Two Barking Dogs

Clover has always had an “iffy” constitution. When she was a puppy, I had to teach her to stop eating on command to slow her down otherwise she would inhale her meal and most assuredly it would come back up within a very short time. The slower she eats, the better the food stays down. At one point I was convinced that Clover had that projectile vomiting down better than Linda Blair in the Exorcist. By the way, a plastic dust pan is a great scooper for picking up dog vomit. Just thought you might want to know.

A couple of years ago, Clover started to shed and it didn’t seem to stop. The back of her legs were practically bald, and her stomach and chest area looked like she had been dipped in Nair. For her first two years or so, she had terrible acne with big pimples on her chin and mouth that would only clear up with antibiotics. It wasn’t until the acne came back and the shedding problem persisted that I asked the vet if they could be connected. The vet here in Virginia thought it might be a food allergy and said I could do a bunch of tests on her, or eliminate certain foods from her diet to see if that helped. I chose the diet route.

Now, I could have chosen the easy route and bought the special allergy diet food from the vets, but no, not me! I decided to cook for my dog. And, cook I did.

I read a couple of books on nutrition for dogs, especially Labradors, and came up with a plan. I bought a Costco membership, and set out to buy some large packages of salmon and the big box of sweet potatoes. I went to the farmer’s market to buy organic veggies, and to Trader Joe’s for organic brown rice and barley. It took me a while to get the right balance, but Clover didn’t mind eating all of the “mistakes.” I finally came up with a basic recipe that worked:

• Couple pounds of sweet potatoes. Cut up (not peeled) , boiled and then mashed. I kept the sweet potatoes in a separate container from the fish/veggie mix.
• Couple pounds of salmon or tilapia fillets – steamed.
• Couple pounds of yellow squash or zucchini – cut up and steamed with spinach, carrots, and green beans.

• To this, I added chopped apples, blueberries, avocados, and whatever appropriate veggie or fruit I had on hand. And occasionally some cooked brown rice or barley (organic of course).
• And each meal (about 1 1/2 cups twice a day) was topped with a teaspoon of good olive oil and some garlic powder.

By eliminating the corn and wheat that is prevalent in commercial dog kibble, Clover’s acne cleared up for good, and the hair started to fill back in where she was going bald. I continued to cook for her, and have to admit a couple of times to heating up some of the fish and veggies for myself. The vet was extremely impressed with Clover’s good health as was I. She looked great — shiny full coat, no skin problems either.

I realized it was time to look for a good commercial food when one day, my mom called and she could hear the cooking sounds in the background. She asked what I was making, and I told her “fish and vegetables.” She responded, “I’m so glad to hear you are eating healthy!”, to which I told her that was what the dog was eating and my lunch was a microwaved hot dog.

Have you ever read the ingredients on a dog food package? What the heck is all of that crap? This just shows a part of the ingredients off of a bag of very popular dog food sold in the grocery store. Where’s the meat?

Ground Whole Corn, Rice, Salmon Meal, Corn Gluten Meal, Meat and Bone Meal (Natural Source of Calcium), Chicken By-Product Meal (Natural Source of Glucosamine), Natural Poultry Flavor, Wheat Flour, Animal Fat and it goes on and on ….

After a whole lot of research, I decided on a food that the dog(s) love and I feel good about feeding it to them. Clover’s shedding is normal now and she is no longer bald. I am always recommending the Wellness Brand, and feed my two dogs the Wellness Simple Duck (or Venison). They both have ingredients that I understand and the dogs can digest without any problems:

• Ground Rice: With the bran layer removed, this quality carbohydrate source is highly digestible.
• Deboned Duck: Chosen as a “novel” protein source due to its unique amino acid profile.
• Rice Protein Concentrate: Highly concentrated, easily digestible protein source, specially selected as a unique protein complement to duck.
• Sunflower Oil: High quality fat source rich in Omega-6 fatty acids that help maintain healthy skin and shiny coat.
• Whole Flaxseed: Outstanding fiber source for healthy digestion. A naturally rich source of Omega-3 fatty acids.

