Friday, December 31, 2010

A New Year's Resolution for Maggie: No More Cheeseburgers

Dr. Olson sent us a lovely holiday e-newsletter last week that cautioned against the dangers of holiday over-indulgence for pets. A fabulous diagram accompanying the warning illustrated that for a 20 pound dog one oreo-cookie-sized dog treat is the equivalent to a human eating a cheeseburger. Dr. Olson please advise: what is the human equivalent when a 20 pound dog actually consumes a cheeseburger? We despair that after a rigorous "slim down" campaign last year Maggie has experienced a major relapse and has snatched two cheeseburgers from Edward over the course of the past two weeks. In addition, three weeks ago Sophie, herself a member of "club slim down," violated the points system by pushing an entire jar of dog treats off the kitchen counter and into the jaws of Maggie waiting on the kitchen floor below. Not only did Maggie eat all the treats in the jar - she chewed the cork stopper under the jar lid as well. Will Village Animal Hospital start hosting Overeaters Anonymous meetings in the New Year? We can provide charter members for the group. CNN reported today that losing weight is the number one New Year's Resolution - at least Maggie will be in good company.
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Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Sexist Behavior

To ardent fans of the Red Rocket Report pining away for updates: the semester is almost over and I have been stockpiling photos over the past several weeks in anticipation of an end-of-the-semester blog-a-thon. A taste of what is to come can be found in this photo of Hank and Red Rocket snoozing next to me while I grade papers: sociological research from the Red Rocket Institute is indicating a new behavioral trend in the household. The male dogs (Hank and Rocket) favor spending time with Momma while the females (Maggie and Rachsie) are often found with Daddy. Supporting data and interpretive conclusions to follow (or to be posted by readers of the Red Rocket Report!)
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Wednesday, November 10, 2010


At 1:30 AM I was awakened by a strange metallic clanging noise. In the blackness of the night I searched my fuzzy brain to match sound to source and couldn't draw a conclusion. "August, what's that noise?" He was out of bed pretty fast, fumbling with this glasses and grabbing his Blackberry to use as a flashlight. I listened as he navigated through the living room and turned the corner into the kitchen. "Hank! You know better!" And Hank apparently did know better as I heard him race to his kennel and self-imprison, tail thumping against the side of the crate. I heard dishes rattling in the kitchen. Hank had scaled the stove and was licking the soup pan I had left out on the burner. I expected August to just shut the door to Hank's kennel and return to the bedroom denying him familial contact for the rest of the night. But no, Hank's punishment is to share a crowded bed with us. August ordered him "Back to bed!" so he is now confined to a space narrower than his kennel with his head on August's shoulder. Yes, I'm sure he suffers and repents...
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Tuesday, November 9, 2010


I heard a fascinating report recently on the problem of poaching sturgeon in Russia and how authorities are fighting a losing battle since the caviar these quite ugly fish provide is worth more than its weight in gold.  I was riveted by the discussion as I, too, have a poaching problem and as head of the domestic government am in search of an effective solution that will put an end to it.  The poacher: Hank.  The poached: cat litter box (yyyuuukkkkk....)  As a child I did not have cats but I remember that the neighborhood felines liked to make deposits in my backyard sandbox and the family hound Daisy the dachshund frequently feasted from this smorgasbord.  Our veterinarian at the time suggested that we were being overly anxious and controlling and that we should embrace Daisy's culinary wanderings and enhance her backyard buffet via the application of some Tabasco sauce to the cat poop.  Daisy did not appreciate our epicurian contribution and never returned to the feces feast again.  But Daisy was only 15-20 pounds (give or give 5 pounds - no, that's not a typo, dachshund owners will understand...)  If I Tabascoed Hank and he reacted the way Daisy did our water bill would be 200 dollars - surely there is a cheaper solution?  But let's look on the positive side.  With the Christmas season fast approaching perhaps the clinging gray clay litter whiskers Hank sports after a dump dive can be interpreted as an ode to Santa Claus.  I guess this is one of those problems that deserves a New Year's resolution.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Four in a Row

Capturing all four canines in one photograph is much more difficult than you might think. This one is a bit overexposed but August managed to snap it!
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Monday, October 18, 2010

Attention Passengers

"Attention passengers. Please stow your tray tables, adjust your seat backs to their full, upright and locked position, and fasten your seatbelts. Snookie and Dixie have arrived for a five day visit..."

