Homegrown Tomato Trouble

Reacher's Favorite Tomatoes from
Nell's Farmers Market-Alpharetta, Georgia

Most weekends, I head to the local farmers' market. Loving-life Reacher is the dog who usually gets tapped for this outing. He's the most gregarious of my dogs and loves the crowds of adults, small children and pooches who often want to visit.

He's much more interested in all that attention than the watermelons, tomatoes, spinach and other fruits and vegetables for sale. Or so I thought.

Fast-forward to today:
When I returned from running errands, I noticed Panzer licking the carpet. Upon further investigation I discovered a definite wet spot tinged with pink. Hmmm.

Panzer led me to another spot. Also wet. Also pink.

Pee? No.

Blood? No.

A quick scan of the kitchen counter showed the peaches were still present and accounted for. Ditto for the plums. But .... the bag of tomatoes was nowhere in sight.

A more careful scan of the living room revealed a bag, sans tomatoes, under the coffee table.

The culprit? The only dog who has the run of the house while I'm away -- Reacher, aka the "Muffin Man" (see the July 12, 2014 post). Apparently, now the "Tomato Snatcher" as well.

On our next trip to the farmers' market I guess I should buy my big Boxer boy some Big Boys or maybe a Beefsteak or two, of his own.


Other farmers market finds fit for dogs: pumpkin, green beans, sweet potatoes, apples, peanut butter, baby carrots, eggs, blueberries, cantaloupe, watermelon, asparagus and brussel sprouts.

Never give your dog: chocolate, onions, grapes, raisins, yeast dough, artificial sweeteners, macadamia nuts, avocadoes, alcohol, or coffee.

WrestleMania

Always ready to rumble!

When my two sons were younger they were fans of Atlanta-based WCW (World Championship Wrestling) featuring the likes of Hulk Hogan, Diamond Dallas Page and Randy Savage. Little did they know that all these years later, episodes of WrestleMania would be taking place live at our house every day.

Two Germans, Shepherds, that is, are the featured attractions here: "Panzer Man" and "Vega Mama." They wrestle whenever the spirit moves them in whatever place they happen to be -- hallway, kitchen, office, backyard, it really doesn't matter. They are always ready to rumble.

In canine wrestling, there is no ring, no bell, no referee and naturally, NO RULES! The two of them go head to head, jaw to neck and teeth to legs with plenty of growling and gnashing of teeth. Often, one or the other gets slammed against a wall or pinned to the ground. Neither are ever down for the count. It's always a wild, raucous, loud event. But never brutal.

After all, just like professional wrestling, this WrestleMania is not a true sporting contest, simply pure entertainment.

Muffin Man



 

The scene of the crime was recreated.

I wouldn't call myself a baker, but this summer I have whipped up a couple of batches of muffins. My guests and I are not the only ones who ones who've enjoyed them.

 

The dogs weren't offered any, of course. But Reacher decided to help himself. To both batches.

 

If you read the recent "Home Alone" blog, I am proud to report that Reacher continues to be on his best behavior when I'm not around. It's while I'm in the house that he gets into trouble. 

 

Both cases of muffin snatching happened while I was only rooms away. And both times, the bags of muffins were far back on the kitchen counter where I assumed they were safe.

 

After the first incident, I wisely placed the ziplock bag of leftover muffins in the pantry. My big mistake was failing to put them back behind closed doors after enjoying one -- or two -- at breakfast. Instead, I slid them to the rear of the counter and went about my morning routine. 

 

Apparently, that was the opening Reacher was waiting for. I didn't see him devouring his bag of loot as I walked back down the steps. But when he heard me coming, he quickly left the crime scene and peaked around the corner. His guilty face told me all I needed to know.

 

Reacher didn't have time to finish all the muffins. He did have time to create lots of crumbs and leave plenty of his Boxer slobber. I won't be eating any more.

 

I learned two things from this latest incident: Food left on the kitchen counter closest to the backsplash is still only a paw's reach away. And the name Reacher is quite fitting for this muffin man.





Squatter's Rights

A Boxer friend with a tentative left rear hike.

Reacher's a squatter. Meaning that's the way he prefers to pee. Until recently that's been the only way he urinates.

According to veterinarians, adult male dogs who would rather squat rather than lift a leg is fairly common. The experts say hiking the back leg is a learned behavior and may just be a better way for the male dog to mark his territory. It also allows him to spray higher and thus appear bigger to those four-legged passersby who may take a sniff.

But back to Reacher. A couple of  months ago, out of the blue, he paused at a tree trunk and took a hike! It was only a leg lift. No spray. Frankly, he seemed confused by the whole thing.

Since then he occasionally lifts a leg. Or at least tries to. Sometimes he ends up slightly off balance. Other times there's a small hop, skip and a jump involved in an attempt to steady his tripod stance. Whether or not there's any output is another question. 

Occasionally though, everything goes smoothly. Pause, lift a leg, pee and resume walking.

Maybe Reacher will get the hang of it eventually. To paraphrase an old adage, "peeing practice makes perfect."

Oh Deer

The first time I saw deer wandering by the window I was thrilled. Wow! Wildlife in my own backyard! Then I realized my pansies had been deflowered, the hostas chewed down to nubs and other assorted plantings pruned beyond repair. The thrill was gone.

And now that the neighborhood deer are driving my dogs to distraction I like them even less.

Before the fence, the deer would give a flick of their white tails and bound away whenever I walked Vega on the leash. They weren’t taking any chances. For all they knew that large, lunging, barking-her-fool-head-off German Shepherd might soon be in hot pursuit.

They are no longer worried.

That's because the same large, lunging, barking-her-fool-head-off German Shepherd is stuck behind a five-foot fence and is no threat at all. Ditto for Panzer, a younger, crazier version of his German Shepherd mother.

In fact, the deer are so sure of their safety, they seem to be inching closer to the fence - and the dogs - every day. Which just ratchets up the dogs' already out-of-control behavior.

The deer seem to actually enjoy this wildlife game. They might as well be chanting, "Nanny-nanny-boo-boo, you can't get us."

While deer aren't among the world's smartest animals, they definitely know how to yank these dogs' chain.