all that you don't know

Henry loves this view from my bedroom window. In the morning, in the afternoon, he always checks out the comings and goings on John Q Hammons Drive.

 

 

 

It is yet another lovely morning. We've had so many of them that I swear we'll be penalized with godawful weather come winter. You know the kind: freezing icy drizzle day after day. But of course I don't know that yet. I can, at this point, allow myself visions of Henry playing in the snow on a sunny day. 

And today? Autumnal splendor.

(oh those sunrise colors!!)

I'm definitely in the "I've got a chest cold" category, but though it's awful in the morning, by midday I feel way better. And I'm still enjoying the walk, that says it all!

Breakfast. I listen to National Public Radio's Morning Edition.

 

And quite out of the blue, I understand something. The segment that comes on is one about the impact of school active shooter drills (which are mandatory) on teachers and kids. Not exactly your pleasant subject, but I have five kids in schools and I feel I ought to understand what they're going through. And then I hear some words which stun me: telling the kids to stay away from windows... to not be in the line of sight of possible intruders... even as they know it may or may not be a drill... whether there is indeed an intruder.

Here's the thing: on days that I have both Sparrow and Snowdrop, I first pick up the little guy, and after a brief break at home, we drive over and park the car in line with others, and we wait for Snowdrop to walk over. She is never in the first flock of kids and Sparrow always plays this game whereby he looks out to see if a kid is passing the car. If there is one, he hides on the floor and says -- gaga, tell me when the intruder has passed and if there is another intruder. Sometimes he'll bop up and shout out -- an intruder is after me!

I thought it was just one of those Sparrow games. He's full of crazy fun word play and he seemed happy losing himself in the game, though I wondered where the vocabulary came from. Intruder. Hiding from the line of fire. From intruders. 

So now I know. 

 

It's a busy day for me: I need to take Henry to doggie day care. [Said doggie day care is going to replace trips to Europe soon enough as a budget category! It's irresistible because only there does Henry get his full dose of social pleasure. His dog pals both stimulate him and tire him out. Walks alone don't do it. I saw that on the weekend. We walked plenty and yet his energy level remained high before during and after.] I have a bunch of eye doctor appointments today and so I drop him off, then spin around and drive to the farmette. Why there? Well, I have a handful of minutes before the doc and I want to use them to put in more bulbs. I had time for 60. Lots to go!

At the doc's, I had two chatty attendants -- one having terrible problems with menopause (she later apologized for "oversharing"). After years of these meetings with medical people whom I will likely never see again, I've come to rely on gently friendly responses that so often test my patience at their inevitable "got any plans for the rest of the day?" (What great plans do 72 year old patients ever have at the end of an appointment?) But today I reversed course. Maybe it was reading Andy Borowitz's email, referencing the advice of his grandfather in troubled times: to stay happy and hopeful, do this every day: take a walk, read a book, make a friend. Here was my chance. 

The doc herself is someone I do know quite well from when she cut up my eyes to rid them of cataracts. Her, I merely encouraged to get a rescue dog. And she might! Kids are grown and out, they have room in their house and hearts.

After the doc visit, I return home. Just enough time to take out the garbage (Henry hates the trash room) and pick up some deliveries, and then I head over to get Snowdrop. Tuesday is "just Snowdrop" day as Sparrow has ballet class.

We have finally worked our way through maybe two dozen (maybe more?) World War II books and I dug out a book I had long wanted to read with her -- Anne of Green Gables. She'd read the graphic novel version of it (of course!), and the modern version of the story (don't ask!), but I wanted her to really experience the original text because in those enchanting words, there is so much to love. I smiled when I read in the NYTimes last week that this should be on your short list for cozy book reading in the Fall. Indeed! It warms my heart to go back to it once again.

Snowdrop and I pick up Henry together and we visit a pet shop that offers welcoming packages of free stuff for adopted rescue pooches. Henry liked meeting other dogs in the shop. This dog will always make canine friends easily -- perhaps because he spent much more time in a kennel with other dogs than in a home with humans.

