DIY: Dog Grooming 101

Why I don't have to groom my dogs* at home...
Greyhounds don't have enough hair to cut!

A blogger who has two Scottish Terriers--one a new rescue--was asking for advice about clippers so she could groom her dogs at home. I posted a nice, long answer (you know how wordy I can be)--and her spam filter ate my response. (The response included an Amazon link to a suitable pair of clippers. That link probably pissed off the spam filter.)

To prevent a repeat occurrence, I'm posting my message here--links and all, and I'll let Mary come here to find the info. (Take that, you pissy spam filter!)

So here goes: Scotties don't have super-thick coats, and as long as the dogs are being brushed and combed regularly, Mary, you can get by well with a single-speed Andis Clipper. (Most groomers are fans of Andis clippers for their reliability.) For Scotties, you won't need the extra power of a two-speed clipper. You'll want to avoid clippers with fixed blades, and go with one that has interchangeable blades. (The clipper at that link comes with an interchangeable #10 blade. Other blades can be ordered separately.)

Clippers with detachable blades can use blades from another manufacturer. Thus, Andis, Oster, Wahl, Laube, etc.--blades and clippers can be switched around. (I use Andis clippers with blades from everyone.)

You also will want a set of detachable snap-on combs for your clippers. Like the blades and clippers, snap-on combs from one company work with clippers made by another. The combs don't fit all blades (some blades are longer than others), but they will fit over any #10 (like the one that comes with the clippers). Most combs have springs in them to keep them on the clipper. To attach a comb, put the bottom/back latches against the bottom of the clipper blade. Push the comb "forward" (compressing the spring) until the front part of the comb slips over the front of the blade. To remove the comb, push it forward until you can disengage the comb from the front of the blade. You can do all this while the blade is on your clippers. It's much easier to do it that way than to do it on a blade that's free in your hand.

I know you have a diagram of the pattern lines for Scotties. For the dogs' heads and ears, you can use the #10 blade as it is. This will give a neat, tight result.

Always use the clippers with the grain of the dog's coat! You can brush hair against the grain to make it stand up for better clippering. But if you clipper against the grain, you'll be cutting the hair noticeably shorter than it is when cut with the grain. A #10 against the grain will be the equivalent of a pre-surgery shave at the vet's office--way too short for a pet cut.

For a slightly longer length on the dogs' backs, you can use a short snap-on comb over the 10 blade; you'll use a longer snap-on comb to blend from the back into the skirt and down the legs. Use the 10 blade (without a comb) to trim the sanitary area and shave around the pads of the dogs' feet to get rid of excess hair there. The dogs' hair should be clean, dry, and combed out before you begin the haircut.

Watch the temperature of the 10 blade. The longer it's used, the warmer it will get. Test it against the inside of your wrist, just like you used to test baby formula. (Using a single-speed clipper means the blade won't get hot as fast as it would with a two-speed.) You can buy coolant sprays (like Cool Care), or you can just take breaks while the blade cools down (put it on a piece of ceramic tile to cool it more quickly), or you can buy an extra blade and be prepared to swap between the two. You can continue to use a warm blade under a snap-on comb because the comb will touch the dog--not the blade. But be sure the blade is cool when you're using it against the dog's skin (for the head, ears, pads, and sanitary). Keep blades clean and oiled so they cut well (brush loose hair out of the blade with an old toothbrush; oil for the blades usually is included in clipper kits). When even a clean blade won't cut well, you can send it out to be sharpened. If a blade has been dropped or banged up, teeth can break off, so check the teeth before you begin any cut. A blade with a broken tooth can be used under a snap-on comb, but it cannot safely be used against the dog's skin.

You will also want a couple of pairs of shears (i.e., scissors). Thinning shears are great for blending along the edge of the skirt. Straight shears are good for trimming and shaping the tail, trimming the eyebrows; a really short pair of shears is nice for edging the ears. (Edging the ears is tricky. Safest method is to put your thumb and finger on the skin of the ear, slightly extending past the dog's skin. Then trim against your thumb and finger. That's the safest way to ensure you aren't going to cut the skin.) And don't forget to leave that traditional tuft of hair at the base of the Scottie's ear!

