why TGIF means "thank God it's february"...

I did not intend to disappear for the entire month of January. But sometimes life gets hard and it takes everything you've got to trudge through one more day.

That's how it was for me. And I'm so glad that the month is OVER!!

In addition to my health issues continuing to beat me down, I also found out - just a few days after Christmas - that Claire had a malignant tumor on her paw. She had surgery during the first week of January to remove it, and I was supposed to hear the pathology results a few days later, but the lab was closed for the holidays. During her recovery, she managed to rip her stitches out, despite wearing the Cone of Shame while I was at work. I came home and found little bits of her cast all over the house before realizing the bigger issue: ripping the stitches out had allowed the wound to gape open, exposing her bone. I rushed her to the hospital immediately and she underwent a second surgery to debride, flush, and pack the wound before stitching it up again. I didn't let her out of my sight for the next 12 days to give it time to heal. Of course, on Day 13, when I went into the office, I came home to find that she had managed to rip out the stitches again despite wearing TWO Cones of Shame at the same time. We rushed back to the vet, but thankfully the surgical site had healed enough where she didn't need to undergo a third surgery. By that point, the only open part was the top layer of skin, so that healed after a week of hydrotherapy and some good bandaging by yours truly.

Tough recovery, I'm telling you!

Additionally, I didn't get the pathology results back until just a week ago - exactly one month after the tumor was removed. Thankfully, they managed to get all of it and she does not need to undergo radiation or chemotherapy. I don't think I realized just how much the What Ifs were worrying me; when I heard the results, I literally felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders.

After all that, however, Princess Claire has a paw that is as good as new! The beginning of this week was a bit stressful for her as we got back into our normal routine. After being with her almost 24/7 for a month, she had a little separation anxiety for the first few days that she was left alone. She seems to be feeling a bit more confident now, but realistically, it may take a little longer for her to feel 100% while I'm at work.

My intent over the next few months is to get back to blogging on a regular basis. Of course, this all depends on how I'm feeling physically, but I'm finally feeling well enough to start doing other things rather than just work and sleep! Good thing that Claire is a snugglebug. I swear, even as I was taking care of her over the past month, she still managed to take care of me.

What a good dog :)

last week's headlines.

Headlines from the past week include:

1.  Claire meets the neighbors!

2.  Claire gets beaten up by a cat!

3.  Claire watches the Red Sox!

4.  Claire takes over the car!

5.  Claire continues to swim!

I've been letting Claire roam around the front yard over my lunch break because, well, she needs to be able to run and explore, and most people are at work during the day so there are even less cars running through our quiet neighborhood. Last week I attempted to play frisbee with her, but I'm apparently too boring, so she trotted over to my neighbors yard to sniff around their bushes for rabbits. As I called her to come to me, my neighbor opened the door to say hi and Claire just waltzed right in. My neighbor thought this was hysterical and didn't mind at all, so as we caught up, Claire explored her house. Every so often, she'd come back to the front door to check in with me, and then she'd run off to explore their house some more. At one point, I asked where she went and my neighbor found her snuggling on her daughter's bed among her stuffed animals...

In other news, my mother's forsythia is a hiding place for the neighborhood cats. Claire stumbled upon them one day and tried to engage them in playtime. She wasn't catching on that the hissing wasn't an invitation, and she was ignoring me as I told her to leave it. In an split second, one of the cats swiped her across the face and scared the hell out of her. I think it's safe to say that she's learned her lesson and gives the cats a wide berth when crossing their path now. We'll see how long this lasts before they have to teach her another lesson. In all fairness, she did get a variety of warnings...

Massachusetts is, of course, a state that mainly consists of Red Sox fans. If there's a game on, you can bet we're watching it in my mom's household. The Sox played the Yankees (boo) a few days ago and Claire joined my mom and her boyfriend to watch our team win. Please note that while she got to sit on the couch, I was relegated to the floor -- which is also where I am sitting currently as she snuggles with the fam once again. Super! (Also, check it out: the furniture is still covered haha!)

With the car trouble that I've had lately, a family friend offered to help out and fix what he could while I'm home -- especially before I make the 19-21 hour drive back to Nashville in a few weeks. In addition to installing new brakes, fixing a broken visor, rotating the tires, and completing a 60K check, he changed my cabin air filter. Now please, don't judge me -- think of who my main passenger is! Can you imagine what the inside of my car looks like if this is what the air filter looks like? Can you imagine what my LUNGS look like if this is what the air filter looks like? Good grief...

