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Wordless Wednesday: Like a finding a puppy in a leaf stack

Posted on November 20, 2013 by Donna Black-Sword
We interrupt your day with a d’aww puppy photo.

Yeah, we didn’t think you’d mind the eye candy break.

This was Miss Euka last year in her first Ohio leaf pile.  Holy cow, is this stinkin’ adorable or what, people? It’s not like the eight week old pup had a kill switch for being ridiculously cute. This was On all the time.

And now? What’s that you say? The next photo looks like a Pinterest Fail ?  Hey now, I’ll have you know that our girl is actually demonstrating a very nice Roll* command while keeping a level of Cute happening, albeit dialed down a notch or two.

Here’s our lovely girl at a mature fourteen months.

_________
*The Roll command for Canine Companions for Independence pups is not the Roll Over command. Euka is doing a lovely job of showing us how one maintains a calm posture of resting on one’s backside. She practices this in the office as well.  Usually by showing off her girly parts.





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Wordless Wednesday: Winds of autumn

Posted on November 13, 2013 by Donna Black-Sword

Wait … did you hear that whooshing sound?  Oh, yeah, that was just autumn leaving Ohio. I have no idea what the hurry was, but the glorious fall season is gone.

Nothing left but memories and photos.  And a thick blanket of leaves under yesterday’s snowfall. And under those leaves?

Well hidden land mines of the doggie kind.

In remembrance of this all too short season, I wrote y’all a Haiku.

Snow on the pumpkin
I’ts not even Thanksgiving
[bleeep] where are my boots?


Huh, says Euka.  Nice one, Food Lady. You’re a poet and didn’t know it. Yeah, you might want to hang onto your day job for awhile.





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Back as her sassy self

Posted on November 10, 2013 by Donna Black-Sword
Euka’s back!

It was the first day she was working here with me in the northeast field of the P&G Pet Care cube farm. We have a couple of drop-in workstations next to my mine, where I always give day visitors the heads up that I sure hope you like dogs. There’s always at least one furry being with me in the office, you know.  My work is awesome that way.

My new neighbor turns to look with interest in my current interaction with Euka. Why are you massaging her ears? she asks, smiling.

‘Cuz she just came back in from a play session outside with Jeff’s puppy, I said. And her ears are completely besnotted with boxer slobber. I’m just rubbing them to get rid of the spiky moussed look. 

I look up at my cube partner and note her expression, the smile now frozen. Oh, she says. You know, I’m sorry I asked.

And she was, really. Yeah, I can tell a cat person when I see one.

And back to her sassy self, as well.

Another reminder to me, as I am wont to forget this fact, that not everyone loves All Things Dog as much as I do.

Like the time I was wiping out Micron’s ears with a tissue while in deep conversation with a friend. Good gravy, I said, pausing to consider the brown ear wax. Look at how thick this is. It’s like apple butter inside there. 

[gaaaak], says my friend. Donna, that’s setting off my gag reflex. 

Yeah, this is pretty bad, I agree. More cinnamon would make it better.

We dog lovers are a hardy bunch, aren’t we?  We can have a full discussion on poor canine stool quality (I swear it looked like butterscotch pudding) while noshing upon sloppy mushroom swiss burgers for lunch.   And we trade personal horror stories about the inconceivable amount of blood that a torn dew claw will spurt (I just about busted my butt slipping in the blood on the kitchen floor).  I’ll tell everyone how Micron, when wet, smells just like canned mushroom soup.  Nothing touches my iron clad appetite.

Unless it’s of the non-canine variety, that is. I had a daycare worker tell me one time that she knew which toddler needed a diaper change just by the smell.  Did you know each kid produces his or her own personalized aroma? Yeah, I didn’t. Something to do with different gut flora, I would guess. Then she leaned over and sniffed into the back of a nearby diapered kid while stuffing an index finger in the biological melee inside. Holy dog, I nearly yacked on that one. I’ve been trying to store that memory in the brain archives so I can pull out the file on it as needed. But no, this scene just pops back in the frontal lobe at will to give me a rumbly tummy.

So yep, I’m a dog person. All the way through.

