Let me say first off that this is a true story.  It happened many years ago, and has become one of those family stories that gets retold almost every year on Thanksgiving.

My mom cooked the Thanksgiving turkey early in the day, and the plan was that we would go visit friends across town, and come back for dinner about 45 minutes  later.  So, when the turkey was done, mom covered it in aluminum foil, put the covered pan on the kitchen counter next to the oven, and off we went.  My parents, my younger sister, and me.  Left home alone was one 22 pound Butterball turkey, all the makings for gravy, and vegetables that would only need to be reheated when we got home for dinner.  Oh, yea, did I forget to mention that the dogs were left home, too?

Cleo and Kissy were mother and daughter.  They were both black poodles and weighed in at about 20-25 lbs.  They were nice dogs, and both of them absolutely loved my mother.  They tolerated the rest of the world.  They would attack my dad anytime he got in or out of bed, and while they weren’t terribly destructive dogs, I know for a fact that Cleo used to do things out of spite.  Leave me home and go out to have fun without me?  I think I’ll dig a hole in your mattress.  Stay out all day and ignore me on the weekend?  Well, I think I’ll just destroy every pillow in the house so that when you go to vacuum up the mess you burn up two vacuum motors.

I think you can see where this is going.  Our kitchen in the house where I grew up was early-1960’s Florida turquoise, and if you were an agile French Poodle, you could jump on the kitchen chair, on to the kitchen table and counters, walk across the kitchen counters, dodge the double sinks, and voila! You would find yourself right there on the counter next to the oven.  The very special place where a 22 pound Butterball was relaxing under its shiny aluminum foil hat.

When we got home from our visit, imagine the surprise on everyone’s face when upon entering the kitchen, Tom Turkey was lying on the kitchen floor partially eaten and partially destroyed!  My mom started yelling.  My dad started laughing.  And two little black dogs went running for cover under the couch in the family room.

After everything was cleaned up, Tom Turkey’s remains discarded, and we sat down to a dinner of vegetables.  No gravy for the potatoes since the dogs had eaten the giblets, too.  If you could ask my dad, he would tell you that it was probably the best Thanksgiving dinner he ever had.  He likes the veggies the most, and was probably cheering on the dogs for their ingenious behavior.   That was of course, until the turkey, and grease, and giblets hit the dogs straight in the gut.  I won’t describe what followed for the next couple of days except to say that it involved a lot of paper towels, Lysol disinfectant, and more yelling by my mother.

So.  The morals of this story?

• Don’t leave your cooked turkey dinner unattended in a house with a dog;
• If you do leave your turkey dinner unattended, make backup plans for dinner;
• It is always wise to have Pine-Sol or Lysol, paper towels, and a strong constitution on hand if you have mischievous dogs.

The culprits:

When Clover was a puppy and in the process of destroying my home piece by piece, someone at work told me that if I left the radio on for her, the music would “soothe the savage beastie.”  At that point, I decided “what the heck, it can’t hurt.” The first day, I tuned the radio to a classical music station, patted Clover on the head and went to work.  When I got home from work, I was greeted by Clover and a completely shredded telephone book.  Strike the classical music.

I moved to Country & Western.  The results with C&W netted me new holes in the drywall, and a couple of destroyed shoes.  Strike the C&W.  From there, I worked my way through the music choices, all of which provided Clover no comfort at all.  As a matter of fact, I think the music might have even spurred her on in some cases.

Then, I found Talk Radio.  I can’t remember the station that I tuned into, but this genre  seemed to help.  The sound of human voices seemed to have a positive effect on Clover.  It wasn’t a cure-all, but it helped.

Now, fast forward 8 years to Northern Virginia.  I still leave the radio on for her when I leave the house, and have it tuned to WTOP so she can listen to the weather report, Traffic on the 8’s, and stay up-to-date on Washington News and Sports.  The one and only thing I wish is that they would ditch the commercials that use the sound of fireworks in them, usually around any holiday like the 4th of July, Memorial and Labor Day.  Drives poor Clover crazy.

There are all kinds of “music for dogs” CDs out there, some of them backed by “studies” made by veterinarians, experts in dog behavior, and so on.  You can spend lots of money on music for your dog(s).  I am not saying whether they work or not.  What I am saying is you should put that Visa card back in your wallet, and put on a Talk Radio station.  Your dog(s) wont care what they’re talking about, but they may just enjoy the sound.

Yes.  It is true.  My dogs like pot holders and they are not choosy.  The like the used/dirty ones the best, probably because they smell like food! Cosmo is always sneaking them out of the laundry basket, and I find them in the strangest places.  Last week, I found two of them in my bed under the covers!

