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About Lenore Hirsch

I live in Napa Valley and write humorous essays, poems, and short stories. I have published three books: My Leash on Life; Foxy's View of the World from a Foot Off the Ground; Leavings; and Laugh and Live, Advice for Aging Boomers.

HUH? WHAT DID YOU SAY?

oct 201401

Ellie always talks to me whenever we cross paths in the house and when we’re on walks, but lately I’ve noticed something is different. The house is more quiet. I’m not noticing any loud hellos or good-byes when she goes in or out. And it seems the doorbell never rings. Sometimes when I’m looking at her, it appears that her mouth is moving, but nothing is coming out.

It’s nice to be able to take a long nap and not be disturbed by all her noise. Sometimes she scares me when she sneaks up right next to me so quietly. She’ll touch my ear and then I spring up, ready to run. I like to nap in the places where she walks most, so I can keep an eye on her and not miss anything. She has stepped on me a couple of times before I was fully awake and able to move.

My nice calm human still sometimes bangs pots and pans in the kitchen sink, making an awful noise that prompts me to excuse myself through my door to visit the yard. But the world is becoming more peaceful, not so interrupted by other dogs barking, trucks collecting trash, and screaming TV’s. Yawn….I think it’s time for a nap.

EARTHQUAKE!

Foxy fall 2011 006 

 

I headed down the hall to see what that pile of stuff was at the end. The tall bookcase looked like it had decided to sit down. I saw Ellie’s light go on, so turned around. She looked at me with relief like I had been long missing and she had just found me. I heard her fumbling around in her closet, then she came towards me with pants on over her nightgown and the leash in her hand. That didn’t seem like a good idea to me. After all there was stuff all over the floor and she isn’t as good as I am at sidestepping rocks and holes and other hazards. She cornered me and put the leash on. Then she picked me up–hey, I’m not a baby, lady–and carried me to the dining table. She got down on the floor with an oomph and pulled me under the table. It was like she wanted to cuddle in this strange place, surrounded by broken glass, some of which she pushed out of the way with her foot as we tried to get comfortable.

She kept shushing me and then after a while said, “We need to go outside, Foxy.” Sounded like a good idea to me. So out the front door we went. The big pot that sits on our porch was on its side. It was dark, but people walked around like it was the middle of the afternoon. There were lights in all the houses. Ellie went next door to the old man’s house and rang the bell. He came to the door, they talked, and then she shouted back and forth to some other people on the street. After a short pee break, we went back into the house.

Ellie took me to the bedroom and closed the door behind us. “This is the safest room,” she said. She picked some pictures up off the floor, went around with a broom sweeping stuff and then after giving me a squeeze, she left the room. Locked in. Too bad. I shut my eyes, but heard her muttering to herself and lots of banging and crashing for a long time.

When it started getting light, Ellie came in and collapsed on the bed. But not for long. Soon we were both walking around the house. She had cleaned up my food bowl and gave me some fresh food and water. The floor was kind of sticky and there were bags of smelly stuff everywhere–scents of vinegar and something sweet. The furniture had all moved, but as the day went by, she pushed it all back where it belonged. She spent a lot of time in the garage, where I got a quick peek and saw bags and boxes all around the car. It smelled like paint. She smelled hot and sweaty like when we used to go for long runs.

It was nice to spend the whole day with Ellie at home. That’s a treat, as she usually leaves me and goes out somewhere in the car. I didn’t get a morning walk, but in the evening she took a shower and then took me out. She was moving kind of slow and bent over a little, but I had a nice walk. Not much new pee to smell in the park that day–maybe everyone else had a clean up day too.

Feeling Good, Run for It!

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This morning after our walk, Ellie took the leash off me when we got to our front lawn, like she always does. Usually I run like the wind to the front door, which is not in the front, which is kind of weird I guess, but that’s the way it is. Sometimes I have other ideas. One neighbor has little tiny dogs I only get to see in the park, so occasionally I turn before I get to our door and run next door. The front yard smells like those little tikes and I want to sniff it all. Ellie always finds me and brings me back home.

Today the gate was open to the neighbor’s yard on the other side,  so I decided to run there instead. His backyard looks a lot like ours only it has different plants and no dog smells. I got a little confused when I went up on his deck and saw a man behind the glass door. Huh? Wasn’t I at home? Then Ellie came jogging after me, the leash in her hand, calling, “Foxy, wait.”

I know what that means but I just didn’t feel like it. The man opened the door and seemed happy to see me.

“He wants to come in and visit,” he said.

