Biggest Loser

With the main part of the house in complete shambles, we have had to be extra careful about what we leave lying around. Ruby has proven to be fairly trainable, but still has a lot of puppy curiosity in her. So we scan the available roaming space she has before leaving for work each morning, picking up any tools, parts, supplies, etc...just to make sure she doesn't get herself into big trouble. Sophie never bothers anything. She's what's known as 'the good one.' Uh-huh. Right.

Tuesday night we completed the main hookup of our new plumbing system (this is relevant, I promise). Wednesday morning we checked it and had no leaks. Even so, I spent Wednesday morning at work, very busy, but unable to get an ugly picture out of my head. That the new plastic lines we had installed would give way at the fittings in the basement. That the entire morning, since we had looked at all of it at 5:45am, there was water pouring into the basement. I pictured the theater room completely submerged, the equipment ruined. I pictured all the Christmas decorations going in the trash. I added up the cost of all the tools and mechanicals and mentally reviewed our homeowners policy.

I was unable to get away from work and barely even got to eat lunch with Kevin. But I had long enough to transfer a bit of my paranoia to him so he offered to go home and make sure all was well in the basement. Breathing a sigh of relief 45 minutes later when I saw him pop back up on my instant messenger at work, I was able to 100% focus on my busy day. He would have called immediately, had my horrific vision of a flooded basement been true.

And then I got an e-mail from him. With the following pictures. In order.

Warning: THESE PICTURES ARE GROSS.

When you get to the last one, see if you can figure out exactly what happened while we were away.

Poop.

More poop.

Puke. LOTS of puke.



More puke by the door...and more poop.




And yup, that's more puke. And an open container of Ruby food. Ahem.


I apparently didn't get the bottom dog food container fully closed and one of them is smart enough to get it open. I know the front part that was sitting open in the final picture was about half full. I didn't come close to scraping bottom when I fed Ruby that morning. We're guessing they teamed up. Ruby's pointy nose probably opened the food out of curiosity and she had a few more bites. That's just how she rolls.

But Sophie GORGED. For as long as she wanted between 5:45 and 11:30.

Kevin called me as I was looking through the pictures. First, assuring me that the basement was fine. And then explaining that instead of being met at the door by two happy, lonely dogs, neither of them would move from their spots on the furniture, or even look in his direction. Just faces of SHAME. Absolute shame. And from one, absolute physical misery.

Ruby was well-fed, clearly having eaten more than her share, but the prevailing feeling seemed to be shame from her. But Sophie...well Sophie's condition can only be described as BLOAT. Four hours later when I saw her, she could still barely walk. She had puked again (you're welcome for not taking pictures of THAT) all over her bed in the afternoon and her belly was so fat that she waddled. She looked like a Biggest Loser contestant on day one.

Now Ruby can get into trouble, but she's not a big eater. Not a gobbler any longer, not an overeater. As a matter of fact, as previously reported in this blog, she sometimes doesn't even eat all her food. But Sophie...well that's a different story. Sophie has never missed a meal in her 7 1/2 years of life. Never missed a crumb dropped or anything that might sound like a crumb. Never missed an opportunity to sit at the feet of someone holding something that LOOKS like food, with drool dripping from her big, droopy mouth.

Let's just say, Wednesday night, Sophie missed her first meal. And Thursday morning, she got a reduced portion of her regular serving. Even Thursday night, just a barely-level scoop. Finally by Friday morning, her shape was back to normal and she would look us in the eye again.

I'm wondering what sort of deal she made with Ruby to talk her into this crime, or if they intened to blame it on the cat.

Note to self: in addition to scanning the floor for things we don't want chewed up during the day, make sure the dog food container is shut tight.

...carry on.

Healing?

At least I THINK she's healing.

After a weekend of hard core home renovations and one cooped up giant dog, I made the call Sunday night to send Ruby back to camp today. Allan gave her a ride before school and informed them of her 'injury' followed by a call from me to explain further. I told them to make her take a time out if she seemed to be in pain. When I went to pick her up, 11 hours later, the report was that she hadn't had any problems at all. The doggie daycamp humans said she didn't jump up on anybody, but other than that, they noticed no difference at all. So I paid her tab and walked out the door with her...at which point she yelped like she was in pain again.

I swear its for attention some times.

At any rate, she is crashed out on the couch tonight, where I'm guessing she will stay until this time tomorrow with the occasional break for food and bodily functions. Whatever. I can't figure this dog out.