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Clean Dogs, Clean Laundry

Grandma and Grandpa are coming to visit tomorrow. All four dogs have been bathed in Autumn Apple shampoo and after a wild shaking and racing around the house Red Rocket and Maggie have taken refuge from the vacuum cleaner in a pile of warm, clean laundry.
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Monday, October 11, 2010

Turtle Time

Edward's beloved stuffed turtles, William and Roco, take a snooze on Red Rocket. I construct an imaginary conversation: William says, "Roco, this is an awfully soft and fluffy rock we are sunbathing on."
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Saturday, October 9, 2010

An Instant of Instigation

It was a head butt.  Earlier this evening His Royal Highness Prince Edward was engaged in military maneuvers in protection of his basement fortress.  Queen Mommy was required to supervise the battles from the sofa because the Prince is still a bit afraid of being in the basement alone.  I was absorbed in a mystery novel set against the backdrop of World War I England when it happened: my peripheral vision caught a distinct motion beside me on the couch.  It was a head butt.  And, shockingly, it was Maggie perpetrating the head butt in the direction of Hank who was lounging beside her.  Do not turn my head: I know that the instant they think they are being watched any attempts at play will be abandoned and the focus will zero in on me instead.  Giving myself a wicked case of eye-strain I covertly observed.  Another head butt and then another.  Shock and amazement flooded my being.  This is my Maggie; the grande dame who is "too cool" to play, too dignified to, well, head butt a chocolate lab.  Hank swerved his massive muzzle over Maggie's head and proceeded to lick her all over the face.  Maggie tentatively licked his jowls in return.  Hank wiggled on the couch, getting ready for a good, old fashioned doggie wrestle-and-chase.  And that's when it happened: the Moxie Maggie personality disappeared and Matron Maggie reappeared, a warning growl was delivered, and Hank, taking life in stride as he always does, rose up on his massive feet, turned three times in a circular pattern to make a nest, and flopped down for a snooze.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Not So Fast Pillow Prince

There's a Pillow King who plans to battle for the throne...
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Tuesday, September 21, 2010


Maggie is standing in Hank's kennel wagging her tail. She is not sorry that she snatched that plump, warm piece of freshly baked pumpkin bread from Edward and bolted it down before August could reach her. Just like a kid who is punished by being sent to his room and then happily sits in there playing with his toys...
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Monday, September 20, 2010

Word Problem

My apologies to those of you who might read this and experience bad math class flashbacks! However, here is the Red Rocket Report puzzle of the week for our followers who love a mental challenge! WHAT'S THE ANSWER? Edward invites two little boys (they are brothers) over for a playdate. Mommy makes a batch of 34 peanut butter cookies for the boys. Each boy gets 2 cookies. Mommy eats 1 cookie. Daddy eats 1 cookie. The boys' mother arrives with their baby sister, boys' mom eats 1 cookie, baby sister eats half a cookie and Maggie snatches the other half. We all go out on the front porch to say goodbye to the boys at the end of the playdate. When we come back inside there are only 8 cookies left on the counter. How many peanut butter cookies did Hank eat?
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Saturday, September 18, 2010

Texture Study

I've been spending way too much time teaching the formal elements of art.  Instead of an entertaining narrative to accompany this picture all that comes to mind is that the texture of Red Rocket's ears matches the texture of the frayed ends of the rope bone he is guarding...

Poem: The Opposition of Hank and Rachsie

Big and Small,
Short and Tall,
Dark and Light,
Hefty and Slight,
Fight and Goodnight.

The Pillow Proclamation

I, Red Rocket, hereby proclaim the following.  All pillows in the house belong to me.  Priority use of pillows shall always be mine.  Pillows may not be moved without my permission.  Any quilted fabric that can be manipulated around the shape of my body is considered a pillow for all intents and purposes. 

Sleeping on Me, She Is

Kasha uses Master Yoda as a pillow.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

How Did You Use Your Coupon?

Yesterday's mail contained a $5 towards any purchase coupon from Petsmart so late this morning after teaching over at the Metroplex I swung around the corner to pick up a little something for the furry kids.  I discovered that the coupon was most likely intended to get you into the store to see their recent remodeling job and tempt you with purchses from the newly established "Martha Stewart Pets" designer line prominently featured in a display just inside the door.  I walked out with a four pack of peppermint-infused rawhide bones to keep the canine kisses minty fresh... 

