Dogs – Page 5 – Into the West

My Walking Week

I did very well the first week of May, managing to meet my goal of 7,000 steps six out of seven days:

I took Sunday off from fitness because Terry and I celebrated our 26th wedding anniversary two days early.

Monday, Apollo and I took our longest walk of the week, an hour long meander around the neighborhood at dusk. We saw a few flowers and a strange small dog with a pink mohawk who got very excited when Apollo walked by the front yard on the sidewalk. Pedometer: 10,790 steps

Killer pink pooch — Click photo to see the rest of the album.

Tuesday, Apollo and I took a brisk forty-five minute walk around the area. Pedometer: 7,941 steps

Wenesday, I knew I wouldn’t get a chance to walk Apollo in the evening because Terry and I were meeting a couple for dinner and a concert after work. So I took half my lunch hour and walked around the park behind the American Century towers on the Plaza. Pedometer: 7,640 steps

Thursday morning, I took Apollo on a short pre-dawn walk for thirty minutes. My vanpool is leaving later now (at a quarter to seven), so getting up at my normal alarm time of five o’clock leaves me quite a bit of time to get some exercising in before getting ready for work. And, it allowed me to mow part of the lawn in the evening. Pedometer: 8,313 steps

Friday evening, Apollo and I walked for thirty minutes or so, and saw a pretty nice sunset and the almost full ‘super’ moon. Pedometer: 8,810 steps

Saturday overflowed with activities. I mowed most of the rest of the yard (push mowing for an hour). I cleaned house (more steps vacuuming and toting things up and down three flights of stairs). I ran errands (shopping). Apollo had a play date with a potential adoptee at the dog park (date didn’t go well, but I got more steps in). And I still took him for a walk that evening, for about a half an hour. Pedometer: 11,309 steps

The second week of ‘in training’ for my walking regimen to prepare for the KC Heart Walk seems to be a success. I’ve increased my activity. This week will be a challenge, though, to get enough walking done. We’ll see how well I do and how dedicated I remain to my goal (and to increasing that goal) of seven thousand steps each day. Especially since I didn’t get to walk at all on Sunday thanks to spring thunderstorms. And to show you I wasn’t the only lazy one in the house, here’s a photo of Apollo eating his supper … laying down.

Remembering Roxy: Digestive Black Hole

My last two posts on Remembering Roxy dealt peripherally with her main fascination with anything remotely food-like. Actually, let’s be completely honest, Roxy had an overriding addiction to food and anything closely resembling it. She had a particular obsession with paper products (paper towels and facial tissues, but not toilet paper … thank goodness!) and never passed a trash can she didn’t like (or that she didn’t want to root around in).

Roxy, like most if not all of the Rottweilers we’ve had over the years, lived for meal times. She was incapable of self-feeding herself (I’ve heard that some other breeds of dogs actually know when to stop eating and therefore can have more food put in their dish than they would likely (or should) eat at one meal). Most mornings, I would measure out a cup or a cup and a half of dry dog food and wait for Roxy to settle down (either sitting and laying down). Then I would dump the food in her dish, stand back and give her the signal that she could proceed. By the time I walked over to Apollo’s dish with his cup of food (a matter of a couple of steps), Roxy had finished her breakfast. I ignored her and gave Apollo his breakfast, encouraging him to eat it (unlike Roxy, you have to cheer Apollo on or he won’t eat). I’d then let Roxy out, and watch Apollo watching (and sometimes growling) at Roxy to keep her from snatching away his breakfast (which she would try to do if Apollo got distracted). Never mind that Apollo probably wouldn’t eat it or would take his own sweet time to consume his breakfast, he was not going to let Roxy anywhere near his dish.

I remember one weeknight when the band was over for practice and Terry demonstrated Roxy’s snarfing ability for the disbelieving guys. She convinced them of her food ferocity.

Several times over the years, if Terry or I forgot to close the door securely to the band room (where we kept the fifty pound bag of dog food and the dog dishes), Roxy would wait for Terry to take a nap and sneak downstairs for a snack. We could always tell when she’d succumbed to her stomach, not only because the dog food bag would be tipped over or otherwise disturbed, but also by the evidence of her distended belly. Roxy never learned to resist the bottomless pit that was her stomach, even though she would suffer for most of the day.