I did try feeding her the Wellness Fish and Sweet Potato version, but to tell the truth, it made her urine and poop smell like dead fish.

I’ve made about 15 road trips to Florida over the last 5 years first with Clover, and more recently with Clover and Cosmo, happily ensconced in the back seat for almost 1,000 miles.

Clover is a great traveler. She enjoys the car, does not get car sick, and she understands the concept of short pit stops: out, do your business, back in the car, let’s go!

One thing Clover doesn’t handle well is bad weather. On one particular trip, we were outside of Savannah and I was thinking about driving on through to my parents in one day; however, the weather looked like it was going to go downhill fast, so I decided to get a room. I stopped at a hotel that we had stayed at before, pulled the car up as close to the front door as I could, cracked the windows half way in the front, and left Clover so I could check in.

Check-in took about 5 minutes, and during that time the weather really started to blow. Big dark black clouds blew in with a couple of claps of thunder in the distance. I hurried out to the car because I knew Clover would be frantic.

I looked in the window – no Clover. I opened the back door of the SUV – no Clover. Looked in the front window again. No Clover. At this point, my stomach started to heave, and I thought I was going to throw up at any point. All I could think of was she was freaked out by the lightning and thunder and she had bolted out of the window. My mind was racing, I felt sick, and needed to sit down. I opened the front driver’s side door so I could sit down.

There she was on the floor under the steering wheel curled up into a dark black ball with her head under the front seat trying to hide from the thunder. And shaking. Just like me.

When we travel now, I always have two sets of keys with me so I can keep the windows closed with the car running and the a/c on and the doors locked.

We have a great advantage of being in the middle of an area with three dog parks within an easy drive, and of course, the one furthest away from home is our favorite. We started going to the park in the morning once or twice a week, and by the first summer in Virginia, we were hanging out at the park five or six days a week. Clover was lean and fit, but most of all tired, and I met some very nice people with equally nice dogs.

One of our first visits to the Dog Park has been nicknamed “The Mud Bowl.” There were about 15 or 20 dogs in the park with their humans all of whom were trying to stay out of the way of the maniacs. The dogs all seemed to be spurred on by the smell of the wet muddy earth as they ran around the park flinging mud in the air. There were a couple of greyhounds in the park, and that is always good — they love to run — and the other dogs (Clover included) love to give chase. I was afraid that I was going to fall in the mud (and never get up again) so I grabbed onto a tree and didn’t let go until it was time to go.

It is always easy to figure out when its time to go home … Clover will come over flop down on ground, or on this day, the mud. We made our way out of the park without me doing a slip and slide in the mud. When I got to the truck, I realized this filthy mud encrusted dog was going to get into my nice clean truck! I just happened to have an old t-shirt in the truck so I put the t-shirt on Clover to keep the mud “in.” She didn’t mind, she was so tired she passed out on the floor.

My next thought was how to get her cleaned off! When we got to the front door, I planned to walk her straight through to the back door and into the yard to hose her down, but she had a better idea. Clover went straight up the stairs, into the bathroom, and jumped into the bath tub where she waited for me to come give her a bath.

Smart dog!

After my parents headed back to Florida, I started doing the things that a new homeowner does like unpacking, hanging pictures, and unpacking, and … well you get the idea. Clover seemed to be happy to be back home with me, that was of course, when the Little Menace next door wasn’t barking its head off and keeping us awake.

I am in a townhouse that is called a “quad house” …. take a giant square and divide it into four townhouses with the two in front facing the parking area and the two in the back around the side. Below and to the left of my bedroom window is the front units’ side yard off of their kitchen. The couple that lived there were not married, she had a little boy from her first marriage, and they had two small dogs — one was a Chihuahua and another an Italian greyhound. The greyhound hardly ever made a sound and was fairly well-behaved so it seemed that he was allowed more time in the house. The Little Menace only knew how to do one thing, and that was wreak havoc inside, which resulted in him being thrown out in the yard at all hours of the day and night no matter what the weather. And, of course, with The Little Menace barking all of the time, it made for some sleepless nights, and one insane Labrador. I can only imagine how bad it was when I wasn’t home. A few times, Clover and I slept on the floor in the back bedroom on the other side of the “square” with the door closed and the radio on so we wouldn’t hear The Little Menace.

