On Guard

Baxter is our loveable, gentle giant. He lumbers around the yard and house, plopping his enormous 100-plus-pound body down whenever he feels inclined to so do. And like most gentle giants, he wouldn't hurt a soul.

But bad guys don't know that. And I rest secure knowning he's here. :o)

Baxter trots our yard's permieters. He sits watch (see photo above). And if anything poses even the remotest threat, his barrell-chested, resonating bark states, "I am here, and if you even think about messing with my master you'll have me to contend with."

Now "contend with" may mean face-washing kisses or paws-planted-on-the-shoulders hugs, but that's between you and me. I'll never tell.

I love my gentle giant. So what if he exceeds Lab breed standards for size (who would've known; his parents were tiny). Yes, for your purists out there, we had him neutered, but I wouldn't trade him for the world.

There's only one Baxter Boos, and I think I'll keep him.

'Til next time,
Joan

The Nudge. 

The Nudge

Since we have a Benedryl-induced hiatus from the complete craziness of the last ten days, I thought I'd take today to write about another endearing quality of Ridge's: his nudging nose.

Ridge loves attention (as do Elsie and Baxter). He enjoys a back rub with the best of them. He groans with pleasure during tummy rubs. And he loves to be stroked.

So far, that sounds like any Lab I've known.

Here's where Ridge is different: he won't let you pay attention to anything else when he wants you to pet him.

If I'm working at the computer in the family room, he'll deliberately "bump" the arm that controls the computer mouse (never the other arm; only the mouse-controlling arm). He'll nudge that elbow with his nose until I turn and scratch his head. Then he's happy.

If I'm sitting in the recliner holding the TV remote, he'll nudge the hand and arm holding the remote. If I don't respond, he'll put his head in my lap. When I finally pat him on the head, he'll sit quietly next to me. Then he's content.

If I'm eating at the table, he'll wiggle his head between my elbow and my torso to get a good look at what I'm eating (see photo of him doing the same to Don a few weeks ago). If I ignore him, his nudging will grow more insistent; if I take a second to scratch behind his ears, he'll go lie down, happy as can be.

If I'm reading the Sunday paper, holding the paper open with two hands, he'll bump the center of the paper with his nose making it impossible to read. If I fold up the newspaper, talk to Ridge, and pet him for a minute, he'll curl up at my feet. Then I can read the paper undisturbed.

If I'm reading a book, he'll nudge the binding of the book until I close the book and acknowledge his presence. Again, if I pat his head and reassure him, he'll lie quietly beside and let me read in peace.

I think he just wants to feel secure in our affection for him. And once he gets his attention "fix" he's good to go (for a few hours anyway). Nudging is how he asks for attention.

We call him The Nudge. And a gentle nudge he is.

'Til next time,
Joan

Ridge on Benedryl will actually sleep and eat and rest (for a minute) despite Elsie's pheromones! 

The Wonder Drug

The Doggie Doc called back. :o)

To help Ridge stay sane through Elsie's current heat cycle, the vet suggested giving him 50-75mg of Benedryl two time daily. If that doesn't work, we can call back and he'll prescribe a mild sedative.

We're into the second day of our Benedryl trial, and I must say, it's a wonder drug.

Ridge has eaten twice! (He hadn't eaten in five days and was losing weight.)
He no longer howls. :o) :o) :o) :o) :o) :o) :o)
He sleeps!

Wow! I never realized a tiny pink pill (well, three actually) could make such a difference. I've been giving Ridge 75 mg morning and evening, and it's helping.

Oh, he's still rammy. And he still wants to be with Elsie. And he still paces in his crate when Elsie is out. And he's still amorous with Baxter (who still resorts to the picnic table).

But he's sane rammy (is there such a thing?). And I don't need earplugs.

Phew. We might get through this afterall.

Just think, Hon (dear hubby Don who is in Ireland), if you're reading this, all the excitement will be over by the time you jump back over the pond. Imagine what you've been missing! (Okay...you can stop celebrating now).

Til next time,
Joan (who is breathing one huge sigh of relief)

Baxter, The Smart One :o) 

One Smart Boy

Baxter's got it all figured out.

