Mornings with Dinah (Or, Serenity WOW!)

 

• Dinah by Thelonious Monk

The song Dinah was named after -- it captures her little personality so well!

I try to do yoga every morning, and these days it has turned into quiet time with Dinah. When I first started, toward the end of my time in New Mexico, I still had all three dogs.  Even though I wanted them to hang out during yoga time, that proved an impossibility.  I don't know if you've ever tried to lay on the floor when dogs are in the room, but they lose their shit.  "Oh my Gawd, she's on the floor!  Let's go put our snoots in her face!"  Of course, this never happened when I wanted to sleep on the floor with them -- they'd trot off to their respective beds.  But if I got on the floor with any sense of purpose (crunches, yoga), it was like feeding time at the koi pond.

Anyway, I can still hear Dinah's little paws on the yoga mat.  They made this hollow sound that the other two dogs were too heavy to make.  When I'm doing my morning yoga routine, my mind usually wanders off to New Mexico and Dinah's paws.  It's a good way to start the day.

As serene as that sounds, my mind usually ends up in the land of wiener dog races, and I can't help but laugh.  You know how dogs get feisty sometimes and then sprint on an invented loop in the house for what seems like no reason?  Well, when Dinah did it, she'd hunker her rear end down like a motorboat.

• The Race (Remastered Club Mix) by Yello

If you know what's good for you, you'll press play while you read the next bit.

One day I came home from work when she and Rocky were in mid-chase.  Dinah came flying out of the hallway with the crazy-eye and her tongue flying, with Rocky right on her tail.  As they crossed the living room, I thought they would turn around in front of the coffee table. BUT NO!  Dinah leaped onto the table, over the bottom cushions of the couch, and then  -- turning her body in mid-air -- banked off the back cushions and ran back from whence she came!  EGADS! And Rocky, being more potato-y than Dinah, followed suit only without the acrobatics -- his paws clobbered every. single. surface.

Of course, Boots could see that this was lots of fun and wanted to join in.  But she was even bigger and more lumbering than Rocky. All she could manage was to bounce her front paws a few times in the direction the other two just ran before they turned and were headed back toward her. This effectively turned her back half into a pivot, and she just hopped her front half back and forth barking her head off as the other two dogs whizzed by. 

Suddenly, the claw marks on the coffee table made sense, and the mystery of how stacks of student papers ended up strewn all over the living room was solved.  OH MY GAWD, those dogs were so damn funny together.  They didn't do this very often when I was home -- I certainly never saw the ninja couch turn -- but they obviously spent a lot of their time alone entertaining themselves this way.  I miss them all!

Dream Girl

I dreamed of Dinah two nights ago, and I was very happy for the visit. In the dream, she just sort of trotted around this corner and came running to me...but I woke up or something happened before I got to pet her. I remember saying in the dream, "Hey, there's Dinah!" and feeling like she wasn't really gone after all. But there she was, exactly as cute and happy as I remember.

Strangely, when I woke up I was only a little disappointed that it was only a dream. I mean, of course I'd love to have her back. When I was still raw and in the denial stage, I wished for there to be some kind of magical way for her to come back to me, but I'd have to keep it a secret from the rest of the world, like in some sort of dark comedy. You can imagine my breakdown tearful reaction to the pilot for Pushing Daisies, right? (Seriously, I would have made that deal.) But somehow waking up from that dream made me feel happy to have gotten to see her again, even briefly.

At the risk of sounding completely insane, I will say that I think our furry friends visit in dreams after they pass. I'm fairly certain that our one dog, Bubba, visited Boots almost every night in her dreams to play with her. She adored him, and went into a deep, deep depression after he died. (I can't think of anything more tragi-comic than a depressed Basset Hound.) Boots would frequently run and bark in her sleep -- I can only imagine that she was dreaming of playing with Bubba.

Anyway, I'm missing Dinah and Bootsie terribly again/still.

Time to put on some sunglasses and go for a run.

A Trip to the M.D.

I spent Sunday afternoon in Matt Damon therapy (aka: Bourne Ultimatum). It must've worked, because I managed to go for a 20-minute run last night. It felt good to get out, get moving. I'm a week behind on the marathon plan, but since it has a three-week taper, I'll just cut one and do the rest from the beginning.

Yesterday, Rocky was out on the deck while I mowed the lawn...and talked to him out loud about Dinah. My neighbors must think I'm nuts. In just under six weeks, I've become The Crazy Dog Lady of the trailer park.

Tomorrow, I'm headed to Colorado to spread some of Dinah's ashes with the person who gave her to me. I think it will bring some much-needed closure, but mostly I am looking forward to getting a hug from someone who knows me -- and knew her.

So, I'm still going to be spotty on blogging/commenting...I hope to be back to full power next week.

I'll Miss You, Little Girl

Dinah

(2004-2007)

I feel so much sorrow right now, I can barely type. I love this little dog and I'm going to miss her so much. She had a long weekend of seizures with no recovery...and I finally had to make the most impossible decision I've ever had to make.