Claire and I took a very long walk on the beach over the weekend. It was the PERFECT day in terms of weather, I was feeling great, and Claire was ready to get moving. I drove down to the beach and we walked a few miles before stopping for a swim. It still takes her a little while to get used to the waves rolling in before she goes swimming, but after running along the shore for a few minutes, she's brave enough to bound in. Rumor has it that people have spotted some sharks off the coast, so hopefully neither of us will run into them over the next few weeks. I'm not a fan of JAWS reinactments -- though I'm sure Claire could take 'em, I don't want the chance to find out! Here's my happy girl walking along the jetty right before our swim:

 

projects and painting and planning, oh my!

A title like that can only mean one thing: Mom was in town! She came for a visit this weekend and whipped our house into shape with nine million projects that were able to be completed in a mere 72 hours - and she still made sure that we had time to go out to eat with friends! I am jealous of her energy, especially since it takes me a solid five cups of coffee before I am even 25% as efficient as she is with her time! I don't know how she does it, but I'm hoping she'll share her secret with me someday!

The house projects were as follows:

-- hang up the kitchen curtains that have been sitting in storage for a year

-- hang up the guest room curtains that have been sitting in storage for two years

-- caulk and repair the corner of the cabinet that Claire destroyed from the act of busting out of her kennel when we first moved in... which took place back in 2010

-- caulk and repair the window frame in my bedroom that was damaged during the Break-In of 2011

-- buy new frames for pictures

-- hang up two pictures

-- touch up the paint on the walls in the kitchen

-- touch up the paint on the walls in the living room

-- touch up the paint on the walls in my bedroom

-- touch up the paint on the walls in the guest room [which turned into repainting the whole room because we bought the wrong paint color and didn't realize until it was too late]

-- clean out the shed so my friend can store her things there while she's out of the country

-- search for the Missing Suitcase [this was the one thing that was unsuccessful]

-- decorate the bathroom

Claire was a rockstar this weekend. I really wanted to be able to take her hiking with my mom and me, but as you can see from the aforementioned list [which is not comprehensive, by the way], there wasn't enough time! It was also really hot and humid this weekend, so it wasn't the best hiking weather anyway. So Claire hung out with us while we worked on these projects, and she was happy doing just that: hanging out with us [and getting some treats while doing so, like coconut milk ice cream and fresh strawberries]. The paint made her sneeze, though, so she laid by the bedroom door while we worked in the guest room. That didn't stop her from trying to help out by rubbing up against the freshly painted wall...

Oh, my dog? She's the one that's black and white with a gray butt.

Claire and Mumsies!

the mess of a monday morning.

Sorry about our unexpected hiatus from the blogging world - I've been sick for the past few weeks (so typical) and so Little One spent a bit more time at Bark-O-Lounge than usual. I'd like to think that I'm on the mend now, however, so we're getting back into our groove. And of course we had to come back with a bang...

I was running late for work this morning, so while I rushed around the kitchen throwing together breakfast and lunch, I let Claire into the backyard for a few minutes. I was keeping an eye on her out the kitchen window, and I saw her start digging by the shed. It's rained for the past million days, so I ran outside to tell her to stop playing in the mud and come inside so I could clean her up before I left for work. As I ran outside, however, I saw Claire wagging her tail like crazy and puppy-bow at something. I looked around the corner to see who/what she had befriended juuuust in time to see her get sprayed by a skunk. She yelped and then began rolling around in the mud - possibly to get the smell off? or to get it further embedded in her fur? I'm not sure what the purpose of that was, but she was a hot mess.

When I finally managed to wrangle her inside, I put her in the bathroom while I tried to find some tomato sauce. Does anyone even own plain boring tomato sauce? I mean, I had a variety of name-brand options. Four cheese, sweet basil marinara, vodka sauce, spicy red pepper, etc. I grabbed a jar of the sweet basil and dumped it all over her. For a girl who isn't a fan of the bath in general, why would she like getting scrubbed with tomato sauce? Before I knew it, she leapt into me, covering me with marinara, and then started running around the house. I ran after her and tried to grab her, but she thought we were playing a game of chase, so she took off just as I got close enough to catch her. Then she stopped in the dead center of the kitchen and shook sauce and mud all over the place. I managed to get ahold of her mid-shake and carried her back to the tub so I could finish giving her a bath.

At this point, I was ridiculously late for work but I was a disaster - as was my house. I managed to take a quick shower, change clothes, clean up the kitchen, throw all of the towels into the washing machine, and run out the door in less than 15 minutes. Claire was sulking on the couch when I left, likely for ruining her fun with a bath, but hey, at least she was clean and smelling like an Italian side dish.