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Goodnight Kiss for Little Sis

This evening we are experiencing an overabundance of animal affection. It started with Hank kissing and cuddling Red Rocket (who you can see at the bottom of the photo) and then Rachsie inserted herself into the love-a-thon and Hank turned to smooch her. Now all four dogs are clustered in the center of the bed. Hank is using Maggie as a pillow. Red Rocket's body is nestled between Hank's front legs. Red Rocket and Rachsie are cheek-to-cheek. Sophie is perched on my lap intently studying the sleeping hounds. If Emma was one of the canines in the cluster then Sophie would be making her way over to lovingly wash Emma's ears which was their evening routine. She hasn't bonded enough yet with one of the other dogs to do this. But now I wonder if she is seriously contemplating it.
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Thursday, September 9, 2010


Edward tells Red Rocket a secret before going to bed. No doubt they were conspiring about acquiring late-night snacks.
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Lap Full of Love

Two months ago August, Edward and I packed up the truck and headed north for my family reunion.  Normally the dogs go with us whenever we travel but this time we had to leave them behind as the rental house on Lake Geneva had a strict "no pets" policy.  I found a fabulous pet sitter who stayed at the house with "the furry children" and lavished them with love.  Our first night away from the dogs something amazing happened.  I sat down at the kitchen table in the rental house and automatically braced my legs for the anticipated "lap leap" that always occurs when I am at home.  I hadn't even realized I did that when I sat until I found myself in a dogless house.  My lap, however, is lonely no more.  In fact, many times it is overflowing with love.

Monday, September 6, 2010

No Room for Me

Red Rocket is perched atop his pillow mountain. Hank is right in the middle of the bed. Those lumps under the comforter next to Hank's head are Maggie and Rachsie. Where am I supposed to sleep tonight?
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Playing with the Big (Four-Legged) Dogs

Where is a video camera when you need one?!?  This morning August took the four dogs for their usual weekend Starbucks run (they got an extra run this weekend because of the Labor Day holiday.)  As they returned and pulled into the driveway I walked out onto the front porch to assist with dogs and drinks.  All four canines poured out of the door of the truck and I held the front door open so they could run into the house.  Maggie led the pack followed by Rachsie.  Hank, however, felt compelled to take a detour and headed for the tree in our front yard for a leg-lift.  He marked the tree and ran into the house.  Red Rocket is always the last one out of the truck because he needs to be helped down out of the truck.  He followed Hank to the tree and after Hank finished I watched in waves of mirth and horror as Red Rocket attempted to emulate his big brother's leg lift against the tree.  Rocket managed to position himself correctly with his missing front leg closest to the tree and I'm sure his intent was to raise his back left leg and balance on his two right legs.  But it didn't work.  He fell over twice and then with his usual pluck and spirit turned and raced to the house. 

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Battle Scar

If you have read the "French Manicure" post you know that Hank visited Dr. Olson yesterday for dewclaw care.  While we were there Dr. Olson, being the responsible veterinarian that he is, gave Hank a quick once-over.  I noticed that Dr. Olson stroked and examined a spot over Hank's right eye where some fur was missing and I explained that it was a battle scar inflicted by Rachsie.  Perhaps he was skeptical that a 9 pound dachshund could best a 65 pound chocolate lab but play sessions in our house are rough and tumble.  And as a recent follower of the Red Rocket Report who visited our home noted: "Hank instigates."  In this action shot Hank taunts Red Rocket with the amputated front leg from a stuffed camel toy...

Vase or Face?

One of the most famous pedagogical images for art educators is the "vase or face" illustration which challenges students to ponder their perceptions of positive and negative space.  Is this a picture of two people in profile against a white background looking at each other or is this a white vase against a black background?  One evening as I prepared lesson plans for my Introduction to Art and Design class Red Rocket and Rachsie contributed to the effort by reinacting the famous "vase or face" composition.