Dog Days of Summer

Here's one to help us shake the last of the doldrums...

Unsolved Mystery


Why, oh why, are these two dogs smooshed together on this pillow? I have bought each of them beds large enough to hold them individually. In fact, The Boots (right) has a luxurious new crate just for her. Why is she tolerating Rocky's sidling (left)?

What on earth is going on here?

Mystery Solved

Oh. I see. Tiny McGee (aka Dinah) strikes again.

I. Don't. Like. This.

And neither does The Boots.

Last night, I had to go to the storm shelter.

Yup. The sirens were going off, the news had a call-in report that a funnel cloud touched down less than a mile from my house (the newscasters seemed pretty skeptical, but I wasn't going to push it).

Also, they said, "If you are in a mobile home, get out and to a safe place immediately."

Needless to say, it was another rough night.

Windows of Opportunity

Oy. What a night.

From Accuweather.com:
Another Night of Storms
7/17/2007 2:35 PM The storm system that hammered the central Plains on Monday will produce strong thunderstorms across the Upper Midwest tonight.

Hammered is a good way to put it. I was up 'til 1am with Boots and her thunderstorm anxiety. I don't know if the thunder here is louder, or if my strong, sturdy house with a foundation in New Mexico did a better job of muffling the sound than my confidence-shaking mobile home.

Either way, even I got a little ansty last night, getting through my first tornado watch (we had them in New Mexico, too, but I think they mean it here in Iowa).

Then I got in a little nap until 4am, when the storming started all over again.

Another nap from 11:30 until 1:30. I took advantage of the break in the storm to get Boots to the vet for some stronger medication (like Alprazolam). Benadryl just isn't going to cut it.

I also took advantage of the brief sun to sneak in a 12-mile bike ride.

Okay, that's not me.

But that's pretty much what my route looks like. Corn, corn, corn. I did the same loop as last Monday, only backwards. It smelled of wet poop (cow, dog, pig, who knows?) the WHOLE way.

A shower and another nap from 8-9.

The storms are supposed to start again at midnight tonight and go on until Friday morning.

So here's the thing: along with naps I snuck a bike ride into my day? I might turn this leaf over yet.

Where Am I?

Tell Me Again Why I'm A Dog Person

On a regular day, Bootsie's jowls collect drool, chewed up food, and oh yeah, drool. It gets nice and stale in there so when she shakes her head later, she can launch little strings of slobber onto the walls and across her nose. It also makes greetings, shall we say, bittersweet.

Her jowls also rub up against her ears and coat them with a nice glue...which, come bath time, presents a hardened mystery goo on the inside ridge of her ears that does NOT come off easily and makes me dry heave just thinking about it.

But here's the thing. Basset Hounds were bred for hunting and tracking. That explains the short legs, but what good would it do to have this dog keep its snout to the ground for a few miles only to have it emerge with about three tons of mud (if you're lucky) collected on its lips AND happy to see you?

Allright, here's where this is coming from: We had LOUD thunderstorms last night...which wouldn't have bothered me except that it made Boots SUPER drooly, whiny, shaky, and climby. Since I was already asleep as this storm brewed, I couldn't give her a pre-emptive Benadryl (which is about the only way it works)...so I awoke to her clawing me and licking my face, and utterly inconsolable.

Meanwhile, Dinah had yet another seizure yesterday morning. And Rocky, who ate about $250 worth of my shoes PLUS both of my parents' couches when I first got him, has a tremor that has spread from his front left paw throughout his body and has recently emerged in his mouth -- making him chatter his teeth intermittently throughout the day. Oh yeah, and he recently ate the front off of MY sofa because his ball got trapped under there. Still, he is the Good One.

So what does this have to do with training?

I have no idea. But I have a lot of frustration to work off today.

Bring Your Epileptic Dog to Work Day

Well, it's finals week. Things are winding down, I'm getting my grades done and turned in. Hardly anyone is around. It would be bliss, except...

Dinah had another seizure this morning, her first in a few weeks. This meant I had to give her the heavy meds (she's come to think that her daily phenobarbitol is a treat that only she gets -- hey, whatever it takes). Anyway, this other pill is so strong that I can only give her half without making her puke. Also, it makes her pretty incoherent, even for a dog, so I don't like to leave her alone (or with the other two rowdy dogs who are two- and four times her size).

So she got to come to work with me today. If there was ever a reason I've chosen academia for my career (aside from the bitchin' vacation time -- oh yeah, and shaping the minds of tomorrow), it is moments like this one. I'm at work with a little dog on my lap while I blog away. This beats the Dilbert life any day.

For the record, all of my actual tasks are done, I just have to sit here for my office hours and be available for the stream of students who will not show up.

*pauses for a visitor*

Hey, whattaya know? As soon as I typed that sentence, one showed up. No foolin'. So I guess I'd better go!