On & Off the Road

It’s kind of fun to write these posts, then schedule them for posting at a later time!  It means that if I have a streak of creativity and write two or three posts at one sitting, I can set them up to post later, I don’t have to post them all at once.  That’s what happened last week.  I wrote almost an entire week’s posts at one sitting, then scheduled them to post on successive days at precisely 6 am.

The last of the dogs I’m going to write about before moving on to other things is our Princess Nikki.  I initially wrote the following post regarding our Princess on 1/4/2010.  I was just going to edit that post, but I see life has changed in more than one way for her, so I’ll leave it up to you to go read that post of 1/4/10 on your own time.  Today I’ll fill in the story a little, and bring y’all up to date!

In an earlier story, about Travis & Savannah, I related the sad story of Savannah’s death on a cold, March evening in… well, there’s the problem!  We can’t recall, exactly whether Savannah died in 2001 or in 2002.  So, let’s call it 2001.  There was no way Pam could live without the love of Savannah. We tried pretty hard to not add to our family, but in the end, she needed a new little puppy to give her happiness. And so, 3 and a half months after Savannah left, Nikki joined our family from a shelter in Enid, Oklahoma. Nikki is, well, Nikki … sometimes Princess, at other times she’s “Squirt”. This little rescue was just a little fuzz ball when she joined the family. Such a little princess she has become. After Pam died in November, 2002, Scott and I agreed that we must take Nikki in ourselves and so she has become a beloved pet… albeit one with numerous needs. Pam didn’t socialize Nikki too well… okay not at all.

For years, we kept talking about needing to socialize Nikki.  But I kept watching how miserable she was going anywhere, rides for the sake of rides scared her (all my previous dogs LOVED going for a ride).  Going to the vet scared her.  She hated parks.  She cowered at the sight of her leash.  And so Scott and I chose to honor her timidity.  Very much the wrong decision, we both now know.  But at the time, we thought by providing her as “fear-free” a life as possible we were doing the right thing.

I’m not sure, really, when this changed.  At some point, we began to notice little signs from her that well, maybe, just possibly, it could potentially be possible that she was beginning to come out of her shell.  We didn’t have lots of visitors (though Gary did) and maybe each new face through the door gnawed away at her timidity.  Or perhaps it was because at some point in the past couple of years I realized that our behavior was reinforcing her fear, so we began to just ignore her fear when people DID come to our door.

Now, don’t get me wrong, Nikki is still a frightened, timid little girl (of nearly 11 years) but she warms to visitors; her barking sprees only last a few minutes, then wear out.  I think it’s possible that we can have a relatively calm life for her remaining years with some more work.

Nikki has her health issues.  There’s every possibility that she is going blind, but so far she seems to be compensating for it okay.  Her eyes are always blood-shot.  She’s lost some of her delightful fur on her sides.

Nikki does okay with rain, now, though at one time not too long ago she was afraid of getting wet.  She’ll at least go out and take care of her potty without too much problem.  But she still hates baths.  As a result she has only been getting them 1x a year or so!  (No she doesn’t stink, at least that we can tell).  But recently we’ve committed to taking her to PetSmart every 2 months for a bath.  This last time I asked them to trim her fur.  Oops!  She almost looks funny they’ve trimmed her so!  I assume doggy fur eventually grows back.  And they get the chore of trimming her nails, as well.

Ixchel, I think, has been good for Nikki.  Nikki no longer has place of prominence, cuddling with me all night watching television.  Ixchel likes the sofa too, and so Nikki has been spending lots of time sleeping near me on the floor.  That makes me a little unhappy, I liked our cuddles.  But Ixchel lies up against my leg, or chews on her chew toy (which squeaks) and that bugs Nikki.  But the two of them spend a lot of time playing outside when we’re home, and I do think maybe Ixchel’s outgoing nature is rubbing off, just a little, on our Princess Nikki.

And so, dear readers, there you have it.  You’ve learned about PC Kitty, Travis & Savannah, Ixchel & now, Princess Nikki… oh, just so you know, Pam named Nikki after Anna Nicole Smith.  Don’t ask me why.

Well, we’re 3/7ths of the way into week 3 of 2012… already, I’m falling behind on my pledge to post three times a week.  In fact, had not a great friend, the marvelous creator of the Jesus In Love books, and her blog, Jesus In Love, written me an email and mentioned my pledge in it, I probably would have forgotten my promise!  Thank you, Kitt, for your reminder!  You saved my bacon.