If you think my days have become very dog-centered, well you are correct. I knew this even as I searched the rescues to see which dog would be a good match. There have been a few surprises: how easy Henry has been to potty train (though with very frequent outings!), how boisterous he is (Goose is much more mellow), how totally miserable he is when left alone, how good he is in training sessions, how happy he is playing with other dogs. Mostly good surprises. Time is what I can give him right now, and so this is my focus. And therefore, the focus of so many of my Ocean posts.

with so much love... 

October punches

This month isn't done with us yet! Whatever bug is circulating out there causing havoc and misery, has come knocking on my door. I woke up knowing I'm going to be its next victim.

Still, the day is beautiful and I don't feel like all the wind has been sucked out of me just yet. Henry politely waits for his 7:15 morning walk, and I forgive him for chewing my rosemary bush and my cacti plants. (I place the cacti and pelargonium out of reach. The rosemary has to suffer his assault. It's huge and unmovable.)

We don't walk very far. Just enough for him to do his stuff. He'll be going to doggie day care in the afternoon so I am not worried about exercise for him today.

(Henry, at the Edge)

 

At home, I fix myself breakfast, ignoring Henry who takes this opportunity to find his collar and chew it to shreds.

 

Oh well. He has a spare, and a harness, but I am taking note of his increased confidence and playfulness. We need to rack up the training sessions.  

We go out again and I practice redirecting him from leash chewing -- his devilish "I am happy and playful" new habit that I am working to break.

 

 

 

Henry's behaviors lead me to study his various breeds' characteristics. If the shelter is correct, then my pup can be called a Goldador -- a Retriever Labrador mix that can indeed be black despite the name, and it can have the retriever short coat, like Henry's. On the other hand, he could be more retriever than labrador in which case the dominant characteristics would be that of a retriever. And here's a laugh -- when my granddaughter asked AI to identify him by photo, it suggested he sure looks like a Great Dane. Or, in another photo -- a Greater Swiss Mountain Dog. Or -- horror of horrors! -- a Rottweiler. I am soooo tempted to do a genetic test!

But does it matter? Aren't I just as able to figure out his temperament by observation? He is in his adolescent phase for sure, growing confident, liking occasionally to take things into his own paws just to see where that will get him. Knowing so little about his past adds mystery to the game. We'll see how this next year -- the most challenging one for black labs, for retriever labs and for lab retrievers (and therefore for me) for sure!

At 12:30 I drop Henry along with his BFF Goose off at the doggie day care for a half day of rambunctious play. 

 

 

 

I use the time to grocery shop and to pick up the kids, one after the other.

(even Middle School has pajama days...)

 

 

And then we pick up both Henry and Goose and take them (and their humans) to their respective homes. 

I'm trying hard not to overdo. May this bug that's landed here, fly away with the rest of the germy pesty viruses that are circulating out there. Henry still needs to go out every three hours (by my calculations), but as long as the weather holds, I'm good with that! Though I am grateful for the few hours Henry has with other dogs. I have to laugh at the dog training materials that all say that smart dogs need lots of mental stimulation. None of them explain how best to achieve it. You train for a few minutes, you give toy choices for a few minutes, you walk with them, they rest, repeat. You cant walk too long (not good for their young joints). They never like any toy for too long. Training as well cant go on past a handful of minutes. At least after playing with other dogs the pooch expects less of me. Like an adolescent that he is, my sweet Henry needs to recharge. He's doing that right now. 

with love... 

Sunday delights and crazies

As always, the morning leaves me with the feeling that the day is full of potential. Having Ed here is wonderful of course. Henry likes him and importantly, the pooch remains loyal to his wake up schedule at 7-ish. Too bad daylight savings ends next weekend. That 7-ish is going to turn into 6-ish, which will feel a lot earlier!

Henry and I go out for our half hour morning walk. Such lovely Autumnal mornings we've had! And Henry is superb now with his harness: walking suddenly becomes very easy. He still has much to learn, and he is very capable of going pup-crazy without warning, but at least I am safe on my feet: he does not pull with all his big pup strength anymore. (knock on that wood!)

 

(sunrise) 

(sun's up!)

