So I think I might have mentioned a few times that the dog barks. A lot. I took her with me to Jesse and Audrey's wedding--the hotel had dog-friendly rooms--and she barked every time I left the room and didn't stop barking 'till I returned. There are rumours that the hotel paged me at one point. "Gienna Writes: Please return to your room and stop that #&*%!@ dog from barking before we all go $%#*&^@ insane."
Or something to that effect.
I've been putting off getting the bark collar for a long time. Zapping an animal with electricity for doing what comes naturally seems so mean. OK, it's static electricity, like you get if you walk across a wool rug in your socks and touch your finger to someone's nose. So maybe it's not exactly mean. But I don't think it's nice, either.
The final straw was getting dragged out of the bar at the hotel by my uncle Richard, who was trying to sleep in the room across the hall but came to get me after two solid hours of barking. Nothing comes between me and my wine. I finally broke down and ordered the bark collar.
Since it arrived, the dog has never been so well-behaved ... But it has nothing to do with the bark collar.
The minute I put the thing on her she curled up in a ball and went to sleep. This was the Saturday after Thanksgiving. She didn't bark all day. Not once. And Sunday morning she was trotting around the house, playing with her toys, wagging her tail, licking my hand, and basically being adorable. Not one bark passed her little doggy lips.
Well, you buy a $50 bark collar you want to know if it's going to work, right? So, I go outside, shut the door, and knock. Sure enough, the dog starts barking. I'm peeping through the doorway and as far as I can tell, absolutely nothing is happening. I come in, re-read the directions, adjust the collar, and try again. Nothing.
Here's how the collar is supposed to work. At the first bark, the collar beeps and emits a low-level warning zap. If the dog barks again, the static charge gets a little stronger and continues to get stronger the more the dog barks, though it resets itself if the dog barks a certain number of times within 30 seconds. I didn't hear any beep, so I wasn't sure if the collar was working. So I take the collar off the dog and test it on myself to see what will happen.
What happens is I get electrocuted.
OK, not electrocuted, since I'm obviously alive enough to be writing this. But holy crap that was a good little sting. Shocked the hell out of me. And while I'm performing my stupid human trick, the dog noses under the blanket on the couch, snuggles up into a ball, and closes her eyes. And as she fell quietly asleep, I'm pretty sure I saw her lips curl up into a very self-satisfied smirk.
Showing posts with label the dog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the dog. Show all posts
Those leaves aren't going to herd themselves
I told you the dog barks at falling leaves:
And here she is jumping for joy because her candidate won the election:
One more bark for the road.
And here she is jumping for joy because her candidate won the election:
One more bark for the road.
Dogs, camera-phones, and minor celebrities
The dog looks less than impressed, but I got a big kick out of meeting Kim Carrigan from Fox25 morning news at a live broadcast in Lynn this morning. (It was their last "zip trip" of the summer). She's prettier than me, and her hair is neater (my hair is hardly ever neat) but I'm taller than her. And I am armed with a cute dog.
Fun fact: The Google phrase that brings the most visitors to my blog is "Kim Carrigan's legs." And before you jump to the conclusion that I am a perv in addition to being a nerd, I don't believe I have ever written about Kim Carrigan's legs.
A few more for your viewing pleasure:
Gene Lavanche and VB--I disagree with almost every single word that comes out of VBs mouth, but he still cracks me up.
I don't really understand the people who stand behind newspeople when they are broadcasting live.
You get the feeling they've done this one before? You can't tell from watching the zip trips on TV, but during breaks they spend a lot of time chatting with people, posing for pictures, and signing autographs.
I wish I had more time--as it was I was almost late for work this morning. I actually had a lot of nerdy fun taking pictures ... and I think if I had hung around for a little longer I would have been braver and taken more crowd and people shots like this one and the next. They're not technically perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but But I still like 'em.
Dog, camera-phone, and minor celebrity (in that order).
