to Chicago

Winter is a tough time for meetups with my Chicago younger daughter and her family. It's tough for them for all the obvious work/school/activities reasons and it's tough for me because at the end of a busy week, I do not find the drive there and back to be as easy as it once was. I've made that trip to the city hundreds of times since I moved to the greater Madison area in 1979. It's not at all a hard route to drive, it's more that I am less patient with the monotony of highway driving. It's more tiring than a hike up a steep mountain. Okay, perhaps not that, but in the winter it always seems strenuous. 

And yet, if I want to see the grandgirls going about the business of growing up, driving down is the easiest way to do this. It's been a couple of months since I've traveled there and I almost postponed my trip yet again. It's not the ideal time to put Henry and Sadey in a kennel. She is so new to life up here with me that I hate to throw this on her, though honestly, I don't think one night at Camp K9 is going to make her or break her. And I haven't yet celebrated my daughter's birthday (which was actually in January) yet! I told Ed to mind the house. A nice place to hang out, I should think!

And after the usual doggie wake up, after the walk...

 

And breakfast of course - theirs and mine...

After a few last barks at the neighborhood dogs...

I load the car with my tote, with very late birthday gifts, a bag of foods for the campers, and of course, the campers themselves.

I'm thinking. -- there's no way I'll get through the drop-off at the kennel without a fuss. I'm prepared for the struggle to get them inside. 

But there is no struggle! Is it because of Sadey being there at his side that, despite a slight tremor, Henry gallantly walks inside? What a relief!

 

The plan is for me to get to Chicago in time for lunch. Light traffic helps!

 

 

Thinking Polish thoughts, my daughter fixes a noodles with strawberries dish that has Polishness written all over it. Literally -- makaron z truskawkami. Juniper helps put it all together.

Primrose comes back from dance class in time to join us and to share in the desserts from Mindy's.

 

 

 

 

 

And then it's a laid back hangout time -- the best of the best for me. Six games of Uno with Primrose, all of which I lost, not for lack of trying. Summer planning. Dog stories, recalled. Lovely moments that make the trips here so very worthwhile!

 

We go to eat dinner at one of the neighborhood favorites -- Bar Parisienne.  Such good food! Such a fine evening!

I'm tempted to linger at their home afterwards. Primrose is practicing her piano, Juniper is in a playful mood, but I am tired enough that I resist the temptation. It didn't help that last night, my pooches raised a ruckus at 12:30 a.m. because the neighbors decided to let their dog out for a post midnight run outside. Time for me to retreat to my room at the downtown hotel, where for once I dont even have a great view to distract me. A few minutes on the computer, a few more with my book, and I'm out. That's the hope!

with so much love... 

information

Having adopted two rescue dogs in this past year, I have learned so much about the process! Of course, I have known for a long time that there are too many dogs out there that need homes. Strays, sheltered, fostered. The numbers just keep growing. And so if you are a shelter, you will do a lot to home your dogs, because there is a line waiting to come into your quarters. 

Good shelters do not lie about their dogs. It's not their intention for a pup to go into a home, any home as quickly as possible, if that dog is going to be a poor match to your household. What they do, however, is emphasize the good in each dog. The hope is that these traits will blossom and that you will fall in love with the dog and (perhaps enthusiastically, but more likely grudgingly) deal with any problems that may arise.

There is a bit of a sales pitch going on here. If your dog looks anything at all like a black lab (Henry) or a golden retriever (Sadey), then that's what you'll read to be their likely genetic mix. Black labs and golden retrievers are desirable family pets. And yes, labels and breeds are not necessarily an indicator of the dog's temperament, but they're not irrelevant. 

I had more information on Sadey than I did on Henry who was never fostered. Her temperament was described in great detail. I spoke to and texted with the foster mom about her. I asked for any at all signs of trouble. She said there were none: Sadey was an affectionate saint in her opinion.

None of this is incorrect. Sadey is in fact a sweet dog. An affectionate pup. Indeed, a velcro dog that wont leave my side (much to Henry's dismay). 

Now, after two weeks with her and some genetic testing, I'll tell you what she is not. She is not leash trained at all. She is strong and she pulls and she is only now realizing that she has to treat walks as potty time. She is not immediately happy to see people. The term used to describe her -- "all sweetness" misses the part where she barks at strangers during our walks. Unlike Henry, she doesn't also growl and if you approach a human, chances are she'll be happy to make friends with them  (Henry takes longer), but she is not just a complete people lover, automatically friends with anyone she sees. She is also likely not two years and two months old. Probably younger (according to the vet). She is hyperactive, suggesting youthfulness and/or a breed mix that leans toward that behavior.

