dogma

Happy New Year!  Lola’s top 10 resolutions for 2011:  

1. In leash-free situations, resist the urge to bolt.
2. Be kinder to Ace, Missy, Roxy and other doggies; don’t growl or nip at ears and elbows.
3. Only perform the chase my tail dance when I have to go peeps.
4. Always come when mommy calls.
5. What happens on the puppy pad, stays on the puppy pad.
6. Stay in my car seat during road trips.
7. Learn to get down from the bed on my own.
8. Try to entertain myself at mom’s friends’ houses.
9. Sit AND stay.
10. Sustain cuteness factor – always.

tryptophan-shymptophan

It is 2:38 a.m. Friday morning after Thanksgiving.  Lola and I had a lovely turkey day, albeit rather gloomy and cold.  First, we slept until 9 a.m.  Then, by the time I could coax Lola off the bed – and away from her ritual game of psych where I reach for her and she dodges me by burrowing under the covers or racing around the pillows like they were bases – she had to pee like a race horse!

I put on my winter coat and wrapped Lola into her Martha Stewart tweed jacket, and off we went with a coffee cake for our neighbors, Ace’s mom and dad.  I always have to briskly nudge Lola past Ace’s house to the parkway and remind her of her urge to pee.  Her excitement at visiting Ace seems to cause instant amnesia.

After a brief visit, we headed home to make coffee, breakfast, and then settled in to watch the parade and dog show until I got a text from my brother that he would pick us up at 2:30 p.m. to head down to our sister’s for the feast.  OMG!  It was 1:23 and I had to shower.  Lola was still napping on my lap.  Sorry baby – gotta move, and she begrungingly jumped down and went around my chair to her pillow – continuing her afternoon siesta.

So, all showered and primped, I packed up our stuff and tried to get Lola out for a walk before the car ride – it was about 2:25 p.m.  I figured she had to go after being inside since that morning.  Nope.  She’d have nothing of it.  Lola was cold and she wanted back in the house.  Okay.  [Heavy Sigh]

The “bus” arrived right on time, and we trekked the hour south.  After disembarking, Lola and I strolled the neighborhood to be sure she was “empty” before heading into my sister’s home for dinner.  The evening progressed and Lola made several trips outside, much to the delight of my siblings and my nephew who even took her for me a few times.

It was 10 p.m. before we loaded up and headed home.  Lola was trashed.  She went immediately to her pillow.  I watched TV until midnight, and then headed to bed, tossing and turning, TV on/TV off.  Then, about 2:15 a.m. Lola came into the room and wanted up on the bed.  She lay at the foot where she normally does.  I was watching Iron Chef at this point and glancing at the clock again, I shut off the TV and tried to sleep again. 

For whatever reason, Lola tip-toed up towards me and snuggled into my right side.  I turned onto my left side and she drew closer.  Okay, now I’m hot and I don’t need a little heater up against my skin.  I gave up, got up, and came out to the computer.

So, here I sit, 2:56 p.m. wondering why that damn tryptophan only worked on Lola.  By the way, I can hear her snoring in the other room!

Subconscious Sabbotage and Martha Stewart’s Fall Collection

It’s getting chilly again.  This morning, I threw on my coat and took Lola out for her morning walk.  There was a little frosty glaze on the grass as she romped across the back, hedging along the bushes.  I could see my breath and realized that while the sun was shining, my suede booted feet were not penetrated by the damp cold of the grass.

Poor Lola.  Even though she looked perfectly happy scampering from one smell to another, marking here and there, I eventually noticed that she was shivering.  Her latest puppy cut seemed a bit shortner than usual on her body, and I did buy her a new fall coat.  But in our haste to “make waste” I wrapped up, but forgot to do the same for her – bad Mommy.

Before you think the worst of me, let me share that Lola’s new coat is from the Martha Stewart line at Petsmart.  It’s a little tan, tweed Herringbone number that has a smart collar and faux belt.  And the best thing is that it Velcros around her neck and belly for easy on and off.  Martha, it’s a very good thing.

So, how could I have forgotten to dress my little girl against the cold this morning?  Could I subconsciously be trying to sabbotage my little one’s cuteness?  Early morning walks leave me greeting the day in a less than ravishing way – bed head and all.  Even on my best days, Lola out-cutes me!  Now, in her Martha Stewart tastefully tailored jacket, need I say more?

