pickups

It is a day for pickups. A whole bunch of them. Luck has it that the weather has improved. The entire weekend is looking good. Qualifier: for November. A cold snap comes after, but I'm prepared. Henry is prepared. Indeed, I will be very disappointed if I have no need for his adorable button up jacket this month. But today, the thermometer says we are just at freezing. The grass is just a little icy-wet -- not his favorite.

 

We do a short walk.

(home at last... to very squeaky rabbit!)

 

 

Henry's habits ebb and flow at this age. He has quit leash biting. He pulls now only for critters, and to get out of the elevator (workin' on it!). On the other hand, he has picked up a new habit of barking at distant people, with or without dogs. Who in daycare taught him that one? My quiet pooch who, thankfully, just about never barks in the apartment has a resounding bark outside. Big dog, loud voice. A playful bark can be nipped. A warning bark? Not so much. Henry has enough guard dog genes in him that he can't help himself. The best I can hope for is to limit it to a handful of good woofs and then let him know that I heard, I appreciate his concern, now let's move on. Or, like this morning, I can divert him and go back inside.

For breakfast.

We stay a few minutes on the "touch" command, which he does not especially like, because it makes no sense to him to go for the open and empty hand ,rather than the one holding the treats. (Workin' on it!)

I drop him off so that I can continue with my pickups. A pickup of some meds from the Vet Clinic. (Nothing of great note, just the usual dog stuff.) Of some stuff at the farmhouse: Christmas decorations! The little electric oven that will be needed for the Thanksgiving meal. The car is filling up! 

(ah, the nakedness of farmette lands now...)

 

 

Here's a novel errand: I go over to Steffi's House. Remember that one? It's right near the farmette. I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on it and I realized that I should do something about the lawn. At the farmette we do not recognize the concept of lawn and we do nothing about the grass that grows wherever it decides to grow. We mow paths through it and occasionally I've been inspired to create meadows of wildflowers here and there. That's it. But Steffi's House has the all-American lawn, albeit in small amounts. Here, you can see it in this photo.

It's not as robust as its neighbors' because I am not robust in keeping up with it. Indeed, I wonder if fertilizing it this late makes any sense at all. You can't stimulate roots with deep freezes nearly every night now. But, I've got the stuff for it so I borrow Ed's seed spreader and I do my bit for appearances sake, knowing damn well I'm merely adding to the problem of lake pollution. Someday I'll rip that whole bit of grass out, you just wait and see!

From there -- to the grocery store. Veggies for Thanksgiving. Stuff for post-Thanksgiving brunch. I haul up from the car a crate of Christmas decorations, four grocery bags, a milk jug and the Christmas tree stand, because I do not know if fake trees come with their own stands. I use a little wagon they have here for moving stuff. I pile it high. It spills. I reload, picking up scattered groceries. Upstairs I unpack it all. I swear I bought two packages of green beans. Where is the second one?? Uff, it's time to pick up Sparrow!

Since it's just him today, I feel he deserves a special treat. An outing to Hubbard Diner. Where he chooses a slice of mocha cheesecake. Which I know he wont like but I also know better than to argue with a 7-year old about taste preferences. 

I don't mind that he doesn't finish it. I do grumble a little when he then begs for a different selection. Like, maybe a beloved cookie. I will let you guess if I held firmly to the principle "you picked the cheesecake, you're stuck with that."

 

We come to the Edge, he helps me pick up packages in the mail room. Sparrow is very eager to help nearly always. So when he then begs to go to the fifth floor to look out on the terrace, I agree to take a detour to it. 

 

 

Then I see him take a napkin and toss it over the railing. Sparrow, what are you doing?! I want to see it go down. Oh, my dear, that's not a science experiment, it's littering! I send him to the apartment and run downstairs to pick up the napkin, which, of course, I cannot find. Well, at least it will eventually disintegrate. 