Finally, though "sold" as a lab/golden retriever  mix (the friendliest of the friendly!), her DNA test indicates that she is only 12% Labrador Retriever and only 1% Golden Retriever. So what breeds dominate in her? Not ones I would have ever considered for a pet pooch: German Shepherd (32%) and here's one I would have liked to avoid -- Belgian Malinois (20%). As in all these Texas dogs, there are also traces of Pitbull and American Staffordshire  -- something I knew you couldn't avoid. (And there are tiny, really tiny bits of fun breeds in her: Poodle, Beagle, American Eskimo Dog. And not so fun but luckily also tiny bits of the Chow-Chow -- which, as far as I can tell, is the least affectionate dog on the planet.)

So, basically Sadey is mostly a German Shepherd with stronger strains of the Belgian Malinois and weaker strains of a Labrador Retriever. 

Uff! If labels could send shivers, I think that these would have had me shaking a bit! But these breed strains are just that -- strains. Disposition is uniquely formed by many factors and you don't know which breed is dominating in which physical or temperamental category, nor how much she conforms to that breed standard anyway. 

I discussed this and all other dog matters with Aimee (the Director of the doggie daycare and the dog  training program). Her sister Julie assists there as well and Julie is a true dog whisperer -- Henry loves her to pieces and she has assessed Sadey too as a "very sweet" dog. Nonetheless, the Malinois strain in Sadey has put me on alert to ratchet up the training of these dogs -- Henry for his reactiveness and Sadey -- well, she needs to be more responsive to commands. Right now she doesn't know many, and isn't good at sustaining any of them.  I've been so busy that I've been only haphazardly keeping up with them. Too, I have yet to figure out how I can work with just one dog at a time. But this is work that must be done. The two weeks of introductions and observations were fine and they were needed -- for her, for Henry, for me. But now I really have to take this seriously because a bored or untrained Malinois will surely wreck my house and my days. (I know, I know -- she's not really a Malinois and not all Malinois are of the same disposition, but still, it's a reminder!)

 

The day now has a double start time for me. Sort of like an alarm clock that you put on snooze and then it comes back to try to wake you once more. At around six, someone must be arriving or leaving somewhere nearby because both dogs run downstairs then, barking. I ignore them, aside from issuing a loud command directing them to be quiet, which of course they choose to ignore.

Then comes the second wake-up (on the off chance that you fell asleep again after the racket). This second one is indeed lovely. Licks, jumps, kisses of excitement.

We go out on our walk. 

Both dogs are pokey today. I dont know why. Distractions perhaps. Sadey is still pulling hard and I'm still too lazy and forgetful to use her harness.

 

 

I feed them, and sit down to breakfast, and look over at the computer to read the results of Sadey's DNA tests.

Well, I was equally surprised with Henry. Sold as a black lab, he had 0% of that in him and carried instead significant amounts of Rottweiler (38%) followed by equal parts Doberman (12%), Siberian Husky (11%), and Great Pyrenees (11%).  To me, he looks and acts like a Dobbie. The good sides of a Dobbie!

I take my mutts to day care, feeling grateful for it, despite the hefty bite that it takes out of my monthly budget. Both dogs need lots of stimulation and socialization. They get it at day care.

 

In the afternoon, I pick up Snowdrop way at the other side of town ...

 

 

... and take her to her Shakespeare play performance, closer to home. 

Then it's back to that corner of the woods to get the dogs. And home again. Ed comes over tonight, for dinner and a movie. This is a good thing for me, but also for the dogs. It's never a good idea, I dont think, to associate their home with just one person -- me. Henry, of course, is overjoyed. 

 

 

Sadey is still more cautious. I'm happy for Henry. He hasn't had many belly rubs since the girl has arrived. With Ed, he is not shy about staying by his siade the whole evening and getting his share of cuddles.

With kids and dogs taking up so much of my time, I feel sometimes like I've slipped over the edge to their world, forgetting what it's like to actually be in the company of adults. Bad enough that I mix up my doggie names, saying good girl, Henry and good boy Sadey way too often. I also function with an eye and ear to their issues. I'm sure this will pass, but still, in these stages of grandkid lives and young dog ownership, I need to be in the presence of big people more. Ed qualifies!

