I guess when someone declares it “Baby Week,” they should then post an entry each day that week. 

So I had a big debate with myself and everyone else I knew who had a dog…do you prefer male or female dogs and why.  Obviously the what and why were as varied as the people I asked.  My issue with a male was really the “marking” and all other things associated with the red rocket.  I was pleasantly surprised to learn that neutering early can help with that, so the decision was becoming easier.  Easier to go with the first choice. 

I thought it would be cool to foster at least two puppies with the idea of adopting one while getting the other ready for it’s forever home.  My husband didn’t think it would be fun at all.  Now looking back at those first baby weeks, I have to file that in the “what the hell were you thinking” bucket, although in the back of my mind I keep remembering everyone who says two are easier than one.

*Ok, so far no one has gotten the names of the four football players, so how about this:  if you are as skewed in the brain as I am, tell me why it would be tremendously droll to name these two Ray and Lola.  After all, we’re talking about $25 for your favorite Rescue or Shelter.

We’ve been working with a trainer one on one to get Ray-Ray prepared for the arrival of his new niece.  We purchased a baby doll that cries and moves a bit and have been working on creating a positive response to baby sounds and baby getting attention from family members, especially me.  (Ray’s mama).

I was surprised that the whole bring home a blanket or article of clothing thing was not nearly as important.  The point being that we go out into the world every day and come home with new smells on us.

Along with preparing Ray, we have been kitty proofing all of the fluffy blanketed baby bedding that looks like a perfect kitty hide-out.

What types of preparation have you heard of/done to prepare your fur babies for a human baby?

This is Ray all cleaned up and no longer green.  I think this is what they call a dog pile.  Or at least it is a pile of cuteness.  Notice how small they all are.

We are dedicating this week to babies and declaring it Birth Week here at the Peace-a-Bull Assembly.  Everybody has a unique story about how and when they were born, including dogs from Rescue.  There are uneventful births of all kinds, there are the Puppy Mill horror stories, there are the “my pet just had a litter of puppies” stories, etc.  Ray, as you may remember, was born in rescue and while that might sound like a bad thing, I think it was the best thing that could have happend to him and (most of) his little family.  It is sad that some of his siblings did not survive, but Ray was fortunate.  He was born inside a home and started off with an advantage.


Mama holding Mama 



What could be better than sharing nap time with a friend?  We hope you have a fabulous weekend and have lots of opportunities to snuggle with your best friend, too.

Here’s a dirty little secret.  Ray will be eight months old tomorrow and he just learned to go down the stairs by himself this past weekend.  Granted, he rarely needs to use stairs and ours are slippery, being hardwood and as a nice little snub to building codes, our late 70’s stairs have an open portion with no railings.  Be that as it may, our amazing trainer Lori  got him up and down those stairs in record time.  Now is that the dirty little secret part?  Well, part two of that is since he is bathed in the upstairs bathroom, I carry him back downstairs.  Asia says it is pathetic that he is actually used to being carried.

I never really saw that as too much of a problem since I never thought he would get too big to be carried.  After all, his mom Sparkles was not even forty pounds when she was adopted.  I guestimated that Ray might top out in the mid fifties, which I could still carry if needed.

Ray on “gotcha” day.

How big might he get? It should be fairly easy to track.  Every month on the first he gets his heartworm preventative and I like to take him in to the vet with me so he can get some socialization and also heft his little pink piggy but onto the scale.  Last month and this week I didn’t have a chance to take him in with me so we used the unscientific method of me holding him while on the scale and subtracting my weight.  Ray seems to grow at about ten pounds per month and as of yesterday he was sixty-two pounds of lap dog.

I don’t get them often, but recently I got a migrane that, I swear, I could feel entering my head as if it were a ghost entering Whoopi Goldberg.  I struggled through it for a couple of hours and wrestled with the excruciating thought of driving home or should I just lie down under my desk for a few days.
Driving home won out and I found that the perfect nurse was waiting for me.

Yes, here we are again with the water talk.  Just know that it has nothing to do with how thrilled we all are to have a pool and everything to do with how silly Ray is about water.  Really.
Well, the first new development is that we finally received the solar cover reel and got it assembled so the first time Ray saw the solar cover on the pool he seemed to think that was a hard surface.  Fortunately he hasn’t tried to step on it except from the actual steps, so I’m careful to keep that area peeled back to expose the water.

What you are seeing here is Ray submerging his entire face in order to retrieve one of his favorite tug toys.

These are three separate attempts to retrieve it.

The fact that he actually blows bubbles out his nose while “diving” is astounding to me.  I’m thinking he could clean up in a doggy bobbing for apples contest.
Now if we can just get him interested in swimming.  

I mentioned before that Ray likes bathtime, but that isn’t a completely accurate statement.  Because he associates bathtime with peanutbutter, he is ok with baths, but he doens’t love baths.  I was doing really well with getting him bathed every Sunday until he developed some stomach issues and I had to keep tweeking his diet to resolve this.  That meant, cutting waaaay down on the peanut butter.  Luckily for all of us, the stomach is better and we were able to resume bath night.  Much to Kevin’s amazement, here is how bath time goes:  I close all doors upstairs except the bathroom in an effort to to steer the prancing Pit Bull away from the stash of kitty toys.  I prepare a nice portion of peanut butter and say to Ray, “Bath time!  Let’s take a bath!”  Whereupon he runs upstairs, and hops into the tub.  True story. 

But along similar lines, Ray is still not so keen on the pool.  He enjoys playing near it and he loves those jets, but getting in is still not at the top of his bucket list.  Much to the dismay of the various neighbors and friends who’ve come to enjoy the pool, I have no intention of forcing the issue or even of speeding it along when it comes to Ray swimming.  I’ve taken him in to the bottom of the steps once and he promptly swam out but nothing more. 

This morning was so nice and cool, though, that we spent some extra time outside and Ray had some fun with his outdoor toys.  As he began flinging them in the air and chasing them, one landed smack in the pool.

And as I watched to see what would happen, I nearly missed the retreval.

Well, technically, I did miss capturing it, but I did get to see it.  Two full paws in the water and the toy was snagged back to the safety of dry land. 

Enjoy your weekend!