In the apartment, he reads quietly in what he calls "his room." Toward evening, I return him home, then hurry back to the Edge. The local internet-cable company is sponsoring a pizza party, with reps there to tell you about their fantastic cable packages. I pick up two slices of pizza to take upstairs, noting that I already have your internet services. I dont bother admitting that I had cancelled their cable within a day of getting it. I hate cable. But hey! No need to cook dinner tonight!

And now I rush over to doggie daycare to pick up Henry. 80 dogs at day care today and he is the next to last to go home. I felt like the parent whose child waits for the ride when all the friends have already gone home. Oh, don't worry -- the doggie daycare provider tells me. He had so much fun!  Still, 5:55 is too late. For me, if not for him.

When we come into the apartment, Henry is hesitant. Something is not right. It can't be the smell. My pooch is very familiar with Sparrow's scent. Something doesn't look right. He sticks to the kitchen and the doorway. What's the matter Henry? 

Ohhhhh... It's the Christmas tree stand. You hadn't seen it here before. You mean I have to introduce you slowly to a Christmas tree stand??

(yes...)

We work on touch. Henry, your snout, on my hand: touch! But why -- he seems to be asking. Why touch an empty hand, why bring in a strange object into our home, why feed me medicine (even though the wet food was in fact yummy), why not share your pizza with me, why?

Oh, Henry! Relax, my dear boy. We'll get through this quirky and incomprehensible yet wonderful life together. Don't you worry. I'll help you, my pup, I promise. 

 

 

with so much love... 

typical November

This is the weather that to me, is the trademark of November: cold, gray, drizzly. Dark mornings, dark late afternoons. What's there to like?

Well just ask Henry! He wakes at 5:30. I tell him he is a nice doggy BUT, we are not done with the night. He returns to his bed for another hour and tries again. Good boy, Henry! Let's get going!

It's not raincoat weather but everything is indeed wet. Henry doesn't mind. Happy to be out, happy to be sniffing, happy to be listening hard.

Do all dogs listen as much as he does? My pup will frequently pause and just listen, perhaps attempting to decipher sounds I myself could not possibly hear. This is when I can use my camera with him.  I just wait for my pooch to go Zen on me.

We're back. He waits for me to do my morning routines and then we eat breakfast. He gobbles his before I even take all the fruits out of the fridge. 

Of course he chooses his squeakiest toy to play with. Henry, some people in the building aren't up at 7:15! Maybe you should tone it down a bit? I say this affectionately. I don't really want him to tone it down. The walls are thick. My pup is exuberant. We are in a warm, cozy home. Lights are on, dispelling any thoughts of that dark, gray, drizzly day. I catch the headlines but then quickly switch to music. How about Joyful Classical? 

And yes, we practice training. He's good at sitting on command, he's great even at staying. But "touch" was a new one for us. I concentrate on that. The goal is to have him come over and touch my hand with his nose. Not in search of treats, though he is amply rewarded when he scores a hit. The point is to get him to follow my hand when I ask him to do so.

He remembers none of it. His eyes are on the treat bag. Eyes on me, Henry. Okay, he knows that one. But his nose is far from my hand. Touch doesn't happen. 

We start again. From scratch. 

(shouldn't we do couch time instead?)

 

 

In the late morning, Henry is back at doggie daycare. That's great. I would not enjoy a dog park romp. And those muddy paws! How do you wipe down a dog after a walk in wet dirt? Best leave that worry to the daycare people.

I have one of those routine appointments one tends to have at my age (a scrape of the face if you must know) and because it is in the early afternoon, I cannot pick up Sparrow. The idea is for me to go from the doc's office to his home and from there we will drive over to pick up his sister. That's the plan. I see that I have time after the appointment to pick a box of free dog foods at Mounds Food Store. They offer these to dog owners who adopted rescue dogs. A marketing ploy if I ever saw one, since they know people who love their dogs will I never leave a pet store without adding things to the basket. This time I add more treats (training requires a LOT of treats) and also toothpaste. $12 for the toothpaste. Chicken flavored. The clinic suggested it. I tut-tut-tutted that one at check out, but I think the clerk was not paying attention to my tuts. I guess if you see a shopper with blood flowing down her cheek, you'd be a bit distracted by it. I put my dirty hand to my wound to stem the flow wipe my hand on my sweatpants, pay quickly and make my way back to the clinic.

