Peony Appreciation Post

 I came into possession of an iphone yesterday, and have of course been making up for lost time by Instagramming everything I see.  Actually that's not entirely true--I have a whole range of photography apps in addition to Instagram.  Because we are at the very beginning of peony season, most of the photos so far are of the blooms in my yard.  Here are a few.  Forgive the hipsterization of the snapshots--I'll get more adept at editing via iphone, just give me time.

I brought some inside, of course.  One of the things I love best about peonies is how easy they are to arrange.  As in, no arrangement is necessary.  Just plop 'em in a vase and let 'em do their thing.  Their thing is always spectacular.

Bonus:  Pups.

They hang out outside my bathroom every morning, taking advantage of the sunny spot.


The iPhone is basically my new camera, replacing the old Sony point-and-shoot which didn't survive the move back from West Virginia.  Here's hoping it brings with it a new era of blogging!  As always, you can also find me on Tumblr and Twitter.

Christmas for the Dogs

I don't have the sort of disposable income that lends itself to showering my dog in gifts, but if I did, let's just be clear: I totally would.  I was tempted to make gift guides for a bunch of folks this year, but most of them read my blog, so I refrained.  My dog, however, cannot read.  Your loss, dog.  So here's what I would buy my perpetually joyful, occasionally anxious, constantly hungry, sleek and pretty black beast (and, to be fair, the rest of the canine parade in this house) for Christmas, if I could:

1. A rawhide bone it would take her more than 20 minutes to devour (bonus for the hilarity which would inevitably ensue when she attempted to carry it triumphantly through the house).
2. A colorful, versatile rope toy which can be tossed (Vista's preference) or tugged (Leilani's forte).
3. The miraculous Thundershirt, to sooth her separation anxiety.
4. A bouquet of Loofa toys, the best plush dog toys on the market (so sayeth the dogs).
5. A Slow 'Em Down pet bowl, to provide a challenge so she'll actually eat her food rather than inhale it.
6. Lots and lots and lots of tennis balls, her absolute favourite toy.
7. A pretty, strong leash to match her collar.

The thing I love about all of these goodies is that they're fun for both of us (well, the leash is mostly for me, but let's pretend).  I've heard great things about the Thundershirt, and something tells me we'll end up with one sooner or later, since we have two dogs of similar height and weight who suffer from very different forms of anxiety (in addition to Vista's sometimes violent separation anxiety, Leilani is a very loud, seemingly vicious anxious barker).  Sadly, my girl's only getting one item on this list this year (hint: it's the thing which will keep her from choking to death on her food), but if Santa brought us bottomless pails of tennis balls and rawhide bones, no one would complain.

How do you celebrate the holiday with your pets?  Our menagerie traditionally get one big bunch of toys to share (read: destroy before the end of Christmas day).  Last year, their cousin dogs gave them each a Loofa toy, which were the biggest hits.  Summer, Devourer of Tissues, mostly steals bits of wrapping paper all day long.

Hovercraft

I was browsing Flickr and I came across this illustration, from a series titled How Could You, by Tatsuro Kuichi.  This is, essentially, a portrait of my dog.  The only difference is the collar.  I call her a hovercraft, because that is what she does: she hovers, she lurks, she frets.  Are you going somewhere?  Where are you taking that box?  ARE WE MOVING AGAIN???

Christmas decorating is tough on dogs.  Apparently.

The other parts of the series are equally sweet (and spot-on like Vista).  I especially love this one:

A Holy War

Last weekend, while I was raking leaves and leaping into them, the dogs were at loose ends.  Everyone was in the yard, but nobody wanted to play!  What kind of world were we living in, anyway?  Who do I talk to about this?  IF I HAD TWO THUMBS AND THE RIGHT TO VOTE I WOULD WRITE MY SENATOR ABOUT THIS.

And then they found the Holy Grail of Sticks.

The Battle of Stick raged for years, dragging on as bleak days became endless, cold nights.

Pax was called just twice, once when they dropped it in some leaves and briefly could not find it, and a second time because, well, even in wartime, butts need to be scratched.

Finally, at long last, a victor emerged:

And so began the process of reconstruction for this poor, war-torn land.

The Roster

Since moving back here in May, I have been unemployed.  The combination of unlimited free time and almost no money has meant that I have spent most of my time in my parents' house (woo yeah adulthood!), primarily cooking, but also making close, almost scientific, observations of my dogs.  Since (I am thrilled to say) that as of tomorrow I will no longer be unemployed, I thought I would take this opportunity to sum up my findings.