So, over the last week, you learned about Ixchel, our mini dachshund. Today, as I was looking at some financial reports, I discovered that in the first 3 months we have had her, Scott and I kinda sorta went a little bit overboard! Counting vet visits for inoculations, two six week trailing classes, and toys, and beds, and doggy clothes, we’ve spent over a grand! Oops.

I also regaled you with the story of Savannah and Travis, and with our first pet.

Now, I don’t recall if I’ve ever shared with you the “Guardian” story about Travis & Savannah. If I have, it has been over a week, which means I’ve forgotten. Forgotten that I’ve told the story… I can, oddly enough, recall the story.

But you have to ask me to tell it.

Okay, if you insist! You don’t have to twist my arm, friend!

From 1998 until August 1999, we lived in an old 120 year old house over on 10th St & 5th Avenue, here in Council Bluffs. It was to this home that we brought 8 week old puppies that we named Savannah & Travis. Scott and I lived on the 2nd floor with Travis, and Pam & Gary lived on the first floor with Savannah. Gary frequently was out at night, and Scott and I kept busy with Church functions in the evening, so Pam often found herself home alone with the puppies. And, those puppies grew up.

Now, this first floor that Pam and the pups were on was at a level that a person of average height could walk up to the window, and look in. The windows were low, so such a peeping tom would be at about jaw level to a German Shepherd dog of 8 or 9 months.

Pam’s bedroom was just off the dining room, a room with bay windows. Pam would sit on a little stool just inside her door and watch TV. She liked having the lights off.

On this night in April, Scott and I came home, ate dinner with Pam, then left to go to some church function. And now I switch into the “voice” of Pam who related the story when we got home.

“Shortly after you boys left, I noticed you had left the dining room windows open. I thought about closing them but decided not to, even though it was a little chilly.

“I noticed that Savannah was sitting very close to my leg, but wouldn’t lie down as she normally would. Travis was pacing back and forth, walking around the perimeter of the dining room, and stopping on each circuit to look out the window facing the street.

“After making a couple of transits he came over and sat down right beside Savannah, with his back up against me.

“Savannah stood up and began the same prowling motion, stopping to look out the window. After several circuits, she sat down, and Travis resumed his pacing.

“This pattern continued for about 15 minutes. By this time, I was getting nervous but was fascinated by their behavior.

“Travis, who was currently making his rounds dropped to his belly about 10 feet from the front facing window. Savannah got down and belly crawled like dogs do when they’re stalking, and went and joined Travis. Now I was really scared!

“Suddenly a face appeared in the window, and simultaneously, Travis and Savannah launched themselves at the window, barking, growling, snarling ferociously! That man screamed so loud and so high his… [this part has to be edited] lets just say he sounded like a castrati! [end edit].

“I could hear him running for what seemed like minutes!”

I never got to see that kind of behavior, though Pam said it happened almost exactly the same a year later at our new (current) home.

We never worried during those days!

Scott and I moved to Council Bluffs in the summer of 1998. Soon after we got there, we adopted two little White German Shepherd puppies, Travis and his sister Savannah. Travis was also known, along with Savannah as “Monsters” or just “Monster”. Until recently, American Kennel Club. They are now considered a breed of their own, the American White Shepherd, also known as the American-Canadian White Shepherd.

Watching them grow up was such a joy and the two developed the sweetest natures. They became watchdogs to our little family, though were really not aggressive by nature. When danger was near, however, they could be a formidable team.  (I have to get THREE comments to this post, and then I’ll tell the story of one of them. 5 comments will get two stories.  And SEVEN comments gets ALL the stories!  And the comments can’t all be from one person!)

Savannah shared companionship with Pam. She was virtually inseparable from Pam, and helped Pam in her daily life.

As puppies, these two were hellions!  They came by their monikers “Monsters” honestly!  They chewed.  And they had no aversions… putting amonia or chili pepper or anything on things did NOT stop them from chewing!  They chewed tables.  They chewed a 3 piece living room sectional to pieces – reduced them to wood frames and then started in on those!  Fortunately, they grew out of that!

Travis liked coke! (As in Coca Cola.  Sheesh!) He would lie on the kitchen floor with a captured can of coke… or a bottle… and then very carefully puncture the can or bottle with a tooth and greedily drink it as it shot out of the hole!  Unfortunately, he would then shred the can to tiny pieces, most of which he consumed!

In 2000, Travis began exhibiting idiopathic epilepsy. For nearly four years, we struggled to control the seizures with Phenobarbitol and Potassium Bromide.