Amazingly, I still  made it in time to pick up Sparrow and we aren't even late for picking up Snowdrop. She had a bit of Middle School girl drama, and Sparrow, too has his troubles, and of course, I've been rushing back and forth and I do so hate rushing. And there's the weather! It's rare that the three of us are all in a funk. I think we need a treat. We go to Clasen's Bakery.

It's not yet time for their big gingerbread house to be open for business. That's fine -- we are not yet fully in the Christmas season after all. But I need to stock up on cookies while Henry is at daycare, and I suggest that the kids pick up a treat for today, a treat of their choice 

I should have learned by now not to give an open-ended invitation to pick whatever they want. Because they cant decide. And pick things that are actually many treats wrapped into one package. And so the negotiations begin.

But it's worth it. I'm stocked up on cookies. They're stocked up on sugar.

In the evening we pick up Henry. 

Hey, my darling dog, should we practice touch? Don't look so puzzled. We'll start at the beginning...

 

 

with so much love... 

treats

I made the appointment with the vet soon after Henry came to live with me. We need to establish some baselines. And I have a few questions about caring for the pooch (big one: is he eating too little? Too much?). The vet I chose was an obvious pick for me -- Dr. Sarah. She herself has black labs and of course, I was told that Henry is mostly lab as well. (He isn't.) And I know she loves dogs. In fact I know a lot about her. Heck, I traveled to China with her some 25 years ago. She was my daughter's best friend in school (I invited the two girls to come with me to China where I was lecturing there for a couple of weeks). Dr. Sarah has many loyal patients, so I had to wait until today to get an appointment. Henry's first thorough checkup! (The shelter had done one before the adoption, but theirs was a cursory one. And I wasn't there for it, so I could not fire away with my questions.) That's for this afternoon. In the morning, the rains had moved on. My noble Henry seems to have moved his get up time to 6:30 and he held to it today. 

 

 

If you want to understand why dogs make people happy, then come along for a morning walk with him. Look at the curl of his upright tail! The sweep of that wag! The dog is a walking commercial for joy.

Breakfast, followed by time on the couch, where Henry tries to dive into being a Wisconsin dog by giving the "smells and looks like cheese" bone one more try.

And then I quickly drop him off for a short visit at doggie day care, while I drive over to the farmhouse to help with some final closet clearing. 

As I come up the driveway, all I can see is the work that I would put on my to do list here: the maple leaves that need to be shredded with a mower. The hydrangeas that should be trimmed.  The lotus seed pods, the prickly weeds... The flower fields -- oh, the work needed there! 

 

 

 

Will I really be fine with spending time here and ignoring it all? I hope so.

 

 

 

(Dance, munching on a mouse that she brought in from the farmette lands...) 

 

 

In the early afternoon, I dash to pick up Henry for his vet visit. I was floored by Dr. Sarah's care, professionalism, humor and of course kindness toward the ever shy Henry. These first visits are long if you need them to be long, and being somewhat alone in my rearing of the pup, I had a million questions. And here is this person who was once a teenager on a very long flight with me to Asia, now so adept at supporting me in my efforts. Truly a wonderful experience. (If you live in the Madison area, I highly recommend her and the Lakeview Clinic where she works. Incredible care.)

Henry, of course, was shy to enter the building, more shy still to enter the exam room, incredibly dubious of the technician who first came in to take down the basics, and slow to relax with Dr. Sarah. Velcrowed to my side, with only tentative forays to taste a treat. He did love the baby food, served to him straight from a jar. Pureed chicken! Yum! Not too far behind - something resembling Cheeze Whiz  squirted onto a plate for him to lick. He liked it so much that he went after the paper plate as well. I tell you, they worked hard to win him over! In the end Dr. Sarah said that he does better when I am not there to hide behind. She took him for a clinic walk in order to do a full exam.