   

three's a crowd.

Claire and I had the privilege of hanging out with Chase this weekend while Alexandra and Josh went out of town. Let me just say: we both love this dog. He is such a sweetheart, and he and Claire are completely in love. You can practically see the hearts in their eyes when they look at each other. I mean, they spent the first hour of their reunification licking each other's muzzles and nuzzling. So cute. After that, they played nonstop from Friday night through Sunday morning. Seriously. When we got home on Sunday afternoon, Claire put herself straight to bed and slept clear through Monday morning -- it's like she had a complete puppy hangover from having so much fun.

I have learned, however, that Claire brings out the mischievous side of Chase. Because of that, I know that one eye and one ear has to be on them at all times. Like, even when I take fifteen minutes to shower. I left the door to the bathroom open so that I could hear them if they got into something that they shouldn't. I had just finished working up a good shampoo lather when I saw a little black nose move aside the curtain. And then a brown muzzle. I pulled aside the curtain and, for lack of a better word, I exclaimed Chase's name... and he took the liberty to jump into the bath tub. I became somewhat frantic (and may have started cursing, as well), which brought Claire running into the bathroom. As you may recall, Claire hates getting a bath. So naturally, the last thing I expected her to do was to jump into the bath tub too. Which is exactly what she did. I'm pretty sure that was when I started screaming. I leapt out of the shower to shut the door to the bathroom so that the two wet dogs wouldn't go galavanting through the house, and then I somehow managed to grab towels while simultaneously turning off the shower. Once I dried them off really well, I put them outside in the backyard so they could sunbathe.

I wasn't planning on telling Alexandra and Josh because it would've been way more fun for them to find out while reading this post. However, I saw Alexandra at the park yesterday, and she asked if I gave Chase a bath and brushed him because he looked all handsome and clean, so I had to 'fess up...
   

wild goose chase.

Claire and I went over to my friend Katie's house one day last week so that she could play with Katie's two dogs, Rylee and Holly, while we ate dinner and engaged in some good ol' girl talk. Claire was not in the most playful mood, however, so she pouted by the door for the majority of the evening [it was just one of those days, I guess]. Katie suggested that we take the dogs for a walk, and I was hopeful that Claire would snap out of her bad mood with some time outside.

Part of our walk took us down a pretty steep hill [and yes, it was steep, Katie!]. I was wearing some flats that were awfully cute but were probably not the best for trekking down hills, so when I realized that I was going to have to side-step the whole way, I let Claire off her leash so that I wouldn't sprain my ankle if she started pulling.

I was carefully making my way down the hill, when Claire spotted something in the distance and, of course, took off. I half-heartedly called for her, mainly because I was trying not to fall, and I figured that once I finally made it to the bottom, I could put some more gusto into it. I didn't have to wonder what she was chasing for too long, however, because she circled back towards us in hot pursuit of one very angry Canadian goose. The goose flew towards its flock - which was just a little ways away from me and Katie - and when they all saw Claire running at them, they half waddled and half flew right at us [for the record, it's extremely frightening to have a flock of angry geese flying straight at you]. Though most of the geese made it a safe distance away from Claire in one piece, she was right on the tail of one of them. She was so focused on capturing this prize, that she didn't look where she was going, and she ran into a drainage ditch that was full of stagnant water and - what else? - goose poop. That didn't stop her, though, and so Katie and I watched as she leapt through this mixture of nastiness after the goose.

By this time, I had finally reached the bottom of the hill, and Katie and I were busy running after Claire. [We also ran past a guy who was busy filming the whole thing on his camera]. When we finally caught her, she smelled absolutely awful because she was covered - head to tail - in thick black sludge from the drainage ditch. We somehow managed to get her back to Katie's apartment and dump her in the tub for a good scrubbing, which took a great deal of effort on both our parts.

So, to date, Claire has gone after a chicken, numerous squirrels, a bird, a few rabbits, and now a goose. I can't even imagine what's next.

  

  

oh, the (adorable) irony.

Claire's curious nature is so endearing to me, but I've got to keep an eye on her at all times. It doesn't take much for her curiosity to bloom into mischievousness, and it only takes a split second for her to find something to get into that she should be leaving alone. It's been so hot lately that we haven't been able to spend much time together outside, which has been making her a bit restless. Restlessness - in Claire - means trouble. I attempted to brave the heat for a mere five minutes last week so that I could take her for a little stroll around the yard [I was sweating within ten seconds of stepping outside, by the way]. She stopped by the porch and started sniffing around, which I didn't think much of, at first. But then she started nosing aside some dead grass... and I heard a squeak. When I saw something rustle in the grass, I instantly took Claire into the house so that I could take a closer look without her prey drive gearing up and getting out of control. When I moved aside the grass, I found these little munchkins:

Baby bunnies!!

