Maddie and Perkins

Maddie. Been trying it out for a couple days. Don't know if it's going to take. But Madonna seems unwieldy--it's the name she came with and I frankly didn't have any better ideas. Mostly we call her "the kitten", but now that her size is beginning to rival Stevie's, that is starting to seem less like a workable solution for the long term...

One point in favor of the name is that the girl does seem to have a touch of the madness. Case in point, now that Perkins has made it fairly clear that he has no plans to eat her, she's gotten downright bold. I'm still feeling tentative about the degree to which I can trust a dog with a strong prey drive to be gentle with a small animal. But Maddie has decided it's perfectly okay to bat at his tail as if it were a toy. She is, at least, smart enough to wait until I've clipped a leash to Perkins' collar before pulling this move. Still it gets me thinking "What exactly is the difference between doing something "bold" and doing something "stupid". I guess the answer to that question, at least in part, is, do you live to tell the tale?

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Really wish I could have caught a picture of these two that looked a little less like Perkins was tasting Madonna (okay, I will most likely go back and forth with the names). But the interactions tend to be brief, and the other two pics I got were much blurrier. So you'll have to take my word for it that there have been downright sweet moments in which Perkins licks the cat on the nose, or she affectionately rubs the top of her head against his face. I am still careful not to leave them unsupervised in a room together, but it does appear that these two are sorta kinda working out something like a friendship.

Perkins workin' the bling

You may recall that a few days ago, Perkins' collar broke loose, and Perkins took the opportunity to go on a merry romp through the neighborhood. The experience was NOT so merry for me, who still had geriatric Winnie in tow, and was dealing with a twisted ankle. But there was no way I could go back home for reinforcements, or I would have lost sight of where Perkins had gone off to.

Anyway, Demetrius has come up with a solution to the problem, which is to use a second chain (originally used as a choke chain) to attach Perkins' prong collar to his harness. This way, if the prong collar becomes unlatched again, at least SOMETHING is still attached to Perkins. Now my boy is sporting quite a bit of metal (the prong collar is somewhat hidden in his fur, so you can't see it all that well.

But it's making me think that I should go all out and get some big honkin' medallions to hang from his collar while we're at it.

Beware Renee under delusions of cleverness

Here's the scoop. I twisted my ankle--YES, again, a couple days ago. Walking down to the basement and missed the final step. Thought I was actually on the mend fairly quickly, but guess I overdid it with a few little errands over the past couple days. Son REALLY has zero tolerance for the dogs, and even though Perkins is being AWESOME with respect to showing restraint around the cats, it still seems to make sense to crate Perkins when I'm going go be away from the house and can't supervise (or witness the circumstances as they REALLY unfolded). So Perkins was in his crate at I went to church and ran the odd errand. 

A while back, my mom gifted me with a prong-type collar for Perkins. One does not need to exert a lot of force to make once's presence known. Winnie doesn't need a whole lot in terms of control, but she DOES get wicked jealous if Perkins goes out on leash an she doesn't. So, the clever bit was that, given the extra influence of the prong collar, and Winnie's advancing years, I probably COULD manage to take both dogs out for a brief "pee walk" at the same time. Worked just fine the first few times I tried it, and I was, I think, justifiably pleased with myself. 

Sadly, the prong collar came apart today and fell to the ground, Perkins escaped, and I had to go get him, with Winnie in tow.

He's home safely, but I don't feel so good. Going to rest for a bit. And, Perkins is probably not grounded FOREVER, given that he at least DID is on command once I finally had him more or less cornered in a yard.

Gentlest alarm clock EVER

Perkins has been an absolute doll baby this weekend!

Madonna looking for breakfast

Okay, I've missed Madonna something awful. She's been staying in Chicago with my brother, Paul since around the time I got back from the hospital. Hoping to reintroduce her to Perkins while keeping his prey drive in check. He is a good boy, but there are some "triggers" that he can't seem to resist. Like anything darting past him. Or humans with wheels on their feet. That's just WRONG. It's an abomination before Dog.

Now tell me something I didn't know...

Trying to make sure Perkins is up to date on his shots. Looked up the vet I've taken him to, and the reviews are right on the money. Dr. J.E. Trego is a wonderful, caring vet, and very affordable if you are taking your pet in for routine vaccines and annual exams--keeping rabies tags up to date and that sort of thing.

But nothing I've looked at so far has indicated what hours he is open--for example, is he open at ALL on the weekend. Here's a typical review:

Very good service! Dr.Trego is very gentle and informative. The price for service is unbeatable. I have reccomended him to many friends. Impossible sometimes to get a hold of!

Tell me about it! But he IS a great vet and a nice person, and doesn't try to "sell you up"--for example, he didn't try to talk me into having a geriatric golden retriever mix sedated (potentially risky at any age, in my opinion) just so that she could have her teeth cleaned. 

Update: Finally found a page that listed his hours. Not open on Saturday or Sunday. Kind of a bummer, but at least I can take that item off my to-do list for the day! 

I honestly think that in this day and age, every business should have at least a basic web page. But I might be biased--Demetrius and I design web pages (when we can get the business and the person or organization doesn't need too many "bells and whistles".)

My "Energizer Doggie"

We were at the park for a solid hour. I eventually had to take him home because it was dark outside.  Perkins wasn't tired. Not in the least.



Autumn walk with Perkins

Perkins learns some words

When Mom came into town for Son's graduation, she brought her dog Pablo and stayed in a hotel. For two of the nights she was there, I brought Perkins and stayed the night. I enjoyed some nice visiting time with Mom, and the two young dogs got to romp together.