Savannah was a good sister to Travis, and often would keep him company during his post-ictal periods… those periods after seizures when Travis would be exhausted and disoriented. She also was a great body-guard to Travis. When he was down and defenseless, no one but Scott, me, Pam and Gary could approach him. The cats learned to stay away as did Lacy (Lacy was Pam’s dog, and I’ll not be writing about her)!

Alas, she was also a very headstrong girl, who wanted to wander. One night Savannah got outside in the front yard without a leash, and dashed in front of a car. Though not obviously injured, we later learned her bowels were perforated and by the time we got her to the ER 12 miles away, she was very sick. In spite of the valiant efforts of Omaha’s finest ER Vets, Savannah took that journey to the Rainbow Bridge in early March, 2001.  Her Mommy Pam missed her dearly (see the next post, called “Princess Nikki”) and in 2003 she made that journey herself to see Savannah.  We miss Savannah nearly as much as Pam did.

In January, 2004, Travis lost his battle with Epilepsy. Travis now waits for us, with PC & I hope Savannah, at the Rainbow Bridge.

Part of me hopes all my loved ones, furred and human all wait there!

Today, I was planning on writing about Miss Nikki, our big girl that we’ve had for 10+ years.  But, I realized yesterday, as I was writing about Ixchel, and again today as I started to write about Nikki, that these pet stories all have a history.  And so, to do them justice, that history needs to be told.  Some of these stories may be too long, others too short.  They will be what they will be.

As I like to say, it’s my blog and I’ll be long winded if I want to!

PC Kitty

It all began, oh, I don’t know… I think it all began when God said “let there be light…”.

Hmm, no, I don’t think I need to go back THAT far.  Perhaps we’ll start with 1997.  Scott and I had been together for about a year.  We had just moved into our second apartment on about 74th & Blondo.  We had seen one of those news spots on the morning news highlighting a kitten at the Nebraska Humane Society, a little black & white kitty.  Scott fell in love with him instantly, and I was only a second behind.

Alas, we had to go to work, and so it was afternoon before we could get to the Humane Society to see about the kitten.  We fully expected the kitten to be gone!  It was so personable, and lively that surely someone would have jumped at the opportunity to adopt it.

But no, the kitty was still there.  We went in to the cat house, the area where the kittens were, to see it.  It lay in its bed looking so utterly disinterested and listless.  But nearby was a blue point siamese kitten about the same age.  This kitten took one look at Scott and I, and made a beeline for us.  It was determined it was going to go home with us, and in moments was curled up in Scott’s arms, sound asleep, purring louder than an M1 tank.  We paid the fees, and headed home.

Opening the door to our apartment, we put the box on the floor, opened it and the cat jumped out.  Scott by this time had named him PC Kitty, or just plain PC.

PC jumped out of the box, looked around the room, and trotted off to hide itself.  Over the next hour or two, PC made it clear we had served its purpose by bringing it home, and we were dismissed until further called upon.  Ah, being the servants of a cat.

PC was the first of what became initially a large menagerie.  But a fiercely loved kitty.  PC?  Oh, yes… all our friends assumed it had to do with computers, since, after all, I spent all my time with them!  But, no, a much simpler answer: PC Kitty was simply named Pussy Cat Kitty!

Our beloved PC didn’t come to us when called for breakfast on January 7, 2006.  He had curled up under my night table, just out of sight, and gone to sleep – from which he never woke up.  He’d had a cold, we thought, and it was suspected that he ended up with congestive heart failure.

We miss our PC!

The other day as I was writing about our Saturday with Dogs, I had planned to link various elements of that story to previous articles.   And that’s when I discovered that I haven’t written any blog entries about our critters!  At least, not in a very long time, and not at all about our youngest critter, Ixchel.

Now, if you know us, you know we went absolutely nutso over our newest pup, Ixchel, a black & tan, short-hair, miniature dachshund.  So, let me tell you ’bout our best friend… well one of the two, anyhow!

The story begins high up in the Wyoming mountains on August 3, 2011.  Our friends Cindy and Juline had arrived with their new dachshund puppy in tow.  Way, way, way back in 1998 Scott had arranged for us to adopt two White German Shepherd puppies (perhaps another story for another time) and I in turn had promised Scott that our next dog would be a dachshund since he had grown up with them, and they were his favored breed (German Shepherd Dogs are mine, maybe another story).  Later we got Nikki, an Australian Shepherd/Blue Heeler mix.