I have to confess that my first thought was "What ARE you?!" Can you tell that I didn't grow up around animals?! I'm not proud to admit that at first I thought they were baby mice. Obviously, I quickly scratched that because of the lack of a long tail. Then I guessed that they might be baby moles. But then I remembered that Claire had scared off a rabbit from the same spot earlier this morning [that was the ah-ha! moment]. I've checked on Claire's bunnies over the past few days, and they're doing really well - they have finally opened their eyes and now they have more fur! We had a terrible rainstorm last night, however, and I stayed awake worrying that their burrow would collapse, and now I'm afraid to go check on them again because my heart would break if they didn't survive [maybe this is why my mom never allowed us to have any pets].

For those of you who have followed the blog for awhile and/or followed me on Twitter, I'm sure you've seen my posts/tweets about Claire's rabbit obsession. I completely realize that it's absurd to be so concerned about these little bunnies when they'll eventually grow up to torment Claire, in turn tormenting me when she freaks out at spotting them through the kitchen window. But they're just so cute and tiny right now! I can't help it! Ugh. I am such a girl.

   

stubbornness apparently runs in the family.

Claire was ornery today. Maybe it was because I left her at home for a couple hours while I went canoeing, or maybe it's because she's three and feels like she can be a big girl and do things by herself. Who knows. But when we were at the river this afternoon, she out and out disobeyed me by swimming across the river and scaling a cliff. It was only about seven feet high, but still. I saw her gazing longingly toward it beforehand and told her to leave it, and though she looked right at me, she still went and did it anyway. I called and called for her to come back down, but she didn't even acknowledge me until I told her that I was going to go home.

It wasn't until she started barking and crying that I realized that she was stuck and couldn't figure out how to get down - which is when I got scared. So I just jumped right in (fully clothed with sneakers on), swam across the river, climbed halfway up the cliff, and somehow managed to persuade her to jump into my arms so that I could carry her down. And then I didn't trust her to follow me to the car, so I carried her there, sopping wet, sneakers squishing all the way.

Now she's happily laying on the couch gnawing on a marrow bone without a care in the world. She doesn't even remember that just an hour ago, I risked my life in snake-infested waters to carry her to safety! But you know what? It's fine - because she's back on river restriction until she remembers how to do an excellent recall. Which we will start working on tomorrow.
 

the exercise junky and busy intellectual.

One of my favorite magazines is Modern Dog - I love it so much that not only do I get a copy in my mailbox, but I also subscribe to their emails. A few days ago, they sent this:

How to Bring Out the Best in Your Dog - Activities to Suit Every Type

Every dog has his game. Identify your dog in the list below for activity ideas to match his particular personality and turn his crank, hence making him a happier (and easier to get along with!) housemate.

• The Exercise Junky (EJ) can be a demanding, pushy, and obnoxious housemate, especially without his daily run. This dog is a perpetual motion machine, rarely relaxing on his own.
• The Busy Intellectual (BI) is a canine-stein who specializes in finding the optimal angle to pull out the security lock on the dog-proof garbage can, and who can open all the baby gates in the house.
• The Lone Wolf (LW) is completely on her own agenda, a bit like the high school loner who just seemed to march to his own tune.
• The Couch Potato (CP) is at the other end of the spectrum from EJ. She may have attracted you because of her cuddle-bug personality, and definitely isn't hankering for a long distance run.

Claire is a mix of EJ and BI, which is why she keeps me so busy. When I was thinking of adopting a dog, I knew that I wanted one who would help me be more active. Claire definitely fits that picture. She only relaxes after she's had ample play time and exercise. And even then, she keeps me on my toes with her mischievousness. If I were to categorize myself with the descriptions above, I would have to say that, in the three years I've had her, I went from a couch potato to an EJ/BI myself. And that's only one of the ways in which Claire has turned me into a healthier person! But more on that later... :)
  
 

pushing the limits.

My schedule has been a little ...different... lately due to unexpected circumstances, so I have been able to spend a lot of extra time with Claire. And this time with her is such a blessing amidst much the chaos and confusion. The better part of our days have been spent at the park and the river, and Claire has gotten pretty bold throughout her adventures. Her new game involves swimming across the creek, jumping up the riverbank, and going to explore the woods. I wouldn't have such a problem with this if she would come when called, but lately she looks at me - from the other side of the river, mind you - like, "Mo-om, this is soooo not a big deal - I'll be back later" before she turns away and continues exploring. NOT OKAY!!!! After two days in a row of such behavior, the Little Miss has been placed on river restriction. What does this mean, you ask? Basically: she's grounded.

