Attempts at Bonding, Part 4

Hank and Red Rocket have bonded well.  As with most brotherly relationships, this bond is frequently expressed through roughhousing, but there are the quiet moments when a nap together is just the ticket.

Attempts at Bonding, Part 3

While Sophie and Maggie's attempts at bonding with Hank have been tentative, Rachsie has had no reservations.  Or perhaps she wishes to assert herself as the alpha dog.  Hank frequently gets a belly rub from August in the mornings after breakfast.  On this particular morning Rachsie decided hers should be the belly rubbed and since she wasn't big enough to unseat Hank she just lounged on top of him!

Attempts at Bonding, Part 2

Each night at bedtime Sophie used to lovingly clean the inside of Emma's ears.  After Emma's death I had hoped that Sophie would bond with one of the dachshunds but that personality pairing has not born fruit.  When Hank joined the household I wondered if Sophie might adopt him for her motherly ministrations.  And there has been a small measure of progress.  Sophie has commenced her head-cleaning activites a few times.  The problem is that Hank tries to return the favor and the minute his big muzzle hits Sophie's face she lets out a disgusted grunt-and-hiss noise and clears the area.  Hank might learn to stay still and enjoy the bath one of these days.  We continue to hope.

Attempts at Bonding, Part 1

Hank continues to try and bond with Maggie through gentle nuzzles-and-licks and initiations of play.  Maggie, for the most part, remains her stoic self, but there are brief moments of reciprocation.  During the pictured encounter Hank approached cautiously and was initially welcomed but when he dropped into the play posture Maggie went into razor-back mode and it was "game over."

The More Things Stay the Same, Part 3

Our German hunting dog genes continue to compel us to capture and eviscerate any wildlife we encounter: even if it is a lime-green and orange stuffed duck.  The added bonus is the indoor snowfall of white fluff that blankets the living room and commemorates the hunt.

The More Things Stay the Same, Part 2

August continues to take the four dogs with him every weekend to Starbucks.  They now know he's going even before the name of the coffeehouse is mentioned and they eagerly gather at the front door in anticipation of the ride.  August teases them mercilessly by unlocking the handle, deadbolt and chain with agonizing slowness.  The minute the inner door is open they crowd the screen door awaiting release to race to the truck.

The More Things Stay the Same, Part 1

The favorite game of Red Rocket, Rachsie, and Hank remains tug-of-war.  Hank is almost always the instigator and frequently dangles rope toys over the heads of Red Rocket and Rachsie to engage them or over our hands to entice us to play.  Hank's jaws can grip like a steel vise and he revels in "swing-your-partner" tug-of-war with August.  Red Rocket has figured out that he needs to enlist the aid of others if he wants to keep any of his 9 pounds on the ground during a tug session with Hank.

Cat Commercialism

In for a penny, in for a pound.  After the acquisition of "Kojo" who was immediately appropriated as a sleeping device by Red Rocket, I felt the need to provide a snuggling space for the feline members of the Red Rocket family.  I seriously considered the heated pet bed but the cheapskate in me overruled that proposition.  So I headed to the feline products aisle of Petsmart and pondered the offerings.  A cat house?  No, Kasha can sometimes be afraid of enclosed spaces after that incident of getting shut into the bathroom cabinet.  One of those carpet-covered climbers?  More exepensive and uglier than the heated pet bed.  What is this cardboard thing that looks like the bottom of a smashed shoebox?  A cat cradle which multi-functions as a scratcher and bed.  They will never use this, I think, as I put it into the shopping cart.  Oh boy was I wrong...

Meet Kojo

Have you seen the media blitz promoting "Pillow Pets" on television?  For $19.99 you can get a fabulously fluffy animal with special snaps on the bottom that converts the creature into a pillow.  Edward, no doubt joining millions of children worldwide, would yell "I want that!" when the Pillow Pet commercials interrupted his morning cartoons.  Enter Kojo, an upgraded competitor's product: part alligator, part pillow, part blanket.  A Cesarean-section styled zipper in Kojo's tummy allows for the release of an almost full-sized blanket.  Said blanket can be stuffed back into Kojo's innards to convert him into a pillow and two velcro straps can instantly turn him into a gator toy.  As loyal followers of the Red Rocket Report know, Red Rocket loves anything pillow!  And yes, the perspective of the photo is correct.  Kojo is bigger than Rocket!

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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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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Thief

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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Poacher

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.

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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Yin and Yang

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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..."

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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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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We Love Dirty Laundry

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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.