EllenEveBaz

Fun fun fun! No need to apologize for Willa; she was using her outside voice perfectly appropriately.

Carol Becker Rizzo mentioned above custom made one for my girl's measurements and sent it out very quickly. It was a wonderful help. Best thoughts for your boy.

Gelsey enjoyed the last half of her raw sweet potato. Milo got a dental chew to keep it fair. Today, Gelsey was supervising me in the kitchen from her chair in the den, and noted one piece of shredded cheese (approx 1/2 inch x 5 ml) fall on the floor. She instantly transformed from Houndie at Leisure to the Vulture, kind of like Snoopy would get in the Peanuts comic strip. I moved away and said the magic "ok," and she leapt on it. It really surprised me that she saw the cheese fall -- it was so small. Her Blonde Bandit name has been changed to Red Fawn Felon, to make it more hound-color appropriate.

You could devise some sort of gauge for how much exploring fun there was by how high the snow is on the houndie face.

Crazy girl! (said in tones of great affection and admiration) Milo has figured out how to get out of his coat if it starts slipping. Somehow he gets it moved so it's hanging off the front of his neck, and then he steps on the coat and lowers his head till he gets it pulled off. Time to get new velcro for all those old coats, I guess. (Sorry, Jupiter)

Yay! All paws crossed here for the Daring Duo.

houndie castanets

Dog curls up next to human on sofa. Human pets dog. Dog immediately gets up, moves as far away as possible on sofa, facing away from human. This happens almost every day, with both dogs. I think it's given me some sort of complex.

French fries for everybody! That girl is so pretty she puts Dalmatians to shame.

Third agree! Greyhounds rule the world. Or should.

Don't you feel sorry for people whose homes are not decorated in real animal fur?

Almost 12 years ago, volunteers from a rescue program drove six hours to bring Milo for a home inspection and, we hoped, a final home. He had been dropped off as a skeletally thin stray at a kill shelter. Someone at the pound called this rescue program, knowing that one of the leaders had a hound of her own. "You'd better come and get this greyhound." She did. Then someone on GT posted his picture here. It was clear to discerning eyes that he wasn't full greyhound -- floppy ears and a round ribcage. Their guess was he had been someone's hunting dog. He had already bounced from his first home the program found for him. "Too expensive." I'm sure that was due to his fetish of chewing anything foam rubber or fiber. I will always remember my first sight of him -- jaunty step, ultra-curved tail, bright red brindle, eyes interested and alert. As a vet wrote in his records once Milo had recovered, "Beautiful dog." A DNA test showed 2/3 greyhound, 1/6 Tennessee treeing coonhound, and 1/6 whippet. That same test showed he has a ton of greyhound and mix cousins -- he must be a product of a large hunting dog breeding business. He's certainly done more than his share to reduce the number of wildlife who make it out of our back yard. And now he's 14 (probably older, but I picked New Year's Day as his birthday). I've never had a dog make it to 14 before. His face is all white now, and he carries both his head and his tail lower. He's got chronic lymphatic leukemia, a slow cancer, but he is doing great on the chemo. He's got good muscle mass on his rear legs and enjoys mile-long walks, just slower than before. He eats meals well with 5 fewer teeth, although will now accept room service for his good-night snack rather than coming in the kitchen. He goes out first thing in the morning, and comes racing back in the house, enjoying the new day. His step remains jaunty and purposeful. Part of the Dog Aging Project, he has aced every cognitive test they've set. Always congenial, he's now officially snuggly (although I think he's seeking an auxiliary heat source). He has developed a fear of some loud noises. I hope I'm not jinxing myself, but he hasn't made a documented wildlife kill in 15 months. I know he has missed going out on hours-long hunts with a pack of his besties, chasing coons and possums or wild hogs all night. But that didn't turn out so well for him. We've had our ups and downs together. He's outlived 3 other dogs here, and while he has annoyingly battled for pack position with all of them, he has missed them when they've had to leave. I can see his departure getting closer and closer. I hope he feels like he's had a good life. My Milo. MiloBiloDilo. Milo Milo, you are thrice of everything that's houndie nice. My my, Milo. Milo My Love.

