Jager's first Birthday!!

Jager turned 1 today.  We made him a "cake" of hamburger and "frosted" it with mashed potatoes! 

Here he is in the kitchen just wondering what in the world all the fuss is about. 

 OH!  Cruel... we are making him just wait.  (Notice Roscoe in the back by the door.  He appears to be sulking but I think he just has to go potty....  He was not too thrilled with the festivities for Jager!

 Just like a 1 year old!  He can't keep his food on the plate.  He liked all the "frosting" off first, then enjoyed the main course! 

All in all, a wonderful New Year's Eve and a very happy birthday!  What a good boy!

Jager's First Birthday is Coming

Jager turns ONE next Friday.  December 31st is his birthday.  He is a beautiful boy and has even tried hunting a couple of times.  Didn't do bad, but he has some paws to fill. My husband still misses Beau and his amazing talent.  We hope Jager will live up to his bloodline and produce results.

I, on the other hand, adore him as is.  I know he's supposed to be a working dog. I know he belongs to my husband.  BUT.... He's so darn sweet.  He is big, beautiful, and so well behaved.  The basset boys could learn many lessons from his obedience.  He lives to please (and eat).  The bassets live to eat, sleep, and play but on their terms, when and how they want. 

We will be having a birthday party for Jager, complete with "cake" (doggie-version) and singing.  If I can stop being lazy, I'll even try to post some new pictures. 

Safety in the Cold Weather

The temperatures have dropped to single digits. Need to keep those pets inside or well insulated if they have to be outside.  Be sure they have plenty of water (needs to be heated if outdoors) for good hydration.  This is serious in cold temperatures.  Also, a warm, insulated place to get out of the wind and weather.  A dog's ears can quickly become frost-bitten and they can suffer hypothermia just like humans. 

Jager is ok with the weather.  He runs out like it's nothing to be in 6degrees.  Rosco on the other hand feels the arctic blast when the door opens and he looks at me with a face that says, "No Thanks.  I'll just "go" in here today."  At which time he receives the stern look with a stern "GO".  He can moves so unbelievably slow when he wants to.  Coop does what he needs to do, and doesn't complain too much.

So take care of your kitties and dogs!  They need special attention in these c-c-c-old times.  Stay Warm!

Dog-Person or Cat-Person?

A friend of my husband's came over the other day to help him with a small project and his wife came along.  I had been sick all day, so wasn't much company as I lounged on the couch in my sweats (it was the best I could manage since I didn't want to be seen in my PJ's at 4 in the afternoon).  I noticed when our boys greeted her she didn't pet them or seemed too thrilled.  I (being so amazingly astute) quickly deduced, "not a dog-person". 

If I had gone into a home, even of people I didn't really know, and they had 3 dogs circling me and vying for my attention, I would have dropped to the floor and hugged them all at once!  A "dog-person" gets this. I have discussed this with my friends, they agree: Non-dog-persons are a little, shall we say, odd?  I mean, who could not LOVE something that greets you every day with a face saying "I love you, I love you, I love you!  I am so happy to see you!  I want to be with you! I want to play and snuggle and kiss you!"  Seriously?  Isn't that what everyone wants?  (Yeah, OK, maybe not the "kiss" part.  I am not overly partial to dog kisses.  I know what other things they think are "kissable" and I don't particularly need them to share that with me)  BUT, I do know that when I come home and get surrounded by barks, bays, yips, and a general grappling for MY attention, I have been missed, and I am loved! 

Roscoe acts as though I were his most beloved, lost in the Sahara Desert with no water, no food, and miraculously returned to him each and every day.  He is so excited to see me I think, if he could, he would cry upon my arrival.  The baying gets higher pitched and the dancing more aggressive the longer it takes me to set down my purse and say, "hello!"  I think Cooper and Jager just see it as yet another competition.  They love to knock Ross out of the running by pushing him aside. (No small trick even though he has lost a few pounds)  With only 2 hands, I have to pet one with my forearms as I pet the other two with my hands.  Seems they know the difference and are constantly "stealing" my hands. (This is when you are petting one and the other comes and nudges your hand with his nose until your hand is on HIS head instead).  They are quite adept at this maneuver and I am in awe of the way they all three can do it so effectively.  I once saw Roscoe place his head under my sleeping husband's hand.  He then moved his head side to side and effectively received a pat on the head.  They are clever.

