The Speckled Wubba

German Shorthaired Pointer Puppy

IHeartDogs asked to see some baby Caelan photos. So who am I to deny her a dose of sweet speckled goodness. Caelan was such a sweetie when he was a baby. Not much has changed, he's just added a dose of bad boy to his daily repertoire, and who can resist a bad boy? Certainly not I. We didn't bring Caelan home till he was three months old, so I don't have any very young photos like I do of Taren. They grow up so fast. I can't believe he will be two in February.

Rainy Season

It is rainy season in Oregon. For those that do not live in the Pacific NW the rain starts on a bad year in October and lets up sometime the following June. It has been bad this year. The rain has been oppressive. It is dark and grey. Everything is water laden and sloppy. It makes it hard to be a pup that doesn't like to get his feet wet. The last few days in particular it has just poured. It is cold and windy. Taren does the potty dance and I take him down and he runs to the door. Hurry up momma! Hurry up! I fling open the door and he takes one look out, screeches on the brakes, and heads back up stairs. Lather, rinse, repeat throughout the day. At some point I tell him- Bubba, you are going out to potty like it or not. He can be horrifically stubborn and refuses to move. I end up lifting his back hips gently off the floor and steering him out the door. It is the only way. He is much too big to lift fluffie style and use the heave and toss method I see so often deployed by the owners of our smaller, hairier and more yappy cousins. The long suffering finally gives in and walks out into the rain, but not before giving one last look over his shoulder to his betrayer. Ya, the momma knows. Here's the phone, Animal Welfare is on speed dial. In the end he gets his final revenge, as he shakes off and his muddy paws leave a trail on my white tile.

Then there is the mighty squirrel hunter. I laid out some nuts for the squirrels for Christmas. I got a lot of bang for my nut bucks. The squirrels went crazy and Caelan is in stalker heaven. I cannot get the door open quick enough. He often clips the side of the door as I fling it open. I have glass french doors and I do not think they are long for this world, I can see a little sit training in our future. Nonetheless, he cannot get out there fast enough. He stalks and quivers, jumping on and off the deck racing along the fence. Back and again. All the while the squirrel chatters and throws down nut shells, teasing. Caelan is getting wetter and wetter. The rain running off his coat. I call him in, he hears me, as he glances over his shoulder and goes back to watching. Bad boy! I give him a bit more time, and go get a towel. I call him again, a bit more sharply. Nothing, the dog does not move. Note to self, train, train, train. I am kind of like Taren, I glance out and decide if I am going to have to go out in the rain barefoot and drag Caelan back in the house. He is just sopping wet. I finally go get the treat bag and shake. He comes running, as does Taren from upstairs. The clearest way to a dogs good sense is through his stomach. He takes his turn shaking water all over the house and I dry him off. Summer cannot come fast enough for any of us, especially my poor, poor carpet.

Textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Rita.

The Coffeeshop Blog: Action and Presets

Merry Christmas

Wishing all our online friends Peace, Love and Joy at Christmas and all the year through.

Much love to all- Taren, Caelan and the Momma.

PS-To those not celebrating have a wonderful weekend!

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I have been a good boy this year. Nearly perfect. The best boy ever. Even better than my brod'r, and certainly better than those fluffies across the street.

Well, I did eat the momma's three cell phones. I couldn't help myself they were so shiny, and new. The last one was red, you like red.

Then there was that Direct TV remote, but they charged the daddy for a new one, and new is good. Aroooooo!

I did steal my momma's fancy memory foam pillow, and dragged it to the backyard, but she has lots of other pillows and this one was really funny shaped anyway.

Oh, and I did tear a big hole in the side of the chair, and ripped the trim off, but the momma has been wanting some new furniture, so I was only too glad to help, I loves the momma. I have been a good boy.

I am sorry I ate those two collars, that pair of sandals, all those books, measuring spoons, that briefcase and daddies glasses. The eye Dr said that happens a lot and he gots a new pair. I have been a good boy.

Then there were all those kitchen sponges. I really like the green ones, but the blue ones aren't half bad either. I really like to helps the momma in the kitchens. I like to help put the groceries away, like the time I took the brown sugar out behind the A/C, the French bread, and the cornbread too. I likes breads. Oh, and I like the toilet paper also. If you pull hard on it, it unwinds and unwinds. I like that game. Momma closes the door now, but I bring in big dirt clods from the backyard and chew it all ups on the carpet. That is almost as fun. I have been a good boy.

I really like to bark at the fluffies across the street, the fluffy down the street, and that cat behind our house. I like to do my part to keep the neighborhood safe. Momma says, the neighbors must just love me, and I know they do. Aroooooo! I have been a good boy.

I know I have been good Santa. Momma says I am the best speckled boy around. I snuggles with her at night and I keeps her warm. I helps her cook dinner every night, and I drag the dirty clothes downstairs to helps with the laundry. I really love daddies yummy smelling exercise clothes and I only hide the socks once in a while. I like to take out the garbage too, I eat what I can. Anything to helps the daddy.

I am a good brod'r too. I only steal Taren's suckies once in a while. Not near as much as I want to. I like those stupid cats too, I help them clean up their food everyday so they don't have to. I always plays tag with the black one, but he bites. He's bad, but I have been a good boy.

