Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
Ellie’s leg woes continue. She’s had a bit of a limp so I took her to the vet today and she thinks it might be a torn ligament. Ellie is getting anti-inflammatory pills for a couple of days and then she will probably have to go back in to see what comes next. She’s isolated to the basement now with no activity, not even a walk, and certainly no hedgehogging.
Poor girl.
Oh Ellie! I giggle every time I look at this picture.
We had a sunny and cold Christmas this year instead of our normal wet or occasional white one. I had been hoping to play with Ellie in the snow since it was playing with Porter from next door in last year’s big snow that started me thinking it was time for us to adopt a dog, but no such luck.
On Tuesday, I checked the weather before heading up to Ridgefield and saw the rain was supposed to make a comeback in the afternoon. It didn’t rain but as I started my last trip around the auto tour at the end of the day, I had to smile at the few flakes that fell, hardly enough to call even a flurry, my first snowflakes of the season. The snow picked up as I drove around but it wasn’t until I got near the end that it was falling hard enough that I started to get a little concerned. After snapping some quick pics of baby nutria and a juvenile heron in the snow, I started for home.
Unfortunately our Subaru is in the shop this week and I was in a rental, so I was without four-wheel drive, but I got home without incident, the roads being fairly clear and getting into our driveway proved the biggest challenge. My timing proved fortuitous as the snow continued to fall through the evening and I just missed the worst of the traffic.
I took Ellie out to play in the snow as soon as I got home, either on our walk or with other dogs in the park or hedgehogging on a snow-covered turf in the backyard. She was having the time of her life and after a couple of hours of vigorous play we called it a night.
Both of us took it pretty easy the next day.
We have all heard of child prodigies, young masters of piano, flute, or violin. Our five-year old prodigy is master of baby hedgehog, able to squeak out pieces of surprising length and complexity. In this case, with Christmas approaching, Ellie squeaks out a fine rendition of Joy to the World.
Unlike many five-year olds, however, ours doesn’t need any encouragement to practice. Several times this week when I’ve gotten home from work I’ve been pelted with baby hedgehog before I can even take off my coat.
While we’re on the subject of pathetic poses, this pose that I’ve dubbed The Running Dog is another Ellie favorite. I had been playing with the cats on the cat tree and she just wanted to be nearby, so she plopped down on the floor and waited quietly until we were finished. She’s sleeping beside me in the same pose at this very moment. Sam is curled up in my lap, Scout is beside us in a warm bed, and although I can’t see her, I’d bet my life that Emma is asleep under the Christmas tree.
“I’ll just lay over here quietly until you finish. Take your time. I’m not bored at all. No please, don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Play with Scout, she deserves your time too.”
(LOUD SIGH)
“It’s a good thing baby hedgehog loves me …”
You might have noticed that this pose is an Ellie specialty. She carries the little hedgehogs all over the house to make sure she doesn’t miss a moment’s opportunity for hedgehoggery.
I don’t mind that Ellie keeps reserves in her bladder so that on our walks in the neighborhood she can leave little cryptic messages to the dogs that follow her. I don’t.
But does she have to call it tweeting?
Halloween is this Saturday. What if a child comes to the door dressed as a baby hedgehog?
No Ellie no!
Saturdays and Sundays in the fall are usually full of football and this weekend was no exception. Saturday morning I hit Ellie on a crossing route and she sprinted untouched into the endzone, dropped the ball (baby hedgehog), and peed on it. There weren’t enough yellow flags in the world to be thrown for this truly unsportsmanlike behavior and, after consultation with league officials, play was halted.
A moot point since the heavens soon poured forth and we headed inside, my wife decided it was a good opportunity to give the whole hedgehog family a good washing. Play resumed on Sunday with no showboating by my star receiver, she brought the ball back to me after each score, like she had been there before.
Good girl, Ellie, good girl.
Breakfast isn’t as simple as it used to be. What I eat hasn’t changed in decades, I mix up a big cold glass of milk and chocolate Carnation Instant Breakfast. The only excitement of the morning was seeing if it would be Templeton or Scout waiting to curl up on me.
But when we adopted Sam and Emma after Templeton died, in addition to the dry kibble we leave out all day, we started treating them with Tiki Cat wet food. As I prepare my breakfast, Sam and Emma circle underneath like ravenous sharks, knowing the treat they are about to receive. Sam like a noisy, ravenous shark driven so mad by hunger that he risks his paws on the forbidden counter. After portioning out equal amounts into their bowls, I walk to the edge of the kitchen were I feed them a few feet apart, careful not to step on them as they swarm about my legs, then step away quickly from the frenzy that ensues. Tiki Cat comes in a variety of interesting flavors, the one pictured here is Hawaiian Grill Ahi Tuna, but we haven’t found one yet that they don’t devour like they haven’t eaten in weeks.
We’ve offered it to Scout as well but she won’t touch wet food and hasn’t since she was a kitten. I’m not sure if she naturally would have or not, but her hero Templeton wouldn’t and that seemed all the justification she needed. But we have discovered some treats to feed her while Sam and Emma gobble down theirs. We’ve long treated the cats with tuna flavored Greenies, a Templeton favorite, but just recently discovered that Scout is the only one who will eat the salmon Greenies shown here. I never would have believed that there is a cat food in this world that Sam won’t eat if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, but it’s true, he won’t touch them. So Scout gets those to herself, she impatiently waits for me to feed Sam and Emma and then I walk her a little ways away for her treats.
And then there’s the recent discovery of Wildside Salmon, little chunks of freeze-dried salmon caught wild in Alaska. Heed my words and dispense with care — these fluffy treats really should be considered a controlled substance — all three cats go bezerk for them. Even mild-mannered Scout devours them with such passion that I worry she might cut me when I run out of treats. When all three cats get them, she’ll even pull a Sammy and eat them out from under the others if they aren’t quick enough, a first for her. I’ve learned in the mornings to get these ready before I feed Sam and Emma their wet food, as otherwise Emma will get distracted when I open the bag and follow me to Scout while Sam sneaks over and eats her Tiki Cat (not a first for Sam).
But you can’t hide a treat from Ellie’s nose, which doesn’t much care if they are treats for cat or dog. When she got a little close to Scout’s salmon treats our normally shy girl got right in Ellie’s face and shouted “Back off dog!” That’s what her hiss meant and both Ellie and I knew it. To keep my little salmon junkie from getting too agitated, I make Ellie wait a safe distance away until Scout has finished eating. If you know how food-crazed Ellie is, you know the strength of the temptation she resists, so her reward for waiting so patiently is one of her favorite treats, the charcoal dog biscuits we keep in a glass container. A sealed glass container, one that neither paw nor jaw can defeat.
And then I sit down to enjoy my breakfast. As much as I can with a black lab staring at me a few feet away with a hedgehog in her mouth, encouraging me to get a move on. Chop chop!
Boolie 