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  Chrysoula 12:47 pm on August 14, 2006 | 1 Permalink | Reply
  Tags: Pets

  I’ve been reading about Labradors, because I think Dante has the temperment of one. His white streak makes identifying what else might be mixed in hard, and heck, he might even be what people say he is: flatcoat/golden retriever cross. But behavior-wise… very Lab-like.

  It’s always been weird matching up dogs to breeds by reading about temperment as well as physical traits–I’d been hoping Dante was actually another flatcoat just so I could see a different personality from the same breed, with presumably the same temperment-traits. This is because I kind of wonder if all dogs of the same breed have the same personality with only different quirks. I’m sure many people would argue.. so I was curious.

  But anyhow, reading about Labradors, I took a moment to think about why I have two dogs– I’ve repeatedly wondered the last week if I was CRAZY, if the reasons I’d previously offered were actually good enough to justify the Total Chaos Dante has brought into our lives. I’ve always wanted two dogs: to play with each other in the ways humans can’t without getting hurt, and so that I’d always have a dog around and, well, you know: twice the fun. But right now Dante is work and annoying more than he’s fun right now. I expected that so I’m not traumatized by not instantly adoring my new puppy. But it’s clear that having two dogs that behave the way I want them to behave isn’t just a matter of doing what I do with Hannah a second time. When one dog barks, the other one joins in, even before seeing the reason for barking. They influence each other, left to their own devices. That’s quite a challenge to overcome.

  But then I realized that I’ve loved dogs so long that it predated my understanding of why I love dogs, and so everytime I thought of dogs, the deepest reason was concealed by the vastness of the joy I take in them.

  I’m not actually a ‘dog person’. I’m not attracted by the energy, the enthusiasm, the blind loyalty, the hair. What I am attracted to is the fact that they are not human but I can communicate with them. That’s the primary trait they have that attracts me: they love to communicate. And they’ve been bred to easily learn how non-canines communicate, so it’s easier to communicate with them than most other animals. That’s what I love. I’m a xenocommunications person.

  You’d think this would mean I’d love to learn foreign languages, but I don’t. I think probably other traits are at work balking me there. I bet I could pick up sign language, though.

   

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  Chrysoula 11:43 am on August 14, 2006 | 0 Permalink | Reply
  Tags: Pets

  This is a post about our new dog.

  I’m starting to get an idea of who he is, but I don’t yet know how much is simply ‘adolescent puppy’ and how much is him. I’m definitely starting to like him, even though he’s a brat. He bites walking feet, he gets underfoot, he darts out open doors, he’s shameless about stealing anything he thinks he should have, and he thinks everything Hannah has is better than what he has. And he barks at the cats, and strangers outside, and sometimes just for the hell of it. He stuck his nose in Kevin’s eye this morning. He can only hold his bladder for about five hours before he starts getting anxious, and at six hours he starts getting panicked and crying. It takes him a long time to understand when he’s doing something we disapprove of and desist. He’s pushy. He has a ridiculously short attention span. And he’s funny-looking, with sleepy slanty eyes, and a weirdly large nose.
  But he also likes to snuggle in ways that Hannah never has. He likes to be near me, just touching me. And his persistence is really charming and interesting, even when it’s annoying. I love the fact that his response to being thwarted is to find a different route (often physically) to what he wants. He walked under Hannah this morning because she was in his way. I put a treat behind my back and he jumped up on my butt to sniff my hand. I wouldn’t let him go around the couch to harass Hannah and Raymond, so he tried to go over. Each time he’s blocked he pauses, sits down, cocks his head, and adopts what I’ve come to think of as his ‘stubborn, analyzing’ expression. Then he tries something different. It’s really cool.

  I’m looking forward to when he knows all the basics that Hannah does: sit, come, getoutoftheway/move!, get down, stay, go. He’s already learning them, but his motivation is shaky.

