The Tough Cookie

Relationships are hard. Probably none are harder than the parent and child ones. In the early years, parents are your role models, they guide you and teach you. In later years those models are the ones you fight against or with as you gain your own identity and independence. I had many fights and stand offs with my mom through the years, especially after my father passed as I became the substitute for my dad.

Despite those fights there were truths and behaviors that my parents, my mom, taught me that became the foundation of who I am with some personal tweaks, of course.

When I was young, I was sick and spent weeks in the hospital undergoing tests and operations. My mom was with my through all the appointments and every night in the hospital while I got better. There were times during that ordeal that I was the one who had to comfort her – telling her I would be fine and that she didn’t have to cry.

When I was about to give birth to M, my daughter, I didn’t want her to come to the hospital with me because it was in the same hospital where my dad passed only seven months before. She was still so sad and frail. But she was there and despite my fear of her passing out, she held M in her arms in utter shock of how I made it through labor. I snapped at her and said “Mom, you did the same thing three times.” But she worried about me then and about us always and that’s what moms do. She worried up to the end. Some of the last things she said to me was to make sure that I put a hat on and to ensure that we all ate.

As most of you know, I am a big dog lover. This I did not get from my mom. Or, so I thought. When I was younger, I bugged my parents for a dog relentlessly.

My mom’s responses were – these are in translation and censored:

'No!'

'Enough with the dog already.'

'Get out of here with the dog'

'When you get older, you can get one.'

Sure enough, when I was older, I got one. My mom was furious with me.

But over the years who was the one asking me to bring the dog over, who informed me we were having chicken for dinner because that’s what the dog asked for, who gave up her seat on the couch so the dog would be comfortable. She had a big heart and it seemed at times that it was biggest for the dogs.

It was also a very big heart for children. She often babysat and was a nanny as we were growing up and we got older. She often would tell me stories of what the children did and said while she was with them. She always had a sparkle in her eyes as she retold those stories. Often laughing so hard, she would gasp for air. She was very sweet and played with the kids. She did this with M too –singing to her, playing peek-a-boo and getting ‘scared’ just to hear her laugh.

She had a great sense of humor. Her sense of sarcasm was impeccable. She often tried to laugh or find humor in the smallest things. Both of my parents had that talent and I try to emulate that even through hard times.

What I am most grateful for is that despite only have a fifth grade education, she and my dad worked tirelessly so we could all go to college. We could have something that they didn’t. She rallied for both my and my sister’s education because she came from a country and a time where girls didn’t get to go to high school much less college.  She knew that education over here, in America, was the first step to a better life. Although she was physically here in the US, her heart and her thoughts were always in Italy. There’s a line in a song that goes ‘you cannot return to where you never left’. Every time I hear it I think of my mom. I probably won’t listen to that song for a while now.

She was a strong woman, ‘manufactured in a different time and place’ as many neighbors said. Through her rounds of chemotherapy, she never once exhibited the nausea or vomiting that we were told to expect. The nurses and oncologist always remarked that ‘she was a fighter – a tough cookie’. And she was. She fought hard in life, with me, with us and now she’ll go back to fighting with my dad. Dad, I hope you tuck your shirt in and that you have smoked your share of cigarettes while you had your break. Mom, say hi to my fuzzies and thank you for everything. 

Around the Block

A few months ago my daughter's  nursery class was learning about neighborhoods and modes of transportation. There were daily queries of which transportation option I took to get to work and what was my favorite way to get places. In addition, I was asked by a little interrogator if I went to the grocery store or the post office on my way to work.

In order to further cement the lesson, her class was planning a field trip. I decided to sign up to be a chaperone because:
1) It was something I could squeeze into an hour of my morning schedule without attending a full-day event.
2) I thought it would be fun. (Honestly, this was the biggest factor in my participation!)

