Gold Stars for Good Puppies

Anyone there? Levi has some news. Me's got a new gold star on my 'Good Boy' chart. Well, me don't really HAVE a chart but Moomie pretends that Levi does and she just added a shiny pretend star for OUTSTANDING big boy behavior!

Every since Levi came to live with Moomie and Daady me's been practicing, practicing, practicing like a fire drill in case Daady would fall on the floor. He can't walk, you know. Me didn't really know what that meant to "fall on the floor" but me figured it must hurt like when me rolls off the couch by accident. Anyway, we kept drilling for me to sit-stay out of the 'fall zone' every time Daady transfers in or out of his wheelchair.

Yesterday it happened. Daady fell while trying to sit on his shower bench. It happened so fast! He hit his head and was moaning and acting kind of scary. Moomie was acting all scary, too, checking for blood and trying to pull Daady by the feet so his head could get away from the shower wall. Then she put a pillow under his head and made a telephone call. All this time me was the perfect little schnauzer, still sit-staying out of the fall zone which is right along side of the wheelchair, real close-like to the brake lever should you ever have to learn to do it.

Finally, Moomie scooped me up and put me in the kitchen behind the baby gate. Me's didn't even let out a peep then or when a noisy truck roared up to the house and two guys came inside. Five minutes later two MORE guys came in. Me could hear them all asking Moomie and Daady questions. Daady can't talk much---just one word at a time---but when he said, "Gas" Moomie said, "He fine now. When he starts giving tours of the artwork, he's fine." (The bathroom is decorated with photos of old gas pumps that Daady used to collection.)

Then at night another bad thing happened. The lights went out and they stayed out for four hours. It was getting really cold in the house, too, and me didn't even fight Moomie when she put a winter coat on me. Daady didn't fight when she made him go to bed early either. Poor Moomie. She had quite a time getting Daady out of his electric La-Z-Boy in the dark. She was holding a flashlight in her mouth trying to put the back-up batteries in a thingie. Earlier she had hooked my flashing light on my collar and a clip-on light on Daady's shirt until she got us both where she wanted us to stay until the lights came back on. Moomie said to pretend we're all camping. Me doesn't know what camping is but me's don't think Levi would like it. Anyway, me's got another gold star but it was kind of dumb to get that second one just for not getting lost in the dark. Moomie doesn't seem to know that we doggies can see in the dark. ©

Smell ya later,

Love Levi

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Levi, The Material Boy

Things up here at the Rainbow Bridge are slowing down for me. We had so many volunteers wanting to do extra duty to help with the displayed dogs down in the hurricane areas that I got rotated back to my normal job of watching over my earth bound family. A few nights ago when I checked in on them I had to laugh at Mom. She was lying in bed wide awake and watching CNN at 3:30 in the morning while dad slept on one side of her and Levi slept on the other. She's got a not-so-secret addiction to politics which explains why Levi's blogging time is getting short-changed lately.

This morning Mom was talking to Dad about how many material things they've acquired since Levi came along. In the garage are two expandable, freestanding garden fences plus a foot high wire fence. They keep Levi from getting 'lost' while bug hunting in the corners of their three stall garage. It's his favorite play ground. Another expandable garden fence is at the deck steps to keep Levi down in the dog yard when it's raining. And I can't count high enough to catalog all the new toys in the house plus all my old ones that Levi inherited.

Mom's also hauled my old plastic crate and wire cage up from the basement to use for Levi. The plastic crate she's been using in the car since adoption day but she'd been resisting having the wire cage in the laundry room until about a month ago. (I didn't use either one in the last years of my life.) It was something the obedience class instructor said about dogs that aren't used to cages having a hard time when they have to be boarded or go to groomers that made her decide to get Levi cage broke. That and seeing all those hurricane dogs having to be caged while they wait to be reunited with their humans. But Levi hasn't had a bit of trouble in the cage. He's quiet, doesn't try to get out so Mom's no longer worried about him being cage savvy.