Ellie was having none of that. She ran past me and waved her arm in the direction of home. “Come on, let’s go.” So I ran back out and around the house to our familiar front door. That was a fun game. I’ll have to try it again!

Pill Boy

Foxy 2013.2

So Ellie was gone again when I started throwing up. My tummy didn’t feel so good. I wasn’t hungry, even for treats. Mark put some fragrant rice in my bowl, but even that didn’t appeal to me.

Then at night Ellie came through the door and I knew everything was going to be OK. In the morning, she put me in the car and took me to the doggie doctor. After he poked and prodded and stuck me with something sharp, we went home. She had a handful of little bottles…something yummy for me, perhaps?

At dinner time Ellie had a row of little pills on the counter. I saw her stuffing them into those little chewy balls she gives me as treats. Usually, I chomp them right down, but not that night! I just wasn’t hungry. It was late and I didn’t know why she was putting the leash on me until–oh, no–she pulled me over to her and forced a couple of those pills into my mouth. Gulp. I didn’t like that at all. She let me go then, but I could tell she was upset. So was I!

I had a good long sleep after the visit to the doggie doctor. In the morning Ellie got the leash out and I ran out my door into the yard. No more pills for me, thank you very much. “No, Foxy!” she yelled. “I just want to take you for a walk!” After a long time, I finally let her apply the leash and take me out the door.

Usually after our walk, Ellie takes the leash off me while we’re on the front lawn and I run to the door. That’s the best part of the walk. Today she left it on, even after we were in the house and she dropped it. I dragged it around while she fixed my breakfast. I ate a couple of bites but still wasn’t hungry. Then it was pill time again. She held the leash and tried to put them into my my mouth. I shook my head and the pills went flying. Ellie was not happy. I heard her mumble something about “liverwurst” and she was out the door. The car started and the garage door opened and closed. She wasn’t gone long. I looked to see what she was doing in the kitchen when she returned and she gave me a cheerful greeting.           “Hey, Foxy. I have something special for you! Yum, yum.”

Really? She held out a little ball. I sniffed. Smelled pretty good. I took it in my mouth and swallowed. Not bad. Another one followed. Ellie was really happy then.  I slept a lot that day and avoided the leash when it was walk time. I was afraid more pills were coming my way.

“OK, Foxy. You don’t want to walk? No walk, then.” She sighed and gave me my dinner. I sniffed and decided to wait to see what would happen next. I was feeling a little dizzy and not hungry at all. She held out a ball of that liver-smelling stuff. Didn’t smell good to me anymore. I turned away.

“What?” she said. “What am I going to do now?” Then she started banging pots and pans and opening and closing the refrigerator. She put a little bowl in the box that dings when things get hot. Smelled interesting. She was making a grinding noise on the counter. She stuck her finger in the little bowl.

“Perfect,” she said. She set the bowl down next to my food bowl. Smelled like turkey, nice and warm and liquid. I took a slurp. Delicious. I finished the whole thing.

 

HOME AT LAST

Foxy fall 2011 004

Ellie had been gone for such a long time. Mark slept in the guest room and did all the same things she does. He talked to me, fed me, walked me, gave me treats, but it just wasn’t the same. No cuddles on the bed–well I wasn’t going to let him pick me up. No belly rubs. No squirts in my ears that make me shake my head and run away–well, OK, I didn’t miss that. I had some scratchy things in my fur that nobody was trying to get out. No visits to the doggie doctor–yeah for that.

Then one evening the front door opened and there she was! I had to stop and look and sniff again. Is that really you? She stopped to pet my head, but I wasn’t so sure about this. I’d gotten used to just sleeping all the time and checking once in a while to see what Mark was doing. She went to bed pretty fast that first night, after dragging the darn rolling suitcase into the house.

Over the next few days, she was too busy to do much with me. She kept getting up during the night and turning on lights and rummaging around the house. She unpacked the suitcase in the middle of the night, leaving whiffs of food and foreign smells all around. She left in the car and came back with a lot of food in bags; some of it was even for me.

Soon I was following her around waiting to see what she was doing, if it was time for my walk, if there was any food she might drop on the floor. And then she not only rubbed behind my ears and my back, but she picked me up and put me on the bed and we had a really good, just-like-it-used-to-be cuddle. I started reminding her when it was walk time and sitting under her nose when she was eating in case she felt like sharing a bite. Now I’m back to running at her when she’s putting on her shoes in the morning, just so she knows I’m ready for a nice walk. She even put that darn stuff in my ears. Yuck.

Things are back to normal with me and my human. But wait, she’s taking that rolling suitcase out of the closet again. Nooooooooooo!