Please Santa would you brings me lots of new toys for me and my brod'r. A big bone too. Maybe something for the stoo-pits. They are not smart, and they meow a lot, but they are fun to chase. I loves to eat them. I loves them.

I have been a good boy!

xoxoxoxox Caelan

O' Christmas Tree

Taren Looks Out Window

Ahhhhh....Christmas. The time of year where a great many of us indulge in the yearly ritual of trimming the tree. Insert Grinch-masy sigh. Every year soon after Christmas I lovingly take the tree down, and store all the keepsakes in their proper places. I remove the twinkle lights, coiling them carefully in individual bags. I nestle them protectively on top of one another, and close the lid of the giant plastic container, specifically chosen for this purpose. I then stow them away underneath the stairs in a climatically inclined storage room to await the following year. Upon which I wrestle the ridiculously enormous container back out, and prepare for another exercise in futility.

Here is what I want to know, how come all these lights worked when I placed them in the bags, yet a mere 12 months later a third refuse to do their job? I have finally gotten smart. I plug them all in BEFORE I put them on the tree. That cuts down my aggravation by a full 50%. Some years they light but do not twinkle. Fine, I slap them up anyway. I can deal. Only to find that now not only do they not twinkle, they do not light at all. Not to be outdone by what I am sure is a Wal-mart conspiracy to get you to buy more lights, and Christmas Ho Ho's to soothe your frazzled soul, I just slap some more lights over the top of their non working brethren. I refuse to take those soul killers down. I stand and admire my handy work of carefully wound and spaced lights. Ignoring the hazard label warning against too many extension cords. I like to live dangerously. I plug them in and the miracle of Christmas has arrived. The tree shines and twinkles. All except the strand right in the middle. *sob* This year, I am whipping those lights off, cramming them in card board, and shoving them into some spider laden corner of the garage. Now who's the boss?

This year I decided to move the tree out from the large window as it blocks the heat vent. That was short lived as the pups decided a rousing game of keep away around the tree was in order. Have you ever tried to move a fully decorated, ten ton tree? I finally put my feet at the base of the stand and shoved. Hoping for the best. That really got their attention as things fell and bounced off the carpet. The first of many pine cones met their demise. I put the nice glass ornaments on the top portion, I had bought plastic ones for the bottom. I know these dogs. It was all good for about three days. I sternly said- leave it, and they left it. Right up and until no one was looking. I would come downstairs to see the occasional pine cone crushed on the carpet, where Taren would have the good grace to at least look guilty. Then I began hearing the unmistakable sound of plastic being scrunched and I would walk down to see my Christmas Wubba with a crushed ball in his mouth surrounded by a big doggy grin. He, however, does not look guilty in the slightest. In fact looks quite pleased with himself. I tell him to drop it, he does. I put it back on the tree, all teeth marks and dents. It's their portion of the tree, crush all the balls you want. Up on my eye level, I can hear a chorus of angels sing from the sheer loveliness, and so goes the great tree debacle of 2010.

Company- The Melt Down

Well, hi there. It has been awhile. Life has been busy and complicated. Isn't that the way it always goes this time of year? We have had company, and it was interesting the way the pups dealt with the comings and goings. Caelan was as you might guess. The first growl led to barking, then to sniffing and then on to pet me, love on me, pet me, pet me, pet me, scratch me. Ya, right there..... Caelan loves everyone and everyone loves Caelan. Then there was Taren. He is not a people person. He loves his family and only his family. Including my mom and daughter, and even that took a few visits before the Weimy wiggle butt hit full throttle. He is not warm, nor particularly accommodating of people in his home. Simply put, the dog lost his mind. More interesting, the company was my son and his wife. All animals love my son, except apparently, Taren. Taren barked, growled, and bristled up each and every time my son made a move, or walked in or out of the room. He was having none of it. He did eventually go easy on his wife though and was fairly friendly toward the end. It got so bad that I felt sorry for my neighbors, it was a continual bark-a-thon. Nothing I did improved the situation, and I was a bit dismayed by the entire ordeal. In the end I did regain some control, but it was an uneasy truce of sorts. When my company departed I realized just how stressful the visit had been to Taren. He was back to his sweet goofy self. He laid on the floor, wiggling his back on the carpet, all four legs in the air, with his silly doggie grin. His tail thumping on the floor. He was happy, and I was happy. I cleaned up and that afternoon I put in a movie and laid down with my boys. Taren snuggled up against my stomach, and Caelan snuggled up against my back, and I covered us all up with a blanket and all was right with the world.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Rainier Blue 2010, All Rights Reserved

Chair Eaters-The Puppy Years

Hi there!

Did you all survive Thanksgiving and Black Friday, the mother of all shopping extravaganzas? I did, I stayed home! Wimp that I am.

Ahhhh, but bargains were to be had. Sitting behind my computer screen, drinking coffee, up popped a message from Corel. They had some great deals. I picked up Painter Essentials 4 that they were practically giving away. Gives me the chance to get my feet wet, without putting out the big bucks for a professional level program. Sunday night we did venture out and walked into one of the big box, office stores to see if they still had any computer chairs left. I know..... how exciting, right? That must be the general consensus as they had tons of them lying around. Well, I was pretty happy. As two dogs, that shall go unnamed-but I will give you a hint, destroyed mine. One is grey, he ate the arms off, and the other is speckled, he ripped off the seat and destuffed it. They noshed my computer chair down to its bones while they were puppies. Yes, it was as pathetic as you imagine and worse. When the screw to keep the seat upright finally gave it up, I figured it was high time. We got our moneys worth though. It is so old we cannot even figure out when we bought it. So I am the proud owner of a sparkling new 'puter chair. Here's hoping the pups leave it be, or there are not going to be any more cookies around here. =0)

So how about you? Score any deals?

