boolie

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.

Ellie Earns Her Freedom

We’ve completed a month of obedience training with Ellie at the Humane Society and have seen a marked improvement in her on-leash behavior. She’s still an excitable girl but her twice daily walks are much more manageable now. Her off-leash behavior is, well, she’s not going to be outside and off-leash anytime soon.

Indoors though she’s been fantastic and gets along well with the cats. Fortunately she’s sleeping on her bed in the basement at the moment, as Sam and Emma are asleep on her bed in my office with Scout a few feet above them in one of the warm beds. Ellie’s been so good with them that this week we’ve allowed her free roam of the house while we’re at work.

We’ve also started letting her up into our bed at night. Like me she’s a real snuggler, so that’s good, but I’m less pleased at the immovable black mass that occupies my spot when I come to bed at night. I naively assumed she’d move over when I climb in. She does not. Sam and Scout don’t always move either, but they also don’t weigh 80 pounds.

Ellie’s a black lab mix but we weren’t sure what makes up the non-lab part of the mix. After observing her for the past month, however, I can definitively state that she was mixed with 100% purebred stomach. After her early adventures with chocolate calcium chews, a tub of caramel, and a jar of dog treats, she has branched out into a block of cheese, potato chips, a batch of muffins my wife baked, a bag of noodles, and a variety of other snacks.

Oh, and some granola bars and breakfast bars in my backpack. Which were in a zipped compartment. She didn’t chew her way in but instead seems to have worked the zippers. Zippers. Zippers!

Who Am I?

Can you guess who owns this feathery back?

I took the picture of the feathers while the heron hunted for fish in the shallows of Rest Lake, then focused on its face when it wheeled around to listen for voles in the grasses on the shoreline.

📷: Canon 20D | Canon 500mm f/4 | Canon 1.4X
🗓️: February 17, 2009

Two Cats, One Dog

I’m on the couch in the basement with little Sam sleeping on my lap, Ellie curled up against both of us, and Emma curled up at Ellie’s feet. All we need is Scout!

Keep Me Away From My Dog

I can’t seem to stop injuring Ellie.

I took her on an extra-long walk today, during the day she had somehow gotten into a sealed jar of treats and ate the whole batch, so I figured she could both use the exercise and an extra chance to do her business. Right at the end of the walk she started falling behind and even labored up the steps to our house, I just figured she was a pooped pooch from the long walk. When I got her inside, I noticed blood on the floor and realized she cut her foot at the end of the walk, it’s the opposite front foot from the one she injured the other day while we were playing ball so it’s a wonder she can walk at all.

It stopped bleeding pretty quickly but I’m feeling a little cursed. Fortunately she bears no grudges, when I get home from work the three cats greet me at the door and after playing with them a bit, I go downstairs and there’s Ellie with her tail wagging in furious delight.

Emma is once again reveling in the electric warmth of the heated bed so last night’s foray was not a fluke. Fortunately Scout has preferred the window seat in the living room the past couple of nights as she will not be too pleased when she discovers there’s no room in the inn.

There’s plenty of room in Ellie’s bed Miss Scout.

I Broke My Dog! I Broke My Dog!

Today was a shutdown day at work, so instead of my usual workday routine here is how the day unfolded:

Sleep in with the cats all around me
Play with Ellie
Play with the cats
Play with Ellie
Eat lunch
Play with Ellie
Take Ellie to obedience training
Play with Ellie
Take Ellie for a walk
Play with the cats

Except in between playing with Ellie and taking her for a walk, there was a vet visit. We were playing ball in the backyard when all of a sudden she came up limp with her left paw hanging lifelessly and all I could think was “I broke my dog! I broke my dog!”

The vet was able to see her right away and as we walked her down to the car she was able to put weight on it, so I started to breathe a little easier. The vet gave her a good checkup and while we don’t know exactly what happened, it doesn’t appear to be serious so she may have just sprained her ankle.

She gets a week of taking it easy so we can watch for signs of trouble, which means no horseplay. Ellie tried to convince me that the vet actually said “mo’ horseplay”. Bless your heart Ellie, I can’t fault you for trying, but I didn’t just fall off a turnip truck. She and my wife are sleeping in the basement while Scout and Emma are snoring in harmony beside me.

Leave It To Ellie

Today was our first day of obedience training at the Humane Society, we focused on getting Ellie to answer to her name and to obey our “Leave It” commands. Our star pupil did very well and since I’m off tomorrow (one of our mandatory shutdown days this quarter), it will be a good day to practice what we learned.

We’ve been curled up asleep on the dog bed in my office, a little reward for the both of us.

A Super Weekend

This past week we’ve made good progress on our slow introduction of Ellie to our world. She has free reign of the house as long as we’re home and this weekend was allowed to join us in the bedroom for the first time. No cats were eaten!

In fact, the cats continued to sleep on us just as they always have, with Ellie beside our bed on the dog bed my wife made for her. To show you just how well I know my cats, I thought the order of Ellie acceptance would go Scout -> Sam -> Emma. Exactly how it happened, except I got the order backwards.

The other day when my wife had the morning off, she and Ellie joined me on my walk to the train station. When it was time to part ways, I walked off and looked back to see her staring with such sorrow that you’d think I was drifting off to sea. It’s a cold soul that can turn from such a longing gaze but I knew the warm welcome I’d receive at the end of the day. Oh how her tail wags!

Some Advice For Our Dear Ellie

You don’t have to do everything little Sam says. While I applaud his use of the scientific method, after getting into chocolate you didn’t have to eat a tub of caramel just because he wanted to see if your poop would smell like Twix bars. (In the interest of science, the answer is no. No it did not.)
You don’t have to believe everything Scout tells you. When she told you that she is the only one who didn’t come from the Humane Society, that was true. But when she told you that she didn’t come from the Humane Society but instead hatched from an eagle’s egg high atop a Sitka spruce, that was not.
In a similar vein, she’s missing fur on her foreleg because they shaved it at the vet, not because she gave a grizzly bear the what for.
And please, please don’t listen to Emma when she asks you to bring back a tree when we take you for a walk. It’s only ten more months until Christmas. She can wait like the rest of us.

Dark Chocolate & Caramel

What happens when your dog eats a whole tub of caramel? I don’t know but we’re about to find out!

In all seriousness, I did call the emergency vet when I got home, she should be fine but with vomiting and diarrhea, oh joy!

Ellie dear, this is not the way to weight loss!