When we decided to adopt a Pit Bull type dog, I had every intention of collecting an entire wardrobe of cute clothes for him.  I’ll admit, that even though I pretty much had my heart set on Ray, there were some moments of doubt as to whether or not to adopt his only sister.  Cuz, one word:  tutu!  After reading so many other blogs wearing cute, snuggly sweaters and wraps, I just knew my pink piggy of a boy would be grateful for a nice fleece or sweater to ward off the chill of the snowy days here.  In fact, last year, he wore a fleece and/or a coat nearly every day while it was cold and as a rapidly growing pup, had a pretty impressive wardrobe of discards.  I found that something more fitted and snug without buttons or velcro worked the best.

This one worked out so well, that I bought it in several sizes and it made the transition from late January through March or whenever the weather turned a bit milder.   It’s amazing how hard it is to find a shirt or jacket that will fit a big chested dog, even a puppy. 

While this one technically fit, it didn’t last very long because the buttons presented a challenge in that they demaded to be eaten, or at the very least, removed. I think I ended up purchasing more that he didn’t wear than things that he did wear. We also went through quite a series of wraps with a velcro closure.  I believe velcro is code for Pit Bull Crack, judging by how joyously Ray set about attacking the velcro.

So, with all of the snow we’ve gotten in the past few days, I figured that Ray would be a shivering mess who would run out to do his business and run back inside as quickly as possible.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.  My thin haired, pink skinned little piggy seems to be a snow dog.  He’s been zooming through the snow all around the pool, knee deep in snow, plowing drifts with his snout, chipping ice chunks with his massive clubs that he calls paws and running proudly around with is prize.

Standing outside in Uggs, jacket and heavy sweat pants, I usually have to demand Ray come inside because if my legs are cold under all the layers, this naked little pooch has to be cold.  I think he’d just play out in the snow as long as we’d let him.  In fact, I’ve never seen him so much as shiver, not even a little bit.  We’ve been fortunate that the temperatures haven’t been too severe yet, but I think I’m going to have to find a coat or sweater that fits well and start getting him used to it again just in case it gets bitter outside.  Then maybe we can work on rebuilding the wardrobe again.  Hey, if you can’t play dress up with you dog…who can you?

So, tell me, do you dress your dogs and do you have a special trick for success?

I wrote something this morning that kind of put me in a blue funk, so in an effort to shake it off, I thought I’d share a little about some of Ray’s idiosyncrasies regarding rain.  Having quite a few of my own idiosyncrasies, I find it amusing that Ray can ge just as crazy as I am sometimes.

For many people, especially city dwellers who might not have a yard, it might seem like a luxury to have a nice, big fenced area where you could just open the door and your dog trots happily out to do his business or play.  In theory, that would be nice, but Ray won’t actually go outside alone.  That means rain or shine, hot or cold my happy butt is standing outside with Ray.  I don’t mind it, because it’s still time spent with my boy, but the times that he starts playing and its cold and he forgets to “go” but then wants to keep going outside…that gets old.

So, back to the rain.  I’ve yet to find a decent raincoat for him, but considering some of his other oddities, I imagine the sound of rain hitting a slicker that he is wearing might just cause a nervous twich or something.  At first, we started going out under an umbrella.  That worked well enough for him that if I opened the back door and he saw that it was raining, he’d refuse to go out until I said, “Wait, I’ll get the umbrella.” 
He then progressed to needing to actually having the presence of the umbrella, but not necessarily being under it.  It just had to be there. 

Becca, when she comes, takes him out front on a leash and that presents a whole different aspect of going outside.  Sometimes if it is raining pretty hard, and he can’t go out the back door, we’ve found he will go out front.  On a leash.  Near an umbrella.  I can actually walk him on a leash without an umbrella from the front into the back.  That’s safe.  I can also, sometimes if it’s raining, clip his leash on and walk him out the back door in the rain and as soon as he crosses the threshold I can remove the leash. 

Ah, life with Ray.  He is never, ever boring.  So tell us, what is the craziest and most random behavior you’ve noticed in your pets?

So, I guess it’s time to confess.  In my head, I understand the sense and value of crating but my heart still rebels against it just a little.  Ray doesn’t hate his crate, but he doesn’t love it, either.  His man cave has been under the kitchen table for so long that we ended up putting a comforter down under there for him to lay on since he likes it so well.