So week before last, Kevin and I are getting ready for bed upstairs and Ruby is patiently waiting (not) for her turn at the well for her nighttime drink. Kevin takes one of his contact lenses out, dropping it into the storage container and as he reaches to take out the second, this giant Great Dane tongue comes out of nowhere and slurps the lens right out of the container. In the blink of an eye, it was gone. Pun intended.

I laughed so hard I almost peed. There was a lot of 'what the HELL' from Kevin, but neither of us could help but laugh. Ruby, unaware as always, just sat back licking her chops. Apparently, contact lenses are somewhat tasty.

Thank goodness for disposable contact lenses!

Ruby handled the demo OK this weekend. She is still convinced that if she can't get to me, she must try, even if she can hear me through the sheets of plastic that protected the non-work areas of the house all weekend. So she got in trouble a few times for blasting under the plastic. Fortunately, we were able to take it all down Saturday evening as the dirtiest of the work is done for now. When it comes time to tile the floor, I'm sure Ruby will be in for another day at camp.

Nothing more today. Boring post...sorry. Favorite picture...

Happy New Year!

Pouting because the blanket doesn't allow her to bury toys.

Surviving the holidays is always good. Surviving it without being financially ruined and still able to button my jeans is a solid win. Surviving with no Christmas casualties as a result of the wonder dog is a downright miracle.

Props to Ruby for being on her best behavior for MOST of the holiday festivities. No, REALLY. Cookies cooled on the counter and she obediently did NOT help herself. Tempting sparkly decorations draped every surface and she simply observed. Wrapped packages, which must have been almost impossible to ignore, stayed wrapped. People came to the house and as long as she stayed on leash for a brief time and everyone gave her a treat, she was more than happy to mingle with the humans. She was unbelieveably well-behaved.

Well there was that ONE incident at her cousin Murphy's house in Wisconsin. There were no signs in the yard as to where the facilities were and Ruby has a hard time deciding where to poo anyway. So she waited until she was in the house and then left a lovely present on Aunt Pam's basement floor. But that was really just a case of being in unfamiliar territory after a 3-hour car ride. An isolated incident.

Some fun pictures from the holiday below:

 

What? It's comfortable.

 

Must. Stuff. New. Toy. Under. Couch.

   

Is there something in here for me?



Yummmm...bows.



PAY ATTENTION TO THE DOG. NOW.



I love you Sophie! I love YOU Ruby!!



DIRTY TRICK DIRTY TRICK!!!







A significant change in Ruby's eating habits have my scratching my head a little. I guess its just her growing up. But the dog that was once such a gobbler, such an inhaler of food that I had to resort to the bowl-in-a-bowl trick so she didn't puke it all up, is suddenly a grazer. I suppose it changed when we started leaving her out during the day. Maybe she realizes she can eat whenever she wants now. But I fill her bowl in the morning and most days, a considerable amount of food is still there at 4:30 when we come home. She finishes it then, as if it would be wrong to eat without an audience. And then I fill it back up at 5:30. She will graze throughout the evening, and then usually finishes it off right before bed. Nice that she's self-regulating. Some days she hasn't finished it, so I'm cutting back on the amount a little bit. Five cups a day rather than six. Still five times as much as Sophie eats. But Ruby still has lots of growing to do.



Unfortunately, I can't report that her injury is completely gone. Though we do feel it is somewhat better. She hadn't had any moments of intense pain for a couple of weeks. Until the visit to cousin Murphy's house. Not letting Ruby play seemed cruel so we just let them go at it. A couple of times, she yelped in pain and we tried putting her in her kennel, but then she was completely stressed because she could hear all the activity. We decided to play it safe and she slept in her kennel in the spare bedroom with us. At 4:45 she woke us up with a screeching, pained yelping. An alarm clock that wouldn't stop. We quickly got her out of the kennel. Seemed she must have just turned wrong on whatever hurts. For the next few hours she was happy to sleep on the bed with us.

Since then, she still favors her right side, but will still run and play or wrestle with Sophie whenever she has the opportunity. We've decided its a combination of having a slight injury...and being a gigantic sissy. We've isolated the pain to her shoulderblade, but nothing bone-related. Just a strain or a sprain probably and we can't do anything for it anyway. So she will heal on her own.

