Jaci Dawn

Harvey is not going to be a little dog. He’s slightly taller than Murphy and take a look at those paws. Right now, he’s severely underweight (a common problem with some young birddogs – you can feed them and feed them, but like a rail-skinny teenage boy, they don’t gain weight until they’re about five years old.)

Harvey knows a lot of voice commands: Here, Down, Stay, No. I don’t have to raise my voice too much to get his attention. He obviously has a willing heart and he’s rapidly learning that he may not pull or strain on the leash when we go walking. He doesn’t *like* to heel (birddogs want to be out in front, but that’s unacceptable on a short leash), but he’s learning to and my arm doesn’t feel like I’ve been dragged by a dog.

That’s a good sign: I don’t want a dog I have to fight with on the leash! We’ve met two other dogs while out walking and Harvey remained calm while they passed. Bicycles don’t faze him. His only weakness is cats (he wants to point at them and then he wants to chase them… He’s worse than Murphy with cats).

There are challenges with Harvey. One of them was finding a name he responded to, but he likes Harvey and comes every time I say it. Harvey, by the way, was a “pooka” that befriended Elwood P. Dowd in the 1950 movie of the same name (Jimmy Stewart stars). (If you have never seen the movie, rent it NOW.)

Harvey’s challenges:

1. He’s never been crate trained. He doesn’t want to ride in one in the back of the car or sleep in one at night. He wants to sleep on the bed. Even if I was inclined to allow him to seep on a bed, he hasn’t had a bath and he’s urine-soaked at present. He can’t have a bath until his surgery stitches are healed and dissolved.

2. He’s a barker. Sharp, loud, and constant. I didn’t want to resort to such a thing, but a $50 bark collar has been a great help. We’re only using it when Harvey is kenneled (when he is most prone to non-stop barking for attention’s sake). If Harvey wants to bark other times, he is free to do so (at strangers, to “talk” to us, normal “happy” barking – just not attention barking).

3. He has not been kennel trained. Unfortunately, since both Don & I work during the day, a kennel is the only way to keep our dogs safe. The fence is too low in front * & unlocked. Leaving a dog in the house only invites property damage. Fortunately, Harvey did well in the kennel yesterday while we were at home (five hours of supervised kennel time – we did not go out and play with or talk to him, but we monitored him and he knew we were there). He must have done well today (8 hours of kennel time until Don got home) because there were no nasty notes from neighbors on our front door.

Eventually, we will get the big dog run built and he will have more room. It will have a concrete floor and a ceiling to prevent digging and climbing. The kennel had a cover and a plywood floor for the same reason. Murphy’s kennel is on concrete & has a roof, too. But Murphy has always been kenneled. (Murphy also digs…)

and the biggest challenge: Harvey does not understand staying behind a fence. Our first day together, I allowed him supervised freedom in the yard. That lasted until he started digging and pulling at boards on the fence. And then he took a run at the only short fence in our yard, right out in front: 48″. Murphy has never bothered to try to jump THAT fence, but it didn’t stop Harvey, even with his swollen little surgery site. I caught hold of him on the top of the fence as he was scrambling over.

He now has to be on an exercise tether in the back yard, supervised, until we determine how best to deal with his desire to run.

Don uses a shock collar on Murphy when in the field, because Murphy has also been known to attempt to run. Murphy is quite a bit more stubborn than Harvey and he’s had the shock collar up to 4 — only once, but… It works quite well with Murphy. Don has extra collars, but he needs an extra shocker. This is a great idea for when we finally take Harvey out in the field or the woods.

I’m not sure it will be the answer in the yard, BUT – I read that collar-smart dogs can have a “dummy” collar put on them and they will think that it is the same collar… A great idea.

I thought about an invisible fence inside the perimeter of our back yard fence, but that leaves out the Murphy equation. Murphy has never truly challenged the borders (except to hit the fence out front pretty hard and knock boards loose). Murphy would have more freedom than Harvey & I wonder if Harvey would notice??

(Note about that front fence: we plan on changing it out to an 8′ privacy fence. Zoning laws do not prohibit it. But the fence on the north side of the yard is only 5′ tall and Harvey can scale that by climbing just like he did the 48″ fence. Murphy doesn’t even think about it because 48″ is his limit. He’s too big to try for a taller fence.)

Harvey sees the vet tomorrow and I will ask his/her advice (it’s a clinic: we get who we get. They’re all great vets and have all taken care of our pets for over 20 years).

Meanwhile: crate training is going on. I am sleeping on a cot in the studio beside Harvey in the crate so he doesn’t feel abandoned. We’re keeping him in the studio because until his surgery stitches heal, we have to keep him separated from Murphy: no rough housing or doggie-dominance tests allowed until Harvey is well enough to rough-house back.

