Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts

Sunday, April 7, 2024

Springing Forward With New Fur-ever Friend Freddie

I have exciting news! Are you sitting? Good.

I haven't really paid much attention to this blog over the last month or so (reason to be explained later, if you haven't gleaned from title). 

In my last blog I mentioned that I have hit 25K visitors to my blog, which was amazing! So when I sat down to attempt to write this blog, I was shocked to see that I have now hit over 30K visitors! WTF? 

What makes it even more interesting is the fact that the lion's share of new readers are in Hong Kong. As you can see from the image below, over the last month, almost 5K views from Hong Kong! No idea how they unearthed it, and I don't know anyone there, but hey, thanks for reading! Or I should say, "xie.xie!"




Meet Freddie Mercury, master of mayhem

My other piece of news is that I've added a fur family member recently, a puppy named Freddie. He started off as Teddy but we decidedly pretty quickly, he was more of a Freddie. Also, I felt it was bad mojo to move away from my Musician naming convention.  

Think of him as my adorable new alarm clock that came without a snooze button.

I'm sure a few of you are questioning my sanity. I get it. There's certainly a chance this was some type of perimenopausal-induced madness. God knows there's a laundry list of not-so-great symptoms; questionable life decisions is probably somewhere on the list. 

I've certainly questioned the decision a few times myself, if I'm being honest. I told no one -including my own family - because I kept questioning my own logic, and psychologically needed a possible out. Was I sick of my footloose-and-fancy-freeness? Or thought perhaps I was getting too much quality sleep? No! I assure you the latter is not the case. Sleep is one of my love languages.

While it sounds insane, I wanted to get a new puppy because my existing dog, Bowie, needed a companion. After my older dog, Marley, died at the end of 2022, Bowie stopped playing with toys and became more withdrawn. Dogs enjoy being part of a pack. 


To be honest, I've historically have had two dogs at the same time. Although it sounds like it's twice the work; if you're doing anything with one, it's really not that much work doing it for two. Other than walks, that is. It's kind of a "what's-a-pound-to-an-elephant?" proposition.

I bought my first Tibetan Terrier, Dudley, back in 2005, when I still had my original dog, an older golden retriever named Bogart. Dudley brought excitement back into Bogart's life, who at 11yo was mainly interested in two things: food and sleep.  After adding the puppy, I swear he lived another four years, in part because of his new companion (and interesting new food smells that came along with him). 

Raising a puppy is not easy. I'm exhausted all the time. My shitty short-term memory is even shitier with my sleep-deprived brain fog. 


My house has become a dangerous gauntlet of chew toys, bones and baby gates. At any time throughout the day, I probably have puppy poop under my fingernails, and there's a faint smell of urine, the source of which I have not been able to clearly identify. Basically, puppy-induced chaos.

The first week I felt like I had a newborn again; sleepwalking through my day. Needed nighttime potty breaks and then he's up with the sun. While he thinks 6 am is a suitable time to rise and shine, I vehemently disagree due to the fact that sleep is one of my favorite things. 

Upside is I've learned I can sleep quite soundly wearing noise-canceling headphones. I wish they had those around when I had screaming newborns. Pavlov's theory proven: I put those headphones on, and my body instantly relaxes, melts into my sheets and my brain starts saying, "What puppy? You don't have a puppy...for the next hour." 

Sadly, I often awake to Bowie, wide awake, staring at me in disgust. Apparently he can hear him.

I wish I could say I enjoy being up hours earlier than I normally would be, reaping the benefit of that extra time. I was raised by a cheery morning person who constantly reminded me of all the amazing things you can accomplish by "getting up with the chickens." Well, I'm on week four of my newly imposed wakeup time, and I'm more than happy to debunk this myth. 

So far, the only upside is I can now watch CBS Sunday Morning in its entirety. Cute show; you should check it out. 😏 I've actually seen it before but it's usually just the last 5 minutes.

And, as I am writing this, I am fully aware it will take me 87 attempts to finish this blog, as Freddie's attention span is short, while his capacity for terror is massive.



What's he like? His breeder described him as "smart, curious and happy." Hmmm. She obviously didn't remember our initial conversation. This is my 5th dog, so I know personality outweighs good looks. I told her I care much less about color and markings, but really want a sweet, snuggly puppy. I didn't say lethargic, but if that were an option, I would have.

