All posts in category Dog for our home ….

Crushing on Dexter …..

We all know I am obsessed with Dexter.  Our dog.

He is named for the character Dexter Morgan, in the series “Dexter!”

1305_Dextter01

I am seriously one Xanax away from starting a Dexter Blog.

I am nervous about starting one, because I think when you start writing a blog from a dog’s perspective, and whose highest point of his day is to lick his balls, and biting Annabelle’s nose.

There is a good chance that the blog is going to be a bit more labour, and a lot less love.

I purchased Dexter through Caroline van Deventer, who is a breeder and lives up country.

I had done a fair amount of research on the breed at the point of approaching a breeder, and had seen them at shows, and spoken to a few Boston Terrier people.  I prefer to get my dogs via breeders, as I usually have aspirations of dog showing.

I am not knocking anyone or making judgement or suggesting you change the way you acquire a dog for your home.  If you feel strongly about people getting their dogs through shelters and so on, really that is fine.  My choice is just a bit different.

And here is the key.  It is my choice!

I chatted telephonically and via email to Caroline, and at the end of the day I had to trust her decision.

I had just gone through a 2 – 3 month process with another breeder, that in the end resulted in me cancelling the puppy, and walking away from the arrangement, so I did start this process thinking “well, this may not go well.”

Caroline was professional thorough and like a good breeder was a good resource for advise and suggestions on Boston Terriers.  Dexter was sent to us in a crate and we collected him at the airport in January 2012.

Dexter had managed to shit the crate full — like spray painted the walls in faeces.  I did think this was rather fitting considering his name, and considering Dexter Morgan also started off in a cargo crate sprayed with bl0od.

I posted a picture recently and showing progress on my “dog training” with Dexter through Cape Province Dog Training.

What you can’t see is the other dogs and distractions happening off to the side.

Dexter was following a “stay-sit-stay” command, and I was showing off a bit by dropping his lead.

I am meant to step away from him, and he is meant to remain in the sitting position for a full minute, until I return to his right hand side and release him from it.

Four weeks ago, I would not have believed there was a hope in hell of this ever happening.  So I can’t quite hide my excitement when “dog training” actually appeared to be working, and for a short moment in time, I realise I was in deed the pack leader.

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Dexter is a fine looking lad, and even by Boston Terrier standards he is quite a hottie!

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Caroline posted this picture of Dexter when he was a wee puppy —-

dexter 01

How freaking cute is that??

4 Comments
by reluctantmom on May 17, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by reluctantmom on May 17, 2013

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2013/05/17/crushing-on-dexter/

Boston Terriers … t-shirts that rock!

This is probably my fav0urite t-shirt in my cupboard.  I purchased it from Shannon McGovern who runs a Boston Terrier Rescuing and Re-Homing Scheme via Facebook.

I don’t wear t-shirts.  But I LOVE this t-shirt – I could wear it every day, to anything.

Kennith is heading to the States soon.   I have instructed asked him to put anything Boston Terrier into his suitcase for me.  I am just assuming there will be Boston Terrier stuff lying around in every shop.  Because it is the United States.  That is where Boston is.

Well, I sort of hope.

I do love all things Boston Terrier.  If you ever come across anything Boston Terrier related that costs just a bit less than a kidney on the black market, do let me know — or add it to my Xmas Stocking!

BostonTerrier_shirt

2 Comments
by reluctantmom on April 13, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by reluctantmom on April 13, 2013

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2013/04/13/boston-terriers-t-shirts-that-rock/

Dog Shows and Boston Terriers

I have Dexter who is a Boston Terrier.

I have been a Staffordshire Bull Terrier person for years, but two or three years ago, I thought I just need “less dog.”

I love Staffordshire Bull Terriers, but they get into your car and they become the car.  They do not so much get on the bed, as take over the bed.  For my household, it just became less than ideal with three kids and a dog, I needed a breed that was easier for my life style.

Staffies are not known for their ability to blend in with other dogs, and this is really problematic as we often head to Sandbaai and my mom has three dogs, which means I always have to leave my dog at home.

Any the who, I adore French Bulldogs and Boston Terriers.

I contacted a breeder about a Boston Terrier (actually I contacted several).  We hooked up and she had a litter (her bitch clearly, not her personally) and discussed Dexter with me (Carogan Ive Gotta Feelin).