She still hasn't been back to camp, however the fact that I sit here surrounded by a half-demolished kitchen means she will probably be spending some time there the next couple of weeks. We have hung sheets of plastic to contain the dust, but if Ruby can peek under a piece of plastic, she feels an intense need to go through it. This will be interesting. How many drywall crumbs can a Great Dane consume before her stomach rejects it? We shall soon find out.

One change in all this construction that makes Ruby a very happy dog is that we had to do some rearranging of furniture, and moved her two favorite chairs to the bedroom. So even though I broke down and bought her a nice new VERY BIG VERY FLUFFY bed last weekend, she has spent the last few nights curled up and wedged into one of the chairs. She did lose her view out the front picture window though and she can't be happy about that during the day. The pub-height dining room table is in front of her window during construction. We half expected to see her standing on top of it that first day, standing guard for us to return home. But she has so far stayed on the floor...or the blanket-covered couch.

That's all for now.

Favorite picture. Having been in trouble most of the evening, Ruby finally gave up her quest for undivided attention from...everyone. Good thing the cuteness factor always pays off.





Injured Reserve



'Watching my stories.'

(Yes, that' is STILL L'Oreal 5.3 on her side. Seven weeks and counting)



Ruby has been pretty darn healthy in her first year. Other than the weird warts on her toes and the one episode of what we will delicately refer to as 'tummy trouble,' she's not had any issues. Until now. A couple of weeks back I saw the first sign that something was wrong, but wrote it off as a fluke. I put my hands under her chin to tell her hello and kiss her on the nose and she yelped loudly. A few days later, it started to happen more regularly. We have been able to rule out and narrow down the injury. It is NOT her teeth, foot, ankle, or plain old fear. All of those have been ruled out in one way or the other.

If she jumpes up to give hugs, she sometimes falls back down yelping in absolute pain and won't put her right front foot down. One time, she was literally on the floor howling for a good 2-3 minutes. If she raises her head quickly to attempt to catch a treat (she still can't do it, btw), same reaction. Its also happened once or twice fighting with Sophie, a few times jumping in fear (the garbage cans were terrifying Monday), and occasionally when she races after the squirrels. She favors her right side when she lays down, laying awkwardly.  I also gave her the giant bone that she loves on Sunday and she couldn't carry it straight. You could tell that it hurt her neck to pick it up. And it is big, but I've seen her carry it around LOTS of times. Current school of thought is that it is a toss-up between her shoulder and her neck. Or a combination of the two.

I called Dr. Burke about a week and a half ago and gave him our list of symptoms and potential causes. Among them, too much roughhousing at camp (although the symptoms don't directly correlate with a day at camp, they did get worse the last time she went. Understandably.). Too much jumping like a fool after squirrels. Or possibly, it COULD be, I mean the possibility EXISTS that the attempts to break out of her kennel have caused her some pain. Trying to break out to the point that she has pulled the front of the kennel so hard that it is rounded IN now and a small creature could easily escape if needed. Presumably she has done this with her teeth since she's yet to sprout opposable thumbs. This has to hurt her neck. It just has to.

So, under Dr. Burke's orders, no walks, no camp, no chasing squirrels, giving hugs, wrestling (with Sophie or anybody else). General calmness until she heals. And lots of lap-dog time. Or as much as Mom can stand.

We are hoping that she comes out of it and we don't have to do x-rays to try and diagnose this. My main concern is that they have to put her under anesthesia to do it, which I hate doing unless absolutely necessary. Then there's the cost. A $250 minimum outlay to find out, potentially, that she sprained her neck trying to chew out of a metal cage and all we can do is wait it out until it heals. Dr. Burke called again this week to check up on her and said if she isn't better after Christmas that he really wants to go that route. uggh. I'm really hoping it isn't necessary.

We took a huge step and decided that if her stress level from being kenneled was causing her physical harm, we need to try something else. So for about two weeks now, Ruby has had the Run Of The House during the day. We have developed an elaborate 'cat in-dog out' security system with the upstairs bathroom door. So far she's not cracked the code. The rest of the upstairs doors stay closed, protecting mattress pads and fluff-filled objects everywhere. Downstairs she's been very good, other than almost digging through the couch cushions in the front living room. She's trying to 'bury' her toys in it for some reason so we've had to resort to piling all the cushions on the couch and wrapping the whole couch in an old blanket. Eventually we'll get through that annoying phase/habit as well. I just hope the furniture survives in the meantime. But there hasn't been a single household accident, food theft, garbage spill, upturned or turned up anything. I think she just lays looking out the window hoping to see one of us pull in the driveway. The squirrels have not slowed down and any given morning there are at least a half dozen of them on the deck. So if she's paying attention, she's got plenty to occupy her time. I'm going to leave the TV on tomorrow anyway. On Animal Planet. Just to give her something to do. :)