So, jumping back to near present, we’re sitting outside the trailer have our morning coffee, and I ask Juline & Cindy where they got their puppy.  I’m feeling expansive, as one does at 5 am on a morning, sitting on the top of a mountain in Wyoming.  I’m thinking “It’s time to make good on my promise to Scott!”

Juline proceeded to tell me about her friend who has two dachshunds, a boy dachshund (short hair, merle) and a girl dachshund (long hair black & tan).  Apparently, they had bred the two, gotten a nice litter, adopted them out, and decided that would be it for a couple of years.  But, they didn’t pay attention to the signs, missed Mommy’s going in to heat, and walla! a new litter of puppers appear around New Years Day, 2011.  This was IT.  No more puppies for Mommy for at least 2 years!  It is one of THESE puppies that Cindy & Juline have adopted.

Darn, I think.  I’ll have to look elsewhere for a puppy for Scott.  And THAT was how we spent August 3.  Get that?  AUGUST THREE.

AUGUST the THIRD!  (In case you can’t tell, I want you to remember August the 3rd, 2011.)

The following Sunday, we packed up and headed home to Omaha.  On Wednesday, I’m watching television with my laptop in my lap, like I often do in the evening.  Multi-tasking!  Watch TV, surf Facebook, chat with long-distance friends.  Juline sends me a text message on my phone.  I wish I’d saved it, I’d share it.  But she told me that, apparently, her friend’s son had allowed Mommy dachshund and Daddy dachshund to mingle during, THAT TIME.  And another litter had suddenly appeared.

ON AUGUST THIRD!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, on August 3, 2011.  The third of August, while Juline was telling me about how they got their puppy and that there would be no more puppies.  THAT August 3.

And so it was that on August 13, Scott and I met up with Juline & Cindy & Mommy dachshund and Daddy dachshund & 5 adorable Baby Dachshunds!  Scott picked out the littlest of the 5, the “runtess” of the litter.  The following Wednesday, August 17, Scott and I were back visiting as our little runt opened her eyes for the first time!  Oh, my, gosh.  One cute, adorable little puppy, and two melted hearts!

And that, is how Ixchel came to join our rag-tag family!  What?  What’s that?  Her name?  It’s Ixchel!  Oh! Where did we come up with that name?

Well, you all know Scott is studying archaeology, right?  The area he wants to focus on has to do with Native American cultures, and includes the Mayans.  The Mayan pantheon included the goddess Ixchel.  Ixchel was Goddess of Summer.  Oh, and if you look that up, you’ll see she had numerous other duties.  Mars, the color red, midwifery, war.  We liked the Goddess of Summer part.

Ixchel our little goddess of summer!

Oh what have I resolved?  Three blog posts a week?  For those who post daily… or more often even than that – I have no idea how you do it!  One can’t go even a little while without thinking about what to write, or the week is already running away and one is struggling to catch up.

Saturday was Ixchel’s last obedience lesson. We’ve taken her through Puppy training and now Intermediate obedience.  She did relatively well.

What we’re seeing is, Ixchel is smart (yes, I know everyone’s dog is the smartest).  Well, she is.  Anything we strove to teach her during her classes, she learned.  We, on the other hand, have not always been the most consistent in her training.  In spite of this, she does well.  We probably won’t be enrolling her in Advanced level Obedience until summer 2012.  With Scott’s classes, Ixchel doesn’t get the practice during the week that she should.

This Saturday we also did doggy grooming for Princess Nikki.  In addition to her bath, I had her trimmed a little.  Okay, a LOT.  In some ways she now looks SO cute!  However, I think I had just a bit too much trim work done.  If I can get her to stand still long enough to get a picture, I’ll post it later, either tonight or tomorrow.  But, if it’s tomorrow, I MAY just count it as one of the three posts this week!

Grooming hasn’t always been high on our list of things to do for Nikki.  She hates baths so much.  And she is so timid, that she just shakes and trembles.  But she seems to do a little better with professional grooming, so this year I think she’s going to get more frequent baths, but done professionally, especially since Ixchel gets them every two weeks!

After class, and once Nikki was done with her spa treatment, we went up to Fairmount Park and walked the dogs for a while.  This, too, is a new experience for our 10 year old doggie, Nikki.

Should we ever become guardian for an overly timid dog like Nikki again, I think I know now NOT to honor their timidity, but to begin working immediately to draw them out.

With all those plans, one would think we would have done more work this past weekend.  Alas, the weekend proceeded to get away from us after devoting 40% of Saturday to the dogs.