I received him in January 2012, and he is gorgeous.  Dexter has been great, he is such a character, and really easy to throw into the car and take him pretty much anywhere.

I also love dog shows.  No really I do.  It is just one of those things I really love. I love ring stewarding, I love watching dog shows, I love having a dog taking part.

The idea of getting Dexter, was so that there was potential to show him.  I started showing him recently and so far he has done really well – he has been shown in the Puppy class and I have been really proud of him.  He does unfortunately think he is Cujo at a certain point of the show, which is not ideal, and is pretty much when everything goes pear-shaped …. fast.

I took him along to the West Coast Kennel Club Qualifying Show on Sunday, 4 November.  The idea was to leave the kids at home, and me head to the show with Dexter.  Isabelle saw me trying to leave and there was no way she was going to let me go anywhere.

I had to take her along to the dog show – Kennith is on a business trip to China/visiting is his other family.  Taking a young child to a dog show by yourself is sort of an okay idea in principle, but not a not great idea in application.

I walk in to the show ring, and Isabelle is running behind me screaming MOMMY with tears running down her face.  I could not calm her or get her out of the ring, so I just continued to show Dexter with a child SCREAMING running behind me.

Dog shows are meant to be really serious affairs, and one shows one’s job with a certain measure of seriousness.  One wants to win after all.

There I am walking around the ring with my dog, whilst my three-year old is running behind me screaming.  We did a triangle, and Isabelle ran behind SCREAMING doing a triangle as well.

Other than that, Dexter won Best Puppy and Best of Breed for his Breed. Of course he bombed out in the Group Competitions — he is just not a group competition kinda guy.

3 Comments
by reluctantmom on November 10, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by reluctantmom on November 10, 2012

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2012/11/10/dog-shows-and-boston-terriers/

My dog bit my child …

Dexter is a really lovely dog.  He has such a goofy expression that you cannot but love him.

That being said he has one or two serious behavioural issues.

1.  He sprinkles his urine for no apparent reason.

He could be outside for 72 days, you let him in, and 5 minutes later he will take a piss.  It has if he has been holding it in so he can put urine in your home.  He never pees on a surface that is easy to clean, he will pee on the corner of your pot drawer, your curtains or on your shoe.

2.  He takes a crap in the most bizarre places.

Again adding he has unhindered access to the great outdoors.  He will be outside for ever, walk right in and take a crap.  Never on an easy to clean surface, but right in the centre or your prized zebra skin, or in this week’s case, right in the centre of Isabelle’s bed!!  Crap and a giant piss!

3.  He is brilliant with the kids, but will growl at them now and then – when he is eating something he thinks they might want, or when he is sleeping and has a really good spot.

We teach our dogs from the time they arrive in our house that humans (even small humans) are permitted to touch them and take food out of their mouths. Dexter is find 85% of the time, but then for the remainder he growls and his hackles go up.

I am not one of those people who refer to my dogs as my children.  I used to, and then I had children.

I now understand that clear line between the two. One you can lock in the kitchen when they irritate you, the other you can’t.

So I treat dogs as dogs, I understand the pack mentality, I understand that they behave a certain way, and I can get all Caesar Milan on your arse.  Really got it.

Dexter has become my kryptonite.  I understand what he is doing is wrong, but I am absolutely powerless to stop him, because I do not understand why he does it, and also does things in a non-consistent way.

I buy the dogs a hoof each to chew.  Annabelle (our Staffordshire Bull Terrier is 12) – I decide okay let me put her outside with the hoof, as she will eat Dexter if he comes near her whilst she is chewing it.

I put her outside – also because she is standing at the backdoor asking to go out.

I leave Dexter inside and he climbs into the dog basket, happily chewing the hoof. First time he has had a hoof, so it took him a few moments to grasp the point of eating a bovine’s discarded foot!

Dexter in box.  Isabelle (note the dog and child have similar names …. long story) anyway Isabelle sees Dexter and walks over to him to give him a hug.  Dexter thinks Isabelle is after the hoof and takes a bite of her arm.

It nearly broke the skin, and I was amazed by the bite pattern.  Dexter is a Boston Terrier, so their bite is totally ridiculous.