We had an unofficial weigh-in a few weeks ago and Ruby tipped the scales at just over 98 pounds. I think we all expected her to be bigger by now. But Dr. Burke told me on the phone that a 1-year old Great Dane is like a 7-month old German Shepherd. I think that means she's not nearly done growing. I had heard that about this breed, but had never heard it put quite like that. He still expects her to end up in the 130-150 range when she's completely filled out.

On the good news front, her reaction to visitors was really put to the test this weekend and she passed with flying colors. Friday night we had some friends over and she warmed up to them almost immediately. I kept her on a leash until she was relaxed so she wasn't pacing around annoying everyone and stressing herself out. She did great and within an hour was snuggled up lap-dog style on my pretty blonde friend. :)

But the real test was Sunday. Monroe Family Christmas, here at our house. An extra 10 bodies in the house, including very small ones. We put Ruby in the kennel upstairs until everyone got in and settled. I figured if she was going to freak out, it was best she do it once and get it all over with. I was so please that when I did bring her downstairs (on leash), she was nervous, but very calm. I think everyone here gave her a treat and before you knew it she was plopped on the couch or wandering around saying hello to everyone, and just being very pleasant. Even with tons of food perched on the edges of all the counters, she was very well-behaved. My sister-in-law accidently knocked THE CAN off the edge of the counter once. I'm pretty sure Ruby had an mini-stroke from the next room, but she rebounded quickly.

Have a fabulous Christmas and New Years everyone. And thanks for reading!

Favorite picture...this is how I leave her every morning before work, ever-hopeful that her attention span will not wane long enough to remember the couch that needs to have toys buried in it. :)

Trouble Is As Trouble Does

My last update was shortly after the Great Sophie Bed Massacre of 2010 and just prior to the great Thanksgiving Day Mattress Pad Massacre of 2010. On the off chance that last one requires some explanation, I'll save the drama and just give you the Reader's Digest version.

Thanksgiving Day. Left home with Grandma and Grandpa for maybe 30 minutes. The little shit-dog snuck upstairs to the bedroom and dug a giant hole in the center of our mattress pad. A deliberate act of defiance for leaving her home. I'm sure of it. Only good news is, she stopped when she hit mattress. Black Friday sales being what they were, the replacement mattress pad was only $18.99, free shipping. Thank you Kohls.

So I didn't kill her.

As the Christmas decorations have gone up, Ruby has found plenty of additional ways to get herself in trouble. First, she paced in fear as the boxes came up from the basement. For a brief time we added outdoor lights to the 'things to be terrified of' list but that passed. After all the decorations are up, Ruby has learned that the following acts will get her in trouble:

• Taking candy out of the advent calendar.
• Taking ornaments off the tree.
• Walking around with a santa hat hanging out of her mouth.
• Grabbing ribbons off the tree on the front porch on her way to pee in the yard.
• Biting the tree lights.

To name a few.

Ruby being Ruby, Christmas decorations aren't the only way she's found trouble in the last couple of weeks. As the weather has gotten cold, very cold, her desire to spend adequate potty time in the yard is waning. The first big snow last week dropped about 7-8 inches in the yard. It's funny to remember that this was the dog who, in March, was peeing on the tiniest remaining pile of snow in the back yard because it was all she knew. But Friday night when it was snowing again, she was timid. By Saturday morning with piles of snow everywhere, she was nothing short of skittish. Where do I walk? Can I put my feet in it? How does it smell? WHERE DO I POOP!?!?

And THEN the snowblower started. She freaked. I put her in her kennel until we were done with the initial cleanup because she was so stressed out. But by afternoon, she had fallen in love with the snow. Running through the back yard like a gazelle, bounding through the drifts, and coming to the back door with piles of snow on her nose when I could get her attention. It also seems that the squirrels were extra busy this weekend, or at least extra visible. This picture was from our bedroom window. The tree is just outside and this big fat squirrel sat eating berries and openly mocking the dog. It was a busy weekend.