Also new: Levi first winter coat. Pretty macho, don't you think. Mine was too small for him.

Below is Levi's 90 foot clothesline that Mom uses in the back yard and his Easy Walk harness. The little blue thing is a Bling Blinker for Levi's collar. It turns on at night and can be seen up to ½ mile. The first night of adult obedience class Levi managed to chew the front off the harness while in route to the class, a ten minute trip---while he was wearing it! Mom bought a cheap dog collar---for the
fabric---and located an upholstery guy who was able to sew and save the pricy harness. The obedience class instructor helped Mom get it adjusted properly so he can't get it in his mouth again. But Mom's not taking any chances. He only wears it when he's working.

Look at all the grooming tools Levi has! Only one is a left-over from my days on earth and Mom plans to buy a table clap and hook like groomers use because Levi is still fighting getting brushed out.

But the real topper is that Mom talked to an electrician a couple of days ago about putting a spot light in the dog yard so she can see him and the toads better at night. That Levi, I don't get his fascination with toads and slugs. Me, I stayed away from these critters. Flies, yes, in my younger days I chased them around the house but I don't recall catching as many as Levi does. Mom says it was nice not having them in the house this past summer. (She's not good at closing doors when she lets Levi out so they sneak in.) But one day she purposely let a fly come inside just to keep Levi busy while she and Dad went away. Sigh, he's just as spoiled as I was.

It's time to get back to my nap. There's a big feather presentation ceremony tonight and I'm pretty sure I'll be getting a few permanent feathers added to my training wings. But you know what? I'm not as excited about that as I was when I got my first feather because---well, how do I say this?---because I'm learning that helping those in need has its own awards. ©

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Bad Boy, Bad Mom

Over night, my good two shoes brother turned into a bad boy in training. He found his voice. Literally. And he decided that barking is fun. It started in the morning after he'd been outside when he found Dad still asleep. Bark! Bark! Bark! Translation: "Get up and play with me." He was thinking if he couldn't get the canine-to-human mental telepathy going right, he'd try something more direct. But Mom intercepted his action, shooed him out of the room and then she played with him in the living room. "Fetch. "Drop it." "Good boy."

Later on, Mom was helping Dad with his shower and Levi was in the kitchen behind the baby gate when he decided to try out his new vocals again. She ignored him and he laid down to contemplate what he'd done wrong this time. His first venture into Barkland had brought Mom running and all things being equal, she should have come running again. He couldn't figure it out.

The afternoon brought more barking. The hole he tried to dig, the stuffie that wouldn't move, the cut green bean our dad dropped on the floor all seemed like barkable situations to little Levi. But the big-time barking party came at puppy socialization class. He talked to the other puppies and they talked back before they all got freed from their leashes.

During the question and answer time at class Mom asked how she should handle my bad little barking brother and the instructor told her to ignore him when he's barking during play. When he's barking and not playing she's suppose to distract him by calling him over to do a 'sit' or 'down' and then give him a treat.

The instructor admonished Mom when she found out that Levi isn't being crated at night. To defend herself, she tried to explain that he is crated in the car with no crying or whining and he's as good as gold when she puts him in the laundry room behind a baby gate at night and when our humans go away. Still, no excuse was acceptable. Mom told Dad on the way home that they are too old to lock a dog in a cage with no food or water. If something happened to her, it might be two days before anyone found them since Dad can't dial a phone or go get help. At least with free-feeding and no cage, Levi would have a chance. Bottom line: Levi is going to make Mom into a liar at the next puppy class or she's going to flunk out of puppy parenting if she doesn't lie. Poor Mom! She wants a well-mannered dog but she questions if there really is only one way to achieve that. Except for his recently discovered barking skill, Levi truly is a goodie two shoes so my money is on Mom doing it her way. ©


Photos from puppy class

Angel Puppy on Earth, Trouble Bubble in Heaven

I've been at the Rainbow Bridge just over two weeks now in human time. Up here, though, there is no such thing at time marked by weeks, months or even years. What is IS if you know what I mean. Mom and Dad still talk about me every day or I should say Mom talks and Dad listens because he can't talk since his stroke. She tells him stories about me as a pup and how much different little Levi is from me at the same age. They laugh and smile at the memories and pour the love on Levi that they can no longer give to me. I may be absent physically but I'm still presence in their hearts.