Being nice is free
So, I have this dog that barks a little, right? OK, she barks a lot. In fact, sometimes I look out the window to see what she is barking at and the street, the yard, the trees, and the sky are empty of all creatures great and small. Maybe she is barking at a leaf. Or a blade of grass. Or the wind. Or the air. Or the color blue. Maybe she is barking at the possibility that there will soon be something to bark about.
So you can imagine what happens when anyone dares come up on the porch. She goes completely mental. A frenzy of outraged barking.
Yesterday I came home and UPS had delivered a package from Zappos. Perched on top of the box: A milkbone.
Seriously, how nice is that? My dog barks at you, so you bring her a treat? I opened the door without moving the box and let her find it. Maybe she'll remember that treat the next time the UPS guy comes (though I seriously doubt it).
So you can imagine what happens when anyone dares come up on the porch. She goes completely mental. A frenzy of outraged barking.
Yesterday I came home and UPS had delivered a package from Zappos. Perched on top of the box: A milkbone.
Seriously, how nice is that? My dog barks at you, so you bring her a treat? I opened the door without moving the box and let her find it. Maybe she'll remember that treat the next time the UPS guy comes (though I seriously doubt it).
Oh, the dog in-humane-ity!
I kind of hate to admit this, but I have been sucked into watching The Greatest American Dog. Of course, it's irrelevent who wins, since my dog is not among the contestants. She would totally kick some serious doggy butt if she was.
She would have done especially well in the competition in last night's episode, which was to get your dog to portray a certain word chosen at random (loving, sneaky, lazy, angry, regal, etc.) during a photo shoot. We all know Sadie is very photogenic.
In another challenge on last night's show, the owners had to guess whether their dog would "take it" or "leave it" when shown an item on a plate--a piece of steak, a stick, a piece of tofu, etc. Sadie would have had an unfair advantage in that competition, too. She's a beagle. She would take it every time. Even the tofu.
Meanwhile, Ron and Tillman, who got kicked off last night, were robbed. How on earth did the chick who TORTURED her dog--yelled at him, called him names, sprayed grapefruit juice in his face and put a "snarl band" on his mouth in order to make him look angry--not get eliminated? The photographer looked horrified for the poor dog, who was trying to run away, snapping at the owner, and generally looking very unhappy. And the owner is glad, because, she says, now the dog really is angry. One of the judges said flat out it was "inhumane." And the best part: The woman owns a dog-sitting and pet-care business. I wouldn't let that b*tch within two feet of my dog.
Yeah, I got sucked into the show, but I'm not taking it too seriously.
(OK, yeah I am.)
She would have done especially well in the competition in last night's episode, which was to get your dog to portray a certain word chosen at random (loving, sneaky, lazy, angry, regal, etc.) during a photo shoot. We all know Sadie is very photogenic.
In another challenge on last night's show, the owners had to guess whether their dog would "take it" or "leave it" when shown an item on a plate--a piece of steak, a stick, a piece of tofu, etc. Sadie would have had an unfair advantage in that competition, too. She's a beagle. She would take it every time. Even the tofu.
Meanwhile, Ron and Tillman, who got kicked off last night, were robbed. How on earth did the chick who TORTURED her dog--yelled at him, called him names, sprayed grapefruit juice in his face and put a "snarl band" on his mouth in order to make him look angry--not get eliminated? The photographer looked horrified for the poor dog, who was trying to run away, snapping at the owner, and generally looking very unhappy. And the owner is glad, because, she says, now the dog really is angry. One of the judges said flat out it was "inhumane." And the best part: The woman owns a dog-sitting and pet-care business. I wouldn't let that b*tch within two feet of my dog.
Yeah, I got sucked into the show, but I'm not taking it too seriously.
(OK, yeah I am.)
Free kisses with every portrait session
First cute dogs, now even cuter babies. What is this blog coming to?
Seriously, have you ever seen such a sweet face? He's so curious, carefully studying the world around him, taking it all in.