And then came Monday. Ruby was DEFIANT about peeing at 5:30 in the morning, but I dressed her in her sweatshirt to try and help the cold thing (didn't help). I finally got my coat on and stepped out with her where I outlasted her in the front yard, freezing my tail off right along with her until she gave in. Then she came in and refused to eat her breakfast. I think she knows its a workday and stalls thinking I'll give in and stay home with her. Since she won't eat, we put her food in her kennel with her.

At the end of Monday:

She must have tried desperately to get the bowl turned over, given the large dents in the bottom of it.

So Tuesday comes around and the routine continues. Put on sweatshirt (she hates that part), reluctantly leave the front door, pee because the cold won't let her hold it in, shiver annoyingly against the house. Sneak to the back door, then back to the front door, finally forcing the Mom out of the house to shiver in the cold. Give in and poop after pacing a good solid 4 minutes to pick a spot in the snow (WHY oh why is it so hard to pick where you are going to poop!?!?) Into the house to mope around and refuse to eat. In the kennel with the food bowl for the work day.

And today, we got THIS: 

Those black strips all over the floor are the pieces of the plastic tray that lined the bottom of her kennel. 

Let me clarify:

Ruby. Ate. Her. Kennel.

Clearly she is miserable in her kennel. But I'm sure you saw the video of what used to be Sophie's bed the LAST time we left her out to roam the house all day. So here's my plan. I will puppy-proof every inch of this house tomorrow morning. And we will leave her out. I will run home at lunch and make certain she hasn't destroyed anything. Or, more likely, I will clean up piles of fluff from the couch, or strips of what used to be our curtains, or I'll have to go price out new carpet after work.

Wish me luck.

Favorite picture of the week is easy.

Birthday!

So today is the day. Ruby is the big 01. Or the big 07 in human years. She celebrated with a pre-birthday fun day at doggie daycamp yesterday, exhausting herself to the point that she couldn't even get off the couch last night. After that fun bender, today was kind of a down day. I did take her for a walk. Our first since my ACL-eliminating accident on September 11. She was so excited to walk and was very well-behaved even when several bunnies taunted her from the darkness of the neighborhood. We had a discussion as we walked about how if she bolted, Mom was just going to have to let her go. So I'm sure that's why she was such a good girl. I topped off her morning bowl of food with a treat and left her for the day.

She desperately needed one (see previous post L'Oreal 5.3 Fiasco), so she had her first annual birthday bath tonight as well. It might not be everyone's favorite birthday activity, but it was just time. So right now she is in a horizontal position sacked out on the couch. Like all Great Danes.

So to backtrack a little, there have been plenty of Ruby Adventures, but my knee surgery and readjustment to work have put a cramp in my blogging. The first week back was pretty exhausting. This week has been better, and blessedly short, so here I am.

The squirrel watching continues. I'm not sure who was more interested. Dog? Or teenage boy?

Regardless, the little critters continue to mock Ruby openly. They've even gotten brave enough to venture up onto the deck to eat out of the chum bowl of corn and sunflower seeds. When she sees them, Ruby about goes right through the sliding glass door. They are smart little buggers. They move away from the door slowly, until they hear it slide. Then it's a race to the closest tree where they sit and cackle at her. It really is fun for the whole family.

I purchased a new food bowl a few weeks ago. It is huge and tall and very sturdy. The old one really wasn't tall enough for her and was made of melamine, so pretty much fell apart. (she's not the neatest drinker). She doesn't like water unless it is straight out of the sink or toilet anyway, so a couple of weeks ago we caved and just let her drink.

We call it the well and she drinks out of it every night. Much to the annoyance of the cat. To be fair, he always has that disgusted look on his face.



Among other adventures, Ruby has destroyed completely two of her remaining three beds. Fluff everywhere, beds in the trash. So she now spends her work days on a hard plastic floor. And I. Don't. Care. I'm done fixing beds.

Last week someone accidentally left Ruby out to have the run of  the house for the day. Nobody realized it until we all returned home. And nobody was more surprised than I that everything was still in place. There were no 'gifts' left anywhere in the house. Even the cat's door was open, her food and litter readily available. With such a success, we decided to give it a second try. Day two of Operation Leave Ruby Out went just as well. I suspect she spent those days laying in the chair in the front window, looking forlornly at the driveway waiting for someone, ANYONE, to come home and pay attention to her.

