A miscellany

I haven’t posted much on my blog lately and I’m feeling guilty about it. Not sure if I don’t have anything significant to say (always a possibility) or if I want to avoid discussing my doctor visits which have absorbed a lot of my time and thought (all good news).

Tonight there is just trivia on my mind. For one thing, at two, Sophie still jumps on all of us to get attention. The other night I invited my good friend Betty into the back yard for a glass of wine, and Sophie was such a pest, Betty said, “Maybe we should go to the front porch.” Last night, she jumped a lot on Elizabeth who can handle it but said she and her ex trained their dogs not to jump, as puppies, by using a little squirt of water. So today I got a squirt bottle, used it twice, and haven’t been jumped on. When she wanted to go out tonight, Sophie sat next to me and “talked.” I responded quickly, with lots of praise. Can’t believe it was that easy. We’ll see. Betty is now outraged that I’ve hurt the poor dear’s feelings. I think Sophie knows she’s loved.

Today I went to a birthday luncheon/reception for a friend’s father who is turning ninety. He’s lively, good company, active, still driving, always up for a good time—except sometimes he likes his routine. He tells wonderful, funny stories, and I admire him a lot. I want to be like that. Didn’t know three other people at the reception besides the family, so I talked at some length with the two I did know and ducked out early. Kind of proud of myself for going alone, because I really don’t like to go to that kind of event alone. I once had a good gay friend who made a wonderful escort—and I miss him to this day, though he’s been gone twenty years.

And finally, there’s my new cause—unprocessed foods. I’m outraged at Monsanto, and I saw a list of brands that Monsanto owns that nearly undid me. I thought I bought healthy foods but Campbell’s is on there, as is Nabisco (the fruit/health bars I buy for Jacob), and Hellman’s, which I always thought was the best mayonnaise and like now because they make a version with olive oil. But who knows what else? I doubt I’ll go so far as to make my own mayo but I will substitute homemade white sauce for Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom soup in casseroles, etc. And I’ve learned to read the code on vegetables so I know which are naturally grown, which organic, and which genetically altered—and I watch what I buy. Don’t get me started on what’s happening to our food supply.

It’s June, and I can hear fireworks in the distance. Not sure if it’s Concerts in the Park or what but I kind of like it.

Dogs--training them, loving them

Sophie demonstrating that she has learned "stay"

I"m not sure if I wasn't consistent enough or if Sophie, at almost thirteen months, has calmed down enough to learn some commands. Early on she was good about "sit" and "down" (as in lie down--not don't jump, which she hasn't quite mastered yet) and then she learned, to my surprise, "drop it" and "leave it." She got so that she would ignore Scooby's food if he hadn't eaten it. And she knows to wait at the open front door until I tell her it's okay to go out. She does that with a leash, and the last time I tried it with Jordan and Jacob on the porch, she completely lost it. Who knows what she'd do if no one was there and she wanted to bolt. Still we're moving in the right direction.

But now I'm delighted that she has learned (and accepted) "stay" and "come"--of course, so far she's only done that in a training situation. And when she obeys "come" I bribe her with a tiny bit of processed cheese--the kind I won't eat (hmmm, maybe I shouldn't feed it to my dog either!).

Being half poodle and half border collie, she's smart as a whip. Obedience is less a question of knowing what I want from her than of her decision about whether or not she wants to do it. But as she settles down, she's more inclined to do what I want. A friend posted on Facebook the other day about wanting a Velcro dog and I guess that's what I always want--a dog who will stick by my side, no matter what, lie contentedly at my feet, etc. In view of that, I have a poor record in choosing breeds--an Aussie who was wild until (but devoted) until he was ten and now this Bordoodle. Both as sweet and loving as they can be but independent, lively, with minds of their own.

Someone asked me the other day how much longer I plan to stay in my house, and I replied I never even think about that. I can't imagine life without dogs, and my current dogs would never survive in an apartment retirement home, even if it allowed dogs. (The other reasons I won't go there are for another blog.) They like the outdoors, and I like being able to open the door and let them run into the yard--okay, Scooby now sort of hesitates but he goes. There have been very few periods in my life when I didn't have a dog or two or three. Yes, they're work, and sometimes a pain, but they are so worth it and they return threefold the love you give them.

I frequently repost on Facebook dogs that are up for adoption, some in immediate danger of euthanasia, and it makes me wish I could take every one of them. Some people are cat people; I'm a dog person.

The naming of puppies

It may not be as difficult as the naming of cats, but naming puppies presents problems. I named my new Bordoodle Sheba, because I'd once had a farm collie (sort of, to me, a mutt Border Collie) named Sheba, short for Bathsheba Finkelstein (that is another long story not for here). But this pup looks nothing like my Sheba of forty-five years ago. Nor does she looke like a Sheba of any kind. Lots of names were put on the family table today--I discarded Roxie, although Mel, Maddie and Jamie voted for it, because I once knew a wonderful woman named Roxie who died tragically. Chloe and Zoe were considered, but I have a friend named Chloe. I discovered in the pup's papers that  though the breeder just called her Pink, her kennel name was Matilda Pink. Matilda might be shortened to Maddie (my granddaughter) but Tillie or Tillie Mae offered possibilities. Edie held out for Sophie, and that's beginning to sound good to me. In fact, I've been trying it out tonight.
I'm deep in the throes of introducing a new pup into an established household structure. When I got home this afternoon, all three animals needed attention at once--Scooby to come in out of the heat, Wywy to be fed, and Sophie to explore the house. Scooby lifted his leg on the pup (fortunately poor aim) as if to say, "Just want to be sure you understand whose house this is," and Wywy had one of his hissing fits--good thing he has no claws. I just now picked the puppy up which immediately made Wywy demand food. The pup escaped her playpen, but I have since connected the loose corners the right way and think all is well. She is happy as a lark with people around, but she whines like a Banshee if left alone in her crate or playpen. Last night, with the crate on my bed, she slept all night with one break to eat, potty, etc. And she let us all nap for an hour this afternoon--that's a habit for Scooby, Wywy, and me. We'll see what happens tonight, but I think for the first half day we've settled into a fairly good routine. Right now both dogs are lying at my feet, peaceful as can be. I'm trying to share the love.
A confession: I'm exhausted.
Many thanks to Jordan for making the trip to Frisco, to Jamie and Mel for being so hospitable to a new puppy in their two-dog, one-cat household and for treating us to delicious meals, to my granddaughters for absolutely loving Sophie and carrying her around, and to Jacob for wanting so badly to be part of holding her, training her, caring for her. It will be hard for him to learn, a bit at a time, that she is my dog, I will share, but he must accept what he can and can't do. I have a great family.