  I think he sulks, but it’s not the same way Hannah does. Hannah actively mopes, creeping around, giving us reproachful looks, resisting attention. Dante’s sulk seems to be him simply looking away and utterly ignoring any attempt to make him re-engage the sulk-inducing situation. But change the context and he bounds happily after it. He’s still confused by the cats, partially because he’s a puppy, I think. My theory is that he’s fine with being dominated by them– he looks away quickly after a staredown– but that he’s used to other dominant dogs (and people) either responding to his attempts to play (the leap forward and back), or just batting him out of the way. The cats do neither; they just stare and stare and stare and hiss. And, if he gets too close, strike his nose. They won’t even run like squirrels or birds. The previously mentioned creativity doesn’t appear here, either; all encounters start with crouching and whining, followed by hoarse puppy barks (and bounding), and eventually end with him giving up and going away.

   
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  Chrysoula 10:43 am on August 8, 2006 | 2 Permalink | Reply
  Tags: Pets

  Dante is a canine adolescent boy.

  I had to meddle more yesterday.  I don’t want Hannah making a habit of growling (uselessly) at him whenever he gets close. Her unwillingness to bat him out of the way– her cat-like avoidance behaviors– has encouraged him to push his luck. Yesterday evening I watched as he tugged her favorite stuffed duck out of her mouth as she stood there, helplessly growling and unwilling to do more to defend herself. I of course descended like the wrath of the Almighty. Dante and I had a very serious talk about being a gentleman. Hannah and I had a heart-to-heart about standing up for herself, and all three of us humans have attempted to demonstrate to Hannah the ‘push the annoying puppy aside’ technique.

  Also, as a puppy, he likes to play with feet. My feet, Raymond’s feet. Hannah’s feet. This is definitely part of the social problem; Hannah’s incredibly sensitive about her feet and her learned response is to get away as quickly as possible.

  She seemed happier after the wrath of God episode, though. Just a little, but maybe it reassured her we do love her. It certainly made me realize that Dante’s a cute kid but it’s going to take a lot of work to make him into a nice dog.

   
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  Chrysoula 2:28 pm on August 7, 2006 | 1 Permalink | Reply
  Tags: Pets

  As of Saturday, Dante has officially joined the family. The cats are in hiding, though Demon did emerge this morning to try to re-assert his claim on his favorite places. Hannah is convinced he has horrible child cooties, and her neuroses have kicked into high gear. She admits he’s fun to play with in the backyard, and she tolerates him for shared barking-at-strangers duties but when those activities are done, she extricates herself with as little fur-to-fur contact as possible.

  On his side, he believes Hannah is the adult dog who is supposed to guide and teach him in this strange world. Except she acts more like a cat than a dog. Her toys are best! Her treats are best! He has the manners of a street urchin transplanted from an orphange so, for the first time, Hannah actually has something to be neurotic about. He DOES want to steal her stuffed animals and play with them! She’s buried her duck in several places this morning, and stood around with it in her mouth whining about how she couldn’t hide it well enough. I helped her hide it under the pillow stuffing in her bed, and she sat on the couch, finally able to relax a little, blissfully ignorant as Dante,not a dumb dog, rooted around in the stuffing and pulled out the duck.

  We’re trying to give Dante his own toys, mostly. It’s difficult, not just because he likes Hannah’s toys and because he’s used to any unclaimed toy or chew being fair game (orphanage mentality), but because of Hannah’s neuroses. I got a chewy non-edible bone for him since he’s supposed to go through a chewing phase around now. Lovely hard rubber thing. He was mildly interested in it at the time, but later Hannah stole it, hid it and guarded the spot where she hid it. She did that twice and now seems to have given up on it. But she really hates the idea of sharing anything– she complains when he gets too touchy, when he tries to get in on her treat action, when he gets too close when one of the humans is petting her. She won’t come see us if he’s too close to us. She skulks at least five feet away, but doesn’t want to let him get out of sight.

  But outdoors in the backyard and barking at strangers? All the rules change. Even if he is a stupid puppy who barks at his own reflection. Which is really cute– it’s also cute the way he’ll attempt to get involved in any doggish activity he picks up on– even dogs outside or on TV– even when it’s clear he has no idea why it’s going on (or where it is).