With so much love... 

 

construction

Honestly, I do not care much that there is construction all around me. This too shall pass. Too, it's not my forever home -- not even my for-a-year home. It's so comfortable for the three of us that everything else becomes almost irrelevant. But the construction does bring with it some interesting quirks. For example, I've learned not to leave the car outside because at the end of the day it will be covered with dirt. The wind will blow it right over to my front door. Then, too, I have taken to walking the two dogs (one at a time) at just before 7. Both Sadey and Henry bark at strangers, though Sadey will befriend the person right away if given the opportunity to do so. Henry? I would say it's not a given. If you have construction by your residence, you'll know that the trucks and workers start arriving for the 7 a.m. shift. My quiet neighborhood suddenly comes alive with men getting to their jobs, and my dogs barking their heads off at them. It's not a peaceful start to the day!

(waiting...)

 

 

On the upside, even before my session with the reactive dog trainer next week, I know that if I keep a treat near the pup's mouth, he or she will focus on my hand rather than on the action up the street. So we practice this and yes, and it's a drag to have to work hard at it, and I'm very happy once we finish our morning walk and they're fed and I can sit down to my cup of coffee and granola.

This day is positively lackadaisical in my approach to it compared with yesterday. We have our morning routine and it is lovely. Both dogs greet me in the morning so joyously that it warms the heart, we walk, we eat, I put on classical music and go over the plans for the day while my pooches nap. 

Doggie daycare, a few errands, a stop at the farmette, home again. And I turn my back on lists, prompts, to-do thoughts and pick up my book and read for a solid hour. Bliss.

Kid pickups are a little off today because I must get Sparrow, then Snowdrop and I must feed her, which means him as well, and then deliver her to the Shakespeare group. She's starting with the Henry IV performances tonight (though only as tech crew today). And I'm going to have to skip the play this time around, since going out in the evening would require special boarding arrangements for my dogs and they already have some Camp days coming up. Besides, the play is long! I am the grandmother who skips her grandkids' plays, what can I say... 

(afternoon spent in car)

 

 

 

 

 

And after dropping her off,  then him, I return to the doggie daycare for my pooches. Sadey, I have some good news -- you're all clear with the heart worm! She looks at me with eyes that ask if this warrants a food treat. 

I make a pot of chili, they watch to see if this is a meal that they may share in. When it is obvious that their supper is long over, they retreat -- she to one couch, he to the other -- and rest. 

They are like the tots for whom your heart swells as you watch their rhythmic breathing and small dreamy twitches. Bag full of worries, capable of messing up your space in a matter of seconds, but so joyous and grateful to be with you, taking in each day with utter enthusiasm and confidence that you will be there for them and they for you.

 

(fridge magnets) 

 

...and so much love... 

nuts

 As the clock inched closer to noon, Snowdrop and I looked at each other and said, almost simultaneously -- this is exhausting. 

To me, the whole day was nuts. I woke with the dogs and rushed through our morning routines, urging the two pooches to "hurry up" with their business, because of course they know exactly what I mean and what's at stake.

To frustrate me, Sadey took forever and in the end did not even tinkle, forcing me to comb the house to see if she had had an accident inside.  Later in the morning, the owners of Sally's house were coming by to fix a few things and I wanted the place to look super together and clean. It would not do for them to find a puddle on one of their carpets. Thankfully, there were no wet spots anywhere.

I rushed with their meal and my meal. 

I could not read my novel -- I had to go over the list of things for my Poland presentation on International Day at Sparrow's school. 

Loading up the car, I was sure I'd forget something. I had wanted to leave at 7:45. I left at 8. 

Luck was with me -- traffic was modest, rush hour notwithstanding. I dropped the dogs at doggie daycare an hour earlier than usual, but that's okay -- they will manage. From there, I picked up a ready Snowdrop and we headed for the elementary school. Her alma mater. And then the classes, divided into small groups, started to trickle in. Poland was on display (along with 18 other countries).

Initially, Snowdrop just helped with the pointing and the costume try-ons (she wore one as well, even though I had purchased it for the kids when they were way younger). I was awful the first few rounds, but good by the time Sparrow's class came around. Thank goodness. This was all for him after all!