It’s a nice chill spot for him where he can still see most of the goings on in the house.  While Asia was home on maternity leave, I would still crate Ray when I left and when  Ray’s girlfriend  dog walker came at noon she would let him out for his bio-break then re-crate him.  We eventually worked to where he was only crated half of that time; either I would leave him out (in the two gated rooms) and she would re-crate or vice versa until finally the crate was gone and Ray was able to nap on the sofa or what have you.  He did great and we were feeling pretty pleased because he seemed much happier and was being pretty responsible for a puppy not yet a year old. 

When Asia returned to work, things still seemed to go well, until I discovered the support slats on two of  the chairs above were whittled down to toothpicks.  Uh-oh.  All for giving the benefit of a doubt and second chances, etc.we still did not crate Ray day or night.  The picture above is the family room where Ray spends most of his time, but you may have seen pictures more recently of this room that looked like this:

A lot of throw rugs.

Yeah, that’s an army of throw rugs across the floor.  I got a call from Becca, who walks Ray every day and her voice sounded worried so I immediately started fretting.  She said Ray tore up the carpet and she would send me a picture so in the meantime, we decided to have her get a gate out of the garage and leave him in the kitchen.  I had to go to a meeting so I didn’t receive the picture right away butI figured,  “How bad could it be?”  This bad.



Right down to the foundation.

Knowing Kevin wouldn’t be home until about 4:30, I figured I could call him and give him a head’s up, but when he answered he sounded so stunned that I knew he was home early.  He was in such shock that, although I don’t mean to make light of it, it almost became a non-event.  The immediate problem at this point was that Ray was already used to not being in the crate, so we couldn’t just toss him back in right way.  We decided that at night he could sleep in the man cave.  That way he wouldn’t be able to get to the carpet while we slept.  And we could have time to get him back in the crate without it seeming like a punishment.  Until he acquired a taste for drywall.

Ray is still allowed to chill in his man-cave under the table, believe it or not, and he is actually pretty good about going to his crate.  He knows the command, “go to your mat” which includes the mat in his crate, so he knows he’ll get a good treat if he goes so we’ve kind of struck a truce between Dr. Destructo and the ever maturing puppy.  I know I pushed the process too quickly and although he shows absolutely no stress about being in his crate, I have to wonder if it was just rambunctious puppy play or a bit of separation anxiety that caused the terrible-awful.  I really lean towards the former.  When he is crated, he naps, gnaws his antler and listens to tunes.  I usually only latch the top latch and once we left both latches undone.  We found him sitting in his crate looking totally freaked because the latches were undone! 

So, like any kid who is given too much freedom too soon, Ray has had some house rules laid on him and as for me?  I got new carpet. 

So did your pooch ever go through a Dr. Destructo phase?

Guess what else we got for Christmas!  One of our bloggie buddies, Pawsitively Pets created this cool 12 Days of Christmas post and my handsome mug is in it not once, but twice! 

And?  We’re featured on Coffee with a Canine today, too!  All of this Ray-Ray love might go to my head, except Mama said that tomorrow she is finally gonna spill the beans about why the kitties said I was naughty this year.

I see no reason at all why she would want to go and do a crazy thing like that.

Because our holiday festivities will be pretty low-key this year, we found ourselves done with the shopping, decorating and baking with time to spare.  Most of Saturday was spent cleaning, wrapping and lots of this…

While Sunday was spent cleaning, cooking, watching football and doing this…

We hope your weekend was just as good and that your holidays are merry and bright. 

These ears don’t appear nearly as often as they used to.  Now they usually appear when mischief is afoot.

Fate.  Destiny. The stars aligned.  Sometimes you work and worry and stress over things and other times everything just falls into place like the tumblers in a lock.  I’ve read stories where people took one look at their dog and just knew that was the right one and others who did a lot of dating to ensure a good fit. 

Nearly a year ago-it was January 12th to be exact- my aunt messaged me about a dog she had seen on Smiling K9’s page.  She was looking for a small dog, something under ten pounds because she travelled a lot and wanted to be able to carry on her pooch.  The dog she actually inquired about was bigger than she was looking for, but I always kept her in mind when a small, friendly dog came around. 

