Three Dogs Blog

So the dogs rather liked Christmas.  Partly because we went and took them to the park (here they are in the picture at Discovery Park in Seattle).  In the picture, Nixie is bathing Toni’s face and admiring the new hat Toni got for Christmas.

The dogs also got to snuggle up with us first thing this morning (like at midnight through a few minutes past two in the morning) and watch the new Star Trek on DVD at the household teenager’s request.  Nothing like being geek dogs.  Although Nix had trouble keeping her eyes open.

The favored new toys are a large and already no-longer-white stuffed sheep, and some chew toys that look pretty alien.   

Dogs are very simple beings.  I suspect that what they liked best of all was that we were home all day Christmas Eve, and that when we went out today they got to come with us. 

They made the day better for all.  This morning the household teenager grumbled about having to get up and called all three dogs to drape themselves over her on the couch.

Anyway, we want to wish anyone silly enough to like reading about us and the dogs a merry whatever-you-celebrate and a happy day.

 — Love, Brenda Toni KT Nix, Sasha, and the Crickster

This is the first time I’ve spent a whole day at flyball.  Impressions?

Much barking.  Mostly joyous barking, but all manner from time to time – anxious and angry and scared barking mixed in with much happy barking.  I haven’t explained this well enough.  Imagine you are in a big concrete barn with a tall roof.  There are at least two hundred dogs in this big building and about the same number of people.  There is no silence.  Ever.

My job was to collect balls. The handlers teach the dogs to love balls.  Then they carefully control where on the course the balls are allowed to be, so the dogs go there.  Balls in the wrong place mean the dogs go to the wrong place, too.  So the ball shagger (me) collects stray balls that are not where they are supposed to be.

It’s harder than it looks – you have to avoid getting hit by racing dogs, racing humans, or stray balls.  Your have about 5 seconds after each dog runs to get the ball they drop out of the way of the next dog.   There were seven-year-olds doing it quite well.  I did it well, but not as well as the seven-year-olds. 

I suspect they had more practice than me.

Our dogs did great – Cricket is still learning and the most important thing for her is to be there in the barks and chirps and whistles and chaos.  She managed to come when called more than once in the midst of all that.  Sasha ran one heat of each race nearly flawlessly.  Our teams did great – the fast team is new in their division and they beat their old times and came in third for the day.

There is a small pile of pictures on my picasa web album.  I was hoping for better pictures, but I was busy shagging balls and taking video of box-turns. 

Much barking.

After all, if the teenager gets bored, she might come in and do your hair in just the right way.

Even the border collie is rolling her eyes.

Nix is the dog queen of the workshop.  She now knows many new people and has been the subject of many stories.  This us on the beach with h with other writers.

I am down in Lincoln City, Oregon, working at getting more emotion in my writing.  Perhaps that’s why I like this picture of Nix looking so pensive.

She has been a pleasure to have here, good for company no matter what mood I’ve been in.

As you can see, we have had time to walk the beach.

The Crickster was spayed on Wed, May 20th.  Her growth plates are closed but she suffers from two serious ailments – CAL compounded with FAAF.  There is no known treatment and I fear the worst.  Okay – CAL = Cute as Hell and FAAF = Fit as a Fiddle.  She learned after the first night that if she left her belly alone she wouldn’t have to be in the dreaded “Cone”.  She forgot after 24 hours that she had surgery.  Here she is five days out and begging to go back to the AFrame.  Which has been a regular whine since day two.  I resisted setting up the jumps and tunnel in the good weather knowing what the result would be.  A few more days!  In the meantime we’re training on boring things like circle work and control and taking nice walks – all of which are never enough.  The weather is glorious though and much weeding is being accomplished – in spite of the two border collies who insist their assistance is required.

There are some pretty strict criteria to get to sleep with the moms.  First, the dog has to be absolutely crate trained and house trained.  Second, the pup must be absolutely trustworthy.  This varies by dog.  Everydog gets night-night snuggles after going night-night potty and being admitted into the inner sanctum.  Pups who have not yet achieved absolute trust status get scooped up and moved to their crates before the lights go out.  It’s a big deal to the pup to get to sleep in the big bed with everybody else!  Little Crick would race up the stairs and dive into the dog bed on the floor at the end of the bed, curl into a ball, and just SQUEEZE her eyes tight.  You could hear her thinking, “oh please oh please don’t notice me so I can sleep outside of my crate with everybody else”.  She had some of the stiffest criteria – must be trusted not to consume the roll of toilet paper in the bathroom, must be trusted not to open the dresser drawers and pull out socks and eat them, must be trusted not to sneak into the closet and steal shoes, must be trusted, trusted, tusted.  It is a right of passage.  Each pup comes of age at a different chronology.  Generally between 9 months and a year.  They are all there now and each has her own spot and preferences.  Which will all change as the weather warms – then we’ll be tiptoeing across the floor trying not to step on sprawled bodies in the middle of the night!