Adorable, with or without that wrap!

Howloween Hoochie

I was having a discussion with some colleagues about the progressive theme in women’s Halloween costumes. That being the phenomena of slutty vs. scary. It seems you put “sexy” in front of any noun and you have a costume for the more tawdry – Sexy Nurse, Sexy Pirate, Sexy Whatever, and you get micro mini skirts over garters and stockings, plunging necklines and belly buttons revealed. Halloween has officially become the holiday where good girls can go bad – at least for the day.

And, it’s infiltrating children’s costumes too! When did this happen? One article I read was pretty much blaming it on the Gay movement. Once those darn Gays hijacked Halloween, it became all about T & A, as opposed to ghosts and gobblins.

Sigh.

So, what’s a gal to do when you got a Howloween costume contest at Doggie Daycare, and you’re much too modest to show your goodies?

Geisha Girl Lola won third place:

She was robbed!

It’s a dog’s life

You know that feeling of watching the scenery out of the window of a speeding car?  That’s how I feel the days fly into weeks.  And everyday is full of Lola. 

I am fortunate to have a wonderful doggie daycare to watch over my little one as I head to the office, now 4 days a week. 

Our weekends are filled with walks, the first between 7:15 and 8:00 a.m., patrolling the periphery of the complex.  Lola doesn’t really care to go out back – the grass is still dewy and she gingerly tip toes along the edge, over neighbor patios.  So, we’ve taken to heading out the front door.  Usually, Lola bolts right at the end of the walk, but this weekend, out the door and left.  What is it that stimulates the willful decisions she confidently makes.  No one is out that early on the weekend. 

Back home after the obligatory peeps and hopefully poop.  She get a treat and we make breakfast, which lately, Lola has been ignoring – teenagers!  Morning naps for Lola have become the norm while I empty the dishwasher, do a load of laundry, take a bath, or read the Sunday paper.

Yesterday, Lola went to the Corner Barkery and used the gift certificate from her buddy Ace and his folks, Jack and Pam.  There was an adorable taco costume that nearly jumped into my arms, but I held back.  I constantly call Lola my puppy burrito.  It was hilarious – it just folds around her belly and fastens on the top.  But Lola already has a lovely kimono to wear for Halloween.  So, we spent the $25 on treats and poop bags.

Today, we headed back to the dog park and met Nigel, a Boston Terrier.  He wanted to dominate Lola and she would have any of it.  She remained distant and aloof, beckoning me to the gate.  I succumbed.

Sunday afternoon nap – doesn’t get any better than that.  And then, Ace came calling.  Lola was almost hospitable.  Ace’s dad and I had a glass of wine and then we went for a walk – the final one of the day.

She’s sleeping now.  What life – sleep, walk, eat, poop, give kisses, chase squirrels, be adored by all.  That’s my life – with Lola.

Party poochie

Busy weekend for Lola and me – well, for me, actually.  By default then, it’s busy for Lola too.  Mommy’s on a schedule so Lola needs to fall in step.  This can be trying for a terrier with her own agenda.  Lola gets the residual attention, however, and this is highly in her favor.

Yesterday, my friend, Kathryn, was in town and I met her for lunch.  It was a gloomy, rainy morning, and Miss Thing doesn’t “do” rain.  She did her obligatory peep in the morning, but ran briskly back to the house until the drips stopped, and she could take a proper walk, just before I left the house.  Then, she got bizzy with her Kong as I slipped out for lunch. 

Afterwards, Kathryn and the others came back to the house to visit Miss Lola.  Then, the party started.  Of course, Lola was the center of attention, delighting the visitors with her ability to fetch and tug on her toys and then tease each person by dropping the little ball or teddy bear, but snatching it quickly as they reached for it.  Clever girl.

Lola did her circus act, jumping high, chasing invisible throws (not cool, Larry!), and rolling over on her back to allow her fans to rub her little belly.  Then, it was over, and Lola was stuck with Mommy – alone.  We took a nap.