Name: Leilani Moose
Breed: Black Lab/Norwegian Elkhound Mix
Age: 4
Status: Alpha
Nicknames: Thing 1, Lani, Lani Moose, Lei-lei, Sweet Girl, Moose-moose, Twitchy Witchy Girl
Favourite Thing: Growling suspiciously at children and small rodents
Nemesis: That Damn Chipmunk
Greatest Fear: That she'll have to spend the rest of her life with these numbskulls
Claim to Fame: Systematically disemboweling stuffed animals and scattering their limbs throughout the house

Name: Vista Pocahontas
Breed: Cocktail of various black dogs and probably also an antelope
Age: 2
Status: Beta
Nicknames: Thing 2, Vizzy, Vishnu, The Crazy One
Favourite Thing: You
Nemesis: "What did Lani say? What? The chipmunk? MINE IS TOTALLY ALSO THE CHIPMUNK"
Greatest Fear: That you will go away and she will never see you again
Claim to Fame: Can leap upwards of 4 feet in a single bound

Name: Summer Tangerine
Breed: Cavalier King Charles Spaniel
Age: 6
Status: Potato

Nicknames: Thing 3, Summer Bummer, The Dumb One, Doofus, The Little One, Little Face

Favourite Thing: Eating tissues

Nemesis: The Cat

Greatest Fear: Storm drains

Claim to Fame: Communicates in a peculiar language consisting of snorts and sneezes

warming my pillow

Every night I come upstairs, turn on my bedroom light, and this is what I find.  This is not my dog.  My dog has given me over for my mom (I don't blame her; I'd probably make the same choice if it came to it), and isn't interested in hanging out with me.  Not that I think this dog (who belongs to my brother) is actually interested in quality time.  Mostly I think she just wants her own bed.

It's okay, Dog.  I hear ya.

last minutes with oden

I'm not going to lie, this short film, about a man saying goodbye to his beloved dog, will make you cry.  Especially if you've ever had to say goodbye to a pet of your own.  It all but slayed me, and I hate crying.  But you should watch it, because it's a beautiful film, and when you finish wiping your tears away, you will feel so good.

And then you'll go out and adopt a three-legged dog.

via Time

puppy love

How adorable is this hearth, with its painted puppy andirons?  It's from the home of Sara Hicks Malone in Nashville.  I LOVE that she faced them towards each other--since they're a two lab family, it's perfect!  Also great: her yellow doors.

lani's morning

Inspired by Buster, Lani decided she wanted to share her day with you.

This is me, Leilani.  This is my bed.  It's in Mom's* room.  This is where I sleep at night.

This is also my bed.  I sleep here in the mornings and sometimes at night, too.  I let Mom share it.  Next to the bed is my window.  It helps me guard the house very well.  I am a good guard dog.

This is my chair.  These windows also help me guard the house.  I am usually here.  Mom sits at the desk, and Summer hides underneath.  Summer is my sister, kind of.  She's a little silly.

Sometimes Sam uses my chair.  He is not a guard dog like me, but he likes to watch the birds.  Sometimes we watch birds together.  Sam is my brother, kind of.  He is the best cat ever.

This is really Sam's chair.  Actually, all the chairs are mine, but I don't like this one.  So I let Sam use it.

This is me with Mom.  She asked for my help on her blog, so I am helping.  My other mom is here, too, also helping.

These are things I do in the morning, usually.  I hope your day is happy.


*Lani is actually my brother's dog, but for the sake of simplicity she calls me "Mom"

dog milk

Have I talked about Dog Milk yet?  I don't think I have.  It is the ultimate blog for the modern dog owner who doesn't necessarily want their home to resemble a kennel.  They've got stuff for people, and also stuff for dogs.  Take for example, the Humunga Stache Dog Toy.  Fun for dogs, hilarious for people!

If you've ever been to our house, then you've probably jumped a few baby gates.  We have them for a few reasons, but let's just say that they're necessary.  This is such a stylish alternative (although, unfortunately, not a cheap one).  Then again, if you're like us and a gate is something that sees constant use, it would probably be worth it.

fetching tags

I'm not a fan of dressing my dog up in costumes (a ribbon 'round the neck's about as fancy as I get), but that doesn't mean my dogs can't look snazzy!  I love these tags by Fetching Tags.  They are handmade, durable, and the makers donate tags to local shelters for the animals to wear, in addition to a portion of proceeds.  Plus, you have the option of coming up with a tagline for your pet, which I love.

Leilani might be coming with me to West Virginia, for a part of my year there at least, and she'll need a tag with my phone number of it if she does.  Okay, and maybe I already have a tagline in mind.

dogs as typefaces

Typography + dogs = perfection.  Love it.

via Dog Milk

cleverer than she looks

This is Summer, or, as she is affectionately called, "the dumb one."  Summer fears many things: balloons, the cat, your feet, boxes of crackers, leaves blowing in the wind.  However, the things she fears above all else are storm drains.

It's odd, too.  The other stuff she's feared most of her life, but the storm drain thing is recent.  Like, she finally got around to reading It or something.  As soon as she spots a storm drain, she turns and runs in the opposite direction.  Which can be problematic if you're walking more than one dog.  However, I've spent the last few months coaching her, and now she knows to get up on the curb before we reach the storm drain, that way she'll walk over it, which is not scary at all.  In fact, she gets this little spring in her step, as if she knows she's defeated something and darn if it doesn't feel good. 

