Terrier Thoughts

Ball park01 (1 of 1)

Chewy: So we’re at my favorite park and I find a yummy ball. It’s all fuzzy and wet and earthy and I’m having a jolly time ripping off the fuzz. I let her throw it for me a few times, but that fuzz is just so stinky and wonderful, I’d rather just chew on it. Only I look at another dog who is sniffing me and she grabs the ball and throws it over the fence! She holds up a different ball and throws it, but I know it just doesn’t smell or taste as good. I WANT MY BALL BACK! Can you help me get over that fence? Or around that fence? Or could you go get the ball for me? Pleeeeeeeze?

Advertisements

One-dog Night

Bed (1 of 1)

Warm bodies

snuggle buddies

relax together

hear heartbeats

wrapped in arms

embrace warmth

comfort in each other.

 

We drift back

to mother’s embrace

perhaps the womb–

place of comfort and promise

perception of life–

so strong, so sure

protected and safe

loved and nourished.

 

Explains why we like bear hugs

shoulders to lean on

caressing hands.

So lie still, little buddy

and let me hold you

while knowing deep down

you are holding me.

 

 

Ball Detective

DSC_0008

Chewy loves tennis balls. The first ones I gave him he immediately scalped and chewed until they were mere slabs of rubber. In the last year, he’s learned to take better care of them. He’ll chase them in the house or at the park and bring them back to me most of the time. It’s great exercise for both of us.

When I take him to the park to walk off leash, he makes it into a ball-finding expedition. As soon as he finds a tennis ball, usually one that’s worn and has been out in the dirt and rain so it’s disgustingly filthy (or deliciously so by his measure), he carries it with him for the rest of the walk, stopping occasionally to give his jaw a rest, guard it with one paw and check to see if I’m going to try to take it away. No thanks!

When there is more than one ball around, it creates a perplexing situation. At home, he’ll have one ball in his mouth when I throw the other one. He chases it and then stops, not knowing what to do, because he doesn’t want to release the one he’s got.

Today I brought a clean ball from home to the park. He chased it for a while. Then it rolled down a hill right up to a fence that provides a boundary between the enclosure and the street. There he found an old torn up and dirty ball. He let the good one from home go while he proceeded to chew on the yucky one. I refused to go down the hill to join him; there was no way I was going to pry that filthy ball away from him. So I went looking for another ball. There are always many balls in the fenced area. Sure enough, I found a nice newish one and threw it. Chewy ran after it, picked it up and took it down the hill to the area where he now had the ball from home, the awful one and the new one. I urged him to come back up the hill, but he wasn’t having any of it, so I went to a bench and sat.

I could no longer see Chewy from the bench, so that didn’t last long. I finally went to see what he was doing. He was standing at the fence wagging his little curly tail and trying to figure out how to get to the other side of the wire fence. You see, there was yet another tennis ball nestled in the leaves on the other side of the fence and he wanted that one too!

Oy! Enough of that. He wagged. He barked at the unavailable tennis ball. He looked the fence up and down, thinking if only he could jump over it or crawl under it. No such luck. I gave in and walked down the hill, grabbed one of the good tennis balls and urged him to come and get it. He ran up the hill, chased the ball and took it right back to the fence. This is the down side of having a smart (or is it just OCD?) dog. He wasn’t giving up on that unattainable ball.

Back down the hill I went, put the leash on him and dragged him out and back to the car. He can continue his pursuit of lost balls another time.

Doggie Aid

oct 201401

 

I haven’t wanted to eat and moving hurts too much. Ellie takes me out for a walk, but it is so much easier to just sit down. One foot really is hurting me. I howl at Ellie after she turns off the lights at night. I howl when she goes out. I howl when people come in, but nothing changes.

Then Ellie gets up in the morning and mutters to herself as she moves around the house. I pee on the floor before she can put me outside. So she stops and cleans that up. Then she’s in the hall bathroom making lots of noise. She comes looking for me, picks me up, and puts me down into the bathtub in some warm water. I would rather not have a bath, thank you very much. But the water just comes up to my tummy and she doesn’t do the usual scrubbing with soap and bubbles. She just strokes my back and keeps me from falling down. I relax a little, but then I’m ready to be out of there.

Ellie lifts me out of the tub, without much cooperation from me. I just want to get away, wagging all my legs like I’m still in the water and swimming. She dries me off with the usual big towels. While she’s drying me and I’m struggling, she handles my sore foot again and I hear a loud, “Yes! The water loosened it up!” She holds on tight and I howl as she pulls something that’s stuck to my paw. Finally she lets me go.

That was a few days ago. Whatever was making my foot hurt is gone. I can walk and jump again, although I still fall down a lot. Most days I’m doing my peeing and other stuff outside and that makes me feel like jumping for joy.

I love it when Ellie knows what I need! Time for a long nap…

To Walk or Not to Walk

to walk

Any critters lurking? Neighborhood noises? Water falling from sky? Food smells? Cold wind? Do I want to jump over that threshold? If I don’t move now is she going to pick me up? Stairs ahead…oy. Couldn’t I just go back to sleep?