I'd gotten in my groove and it was almost smooth sailing (you have to do dozens  upon dozens of short presentations), except that I was getting horse. And tired. A function of being 72 is that three or four hours of engaging presentations can really drive you nuts. Snowdrop asked if she could take over. She'd learned my "speech," my questions, my jokes, so I let her go for it. I was the sidekick, with my pierogi hat. (Actually, I did not realize how ridiculous I looked until I saw the photo below! I had been searching for the pierogi mascot the Polish team used for the Olympics and came across the pierogi hat instead.) Really, that girl can do enthusiasm very well!

And by noon, we were both exhausted. Completely wiped out. She told me that she only now appreciated how much effort International Day was for the presenters. A valuable lesson for a kid, don't you think?

In the afternoon, she could have gone back to her school, but she had no academic lessons left for the day so I let her ride along with me as I continued with my own schedule. Bring all the Poland stuff home (please dont ask me to do this again in two years!), store it in the basement. Clean up the chaos. Eat lunch, such as it is. Pick up Sadey's papers and head to get the pooch in time for her late afternoon vet appointment.

I love our vet, but the first visit with your pet is long. Sadey was good waiting in the strange small room. But, like her sib Henry, the technician who eventually came in did not do it for her. For the first time, I saw her turn a mean eye on another human being. There was a lot of growling and barking  that accompanied it. The technician asked me to please restrain my dog. I wanted to ask her to please act like you liked Sadey. Eventually she left and my vet came in and peace was restored.

I found out some interesting things about Sadey, offering me some explanation for her behavior. The not so good -- she may still have heartworm - a serious and potentially deadly condition. The rescue people claim that they had treated it, but my vet isn't sure. So, more tests are needed and in all likelihood, a tough treatment plan would have to be implemented (think: drug and isolate her for 30 days).  It's that or wait for her to get a stroke and die. 

Okay. That's the serious stuff. The good news is that it is treatable, albeit in this tough way. Here's the other interesting thing though: my vet swears that Sadey is much younger than the rescue people implied. Not 2 years and 2 months at all. More like maybe one and a half years. At most. And yes, despite the fact that she had had at least one litter in her young life. This totally explains her behavior, which I really had thought was that of an adolescent dog. She is not done with the zoomies! 

On the upside, she was a sweet and gentle girl all afternoon (except with the technician whom she nearly devoured) and I was proud of her for that. 

It was getting very late. We still had to get Henry (who then barked at every human we passed by car and believe me, having him bark about two inches away from your ear can be... deafening!), and drop off Snowdrop (whose assistance and companionship I so deeply appreciated today). 

The three of us -- two dogs and I -- came home. And oh, was it good to enter the quiet house, to feed us all, to watch Henry and Sadey spread out in the living room, to turn on some dumb show on Prime and exhale.

What a fantastically nutty day. But good, overall! Really, when I think about it -- quite good!

with so much love... 

small steps

t may not seem like something to get excited about, but I've been hearing sandhill crane calls on my morning walks. They come to me from the south -- perfectly understandable, since the wetlands stretch out from the southern edge of the new development. When i lived in the farmhouse, the sadhills gathered to the east and north of us. It's fascinating to adjust to this new and yet familiar way of recognizing the coming of spring.

Last night, Sadey was surprised to see me head upstairs without closing her gate. She immediately bounded up with us, beating Henry to the top, wondering, I'm sure, what this was all about. I calmly went about my evening routines. As always, she was glued to my side while Henry watched. I'm like the piped piper with these two. 

When I got to the part where I get into my bed, Sadey jumped right up with me. No, Sadey. you stay down on the ground! Just to emphasize that I meant business, I went back downstairs and fetched her bed, placing it at an opposite side of me to that of Henry's. That's Sadey's bed! -- I said. She tried twice more to join me, but got the same response each time. She gave up and settled on the floor. Then on her bed. Then I don't know where because I'd read my chapter for the evening and turned out the light.

Both dogs stayed up in my room with me, until some ungodly hour of the morning, when they both went down. Suit yourselves, pups! It's not time for me to join you. 

But at 6:40 (which is right about when Henry usually wakes me), both were by my bedside, wagging their tails, licking any extremity they could find. I would say that to me, that was absolutely the best way to start my day.

We went for a walk. One dog at a time. As always, Henry is much faster so I take him out first.

Sadey pulls like crazy. I am going to have to work on this and stop being so lazy about putting on her harness. Still, she is a joyful girl and so I direct her this time south. Three blocks down, passing the street with Steffi's House, and we are by the wetlands.

