Friday, August 27, 2010

To The Moon

Because she's been extra dorky this week, Ruby's blog is in need of an update.

We had company for dinner both Tuesday and Wednesday. Ruby is still very timid around people she doesn't know, but then warms up. She can be intimidating because of her size. People who don't show any fear, she warms up to right away. Anyone who is visibly afraid, she backs away and barks. Or hides behind me. Such a sissy. Anyway, she made friends with our traveling buddy, John, on Tuesday night. But not without a warning bark every time he would leave the room and come back. We decided she has some sort of missing synapse in the short-term memory compartment of her tiny Great Dane brain. It was like he was brand new even if he just went in the bathroom.

Kevin spent some quality time tormenting her Tuesday night by throwing Butterfly onto the pergola over the deck. Ruby has no concept of UP so would lose it completely and just freak out trying to find it.

Thursday, she went to camp. Running out to greet me, as always, she threw her big stupid paws over the swinging door at camp. The staff there was giggling at her, calling her a dork. I couldn't agree more. On the drive home, she was sitting in the front passenger seat, changed positions, and before I knew it, was mooning all the cars in the right lane. Her butt was hanging completely out the passenger window. And she looked very comfortable and content. I had hold of her collar just in case she slipped.

I've never so desperately wanted a picture. But with one hand on the wheel and one on the dog, I was out of luck.

Your welcome, Scott. ;)

This morning, after dropping Allan at school, she rode the rest of the way to Towanda with her head out the moonroof. Wind blowing the big flapping jowls around. And she was making her ridiculous Chewbaca noise into the wind. It was hilarious, and one of the dorkiest things I've seen her do in awhile.

We had to head to the vet this morning for a Bordatella booster. That brings me to the only pictures of the week.

First, looking at the door out...desperately wanting to run away...














And this is how stressed this puppy gets at the vet. I guess if I were her, I might feel the same way.




91 pounds today. 9 months old. :)

Sunday, August 22, 2010

First, 'regular posts' means something different to everyone. So stop hassling me. ALLAN.

Ruby has been surprisingly good lately. No illegal snacking, only the occasional romp through the neighborhood (which she likes to think of as her BIG backyard), no potty messes, thanks to that elaborate system of open doors, closed doors, propped doors, and bells. It's a bit of a maze in the middle of the night but we've learned to deal. She occasionally still breaks the rules of course. Including the NO DOGS ON THE BED rule:

Ahem.

While visiting some great friends in Massachusetts last weekend, Ruby stayed home alone with The Boy. All went well, nothing was out of place once we returned and Ruby was well-exercised and happy to see us both. The intense heat is starting to subside so she is getting regular walks and is still going to day camp about once a week. The kids start school tomorrow so we have a whole new schedule to deal with. Will have to see how that goes. I'm not even sure who gets home first starting tomorrow. The boy, I believe. So that will make Ruby very happy. She loves him almost as much as she loves me. Almost.

She's been very healthy and this weekend I even took her off the Benadryl to see if whatever was wrong with her skin has subsided. So far so good. It's clear that the Benadryl had a nice calming affect on her. Now that it's gone, she's a bit of a wild child again. Her Crazy Puppy Runs through the house are very exciting. She did manage to take out a lamp this week, snapping the shade from the lamp. Everything but the bulb survived with a little creative bending. That was all due to a crazy puppy run. But it's hard to get mad at her. She's just such a big goof.

Her fluff obsession continues. This week, both a slipper and her favorite squirrel stuffed toy bit the dust. The slipper was hers, which apparently means 'hers to destroy.' So from now on, if she is seen with something containing fluff, it gets confiscated immediately.

She does have one favorite toy. We just call it Butterfly. It was a gift from her cousin Murphy when she was just a wee tot and she LOVES it. Butterfly will disappear from time-to-time and then someone will find it under furniture or stuffed in the couch cushions, or some other random hiding place. When Ruby catches site of Butterfly, she lights up, does her Jack Russell leap, and will stop at nothing to get it. I find it rather adorable that she can fit all of Butterfly in her mouth and her big flappy gums cover up any trace of him.

Sometimes when she's really bored, she plays catch with herself. A few days ago, she was throwing Butterfly up in the air and he accidentally went behind the couch. Talk about a stressed out dog! I wasn't sure she was going to survive.

OMG he's DOWN there! I can't reach him!!













SEEEE!!!














FINALLY!














She needs to get back to the vet on Friday for a bordatella. I will have an official weight after that. Tomorrow is her 9-month birthday. My gift to her is to not yell at her for anything all day. We'll see how that goes. I don't think Dr Burk will have any concerns with her growth.














Favorite picture of the week...she's started backing in and sitting down. On people. On furniture. On the front seat of my car (she's officially big enough to ride shotgun and see over the dash with her feet on the floor and butt on the seat). On Sophie if she's sitting still...and Sophie is usually sitting still. And, if you sit on the floor, you run the risk of becoming a seat for Ruby as well.


