Everyday Adventures in Havachon Heaven

The Good, Crazy, & Adorable Life of One Havachon Puppy

Daisy’s Under-Bed Hideaway

When I originally posted about Daisy’s little under-the-bed game of hide-and-seek, I never expected it to become one of her favorite play areas!

Halt! Who goes there?

She especially likes it before the bed in the master bedroom is made, because the comforter is touching the floor; that, coupled with the dust ruffle creates the perfect 2-layer entry-exit shield into her under-bed hideaway.

It’s like Daisy’s own little speakeasy, except no one knows the password to get in. Daisy does her funny little army crawl into her private retreat, making these crazy little grumbling sounds as she shimmies around under there. She dodges a couple of  plastic storage bins (good thing the bed a California king – it gives her plenty of room!) and scratches at their sides in an apparent attempt to either open them up and inspect their contents or rearrange what has become her own personal space – maybe she’s an interior designer at heart!

Just to see what was going on, one day DD went underneath the bottom of the comforter and dust ruffle at the edge of the bed. She brought the camera with her:

HEY! You can't come in here, this is a private Havachon club!

 

 

HAHA! You can't find me!

 

I must say that Daisy is not a good speakeasy hostess! She definitely didn’t like the fact that DD had crashed her little one-dog party. She issued little mini barking complaints, little closed-mouths things that were even funnier than her under-bed antics. Apparently she likes her private space to remain private.

Now that was fun!

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Cats, cats, cats! Driving Daisy Crazy!

I’m on a rant today. And I know it’s not going to be popular with everyone.

We have a neighbor who adopts stray cats, feeds them, and lets them wander through the neighborhood. They have no collars or ID, and they are BIG. Really big. Much bigger than Daisy, who’s 15-20 pounds.

When those cats come by, I'll give them a piece of my mind!

They drive Daisy and other dogs in the area crazy (who in turn drive their owners crazy) when they saunter through our yards, casting narrow-eyed glances that carry an attitude akin to thumbing their noses at these poor dogs. Meanwhile, the dogs are going ballistic barking and lunging at windows and glass doors as these cats meander along, stalking birds and chipmunks, and engaging our frenzied dogs in staring contests.

And when I say these cats are BIG, I mean you could easily mistake them for small cougars. It’s freaky.

They also pee all over everyone’s landscaping, killing bushes left and right. They brazenly come up to sliding glass doors, peering in as if hoping to get more food, even though they’re fat as pigs. We can’t even leave our sliding glass doors open because our dogs might literally rip through the screen doors to get at these cats.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love animals and I believe in animal rights for any and all creatures (except spiders….yuck). It’s not the cats’ fault, it’s the owner’s. I believe that if you have cats, you should take as much responsibility for them as dog owners take for their pets. We don’t let our dogs poop in other people’s yards, so why should we have to clean up cat poop?

I have a friend with 4 cats and a cousin with 6 cats. Neither of them allows their cats to wander the neighborhoods. My friend keeps her cats indoors, and my cousin has a small area outside with super-high fencing that the cats can’t climb. She planned it out so there are no trees they can use as ladders either. That’s what I’m talking about – responsibility for their pets and respect for their neighbors.

Even the Taunting Squirrel isn't as bad as Daisy's reaction to the cats.

Several years ago, one neighbor circulated a petition to have this inconsiderate neighbor keep her cats restricted to her property. Everyone, and I mean everyone, signed it, and within a couple of months, the cats were no longer to be seen. Now there’s a new batch.

I might add that this inconsiderate neighbor’s house is the armpit of the area. Everyone here takes pride in the appearance of their properties….all except her. Both inside and out is a pigsty.

Her carpets are urine-stained. When the cats are indoors, she lets them sleep in pots in her kitchen cabinets, and I’ve seen her use those pots directly after chasing a cat out, without even washing it first. That was years ago, before I realized what a terrible person she was. I certainly haven’t been in there since. Oh, I could tell you stories that go far beyond the cat issue and border on the criminal….

Anyway, I don’t want to punish the cats for the inconsideration of their owner. Does anyone know of a way to deter cats from coming into a yard (our yards are big – about an acre) or at least a way to keep them away from landscape bushes and plants?