No sandhills at the moment, but a very pretty sunrise over the expanse of prairies and ponds that separate us from the farmette lands.

At home again -- breakfast. Food and treats and chewies -- this is the last frontier I have to someday face with them. Sadey is so food-crazed that it's absolutely necessary to separate them for feedings. This may be a problem this weekend (more on that later), but for now, I can easily keep her feeding station far away from his. And I distract her until he is done.

My own breakfast? Leisurely and very nice.

Doggie day care next, a stop at the Edge to pick up misdirected mail, a few more errands, then home again, from where I call the city water people to tell them that my water at Sally's House tastes like you swallowed water in an over-chlorinated swimming pool. (To their credit, they came over and immediately agreed. Another work in progress!)

My job for the rest morning is to get ready for tomorrow. I very reluctantly agreed to participate in Sparrow's school International Day. I did it two years ago (the school organizes this event biennially) and I thought it was incredibly taxing then. Sparrow begged for me to do it again, even though it would really be just repeating the same stuff and many kids will have heard me do it back then (though of course, I'm sure they will have remembered none of it). But since Sparrow is stuck being the middle child who rarely has me pandering to just his requests, I agreed. Truly an act of grandmotherly love, because really, it is for me an incredibly tough act. What it entails is doing short (maybe 3-5 minutes) interactive enthusiastic, engaging, hyped up presentations on Poland to small groups of kids over and over and over and over again from when the school opens until the noon hour. There are parents/grandparents who stay calm and measured, there are those who show videos and do other kid-focused things to represent their country. My act on Poland is successful only if I put on my highest levels of enthusiasm. I am dead when it's over. 

This year, Snowdrop is no longer in Sparrow's school but she asked if she could help me with the presentations. This was up to Sparrow of course. He was enthusiastic: grandmother and sister both? He is super excited. 

When I pick them up from school, we do not go back to Sally's House. Instead I stay with them in their own home, because in the late afternoon I have to go and set up my Poland poster boards. This, too, seems to be exciting for the kids. I take them with me. We get to work. And watching their enthusiasm makes me feel just a little guilty for feeling so reluctant to do my schtick. 

Home for them, pick up the dogs, then home for us.

As I walk these two mutts (one at a time), I think about the conversation I had with Aimee, the doggie daycare and training school director. I told her that everything concerning the integration of Sadey is not only on track, but right now -- exceeding my expectations. (True, given our rough start, my expectations weren't that high!) All good right now. But Henry himself is not good. And it has nothing to do with Sadey. With her, he is now calm and even playful. But the problem with seeing strangers outside is too severe to ignore. 

Aimee tells me that the trouble with these Texas dogs brought up to Wisconsin is that so many of them (most of them?) have a genetic mix that includes all the guarding and herding breed characteristics. Pit bull. Rottweiler. Doberman. These are serious guard dogs. People in Texas like that and they've let their dogs mix and often run free. Aimee loves Henry (and he loves her right back), but she tells me that it is unfortunately in his genes to love his people deeply and to raise hell when he sees strangers nearby. Can he be trained to let go of this? It's a maybe. With serious training and meds, he can improve. He is just at an age when we have a chance to redirect him, but it will be hard going. 

In the meantime, I am so glad we are out of the apartment situation. The dog parks may have to be off limits for now as well, unless his vet wants to up his meds. I'm just not comfortable with him barking close up to strangers. What about his exercise needs though! Well, there are solutions -- would you believe it, there are expensive solutions for so many of the dog issues! Apparently there is a network of private large fenced yards that you can rent by the hour -- some as big as 3 acres -- to let your dog loose in that private space so they can get their exercise.  When I told Ed this, he was of course full of alternatives (rather than have me pay between $7 and $15 per hour for a yard rental): ask chat gpt what to do! Get a muzzle! Why does my beloved Ed always avoid the advice of experts? I thanked him for the suggestions and booked a consult with a reactive dog trainer and made a note to discuss this further with Henry's vet. Oh, and I downloaded  the Sniffspot App in case the dog parks aren't working for my boy. 

