Archives for April 2010

Now that I have your attention


This is how you Escape Your Leashed Life

Stupid Leash!

Step 1: Lay around looking sad.

Step 2: Cry/howl if you have to

(Thanks Dex, but we already have that visual covered)

Step 3: Convince the Food Lady that you should go swimming

Agh!  Mooooom!  She’s shaking on me again!

Step 4: Roll around in the grass, since you’re a poor farm dog, and don’t have a towel

Step 5: Shake off the grass, dirt and slugs

Step 6: Shake right out of the leash, and you’re home free!

Hey!  Put that leash back on right now!!  The Food Lady said so!  Do as you’re told!

Yeah, umm, TWoo? It’s not like you listen to me either.

Yeah but you looooove me. *suckupsucksupsuckup*

I lost my temper with TWooie today.  The GPS works very well, but it doesn’t actually physically STOP him from running away and after an hour plus out in the back fields, I was ready to go home. TWoo was not, so he gave me the slip.  I spent half an hour tracking him through the swamp and when he finally came out the other end I was tired, wet and *pissed*.  I dragged him back to the house with Tweed’s leash, cussed him out, tied him to the porch and left him outside.

It was totally uncalled for.  I know he’s going to run when it’s time to go back home, so it’s my own fault for not leashing him up before he did.

I do not deserve The TWoo :(

And me!  You don’t deserve me!

Oh HAI!  HI HI!!  Remember me?

Hellooooo!  I’m a good dog!

That’s my girl.  Next weekend she is running her first Masters Level trial!  It’s very exciting.

But I miss running Tweed.  On Tuesday, we’re going for x-rays to see if we can’t figure out what’s wrong with his leg.

I could be your agility partner!  See!?!

Except I choose to ignore you.

Hey Woo, let’s blow this pop-stand.

It’s more fun on the other side of the river, where the Food Lady can’t catch us.

Ahhh, this is fantastic.

All I have to do, is be only half as bad as TWoo and suddenly, I’m Good Dog Woo!

How do I get in on this Bad Boy action?

Pssst … Tweed … for 10 cookies I’ll distract her so you can slip the leash and pull a runner …

All Life Has Value

Recently the Vancouver Foundation produced a multi-media presentation to generate donations for their many philanthropic endeavors; the presentation focused on the senior animal sanctuary you all have heard me talk about so much – SAINTS.

The Vancouver Foundation gives grants to SAINTS to help with the immense task of keeping their sanctuary afloat.  I was at SAINTS earlier this week and Carol tells me they are $25,000.00 in the red at the moment.  Times are hard, and money is in short supply.  They do amazing amounts of fundraising, but of course it’s never enough.

When the Vancouver Foundation approached SAINTS about putting together this presentation for their donors and the media, they said they’d hire a photographer to get the photographs they needed. Carol kindly told them no need – I’d been out numerous times to take photos and they could purchase mine if they liked them.

They did!  The Vancouver Foundation purchased several of my photos for their multimedia presentation (there are some other photos in there that are not mine but the bulk of them are), and also for an article in their annual magazine that will be distributed to 80,000 homes this Fall along with the Vancouver Sun Newspaper, and a couple more photographs for advertising purposes as well.  Their business helps keep the wolf from my door for a little while longer, but more importantly, we all really hope their efforts help SAINTS move into the black some time soon.

Please share this video on your blogs, on Facebook, on message boards and with your friends.

Let’s get SAINTS out of debt and back to the so very important business of giving value to the lives of senior animals that other people forgot about.

Wherefor art thou TWoo?

I *may* have mentioned this before, but Wootie and TWooie are like one dog, same dog.

If ever anyone has doubted their relativity, all they’d need to do is watch them WooTWoo in action and their doubts will be erased.

They have the same feet, the same tail and pants, the same mannerisms and carriage, and lately, the same Very Bad Habits.

TWooie’s newest bad habit is to pretend he does not hear his recall.  Sound familiar?  It looks like this:

I am standing 20 feet from you, and I am wagging my tail, but I’m not looking at you, nor am I heading in your direction.

Moreover, when I start walking him down to remind him that he should come when The Food Lady calls him, he waits until I am just out a smidge of grabbing distance, goes into a play bow, and then takes off!!

Is this a genetic trait?  Holy cow, it’s exactly the same move that Wootie pulls on me!  Even worse, I have exactly the same reaction – I LAUGH.  I can’t help it.  The WooTWoo family tickles my funny bone something fierce.  No wonder I can’t train either of them to do anything.

