How Daisy Says “I Love You”

It’s those tender little moments between human and dog when you know you’re feeling the exact same thing.

Love.

Those special little moments when Daisy climbs up on my lap, ears limp, eyes big, tail wagging. She looks up at me with those big brown eyes, so soft and loving that it floods me with warmth. I become mush.

She cuddles on my lap, curling herself up into a tight little ball, nestled perfectly. Then she puts her head into the crook of my arm as I hug her, her paw on top of my arm as if to say, “Don’t ever let go.”

I give her a light squeeze and tell her Mommy will always love her. She tenderly looks up into my eyes for a long time, as if understanding the sentiment and returning it in the only way she knows how.

She rests her head on my chest, getting as close as she can get. I stroke her gently with my cheek on her head, and she sighs, long and deep.

There’s nothing in the world like the love of a dog.

Monday Mischief – Daisy Says, “Sock It To Me!”

Remember Daisy’s little quirk about having to topple high heeled shoes over? Well, her next favorite thing in the world is…. socks. (She has a lot in common with our buddy Snoopy!)

Lookee Mommy – I found treasure!

Worn socks are her favorite, but she’ll take anything she can grab. When we have the laundry basket out, she LOVES catching a sock as it’s tossed into the basket. You’ve never seen a happier dog!

Umm, why are you staring at me? Am I not supposed to have this?

I’ll just look away and pretend not to notice you. But don’t touch my sock.

I’ll just settle down and get to work on this sock. This thing’s mine now.

Think I’ll take a break from all that sock work….but I’m not letting go for a second!

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Monday Mischief: Headless Daisy (Don’t Panic!) ;)

Back from our week-long absence – we sure did miss our blogging buddies!

For the sake of keeping in theme with Mischief Monday, we could say that Daisy is either doing her impression of the Headless Horseman or playing a late April Fool joke on us by making her head “disappear”.  But in fact, this is just silly little Daisy being silly little Daisy.

DH took a cell phone picture of our silly little girl in her favorite “headless” pose – stretched the length of his lap, arms stiff in her “hands-up-or-I’ll-shoot” pose, and her head dangling past his knees, out of sight (and he’s TALL!).

Mind you, she’s so comfortable like this, that she’s actually ASLEEP!

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

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Unspoken Signals

One of my favorite blogging buddies, Nala’s Dog Days, (another Havachon blog!! Woohoo!!) recently did a post called Learning By Doing, where she talks about the ways her adorable Havachon, Nala, has learned things without any training.

This got me thinking about the unspoken signals we give our dogs, and the way they’re always paying attention even when we think they’re not (just like kids!).

My last dog used to respond to “Do you….” at the start of any sentence because she knew it preceded “….want to go OUT?” Similarly, the word “out” raised her ears and got her all excited. So we started avoiding the “do you” phrase and spelling “out” anytime we used it: “Could you take the dinner plates o-u-t?” Well that only worked for a couple of months, because she then recognized the spelling of the word, since we began saying, “Are you ready to take Mugsie o-u-t?” We then started saying it in French, but realized in short order that she’d pick up on it even if we said it in Martian, as long as we said it right before taking her o-u-t.

Daisy knows the nap signal – when I sit down at my computer in the morning, it’s time for Daisy to hit Big Blue or the couch with the fleece throws. She knows I’ll be busy working for a while, so she settles in for a cozy morning snooze.

It's only 9 AM and I've accomplished so much already - stretching, eating, playing, jumping, racing - I think I deserve a nap.

Then there’s the unspoken dinner signal – when Daisy hears the evening news come on, she jumps up and stares holes in me, pacing expectantly.

Dinner time dinner time dinner time dinner time----

In the kitchen, we have a few different unspoken signals. Early in the morning, when Daisy sees me push in the end chair, she knows I’m going to open the blinds to her Window on the World (the sliding glass doors). The minute I put my hand on that chair, she trots quickly to the edge of the doors, ears perked in anticipation of the Grand Opening.

Look! There's my squirrel buddy! I wonder who else will be paying me a visit?