  

where there's a will...

The other day, when Claire and I were heading home from the park, I stopped to pick up lunch at a cafe near my house because I was absolutely starving and was sure that I couldn't make it home without sustenance. I had placed my order on the way, since I hate leaving Claire in the car - she doesn't just lay down and wait for me, she practically presses her nose up against the window and looks panicked until I return [it's pitiful]. While I was waiting in line to pick up my order, I kept my eyes on the car to make sure that Claire was coping well during this very brief time apart.

I had left the sunroof open so that she could stick her nose out, since leaving this open while I ran into the cafe was a much better option than leaving the windows down; I'm well aware that she would jump right out and go explore [I learned my lesson the first time, thank you very much]. Claire has never been able to jump out of the sunroof, so I thought this was a pretty safe bet. She has tried before, but she doesn't have enough of a step up from the center console.

I got a little nervous while waiting in line when I saw the squirrel stop on the sidewalk right in front of my car. I got a little more nervous when I saw Claire hone in on it while she sat in the passengers seat - she had the Hunter's Gaze: ears up, body leaning forward, eyes focused on the prey. And my anxiety kicked in when I saw her start to jump around the car, occasionally popping her head up through the sunroof as if trying to judge the distance that she would need to jump to get herself through.

And then she actually did it.

In a split second, she managed to jump high enough to go through the open sunroof and land on the little ledge where the roof of my car meets the windshield. She teetered there briefly before bounding onto the hood and then on to the sidewalk where the chase began. At that point, I bolted out of the store and ran after her through the parking lot and around the side of the building as she chased the squirrel.

I finally caught her when the squirrel ran up a tree; Claire was jumping and barking at the base of it, causing a huge scene - though probably a little less of a scene than she caused when she jumped out of the sunroof to begin with. My face was on fire and I was so very embarrassed by the whole thing that I just picked her up and carried all fifty pounds of her back to the car. And then we left, sandwich-less and squirrel-less. And you can bet that I drove with the sunroof closed all the way home.

When will I ever learn that where there's a will, there's a way? Nothing stops this girl from trying! One thing is for sure: she continues to teach me about persistence...

   

the shortest distance between A and B is always a straight line.

I have been home sick since Wednesday. One thing that you need to know about me: I hate being sick. I'd much rather use my sick time for "mental health" days, because then it can be quite enjoyable. But using sick time when you're actually sick is NO FUN AT ALL. I've slept the past 48 hours away, and my head hurt so bad from this sinus infection that I couldn't watch TV or use my laptop. Thankfully my headache has eased up today, which is why you get to read this new blog post - lucky you!

I dragged myself out of bed on Wednesday morning so that I could take Claire to daycare. She's very sweet and snuggly when I'm sick, but that only lasts a couple hours. Then she wants to play. And I needed to sleep. When I dropped her off, she was a little reluctant to leave my side, but once Stacey and I assured her that I was just going to go rest while she had fun with her friends, she was all right. I drove home, climbed back into bed, and slept for the next nine hours.

Claire was very happy to see me when I went to pick her up - she squealed, she jumped, she kissed me... the whole nine yards. [I love it! It never gets old!!] I don't put a leash on her to get her from the front door of the daycare to the car because it's such a short distance and she usually just hops right in the front seat. But on Wednesday night, she smelled something interesting and followed it  through the hedges into the next yard.

I walked down the hill to go around the hedges, and I spotted Claire on the other side of the neighbor's driveway. Now [picture this with me], their yard is on a hill, so on both sides of their driveway, they have walls that are level with the top of their parked cars. I was standing next to one wall, and Claire was across from me near the other. I called for Claire and told her that it was time to go home and eat dinner. She stopped in her tracks and looked at me, then looked down the hill, and then looked at the car that was parked between us in the driveway. [It can never be good when you see a dog stop and think]. And then:

...she started running as fast as she could...

...and she leapt over the wall...

...and landed on top of the car...

...and then took another huge leap to get across to me.

I'm not kidding. I mean, forget agility classes - I think she was telling me that she wants to learn how to parkour.

  

  

a gift for our neighbors.

My weekend was filled with puppies. No complaints here! How can anyone see a sweet little munchkin and not smile?! Personally, I can't see a puppy without running over to pick it up and kiss its fuzzy little head. All of these sightings this weekend got me thinking about Claire when she was a tiny thing just two and a half years ago.