I also knew damn well I didn't want the smartest puppy. "He was the first one of the eight in his litter to learn how to climb the stairs," the breeder brags. Translation: a climber...fabulous.

I've owned dogs for 30 years and know full well that you don't want a smart dog; shoot for mid-range intelligence. You don't want dumb and untrainable, but smart dogs require owners that are one step ahead of them; not a cranky perimenopausal women with a passion for sleep! 



How do I describe him? Imagine if the Road Runner and the Tasmanian Devil somehow had a love child...that would be Freddie. He's a handful but he's also the cutest little pain in the ass ever. And, most importantly, Bowie seems to have taken a liking to him. At a reasonable hour, of course. And, he really is snuggly...right before he falls asleep. 

I hope this blog finds everyone healthy, happy and ready to embrace the warmth of spring. 

Until next time,

Barb and the boys 


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Sunday, November 13, 2022

My Marley: the Best Worst Dog Ever

Some of you know that I recently had to put down my older dog, Marley, who has been my most faithful constant companion for almost 16 years. He would have celebrated that milestone next month actually. I will admit losing him has been heartbreaking. Yes, he had a wonderful life, and I was quite fortunate to have had him as long as I did. That is true, but still such a loss.

Marley was my third dog, although my family also had several dogs growing up. Right out of the gate, he was a handful. Dudley was just a year older so it was obvious from the start that Marley was a livewire, not the laidback dog his furry predecessor was. 

He was always into something, a committed life-long trash tipper/looter. No trash can was safe; ask any member of my family who have had their own trash cans looted by that dog. Nothing like coming home to a disaster like that or getting in bed only to find a tuna can has been left under the sheets. 

All I can say is thank God the dog didn't have opposable thumbs! Can you only imagine the crimes he would have been able to commit with just a tad more agility? Terrifying. 



Possiby the worst was one year at Thangsiving. While we were all happily eating our amazing feast, he was in another room quietly sampling each of the pies my Aunt Marilyn, Arkansas' version of Martha Stewart, had brought. Not the entire pie, just the center of each one. When he made to the pecan pie, he decided that was his favorite and ate a sizable amount. 

There were a whole lot of people not happy with Marley that day.

Despite his antics, he was mine and from the day we picked him up, I was the center of his universe. Always and forever. I mean quite literally all that dog ever wanted was to be by my side. He would quite literally follow me everywhere I went every day. In the almost 16 years he was with us, I could never close a door between he and I...ever. Very sweet in sentiment (who doesn't enjoy adoration) but in practice can be problematic. 

For one, it's quite embarassing when I have company and attempt to close a bathroom door and he would simply sit at the door and bark until I safely reemerged. I just got used to zero privacy and constantly stepping around or over his 30-lb body. 

Once when he was younger, I locked him in a bathroom during the Christmas holiday at my sister's house so we could all go play tennis and he wouldn't get into anything. I could see no other option. No way I could leave him out to pilfer and loot their entire house for hours without proper supervision. 

We came home a few hours later and he was about 80% through the door. Yes, he had spent the whole time dismantling the bathroom door. Who knew a dog could even do that? My brother in law hated him for the remainder of his life because of that particular episode.

A few years ago, I went to visit Laura at college her senior year. Marley's clinginess has actually gotten much worse after his brother Dudley died suddenly at 10. So I was concerned with leaving him but again, decided to lock him in her room while we went to dinner to prevent him from looting the rest of the house. I did give him a Xanax before we left, as prescribed by his vet for his separation anxiety. A few of Laura's roommate's parents found it alarming I was medicating him for such a short time.

They didn't know the history. A few hours later, we got a call from one of those parents reporting that he was halfway through the drywall and making good progress, and perhaps we should return sooner than later. She commented that it was probably because he was thirsty. LOL. 😉

One year for work I had to travel to our global headquarters, which is in Paris. I was gone for a week but had neighbors come in at night and get Marley, walk and feed him and then let him stay overnight with them. He did fine, or so I assumed. My lovely neighbor upstairs asked if I had had any recent visitors. I said no, but she said while I was gone, she could hear what she said sounded like "an old lady moaning" for hours upon hours. 