Talk about bad dog owners–my neighbors were the worst. They would throw open their front door and let the dogs out to run the neighborhood unsupervised. The Little Menace would hide in the bushes and if I had Clover out for a walk or we were on our way to the car, it would jump out and bark like a maniac. A couple of times, The Little Menace attacked Clover by grabbing one of her ears and not letting go. I had to kick it to get it loose. When they were allowed to roam the neighborhood, The Little Menace would come over and sit on my doorstep and bark and my front door. Just bark. If I opened the door, he would charge me trying to bite my ankles. Little Menace my eye .. Little Bastard was more like it.

I tried to talk with the neighbors about their dogs running loose (oh, don’t worry, they’ll be OK, they always come back) and how the Little Menace barked all of the time (really, no kidding?). The vet put Clover on Valium to help calm her as her anxiety and barking just continued to get worse. We took refuge in time spent outside of the house (the dog park and yard saleing) and I spent hours thinking of ways to do harm to The Little Menace. Poison laced treats thrown over the fence, perhaps? or maybe I could catch The Little Menace and drive him to the mountains and feed him to a bear? or, well, you get the idea. I was not thinking rationally and neither was Clover. Clover had her prescription for Valium, which helped her, but “what about me?” I would get at most 3 or 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Why I never called the police or made a complaint with the HOA is beyond me. I guess I kept thinking it would get better, but it never did.

Then I snapped. I approached my neighbor and let her have it full force. She cried. I felt better. And then, about a week or two later, I suddenly realized that the only sounds from next door were the occasional barks from the little greyhound, but in general it was very quiet. I also hadn’t noticed The Little Menace running loose either. Hmmm. I left the neighbors a bottle of wine and a thank you note at the front door saying how much I appreciated their attention to the problem, and how much better life was in general. I saw the neighbor about two weeks after I left the wine at the front door, and she was very nice (never did thank me for the wine). I reiterated how happy I was to see they were addressing the issue of their dogs.

She just smiled at me at thanked me for making such a big deal about the issue. She said she never wanted either of the dogs that it was the boyfriend’s idea, that she was more of a cat person anyway (oh, yeah, I forgot, they had two cats, too) and she had given the dog away. Just like that! I had offered to help her work with the dog on obedience training, but to her, it was just easier to give the dog away. Anyway, she said their lives were so much better too since The Little Menace was lifting his leg on everything inside the house or eating out of the cat box. About six months later, the neighbors sold the house and moved to another larger home nearby. Again, I reiterate, some people should not have pets.

Good riddance to The Little Menace, too.

A dog thinks: Hey, these people I live with feed me, love me, provide me with a nice warm, dry house, pet me, and take good care of me… They must be Gods!

A cat thinks: Hey, these people I live with feed me, love me, provide me with a nice warm, dry house, pet me, and take good care of me… I must be a God!

So, I was in Virginia working, and Clover was on vacation in Florida. There was something very wrong with that equation!

I found a wonderful real estate agent with the patience of a saint. Betty sent me e-mails of listings, took me from one end of Arlington to Fairfax to Loudon Counties to everywhere in between to show me properties, and I would go to open houses on the weekends, too. Betty would call me and say, “I found a townhouse, its perfect, has a great yard,” and off I would go to look at it. I was about to give up the search for good, leave Clover with my parents and start looking for another overseas job instead of staying in the D.C. area. All the time that I am procrastinating, the real estate prices keep climbing. I am not sure exactly how many places I looked at, but Betty said it was close to 100. I think it was closer to 200! And, boy were some of them real stinkers. Literally. (Note to self: write an entry about real-estate shopping in NoVa.)

