Dog Biscuits

We were cleaning out the spare room this past weekend, and I ran across this recipe. I made them the summer I was a nanny, it was one of the projects I did with the kids. Dogs love them! I remember showing my mom the recipe, and she said "sheesh - the dogs will eat better than we do!"

3 1/2 cups all purpose flour
2 cups whole wheat flour
2 cups rye flour
2 cups cracked wheat
1/2 cup wheat germ
1/2 cup nonfat dry milk
2 t. salt
1 pkg. dry yeast
1 pint chicken stock
1 egg
1 tablespoon milk, for brushing

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Combine dry ingredients in a large bowl. Dissolve yeast in 1/4 cup warm water and add to the liquid. Pour into dry ingredients and mix well. Knead for about three minutes - the dough will be very stiff. Turn dough out onto a floured board. Roll to 1/4 inch thickness, and cut into desired shapes (we just used cookie cutters, but if you have a bone-shaped cutter that would be fun). Bake on a greased cookie sheet for 45 minutes. Turn off the heat and leave in the oven overnight to harden.

Bye bye, Angie...

My parents had to put their dog down yesterday. Silly me, I knew it was coming (Mom warned me on Sunday), and yet I *still* checked my home email from work and sat at my desk crying for about an hour when I got the news. You'd think I would know better.

They got Angie when I was in college, so she wasn't one of my childhood dogs. But, she was definitely one of the family. They found her at the pound when, the story goes, they went in looking for a short-haired dog. Then, they ran across Angie, who danced and pranced and generally tried harder than all the other dogs in the place to get them to take her with them. In spite of the fact that she was a long haired shepherd/collie mix, they couldn't resist and she went home that day. And dad's been cleaning up mountains of hair on a regular basis ever since.

She was a sweet dog, who wanted to be an only dog. Mom and Dad had four other dogs during their time with Angie, and she was never so happy as when she was the only one. She wanted all the love, all to herself. But, no matter what, she was a good, loving, mellow, happy dog. And we'll all miss her.

So goodbye Angie, and we'll see you at the Rainbow Bridge...

How to know your cat is not a bully...

When your cat comes home from the vet looking like this...



...you know your cat is not a bully! According to the vet tech: the bullies get it on the top of their heads and their faces. The victims get it toward the rear as they're desperately trying to escape.

So yep, it's official, Puck is not a bully...

One morning late last week he came in and had trouble jumping. On Sunday I noticed a big old squishy lump on his side. We got him to the vet yesterday, and he had an abscess, as we suspected. They did a little minor surgery to put a drain in, and sent him on his not-so-merry way.

I don't know who has it worse - Puck, for not being able to go outside till the weekend, or us, for having to listen to him whine and cry because he doesn't like being stuck in the house (for those of you who don't know, trying to force Puck to stay in the house causes all kinds of lovely consequences, like him peeing on our pillow-top mattress out of spite).

Overall, he seems to be doing ok with it. Other than, of course, the part where we have to flush it out twice a day and force antibiotics down him. Fortunately, it's Wednesday, and we get to take him back in on Friday to have it removed... But the dogs haven't been too obnoxious, and we made him a nice cushy bed in the garage so we wouldn't have to listen to him cry all night about how he wanted to go outside. He even used the litter box for the first time in months!

He's going to look a little funny till that shaved patch on his side grows back in, but we're just glad he's going to be ok...

Bath Day

If there's one thing the dogs hate, it's bath day. So it doesn't happen very often. But, they've got quite the little flea infestation going, and we like to have them clean when we put the flea medicine on them, so it's bath day. It's quite the process. First, we clear everything out of the bathroom. Then, hubby gets in the shower.

Hershey has to go first. Otherwise she'll run off someplace and we'll never get her in there. She'll know what's coming anyway, so I have to grab her by the scruff of her neck and drag her through the house as she leaves a trail of pee behind her (even if I put her out to go potty first). Hubby grabs her and tosses her in the shower, then scrubs her down twice, first with regular shampoo, and then with flea shampoo. Then he lets her out and I keep her contained in the bathroom while I give her the two towel dry-off. Then I have to force her to lay down somewhere so she doesn't slip all over the laminate with her still-damp feet.

Then it's Ringo's turn. Same process, except he can hold his bladder, which is nice. Until I let him out - then he finds the nearest dog bed (which happens to be Hershey's naturally) and pees on that, so as soon as he's done I have to run him outside but keep him from rolling.

Fun, fun, fun. No wonder our dogs don't get baths very often!

I feel like a parent

Ringo woke us up at 5:00 this morning with the tell-tale sign of an impending hurl. So, we got up (in a hurry), and I got him outside while hubby cleaned up the carpet (I can tell already that he's going to be the vomit parent when we have kids). Hubby got up with him and I tried to go back to sleep, but gave up about half an hour later with hurl #2.

This, of course, was after Puck hurled last night while we were eating dinner.

Two sick kids in less than 12 hours. Hershey-girl - it's your turn, sweetie! Don't miss out on all the fun!

At least they're entertaining...

I'm home sick today, and Hershey is amusing me. She lays out in the middle of the living room floor and randomly moans. She doesn't want anything, really - she doesn't need to go out (she just did), it's not meal time, and she's been getting love all morning. I think she just wants me to know she's still alive. Silly puppy!

Ringo, on the other hand, made me laugh so hard I cried on Saturday. We have these stupid yappy dogs in the yard behind us, who think that they could actually take my dogs in a fight. In reality, either of my dogs could step on one of them and that would be the end of it, and the other one would just require a good shake. But whatever. Anyway, I let the dogs out, and stupid yappy dog #1 ran up to the fence and started instigating something. Ringo, of course, took off to the fence, but he knows he's not supposed to bark (and lately he's been good about it). So what did he do? He calmly lifted his leg and peed through the fence onto stupid yappy dog! I laughed SO HARD! And yet stupid yappy dog just kept barking...

No one can ever say that pets aren't entertaining!

Do dogs remember?

The last two mornings we've had some snow. This morning there's some ice mixed in there just for fun, too. Which makes me wonder...do dogs remember? I've always heard that dogs just live in the moment, but I'm not so sure...

Last winter we had one really snowy day. We let the dogs out to play, and when they came back in Hershey was bleeding all over the place. She had somehow managed to rip a big hole in one of her pads. It took about two months to heal, which was a pretty traumatic experience for her because not only did she have to get it cleaned out all the time, she had to wear one of those collars, but it was too short and she could still rip her bandages off, so Larry extended it with cardboard. Which meant that she couldn't really see where she was going and she kept running (literally) into door frames. It was as if she thought if she went at the doorway fast enough, she'd just sail through it... Anyway, she was a pretty miserable dog for a couple of months!

Fast forward to yesterday. Woke up to about half an inch of snow on the ground. Ringo went bounding out into it, but Hershey, well, Hershey barely made it out the door. She was NOT happy about having to go outside! She stepped very tentatively through the snow, slowly, taking her own sweet time. she did the same thing again this morning. And she won't play with Ringo out there no matter what he does.

It really makes me wonder - does snow equal pain for her? Does she remember? Is she afraid it will happen again? Hmm...things to ponder...