You see, he's tired of Ridge humping him. For Ridge, in lieu of in-heat-and-prime-for-mating Elsie, anything on four legs will do, including the Baxter Boos.

So when I let them outside together (with Elsie crated inside), Ridge chases Baxter all over the backyard until both of them are ready to drop. And when Baxter finally quits and lies down , Ridge jumps all over him (his head, his back, his rump...doesn't matter...wherever Ridge can get a hold of is fine with him). Then the riding begins.

Poor Boos. He's had enough.

So...get this...(are you ready for Baxter's supreme display of intelligence?)...Baxter figured out that if he climbs up on top of the picnic table Ridge can't get to him there.

LOL. Boos is desperate. So now he plays King of the Mountain.

The last time I let them out together I found Baxter standing squarely in the center of the picnic tabletop with Ridge running circles around it.

Smart boy. I think I'll let him keep his refuge for now. He's going to need it at least another week.

Now if only I could find a mountain (or picnic table) for me.

'Til next time,
Joan
(who, btw, was desperate enough to call the vet today; the docs are calling back about possibly giving Ridge a mild tranquilizer--I kid you not--this dog is in major frustration mode and letting us all know about it 24/7. I'll keep you posted.)

The Barking Wonder. Normally quiet during the day, Ridge barks incessantly now that Elsie is in heat and he can't have her. ;o) Ear plugs AND stereo noise-cancelling headphones help. And Ridge is losing his voice. ;o) One more week...

Ridge is Pithing My Brain

Only eight days to go (give or take).

Help. (Note white flag of surrender waving in my hand.)

The poor boy needs tranquilizers.

His high pitched barking makes me feel bad for all those frogs I pithed in 10th grade biology class. I suspect needles scrambling the brains in their heads felt a bit like Ridge's high frequency pitch in mine.

Baxter Boos and Elsie Girl are oblivious; it's status quo for them. Baxter still lumbers around the house like the gentle giant he is; Elsie still wants to snuggle and lean against me and get her touch fix like usual.

She doesn't, however, want to go back into the crate. But in she must go if I'm to let Ridge out and get a break from this barking (needling?).

We're back in the rotation again.

'Til next time (if I survive),
Joan

"I miss Elsie. This cat can't take her place." 

Elsie (yellow) and Baxter (black) love being together--a condition that's on hold now until Elsie is out of heat. The Boos misses his buddy. 

Baxter Misses His Bud

The Baxter Boos is the only sane one in the house these days. Mr. Neutered is oblivious to Elsie's condition and completely puzzled by Ridge's sudden interest in humping everything in sight.

He's not quite sure what all the commotion is about. He does, however, miss Elsie.

Baxter and Elsie hang out together almost all the time. Indoors or out, they're buds: They play; they romp; they chase each other; they tease; they nestle down together; they use each other as pillows; they sometimes share a crate; they play tug-o-war; they race; they chew on different ends of the same bone; they get into mischief together.

They're pals. And now that Elsie has to be crated more often, Baxter seems lost.

I can't just let Elsie romp with Baxter all day outside because of the possibility of stray dogs finding her in heat. So she needs to stay indoors. But I can't just let her roam indoors because Ridge goes wild if she does. So (with the exception of exercise times) she and Ridge stay crated, and will, until this heat thing passes. I hate to do it, but it's for her good and Ridge's sanity.

Boos (our affectionate nickname for Baxter) hangs out by himself now. Well, he hangs out with me but it's not the same. He seems to miss the Elsie Squirt.

I don't blame him. They've been buds since she arrived as an eight-week-old.

Oh well, this too shall pass. Only another eight or ten days to go. :o) I just wish I could explain it to Baxter.

'Til next time,
Joan

Daddy Don (shown here scratching the Snickers while Baxter looks on) is missing all the excitement this week. It's a good week to be in Ireland. Trust me. :o) 

It's a Circus

I'm ready for a vacation. And I've only been home a day. :o)

If you're a regular reader you know that Elsie is in heat. She's in that prime conception time between day 11 and day 18 of her heat cycle (I think today is day 12), so she's really ready to go.