After dropping the kids off at school and making sure they had all the bathroom department business completed, the other parents, who were also chaperoning, gathered at the class door to collect their field trip pair. Each parent had their own child and then another little munchkin. My daughter was exhilarated that I was involved in this activity. She grabbed onto my hand and decided to swing from it while her friend pulled my other hand and arm down the stairs. (If only they had pulled my legs a bit so I would grow a few inches.)

We made our way outside and the teacher instructed the children to point to and call out the modes of transportation they had learned. Immediately twenty 3-year-olds yelled out, "Taxi!", "Bus!", "Bicycle!" The boisterous nature of toddlers was magnified by 100 times due to this close proximity to them. I could not contain my laughter because it was hysterical to hear them jubilantly calling out everything on wheels.

We turned away from the main boulevard, around a corner and up a quiet residential street. The noise became a bit more manageable. We decided to examine the budding flowers blossoming near all the trees. This fascinated quite a number of the children particularly because they didn't know the names of the flowers (daffodils, lilacs, impatiens, etc.). We then looked in on a couple of the businesses, waved to the owners and patrons, and explained what the people inside those offices and shops did. One particular child, who incidentally is always late to school, pointed out where she lived. It was eye-opening to everyone and horrifying to the child's mother that she was being ratted out.

The best part of the whole field trip was my daughter. Not only because she's my cutie and I got to share this moment with her, but also because she's shamelessly in love with dogs. As we walked around the block, she must have stopped to put her hand out to every dog. She wanted them all to sniff her so she could pet them. She did this unabashedly. She didn't care that her friend was scared out of her mind by every dog. My daughter also did not notice that I had to switch pairs so that her partner would not have a panic attack. She just thought all the dogs were 'cute' or 'fuzzy' and she wanted to pet them.

When we finally returned to the school entrance, the parents and teacher attempted to take a group picture. This was quite a challenge. I alone had 25 pictures of the children and in each one, at least one of the children was either hiding, not smiling, crying or running away from the group. It made me appreciate the work that the teachers do every day. There are moments where I really can not handle one child and yet, these teachers work with at most 20 different personalities on a daily basis. And they do it effortlessly and often, with no complaints. 

Although the trip lasted no more than a half hour, I know I will not forget it because:
1) My ears haven't yet recovered from all the screaming
2) It's a memory of a day at school with my daughter that I so frequently get to experience.
 

Hard Decisions

Life is a series of choices. Someone, although I can't recall who, said that you are defined by who you are and the choices you make. Of course making those choices comes down to weighing different options and making that ultimate decision.

In the last few months I have had to come to terms with the old age of my first baby, Bonnette. I have had her since she was 8 weeks old. How I got her and why are not even relevant to the story but it helps to clarify that our teamwork together to get through a relationship is what makes our bond even stronger. She is 16 years and 4 months old today. Luckily I have had friendships that have lasted as long as (and even longer than) my relationship with her. I am blessed to know true enduring friendship (both human and canine). It is a considerable amount of time to love something/someone. Let's be real here, most marriages don't last that long. And oddly, Bonnette has been in my life longer than my husband and he and I have been together for a long time. This detail is really to put this all into perspective.

People don't understand why some people love their pets as much as they do. That's not me - and not just because I'm a pet owner.  I have never been one to dress Bonnette up and prance her around the neighborhood. I have simply enjoyed her company, her love, her spunkiness - what makes her Bonnette -  over all these years. Am not entirely sure why I have accepted so many of her quirks and idiosyncrasies when in a person I wouldn't tolerate half of it. There is an innate relationship between human and dog that they accept you for you and you reciprocate without it even being spoken or barked. I suppose that is where the bond is formed.

Maybe the bond is formed in the exuberance of their mood when they see you first thing in the morning and when you come home after a long day at work. They don't care how your day went because the most important part of their day is that you are finally home. They know when you are sick and how to nurse you to good health. They seek you out and want to cuddle even if you don't know that's what you need. They share their small span of time with you in the sole hopes that you will drop some table scraps in their direction.

