Some geek humor from Micron and I this fine holiday morning.
If this photo brings a vague feeling of remembrance, we posted it originally on Turkey in the raw. A minor alteration with speech balloons to update for Thanksgiving this year.
A Happy Thanksgiving from our house to yours. Safe travels to those on the roads. And keep in mind that finding a dog hair in the stuffing ain’t gonna kill ya.
Alright! A good hair day, now that’s a lovely way to start my morning. To my amazement, these ultra fine, straight-as-string hillbilly locks are tamed down and lookin’ sassy. Now that’s something to celebrate. I’m gonna video conference someone today, y’all.
Oh. [sigh] It’s raining. Fine. I put the post-it note back over the webcam eye on the laptop to block it from any unintentional viewing. I’ll just go old school and phone people today, I think as I leash the puppy for the first of many potty breaks.
It was a Work from Home Day last Monday. This was also Day Three of Euka and I getting to know each other. I always seem to be four paws away from being an animal hoarder (how many mammals can I fit in this house and still be married?), so being vigilant to the changing homestead dynamics pays off big time.
Micron, our change of career and former CCI puppy, was rather unsettled to find he is once again in the position of shared attention. The first couple of days, Micron would agree to be in the same room with the little usurper, but he kept his back to all of us. Dog language for being pretty peeved about our poor decision making skills.
I knew he was really put out when treating the dogs during a training session. Everyone in a calm sit, attention on the handler. Good dogs, well done! A puppy kibble is gifted to Euka, Jager and then Micron. Micron took the kibble, then opened his mouth to let it fall out. Not even the energy to spit it out, but just let it drop. Good grief, you big baby.
This didn’t bug me overly much. Just like when we introduced young Yaxley, Micron will process this change in his life and eventually warm up to the puppy.
And as the week progressed, Micron finds comfort in knowing that he’s still dearly loved and rides in the car haven’t stopped. Meal times continue to happen on schedule, even though the puppy’s exclusive noon meal is kind of a sore spot. So Micron’s made a smooth transition from talk-to-my-back to tentatively sharing the dog bed, then finally full out play sessions in the backyard. Moving along nicely here, I think.
And Jager, our terrier All American mutt, is a pro having been through this puppy thing a few times. As a professional victim, he accepts his role as a squeak toy and pin cushion for needle teeth. He also knows that eight week old puppies don’t climb stairs. The second story is Sanctuary for weary, gnawed upon older dogs. Well, for now.
Ah, but what about the cat and his visions of grandiosity, you ask? Honestly, I really didn’t know which one to be afraid for. Who will be predator and who the prey? I knew to keep a close watch on this new relationship.
To discourage prey drive in the CCI puppies, I don’t want to introduce a cat that will allow himself to be chased. Which is one reason we have Bodine around here. This cat will stand his ground or he will until bodily shoved by three dogs moving through a room. I’ve seen this cat weave between the legs of happy canines (You’re home! You came back! say the dogs) only to get plastered to the kitchen wall in all the excitement. And the honey badger just doesn’t care. Hey, Food Wench, says Bodine, Sovereign Ruler of Sword House. My bowl’s empty again. Fill ‘er up, why doncha?
Now take a sec to check out this photo below with Bodine and Euka. What do you see taking place here? No, no, you’re right. Bodine is indeed sitting upon a sheet of cardboard that I set out as a cat trap to keep him off my laptop keyboard while I’m working. Right, normal stuff. No big deal.
But an interesting turn when Euka grabs the cardboard cat trap and starts pulling it across the kitchen floor. Tug-jerk-slide, tug-jerk-slide. The cat rides bumpily along like the dog is learning to drive a stick shift.
And look at Bodine’s posture, that look of regal entitlement. Mush onward, you smelly beast of mine, says Bodine. Deliver me to the royal kibble bowl before I fade to a skeletal state.
So what a busy week for this little critter, Euka. A flight from California to Ohio to be met by cooler temps, different digs, furry friends and her new puppy raisers. And she’s taking it all in like a champ.
Ever curious and always moving, with the heart of a lion. This Euka is going to be a blast to have around for the next year or so.
Micron: Ow-ow-ow! Holy dog! Really? Ow!
Euka II: Rawr! nom nom nom
And it begins.
We had started off our Saturday in the usual quiet, routine driven manner as we’d become accustomed. But with the full awareness that this was one to be savored. In a few hours we were going to toss some drama into daily mix. On purpose and everything. The little polar bear pup, Euka II, was due to arrive.
After picking Euka up at the Dayton airport and giving her a short tour of our homey little burg, we introduce her to her new digs. Can you handle the steps to the kitchen, you precious little package? we fret. Concerned, we carry her into the kitchen and set her gently down upon the retriever-colored tiled floor.
And like a little furry cyclone, she changed the dynamics of our homestead in a matter of mere seconds.
Dang, says Euka. This place is boring. Rocking your world in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
Rawr!
While Micron and Jager play out the clingy love scene of “you love me best, right?” I’ve got one hand busy assuring my undying love for a forever dog and the other attempting to disengage shark teeth from a soft canine body part.
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| That striped kitty tail has become an instant favorite for puppy teeth. Not sure what the husband is about with his hand, but it appears to be a countdown. |
The cat strolls up from the basement to see what the ruckus is about, because if there’s to be drama in this house, it is his to own.
You’ve got to be [expletive deleted] kidding me, says Bodine, Sovereign Ruler of Sword House, as he faces off the polar bear. What the heck were you guys thinking? I didn’t approve this.