But back to me and said SCREAMING CHILD.  Isabelle is screaming like someone stole her Nuttella sandwich.  I look at Dexter and the communication between my eyes and his brain was: “You little shit, I am going to kill you!!”

I did not kill him, though for a moment (if you add the crap on the bed to the week’s mix) I was seriously considering giving him away on gumtree.

I really really think if he has bitten her in the face, this conversation would be different.

I really love my dog, but cheese and rice I love my kids a lot more.  I really have a lot of work to do with Dexter, but I can promise you if he ever bites my child again, I am so going to gumtree his arse!

Dexter if you are reading this – and I know you log on with my password, take this as your FINAL WARNING mate!  You are very cute, but you will still be cute stuffed with sawdust on my TV cupboard.  You my friend are on probation!!

6 Comments
by reluctantmom on July 6, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by reluctantmom on July 6, 2012

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2012/07/06/my-dog-bit-my-child/

It appears I can train three children, but not this dog …

Dexter is seriously doing my head in.

When he arrived he spray-sh&t everywhere.  I felt really sorry for him, as no one likes a splatter bum, so I took him to the vet, and changed his food and tried not to get upset when he kept sh&tting on everything.

But now his tummy is fine – but the bugger keeps crapping inside.

He can be outside for 4 hours, I open the door, he says hello, and once he gets past the bum-wagging (he does not have a tail) he finds a textured spot to go and take a crap on.

Our entire house is tiled or laminated flooring – but Dexter does not poo on the easy-to-clean smooth surface, he constantly puts his crap on the carpets or the skins on the floor.

I am nearly at my wits end with him.  I so want him to be an inside dog, who can lie around, smoke a cigar, make coffee, and when he needs, go out the gate and take a dump in the garden. I dream of that day.

But instead I have take-a-dump-Dexter crapping on everything when ever he is inside.

I think I would be far more impatient with him, if he was not so goddamn cute.  With that face and those googly eyes I can nearly forgive anything.  Nearly.

9 Comments
by reluctantmom on February 13, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by reluctantmom on February 13, 2012

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2012/02/13/it-appears-i-can-train-three-children-but-not-this-dog/

Run away. Run away. Come back. Come back Annabelle.

I like my daily dose of normal.  My daily dose may appear chaotic and crazy to others, but is my normal, and the result is that my mind can tick off the “normal” every day.

If there is a shift or you take away a key element, or add something extra, I am likely to have a little spin out.  And this is the reason I make lists.  I always have a list, and I like to tick my things off my list, as then it makes me feel “in control” and that I have got it all buttoned down.

This morning I am driving to work.  Traffic is shocking.  My phone goes off, I hear it ring, but cannot attend to it and navigate an interchange.

I hear my phone beep a phone message.

I smile.  I love people who sms me a message, rather than leave a long fangled phone message.  I do like sms people.

I am in traffic, and in neutral. ,I dig my phone out.  It is an sms from a vet in Bergvliet saying “Hi we have your dog.  Thanks Carol St Francis Vet Clinic 021 712 0357.”

Hmm, I am thinking Carol is tucking into the tipple a bit early this morning.

I just left home.  My dog was there, and Bergvliet is several miles from Parow, even for a fast dog that might be bending the time/space thing a bit.

I call Carol – Carol tells me she has my staffie.  My brain is trying to compute.  I try to explain to her I do not have a Staffie.  She re-explaining to me that actually I do have a Staffie and she is at their vet.

I am starting to speak to Carol like she is a special needs person, and I am really to busy for these rather bizarre phone calls.

So she goes “I am sure microchips don’t lie.  We have your dog Annabelle, it is a red and white Staffie….”

Annabelle went missing about a year and a half ago.  I ran ads, I contacted vets, I put notes on Facebook, I cried, I worried, I felt terrible.  I healed.

I am floored. Once my brain started working, I decided to re-aim my vehicle towards Bergliet, and sure as sh*t there was Annabelle.

Older, fatter, but still Annabelle.

She looked at me like I had just come back from the shops, after buying some wine.  She was not going to tell me where she had been for the last year and a half, and instead decided to pant and leave saliva all over my car’s front seat.

Anything can be forgiven the day you get back from the dead.

I brought Annabelle home and explain that I had moved on.  I had mourned her death, I had got a new puppy.   Dexter looked at her and his hackles have risen, there appears to be an usurper in his midsts.