(oh those maple leaves...)

Ed is still in bed, and that's fine too. Having him there at the Edge is wonderful even if we aren't tracking each others footsteps. That's how it has always been. A quiet togetherness that is at once intensely pleasurable and without frills or adornments. 

We eat breakfast together. Um, with Henry hovering.

I've been wondering what I can do for my ill daughter without being myself overwhelmed by how much help they may need. Since I am already doing stuff for them during the week, adding more runs the risk of wearing me out. Still, I thought perhaps taking the big two kids and Ed and the two dogs (their Goose, my Henry) to the dog park on this beautiful day could be a win win for everyone, including me.

And it is. The two dogs play like a team. 

 

 

Both are extremely friendly with other dogs, both love the freedom to run, both keep by each other the whole time we are in the park.

And Sparrow and Snowdrop are just grand too, running with them, leading their Goose out of a mud bath (really Goose?!), tossing a ball, but mostly admiring their social nature.

I know the two kids have their Young Shakespeare Players (YSP) meeting this afternoon (the full production of Henry IV) and both ask if I can be the one feeding them lunch at the Edge, then taking them to their drama group. Ed returns to take care of the farmette animals. I drop off Goose at home and bring Henry and the two kids up to my apartment. One child likes croissants, one likes pasta. Henry would like both as well, but I am adamant about never ever feeding Henry at the table.

Still, I do remember reading the mystery series that takes place in the Dordogne, France. The police detective always fed his pooch the tip of his croissant. Henry deserves as much! But in his bowl, after a sit, stay, which is going so well that I can't get him to release!

I drop the kids at YSP then park the car and walk over to Bloom Bakery. My daughter's husband mentioned that she would love to be surprised with a sandwich and a pastry from there. How could I turn down such a request for my very sick daughter? 

Hmm. Easily. The line to Bloom is long! At least twenty minutes, snaking outside. And this isn't Paris. Dogs are not allowed inside. I would leave him in the car for five, but for a long wait? No. I do not want to resurrect his separation fears. I'm about to turn away when the group of people in front of me turns around to pet and admire Henry. They're just a notch younger than me and they are prepared to wait for their bakery treats. The gentleman in the group turns to me and says -- look, you may not feel comfortable doing this, but I'll happily look after your dog outside while you wait and get your stuff. 

 

 

Really? Where do these good people come from? Henry wasn't at all disturbed at being left with a fan club (and one quickly formed outside, since he really is a calm and beautiful dog). This is what living in Madison feels like! (Ed reminds me that it's not just "in Madison".) 

Of course, Henry does have his moments. Great walker, until he decides (for example, this evening) to grab the leash and play tug of war with it. (You're supposed to stop and redirect. Easier said!)  Or how about when he rolls over on his back and wants his tummy rubbed, with his mouthy help. Pup stuff. Luckily, he saves it for me! A well behaved child who occasionally acts out for his parent. 

I'll take care of you, you earnest big pup, you! It's not as if I hadn't done some crazy kid stuff when I was your developmental age! 

with so much love... 

drizzly skies

Well, Henry and I had a nice walk in the early morning. No frost today, but it is definitely cap and gloves weather. For my demographic anyway.

 

 

 

I've come to appreciate all the sprawling office spaces, the comfort inns and the like in my neighborhood -- they have grassy fields for my pooch to sniff out. Much better than having him traipse over someone's private lawn. People understandably do not appreciate dead grass where your dog has emptied his bladder. The corporate fields, on the other hand, are so thick from fertilizer and weed killer (all that stuff that then goes to our lakes and creates algae bloom in the summer), that a dog puddle has no impact on the entirety. I'm not on the side of these places that grow lawns. I've never liked them. But at least for Henry, they serve a purpose. 

Breakfast.

It's a quiet day for us. I have an ear out to my daughter -- she is far from well. For some reason the pneumonia hit her especially hard. But I get no calls for assistance, so Henry and I stay home. 

 

 

 

I work on some training: we are up to four minutes of alone time without wailing! We continue with the usual sits and waits and comes and hang backs. 