I finally found a townhouse that I liked, at the right price, and with a fairly easy commute. Woohoo! I made an offer, got the house, and called my folks to tell them that I bought Clover a house. One of the things that I noticed when I was at the townhouse for the inspection was the next door neighbors’ yappy chihuahua. At the time, I thought the dog was just being loud because there were three people in and out of the house, a guy on the roof, but in the fog of almost being a new home owner, I discounted the yapper too quickly. Little did I know how much that little 6 pound menace was going to affect us once we were completely moved in. (Note to self: write an entry about “The Menace” next door and how the little bastard drove us both to the edge of insanity.)

After closing on the property, I stayed in the apartment for another 6 weeks while I had the house completely redone by adding hardwoods and new carpet, painting the whole place from top to bottom, and replacing the appliances. So, by the time I moved into the townhouse it had been almost a year since leaving Dublin. My parents made the trek north to Virginia with Clover firmly ensconced in the back seat of their Buick squeezed in between a cooler, a couple of suitcases, and a sewing machine. My parents arrived in Virginia the day after a huge snowstorm, and for an old guy that hadn’t driven in snow in over 30 years, my dad maneuvered I-95 like a pro. (Note to self: write an entry about how much I hate Sears [the appliances].)

The moving company arrived the next day with about 120 boxes of stuff that I surely couldn’t live without. My nephew Jason who was living in the area at the time helped my dad hang window shades and drapery rods. My parents were sleeping in my room, Jason was on the floor in one of the guest rooms, and I was sleeping in the living room on the sleeper sofa. Or, I should say, not sleeping because of The Damned Menace who barked non-stop day and night as a result of being locked out in the yard all of the time. Some people should not have pets.

I am pretty sure that if I did this to either of my dogs, they would pack their bags and leave.

Doesn’t mean we can’t laugh at other dogs that let their people get away with murder.

I did try it once with reindeer ears. Clover ate them.

Happy Easter.

Clover settled right in with my parents enjoying the Florida weather and turning brown from the sunshine. She embarked on a 9-month-long vacation while I moved into a small (no pets) apartment outside of D.C. The whole idea was that we would unite in Virginia after I bought a house in a few months. Well, a few months turned into 9 and Clover took great delight wrecking my folks yard and house! She loved the giant yard and playing with my parents’ Golden Retriever. They became the “The New Juvenile Delinquents” by digging up every plant in the back yard including my mom’s vegetable (ate all the tomatoes) and herb garden. They dug up, ate, and destroyed 5 or 6 very large hibiscus bushes, and stripped the bark off of a large pine tree. Misty instructed Clover on the fine art of digging holes — something she had never done before. The back yard looked like it had been invaded by the gopher from Caddyshack. Clover’s new snack became the hibiscus flower and her new best friend – my dad.

My dad tells me often, “No more black dogs, please!” With her black face and black eyes, my dad (with his eyesight failing) is always reaching down to pet Clover and poking her in the eyes! Whenever she sees my dad’s hand coming her way for a pat on the head, she squints or closes her eyes now.

I can ask Clover, “Where’s Cosmo?” — Nothing. I can ask Clover, “Where’s Mom?” — Nothing. If I ask Clover, “Where’s Dad?” — She perks up, stands at attention, barks a couple of times, and runs around the house looking for my father.

The picture is my dad with Clover on his lap and Misty at his feet. A very common sight. Photo was taken a couple of years ago on vacation in North Georgia.

When I moved back to the States in 2003, I sent Clover ahead to my folks in Florida by a couple of weeks with Delta Airlines. I bought the obligatory shipping container and set it up in the living room for about 3 weeks before her departure. I started feeding her in the crate in order to get her comfortable with it. She, on the other hand would grab her bowl of food, and drag it out of the crate to eat her meals. I crated her for 5 minutes at a time, and then proceeded to extend the time until she could stay in the crate for an hour or two without going ballistic.

The day we went to the airport was the coldest day in Ireland in 10 years. And, here we were: Jim (friend with a van), Clover and me, freezing to death outside of the Delta Cargo Terminal where they were determined to finish and sign the paperwork in the parking lot. Then a large guy on a lift truck came and scooped Clover in her crate up and carted her off into a cavernous warehouse. Those darned black eyes staring back at me wondering what the hell was going on.

