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.
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.
Apollo says Hi!
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.
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.
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.
Butterscotch
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.
Terry and I left Lansing mid-morning on Thursday, April 5th, heading south via the Kansas Turnpike to spend the next four days with our 20-something kids in North Texas. Since I’m the early riser, I took Apollo to the kennel before the sun broke the horizon. Once back home, I finished packing the car, including a set of old metal (and heavy) car ramps and most of Rachelle’s 2-D art from her high school days (now a half-decade in the past). I took out the protective cover we place on the backseat to protect the leather from Apollo and wiped the seats down with leather cleaner and moisturizer.
Once Terry woke up and got dressed, we hit the road, entering the Turnpike at ten before ten o’clock. Since the speed limit rose to 75 mph, I prefer to pay the extra $10.75 to cross quickly across Kansas, instead of zig-zagging and slowing down for every little town on other routes (like US-69 or US-75). We reached the southern terminus of the Turnpike before one o’clock and stopped in Guthrie to top off the tank.
GT40 in OKC
As we were passing through Oklahoma City, we followed a very low profile sports car (see photo at right) which we finally determined was a Ford, a GT 40. Very, very nice vehicle. Just wish I could have gotten a better photograph of it. Hard to accomplish while also driving.
Before leaving work on Wednesday, I had popped down to the lobby and checked out a couple of audiobooks from the Plaza Branch of the Kansas City Public Library. The selection available for science fiction and fantasy amounted to less than a dozen titles, some of which were duplicates. I sighed. I selected a couple of Terry Brooks novels set in the Shannara world, knowing that Terry had read Brooks and liked him. I have read (not listened to) nearly all of Brooks’ Shannara novels, so I am very familiar with the setting. I inserted the first disc of Armageddon’s Children into the Bonneville’s seldom used CD player. The novel, which reveals the post-apocalyptic origins to the famous Sword of Shannara, made for grim, but gripping, listening and made the miles fly by as we continued south across Oklahoma.
Rachelle's Apartment Complex
We crossed into Texas just shy of five o’clock and stopped at our favorite Texas tourist information spot for a brief biobreak. I sent Rachelle a text to let her know we were close (within forty miles). As we passed Sangar, traffic slowed to a crawl (usual for Denton at this time of day thanks to the splitting of I-35, which also narrows and becomes increasingly congested until you get past Lewisville). Worried that an accident was disrupting traffic, I called Rachelle and asked if I should take the first Denton exit. She and Nic conferred and confirmed we should exit at 380 and then asked for directions from that exit to their apartment. I found Hickory Street easily enough, but drove right by their apartment and had to turn around when I reached North North Texas (yes, that’s a street name plus a direction). Even with the traffic delays, we made it to their apartment in record time, arriving just past 5:30 p.m. We unpacked and then graced a local sandwich shop with our presence for a quick supper.
We returned to Rachelle’s apartment and I setup our portable airbed, while Nic and Terry found something to stream via Netflix. I didn’t stay up too late, being exhausted from the long drive. I crashed while the rest of the gang watched the Mystery Science Theater 3000 movie, which lampooned the 1955 movie This Island Earth. I don’t think I missed much. Sometimes I’m glad I was born in the 60s.
I woke up early on Friday, thanks to my cell phone’s alarm. I quietly left Terry to his dreams and took my Nook with me to the living room, where I read for a bit while waiting for Rachelle to wake up. I wanted to spend the morning addressing her graduation announcements. Once she woke up, I retrieved my laptop and got connected to her wifi so I could look up addresses. She and I sat at the kitchen table for the next couple of hours. I didn’t quite have enough stamps for all the envelopes though. Once Terry woke up, we went to the grocery store to pick up a few items and to buy stamps. We mailed the announcements after leaving the store.
The rest of the day, Rachelle worked on her thesis paper. Terry napped or watched Netflix and I read. I also attempted a new bread recipe I received in a promotional e-mail from King Arthur Flour. The Italian Easter Cheese bread stuck fast in the pan, despite generous oiling of the pan. We eventually got the bread out of the pan and wrapped it up to keep it fresh for Easter Sunday dinner.