But the Really Really Bad Thing Behaviour that TWooie has started to pull is a move that Wootie has busted out in the past as well.  You may remember it as RUNNING AWAY FROM HOME whilst walking on the property, and scaring the bejesus out of Food Lady.  This behaviour makes me cry and panic and get mad all jumbleduptogether like that.

We were strolling around the acreage yesterday, meandering through the blueberry fields and slogging along the riverside.  Then I realized that I *really needed to pee* so we hotfooted it back in the direction of the homestead. As we headed back toward home, Piper scared up an heron.  Piper, for reasons that remain known only to her, HATES herons with a passion and she took off in one direction – coincidentally, Wootie discovered a rabbit and went in another with TWoo in hot pursuit.  Amongst all the confusion and flying dogs (and the fast, knees together powerwalking I was doing) we made it back to the house where I solved at least one of my immediate problems.  The next was to go back outside and stomp my feet on the porch and demand that Wootie Come Here Right Now as he didn’t make it through the door with us.  Then I went to sit down and realized we were short one TWoo.

TWooie tends to panic when left outside – when I invite the dogs in one at a time to get their paws wiped, TWooie can’t be last or he does laps around the outside of the house barking in a mad panic, trying to find an alternate way inside.  So I wasn’t immediately worried – I figured he was probably on the other side of the house.  When calling did not make him appear, I went and looked for him, and found nothing at all resembling a TWooie.

Long story short, I had to suit up again and take all the dogs and wander the acreage for nearly an HOUR looking for the TWoo.  We did the whole pastures, blueberry fields, river walk *again* and still nothing.  It was only when I got back home to call some people to get a search party together that I found TWooie playbowing at me from the porch.

I don’t need this kind of stress!  Again!!  I know from experience that when members of the WooTWoo clan discover the joys of running off after their hunty-little noses, it just gets worse from here.

But then I remembered my secret weapon.

A couple of months ago my friend Alaska sent me a gift in the mail.

It was a present to curb the wayward habits of Mr. Woo, but upon its arrival, Wootie curbed his own habits and became a model canine citizen – or at least, he stopped running away from home.  Maybe he is psychic, or perhaps he just wanted to pass the torch to his brother.  Either way, the box has remained unopened, because I had no need to put the contents to work.  But today, I opened the box.

Mwa ha ha ha.  Take that, TWooie.

I’m suspicious.

And so you should be!!


This, my friends, is a GPS for dogs.  All I need to do is fit the collar on the TWoo, carry the little handheld doohicky with me on our walks, and I can find the little meatball no matter where he goes.

See the little anti-run-away antenna peeking out there?

I cannot thank Alaska enough.  Twice today on our walk, Twooie vanished into the ether in pursuit of something small and furry.  But no worries – he was very easy to find.

If dogs can register surprise, Twooie’s face was full of it every time I parted a clump of swamp grass, or pokey bushes, pointed the handheld unit at him and screamed “Ah HA!  Found you, Meatball!”

I’d like to go frog hunting right now.

Oh.  You still have the Find Me device.  Damn You.

Ha ha.  Nanner nanner Twooie, you just got pwned!

Poor Tweed, he couldn’t run away even if he wanted to, because he’s still relegated to on-leash walks only.  We are both getting very frustrated with this.  It seems like he’s good during the day, but as the Deramaxx wears off in the evening, the limp comes back something fierce.  It looks like we are off to the vet again, probably for x-rays this time.  Ironically, it’s the not the original leg that is bothering him, but rather the opposite one.  I could kick myself for not resting him more religiously sooner.

You suck.  Still.

It does not help that Piper keeps showing off her four perfectly functioning legs.

She’s being very ungracious about it.

What? *blink*

It looks like Piper’s going to Regionals, since Tweed’s agility future remains up in the air.

Wootie can’t believe his ears.  Although why would he?  He’s never used them for listening before, why start now?

As for TWooie’s future – I know you all want me to keep him.  Even I want to keep him … but I just don’t know.  I am smitten with the little guy, but his dog aggression really cramps my lifestyle.  We haven’t been to a dogpark in ages because I can’t bring the TWoo, it’s just impossible at this point to do that.  We’re lucky that we have all this acreage, but we want to get out there and mingle some.  I can’t even invite people here to walk with us – last week The Boy came by with Hayden and Cooper and Twoo and Coop nearly killed each other.  Twoo’s got some holes in him, but he started it.

If it weren’t for the aggression, and the spats he has with Dexter, he’d be basically perfect.

She said I’m perfect.  That’s because I am.

“Egotistical family genes?”  What on earth does she mean by that?  Why don’t you admire the dashing figure that is me while we mull that over…