We Had a Big Year

I'm so behind this year that I sent out my Christmas cards late, and without my usual semi-snarky (but fun! come on!) Christmas letter. It's a shame, really, because this year I actually had some significant goings-on to report (in the human department, that is...there always seems to be something four-leggedly significant happening in my home).

I had all sorts of grand plans for the format and the content, but I dare not give away my ideas...there's always next year, when I will hopefully have my life a little more organized. Truly, the way things have been lately (which is to say, swirling around my head in a tornado of activity and circumstantial frenzy), I am most impressed we even got a card put together.

Merry Christmas, everybody. We hope and pray that 2010 will be as unbelievably blessed and joyous for you as 2009 has been for us.

A Q&A with Bronx

Bronx waited until the last couple of days with us to put on his NaughtyPants. Seriously, he is such a good and sweet little dog...but when he decides to do something against the law, he goes into stealth mode and does it quickly and quietly. Now, I am a vigilant puppy raiser, but this one flew under my radar, and he did it repeatedly.

A Bronx Q&A from the last few days:

Jenny: "What is my shoe doing off the shoe rack? And where is the other one?"
Bronx: "Check the living room, where you were just two minutes ago. It tastes like Disneyland."

Jenny: "Is that an ink pen sticking out of both sides of your mouth?"
Bronx: "Mmhmmf."

Jenny: "Where did my hair tie go? I could have sworn I had it this morning...."
Bronx: "You'll see it again. Probably just after dinner."

Jenny: "What's that giant black lump in the middle of my bed?"
Bronx: "Oh, hi. Enjoy your three-minute bathroom break? The yellow dog just jumped off and ran away, muttering something about the cops, but I'm lovin' this TempurPedic mattress. Wanna join me?"

Jenny: "What are you eating? Open up."
Bronx: "I believe it's excrement. You're gonna wanna wash those fingers."

Rock You Like a Furricane

The Bronx is back. We've been puppysitting him for a week, and when he and Truman are in the same room, it's CrackTown, U.S.A. They simply do not stop without enforced time-outs.

Bronx is a sweet little guy, six months old now and still intact. He's pretty mellow on his own, but he and Truman have been taking turns doing inappropriate things to each other in the name of dominance. It's been hard for me to accomplish anyth-- excuse me for a moment, won't you?

"OFF!"

Ahem! Okay then. So, "Humpus and Grumpus," as I've taken to calling them, are home with me today while Wolf is out doing some steam locomotive stuff and big band music stuff. It's been a long day of absolute nonproductivity for me. I figured I could separate the boys successfully by taking Bronx out on a few errands (it's nice to have a portable dog in the house again), and maybe stopping for coffee somewhere.

But I can't find my keys.

And I'm almost certain they're in Wolf's car.

So I'm pretty sure I'm stuck here in the eye of the furricane until...tomorrow, basically, unless I feel like going out for coffee at 2 A.M., when I expect him home.

A Couple of Twits

And by the way...I'm tweeting now. Follow me @LabradorRodeo, if you're not tired of hearing from me already!

On Very Important Dates

I'm one week away from my six-month wedding anniversary. Among the many things I am foolish enough to have believed I would be able to do by now:

1.) Get the thank you notes out. Emily Post says I have a year to do this, and now I understand why. Still...I'd like to get them written and mailed before I have to start thinking about sending out Christmas cards.

2.) Be entirely unpacked. Grandma used to say that after a move, you should unpack the kitchen and bedroom/bathroom stuff immediately. Whatever's left packed in boxes six months later should be left in the sealed boxes and given away, because clearly, you didn't miss it. Alas, I do not subscribe to this philosophy. I do indeed miss my Jedi action figures and my craft supplies and my Post-It flags and the box of 3x5 cards on which I have written many of my favorite recipes. But life gets in the way of efficiency sometimes. For the record, I am also hoping to have the bulk of this done before...mmmmmmChristmas...?

