Two little dogs who could do with baths and haircuts

both thank you sincerely for your concern and best wishes.


Elvis is feeling quite well thank you very much!

Although he would really rather not wear the bucket. (We do take it off when we can keep an eye on him.)

Say it ain't so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home

The past week or so has been filled with more than the usual amount of angst. Last Friday I was walking both dogs in the morning, and we got attacked by a pair of bigger dogs which got out of their yard. Elvis and Mia are small terriers and Elvis is the smaller of the two. One of the escaped dogs raced up to Elvis and immediately grabbed him in her jaws and shook him in the air. It was one of the most traumatic situations I've ever been in.

I've always worried this could happen. Sometimes Elvis seems not to know how small he is and he occasionally he will growl or snap at a bigger dog (we definitely discourage this and pull him away). I really hate it when someone shouts out "don't worry, he's harmless!" as their large dog bounds towards you, miles ahead of them. Sure, he might be generally harmless but who knows what he'll do if a little white piece of fluff decides to snap and growl at him.

But, as it turned out, Elvis (and I) didn't have time to even know what was happening - there was no prelude at all, she just ran up and grabbed him. Meanwhile her companion chased Mia - at some point, probably while picking up the wounded shrieking Elvis, I lost her lead. There were some people around who wanted to help, and eventually the owners of the escaped dogs came and controlled them, including the one that had chased Mia. I couldn't really stop and talk, I just had to walk home straight away and try to find Mia. I was terrified that if I couldn't find her quickly, I might have to delay getting Elvis to the vet. I was massively relieved to find her unhurt on our doorstep, shaking and desperate to get inside. A very kind friend who lives nearby had heard the commotion and come to help look for Mia, and she drove us to the vet in my car. She normally drives an automatic, and we laughed about how this was that 'emergency situation' where it's good to be able to drive a manual. She did fine.

Elvis was very lucky really, he has some wounds on both sides of his body which required stitches, but no major internal damage. I've been feeling really strange about it because I failed to protect my dogs (even though I know there wasn't really anything I could do) and I can't properly remember all details of the incident. I don't remember the dog dropping Elvis, but she must have. I know I picked up Elvis and then she started jumping up at us, wanting to get him again. As well as Elvis, I felt so sad for Mia having to run home by herself, feeling abandoned and terrified.

I have since gone back to talk to one of the owners, who was very sympathetic, and also shocked when I told her what her dog did, and how it was unprovoked, as they didn't see the whole incident. She offered to pay the vet bills and I was glad not to have to ask. I might not have. They are expecting a baby soon and might not be able to keep the dogs. In spite of everything, I do find that sad, as they've had the dogs since they were puppies, and they are now 11 and 9. Some may be wondering the breed - they are a border collie cross - nothing too scary but, I think, an energetic breed that love to chase. Any dog can be violent - you should never leave any dog unattended with small children - but an incident like this (and I didn't ask if there had been others) surely increases the risk.

Elvis had a few very sad, slow moving days but is now feeling more like himself. Unfortunately he's had to have more work done on his wounds, so he'll be wearing a bucket on his head for a while. Undignified. But he should make a full recovery. It could have been worse.

We love our dogs in different sizes

As we were walking through busy Sydney streets last Saturday we found ourselves following a lady with this tiny dog on an extendable leash. The dog was so little we were a bit concerned he or she could be accidentally stepped on. The owner wasn't paying a lot of attention - I don't think she even noticed I took these photos.

Does anyone know what kind of dog this is?

Would you accept puppy kisses from this dog?

This was after our morning walk yesterday. He had it all sorted out by evening when I got home.

Must trim the hair that hangs in his eyes, though!

or whatever will bewilder me

This is the little bowl for Aunty M to go with the earlier bigger one. A good place to throw jewellery when you take it off at night - must make one for me, actually.

Avant feutring, avec chien.

Recently I discovered that these bowls take a different shape when turned inside out after felting. In this case I wasn't sure which way was better, and left it to my aunt to decide if she wants a shallower or deeper bowl.

In these weird closeup photos you can see the difference in the height each way.

It was a suitable name

When I went to meet Bells in Civic today, there was young dog happily bumbling around amongst the public servants emerging onto the street for lunch. He had the air of a dog who is accidentally on a grand adventure when he should probably be safely behind a fence. No one seemed to be with him or looking for him, though I had seen him greet quite a few people, who thought he was cute or sweet. When I spotted Bells approaching, he was heading up towards a busy road.

One of my greatest fears is seeing a dog get hit by a car. And I'm not that keen on seeing a car or two crash because they were trying to avoid a dog, either. I also feel I have a debt to society, because in the early days when we were still getting the fences and gate dog-proofed here, our dogs were returned by kind neighbours quite a few times. So I couldn't just let this little fella wander away.

He came with me willingly enough, but there was no name or phone number attached to his collar. So Bells called Domestic Animal Services, who quickly worked out that his description matched that of a dog that had been reported missing today from O'Connor (one suburb away). In an unexpectedly efficient bit of service, they also put her call straight through to the person who was missing a tan coloured Cocker Spaniel puppy called Wally. (He seemed to recognise his name, but then he was pretty eager to please in general.) We had one anxious wait while the young girl called her mum and then got back to us, then a longer wait for a family friend to come and find us.



I owe Bells big thanks for being willing to sit on the street for ages, in brand-new pants, no less, when we were supposed to be picking up our knitting from Crafts ACT and eating lunch. (Luckily we still had time to do those things after). I really didn't think I could handle the mental images of lost or squished dog the rest of the day, if we didn't do something.