French Manicure

Those followers of the Red Rocket Report who are avid fashionistas know that one of the latest trends in personal adornment is the French Manicure where the bed of the nail is left natural and the tip is painted white.  Since I want my dogs to reflect the height of contemporary fashion and sophistication I will share that yesterday I delivered Hank to Dr. Olson and he was given a stylish French Manicure.  At least, that version sounds more elegant than the truth...  In actuality, Hank mangled his dewclaw.  For those of you unfamiliar with dog anatomy the dewclaw is like a thumb - it's that funny looking nail/claw on the side of a canine's foot/leg.  In some breeds the dewclaws are surgically removed when a puppy is spayed or neutered because they can cause problems.  Case in point: Hank.  Hank is a typical boy who loves high speed chases, leaping against trees and fences, and flinging himself with abandon around the yard.  And like most boys, sometimes the fun means we get hurt.  At some point on Sunday afternoon Hank tore his dewclaw.  I suspect it may have gotten caught on the fence when he jumped against it to greet the new dog who has moved in two doors down.  I know it hurt.  It hurt me just looking at the twisted, torn claw.  And anyone who has had a hangnail or who has ripped one of their own nails knows that it is a constant nagging hurt.  Throughout the evening Hank would lick at it and after he fell asleep August and I tried to clip it so that it wouldn't catch on anything and rip further but Hank squealed in pain and we had to stop.  So on Monday morning we headed to Dr. Olson's.  Hank, auditioning for the Academy Award, held his paw limp and refused to shake for a treat (he shook for treats at home but apparently felt he needed to put on a show for the ladies at Dr. Olson's).  The treatment was amazingly simple: a little numbing spray for the pain, a nail clip and file, and then - the most amazing part - application of superglue to encase the nail and hopefully prevent further snags.  This glob of superglue has hardened into a lovely white shell around the end of Hank's dewclaw and Dr. Olson says it will probably stay in place for several weeks.  Do you think we could market this technique to upscale nail salons?  I can see it now: Henri's DuClaw Miracle French Manicure.  Anyway, Hank has gotten some relief from the procedure and we hope he doesn't have to have his dewclaws removed but we'll keep a watchful eye and a tube of superglue.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Bred for Better than This

I know that Hank loves us and is thankful for the loving home we have given him. He shows it. The other night he jumped up in bed next to me and collapsed, exhausted, from one of his typical energy-filled days. Moments later he lifted his head and looked over at me, thumped his tail wildly for a moment, and then collapsed again to snore loudly beside me. But tonight I wondered if perhaps Hank misses some small element of his former hunting dog life as he spent 45 minutes stalking a fly buzzing around our bedside lamp. Surely this is a poor substitute for a mallard or a pheasant? Surely skulking around the bed from nightstand to nightstand lacks the vigor of bounding into a lake or across a field? Surely the texture of a fly in one's jowls disappoints when compared to a fleshy, feathered mouthful? Or maybe with a tummy happily stuffed full of premium dogfood, rawhide chews, liver snaps, and table scraps snatched from a kindergartener the fly is like a rare French delicacy capping off a multi-course meal?
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Saturday, August 14, 2010

Hot Dog

It is 101 degrees at 5:00 PM. Hank demonstrates the keen intelligence of his breed by laying over the air conditioning floor vent in the kitchen.
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Cat for Dinner

Oh dear, I fear that after posting this picture no one will want to come eat at our house ever again. What can I say? I have classy cats who crave fine china and linens...
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The Puker

It is a few minutes after midnight. Hank has just returned the chicken breasts he stole earlier in the evening. August cleaned up the mess, came back to bed, turned to Hank and said, "You are still loved."
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Friday, August 13, 2010

The Prisoner

This is what happens when you eat two large chicken breasts off of the platter on the top of the stove... We still love you Hank; you're lucky I had a can of chicken breast meat in the pantry.
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Thursday, August 12, 2010

Dog Days of Summer

It was 106 degrees in the shade today in Kansas. We haven't had rain in weeks and the grass has turned as brown as Red Rocket's fur. The dogs are only allowed outside for a few minutes and the minute they come inside they all head for the watering hole. Edward noticed that the water tank was empty and climbed up on the counter all on his own to take care of his dogs!
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Monday, August 9, 2010

King of the Hill

A picture of Red Rocket in his favorite spot: atop a heap of pillows!
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Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Favorite Game Take 256

We all know it's his favorite game!  Red Rocket and Rachsie engage in a game of tug-of-war with Rocket claiming victory!