Rachelle and I left for Good Friday worship in the early evening. We had a long drive to cross over from Denton to the east side of Plano. I opted to sit in the very back of the sanctuary, something I rarely do at worship, but because I decided to wear street clothes (jeans and walking shoes), I felt less conspicuous in the back. I listened as the orchestra ran through several of their musical offerings, including a beautiful and poignant arrangement of ‘Were You There?’ The Good Friday service included only two hymns sung by the congregation and many of the Lenten selections by the choir from the past few weeks of Lent. The worship service focused on the first nine stations of the cross, extinguishing a candle on the altar after each station, leaving all of the candles dark as the Good Friday service ended.
Good Friday Sunset
While waiting for Rachelle to derobe, I wandered the parking lot and snapped a photo of the quickly fading sunset (see photo to the left). Rachelle and I returned to Denton. For some reason I can’t recall what we did for dinner Friday night. I will have to ask Terry or call Rachelle and ask them to remind me. Once I know, I’ll update this paragraph with the appropriate culinary information.
Rachelle actually woke up before seven o’clock on Saturday and walked with me around her Denton neighborhood. The only photo I took while we were walking was of a yard filled with the Texas state flower, which I forgot to send to Flickr from my phone and subsequently deleted. Grrr.
Upon returning to the apartment, we whipped up a batch of real buttermilk pancakes. Then we took the car to a local farmer’s market so Rachelle could choose her weekly produce from a community-sponsored agriculture (CSA) she recently joined.
Once Terry woke up, we decided drive to Derek and Royna’s apartment for a visit. We learned during the visit that Derek’s truck had developed some alarming drive-train issues. Terry rode with Derek around the Colony and suggested that the truck be taken to a transmission shop for diagnosis. Nearly a week later, the shop still has the truck, but more on that in a separate post. We also decided that Easter dinner after worship would be simple fare of a Tex-Mex flavor. On the way back to Denton, we stopped and bought the fixings to make enchiladas and deviled eggs. After Nic got home from work, he and Rachelle worked like a well-oiled team to create the enchilada filling. Rachelle had less success with boiling eggs, rapidly going through nearly two dozen before Nic stepped in, with a new dozen he retrieved from a second trip to the grocery store.
Since Rachelle had to sing in all three Easter worship services, we had to leave Denton at exactly seven o’clock Sunday morning to drop her off at the First UMC in Plano by 7:45 a.m. As soon as we dropped off Rachelle, we back-tracked to Derek and Royna’s apartment to relax until the last worship service scheduled for eleven o’clock. We stowed the enchilada ingredients in the fridge and settled down to visit with everyone.
I twisted Derek’s arm, insisting that everyone, including him, must attend Easter worship. He grunched and groaned but eventually got ready. As we were about to leave to return to church I realized I had a problem. Since Derek’s truck was undriveable, my vehicle, the Bonneville, was our only transportation to and from church. It only seats five adults. Not a problem getting to church, but returning with one more (Rachelle) meant we had six total adults. I suggested drawing straws, but of course Derek just grinned impishly. Nic actually volunteered but I reluctantly left Derek behind.
Where's Waldo er I mean Rachelle? (click photo for larger view)
We returned to the church just before 10:30 a.m. and find a scarce parking spot. The second service had not ended so we took advantage of coffee and donuts while we waited. Once the sanctuary emptied, I led everyone to the middle section, about five rows back from the altar. By eleven o’clock, there wasn’t an empty seat to be found in the spacious (almost cavernous) sanctuary.
When Rachelle joined the Chancel Choir at First UMC Plano, I immediately went to their website to learn a bit about their ministry and their pastor. Imagine my surprise when I learned that their senior pastor, Gary Mueller, grew up in Kansas and graduated from KU. What are the odds? He even managed to insert KU basketball into his sermon, spending at least ten minutes reminiscing about past national championship games (including the most recent one less than a week old). At one point he even started chanting ‘Rock Chalk …’ and waited for the audience to respond with ‘Jayhawk’ … but a thousand plus Texans just fidgeted in their seats. I almost shouted ‘Jayhawk’ in support of a fellow Kansan, but couldn’t get over my Wildcat leanings. Eventually, he delivered an Easter message somehow managing to connect all the dots in the end.