Day three, the youngest was home sick with a stomach flu. So we felt pretty confident that Ruby could have the run of the house without cause for concern. Around lunchtime I got a cryptic message from the sick one that Ruby was in trouble. Something about tearing up Sophie's bed and she had put her in her kennel for the rest of the day. I had no idea how badly day three had gone until I got the following video via iPhone, about an hour before my work day ended.

So what that WAS, is a waffle foam bed with a zippered cover. For some reason, the cat had taken up residence on it. I think to make sure that everyone noticed it and so that Ruby faced adequate punishment.

There was no missing it. I'm taking the price of dog beds out of her college fund. Enough already.

Favorite picture of the week...coming home from daycamp, enjoying the view out the moonroof...

All for now.

L'Oreal 5.3 Fiasco

A few weeks post-ACL reconstruction and feeling a little more human, I got a wild hair to, well, color my hair. Freshen up my look. Brighten my hair for winter. My lack of tanning and current super-dark black color gave me a bit of a goth look so on my way home from physical therapy, I stopped at the local market, bought myself two L'Oreal color/highlight kits in my favorite color combo, 5.3, and headed home to update my do. $30. Instant update.

I let the dogs out when I get home and they were thrilled to get out and have their dinner. Then Ruby, as she does, stayed glued to my side while I started step one of the hair color (the 5 in the 5.3).

That's when the fiasco started.

So I'm standing in front of the bathroom mirror in the old t-shirt with the rubber gloves on, squirting my head with color from the plastic bottle. Ruby is lying directly behind me, in case I should quickly try to escape. You can't be too careful apparently. At one point, as I was squirting color on the back of my head, there was a small bubble in the bottle. I squeezed extra hard to loosen it and heard the sound. I turned to Ruby to see if I had gotten any on the carpet and all looked OK.

If you've ever colored your hair and spilled the goop on anything, you know where this is going.

I finish my hair, put it up in a clip and turn to see a number of blotches of hair color on the bathroom carpet. (I know, I know, it's really ridiculous that someone put carpet in the bathroom, but someone did.) See, it takes a good 5-10 minutes for the coloring solution to appear as anything but clear. So I'm pissed off that I've ruined the carpet, even though I hate the carpet and we plan to replace it...someday. I'm on my hands and knees with an old rag trying to clean up the mess, when Ruby walks in.

And I see this:

My apologies for not even getting the greatest picture of the mess.

As you can see, Ruby is speckled with L'Oreal 5 above her eyes, on her legs, and down both sides of her body. I've watched a lot of CSI, so I can recognize a spatter pattern when I see one. As best I can tell, she was directly behind me with her feet neatly in front of her and her face turned up to watch me when the shower came her way. I can even match spatter patterns on her sides to identical residue on the carpet (or vice-versa) like you would map the constellations. It had also splattered the black on her nose, turning it a rusty red color.

Of course, by the time I see it and have assessed the damage, the hair dye is completely dry. Set in. Permanent. On the dog AND the carpet.

To make matters worse, the hair color took on the dog and the carpet, but not so much on me. One emergency visit to Colorific and $109 later the next day, and all is well. But for about 12 hours there, it was hat-city for me and humiliation for my dog.

When I picked her up from daycamp the next week, the girls at the front counter said 'we love the spots' and said they had decided a young child with a Sharpie must have gotten to Ruby over the weekend. I fessed up. Just me and some hair color. Nobody else to blame. :)

As I sit here tonight, nearly two weeks and a bath later, Ruby's spots are just as bright. I honestly don't know if they will ever come out. I've thought about mixing up the highlighter kit to see if we can at least soften them but there's not way she'd ever sit still. And then we would probably just need new carpet in other rooms too.

On the flip side, my hair looks great. For only $139. Oy.

A year old...REALLY?

As she sits here next to me, legs folded under her like a lawnchair in her post doggie daycamp state of exhaustion, I can't believe that Ruby is almost a year old. When I picked her from the litter of 8 at only 5 weeks old last December, it was because I looked down and saw that she had climbed into my lap in precisely the position she lays in right now, while I was distracted by 7 other energetic puppies. So as I've said before, it was more like she picked me.

It is remarkable how such a tiny body could grow...essentially 9 times her bring-home weight of 9lbs 2oz...in under a year. Nobody can lift her to weigh her any longer, so we're just guessing she's around 100 pounds. And at her back, she is officially table height. Her face rests comfortably on the kitchen table at any time.