During the year before we rescued Apollo, Roxy would clear the kitchen counters for us whenever we left her home alone. She particularly liked my fresh baked bread. Terry got so frustrated with her they got into a scuffle over her behavior. I learned to put the bread (and anything else remotely edible) up in the cabinets with the plates before we left the house. Roxy eventually learned we weren’t going to let her starve and she didn’t need to raid the pantry, the counters or the trash can.

Earlier this year, we put a damper on her feeding frenzies by purchasing a slow-feed dog dish. As you can see from the photo to the right, the center of the dish is raised up, forming an O-shaped trough narrow enough that Roxy could not get her entire snout down into the dish. Any food put into the dish had to be lapped up with her tongue. That doesn’t mean she didn’t try her best to circumvent the dish’s designers. The very first time I fed her in the dish, she picked it up by the rubber seal around the bottom and shook it to dump the dog food out on the floor. Soon after that incident, the rubber seal stayed off the dish so Roxy couldn’t find any way to grab onto it and turn it over.

Both of Roxy’s dishes stand empty in the corner of the band room now. The bag of dog food I bought at the end of February still has plenty left in it. Most days I can only get Apollo to eat one meal, unless I bribe him with a can of ‘beef cuts in gravy’ dog food. You can tell he’s lost some weight, but some of that may be the both of our increased physical activity with my walking regimen. Every morning, I miss not putting the food in her bowl and making her wait, impatiently and with the drool polling on her paws, until I let her have at her food. You could definitely hear the sound of the wind created by the vacuum left in her empty dish a split second later.

Remembering Roxy: Snack Dispensers

Roxy with her purple soccer ball in the backyard (July 2005)

In a not-so-subtle segue from last week’s post, I continue the story of Roxy‘s addiction to paper products (new or used – she wasn’t a discerning Rottweiler). She favored paper towels (usually snatching them from the trash as soon as you turned your back), but excelled at sneaking a tissue from a Kleenex box on an end table if she thought you weren’t looking. For the longest time, we couldn’t figure out why we kept running out of tissues so fast, especially when it wasn’t even cold or allergy season. We learned to keep the tissue boxes and rolls and cans up out of her reach, just like you would for a human toddler (but with more dangerous household items). Otherwise, Roxy considered every tissue box (and trash can) her own personal snack dispenser.

Windy Earth Day Walk

I waited until almost noon before taking Apollo on our weekly extra long Sunday walk. Since I woke up in the middle of the night to watch some of the meteor shower, I slept a couple of hours past when I normally wake up. With a brisk north wind blowing in clouds, I also delayed the walk in the vain hope the temperature would rise. I wiled away the morning recording the first two races of the F1 2012 season to DVD and reading a couple of books. I wrote a couple of short blog posts as well. Once Terry woke up, I left with Apollo, leaning into the stiff northwest wind. I needed to reinforce Apollo’s training, so I placed the pinch collar on him. I could immediately tell the difference. Apollo did not want to pull me along, since he inflicted the pinch on himself when he did.

When we reached Nina Street, I noticed a different type of blooming flower growing along a fence. I took a picture, even though the wind ruffled the blooms continuously:

Apollo and I continued northwest towards the highway and West Mary Street. I planned an hour long walk, meaning I would continue until a half hour had elapsed and then turn around and retrace my steps.

We didn’t wait long for the signal to change and were on our way west after safely traversing the highway. I saw a couple of other walkers on the other side of the street, but so far no other dogs. Apollo didn’t seem very interested in the grass or light posts or fire hydrants, perhaps because he didn’t like tugging on the leash and causing the collar to pinch him.

We walked past the first apartment complex, where the American flag flapped stiffly in the wind (see first photo above). We continued past the second under-construction apartment complex and approached the relatively new Lansing Elementary School. Just as we were passing the school, I heard and saw lower flying jet aircraft just to the north of our position. These planes were flying under the clouds, and circling around in formation. I immediately realized they were military aircraft, probably rehearsing for a flyover of the Kansas Speedway and the NASCAR race to take place this afternoon. I tried repeatedly to snap photos of them with my cell phone as I continued walking towards my chosen turnaround point: Bittersweet Street.