(Please let me dream, people.)

3.) Get back to regular blogging. Holy cow, I have been busier than the proverbial one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest (another gem from Grandma). Truman has been here through all of it, and I've missed many an opportunity to regale you with his nutty adventures. I know I've promised updates and not delivered -- including wedding photos (another thing I can't seem to get done by the six-month marker, unbelievably)!

This is just a note to say that YellowDog and I are still alive and kicking, and continuing to settle into this new life with the Wonderful Man Who Loves Us Both More Than We Could Ever Have Hoped. If there are any of you still hanging in there, clinging to the idea that I might someday return...many thanks! We'll be back, I promise. And next spring or summer, the puppy raising madness will begin all over again.

And on a happy note, today is Lomax's fifth birthday. And in honor of The Moof, who is living the guide dog life somewhere in Tennessee, I smile and give thanks for the many blessings God provides in the lives of everyone involved with Guide Dogs of America and other service dog organizations all over the world.

Shuffles the Clown vs. the Humpopotamus

Wolf and I are puppysitting little Bronx this weekend; he will be eleven weeks old on Saturday.

It's been a while since I've had a furball this young in my care, Wolf has never had the joyous experience of puppy-induced sleep deprivation, and Truman hasn't had a canine playmate in a while, so we thought it would be a nice way to spend the holiday weekend.

Bronx is a mellow little guy. A champ at sitting, patient with food and water, cuddly and affectionate, excellent recall skills. A good boy, an "easy" puppy.

It will come as no surprise to long-time readers that MY dog-in-residence -- Truman, otherwise known as Dingus McFreaktown -- is the one causing all the chaos. They've done nothing but play and wrestle and squeak and chew and slobber and run in circles and follow each other around since Bronx got here last night. I've had to put the little man in the kennel a few times, just to give him a break from the Yellow Instigator.

Funniest thing? In just twelve hours' time -- including several hours of sleeping last night -- Bronx has done *eleven* Labrador shuffles. Full butt-tuck-and-run, crazy-circle, energy burst shuffles. Indoors. Amazing.

And Truman is very excited to finally be the alpha dog over someone else. Unfortunately, this means that when I haven't been busy getting up to take the little dog outside to pee, I've been busy getting up to pull the big dog off the little one.

I...won't post a photo of that. But we're going to take pictures of them sometime this weekend, and hopefully post those soon. Assuming we can get them to stop moving long enough to focus the camera.

RIP Tigger

Princess Tiger Lily "Tigger" Ackerman Fengler
May 20, 1989 - June 4, 2009



Tonight we celebrate the life of Tigger, who -- having reached the impressive feline age of 20 -- passed away peacefully at home, in her favorite basket, with her adoptive mom (me) and her biggest fan (Truman) by her side.

She lived a full and adventurous life, and was dearly loved by many.

Tigger's many achievements included avid bird hunting, balcony napping, Labrador taunting, ceaseless purring, sofa jumping, ice cream begging, carpet piddling, high-decibel mrrrrRAYRRRing (as any of you who have spoken with me on the phone will attest), and the occasional surprise special guest appearance in my morning shower.

She and Truman shared more in common than either would probably like to admit. Both were accomplished "vocalists," both were the proud recipients of battle-scar notches in their ears, and both had tails that were bent at the tip (Tigger's was due to her having survived being hit by a car when she was a kitten). Though Truman never could get her to play with him on his own terms -- not even when he dropped a toy or a bone in front of her face and waited with ears-up, tail-wagging expectation -- Tigger did secretly enjoy playing her own special games, the most popular being "I will cross the room and go out of my way to walk three inches in front of your face as I know you are under 'down-stay' orders, ha HA."

Tigger is survived by her humans in Arizona and California, her dog, and anyone else she may have considered staff at one time or another.

No doubt she is now making her first deposit at the Big Litter Box in the Sky. Or, more likely, just *outside* the Big Litter Box, on God's freshly steam-cleaned living room carpet.