In these last few days I have had to grapple with the injustice of their short life spans. Why can't she be here with me for as long as I am here on this earth? Why has all the joy I've experienced with her come to so much pain and sadness? So much of it is due to not having spent more time with her up to this point due to work, school and other committments. So much more of it is due to knowing I have very little time left with her. It is these moments of eventual loss when our priorities become crystal clear but I don't know why they aren't more evident beforehand.

With all this comes the overwhelming guilt that I will ultimately have to decide when she goes onto puppy heaven. Although I might not do the actual work, it is my command that will be followed. This is the one command that I truly hope you, Bonnette, will not obey (and you have been quite defiant, by the way and I still love you sometimes even more because of it) but I doubt it. I love you so much wiggle pickle and don't want to see you suffer anymore. I wish I could bring you the same comfort that you have brought to me all these years. But I wish I could bring it to you in life and not in death.

Runaway Puppy

Most of the weekends during the summer are spent at my parent's home on Long Island. It is close to the beach and close to the outlets (a particularly great point for me). One of my dogs loves it because there is plenty of room to run around and explore and to also chase birds. The other, older dog doesn't care either way if we go or not. She has a bed and she spends most of the time sleeping at her age anyway. On occasion, she does take a walk around and likes to see what's going on and what we are doing.

A few weekends ago, I went out with my sister and daughter to go grocery shopping. We ran some other errands as well. When we came back to the house we found my husband pacing and searching around the front of the house. He looked very upset. I asked him what happened and he said that B (the little, old dog) had gone missing. Incredulous to the news that was reported to me, I asked "what do you mean?" He said that he was working on putting in the air conditioner and when he went to check on her, she was not in her normal spot. He told me that he looked all over the house and around the grounds but he wasn't able to find her.

I couldn't start my search because I had to give my daughter something to eat and let her have her nap. After she fell asleep, I had my sister keep watch of the premises while I went out to investigate. My husband went around the neighborhood with the car. As I looked around and couldn't find her, I began to worry. My dog is 15 years young and despite being peppy and small, she does not see or hear very well. Being the pessimist that I am, the worst possible scenarios popped  into my head. I kept thinking I would find her crushed by a car or tossed on the side of a road after being hit.

When I couldn't find her, I went back home, tears streaming down my face. I began to prepare a flyer to post around the neighborhood and to give to neighbors. Luckily, my super calm and quick thinking sister had called the animal shelters and veterinarians in the area. She was informed that a dog matching my pooch's description was picked up. My husband had gone to get her but he had advised my sister not to tell me anything in case it was not B. My sister told me regardless because she knew how distraught I was.

But I was hopeful! Although of course, I still cried. Thinking of my life without my puppy was unimaginable. When he finally arrived at the shelter, he called to tell us "She's here and she's fine." I was super happy and the tears that I shed in sadness had turned to ones of joy.

When she arrived home, she walked to her bed as if nothing had happened. She looked at us staring at her as if we had lost our minds. My husband reported that when they asked for her description he gave it to them saying "She's white with black spots, has a couple of growths on her belly and tons of attitude!" The clerk said 'oh yeah, she's here alright!" 

Luckily everything turned out well -- the crisis was averted. I am seriously considering getting lojack for her though. That's why they have all these chips and devices you can implant in your pets now-a-days for situations like mine, where you never think it will never happen, until it does.

Cookie Thief

Despite my attempts to get my daughter to eat healthy snacks, she loves cookies. (And yes, I know the apple does NOT fall far from the tree!) Part of the reason she developed a love of cookies is thanks to my mom (and I did let her have graham crackers c.f. blog entry "Teddy Grahams"). My mom’s belief was that certain biscuits from Italy had vitamins in them and that the baby could use more vitamins. Of course, upon looking at the nutritional information of said cookies, there were, in fact, as I suspected, very few vitamins in them. 

However as my daughter’s food pickiness came into being, it became a debate of whether to give her something to eat (the vitamin cookie) or nothing at all. I opted for a cookie every now and then to give her an occasional treat. But like most things, when the cat (momma) is away, the mice (grandma) will (give the child cookie) play.  I discovered many cookies were being eaten and nibbled on when I was at work. 