As my friend Joyce says, it is the dog version of the Bold and the Beautiful, where the dead husband returns to find his wife has now remarried … and has a new family … because in the Bold and the Beautiful, dead husbands and dead dogs always come back.

Moral of the story: Microchip your dog/cat.  That shit works.

7 Comments
by reluctantmom on January 23, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by reluctantmom on January 23, 2012

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2012/01/23/run-away-run-away-come-back-come-back-annabelle/

The one where the puppy shit was a problem …

Pepe is our maid.   She has been with us for more than 4 years and she is what keeps me remotely sane for the bulk of the year.  There are a few months where even Pepe can’t help me, but that is another story.

I regularly preach the gospel of “Hire a full time, sleep in maid, if you have a child …. really do, it will save you hours at paeds and somehow life will have more meaning.  Really!!  Really.”

I have waking nightmares that she might leave me, and I regularly look at her with a twinkle in my eye because I love her so very much.

I really depend on her for all things that are good in the world.  If it was not for Pepe I might have shot someone or myself, long, long time ago.  She is my sanity, or at least the thin thread that keeps me tethered to it.

Dexter is our new dog.  Dexter is 8 weeks old.  Dexter has the shits.  Dexter has not learnt to poo outside.  Dexter is still learning.

Pepe appears not to like Dexter. Pepe refuses to clean up after Dexter.

Dexter poo, because that is what puppies do.  It is not a Dr Seuss poem it is just the way it is.

Our entire house has tiles or laminated wood, so there is no carpet – cleaning the floor is not exactly challenging.  Pepe has decided to leave it – the poo – until I get home.  From work.  At 6pm.  To runny, on it’s way to be dried shit.  Which I know has been there since early morning.

This has been going on all week, and I am a bit at my wits end.

Pepe’s job is to look after the kids, and to look after the house.  What ever that entails.  But she has decided that Dexter is not “her job” and anything he does is left until I get home.

Seriously?  Yes, seriously.

Contrary to popular belief I hate confrontation and will avoid it at all costs.

Mr CBT gave me a handout after our Monday session on the difference between non-assertiveness (basically avoidance) vs assertiveness vs aggression.  I think if your doctor starts photocopying notes from his doctor book then it is time to maybe start focussing your attention on an issue.

I know I avoid confrontation, and the problem is that it leads to anger and frustration, because I feel like I am standing mute in the corner.  I see the thing or the issue that drives me crazy, but I just cannot speak out.

All the right words are in my head.  But I look down, purse my lips and say “okay” when actually I mean “NO, NO, NO, hear me…” but I don’t say anything, and this clearly compounds the fact that “you” cannot hear me.

I explained my pepe-versus-dexter dilemma to Kennith last night.  Kennith is a take charge guy, like Captain Underpants, but with a slightly larger belt buckle and less shiny underpants.

Kennith spoke to Pepe and asked her if everything was alright, and if there were any issues.  She said no.  He then asked her what is the issue about cleaning up after Dexter.  She said it was not her job.  Not her job.

I sipped wine in the tv room, and turned the sound of “Ridiculous Large Cake Bake Off” <<or what ever it is called>> up louder so I could act I was not listening to any of this.  I just wanted it to be all unicorns and rainbows and not puppy shit and unhappy nanny-who-keeps-me-sane-who-I-am-terrified-will-leave-me.  Can you say co-dependence?

Kennith chatted to Pepe. I thought great that issue is resolved.

I woke up this morning with a spring in my step, and an almost smile on my dial.  I spoke to her this morning with a certain chipper, high-pitched tone in my voice.

I went to work.  Pepe sms’d me: “Don’t forget to buy milk and your dog has poo’d in the bathroom.”

I thought cool, I will buy milk, and thanks for the poo update.  Strange, but okay …..

I get home from work today.  Go in to the bathroom, and there is the poo that Dexter made this morning still there.  I am like WTF!  I go outside and the poo’s he has made on the paving outside the door is just lying there.

I clean up the poo and wash down the paving.  I purse my lips.  And then I get angry.  And then I realise I actually can no longer stand in the corner with my mouth closed.

