boolie

Some Toys Should Come with a Warning

A few months back my wife picked up this hedgehog from Plush Puppies for our dog Ellie. If you bite its head it squeaks (who wouldn’t?), it grunts when you bite its hindquarters, and it even rattles when you shake it all about.

My advice to Plush Puppies? Put a warning label on your toy!

Something like:

Warning: After she plays with hedgehog, your dog will abandon all other toys. When you throw dear old goose, her first and favorite toy, she will look at you like you just stepped off the moon. Rabbit had a brief moment in the sun but no more. Poor mallard and pheasant never had a chance. It’s all hedgehog, all the time.

I have to say I’m surprised by how much she loves it. Goose was such a natural fit, it squeaks easily — Ellie has turned carry-and-squeak into an art form — and is the sort of quarry for which retrievers were bred. The round shape of the hedgehog makes it harder for her to carry and squeak at the same time, she often has to stop and place it on the ground for a proper squeaking before continuing. And I doubt very much that a dog has ever retrieved a hedgehog in real life.

But whatever it is, the hedgehog has it.

The Long Arm of the Paw

Little Sam likes to sleep tucked down in crevices. The other morning when I woke on my back with my left arm kinked by my side, Sam was snuggled in tight between my arm and chest. If I’m on my side he’ll tuck in behind my knees, and if I roll over slowly enough he’ll move with me in real-time, tucked in tight. When I’m sitting in my comfy chair, I usually drape a blanket over my legs so he can hang down between them, a favorite spot of his ever since we brought him home as a little kitten. He likes to sleep on my chest too, but since this is Scout’s favorite spot, it’s a good thing he doesn’t mind snuggling up elsewhere.

It’s led to many an evening where I’m laying in my chair with Scout asleep on my chest and Sam asleep on my legs, the two stretched out nose-to-tail, me covered in kittens. Since I can’t get up, I make my wife bring me my food and refill my glass. It’s not that I enjoy being waited on, but what else can I do? Wake them?

Queen of Scoutland

I told you the ways of Emma were spreading. Scout usually circle sleeps in the warm beds but couldn’t resist poking her head out to watch the animal circus that was milling about my office.

Her favorite game is to be chased, Templeton was always good about it but with me she has to stop periodically and wait for me to catch up before sprinting away again. In general though Scout’s more lover than fighter and prefers snuggling to roughhousing. She used to play with Templeton but just as often enjoyed watching the two of us play. Maybe her youthful companions are rubbing off on her as lately Sam and Emma aren’t the only ones enjoying a rousing game of String. It started a few weeks back with a half-hearted attempt to catch the string then suddenly Scout was all claws and motion, rolling across the hardwood with arms flailing in pursuit.

The other night I was working in my office when I heard Emma running helter skelter in the next room, tossing her furry mice across the room and then pouncing in full fury. I got up to watch her and was surprised to see her sleeping in one of the warm beds. I crept into the hallway and peered around the corner and witnessed Scout in zealous fervor waging war on the infidels. Over the weekend she joined Sam and I in a game of mouse-on-a-wire, she’s watched us many a time but this was her first time leaving the sidelines and joining the fray.

And I’ve noticed a few times lately a cat cabal cruising the midnight hours with Scout on point. But her admirers aren’t limited to the likes of cats and men. The other night when I crawled into bed, our dog Ellie curled up against my legs and laid her head across my knees. When Scout took her usual spot on my chest, Ellie crept up in the darkness and laid her head beside Scout. It was such a sweet moment that I lay awake for a while listening to them breathing inches apart. I slowly drifted into sleep until I woke when Scout hopped off me and ran off to play with Sam. My feelings were only slightly hurt when Ellie immediately inched back down and lay across my knees.

It’s hard to compete with the Queen of Scoutland.

Put Your Dog On My Shoulder

A couple of times recently, Ellie has curled up next to me in bed and put her head under mine. What a sweet girl!

There is other good news on the Ellie front. My wife took her in to get her weighed the other day and she’s right at her target weight of 70 pounds! This despite her continuing dietary adventures (her latest: a sealed tub of pistachios, a few slices of bread, and an unsuccessful attempt at a tub of mini wheats).

The vet was pleased and suggested we up her meals from one cup of dry food to a cup and a half. Ellie was so happy she spent the entire day running around singing “Victory in Jesus”. A bit over the top I thought but our girl does love her food.

Love Comes Tumbling

Ellie continues to confound with her dietary adventures, somehow opening a tupperware tub of freshly baked chocolate raisin cookies and devouring every last crumb, maintaining her perfect attendance in the clean plate club. But dear Ellie, not freshly baked cookies! Not freshly baked! If you must eat cookies, stick to the store-bought kind!

A day or two later she broke open a bag of cat treats and finished those off, followed later by the supplements she takes for joint health. If only the cats were so eager to take their medicine!

While walking her at night earlier in the week, she had so much energy I ran with her a bit. We ran past the houses in one section of the neighborhood where the tall trees block the streetlights, where the roots of the tall trees broke up the sidewalk, where I tripped on the broken sidewalk and faceplanted into the concrete.

I landed hard but was able to get my hands out in front of me, the ground knocking out the doggie treat I was holding. I wasn’t surprised that Ellie sniffed out the treat in the darkness and gobbled it down before checking to see if I was OK. My palms took the brunt of the damage and got skinned up pretty badly, as well as the top of my right hand. My left knee and right elbow were badly bruised but not bleeding.

After the first night the swelling went down and it was clear there was no permanent damage. The wounds are healing rapidly and the pain subdued with ibuprofen. It was a lovely weekend but I didn’t do any yardwork apart from mowing as I can’t put any hard pressure on my palms yet, but that left extra time to play catch with the tennis ball in the backyard with Ellie, a fair trade.