Of course these food issues with my daughter are a power play that she’s getting away with on her grandma. I try my best to give her fruits and veggies and other things we eat, only to have her toss it to the dogs. My pooches are thrilled by this free for all, believe me. 

On occasion before I’ve even placed food on my daughter’s plate, she’s already made eye contact with the dogs and they sit under her high chair. The food goes from my hand in a direct path to the dog’s mouths. It’s great! Really! 

Lately what I’ve noticed is that my daughter takes her sweet time eating her cookies. This is pure temptation for my bigger dog, who is always hanging around my munchkin. M will walk around the apartment with a hand on the wall or her playpen and the other hand tightly grasping a cookie. When she takes too long, the big dog follows her around. Her face fixed on the cookie in hopes that the cookie will either drop on the floor. Or with the desire that my daughter will just give her the cookies after her hands get all steamed up from the dog’s hot breath on her fist. 

Once or twice, I’ve been there to witness the dog gently put her mouth around the treat in my daughter’s hand, my daughter giggles from the drool and opens her hand. The pooch has serenely digested the sweet snack satisfyingly and all is right again in the puppy universe. Score one for the canine. 

Last weekend my daughter walked back and forth in the apartment for about 15 minutes. She probably completed a mile of pitter-pattering with a gingerbread cookie in her hand. Throughout this little marathon, the dog walked on her side with her snout right above my daughter’s fist. A couple of times, my daughter shoved the dog’s face away from the cookie with her cookie-covered hand. This only made the dog salivate more. Over time and repetition of this same scene, the cookie became soggy and my daughter opened her hand to rub the drool off of her hands. The cookie fell to the floor. And score two for the canine!

Let’s look at the scoreboard:

M = 0;  pooch = 2!

I am pretty sure this game of cookie ball will continue for quite some time. At least until my daughter learns to keep her food to herself. I suppose I should be happy that she’s learning to share but it’s not quite how I imagined sharing to be taught to my daughter. It’s certainly not sharing by intimidation but by salivation.

Teddy Grahams

My daughter has taken very positively to Teddy Grahams. Perhaps you’ve seen them? They are graham crackers in the shape of little teddy bears. I wanted to give her a little something to keep her occupied when we out for walks or in the car without always resorting to Cheerios. Now, she wouldn’t mind eating Cheerios all the time but I still decided something else might break up the monotony. 

So I gave her one and she liked it. She put it in her mouth, made a ‘yum’ noise and proceeded to get it a bit soggy before taking it out of her mouth and consuming it bit by bit. I didn’t question her process; it seemed to be working well for her. 

I have since given her one or two here and there and she’s always happy to get them because they are tasty. I admit it because I like them too. I found that she and I are not the only ones that enjoy these flavorful little morsels. Two others are quite fond of them as well – the dogs! 

I put a couple of the crackers in my pocket on the way for our ride back home one day. The bigger dog kept her nose at my pocket. And I kept wondering if I hadn’t put one of her treats in my pocket. After a few moments, she began to lick my pocket. I decided to give her one to see if she would take it or if some other scent was calling her attention. Nope! It was the teddy graham. She ate it immediately. Then the other dog came out of her little space to stare me down for one. (They work as a team those two despite their pretending to not get along.) So I had to give a treat to each of my three girls. What was this all coming to?

A few days ago, my daughter grabbed the box of teddy grahams off the coffee table while I turned to grab a diaper out of my bag. She fumbled her way around in the box and the bigger dog came out of nowhere to stare at her sister’s workings. Next thing I knew, there was a slight plat, plat, plat sound against the tiles (the drool of the dog splashing onto the floor) and F waiting for M to drop a cracker by mistake. The minute it happened, the dog scooped in to pick it up and my daughter chuckled at her playmate. 

Kids and dogs really can be funny about what they like and can be quite determined when it’s something they enjoy. I just never thought it would involve little crackers that look like Winnie the Pooh.

