a December 26th, 2010

  1. It Snowed In Tennessee

    December 26, 2010 by myeye

    Cheryl sent these photos of our Chase — seems to be adjusting well to the cold white stuff.  He’s never had snow in which to play before.  Even when he went to Canada, it was May and there was lots of mud, but no snow.  Merry Christmas, Chaseman — and have a wonderful New Year.

    It’s a long and winding road

    Hey, handsome man

  2. Eye Bolts in the Wall?

    December 26, 2010 by myeye

    I really didn’t want to do that — to screw eye bolts into the wall in the puppy room.  I have a litter of puppies maybe once a year — maybe.  So the room could go back to being the “parents’ retreat” when there is no litter.  However, the past 24 hours have convinced me that I need to firmly fasten the x-pen in place.  It has to be open at the dog door, so I can’t simply set up a dog show configuration in which it is a continuous square or a circle.

    So, what has happened?  The little devils are a combination of the most clever traits of mother and father.  I brought the four into the family room to play today and blocked off the laundry room dog door.  (You may recall that if they go out that way, they then slip through the wrought iron fence and run the back part of the acre).  I did not slide the cover all the way down and lock it — just dropped it in place which means there is an inch open at the bottom.

    Dog Door Open For Business

    Cover in Place

    Holmes was racing with the babies, I was trying to take video, and I realized there were only three puppies.  I went through the kitchen, family room, laundry room, bathroom — no Victor.  Maybe he escaped into the rest of the house while I was bringing the other into the family room.  So, I climbed over the gate and searched the entire rest of the house — no Victor.  I opened the side door off the laundry room and stepped out, I called him by name and by “puppy, puppy, puppy” — no Victor.  Finally, I opened the sliding glass door and there was Victor, sitting by the dog door — after all, I was calling him.  He must have put that smart little nose under the dropped locking door, flipped it up and let himself out.  He didn’t go out of the wrought iron though so when I called, he was not in the outside yard.  I was pretty worried about what I would tell everybody — I lost a ten-week old puppy.  How the heck do you do that?

    So, we’d had enough fun.  I put the four back in their pen.  I caught Holmes throwing a little ceramic Cardi on the floor.  He had taken it off the bookcase in the living room.  Interesting that it was red and white and looked like Inca.  It’s now missing part of its tail, both ears, and one leg.  Darn you, Holmes!  I brought him back in the kitchen, and sat at the computer to answer some email.  I heard dog feet on the wood floor.  Holmes and Inca were both in the family room with me.  I went into the puppy room and someone had pushed the x-pen away from the wall.  I put it back, noting that I could no longer avoid installing eye bolts, and called the puppies in.  Only three came through the dog door.  Now Udi was missing.  I went to the window to look out in their yard, and there was Udi.  He was on the floor in the puppy room, curled up behind a lamp with one of my shoes.  He had pushed his way behind the x-pen, run into the living room, picked up the shoe from beside the couch, and taken it back into the puppy room where he hid in a corner.  He was planning to decimate the shoe.

    X-Pen at the edge of the Puppy Dog Door

    The Scene of the Crime

    Eye bolts won’t be pretty.  Perhaps something can sit in front of them when that is no longer the puppy room.  I’m ready to send some of these babies off to their new families.

    I Did Nothing Wrong — Why’re You Staring At Me?