We crossed Mary Street, mostly to give Apollo new sights and smells to investigate. A man and his dog, which seemed to be a smaller younger version of Apollo, continued west on Mary Street, but not without the two dogs trying desperately to meet each other. I finally got Apollo headed east, although he whined about not meeting a new dog friend for a few seconds. I continued my efforts to photograph the jets, finally catching them as we neared the highway.

I learned (later) via friends on Facebook, that these were A10 Warthogs and they did, in fact, flyover the Kansas Speedway.

Apollo and I safely crossed the highway and returned home. We walked for an hour, despite the wind and the Warthogs.

Remembering Roxy: Mutililated Mouse Trap

Training a Rottweiler can challenge your patience. Roxy’s downfall came with keeping her out of the trash can. We bought several different types of cans, none of which kept her from her goal. We mentioned our frustration to our family dog trainer. She suggested we put a mouse trap on top of the trash when we leave the house or go to bed. We eagerly tried this suggestion.

Terry placed the mouse trap gingerly on top of the trash in a nearly full trash can. We left the lid off. I happened to be in the kitchen, probably making some bread. I heard Roxy nudging at the trash, but didn’t look over my shoulder. I didn’t hear the snap of a mouse trap either. A few minutes later, I did hear loud crunching sounds from the great room. I went in to find Roxy gripping the mouse trap between her front paws and chewing it to pieces. I stood there in shock, just shaking my head. I made Roxy stop masticating the poor mouse trap and hollered for Terry to come up from the band room. He busted out laughing the minute he realized what she had done. He gathered up the remaining pieces of the mutilated mouse trap and placed them in a quart-sized Ziplock bag.

The next time we saw our dog trainer (at church the following Sunday), we delivered the pieces of the mouse trap to her and asked for a different idea for keeping Roxy out of the trash. She and her husband had a good laugh, even mentioning that perhaps the abused trap should be framed as she’d never before had a Rottweiler bypass this preventative measure.

Click here for more Roxy memories.

Second Saturday Storms

Every news channel, federal state, county and municipal government agency hammered home dire predictions for extremely severe thunderstorms (with large hail and multiple straight-line tornadoes) for this weekend. Any plans I might have had for the weekend quickly hinged upon the Weather Channel’s coverage of said storms and any weather map I could lay my eyes on (whether it be on TWC or via my Nook Color or my cell phone or my laptop). I didn’t even change clothes when I got home from work on Friday before I finished mowing most of the back yard and the side yard.

Saturday morning, I woke up early (nothing new there) and gauged the likelihood of storms to be slight for the next hour or so. I decided to take Apollo on a Saturday morning walk, instead of waiting for our normal Sunday morning window. We left the house under grey skies and damp yards and pavement. I didn’t plan to venture far away from home, in case of a sudden change in the weather. We walked by some flowering trees and shrubs, which I tried to capture with my cell phone’s camera:

As you can tell from the first photo above, Apollo doesn’t miss an opportunity to stop and smell flowers or grass or shrubs or trees … anything really. It can sometimes be frustrating, especially if I’m trying to actually get a workout. This Saturday morning, though, I preferred to stroll along at a leisurely pace and let Apollo sniff to his heart’s content.

He waited patiently for the light to change before we crossed K-7/US-73 and proceeded west on Mary Street for a block or so. I turned north on a ‘new’ street (which I don’t know the name of) walking towards West Kay Street. Another walker with two large dogs (I think they were a Newfoundland and a Border Collie) crossed Mary Street and followed us. Apollo lost all interest in heading north. He wanted to make friends with the two dogs behind us. I didn’t feel like wrestling with him and he wasn’t wearing the pinch collar that I could have used to ensure his obedient and gentlemanly behavior. So I turned back east on the deteriorating section of West Kay Street abandoned when the new street was constructed. I walked halfway up the hill back towards the highway, then turned around to make sure the other walker and his dogs continued on east.

Before walking back down the hill, I took a photo of West Kay Street, including the house we rented back in 1996-7 before we found and bought the house we now live in. Back then, West Kay Street sported a large wooded hill (now flattened and grass covered in the left side of the photo to the right) and several houses, all of which have been demolished or moved, save for the ones on the north side of the street.

