I don’t know what your politics are, but Al Gore be damned. It was 70 degrees here in Minnesota, October 30th. And dummy me put the convertible away for the winter.
Today was the day the pups got to walk in the leaves and green grass. We took them out two at a time. It’s getting tough to keep track of them unless they are in a confined area. It reminds me of “Festival Seating” at concerts years ago. Open the gates, and a ton of adolescent kids with a belly full of Boones Farm rush for the best seat. This was a GREAT idea.
A few of the pups were a bit apprehensive about being outside. They didn’t quite know what to make of the grass, the yard, or the leaves. And a couple, like Sherman, and Clark thought this was the greatest thing in the world. Within minutes, they were off exploring. This gave me an excuse not to rake this year. After all. The pups need some leaves to romp in.
Feeding continues to be a riot. “Bowl Diving” is the order of the day. Clark is a little on the small side, so we are making sure he gets his share and half of Spencers, who now resembles a spotted sumo wrestler. (Try not to hard visualize that.)
We have kids coming to the door by the bus load, so I gotta scram.
C YA
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Quickie,,,,,,,,
This will be brief. School tonight! The pups are all doing well. We took them outside this afternoon for the first time. More on that tomorrow. Also, I hope you all recovered from that rambling diatribe of last night.
If you have been following this blog from day one, you might be interested in knowing I have all the entries from the first day. Sue thought it might be a neat thing to compile all of them and put them into some kind of hard copy. I have to admit, I am intrigued by the idea.
I am exhausted. Boji is still BARKING several times a night. GRRRRRR.
So for now.
CYA
If you have been following this blog from day one, you might be interested in knowing I have all the entries from the first day. Sue thought it might be a neat thing to compile all of them and put them into some kind of hard copy. I have to admit, I am intrigued by the idea.
I am exhausted. Boji is still BARKING several times a night. GRRRRRR.
So for now.
CYA
Monday, October 29, 2007
The Back Story
The back-story. A conversation I had with Sue yesterday made me think of a good topic for this blog. Or, it might bore you to death and make you gag. Either way, here we go.
As far back as I can remember, I have wanted a Dalmatian. When I was a kid there was no possible way we were having one. “Too big” and “They shed” was the response from my parents. So, they purchased a toy poodle, painted his nails, and decorated him with bows. Cute you say? Not even close. It was a male. This event scarred me for life. Small wonder I didn’t end up a cross-dresser.(Poodle people, no offense)We actually had two of them, and in all fairness, I really loved my dogs, despite the fact they were drag queens.
Skip ahead to when I purchased my first home. I would have visitors, and friends come over and comment the place was decorated in “Early Dalmatian.” Knick Knacks, plates, a few photos, you know. The kind of things that over- run your home if your not careful. “Where’s the dog?” was the usual question. “Don’t have one.” Was the response. I think back to this time, and with all the dumb decisions I made at this time in my life, this was quite possibly the only SMART one I made, NOT getting the Dal. (Actually, when I think back to this time in my life, it’s a miracle I am here to write this blog.) I was simply not home enough, and not ready for the commitment of a dog.
Skip ahead a few more years and here I was, married. (We will put this one in the bad decision column) I was old enough and settled down enough to get the dog of my choice. Somehow, I knew enough to go to a dog show and talk to a breeder. I usually went to the show in downtown St. Paul, simply because I loved dogs. But this time I went with a purpose. Someone pointed me in the direction of Sue, who told me about the process of getting one of her dogs, the interview, and the litter that she had planned, and so on.
So I got my dog, and all was good. (Well, not ALL. The marriage was a train wreck) I was contacted by Sue when my dog was approximately six months old. The Holly Dazzle parade was looking for 101 Dalmatians as an entry for one night of the parade. This thing goes on for about two weeks, every night around Christmas. Naturally, I went. And naturally, my dog barfed in the front seat of my brand new, new car smell Silverado. Great. This was going to be a riot. I have dog barf on my lap, my wife is yapping about something in my ear, I am going down a one way street the wrong way in downtown Minneapolis, and it’s about Eighty below zero outside.
Anyway, my wife was busy snapping pictures the entire time I was walking in the parade. When I look back at these photos, who might be in them? Sue, Tim and Sandy Kopet, and Dawn. (Among others) If someone would have told me this night that some of these people would be among my closest friends 11 years from now, I would have accused them of being drunk.
