My Dogs

It was a year ago March 16th that some person unknown to me opened a gate to the backyard and stole Sarge, my Sheltie. He ran until March 31st, when he was hit by a car and killed instantly.

Words can't express the agony of those 16 days, so I won't even try. You can't stop your mind from returning to a bad memory, so I have tried my best in the past few days to stay upbeat, to concentrate on the joy of Gracie and Jake. Imagine my mindset when I opened a letter from my homeowners association to read that there was a complaint about my "dog" barking incessantly, keeping people awake at night. Would I please call the president of the association as soon as possible?

Okay. Deep breath.

I go to bed fairly early, because we get up fairly early. Usually I'm asleep by 10pm, due to Gracie getting me up at 5am. There are times I'm up later, but not too often, especially at this time of year. Could it be possible I am sleeping through my dog barking? No. Do my dogs bark when someone goes by the house? Yes, they do. But since the disappearance of Sarge, I have become a very responsible pet owner. I stop the noise cycle. End of discussion.

The woman I spoke with last night was very understanding. As far as she was concerned, she had the wrong person. I even suggested she give my phone number to the individual who had complained, and when they were being kept awake, to call me. I could assure them it wasn't my dogs. They could hear this on the phone.

But the fact remains that someone in this area seems to have a grudge against me, or wishes to cause me grief. So I am on my guard, and this is not particularly a good feeling. The point of this post is twofold: I needed to vent, and sometimes that is what a blog is all about. The other side is for all of us to be more considerate of our neighbors. You don't travel through this life alone. I do try to be a good neighbor. I would like that consideration in return.

Linda

The Bath

The Brats

When we got up yesterday morning, it was mild and delightful. So by 9 a.m., I had everything in place to lure the dogs, one at a time, into the hall bathroom for a bath.

You don't mention the word, "bath", when trying to do this. Just in case you didn't know that.

Getting the bathroom ready means I do not, under any circumstances, let the dogs see what I am doing. So they were out in the backyard while I pulled a stack of towels out of the linen closet, hooked up the spray attachment to the shower, and quietly closed my bedroom door. More on that later.

The dogs came in, had a Meaty Bone, and I bent down and scooped Jake up in my arms, carrying him to the bathroom. Before I could kick the door shut, the Little Shit was out of my arms, down the hallway, and playing with his sister in the living room. All attempts to capture him failed. Start over. Back outside to let them run off the energy, because now they know what is up, what mom plans on doing, and let a few minutes pass.

It took me another 15 minutes to capture this dog. Now, once he is in the tub, wet with shampoo being massaged into his back, he's fine. He'll allow me to scrub his entire body, trim his facial hair, whatever. It's getting him into the tub that has become a challenge. Gracie, on the other hand, walks down the hall with me, resigned, knowing that it is useless to protest. Yes, I have to pick her up and place her in the tub, but she stands there, looking pathetic, allowing the entire process.

The reason for closing the bedroom door is that my darling Diva Aussie will head for my bed once released from the bathroom. Dripping water, she just LOVES to roll on the quilts and pillows, knowing full well that this annoys the crap out of mom.

Is this a lot of work? Yes, it is. Why don't I take them to a groomer? Because this is one chore I am still capable of performing, and I'm cheap like that. Why pay someone to do what you can do yourself? Also, I am fiercely protective of my dogs. Just the way I am.

Today Gracie and Jake are both very loving, very close to me. "Mom, we smell good. Pet us." Spoiled rotten brats, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Have a good one.
Linda

The Aftermath

Whatever you do, don't look at mom and the camera

This morning I am grateful. The dogs and I survived the storm inside the house yesterday. My home is still intact, the dogs are fine, I'm great. A lot of residents to our south can't say that, and my heart goes out to those communities. It appears we are in for a wild and stormy spring.

After the second wave of thunderstorms and hail went through our area, the sun came out. Just as bright and welcoming as could be. So I took the dogs for a short walk at the YMCA not far from home, just in case it the weather changed yet again. We were out for about 30 minutes and the wind picked up, about knocking the dogs off their feet. Gracie, being the smart Aussie that she is, refused to take a longer route, and started pulling me back to the car. Sometimes you have to trust your dog's instinct, and go with it. Glad that I did. The wind was gusting up to 60mph within another 30 minutes. By that time, we were home, safe and comfortable.

Be safe.
Linda