Getting Older

October 30, 2019 is Cully's adoption date. We will have had her for SEVEN years this October. She will be 9ish-10ish, and depending on which of those she is, she and I will be close to the same age. 

I really wish I could say that nearly seven years of non-stop training has been a resounding success, but, sigh, she is a challenge. I refer to her as my Whack-a-Mole dog. Just as I get one behavior under control, something else pops up or she regresses to something that I thought was long gone. 

Walking her is a lot easier than it used to be. She is only slightly nervous around trash trucks, still doesn’t care for loud motorcycles and will bark at some of them, and will pass by almost all dogs without a second look. Last week I would have said “all dogs” without the “almost” caveat. But then there were two completely unexpected, out-of-the-blue reactions between last week and this. Whack-a-Mole.

Loud popping noises send her into complete panic. Backfiring vehicles will turn her right around on her leash in a mad rush to get home. The weeks leading up to, and after, the 4th of July are a complete nightmare. 

As far as energy level goes, Cully is a lot like me. We walk our two miles in the morning and consider ourselves done for the day. She has spurts of energy when her buddy Lionel brings a chipmunk in through the dog door but otherwise contents herself with moving from one dog bed to another only getting up to bark at random things throughout the day. She is a very relaxed dog—until 4:00 p.m. sharp—at which point she realizes that dinner is only an hour away. The mayhem that ensues for the next hour....

I'm so hungry...

Chillin' on the porch with dad.

 Just a few photos to prove we’re still alive…

Keeping company during a thunderstorm

leaf love

If I fits, I sits

Photo Update

 

Relaxing in the Packaging

Weird headgear

Catching some zzzzs

Cully’s winter quarters

Meditating 

Photo Update

 

Winter Pics

Merry Christmas!

I'm not coming out until winter is over.

FOR ME??!!??

Just a Few Pics

Cat conference.

Excuse me but I'm trying to sleep here.

Just another beautiful flower.

Upward facing dog.

Upward facing cat

Have you finished the floors yet?

No? I'll just wait outside 'till your done.

Four comfy chairs,
she chooses the stone table.

 

Dog Gone

There's nothing worse than that pit-of-the-stomach feeling when you realize your dog has escaped. 

We were having a new furnace installed. I hadn't closed the dog door which lets Cully out back. I figured that all of the workers had their own dogs and would understand that the gate needed to be kept closed. But I hadn't really understood their focus on the job at hand and the amount of back-and-forthness there would be to the AC unit out back. 

I pretty quickly realized that Cully wasn't home. She had been popping in and out the dog door all morning checking on the work that was being done and when the dog flap stopped flapping my subconscious prodded me out of my chair to check on her whereabouts. She was nowhere to be found. 

I asked the furnace guys if they had seen her but they hadn't. They immediately started calling for her, but I knew that would be futile. If she didn't come when I called, she wasn't likely to come to relative strangers, no matter how much she liked them. I grabbed her leash and treats and started off up the cul-de-sac. Since the gate that she escaped through was on that side of the house, I guessed that she'd probably just keep going in that direction. I didn't see her in anyone's front yard and the house next door was fenced but none of the houses after that had enclosed yards. 

She hadn't gone far and she wasn't alone. Lionel, her trusty partner in crime was with her in the backyard just beyond the next door neighbor's. They were together sniffing at something in the grass. When I called her name, Cully lifted her head and took off further into the yard in a spastic run, the kind she does when she's got something that she shouldn't have and knows she shouldn't have. The great escape was now a big game. 

I ran into the yard, pulled the treats from my pocket, and waved them in the air to get the scent blowing in her direction. Cully was running circles, mouth open in a big grin, butt tucked. She ran a few more circles then stopped, nose in air. I called her name and held a treat for her to see. She paused for a few seconds to think it over, ran a few more circles, then came at a dead run towards me stopping long enough for a quick snack and for me to grab her collar.

Cully, prancing, was accompanied back to the house by her self-appointed, furry, yellow bodyguard. Exhausted by their big adventure, the friends slept away the afternoon.

We almost made it...