Cooling Off

Yet another heat wave…there is only so much you can do to make it bearable. I often drink a lot of iced drinks and eat ice cream. Air conditioning is helpful until you are frozen because the thermostat is set to arctic temperatures. Staying in the shade is also an option.


During the heat wave a few weeks ago, the kiddie pool was a godsend. My daughter and I took a dip in that to try to put a stop to the sweat. It did help even if only for that period of time while we were soaking in it.

One of my dogs disappeared into the air conditioned bedroom. She occasionally moved from in front of the appliance to the cold bathroom tiles. The other dog watched as we sat in the kiddie pool. She sniffed the water and sat nearby in the shade.

When we got up from the 'wet wonder', she followed. When she thought we weren’t looking, I caught her drinking from the plastic receptacle. She then got up and plopped herself right into the wading pool. She had such a contented smile on her face. I went over to pet her and praised her for keeping herself cool in the horrid heat. It was so unbearable even the pooches needed to get relief and looked for the best solutions possible.

Cuddles

I am very lucky for a number of reasons. I have always enjoyed cuddling since I can remember. I had a number of stuffed animals growing up and into my adulthood that I used for sleep security. When I got my first dog, even the first night she spent with me, we snuggled. She has since been a constant companion – sitting with me on the couch when I read, providing a paw when I was not feeling well, squishing beside me when I am having trouble sleeping.

My second dog was not a cuddling companion for a while. She was abused before we rescued her so she was quite skittish when trying to pet her. After a few months though, she too gained an extreme cuddliness quotient. She often woke and wakes me up to get a good cuddle in for the long day ahead. She loves getting petted and is often on my other side (opposite dog #1) when reading. 

It seems that I now have another addition to the cuddlefest – my daughter. The last few weekends, when she’s woken up earlier than I’d like, after having her bottle, she sneaks into the crook of my neck and begins to talk. She then gives me a hug. It was really the sweetest thing I could think of - until the sweetest thing in the whole world happened this weekend. 

Again she woke up earlier than necessary. She had grogginess all over her face. I fed her a bottle and then we had breakfast. I returned to the bedroom to change her and in doing so she snuck away from me on the bed. I ended up crawling over to get her. She rubbed her eyes and cuddled up to me. She tried to grab my eyelashes and then she giggled. From there, she proceeded to fall asleep on my arm with her face against my chest. 

I didn’t want to move her because I was afraid of waking her up. Instead I watched her fall deeper into sleep. I then fell asleep too. I woke up about 30 minutes later to the sound of the telephone ringing but she at least continued to sleep. She moved positions but still remained on my hand. My arm did go numb a couple of times but I tried to squeeze my hand to bring circulation back. 

After that my hip began to hurt from the position I was in. I couldn’t really move without waking her so I didn’t. I took a look around to see what time it was and who do I see around me but both my dogs napping around us as well. I guess they climbed onto the bed when I was asleep. 

When my daughter finally woke up, she looked right into my face and giggled again. She gave a big stretch releasing my arm and then proceeded to start crawling around as if the nap didn’t happen at all. It was probably the best hour and a half or so I’ve ever napped in my life. I was surrounded by my favorite warm cuddly parade. Everyone should be blessed with cuddle-loving critters and humans in their lives.

Daily Puppy

I’ve been visiting the website ‘The Daily Puppy’ for years. I first heard about it from a co-worker who is equally smitten with dogs as I am. Every day we would check the site and then meet at each other’s cubicle and discuss how cute the dog of the day was.

Even though I no longer work with this person, I have kept up the semi-daily viewing of the website. I mostly discuss the cuteness, squishiness or adorableness of the quotidian canine with my sister or a few of my friends. What I have found in doing this is that it brings a smile to my face.