When I got into the office, I immediately plugged the airway bill number into the computer and signed up for automatic e-mail updates. The flight was supposed to take off around 12:00 noon, but it was delayed six hours. You guess right, she missed her connection in Atlanta.

This is where it all gets murky. I was assured by Delta that they would get her on a later flight out of Atlanta and not to worry. It turned out that the planes all going to Florida later in the day could not take live cargo and they would kennel her in Atlanta overnight. What no one took into consideration was that the kennel was closed due to a holiday and as a result Delta decided to keep Clover in her crate in the Cargo Terminal Office until they could get her on a flight for Florida the next morning.

At this point, I was frantic. The computer showed her in Florida, Delta in Atlanta said she was at the kennel, and the kennel’s phone message said they were closed. My parents had planned to make the trip to the airport that evening, until they got a call saying that they would send her on the first flight in the morning that arrived at 7:15 a.m.

Unbeknown to any of us, Clover was placed on the very last flight out of Atlanta that night and arrived Florida at 1:00 a.m. They were apparently deadheading a plane and crew, and I found out later that since the plane couldn’t take live cargo, they loaded her crate into the first class cabin!

At 2:00 a.m., my parents get a call, “Why aren’t you people here to pick up this dog?” My mom and dad, awakened from sleep, and looking at the clock, asked if it was possible if they could pick her up first thing in the morning. The cargo guy noted in his log book that before he left, he got a rope and took Clover for a walk around the airport, gave her a big bottle of water, and fed her his leftover bologna sandwich.

Almost 24 hours after leaving Dublin, Clover arrives at my folks house in Florida, greeted by their crazy Golden Retriever, an endless bowl of water, and freedom from that damned crate. I get the hives just thinking about our next move and hope we can drive there instead of fly.

Don’t Even Think About It – This is a Costume Free Zone!

I kept Maya again over Christmas, and the two together accomplished the final destruction of the door frame and the linoleum floor. Maya missed her people, and Clover missed being an only child. Being winter and wet, the yard was practically destroyed with the running and chasing. I didn’t put up a Christmas tree that year because I was afraid of giving them a new focus for their energy. Clover got a soccer ball for Christmas and the two of them enjoyed playing goalie. I was exhausted by the time Maya went home.

At the end of January, I flew home to Florida for a visit with the folks and Clover went to stay with Maya for 10 days. Maya’s family had a big old Victorian house filled with lots of kids, a huge yard, and a stay-at-home mom. After I dropped Clover off for her stay, mom headed to the States for a week with two of the kids, leaving Dad behind with two children and two crazy dogs.

The most favorite thing to do at Maya’s house was to chase each other up and down the stairs all day long. The dad took a nap one afternoon on the couch in the TV room. He woke up to a pair of destroyed eyeglasses and no more Nikes. When everyone was out of the house, the dogs were confined to the kitchen, where the slightest touch of the back door would set off the burglar alarm which resulted in way too many trips home to reset the thing. Clover and Maya were banned to the backyard for a while, where they decided to do some landscaping. They dug up a small tree (about 6-7 feet tall, with a trunk about 7 inches in diameter). They pulled the tree across the yard and under the above-ground oil tank where they had dug themselves a nice hole. The tree was not salvageable and had to be destroyed.

The worst destruction by was the wall in the stairwell leading to the upstairs. The Victorian had some really old red and gold flocked wallpaper (ugly) in the landing and up the stairs. When Maya’s family came home from after a short absence (dogs not locked in the kitchen) they found a huge hole in the way .. the paper removed (eaten) and the old plaster and the wood lathe behind it completely removed leaving a gapping hole of about 2′  x 2′. There was a small leak in the plumbing that could be heard dripping in the wall and apparently it really really annoyed Clover and Maya.

Fast forward to this morning. Specifically 7:15 a.m. We are under attack from the sky! Rat-a-tat-tat reverberating through the house!