All for now...

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Wrasslin'

Seriously, this never gets old.

A portion of this evening's wrestling match...

Friday, August 6, 2010

Cans and Bells.

Having been publicly chastised by The Boy for not living up to my promise of regular updates to the blog, I am taking a break from my 'day off' to write another blathering blog about that big galoot we call Ruby.




When we last left our slobbering puppy, I had just reported on her consumption of an entire batch of M&M cookies (M&M is a registered trademark of M&M Mars. any similarities to persons, living or dead, is strictly coincidence. offer void where prohibited) Later that same week, I got a call from Jamie at work that started with 'YOUR DOG...' Uh-oh. Jamie had put cinnamon rolls on a baking dish and had a seat in the living room while waiting for the oven to heat up. 'I turned my back for 2 minutes Mom!' Ruby ate 5 of the 8 cinnamon rolls before Jamie's cat-like reflexes stopped her progress. They caused her little gastrointestinal issues, other than some serious gas for the next three days. And let's just say, it smelled nothing like cinnamon rolls. Jamie was a trooper and said 'I was only going to eat three cinnamon rolls anyway.' What a sport.

Cute and adorable and blog-worthy as it is, the dog eating off the counter is unacceptable. Yelling doesn't work and she is hard to catch in the act. And so far, we've not found ANYTHING she won't eat. So, we've pulled out the big guns to combat this latest behavior issue.

It is known simply as 'THE CAN.'



The can is just what it looks and sound like. Except it has a handful of pennies in it. Aunt Pam gave us the idea for THE CAN. A few times of shaking the can loudly when Ruby is... 1)eating Sophie's food 2)chasing the feline 3) counter-surfing 4)barking at people daring to walk in the neighborhood 5) snorking through the neighbor's compost pile 6)digging in the yard 7)etc 8)etc 9) etc...renders her so terrified she cowers and hides. Even food won't bring her near when she sees THE CAN. It is so effective, we have to use it very sparingly. Even picking up THE CAN quickly and causing the aluminum to pop or a penny to shift sends her scurrying for cover. I'm thinking of marketing THE CAN. Maybe I can get that dog whisperer dude to put his name on it.

So now, if there are baked goods of any kind unsecured on the counter, THE CAN will be found sitting at the edge. She will see it, and then go lay down as if to say 'i'll be a good dog i promise i'll be a good dog i really really will!'

Ruby's other new slip-up is in the poop department. We seem to be stumbling on the ability to TELL the humans it is time to go out. So several nights in a row, she snuck downstairs and pooped in the front living room. When we shut doors, she pooped in OUR bathroom. And even during the day, she would be unable to tell us she needed to go out. Another friend, with a tiny snack dog, gave us a great idea.

We call it THE BELL.



Ruby caught on right away, as did Zamboni the cat though it is more delightful toy than alarm device for him. Ruby uses it for good, and evil (there's a cat in the yard and I need to chase it), but she is using it. Training her on it was easy. I won't open the door until she rings it. One morning when she had been sent to isolation in her kennel for the night for NOT popping before bed (not so much as punishment, just because I knew she would go in the night), she was whining to wake up. I opened her kennel, she RACED to the door and rang that bell like the cook on a cattle drive.

Since it seems to have caught on with her, I need to get a couple of bells. Then I can stop bringing one to the bedroom door every night.

Maybe I'll market this as well. I'll do an infomercial. I'll make millions.

Ruby recently broke the 80 pound mark. That means she weighs more than a bag of concrete. That means I can't lift her AT ALL any longer. She's still taking 6 Benadryl a day for the breakouts on her feet. If I miss a dose, I will see her chewing and licking her feet. I hope this stops after summer. Or that the Benadryl had some calming effect. But it seems to do the opposite. **sigh**

Zamboni the cat has been spending considerable time outside this summer. He has a couple of cat friends that we see him hanging out with and they usually appear fairly companionable. Last week something went terribly wrong with the cat we call Big Orange Cat and a scuffle broke out outside the living room window. Zam came in unscathed, but shaken. Big Orange took off. Ruby was in the family room window on point. Not sure if she was worried about her cat or simply curious. I'd like to think her brain goes that deep, but let's face it, this is the dog that is afraid of THE CAN. So probably not. But the picture was cute:



As if she didn't have enough reasons to attack every dark object, leaf, stick, and acorn on the ground right now, it is cicada season. And Ruby finally got one. Their noise is deafening. Otherwise, they are completely harmless. And since there are plenty of them, I've sacrificed a couple for Ruby's enjoyment.



Call PETA. I. Don't. Care. It's funny.

I always like to leave with my favorite picture of the week. I started down the basement stairs last week and saw a few piece of fluff on the floor. When I got to the bottom, I found this:



At least it was her own bed and not one of our couches or something. Brat.

More later.

Ruby

Ruby
Ruby at 5 weeks.

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