So, really, if you don't want or enjoy this kind of adoration you just are not a dog-person.  (I believe they call you a "cat-person"!)  Don't get your nose bent out of shape.  I love my cat, too.  In fact, years ago, I may have been considered a cat-person by people who didn't know me that well.  I'm pretty reserved as a rule and like my quiet time.  I am not always thrilled at getting slimed by the affectionate drooling of overly eager dog-lips.  My cat, Rizzo, on the other hand.... DEFINITELY A CAT-PERSON!  He is not in the least bit amused by the dogs, their barks, drool, rough-housing, or their interest in him. 

Four 6-packs of Dachshunds

The Idaho Humane Society recently came into possession of 24 dachshund puppies from an Oregon puppy mill.  Thankfully, the owner called and surrendered the puppies because she could no longer care for them. They were malnourished with miscellaneous other problems, but were soon ready for adoption.  As I viewed the numerous pictures of the cute things (a huge variety of long/short hair of different colors), I actually entertained the idea....
ARE YOU CRAZY????   Let me set the record straight here.  THREE DOGS ARE PLENTY. 

I love my boys.  But, wow! I could not even imagine adding just one more (albeit, small) animal to the pack.  That's what it is after two, you know?  They are a pack.  Already, when I arrive home, I am mobbed unbelievably.  Literally, before I set my purse and other belongings down, I have been surrounded by the "pack", bayed at, barked at, sniffed, licked, and bounced at.  I try to pet all three at once.  You know, by patting two heads while rubbing another with your forearm.... They will have none of it.  It's all or nothing and they jockey for position by wedging themselves between you and the others (Jager actually steps on Cooper and Roscoe since he's tall enough to do it).  It's like feeding time at the piranha tank!

So, I was thrilled to learn on the news last night that all 24 wiener dogs have found homes.  There are still so many inmates at the shelter, I hope people who wanted one of the rescue dogs will take the time to look at those who remain, those whose time has not been as short.  I see the faces there and it makes me so sad.  If only I could... what's one more?  A BIGGER PACK!.... STOP!  There is only so much one can do and I DO NOT want to be a pet hoarder..."the crazy dog lady"on the street.  If you have space in your home, check out your local shelter and see what you could do to share your home with one of these sweet dogs.  (Or cats) Winter is coming and I fear there will be more.

Paws in the Planters

The other night, Cooper got stuck in the planter on the deck.  Mind you, this planter is 2+feet above the deck and goes all the way around it.  Cooper is only about 15inches tall.  He's not much of a jumper like Roscoe (looking at them you would expect the opposite), he tends to crawl so I am not sure how exactly he got himself up there.  The other problem Coop has is that he's rather afraid to jump down off of anything! 

All 3 boys went out for their pre-bedtime potty break.  When it was time to come in, Coop was not with the others.  I hollered; he did not come.  Our yard (or what we call a yard... there is no longer any grass to speak of) is fenced around 3 sides. I attempted to fence off a portion for my garden but.... well... another post will explain that.  I figured he would come to the door shortly and left him be.  After about 10 minutes, I called again with no answer.  I listened... a quiet thumping or vibration on the deck.  My first thought was, "Is that fool under the deck??"  Then I heard the whine.  I stepped to the side of the table/umbrella and then saw the white on the tip of his tail.  IN the planter.  He just stood there, looking at me, whining.  I called; he wagged more aggressively and grumbled a bit.  He didn't move.  I called again.... he didn't move. 
     "Fine," I said to him, "you can stay out here."  I went back inside.  (It's November in Boise... not really "balmy" at 10:30pm, although pretty mild this year)  About 20 minutes went by when my son, the recluse, came out and wondered where Coop was.
     "Out in the planter," I told him.  He went out to look.  Sure enough, Cooper was still standing in the planter, wagging and whining.
     "Can I get him out?" he asked.
     "Do what you want," I answered,  "I'm not getting him.  He got himself in there, he needs to get himself out."  He proceeded to go out and coax the silly animal into backing out to the edge, but when his foot met with nothing but air behind him, he ran forward again.  This time, however, he was smart enough to figure out a place at the corner of the deck to turn around and run out front first.  Although frightened, he slithered down without any assistance and trotted into the house feeling quite proud of himself.  He hasn't done it again although it's only been a week. 
     Let me say this, however; He never did this until Jager joined the crew.  About July this last year, when my flowers were in full bloom and looking lovely (remember? I don't have a back yard with grass so my planters filled with flowers each spring/summer were such a treat for me), I found a large HOLE dug out of the middle of one planter.  I knew it had to be Jager... (We call him the "Black Menace").  Who else could get up there??  The Basset boys had never bothered them and had been around for years.  Then one day I caught him...The Black Menace....standing up in my planters and digging furiously.  Plants, flower petals, and dirt flying everywhere.  I was LESS than impressed.  After that I frequently caught both him and Coop in there.  One day, all 3 were standing end to end (it's not any wider than a basset hound belly) the entire length of one side! 
     I do not know what I am going to do for flowers next year.  They even knocked off 2 of my large pottery planters and broke them too.  I remember my mom saying, "As long as I have children, I will never have any nice things." She didnt' get dogs.... she got nice things, eventually.  Sigh.... Oh well.  I have nice dogs!

