Over the weekend, Nick posted a Beware of Dog sign on our driveway.
He did it in response to the fact that two of our neighbors were burglarized, but he also did it because legally it’s a good idea. You should be aware of my dogs.
It’s a sign we should have posted long ago since Lucy bit the UPS guy and Gracie tried to bite the Fed Ex man (and bit me instead when I stepped between them). And now Frankie Continue reading Beware of Dog/s?
My husband Nick and I are a pretty good team. I’m the ‘idea’ person and he does all the work.
This weekend, though, Frankie and I were his helpers on a project that has been on my wishlist ever since we began fostering.
I’ve been angling for a ‘dog fence’ for quite some time. Our little hillside farm has six acres, plenty of room for a dog to run, but those acres are surrounded by farmer’s field, woods, one testy neighbor, and a road. It’s rare the foster dog (like Hops) that I can allow off-leash.
I worry too much about losing a dog in the woods, the endless cornstalks, the gun-owning neighbor’s property, or chasing the goats across the road. (The goats live in an invisible fence which makes them readily accessible to the dogs. I’m pretty certain it’s only a matter of time before the wolf or coyotes that have been spotted in our area nab them.)
Ever since Frankie discovered the vultures on the top fence line, Continue reading Puppy Play Yard
You know how parents tend to overreact with their first kid? How they immediately assume the worst-case scenario so that every funny bump is cancer and every new word means their child is destined to win a Pulitzer?
This is me with Frankie.
He’s actually the second puppy I’ve ever adopted, Gracie being the first. When I adopted Gracie, though, I also had three kids at home, a traveling husband, and I was co-president of the PTO. There just wasn’t time to get all worked up over her every move.
But now I only have one kid at home and he’s bigger than me and other than stocking the refrigerator (almost daily), he needs very little from me. Which gives me plenty of time to fuss over Frankie. Continue reading Buyer’s Remorse?
Ninety-five dogs later…..I’ve finally found the one.
It’s not that I haven’t loved the ninety-four that came before him, but this guy seems to belong here. As my husband would say, “He ticks all the boxes.”
He’s a boy.
He’s got very short hair.
He’s a Catahoula (swoon).
He’s very mellow and unflappable.
He’s not gonna be huge.
He’s friendly, but not in-your-face.
He’s not a whiner. He’s happy for my attention, but doesn’t demand it.
He’s happy to play with siblings, but also happy to play with his toys.
Maybe it’s the fact that he’s grown up with five sisters, but this Continue reading Foster Fail