If you have a PetSmart nearby, feel free to drop in and ask for advice from the groomers. (Hint: Don't drop by on a weekend, when they're slammed. But maybe a quiet evening...) Ask them where they send their blades and shears for sharpening. Maybe ask them to show you how to put on the snap-on combs, if my description didn't make sense. I don't know how private grooming salons feel about potential customers going into do-it-yourself mode, but PetSmart groomers usually don't mind customer questions; since PetSmart also sells clippers and shears, it's good customer service to answer questions. (P.S. Barbers and beauty salons also have to send blades and shears out for sharpening, so you might get a good reference from one of them, too.) Around here (metro Atlanta area), sharpening generally runs about $6-$7 a piece--maybe a little less for blades, more for shears. New #10 blades run about $20. Try to avoid dropping blades or shears--it can knock them out of alignment or even break them outright. If your shears bend the hair instead of cutting it, it's time to send the shears off to an expert for adjustment and sharpening. Also, most PetSmarts have grooming salons with windows. You might not be lucky enough to be in the store when they're grooming a Scottie, but watching through the window as a Schnauzer or Westie gets a haircut might be useful.

Never cut out mats with scissors. Use the clippers and your #10 blade if you can't comb it. Be careful with the clippers anywhere there are thin folds of skin: under the arms, along the tuck-up, on the ears. (Clipper ears from the center of the ear-leather toward the edge, then edge the ears with shears.)

So this is sort of Grooming 101. If any of my readers has a question, just ask. If you stumble across this post more than three days from today, your post won't appear until I "moderate" it; but I'll get an email notification, and I'll answer you as soon as I can.

*The red-fawn greyhound in the back is my boy Sam, nearly 11 years old. The "cow-doggie" in the front is my girl Jacey-Kasey, nearly 8 years old. Sam has been with me for eight and a half years; Jacey has been here for nearly five years.

NoNoNoNo 4-13

Dogs in torment:





No one's tongue is long enough!

Note: The dogs were supervised the whole time they were polishing off the peanut butter jars. When they no longer could lick and started to chew the jars, I took the jars from them, scraped out the last tablespoon of peanut butter (extra crunchy), and spread it on a dog biscuit. If you try this at home, make sure you have enough jars to have one for each dog. Otherwise, there could be warfare.

Yesterday, it was turkey necks. Waiting for delivery:



(Note that they're hooked to different posts in the carport.)

Sam is concentrating:



The lady-like Jacey:



(The SciFi channel recently reran the original series V. Remember how the aliens could dislocate their lower jaws to devour huge chunks of food--something that boa constrictors can do, too? Jacey may be an alien. Or a boa.)

The landscapers recently cleared lots of vegetation and debris from the banks of the creek. See the 3-foot-diameter pipes?



Compare that to the same location in September:



That's a very sturdy little bridge. If it goes, though, I'm stranded. There's no way out of the condo complex that doesn't involve crossing that bridge. And there have been a couple of occasions when water has been over the top of the bridge. Fortunately, I live on the high bank--and the high end of the high bank--so I'm actually not in the flood plain.

And some local vegetation seems confused about what season it is:







But this tree seems to be getting into the seasonal spirit:

NoNoNoNo 1-3

November is national novel-writing month--NaNoWriMo. Participants make themselves crazy trying to write a 50,000-word novel in one month.

But, as friends of mine realized, if a picture is worth a thousand words, then 50 pictures equal one novel...with a lot less pain. So several of us are celebrating Non-national Non-novel Non-writing Non-month--NoNoNoNo. Here are my first three entries.

Two knitting projects underway. Socks for my sister for Christmas:



The pattern is called Jaywalkers. The yarn is KnitPicks Felici in the Martinique colorway. (It politely stripes itself, thank you very much!) One sock is to the point where I'm ready to start the heel; the other has a few more rows to go to match the length of the first.