I go and pull an old job description out.  When Pepe joined us we had two dogs.  Part of the description was to take them for walks, and all sorts of other things including cleaning up the yard after them, as I did not want flies-on-poo near my children, or near me for that matter.

I have no issue cleaning up my dogs poo - I have an issue cleaning up your dogs poo.  But I do not want flies on poo then on my kids, so if there is poo in the yard, clean it up before it becomes a health hazard.  Simple enough.

Dog poo’s, you see it, you clean it up.

But right now Pepe refuses to clean up after Dexter.  It is not her job.  So I get home from work, and then I face old dog poo, which has been there all day.  So now a rather simple issue, has become AN ISSUE.

Today I decided that this is now an issue that I can not look past.   Possibly because I rushed in, dying to go to the toilet, I was trying to, Isabelle was opening the door, I was looking at the mound of shit in the bathroom that had been there since the morning, Connor was hanging through the window and talking to me … and I just kept thinking “Can I not make a shit in peace …. is that really to much to ask??”

I pulled out an old job description, explained that actually it is “her job” and really there is dog walking and all sorts of other things that she no longer does, but that is not the issue.  I need her to do this, and why is she getting her back up against this.  It is one dog.

Today I just need her to clean up after Dexter.   She can leave him outside all day, really that is fine, but if he happens to stumble inside, then seriously clean it up – why leave it on the floor until I get home?  If there is a point then I am seriously missing it.

On Tuesday Isabelle starts school,  so from Tuesday there will be no kids at home.  Taking care of a puppy seems like a fair swap for three kids, or am I missing something?

Pepe got thin lipped and looked at me with disdain.  I began to gesture and repeat myself.  I tried to remain calm and remember that if I go hummmmmmm and put my fingers in a circle shape on my crossed knees it will be okay ……. I really tried … gawd knows I tried …….. I failed, but I tried.

I decided to make the final point: “Here is the old job description, go over it and see that your job does include cleaning up after two large Staffordshire Bull Terriers, who are no longer here, now I have one puppy.  This is part of your job.  Read it.  If I come home tomorrow and this problem persists, I will issue you with a verbal warning and then we can go from there.  I don’t want to.  This is such a stupid issue to sour our relationship after all these years, but I am not going to do this any more.  Go and think about it.  Talk to me if you need to, but tomorrow evening if I get home and walk in to this again, I will give you a verbal warning….. and that is the end of it”

I think I might have repeated the same phrase about 12 times.    I was nervous, and confrontation really makes me uneasy and bumble like the village idiot.

She glazed over at one point.  I slid the job description over, and did my best to give her a look of firm resolution – rather than whimpering fear that I felt.  I suggested she read through it and if there is an issue raise it with me in the morning.

Fk, I really do not want to lose Pepe over a stupid dog.  But seriously, I need to get out of the corner, stop covering my mouth and say what I need.

<<Please bear in mind that I am trying my utmost to restrain myself and not sms Pepe and tell her I am so sorry, and please will she accept a kidney she can sell, and I will pay her triple, and hire someone to come in and pick up the doggy poo, and I will rub her back with body butter, and I will plait her hair, and please, please, please for gawd sake do not leave me ….. or something to that effect ….>>

10 Comments
by reluctantmom on January 13, 2012  •  Permalink
Posted in Dog for our home ...., Family Stuff & Things
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Posted by reluctantmom on January 13, 2012

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2012/01/13/the-one-where-the-puppy-shit-was-a-problem/

Introducing Dexter ……

I have been on a “get a dog mission” for several months.  I uh’med, I aa’hed, I rethought it.  I drew up a list.

I have been chatting to a breeder in Pretoria for a little bit about a litter she has, and about getting a male from her.  I like dog shows and my thinking was to look at a dog that I could start showing again.

We have had Staffordshire Bull Terriers for years, and I truly adore the breed.  Since we lost Annabelle, I really have not quite felt like getting another Staffordshire Bull Terrier.  I kept waiting and thinking “okay I will feel like a SBT soon…”

Part of it was, I think, that Annabelle was a real handful, and I think helped to jade me somewhat to the breed.  We have had several SBT and some were gentle giants, but then we had Annabelle.  Annabelle was like Robbie Williams on TIK in a small room, with no access to money and a dealer waiting to be paid …..all of the time.