Fly Catcher

When they were kittens, Sophie and Kasha hunted flies with vigor.  Insects that managed to invade the inner sanctum of their feline lair were soon exterminated, often through acrobatic assassination missions.  However, easy success breeds contempt (and a few extra pounds breeds lethargy and a Garfield philosophy towards life) so after a few years I had to break out the fly swatter.  Enter Hank, born with the hunting instinct but without the hunter's coordination or finesse.  Several days ago a fly entered through the back door and was immediately stunned by the frigid climate of our air conditioned house.  Hank caught sight of the fly floundering against the window and jumped into action, attempting to smash it with his big nose.  The result: a dizzy, stunned fly; a dizzy, stunned Labrador; and more money for the Windex corporation...

Calling Dr. Rocket

The celebration of Red Rocket's one year anniversary as a member of the family was marked by his annual visit to Dr. Olson for vaccinations.  Edward became fascinated by the workings of the stethoscope and after discovering its function he wanted to share his new found knowledge with the dogs by allowing them to listen to his heartbeat.

The Bone Collector

Hank's arrival in our household has precipitated an increase in the purchase, distribution, and consumption of rawhide bones after I caught him gnawing on the heels of a pair of my high heeled shoes (although at $15 a bag rawhide is not much cheaper than shoes...)  The acquisition of a rawhide chew is about the only thing that can fundamentally alter the personalities of our canines.  Red Rocket is a hider: he immediately takes his bone and retreats to the basement stairwell landing where he is relatively undisturbed.  Rachsie is a stealer: she stalks both Hank and Red Rocket waiting for any opportunity to snatch their bones which she assumes must be better tasting than the one she was given.  Hank is a barker: pretty much the only time he ever barks is when Rachsie steals his bone and then, instead of snatching it back or stealing hers he barks and barks until I intervene and confiscate the slimy piece of cow hide and return it to him.  And then there is Maggie: the hoarder and hider.  She intently waits, sometimes for hours, until the other dogs have become distracted and left their bones unattended, whereupon she quietly takes the bones and buries them in the furniture cushions.  She pushes the bones under pillows or fabrics by sliding her nose snowplow fashion.  Her diligence at this task frequently results in the development of a raw pink skinned spot on the top of her muzzle.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Pretty for the Party

With ears freshly brushed and tail fluffed, Red Rocket awaits the arrival of our dinner party guests.
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Indoor Goose Hunting

Yesterday during our Saturday errands we stopped at Petsmart to stock up on food and cat litter. PALS volunteers were there showing dogs available for adoption so we were able to give Hank's foster mom an update on his progress. We resisted the two sweet miniature dachshunds PALS had for adoption and instead of bringing home more live creatures we opted for the "stuffed wild bird" assortment of dog toys containing a pheasant, a mallard duck, and a goose. For Hank, these faux feathered were an acceptable substitute to hunting the real thing. For me, anything that does not deposit poop to be rolled in by Red Rocket is a fabulous idea. However, I did pick up a new bottle of "Tropical Hound" coconut shampoo just in case some evil dog toy designer who previously worked for Spensers Boutiques made the stuffed wild birds the "Betsy Wetsy" variety.
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Friday, July 16, 2010

Happiness is...

Happiness is having someone to snuggle with in a house with arctic cold air conditioning.
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Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Perched on the Pillow Throne

The Mughal Emperors of India were the first to be seated upon a famous jewel encrusted "peacock throne" composed of two of the magnificent birds with their tail feathers spread. As Red Rocket rested his head upon this arabesque patterned pillow case I was reminded of this famous throne, although my penchant for seeking out bargain basement bed linens perhaps takes something away from the metaphor.
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Goodnight Kiss

Hank gets a goodnight kiss!
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Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Let's Play "Shot of the Day!"

OK Red Rocket Report readers: let's play "The Shot!" August snapped this picture of Hank in bed this morning. Who can propose the best caption? Post your entry in the comments section: and remember the new RRR site allows everyone (even unregistered users) to play!
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Monday, July 12, 2010

Bad Dogs Have More Fun

I'm waiting in the checkout line at Barnes and Noble and there is a gift book on the display rack titled "Bad Dogs Have More Fun." I flipped it open to a page that tells the story of a yellow lab who opened up the kitchen cabinet drawers to make a ladder so he could get to chocolate on top of the refrigerator. Who does that remind you of???
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It's a Dog's Life

Red Rocket sleeps in on a Monday morning.
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Sunday, July 11, 2010

New Features!