On the other hand, when she sees me put my hand on the oven door, her ears go down and she runs into the next room – this is a throwback to the Great Scone Incident. Never will she ever forget the havoc she caused, and the oven door opening still signals d-a-n-g-e-r to her.

Are you opening any time soon? I need to know so I can run away....

Now we have the Snack Signal – when Daisy hears me peeling carrots for our dinner salad, she trots expectantly into the kitchen….she knows that a small chunk of carrot has her name on it!

And, of course, there’s the Bath Signal, when DH struts into the room and says “OK” in a particular tone, then follows it with a rhetorical “Where’s Daisy”. That’s her signal to look maniacally for a hiding place, and if there isn’t one, to roll submissively onto her back, ears down, eyes open to their widest, and little licks with her tongue. It pathetically screams, “Please, please, please NO BATH!!”

Ahahahaha! You can't reach me when I'm in my cave!

Have you noticed any unspoken signals that your dog responds to?

We’ll be a bit scarce next week – we have family staying with us all week from out of state (Daisy will be thrilled!). We’ll try to pop in and visit our blogging buddies whenever we can, otherwise we’ll see you May 1!

Monday Mischief – What’s Really “Bugging” Daisy?

Well bug season isn’t wasting any time getting an early start here in the northeast – what can we expect when it hits 90 degrees in April?! Mosquitoes, bees and other creepy crawlies that we shouldn’t be seeing in such quantities yet emerged back in March, and they’re (unfortunately) bigger than ever. We’re also hearing that it’s going to be a record year for ticks – wonderful, just wonderful. I’ve already been through a bout of Lyme disease, I don’t relish the possibility of going through it again.

So today’s mischief is being played upon Daisy, rather than by Daisy. See, Daisy doesn’t quite see buggies the same way I do. She finds them to be quite fun – it’s like they’re playing a game of Catch Me If You Can as the flying bugs zip past her and the chase is on: bugs buzzing, Daisy snapping at them.

Well this gigantic mosquito decided to tease Daisy from a safe place – the other side of the glass door. He must have observed that big black cat last week and decided it would be safe to taunt her from a fraction of an inch away, as long as there was thick double-pane glass between them!

Hey! What's this thing on my door?!

The mosquito blends in a bit with the concrete behind it, but just look up a bit from Daisy’s nose – see the l-o-n-g legs attached to a thin body?

::Snap snap!:: I'll get you yet!

When snapping didn’t do the trick, nor did it scare the mosquito away, Daisy started trying to lick her way through the glass.

::sigh:: I better stock up on glass cleaner this summer!

We’re in the Monday Mischief Blog Hop! Check it out and see what other fun pets have been up to!

Monday Mischief – What Daisy Doesn’t Know…..

….won’t hurt US!

Today the mischief-making is on another foot – a black cat.

This cat is a Halloween cat if ever there was one – jet black with glowing yellow eyes.

He’s one of two very large cats (bigger than 15-pound Daisy) that roam our neighborhood freely and cause lots of shrub loss and other problems.

Big Blue must have lulled Daisy into something of a lazy stupor, because she never saw – or even sensed – the BIG black cat you see just outside the door behind her, staring at her.

Had Daisy seen him SO close to her, our door probably would have been history.

This cat used our outdoor mat as a clawing post, then stared inside (probably wondering why he couldn’t get a rise out of Daisy!), then turned, raised his tail and shoved his behind against the screen door…and let loose a stream of spray. Talk about insolence!!

Cat: Hmmm...she's not noticing me....think I'll just find me a good spot to spray. That'll teach her to ignore me!

We’re part of the Monday Mischief Blog Hop! Click on the link to find lots of other mischievous pets!

Monday Mischief – Taking Liberties

Apparently there’s a page in every pup’s built-in Doggy Handbook that states: “Whenever your human allows you to go somewhere you’re normally not allowed, you forever and always have the right to access that place at will. Once humans give you an inch, they have forfeited all rights to refusal.”

I’m sure it says that because Daisy has taken that page to heart; she lives her life by it. It has become part of The Gospel According to Daisy.

Here’s one example.

We don’t spend much time in our living room; the family room is where we usually go to read, watch TV, etc. The living room has become more of a space used for larger party overflow. Consequently, Daisy has never had any interest in the chairs or sofa in there.