When my marriage went south, my wife and I split the house. She got the inside, and I got the outside. I also got the dog that I had waited years for. What was I going to do with nowhere to live, and a dog in tow? I contacted the breeder, Sue. I explained my situation, and she found someone to board my dog until I got where I was going.
Enter Tim and Sandy Kopet. They have a littermate to my dog, CH. Paisleys Masked Marauder Am/Can. CDX. (L) “Killain” They agreed to board my boy Zeus. I moved back in with my parents, (An adult male in his thirties living with his parents is real impressive on the dating scene) and would visit my boy a couple times a week, and usually leave there in tears. Boy. This was NOT in the playbook.
Once I settled into the home I am in now, my dog was returned to me, in great shape, and I was ready to get on with things. I don’t know if I ever have ever told the Kopets about how grateful I am to them for what they did for me. They never asked for a single thing in return for this act of kindness.
All I can say is THANK YOU. If I can ever return the favor, in any way, I will.
Once I got settled in this house, my Zeus was in desperate need of some obedience training. So I enrolled him at the Animal Inn. (Where I now work one night a week) We went through the beginner obedience class with Dave Slattum instructing. He wondered if I might be interested in joining the local Dalmatian club. (I am now the treasurer) It sounded like a good idea. There were a lot of people there with a LOT more knowledge than I had about Dals.
So one day, I am need of some dog food and I stroll into my local pet store, and there is this woman working there with a liver Dal, flopped down on the floor, eating a bone bigger than my leg. “That’s Madison” she said. So, being the social, charming, individual I am, I told her I had a Dal also, and was attending the Animal Inn for obedience. She not only knew of the place, she went there herself. “My name is Dawn”
“My name is Dawn” The rest as they say, is history.
So now you have the back story of how I ended up with 13 dogs in my house. I warned you, it was gonna make you wretch…….
C YA
As far back as I can remember, I have wanted a Dalmatian. When I was a kid there was no possible way we were having one. “Too big” and “They shed” was the response from my parents. So, they purchased a toy poodle, painted his nails, and decorated him with bows. Cute you say? Not even close. It was a male. This event scarred me for life. Small wonder I didn’t end up a cross-dresser.(Poodle people, no offense)We actually had two of them, and in all fairness, I really loved my dogs, despite the fact they were drag queens.
Skip ahead to when I purchased my first home. I would have visitors, and friends come over and comment the place was decorated in “Early Dalmatian.” Knick Knacks, plates, a few photos, you know. The kind of things that over- run your home if your not careful. “Where’s the dog?” was the usual question. “Don’t have one.” Was the response. I think back to this time, and with all the dumb decisions I made at this time in my life, this was quite possibly the only SMART one I made, NOT getting the Dal. (Actually, when I think back to this time in my life, it’s a miracle I am here to write this blog.) I was simply not home enough, and not ready for the commitment of a dog.
Skip ahead a few more years and here I was, married. (We will put this one in the bad decision column) I was old enough and settled down enough to get the dog of my choice. Somehow, I knew enough to go to a dog show and talk to a breeder. I usually went to the show in downtown St. Paul, simply because I loved dogs. But this time I went with a purpose. Someone pointed me in the direction of Sue, who told me about the process of getting one of her dogs, the interview, and the litter that she had planned, and so on.
So I got my dog, and all was good. (Well, not ALL. The marriage was a train wreck) I was contacted by Sue when my dog was approximately six months old. The Holly Dazzle parade was looking for 101 Dalmatians as an entry for one night of the parade. This thing goes on for about two weeks, every night around Christmas. Naturally, I went. And naturally, my dog barfed in the front seat of my brand new, new car smell Silverado. Great. This was going to be a riot. I have dog barf on my lap, my wife is yapping about something in my ear, I am going down a one way street the wrong way in downtown Minneapolis, and it’s about Eighty below zero outside.
Anyway, my wife was busy snapping pictures the entire time I was walking in the parade. When I look back at these photos, who might be in them? Sue, Tim and Sandy Kopet, and Dawn. (Among others) If someone would have told me this night that some of these people would be among my closest friends 11 years from now, I would have accused them of being drunk.
When my marriage went south, my wife and I split the house. She got the inside, and I got the outside. I also got the dog that I had waited years for. What was I going to do with nowhere to live, and a dog in tow? I contacted the breeder, Sue. I explained my situation, and she found someone to board my dog until I got where I was going.