Actions compliments of Rita at the Coffee Shop

Actions

Mom Says It's Almost Turkey Day

We woke up to the first snow of the year. Just a bit, enough to cover the ground. Taren peered into the 5 a.m. darkness long enough to feel a bit of the chill rush in, and was completley over it. He gave me a disgusted look, ate breakfast and went back to bed. Caelan on the other hand lost his mind. He rushed outside, snuffled up a bit of the snowy goodness, jumped off the deck into doggy nirvana. He had the zoomies. He made lap after lap around the backyard in the dark. You could hear the frozen leaves crackling under his paws. There is a lot of simple joy housed in his speckled body. Back and forth he went. Leap on the deck, leap off the deck, run a few laps and back again. I hope we have a lot of snow this year.

Thanksgiving is is creeping ever near, closely followed by Christmas. It is a busy time of year for those that celebrate. For all of us, time becomes sacred. I fear my posts will be few and far between. However, I do want to share a great idea for homemade dog toys in the coming weeks. They make wonderful gifts for your dog loving friends, are inexpensive, and all around a lot of fun. Stay tuned.

I also need to get my boys to sit still for our annual Christmas card shoot. I always look forward to it with mingled joy and horror. They aren't called my bad boys for nothing. LOL

Anyway, I wish you all a wonderful Thanksgiving, for those that don't celebrate Happy Thursday!

There may be more frequent updates over at my other site. http://rainierbluephotography.blogspot.com/

 Momma says we are having turkey and she's gonna share. Arooooooooo! xoxoxo Taren and Caelan

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Rainier Blue 2010, All Rights Reserved

The Sausage King

I've been a mean momma. I've been giving my dog a hard time about his weight. Taren could stand to lose a pound or two. He is not fat, he is not even overweight, not in the slightest. So do not get me wrong, but to look his Weimy best it would not hurt. He gets plenty of exercise and eats fancy pants dog kibble. I will admit to being the problem. I like to share. A bite of cheese, a few pieces of raw meat to add to their kibble as a treat, a slice or two of apples, and a few doggy cookies for being a good boy and it all starts to add up. I need to cut back. It goes against my nature. Yet they do not need for a pound or two to turn into another obese dog walking the streets of our town. There are plenty of those already.

I pet and love on Taren and tell him he looks like a sausage with legs. (Which he doesn't) I tell him I am going to start calling him Jimmy Dean. You know, the sausage company. I sing to him, he is Jimmy Dean, the Sausage King, James Dean. Taren looks at me like, Lady you are nuts, but keep up the petting and we'll call it good. It's silly and all in good fun, but the extras need to be kept to a minimum to keep him healthy. His brother too. It will hurt me far more than it will him.

Disclaimer: I have nothing against Jimmy Dean or Sausage. In fact, on occasion, I am quite fond of both.

Squirrel Hunting

I have seen a lot of the back of Caelan's head lately. He has been busy stalking the squirrels. Our resident squirrel population is a band of thugs. Backyard bullies in a small furry package. They tease the dogs unmercifully. They drop down in the trees just out of reach and chatter. This sends KK through the roof. He stands at attention and points, his body quivers from head to toe. His tail bristles out making it look twice the size and all the hair along his neck and back stand out. He doesn't bark though, he just silently watches. Sometimes the squirrels jump from tree to tree and KK will sit and watch for long lengths of time. The squirrels like to teasingly drop small pieces of the tree down on the dogs, their tails twitching and chattering all the while. They are the mean girls of the backyard. Poor Caelan wants those squirrels so bad. When they are feeling especially brave they jump down on the fence and run the top line. I think this will be their undoing. Caelan is really tall and he can jump. One slip up and he will have them. I am not so sure how I will feel about it when the time comes, and its coming. I have hunting dogs and well, they hunt. It is not like the squirrels will not have it coming, furry little tormentors that they are. Yet this animal loving gal has a soft heart for all animals. Even for the garden digging, acorn hiding, rat like hecklers of the backyard.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Personality

I have always loved this set of photos of Taren. He is still just a puppy here, but you can see what he is all about, as it's written all over his face. He is my fun, silly goober that many of you have heard about over the past couple of years and then there is Mr. Intensity. He's not really big on that whole moderation thing. He is all about turning on the charm and working the poses, right up and until you step out passed his comfort zone. Then he is all business. Where's the momma going? Do I need to protect her?

Taren loves my husband, but at the end of the day he will always be a momma's boy and my protector. He is very aware of his surrounding, and his hearing is unbelievable. When he snaps his head up to take a look around, I pay attention. If he stands in the window and growls into the night you can bet I get up to see what is going on. Sometimes he just barks at the unfamiliar. In Oregon most of us are used to getting wet, but occasionally someone just has to break out the umbrella and Taren had to get his bark on the first time or two. Then there was the time the kid with the crotch rocket got right up on our bumper with a full face helmet and Taren lost his mind, twice. It was deafening, unbelievable, and over the top. In that order. He has since got over that as well. Sometimes he barks if you aren't throwing the ball fast enough, or if Caelan has the one bone out of three dozen that he thinks he has to have. That is an altogether separate bark though, and I know the difference.

