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Tag Archives: dog

it’s a dog’s life

20 Wednesday Jan 2010

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

dog

It is the dog’s ‘birthday’.

Since she was a rescue puppy, we don’t know the actual date of her birth.  But, like most things in life, it works just as well if we just pick a day and stick with it.  So this is the dog’s special day.  Because every day isn’t a dog’s special day…. wait a minute, why are we doing this again?

Oh yeah, because we love that dog.

In years past, I baked her special doggie birthday muffins with bacon.  It turns out there is a medication for that.  I do not plan to bake her anything this year.

The muffin recipe idea came from an actual cookbook.  I think I paid money for that book, although the purchase would have been in the name of my cookbook collection, not with plans for extensive usage.  I did make a few things, back when I was in the first-dog-honeymoon phase.  Then some of the recipes called for beef liver liquified in a blender, but I just couldn’t go there.   Just as a note:  although there are many main dish options in this cookbook — ‘Gobble Down Goulash’ and ‘Pawsitively Pleasing Pasta’, for example —  there is no Kitten Pot Pie, which I expect, if given a menu she could read,  is the very entrée Kenzie would choose.

But who am I to suppose such a conclusion?  Let’s let her tell us what she really wants.

*

My Perfect Day

by The Dog

Sleep on (or in) the master bed with Big D, my head on Jane’s pillow.

Wake up to the aroma of the kids’ breakfast cooking downstairs — time to check out what the Little One dropped so far.

Do yoga stretches:  down dogggggggg, uuuuuuuuup dog…  ahhhh.  Roll over for belly rubs from Big D.

Wander downstairs to find that the basement door that normally seals me off from the cats’ food bowls?? It is inexplicably left wide open.  Whoa.

Finish all cat food in bowls, and all surrounding schnibblets on the floor.  Consider the treats kept in the box of litter (crunchy on the outside, chewy in the middle… ) but reconsider when I hear Jane making coffee.  She might drop some beans.  L-O-V-E coffee beans.

After a quick drink out of the toilet to wash it down (refreshing!), I go to the back door and scratch to be let out.

Run around maniacally in the back yard, chasing all birds and squirrels off of the bird feeders.  Hey — if this is my dream day?  I actually catch one for the first time.

Tastes like chicken.

Do my ‘business’ in Jane’s flower bed, then scratch my claws into the mud in that illogical dog behavior that looks like I am trying to cover it up but I never do.  The mud feels good on my paws.  Hmmmm, what smells so GOOD out here today?

Scout out location of some possum poo for rolling in later.  No, now.  No, later.  No, must do now.  No, save it for later.  No — oh, I can’t decide.

Come running when Jane yells out the door “DON’T YOU DARE ROLL IN THAT!”  Puzzle for just a moment — how does she know I am about to roll in something pleasantly pungent?  Wasn’t she making coffee?

Come trotting in nonchalantly and go to food bowl to pretend that I never ate all the cat food and therefore I am hungry for my breakfast.

Refuse to eat dry dog food breakfast until canned food is mixed in.  (C’mon man, it is my birthday after all!)

Scratch at front door this time.

7.3 seconds after door closes, bark to come back in.

Stare at Jane sitting at computer, writing with a cat on her lap.

“Long walk, please.”

Feel dumbfounded that Jane has such lousy hearing.  I can hear the Fed Ex man drop a paper clip in his truck 10 houses away, but she is so human.

Momentarily distracted by squirrel on the suet feeder by the window.  That squirrel makes me very agitated.

Back to Jane.   Still typing.  Maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a little while….

{6 hours later…}

What, huh? What time is it?  ~yawn~  Almost time for dinner, that’s what time it is!

*

So, we love the dog a silly amount and we will enjoy her arbitrary special day and use it to remind us that all good things do come to an end so we can just enjoy every day with her now.  That was an awkward sentence but I think you know what I mean.  Her birthday will include an actual walk in that dream day somewhere.  If we find a squished roadkill furry woodland animal on the road, I will let her sniff it this time (but not roll on it).  And she’ll get lots of love.  And, possibly, some wet dog food mixed with rice and sculpted into a squirrel for dinner.  Something that can hold a candle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In fond memory of our good dog friend Angel, who passed away a week ago today and would have loved to share a birthday squirrel with Kenzie.  She was much loved and is missed.

“If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.”

Will Rogers, 1897 – 1935

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Oct. 23rd? Now that’s scary

23 Friday Oct 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in seasons, something important, I'm sure

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

dog, Grinch, holidays

Frequent readers (hi Dad) may recall that December 23rd is a bit of an issue for me.  It is usually the breaking point of the self-induced holiday hoopla, and consequently the single most likely day of the year for my head to fall off.  This year, I have a personal campaign of positive thoughts to make December 23rd a good day, at least a normal day, at best a calm, peaceful, centered day.