When Clover was a puppy, she would steal my pot holders, Tupperware lids, slippers, and socks. Most of the time she didn’t destroy these items like she did with everything else, but instead would bring them to me so I would throw them for her.  Tupperware lids fly pretty well (like a Frisbee) but they are hard plastic and if they hit something like a lamp or a small ceramic statute, it could get messy.  Slippers and socks were more for playing tug-o-war, but pot holders?   Oh yes!

They are used for tug, fetch a la Frisbee, and all other kinds of games that you can think up.  And, if you throw a pot holder, and hit something with it, they usually don’t do any damage. The ones that have a silver silicone backing are usually stronger and Clover and Cosmo have yet to shred one of these or pull it apart.   Some of the cheaper ones have bit the dust, but in general the pot holder stands up pretty well.

Word to the wise:  Do not, under any circumstances give your dog one of those homemade kind made by Girl Scouts with one of those plastic looms.  They come apart too easily, and those little colorful bands that get woven into a useless potholder that melts with high heat, can cause gastrointestinal problems for your dog if they swallow any of those synthetic loops.

Really.  Ask Clover.

When Clover first came to live with me almost eight years ago, she had a nice comfy bed of her own.  Yeah, well.  That didn’t last very long.  As soon as she was big enough to jump on the bed, that’s where she ended up.  Stretched across the end of the bed with her head resting on my feet.  I started out with good intentions of keeping her off the bed.

When Cosmo came to live with me three years ago, I crate trained him.  He stayed in that crate while I was at work and for the first six months, he slept there at night too.  I bought a soft-sided collapsible crate at Costco for the bedroom so he could sleep in my room, but be contained in one safe spot.  All was well in my world.  Clover on the end of the bed.  Cosmo in his crate. But then, I got soft and wimped out.  I fell off the dog rules bandwagon.  I failed.   I let Cosmo out of the crate at night so he didn’t feel left out.  As if.

Fast forward to today.  I have a puffy floor pillow for one of the dogs in my bedroom.  I have one closet in my bedroom specifically arranged (without clothing) for Clover in case she needs to hide from the Bogey Man.  There is another dog pillow bed on the floor in the living room, and two of the plastic-molded dog beds in the tv room.  The dogs must be comfortable after all.

There is a strange hierarchy thing going on that I noticed a while back.  If Cosmo gets on the bed first, Clover will only sleep on the floor or in the closet.  If Clover gets on the bed first Cosmo will either plop down on the floor pillow, go sleep on the bed in the guest room, or sit beside the bed and whine until I call him up on the bed.  He NEVER goes into Clover’s closet.  What I have also noticed is during the winter when the heat is turned down at bedtime, its a free-for-all to see who can get closest to me on the bed for some extra body heat.  My dogs have some stealth jumping-up on the bed properties too.  It doesn’t matter how many times I ban them from sleeping on the bed — that’s where they end up.  I try, but my will is weak, and theirs is stronger.

When we stay in a Hotel/Motel, I have to request a room with two beds.  One for me, and one for Clover.  Cosmo is a nervous traveler and feels better in his portable crate in the motel.  Its either lock him up, or listen to him pace all night long.

Please don’t share this picture with the nice people at the Homewood Suites Hotel in Fayetteville, North Carolina, but I figure if I have to pay an extra $10 per dog per night then we should all get a good night sleep.

There are a lot of opinions on dogs on/off the bed.  Experts abound on the internet. Good/Bad.  Yes/No.  Always/Never.  All I have to say is, make sure you keep your dog(s) Frontline applications up-to-date, or you’ll be sorry!

What exactly is “butt-tucking”, you ask?

First, not all Labs do the butt-tucking thing, and some of them tend to grow out of this funny behavior as they grow older.  Butt-tucking or “The Crazies,” or “The Zooms” as I named this wacky behavior is really quite fun to watch.  It happens when the dog kind of rounds its  hips, and “tucks” his/her behind under and runs as fast as he/she can as if the tail is doing the chasing!

One suggestion, if your Lab does the butt-tuck, get the heck out of the way!  There is no stopping a Lab in the middle of the Zooms!

Clover, now at the old age of 7, doesn’t get the Zooms all that often anymore.  She was expert at it as a puppy, and would Zoom up and down the stairs, around the garden, and behind the furniture and back up the stairs again.  Crazy is right!

Cosmo still Zooms.  He is 3 now, and his Zooms are fantastic.  I have never figured out what sets him off except he just “feels like a Zoom now.”  He will start off in the living room, head up the stairs, zoom into my bedroom and jump on the bed .. fly off the other side … back into the hallway … into the guest room … back down the stairs and around and around the living room.

Clover and Cosmo look so happy when they’re zooming about like nutjobs!  And, I cannot stop smiling either!  One note, it is nearly impossible to get a good Zoom photo!