And a cowl/smoke-ring for my nephew's wife:



If you look closely, you can see the beads. (You can click through to the photo on Flickr.) The pattern is called Ice Queen. The yarn is Misti Baby Alpaca. The pattern calls for 80+ rows, and I've done a little more than 20. The white threads you see are lifelines: bits of thread run through the stitches so that if I drop stitches or run into some other problem, I can rip back to a point where all the stitches were correct and were captured on the lifeline. (There's also a provisional cast-on, which is all the white thread at the beginning edge.) Eventually, there will be a second cowl--in white with the same beads; that will be for the other nephew's girlfriend.

And an Owwie!:



The upper dark place you see is an old scar--one she had when she came to me. The red mark is, happily, a scratch rather than an actual cut--an angry scratch that didn't quite break the skin. I have no idea how she managed to do this, but my best guess is that it had something to do with Sam.

Doesn't it always?

Sam

Well, he's done it again.

I had a partial bag of Nutro Ultra sealed up and waiting to be returned to the store. (We're no longer serving Nutro here, but that's another story.)

This morning--my day off--I slept a bit late, then walked the dogs. While out, I saw my neighbor's new puppy. I didn't go near the puppy with my two--Sam's not allowed puppies as snacks--so I took my guys home, left them inside, and went back out to visit with the puppy. And while I was outside, Sam went for the opened bag of Nutro Ultra.

The bag is upright--and tall--and he didn't pull it over. He had to stand on his back legs and stick his head down inside the bag, then inside the drawstringed plastic trash bag, to get to the kibble. When I came back in the house, he yanked his head out of the bag and trotted innocently back into the living room.

I couldn't tell how much kibble he'd inhaled. I went to feed Jacey, while I debated how much of his usual 1.5-cup breakfast I should withhold. I heard those very distinctive noises from the living room and came out of the kitchen to discover he'd upchucked about half a cup of kibble. While I was cleaning that, he upchucked another half cup. I got that cleaned up and started checking on Sam--and he was moaning and groaning. This is not typical with him. He's eaten raw potatoes and danced around like nothing was wrong.

Greyhounds--like other big-chested dogs--are at risk for bloat, and Sam was acting like that was a very real possibility. So I hauled him outside, pried his jaws apart, and poured some hydrogen peroxide down his throat. We waited a bit--nothing happened. I gave him a bit more. Bingo!

He started throwing up--probably threw up another two cups or more of kibble--and all the kibble was coming up covered with thick white foam. There'd been some foam when he got sick in the house, but there was lots of it when he got sick outside. His moaning discomfort, I think, was just gas, the result of his having eaten more in one five-minute binge than he normally eats in a day.

Anyway, he threw up half a dozen times outside, and finally was down to just bile. I took him back inside and let him have some water. After an hour, I let him have half his usual breakfast. An hour after that, I let him have the rest of his breakfast. He's been fine ever since (okay for 4 hours now)--bouncing around and his usual self.

But I've stayed home today. I'll do my errand-running tomorrow, but I didn't want to risk leaving him home alone this morning if he was going to be sick again. Tomorrow (Tuesday) is a vacation day, and I'll do my running around then.

And the next time I go visit with a puppy, I'm leaving muzzled dogs* at home.


*At least Jacey stayed out of trouble. I suspect Sam got snarky with her and threatened her. Food is the one thing he'll defend, and she's smart enough to know it.

I've created a monster!

Or two.

Green beans are recommended for dogs as a low-fat, healthy treat you can give a dog who's convinced he's starving--without adding a lot of calories. About a week ago, I got a bag of frozen green beans, and I started adding a handful of the frozen beans to the dinner dishes for the dogs.