Except when I’m not. And that’s just been one thing so far, I’ve found. It was not just the inexperience of dealing with it, but also the reputed smelly mess that had me just a little worried about caring for a dog in estrus  You know, the heat cycle. In season. An ill-timed visit from Auntie Flo. Whatever you wanna call it, I prefer less hormonal drama in my house.

Is she back? Naw, I’m good. Grab the
camera, will ya?

It’s for the best anyway, for CCI to keep Miss Euka safe and sound and virtuous at their training facility.  We talked about the stellar breeding program of Canine Companions for Independence in last month’s blog post at Then this (ugh) happened.   The post of which I lamented my sorrows over missing out on the Euka-posing-with-a-pumpkin photo op due to the crappy timing of nature’s call during my beloved season of All Hallow’s Eve.

But three weeks after dropping off a little girl, we picked up a young lady this week. Yep, finally got the girl back at our place to continue her puppy training.  We did indeed miss the attitude around here.

You know, Micron and Jager are cruising along on autopilot these days. Pretty much just maintenance mode since there’s not much else that can be done with Jager’s training. I yam who I yam, says Jager in his best Popeye voice. There’s no changing him at this point. And who would want to anyway? And the mighty Micron is in the same boat, which has me mixing my metaphors with auto piloting and boating. But we have the Popeye link, so there’s that.

Oh, but I do love the challenges that come with this gig of puppy raising for CCI.  I’m so jazzed to be working with Euka on her socialization skills again.  And she’s back just in time for some autumn photos, sans the Jack O’Lantern, a couple examples of which we’ve shared above for y’all.

And now with Euka back at our place, we can get the band back together. The Ohio E’s are all in town to rock our worlds.

Oh hey, what if these guys were really a rock band? How would that work out, do you think? I see the laid back Everett as the drummer, right? Duuuude, says Everett. Emma could be bass and Ella keyboards. Or maybe with a tambourine.

Our Miss Euka? A natural choice as lead singer. She craves the adrenaline of the spotlight, this one.

Her report card from CCI from her three week spa vacation came back as Excellent, which has bumped up my confidence in her another notch. I don’t know the future for Euka, but I can imagine it.

Because when her time with us is finished, Euka will be rocking the world for her person. And not just Miss Euka. This entire E litter is something amazing. I’m thinking all these E’s are going to be rock stars.

We have just a mere six months left with these pups, but you know, I can’t wait to see what they’re going to do next.

We’re getting the band back together.
The Ohio E’s clockwise from top: Ella, Euka, Everett & Emma.

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Would you rather: Princess or Demon?

Posted on October 21, 2013 by Donna Black-Sword
Which will it be?  Demon?

So, my friend asks, turning to me during a companion animal nutrition presentation at the office. Which you rather be called? 

Which what? I whisper back. The presenter has been going on about answering the nutritional needs of the lactating feline and canine. Queens, to be using the appropriate terminology for the maternal cat. And of course . . . oh don’t make me say it out loud. You know, a girl dog.  A beech, or something.  Great, now I’m blushing.

Would you rather be a Queen? he clarifies. Or a Beech? 

Oh that. Good question, I say. The apex of personality tests, this query. Taking a moment to ponder the implications of each position of status . . . a queen can govern over man and country, but a beech, well … done properly a beech could quite possibly rule the world.

It’s all about choices, isn’t it?  And motivation. That too.

I think, I say. I would like to be a baroness.  A lady both titled and a landowner. The wealth is implied, right?

Not only is this dialog a for real reenactment, but it continues as a long running conversation among co-workers. Such is the life in the pet food business.  A true story, y’all.

I’m reminded of this conversation, not because there’s a direct link to anything here, but rather it rose above the detritus of my muddled mind as I’m reviewing the photos for this week’s post.

Or princess?

And, as I allow myself the luxury of a deeper thought, perhaps it’s because I offered a similar persona-style choice to Euka in the way of the imaginary world of Halloween.