I remember when she was about four months old, and I could still walk around my apartment complex without having her on a leash; she followed me wherever I went. She was more curious than usual on this particular day, and she heard people talking up on the third floor of the building. We were working on recall anyway, so I figured I'd take this opportunity to see if she would come back when she heard me call her name. After I called for her twice without her returning to me, I started walking up the steps to go get her. All of a sudden, I heard people screeching. I ran up two flights of stairs just as I heard a man say, "Whose dog IS this?!?!" I got to the top floor just in time to see people running out of an apartment - Claire had taken it upon herself to invite herself in when they opened the door to leave. I peered into their apartment and saw Claire zooming around their living room, jumping on the couch, circling their kitchen table, and sliding down the wood floor in the hallway. I pushed one of the women out of the way and dashed in to get Claire, all the while apologizing for my wild dog puppy causing a ruckus in their apartment. I saw an older man running after Claire with a broom, and yelled for him to stop chasing her so that I could catch her. She saw me and leapt into my arms, tail wagging the entire time, and smothered me in kisses. I continued to apologize to the family profusely, explaining that she was just four months old - a little thing, really - and tried to make a joke about me learning my lesson through this experience that it was time to put her on a leash during our excursions outside. They didn't find it funny, if you can believe it.

I remember myself thinking, "She's just a puppy, I don't understand why they were flipping out." You know, despite the fact that a little black furball went beelining into their apartment when they opened the door. I also remember noticing, as I walked out of their apartment with Claire in my arms, that she left a little present on their doormat. As if her unexpected visit wasn't enough?!
 
   

the co-sleeping arrangement, as of late.

So. My dad bought me an amazing gift for Christmas. Amazing. I don't think he envisioned that I would have to share it with Claire, but what's mine is hers and what's hers is...hers. Hmm... lucky dog.

Anyway, Dad bought me a heated mattress cover. Did you know that they make these babies? Well they do. [Invest in one. You won't regret it]. I am now sleeping like a little burrito, with a heated mattress cover under me and a heated blanket over me. It's a great little cocoon.

Claire thinks so too.

The little miss starts out by curling up at the end of the bed on top of the blanket that my mom gave her from Pier 1. [Because basically, when we went home for Christmas, Claire claimed it as her own, and my sweet mama - as generous as she is - decided that Claire should keep it since she loves it so much]. Usually, Claire likes her space when she sleeps and only on occasion would she come and cuddle with me through the night. But now, around midnight every night, I find myself waking up to the sound of Claire jumping off my bed. When I am fully awake, I see that she is sitting next to my bed looking at me. [Which sounds sort of creepy, but... it's not]. And - like clockwork, every night - I climb out of bed and Claire jumps back into bed - into my spot - and gets all cozy in the cocoon. And there she sleeps until morning.

It's been cold in Nashville lately, apart from yesterday's 60*F-tornado-warning weather, so the heated mattress cover has been a blessing to keep us extra warm in this old house! And I certainly don't mind sharing the warmth with my girl.

...Though I could do without the midnight wake-up calls.
 
 

the poster child for causing trouble.

I'm house-sitting for my friend while she is out of town this weekend, which is lovely because it's like a little vacation for me and Claire, even though my friend lives in town. The change of scenery is nice, you know? But with a change of scenery comes new opportunities for Claire to be her little mischievous self...

Earlier this morning, I left Claire in the living room lounging in front of my friend's fireplace, chewing on a cow hoof while I was getting ready. She was occupied so I had a few minutes to put on my face and such. I was in the guest room making the bed when I heard the pitter-patter of Claire-sized paws echoing in the bathroom across the hall. I peeked around the corner and she had taken the loose end of the toilet paper roll in her mouth and was prancing around the bathroom with the paper trailing behind her. She was having a grand old time running under the streams of toilet paper, tossing it up in the air, rolling around in it, tearing it up. I cleared my throat and she froze. She looked at me. She dropped it. And she sat down. I didn't say anything, I just stood there. After a few seconds, she brought me the remainder of the roll, dropped it at my feet, and started kissing my hands. With such a sweet apology, I didn't even care about having to clean it up.

She just can't help being so cute... even when she's been naughty.

midnight delight.

I'm usually really great at sleeping. Seriously. I am quite skilled. I can fall asleep anywhere, any time, any place. I can stay asleep through anything (including tornado sirens, which doesn't bode well for me). But last night, I woke up in the middle of the night because something was pressing into the side of my head. I reached up to feel what it was, and it was all tangled in my hair. [Flashback to the summer of '93 when I woke up with Silly Putty all knotted in my hair. Traumatizing. Remember that, Mom?!]