I do feel a bit “embarrassed” about changing my breed, as I have been a staunch SBT supporter for years.

On Friday Kennith and I went along to SAA Cargo and collected Dexter.

Dexter is a Boston Terrier, and his eyes are so big I think he has 300 degree vision without having to move his head. He is only 8 weeks old, so he has not quite mastered the many facets of life and his funny legs at the moment – his ears sort of shoot off in different directions and pick up the landing signals from Cape Town International Airport.

Poor guy had a runny tummy in his crate, and what met us was not the that milky sweet smell of a puppy, but rather a rather forlorn looking puppy covered in his own faeces.

Since then, there has been a fair supply of faeces and urine.  Not always deposited in the garden.  Saturday afternoon I seemed to get some in my hair, which was somewhat disturbing, but the thing with faeces (and baby puke) in your hair, is a good shampoo and a really strong body scrub and you feel much better.

Dexter has managed to poo spray the entire house and Pepe is about at the end of her tether with him.

Thank goodness he arrived with a bit of a gutsy temperament.  I was concerned he would be sitting in the corner and shaking when he was faced with our family – but he seemed to take it in his stride.

This morning I went to say hello to him, and I was really chuffed he had poo’d on the paper.  Dexter was also really excited, and wagged his bum so much he fell over into the runny poo, and the more I tried to move him away from it the more he stepped into the runny poo.  The final moment was when I pushed him out of the runny poo, and he jumped up against my white towels.

Meet Dexter.  Affectionately referred to as Mr Stinky Pants.

We have very strict rules about dogs NOT sleeping on beds ….

4 Comments
by reluctantmom on January 12, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by reluctantmom on January 12, 2012

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2012/01/12/introducting-dexter/

The dog that got away ….

Dogs, kids, paintings, lavender – all falls into a similiar category for me “Project!”

Once I decide on a course of action, I make a list, tick off what needs to be done, and it is on like Donkey Kong!

I started the year not wanting a dog.  I sort of warmed to it in the middle of the year.  We dog-sat Satan’s dog mid-year.

I decided I was happy never having a dog in my home. I rethought the thought.  I researched.  I mused.  I sat and day-dreamed.  I obsessed.  I decided I was very keen on a French Bulldog or a Boston Terrier.  Or one of each. Or two of each  <<ssshhh don’t tell Kennith>>

I saw some lovely French Bulldogs. I gasped and sighed.  I will have to wait for the next litter to be considered.

I started chatting to breeders about Boston Terriers.  There was nothing available until next year.  I met a breeder who had a litter.  We spoke.  We emailed.  I named him Dexter.

I was very excited.  Money changed hands. Promises were made. I bought a puppy bed and some puppy food.

The “relationship” went sour.  My money was returned.  I mourn the “loss” of Dexter.

I am back on a waiting lists.

This year will not be “The Year of the Dog” in our house. Kennith suggests we pop down to the local rescue society and pick a dog up.  I have said no, I feel strongly that I want a specific breed from a specific breeder.

Kennith shrugs. I appear resolute.  We do not talk about “getting a dog” to the kids, we talk in code “when will the package arrive?”

So, no dog this year.  I am very disappointed about the nearly-our-dog-Dexter, but I will just need to wait it out like a patient potential dog owner.

6 Comments
by reluctantmom on November 25, 2011  •  Permalink
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Posted by reluctantmom on November 25, 2011

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2011/11/25/the-dog-that-got-away/

I have started internet dating … and I think I have met someone ….

It’s been more than a year since we had a dog in our house.

I have never been dogless.  I have been legless, motherless, and sometimes senseless, but I have always had a dog.

We babysat a dog earlier this year.

I really would like to tell you it was a good experience. I really would.

I got very angry that a family had probably had this dog, and given it no discipline.  They decided to move (probably to get away from the dog).  The dog then got passed along to a variety of people, but the dog really was too much dog for anyone.

I really want to find those original owners and make them listen to Whitney Houston’s “I will always love you” on a loop so their ear drums bleed.

I felt so bad for this dog.  I called a dog behaviorist and thought I would take it on the chin and keep the stupid and annoying dog and train her.

I have never met a dog I hated. I hated this dog.  Like day-dream-about-hate.

Towards the end of our “dog-sitting” time, I started wondering if I could kill the dog myself.  I also thought that maybe I could just leave the gate open and the dog could just run away.