Ah, the magical and mystical holiday of Halloween, where you can let your creativity flag fly high. That one day where you can go about in confidence that it’s socially acceptable to don the attire of your alter ego. Impress friends and family as a caped super hero or a favorite celebrity? Or go all creepy with a stumbling zombie or toothy vampire? Maybe you can breath new life into that age old debate of which is more awesome – Pirate or Ninja?

Oh hey, what about a princess or a demon?

Which would you rather be?

If nature takes it course as we would expect things to be, Miss Euka will miss the usual autumn festivities here at Sword House this year. I honestly don’t have the energy to go into the drama of it all just now, but clicking on last week’s Story Sunday post, Then this (ugh) happened, can fill you in on our mandatory change of plans for my favorite time of the year.

So after dragging the Halloween costumes from the basement storage, I was rather jazzed to see our little girl had several choices available to fit her small frame. Yet as fast I’m pulling the costumes from the box, I’m dismissing the options just as quickly. I want something to stand up to Euka’s unique personality.

Jager’s old costumes are summarily considered, then set aside. The skunk would likely fit body-wise, but no, it’s not the right look for Euka.  Same with the banana outfit. That one’s a spit take to see Jager sporting, but again, not for our spunky girl.

Hmm, how ’bout the pretty, pretty princess dress? This was Inga’s first Halloween costume and the lovely pup just rocked it. Ok sure, let’s give this a try. I secured the gown’s velco and cinched up the tie to the girly-girl pink and pointed hennin*.  And …

Gads, she looks miserable. Right?  This image was brought to you by the courtesy of Iams biscuits. Nothing less would get that outfit on her.

Fine. I peeled the thing off of her before she could do it herself.

Ok, let’s see what else.  There’s the orc riding Warg from Lord of the Rings. But Jager wants to wear that one all the time.  There’s festive belled collar for the court jester.  That felted wonder was hand-made in a short-lived burst of fine motor skills one Saturday afternoon. And it too was set aside atop the pile of rejections.

And oh yeah. The demon costume.

Alrighty then. On with the cape and devil horns. I’m not surprised to find these all slip on the pup like a second skin.

No squirming. No complaining. And no dog cookies as a bribe.

She so owns this look.

Oh, but what do you think, dear reader?  Do you prefer the princess for our delicate flower?

Or is this spirited personality totally rocking the demon look?

I have a contract for you to sign. Trust me. Here, use my pen.

________________________
*The pointy princess hat is a hennin. I know, I’m such a nerd.  I really need to work out getting on a trivia game show, like Who Wants to be a Millionaire.  Then I could stop this nonsense about dreaming about being a rich baroness and just live the life.

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Then this (ugh) happened

Posted on October 13, 2013 by Donna Black-Sword

Then this happened.

Uh huh, you say. Of course it did, sweetie. Now might you clue us in on what you’re on about now? Because this is making absolutely no sense.  You know that, right?

No no, it’s ok.  I can explain.  Really.

You see, it all started when I was finalizing travel plans with the puppy raiser of Euka’s littermate, Ella, for the following day. This effort of carpooling coordination is worthy of due diligence. Should traffic karma be on our side, the drive to Dublin for the Canine Companions for Independence’s Walk’N Roll fundraiser is darn near an hour and a half.  Or it could take longer if I-70 snarl-ups arise. And those are the times when it’s important to really like your carpool partner.

As a final thought as we close our IM conversation, Maggie says to me so Euka still hasn’t started her heat cycle yet?  Are you sure she’s not already pregnant? When are the puppies due?

I know, right? I’m hoping for Rottweiler Labrador cross, actually, I say.  A Labrottie.  Cuz it sounds like an Italian race car.  Then I make rrr-rrr-rooombaa race car sounds.  Which Maggie can’t hear because we’re IMing.

I’m feeling a “Caption This” post coming on.

This a running joke between us, the puppy due date thing. Our delicate flower, Miss Euka, is the last girl in her litter to, well, become a woman, as they say.  All the girls have either started their first estrus cycle or have finished the process to return to the business of growing up to be service dogs.

Wait just a sec, you say. Not only does that have no connection to the enigmatic photos you keep throwing on here, but what’s this about service dogs in heat? We dedicated readers are all over here thinking you might want to cut back on the cold meds a little.