We'll miss you, Tig.

Here Comes the Dog

I'll post more soon, but for now, a teaser:

The Roo is Two!

My tiny Truman is two today! Seems like puppy pick-up day was just yesterday...



And now he's a full-grown grumpus and permanent member of my family. Happy Birthday, Truman! We also wish a very happy birthday to fellow forever-dog Tori, and to Tai, Tia and Thatcher -- our littermates still in formal training. We all know that January babies are the cutest. :)

You'd Better Not Pout

The look on his face? Oh, don't worry about Truman. He's already received his fancy new dog bed for Christmas, and he's getting a fun road trip (where there will be two other dogs to play with), a new chicken-flavored Nylabone, and apparently some fun toys from my mom & dad. I told him that if he's not paying his share of the rent around here, the least he could do is let me take a few shots of him in a ridiculous hat for my own amusement. Apparently, he feels this is beneath him.

Merry Christmas, everyone, and may you all be blessed this holiday season!

GDA Puppy Evacuation: Film at 11!

Our local Fox affiliate did a news story on GDA's dog evacuation. Check out the video!

Fire Near GDA -- Prayers Appreciated

Those of you who live here in California know the perils of fire season -- when it's hot and dry and windy, as it is every autumn, things can get scary.

There's a pretty big fire burning in Sylmar right now, which is where Guide Dogs of America is located. I woke up to several e-mails this morning from puppy raiser group area leaders and GDA employees. The current situation is that all the dogs and puppies were safely evacuated at 1:30 this morning, and that the campus is still standing, but without power or phone service.

Fires are unpredictable, and sometimes even when things are seemingly under control, the winds can change and bring about a whole new situation. Your prayers are appreciated: for the campus itself, the staff and volunteers, the dogs and puppies, and especially the first-responders who are taking care of business on the fire lines.

Many thanks.

I'm Truman, and I Approve This Message

Sure, at first he was a little jealous that nobody got HIM a fancy new ring, but then we gave him a cookie and he forgave us. At least he got to be there for the proposal, which was only fair, considering he WAS the chaperone for our first date. Also considering the fact that Truman actually prefers Wolf to me, I think the arrangement will be to his liking after all.

So now I have a full-time dog, the most excellent future husband in the history of man, and something sparkly for my leash hand:



Yay!

Guess Who's Four?

Today is Lomax's birthday...unbelievably, The Moof is FOUR YEARS OLD!!! Somewhere in Tennessee, there is a smiling blond dog in a black harness, guiding a smiling blond woman.

Happy fourth, little man. :)

I'm Not Dead, Just on Vacation

Yes, I know I've been promising updates. And it was my fervent hope to be able to sit down for...what, four straight days, perhaps...and put up the 25 or so posts I know there are to write, but I've been a bit preoccupied. With many things! Life has been full of things to do and things to pray about. Dog adoptions, freelance projects, events and changes and work and church and puppy raising and surprise birthday parties and friendships and on and on and on....

But mostly, in the last couple of weeks, I've been busily preparing for gettin' the heck outta Dodge. Tomorrow afternoon, in fact, I'll be on a nonstop flight from Dodge to Germany! I'll be gone for a couple of weeks, so there will obviously still be nothing new from me (with the exception of one teeeeeensy little post scheduled to publish in a few days) until I get back.

Truman is spending the next two weeks in the capable hands (and possibly the comfy bed) of Matt and Amy...'cause if you can't have your own dog back, his brother's the next best thing. :)

Meanwhile, I'll leave you with this photo of me, Wolf, and the Roo, taken just before he went IFT back in August. Auf wiedersehen!

The Truman Has Landed

It was very quick -- drive up, sign papers, get Roo, take photos, go home.

He gained 4 pounds while he was IFT. He weighs 74 pounds, and looks HUGE to me!

We're settling in and figuring out logistics. Just thought you might want to see the boy as much as I did:









I think he's happy to be home.