I did ask her how much growing is still ahead of him. She thought maybe ten more pounds. She agreed that he was probably around 8 months old but wouldn't be surprised if he was a month or two older. There's some wear and tear on his back teeth, which she thinks may have been from some attempt to get out of somewhere, possibly during transport from Texas. 

It was late afternoon by the time we left. Still, I wanted to give Henry the treat of a run in the Penni Klein dog park.

I felt he needed a release of tension after what had to be a stressful set of hours. 

(coming round the bend is none other than my beautiful Henry!)

 

In the evening, there is no quiet time at the Edge for the two of us. Henry starts his obedience class tonight. I cannot wait for someone to tell me how to get Henry into the down position without physical force (which, of course, is no way to train a dog). That doesn't happen in the first class. Today, Henry had to do a lot of introductory listening. On the up side (from his perspective), the trainers are heavy treat reward givers. Between his usual treats from me, a multitude of treats from the vet, and the treats given during training class, I think he had his fill today. With this assessment, Henry would strongly disagree.

(in class, waiting for his reward)

 

 

So, another post about Henry, you say. One dog, many paragraphs. Perhaps you've figured out that I rarely do projects that I like in a small way. Kids (20 years of my full attention), cooking (including at a restaurant), flower growing (by the hundreds). Travel (many times each year), blog writing (daily). And now dog care. Excessive? No, just a whole lot of passion behind it all. 

And so much love... 

wet Tuesday

You will not have had many such subject headings form me this Fall. I can't remember when last I used an umbrella. Certainly not since Henry came to live with me some four weeks ago. But I am prepared! As I listen to rain pellets hit my large windows, I think -- I am very glad Henry has a raincoat.

Of course, by the time we go out (he woke me at 6:30! Good boy, Henry boy!), the rain has paused and we are now down to a drizzle. Still, it's a good time to try out this new and apparently needed dog garment. (Henry is very patient as I fit him with different collars, harnesses, sweaters and now coats. Honestly, he ought to be a show dog, don't you think? Because he also is patient with my photographic pauses.)

I love my morning hours with Henry: he is so routine bound and so very happy then. Always waiting for me to finish breakfast (I'm nearing the end of a mystery, Henry! Just a few more minutes!)...

 

 

 Always willing to put up with my need to snag a photo of his beautiful long silhouette, and his soulful dark eyes...

(yes, I even wear doggie sweatshirts that remind me of my boy...)

  

 

 

 

But on a day like today, I am also glad that Henry has doggie daycare. I would not be giving him enough exercise on our walks and I don't relish an excursion to one of the bigger dog parks. Too wet and muddy. And cold.

While he's playing with other dogs at daycare, I resume my tasks: the car needs minor work. I take care of that. And I absolutely have to finish reading my book. You know how it is when you're near the end... Finally, I have to bake some cranberry cornmeal muffins. The Edge is celebrating Friendsgiving tonight and I am once again going to try attending. Maybe Henry is ready to mingle with strangers? Maybe.

We come down... he hangs back. I coax him forward. It's like taking your child to a holiday party -- you want everyone to see the awesome person hidden within. Henry is a gentle pup and with that shy disposition comes a reserve that still makes him hesitate when approaching strangers. But I persevere. With treats. And maybe it's the friendliness of the management (a recognized scent for him), or of dog loving residents, or maybe it's the strong smell of turkey, but my pooch decides to relax and mingle. And when things are moving smoothly forward, he and I leave, because I do believe that you should exit while the impressions are sweet. Besides, I want my own time with the pooch too! Tomorrow he and I have a full day. Tonight, all is quiet and calm. 

with so much love... 