Tomorrow is my super charged day. You'd think we'd all retire early. It never works that way, does it...

with so much love... 

one of those Mondays

When you are working through rescue dog issues, you (unrealistically) assume that the world will go away and leave you alone for however long it takes for you to deal with your pooches. You're stunned when you find out that this is not the case. That in fact there is much to be done, that your dogs are not the center of everyone's life and perhaps not even your own. Of course, at age almost-73, multi-tasking can be a challenge. For example, in younger years, yesterday's family dinner would have been a breeze. I might have even thrown in some intelligent conversation into the mix. As it were, the children's needs, the dogs' craziness, the dinner preparation -- well, my head was buzzing! My son-in-law noted that I had forgotten to give him a plate for dinner. Believe me, it was not intentional! I was watching the dogs, the kids, the foods on the stove. A plate slipped my mind.

Today was supposed to be a breather. Dogs at doggie care, Nina rests with her feet up. Well, one of those two came through.

 

This morning, Sadey and Henry were so tired from yesterday's two visits to the dog park and evening play with Goose, that for the first time since I got Henry, he did not come over to wake me. I was up and showered before he did his morning stretch and greeting.

It's a bitter cold day. We'll be bouncing around like this for a month or more, but it's definitely cold enough for doggie sweaters. Yes, I know, they may be too big. Sizing a dog online is challenging. Neither pooch minds the sweater. They are quickly shedding their Texas roots in favor of Wisconsin habits.

At home, I notice a slight change in their behavior. Henry seems less timid. Sadey appears to be less frantic. They actually have a friendly moment with each other on the carpet. And both stay still for one second with me on the couch. 

 

 

 

Breakfast? So very calm, on all fronts.

And then it's daycare, garbage, groceries, farmette, compost... and so on. I'm sweating on this cold day! But I do pause to check in with Bee in Poland. A half an hour on Zoom is an investment in my sanity. Okay, I'm ready for my afternoon crazies: pick up Sparrow, pick up Snowdrop, bring them to Sally's House...

 

 

 

 

 

... take him to Taekwando, pick up Henry and Sadey, walk both, but separately, come home.

I really do not intend to have both dogs in doggie daycare each and every weekday. For one thing it's crushingly expensive. At least for me it is. But I need to resolve a Henry issue that has been swept under the rug with my move from apartment to house -- his fierce barking at strangers. It doesn't arise as much here, in my new home. No elevators, no corridors. No fear of someone coming at us suddenly, maybe with an ax and a chainsaw to mow us down. But the trips to the dog park are troublesome, because he will find a person (or two) who will set him off, and the barking, loud and in your face (or at least in that person's face), cannot be tolerated. He is my Jekyll and Hyde dog: so friendly toward people he knows! So calm, quiet, respectful, affectionate. But step outside where strangers walk and he is a different pooch. I need to help him through this. Until I do, doggie daycare is in fact a panacea. He gets his stimulation there in the same way he would in a dog park. Without me worrying that he's giving someone a heart attack. And Sadey? I think leaving her there with Henry was transformative. Again, she is far more lively than the shelter implied. She needs the mental and physical exercise as much as he does. At least for now. So daycare it is, for the both of them, for a while at least.

At home, they are at peace again. 

 

 

 

I'm going to leave her gate open for the night. I need to see what happens when both of them are in the same space in their sleep. If it goes well, only the feeding and toy playing will have to be done in separate quarters.

So, we're moving forward! Let's hope it remains forward, with not too many pivots and realignments!

with so much love... 

 

new observations

Wouldn't you think that once you were on a good track with the integration of your second dog into the household, everything would come together nicely and you'd be set? That had been my thinking before Sadey joined our family of now three. 

Things were progressing well. Sadey was now mostly with us -- all day, aside from mealtime and nighttime. There was no fighting. Everything was amazingly peaceful. And it remains peaceful today. So what could possibly be off-kilter? 

At first, I didn't really think much about it. Once peace prevailed, I was satisfied. This morning -- a very very cold morning! -- I take them out as usual...

And I feed them -- no argument there, each eats in his or her space -- and they get their dental chews separately, and of course, Henry plays with his first while Sadey devours hers in seconds, but all this is good. No issues, no squabbles. I eat my breakfast and finish yet another Maeve Binchy book.

 

 

It's the time after -- our peaceful morning rest time -- that I focus again on the details of their dynamic: I had truly believed that if they got over the initial hesitation, they would relish the companionship of the other. Sadey, I was told, would really love a home with a canine sib. Henry, I was sure, needed extra stimulation at home. Being a master of dog friendship, it seemed obvious that a pal would help him pass the time. All this may be true, but the one thing I'm seeing is that these two tolerate each other, but except for the first rather hard play yesterday morning, they do not really attempt to engage each other. A wag, a lick, indicating basic peace, and then they go their separate ways. 