Our first trip to the dog park was only a mild success. The only good thing about that park was the fact that it was fenced.  No running water, no grass (think mud), and a creepy walk past some big dumpsters and through an even creepier wooded area.  Clover wasn’t sure exactly what was expected of her that day, but she figured it out pretty quickly.

I looked over at Clover as she played with another Labrador Retriever and saw a huge amount of slobber/foam going on.  Another woman at the park started screaming at me, “Oh, My God, your dog is rabid! It’s foaming at the mouth.  I’m going to call the police!” I was new to this dog park thing, but I knew for a fact that there was nothing going on with Clover other than an overdose of slobber.  We left after a few more minutes: I, thinking about finding another dog park, and Clover with giant slobber strings hanging from her mouth and mud all over her stomach and legs and embedded in her paws.

I found another park that we came to frequent often.  I mean OFTEN.  We went to the park at least 5 or 6 times a week for about two-hours every visit.  I made some friends as did Clover, and for the next couple of years, we were regulars at the dog park. Clover was too tired to rearrange the furniture or chew the drywall, and all was good in our world.

I helped with fund-raising for a local group that was trying to get a dog park in our community.  I was happy to help out by writing solicitation letters, contacting local radio stations to promote our fund-raising dog washes.  The new park came about after about two-years of planning and its very convenient.  The only thing is, I don’t like that park one bit!  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come home to find ticks on me or the dogs.  I also noticed that a lot of the people that frequent this new park are totally clueless about their dogs, other people’s dogs, dog park ettiquite, county rules, etc.

One of the most memorable moments at the new park still never ceases to amuse me (or piss me off).  A woman with a large yellow Labradoodle puppy, a toddler and a small baby in a stroller, and her mother/father/in-laws arrived on a frigid day when the wind was really blowing.  The woman, along with her entourage lasted about 8 minutes in the windy cold.  They all ran for the heated car … leaving their dog in the dog park unsupervised.  I walked over to the car on my way out, and told her that she couldn’t leave her dog in the park unsupervised.  She told me to shut the f*ck up and mind my own business.  Now, me being me, didn’t take kindly to that one bit.  I told her that she should read the county bylaws which were posted at the gate .. that is of course if she could read!

I continue to take my dogs to the “old” park occassionally.  The people there are easy going with all of the idiot owners/bad dogs driven away, or on one occasion arrested (whole ‘nother story).  There have never been any problems with ticks there, but I notice that since we don’t frequent the parks as often as we used to, the dogs are much healthier.  A coincidence? I think not.   I think of the dog park like a lot of mothers think of daycare or kindergarten — a hotbed of germs!

I highly recommend finding a good dog park.  They are pretty good places for both owner and dog to socialize, get some exercise, and enjoy some outside time together in a controlled environment.  Just remember, “PICK UP THE POOP.”

Thank you very much.

Did you hear the one about the boy afraid to pet a neighbor’s dog?  The owner says, “He’s friendly – look, he’s even wagging his tail.” The boy responds, “Yeah, but he’s barking and growling.  I don’t know which end to believe!”

Ok, stupid joke!  It really is all about being able to read a dog’s body language.  Is the tail wagging?  What about the dog’s ears? Are they plastered back or standing nice and straight?  Is the tail wagging and the butt wiggling?   Is the tail wagging and the dog foaming at the mouth?  If so, move away, very very carefully.

Clover’s body language tells anyone approaching her that she’s an idiotic, butt wiggling, tail whacking smacking nut job, that has never bitten anyone.  This is one dog that has never even thought about biting, she would much rather take your knees out with her whip of a tale, sending you to the floor so she can sit on you and lick you to death.

Clover whacks that tail so hard when she is excited that she has, on occasion, split the end wide open  sending a Jackson Pollock-ish splatter of blood everywhere.  Its not a comforting sight, and can get really messy.  I have become quite expert at wrapping Clover’s tail with bandages and antibiotics.  I truly think that she lacks some nerves in her tail.  Either that or she has a huge capacity for pain.  I have always said her mind is wired a bit differently.  The vet says Clover suffers from a serious syndrome, common to Labrador Retrievers known as Happy Tail.

Cosmo’s tail wagging ability is a huge disappointment to me.  He can wag his tail, he just won’t.  At least not for me.  My mom walks in the room and his tail starts a-flapping.  His ears are up, he’s watching her move around, and if she stops to pet him or says hello to him, his tail cranks up turbo style.  For me?  Pffft.  Flap, wag, plop.  I mean really, Clover wags her tail in her sleep.  She wags her tail if I look at her, speak to her, or pet her.  Cosmo?  Flip, flap.  That’s about it.

Cosmo has become expert at ducking Clover’s tail.  Its really quite funny to see her dancing around with her tail whacking back and forth and Cosmo trying to dodge the tail-whacking.  When Cosmo was still growing, the tail would hit him across the face and he became expert at ducking the whip.  Now, he is taller than Clover, and lifts his head slightly and closes his eyes when the tail comes whipping around his way.