Rant officially over. For now.

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Daisy’s Weekend Injury

It scared me nearly out of my skin. Daisy’s first injury.

Well that certainly didn't feel too good....

I know, I know, I sound like a new mom who freaks out over every little boo-boo her baby gets. Well, maybe I am. But this was scary.

Daisy is a very happy, exuberant puppy. And she likes to release all that exuberance by jumping up in the air, with all four paws off the ground, sometimes spinning in mid-air. We’re trying to break her of that; no one likes to visit a house where a dog is jumping all over you. Especially if you’re wearing a skirt and stockings.

Even worse, we could see the physical risk her jump-and-spin routine poses to her body. She could break bones, dislocate something, or pull or tear tendons or muscles if she landed wrong.

Up in the air she jumps, all four paws far off the floor and then a quick spin in midair, landing (mostly) on her paws again.

But not this time.

....but I'll probably be silly enough to do it again....

Something happened when our backs were turned. She was all excited when DH came home, jumping all over the place like a silly little lunatic. DH isn’t the best with discipline, he tends to be slipshod at best and even when he does give a command, many times it’s the wrong word or phrase. Not a big help in that department.

Anyway, up she jumped as if her legs were made of springs, around she flipped —– and down she came at an angle, with her back legs buckled under in some weird, twisted way.

I only saw this from the corner of my eye, but when I turned to her, I saw that she had gotten up feebly and was hopping pathetically on three legs. She had her back left leg pulled up off the ground, her ears were down just like when she was in pain after she was spayed, and she was trying to hobble closer to DH for comfort.

....because learning from my mistakes is just no fun!

I freaked. Big time.

I thought she’d broken her leg. On a Sunday. No vet. We’d have to take our chances with an unknown animal hospital.

In the two seconds it took me to scream (and I mean scream) “Daisy’s hurt!“, my mind had already realigned our day, processed who we had to call to cancel our planned activities, and imagined which veterinary hospital we’d be sent to and how long it could take us to get there. No place seems close in a crisis.

DD came flying in from the next room and raced to her puppy’s side, embracing her and giving her the comfort she sought. DH just stood there and said, “What?” (typical guy).

The weird thing that struck me was that Daisy didn’t cry out at all. No whimper, no yipe. That gave me hope. But that pitiful look on her face, those drooping ears, that little body trying to move on three legs absolutely crushed my heart.

Over the next few minutes – which felt like hours – Daisy slowly lowered her leg to the ground and put some weight on it. DD and DH both touched it gently in different areas, making sure nothing was broken or pulled.

Thankfully, she was fine after a short while. But it put a good scare into us all. Now we’re adamant about issuing the “no jump” command, and when DH forgets, we say it for him.

Daisy, on the other hand, clearly has no intention of learning from her mistakes.

::sigh:: I think I’ll need some Miss Clairol much sooner than expected…..

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Monday Morning Chuckle – Funny Dog Costumes

We’re way past Halloween, but funny dog costumes give good giggles any time of year! This website has a collection of costumes that can even bring a smile to Mondays. There’s even a bird dressed in a tuxedo!

Enjoy, and have a happy Monday!

Those dogs look amazing, but I still like being a pumpkin!

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Daisy the Contented Couch Cuddler

Spring poked its head out for a couple of days here in the northeast, but it’s been overpowered by winter again. We had

::sigh:: It doesn't get better than this.

light snow for the past two days, and temps start out in the 20s and don’t move much past the 30s.

Huh….a juxtaposition of daffodils with snow on their heads and freezing temps – weird, isn’t it ?

So I thought I’d make this post cozy and warm to take the chill out of this March day. Cocoa, fleece, and Daisy – what could be cozier? 🙂

Daisy is, above all else, a couch cuddler. Yes, she loves chewing and destroying toys, but her Number One favorite activity is cuddling on the couch. And she likes it best if one of us is there with her – she’ll rearrange herself into the oddest contortions sometimes just so that part of her is touching us or, better yet, resting on us, even if it looks like her spine is bent out of whack. (Which, of course, worries the mommy in me.)