   
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  Chrysoula 12:00 pm on June 23, 2006 | 2 Permalink | Reply
  Tags: Pets

  [Hannah is guest blogging today]

  This is my pack:

  • Walking Boss: Walking Boss does all the fun stuff with me. He plays the footgame. He plays the leashgame. He likes to carry me around, which is only sort of fun, and stick his fingers in my mouth and sit on me. He also likes to go outside with me and he sniffs really foul stuff while I sniff interesting things. And he really knows how to roughhouse. But he also does all the really unfun stuff, like making my leash short when things get really interesting, and dumping me into the bathtub to put icky smelling stuff in my fur. And when he’s not being fun or unfun, he wants me out of his way.
  • Talking Boss: Talking Boss talks and talks and talks. She is always making noises with her mouth. So I sort of tune those out. If I can see her, I can tell when she’s saying something important, because she waves her hands around. And if I can get her to look at me, I can usually make her understand what I want, though it can be slow going sometimes. Like those treats today… but I’ll talk about that later. She’s the one in charge of food, and she’s the one I have to keep an eye on to figure out if anything important is happening. She’s also the one who pays the most attention to me when we’re not actually playing. She never minds if I’m underfoot. She even kind of encourages it. Which is good, ’cause I really like to help and follow her around! She always rescues me from the bad place, eventually.
  • Snuggly Guy: Snuggly Guy locks me out of his den when he’s not around, but even so, I think he’s great. He likes to pet me, and he likes to throw things for me to chase, and he never ever does anything unfun, except for sometimes getting irritated at me for not paying attention to his babbling. I can’t keep track of everybody’s language, folks! I’m doing good here to speak Talking Boss, understand Walking Boss, and get the gist of Cat. And even so, it’s not like you make more than a token effort to understand me. How many ways do I have to say, “Please give me the unfinished dinner you’ve left on your plate,” before you get it? Anyhow, Snuggly Guy is really really great, ’cause like Talking Boss, he likes it I escort him to the mailbox and, really, everywhere. Except his den in the middle of the night. Not sure what’s up with that.
  • The Dinner Kid: The Dinner Kid used to live in Snuggly Guy’s den, but then he left. He roams the world seeking out great things to eat and occasionally he returns for visits, with souvenirs. He smells like hamburgers, and, oddly, cats. He’s my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were puppies! And I want him to know I still love him even though he spends so long away that the others have practically forgotten him. He doesn’t mind if I crawl into his lap. Only food is better than squeezing onto the couch between Snuggly Guy and the Dinner Kid. And often they HAVE food! Mmmm.
  • Puppy Girl: She’s not actually a puppy, I just like to think of her as one, ’cause she has fluffy hair like a puppy. And she truly understands the role of fuzzy toys, though not that I need to take them all and put them someplace safe or else the Cats…. but that’s another story. I don’t see Puppy Girl as much as I’d like to. She gives the best hugs and I let her know how welcome she is. I don’t mind sharing the fuzzy toys with her. If she needs them. But does she?
  • Omega Cat: Omega Cat is this cute fuzzy lump of black fur. He squeaks when you step on him! And he eats really yummy food, but he never gets enough. I share my food with him, because you have to look out for those who can’t take care of themselves in your pack. He never races around to play with me, which makes me sad, because I know he does it with the other Cat. But he’s at least glad to see me most of the time, even if he’s too much of a scaredy cat to actually make his affections plain. I get the gist of Cat, as I said.
  • Alpha Cat: I share my food with Alpha Cat, too. He’d be cute if he didn’t have such an attitude problem. Sometimes I play with him but it never lasts very long. I know not to step on his toes but it’s important he realize that the toys Talking Boss gives me are mine and he can’t have them. I can share my bed and my dogfood, but people need to understand the toy thing, and that’s that.

  So, things have gotten confusing again. After a whole bunch of trips to the bad place for me and the Cats, Walking Boss started feeding the Cats a new kind of food, and Talking Boss started putting my bowl out of our reach for most of the day. Why?

  The Cats are really unhappy about it. They let everybody know when they’re displeased. I think maybe they’re starving, since they don’t get enough of their yummy food. I’m kind of hungry, too, ’cause I’m used to grazing a few times a day, and right now, the bowl only comes out in the evening.

  So this morning, I was pretty hungry and the Cats had kept me up all night yowling. So I went to find the Talking Boss, to let her know the situation. I think she understood me, but she said, “No, Hannah, those cat treats you stole the other day are not yours,” whatever that means. I understood the part about her not giving me those treats I found the other day. Stupid plastic bags.