Then there is the bark where he is trying to show you something, because you *might* just be too stupid to figure it out on your own. LOL I like this one the best. You just never know what you are going to get. Sometimes it's a big moth on the wall that KK will eat. Then there was the time, my inside cat was outside that I recently spoke about. Occasionally he leads you to the fridge for ice-cubes or to their food for his 8 o'clock snacky. Yesterday when I fed the pups their afternoon meal Caelan's bowl was missing. Which I thought was a little strange, but when it's KK you just shrug and go get another bowl. I even asked him, Where's your bowl, K? Not long after Taren was looking over the side of the deck, doing his come look mom, bark. So I trot over to see what was going on, survey the drop off, and there was Caelan's bowl!

When Taren has something to say, I listen.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Spam, No Eggs, All Before Coffee

I get up early every morning, 5 a.m. give or take ten minutes. I want to get up, feed the pups and drink my coffee. In exactly that order. The boys go back to sleep and I leisurely drink my coffee, check my email, and slowly wake up as the caffeine courses through my body.

Annoying me before caffeine lift off is a baddddd idea. As I peruse my email I am greeted with a comment from yesterdays post and it states: Dog training demands tantamount of patience as it is time-consuming. Proper socialization with the right amount of attention can help resolve dog problems. Oh really? Hmmmmm... Who'd have guessed? So I click on the profile to see who is giving me such an astute bit of advice to find there is no profile available. Of course not. I then click on the link, even knowing better, to find a Dog Services Directory. I am officially annoyed.

I knew when I started this blog that I would eventually receive a bit of spam, a snarky comment or two, maybe even the occasional troll. It is part and parcel for the medium. Yet I was not expecting to feel so chaffed about it. I highly doubt they took the time to read the post, although they did take the time to type in my word verification. Which for some odd reason amuses me. Putting the spam aside, it just seems far too easy these days to swoop in, read a few paragraphs and presume you know something about the individual and their life. In my case, my dogs.

I provide a very tongue in cheek look into the lives of my dogs. Very often at their expense. Just a bit of fun in an otherwise weary world. Are they bad dogs, as I often allude to? Absolutely not. Are they perfectly trained? No, but are yours? If you are nodding yes, behind your screen, sipping your Dr Pepper and eating Cheetos, I don't believe you. =0) Dogs, like people, are subject to whims and even the best trained dogs ponder the odds of snatching the Sunday roast off the counter before getting caught. I just do not take any of it very seriously, because I don't have to.

The comment, which I am sure was left on many dog blogs, implies my dogs problems come from lack of training, lack of a doggy social life, and lack of attention. Heck, lets throw in lack of exercise, because everyone else does. What the rogue commenter doesn't know is, Taren left he house a bit after 4 this morning, but not before sitting for his running harness and collar to be put on. You know, like a good boy. He ran 5 miles in a controlled manner, getting in far more exercise than the average human. He came home ravenous, but still sat on command, waiting for me to release him to eat. He was drooling, but he sat as commanded and waited. He was a very good boy. He then followed us upstairs to hang out with his family and rest. He will be with me the entire day. So much for that no attention theory.

My point is, dogs get away with exactly what you let them get away with. For some of us the definition of good behavior and training differ. Much like for children. I never let my kids throw themselves on the floor and scream like a banshee in the middle of a store, but many do. To each their own. I don't care that Caelan filches my spoons when I cook and runs to the backyard. I have more. It's not the good silverware. It's all fun and games. If I do not want to play along I tell him no, or I put up the baby gate. It really is that simple. More times than not, I chase him down. Which is exactly what he wants and I pet him and lovingly tell him he's a bad boy.

Then the next day, I share the story. Not because he is really bad, or needs training, or I am looking for advise. If I wanted advice I would ask. I share because I am a dog lover, and I love the crazy antics of mans best friend, and I think you do too. Spam and ugly comments on blogs takes away from the joy of the sharing. Polite and respectful dissent is always welcome. You just might want to wait until I've had my coffee though.

xoxoxoxo Me and the boys

 

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Mouthy

Look at my chubby Wubba! The spotted pink tummy, the Micky Mouse ears on his side, the big floppy ears, the head wrinkles, if that doesn't give you puppy fever, then nothing will. There is nothing better on this earth than a puppy. After potty training of course. =0)

In case you are wondering, that is a rock in his mouth. The days of carrying something in his mouth started young. Now if he would only quit sneaking the silverware I'd be happy. I am getting low on spoons.

Happy Tuesday!