I turned on the light to try and free my head from this thing,
and I realized...
it was...
a...
smoked pork skin roll.

Half eaten.
Sticky.
Smelly.
In my hair.
Given a preference, I think I would have chosen the Silly Putty again...

Claire found a new hiding place for her treats, apparently: between the pillows on my bed. I must have rolled over on it in the middle of the night, causing the massive hair tangle. Lovely.

I looked over at Claire who had her ears perked up and was clearly lusting after her prized possession.
"Claire? Did you put this treat in my bed?"
[Like it could've been someone else?!]
Wag. Wag. Wag.
"This. Is. Disgusting. Just for the record."

I freed it from the knot that it created and was about to put it down on my nightstand when Claire launched herself at me, took it from my hand, and buried it under her blanket at the end of my bed. Then she laid down on top of it. She looked at me and started wagging her tail again.

I'll now be conducting a nightly inspection of my bed to ensure that I am safe from "finding" random treats throughout the night. Because, let's be honest, who really has time to condition their hair four times in a row before work? Not me.

caught in the act.

I've said before that Claire is very food-motivated, which is a huge benefit for me when it comes to training her. She has certain treats that we use solely for volunteering with the Delta Society, and another kind of treat that she gets for good behavior around the house. On weekends, however, I pull out all the stops: after our morning trip to the dog park, we come back home and she gets either a smoked bone or a bully stick. I've found that, from time to time, Claire tries to hide these special treats - it's almost like she tries to save it for later. She'll walk around the house with it, trying to bury it in different places until she finds the perfect spot.


Over this past weekend, she had settled down on the couch with a bully stick, so I figured it was a great time to do some things around the house. After a little while, Claire came into the kitchen with the bully stick in her mouth and started whining. When she does this, it's because she is frustrated and can't find an adequate place to bury something. After she walked around the kitchen a few times, dissatisfied with her options for bully stick burial, she went back into the living room. When I finished what I was doing, I went to find her. Clearly, she found created a wonderful place to bury her favorite treat:

    

    

choosey moms, choosey dogs.

Alright, before I tell you this story, you've got to know a little bit about Claire's background. So... keep reading. It'll all make sense. Claire has a little problem called GERD. You know, gastro-esophageal reflux disease - acid reflux. Every so often it flares up, causing her to wake up around 3am with a stomach ache. When she was a puppy and the vet figured out that this was a chronic issue for her, I was told to give her famotidine before bedtime for a month to see if that helped; if it did, then I was to stop giving her the medicine until she started showing symptoms again. I give her the medicine by hiding it in a spoonful of peanut butter; it's one of her favorite foods (she likes Jif the best) and masks the medicine, so it's a win-win situation. We've been on this regimen for over a year now and it seems to work pretty well.

A few months ago, Lissa and Claire were watching a movie with me in the living room. We were all up past our usual bedtime, and Claire had fallen asleep on the couch during the movie; she goes to bed at 9pm like clockwork. At the end of the movie, I told Claire that it's time for bed - she knows this cue and normally gets her Blue Elephant before leaping into bed. This time, however, after putting Blue Elephant in bed, she jumped on down and went into the kitchen. She wedged her nose between the refrigerator door and the frame and quickly - expertly, mind you - pried it open. She sniffed around for a minute and then grabbed the jar of peanut butter with her mouth and brought it over to me, then sat there looking at me, waiting for me to give her the nightly "treat" of PB&meds. On this occasion, I had two jars of peanut butter in the refrigerator, as the Jif was almost gone. The other jar was some generic brand. I'm assuming that Claire smelled the difference between them and picked her favorite brand upon recognizing the smell. I was in shock and awe, my friends, shock and awe. Trainers and veterinarians always say that dogs like routine, I just didn't realize that it was so specific!

But I have many questions about this. How did she figure out how to open the refrigerator in the first place? Has she been practicing when I'm at work? What has she consumed while she's been nosing around in there when I'm not home? And, for crying out loud, how do I ever begin to train her to close the refrigerator door after she's gotten what she wants?!

...I have a feeling that I would be in so much trouble if she had opposable thumbs.

  

   

so much love.