More Dog Tail Tales to come, including: “How I Broke Clover’s Tail (by me)” and, “What IS Cold Water Tail, And How Do I Get Rid of It (by Clover).”  I’ll save these two subject for a future posting.

Sorry.  I digress.  Back to some dog tail facts that you just cannot live without!

• Dogs don’t wag their tails when they are alone.
• Tail wagging is simply a physiological means of getting rid of surplus energy.
• A dog uses its tail to provide balance when it is running or turning quickly.
• Many dogs use their tail as a rudder when they are swimming.
• Puppies do not wag their tails until they are about 4 months old.
• The number of tailbones, and therefore the length of the tail, varies from breed to breed.
• When dogs feel positive about something, a research team contended in their study, they wag their tails to the right side of their rear ends. When they have negative feelings, their tails lean left. (Ref the attached photo — I wonder if the body is pointing left if it negates the negative feelings of the tail?)

Poor Cosmo.  So disadvantaged.  My little back garden here in Virginia has morphed from some nice grass, a couple of tomato plants and a wood pile, to what I call the poop patch.  The “lawn” has turned to crab grass.  Did you know that no matter how many dogs you have and how much they pee on crab grass, it won’t die?  But, I digress.  Poor Cosmo because the only time he gets to play in the garden is when we go to my parents in Florida.

When Clover came to me in Ireland, I was in a very lovely house with a walled garden.  I had to do some construction on the gate so she couldn’t slip through the wrought iron bars, but all in all, we both really loved that garden.  I hired a guy to come clean out some really horrid bushes [Whole 'nother story - I ended up finding out he was married to my second cousin! I even got the "family" discount.]  that were housing thousands of slugs and in turn, I spent a small fortune at the garden shop putting in roses and peonies, and lavender and nasturtiums, and anything else that I thought was pretty and in keeping with an English garden theme.

When Clover was very small, she loved to help in the garden by collecting up the empty plastic pots.  The bigger ones would swallow up her small head and she would run around the garden blindly!

Clover loved sniffing the flowers.  She still does.  She could be found sitting in the garden bed sniffing the roses, or inspecting the bees.  Ahh. The Bees.  They didn’t always take kindly to Clover’s big nose in their way, and she would from time-to-time come in the house yelping from a bee sting.  One time, her poor snout and eyes swelled up so badly I had to call the vet.  (Benadryl and a pack of frozen peas for her nose did the trick.)

When Clover went to stay with my parents for a while between moves and houses, she developed a penchant for eating the blooms off of the hibiscus bushes.  After sniffing them, of course.  It is not unusual when we are at my parents, for Clover to come in the house covered in yellow pollen from the hibiscus.  Her favorite place in my parents garden, is between the hibiscus bushes and the fence where my dad doesn’t mow the grass all that often.

I don’t keep houseplants, mostly because I got tired of cleaning up the mess when Herself was a puppy and so destructive.  Then Cosmo came along and I didn’t feel like giving him a target for inside relief.

These days, Clover still loves flowers.  She sniffs the dandelions, the lavender bushes, the roses, and anything else we pass on our walks.  Cosmo?  He just pee’s on them.

Here are a few pictures from the garden in Dublin (c. 2000 – 2003).  Click on the thumbnail for a larger view.

My two dogs may just be the exception to the rule.  They both like baths.  For crying out loud, Clover sleeps in the bath tub just for the heck of it (or if hiding from the big bad thunderstorm). They like the water (warm) and the suds (as long as I keep it out of their eyes), and the rinse down (warm, again).

Both Clover and Cosmo have been known to jump in the shower with me when I’m least expecting it (and scare the hell out of me).  Its not unusual to be in the shower, and have one or both of the dogs come check to make sure I haven’t turned into a prune.  While Cosmo doesn’t like to swim, he doesn’t mind getting hosed down or lathered up in the tub.  Both will jump in the shower, but won’t go out if its raining.  Go figure.

I started taking Clover, and then both of them, to a local Dog Day Care to use their self-serve dog wash a while ago.  Let’s face it, its tough on the old back and creaky knees to wash the dogs in the bath tub.  Not to even mention how freakin messy it can get.  Their self-serve dog wash is a real professional set-up.  The place I go to has one giant stainless steel tub that has fold out stairs and a rubber mat in the bottom of the tub.  There’s also a great sprayer with hot and cold water and the most crucial thing – a short lead that keeps the dog from wiggling around.  I bring my own shampoo, but use their set-up including clean towels.  One of the best things is the fact that THEY clean up!

Neither of my dogs need any coaxing to get into the tub.  One day when I was setting up .. you know, putting my purse up on the table, getting the apron on, getting the towels lined up, I turned around, and both of my mutts are sitting in the tub.  They both climbed up the ramp, and were waiting for their bath!