Until DH, for some reason, decided to read a book in there and he invited Daisy up on the couch to sit with him. After that, the couch became Daisy’s territory, presumably when she wants a change of scenery or when we’re all at different ends of the house and she wants to plant herself centrally to watch the comings and goings.

Why do you look so surprised? You're the one who invited me up here in the first place!

A couple of weeks later, DH was waiting for DD and me to get ready so we could all go out together. He sat in the white wing-back chair and put Daisy on his lap. A few days later, I lost Daisy in the house again. Turns out she was sitting in that chair – watching me run around the house like a nut, calling her name and looking for her – with an expression of total amusement on her face.

That chair has now been added to Daisy’s ever-growing list of home hangouts.

Caught! I'll just freeze here - maybe she'll think I'm a toy....

I'll just sit down slowly and overpower her with my hypnotic stare....

Ah ha ha! I win!

Moral of the story: Give a Havachon one little liberty, and she’ll assume control of the entire house!

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Monday Mischief – An Act of Rebellion

Don’t let her sweetness and cute face fool you – when push comes to shove, Daisy can rebel like a 16 year old teenager.

But I'm so innocent!

We’re getting ready to have our kitchen redone.

The wallpaper has been stripped.

We’re in the process of selecting a cabinet maker (an exhausting task). And then a granite fabricator.

Then DH will paint the walls (I have no clue what color to choose) and tile the backsplash (again, a big blank so far). This is a full-blown p-r-o-j-e-c-t that will take many months of Saturdays.

We got the first estimate a few weeks ago. The company rep came out to the house to measure and give his pitch. Which was laughable, by the way – he’s coming in over $7,000 ABOVE everyone else for lesser-grade materials. :<O

He was here for FOUR HOURS. Daisy absolutely refused to behave, so we had to put her in our bedroom and close the door. I don’t like doing that, but we had no choice. At least it’s a big room and we put all her toys, blankets, and water in there.

After some initial complaints, she finally realized her high-pitched “you-can’t-do-this-to-me” yapping and whining wasn’t getting her anywhere and she quieted down.

So the guy finally left around 5:00 – without, I might add, a signed contract. Nor did he get a call back. But his quote sure is making all the other cabinet makers sound great. And they’re offering us way more for the money.

Anyway, as soon as DH closed the front door behind Mr. Big Bucks, I opened the bedroom door and Daisy tore out, once again underscoring her nickname of The Blur. She sniffed for half an hour – every step the guy had taken, every place he’d stood. It really brought out her Inner Hound.

Everything seemed to go back to normal after that….until….

I walked through the kitchen, through the dining room, down the hall….back up the hall, back through the dining room….and then I saw IT….

Daisy had planted a Poop Bomb right smack in the middle of the doorway between the dining room and kitchen. (I’ll spare you the photo!) She set a trap for me, the little dickens. I think this was her retaliation for being closed in the bedroom for so long.

Oh, so you found my little surprise, did you? Maybe you'll think twice before removing me from all the action!

Next thing you know she’ll be shopping for her clothes at Hot Topic with all the other rebellious teens.

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Dogs, Guinea Pigs, Turtles – What’s In A Name?

Some might say “nothing”. A rose by any other name….etc.

I’m not so sure though. Every time you hear of a child named Damien, everyone cringes and jokes that the name has carved out his destiny. Ridiculous – absolutely, no question.

Yet it seems different when it comes to the pets we’ve had. All of our pets were named as babies, before their personalities really emerged. And each one seemed to reflect their name.

A few examples, for your consideration.

We got two little red-eared slider turtles at the same time. DD, who was an English Literature major at the time, has a flair for the dramatic when naming pets. The first name she chose for one turtle was Diamedes. Sounds to me like an ancient warrior….and he was. He was king of the tank. He dominated the basking island. When we cleaned the tank, we’d put him in a large open box so he wouldn’t get lost – he zipped around that box more like the hare than the turtle, and he’d climb up the sides using those long, sharp claws like grappling hooks. When he’d fall, he’d flip back over and do it again and again and again until he finally made it over the top. Diamedes was one determined little warrior.