Apollo and I retraced our steps and returned home before eight o’clock. A few hours later, Terry woke up and he showed me some of the dogs he’s been looking at to adopt or rescue. One of the first ones he showed me was a female Boxer named Butterscotch who just happened to be living in a foster home up on Post (aka Ft. Leavenworth). Terry called the foster home and arranged to meet Butterscotch mid-afternoon. I cleaned out the car, not knowing the current requirements for gaining access to Ft. Leavenworth. I can’t remember the last time I went up on Post (years most likely). We stopped at the Leavenworth Animal Shelter on the way north, which should have been open (the sign clearly stated they were open on the Second Saturday of every month until 4:00 pm) but the doors were securely locked. Terry and I got back in the car and continued north to the Ft. Leavenworth main security checkpoint gate.

We handed our driver’s licenses to the guard and he asked where we were going on Post. We didn’t know so we had to call the foster family again and get an address. Once he wrote the address down on his clipboard, he handed back our IDs and waved us through. That didn’t take long at all. I thought I’d have to get out of the car and open all the doors and hoods and wait for them to inspect it inside, outside and underneath.

We stayed on the phone with the foster family for directions to their home. We arrived and met Butterscotch (shown at right). She took to me immediately (why do I attract any and all canines?). She was excited to see us and seemed to have a very sweet disposition. She was a bit skittish towards Terry and submissive to both of us. She is small (well, smaller than a Rottweiler), weighing about fifty pounds. She recently had puppies, but had also been spayed within the last week. She had all of her shots and she was already microchipped. Terry and I got down on the floor and got to know her better for a few minutes. I really liked her. I also felt confident that I would be able to pick her up, should she ever be unable to walk on her own.

We told the foster family we would sleep on a decision to adopt her. I am torn. I think she would make a wonderful addition to our family, but I worry that Apollo will bully her. I really wish there were some way for him to meet her. I wonder if we could foster her for a few days as a test? We’ve never had such a ‘small’ dog … not since Nugget back in the 80s, who was Terry’s mother’s small dog. By the time I met Nugget, she was nearly blind and mostly deaf.

I think Terry still has his heart set on a female Rottweiler. He just can’t seem to find one in the Kansas City metro area. I’m not sure I want another extra large dog. I am torn. Perhaps another night of sleep will help me make up my mind.

Oh, and about those storms. We experienced nothing but wind and barely any rain. I never her any thunder or saw any lightning. Now, mid-afternoon on Sunday, the sun is shining and the wind is blowing. A beautiful spring day to wrap up an otherwise gloomy weekend.

Remembering Roxy: Ditz-Weiler

I called Roxy a Ditz-Weiler almost from the moment I met her. Our previous Rottweiler had been a typical grouchy, large and aggressive male. More than ten years had elapsed since then and I worried about dealing with a temperamental canine and equally excitable adolescents. I shouldn’t have worried.

Roxy took to all of us as quickly as we took to her. She didn’t know what to think of our cuddles and hugging in the beginning, but eventually she craved the affection almost as much as she craved food. She learned quickly, especially if a treat appeared as a reward for a job well done. Roxy even learned how to speak on command (not easily taught to Rottweilers) and how to track (search and find or follow a path laid down by Rachelle in a field).

Roxy met me at the door each evening, usually with her toy clenched eagerly in her mouth, wiggling her nubbin of a cropped tail so much her back legs would dance and skitter around.

For Terry, Roxy preferred to jump up in his lap while he relaxed in his recliner, sometimes with a warning and sometimes not. Roxy never understood that ninety-five pounds does not a lap dog make.

I asked my husband and kids to suggest some of their fond memories of Ditzy Roxy and I’ll share them here:

There was the time Roxy got locked in the basement storage room. A dog that clearly knows how to bark, but yet she was quiet as a mouse the entire time we searched for her, inside and outside the house. For a couple of hours we roamed the neighborhood and drafted friends to drive and walk the streets. Rachelle finally found her in the basement about the time we’d given up hope.

One year we had several giant fifteen gallon plastic planter pots in the back yard, leftover from growing tomatoes. Roxy would play with the pots (this was before we rescued Apollo). She would throw them all over the yard, chase them, pick them up and shake them. Sometimes the pots would end up over her head and she would just keep running around the back yard, growling and shaking her head, until the pot fell off and she would start all over again.