Too Hip for Guide Work

I got the phone call yesterday: Truman has been released from the GDA program, because he has hip dysplasia.

It's just on the left side, and fortunately, it's a mild case. So mild, in fact, that not only does he show no outward signs of it, they had to get the opinion of an orthopedist because the x-rays alone weren't strong enough evidence to make the determination. Missed it by that much....

Of course, I'm sad that he won't graduate and go on to a life of guide work. I'm sad that he can't even go to search and rescue -- which I know he would love -- because he's been released for medical reasons. And I have spent the last 36 hours or so in deep thought and fervent prayer and my fair share of tears, and discussion and e-mail exchanges with many people, in an attempt to make the difficult decision of whether to adopt him myself or to let the school adopt him out to someone else.

The logistics are difficult. I live in a third-floor apartment with no yard, and would no longer be allowed take him to the office where I spend two of my weekdays at work. I would be taking on his medical expenses, no longer receiving reimbursement for his veterinary care. I would be paying for his food, and no longer allowed to claim the things I buy for him as a tax deduction. I would be a little less free to do what I want and go where and when I want. I would no longer have the luxury of dropping him off for free room and board and a bath up at the school. A full-time dog is a human tie-down.

But he's my Roo. He's this little face:



Okay, the face eventually grew more mature. But even when Truman was being difficult and adolescent and full of attitude, barking at nothing and demanding attention from the nearest person, daring me to correct him, this was the little face that I saw in my heart. I love that little face, and the heart behind it, and the messed up hip behind that, and the wagging tail behind that. And if he were to come home to live with me, I would KNOW he'd be getting the care and love that he needs, because it would be given by the person who knows him best and the person who loves him most.

So he will come home.

We will have help from my wonderful boyfriend and some other very supportive and loving people, who understand that my taking him back forever will be a challenge. I will definitely be making a list of the folks -- puppy raisers, friends, family, co-workers -- who have offered to watch him for me occasionally, or who have offered playdates with their own dogs or swim time in their backyard pools (really good exercise for dysplasia).

Yes, I will still update the blog with the last two months or so of photos and adventures...but I wanted to share this news with you right away so that you can share in my joy on Friday, when Truman becomes my Forever Dog. I can't wait.

I Owe...I Know....

August 7 -- So, I realize I owe you all about two months' worth of posts...and believe me, there is much to post. I really wanted to have everything up to date by tomorrow so I could get a turn-in post up this weekend, but there is so much to do, so much to prepare for, and so much weeping and clinging to Truman I have yet to do before Saturday at noon...I promise I will get all of it up eventually, but it probably won't be anywhere near on time.

Rest assured, though, I will catch you up. And there may even be some interesting puppy news on the horizon....

Rock and Roll

From an actual IM conversation I just had a few minutes ago with a co-worker (who is working from home today):

me: um...earthquake
gabe: yeah
me: holy crap
me: still moving
gabe: this is a long one
me: man!
gabe: whew... it's rare that i actually have time to remember to find cover
me: at least we have no windows here!
me: lol
gabe: lol
gabe: sad but true
gabe: there are ppl working on the street outside and they didn't even notice it
gabe: they're hardcore
me: lol ... it was a 5.8 centered 2mi SW of Chino Hills
gabe: that's a good size
me: yeah!
gabe: this is so LA of us... IMing while the earthquake is happening
gabe: lol
me: LOL!!!

Meanwhile, Truman was solid as a rock. He did look up from where he was sleeping under my desk, and he stood up at some point and walked over to me -- this was a LOOOOONG earthquake -- but he didn't take much notice otherwise.

A co-worker a few cubicles down from me is quoted as saying, "That is a BAD DOG. He didn't bark or warn us or anything."

I replied, "You mean you didn't get his e-mail?"

It's Official

I've been dreading going to the mailbox for weeks now, knowing it was coming any day. Today, we got it.

The letter.

Turn-in day is August 9th.