Bodine is swift in asserting his power over this new little serf of his kingdom, but it is met unheeded. The cat finds it hard to maintain dignity, and that swaggy saunter, with the puppy nose vigilant in checking out where the feline nads of steel used to be. Bodine decides to move to a chair to continue his quiet displeasure on this turn of events.
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| I have the leash and so I now hold all the Power, says Bodine. You are mine to rule. Rawr!, says Euka. Gotcher tail! |
But even an eight week old puppy can’t keep up this level of energy forever. Long after the rest of us have decided to call it a day well done, Euka finally starts to slow down. I just need to catch my breath for a minute, she says. Ha ha, just kidding. Rawr!
But yeah, she does shut down. In a slumber so deep that can only mean a full battery recharge. As we move in and out of the kitchen, not a blink or twitch out of her. She’s out.
Oh, but we’ve been through this puppy thing before. We know her batteries charge faster than ours. We use the quiet time to recover, get some things done, grab some dinner.
And just in time too. Cuz she’s up again.
Hey ya sweetie, we say. Glad you’re here, Euka. We needed some drama around this place, we did.
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| Sleep, puppy. Sweet dreams, little polar bear. |
So, asks Micron, when’s this new puppy thing getting here anyway?
Really, Micron? I’m so glad you’re showing interest now, I said. I thought you were rather lukewarm on this puppy situation. What changed your mind?
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| Seriously, says Micron When *is* that puppy gonna show up? |
Because you’re obviously getting low on blog fodder. As I raise the camera again to focus, Micron knocks the Christmas head boppers off with a left paw and begins chewing on them. I’m tired of you telling me to [chomp chew] do something “interesting” so you can write about it. I’m not a trained seal, you know. To add emphasis to this point, he drops heavily to the ground making a flump sound.
Of course you’re not, I say. You’re a highly trained, um, family pet. Ok big guy, I admit I’ve been putting a lot pressure on you over these past few weeks while we await Euka II in all her adorableness. . . .
I’m adorable, says Micron.
Right, I say. You are indeed my snickerdoodle. All 85 pounds of you are nuthin but sugary sweetness. Ah, except when you get wet, then we’re dealing with more of a mushroom soup sensory experience.
Yep, I’m like a cinnamon and sugar-coated, wait . . . what? Mushroom soup? I do not smell like mushroom soup, says Micron. Well, maybe. But that’s food so that’s good too, right?
Sure it is, my love. I say. Look, let me give you a break this week. I’ve been talking with the family of one of your littermates, Madden. They tell me he’s now certified in Pet Therapy just like you are. But with a different organization than Miami Valley Pet Therapy, since Madden lives on the East Coast.
I remember my brother Madden, says Micron. A squint as he tries to picture him. He’s a great guy and all but he’s kinda, well, different.
I think the word you really mean is “unique”, I correct him. Until your M litter came around I never saw a brindled Lab/golden coat before. He is the most striking dog I think I’ve ever seen.
[cough] says Micron. A tiny jingle bell rolls from his mouth.
Oh! Ok, let me be specific here. I attempt to clarify. Madden is the most striking brindle-coated Lab/golden cross that I have ever seen. Obviously the good looks run with wild abandon throughout the M litter.
Well, says Micron, tossing his head, it’s not like we have a switch so we can just turn off The Handsome or something, you know. It’s on all the time.
Oh, I know. I say, rolling my eyes at him. Anyway, here’s Madden’s story as shared by his family, David and Regina. It seems you two handsome boys have more in common that just being a couple of irresistible chick magnets. The waters run deep here.
I’m thirsty, says Micron.
[sigh] I say.
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| Madden, in all his gorgeous glory. I see the family resemblance, says Micron. |
Madden – from the most beautiful litter in CCI history. Some of us were lucky enough to raise one of these sweet M’s. We had high hopes for Madden before turning him back to CCI for advanced training. But Madden decided it was not the life for him, so he came back to join us as a pet.
But we sensed he really did want a job to do . . . just not be a service dog. So we joined Creature Comfort Pet Therapy which a fellow CCI puppy raiser Joan Baer created with Annie Murphy. Madden and I have been doing pet therapy and he just gets better and better each visit. Though not effusive, he just nestles into people and lets them know he is there for them.
He brings such joy. He has truly found his niche in life. Good boy Maddaroo.
-David & Regina
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| Land Shark |
Cue the Jaws theme . . .
- Victim: Yes?
- Shark: Mrs. Arlsburg?
- Victim: Who?
- Shark: Mrs. Barganuke?
- Victim: Who is it?
- Shark: Flowers.
- Victim: Flowers for whom?
- Shark: Plumber ma’am.
- Victim: I don’t need a plumber. You’re that clever shark aren’t you
- Shark: Candygram.
- Victim: Candygram my foot. You get out of here before I call the police. You’re the shark and YOU know it.
- Shark: Wait. I’m only a dolphin, ma’am.
- Victim: A dolphin? Well, okay. (Opens door and screams)
Right, that’s from the infamous SNL Land Shark skit from November 1975. Who remembers watching that live on that Saturday night? Hey, all you people under 40 can put your hands down now. We know better.
My generation not only was there for this landmark comedy, but we repeated the dialog as a running gag.
Some of have even kept it up for the last 37 years.
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| Candygram, ma’am |
Go. Do. Be Dog. 