Being that both of my dogs are wash & wear labradors, I tend to hose them off more often then give them a full blown bath which they get about twice a year.  But when they do get bathed, its not that big of a deal anymore.

First off – this is not a commercial and no one is paying me to write this. I just want to share a product that my dogs are in love with.

I’ve mentioned before that Clover is a real chewer. I mean, after all, she’s eaten half of a house over the last seven years. When she was a puppy, I was constantly shoving a rawhide bone at her. Unfortunately, the rawhides caused havoc with her constitution, and then caused severe skin issues around the mouth and chin area.

I have bought Nylabones (doesn’t like them too much, not enough flavor?), raw bones the size of a cow (too messy), Booda Bones (like ‘em but they don’t last long and they’re expensive).

The nice lady at the pet store where I shop introduced me to Sam’s Yams. Ingredients: Dehydrated Sweet Potato. That’s it. No artificial anything. Just sweet potatoes. Nice orange color, they have a good veggie smell to them, and my dogs love them. And, one of the best things is that they don’t cause any stomach upset, just orange colored poop.

Cosmo likes to play with his food. He flips Sam’s Yams up in the air, catches it, runs around the living room, and after a few minutes will settle down to munch. He keeps an eye out for Clover, because even though she would never swoop down on him and steal his chewie, he doesn’t want to take a chance. Clover gets to business immediately – munch, munch, munch, done!

Sam’s Yams by Front Porch Pets, Inc. You heard it here first or second? or third? or am I late to the dance again? (I thought I would add, these are not Sam’s as in Sam’s Club or Wal-Mart. Click on the link for more info.)

I know that a lot of dogs are scared spitless by a visit to the veterinarian, but my two dogs actually like visiting the vets. Go figure.

The two latests visits to the vets, one for Clover and one for Cosmo, = way more than my car payment, five times the amount MY doctor charges for an office visit, and one-third the amount of my mortgage payment. Here’s a piece of advice to all of you out there raising children and hoping that that little cutie will grow up to be a brain surgeon or cardiologist: think dogs and cats and hamsters! Think Veterinarian!

I like the vet practice that I use: its very nearby, the techs and assistants are very nice and helpful, the doctors are all wonderful and competent, and my dogs like visiting them A LOT. If I went back to Day One and added up the money that I’ve spent on vet bills since 2001 when Clover came to live with me, and then more recently when Cosmo moved in, I would faint.

Having a sick dog is a lot like having a sick baby – neither can tell you where it hurts, how bad it hurts, or what the hell they ate to make them that sick. You would think that with the money you’re paying at the vets, that they would be able to figure that out pretty darn quick. Wave some veterinarian magic wand and pronounce, “Don’t worry. Its just a pair of socks. Some castor oil should fix the problem.”

Clover’s latest issues (consistent panting, fast heart beat, watery nose, and some twitching) turned out to be constipation that seems to have been sorted out with an increase of fiber in her diet. Vets: $365, Clover – More Fiber. Vets: Seizures? Tests? MRI? Epilepsy?, Clover: Mucilex and a food change.  (I actually figured this one out myself after noticing that the symptoms stopped after a walk and a poop.  I just hope that I’m right and we can move on to the next issue whatever/whenever.)

Cosmo’s trip to the vet this week – ear infection. $165. Can’t fix that with Mucilex, but I gave him some anyway. Cosmo is such a good patient. When I take out the ear wash and medicine. He will follow me to the chair and put his head in my lap. He never complains.

Whenever we go to the vets, Cosmo is always trying to escape through the door that leads to the “back rooms.” I’ve never figured that one out, except that he must know where they stash the dog treats, because if it were me I would have bad memories of visiting there one winter day intact, and coming out missing a couple of things.

Clover loves the vets because they love her. She can’t get enough attention, and every tech in the place will be slipping her a biscuit/treat from the minute she walks in the door. I’ve had to ask them to not feed her while we’re there .. she’s on a diet!

Speaking of which, both Clover and Cosmo, upon entering the vets offices, head straight for the large scale so they can get weighed-in. They promptly sit down and wait for the announcement which is written into their record by the desk clerk. Cosmo is down 4 pounds to 74, Clover is steady at 75.

One thing that I’m very proud of. My dogs have never started a fight at the vets, they’ve never pissed on the floor or anything else (Clover did throw up a couple of times during one visit), and they’ve never snapped at or bit anyone at the Veterinarians office, no matter what they were trying to stick in their ears or up their butts.

‘Nuff Said.

.

It’s fun!
It smells good.
It’s exercise.
It gives a lonely dog something to do.
It makes a nice cool hole where the dog can lie.
Tunneling to make an escape under a fence.
The dog hears something down there and is going to dig until he finds it.
Breed instinct.