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

The Serious Side

Let's face it, there are dog lovers, and there are non dog lovers. When the two meet, there is sure to be a raised eyebrow or two. The boys are part of our family and are indoor dogs. They eat, sleep and play in the house. Anyone that is a dog lover knows there are certain things that come with the territory. You never leave the house without a pass over with a lint brush. You can be assured, on occasion, to pick a dog hair off your dinner plate. If you have food they expect, no demand, you share. They can drag in more dirt, leaves, and mud than any pack of kids hands down. They drool, fart, and burp. They filch your keys, eat your shoes, and polish off a cell phone or two. You have no privacy. They stare at you while you eat, shower, or use the bathroom, and they always want to help. They stand on the back of your leather couch, all the better to stalk the neighbors. They share your pillow at night, and on more than one occasion have woke up nose to nose with a pup. They also hijack the blankets and hog the bed. They lick your hand lotion, they stick their tongue in your ear, and they will wash your face. They steal anything you have in your pockets, leave on the counters, or forgot on the floor. It's all fun and games to a dog, and I will admit, fun for this dog lover too.  99% of what they do I shrug off. They are a couple of lovable, thugs. The joy they bring to my life compensates for their naughty deeds. Yes, I could train the behavior away, but you would not get any more bad boy stories and frankly, I do not choose to. Right up and until the non dog lover, dog lover combo collide. You feel a little hangdog as they empty their jowls on the floor after a good drink of water, and wipe their face on the companies nice slacks. You begin to see your pups through their eyes and try to stem the tide. Which is difficult at times.  Barring doggie boot camp how do you handle guests in your home that may not be as tolerant of doggie behavior as us dog lovers?

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

All Fun All The Time

Taren loves to play. This is just one of thousands of photos of him and Cealan galloping through the backyard like a herd of elephants. You cannot see Caelan, but rest assured he is right on Taren's tail. We throw the ball, and get out of the way because the chase is on. They thunder around the backyard, kicking up the dirt and turning the yard into their own version of NASCAR. Skidding around the corners, with an occasional figure eight if the chaser gets to close to the chasee. There is a lot of joy in their play and it makes me happy to watch them.

On a side note, I will be taking a small hiatus. We are having company so there are sights to see, meals to be prepared, and conversations to be had. I will talk to you all on the flip side. If I owe you a letter, well, I will still owe you a letter. I will catch up as soon as possible, promise. In the mean time take good care and while my name will not be in your in-box you will be in my thoughts.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Sniff

Caelan, also known as K-K, the Freckled Wubba, and my baddest boy is getting a complex from his momma dishing the dirt on his naughty exploits. So for today, I am going to tell you something good about my boy. Caelan is the best snuggler hands down. The dogs sleep with us. Yes, I know, we are bad. It is just so hard to resist a good cuddle when they are puppies. Then all of a sudden they grow up to be big dogs, bed hogs and blankets thieves. Before you know it, a bad habit is born. Caelan likes to sleep right next to me, curled into the curve of my stomach and chest. He is oh so warm and comforting. He also likes to be under the blankets, where he so often ends up with most of the blanket. If you scoot over, he scoots over. He stands up, turns in a circle, and makes the cutest noise three times, and exactly three times. Puts his feet as close to your body as he can get and flops down in his rib crushing way. Which is really wonderful in the winter, not so spectacular when it is 90 degrees outside. Sometimes he snores. It doesn't bother me, I find it rather soothing. However, sometimes you wake up in the middle of the right to find a drooling dog face half and inch from yours on the pillow and it can be a little disconcerting. Not to mention the wet spot on the pillow. We have a lot of pillows so I just flounder about in the dark until I find a clean, dry one. K-K may be the resident bad boy by day, but at night he kind of turns into a pussy cat and that is just the way I like it.

Actions compliments of Rita at the Coffee Shop and you know where the texture came from. =0)

Many thanks to both for their generosity.

CoffeeShop Blog

A Day In The Life

Sheer Happiness

Let's talk about my bad boys. The speckled one to be exact. A couple weeks ago I decided to sit down and watch a movie I had been seeing in ten minutes stints for days and days. I was engrossed in the the crucial battle scene. You know, where the music is loud, the lopping off of heads has hit fever pitch and the blood, well it's spraying. Then Taren starts to bark, in that particular way in which I pay attention. I had the back door open, so I was a bit nervous. I mute the volume and then I hear it. The alarm is going off on our Jeep that is parked out front instead of in the garage where is generally is. I race down stairs to try to figure out what the heck is going on, and I see him. Caelan is standing in the living room with the Jeep keys in his mouth. The alarm is BLARING. Beep, BEEP, Beeeeeeeeppppppp..... I am thinking, the neighbors hate me right now. I step toward Caelan and the chase is on. He bounces on his feet from left to right, extremely happy with himself. He does the play puppy bow, and zigs and zags. I am dying at this point, because it is so completely inane, and so typically Caelan. A series of thoughts flash though my mind- Please don't crush the key fob, I will never get the alarm off! Where is the other set of keys! The neighbors hate me!!!  I am going to kill my husband for leaving the keys out! What can I bribe the dog with?! The neighbors hate me!!!!  I tell Caelan to drop it, in the voice of doom, and he does. I can hardly believe it. I yank up the keys, and of course fumble with them in my rush, and finally, finally, blessed silence. Thank goodness for Taren, because that alarm could have been going off forever otherwise, and it goes without saying, the neighbors would hate me. I lock the backdoor, and head back upstairs, but this time with both boys and I shut the door. I've had enough excitement  for one day, so it's back to the head lopping and the volume just a tad bit lower.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Watching

This photo was taken last summer right after we put our fence up, and before we put in ground covering. We spent a lot of time in the backyard working, the boys, digging and chasing. It reminds me of every little brother watching the big brother and hoping and wishing to tag along and play like the big kids. Yet all you can do is sit and rest, and wait till you grow into my baddest boy.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

New Digs

I decided to give the boys a new look. *sob* I have been working on this for HOURS and hours, and hours. So if things look a little weird around here, you know why. I am working on it as fast as my non coding little brain can figure it out. Run your mouse over the new header, spiffy huh? =0) I have a long way to go, but there is no turning back now. So, what do you think? Does it look okay on your end? If there are any major issues, please let me know. I will get to the small quirks, asap. Happy Saturday!