The real icing on the cake (or rather the mud in this case) occurred in May of 2007. We received quite a bit of rain, which resulted in our sump pump running frequently. The pump is located in the basement, in the same storage room where Roxy had gotten lost in. The pipe exits the foundation in the northwest corner, still within the fenced in back yard. Whenever the pump would kick on, if Roxy happened to be outside, she would run to the pipe, and start barking at it. On the day we took the photo below, she had not only barked at the pipe, but dug down around it and even managed to disconnect the pipe in the ground from the pipe in the foundation. The result of her misadventure is clearly visible below.

So why did I nickname her a Ditz-Weiler? Simply because she really should have been a blonde. Roxy trusted us implicitly and enthusiastically. Being a family of practical jokers, we could not always resist the temptation to pull one over on our gullible Rottie (see my previous post on Derek taunting Roxy). And she rarely pouted, forgiving us instantly, showering us with her affection (and sometimes her slobber) unstintingly.

Click here for a page of memories and photos dedicated to Roxy.

Apollo and Venus

Soon after I returned home from work Tuesday evening, Terry suggested that we take Apollo to the dog park. I briefly thought of just taking Apollo for a walk around the neighborhood, but my legs kept shaking from the first workout I’d done in nearly a week. I capitulated and led Apollo out to the car on the long leather leash. We arrived at the dog park a bit after seven o’clock. We only saw four other dogs in the ‘large dogs’ side of the park. As I took Apollo off his leash, he loped over to two dogs, one of which was leashed, to make some new friends. Those two were on the way home, so that left only two other dogs to meet and greet.

We wondered around the back half of the park, strolling leisurely through the trees and watching the sun slowly sink in the west. As we continued on towards the southwest corner of the park, I remembered an article I read recently that stated I should be able to see Venus during daylight hours this week. I placed my right hand between my eyes and the sun and looked up away and to the left. For the first few minutes, I could not see Venus. But I kept trying and eventually, I found it, shining brightly more than thirty or forty degrees away from the sun, with the sun still about five degrees above the western horizon. You can estimate degrees while observing astronomical objects by using the width of your fist from top to bottom held at arm’s length, which equals about 10 degrees.

I tried to take a photo of Venus and the setting sun with my cell phone camera, but upon review, I can’t find Venus in the shot I took. I’m not entirely convinced I succeeded in getting both the planet and our sun in the same field of view. My reading glasses were in my purse in the car, so I took a leap of faith and prayed I succeeded when I clicked the shutter (or whatever virtual equivalent my cell phone camera sports). Here’s the photo, but I can’t find Venus in it:

Look for Venus later — Venus should have been in the upper left hand corner of this photo.

I tried to direct Terry to spotting Venus, but his prescription sunglasses were too dark and too out-of-date to be of much help. I sent a Tweet from my phone as soon as I found Venus and spent the next few minutes enjoying the view.

We wondered back east along the fence and met up with the other two dogs. A squirrel taunted them from a few feet away on the other side of the fence. One of the dogs, some sort of hunting breed, kept barking at the squirrel, who ignored all the dogs.

The sun began setting and we herded Apollo towards the gate. The dog park is only open from sunrise to sunset so our brief play time rapidly came to an end. We made sure Apollo got a good drink of water before loading him back into the car and returning home.

Remembering Roxy: Dog Toy Extreme Destruction

Until we found the Tuffie Toys web site, the typical life expectancy of any dog toy we purchased at a regular retailer amounted to perhaps ten minutes. Roxy had a particular fascination for brown hedgehogs. She usually managed to rip open the stuffing and find the squeaker within a few minutes of receiving the new toy from us. The duck shown in the photo at right did not last much longer than the ravaged hedgehogs.

Since we were dog toys about as often as we bought dog treats (like rawhide chews, dog biscuits, Beggin’ Strips, etc.), Terry and I thought we should approach this problem from a different angle. Eventually, we found the Mega Ring via some Googling and we bought one to try.

But first, let me give you some information on the Mega Series from Tuffie Toys so you can understand why we thought these dog toys would be the best fit for Roxy:

The Mega series toys are by far our toughest and most durable dog toys. These interactive dog toys are tough high quality pet toys that are lots of fun and will provide hours of play for you & your pet.