Meet the Boys!

Thought I should have a separate place to document the lives of our 3 boys... not the human ones, they are grown and moved out (ok, almost... one is lingering here thru his senior year. We see him occasionally).  I'm talking about documenting the adventures of Roscoe, Cooper, and Jager. Let me give you a brief bio of each:

Roscoe:  Affectionately known to us as "Ross", he is brown and white (spotted like a heifer cow) and about 70lbs right now.  He loves to "talk" and has a sweet voice with which to sing.  He came to live with us after our beloved Penny died in 2005.  (Penny was our 14 yr-old Dalmatian)  I had looked for months to determine what type of dog I wanted.  My husband had his hunting dog (black lab, Beau), and I needed a dog who would get along with him as well as everyone in the family.  SO, after much research, the basset hound sounded like a nice fit. I found Roscoe in the paper.  A 6 month old basset needing a home.  His first family adopted him from a breeder as a small puppy but found that they just didn't have the time to devote to him along with their German Shepard so they decided to find him a new home.  We fell in love the moment we saw him run down the sidewalk, tripping over his ears, towards us and took him home that night.  At the vet's the next day we discovered something we were not told of.... FLEAS.  For the next 6 months we battled the fleas from hell (designated such by our vet who had NEVER seen such resilient parasites).  After dips, baths, sprays, bombs, crystals, more baths, more dips, more sprays... we got rid of them.  Of course all the other animals previously living in the home had to be treated as well.  Beau, Rizzo the cat, and Snow the white rat.  Ever flea dip a rat?  That's another story....

Cooper:  In 2008, we began getting 'puppy fever' once again.  I don't know why.... Roscoe took us the better part of the year to potty train.  Seems one of a basset hounds "qualities" is being potty-resistant. (This is what my pediatrician said about one of my sons at age 3 when he refused to potty on the toilet- I use the term because it fits with bassets).  I found Cooper in the paper as a 7wk old not to far from where I work.  Seems the owners thought "dad" basset was too old to breed with "mom".... Seems they were wrong.  There were 6 of them.  My son and his wife adopted one as well, his name is Ferris. (My grand-dog) Cooper was also rather potty resistant but after 8-9 months, he was doing well.  He's very different in temperament as well as looks and build.  He is tri-color and has such soft, silky fur.  He is also a much daintier eater and even disregards a meal if he's not in the mood... very UN-basset like.  He is long and lean and weighs about 45lbs.  His bay and bark is deep and loud.  We like to call him, "Coop-a-loop" and he seems to accept the nickname with a sort of pride.

Jager:  Officially, his name is "Jagermeister" (Master Hunter,) after the drink.  He is a black, English Labrador with a lovely pedigree.  He was born on Dec. 31, 2009 and we had waited for months for his conception and arrival.  We chose him after we lost Beau in August (He was 13 or 14, we were not sure, and such an amazing hunter), and he came to live with us at the end of February.  He has grown into a sweet, soft-hearted, loving boy.  He and Coop love to wrestle and play and antagonize poor Ross. Oh, and he's a great retriever as well!  (Thank goodness, because if he didn't hunt my husband threatened to sell him on Craig's List and I would have been devastated!)  J.K.... If he didn't hunt he would have been my most expensive house-dog-pet EVER.

Those are the boys... You'll see pictures from time to time and hopefully hear fun stories of their misadventures over the years!  Ta Ta!