Levi is the perfect pup for them at this time in their lives. He is sweet and obedient and God knows I was anything but obedient. I was nicknamed the Trouble Bubble for a reason. Adopted at five-and-a-half weeks, I turned out to be a hell-raiser on four paws and didn't make an effort to get civilized until many months later when I had some sessions with a doggie shrink. (See this blog entry for details about Dr. Spock of Dogdoom.) But Mom and Dad were younger back then and they couldn't go through all they did with me again.

At fourteen weeks Levi was the last of his litter to find a home and many of the problems adjusting to living with humans that I had he never developed. He is so tender hearted that he gets his feelings hurt with the slightest reprimand and he takes Mom at her word when she says 'no' to things like chewing shoes laces and table legs. He also doesn't whine or cry when he has to sleep behind a baby gate in the laundry room or ride in a crate in the car. He accepts everything except the vacuum cleaner in his new world including the fact that he can't poop and pee in the house anymore. I'm bragging here but my baby brother even sent his very first mental telepathy message to our mom and she got it! He stood with his front paws on the window sill and kept looking back and forth between the view of the dog yard and Mom, asking her how he can get out there to do his job. Yup, God and I did a great job matching my humans up with little Levi.

Not that Levi is a perfect puppy. He has a stubborn streak about things like Mom's requirement that he not pull weeds in the dog yard and toss them in the air. And forget about the Fooey brand bitter tasting stuff she sprayed on the bark still left along the edges of the fence. Mom got some on her fingers and about gagged on her cookies when it got transferred by accident to her lips, but Levi likes it. He's also a puppy who loves to roll in the dirt and yesterday he discovered the joy of digging holes. Mom better hurry up and get those patio stones over my grave before Levi decides to dig up my bones.

Well, I'm off to my first Mother's Day party up here at the Bridge. I hear tell there will be grills set up where we can snatch all the hamburgers and hot dogs we want and there will be a champaign toast to our earth mothers everywhere. ©
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People Beds

I've got this thing about beds. I like to be underneath them. Oh, and did I get in trouble the first time I discovered how much fun that could be. I was just three months old and it was in a motel. I was on my very first vacation, going west to see the mountains. I didn't even have to belly crawl to scoot around down there. It was a jolly good time playing hide and seek until Mom and Dad got so exasperated trying to catch me that Dad huffed and puffed to lift the mattresses up and Mom snatched me off the floor. I spent a lot of time in the motel bathroom after that. That's when I first became acquainted with baby gates. I hate those things.

For many years my mom had an Early American bed that sat high off the floor and my cushy dog bed sat underneath it. Being close at night in a warm place where I could spread out and keep all my toys near by was my utopia for years. Then we moved to this placed called a wheelchair accessible house and my folks spend a lot of time getting the height of the bed just right for my dad to make transfers in and out of bed by himself. I miss that old high bed, though, and my bunker underneath. The new one is so low to the ground I have to belly crawl under it and half the time I get stuck down there.

Not so long ago, I crawled under the bed in the middle of the night looking Kleenex and ear plugs and you guessed it, I got stuck. Again. I cried a little---or a lot depending on whose telling the story---and it woke Mom up. I admit it was kind of scary. She had put plastic boxes under the bed, trying to make it hard for me find room enough to access that space. I fooled her, I got in under there that night, but I couldn't turn around to crawl back out. Mom ended up having to wake my dad up, get him in the wheelchair so she could lift the mattresses up to free me. After that happened, I got banned to staying in the kitchen and laundry room at night, behind the wicked baby gate. Have I mentioned that I hate baby gates? They could at least have the decency to call mine a dog gate in my presence. ©
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