Later, Mommy had to leave again for a concert at the Chicago Theater, so it was going to be a long, lonely night.  But Neighbors Cheryl and Vicky saved the day.  They generously came over just before 8 p.m. and took Lola on a long walk around the neighborhood.  Lola ran, and rolled down the grassy hills in the back, and then was treated to having the station changed so she could listen to Ke$ha (neighbor Cheryl said she prefers that music to what was playing).  I had a lovely note when I retuned giving me all this information and more – apparently Lola has peeped and pooped my name – that’s what Neighbor Cheryl wrote.

Now, THAT’s a party!

fight or flee

We used to love the dog park.  Lola is always the littlest dog with the biggest attitude and there really was never any question who was alpha – even running with the big dogs at the park.  The other dogs’ parents seem very responsible and actively oversee their canine behavior.  There have been scraps, but typically a human steps in and diffuses the potential dog fight.

Lola doesn’t like being sniffed by the bigger dogs, and she has made herself clear by growling and snapping at the offending intruder.  Sometimes that mere act of self-defense escalates into a scary sounding exchange, at which point, I swoop Lola up in my arms, away from the larger dogs.  Lola always seemed unfazed … until a couple weeks ago.

Lola and I went to the dog park with Ace and his daddy, neighbor Jack.  It’s a two gate entry system where you come through into a holding pen and unleash your dog before opening the inside gate to the park.  All the inside dogs run to welcome the newly arrived pooches, in this case, Lola and Ace.

There was only one dog inside on this day.  His owner stood watching from a distance as I slowly opened the inside gate.  Somehow, Lola felt threatened and began to growl and snap at the dog on the other side of the gate.  Ace was still on his leash behind us.  All of a sudden, that other dog’s mouth was around Lola’s little torso.  I don’t remember if I pulled the other dog away from her, but it eventually backed away and Lola ran back inside the holding pen.  She wanted no part of that venue, for sure.  Jack and Ace went inside and I tried to coax Lola to come, but no luck.

The dog’s owner – a burly looking man in overalls – just stood there.  He never came to attend to his dog; I never heard him call.  Later, Jack mentioned he didn’t say much to him either.

I leashed Lola again and we walked outside the dog park and I noticed that “Mr. Greenjeans” and his dog were leaving.  We went back inside, but Lola was a reluctant visitor.  Eventually, she peed everywhere, but seemed to hang back, closer to the gate.

Last weekend, I observed the same reluctant behavior in Lola.  Today, she hopped into the car and pawed the window as we got closer to the park.  Lols  couldn’t wait to get out of the car.  I leased her and she lept from my lap to the pavement, bolted for the grassy birm and pulled me towards the street. 

As we crossed over, Lola  stopped and sniffed the air. A man with two yellow labs came up behind and passed us.  Lola didn’t pay much attention to them, but I seemed to have to coax her towards the dog park.  Half way there, she stopped and sniffed again, then did an about face and headed back to the car. 

There was no hesitation on her part.  Lola meant business and the dog park was not in the cards today.

I’m really bummed.  The dog park’s the only place I’ve been able to let her off leash, but no more.  Lola’s safety is more important than anything and I trust her instinct.  How could I ever put this precious little munchkin in harm’s way and risk never waking up to this image again?

tear – e – or

Lola is part Maltese and part Yorkshire Terrier – Terrier being the primary influence in her personality, I think.  At least from what others have shared, and my just over 1 year experience with the little beastie, she is all terrier.  From Lola’s endless energy to her defiant attitude, everyone thinks she’s a Yorkie, rather than the designer breed, Morkie.

The way Lola “plays” is rough.  She has a throaty little growl that sounds pretty mean, and she nips at anything she can – pants, ears, fingers, toes – whatever is available when she wants to play.  Take last night.  I went to my nephew’s wedding, so Miss Lola was alone for several hours.  To my delight, she bounds down the stairs when I come through the door, effusive in her circus dog antics, jumping to give me a high ten, as if to say, “Yay, you’re home!  I missed you so much!”

Quickly, I put the leash on her and take her out the back door to peep.  She obediantly complies, but enroute back inside, something overtakes Lola. Maybe it’s the excitement of getting a treat for doing her business, but she will start growling and nipping at my legs, the tops of my feet, and my toes.  If I stop short and firmly say, “No!”, Lola sits back and starts barking at me, like I’m still playing.  I’ve taken to shuffling into the kitchen, but to give her a treat then would be rewarding bad behavior.  Once in the kitchen, I firmly summon her (if she’s not already by my feet) and command her to sit and stay.  If her bottom stays on the floor for a second, that’s a good stay – I succumb to Lola’s charm and give her the treat.