 

full Monday

I know some retired people who are so incredibly busy (I used to be one of them) that you have to wonder if they like it that way (I didn't). Because most of us do have a say in the matter of how we structure our days now, when the kids are grown and the job is a thing of the past. I didn't have to plant hundreds of flowers each year, or take care of grandkids, or write a post every day. Yet there was something that felt right about plunging fully into all three. And yes, all three filled a good chunk of a day. 

I have slowed down this (academic) year. I pretty much abandoned the farmette flower fields (though not completely -- I'm keeping an eye on what's going on there and I did plant spring bulbs by the dozens). And I reduced my childcare obligations to four days a week. On the other hand, I'm still posting here, on Ocean, and of course, there is Henry, my 8 month old adopted Rottie Dobbie Siberian Pyrenean Mountain Gentle Giant. You could say I'm still looking for the right balance of busy on the one hand,  and free to do whatever strikes me at the moment on the other. I'm closer to that balance now, but I realize, too, that it's a shifting landscape for me: with each year, adjustments have to be made.

My focus right now is definitely on these youngest members of my inner circle: the grandkids, and Henry. Ed likes it when I take the focus off of him. He is proud as pie of his self sufficiency and he never fails to tell me about the last wonderful meal he fixed for himself. Invariably it will have had raw onions and slices of homegrown garlic and tomato. Frequently wrapped in a corn tortilla, with room for Farmer John's cheeses, maybe cheeper eggs (way overcooked, but I'm not saying anything), and a very soft avocado. 

Okay! So let me reflect on how this day suddenly got so packed with such uninteresting tasks. 

It's because it is Monday and I have just come off of a weekend with Henry. He's not a total babe -- I can get stuff done when he is here, but there are some jobs that are better accomplished without his beautiful dark eyes staring at me in puzzlement. Like vacuuming up the car and spreading a protective cover over the back seat. And of course, picking up the week's groceries, which include now lots of Thanksgiving foods. A stop at UPS (to return a toy that is way too small for my Gentle Giant). At the pet store, to pick up those sticks that look like rawhide, but aren't. It all adds up. By the time I sit down for my granola bar and coffee (lunch!) I see that it's just about time to pick up the kids.

 

But wait, how was the earlier morning? Well, we didn't get moving until 6:20, which is the next level of wonderful. 

And I did take in a few chapters of my book over breakfast (they are short chapters).

And then Henry snoozes, while I gaze lovingly at his wonderful huge torso and sleek head, rubbing him occasionally, and of course, trying hard (not too successfully) to preserve this wonderful moment in a selfie.

Then come the chores. Henry is in doggie daycare, I do a bunch of store stop and go's and puff! Time's gone.

The kids had good days in school today...

 

 

 

 

Fortified by their weekly Culver's snack (I set limits!) and holiday Classen's cookies (all this after the fruit bowls), I'd say they had a strong bounce to them this afternoon. And still, mostly we read. And Snowdrop plays her computer game and Sparrow watches, fascinated.

 

 

We pick up Henry together. I do this so that the pooch can get used to their vim and vigor (and therefore the vim and vigor of others). They pounce on him with joy. He's learning not to be scared of that! 

At home, Henry eats and snoozes. He has been napping more, even at day care. To me, that means he has relaxed his guard. Even at doggie daycare they tell me he now takes naps in between bouts of play. But his contentment does make me less inclined to work with him on issues such as separation anxiety. I hate to disturb his newly found peace.

I watch him now play with his new bunny rabbit -- the squeakiest toy I have ever had the pleasure of listening to, and no, Kong dog toy maker, it is not indestructible...

 

 

 

... and I think back to the many conversations I've had with my daughters about this pooch. It struck me just today that the worry I have about keeping him busy, stimulated, active -- is fitting with the new approach we now take to our pets. Like with kids, we tend to worry too much about their boredom. We see it as a mark of our failure: did we not provide enough books, toys, activities, stimulation? Of course you dont want to keep your dog in an empty room for long periods of time, but maybe sometimes it's okay to leave him to his own antics. I packed the weekend for Henry. Perhaps he profited from it. But maybe next weekend, I can take it down a notch. (Or maybe not. I am very focused on the well being of this pooch!)

with so much love... 

a stellar Sunday

My good boy woke came over to get me up at 6:15! Perhaps it's the cooling blanket I added to his bed? He loves it! My pup thinks the wealth of sunshine that pours in during the day is... excessive. The place really heats up unless I open the window or draw the shade. Yesterday I did both and still, it was pleasantly warm for me and probably toasty hot for Henry.

