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.

Goes around.

Miko decided that if Ray insisted on depositing disgusting dog drool on playing with kitty toys, then he would feel free to check out the antlers we’ve collected for the holiday drive.

Fortunately, Miko can’t be bothered with such foolishness and displayed an appropriate amount of distain for dog paraphernalia.

Last night as Ray was once again indulging in an orgy of playing with kitty toys, I wondered to myself what really is so much fun about a basket of teeny tiny catnip stuffies, a crinkke tunnel, and a bunch of string?

And why is he so much gentler with many of these toys?  After all, I would assume that one shake of the crinkle tunnel in the jaws of Godzilla would result in huge rips in the fabric.

Although the kitties like to “play string,” how much fun is it for an 80 pound puppy to fly through the air to catch the end of a string?

Then it hit me…does Ray think he is a kitty cat?

This weekend my hubby and I had occasion to spend the afternoon with good friends, hanging out, drinking a few …um …sasparillas…eating tasty snacks and watching some football.  Our friends have an 18 month old Great Dane, Winston, who is just the sweetest boy in the world, though he may or may not completely realize that he isn’t truly a lap dog.

As is usual for me, I spent much of the afternoon on the floor.  Furniture can be overrated and I enjoy a nice cuddle with a willing canine.  I think our hosts were concerned that I was uncomfortable or put upon, as like many good dog owners, they want to make sure their dog is friendly and also mannerly.  My husband kept telling them that it is a normal occurance at our house.  Me on the floor cuddling with a dog. 

The funny thing about those of us gathered together yesterday is that just over a year ago, none of us had dogs and now between the three couples and the single person there, we have five total dogs with Winston being the oldest.  Being that we’ve all gotten our dogs as puppies, it’s hard to say exactly how they will grow up and what their personalities will be.  I’m just happy and fortunate that Ray enjoys cuddles as much as I do.  I might be slightly heartbroken if he ended up as a D.I.N.O.S.

Is your dog a cuddlebug?  Are you?