Cosmo was never been a big digger, just the occasional superficial attempt to make a hole — just because. Clover, on the other hand, was never a big digger until she met my parents’ dog, and now if left alone in the yard for “too long” she will start her attempt to turn the yard into something akin to the surface of the moon. Clover used to dig in order to remove something: a tree, a rose bush, a flower or weed. Now, if given the chance, she will dig just because she can. Note to my mom: Clover was NOT being spiteful, she was just having some fun.

One of our dogs from long ago, Kelly, dug halfway to China once. There is a photo somewhere of the hole about 3′ x 2′ and so deep that the only thing visible was the tip of Kelly’s tail sticking out of the hole. Kelly liked to dig more than any other dog I have ever known. From the same era, Kelly’s sister, Casey liked to dig, but with a purpose! She was after moles or voles or anything that was beneath her feet. I still shudder at the thought of her little (dead) presents.

I do have another theory. Clover and Cosmo are looking for the Nylabone that Casey and Kelly buried out in the backyard about 15 years ago. Its out there, pups. Go find it!

I don’t think I have ever met a dog that didn’t like taking a ride in a car. Even the ones that get car sick still like to jump into the back seat and go cruising. Let’s go! Wanna go for a ride in the car? These phrases have the ability to make my dogs jump around like idiots because they know that it means a trip in the car. (PS – that dog in the picture isn’t mine. I don’t let my two hang out the window. I’d be afraid that they might fall out which is exactly what happened to my friend Rob’s dog Oscar).

Both Clover and Cosmo are good travelers. They enjoy being in the car for short trips, and tolerate the longer trips because of the reward at the end which is usually my parent’s home in Florida. Clover has been across the Irish Sea on a ferry a couple of times, and has been party to many road trips in Ireland, Wales, England and Scotland. She has traveled the route between Florida and Virginia so many times, I’ve lost count.

Cosmo likes riding in the car; however, he is like the child in the backseat asking “Are we there yet?” Coz will put his head on my left shoulder and sigh in my ear a few times every hour during a long trip. For the first few trips south, Coz was crated in the back of the SUV so I could keep him contained and safe. As he became used to car travel, I shoved him into the backseat with Clover where they co-exist fairly well in a tight space.

I installed one of those soft mesh barriers that go from door to door behind the front seats. It is a wonderful thing and it saved my life once, I’m sure of it. On a trip to Florida two years ago, I was getting off of I-95 to fill up the gas tank, and ran over the rumble strips on the right-hand side of the exit ramp. Cosmo, who was sound asleep at the time, woke up and launched himself into the front seat, most likely to save me from whatever had just attacked the car. He got caught in the net — kind of twisted up in it actually. I am positive if that barrier had not been there, Coz would have hurt himself and/or me in his zeal to protect us from the invisible Rumble Strip Monsters.

Ok. Admit it, right here, right now. You have given a dog a teaspoon of peanut butter just to watch them lick their teeth, smack their lips, flap their tongue back and forth trying to get every last bit of peanut butter stuck to the roof of their mouth, all the while laughing at the silly spectacle.

In my house, it works this way: I have two jars of peanut butter. One for me, and one for the dogs. I like Jif smooth peanut butter (on bread with strawberry jam). Clover and Cosmo get Organic Low-Fat Natural Peanut Butter. Mine? $3.49/jar. Theirs? $6.89/jar.

I take a butter knife and scoop some PB out of the jar and put it in Kongs for the two mutts. Clover will grab the Kong and run like hell to hide from Cosmo because he is always very interested in what she has and in taking it away from her. I read somewhere recently about putting the PB in the Kong and then freezing it. Wouldn’t work with Clover and Cosmo because they have PBJO (Peanut Butter Jar Opening) Radar. As soon as they hear the scraping as I turn the cap off of the jar, they are at my side, noses in the air, tails wagging, and in Cosmo’s case, there’s a little bit of dancing about going on, too.

Thank goodness my dogs don’t have peanut allergies because there really is no substitute. If you want a real laugh, put the PB on some white bread … NOT that I’ve ever done THAT.

Got your attention, didn’t I? Ok. Maybe they don’t exactly “like” barfing, but they sure know how to do it well.

When Clover was a puppy, she had a very “iffy” constitution. She had the barfing thing down like it was a sport. She’s not as queasy these days, but I must remember “no matter how much she begs, she cannot have table scraps,” as scraps seem to be one of the things that set her delicate stomach off.

Cosmo hardly ever barfs. But, when he does, its usually because he is very very excited, or very very sick. At my parent’s 56th anniversary party this past April, the three dogs (my two and parent’s one) were kept to the yard and the patio so they woudln’t knock all of the old folks over. Cosmo is infatuated with my Aunt Pat, and whenever she is nearby, Coz wants to sit next to her with his head in her lap.

