The Exception

The rule in our house is dogs don't sleep in the bed. It works out great because Stella knows that occasionally I'll invite her to lie on my bed during the day or under certain circumstances but when night falls, her bed is hers.

When we went to Baltimore and Atlantic City last month I didn't even take her bed along with us so all bets were off and we shared the bed. One day we hiked (not very far, I think it was a mile and a half) up to the home of Edgar Allen Poe. It was hot as Hell and included buses, construction, big noise and hordes of people going to and from work, not to mention at some point, all the accoutrements of ghetto sidewalks (broken glass, syringes, beer cans, used condoms and the like). I doubt Stella even noticed any of this but without so much as a band-aid on me, I certainly did. It was a tough three miles brightened only by the fact that we made it back without injury or dognapping. I don't know how many of you (goofy-ass white women) have strolled through the ghetto lately with your pit bull but the locals, though extremely friendly, had a look of disbelief on their faces usually reserved for things like mirages - or ghosts. Had it not been for the dog, I would've spent a lot more time up there and made pictures of them all but it was clear early on that we were in dog fighting country. I felt at the time, it was best to keep moving so we pressed on. Unfortunately, the Poe House was closed when we finally got there but I did take a photo of it. I'll put it in the next post.

When we returned to the hotel I left Stella for a bit to go and get something to eat. I made a point of getting back as soon as possible thinking she'd be pacing the floor and feeling abandoned in this new strange place.

Uh - negative. When I returned this (above) is how I found her. She didn't even notice I was gone.

On the morning of our departure we took a vote and decided that the beds in Heaven couldn't possibly be any better than the ones at Hotel Monaco.

Fingers Crossed

Two spays, two neuters, four combo tests,
Seven FVRCP shots, hook worms, eight doses of dewormer,
One dose of antibiotic, three vacuum cleaner bags,
Fifty-four POUNDS of cat litter.
Carried to a trashcan - in one pound bags.

Five trips to the vet.
Eleven pounds of cat food. One very nice cat-sitter.
Fifty-thousand fleas. Sure, I'll repeat it:
Fifty. Thousand. Fleas.
That's an estimate; I stopped counting and started
going off my nut at twenty thousand.
Four doses of flea medication. Five, if you count my own cat;
who by the way, didn't have a flea all summer long.

I officially hate my neighbor now, but I'm trying to work through it.

Praise Jesus and knock on wood, as of tomorrow, Roy, Buck, and Lulu
are about be out of my basement; for a little while anyway.
Mama isn't far behind.
Run, don't walk over to PetSmart at Hundred Oaks and get yourself one.
They couldn't be any healthier than they are right this minute.
They're really sweet too.
And well-behaved.
They haven't turned over or climbed a single thing.
Swear.

Close encounters

These were leftover from last weeks Pooch Plunge. Aren't the two of them wonderful? With all due respect, I think they should enter a dog/owner look a like contest. The best part is they didn't do it for my benefit. I took that first shot before anyone knew I was there. Apparently that's a pretty nice dog too.

Last night I found out that some friends of mine have a dog that does Fly Ball competitively. It even has a pretty high ranking and they're going to Indiana next week to compete. They were supposed to go to the event last week too so of course, I confessed again about that rogue dog that crashed their demonstration :)

Okay, moving on. Stella and I were charged the other day by a dog we'd never seen before. This time it wasn't a purse dog though. It was a Pit Bull that first barked at us from behind a fence. It sounded pretty vicious but I didn't give it much thought since Stella sounds exactly the same way on occasion. I have to say though that it was early in the morning and when that dog came charging (across a busy street) at us I was more than a little freaked out. In the background I head a little boy scream "Spiiiike!!!" I stepped in front of Stella and did my best halt command; big man voice added to the traffic cop hand, and the dog (I'm happy to report) stopped in its tracks.

The dog's owner laughed at me and announced: "Don't worry he's friendly."

All I could think of to say "I guess you're lucky mine is too."

It definitely sounded a little bitchy but I couldn't help myself. There's nothing like having all the plaque in your arteries loosened at seven-thirty in the morning.

Pooch Plunge 2

Since we're on the subject of water (and way behind), this last Sunday we went to the Pooch Plunge at Nashville Shores. It was a benefit for Nashville Public Television (NpT). Some of you may remember we tried to go last year and the weather didn't cooperate for them and it was eventually canceled. This year though, was another story altogether. There were tons of dogs. Stella had a lot of fun although for the first hour it was like chasing a delinquent kid around.