And, yes I am a sucker. He was so sweet. Look at the size of those feet - I don't think he's finished growing yet, not by a long shot. Reuniting him with his people totally made my day.

She's actual size but she seems much bigger to me

Tonight my parents dropped in to return my car. I think I had the TV a bit loud and Elvis and Mia didn't hear the car in the driveway, nor the gate opening. Mum's sudden presence in the kitchen was trested as a Serious Threat to the security of their supply of Meaty Bites. It's possible the thinking was that she had a Dangerous Kitten stashed in her handbag. When someone arrives they normally only bark for a short time and usually only until the guest condescends to bend down and say hello.

Dad arrived a short time after Mum, and was teasing them by sitting down on the steps and peering around the door, and then they shifted from terror level orange to full red alert. This involves a lot of barking, some seriously hilarious growling, and some very threatening running around to hide behind me or jump on my lap - while still growling. It didn't help that I couldn't really speak sternly to them or talk much at all, because I was too occupied with shaking with hysterical laughter. (Way to train and control your dogs, I know). When Elvis growls it's like being menaced by a particularly cute and animated teddy bear.

How loose is your goose?

Of course the other day, the day that I discovered on the way to work that my book was defective, was the very same day I forgot my keys and had to kill about an hour on the back step waiting for Kam to come home. Luckily for me, perhaps not so for you, I had my camera and my dogs to entertain me.

"Mia! Did you see the pussy cat?"

"I've got it over here!"

Restoring balance to the universe

Some of you made me feel a little bit bad about those pictures of little wet arched back Elvis. Don't worry, pretty soon after that bath he was dried off, and went outside to mask that nasty clean shampoo smell by rolling around in the grass. And not much later he was completely dry and fluffy and blindingly white. See?



I've been loving the extra comments lately. Keep 'em coming. The discussion of nerdy rehearsal of conversations, past and present, was a clear winner. Also, just a reminder, if you would like to receive an email letting you know each time I post an update, say the word and it will be done.

I'm finally looking into a ski improvement programme, possibly for this summer. The kind where that goes for at least four weeks, where you turn up a frustrated intermediate, and leave as a sh*t hot skiier. And maybe get the wahoo back. The word on the street is that Canadians do it differently to Austrians - the Canadian style features more 'up and down motion', if you can believe that. If you've done this type of course or have any insights please comment or email me.

Bathing, a necessary evil

When I get back to my small flat I want to hear somebody bark

When I come home on a rainy day, the dogs are pleased to see me but not in their usual ecstatic way. They are more subdued and a little bit indignant, in a hurry to get inside and warm and dry. Of course they hate going through the process of getting dry, because that involves some nasty business with a towel. And sometimes a noisy hairdryer, which is a bit like being in front of the heater except a lot less dignified. They particularly resent getting each foot dried individually. Once I get them reasonably dry I leave them shut in the laundry while I spread sheets and towels on the couches to try to keep them dry.

Then I triumphantly open the laundry door and provide access to nirvana, the warm dry house, maybe even with their blanket in front of the heater. Without fail, within one minute, Mia is standing at the back door asking to go out again.

When I open the door for her – worried that she has been huddling on the back step for hours and probably needs to go – she goes out onto the back porch (which is covered by a tarp) and stares at the rain. Yep, still raining. Isn't it my job to turn OFF the rain?

She comes back inside and tries again in a few minutes.

I was talking about this with a friend earlier this evening. He said he had a cat who used to go to the front door, asking for it to be opened, look out at the rain, decide not to go outside. Then – brilliant flash of insight! Go to the back door, wait for patient person to open that one, look out at the rain (what? There's all this water here too?), decide not to go outside. Repeat this process several times.

I love imagining what goes on in their furry little heads.

 

They love their dogs here

If I lived in the Netherlands, (or much of Europe, it seems), Elvis and Mia could come on the bus, the train, or the tram with me. Mind you they would have to be a bit better behaved and calmer! As Lou said, how else do you get your dogs to the restaurant?

It's good to be The King

While we were out walking on Sunday morning, Elvis, Mia and I met a beautiful female golden retriever. She was on the other side of the road from us, exploring her front yard while some people congregated around a car in the driveway. She didn't see us for a while and I was hoping we could just get past without meeting. I actually like Mia and Elvis to meet other dogs, but not without a person to control the other dog. Elvis doesn't really seem to know how small he is and more often than not he’ll launch into aggressive barking at a much bigger dog. Then I have to drag him away, or if the other dog reacts, pick him up before he gets chomped. It's just not very dignified.

Anyway, this dog did see us, and the people there knew that and called her to them, but she bounded across the road to us anyway. I turned around to let the dogs meet her, but got ready to grab them if necessary.

The retriever approached Elvis, straightaway got down to the ground in a crouch, and then rolled over onto her back. I was amused and amazed. I have seen a dog do this before, but only while playing with a bigger and more aggressive dog and only after being forced into it. This retriever did it before Elvis even had a chance to bark.

Elvis sniffed around her a bit but didn't seem to know what to make of it all. Finally he rapped out a few sharp barks, and so I started to pull him away. Just then one of the people came across the road. “She'd cross a four-lane highway just to meet someone”, he said with a laugh. I wasn’t sure if this would be an animal someone or a human someone, or maybe she’s not too fussy.

Elvis was pretty puffed up after that. Instead of being his usual compliant self and bounding along from one interesting smell to the next, he became very decisive for the rest of the walk. I’d be planning to go one way, Mia would be pulling me in another and Elvis would suddenly sit firmly on the kerb, ready for my command to cross the road in a different direction altogether. Ah, well, he’s a funny little dog and he deserves the odd King interlude.