I decided to let Cosmo in the house for a little socialization and so he could greet Aunt Pat. He was so excited to be allowed into the inner sanctum, that he ran into the family room, stopped, looked around at everyone and performed his own version of Linda Blair in the Excorcist. Right there in front of everyone. Thanks Coz.

I had the flu a few years ago and spent a bit of time worshiping the porcelain throne. I sat on the floor, propped up by Clover on one side, and Cosmo on the other. What good dogs. Now, if I could only get them to worship the throne when they’re sick.

Note to self: Call and make appointment with Stanley Steamer.

Fetch is a game usually played with a dog. An object, such as a stick or ball, is thrown a moderate distance away from the animal, and it is the animal’s objective to grab and retrieve it. Many times, the owner of the animal will say “Fetch” to the animal before or after throwing the object.

Well. Sure. That’s the way its supposed to be. The person throws something and the dog runs after it and brings it back to the person. If you’re lucky, the dog will even drop it at your feet. Some dogs like to do this over and over and over again. Just ask my sister. She had a English Springer Spaniel by the name of Riley once. Riley was a little “off” in his mental capacity, but he did like to play fetch. On one occasion, my sister threw the ball for the dog 198 times in one session. If her pitching arm didn’t conk out on her, who knows how long that dog would have run back and forth for that treasured yellow tennis ball.

Clover really likes to do a water retrieve. Throw a stick or ball or bumper into a body of water, and she’s on it. This dog has chased down an errant frisbee in the Irish Sea and in Loch Lomond in Scotland. (She’s well-traveled.) But on land? It all depends on how she’s feeling at the moment. She prefers to chase a soccer ball and if she can get a hold of it, she’ll fetch that and bring it back. She had a favorite ball for fetch that a another dog at the dog park decided he liked a lot and took it home with him. She hasn’t been the same since.

Cosmo’s training has been spotty. My bad. He’s such a well-behaved dog, having absorbed a lot of his good behavior through osmosis from being around Clover. (Only the good things, thankfully.) He will chase pretty much anything you throw mostly because he likes to run, not that he likes to fetch and retrieve. The biggest problem with Coz is that he won’t bring the thrown item back!

Last year, we spent a week at a super place in North Carolina with a cabin on a lake. Cosmo would only go so far with the fetch/retrieve in the water. Mostly, he would wait for Clover to swim out, retrieve the ball/bumper/stick and when she got back to the edge of the pond, where Cosmo lay in wait for her, he would pounce on her, knock her under the water, wait for the item to pop to the surface. At that point he would grab the item, jump out of the pond, and run towards me as if he was going to return it to me, but most often he ran off into the field hoping someone would chase him.

Little thief.

Per Wikipedia:

Tug of war, tug o’ war, or tug war, also known as rope pulling, is a sport that directly puts two teams against each other in a test of strength.

The term may be used as a simile to describe a demonstration of brute strength by two opposing groups, such as a rivalry between two departments of a company. Often, there is a third party who is considered the “rope” in the tug o’ war.

So, the “dog experts” say, tug of war is good. Its a fun way to play and interact with your dog. And, besides, almost all dogs like to play tug. (Except Clover, that is.)

The “other dog experts” say playing tug of war with your dog is bad because it causes the dog to get agitated and can cause them to play too rough, or cause aggression or dominance issues.

There are so many experts on so many topics. What the hell did we do before Google?

Around my house, this is how it works:

Cosmo will find a dish towel on the floor or in the laundry pile, or he will dig through the toy box and find the tug of war toy/rope. He will dance around with the toy in his mouth, flip it in the air, jump up and catch it, and run around the living room for a few minutes saying, “Woohoo, look what I have!” He will then approach Clover and try to stuff the toy in her mouth. She will invariably get up and move away, and perhaps go hide out in the closet. On the very rare occasion, she will grab hold of whatever he wants to tug with and they will play tug for a while. When Clover is done with all of Cosmo’s foolishness, he will abandon her, and zero in on me.

This is where tug becomes keep away, and that is a whole ‘nother story!

If someone walked into my house right now, they would think I was a mother of a couple of spoiled toddlers instead of two Labrador Retrievers. The toys are everywhere!

When I went to bed last night, Clover was in her closet, and Cosmo was on the floor next to the bed. When I woke up (thanks Coz for being my early Sunday morning wake-up call), I had two dogs on the bed, a stuffed Coca-Cola Polar Bear, one flamingo Beanie Baby, and one stuffed pink octopus.

When I came downstairs this morning thinking about a pot of coffee, the weather report of thunderstorms later today and the timing of when I need to give Clover her “crazy pill”, I almost tripped on a stuffed snake toy and a tennis ball.