Little does he know, the dog is about to swoop in for a kiss:
Babies and dogs. Sheesh!
I'll post more as soon as I can ... They'll be marked private for family and friends, so if you're either, make sure you sign up for Flickr (if you haven't already) and send me a note so I can add you to my contact list.
That is, unless you don't like babies and dogs.
Seriously, have you ever seen such a sweet face? He's so curious, carefully studying the world around him, taking it all in.
Little does he know, the dog is about to swoop in for a kiss:
Babies and dogs. Sheesh!
I'll post more as soon as I can ... They'll be marked private for family and friends, so if you're either, make sure you sign up for Flickr (if you haven't already) and send me a note so I can add you to my contact list.
That is, unless you don't like babies and dogs.
Happy pumpkin!*
The title (as indicated by the exclamation point) is totally ironic--why is it that dogs in costumes always look so miserable? In fact, she was wagging her tail and was perfectly happy all night in her puffy, warm, soft pumpkin outfit (well, OK, we had to ditch the hat). Barking and running around and poking her nose into everyone's candy bags and even trying, unsuccessfully, to roll over (she would get half-way and then the puffy pumpkin costume would let her roll no further).
Plus, doesn't she know how totally cute she looks?
Dogs on a blanket
Been a lot going on, but not a lot of time to write about it all. Our favorite Beagle friend Simon came to visit last week. I don't know if you can tell this about him, but he is pretty laid back. Unlike someone else I know.
Dogs in the grass
Few more photos featuring Simon the wonder beagle here.
New tricks
Just got back from three days in Nashville, TN, with some folks from work. One of my co-workers expressed some concern that I might quote her on my blog. I didn't tell her that until she is as cute as the dog or as crazy as the crazy dead upstairs neighbor, she's not likely to be immortalized here.Does she dance like a ballerina on command? I don't think so.
Nashville was a lot of fun. Next time I'd save more energy for the honky-tonk bars and the live music, though. We went to the world famous Tootsies the first night, but by the time we got there (via a series of local eateries and drinkeries) I was wiped out. I would have also liked to see the Frist, but our schedule didn't accommodate. The truth is that when you're traveling for business you often don't have as much time and energy to be a tourist as you'd like.
I will tell you one story (it's a very safe one, I promise). At supper on the second night someone asked the table, "If you could be in any band in history, which would it be?" I knew my answer right away. But can you believe that someone I had just met the night before guessed which band I was going to choose before I even said it? I mean, that's a little spooky, right?
Katie: I am back and want to hear all about the passing of the papers -- Woo hoos all around -- and I like the new design on your site, too. I still want to help you learn how to upload photos ... I really do. Then I can say "You should put that on your blog" to you!
One more cute picture of the dog's new trick here.
At least they understand each other
My mom and the dog have very animated conversations.
Don't forget: The Melrose Arts Festival is this weekend (for details, see my mom's site).
A walk in the woods (and other brilliant ideas)
'Untitled' On Black
My mom and I (and the dog) spent a few days in New Hampshire recently. We had a map of a woodsy area with hiking trails that we wanted to check out, so we headed off in the minivan to find it.
We were heading down a dirt road with a general awareness that we'd probably taken a wrong turn somewhere, though we hadn't gone far enough to give up on the hope that a gravel parking lot with a forest department sign marking the entrance to the trailhead would appear at any moment. We were looking at the sprawling patchwork houses, their so-called lawns dotted with pieces of farming equipment, rusted bikes, broken swing sets, and tree stumps, and wondering if the people who lived there had electricity or running water or had ever paid Federal taxes.
That's when we saw the pickup truck blocking the road.
We slowed. The truck didn't move. We stopped. The truck didn't move. We waited. The truck still didn't move. Finally, a woman came out from behind the truck and walked toward us. I rolled the driver's side window down. The dog started barking.