When work gets boring, annoying or stressful, I like to check into this site to put a smile on my face. (I also do this with pictures of my daughter now.) Now as scientific studies have proven, seeing or being around dogs help bring blood pressure down. I can say that I sincerely have noticed this over the years. I am always calmer (even if momentarily) after I look at the puppies on the site, or if I see pictures of my own pooches.

I think that if you like dogs (or even cats because there is a daily kitty site), it would do the whole world a brief bit of good to check out the website when you aren’t feeling at your best. Enjoy!!

The Pirate

Recently my older, but smaller, dog had to have a growth on her paw removed. The vet thought it might be cancerous because it was growing at an alarming rate. As usual I was distraught by the idea of having to put my dog under anesthesia because with an older dog it is a very risky thing to do. Luckily she came out of the surgery as if nothing really happened.


The only indication that she had anything wrong with her was that she was dressed in a bootie on her one paw. This was mostly to keep her paw dry but also to keep her from licking her wound. Instead of putting the Elizabethan collar around her head (which we call the lampshade), we thought the bootie would serve the same purpose with less adjustments on her part. And we were right in that thinking because she walked the whole way home from the vet’s office without any complaint.

When she got home though, she moaned a bit. I think the walk home might have been too aggressive. Hearing her in pain made my heart sink. After giving her pain medication though, she eased off into a deep, recovering sleep.

The day after her surgery, she woke up bright and fluffy and pounced off of her bed as though nothing had happened the previous day. As she walked on the hardwood floor, there was a distinctive ‘tick, tick, tick’ whenever her bootie hit the floor. She had a slight limp due to the difference in spacing between her paw and the bootie. As she went to get her water and had her breakfast, the ticking noise accompanied her. My husband said that she sounded like a peg-legged pirate. Hence he decided to call her ‘the pirate’. Once he called her that to her face, she stared at him as if she were, in fact, the most menacing of pirates.

As the week progressed, we took her bootie off but that didn’t stop my husband from calling her ‘peg-leg’ or ‘pirate’. We thought her scar could use some airing out so we had to put the lampshade on her head to keep her from attacking her paw. Lampshades have a weird way of maximizing dogs’ eyes. Most dogs’ eyes take up their whole sockets (which is what makes them so cute and adorable). However, when a pooch has to wear a collar, it’s as though their eyes take up their whole head. It makes you pity them more. Luckily she didn’t mind having her little halo; she deals with it as best as she can. (Whereas my other dog purposely walks into walls in order to try to get the lampshade off her head.)

A week after the surgery, she had her stitches removed. The biopsy results came back and happily the growth was not cancerous. She just had a proliferation of collagen and connective tissues. As of today, her paw has healed over and you couldn’t tell she had a growth there. Regardless of this incident, she will always be our little pirate. Even if she’s no longer limping, she still stares at us with her menacing mug as if she wants us to walk the plank.

The Kiddie Pool

I think this has been one of the worst summers on record. It may not necessarily have been the hottest summer but it has been very humid here in New York. It has made me a tad bit miserable. Being pregnant doesn’t make it any easier either. I find myself walking a few blocks and being so tired that I am out of commission the rest of the day. It might seem like a dream to some. But to me, it makes me feel useless. 

Usually I take comfort from the heat and humidity by going to Long Island and soaking in the pool. However, this year we decided not to fill it up for various reasons. Those reasons fail me now. It was not a good decision. However we made up for it by buying an inflatable kiddie pool. It is very small but I can put a chair in and sit submerged up to my tummy. I’ve used it a number of times already to just cool off.  I have enjoyed reading many books while sitting in the kiddie pool. It’s almost as good as the regular pool except that I can’t go for a swim.

What I also like about this kiddie pool is that it’s in the shade. It sits opposite one of my dogs’ secret hideaway. So while I sit in the pool, I can see her digging or napping or watching the birds from beneath her shrub. It is quite cute. Occasionally when I am not looking, she exits her secret lair and comes to visit me.  I always ask her where she’s come from because she’s surprised me. She doesn’t answer, of course, because it’s a secret. 

