Rain, Rain, Go Away

On rainy days, the energy that Reacher, Vega and Panzer usually expend on a brisk walk or a good run gets channeled indoors. And while I am perfectly content to curl up with a good book when the skies open up, the dogs don't see things quite the same way.

So, what's a three-dog owner to do when facing a forecast of 100% rain all weekend long? Throw caution - and good sense - to the wind.

That means heading to the dog park with all of them - because no one else is fool enough to be there.

The park is polka-dotted with puddles, not to mention mud, and the rain continues to come down at a steady pace.

Neither Reacher, Vega or Panzer seem to notice. They have the place to themselves and take off at a dead run once the enter the gate. They spend the next hour or so chasing balls and each other.

I am wearing a rain slicker, so even I am enjoying myself, mostly because I am enjoying them. And of course, I am looking forward to a quiet evening with that good book I mentioned earlier.

As time ticks by, the dogs are becoming muddier and muddier, but I prefer to think of it as more and more worn out.

When I deem they are tired enough, I call it a day and herd my three friends back into the van. Once home, I corrall them one by one into the shower for a good scrub. Of course, following that procedure a thorough bathroom scrubbing is required as well as a load of laundry to wash and dry the dog towels.

To those of you who may not think all that work was worth the effort, I say you're all wet.



  

Missin' The Mayhem

Our family's first wedding was just around the corner. Lots of friends and family were coming to town for the big event.

And those folks would be in and out of the house on their way to and from the various activities. So, the decision was made to send my two four-legged boys to camp. In other words, they were agoing to be kennel bound - in both senses of the word.

Vega, being the chill girl of the house was allowed to stay home.

Reacher has had the pleasure (or pain) of being at the kennel only once before. Judging from his body language when I dropped him off, I'd say he remembered. He was acting a little bit nervous. Panzer, unaware of the plan, was his usual hectic self and ready for action.

As I already knew, having just one dog in the house makes feeding time easier. It eliminates the need for tag-team walking. And there's no around-the-house races or wrestling matches to break up because they've gotten out of control. Fewer dogs, means less dog hair and therefore less cleaning. (In fact, while the boys were gone, I didn't pull out the vacuum for two days!)

Admitedly, Reacher and Panzer are the troublemakers in the family. And with those two in the house, it's like the Allstate commercial says - mayhem is everywhere. But what's life without a little mayhem? A little bit lonely, I'd say. 

Mr. Big Mouth

Singing for their supper.

When Vega's puppies were born nearly nine months ago, one thing that surprised me most was how vocal they were. Who knew that those hours-old, tiny black bundles could make that much noise. They were my personal chorus of puppies.

They didn't get any quieter as they grew. In fact, a sleeping mound of pups could erupt into an ear-splitting storm the instant anyone opened the door to their doggie nursery. Judging from the barking, whining and squealing that Panzer does today, I'd say he was the one leading the charge.

Unlike Reacher, he is guard dog extraordinaire. Maybe a bit too extraordinaire. He barks at anything that moves. Dog walkers, joggers, bike riders. Panzer's not particular. It's like he's shouting, "Get outta here! I mean it! Right now!"

At bedtime, if he ends up in his crate rather than in a bedroom with the white noise of the ceiling fan to muffle the night sounds, he raises a ruckus whenever the house creaks, the wind blows or the freezer's ice maker turns out its cubes.

And every time he gets a chance to chase Reacher around the yard, he squeals like a stuck

pig. From excitement, I presume.

There's silent Reacher on one hand and big mouth Panzer on the other. Maybe that's why the two of them get along so well. Opposites attract.

Panzer: "I hear something." Reacher: "Whatever."

The Strong, Silent Type

Looks like a guard dog, acts like a clown.

Some dogs, like the Basenji, don't bark. Others, like Reacher, choose not to. 

For example, a stranger and his dog are walking up our street. Reacher sees them. Does he bark?

No. He watches expectantly and as the pair gets closer, his nub of a tail starts twitching and it's obvioius from the expression on his face that Reacher is hoping the two have come for a play date.

Or consider this: An  unfamiliar truck pulls into the driveway. A repairman gets out, walks up to the door and rings the bell. Reacher sees it all from the window. Does he bark?

Of course not! He waits, hoping I'll let the fellow in and that maybe he's brought a bone.

Boxers are said to be instinctive guardians and naturally protective of home and family. My previous Boxers were just that. In the case of an approaching stranger, either one would have charged down the driveway or to the door, leading with that broad, muscled chest and barking in that deep Boxer voice.