I'm not a morning person, and, if I don't remember exactly where I set my glasses before going to bed, I am pretty useless until I either miraculously find them, or go ahead and put my contact lenses in. So I was kind of slow on the uptake when Mom started saying things like, "Did you know that Perkins can bow?"

I was confused, but then looked over at Perkins doing his deep morning stretch. Mom says "That's a bow! Good bow Perkins!" Then Perkins starts in on a sneezing fit. "That's a sneeze, Perkins! Good sneeze!"

Okay, I get it. And I was impressed. I also realized that I could cut myself some slack for not being as good labeling things for my dogs because I hadn't really done it before. I think Mom has been working with her dogs like this long enough that it's become second nature.

In the month and a half since then, I've been consciously working on this--and shifted my thinking from "I'm going to teach Perkins these commands" to something a little closer to, "I'm going to work on teaching Perkins the words in English that I want him to know."

He definitely knows what "treat" means now. I will promise him a "treat" right after he makes a "poop", and will bound excitedly to the door so that I can let him into the kitchen and he can collect his reward. He also seems to know what a "toy" is, but only his "elephant toy" is super special and awesome.

So if I ask Perkins, "Where's your elephant toy?", he will immediately start wagging his tail. "Go get your elephant toy!" Tail still wagging, Perkins begins to track down his favorite toy.

Early this evening, I had both dogs out in the yard together. My main goal was to make sure that Perkins got in a good, tiring play session so that he would more or less happily rest in his crate while the family watched something together. Perkins doesn't understand that Son wishes to impose a restraining order that would require that no part of a dog's body can ever come within 6 feet of him. (Especially that infernal wagging tail!) So the only way "family time" can be a more or less positive experience is for Perkins to spend that time quietly locked inside his crate.

So I was trying to play with Perkins. "Here's a ball, Perkins. Can you go get the ball? Bring me the ball, Perkins!"  I'm trying to work up all this excitement, and then throw the ball. Perkins just gives me this look that says, "Yeah, sorry. I don't care much for those."

Then I see the stuffed Winnie the Pooh doll--which remains remarkably unmaimed. He owes this good fortune to fact that he is stuffed ONLY with fluff. No squeaker. So I pick up the toy and throw it, saying to Perkins, "Where's Pooh?" And immediately I realize, aw, crud, that sounds way too close to the word "poop". So I switch to "Where's Winnie--", and then look over at my other dog. Damn, that name's already taken! So finally, I came up with "Where's your bear toy?"

I never imagined play time could be so mentally taxing!

Elephant Ears

From This Week Community News:

From rides to livestock, pork loin to elephant ears, art to bungee jumping -- the Ohio State Fair, as usual, offers satisfaction for most any taste. 

Perkins sampled some elephant ears today, and while he approves of the mouth feel, he remarked that they don't really "haz much of a flavor".

What this elephant does have is something crucial for a toy that has any chance of becoming a favorite--a squeaker. So I think now is the time for muddy, chewed up Mr. Lion to slip away quietly...in the night.

My great big puppy

Perkins got away again last night. In the dark, when I was taking him out for one last potty break for the night. I ran to try to keep up with him--clearly a lost cause, but I need to keep him from getting TOO far ahead of me. Whoever he was running to greet apparently ignored him, and he started to run back in my direction. I called him, but he just started to run past me. 

Then I tripped. I have no idea who it was that suggested pretending to fall as a way of getting a dog to come back. I wasn't pretending when I fell, but I remembered the idea at that moment and stayed down. Perky came to me, and I was able to get a grip on his harness and lead him back to the house.

Anyway, we are now reevaluating how old this boy actually is. Socrates, the first cat Demetrius and I adopted together, died when he was allegedly only 8 years old. I say "allegedly" because that was his accurate age only if he was genuinely 2 when we adopted him from a shelter in Chicago. Since that time, I've learned that shelter are often only "guess-timating" when they tell you an animal's age. Absent any dental evidence to the contrary, it seems like adult cats of unknown origin are always two years old. 

It seems like the opposite may have happened with Perkins. Supposedly, he will be 4 in September. He sure doesn't act it. But I assumed what the shelter told me was accurate due to his circumstances. According to his description, he ended up in the shelter after his owner died. I thought he'd been brought in by a family member, but apparently that is not the case.

All I was able to find out is that the mailman found him, got someone he knew to look after Perkins temporarily, and it was *that* individual who signed the release papers at the shelter. So it appears there is no "solid" evidence that I actually adopted a 3 1/2 year old dog. And he sure still has a lot of "puppy" in him!

Lucky for me, my boy is not always on the move...

Videos

Not everybody likes this game

I miss Brady, but I'm happy for Winnie that she now has a dog in the house who's willing to play with her the way she's (apparently) designed to play. I can only imagine the doggie conversation that took place between Winnie and Brady shortly after Winnie came to live here.

Winnie: I'm bored. Wanna play something?

Brady: What did you have in mind?

Winnie: Let's play "Bite each other on the face!"

Brady: I don't think I'm familiar with that one. It doesn't sound like fun.

Winnie: Are you kidding me?! It's the best game EVER! I can't believe you've never played it.

Brady: I don't know--maybe we collies play it, but we call it something else. Tell me about the game--how do you play?

Winnie: Wow--I never dreamed I'd have to explain this. We...bite each other. On...the face.

Why are you looking at me like that? It's fun!

Perkins takes a break

He's been playing "catch" with himself.