So to warm up this freezing cold early spring day, I’m filling myself up with cocoa and filling this post up with Daisy’s

There's nothing better than a good lap cuddle.

cuddles.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

A good cuddle always leads to a good nap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okaaayyy....whatever makes her happy!

 

 

 

 

Squished between 2 people AND cuddled! I'm one lucky puppy!

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Photo Opps – Where’s the Camera?!? And Daisy Rebels.

I think the most often-used phrase in our home since we brought Daisy into our family is, “Where’s the camera??”

Ahhh, cuddling with Mommy....this is the life!

Daisy gives us so many photo opps, we’d need to have a camera implanted into our heads so we could snap a shot every time she did something cute or crazy. I’m sure all my fellow dog bloggers feel the same way in their homes!

Daisy used to pose every time she’d see the camera raised. She’d freeze in whatever position she was in and maintain the same expression; she was like a fashion model at a magazine shoot.

BUT (and there’s always a “but” with this little pup!) I guess she got tired of having flash spots in her eyes because now she’s going in the opposite direction. When that red light hits her, she either turns her head away, gets a “not again!” expression on her face, or moves away.

We have to sneak the camera into the room, turn it on while we’re talking to cover up the sound it makes and pretend

Not again with that darned camera!

that nothing has changed and we’re not paying attention to her cuteness at all. Pretty soon, though, she’s going to pick up on the loud “AWWWW” that precedes this little photo charade.

This series of pictures gives you an idea of her new attitude toward pictures. She was snuggling so cutely with DD that I took a few pictures, after which she promptly flipped herself around so she had her back to the camera! LOL Doggy logic at its best!

Enough is enough!

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Daisy the Stringer

I feel like I’ve been away from WordPress forever! I’ve had a heavy out-of-town work load over the past few days (even over the weekend!) and didn’t get a chance to post or visit my blog buddies.

Now I’m about to embark on a couple of big new projects. When it rains, it pours.

There's no better way to end the day than with a good pajama string!

Anyway, we freelance writers are referred to in several different ways, depending on the types of publications we’re writing for. We’re called freelance journalists by some, contributors by others, contributing editors by bigger publications. And newspapers who use us regularly as correspondents refer to us as “stringers”.

Daisy is a different kind of “stringer”.

Daisy loves strings. Loose strings hanging from her blanket, drawstrings on hoodies or pajama bottoms, strings we use to tie newspaper bundles for recycling – you name it, if it’s got a string, she’ll go after it. She’ll see it even if it’s the finest, thinnest string made by man.

And if there’s no string to be found, she’ll create one from something that has intact sewing. That’s not so good.

Sometimes we hear chewing sounds coming from Daisy and it looks like she’s chewing air. Just lying there, making

She's "in the zone" - look at those little teeth go!

these huge chewing motions as if she’s got an ox bone in her mouth. That’s when we have to high-tail it over to her because we know she’s gotten hold of thread, and something somewhere is coming apart.

Then comes the search to match the thread color to something in the house in case we need to repair it – usually it’s one of her toys or a blanket, but you never know. Because sometimes it’s one of OUR blankets, or even worse, clothing. That’s pretty infrequent….so far….

In this house, you could say that the sound of Daisy “air-chewing” is like a fire alarm going off in a firehouse. It’s like a call to arms. The Call of the Stringer.

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Daisy’s New Water Signal :)

When Daisy wants something, everyone knows it.

From the first day we brought her home, Daisy made it perfectly clear when she wanted something she couldn’t get for herself.

If she wanted attention, she’d pull her Brat Yap on us – that shrill, bratty-sounding repetitive yap that pierces right through your eardrums. (Thanks to Jan Fennell’s book, we put a quick end to that…)

If she wanted to play, she’d race to find just the right toy and race back to us with it, play-growling up a pint-sized storm, thrusting it into our hand and pulling it away again. (She still does that!)

If she wanted to go for a ride, she’d sit by her travel crate and whine, staring holes in us. (She doesn’t even fit in the travel crate anymore!)

But when it came to wanting water, her signals have changed 3 times in 10 months. First she started a life-or-death barking campaign, but since she just bounced around the floor while she was barking, we never knew what she wanted!