Enter Tim and Sandy Kopet. They have a littermate to my dog, CH. Paisleys Masked Marauder Am/Can. CDX. (L) “Killain” They agreed to board my boy Zeus. I moved back in with my parents, (An adult male in his thirties living with his parents is real impressive on the dating scene) and would visit my boy a couple times a week, and usually leave there in tears. Boy. This was NOT in the playbook.
Once I settled into the home I am in now, my dog was returned to me, in great shape, and I was ready to get on with things. I don’t know if I ever have ever told the Kopets about how grateful I am to them for what they did for me. They never asked for a single thing in return for this act of kindness.
All I can say is THANK YOU. If I can ever return the favor, in any way, I will.
Once I got settled in this house, my Zeus was in desperate need of some obedience training. So I enrolled him at the Animal Inn. (Where I now work one night a week) We went through the beginner obedience class with Dave Slattum instructing. He wondered if I might be interested in joining the local Dalmatian club. (I am now the treasurer) It sounded like a good idea. There were a lot of people there with a LOT more knowledge than I had about Dals.
So one day, I am need of some dog food and I stroll into my local pet store, and there is this woman working there with a liver Dal, flopped down on the floor, eating a bone bigger than my leg. “That’s Madison” she said. So, being the social, charming, individual I am, I told her I had a Dal also, and was attending the Animal Inn for obedience. She not only knew of the place, she went there herself. “My name is Dawn”
“My name is Dawn” The rest as they say, is history.
So now you have the back story of how I ended up with 13 dogs in my house. I warned you, it was gonna make you wretch…….
C YA
Sunday, October 28, 2007
The fast food approach.
Boji has taken a new approach to feeding the pups in the last few days. She stands up. She walks in the X pen, and puts this look on her face like a bored teenager. It’s like a drive up window at the fast food joint, but there is only one thing on the menu, milk, and zero chance of getting the damn order wrong. In, out. Wham, bam.
Following a meal, the pups usually lie down and sleep. Not unlike myself at thanksgiving dinner. What’s next on the agenda for these guys, a Dallas Cowboys game? Maybe catch a few AKC commercials and a growl at Caesar Milan.
When they wake up from the nap, within five minutes, the place smells like a locker room. Overwhelming. How a four pound dog is able to generate this much stink should be a research topic at some university.
Paper patrol continues, as does the saucer feeding. Certainly one of the highlights of raising a litter. When Dawn rings the dinner bell, “Puppy puppy puppy” they come running in like an Olympic athlete, jumping hurdles, running over the top of one another, and plunging into the saucer. Someone is going to pull a hamstring.
Laundry also continues at an alarming pace. I have gotten lacsidaisical about sorting however. I now have pink socks, and underwear. Most of the pups don’t mind, but Her Serene Highness The Princess of Monaco demands clean WHITE bath towels. Can you imagine if we had an Elizabeth Taylor in the litter? Eek!
I am including a collage of head shots taken today. Digital photography is the only way to go. If your still shooting film, your still listening to eight tracks, and listening to disco. Keep on Truckin’ folks!!
Following a meal, the pups usually lie down and sleep. Not unlike myself at thanksgiving dinner. What’s next on the agenda for these guys, a Dallas Cowboys game? Maybe catch a few AKC commercials and a growl at Caesar Milan.
When they wake up from the nap, within five minutes, the place smells like a locker room. Overwhelming. How a four pound dog is able to generate this much stink should be a research topic at some university.
Paper patrol continues, as does the saucer feeding. Certainly one of the highlights of raising a litter. When Dawn rings the dinner bell, “Puppy puppy puppy” they come running in like an Olympic athlete, jumping hurdles, running over the top of one another, and plunging into the saucer. Someone is going to pull a hamstring.
Laundry also continues at an alarming pace. I have gotten lacsidaisical about sorting however. I now have pink socks, and underwear. Most of the pups don’t mind, but Her Serene Highness The Princess of Monaco demands clean WHITE bath towels. Can you imagine if we had an Elizabeth Taylor in the litter? Eek!
I am including a collage of head shots taken today. Digital photography is the only way to go. If your still shooting film, your still listening to eight tracks, and listening to disco. Keep on Truckin’ folks!!
And remember to click the photos for the full size view!!
C YA
C YA
Two in one day!!
I am going to post twice today. It’s appropriate that I post a few photos of the resident dogs. They are as affected by all this as we are. Look for the “Normal” post this evening, minus the editorial from last night.
While I am a new at breeding, I am not new at photography. All these are digital shots from a digital SLR.