I honestly couldn't imagine what she was talking about so when I got home, I put my GoPro in my bedroom to capture what happened when I left him. Note: this was a 20-minute run to the grocery store in the middle of the day. Also note that he is wearing his thunder jacket, which is supposed to provide comfort but as you can see is failing miserably. Moose mating? Or some sound a humpback whale would make? You can see why she thought it was a person, not a dog. 


The Runaway

Oddly enough, despite being a true stage-5 clinger, as evidenced by the prior instances, he was also a runner. I've never had a dog that ran before. People who are not dog people: some dogs are for whatever reason predisposed to take off and run and not come back, aka "runners." 

Growing up our dogs would just roam the neighborhood freely and eventually make their way back home when they were ready. So I was not prepared to deal with a dog that ran from me, especially one who seemed so fond of me.

Our house had a big yard with an invisible fence so for the most part, it wasn't an issue, but he was also very prey-motivated and our backyard backed up to woods so it was a veritable cornucopia of potential vermin victims. 

He knew if he left the yard, he would get zapped by the fence. But those creatures, which included squirrels, birds, bunnies, and the worst, groundhogs, were so enticing. At least to Marley. 

When one of these creatures was spotted and deemed worthy of the zap, Marley would run out in the yard and then quickly run multiple laps around my garden. That was the signal that he was about to escape. Picture a dog boomarang, shot-putting himself out of the yard. Often I would observe the wind-up and run outside in full screaming mode, "NOOOOOOOO, Marley!" Most of the time, however, he had already mentally committed to the escape so nothing would stop him. He would just run faster and faster and then aim straight toward that hill and yelp as he got zapped by the fence and then poof..he would be gone.

Once he was gone, he was gone for a while. I can't tell you the number of hours I gave chase up and over the berm that separated our subdivision from an industrial park with several businesses. Sometime I would even pursue in my car because he had serious wheels and I'm one of the slower humans on the planet.

One day he took off after one of the groundhogs and disappeared, once again, over the berm. I got in my car and parked in the park area and walk to each business to tell them, again, that I was missing my dog and if you see him, please grab him and call me. They had all heard this before. 

I got to one of the businesses, which I swear was a meth cooking lab inpersonating as a mechanic. One of them came out, no teeth and wearing overalls with no shirt underneath (Imagine Deliverance but without the southern accent and you get the proper mental picture).

He comes out and gives me a big toothless grin, belly laughs and says, "That Marley...he's a real bad dog, ain't he?" I couldn't help but laugh. Marley was indeed a very bad dog. I am still laughing at his comment as I see my car with the driver side door still open and a very muddy BAD dog sitting in the passenger seat looking quite pleased with his bad self. 

Yes, Marley was a bad dog. He was also the most loving, loyal dogs I have ever owned in my life so in many ways he was also the very best dog. Almost 16 years of being stalked by that big love leaves me very sad but also very grateful that I had him for as long as I did. 

I hope he's somewhere chasing vermin and running free.


I'll probably get another dog at some point as I'm so used to having a pair. Bowie, for the most part, seems to be dealing well with being an only dog. Yes, there have been some forced hugging and crying sessions he would probably rather not be a part of but he's being compliant and dealing with the increased amount of affection from his sad mom. 

He's a good boy but he'll never be the best worst dog. 

Until next time,

Barb 


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Saturday, March 28, 2020

6 Tips on Working From Home


I know, I know. You are all just in shock that you are being gifted once more with a blog from Barb. It's my CoronaVirus gift to you all. You missed the first one? No worries, read "It's About Damn Time" here. 

So knowing full well that you are all sitting around doing nothing has spurred me to action. I am like an obnoxious, attention-starved kid at a large family gathering who has finally gotten everyone's attention. I gotta strike while the attentive irons are hot.

So many of you are now being forced to work from home so I thought with my two decades of experience with this, I could pass along some true gems of knowledge as well as some best practices born from years of trial and error.

1. You're not really hungry. Just because your workspace is in close proximity to your kitchen does not mean you should be eating more. When I first starting working from home, it was like I could hear a voice summoning me to the refrigerator. Throughout the day I would find myself standing in front of the open fridge. Since I did all the grocery shopping, there were no surprises in there and yet here I stand. Am I hungry? I just ate a few hours ago. A month and five pounds later, I decided I needed a plan in place. So now I bribe myself; if I work for two hours without getting up, I reward myself with a treat.