Protection-Weimaraner Style

Today marks my fifth week of Jury Duty. Three more weeks to go. As you walk through the maze of halls that comprise the Courthouse you cannot help but feel the cling of darkness that are the cases we hear. You believe people are inherently good, that your neighbors are trustworthy, and that the community you live in is safe. I am not so sure I feel that way anymore. Victims of crime parade in and out telling their stories, and your veil of innocence lifts. The tears tell the story, the bruises tell the story, and the small stuffie a child holds for comfort, tells the story. You feel the weight. The minutes tick off slowly. The silence in the room after particularly difficult testimony is deafening. All you can think is- What is wrong with people? When the day blessedly ends, you step out into the sunlight, take a breathe of the fresh, warm air and you feel an unbelievable sense of relief. You pull out of the Courthouse slowly, and make your way home. To a nice house, in a nice neighborhood, that has my two boys waiting for me. Where in a few hours my husband who loves me, as I do him, will arrive. Where the worst thing that ever happens is nothing a trip to Lowe's will not fix. Yet, it feels tarnished somehow. As you let the dogs back in the house, you firmly close and lock door. The door, that five weeks prior stood open nearly around the clock. I will be glad when my service is complete. I want my life back, and I want my door open again.

The boys add a layer of protection to my life. Especially Taren. He is always with me, following me from room to room. When he cannot, he waits outside my door till I return. In this photo Taren is watching a family walking their dogs, who has crossed our path. We stop and let them walk ahead. Taren is alert, the hair on his back is bristled, his tail is fluffed. He doesn't bark, but he wants to. I snap this photo to capture the moment, and the light. We go on our way. I rub my hand down his back and tell him he is a good boy. He is my protector.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Day Tripping-Beazel Park

This is one of my favorite photos of puppy Taren. It was taken at Beazel Park. A great place for an easy hike through the woods. As always, Taren wonders why I am down there and he is up here, and he is not happy about it. Look at those huge feet!

Someone said they are having a hard time leaving comments. Is anyone else? If so, what is the problem, and how long has it been going on? I'll fiddle with the settings and see what I can come up with. Sorry about that.

As an aside, as readers do you go back and read the comments? In the past I have answered questions in the comments section, or made remarks to individual commenters. I enjoy doing this, but wonder if anyone reads them. I have quit, feeling likes I may be talking to myself. So, do you read them? If so, I will continue to address comments in that manner.

Thank you to Kevin and Amanda's for the cute gumball machine doodle for my watermark. I collect antique gumball machines so I was pretty happy to stumble upon it.

Choking-So Scared

Caelan is a snuggler. He was sitting right next to me last night, as in glued to my side, chewing on a bone. I watch the boys when they have bones because Taren is a power chewer and can break big pieces off. I am always afraid he is going to choke. Caelan is not near as interested in chewing on bones, he is more interested in the rest of the house, and doesn't break off the large pieces like Taren. Except last night, when he must have broke off a larger, or odd piece.

Taren was standing in front of me, and I was telling him he is the best dog EVER, besides Caelan, and yours, and yours, of course. =0) I heard Caelan make an odd sound, and I turned to look and he was swallowing hard, over and over. I knew it was going to be bad and it was. I started rubbing his throat to see if I could feel an obstruction and help him ease it down. When that did not work, the fear began to set in.

I tell my husband to pick him up and hang him upside down so we could help dislodge the bone. I think my husband thought I was nuts and half hearted tried to comply. Caelan is a big dog. He is above standard in height and weight. Much larger than Taren, and it was not working. Your mind takes you places you do not want to go, and you realize very quickly your dog may die in your living room. I mentally think about the phone number to the E-Vet that I keep in an emergency file on my computer. It dawns on me that I could call, but it would be far too late and that how all this unfolds will be up to my husband and I. My inner mind is running around in circles, flapping it's hands, all the while shrieking and having an epic meltdown. My calm self races upstairs and Googles- dog Heimlich Maneuver, while my husband tries to help Caelan.

I yell down the stairs to pick him up by his back torso, legs off the ground, and shake him to help dislodge the bone. I keep reading, and I am thinking, please, please, please..... do not let this dog die, because I seriously can't do this right now. Can't do this, can't do this, can't do this....

I run down the stairs and try to do the maneuver, afraid to do it, afraid not to do it, afraid I am doing it wrong. It is not helping and Caelan is struggling to swallow. I do not know if he is breathing or not, and I think how much I love this dog, and I have never felt so helpless in my entire life, and please just let this work. You are in a dark place and it's not good. I tell my husband to run up and read about the Heimlich himself, as he is working to dislodge the bone. Then K-K opens his mouth the tongue pops out and you can hear him breathe. He is still swallowing hard, but you are pretty sure it is going to be okay, he is going to be okay.