I alternate our morning walk some. Today we go back to the field with the taller grasses. 

 

 

 

I was in it for the pretty sunrise colors in the sky. He was in it for the underground critter traffic.

Oh, Henry!

 

 

 

 (what, this is what dogs do...)

 

 

Breakfast. I listen to NPR stories, including one about fake Christmas trees. Normally I would tune out -- I am such a fan of live ones! But this year I learned that the Edge does not permit real trees. Fire hazard? Mess created in the hallways? I don't really know. So I immediately went on line and purchased a fake one. They were on a good sale back in October. And it appears that this was a wise move, because we are to have a shortage of fake trees this year. Tariffs. The news person asked -- why can't we make fake trees in this country? I'm curious as well. Doesn't seem like rocket science. And I learned that actually most of our fake trees have always been made abroad, because no company here wants to undertake the project. Apparently it's intricate work making up those branches. And recently, people want ones with built in lights. (Not me: I'm not spending $100 more for prestrung branches.) No way are we going to do that here -- says the CEO of a major tree selling company. Bottom line -- they are more expensive this year and there wont be enough to meet the demand, so if you want one, the suggestion is to buy now.

 

 

 

It's obvious  that Henry will need a good frolic today. It's much cooler, barely above freezing, but there is plenty of sunshine. I should take him to Prairie Moraine -- the penultimate dog park. I briefly contemplate going for a walk and to the dog park near the farmette, but I'd be stopping at the farmette then (to pick up Ed) and I don't relish pulling Henry back from trying to chase the chickens. Are these hens like squirrels, forever an irresistible temptation? At some point I'll have to address this, but not today. [I watch several YouTube videos on how to deal with a dog who wants to chase chickens. In one, the dog owner trains her pooch to be around chickens, daily, repeatedly, until the dog is bored with the whole thing and learns to look elsewhere for excitement. That can't happen with Henry: our chickens run away at the sight of him. Nor is he at the farmette often enough to get "bored" with the whole chicken caboodle. In another video, the dog actually likes to catch and kill chickens. Is that Henry?? I hope not, but honestly, I can't be sure. Desensitizing seems not to have been the answer for that dog. The owner followed someone's advice and tied a dead chicken to the dog's collar for a few hours. Apparently, that did the trick. The dog never killed a chicken again. Let's see if you can guess why I wont be following that suggestion!]

So, Prairie Morraine it is.

( I can run with abandon??)

(are you coming already??)

 

 

(such blue skies...) 

 

 

(one last romp) 

 

 

Of course, it's not the only big walk/run for my boy today. Later in the day, just before sunset, I take him to Penni Klein dog park near me. For that last good run, with others, alone. 

 

 

This is the good side of early sunsets -- you get to witness them as you walk your dog in the late afternoon.

 (my beautiful Henry: I know it's what's in the heart that counts, and you've got that covered, but still, to me, you are stunning1)

 

 

In the evening, we are doing another family dinner -- I cook at the Edge, but then take the food over to my daughter's house. The dogs play, the kids play, I keep an eye on it all, as well as on the food. The photos are of the kind you take mindlessly, quickly. Kids, building with dominoes, riding a dog...

And eventually we eat...

 

 

 

I sit across the table from my daughter and I think to myself -- this is what family joy looks like. Kids, dogs, and happy faces, all around me.

 

 

 

Henry and I don't linger very long. It's a school night, and besides, I'm trying hard to get to bed at a ridiculously early hour. It worked last night! 

with so much love...