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This Day in My History

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Latest video:  Playing Puppies


29 June 2005

That's one determined pair of puppies.  Their entire goal in life has become GETTING IN THE HOUSE.   It starts at 4 a.m.

Unfortunately, last night I fell asleep about 9:30 and woke up at 1:30, unable to get right back to sleep.  I started watching a Showtime special on "Same Sex America," which I had DVR'd and about 3/4 of the way through it I was brought up quickly when a lesbian couple I know appeared on the screen.  I know them slightly and haven't seen them in years and years--but there they were, with their daughter--talking about same sex marriage.

Naturally, I had to get up and send off e-mail to all their mutual acquaintances, asking if they'd seen the show.

By the time that was done, Sheila was pacing about and there were determined puppy paws batting at the sliding glass door, so here I am writing this entry at 4 a.m, knowing that my day began at 1:30 and there will be no more sleep now until I take the inevitable nap while the puppies are at the vet's being spayed today.

They are cute, but what a handful.  Bundles of determined energy.  The weather has turned quite warm--pushing the 90s--and so I'm wearing shorts and Birkinstocks.  Sydney's goal in life is to bite any bare part of my anatomy he can reach and it's become downright painful walking out into the yard, until he finally finds another object to chew on.  While he's tearing at my flesh, Friedman is jumping all over him, making getting to Sydney's mouth to pull him off my bare toes difficult.

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Then when I decide to come indoors, it's such a comedy that I wish I had a camera crew to film it.  Here we are: one human and four canines and we all want to come in the house, but only 3 of us can come in and the requirement for admission to these hallowed halls is the ability to control one's bladder.  This limits admission to those who are more than 8 weeks of age.

So I open the door cautiously, trying to block the puppies, while Sheila zips in ahead of me.  Sydney at this point is more focused on getting INSIDE than biting my feet.  I slip in and quickly close the door because Kimba hasn't yet figured out that we are all going inside.

Poor dear Kimba is 15 years old and she is a creature of habit.  For all of her life here, she has been using the dog door and at her age she isn't about to change now, whether the door is blocked off or not.   For all of her life, whenever a 2-legged creature has walked through the glass door, she has gone in the dog door, even if the glass door is standing wide open.   She knows her place and it is not walking in through the human door.

So she ends up being trapped outside with these whirling dervishes she can just barely--but not much--tolerate, who think she's a puppy, because she's their size.    If I open the door for her, she is confused--this isn't the door she's supposed to use.  It takes a few seconds for her to realize that maybe she should come in this way, but in the meantime, I have these completely determined little bodies of energy who are trying to get through the door.  I keep pushing them back and trying to close the door without trapping their noses, or hurting them by pushing them back, but they are like a 2-animal herd of stampeding buffalo.  They will not be deterred.

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If I am unsuccessful in keeping them out, they burst through the door and immediately start racing around the kitchen counter, leaping on the bag of dog food and grabbing anything they can grab to start yanking on.  And if you pick up one, the other one is off in the other direction, determined not to be caught.

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Today Sheila was actually trying to "herd" them.  She'd get them rounded up and then start to lead them out the back door.  One would follow her and the other would take off in the other direction toward the living room, and she'd look at me as if to say "well, what do you want me to do about it?"

If it weren't so damned frustrating, it would be funny.  In fact, Shelly was here yesterday when I was trying to keep the puppies out and let the dogs in and she laughed a lot at the sight of me trying to keep these puppies from coming in.

At one point last night, I don't know how I did it, but I managed to close the door on my head and Sydney's body at the same time, while Friedman was trying to climb on Sydney to get in over him.

The first day the puppies were here, they were having such a good time playing with Sheila and she was having such a good time playing with them, that I began to entertain fantasies of maybe expanding my SPCA participation to taking in the occasional older puppies, not just the semi-helpless newborns.  But I'll tell ya, after a day and a half of this pair, I've revised that idea.   It's nice to have them here; it's fun sitting outside at dusk and watching them play, but getting up at 4 a.m. each morning and going through all these gyrations every time I want to go outside or come inside makes me realize that I'll stick to the ones that need to be bottlefed, thank you.

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"How can you be upset with cute little ol' me?"

(Video of puppies playing was uploaded this morning.  See left for link)



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