Maude
Somehow Duane and I are now parenting four dogs. This happened gradually. We began with a new Doberman puppy. Named her Maude. After we had owned her for about six months, the breeder called. "Hows the new dog?" he asked.
"Just terrific!" I answered.
"What did you name her?"
"Maude."
Silence…"Why did you name her that?"
"Because she's a Maude."
"Is she a good watch dog?"
"No, she's a Maude. Mostly she leans on legs, looks soulfully into eyes, and sleeps curled up in the old brown chair. She's quiet, obedient, tidy, and sweet. We love her."
When she sits stoically on the porch and looks intently at visitors, there is no need for barks, growls, or teeth. Strangers honk the horn. Friends come up and pat her on the head as she leans into their leg and looks soulfully into their eyes. Once Duane sent the kennel boy from the clinic to our house to pick up his forgotten cell phone. Maude was asleep in the brown chair, home alone. The boy walked in, picked up the phone, saw Maude and froze. She did not wake up. That's Maude. We love her.
When she sits stoically on the porch and looks intently at visitors, there is no need for barks, growls, or teeth. Strangers honk the horn. Friends come up and pat her on the head as she leans into their leg and looks soulfully into their eyes. Once Duane sent the kennel boy from the clinic to our house to pick up his forgotten cell phone. Maude was asleep in the brown chair, home alone. The boy walked in, picked up the phone, saw Maude and froze. She did not wake up. That's Maude. We love her.
Gertie is our second Welsh corgi. She is tri-colored, essentially black and tan with white belly, a stripe down her nose, half a white ruff, and white legs. She is needy. She wants to be held, but does not fit in a lap, so when she jumps into a lap, she is still for about five seconds and then begins squirming like a stranded beachmaster bull seal. She is not supposed to jump up on visitors, but does it anyway. She sits up so she is closer to a pat on the head. She is quite herdy. She tries to herd cars, mowers, hoes, brooms, the other dogs, people, and cats: anything that moves.
She tries really hard to talk. When I won't move in the direction she desires, she looks me in the eye and gives me verbal directions. Unfortunately, I do not speak corgi. She has those huge corgi ears, and every time anyone says the word, "food," those ears fly into the full upright position. Like me, she loves to eat, and should not eat as much as she loves. She stays at the right weight because we limit meal size and snacks…if only I had a feeder with such control.
Gertie is steadfast and loyal. She follows me faithfully everywhere I go. She is great on the leash and fun to take walks with. We love her.
She tries really hard to talk. When I won't move in the direction she desires, she looks me in the eye and gives me verbal directions. Unfortunately, I do not speak corgi. She has those huge corgi ears, and every time anyone says the word, "food," those ears fly into the full upright position. Like me, she loves to eat, and should not eat as much as she loves. She stays at the right weight because we limit meal size and snacks…if only I had a feeder with such control.
Gertie is steadfast and loyal. She follows me faithfully everywhere I go. She is great on the leash and fun to take walks with. We love her.
Eli
Our friends Jan and David Traylor are fellow Doberman lovers. In fact, Dave and I travelled together to buy his dog Mattie and our Maude. They are sisters. We each picked a pup. He put a red collar on his and I put a blue collar on mine, and we installed them in a big carrier in the back of his van. The pup with the red collar yapped all the way home. David accused me of switching the collars. I told him I had not, but would have if the other one was doing the yapping. Duane spayed Maude, but Mattie had a nice litter of purebred puppies. The Traylors were generous and kind and gave one pup (Lenny) to our son Todd and another (Eli) to daughter Sarah. When Sarah and her family moved to a home with a small yard, she gave Eli, then three years old, to us. When she loaded him into our car, he began to jump around from front to back like an idiot. I yelled at him to sit. Sarah said, "Mom, he is not used to that tone of voice."
"Give him a week!" I retorted.
We have had Eli for four years now. He is a lovely dog. He sings with the coyotes. He kills skunks and possums and leaves them for us on the deck. He does a terrific cold Doberman act, complete with chattering teeth, that works to get into the house, unless the temperature is above 70 degrees, or he smells like a skunk.
He and Maude sit together stoically on the porch and stare intently in unison at visitors. Like Maude, he is no threat, unless he smells like a skunk. We love him even when he smells bad.
Jazzy
Our veterinarian daughter, Sarah called recently and asked if we would like to adopt a JRT female six years old. Her family just added a new member, and the dog was two barky: kept waking the baby. We've had her now for about three weeks. She has settled in, translation: taken over. One would expect no less from a Jack Russell Terrorist. The Dobermans avoid her, and whenever Gertie tries to herd her, she gets her plow cleaned.
Jazz is too cute, black and white with a half and half face and one ear that lops while the other signals a permanent left turn. She trots around with jaunty self-assurance and has laid claim to a convenient chair in each room. She came with a cozy bed, which Gertie damn well better stay out of if she knows what's good for her. She has invented a game called "Throw the Rock." This involves finding a smooth brown rock from the driveway…not one of those chalky white ones. She brings said rock to a receptive looking human and flips it at a foot. If human does not pick up rock and toss it, barking ensues. There are two possible problems with the game: 1) human gets bored and refuses to toss the rock properly ie throws it into the horse tank or, 2) Gertie intercepts the throw and takes off for the north pasture. All's fair in canine sibling rivalry.
She is beginning to tone down the barking. She is beginning to come when called. She now only chases the cats when no one is looking. She has learned to sit on command and has stopped licking the CLEAN dishes in the dishwasher. We are learning to love her.
Our veterinarian daughter, Sarah called recently and asked if we would like to adopt a JRT female six years old. Her family just added a new member, and the dog was two barky: kept waking the baby. We've had her now for about three weeks. She has settled in, translation: taken over. One would expect no less from a Jack Russell Terrorist. The Dobermans avoid her, and whenever Gertie tries to herd her, she gets her plow cleaned.
Jazz is too cute, black and white with a half and half face and one ear that lops while the other signals a permanent left turn. She trots around with jaunty self-assurance and has laid claim to a convenient chair in each room. She came with a cozy bed, which Gertie damn well better stay out of if she knows what's good for her. She has invented a game called "Throw the Rock." This involves finding a smooth brown rock from the driveway…not one of those chalky white ones. She brings said rock to a receptive looking human and flips it at a foot. If human does not pick up rock and toss it, barking ensues. There are two possible problems with the game: 1) human gets bored and refuses to toss the rock properly ie throws it into the horse tank or, 2) Gertie intercepts the throw and takes off for the north pasture. All's fair in canine sibling rivalry.
She is beginning to tone down the barking. She is beginning to come when called. She now only chases the cats when no one is looking. She has learned to sit on command and has stopped licking the CLEAN dishes in the dishwasher. We are learning to love her.
No comments:
Post a Comment