 He trots over and drinks a bunch of water, and I point a moth out to him and he goes in for the kill and sweet relief courses though my entire body. You have your dog back, long may he and his home wrecking ways live. I on the other hand, feel on the verge of a heart attack, so awful. He continues to swallow hard on and off, and I watch him intently, but I know its over. We go to bed, and he snuggles up tight against me, like he does every night, and I am so thankful he is. Every time he makes a move I am watching and listening in the dark. He finally drifts off to sleep and I have a bit of a good cry, for the love of a dog.

Today he is fine, I am not so sure I am though. I am throwing away all the bones that these pieces break off from. Taren will not be happy. I cannot go through this again, I do not want my dogs to go through this, so we will need to find some new chewers. I do not believe it was a large piece that broke off, just an odd angle. I think K-K just swallowed wrong and it got stuck.

Here is the link to the information I used. I encourage you to read about the Heimlich for dogs and watch the videos that are available on YouTube.  Heimlich Maneuver

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Summer Returns

Summer has decided to have one last blast. The boys are happy about it. They are also hot, squinty, and drooly. Ahhhh Summer, long may you last.  Even as the leaves are starting to change and drift  it seems impossible that summer 2010 is all but faded.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Where Do You Think You Are Going?

Suspicious Weimaraner Puppy

Taren has spent the majority of his life suspicious that you might possibly be going somewhere, and you may not be taking him. Subsequently, I think he spends much of his time trying to figure out how he is going to get around that. He follows me watching for signs. Probably the dead give away is I put on shoes. I am a barefoot kind of gal. I can see the internal debate as to whether he thinks he is going of not. He stands by the door and wags his tail, his whole body really. He gets his infectious grin, and I hate to have to take him upstairs. I usually bribe him with a cookie, more for my sake than his. His whole body slumps and he looks dejected. It makes me feel guilty. Usually he heads up the stairs knowing the routine. Sometimes he lays on the carpet and refuses to budge. Usually a snap of the fingers and a sharp- Taren!, gets him moving, but not always. In those cases you have to dig out the big guns, cheese. I pick my battles. Recently I have had Jury Duty and I have to be gone every Wednesday for eight weeks. He knows the signs, and he is not happy about it. I have long suspected that Taren flirts with the edges of very mild separation anxiety. I fear my Jury Duty may push it over the edge.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Going Bananas

I get an email from my husband this morning asking, Did a dog get my bananas? They were sure beat up. That pretty must sums up what is like at my house most days. I write back and tell him-Yes, a dog had your bananas, but only one bunch. =0)

The dog in question is Caelan. He will not leave the bananas alone. I have wrote about his love before. He takes them out on the deck or behind the A/C unit, peels one, and only one, and eats it. He just mauls the rest. The other day I look over and there is a banana peel in the window frame where he likes to stalk the squirrels. I have to admit to laughing my head off, as it takes you by surprise. What IS that? Oh.....

I moved the bananas from the kitchen table, to the countertop, to a fruit bowl, to the windowsill. He has gotten so tall, there is nowhere safe. Bananas are a funny thing though. Once you move them from the countertop it is out of sight out of mind. You only remember them when they ooze out of your cabinet way passed the point of banana bread. You pray the stems don't break before you get their squishy bodies to the garbage can and unceremoniously plop to the floor. I already use the oven and microwave as a bread box. Can you put them in the fridge? I never have, but I can see them getting shoved back behind the milk and the proverbial science project is born. I really need to come up with a plan, and soon.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

In Red

This photo was taken last summer. Due to his birthing day, this is the third summer we have spent with Taren. Yet he is not quite two and a half. He is well loved, the Frisbee is a gift from his daddy, and the collar sent from my good friend Amber. He is part of our lives and will always be a part of my heart. He has now lost his puppy fat, he is leaner, and has matured. I see how he has come into his own. I also see the passage of time, and it squeezes about my chest, like a pair of jeans two sizes too tight, hot and chafing. I hope to have many, many more summers with my boy. With new toys, bright fun collars, and his silly Weimer ways. He is well loved.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

My Helper



German Shorthaired Pointer

As some of you know I am on my second week of jury duty, six more weeks to go. In an effort to break the ice and pass time I decided to make cookies. If cookies can't get a group of strangers to engage with each other, I don't know what will. The uncomfortable silences are killing me, so let's eat. LOL I dug out my measuring cups and general supplies only to figure out I have no baking soda and not enough butter. *sigh* I have jury duty, I am not suffering the indignity of having to go to the store too. I work out a couple conversions and fast pace it ahead, hoping for the best. The group doesn't know I am making cookies so I figure if they are terrible the long suffering husband, eater of failed experiments past, will have a metric ton of cookies at his disposal. I start to measure out the ingredients and wonder where all my measuring cups went. Then I turn to see where Caelan went, stealer of all things not nailed down. He is on the deck along with two measuring cups, a spatula, butter knife and measuring spoon. His expression indicates he is quite pleased with himself and only too happy to help. I pat my helper on the head, let him keep the chewed up spatula, load the rest in the dishwasher, and drag out some more utensils. The rest of the afternoon goes without issue, with the boys gated off the kitchen.