Crap. The woodpecker is back. Every year in March I am visited by a Pileated Woodpecker that seems to be in love with my chimney cap. He hits his beak against the cap off an on for about 45 minutes every day for about a month beginning religiously at 7:15 a.m. or even earlier.

The first time it happened, I had no clue as to what was happening, ran outside in my bathrobe, crossed the street to see what was on the roof and making that horrendous noise. Lo and behold. A very large male woodpecker. Knocking his brains out on the chimney cap on my roof.

The first few years it drove me nuts and sent Clover into insanity overdrive. She would stand in the living room and bark at the fireplace where the noise is the loudest. Clover must be mellowing a bit, because this morning, the first day of the “Mighty Early Awakening,” she lifted her head, looked around, barked, and went and hid in the closet.

Does anyone know if Pileated Woodpeckers are a protected species?

Clover always keeps her eye on my dinner, most of the time from a good distance. I have never fed her table scraps and she knows that the food on the plate is mine and the food in the bowl on the floor is hers.

I had prepared a bowl of pasta with meat sauce, poured myself a rather nice glass of Chianti, and carried it into the living room on a tray. Placed the tray on the coffee table so I could eat and enjoy the evening news at the same time. I realized I needed the salt and pepper shakers. I was gone from the living room about 30 seconds which was just long enough for Clover to get up on the table and completely empty the wine glass. Leave the pasta, take the wine!

Another call to the vets. Orla told me to keep an eye on her, but that she should be ok. Clover? She snored like an old man all night long and looked a little cross-eyed the next morning.

I offered to watch Clover’s litter-mate over our first Thanksgiving holiday while Maya’s family went to Germany. Maya’s family offered to watch Clover at a later date should I need or want to travel. Maya was a wonderful puppy, too, and she and Clover got along very well. I nicknamed them “The Flying Labradors.” They would jump and fly through the air defying gravity, tumbling and rolling each other across the yard. They truly enjoyed each others company, and they were very fun to watch — just get the heck out of the way.

On Thursday, I was invited to my boss’ house for dinner, and intended to leave the dogs in the kitchen while I was gone. Clover had already begun to destroy the linoleum floor by this time, and she was intent on sharing her experience with Maya and showing her how to strip the wood off of the door frame, too. I had read somewhere that pepper sauce is a good deterrent for dogs, along with bitter apple spray. I didn’t have the spray, but I did have a big bottle of Tabasco hot sauce. So, I put some sauce on a sponge and wiped the back of the door and the frame where Clover had started to remove the door frame. I started to head out the door, but decided to go back and look through the window in the door to see what they were doing – they were so quiet.

There they are, both of them, frantically licking the Tabasco off of the back of the door. So intent, they didn’t even notice me looking in on them. They seemed possessed — they just couldn’t stop! Lick, lick, slobber! I tapped on the window and the two faces look up at me … weeping eyes, snot hanging from their noses, and swollen tongues. I thought I had poisoned them both!

I went back into the kitchen and got a wet towel to wipe them both off. I got out a scrub brush to clean the door of the Tabasco, and waited about 30 minutes to make sure they both weren’t going to croak on me from ingesting the hot sauce. I was late for dinner, ate quickly, and made a fast departure. I just couldn’t relax at all … wondering what was awaiting my return.

Two black labs curled up together sound asleep on the kitchen floor.

One thing this dog could do is scare me. When I got home from work or shopping or anywhere I dare go without taking Clover with me, I expected her to be at the door to greet me when I get home. When she wasn’t there, all kinds of terrible thoughts run through my brain (still do).

One day, I got home from work and no Clover. I turned off the alarm, plunked my bag and coat down and went into the living room – no Clover. My heart was racing. As I head for the kitchen, I pass the separate dining room. She is sound asleep on top of the dining room table snuggled up to one of my huge Waterford crystal bowls. I was relieved to find her in one piece, but I have one question for that dog — how the hell did she get up there? (all six chairs were pushed up under the table). She must have got a good head-start on that jump!