"Can I help you?" she asked, as if we had just arrived at the drive-up window of a fast food joint and were not, in fact, innocently traveling down what appeared to be a perfectly public (if very bumpy) dirt road.
"What?" I asked. "Is this a private road?" The dog continued to bark ferociously.
"Not exactly," she said.
I would have started an argument, but my mom leaned over and said the name of the road we were supposed to be on and the woman, softening a bit, told us that we had missed the turnoff -- it was about a mile down the road. Back the way we came. She stared pointedly. The dog barked some more.
Meanwhile, another truck arrived, coming from the other direction. The taillights on the truck that had been blocking the road flashed briefly, and the truck that had been forming a makeshift roadblock backed up, clearing the way. The second truck drove by with a wave to the driver of the first truck. The driver and the woman, who was still standing at the minivan window, waved back.
"I guess you know them, huh?" I said.
"Yeah," she said. "We pretty much know everyone around here. And then we saw you coming, with the Massachusetts plates."
"And you didn't know us."
"That's right."
"We're mostly harmless."
She looked at the dog. Who was still barking and was now also throwing herself at the window.
"Mostly."
The road was a little too narrow and the ditches on either side a little too deep to turn the minivan around. We sat and contemplated this while the dog barked and leaped some more.
"Maybe we could turn around in the driveway there," I said nodding to a dirt driveway off the dirt road just beyond the pickup truck blocking the dirt road.
The woman looked over at the man in the pickup, who had since moved the truck back into its position across the road. He shrugged, and the taillights flashed again and he backed up to let us pass. They both watched us very carefully, keeping an eye out in case we tried to make a run for it.
Later that night, watching the local news, we found out that someone had called in a bomb threat to a nearby public school. It turns out the back-woods, off-the-grid, pickup-driving hippies had formed their own posse to protect a private school further down the public road from the likes of us and our barking dog and our Massachusetts license plate.
Meanwhile, we were still looking for the wooded area with the trails. We drove down a couple more dirt roads, relieved that neither was blocked by pickup trucks. Then the road we were on got a lot narrower. And a lot steeper. And the ditches on the side of the road got deeper. A couple of pickup trucks -- really old pickup trucks driven by grizzly-faced men wearing flannel jackets -- passed us. I squeezed the minivan as far over to the side of the road as I could without actually driving it into the ditch. They stared at us as we passed. We soldiered on.
The road started to climb, and the climb got steeper. Then it descended, and the hard-pan dirt of the road started to disintegrate into a looser, rockier approximation of a dirt road. We saw two women walking ahead of us. They seemed friendly enough, at least from behind. So we slowed as we approached them and rolled down the window. They jumped a bit as the dog started barking.
"Wow," the older woman said. "That car is very quiet."
The younger woman kind of smiled at us. The dog continued to bark.
We showed the women the map, and explained about the public land, and the supposed parking area, and the marked trails in the woods.
"I've lived here all my life and I've never heard of such a thing," she said. "And there's walking trails? You're going to go walking? In the woods?"
"Yes," we smiled. "That was our plan, anyway."
"Hmmm," she said, taking stock of our seasonally-appropriate green and brown scarves and hats and our wooly wintry coats and sweaters, also in autumnal earth tones, and our little brown barking dog. You know, the one that looks kind of like a fox or a very small deer.
"You know that it's hunting season, right?"
The nice older woman (who at this point must have thought us a couple of complete morons) told us of a nearby field, which was fairly open, where the dog could run around.
"Stick to the roads if you're going to walk," she told us. "They're not supposed to shoot you on the roads."
And we pulled over and let the dog out (who immediately found a big old Maine coon cat to chase) and we walked through the field, somewhat nervously at first, but then, when no one shot us, a little more confidently. And then we found this old graveyard. The light was terrible -- shining harshly directly overhead -- but we took some pictures anyway. And this one came out OK (there's another one here).
But, quite frankly, it kind of seems like a lot to go through for a couple of pictures and a short walk in a field.
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