I blame the original owners who did not love this dog enough to teach it manners.  They in theory should be found and slapped.  Hard.  With a spade.

Basically they metered out a death sentence for Maya.  And they made me totally shift my thinking regarding ever taking in a “rescue dog” (hate mail email address is along the side, feel free to drop me any hate mail you would like, really!)

In the end, the dog was poisoned.  Not by me, but clearly by someone who had slightly less patience than me, and maybe needed a bit more medication.

So that was my experience with a dog this year.

It jaded me to “thinking” about getting a new do in our house.  I really was not up for it.

I thought about a dog a few months back, but was not ready.  Flash backs of the black-bitch-from-hell kept playing through the VCR in my head.

A few weeks ago, I thought I might be.  Maybe it was a hormonal imbalance, maybe I missed a pill that day.  Who knows.

I started looking around and looking at what I wanted in a breed, and one thing led to another.

I decided that I wanted a French Bulldog or a Boston Terrier.  Then I realised I loved both breeds and I want both.

Recently online I met Declan.  I call him Dexter.  I love the sound of Dexter.

I sometimes say his name out loud in the middle of the day, to no one in particular.

I find Dexter very handsome and he makes me smile and giggle a bit.

I get excited every time I get an email from his mom.  I am quite “in love” with Dexter, but I am trying to act more aloof than I feel.

He comes with his own bowl, lead and collar.

I must confess I am quite smitten.  The only problem with internet dating is that you really do not know who you are talking to.

Dexter could be a 6-year-old Maltese Poodle, with bad breath and a hernia, masquerading as a Boston Terrier!   He could be.

I need to meet Dexter at the airport on the morning of the 18 November …… he comes with a box, as all good dates should.

His mom has asked me to deposit a large wad of money before she sends him, which makes me suspicious that our relationship is not founded on true love.  It has made our relationship a bit less “magical” than it was before.

I am still meeting him at the airport on the 18 November!

16 Comments
by reluctantmom on November 9, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Dog for our home ...., Family Stuff & Things
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Posted by reluctantmom on November 9, 2011

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2011/11/09/i-have-started-internet-dating-and-i-think-i-have-met-someone/

French Bulldogs …. I want I want I want … please may I have?

We went to view this litter of 9 French Bulldog puppies on Sunday morning.

We took Connor with us, and left the two girls at home.

It would have been totally chaotic with all three kids and nine puppies we were not allowed to touch.

I would have been so busy slapping little hands that I would not have had a chance just to sit in the drool and grunts that are French Bulldogs.

Oh my giddy aunt, my heart skipped a beat.  I gasped what I saw this lot.  I do think puppies are cuter than children … they just are ….

I like puppies as much as the next person, but freak, there were nine little monkeys here and I could so easily have snatched one and put him in my camera bag.

The mother was Hannah, but what was even more divine is that there was a puppy from her first litter, and she was a brindle bitch and just under 18 months – she was absolutely divine.

The litter is 4 weeks old.  The viewing is so that we could be introduced to the breeder and they could make a decision we were special enough to take home one of these special puppies in about 6 weeks.

It was a bit like going to a popularity contest with a few dozen people and not sure exactly what the criteria was for the selection.  But still hoping that what ever it was you got chose.

You want to be polite to the other people there viewing, but you realise they are direct competition.

Just like that.

I have to go so I can stare at my cell phone and wait for it to ring!!  Breeder please call me and tell me I can choose a puppy …. please call ….. please call

More photos can be viewed through this link: http://www.flickr.com/photos/celestebarlow/

8 Comments
by reluctantmom on November 8, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Dog for our home ....
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Posted by reluctantmom on November 8, 2011

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2011/11/08/french-bulldogs-i-want-i-want-i-want-please-may-i-have/

Rubbing biltong between your breasts …..

I have been coveting a dog for our home for some time.

I am seldom a “quick decision maker” when it comes to acquiring a new member of the household.  It took me about 3 – 4 years to decide to get Jackson.