Murphy is beside himself. Here we brought him a playmate and he can’t PLAY with him! He’s barked, growled, and even stolen Harvey’s toys in an attempt to get Harvey to play with him. (When I say growled, I mean that sort of growl a dog makes when it wants another dog to play – not the “you better be ware” growl.) Tonight, Murphy brought a stuffed animal to Harvey and tried to get Harvey to play. It was a poignant moment. Harvey ignored Murphy.

I spent the past 48 hour trying every name I could think of on this dog. Several friends tossed in their favorites: Albert, Polk (short for Polka-dot), Chance, and I considered Lucky, Plato, Patch, Stripe, Beer… But the only name that Harvey has even remotely responded to on a consistent basis has been the last one: Harvey.

I figure I will lose that extra ten pounds I’ve been carrying in about two weeks’ time. If my walking partner can’t walk fast enough to get my heart rate up, two walks a day with Harvey will. Oh, yeah.

Anyway, the first 48 hours were kind of hairy. Don was very sure he didn’t know if this would work out (pay backs for Murphy!!), but tonight he said that Harvey was wonderful.

The next 24 hours will be touch-and-go: Harvey is slightly depressed, still in pain and swollen and I have a vet appointment for him at 5 tomorrow. He needs a clean bill of health and some pain meds. I think he’d like to be free of the “cone of shame”, too. (From the movie “UP!”)

Not really a cone anymore, but still awkward.

He just laid his head on my foot. Time to go and be a doggie mom.

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Javan is a year old and he’s full of personality. He’s fairly mild tempered (so far) which is great because his older brother is very bossy.

I had the privilege of hanging out with the boys yesterday morning: farmer’s market and shopping garages. Zephan held my hand most of the time and looked woefully at the strawberries his mother bought at the market. He also told me about every truck that drove by and made certain that Jay-Phen knew what the rules were.

Later in the day, we all gathered at the kids’ place for strawberry shortcake and “Happy Birthday Choo-Choo.” And I took photos.

Javan is still cruising furniture. His brother proudly told me that is a “Soccer!” in Javan’s hand.

Oh, be still my heart! These little guys grow up so fast! Javan actually smiles a lot now.

The Director. Who, by the way, informed me that Don’s name is “Baba” and mine is “Gamba” or something like that. I just know it isn’t “Gamma” but sounds like Grandpa. He announced everyone who came to the door and he drooled over all the presents. Silly boy!

Well, he liked every present he got. Now that’s an easy kid to please. Wait until he’s 13…

Eating cake is serious business. And Strawberries. And whipped cream. The boy leaves no food untouched.

Then we left and headed home only to see a beautiful rainbow!

We were almost at a rest area when we saw it, so we pulled in to take photos. Every car that pulled in to the rest area did the same thing. It was pretty wonderful to see how many people saw that bow in the sky and had to pull over to snap a photo of it.

One last photo: Baba, Daddy & Javan. Javan kept climbing up in Baba’s lap.

Happy Father’s Day, gentlemen!

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322/365

and

Photo 323/365

I have to tell you about the last one.

Don was not terribly impressed that I brought the dog home tonight. We’re so unprepared. And the dog is so hyper! And he is going to be a huge challenge with fences (already trying to dig out to follow the cats!) – but I know in my heart it will all work out.

We had to leave both dogs (Murphy & Sir Unnamed) in crates tonight while we drove to Durham for Javan’s First Birthday Party. The party was fun, but we excused ourselves early so we could come home and deal with socializing two dominant/aggressive dogs. And on the way home, there was this rainbow…

It was intense. It was beautiful. And we saw it before the last rest stop on I-205 north.

I took the exit into the rest area and grabbed my camera out of my bag. Four other cars had pulled over at the same time and the drivers were all bailing out of their cars with cameras in hand.

The rainbow was beginning to fade before we were in position to get a good shot of it, but… it was still pretty.

And by the time we pulled out of the rest area to cross the Abernethy Bridge on I-205, we could see both ends of it. Sorry there’s no photo of that.

Yeah. It was pretty.

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I thought it was odd that I didn’t hear from the pound by Tuesday afternoon. The dog was supposed to have been scheduled for neutering on Tuesday & I planned on getting him on Wednesday. By Wednesday, I was a nervous wreck but when I called the pound, all I got was an answering machine. And Thursday when they called me back, they said my home phone was disconnected so they’d given the dog to someone else.

Turns out that they were dialing a wrong number! But it didn’t matter: the dog was scheduled to be neutered on Friday and he was going home with these other people on Saturday.

And my heart went into a tailspin because I really liked that dog and I’d put myself through a lot just finding, meeting, and picking out a dog. Plus, I’d purchased a dog carrier and a temporary dog pen with a mesh cover so the dog would be safe while I worked. We don’t have the big dog run built yet.