Fast forward to late October or early November and my cousin messaged me saying she and her brothers were thinking about getting their mom a dog for Christmas and definitely wanted a rescue.  I know what you’re thinking, but this wasn’t one of those puppy for Christmas and off the the pound in the New Year situations.  January 12th!!  She had been looking since before January 12th!  I then began sharing picutres on Facebook of all of the small dogs that might be a good fit and heard through the grapevine (my cousin) that the pictures were “torturing” my aunt.  See, her husband wasn’t quiiiite as on board and at Thanksgiving I heard that this was going to be a no-go.  That’s ok,  we want all dogs to have a home, but we also know the circumstances need to be right.

Last week, Smiling K9’s posted a small status update needing a transport from here to a specific town in Wisconsin.  It wasn’t the usual looking request, so I knew it was a one off sitation but I went ahead and shared the status and when on with my day and quickly buried it in the layers of daily activities that were accumulating.  Much to my surprise, my cousin messaged me that her mom was going to be “here” and driving to “there” on Monday and depending on the size of the dog in question would be able to transport.

Discovering that the rider was Pork Chop, a chihuahua puppy, my aunt agreed to give him a lift to his new forever home, and joked with me, “I might not give him back when we get there!”  I mentioned his brother was still available and she said, “Is that Beefcake?”  Boom.  I got a text later from her saying she couldn’t stop thinking about Beefcake.

The logistics were sticky, as we decided to bring both boys so one could go on transport and the other could “audition” for a spot in a forever home so I picked them up, arranged to meet my Aunt and had Katie ready to meet me if necessary to take Beefcake back home but with his adoption papers in tow just in case.  Well, I didn’t time it, but I doubt if it was five minutes after snuggling with Mr. Cake before he was being adopted and heading for a wonderful life. 

Was it meant to be?  While signing the paperwork, my Aunt realized Beefcake’s birthday (he was born in rescue) was the same day as her husband’s…her husband who she used to call Beefcake.  Seriously.  I can’t make this stuff up. 

So tell us, once you decided to get a dog, how long did it take you to find The One?

Recently, I was hanging out, being my usual perfect self and wondering why we have that funny looking tree in the living room when my Mama did something really horrible.

She laid all of these beautiful antlers out on the dining room table where I could see them and hear them making clinky sounds.  And she let fat kitty Miko inspect them.

Then  she put all of those antlers back into a bag and put them in her car and took them away from me!  Couldn’t she see the I want it look on my handsome face??? 

Mama swears that there was a good reason to deny me all of that antlery goodness and that she will explain her crazy actions tell us about it tomorrow. 

I shouldn’t do it.  I know I shouldn’t do it, but sometimes you just need to get that negative energy out and possibly calm down enough to formulate coherent sentences.  It might even act as a self moderator.  I’m always looking for ways to help Ray learn to settle himself and maybe this is my way.

There are so many pages to “like” on Facebook that I find just because it seems to match an interest, I have to be wary of what the page is about.  Products are pretty easy -you like a product or you don’t.  Blogs are easy.  I read a blog, I like a blog, I like the Facebook page.  What gets a little dicier is “rescue” or “Pit Bull” pages.  I like several pages because of the cute pictures or because I know they might do good work and I usually check if other likeminded friends “like” the page as well.  I gotta admit, I’ve unliked (disliked?) a lot of rescue pages because  sometimes it just gets to be too negative or too guilt-trippy.  I try not to do the same things myself but fear that I occasionally still let one slip through.

Today’s rant is about a Facebook page that had a link to a Pit Bull blog that promoted responsible ownership but as I was reading the post, felt that there were so many inaccuracies, I wondered if it was satire.  Was this author acually a Pit Bull hater?  This article was so skewed to divide and separate Pit bulls from the rest of the dog population for the pit bulls’s own good that even hours later I find myself irritated. 

I find myself in a Catch 22 here.  I have a pretty good idea of my readership here and value your opinion so if you’d like to read the post yourself, I can get you the link but I won’t link to it publicly.  I wouldn’t “trash” someone publicly for their opinion and I also don’t want to drive any traffic from point A to point B. 

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, here is the obligatory Ray-Ray picture of the day.