The first night, Jacey gave me an uncertain look, reluctantly tried her first green bean, looked thoughtfully at me after she chewed it and swallowed it, then ate the rest of the beans and her kibble. Sam, of course, never hesitated: he instantly went nose-down in his bowl and gobbled down everything. One good thing was that both dogs actually had to chew the beans: they're cut a little large for the dogs' usual habit of swallowing food whole.

And since then, the dogs have had a handful of beans every night and have eaten them all.

Tonight, I was tired when I got home, and wasn't really thinking when I fed the dogs. I just scooped out a cup-and-a-half of kibble for each dog and gave them their bowls. (I did remember the dogs' pills: thyroid, fish oil, glucosamine.) The dogs ate their dinner just fine.

For the next two hours, if I went near the kitchen, if I even looked toward the kitchen, both dogs came to attention, Jacey usually running to the kitchen door to wait for me.

I finally got the message: I gave each dog a handful of frozen green beans.

Now the dogs are blissfully stretched out, sound asleep.

And I need to stock up on more frozen green beans. If I forget, I'm sure someone will remind me.

Sam

Sam's sick.

He's been "not right" since March, when both dogs had chicken backs and had digestive blowouts afterwards. They went on metronidazole for 9 days, although I think their subsequent improvement was due more to my keeping them on a strict and careful diet.

Since then, I've been careful about what they eat, and to help I've used yogurt, pumpkin, and probiotics (not all at the same time!). They had no more raw poultry for two months, and when I started them back on some raw food a couple of weeks ago, I changed them to turkey necks instead of chicken backs (much less fat).

Jacey got better and stayed pretty sound. Sam has been sporadically better--and then worse. He's had at least one all-liquid blowout a month--as well as lots of soft poop--and that's just not like him.

I don't think he's developed an allergy or intolerance to anything he's routinely eating. If that were it, he'd stay sick instead of getting better between blowouts. And he's been on good behavior and hasn't gotten into anything he shouldn't. (He's gotten his muzzle off a few times in the last couple of weeks, but he hasn't gotten into anything--mostly because the potatoes are locked away in a bin, the bread is on top of the refrigerator, and there's really nothing he can get into. I learned my lesson from past experiences, even if Sam didn't.)

Fecal samples for both dogs were checked a few weeks ago: no signs of any parasites.

But Sam had another blowout on Friday. Afterwards, the dogs had rice for supper Friday, fasted Saturday during the day, and rice for supper Saturday night. (When one dog is sick, both dogs go on a restricted diet.) Sam's a bit better today, but I'm taking him to the vet on my next day off. I'm wondering if both dogs picked up a bug back in March (when they both got sick from the chicken)--something that Jacey recovered from but Sam didn't...quite.

Anyway, there are a couple of other things I want to ask the vet about, so we're seeing our favorite vet Tuesday at 11:40.

Meanwhile, he seems to feel well--plenty of appetite for anything I give him.

Happy birthday to Mother's Little Helper

Both my dogs have May birthdays. Sam's was 10 May. Jacey-Kasey's is today, 19 May. She's six years old.



Jacey, originally named Pinerun Torri, is one of a litter of nine (five boys, four girls). With 16 races (no wins, 2 second place finishes, 3 thirds, 6 fourths), she was the second-best racer in her litter--which tells you how bad seven of her littermates were. In a race in September 2005, she quit and turned back. In a race run on 30 November 2005--my birthday--Jacey finished 4th behind Canuhemisaurus. Canoe now lives here in Georgia in retired bliss. In her one meeting here with Canoe, Jacey snarled and growled at him. It wasn't sour grapes because Canoe beat her; it was her usual "bow-down-and-worship-me" approach to making friends.



In fact, her not-so-sweet disposition around other dogs is responsible for her wonky ears: one points forward while the other points back (unless she spots something interesting, in which case both ears point left). Jacey had a disagreement with another dog while they were at the kennel and up for adoption (24 March 2006). Both girls were muzzled, but Jacey's ear still got munched. The experience didn't teach Jacey better manners.