I was angry, hurt, disappointed – a billion emotions all running amok in my heart, but mostly angry. Angry at the pound, angry at God, angry at myself. Mostly angry at God.

Who better to blame? Like my brother said in my comments, “These things happen for a purpose.”

I fully believe that, but I’d built up my hopes and expectations so much that when the rug was pulled out from under me, I felt like a five year old kid who didn’t get the lollipop in the grocery store and I was mad.

I went on the search again, wrote down a ton of phone numbers of breeders to call this weekend and searched through the pets for adoption lists online once more. Just nothing jumped out at me. Lots and lots of wonderful dogs that need homes and lots of hoops to jump through to get one.

Did you realize that it is easier to purchase a purebred papered dog from a responsible breeder than it is to adopt a rescue dog from most shelters? There’s the application, proving you have a long-standing relationship with a veterinarian, and having to load up the whole fam-damily including your present dog to meet the new dog in a neutral place. (Trust me: neutral is a key word: what happens when the new dog shows up in the old dog’s turf is what will make or break the deal.) Buy a dog from a breeder and he’ll ask a few questions, maybe require an application, but what he really wants is your money.

It was so much easier to drive to Everett, Washington to get our English Pointer (Sadie who died 4 years ago) or to make the long drive to eastern Idaho to pick up Murphy just 3 years ago. This venture of adopting a rescue dog has just drained me.

I knew I wouldn’t have time to even look today: Arwen needed me to drive her around this morning and tonight is Javan’s first birthday party. So getting a dog today wasn’t even on my radar when I woke up this morning.

What was on my radar was that it wasn’t supposed to be a quiet Saturday morning: I had planned on having to take a dog for a walk early. I groaned and tried to bury my head in the pillow. Finally, I just told God that I forgave Him and He could forgive me for being such a pill, and I’d just get on with my day as best as I could. Somewhere, the perfect dog awaits.

At 8:30, I picked up the phone to call Arwen and let her know I was on the way. There was a voice mail message from the Dog Shelter that just asked me to call them. ??? It was left late yesterday afternoon. So I called. I called at 8:30, at 9, and at 9:30. And at 9:30, I got a live person.

The people who were supposed to pick the dog up today changed their minds. Did I still want him?She went on to tell me that this was the third hold on the dog that had been broken this week: mine and two others.

I leave in about half an hour to go finalize the adoption and pay for the dog.

He *is* coming home to live with us after all.

I think God had a plan all along and it worked out so the dog comes home on a weekend when we have time to bond & get him situated for during the week.

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Ugh. I don’t even want to blog about it, but since I dragged you all here: due to a clerical error (not mine!!) the dog is going home elsewhere. So I am back to looking.

<sigh>

Meanwhile, I offer up to you this photo of a fledgling scrub jay that was sitting in the lodgepole pine outside our front window:

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I need to change my  blog intro… Because this is also where I discuss Bigfoot.

Yes! Bigfoot has been sighted again! This time in North Carolina. Now, I’m a little peeved that all the news reporters are making fun of it, but if you can get past their guffaws… Well, let’s just say you should read the article and watch the video: North Carolina June 2010 Sighting.

I don’t know if that man really saw a Bigfoot or not, but I do know that’s one strange homemade coyote-calling device. Quite possibly, the Sasquatch in question was offended by the unharmonious sounds coming out of that device and decided to pay that self-proclaimed “mountain man” a visit.

Hard to believe the Sasquatch was chased off with a stick.

Hopefully, someone gets down there with a sack of plaster to look for foot prints. It’s the only way we’ll ever know if Tim Peeler is telling the truth or not.

Dang! Why did this man not go get his camera??!!

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Photo #319/365   Rhododendron blooms after the bloom and after the rain.

I am giving myself permission to not complete the goal. I only have 46 more days to go to reach 365 days. A month and a half.

I also have company coming, weekends of hiking and camping coming up, and the addition of a four-legged two year old to my life.

I will continue to attempt to take a photo a day for the next 46 days, but I’m not going to beat myself up if I don’t do it. I’ve stuck it out this far and sometimes I’ve come up with some eye-catching photos (but most of the time, it’s been pretty mundane or I’ve resorted to photoshopping something). It won’t be the end of the world if I fail to reach this goal because this was somewhat of a contrived goal. A little challenge and I kept at it longer than most people I know who started out with the same challenge.

Truth is, I know that if life went forward uninterrupted, I could do it. But I foresee a lot of interruptions coming up in the very near future. So I have permission to fall short of the goal or to at least alter the goal a little. I’ll still carry my camera everywhere, but I am not going to try to post the photos every single day.

