The Attack of the Chihuahuas

We went for a walk tonight, in the beautifully warmish night.

As experienced walkers, Honey and I are pretty familiar with the canine denizens of the borough. We know about the big barker five houses down the road, the three medium frantic guards two blocks down, and the old guy who barks as a mere formality about halfway through our walk. As a rule, we are rarely surprised. We even know when the young golden retriever will gallop out of his driveway to greet Honey.

As we were walking tonight, we had our first surprise in a long while. About a third of our way in our walk, we heard ferocious barking. Two little bolts of lightning in the shape of Chihuahuas ran towards the little lady, showing that they were masters of their domain.

Honey, in her usual fashion, was entirely unfazed. She just looked at me for the lead on what to do. I proceeded to put myself between the mini-dogs and Honey, and as I waited for the owners to come fetch them, I petter Honey's flank and reminded her of what a good girl she was. The dogs, crazed with desires to protect their turf, were viciously barking, and I was afraid one of them little dogs would jump and try to bite Honey.

The owners called the Chihuahuas back, and they let Honey know that it was only because they had been called back that she didn't get her butt kicked. The little lady, again, was completely calm, sitting by my side, following my lead.

As we walked away, she kept looking back at me. We finally were about two houses away, and we stopped. I petter her, let her lick me a little, and told her she was the best girl in the world.

Texas Weather Strikes Again!

After a warmer-than-usual winter that lasted all the way to the beginning of February, the powers that be decided to make sure winter went out with a bang.

While the daytime temperatures continued to steadily increase to the high 70s and low 80s, people in Texas began to divide between those who loved the warm temperatures and those who felt cheated because winter wasn't cold enough.

The newscasts started saying that a cold snap was coming . . . and it sure did.

Wednesday, the high was around 82 degrees. The high on Thursday? It was about 30 degrees.

It's been a whole week. The temperatures have started to slowly climb back up, and while they're at a balmy 60-something degrees, it's been raining for a while.

Texas weather strikes again. I've learned my lesson . . . I gotta prepare for all the eventualities.

Removing a Growth

Being 10, Honey is a senior dog. About 4 months ago, Honey went to the vet for her six-month checkup, and the vet discovered a growth on her right front leg. After doing a quick little biopsy, the vet recommended that we remove the growth.

I was finally able to get her to the vet on Friday. I dropped her off in the morning, and the last thing I saw was her little face with this "You're leaving me here?" look on her face. Since I had to work and my roommate was home for the day, he took care of all the calls that came from the vet, including, but not limited to putting in a catherer. Her liver enzyme levels were off, and the vet didn't want to overtax her liver.

Ron picked up Honey around 3:00 p.m., and from what Ron told me, Honey moved about the house, looking for something. She finally went to her little bed and laid down to sleep.

When I got home from work, Honey went from dead sleep to full "Hello Daddy!" mode in no time flat. She ran over to me and whined and whined, instead of her usual barks. She showed me her front legs, on which there were two bandages (one for the IV line, and the other one where growth was removed). I petted her, hugged her, and showered with reassurance . . . letting her know that everything would be OK. After much hugging and loving, Honey proceeded to get in her little bed, and slept most of the rest of the afternoon and evening. She was still pretty out of it.

On Saturday, I tried to get her to drink water, as she had had none on Friday. She had a few gulps, and ate a few treats, but that was it. She spent most of the day in bed again.

By the evening, she was definitely much better. After I did her daily brushing, she thanked me profusely, laid in her little bed, and sighed . . . her first real sigh since Thursday night.

All is well again.

"Why Can't I Say 'Hello,' Daddy?"

My laptop, which I use to update this blog, was having problems, and after a long talk over the phone with customer support, Dell decided to send a tech to replace the defective parts.

The tech arrived within 24 hours with the part. Honey heard him coming and as usual did her song and dance. After all, she had the opportunity to meet a new friend.

The guy was pretty cool about this 41-pound doggie wanting to say hello. I held her back by her collar, told her to lay down, and as she waited, I gave the tech my laptop. He sat down and started working on the laptop right away. He was very professional.

Honey kept looking at me and at him. She managed to get up a couple of times and walked over to him, and tried to put her little head on his knee. I kept calling her back, as I didn't want her to keep him from doing his job.

Every time I called her back, she would look at me dejectedly, wander back sadly, and give me the "How come I can't say 'Hello!' daddy?" She finally decided to lay down at my feet and waited for the tech to finish his job.

When he was done, the tech packed his gear away, and gave me my fixed laptop. On his way out, he gave her a little pat on her head . . . and she was in heaven.

Christmas in February

Due to scheduling conflicts and the sheer busyness of life, Honey has had to endure living in a winter wonderland way after Christmas.

Today, my roommate and I have packed away all the Christmas stuff (at last!), and the Honey Bunny has been a little bit farklempt (look it up, it's Yiddish). All those boxes out and stuff being put away put her in a state, because she always get a little scared when the boxes come out.

She is adopted, and her first family had to give her up when they had to move from their house to an apartment. If she still remembers the ordeal, I am sure that having boxes would definitely have her a little freaked out. There might be an implication in her little brain that boxes mean being sent to the pound again . . . but I might just be reading too much into her little doggie actions.

Since she is thoroughly loved and seriously spoiled, she got more than a few hugs, quite a lot of affirmation, and a greater-than-usual share of treats.

She is well, all the Christmas stuff is put away . . . and peace abounds.

Stormy Nights for Scaredy Dogs

As breeds go, Australian Cattle Dogs are great. They're smart, hard-working, and get along real well with people. In competition, they're members of the working breeds . . . which means that as a breed, even if they're born in the city, they still have pretty strong instincts and can herd cattle, if you drop them in a farm.

There's one thing that these dogs can't stand: thunder. It scares them viscerally.

Honey is no exception. She is scared of thunder, and she doesn't know where to hide or what to do when a Texas thunderstorm hits. If I am home, I usually call her over and hold her in my arms while I reassure her that it is going to be fine. The poor little pooch shakes so hard, it feels like she's vibrating.

The other night, a thunderstorm rolled in, and I was woken up by Honey, who was running around all over the room, looking for shelter. It took me three times as long to calm her down, because without the lights, every lightning strike would light up the room.

I finally managed to hold her down, and started to tell her how everything would be OK. I spent about 30 minutes with her, soothing her. After what seemed like an eternity, she was still vibrating, but as we drifted off back to sleep, I heard her give a big sigh of relief, because I was holding her.

Honey finally drifted off to slumber land, and all was well in the world.