On one occasion I decided to talk to the baby from the pool. I read a little bit to her and then I told her about her two canine sisters. I explained what they looked like and what they usually do. Anyone looking at me from the outside would have thought I was insane but it seemed like just as good a time as any to let her in on the happenings and personalities of her future life. 

If it weren’t for this little pool, I am pretty sure I would have gone stir crazy by now. It has been a particularly grueling summer so I am happy to find a little relief in a PVC pond.

The Chase

My dogs bring me lots of happiness and cuddles. They cheer me up when they sense I am sad and like to be silly to make me laugh. They are very sweet. Occasionally though they can be troublemakers though.

This difficulty comes in giving them medicine. One of my dogs is fine with taking her pills to get better but the other one always seems 3 steps ahead of me. I used to be able to hide her medication in peanut butter until she caught on that the peanut butter was not crunchy style and whatever was in there didn’t taste too good. Hiding the pill in her food didn’t work because I’d ultimately find the remains of pills at the bottom of her dish.

Lately I’ve been sticking the medicine in “Laughing Cow” cheeses. This works on most days but sometimes it becomes a struggle. She decides she won’t take the cheese and I find myself chasing her around the apartment. From the kitchen through the living room and then to the bedroom and back through the living room and kitchen again. I try to lower myself to her level so that she will see that I am trying to appease her. She sniffs the cheese, turns her face and off she runs. This goes on for quite some time. My husband usually has to intervene and stick the cheese in her mouth. She then takes it but I don’t like this method because then she associates the cheese with something not pleasurable which makes the cycle continue again and again. I am of the non-forcing train of thought. 

This morning after a little morning run around the apartment, I decided to hide the pill in nutella. It was bad of me but really how can anyone or any animal resist nutella? It worked wonders. I probably won’t use this method every day but heck I know it works. I’ll just add it to my arsenal of pill feeding methods.

The Commute

Almost every morning people get up and prepare the usual routine to get to their jobs. One aspect of this routine is the daily commute. Normally I don't mind this ritual because I spend most of my time catching up on my reading.

Lately it's been difficult for me to make the commute because I'm in pain and/or because I have appointments to get to during the day. It makes no sense for me to drag myself downtown to go to work then to haul to the doctor in midtown and then have to go back downtown to finish out my day. Luckily my boss doesn't mind me working from home on these occasions.

But today's commute was a very pleasant one. My husband decided to drive me to work. And my fellow commuters were my two dogs! Who am I kidding? It was the best commute ever.

The smaller dog sat on my lap for most of the trip and decided she didn't like a lot of what she was seeing on her commute. She didn't like the pigeon walking in the street and she certainly let him know by barking at him. She thought the doorman at one building was a little suspicious so she pointed it out by yapping. She notified us that she thought one statue was not appropriately placed. A little while after pointing these items out, we stepped off my lap to get some water in a bowl that is set behind the front seats. She lapped at the water happily.

In the meantime, my bigger dog saw that my lap was free and decided it was a perfect time to sit next to me. She gave me her paw and cuddled into my side. It was very relaxing. I noticed however that most of her fur was ending up on my suit jacket. Oh well I thought.

The little dog finished up her water and wondered how she was going to get back on my lap. She kept trying to jump past her sister but she couldn't find a space. A few minutes later, I felt her digging at my feet. She had crawled under the seat to get to me. She jumped up on my lap and I had two very pushy and adorable co-commuters trying to angle into my space. If a human had tried to take up all this room on the subway, I would have been highly perturbed and vocal about it. But when you have very big eyes and fur, I'll let you do just about anything!

I think more of my commutes should be this way. I certainly wouldn't mind all the hassle of the morning routine. Or maybe more people on the subway should let me rub their ears when they are pushing into my seat.

Fly Swatter

Foxy is a very obedient dog except for two conditions. One reason for her disobedience is those blimey squirrels (mentioned in a couple of earlier entries) and the other is with flies. If she sees one flying around, she loses track of whatever she is doing and decides that she must catch them and eat them. I don’t know if she seems them as smaller versions of squirrels. Regardless, if she’s in the middle of following a command and one of our fair flying friends floats by, I know for sure she’s not paying attention to a word I’m saying.