Another time, I came home and again headed to the living room – no Clover. Called her – nothing. In the living room, the six sofa cusions were all missing! I called again – nothing. Looked in the kitchen and the dining room. Checked the utility room. Nothing! Where was my dog? and where were the cushions from the sofa?

I headed upstairs and found Clover completely passed out in one of the back guest rooms lying on top of the sofa pillows which she had placed on the floor in front of the window so she could catch the afternoon sun. (Why she couldn’t just lay on the bed in front of the window is beyond me.) She must have exhausted herself with all of that redecorating. She was slightly embarrassed when I yelled “robbers in the house,” and she jumped up barking!

Clover has always had a fascination with shiney things. She still looks at herself in the mirror and barks at the strange dog looking back. But, it all started with Mary’s patent leather pumps.

My friend Mary is a real cat person. I don’t think she had ever spent a lot of time around big dogs. She wasn’t afraid of Clover, but she most definitely could have done without being beat with the tail and the constant attemps to lick her hands. Mary bought Clover a stuffed blue puppy toy back from Boston. We still have it. Blue Dog doesn’t have much fur left and I only let her play with it once and a while and then scoop it up and put it back in the closet. Clover loves Blue Dog and doesn’t play with it any more. She will just walk around the house with it in her mouth.

One day, when Mary stopped by after work, I poured us a glass of white wine and we sat in the living room to collect our thoughts after a long week. Clover was jumping around like an idiot until she found Mary’s shoes. The dog was fascinated by Mary’s patent leather shoes! She would not leave them alone — sniffing and licking them — trying to give them a high-gloss shine! It was very strange and it had us both in hysterics. Mary, trying to cross her ankles at an angle under the chair so Clover couldn’t get to the shoes!

I haven’t seen Mary in a couple of years, but we talk on the phone from time-to-time and e-mail often. She ALWAYS asks about Clover (and Cosmo). And, I ALWAYS think about the dog’s fascination with her shoes!

Another thing that seemed to fascinate Clover was my mom with curlers in her hair. We were on vacation in Connemara for a week and mom had just put her hair up in some curlers, and sat down to read a book until her hair dried. Clover jumped up on the couch next to her and couldn’t stop sniffing at the curlers! When the curlers came out, Clover tried to run off with them. I think her staring made mom a little uneasy, but she finally pushed Clover off the couch and picked up her book. Clover stared, waiting for the strange critters to fall out of mom’s hair … waiting with anticipation so she could scoop them up.

Clover is a big barker! It wasn’t always this way. When she was a puppy, she never barked. I taught her to bark on command. She is a very quick learner, and Clover found her voice quickly! I can still make a signal to her and she’ll bark very loudly, or I can make a motion and she’ll bark in her “inside voice” which is a little softer. That said, she is one loud dog. I mentioned in an earlier posting that Clover is a little neurotic and suffers from separation anxiety. The barking seems to be a manifestation of many things, including the anxiety.

Clover barks at noises. She barks at me when she wants something or if I’m not paying attention to her. She barks at the water bowl and food dish when they are empty. She barks at the squirrels. She barks at other dogs when they are playing, thus being crowned “the hall monitor” by other dog owners at the dog park.

She even barks at her ass when she farts.

My dog’s walker, Jane, called me about a week after the duct tape incident to let me know that I needed to buy some cigarettes on the way home. Actually, what she said, in a very English accent was, “You might want to stop by the Spar [Ireland's version of 7-11] and get some fags.” (I hadn’t heard anyone call cigs – fags in a really long time!) She also noted that we now know that Clover can reach things on the kitchen counter. The day before, I had spent the equivalent of $50 on a carton of Marlboro Lights and put the carton up on the counter. When Jane came into the kitchen, Clover was sitting extremely still in the middle of the room surrounded by shredded cigarettes. Tobacco and butts everywhere from one end of the room to the other! Jane cleaned up the mess, took Clover out for a walk, and I stopped at Spar on the way home. Ever since that incident, whenever I would light up a cigarette, Clover would leave the room! I quit smoking about 3 years ago, and my dog applauds me!