MEGA CONSTRUCTION: Seven Rows of Stitching. Each toy’s seven layers of material are sewn together with two rows of linear stitching and two rows of cross stitching. The four rows of stitching are protected with an industrial grade luggage material that is sewn 3 more times. Seven Layers of Material. Three layers of 600 Denier industrial grade material, three layers of plastic coating and finally one layer of soft fleece. All seven layers are rolled together and then sewn with a one inch cross pattern to prevent layer separation. Protective Webbing. Additional industrial grade luggage material is sewn around the outside edge with three rows of stitching to cover and protect the first four rows of stitching. Squeaker Safety Pockets. Each Squeaker is safe and quiet because they are sewn into a nylon safety pocket beneath seven layers of material.

When Terry and I found this site, the home page displayed a tiger playing with one of the Mega Rings. Tuffie Toys proudly proclaimed their dog toys were tiger tested. Currently, they display the Mega Rings gripped firmly in a Rottweiler’s jaws. And I can confirm, these dog toys are nearly indestructible. We still have the last two we bought, and they are at least three or four years old. The only thing that has given out (eventually in all of the ones we bought) was the squeaker.

Apollo would tease Roxy to no end. He would pick up one of the rings, sneak around behind her through the kitchen, and taunt her with it until she tore off after him. They would play tug-of-war in the middle of the great room, loud enough that if Terry and I were watching television, we would mute and pause the show we were watching until they wore themselves out. Apollo could only get the ring out of Roxy’s deathgrip if he cheated. He would bit her ankles, hocks, neck, ears, anything he could to get her to release her jaws just long enough to snatch it up and run off with it. Roxy would then chase after Apollo, latch on to the ring again and give her shoulders a shake, easily twisting it from Apollo’s weaker jaws. If Apollo really tried to pull it from her grip, Roxy would drop down on all fours and become so much dead determined stubborn Rottweiler weight and there was nothing Apollo could do at that point. So he would let go and walk off (to a neutral corner). Roxy would spend the next few minutes, cleaning her toy.

At other times, Apollo would simply lay on the ring, hiding it from Roxy. The first few times he did this, we couldn’t figure out what had gotten into Roxy. She would start circling Apollo, who lay innocently with his head cradled on his front paws. Roxy would get more and more agitated, first whining then barking at Apollo. Terry and I laughed when we figured out what Apollo was doing, but scolded him for being so sneaky.

Click here for a page of memories and photos dedicated to Roxy.

A Fool Walks a Dog

That fool would be me and the dog would be Apollo (shown at left). My back did not need to be walked (or pulled by a 90+ pound Rottweiler), but Apollo desperately needed the exercise. I woke up stiff and still sore, but not as bad as yesterday, during which I spent most of the afternoon and evening either in a recliner or in bed. I am eternally grateful to Terry for multiple applications of Icy Hot to the affected lower back area, which seems to have helped relieve the pain a bit. Once I’d had a few minutes (well, let’s be honest, more like two hours) to wake up, stretch and compose two blog posts, I had just settled down to continue reading an ebook on my Nook Color, when Apollo looked at me expectantly. I sighed, slipped on my jeans, tied on my walking shoes, slipped on my sunglasses, grabbed my cell phone and his leash and we headed out the door.

I decided to make this walk very short (especially compared to last Sunday’s hour and a quarter walk). I thought a tour of the local flora, especially the lilac bushes, would be perfect for a pleasant Sunday morning stroll. We walked in a slow loop from Olive, north along First Street, east along Nina Street, back south along Second Street, back west on Olive to First Terrace. Along the way we saw more lilace bushes, lots of tulips in a rainbow of different colors, some phlox and several flowering trees, including red buds and apple trees.

Apollo only caused my back grief once. As we approached First Street Terrace eastbound on Nina Street, a guy was walking a Spitz or Husky, slightly smaller in size than Apollo. Naturally, Apollo wanted to meet this new canine friend, but my back just couldn’t deal with the added stress of restraining all of Apollo’s determined energy. I forced him to sit and held his collar with my right hand while keeping a firm grip on the shortened leash in my left. He whined for a couple of minutes, as did the other dog, while they continued moving westbound on Nina. Apollo behaved better than he did last Sunday, but still needs some work on his obedience training.

We made it back home in about a half an hour. Apollo got his exercise. I got to see some spring flowers. For the rest of the day, this April fool is doing nothing but reading.

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