The cookies were a hit, and for all my misfortune turned out to be really, really yummy. I made peanut butter Butterfinger and chocolate chunk Oreo, and the conversation flowed. I am not sure what I will follow this up with in the coming weeks, but it appears my jury cohorts are eaters.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved



Wrinkle Head

As our pups grow some things change and some remain the same. The white on his nose is barely visible these days. His spots have become darker and pronounced. His eyes are still vibrant amber and he still likes his head propped up. See his shiny head wrinkles? Those my friend, are pure puppy goodness. He still has them, just as shiny, just as soft, but not nearly as deep. He has literally grown into his skin.

Yesterday, besides causing their daily havoc the boys helped earn their keep. I have been leaving the doors open off the deck so Caelan can come and go. He likes to stalk the squirrels and spends a good deal of time doing so. Taren would rather hang out with me. I had been on the phone when I heard a bit of commotion so I went downstairs to see what they were in the process of pillaging and plundering.  Except that is not what they were doing. They were dashing in and out of the house, staring off the deck, and then rushing back to stand on the couch and looking into the side yard. They started barking up a storm, in a tone I had not heard before. I thought it might be the neighbors cat that had wandered up too close to the house. Well, it was a cat all right, MY cat. The one that is an indoors cat that has never set foot outside in the four years I have had him. Not exactly what I was expecting to see as I peered out the window. I do the, gotta go, fling down of the phone and trot out to rescue my freaked out kitty. He was glad to see me, and I was glad my boys let me know he was out there. I hate to think what could have happened otherwise. In all these years the cats have always stayed upstairs so I have never worried about the door being open. When they have even looked like they were going to venture down the stairs the pups herd them back. After that little scare, how we do things around here are going to change.

Baby Taren

If you look carefully in my last photo (below) you will see a puppy in the front with a black collar. That is baby Taren. We went to visit him weeks before we brought him home and took him a new collar and an ID tag with his name on it. It is hard to believe my big strapping boy was ever that little. While it is hard to beat a puppy, I do not miss those sharp little teeth, and the days and nights of potty training. Now we have moved on to bigger and better things. Last night one of the dogs stole a box of Ziplocks off the counter and I had a 150 sandwich baggies all over the living room and backyard. I can imagine they had a blast pulling the baggies out one at a time, much like destuffing their plushies. It took forever to pick them all up, but all in all I find it rather amusing, which I am sure in part is why the continue to be the little menaces they are. They are just doing their part in keeping the momma happy.

Roly-Poly

Can you spot Taren?

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Window To The World

Caelan is a watcher. He spends much of his day watching the world go by. He watches the squirrels, the wild turkey, and the deer. He keeps a close eye on the neighbors cat, too close an eye I think. In the late afternoon he stalks the mail carrier, watching as he fills the boxes. He stands on the back of the couch and watches for his daddy to come home at night. He watches for birds, and he really likes the mothes in the evening. He is pretty big on the spiders too. He likes to stand silently on the deck and watch the neighbors. Which is a step up from when he used to watch and bark at the neighbors. While Caelan is watching the world, I am watching Caelan, and everything feels as it should.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Drool Face

Actions Compliments of Pioneer Woman, Thanks Ree!

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

The Face Of Guilt

I didn't do it, it was those cats.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Hello Ladies

This photo of Taren when he was just a puppy never fails to make me laugh. I have always suspected he was just a human in a dogs body. A somewhat dorky, and goofy human. Here he sits looking Rico Sauve, Hello Ladies, How are you? Fantastic! Except it starts to derail when you notice his scarf is upside down and there is a blade of grass stuck in his mouth. LOL Better luck next time big boy. Momma loves you anyway.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

His Light Shines

There is no greater gift than the love of a childhood friend,who's devotion knows no bounds. No greater sorrow than when they leave our earthbound confines, to wait faithfully till we join them for the ages. With great sadness we say our final goodbye, to my dearest friends, Thumper. Till they meet again, may his light shine through those that remain.

Her Best Boy

"He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; my other ears that hear above the winds. He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea. He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being; by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.) When I am wrong, he is delighted to forgive. When I am angry, he clowns to make me smile. When I am happy, he is joy unbounded. When I am a fool, he ignores it. When I succeed, he brags. Without him, I am only another man. With him, I am all-powerful. He is loyalty itself. He has taught me the meaning of devotion. With him, I know a secret comfort and a private peace. He has brought me understanding where before I was ignorant. His head on my knee can heal my human hurts. His presence by my side is protection against my fears of dark and unknown things. He has promised to wait for me... whenever... wherever - in case I need him. And I expect I will - as I always have. He is just my dog."
~Gene Hill

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Anatomy Of A Shake

I love to watch dogs shake and flap their ears. I really wish as humans we could do the same thing. It looks like it feels great and they always look so pleased with themselves.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones.

Shadowhouse Creations

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Speckled, Spotted, Ticked

German Shorthaired Pointer

Caelan has the best markings. He has socks on all four feet. Mickey Mouse ears on one side. He is spotted, he is solid. His stomach is ticked pink perfection. See that freckled strip running below his chin? That is my favorite marking. Mainly because it's his best kept secret, you rarely know its there. Unless you are family, chances are you would never see it. The skin under his chin has folds, and is as soft as silk. His fur begs to be rubbed and scratched. For his enjoyment, but more so my own.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved