Harriet – Page 26 – red paper boat

Unconditional Love

February 23, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

Gina at Dogma, a pet writer whose blog I very much enjoy, posted yesterday on the subject of unconditional love. While I believe that dogs are capable of experiencing love, and I think that the majority of dogs develop bonds of love easily, I’m not in 100% agreement with her claim that dogs love unconditionally. It seems pretty clear to me that there are strings attached. Surely no one expects a dog whose owner mistreats him to unconditionally love his abuser?

For example: My own dog’s love is intertwined with her ability to trust. She does not trust many people, but those she does, she loves and would walk over hot coals to be with. But break her trust, and the love will disappear, as well. For Harriet, things like fairness and consistency are major components in the trust-love equation. She is bewildered by inconsistent treatment, and reacts by withdrawing and shutting down. She cools toward the person who breaks her trust and it can take a long time to rebuild it. “Fool me once…” she says. There are lots of strings attached to Miss Brown’s love, but that’s okay. Part of the bargain we struck was that I would be the one supplying the unconditional love and light refreshments. She just needs to bring the entertainment.

Pets, Photography

Harriet Brown Gets the Last Word

February 19, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

“Ma’am, please step away from the dog, or the little red ball gets it.”

Pets, Photography

The Red Ball

February 19, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

Harriet is not a keen ball dog. She will reluctantly fetch if told to, but her heart is not in the game. She does, however, harbor a deep affection for her red rubber ball. I got it for her about five years ago, and it was love at first sight. It’s hollow and soft and fun for both chewing and bouncing. Inevitably, she will lose it behind or under a piece of furniture, forgetting about it until it comes to light months later. When it does, the reunion is celebrated with wiggles and kidney beans and all manner of Boxer happiness.

Today was a reunion day. I found her ball under some shelves in the kitchen while I was sweeping. I picked it up and bounced it down the hallway. Harriet, hearing the unmistakeable sound of her ball, woke up from her nap and raced after it. She batted it with her feet and nudged it with her nose. She carried it from room to room, chewing on it, then flung her head from side to side so that it flew away, and chased it. She took breaks, resting on the floor or the couch, with her ball between her feet, waiting and watching intently, lest it sneak away while her attention was elsewhere. She rolled around on her back, ball in her mouth and feet flailing, like a trout on dry land. She shoved it under her blanket, hiding it, then, not being able to stand having it out of her sight a minute longer, dug furiously until it was uncovered.

When the game was over, the ball retired to yet another safe spot under the furniture. In another month or so, it will re-emerge, rested and ready to play.

Pets, Photography

Harriet Brown Fears No Storm

February 17, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

I think it’s generally true that pets pick up emotional cues from their owners. When we’re anxious, our pets can sense it, and will often become anxious, as well. I know a lot of people whose pets are afraid of storms, and the common advice is that they must be afraid of storms, too, and that they should try to calm down in order to calm their pet down. To that, I say: “Ha!”

We had another nasty storm last night, complete with thunder, lightning, hail, and tornado warnings. The wind was ridiculous, howling and whistling and generally doing its damnedest to scare the living hell out of me. If Harriet was negatively influenced by my agitated state, she surely hid it well. Unless, of course, she exhibits her anxiety by lolling around on the couch like a drunken sailor. I’m not sure it would have been possible for her to care less.

Meta, Pets, Photography

Harriet Brown Loves a Good Salad

February 16, 2006January 16, 2016 Shelly

It cracks me up when Harriet sits like this. She reminds me of an old man slouched in a Lazy Boy, watching tv and drinking a beer. She–formerly known as The Dog Who Does Not Drool–had another slinger fest last night while I was eating a salad. I cannot imagine that mere romaine, radicchio, cucumbers, scallions, or tomatoes were responsible for the waterworks. And, I cannot imagine that the lemon juice and kosher salt I dressed it with were, either. It’s official: my dog is a freak. But, she’s a Boxer, so we already knew that.

Is this week over yet? The wind last night was unbelievable. It made the electricity flicker off and on all night, which meant I overslept because my alarm clock lost it’s mind. Yuck. Traffic is bad enough at 5:30am. By 7am, it’s bumper-to-bumper all the way to Bloomington. I ended up going the back way, to avoid the Hwy 46 wind tunnel, but traffic was still heavy.

But! Guess what I heard this morning, as I was getting into my car? Geese. Lots and lots of geese. The wee geesies are returning, so that’s something to be cheerful about. I think.

Oh, and before I forget, if you’re looking for that perfect gift for the man in your life, why not an heirloom quality mink penis cosy? I hear it’s what all the best dressed men will be wearing this Spring. Surely, my sources cannot be wrong.