  Okay, so, I went to lay in wait for Walking Boss, and Plan B. When he went outside to sniff his foul stuff, I went outside with him. Then I turned around and asked to go back inside! Because, see, sometimes when I go inside the house, I get a cookie. I’m not entirely sure what determines when I get a cookie and when I don’t, but it never hurts to try.

  Walking Boss mumbled something and let me in again, and I told Talking Boss I wanted a cookie. She didn’t quite understand the cookie part, but by now she knew I was hungry, so she filled up my bowl and put it down. This is why I like Talking Boss. However, Alpha Cat was lurking in a corner, and I felt kind of uncomfortable eating while he was there starving. So I told him he could have some. He didn’t understand, of course. As I said, attitude problem. Talking Boss was confused, too. When I explained to her that I was waiting for the Cat to eat, she put my bowl away again! I don’t understand! And I’m hungry!

  Does anybody know what’s going on? I’m going to run out of my secret stash at this rate.

   
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  Chrysoula 10:27 am on November 29, 2005 | 0 Permalink | Reply
  Tags: Pets

  There are lozenges for Kevin, and Wellbutrin.

  But what is there for the dog, who is very bewildered by this change in pattern? She keeps leaping to conclusions and staring at Kevin. Now she’s convinced that since he didn’t go outside to smoke, that means she’s getting to go for a walk this morning. Poor thing. I overslept far too much for that. Besides, she already got to go outside and chase a minivan down the street.

   
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  Chrysoula 2:42 pm on October 13, 2003 | 0 Permalink | Reply
  Tags: Pets

  Last night, I gave Hannah a Nylabone dog treat. These are made by Nylabone, but rather than being indestructible chew toys, they’re similarly-sized edible hard-as-a-rock substitutes for rawhide treats. She’s had them occasionally before.

  Last night, however, she didn’t seem interested in eating it. She carried it around in her mouth for a while, and I watched as she leaped on the couch and attempted to bury it under the cushions. When I interfered with this, she trotted down the hall to peer into the bedroom. Unfortunately for her plans, the bed had nothing but a sheet on it ’cause I’d just put the clean sheet on. No mounds of blankets and pillows– foiled!

  So she came back to the living room and lay there with it between her paws, eyeing the cat down the hall nervously. Soon after this, I went to bed. Hannah came and joined me at the bottom of Kevin’s side of the bed. At one point when I got up to get some water, I noticed she’d brought the bone with her.

  Later, I heard her growling very quietly, probably at a cat. Not allowed! But when I scolded her, she stopped.

  This morning, I was woken up at 6:30 by a curious sound: sort of a thump-squeal-skitter-skitter noise. It wasn’t loud enough to be something the cats had knocked over. I tried blearily to figure out what it had been… and realized it sounded an awful lot like Hannah yelping and racing across the kitchen floor and losing her footing and skidding. Hmmm.

  A few minutes later, there was unhappy whining. I thought about this for a while, and then got up to go see what was going on. Hannah was on the couch again, with both the original bone I’d given her and the other bone in its package (which I’d left somewhere only marginally out of reach), trying desperately to bury them under the couch cushions (but the couch was covered with a sheet so she had no gap to shove them into), whining all the while. She didn’t even stop when I approached her, so I got to see her nudging the bones into place, trying to get them out of view.

  When I reached down to pick them up, her tongue lolled out happily. It was clearly an act of mercy. She almost seemed relieved when I patted her and went and put both bones way way out of her reach. I could just imagine her saying, “Oh, thank God, Boss! I couldn’t protect them! You should have seen those wicked cats! They wanted my treasure that you gave me!”

  And I suspect she didn’t sleep all night, frantically trying to guard her treasure.

  I’m very glad we’ve taught her that all her belongings are actually ours (or any human’s) and we can take them back when we want, because she did occasionally growl at Kevin or Kirby way back when if they approached her while she was gnawing on a yummy treat. She also happily shares her water with the cats and I’ve never seen her be protective of her food bowl with the cats. But any item we explicitly give to her… oh, it’s a treasure. While she doesn’t stay up all night protecting her puppy-doll, she has been known to watch nearby cats fiercely while cuddling it, or grumble when they get too close, and I’ve noticed the cats taking a wider course than usual around her when she’s in one of those moods.

  But man, those bones. Her super-special treasures. Tricksy cats! Paranoid dog!