Okay, so this morning, I’m on the floor with my girl playing tug with her stuffed Teddy.  The requisite growling began.  I tug, she growls, and the cycle progresses.  All of a sudden, Teddy’s head flies off and Lola starts pulling the white, gauzey stuffing out.

Lola puts the tear in terrier!

The Severed Head

Lola vs. the Locust

I find this disgusting.  Lola loves, loves, loves to pounce on a locust in it final hours.  It is a game of cat and mouse – I’ve seen it all before when felines were the pets I formerly lavished with my affection.  This sort of gives credence to my brother, Curt’s orignal comment when he met Lola the first time, “She’s a cat!”  He said that because of her size, still a petite package, coming in under 6 pounds.  Hell, my cats weighed at least 12 pounds each.  But I digress …

Lola finds them.  Nose to the ground, sniffing each blade of grass for a hint of something smelly she can roll around in, or eat. Before I know it, she’s scooped up something in her mouth and headed in the opposite direction of me, thinking she’s invisible at the other end of the 25 ft. lead.  It buzzes, she drops it on the sidewalk to investigate.  The dance begins.  It’s not quite yet dead.  The last bit of energy the locust generates is its futile attempt to fly away from this predator.  Lola is delighted. She paws it, goes to sniff it, it flutters, she jumps back, then forward, and ultimately chomps down, silencing the buzzing wings for good.

Eeeeeewwwww!  I know this is the law of the jungle, nature’s way, survival of the fittest.  It’s just gross, that’s all.  And, kinda sick that I allow this ritual to continue, but seriously, would you try to take a locust out of your dog’s mouth?

Lola – 3, Locusts – 0.

Pawjamma Party

My life with Lola has been a busy one this summer. Lola turned two years old August 8th and we had a party complete with pupcakes from the Corner Barkery for Lola and her sometimes boyfriend, Ace.

Lola and Ace are not exactly a love story. Even though Lola marches out the door and heads straight to the house on the front corner – Ace’s house – and climbs the stairs to be let in, it’s really Ace’s dad, Jack, who Lola wants to see.

Then, she tortures Ace – chasing him around his own home, nipping at his beautiful ears and his poor knees. But this is how she plays. Ace is not amused.

Well, Ace’s parents went away this weekend and he came for a sleep over with Lola.  Fun for all, right?  Not so much. Ace is a nervous sort, and really missed his mommy and daddy.  Even though we had a few walks and treats, and lots of pets and love from Lola’s mommy, Ace showed his appreciation by dropping a deuce in my bedroom that night, and again at the top of the stairs the next day. Thanks, Ace.

I don’t think Lola was too keen on the visit either. Even though Ace is pretty passive for the most part, he is definitely a food stealer.  It takes Lola a bit of time to finish a chewy treat, like a delicious dried sweet potato fry or moo stick.  Ace swoops in after devouring his own treat and chomps down on Lola’s share while she is still chewing her little bite. Not cool, Ace.

We went to bed rather early so everyone could calm down. Ace is a restless sleeper and at one point Lola and Ace woke me up, both barking.  I sat up and found both of them at attention, staring out the bedroom door - creepy!  It was storming that night, so I chalked it up to the wind. If there were spirits visiting, no offense. Anyway, after we all settled back in, I woke up Saturday spooning Ace.

Then, Uncle Larry visited Saturday morning and I was grateful for the extra set of hands to take them both for a walk.  When I attempted the dual walk the night before, it was hilarious  – Lola running 25 feet ahead on her retractable leash and Ace zig-zagging in front of me on his 5 ft. leash.  A Madison Avenue dog walker got nothing on me! Did I mention it was 101 degrees and full humidity? Ugh.

Back into the air conditioning, but Ace was scratching at the patio door.  Okay, buddy, out you go on the lead that’s  anchored into the ground, and not anytime too soon. Ace had the squirts – all over the lawn out back. Thank God! When I confirmed he was empty, only then could he come back into the house.

This has been a very long weekend. I guess a good idea in concept doesn’t always play out  in reality. I wouldn’t say I’m actually counting down the minutes to a happy farewell, but rest assured, Lola won’t be having another pawjamma partyanytime soon again.