For all my complaining about her various transgressions, I love this silly dog. Most days she's in trouble more than out of it, but it turns out she CAN be trained. When she looks at me like I'm the greatest human on earth, I know that at least in Ruby's world, I really am. And, on even my worst days, when everybody else on the planet is pissed off at me, I can always count on Ruby to look at me and smile her big, goofy, slobbering smile. She's really my best buddy and as I've recovered from this stupid knee surgery, it's been great having her by my side (or safely on the floor at my feet).

I have to return to work tomorrow, a few hours a day this week and then full time next week. I could lie and say I'm looking forward to it, but, well, that would be a lie. But at least I get to look forward to coming home to a wonderful family who, though sometimes collectively or individually pissed off at me, still support and love me, and to this big droopy-eyed, lovable dog, who will never see me as anything but perfect. That feels pretty good.

Enough of the sloppy stuff...

So I've written about Ruby's constant dismantling of various toys. Every once in awhile I try and patch some of them back together, unless they are too far gone and then they sleep with the fishes. Last week, deep in a Vicodin haze and needing something to do, I pulled out some of the headless, legless and stuffingless toys and started to patch. Then I got creative. Perhaps it was the drugs.

So that's formerly Rasta Monkey, wearing Floppy Squirrel's face as a mask, huddled up with Headless Horsey, now sporting Rasta Monkey's dreads. Together, they are now known as Squirrel Monkey and Rasta Horsey (who was very happy to have his head reattached to his body).

I guess I'm channeling my inner Sid (please get obscure Toy Story reference).

Ruby doesn't seem to care, she plays with them like she always did. I gotta wonder if she has nightmares though. :)

Favorite picture of the week requires a little explanation. That's an episode of America's Funniest Home Videos on TV. Two squirrels stalking a bowl of Halloween candy with one of those motion-activated scary hands that slaps when you get close. Ruby shot off the couch and started barking and leaping at the TV when she saw the raccoons. 

It must be so confusing for her. 'They're here, but I can't GET them!'

Carry on...

Out Of Office

So for once I have a legitimate excuse for not bringing you all a Ruby update. A week ago today I had ACL reconstruction surgery on my left knee. I've spent the better part of the last week in a horizontal position, whacked out on Vicodin, and being somewhat pathetic. To pass the time I've been watching a lot of home improvement television, doing a little sewing, and, well...sleeping off the Vicodin.

The before:                                                                                       The after:

Ruby spent two days at camp last week. That was just a win-win all the way around. She came home with a twisted ankle on Monday, but seemed to be over it by the time she went back on Thursday. She's had a hard time understanding why Mom is very hands-off. No snuggling on the couch as we did the day before surgery:




















For a day or two after surgery we pulled out the hide-a-bed and Ruby was thrilled that there was room for her (on my right side only).


She developed an immediate fear of both my knee brace and my crutches. So while a little fear of her knocking me over still exists, if I have either apparatus around me, it's a bit like a force field. She's getting  a little better with the crutches and just takes a wide path around me all the time.

While I've been recovering, Ruby has been up to a few projects of her own. First, she took on a little sewing project, but she didn't get past the thread.

Then, she decided to work on another fluff project, dismantling one of her beds. I believe that's three down now, officially.

Between that, terrorizing the cat, stalking the squirrels, abusing Sophie, barking incessantly at every noise in the house and running across the neighborhood (because she knows I can't chase her) every time I let her out, she has earned herself another day at camp tomorrow. Again, it's good for everyone.

Favorite pic of the week.  If you can't snuggle with Mom...Dad's a pretty good substitute:

Squirrel!

It is definitely fall, with temps dipping into the 40s making for chilly mornings and evenings, leaves changing, and days getting shorter. The only important thing about fall to Ruby, however, is the bushy-tailed creatures that mock her from every window and every corner of the yard. She stalks them. CONSTANTLY.

Squirrel encounters (or near-misses) this week are too numerous to count. Every time the back door is opened for her, Ruby races out and leaps off the deck at the trees. And leaps. And leaps. Roughly every other time there's a squirrel in the yard so she's rewarded regularly for her attempts. This keeps her going, watching, and waiting. She's learned of several great viewing locations. 

The spot in this picture (standing on the back of the couch) is a favorite, and often a perfect view with a small tree just a few feet from the window that the critters use to get on our roof (and chew through our satellite cable but that's another story). She's can't usually SEE the squirrel unless it moves, and this one was particularly stealthy, just hanging on the tree literally right in front of her nose. We told her it was there and she was on point. But as soon as she turned her head, it scurried up and onto the roof and she never saw it.