Ah, yes. I love that word, enigmatic, too. It’s no mystery it makes me rather happy to see you use it, hahaha [snort]. And I appreciate your concern over this nasty cold bug I’m trying so hard not to spread to friends and family. Even though one of you gave it to me first. And I know who you are, buster.

And hang loose here, people.  I’ll tie all this together for you. Just give me a minute willya, sheesh.

About that going into heat thing … Euka and her sisters were selected at birth as possible future breeders of possible future service dogs. I’d love to go on and on about CCI’s stellar breeding program, but after just a few sentences I’d be making things up. I’m simply not that close to it. Let’s just stick with the facts here then.

From CCI’s website:

Best of the Best.  Breeder dogs and their puppies are the foundation of our organization. We carefully select and breed Labrador Retrievers, Golden Retrievers and crosses of the two after an intensive evaluation process.

Our breeding program staff checks each dog’s temperament, trainability, health, physical attributes, littermate trends and the production history of the dam and sire. Only then are the “best of the best” chosen as CCI breeder dogs.

Did you catch that?  Best of the best, y’all.  Now as a possible future breeder, Euka was determined to have the right stuff, genetically speaking, to be considered a candidate for the breeding program.  She will be evaluated as she matures and this assessment will continue after she begins Advanced Training at CCI.

That is, we carry on as normal with this puppy raising business. Because even though she is a candidate, the odds are very much against her. The dogs in the final selection for the breeding program are held to some very high standards. Only a small percentage of potential candidates are selected to make more service dogs for CCI.

And when I say, we puppy raisers are tasked to carry on as normal, what I really mean is exactly that. Until our little girl goes into heat, that is. And then things take a sharp left in the fork of Puppy Raiser Lane.

Ok, heads up. Here’s where we connect all the dots in this story for you. Ready?

Recall that Maggie and I were joking about Labrotties in our IM?  I’m still making stupid race car sounds, when I reach down next to my chair where Euka is napping.  A casual peek just to double-check the status of the girly goods and . . . Maggie? I gotta go. I’ll call you later. 

Growing up on the farm, it was a Rated-R experience when any of our dogs started a heat cycle. We had dogs we’d never seen before visiting our place like it was Discount Day at the brothel or something. And with that psyche damaging childhood experience, I am fully aware of the dangers of Italian race cars.

Nothing to be done about it but deliver Miss Euka to the safety of the CCI regional center. The Spa Experience, we call it.

And because Euka will likely be at the Spa for the next three weeks, we’ll miss her lovely presence at the various and sundry Autumn season festivities. Only my favorite time of year, no big deal. So I’m grieving over the loss of photo ops at the pumpkin farm with Euka. I have to accept there will be no shots of her admidst the painted autumn leaves. No girly girl Halloween costumes.

Wait, what? No costume photos? Oh nuh uh, that ain’t right. I look at the clock. Between the revelation of our situation and getting Euka to the Spa, we only have about two hours of daylight left. But in those two hours?  One of  ’em is the photographer’s favorite.  The Golden Hour of Light.

I’m so getting a Halloween photo of the princess. This will happen. Oh yes, y’all, this will happen.

I have a lot of frames that look pretty
much just like this one.

But yeah, before that happened?  The stuff in the above photos happened. I just wanted a shot of Euka all back lit by the setting sun.  With devil horns on.

And this happened.

I blame the hormones.

She tossed those babies off her head and, with the devil horns clamped in her maw,  proceeded to run about like ….ok, like the devil was hot on her tail.

There’s nothing like a good romp about the yard to drive out the gremlins, wouldn’t you say?  Once the imps were out of her system, things settled down a little.

So, then this could happen.

Ah, a nice back lit golden hour photo of Euka rocking a set of devil horns. That’s all I was after here.  Well, once I lowered my standards some.

I was successful in a couple of other costume shots too. But those photos will have to happen in a later post.

Because right now, people?  I’m missing the little devil girl and I have to go wake Micron up ‘cuz he looks like he needs a hug real bad [sniffle]. And that’s gonna happen next.

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