Hello Friends and Fans of the Red Rocket Report! You'll notice lots of changes to our blog. Red Rocket can now post messages via his Blackberry to the blog to keep in touch when he's on the road and he's made it easier for friends and fans to communicate with him! You no longer need to be a registered user to post a comment - just click on the number of comments link and talk to your favorite dachshund! You can also use the icons next to the comments link to share your favorite Red Rocket Reports via e-mail, Blogger, Twitter, Facebook, or Google Buzz! Spread the Red Rocket love!
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Redilocks and the Texas Two Step

Once upon a time there were two dogs who lived in a house in the Texas Hill Country.  One day, Big Dog Dixie came home and exclaimed, "Someone's been sleeping in my bed!" Little Dog Snookie agreed declaring, "Someone's been sleeping in my bed and he's still there!"  Redilocks, unfazed and unrepentant, slumbered on.


There are very few things that Red Rocket cannot do with three legs.  He can run.  He can jump.  He can climb the stairs.  But the one thing he is unable to accomplish is getting back down the stairs after he has ascended them.  He can do one or two steps, but anything more is mission impossible.  This isn't really a problem in our ranch style house because he is content to stay on the living level and he knows that if I go to the basement to throw in a load of laundry or get a toy for Edward that I will be right back up.  At Grandma and Grandpa's house, however, where the bedrooms and guest bathroom are upstairs, it's a different scenario.  It's not a problem when we're in the house.  If we go upstairs to get something and he follows us we just scoop him up as we start down the steps and take him with us.  The problem is when we leave the house to go to the lake or into town.  Inevitably, Red Rocket, even though he sees us leave, decides to either look for us or look for trouble when we're gone and scales the long staircase and gets stuck.  In the great echoing silence of the empty house he whines and whines for someone to come and get him.  But we are gone.  And he is stranded.  And so he urinates and defecates all over the top landing of the stairs out of anger and frustration.  When we arrive home, we are greeted with high-pitched Red Rocket wailing.  He is rescued.  He is bathed (because he has been wallowing in his self-imposed litter box).  The floor is cleaned.  Life is good again.  Until he gets stuck next time... 

Guess Who Loved the Lake?

Ummmm, no, not Red Rocket!  We suspected that Hank might like to swim.  And as you can see from the posted photo, we were right!  Our biggest challenge was finding an unoccupied spot along the shore of the lake on the 4th of July weekend because we knew that the only thing Hank would love more than the lake would be greeting his public!  Our next biggest challenge was finding enough sticks to throw into the lake for Hank to fetch.  He felt compelled to retrieve something (thus the breed name labrador retriever) and if he couldn't find the stick we threw for him he would swim over to a lake plant and try to grab it and bring it to shore!

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Under Construction

Longtime followers of the Red Rocket Report will notice some changes to the blog. We are "under construction" to update our look, our links, and our life circumstances. Keep visiting: we are "open during renovations!"

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Queen versus Full/Double Bed

Our bed at home is a queen size bed. As I researched bed sizes to write this post I came across a web site that recommended queen size beds for "couples who like to snuggle." I wonder what the author of that post would say about a couple who puts themselves and four dogs into a queen size bed? I suppose an optimistic writer would call us extremely loving and affectionate people. A pessimistic writer would call us nuts. Let me tell you what nuts is: a couple and four dogs sharing a full size bed - that's nuts. The bed in Grandma and Grandpa's guest room is a full size bed, which, according to my research, is 5 inches shorter than a queen size bed and has 6 inches less width. This may not seem like much space to sacrifice, but let me assure you, it is. To illustrate: a full size bed is 75 inches long while a queen size bed is 80 inches long. August is 78 inches long. Therefore, he cannot sleep laying straight on a full size bed and has to position his body at a diagonal which invades bed territory traditionally occupied by Maggie and/or Hank. Furthermore, the subtraction of 6 inches in width eliminates the area in the bed I call the "Berlin Wall" composed of miniature dachshunds whose body width is approximately 6 inches. As we prepared for bed the first night, all four dogs lounged on the full size mattress and I could see the handwriting on the wall. Someone was getting kicked out of the bed. Night one: Maggie abandons Dante's Inferno for the cozy comfort of Edward's cot. Night two: Hank decides a little bonding time with Edward is in the cards. Night three: Mommy surrenders and leaves the bed to August and the dogs.

Bedtime Story

Red Rocket joins Edward, Natalie and Nathan as Grandma reads them a bedtime story.