Reacher would rather not.

But what he may be lacking in watchdog qualities he makes up for in exuberance, energy and clownish behavior. Watching him run is a delight. And when he bounces like a spring or shivers with sheer excitement, it's sure to bring a smile to anyone's face.

Reacher is no sentry or lookout or guard dog. He's got Vega and Panzer for that.

In The Mood For A Walk

The scene during our morning walk.

Having a couple of dogs is kind of like having two personal trainers. Ready or not, here we go walking.

 

Reacher and Vega are anxious to hit the road no matter what. Of course, it's good physical exercise for all of us. And it's an activity that puts me in a good mood for the rest of the day. 

 

At this time if year, the view is vibrant green, the honeysuckle is fragrant and wildlife is all around. I am lucky to live in a neighborhood with walking trails, a 53-acre lake and a river that runs alongside it. So, it's easy to stay mostly away from traffic and take a walk with Mother Nature.

 

That means on a typical morning walk, we not only see the usual squirrels and birds, but deer, blue heron and the occasional beaver. There's a resident flock of Canadian geese (that should probably be renamed Southern geese since they never fly back to Canada), that currently includes several families with young goslings. And this morning, I counted nine baby ducklings waddling along after their mallard mother heading for a swim.

 

Reacher and Vega are as interested in seeing the wildlife as I am. Admittedly, they would rather chase it than merely look at it. But they're good sports, mind their manners and keep on walking.

 

The sun was shining bright today. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The humidity, thankfully, was low. The three of us covered a couple of miles. And as my heart rate went up I could feel my mood going up right along with it.

 

 

Split Personality

From an early age, Panzer has been vying for the position of top dog in the household. Months ago, both Reacher and Vega outweighed him by more than 20 and 30 pounds, respectively. But that didn’t stop the little tank.

Panzer has never had any qualms about snatching a bone, ball, toy, stick, or his favorite treat – an ice cube – away from his larger and more mature housemates. He doesn’t even respect his mother Vega’s possessions, although she is apt to firmly remind him of his place in the pecking order. Panzer, however, is not deterred.

He enjoys picking a friendly fight and instigating wild wrestling matches. He bulldozes his way out the door ahead of the other two dogs whenever possible. He also waits when Reacher is the only one outside and is poised to pounce when his Boxer buddy tries to come back into the house. And Panzer loves to chase both Reacher and Vega through the house or around the yard, depending where they all are.

On walks, he barks at other dogs and owners alike as if announcing, “I’m Panzer. You better watch out!”

That’s why I was apprehensive when my son suggested we take him to the dog park with Reacher. Reacher loves to run and chase while he’s there, but he’s a very friendly sort. While Reacher would never have a chance of taking top honors in the confirmation ring at Westminster, I am certain he would receive the "Mr. Congeniality" award. Panzer on the other hand, maybe “Biggest Bully.” Or so I imagined.

At the park, Panzer was a different dog. He was leery of the other dogs and was only willing to play with Reacher. But Reacher was in his element and had places to go as well as  people and other dogs to see. If only dogs could talk, I’m sure Reacher would have told Panzer “Buzz off, little man. This is my turf."

Panzer, usually an avid ball-chaser, would chase the tennis ball only if no other dog appeared interested. As the ball sailed through the air, Panzer looked around and backed off if any dog -- big or small -- even glanced in the ball’s direction.

He was more than happy to trot back to my side, just sit and watch the action all around. If I could only take that Panzer back home.

Dog-Tired





By 5:30 pm, our three four-legged beasts were dog-tired. All three, all at one time.

Panzer was passed out. Reacher was resting (a rarity). Vega was virtually gone. It was more than a Kodak moment. It was a Kodak evening.

 

That what's you get when an extra-long training session, a winding walk along the nature trail and a ball-chasing outing all happen on the same day. Then of course, there was glorious sunshine and spring temperatures. For man, woman or beast, a day can't get much better than that.

 

In between activities, Reacher and Panzer were their usual rambunctious selves. Vega was more than happy to join in the fray. There was no crate time. And the two boys don't really understand how to chill out unless they're on lockdown. So, no rest for the weary.

 

As the day wore on, it was obvious that even Reacher and Panzer were winding down. After dinner, the two of them plus Vega each found a comfortable spot and were silent until bedtime.

 

The humans in the house enjoyed a rare quiet evening. I think the proverb has got it right - with a minor adjustment: Sometimes it's best when dogs are seen and not heard.