Jacey, then called Tori, also had a reputation with the kennel walkers for two things: smiling, and barking. She still does both (even smiles in her sleep, sometimes), although she usually manages to limit her barking to greeting me when I come home from work.



She gets along surprisingly well with Sam. She's very tolerant about his collapsing onto her on the sofa. But when she does growl at Sam (usually over food), he backs off, looks to me for help, and whines. ("Mom! She's picking on me!")



Once or twice, when we've paused during a walk, Jacey has surprised me with a lovely, spontaneous "sit," for which I've praised her highly. But if you ask her to sit, you get this un-lovely, rolled-onto-her-hip performance, and I haven't been able to break her from that. She doesn't "roach," and she may be the only greyhound I know who doesn't do the "sphinx" down. Ever. Not on her own, and not on command. If you insist on "down," you get a rolled-onto-her-hip down. There's no sign of hip trouble that the vet or I have ever seen; Jacey just has her own style.



She's mother's little helper around the house, usually following me from room to room. She helps with the laundry by lying on it while I'm trying to fold it. She races to the kitchen every time she hears the microwave ding--or when she thinks she hears it. And, clearly, her dreams involve kitchens and food. One night she'd gone upstairs (to my bed) early. She suddenly woke up, bolted from the bed, flew down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen--running right past Sam and me on the sofa. Apparently, she'd dreamed I was in the kitchen...

Quite often, she thinks I move too slowly when I'm headed to the kitchen. She's been known to get behind me and push. When I turn around to fuss at her, she looks back over her shoulder as if to see who's pushing her. And if I order her out of the kitchen while I'm working in there, she makes it about two steps into the dining room before she whirls and scoots back into the kitchen; it takes three or four tries before "Out!" seems to stick.



In the three years she's been with me (more than half her life), she's gained quite a bit of white in her face. She's become resigned to thunder and lightning...and to Sam's antics. She's conquered separation anxiety (thank you, Valium and Clomicalm). She's grown a personality--or just relaxed enough to let it show. She's become a fun dog to have around.



Happy birthday, Jacey-Cakes.

My Old Man

My old man is sacked out next to me on the sofa right now. He's sound asleep on his back, feet in the air. This picture is from a couple of weeks ago. Right now, his eyes aren't open at all, and his tail isn't as discreetly positioned--otherwise, it's an accurate picture.

Nine years ago today, a six-year-old blue fawn bitch named Hondo Comet gave birth to a litter of nine puppies--three males, six females: Stat Chiara, Stat Dimetri, Stat Echo, Stat Faust, Stat K Sally, Stat K Sam, Stat K Suzy, Stat Savage, and Stat Slick (Dimetri, Sam, and Slick were the boys). The owner of at least some of the dogs was a vet, but if he thought the name "stat"--medical-speak for "hurry up"--would produce some fast dogs, I'm sure he found this litter a disappointment. As near as I can tell, none of the nine ever raced. Sam, Sally, and Suzy were in Atlanta and looking for homes not long after their second birthdays.



I fell in love with Sam's adoption photo, and by October 2002, he was living in my home.

Sam is fearless. Well, nearly so. He's a bit intimidated by Jacey-Kasey, but otherwise, there's not much he's afraid of.



Sam is single-minded. He once put his foot through my living room window in pursuit of a cat on the other side of the glass. I bolted Plexiglas over the window, the cat came back, and Sam threw himself at the cat. He bounced off the Plexiglas, picked himself up, and hurled himself at the cat again. I got to him and stopped him before his third attempt. I got rid of the bird feeder outside the living room window: it had attracted birds, the birds had attracted the cat, and the cat...well, it stalked off with its tail held high, but not before Sam scared the bejeebers out of it by rebounding off the Plexiglas.