I took less time to decide on a second or third child (we can unpack that idea on another post)

I look at it that a “new dog or cat” is a 12 – 14 year commitment on average, and it’s a lot of responsibility.  You do not always know what you are getting, and you can’t always predict how it is going to change the dynamics in your household, and the going rate for kids to pick up doggie poo! (I use R20.00 a weekend for full weekend doggy poo clean up as a guide)

As much as my kids may scream “we really want a do/cat/hamster/snake/vermin, at the end of the day the responsibility for on going care will be mind, so I decide when I am ready to take on the responsibility.

I have long said to them that we are “not ready for a pet” so it has taken me years to get to a point where I am no longer have to to say “no” to mice/rats/hamsters/snakes/dogs/cats and so on that my kids want to bring home.  My kids know the blanket answer is always going to be NO, so they have stopped asking.

I consider the demand for food, water, care, attention,  vets bills and potentially new shoes to replace the pairs that are lost along the way.

Decision making involves a spreadsheet, numerous hours using google search, chatting to breeders, reading breed standards and much staring into the distance and sighing.

I have decided some time this year that I was “less opposed” to looking at maybe getting a dog.  I thought about it.  Made a list.  Then put it aside.  I repeated this every month or so.

A few weeks back I decided “actually I am quite interested in getting a dog for our home.” And then it turned into a rabid project.  Like Bridezilla.  But not.  However has a similiar frantic decision making where you start seeing the white of my eyes and spittle forms on my chin.

<Just to cut this conversation before it gets started.  I am not interested in rehoming a dog from a shelter.  I am not going to argue the merits of either, really I am not.  Suffice to say I choose to approach a legitimate breeder and purchase a dog that is bred to a particular breed standard.  Case closed.>

I have two breeds in mind at the moment.  Both I like equally.  They have difference and similarities.

To assist my decision-making I went along to a local breed show to meet the breeders and also have the chance to snuggle a dog.  I snuggled, I hugged, I ogled, I appeared to appear controlled, I sat on the grass and gave myself over to slobber.

I thought it would help me “choose” between the two breeds, if anything it made me want them BOTH.  More.

One of the breeds have a litter here in Cape Town.  It’s a specialist breed, and I am very fortunate to have the breeder nearby, and even more lucky that one was born soon after my “real commitment to getting on a puppy list” started.

I have made it on to the shortlist for this litter.  To explain there are about 16 of us, there are 9 puppies in the litter.  Clearly there is going to be name calling, bitch slapping, a bit of name calling and maybe even some slandering of competition.

I feel an overriding urge to puff out my chest, lift my chin and say “Bring it Bitch!”

I can attribute this to the fact that I have been listening to “Die Antwoord” this week, and not to a strategy that will work for me today (or ever).

Today the breeder has invited us to an open day to meet the puppies.  It is also an opportunity for them to meet the “prospective owners” and evaluate them in person.

They can then get a better feel as to whether they really want you to have a puppy, or whether they are going to bounce your application to the kerb.

So it’s like speed dating.  But different.

I gave it some thought and decided to only take Connor.

I cannot imagine me (excitable me, who jabbers when they are nervous and over excited), Kennith (who is slightly disinterested in this), Connor (who does not know we are thinking about a dog/puppy, so he will be in shock), Georgia (who wants to hug everything, so I can only imagine her reaction when presented with 9 adorable puppies), Isabelle (who just appears to not listen when she is on a mission).

All of us facing 9 puppies and me attempting to make a good impression, and keep control.

Total Puppy Open Day Fail.

Solution: Leave the two girls at home, explain they are at cello and violin lessons, and just take Connor along.

I know the girls will be fine if we got a new dog at home.  There will be the first day where they are going mental screaming PUPPY PUPPY PUPPY, and then I will medicate them and send them out of the room.  Threatening to “punish” them if they go within 2 metres of the puppy.

By day two everyone will be fine, and have lost interest.  It will be fine then.  Calm will be back.

Taking three kids to a puppy viewing, would be like “puppy waiting list suicide” and I have opted to at least give myself an outlying chance.

I am so excited about later this morning.

I am going to go and shower, do my hair, and rub some biltong behind my ears and between my breasts to make the puppies like me more ….. strategy people, strategy!!

7 Comments
by reluctantmom on November 7, 2011  •  Permalink
Posted in Dog for our home ....
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Posted by reluctantmom on November 7, 2011

http://reluctantmom.wordpress.com/2011/11/07/rubbing-biltong-between-your-breasts/

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