The drizzle begins early and that's fine -- we still find it easy to go out, often, but for briefer spells. I do not want to go to the doggie park so we play at home. Big dog, small home. It's not the best combination, but it will have to do. For at least nine more months. 

So is my time completely spent now on watching, training, walking, feeding Henry? Sometimes it seems that way, but of course -- this is what I always thought with dogs: they need a lot of your attention when they're young. Henry is an active dog. You can't let him get too bored in life or else he'll go after your slippers. Or worse. By comparison, Goose is a much less demanding animal, content to sleep next to you for a good chunk of the day. What a difference a year makes! Or maybe Henry will always be a more energetic pooch. He sure appears that way now. By afternoon, I sense that he needs a little more action than what he has at the Edge. I take him for yet another walk.

(Three readers highly recommended a harness for walking an active dog... they were so right. Game changer indeed!) 

 

 

And still, after a walk that maxed out the minutes this dog should walk in any one day, he seemed like he needed something more. 

I took him to the little dog exercise area that is part of the Edge. It is padded with quite yukky astroturf. I get it -- a dirt patch of this small size would not work. It would be all mud in a matter of days. But after the day-long drizzle, it smelled of dog pee. I thought of leaving, but then I paused to watch Henry.

He loved it! Someone had left tennis balls and my pooch was thrilled,  running with one, then throwing it in the air for an attempted catch. 

Was he tired after? Well, not exactly. Active dogs dont tire that quickly. I see I am going to be tempted with half-day doggie daycare!

 

Ed comes over this evening for supper, for a Henry walk, and for an overnight.

 

It's really good to have another human with me, one who doesn't need to hear commands to sit and stay. He does it of his own accord. Until tomorrow anyway, when he has to return to the farmette animals.

with so much love... 

Frost!

Outside, there is a layer of hoarfrost. It has always been a big deal at the farmette -- that first day of cold weather, at night, laying down all the annuals in the pots, chilling the air for the first time, transitioning us to the season that follows Fall.

It is exhilarating!  I don't have to take Henry for a long walk this morning, but I want to! I have my cap and gloves on for the first time. I'm warm, he's happy, we're so in step, together on this magnificent morning.

 

I'm rewarded by beautiful colors, radiant in the rising sun.

 

Breakfast.

And then I wait for further instruction. I was to take my daughter's Goose to day care and if he goes, so goes Henry. But I need to know if that's still the plan. We wait.

 

[Ed calls while we wait. Guess who doesn't like it when I talk on the phone with someone?! Do I have a toddler or what?!]

The upshot is that health-wise, my daughter is doing better, though not great yet. Goose is at home with her. Henry and I have the morning to ourselves. I start in on training. Departures: one minute alone without howling. Twice. Oh yeah! Name: definitely responsive to me, but of course, it's just him and me in the room -- no distractions. Commands: good at "back up" in the elevator (would you like a dog lunging to get out when you were trying to get in?), good at "come," almost perfect at "sit,"  and pretty good at "watch me." And as a reward, we go to the off-leash doggie park. Just ten minutes up the road.

I am a tiny bit apprehensive, having had the report from day care that Henry doesn't always listen and can get rambunctious. 

But are we talking about the same dog?? 

Henry was perfect. He came every single time I called. He was playful with one dog, but again, came back to me when I thought he should leave the older dog to his own explorations. 

(time to go home...)

Of course, you could say that this was "first time" behavior. That once he gets comfortable with the park, he'll go wild. And yet, I think that his disposition will lead him in a better direction. There were only two other dogs there, with older owners. One said to me as our pooches sniffed "what a beautiful dog! great markings!"  I beamed in the way proud parents beam, when their child is liked by another.

 

Henry was plenty happy with his walk and his doggie park, and still, I put him in day care for four hours in the afternoon. It's the grandkid pickups that leave me wondering what the best strategy may be. It's really not cool to keep Henry in the car for all those back and forths. It remains a problem especially since his seat belt hasn't arrived yet. (Henry got bounced around a bit today when I had to brake for a sandhill crane crossing the road.) Too, my daughter is still sick and so Goose is on the loose at their house. I dont want the chaos of two dogs there in between the two pickups. In the car, out of the car, wait in the car, out of the car, wait some more in the car, out of the car then to return home -- in the car, out of the car, in the car out of the car. Henry will be fine once I can leave him at home for more than... one minute! Right now, I think he is better off playing with other doggies on these afternoons.