Can't find our photos right now, so here's a little red-eared slider via Wikipedia.

The other turtle was named Wilbur – we still can’t figure out why DD chose such a pedestrian name when she always leans toward Shakespearean names and names that sound like they came out of classic novels or pre-18th century English courts. But anyway, Wilbur it was. And he was a Wilbur in contrast to tough Diamedes – he let Diamedes literally climb all over him – if Wilbur was on the basking island first, Diamedes would just climb on top of Wilbur like a turtle totem pole. If there was one dried shrimp between them, he let Diamedes have it. We had to feed him separately sometimes just to make sure he ate!

Then we had guinea pigs. One was named Cinnamon, a mild spice. Cinnamon was quiet and mild. If you sat on a chair with her in your lap, Cinnamon would scurry up your sleeve and hide in there or climb up your arm and hide behind your neck, under your hair. And she’d stay there for as long as you’d let her. Sweet little mild Cinnamon.

Then there was Bessie. Bossy Bessie. Bessie pulled no punches. We couldn’t put her in the same cage as Cinnamon because she’d attack and dominate immediately. Bessie was loud and tough. She’d screech at Cinnamon, who was minding her own business in her own cage. If Bessie didn’t want to be picked up, she’d bite us. When she was ready to get off our laps, she’d bite us. Bossy Bessie. Ya gotta respect a critter who only weighs ounces but stands up and bullies 100+ pound humans!

Image via Wikipedia

Not true to her name was Mugsie, but that’s because she had the wrong name. “Mugsie” sounds like it belongs to a boxer type, but she was our rescue Shepherd-Husky-Collie mix, the first dog DH and I got when we moved into our house. She was gentle, beautiful, sweet, and lackadaisical; her eyes were outlined in black that looked like Cleopatra’s eye liner. She adjusted to situations easily and liked everyone (except one neighbor, and I agreed with her! LOL) I wanted to name her Kima (pronounced Keema) or some other exotic sounding name, but DH, who never had a dog before, had his heart set on Mugsie for some reason. So Mugsie it was. But she was Kima at heart.

Mugsie, the first pet of our married life.

And now there’s Daisy. Named before her personality formed, while she was still a frightened little furball hiding under the coffee table. We picked the name because of a line Meg Ryan said in “You’ve Got Mail”, when Tom Hanks brings her a bouquet of daisies and Meg Ryan says that she thinks daisies are the happiest flowers.

Daisies, our pup's namesake.

We think they’re really pretty too, and they always make us smile. So Daisy it was. And now that frightened little furball is happy, sweet, pretty, and always makes us smile. She’s the most expressively loving pet we’ve ever had.

Daisy, our sweet baby.

Monday Mischief Backfire – Sometimes Silliness Just Doesn’t Pay

Daisy loves to race around the house like the silly little nut she is, especially if someone’s trying to catch her to give her a bath or put her harness on. Or sometimes for no reason at all.

She goes so fast that it looks like her back legs want to pass her front legs. I don’t think there’s even a camera speed that can stop that action!

Daisy racing in the snow last year. One of our friends has nicknamed her "The Blur".

The other day Daisy was curled up on my lap, and I was stroking her lightly. Very lightly. When my fingers ran over a spot on her left side, she made a small sound of complaint, and her entire side pulled in.

I’ve never seen her do that before. I thought maybe I’d hit a ticklish spot and it annoyed her. So I did it again just to see if it was a one-off. Nope. I did it a third time just to be sure. Each time, the same result. Anywhere else was fine, but that one spot bothered her.

Broken rib? But how could that have possibly happened?

Maybe it's weird, twisted sleeping positions like this that cause problems - ya think, Miss Daisy??

I mentioned it to DD, who solved the mystery.

Silly little Daisy had been racing around and around the coffee table in the family room when she cut the corner a little too tight one time and hit her side on the corner of a footstool we keep tucked underneath. DD said Daisy stopped in her tracks, looking a bit stunned, seemed to think about it for a second, then walked away.

I used to fit under here and zip around the corners with no problem....did the table shrink??

Which just goes to prove – sometimes puppy mischief can backfire!

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