i believe in dog

we had a busy easter with lots of visitors, which temporarily removed my mind, it seems. i would take sam for walks and forget a "scoopy doo" bag. i was in danger of embarassing myself, my dog and dog owners everywhere by becoming one of those people, the ones who don't clean up after their dogs.

halfway through one of these walks i realised my predicament, and started praying to the big dog in the sky that sam wouldn't need to poo on this walk. especially since i knew he had a slightly upset tummy from adventurous treats given by guests.

sam did, of course, need to poo. but a miracle happened. he did it straight over a sewer grate. there were four little plops... and our honour was saved.

the photo: 'Wuff by Zickie on flickr.

in training

we have put various schemes into practice in order to become better dogs and owners (let who is what be endlessly debated by philosophers scholars). first, a most enjoyable training session: sitting by the river enjoying coffee and easter choklit while sam practised being good in the fenced-in part of the garden. he was very good, with no jumping onto the fence at all, and only a few pawings at the gate. this good behaviour was probably helped by the fact that one of the trainers was the great leader himself.

then, another session today where sam was supposed to be nice and quiet indoors while mom and daughter spent some time out front. he was quite calm, neither barking nor howling. unfortunately, though, i hadn't shut the door between corridor and living room, so sam soon went into that inviting room with its bay window. i realised something was wrong when i heard a thump and saw a huge dog leaning against the glass. amazingly, the potted plants and sewing machine which live in the window were still standing -- sam has become more dainty, possibly learnt from my daughter, possibly not.

but we aren't the only ones being trainers! sam must have sniffed out news about weave poles, because that's what he started practising with me in the thicket today. sam wove between the trees, and i unwove his long lead behind him. fun was had by some.

there's no such thing as a good dog

when i said sam hadn't done any mischief lately, i was of course being amnesiac. i guess since his latest antics haven't left visible scars, they're more likely to be forgotten.

item number one: daughter and i bought a nice, crisp, tasty loaf of bread in town. we came home to madhappydog and were amused at his antics. i was putting away the shopping when she said, bemusedly: "he took the parcel!" i went upstairs to his hideout to see what "parcel" the dog had been stealing, but only saw the usual scattered paper bags. i went down again to look for the bread in its white paper bag. in vain. that's when i realised the true meaning of "parcel".

item number two: my mother, not presently used to dogs or toddler in her home life, had left some pills on the stairs in order to take them up into the bathroom later. sam found them out and helped her take them upstairs. he even helpfully opened the box and started crushing one of the pills. fortunately, it seems they didn't have a very nice taste, because he didn't eat them all up. from now on, i'll be leaving all his medicine in enticing places.

i think that's all for the moment. but yon sam hath a mean and hungry look... i'd better be on the lookout.

an hour later: sam just tried to eat a wet wipe which had been used in the snot-wiping business. however, i was on the lookout, and he only got half of it.

good times

well, sam has spent the last few days being mostly good, meaning there is little to put in the blog. he seems intent on becoming a proper lapdog, putting as much of himself as he can fit in my lap, licking my face and nuzzling the keyboard and the books lying next to it. perhaps he is trying to be as much of a cat as possible, in order to prevent us from getting one which will terrorise him?

we have had house guests -- a family friend and my parents -- and the dog was chuffed when the house was full of people. and him safely ensconced in the middle.

we have also met the inquisition -- a representative from the RSPCA who called to see how we were treating our stray. we got top marks on everything except tagging -- we bought a name tag which he destroyed after a day, and didn't bother with a replacement -- and leaving, which, we were told, must not involve tying him up. we felt like naughty doggies hearing this, but have decided to cease and desist, and are therefore to be considered good doggies again.

what's on the stairs today?

in the last few days, sam has had some digestion problems, resulting in the evocative smell of runny poo combined with that of cleaning chemicals. that trouble has cleared, thank dog, and sam even did his bit to give the staircase a fresher, more hygienic scent. how? he stole the children's tooth paste, which he has had his eye on for a while, and mauled it to death then and there.

if this gives him indigestion, i'm going to force him to eat it! wait... better not get into that particular vicious cycle.

naughty doggies

if sam had a doghouse, he would have been in it after his behaviour over the last few days. first he chased sweaters, then he caused me grievous footy harm, and as if that wasn't enough, he started chewing on my new plum tree in the garden! branches were harmed! he's only allowed there under heavy guard now.

still, reading about other dogs' mischief, such as mountain dogs munching money, terriers teasing with tasty bones or hounds helping out with halting economy, makes me realise that sam isn't a particularly mischievous mutt after all. just... average. with big teeth and a lot of weight.

with a steady supply of branches and bones that are okay to chew, toys and insects that are okay to chase, and walks where it's okay to go mad a little, he seems to be contained. for now.

a big pup

doggie and humans: just before adoption, and four+ months after.

sam seems to have grown a little since we got him. first i thought it was simply him getting more confident, not to mention better fed, as his former loving owner had kept him quite skinny. however, when we noticed that he could now comfortably rest his head on a dining table he previously had to jump up to reach, we knew it was true: our pup has been growin.

sam has retained a lot of his youthful playfulness, which can on occasion be rather annoying in a dog so huge. he'll casually pull down coats and rip them to shreds -- mostly, we're able to channel this skill into an old carpet in the garden, but sometimes he gets a kick and forgets that clothes are not his toys.

today, he decided that my daughter's sweater would be good fun to chase and worry. unfortunately, the sweater was still on my daughter. while he the time of his life tugging at her sleeve, she wanted the sweater and herself to stay where they were, and not be dragged about. i came flying to the rescue, like an avenging mother, and trod (with bare feet) on a pair of sharp tacks which were lying scattered (by playful doggie, no doubt) in the garden.

while i was rather angry, that darned dog was caught in a mix of exuberant playfulness and fear of the great leaderess. he danced about while i was trying to catch him, then banged himself about to get loose. big heavy dog on my frail musician's hands equals hurt hands.

i almost felt like locking the door and throwing away the key after i'd thrown him into the garden shed to calm down a little. but i didn't, i just closed it. after some time, and some whining and thrashing, sam managed to open the door and sauntered out. cowed? perhaps. still full of fun and games? you betcha!