In the far less bizarre world of template news (because, you know there had to be some) I have tarted up (or should that be dressed down?) the gallery. The lurking shadow man is gone, as is the ass-ugly grid pattern on the top left. The stripey bits are gone, too, and I’ve changed the fonts to mirror the blog font family. About the only things left that bug me are the upper navigation buttons (I’m just not enjoying the rounded, shadowed look) and the lack of a banner image. I may play around with adding an image to the header, but will probably not get too motivated to de-fancify the buttons. That sounds too much like work to me.

Pets, Photography

When Good Pets Go Bad

February 15, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

I have no idea who the guilty party is. The inclusion of one of my socks implicates Pandora (she has a bizarre sock fetish, and will carry them around the house in her mouth), but Harriet was the one I found at the scene of the crime. All I can say is that I can think of about a million things I’d rather do than rewind a ball of hemp twine. That’s one job that’s definitely going at the bottom of my To Do list.

So, today was food co-op delivery day, the time of which coincided beautifully with sunrise. I managed to get quite a few good shots, three of which I stitched together into a panorama. I’m kicking myself for not pulling over when I got to Spencer, though, because as I crested the hill leading down into town, the far eastern ridge line was glowing an astonishing shade of fluorescent orange. (More of this morning’s sunrise photos can be seen here.)

Pets

Why I Love Boxers Reason #487

February 10, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

So, Miss Brown spent some quality time outside this afternoon, digging and generally making a mess of both the (alleged) “yard” and herself. She was spectacularly, grossly, disgustingly dirty. Ugh. So I gave her a bath. After Elliott, who A) loathed being bathed and B) had a long, dense, Chowy coat, the short, single coat of the sporty Boxer model is a finely crafted thing of beauty. Eight minutes it took me, to bathe and towel her off. Now she’s resting happily on the couch, giving herself a “cat bath” to remove the remaining moisture.

The best part is that, while she hates getting wet, she’s a total peach about being bathed. She doesn’t exactly like it, but she doesn’t object to it.

Oh, and have I mentioned how much I appreciate our local license branch? I had to renew my driver’s license and the registration on my car. I was in and out in 15 minutes.

Crankypantsing, Pets, Photography

Harriet Brown is a Sleepy Goose

February 9, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

I love it when Harriet tucks her nose under her “wing.” She makes such a compact bundle. I would’ve wrapped her up in her binkey, because she was obviously a little chilled, but she was lying on it and I didn’t want to disturb her.

So, I stopped on the way home to get gas (only US$2.25/gallon!), and had an odd encounter. First, I nearly got creamed by some asstrumpet in a Camaro who cut through the Bigfoot lot to avoid the traffic waiting in line to turn onto the main road. Can we say rude and illegal? Yep, I thought we could.

Then, when I tried to use my card at the pump, I got a message that blinked “Panic Code 013.” WTF?! I went inside to inform the young man at the counter that his, um, equipment was taking A Tone with me. His response? “I wonder just how panicked we should be?” Smartass! I ended up pulling around to another pump, which worked fine. As I was leaving, I saw that another car had pulled up to the Cranky Pump and that there was an enormous pool of gas all over the pavement. Yikes! I didn’t hear any explosions as I drove off, so I assume all’s well that ends well.

Pets, Photography

Silly Saturday Dogblogging

January 21, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

For some reason, Harriet has a thing about oatmeal. It’s one of only a few foods she’ll actually lose her brain over. Because I’m a big meanypants, I teased her with my flying oatmeal spoon while I got pictures of her brain implodiating. She’s a ridiculously funny dog, but she has very little sense of humor about some things. Like food. I suspect that it’s a Very Good Thing that I’m the one with the opposable thumbs and not her, because she does not look amused. But, not to worry, she was handsomely rewarded for being a good sport.

Pets, Photography

Frosty Dog

January 15, 2006November 15, 2015 Shelly

We had a nice, hard frost last night. It’s been warm and wet and yucky, so this was a very welcome change. It seems as if the local critter population appreciated it, too. The birds were extra boisterous this morning, and there seems to have been a higher than normal amount of bunny traffic in Harriet’s yard (cuz, it is all hers, dontchaknow?).

I got some pictures of her patrolling the perimeter, nose-to-the-ground, tracking rabbity interlopers. Every so often, she’d pause, stuff her face in a pile of leaves, huff and snort, then move along to the next spot.

I also got a couple of what I think are good “stacked” (ha!) photos, taken from the rear side, one with her head facing away, and one with it turned back toward me. I nearly missed the second one, because she saw or heard something interesting and was off like a bolt of lightning.

I’ve been finding that it’s difficult to get outdoor photos of her, because whenever I’m outside with her, her attention is focused on me. It was much easier when there were two dogs, because she was more apt to ignore me in favor of more entertaining companionship.

I also got some photos of the frosty grass and frost crystals on one of the young black walnut trees. Since I was up way past my bedtime last night, finishing up all the image issues left over from the migration from Blogger, I was lucky that I woke up before the frost had melted away. I had just enough time to get a few photos before it started to disappear.