Eventually someone will notice I'm standing here.... Hellooo-ooo!

She then revised that signal and started scratching madly at the bottom of her water bowl as if she would strike a gusher at any moment. That was a GREAT signal – we always knew what she wanted. Trouble was, she abused it and started scratching like a maniac at the bottom of her food bowl too, but she was just being a little piggy and we never fed her on demand.

That made her mad, so she decided that her bowls were chew toys and, when we said “No” to her food demands, she took her bratty frustration out on the food bowl.  My blog buddies know what that means – when the Destructo-Pup side of her personality emerges, nothing survives. I was NOT going to buy a new food bowl every other day! So when she’d treat her food bowl like a chew toy, she was put in the naughty room. It took a few weeks to break her of that habit (she even tried to chew the plastic mat underneath her bowls, dumping water everywhere!), but we finally won that battle.

Now she’s developed a new signal. She just sits or stands quietly next to her empty water bowl with a funny look on her face. Just sits there….staring. If we’re not in the room, she’s out of luck until someone happens to come along and sees her there. Sitting. Just sitting.

Quieter, yes, but not very effective. Funny dog, this little Daisy of ours! I have a feeling we’re in for many years of quirky, funny, silly little behaviors! I love it! 🙂

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Is Daisy a Reincarnated 1960s Hippie Protester?

LOL! If there is such a thing, we’ve decided that in one of Daisy’s past lives, she was probably a hippie protester from the 1960s.

I could swear she's smiling! Probably planning her next lie-in behind that look of innocence!

Why? Because whenever she’s lying on the couch and we want to take her off, she turns herself into The Immovable Force. She opens her eyes WIDE and keeps her whole body limp, actually pressing her head downward into the couch.

Which results in:

  • making her feel much heavier than she is;
  • making it difficult to keep her from slipping through our hands;
  • making it nearly impossible to support her body and spine so nothing gets hurt;
  • giving her an extra few seconds on the cushy couch;
  • making it absolutely impossible to put her down without snuggling her close for a deep cuddle.

Her attitude is “You wanna move me? Go ahead and try!”

No way, no how are you moving me!

It reminds me of those hippie protests I remember watching on television as a child – sit-ins, lie-ins, etc. where the protesters would make their bodies go completely limp when police tried to remove them from the scene.

That’s our little Daisy. Maybe for Halloween we should dress her in a tie-dye shirt with love beads and put a band around her head…. 😉

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Spring Has Sprung All Over Me

This is embarrassing. And I can’t even blame it on Daisy. 😉

The good news is – spring has sprung! And here’s the proof positive:

And here’s the proof negative:

Why are there always so many more weeds than flowers? And why are they so much hardier?

Anyway, while spring is happily popping out in the garden, it’s popping out all over me indoors too. That’s the embarrassing part.

Yesterday I went into the hall closet to get a roll of paper towels from the top shelf. I’m not tall, so it’s a tippy-toe job for me. During my awkward stretch to that high shelf, I felt my arm bump a bottle of shampoo that was on the edge of the second shelf and heard it tumble to the floor.

What a character - can't you just see it in that little face?

Okay, fine. But as I crouched down to pick up the bottle, I was barraged by an avalanche of other closet goodies – bandaids, Advil, vitamin C drops, hand lotion, toothpaste – they all rained down on me like a spring shower.

Clearly, Mother Nature had vectored indoors just to give me a wake-up call that the spring cleanup awaiting me inside was as necessary as the spring cleanup awaiting me outside.

And what did my little buddy Daisy do? She took advantage of the fact that I’d been reduced to a huddled mass laughing hysterically on the floor, completely surrounded by closet contents. She charged at me like a thundering herd of buffalo. Then she couldn’t decide whether to sniff the items, jump on me, or lick me to pieces. Her tail was wildly wagging back and forth at the speed of a helicopter blade. All of which only served to make me laugh even harder.

Until afterwards, when the reality of the closet clear-out hit me, adding yet another big thing to do to my already mile-long To Do List. Ugh.

For now, the rain shower of closet contents is back in the closet, balancing precariously on the shelf again. My temporary solution is – next time I’ll just ask someone else to get a roll of paper towels. 😉

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