Just like squirrels, Foxy has yet to catch a fly. I’ve seen her try to bite them as they fly by. She’s swatted at one with her tail while it was propped up on a wall. She’s also tried to smash it with her paw. Each time, she’s failed. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before she catches one. I expect that some day soon she’ll come up to me with either a squirrel between her teeth or she’ll pop a fly out of her mouth to show me her catch.

Until then, I’ll enjoy watching her try at play with her two nemeses. I wonder if she’ll stop trying to catch them if she ever does grab hold of one?

I wrote the 3 paragraphs above last summer. Things have changed since then. Foxy has in fact caught a fly in her mouth, only to spit it out a millisecond later. Having finally succeeded at capturing a fly, it did nothing to stop her from continuing to try to catch them. If one of those pests is anywhere near her, she will try any of her myriad methods to obtain them - tail splatter, paw squash, mid-air nibble. I don't think she will ever stop trying to catch them but it's fine with me. Her enthusiasm reminds me that deep inside she's still a puppy and enjoys playing.

The Noisy Shrub

On my latest trip to Long Island, I was startled when I heard a shrub with a cough. I kept looking around thinking that perhaps a neighbor was walking by and was having an asthma attack. But it was much closer to me than outside the fence. 

I began to investigate. Waiting for the noise to sound so I could quickly move to where the tone resonated. As I got closer to the noise, I saw the faint outline of a fuzzy snout. I realized that my dog Foxy was the one coughing under a shrub – her so called ‘hut’. 

I worried that perhaps she had caught a cold or something then I remembered that moments before I heard the sound, she was playing fetch. Foxy loves to play a good game of fetch with a stick from a tree. There is quite frankly nothing like a good game of ‘fetch’ or ‘stick’ for Foxy. (Aside from maybe trying to catch flies by eating them).  

She can play fetch for a while. Once she gets tired, she liked to lie down on her belly with her stick between her paws and rip it apart. This often caused pieces of the bitten up bark to get caught in her throat. Hence the hacking cough she exhibits that often sounds like a 90 year old who has smoked 3 packs of cigarettes a day.

It made me chuckle. I asked her if she was ok and then asked her to follow me to her water bowl. She lapped up a good cup of water and the doggie TB that I was about to attribute to her finally vanished. At least until her next session of stick.

Best in Show

Back in February I got tickets to The Westminster Dog show. I took the day off to go see what all the fuss was about. As a dog person, I felt I needed to see what happens at this insider event. 

I expected it to be in the actual arena of Madison Square Garden as I had seen on television so many years. But that event would be the following day. What I saw was the actual decisions for best of breed.

My sister and I arrived at 9 am to an area full of seats looking onto a small amphitheatre which was divided in two. One side held one set of dog breeds, while the other side had another. Luckily we got to see the terrier breeds which are some of my favorites. The handlers gathered in each of the judges mini-circles. Each dog was placed on a pedestal (because they were small) and inspected. This task disturbed me because sometimes the handlers put the dogs up on the stand by picking them up by their tails. The dogs seemed not bothered by this but I sat there feeling a visceral pain in my phantom tail. In addition the judges often ran their hands down the dogs’ private area and would squeeze. This made me twinge but the dogs continued on with their chests forward and unmoved. 

After each dog was checked, the judges asked the handlers to let the dogs walk around so they could see their stride. From there the officiate would line up the dogs in order of preference and have them do one more walk in a circle. At this point, the judge would point to the dog and call out a numeric value between 1 and 3. Number 1 became best in breed that would be moving onto the bigger breed category the next night.  

Overall it was fun and there were a number of famous people at the event. So it was good people and animal watching all around. If I were to go next year, I’d like to go to the bigger and televised event. Or I’d try to see more of the breeds that I like such as retrievers, terriers and shepherds.