Right now, we have a few inches of snow on the ground, with more falling as I type.  All of the storm drains are covered by the snow the plows pushed to the curb, so I didn't think about them at all as I set out to walk the dogs this afternoon.  Summer, however, is evidently cleverer than she looks.  She knows those storm drains are there, even if she can't see them.  So, as we approached the first storm drain on our walk, she plowed into the snow on the side of the road.  Summer is not a likes-to-get-her-feet-week kind of dog, so this was odd, to say the least.

"What are you doing, dummy?"  I asked her, tugging her back towards me. Summer obediently came.  We got closer to the storm drain.  Next thing I knew, my left arm was yanked behind my back, and Summer, in her desperation to GETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAY had pulled out of her collar.

And that's why I spent 5 minutes of my life chasing a terrified little dog through the neighborhood.

confessions

I've recently started reading the blog Confessions of a Pioneer Woman.  It's not that I was unaware of it (I stumbled across her account of how she became the PW some months ago and mistakenly attempted to read it in one sitting. If you like love stories, set aside a day or so for this one--it's wonderful), I'd just never subscribed.  There are many things to love about PW.  There's the fantastic photography, delicious recipes, hilarious accounts of life on the farm, but there's pretty much only one reason I subscribe.

I read it for Charlie.

Just look at that face.  I admit it, I have a soft spot for Bassets.  It's roughly the size of my torso.  I have been known to stop dead in my tracks (which is problematic, especially if I'm driving at the time) upon spotting one, uttering something akin to "Olookitthebassetomygoodnesslookitthatfaceolord."  We had a Basset for just over a decade.  She was the hard-headedest, single-mindedest, loud-snoringest dog you'd ever meet, and sly as a fox when it came to seeking vengeance upon us, her beloved family.  She was a diva, and a sweetheart, and damn if there's a day that goes by that I don't miss that dog.  Someday I will have another Basset, you'll see.  In the meantime, there's Charlie.

gimme, day 28

dog lover edition

clockwise from top left:

treat canister from Harry Barker, rope leash from Found My Animal, red argyle collar from Big Dog Boutique, squirrel hanging feeder from these creatures, stripe dog bed from Harry Barker

I do not come from a family that buys gifts for dogs at Christmas.  Yes, they have stockings, but those get filled with treats we already have and maybe a big rawhide bone.  Our dogs get treated at Christmas to having the people they love down on the floor with them and all the paper they could possibly rip up.  When you buy pet gifts, you're basically buying them for the owners.  Which is totally a-ok with me!

fiddler

Do you remember a while back when I mentioned my aunt and I were going to the SPCA to look for another dog? Well, this is he. Meet Fiddler, everyone. After the sand fiddler crab, not the dude on the roof. Fiddler is about the size of a sheltie, and we think he's got some border collie in him, but beyond that, he's a mystery. A sweet-tempered, high-energy mystery. I'm going to miss this guy when I move back home!

heartland

From Strange Maps...LOVE this print! As usual, Strange Maps is wonderfully informative, giving all sorts of information about the term "heartland."

On a different note, our 4 dog household went down to 3 this past weekend, when we lost our resident Methuselah, Curtis. He'd had two knee replacements, plus a third leg was swollen for no discernable reason, and on Friday his legs finally gave out. We had to carry him to the car Saturday, which was not an easy feat. I love Rottweilers, but MAN they are big! Anyway, I never thought I'd say this, but after living with 4 dogs for nearly two months, the house seems so quiet with just 3! We're heading to a local shelter this afternoon, on the look-out for another Methuselah who might need a home.

fluffy little stalker

Living in someone else's home for an extended period of time comes with its own set of hurdles, but in my case the biggest hurdle has a name, and it is Tripp. My aunt, with whom I'm living this summer, has 4 dogs, and of these canine cousins, Tripp is #3. He's a Tibetan Spaniel. Now, Tripp doesn't know you, but he doesn't like you. He finds you (yes, you) suspicious, and will not hesitate to let you know it, hoo boy. A friend came to visit me and the poor girl couldn't take a step without Tripp barking at her. One morning, he woke us up barking at my closed bedroom door. Internet, I am not making this up. This is a very smart, very suspicious dog.

Tripp can count on one paw the number of people he trusts, and fortunately for my ability to walk through the house, I'm one of them. Unfortunately, Tripp doesn't just trust me, or even just like me. He is obsessed with me. He's my very own little stalker! When I wake up in the morning, Tripp will often be lying in the hall staring at my door. If he isn't there, I can guarantee that he will be as soon as he hears the shower. But, really, that's not so bad. However, about a month ago, he started staging grand explorations through my laundry. My aunt said that he would do that with hers, looking for stray treats perhaps left in the pockets of discarded trousers. But treats are not what Tripp wants in my laundry. No, he wants my underwear. He finds it, and if I don't catch him in the act, he absconds with it. I am the only person he does this to.

There have been other incidents, but I will do you a favor and not go into detail. As a result, I have become convinced that somewhere in the house there is a dark corner plastered with candid photos of me, taken by Tripp with some kind of miniature zoom lens, perhaps from his vantage point underneath my door. I will not be surprised if I return home in September with some kind of complex.