Ridge knows it, too. Poor boy.

And if I never hear a howl again, I'll be a happy camper.

Oh, lest I forget to tell you, dear hubby left yesterday for Ireland. He'll be gone for Elsie's entire prime time. Lucky fella; he's missing all this excitement! He doesn't know how blessed he is. :o)

So I'm here holding down the fort trying to work in the office (yes I do that, too), care for the human kids, maintain the house, and referree our female in heat with our experienced sire (absolutely no contact).

Yee haw. We're in the circus now.

We're managing. As long as I crate both Elsie and Ridge at the same time in the same room (different crates of course), Ridge manages to stay calm. But if I let Elsie out...look out and plug your ears. His howling is almost painful. He's going to be hoarse by the end of the next eight days.

And very hungry. He didn't eat again today (I even tried bacon fat on his food--something we almost never do). He's got to eat sometime. And will eventually. He's just a one-track-mind dog; and his track is full of Elsie right now.

He's still sweet otherwise, and he listens to me. And he's still affectionate. But he's mounting Baxter like crazy when I let them play together (poor Baxter doesn't have a clue).

Too bad they don't make sedatives for frustrated males--like an anti-viagra for dogs.

Maybe I'll call the vet. Or the kennel. Ridge may need some space (for me to survive).

Elsie, on the other hand, is calm and sweet and low-key. She doesn't know what to make of it all. Give her another year-and-a-half and she'll know. For now I'm enjoying her oblivion.

I think I'll buy stock in ear plugs.

'Til next time.
Joan

Heat? What's heat? All I care about is that I have an itch. 

Elsie's Ripe; Ridge is Bonkers

Well, I'm back from my out-of-town speaking engagement. The engagement went well (great group), and the crew here welcomed me home with open arms (hubby) and sloppy kisses (the canine kids) when I arrived.

I'm thinking, however, that maybe I should've stayed away, like, say, for...hmmmm, another two weeks or so?. ;o)

Elsie's in heat, and Ridge is going bonkers. I've been home less than 24 hours and the two are already bouncing off the walls enough to make me want to hide 'til this heat thing is over (strains of Monty Python and the Holy Grail's knights crying "run away, run away" dance in my head).

Elsie started her first heat cycle just over a week ago: just spotting, really. She demonstrated no major physical changes then, but she was acting more subdued than normal. When I came home last night, though, I noticed that her vulva is enlarged and swollen, and now she's become nutso dog (wanting to be with the boys). She's still dripping, of course, and cocking her tail, and throwing her butt in the boys' faces, but it's the barking that will do me in.

Ridge, our experienced stud, is very interested in her now, much more than when I left. He knows what's going on. He's done this before (he sired litters for his previous owners). Both of their behaviors suggest Elsie is in her prime fertility days. But at ten months old, she's too young to mate and not yet old enough for hip and eye screenings. She needs to wait, and wait she will.

So, we rotate cratings between Elsie and Ridge. We keep them separated--they're not together even for a second. Only one goes outside at a time. We put them in separate rooms to eat. We crate them both at night to sleep (double latched in separate crates). Don works with, exercises, and trains them apart.

And Baxter, our neutered gentle giant, is oblivious to it all. LOL. He just goes along for the ride. He could give a rip that Elsie's in heat (heat? what's heat?). It doesn't bother him in the least.

At least one of the dogs is sane for now. That's our Baxter-Boos for ya; he goes with the flow.

Oh, and did I mention that dear hubby leaves for Ireland on a business trip tomorrow? I get to do this Elsie-in-her-prime-fertile-period-making-Ridge-nuts-time alone. Yee haw. Won't ths be fun. ;o)

LOL. And so it goes....

'Til next time,
Joan

Dad, will you dance with me since Mom's away? Please....... :o)  

Don't worry, Elsie; Mom will be back soon.  

Dad...I need a hug. Mom's gone the WHOLE weekend doing that speaking thing again. :o(  

C'mon, Mom. Let me play with the boys. Please? Pretty please?