And without further adieu, Our dogs. The shot on the stairs, with Perri, and Gomez was simple. These two will hang out together for ever. The shot of Daisy and her toys, (We didnt name her, she was a rescue) is typical. She isnt happy unless she has ALL the toys. The final shot, Perri and Zeus, took about 12 hours. Getting two dogs to pose exactly like you want takes a staggering amount of time.
While I am a new at breeding, I am not new at photography. All these are digital shots from a digital SLR.
And without further adieu, Our dogs. The shot on the stairs, with Perri, and Gomez was simple. These two will hang out together for ever. The shot of Daisy and her toys, (We didnt name her, she was a rescue) is typical. She isnt happy unless she has ALL the toys. The final shot, Perri and Zeus, took about 12 hours. Getting two dogs to pose exactly like you want takes a staggering amount of time.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
And we are back on the air!
Satire (noun)
1. The use of wit, especially irony, sarcasm, and ridicule, to criticize faults.
2. A literary work that uses satire or the branch of literature made up of such works.
This definition brought to you by Encarta Dictionary: English (North America) sounds official doesn’t it? Actually, it comes bundled with Microsoft Word. Aint it cool getting something free?
From the “For what it’s worth department” This blog was never intended to be ANYTHING but a tongue in cheek look at a novice raising his first litter. It’s not supposed to be particularly accurate from a clinical standpoint, and it’s certainly not educational. There are a million web sites, and books out there at your disposal. I would be more than happy to post a few links to Amazon.com for books I purchased. They have a GREAT humor section too. *hint-hint*
And on a side note, my father never laid a hand on me. He never had to. I was a perfect son who got all “A’s” on his report card, dated the head cheerleader, was on the honor roll, honor society, honor system, prom king, captain of the football team, hockey team, baseball team, Church volunteer, cub scout, boy scout, eagle scout. This explains why I weld pipe for a living.
Now. On to the pups. We wormed the little guys Thursday. If I live to be 100 years old, it will be ok if I never see that again. Ugh. Dawn was so disgusted this became “Mans work” That’s ok. Dishes are “Women’s work” along with cooking, cleaning, vacuuming, housekeeping, etc. (When she reads this, I’m dead)
We have had a lot of children come over to see the pups. The neighbors have a one year old, and she couldn’t decide if she liked the pups, me, or the Payless shoe box. So much for THAT social experiment.
The pups respond well to everyone. I have no benchmark to compare them to, I’m NEW, REMEMBER!! But to me, they all seem like life is one big spring break. (Minus the Jimmy Buffett tripe)
I gotta run. Boji is crying, the pups are whining, the resident dogs are barking, Dawn needs help,,,,,,,,,,,,,
C YA
1. The use of wit, especially irony, sarcasm, and ridicule, to criticize faults.
2. A literary work that uses satire or the branch of literature made up of such works.
This definition brought to you by Encarta Dictionary: English (North America) sounds official doesn’t it? Actually, it comes bundled with Microsoft Word. Aint it cool getting something free?
From the “For what it’s worth department” This blog was never intended to be ANYTHING but a tongue in cheek look at a novice raising his first litter. It’s not supposed to be particularly accurate from a clinical standpoint, and it’s certainly not educational. There are a million web sites, and books out there at your disposal. I would be more than happy to post a few links to Amazon.com for books I purchased. They have a GREAT humor section too. *hint-hint*
And on a side note, my father never laid a hand on me. He never had to. I was a perfect son who got all “A’s” on his report card, dated the head cheerleader, was on the honor roll, honor society, honor system, prom king, captain of the football team, hockey team, baseball team, Church volunteer, cub scout, boy scout, eagle scout. This explains why I weld pipe for a living.
Now. On to the pups. We wormed the little guys Thursday. If I live to be 100 years old, it will be ok if I never see that again. Ugh. Dawn was so disgusted this became “Mans work” That’s ok. Dishes are “Women’s work” along with cooking, cleaning, vacuuming, housekeeping, etc. (When she reads this, I’m dead)
We have had a lot of children come over to see the pups. The neighbors have a one year old, and she couldn’t decide if she liked the pups, me, or the Payless shoe box. So much for THAT social experiment.
The pups respond well to everyone. I have no benchmark to compare them to, I’m NEW, REMEMBER!! But to me, they all seem like life is one big spring break. (Minus the Jimmy Buffett tripe)
I gotta run. Boji is crying, the pups are whining, the resident dogs are barking, Dawn needs help,,,,,,,,,,,,,
C YA
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