Ok. I admit my dogs have a lot of toys. They are everywhere. Clover, will on occasion, help me pick toys up and put them in the toy box. Cosmo, however, thinks its a game and as soon as I can put the toys away, he is pulling them out again.

I have one question: Who took the toys out in the middle of the night? because when I went to bed, they were safely snuggled in the toy box!

This is a photo of Clover’s oldest existing, still-stuffed, and much loved “Blue Dog” given to her when she was just a puppy by our friend Mary. Blue Dog is the only toy that Clover WILL NOT allow Cosmo to play with. Blue is pretty fragile these days, and I only give it to Clover once and a while to play with. Mostly, he lives in the downstairs closet hidden away from Cosmo.

Dogs are pretty basic animals. A warm and clean place to live, a good relationship with a human to look after, and a bowl or two of good food every day. My two dogs eat a pretty balanced dry food with the occasional goody mixed in. Well, ok, in theory anyway.

Clover and Cosmo are very different in the way they approach their meals. Clover, is the typical always hungry Labrador Retriever – she will eat whatever I give her whenever I give it to her. Cosmo is the finicky one – he eats when he wants and only if he is hungry. You could fill a bowl of food up in the morning and he would only eat what he felt he needed to fuel his day. I cannot, however, do this, because the minute Cosmo relinquishes ownership of the bowl by walking away from it … Clover is all over it.

Clover is always fed first. She gets her bowl on the floor when she stops fussing and sits still for a couple of seconds. Cosmo runs to his spot and sits at attention waiting to inspect his food bowl. He sniffs, he goes in tentatively and takes a mouthful of food out of the bowl and backs up into the dining room where he deposits the food on the floor. He then inspects the food again, sniffs it some more, and at that point makes up his mind if he is hungry enough to go to the bowl for the rest. Clover has finished her bowl by now and circled around through the living room to sneak up behind him and hoover up any loose kibble. If I stop her before she can eat it, she will pace and whine until she can see if he’s a clean-plater or not.

Have you ever noticed that a finicky dog like Cosmo, who prefers low-fat cottage cheese mixed in his morning food, and spits out cooked spinach like he’s being poisoned, will eat grass like he’s a cow? Early this Spring after our morning walk, I was unlocking the front door and looked over and thought how pretty the first little daffodils looked … in the time it took me to unlock the front door and get the dogs back in the house … I looked back at the daffodils to see they were all gone. The culprit? Cosmo. How did I know? The yellow petals were sticking out of his mouth as he smacked his lips.

Everyone knows that chocolate, raisins and onions are very bad for a dog to eat. There are loads of experts out there than can give you a list of stuff to not feed your dog and the reasons why, so I’ll leave you to that on your own. What I do know from experience is that onions are really bad and can cause some serious gastro problems. Ask Clover. I also know that while some dogs cannot tolerate dairy, my two don’t seem to have a problem with it in small quantities. Ask Cosmo – he loves cottage cheese and yogurt mixed with fresh blueberries, but would prefer a rare steak with all of the trimmings. Hmmm. Wouldn’t we all.

Have you ever noticed how easy it is for a dog to fall asleep? They lie down, close their eyes, and within seconds they are sound asleep. A lot of dogs snore worse than some old men I know.

Clover is a very light sleeper, and if I speak to her when she is asleep, she will wag her tail. Come to think of it, Clover wags her tail in her sleep without any prompting from me.

Cosmo is a very sound sleeper to the point of being left behind. It must be very strange for him to wake up in the middle of the night to find that he’s been asleep for hours on the kitchen floor and everyone else has been in bed for hours. Cosmo is also famous for falling asleep sitting up. The first time he did it, he was just a small puppy. He was sitting up, leaning against the sofa, with his head hanging down. Then, all of a sudden, he just crumpled and fell to the floor. Splat! The fall didn’t even wake him.

Do you think dogs dream? I’m pretty sure mine do. Either they are chasing rabbits in their sleep, or they are possessed by some sort of twitching demon. High pitched woofles, tail wagging, feet flailing, and me booting the offending mutt off the bed to do their dreaming where it won’t keep me from my tentative sleep.

There is a famous saying “Let Sleeping Dogs Lie” which is all about leaving things as they are. According to Wikitionary:

let sleeping dogs lie

1. (idiomatic) To leave things as they are; especially, to avoid restarting or rekindling an old argument; to leave disagreements in the past.

   Eventually, they decided it would be best to let sleeping dogs lie and not discuss the matter any further.

Translations

• German: Schlafende Hunde weckt man nicht
• Polish: Nie wywołuj wilka z lasu
• Russian: Кто старое помянет, тому глаз вон

Wouldn’t it be great to be able to sleep like Cosmo? Soundly and without a worry? The occasional dream of successful and friendly pursuits?

I, on the other hand, am on my second week of insomnia. When I finally do get a good sleep, I hope no one wakes me either.