I brought Sparrow home after school and we walked his family's Goose. 

 

 

It's funny how different these animals can be. On paper, you'll read a similar description: good with people, good with children, loves cuddles, lively walking partner, quiet, agreeable. And yet... 

It could be the age -- Henry is much younger. But it's also true that they come with their own set of personality traits, insecurities, assets. For all the leash training that lies ahead for me, I am so grateful that Henry presents no problems in two things that can be a real headache: potty training and destructiveness. (To say nothing of aggression, but then I would never have brought home a dog that has to assert himself with a growl or bark.) Henry is a champion in these areas. 

Goose is, of course, so lovable that he made me reconsider dog ownership. Both canine boys have really big hearts which is surprising given their histories.

 

 

 

We pick up Snowdrop, with Henry still at doggie day care (much to her disappointment).

And toward the end of the day, the three of us drive over to pick up my sweet pup. The kids, once completely "cat people" are now "dog and cat people."  And that's a good thing. More to hug, to love, and be loved right back.

 (pickup joy)

 

 

yep, with so much love... 

 

an October to remember

Did you ever wake up feeling that you finally have embraced all your worrying sticky points, and have strategies to cope with all of them, and your dog is so sweet, and the morning walk with him is so fine...

 

 

 

(um, Henry, where'd you go?)

 

 

... and isn't this a glorious Fall morning to be out and about?

 

 

 

Yeah!

(the Edge, in the morning, in the Fall)

 

Henry is settling into his routines. I can tell. He is excited to go out in the morning, excited to return home, excited to be part of this awesome doggie life of his.

I sit down to breakfast...

...and then crash! I get a text from my daughter. She's sick. There is something seriously wrong with her. She drops Goose off with a neighbor and goes to the clinic. The upshot? She has a horrible case of pneumonia (I'm bewildered: last night we were planning a long walk today with our dogs! When did this happen?!). They called an ambulance. She is in the hospital.

I'm to retrieve Goose from the neighbor's. The plan is to take him to the doggie day care. It's shockingly convenient: my daughter's house is five minutes down the road. The doggie day care is five minutes in the other direction. The kids' schools are close by. I am so grateful for all this! But still, how do I handle everything, with my own pooch suffering all my departures? 

I take him with me in the car's back seat. I shove Goose in the hatchback portion of the car and put on soothing classical music. 

(at the day care, finally)

 

 

I decide to leave Henry there as well. It will be his first visit, but he has a familiar pal along and I need to be dog-free for the chores today: picking up the kids, taking them home, picking up deliveries, taking Goose home and being available in case my daughter needs me.

The daycare is a godsend, but of course, it's DAY care, so the dogs can only stay so long. Kids, at the Edge, somewhat unnerved that quite suddenly their mom is in the hospital.

And then I get the "reverse call" -- they're sending me home! Fantastic. Crisis averted. Or at least things appear to be on the upswing.

With kids in the car, excited at reclaiming not one but two students of doggie day care, I drive to pick up Goose and Henry. Of course, I get a report card on his first day: he was good, but he doesn't seem to know his name... True enough, Henry has only been Henry for about a week! He got a little rambunctious once or twice, but otherwise he was fine! I felt like the parent of a kid who was standing next to the class genius -- Goose. Mine? Oh, just fine. I was looking for words that would describe my pup as a sweet and lovable dog as I know him -- full of heart, gentle and smart. Oh well. I used his name a lot for the rest of the evening. 

Henry comes back to the Edge with me exhausted. No kidding, buddy!

Hungry Henry. He is such a dynamic eater that I have to resort to the newest slow-down bowl. (What will they think of next...)

 

 

 

I'm hoping I have no more urgent calls or texts tonight. Really, in this case, no news will be good news. Right, Henry?

with so much love...