I _won’t_ get off your lawn, you grumpy old goat. %$#*&@! you and your mother!
Did he just say what we think he said?
Come back here and fight like a man, you lily livered, yellow bellied hairball!
May as well get the whole community involved.
Le sigh. The good news is it doesn’t even faze me anymore. My dogs chase down coyotes en masse and I don’t even blink. I must be fully assimilated into Life In The Stix now. Ironically, the two biggest dogs in the house are the ones that don’t bother with the coyotes – they just watch all the Littles go apeshit and stand at my knee. I am pretty sure TWooie thinks they are dogs (and therefore must DIE) and Piper just finds them incredibly offensive, right up there with herons. She will systematically scour the property for coyote poop so she can pee on it.
More good news – when she pees on it, TWooie no longer wants to eat it (*gag*).
Still more good news: today I took Tweed to a CERF clinic held at the Abbotsford Trade-Ex. There’s some huge dog show event out there this weekend I guess (I tend to avoid show dog people like the plague, as they frighten and confuse me) and Dr. Lewis was there testing eyes. $45 at a clinic is a lot cheaper than $60 at my vet for a referral to the Opthamology Clinic that costs a kazillion dollars, so I signed him up.
Obviously, I don’t need Tweed CERFed for anything, but over the last year or so we’ve been noticing some disturbing things about my red man. Not too long ago, he walked face first into my stove – you may be familiar with it. It’s a big white appliance, hasn’t budged an inch since I moved here (what can I say? My “clean house” obsession only extend as far as surfaces one can see. I recommend you NEVER try to crawl under my bed, for example). Also, he ran face first into the side of a couple of tunnels at outdoor trials this year, and has been refusing tunnels in class from time to time. I was getting pretty worried about his eyesight.
So I took him to Dr. Lewis today, who declared his sight just fine. That’s super good news. The bad news is that some of the face-first-into-stove business could be attributed to a loss of cognitive function :( And he does have something called Iris Atrophy, which means his irises are degenerating, particularly the right one. You can see here how the right pupil has failed to contract in the sunlight:
The doc says that it won’t affect his vision, but because his eyes can’t adjust to bright light very well, he may squint and the squinting could cause some of the oopsies he makes on the agility course. I may have to pray for cloudy weather at Regionals next year … when Tweed will be 12. Twelve! I hope he can still run Regionals at 12, that would be super awesome.
And speaking of agility, Springaling has been getting her agility on in class a little bit.
I figure if she’s already there, may as well let her play. I can already see that she is going to be the kind of dog who isn’t going to be very good at gambling, but what the heck. It’s putting her busy little brain to work.
People say border collies have boundless energy, but I think those people have never lived with a terrier. Spring rarely rests … she is always roaming the house, pouncing on poor Dexter and ravaging his ears so he will get up and play with her, pulling toys out of the basket, destuffing them when she does, following the cats around, messing up my bedspread, trying to open the cupboards, standing on the arm of the sofa chewing on my hair … she’s a busy little worker bee. She’s exhausting! If she wasn’t so little, she’d be a real pain in the ass.
So ya’ll seemed to like TWooie’s TWoosday photo. That little heartbreaker with her eyes squeezed all shut comes from a wheelbarrow load of puppies we have at the shelter:
We’re calling them Aussie mixes because they are both fluffy and spotty, but really we have no idea what they are, other than ZOMGSOFREAKINGCUTE. So if you’re in the market for a puppy, come on down to the shelter.
Cuz they want to go home.
Mr. Orange does not approve of puppies.