Only two months to go.  I have a team of doctors working ’round the clock on this effort, and have enlisted the help of my dog, who is also a helpful sort of gal.

First of all, she has been working on exorcising my inner grinch, which is symbolized by this stuffed grinchy toy.  In his June photo, he still had a mischievous look on his face:

devilish grinch

Kenzie has been working him over, and showing him who is boss.  This must be helpful to me in some subconscious way.  I like how he appears to be waving his little grinchy hand to say “uncle, already!”:

I'm helping!

After many months, he lost his santa hat (but, sure, not his head), and has sustained a small rip in his leg, which he claims is just a flesh wound…

I think he is a goner, and I am going to be just fine.

ouch

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goodbye kitty

06 Tuesday Oct 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Motherhood, Writing

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

cat, dog, Jane Koenen Bretl, pets

The last two weeks, I’ve looked out the window what feels like 500 times, waiting and watching for the cat to come home.

She went out at night, like she had 500 times before.  Most every day, for six years, she went outside for a while then came back, a few hours or a maybe a day later, her little round white face popping back up by the patio door, her mouth opening in near silent meows that couldn’t be heard through the glass.

One day last spring, she did not come back for a day and a half, and I was worried.  I walked along the woods behind our neighborhood, calling her and watching the bushes for a sign of a rustle.  Then, just like that, she came trotting out from the brush, her tail in a happy question mark, ready to be scooped up into my arms and carried home.

She always loved to be outside.  It was where she was happiest, ever since she was a kitten.  She did not catch birds or chase mice — she just seemed to like the freedom, even long before we brought home the dog.  All our previous cats had been indoor only, because letting them outside seemed too dangerous.  But there was no question with this one; to keep her locked up would seem cruel.

We knew we took a chance that her life may be a shorter one, but wanted to make it a happier one.

She was always my garden companion all spring, summer and fall.  When I went out to plant or weed or prune, she would trot out of the woods and come wind around my ankles, waiting for a pet from muddy hands.  Then she would wonder about, and keep me company.  For years, I think we were both hiding outside from noisy children…  In the years I ran my outdoor children’s portrait business in my backyard, she would sometimes come “help” with the shot, and some families had portrait proofs with the cat in them.  Surprise!

She had a reluctant yet softening relationship with the dog.  She had an on-again, off-again relationship with Buster, a male stray that courted her so often we gave him a name.  Buster, the cowboy of stray tomcats.  Oddly, that first night she was missing, I saw Buster for the first time in three months — he startled me in the dark yard as I scanned the rainy night, walking with my flashlight.  He froze with that deer-in-the-headlights look, which I’ll probably now always think of as a cat-in-the-flashlight look.  I whispered “Do you know where she is?”, but he was no help at all, a cowboy cat of few words.

So, I have kept searching, walking not just the perimeter of the woods but all through the brush and branches and along the creek, looking for any sign of her.  I emailed neighbors with a photo, asking if anyone has seen her.  I put up flyers at the vet office and in surrounding neighborhoods, and knocked on doors of people I don’t know asking if I can search the woods behind their houses.  I know there are coyotes that roam the neighborhoods here.  I know that a Yorkshire Terrier disappeared from his nearby wooded backyard three nights after Kitty was last seen.  I know what I find in the woods may not be pleasant.   That is the image that haunts me most.  But I’ve thought for two weeks that if I could just find something, I could stop hoping and stop watching and stop listening for a tiny squeak of a meow at the door.  Since that has not happened, it is now time for me to just let go.

Some well-meaning friends have suggested that she might have always lived a double life, and has had a second “home” that she visited on a regular basis when she stayed out all night before.  Maybe That House just switched to the canned food she was always begging for, so she ditched us with our dry kibble.  Maybe They decided that she should be kept inside at their house from now on, because she is so beautiful and they did not want anything bad to happen to her.  That’s a happier story, and really all of life’s stories are up to us to write.

Someday, maybe I’ll be able to pen one of those heartwarming tales of the pet that disappeared for a long time, and against all odds found its way back home after many adventures and mishaps along the way.  That would be a fun story, but I am going to stop crafting that one in my head, at least for now.  It is time for me to say goodbye.

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a funny thing happened on the way

19 Tuesday May 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Motherhood

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

cats, coyote, dog

While on the way to the vet’s office for dear dog’s annual shot-fest and general probing, I received a call from a concerned neighbor.  She had been watching a large coyote in the adjacent yard with amazement and curiosity;  a very rare sight here in our burb.  She was taking pictures of the huge animal sunning itself, when she suddenly saw our cat heading in that direction, pursued by not one but two amorous tomcats.  (There has been a lot of catting around, a springtime hobby of Kitty and enviable aspect of the neutered cat pal lifestyle.)