Rue did bring her own floofy coat. But she does look extra cute as an overstuffed wonton.

Should I let Gelsey have the rest of her sweet potato? Will that just reward her bandit ways?

All this talk of banditry reminds me of Full House's Bandita, the beautiful white hound with black circles around her eyes. However, I think she was an exemplary model of canine behavior, with little of the banditry of her name.

We got a little dusting here in the Virginia foothills. "Dusting" is my personal limit of enjoyment.

Inspired by all the recent barking of Black Bandits, yesterday Gelsey tossed out all of her kitchen behavior training to resume the Blonde Bandit crown. Background: About 95% of Gelsey's brain is hotwired to the concept of food. She does not naturally have a lot of impulse control so there has been a lot of work teaching her to leave the kitchen when asked and to wait for permission to hoover up food that has been dropped on the floor. She will eat ANYTHING -- raw kale, coffee beans ... . Yesterday I was putting groceries in the fridge and a sweet potato escaped from its produce bag and rolled under the fridge door and into a corner. Gelsey was not in the kitchen. I did not see any movement, but I did hear kind of a swishing sound. So I called Gelsey and she appeared in the doorway from the living room. I praised her and resumed putting groceries in the fridge before shutting the fridge door to retrieve the sweet potato. Gone. Nada. Disappeared. I did hear a faint gnawing sound, and went into the living room to find Gelsey had already demolished about half the sweet potato. Score for this pack's red fawn version of the

Beautiful name, beautiful hound, beautiful story, beautiful smile.

The nerve! The audacity! That dirty dog! My niece's dachshunds completely took over my hounds' beds on several occasions. My poor babies would come drag-footing up to me with big, sad eyes: "Mommy, make them stop."

Oh, beautiful beautiful Sweeparina. Who is that cutie on Sweep's bed?

Thanks for making us all smile.

This morning I heard all sorts of different squeaky sounds from the living room -- it was Gelsey, trying out her new stuffies. She barks thank you, thank you! The sea life theme is original -- who else gets a holiday seahorse? The treats will be put up on the shelf, ready for future indulgence. And I know I'll enjoy the Charleston coffee and houndie earrings. I've been meaning to tell you that I looked up the meaning of the word galoot, since that's your cute nickname for Roman. It was used as early as the 12th century to mean a sailor or oarsman (sometimes with negative connotations) on a sailing galley, with variations in several languages. Our galoot probably came from the Dutch, which just meant sailor. That seems particularly apt, given your job related to the maritime industry. I have this vision of Roman hiding out on a big vessel from Holland, and then hopping off when he got to Charleston harbor.

Milo barks Thank You! Milo was dubious about the snowman peeps at first -- in his old age, he has become cautious about unfamiliar foods. But when he saw Gelsey gulp down her portion, he dogged up and enjoyed it. He didn't have to investigate the chicken pepperoni -- that went down toot sweet! I am looking forward to having the dogs try out the licking mat (thank goodness it has a spatula to put sticky stuff on it). It has suction cups -- do I put it on the refrigerator? Or can it be easily attached to other surfaces? I've heard that peanut butter is the usual food spread on it, but I bet things like soft cheese and soft sausages like liverwurst would work, too. Any suggestions welcome. Your Christmas card is lovely -- and Mama Mia is so tiny! She looks half Odin's size. And there's a beautiful card for me with something sealed inside it. I look forward to finding out what. My applause for your packing skills. Everything fit so efficiently in that one box, and so beautifully wrapped in tissue paper. Your packaging tape required the equivalent of a samurai sword to get into the package, too. Thanks!

Grievance lists for both dogs are very long, but top problems are: Gelsey: Starvation. She gained only 3 lbs this past year. Milo: Having a sister. Shared: Dogwalker does not have a consistent schedule, so hounds have to be alert at all times to ensure they are not overlooked and left behind. Exhausting! Does that make this grievance a Feat of Strength?

Such shiny black fur. Such pearly teeth (the better to eat you with, my dear). Such control over his ears. Such a furious attack on that sand.