Another near miss when Ruby was coming home from camp Thursday and saw the squirrel in the front yard before I did. I thought she was going out the window, but I managed to get the car stopped and the back door open in time for her to chase it up a tree. There is one large tree in the front yard, the kind a squirrel can hide in, but can't get to other trees or roofs from. In other words, he has to come down sometime. Ruby camped out at the base of the tree, watching him for several minutes.

I was very proud of my big protective dog, patrolling the grounds, keeping out the critters. Until she got bored waiting, stood up, pulled a piece of bark off the tree and started eating it. With me, Ruby, AND Sophie all at the base of the tree, but with the more threatening of the three of us occupied with a piece of BARK, the squirrel saw his opening and made a break for it, racing down the tree, across the yard, and under the neighbor's fence to safety. By the time the dogs got their wits about them, there was nothing but a squirrel vapor trail and a little poof of dust under the fence. Our little fury invader proceeded to climb the neighbor's tree and heckle the dogs from above for the next few minutes. Pretty sure Ruby still thinks he's up there.

My favorite Ruby story of the week...she went to camp on Thursday, chased the squirrel (above) and then came in only to find out that the Dad had decided it was bath day. Sophie was already clean, and Ruby fell for the oldest trick in the book ("come get a treat!!!") and immediately had a bath. She managed a few laps around the house, and then was shivering cold. I know, she's a sissy. But it was chilly that evening, and since she ATE her kennel bed, she didn't have a place to keep warm. So I got out her hoodie. It did the trick keeping her warm and keeping the wet dog smell out of the couch. By then the activity of the day had set in. And she was too tired to fight it. I guess sleep trumps humiliation.

After her dinner at 5:30pm.

At 7:00 PM.

At 8:30pm (very little change in an hour and a half):

And at 9:30pm when Sophie was playing with the Dad and Ruby was fed up with the noise (make sure you have the sound turned up):

What a mouth on that girl!

In other news, she is now eating only twice a day, but still 6 cups a day. Occasionally she seems to think I've forgotten to feed her before bed, but she's not waking me up in the middle of the night, so I'm calling it good. And not a single potty accident weeks and weeks now. Also, I finally watched Homeward Bound with her. She digs that movie. I mean, who doesn't?? It's a classic. 

We are still sticklers for the 'no dogs on the bed rule.'  Even if we got rid of the queen-size and moved to a king, there wouldn't be room for her. And the bulldog. AND the cat. So the rule stands, but it doesn't keep her from trying. 

Favorite Ruby Picture Of The Week:

Stay classy, girlfriend.

Welcome Back.

After a week rejuvenating in sunny Jamaica...wait, no, that's not EXACTLY how it went. Thanks to Tropical Storm Nicole, the vacation wasn't relaxing, rejuvenating, or sunny. Mostly wet and stressful. Wet and stressful with friends, but still.

ANYwho...Ruby had to live without her favorite human (me) for a whole week. Once again three of the four kids tag-teamed pet and house care and all went well. I'm told there were a couple of Ruby romps through the neighborhood, and she ate another of her beds. She also spent two bonus days at doggie day camp. I tried to 'talk to her' on the phone from the Atlanta airport (what else is one to do during a 6-hour layover). She was deeply engaged in the conversation until a squirrel bounced through the front yard. That was the end of that.

So after the most stressful vacation in recent history, and then 17 hours of travel to get home to 48 degree weather, my greeting was something like this:



Remarkably, it was the highlight of the week. :) (I apologize for the commercial...YouTube.)

Since returning home, she's gone about her daily business. Chasing one of her two butterflies, and getting to know her new friend, who we call Rasta Monkey. He came directly from the Montego Bay airport and he annoys the living daylights out of her. Which makes it fun for everyone. I can't even get a decent pictures of her with it.




A few other developments...Ruby is officially down to two feedings a day. She hasn't had an accident in the house for over a month now. Well over a month. The Bell, originally hang on the back door for potty alerts is now used for squirrel stalking as well. But hey, as long as she gets hte meaning behind it.

The following chart outlines the remainder of Ruby's 'free time.' Please don't make fun of me. Charts speak to me.



She excels at being annoying right now. Case in point:



I guess we call that the new version of a laptop. Or a lap dog. Or a laptopdog.

And my favorite photo of the week:



All for now...