The neighbor quickly realized the danger sweet Kitty was in, and reached me on my cell just as I pulled in to the vet office, stool sample and nervous dog in hand.  With visions of a possible trip right back to the vet with an injured (or worse) Kitty, I blew though the door blabbling some incoherent story about coyote and cat and neighbor.  They said “leave the dog and run!”, so I threw the leash and tossed the baggie of poo at the receptionist as I sprinted back out the door.

I am quite sure these people are not paid enough for what they do.

Long story short, after Kind Neighbor and I wandered through the woods calling her name (and listening for coyote footsteps), Kitty came trotting back out into the sunshine with her tail in its happy question mark shape.  I scooped her up before she could even rub against my ankles and carried her back home, with my nose nuzzled in her white fuzzy neck.

Her tomcat friends had made themselves scarce.  One boy in particular has been such a frequent admirer around our house that we have named him.  He is Buster.  We don’t know where he lives.  He is scruffy and tough and looks like he has packed a lot of living into about eight lives.  He is the lonesome cowboy of cats.  I imagined him faced with the coyote in the woods, his beloved female in danger, throwing himself in front of her just as the hungry beast with saliva-dripping fangs lunged for her neck, sacrificing his last life for his true love.  I thought if I never saw him again, I would know why.  And how could he not do it, when she is such a sweet girl?  Poor Buster.

his true love?

Of course Buster wandered through the backyard about three hours later, probably after his afternoon siesta, looking to see if she was outside again.  Apparently his hero services were not required.

Which leads me to the question: what to do now?  Kitty is an outdoors-loving cat, and not just because of her active social life.  She had been a stray kitten, and clearly loved being outside from the day she came to live with us.  All our previous cats had been indoor cats, but it was clear this one was happiest when allowed to roam around the garden and woods.  When she is outside, she looks like she is smiling.

Does the responsible pet owner do everything possible to prolong the pet’s life to its maximum, or let her sometimes go free to live a happy life that might be shorter?  Holding her in my arms, I wanted to protect her forever.  After her own nap, she wanted back out into the sunshine.  I let her go.  (Then last night I dreamed of finding nothing but white clumps of fur in the backyard the next day.)

I went back to get the dog, and thanked the understanding and caring staff at the vet’s office.  Back home, I pondered this familiar dilemma in the life of a grown-up: when to let go.  Of pets and kids and careers and life’s baggage.  Maybe pet decisions are good practice for the tween years.  Life is full of coyotes, but Kitty does not live in fear.  I’m still working on it.

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Kilborn conniption

19 Sunday Apr 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Writing

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Afraid, book tour, dog, Jack Kilborn, Joe Konrath

Jack Kilborn paid a visit to our house, and our dog had a conniption.

As usual, my adventures with this intrepid author-on-a-mission started out innocently enough.  He had blogged about his upcoming “book tour on a budget”, repeating his 2006 grass roots marketing, manically ambitious yet cunningly practical, value added, trend-setting 600+ bookstore book signing extouraganza.  (New!  Now 30% more effective than the previous formula with extra cost fighting power!)  He is promoting his new book Afraid, which I now own and has freaked me out so badly with its hard-core-gore that I can’t crack the cover again.

He had already traveled 742 miles and dropped in on 47 book stores in a couple days.  We offered this weary traveler a good night’s rest, and knew we would likely have a Saturday night far more interesting than usual.

As you may suspect, he is fascinating to talk to.  He tells great stories.  It was a hoot and an honor to have him visit and have the opportunity to shoot the breeze for hours.  Unfortunately I am such a new newbie that I did not even know what to ask him, this author with half a bazillion books in print, sitting in our living room.  After reading along on his 31 day blog tour, I had read the 283 Q&A interviews he had already done; with a mind like a steel sieve, I managed to ask lots of questions to which I already knew the answers then mentally thump myself on the head.  I hope I was at least charming in a dumbfounded kind of way.  He gave me good advice.

joe, friend of dogs I am a big fan of his blog The Newbie’s Guide To Publishing,  with its archives of extremely helpful and generous information for new writers like me.  His real name is Joe Konrath.  He’s funny.  Look at his picture.  How scary could he be?

Then something went awry…

Maybe she sensed the creative mind that wrote a scene involving a jingling dog collar with no dog in it.

Maybe she was really ticked that he would not share his beer.

*

*

*

Whatever the reason, this is apparently who the dog saw sitting in the recliner:conniption producing visitor

She slept with one eye open all night.

She is, as I type, growling in her sleep even though he left the house six hours ago.

She had a canine conniption.