Bath Scare

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My bath is always very exciting. I’m patient and still while I’m in the sink getting rubbed and soaped and sprayed, but as soon as she puts me down, I run in circles, shake, and try to wipe the wet off on the couch. Today I was rubbing away having a great time when the lights went out. Huh? I felt myself falling. I hit the floor, then heard some dog crying from far away–was that me? The next thing I knew I was awake and Ellie had picked me up, bundled in a wet towel. She put me in the back seat of the car and drove us to the doggie doctor a few blocks away.

I was still trying to understand what had happened and didn’t even squirm when she picked me up in my towel and carried me in. She sat with me on a chair and then we went into the little room with the cold metal table. By this time I was shaking, with a dim memory of all the awful things they have done to me in this office–stuck me, shaved me, probed me, put me in a cage for the day. Ellie finally put me down on the floor and I walked around, sniffing things. The man doctor came in, they put me on the table and, sure enough, he stuck something in my butt, then felt me all over and looked in my eyes, ears, and mouth. Lose something?

I was getting bored with the whole visit, but I could tell Ellie was more relaxed than she had been since I fell down. What was that anyway? I heard something about “not enough oxygen to the brain” and “seizure” and “vocalizations.” Then they took me away from Ellie and stuck me with a needle. Not too bad after the first prick.

Finally we got home and I got to have something to eat. After all the fuss, my fur had dried, so I curled up to take a nice nap.Ellie is always saying, “Getting old is no fun.” Maybe she’s right.

 

Link

Before Foxy…

Here’s a great pet blog with great info. and advice, including a mention of yours truly in the story about being turned down for a rescue dog. 

GUESS WHO’S COMING TO BREAKFAST?

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          You never know what will blow in on a windy night. I heard Ellie get up during the night and fiddle with the window coverings, which made more noise than they already had been making. Yawn… sorry, I was sleeping. We went out for our morning walk and I got to jump over sticks that were all over the sidewalk. Pee smells were blowing off the plants and into the wind.

As we turned the corner towards the park, there was a big, dark dog. He smelled friendly, but was more interested in Ellie than in me. He had no human with him and was panting like maybe he was thirsty or scared. He followed us for a while and then, when we made the turn to go home, Ellie called him to come along. Huh?

Yeah, I remember, she did this once before when there was a little curly haired monster who barked at me like she wanted to get her teeth into me. That time Ellie picked her up (and got bit in the process, I think), and we drove her somewhere and left her there.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, so when we got  to our house, Ellie put both of us through the gate to the backyard. Huh? But it’s breakfast time! Then she came out on the deck with MY water bowl and set it down, followed by a pan containing MY kibble. Our visitor lapped up most of the water (what a sloppy slurper!) and then lit into the kibble. I really didn’t mind that too much, because I prefer the soft stuff that comes in a can. Ellie always mixes in some kibble, and unless I’m really hungry, I eat around it and leave it in the bowl, or I pick it out and drop it on the floor.

I got to go in and start on my breakfast, but it was pretty crazy, because Blacky (that’s what I called him) didn’t want to be outside by himself. He started scratching on the glass. I could tell Ellie didn’t like that, so she let him in the house. He went straight to my food bowl and helped himself. She had to put it on the counter in order to save some for me.

Ellie made a phone call and put Blacky outside again but he wanted back in and stuck his head through my dog door. There was no way he was going to fit through there. So she let him in again. This circus went on for a few minutes, in and out, while I longed after my food bowl on the counter. Then the phone rang and after talking, Ellie calmed down. She started calling the visitor “Dylan,” but that didn’t help him to settle down.

After some more fussing around this big dog, who paced back and forth, wanted in the house, and kept panting like he was being chased by wolves, the doorbell rang. A nice lady came in, all smiley, holding a big old leash. She took one look at Blacky-Dylan and got all excited. I saw Ellie give the lady one of our books before she left. “Please give that to Officer McIntosh,” she said.

I finally got to settle down and eat my breakfast when the doorbell rang again. The lady was back without her dog, but she handed Ellie a bottle of something and said “thank you” a few times.  I’m happy to have peace and quiet again, the lady is happy to have her dog, Dylan is no doubt happy to be back home, and I know Ellie will be happy when she opens that bottle. Who says there’s no such thing as a happy ending?

If you’d like to read more Foxy adventures, check out my book, My Leash on Life, Foxy’s View of the World from a Foot Off the Ground. Get it from Amazon, your local bookstore, or you can read it on one of those glass covered reading thingies.