Moreover, Sadey is a total attention hog. Henry watches in the background as she always, always sticks close to me. The minute I sit on the couch, she is there, right next to me. She works hard to be the one I pet and cuddle. Henry stays to the side, with those sad eyes of his looking on.

And finally, the toys have been removed so that there would be no resource fights. The only time they had really squabbled last weekend was over a chewy. I was told to take all the stuff away. This may be nothing much to Sadey. Her foster mom said that they didn't really have doggie toys -- just the occasional bone. But Henry loves his toys and I see him walking from room to room, likely wondering where his squeakies and nylabones have disappeared to. 

So I close Sadey off again and give him his toys and I give her matching ones in her space and I wonder -- is this the way they're going to play going forward? 

I suppose I have gained something: Henry keeps an eye on Sadey and so I cannot say that he is bored. But I'm back to reading books on how to give the neglected non-pushy dog his equal share of attention, because with Sadey in the room, he gets precious little time with me.

*     *     * 

I take both dogs to the dog park again. Ed joins us. It may be very cold (with winds, they're saying it feels like -2F/-19C, for sure the coldest Sadey has ever felt), but keeping the dogs home all day is not a good idea for these two.

(Sadey, your flying ears surely deserve a close-up)

 

 

At the park, both of them release their inner tension. Henry is more relaxed here -- he knows he can run, he knows how to communicate his wishes to other dogs. He's not shy about communicating them to Sadey as well, and she is not shy in her response. I'd say they are, for once, a pretty good match. Both are confident. Both are fast.

They have a fantastic hour of exercise.

I tell Ed I want a timed self-release photo. His answer? -- you'll never get them to cooperate. I laugh -- you just watch! They both want to be in on anything I do.

 

 

 

*     *     * 

In the evening, the young family is here for dinner. I knew this would present many challenges since Sadey can get pretty wild when she is excited. Too, she looks for ways to steal food. Will she let us eat in peace? And finally, the play area is also her quiet time corner, where I can close her off if things aren't going well. How should I proceed if the kids are in there building with legos or lining up their toy cars and toy mice if she needs to be restrained for a while? Finally, how is bringing Goose into the mix going to affect the dynamic? Goose is on great terms with Henry and with most any dog. Can Sadey fit into this rather bonded dog duo? 

All good questions. I'm about to find out!

*     *.     * 

Just before the young family is to arrive, I decide to pack the two dogs in the car and take them for another brief run in the dog park. Honestly, it's easier than walking the two separately and hoping they'll do their stuff promptly. Or at least that Sadey will do her stuff. And I think a second wild run will calm them down for the evening.

It turns out to be a good idea. I didn't have to worry about some dog having an accident and I have to believe that some of Sadey's zoomies had fizzled out of her by the time the gang of six (3 kids, 2 parents and a dog) arrive, because Snowdrop remarks that Sadey is significantly less crazy than when we came home to her after school last week.  

True, Sadey was at first shell shocked by the tumult. Nor was she happy with the arrival of another dog. But, Goose is never phased by dogs and you could say he nipped her assertive stance in the bud. Peace prevailed thereafter. Indeed, it was wonderful for all the dogs (and therefore people): Henry loved having his friend, who understands him so well, to whom he could unload his current troubles. And Sadey found someone who would absolutely snuggle with her as much as she wanted. 

(closed eyes in bliss)

 

 

The kids wisely found their play stations and closed the gate behind them.

 

 

Sadey was so well behaved that I did not have to put her behind bars at all. And dinner? Well, all dogs wished the kids would throw them food, but the young ones had been warned that it was vitally important not to give them anything. Amazing how smoothly the meal progressed!

 

 

 

(no, I did not make pierogi... but I did bring out a pierogi I got for a school presentation this week!)

 

At the close of the evening, my daughter asked if I could manage a photo of her, the kids and the three dogs. I thought it would be impossible. Sadey never sits still long enough to be part of a complicated arrangement. Henry wont jump up on the couch if it's crowded and if she is there. 

Turns out I was wrong.

 

 

It was a great ending to an really challenging weekend. And dare I say it -- I think the toughest days are behind us.   

with so much love...