*

They made a truce this morning, my befuddled pet and bewildered guest.  After he left, I realized I did not remember to take a picture. (Mind, sieve, daggnabbit.)

It was a Saturday night to remember.

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pet pal finder

13 Monday Apr 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Bo, cat, dog, first family, pet adoption, petfinder.com

Petfinder.com = internet dating for dogs (and cats).

New pets in the news  — you have seen the new first pup Bo’Bama, right? — have suddenly spurred lots of spirited discussion about ways to find a new pet.  Hey, when looking for just the right pal and simultaneously trying to run a (messed up) country, their path seemed as reasonable a method as any.  So this dog did not work out in his first home, and now he gets a really nice house;  it’s all good.  And, none of our business, really.  I think the First Family set a fine example by carefully considering and researching their pet before adopting.

I found our last cat on petfinder.com, a centralized search site for adoptable pets.  I spent many late evenings, when all reasonable members of my household were sleeping, browsing the selection of kittens available in my area.  Petfinder lets you set pet parameters such as breed, age, size, gender;  then gives you the closest geographic matches, most from shelters or foster homes.  I viewed so many little kitten faces, many of them carefully posed by those marketing geniuses at the shelters. After viewing hundreds of cat photos and profiles, I found The One I wanted.  Big D did foolishly ask, given that there might be several thousand cats in our state, why were we driving to Indiana to get a kitten?  But when internet dating, sometimes you make a connection…  OK, so I never actually did internet dating for a human, but I guess it would be the same???

Recently we did another online search for a possible second dog.  Same deal — I was sure we would “know her when we saw her.” Most of the dogs have a little backstory written with all kinds of romantic, enticing details (there are those marketing folks again)… Tabitha the dog likes long walks by the beach and snuggling by the fire on a snowy evening.  Lola the dog likes drinking pina coladas, and taking walks in the rain…  you get the picture.  But it is the eyes of the animal in the photo — that’s the match-maker for me.  This time, we both did the searching, but did not find The One.  It was not the right time for the right dog.  Someday.

So, for now, our pup has her neutered dog pal next door.  The cat is safe from another possible predator.  We will watch vicariously as another family enjoys their new pet.  Welcome home, Bo.  Just don’t chew anything that belonged to Lincoln, or you will be in big trouble, little fella.

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the pre-wash cycle

19 Thursday Mar 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Motherhood

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

dog, pre-wash cycle

There is an ongoing debate in my household about the “best” way to load the dishwasher.  I just put the dishes in.  Apparently that is not exactly right.  Apparently it is very important to stack them using a very complex logarithm that maximizes the mean number of individual dishes that can be wedged into every nook and corner.  It does not seem to matter much to this particular member of my household (who shall remain nameless) that the dishes do not get as clean when there are 537 of them in a single load.  I end up putting them through the dishwasher again a second time when this unnamed person leaves the house.

I think the dishes come out bright spanky super-clean when I load the dishwasher the “not as right” way.  Especially when I use the pre-wash cycle.

Before activating pre-wash, be sure to check the back of the dishwasher for something scary:

check the back for something scary

Activate pre-wash. (Note the cat looks disgusted about the whole spectacle.)

prewash

Handy tip: the pre-wash is also self-cleaning. (Even the top of the nose.)

selfcleaning

Note To Self:  set the real sanitize button after every pre-wash.

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TGIF

13 Friday Mar 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

dog, tgif

I just don’t know what else I can say about this one.  Come Friday, she enjoys a refreshing beverage as much as the next dog.

prewash

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neutered dog pal

10 Tuesday Mar 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs, Photography

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

dog, friends, neuter

Kenzie has a new friend.  He is very cute.

dog pals

He has a great smile.  And other appealing qualities.

archie smile

They romp and play and get along very, very well.

slirpy smooch

Then, later, it’s nice to kick back and share a stick.

kickin'back

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remember this all year

28 Saturday Feb 2009

Posted by Jane Bretl in get along like cats and dogs

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

dog, Grinch, karma

grinch1

Don’t be a Grinch.  This advice applies to all 365 days of the year.

Bad things happen to Grinches.  It’s karma.

grinchfacegrinchsniff

grinchouchlegEven the dog knows that grinchiness should be stopped, whenever possible.grinchbutt

However, I think she may have taken today’s lesson a little too seriously.

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← Older posts

jane, candid

In 2009, I started this blog to share my sometimes thoughtful, sometimes funny, occasionally irreverent thoughts on motherhood, writing for publication and myriad creatures that got along as cats and dogs.

One day, I felt like stepping away from living out loud for awhile. Eh, life happens.

Fast forward five years -- I'll gloss over the details for now -- save to say that lucky for me an unexpected detour has provided some new material.

So here I am, standing at the corner. I've been here before, wondering which way to go. This time I choose living.

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