2. You don't really have to pee again. I call this one POOB, or Peeing Out of Boredom. Yes, this is a real thing too. The problem with POOB is that once you have gotten up, there's a litany of other distractions—legit shiny objects—that will prevent you from going directly back to the office or workspace (laundry, wiping off counters, picking up, unloading the dishwasher, plucking your eyebrows, etc.). I admittedly have the attention span of a young ghat (not a mature adult ghat), so anything that takes my eye off the wheel is not good. A conflicting factor is I also have what my kids call a "kitten-sized bladder" so there is always an inner struggle: am I getting up to pee because I really need to or is it simply POOB.

3. Set boundaries with your kids (and spouse, if applicable). My children knew there were only two reasons to interrupt mom while she was working or even worse, on a call: unconsciousness and dangling limbs. That's it. Anything else can and will wait. My office was in the front of my house, so in the warmer weather with windows open, I could literally hear my kids a block away as they got off the bus fighting the whole walk home. I regrettably had a glass door to my office so they would come and silently plead their case or accuse their sibling of outrageous things. They would construct signs and hold them in the window, creative little shits. I can't imagine how you are all working with small kids you can't threaten to kill if they disturb you. I'm officially starting a prayer chain for you all. Stay strong. 

4. Dress down. There is no dress code, folks. Work-from-home attire is all about comfort. My "schlubby chic" look is comprised mostly of hoodies and sweatpants. I have amassed quite the collection of leisurewear over the years working from home, but I must admit that probably 80% of the time I am likely wearing one of three pairs of sweatpants: two pairs of flannel-lined Athleta sweatpants or a pair so ugly my ex used to refer to them as my "birth control" pants.

When the weather first turns chilly in the fall, putting these treasured garments on is like feeling the welcome embrace of an old lover. So warm and familiar. No judgement for occasional weight fluctuations. And, bras are optional ladies so let them free. Now a disclaimer: once you've let the horses run wild, they are not going to be too happy when you strap those saddles back on again. Gravity is not your friend so wearing at least a sports bra is probably best. 

The same theory applies to your waistline. So I would recommend every once in a while putting on a real pair of pants just to make sure the jello is still in the mold, so to speak. It's too late for me. I put on regular pants now and my entire lower body starts experiencing some form of claustrophobia and I feel like I'm slowly being suffocated. Same with shapewear but that's a whole other blog. 



5. The mute button is your friend. If you like me spend a fair amount of time in meetings, or calls, the mute button is essential. With it you can continue to participate in work calls while also: screaming at your kids, answering the door, passing gas, eating, peeing, beating and/or petting your dogs, throwing in a load of laundry, etc. I know this because I have done ALL of these things while also on work calls. Not naming names, but I've been on calls when people forget this valuable tip and while incredibly amusing, you don't want to be this person.

6. Communicate with others. Those of you with a spouse and/or kids at home, this one will be easy lifting. For those of us who live alone, however, be sure you reach out and communicate in some form with others daily. I've spent years teaching my dogs English so I spend a lot of time talking at them. I also rely on texting, Skyping, exchanging memes on social media, and yes, even sometimes calling people to stay socially connected. My Boston-based work team has started doing weekly video meetings now that we are all WFH. My response to the initial idea was as long as it didn't impede with my religious right to observe "No Bra" Monday, I was in. 

 Bottom line. While I enjoy the social aspects of being in the office, my ghat-like attention span prevents me from being really productive. I think once the adjustment period is over, you will all find that you can actually be more productive and focused working from home.  

 Forge on soldiers, brighter, and warmer, days ahead. 

Yoga Update: I haven't given up! I will say that the minute I roll out my mat, my right buttock starts twitching in some type of Pavlovian response. I've enlisted Laura and we accidentally did an intermediate class this week. I was attempting this ridiculous pose where you try and balance your body with your knees on your elbows (I think they train elephants to do something similar). Anyway, I lost my balance and fell on my face. Entertaining, if nothing else. 

Bowie sitting on my head as I was attempting yoga.

I also struggle because every time I get on the floor, the dogs think I'm down there for them. So keeping them at bay while doing yoga makes any beginner class intermediate. I'm not giving up though. I'll keep you all posted on my progress. 

Hope you all trying to stay busy and active. Would love to hear what you are doing! 

Until next time. Namaste.

Barb

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