I know that the new addition to our family is very needy and he will take up a lot of my time over the next few days. I doubt I will get to the computer to upload the day’s photos every single day – and then blog about them. I’ll try, but if I don’t make it, I will combine several day’s worth of photos into one blog post and leave it at that.

It’s the same goal, just a different strategy. I’m giving myself permission to alter the strategy in order to reach the goal.

I can do this. 365 photos. Just maybe not posted every single day. But I am going to try.

(Why do I suddenly feel like the Little Engine That Could? I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…)

Why do I get the feeling that you, my readers, know I just talked myself out of quitting?

(<ahem> Because I just talked myself out of quitting.)

See you next post! With a photo for every day. I promise. I WILL do this.

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I put the flag out on my way to work this morning and left it up for Donald to take down. That’s all I did for Flag Day (I think it is all you are supposed to do).

The other things I did today included working, playing a part in a miracle, worrying about dog names and purchasing things for said dog. It was not as busy a day as it might sound, but it was kind of spendy.

I suppose I should tell you about the part in a miracle, but it really wasn’t anything. I just made a decision based on someone else’s demeanor and I asked my superiors for permission to make that decision. And the affected person said (through tears), “It’s a miracle!” And I was left to contemplate my own role in helping a fellow human out who so obviously needed a hand up. I just listened to my heart.

We should all listen to our hearts.

Mentally, I spent most of the day ruminating over names. Before I go any further, I want to say that while I appreciate and “get” the reference to George, I have already eliminated it as a name. Sorry, Terry: the CFO of our company named a kitten George from the same cartoon. So George has been taken.

Lokai is in the running. Below is a list of names I’ve considered, including the ones I eliminated:

Lucky

Speckles (we had a cat named Speckos, so that is OUT). Likewise: Buddie and Jasper and Butchy. (Butchy was a dog, not a cat, but you get the picture. Former pet names cannot be used twice.) (I don’t know WHY. I just made up that rule, OK?)

Harpo

Bilbo or Frodo (but Gimli is out)

Charlie (but I probably shouldn’t because my mother-in-law’s cat was named Charlie and he just died a couple months ago. Scratch that: former pet name in my immediate sphere.)

I ran through place names, but there aren’t any good place names that represent places I like to be (or places I have been) that are also good dog names: Alvord? Ely? Reno? Boise? Baker? Hokkaido? No, no, no.

How about other animal names, like “Bear”? Well, I knew a Bear, but he was a scaredy-cat Chow-chow. And I don’t want a name that gives the dog permission to be ferocious. Elk? Coyote? Moose?

I may consider Moose.

A color is out and so is a candy bar. Hersheys, Blue, Snickers, Uno, Red… Did you know that all of the Irish Setters in Jim Kjelgaard’s Big Red youth series were named Red something? How original. (I read every one of those books at least three times. Along with “White Fang” and “Call of the Wild” (Buck) and all the Black Stallion, Golden Stallion and Flicka stories.) “Mutt” was the name of Farley Mowat’s “The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be” and that doesn’t fit, either. Scratch story book dog names (and horse names).

Stretch.

I tried actors, musicians, bands that I like. Somehow the dog is not a Led Zeppelin, George Strait, Jim Pipkin or Jackson Browne. Well, Jackson is nice, but I don’t want a dog with a name that resembles my own. My mother had a dog named Mr. Tack, affectionately known as “Tacky”. She would get mad and yell at all of us: “Terry! Jackie! Deni! Tacky!” Tacky was considered one of us kids. It was really awful when she forgot she was speaking to me and said, “Tacky, take out the garbage. Or Jackie. Whatever your name is.”

Tacky was a Schnauzer.

I think I have exhausted my favorite novels, actors, car models, animals, colors, shapes (Stripe is high on my list after the cartoon dog in the comic strip Tiger).

In other news, finding the dog was just a step. It is forcing Don’s hand to build the dog kennel we purchased over a year ago and still have not put up. We do have a fenced yard, but it is not secure (a dog could crawl under or possible jump over one section). I need a temporary dog run for the dog, so I purchased one tonight.

That was fun. I found one that I likes at one site for $64. Same one at another site for $62. The first one offered a wire mesh top (very wise idea) for $49. The other site offered the same top for $24. Hmmmm. I work in a mathematical field… So I went through the steps to order the cheaper one and all was good until I got to S&H page. EEEP: cheap site wanted $65 S&H for STANDARD shipping. I ordered through the pricier site & got 3-day shipping for $10 more than the cheap site & standard shipping. Does that make your head hurt?

I still won’t have a portable dog run until Friday & the dog comes home as soon as Wednesday… YAY. Any ideas???? I can’t take time off…

Now that I have bored you with my dog, I am going to say good night. And expect to hear more about the dog. I think I’m going to be overwhelmed…

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