Puppy

August 1, 2014

The Magic Friend-Maker

Tomorrow, our bundle of unrelenting energy, Mayhem, the pup, will celebrate 365 days of  very fine living.  Mayhem has a lot to show for her year on the planet.  She grew a full set of adult teeth while shedding her puppy teeth around the house.  She went from seven pounds to 32 pounds on a slow day.  And with her exuberant love of all people and dogs, she has brought new friends; human and canine into our lives.

The fluffy ball of cute that I used to tuck into the crook of my arm, is now not only too big, but far too busy to be held at a resting state.  She has picked up friends at the park, gathering them as she herds balls throughout the house.  Months ago on a walk we met such a friend who now all we have to do is say her name “B-E-B-E” and she shoots to the front door ready to play.  (Spelled it out in case I forgot and said it aloud.)

As I’ve previously lamented, my house has taken a beating from her teething and toys, but she entertains far more than she destroys.  Just this morning she spent ten minutes barking at the reflection of herself in the fireplace glass.  (I know all the sites claim Border Collies are bright but…)  She also barks at unexpected shadows, i.e.; the outside umbrella that holds no interest for her during the day, but at night is apparently downright frightening.

She has mastered the art of the full body, low to the ground, wiggle so that when we come home, we instantly feel cherished and missed.  Erases a bad day in an instant.  And we swear that she smiles if we pet her belly just so.

Unfortunately, Mayhem loves the chomp of a good bee.  We’ve pointed out to her after her third (yup, she does not learn from previous mistakes) bee sting caused her to swell up and go into anaphylactic (the word’s as scary to spell as it is to see) shock that kibble might be better.  But after a night on steroids and Benadryl IV’s at the local vet ($$$$) she came home and on her very next walk tried to inhale a bee flying in front of her face.  She smiled at me too when I tugged on her leash.

When I was younger, sometime after the Industrial Revolution, my favorite book was The Magic Friend-Maker by Gladys Baker Bond.  One little girl finds friendship when she shares her ‘magic’ rock with another.  Mayhem is our ‘magic’ rock wherever we go.  People (even the previously grumpy ones) stop and exclaim over her blue eyes, her joyful disposition, and her extreme focus on anything that moves.  We end up talking and sharing puppy/human stories.  She cures the crankiness out of any day.

Happy 1st Birthday Mayhem; our very own magic friend-maker.

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My favorite book … a long time ago

 

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Mayhem drying off after a good swim

 

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Mayhem at four weeks old

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Bebe and Mayhem  playing at the beach

June 9, 2014

Mayhem In Our Life

Picture this scenario, the kids are grown and out of the house, we work and play taking care of only ourselves, and one day we ask ourselves how can we possibly make this better? I know, let’s get an adorable, puffy puppy to nurture and love…Cue the humans and puppies running outside in the butterfly filled meadow music…We are the perpetrators. We created the situation in which we now find ourselves. Mayhem (the definition of a verb – an action word) pup is now ten months old and not one bit easier or less exhausting than the day we brought her home.

We double whammy’d ourselves when we brought Mayhem into our lives, because (one hyper, way too smart, can run up to 100 (not a typo) miles per day) Border Collie pup equals a litter full of any other type of dog. To put it succinctly, this dog needs to be intellectually and physically stimulated ALL DAY LONG.

Powerful sigh.

On the positive side, she keeps us fit, because when she’s moving, which is always, we are too.

For fun and because she demands it, we have taught her to sit, stay, back up, give us her paw, twist, weave, get the ball, get the bone, go to her crate, go to the fireplace, get water and more…The kick is, she only does her tricks, when she darn well feels like it.

Of course we adore her silly self, but when she wakes us long before our alarm would ever go off, I think, with a smidgen of envy, of all the people who get to sleep until at least daylight.

Yesterday, she woke us at 5:50 a.m. She slept in a bit. She was at the park chasing a frisbee by 6:30 a.m. At 8 a.m. she was in the kitchen attacking an empty Gatorade bottle filled with kibble, with the cap super glued on by my husband.

While she herded that and three other toys my husband threw across the kitchen floor, we ate breakfast. Quiet and calm are not words that would describe our mornings. Ever.

We hiked for two hours in the late morning, came home and swam, she took a brief (if you blink, you’ll miss it) nap. She also ate the down/cotton inside my comforter while I took a five minute shower, chewed a sweater I left on the ground, and yipped at me when I tried to sit in a chair…for one frigging minute.

Then she and I walked five miles to a park and back with a friend and her deliciously calmer pup. Once there, we spent an hour in the park where Mayhem and BeBe (the way better behaved) pup wrestled with another eight month old dog.

She came home happy. Danced around the house. And finally passed out around 10 p.m. My husband and I stood over her sprawled out self and oohed and ahhed over how cute she looked snoring lightly on the couch, one paw dangling like a drunken sailor over the side. We must have amnesia or some deeper form of brain damage (advice Princess?) because as we stood there, we couldn’t stop grinning.

“Isn’t she great?!” We told each other.

Some days I think we mean it.

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Mayhem in motion

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Mayhem at the park

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Mayhem ready to jump in the pool, again.

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Mayhem pretends not to be chewing the comforter.

 

February 21, 2014

Life with Mayhem

The everyday big picture is often fraught with life hurdles; work, health, personal…the usual that blocks our life path in a million different ways.  It’s easy to get stuck hyper-focusing on the seemingly insurmountable issues.  I know it.  I’ve been there and continue to do it no matter how many lectures I give myself. Some days though I find success in laughing at the little picture which helps me to buffer my awareness of larger events.

Welcome to our pup.  The dog who makes me crave the big issues because her little issues are unendingly exhausting and yes, children I still find her…somewhat adorable.

Mayhem, my new name for our over-active pup, is on three weeks of no exercise, due to a leg injury.  Imagine what it is like to live with a creature that craves, needs, and must have movement and yet said creature is only allowed to walk to the water bowl, food bowl and outside to go to the bathroom?

Miserable, is the lightest word I can come up with.

Day one…Mayhem wakes up at five a.m. and wants to play.  We put her on the bed where she proceeds to pounce on us, drool on our faces and bark until we get up.

She then sits/dances/bounces at my feet while I painstakingly put on my mascara.  I’m close to leaving on time for work when I feel it.  I have to sneeze.  Wet mascara and sneezes don’t work.  Nor does pinching the bridge of one’s nose.  It hurts though.  I sneeze mightily and manage to ring my eyelids and upper cheekbones with mascara.  I finally convince Mayhem that she really wants to go in the crate with her favorite chew toys.

I leave for work ten minutes late.

Traffic is scary with motorcyclists attempting to become instant organ donors as they barrel in and out of traffic.

My headphones give me a cold headache because they sat outside in my car overnight.  It feels like ice cubes are being shoved into my ears.

I stop to get coffee because I need it.  I dribble the first and next sip onto my blouse and slacks.

I trip walking up the steps to work, spilling more coffee.

The inside door is locked.  I put everything down and root around for my office keys.  Everything spills out of my purse.

When I put my key into the lock, someone opens the door from the inside and I almost fall.

I decide that maybe three weeks at home entertaining Mayhem may be easier than trying to get to work.

 

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Mayhem (Izzy) at six weeks