This picture of Ellie is from earlier in the year, you can see a bit of white paint on her neck. All of the paint spots are gone now, apart from a bit on her tail, the fur there must shed more slowly.

I’m Ever So Happy. Seriously. I Am.

One thing I hadn’t anticipated is how much harder it is to get a good picture of Ellie compared to the cats. A trained chimp could point a camera at little Sam and get a nice picture but I’ve been struggling with Ellie. I expected it to be hard to photograph her black fur but hadn’t accounted for the difficulties of her larger size and how sad she looks when she’s relaxed. She’s holding one of her favorite toys, a plush rabbit that squeaks when she bites it. She has a similar goose that was her first toy and remains a favorite. When you toss them, our retriever loves to bring them back, and especially loves to bring them back squeaking all the way.

The other day Ellie had a roast. Not the sort of roast where we’d make fun of how she snores, but a pot roast kind of roast. The kind of roast that I was going to eat later. Somehow while we were enjoying the roast for dinner the leftovers disappeared from the counter upstairs.

And some leftover bacon a short while later and a tub of cookies last week. Fortunately there were no gastric disasters as a result of her dietary indiscretions. We were prepared to interrogate her when her legal counsel stepped in and told her not to say another word. Little Sam said we had no evidence that Ellie had actually eaten all of these things, for all we knew he had done it. The bacon, perhaps, but even he couldn’t eat that much roast, and the tub of cookies was bigger than he is. He then claimed that perhaps I had eaten all of these things and was blaming it on Ellie.

The outrage! I could eat that much roast but not that fast (some here say I’m a slow eater), so what jury would believe such a story? Sam pointed out that there is prior precedent, a certain night in which a batch of strawberries freshly dipped in chocolate didn’t live to see the morning. An offense for which I admit my guilt, and which I also admit could cause reasonable doubt in a jury.

All charges against Ellie have been dropped.

Where’s Boolie 2009

This year’s version of Where’s Boolie comes courtesy of a large redwood tree in Prairie Creek Redwood State Park. This was my first morning in the park and the tree sits right off the Prairie Creek Trail with a cavity in the middle suitable for housing an entire bigfoot family.

I had to smile when I heard a distant hooting that morning, probably an unfamiliar owl or other bird, but it also reminded me of the supposed bigfoot calls from I show I watched a while back. I hoped with camera in hand to get some nice high-resolution, in focus, non-shaky bigfoot pictures but it was not to be. It would have been the perfect time to prove my theory on the true nature of bigfoot.

It is not a popular theory and has put me on the fringe of the lunatic fringe. I believe that they are not some form of ape running undiscovered in our forests — I mean seriously — but that they are in fact Wookiees.

My critics are quick to point out that Star Wars is fictional. I know it’s fictional — I’m not an idiot. I just don’t understand how it’s relevant. To Kill a Mockingbird is fictional. Are mockingbirds fictional too?

Emma Sleeps to the Beat of a Different Drummer

After Templeton died a year and a half ago, we went to the Humane Society to pick out another cat. It’s always hard to choose from so many animals who need a good home but I was leaning towards a black cat since I think they are beautiful but had never had one. Emma had lived in a multiple cat household before and I liked the way she was sprawled out as she slept — something Templeton used to do — so we requested to see her after we had selected little Sam. She was more nervous than Sam but seemed sweet so we decided to bring both of them home.

It took a year and a half but now that Emma has discovered the warm beds, she is often curled up in them in a circle like all the other cats. But she also frequently sticks a paw out and on this one occasion had an entire leg sticking askew. Just this afternoon I saw Scout, our tidy sleeper, with one paw sticking out.

The ways of Emma are spreading.

Lady Em

I’m thankful for many things in my life and one of those things is our dear Emma. She’s a quiet cat like Scout but she chirps rather than meows. She plays frequently with Sam but also plays on her own, her favorite game is shoving her furry mice under the closet door. I empty it out several times a day but after only a few minutes the mice are mysteriously once again behind the door. We are looking to hire someone full time to empty the closet but the job pays only in purrs. Emma doesn’t give up her purrs easily and they are so soft as to be nearly inaudible, so when you hear them you know you’ve earned them.

She’s not a lap cat like the others — although to be fair Scout wasn’t a lap cat at her age either — but she is affectionate. She discovered the magic of the heated beds a couple of months ago and has been a regular visitor to their electric warmth ever since. I’ve photographed all of the cats in the beds at one time or another so I was happy to finally get a shot of Emma as she poked her head out of the bed.

A King, A King, My Bedroom For A King

A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!
King Richard in Shakespeare’s Richard III

Ellie had an upset stomach this past week which led to a rather unfortunate if prodigious emptying of her bowels in the living room. The vet suggested we switch her to a bland diet of rice and cooked meat (no bernaise sauce) for a few days and thankfully there have been no more incidents. Erring on the safe side, we isolated her to the easily-cleanable part of the basement while we were at work and at night while we slept. She didn’t mind the imposition while we were gone but our champion snuggler was not pleased about the loss of bed privileges at night.

The morning after she had to be encouraged to eat (a surer sign of the apocalypse than any four horsemen) but otherwise her appetite has been fine. Her energy level and spirits have also been high the whole time and today we started slowly working her regular food back into her diet. So far so good!

She was allowed to rejoin us in bed at night after a few days of no accidents and I’m happy to report that she now moves over when I come to bed at night. I can’t say if her banishment to solitary affected the change but regardless I’m no longer wishing for a king-sized bed.