A lot of my blogging friends have been talking posting about some of the reasons they love their husbands. I have decided to steal borrow their idea and talk about some of the reasons of why I love Claire. I could seriously go on and on forever, but to spare you some time, I'll just name ten of them now, and will save the rest for future posts. Ready? No? Let me give you a second... Okay, here we go:


1.  She is such a sweet and sensitive girl. Seriously. She hates when people cry. She will nudge your hand with her little button nose until your hand is resting on her head, and then she will proceed to smother you in kisses. And, in case you want to try and pretend-cry so that you can see her reaction, don't waste your time. She has figured out the difference between pretend-crying and real-crying. It won't work.


2.  The top of her head always smells like maple syrup. That is why her last name is Butterworth. Sometimes when we're snuggling in the middle of the night, the smell of her head makes me crave pancakes. I may or may not have gotten up once or twice to make some...


3.  She can be so mischievous and silly. For instance, if I'm busy with something and can't play with her, she will go into my bedroom, grab my slipper, come back over to me, and do a puppy bow as if she is going to take off with it if I don't stop what I am doing and pay attention. It makes me laugh.


4.  She is extremely smart and loves to learn. She is so smart that there are many times when I just look at her and she does what I am thinking. It's like she knows exactly what I'm going to ask of her in any given circumstance. You know, except for when she gets super excited to see one of her favorite people  and chooses to jump all over them, squealing with delight, even though she knows she's not supposed to. (She's getting better at it, I swear!)


5.  She loves me when I'm at my best and she loves me when I'm at my worst, and she never judges me or holds it against me. She wants to be with me all of the time, and wants to experience life with me. 'Nuff said.


6.  She always wants to share my food - like most dogs do - unless it's broccoli, rice, or green beans. And when I do eat those foods, she stays on the opposite side of the room until I've finished eating, almost as though she thinks I'm going to make her have some too.


7.  She is always up for a dance party. Quite frequently, actually. And when I dance around her, acting like a fool, her tail just wags and wags (which I'm sure is the equivalent of laughing, but in dog language). Sometimes we slow dance, but most of the time, we both jump around and act crazy.


8.  As obedient as she is, she does have a mind of her own, and if she is feeling strongly about something, she will let you know. If she is tired on a school day and isn't up for spending eight hours playing with her friends, she tells me: she will sit on the ground and not budge, no matter how much I cajole and encourage her to get in the car. I have learned that treats don't even work in this instance.


9.  She is always so excited to see me, whether I've been gone for five minutes or for a whole day. She has what I call her Greeting Routine: when I pull in the driveway after work, she is looking out the window waiting for me, and when I come inside, she runs in circles around me before grabbing her Blue Elephant and dropping it at my feet to signal (with her tail wagging) that she is excited to spend some time with me and play. This happens every single time I come into the house - and I love it. Every single time.


10. She is so expressive! She has mastered the art of the Frustrated Sigh (when she is ready to play and I am ready to rest), the Content Sigh (when we're snuggling and she's tired after a full day of fun), the Happy Face (ears relaxed and a big grin), the Sad Face (ears lowered and head down - typically observed when she is denied any food other than broccoli, rice, and green beans), the I'm-Worried-About-You Look (eyes wide and ears at alert, while attempting to kiss you multiple times), etc.


I asked my roommate Lissa for her input and she said, "Do you really think I'll come up with something that you haven't already thought of?" Good call, my friend. Good call.

a close call... for my pager.

I was on-call last night for work after a very long day, and I was hoping for a relaxing night without getting paged at all. These are high hopes, my friends. Very high hopes. And very unrealistic. Of course, the pager started going off the very second I walked in the door, and it continued to go off every 30 minutes for the rest of the evening. Thankfully, I wasn't getting paged about anything too difficult, but being on-call is a very nerve-wracking thing anyway. You never know what you're going to get paged about, never know if you'll have to go back in to the hospital, and never know for sure if the other staff are heeding your advice when you talk to them over the phone.


Finally, around 11pm, I turned the lights off, set the pager volume as high as it could go, and snuggled up with Claire - who, by the way, was so very patient throughout the night while I continued to work. At midnight, I woke up frantically to the sound of the pager going off...and to Claire growling. When I turned the lights on, I found that she had bowed down, had the pager between her front paws with her nose right up against the screen, and was growling at it.


I felt her pain, I really did. Believe me. There are many times where I want to throw the pager out the car window while driving 140mph down the highway. Or when I want to toss it into the garbage disposal and leave it running. Or when I want to smash it to pieces with a hammer. (The list goes on... and I know my coworkers have similar ideas!)


Apparently Claire feels the same way.
The validation was exactly what I needed.
And so was the humor.


I just keep imagining what my boss would have said if I had come into work today saying that my dog ate the pager...