As usual, before we went I took her for a long walk to (presumably) expend some of her energy but this time, under such stimulating conditions, the long walk just didn't take. Once we got into the gate and I let her off the leash, she went tearing off around the outer perimeter of the event like a freight train. It was basically harmless but managed to score her lots of attention. By far, it exceeded the efforts of any and all herding type dogs in attendance. When she finally burned off the top layer (believe me there were six or seven left to go) she discovered that the sponsor tables had treats on them and that if she ran up to the table and gave them the look, they would give her a treat. Now, you might ask yourself what happened when they finally cut her off? Well, she either stood up on the table and demanded one or waited until they looked away and rammed her whole head off into the bucket and helped herself (ahem!) Very unladylike. Very unStella. Bad. Dog.

Once I was finally able to get her to understand that there were consequences to this sort of foolishness, she gave up on the food and crashed the Flyball demonstration. I looked away for two seconds and heard someone yell "Wait! Where did that dog come from?" When I followed their gaze she was chasing the Flyball dog and I had the urge to just say: Jeez, I don't know but somebody needs to get control of that thing. Again, harmless but totally disruptive. She did the same to some pups taking the Canine Good Citizen test. It was a good chance for her to experience the fact that not all dog interaction involves playing. Understand - her version of playing goes two ways-- Chase and Smackdown Wrestling. She's as happy to be chased as she is to be the chaser and she'll adjust her speed if it's a little dog that she could easily overcome; those are the ones I love to watch.



She got into the water a time or two and was very curious about the dogs that were busy retrieving things but never actually made an effort to swim (basically killing my theory that if she saw dogs swimming, she'd copy them.)

Then she found two playmates one after the other who thanks to their owners, gave her the work out she was really after. The first was a young Great Dane named Bella. She was pretty gentle but not intimidated (as some dogs are) by her rough and tumble approach. The second dog was Sampson and for the record, if Sampson was our neighbor I have no doubt he'd be Stella's new boyfriend. The two of them wore each other out. He was a young (competitive) dock-diving German Shepherd. After several rounds of full-throttle playing which I might add, scared the crap out of some patrons, and the life guards, he was the only dog there able to lure Stella into the water. She still didn't swim - but just like all the girls with a bad boy crush, she followed him right in there against her better judgment.




Needless to say, this all culminated in one big satisfied snooze complete with snoring all the way home. We had a great time (minus the initial craziness and if any of you Flyballers should happen by here - we apologize again) and hope the folks at NpT made a big wad of dog-friendly cash. Thanks for the swim.

Stella with Old Barney

We caught up with a different incarnation of "Old Barney" in Long Beach Island, New Jersey. Someone sent (our) Barney a postcard once with a picture of this lighthouse on it and since Stella and I were looking for a beach it seemed like the thing to do. Stella discovered horseshoe crabs on the beach there. She tried to get it to move and when nothing happened she uh.. relieved herself on it.

Atlantic City: gamble vs. gambol

When all else fails, ask you waitress. There isn't a thing online about any dog beach in or near Atlantic City. Stella and I took our chances and looked for local dog lovers. It was tricky to find it but once we got there, I just wanted to pitch a tent. We went three times and three times Stella forgot all about her Bulldog side and tapped into the Terrier for a change. She'd eyeball the ground suspiciously and launch herself into the sand, digging as hard and as fast she could go. She would then freeze and snap her teeth a couple of times (possessed) and have another go at it. It was better than any casino.

Bear, the smaller of the two dogs above was a big dog trapped in the body of a small dog. He gave Stella the wrestle of her life and it was wonderful to watch. He had the best moves. His owner and I just stood there laughing the whole time. The other dog, Seamus had a pretty good time too. He was the only dog that manged to lure Stella into the water deeper than she would've normally gone. She still never got the hang of swimming out there but she was totally curious about the dogs that were able to.

Canine tourism

I still have a few posts from Baltimore (and beyond). Locals won't be too impressed by the tourist type pictures but it was such a treat to be able to walk a few blocks to the harbor from where we stayed that I did it repeatedly. It was actually pretty sweet, as tourist districts go. They seemed to have all the right ingredients: music, food, water, boat rides, a fountain for the kids to play in, dragon boats to pedal (I wanted to take Stella out on one of them (what a photo op that would've been) but the line was too long and I doubt she would've been allowed anyway. It's funny but of everything in and around the harbor, those were what fascinated her most.



On the far side, just below Federal Hill there was a carousel with dogs and other animals on it as well. I took a photo of it and realized that for the first time in nineteen years, the fair was setting up back home in Nashville and I wasn't there. Good thing we were in Baltimore or I might have been missing it a lot more.

Federal Hill overlooks the harbor and it's a great view too. We hung out up there while we waited for the tour boat to arrive. Again, Watermark Cruises was the only tour I could find that would let Stella ride along. It was a forty-five minute cruise for fifteen bucks. For a dog that can be kind of skiddish on a slick surface, she did an amazing job of climbing the steps between decks. I wasn't the only one stunned by her willingness to descend the nearly vertical steps. We never made it to Little Italy and I'm really sorry about that. Well okay, we did do a drive-by - but it'll have to wait until the next visit if there ever is one.