Worship wrapped up with an ambitious and joyous rendition of Handel’s Hallelujah chorus, including an orchestra, the choir and audience participation from the congregation. By far, the loudest experience I’ve ever participated in at a church.
We gathered up Rachelle and returned to the Colony. Before everyone could change clothes, I insisted we gather in the hallway for some posed group family photos. I had neglected to do a similar session at Thanksgiving, and didn’t want to miss the opportunity again.
Slightly Silly Family Group Photo (click photo to see rest of album) Left to right: Jon, Terry, Rachelle, Nic, Derek & Royna
After the photo shoot, we returned to the apartment to relax and bake enchiladas. Rachelle set out the deviled eggs, which lasted about five minutes. We ate lunch and visited for a few minutes while our stomachs digested the delicious repast.
Seventy Eggs and One Ham (click photo to view all the egg hunting candids).
As a thunderstorm rolled through the area, Rachelle grabbed the bag of plastic Easter eggs we’d bought and stuffed with goodies. Since the rain prevented us from hiding eggs in a more traditional setting, the kids split the eggs up between the guys and the gals. Rachelle and Royna languished in the bedroom while Nic and Derek started hiding thirty-five eggs around the rest of the apartment. The eggs could go anywhere except in something (like the trash or the tank of a toilet). Once the eggs were hidden, the gals were released to search for them. Rachelle found a few more than Royna, but not many. Next, the guys were sent to the bedroom while Rachelle and Royna hid the rest of the eggs. Once the guys were released to hunt, it quickly became clear who was driven to win the egg hunting championship. Derek took the lead and never let up.
After the egg hunt, we sat around the table, watching the kids tally up their candy and coins. Eventually, several of us took naps. By five o’clock, we decided it was time to return to Denton. We hugged and said goodbye to Derek and Royna. While we will see Derek again in mid-May when Rachelle graduates from UNT, Royna is returning to Nepal to visit her parents until early July.
Monday morning Terry and I woke up early, packing the Bonneville by seven o’clock and saying goodbye to Rachelle. We headed north on I-35 at 7:30 a.m. We made very few stops, opting to get breakfast via drive-through in Ardmore, Oklahoma and catching a quick ten minute lunch at a McDonalds on the Kansas Turnpike. We pulled into our driveway at 4:30 p.m. Monday afternoon. The first thing I noticed was how tall the grass in the side yard had grown.
We unpacked the Bonneville and I pulled out the mower. I spent thirty or forty minutes taming the yard and then relaxed until shortly after five, when Terry and I left the house to retrieve Apollo from the kennel. We had to wait a few minutes while they finished blow drying him after his bath and trimming his nails. He was still a bit damp, but still very excited to see us. I noticed immediately he’d put on weight. Having other dogs near him must have spurred on his competitive juices and inspired him to actually eat his food. Terry and I returned home and ordered a carryout dinner from our local Pizza Hut. Neither of us felt like making yet another trip to the grocery store. Pasta, wings and cinnamon sticks hit the spot perfectly.
Terry and I had a great time with our kids over Easter weekend. Lucky for us, we get to repeat this entire process in just three weeks, when we return to Denton to attend Rachelle’s graduation from the University of North Texas.
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.
Muddy Roxy (May 2007)
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.
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.
A Waggin Tails Dog Park Sunset
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:
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.
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.
Strange optical illusion shortly after the sun rose today. The sun appeared to float before the clouds on the eastern horizon (see photo above). This next photo has slightly better colors:
This will be my last post until after Easter (except for the already scheduled ‘Remembering Roxy’ post which will magically appear early Friday morning).
I will leave you with a prayer for today, Wednesday of Holy Week (Year B):
Creator of the universe,
you made the world in beauty,
and restore all things in glory
through the victory of Jesus Christ.
We pray that, wherever your image is still disfigured
by poverty, sickness, selfishness, war, and greed,
the new creation in Jesus Christ may appear
in justice, love, and peace,
to the glory of your name.
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.
Lilacs
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.
Click photo for entire album
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.