Sam is a serious eater. He's muzzled when I'm not at home, in the vague hope that a muzzle will stop him from eating the house. He's eaten Scotch Magic Mending Tape, pencils, lip liner, Valentine's candy, dead mice, butterscotch candy, animal crackers, and other odds and ends with no harm. A bag of raw potatoes gave him only mild indigestion. But wheat...plain, ordinary wheat, which is in many dog foods, dog biscuits, and coveted people food...wheat is Sam's digestive downfall. In the following picture, I've mentioned the word "cookie"; just the mention of the word was enough to trigger the drool starting to form:



Sam is a serious sleeper. Aside from the roaching--the sleeping on his back--he'll sleep curled up tight in cold weather:



sprawled on my bed in all weather:



and on top of his sister any time he gets the chance:



Sam is cuddly, entertaining, and always good for a laugh:



I'm lucky to have him in my life.

Laundry, with mother's little helper

I don't mind the washer-and-dryer phases of doing laundry. What I hate is the folding-and-putting-away part.

I've perfected dealing with my work clothes: three stackable baskets on top of the dryer. Bottom basket is underwear, middle basket is work pants, top basket is work shirts (black t-shirts). Work socks go in a pile next to the baskets. (For work socks, I bought 12 identical pairs of black socks. No sock matching. No worries about missing socks or one sock with a hole in it. Any sock goes with any other sock. Heaven!)

But all the other laundry--sheets (which never fold neatly), towels (hey, it's not like they're gonna wrinkle), the off-work clothes--I hate dealing with that stuff. In my condo, the washer and dryer are in a wide closet on the upstairs hallway. On the other side of the hallway is a half-wall (overlooking the living room). It's a nice, sturdy half-wall, just two steps from the dryer. It's a great place to drape sheets, towels, etc., as they come out of the dryer. I mean, there's no place in the laundry-closet to be folding and stacking clean laundry, so that half-wall is terrific.

Until you start using it as the extended closet, and never put the clothes away. Until you have to move all the winter clothes off the wall so you can get to the summer clothes that are buried beneath them.

Today I did several loads of clothes, and I put away the mountain of stuff piled on the half-wall. I started by pulling the sheets and pillows off the bed, which meant first moving Jacey off the bed.

While sheets were washing, I started folding piles of clothes (two laundry loads from today, plus the wall-mountain). I made Jacey stay on one of the two dog beds in the room, and Sam took the other one. Both dogs were a bit sulky.

At one point, I had to go get another pile of stuff off the wall. I came back to this:



Jacey had abandoned her dog bed and settled herself on the largest of the piles of folded clothes. And Sam? He'd moved from "his" dog bed to hers.



As I started whittling down the piles of clothes, Jacey started to get nervous. I was pulling clothes out from under her, and she decided she was going to run out of soft stuff to lie on. At one point, she moved to another pile:



Finally, the poor bereft baby was left with just the mattress and mattress pad to lie on.



Is anyone holding auditions for The Princess and the Pea? I know someone who'd be perfect for the part of the princess.

Finally, I got the sheets on the bed and pillowcases back on the six pillows Jacey hoards at the head of the bed.



Her universe is finally back in order.


The dogs are slowly recovering from a horrendous bout of the stomach nasties. At least this time, they got sick in unison. They're taking Metronidazole and eating lots of rice and yogurt. They seem to feel fine. I'm the one that jumps every time one of them whines and glances at the door. I suspect chicken backs are to blame for this incident, although I'd pulled the excess fat off the backs first. At any rate, I'll be keeping a careful watch on what they get to eat for a while.

Hanging by a thread...

The future of this doily is in doubt.



The Sunburst pattern is supposed to make a doily that is 22" in diameter. This puny thing is 17" right now--fresh off the blocking board.

Worse: this doily, when first finished, rolled, waved, and rippled like the Atlantic Ocean, and a seasick doily is not a very useful one.

I've blocked it, let it dry (at least 3 days), unpinned it, measured it, and photographed it. Now I'm going to let it sit overnight and see what it's like in the morning. If it's staying flat, I'll weave in the loose ends and take new photos. If it has shrunk up much more, or if (as I fear) its present flatness turns out to be temporary, I'll frog this. The doily took way too many hours and uses a ball and a half of good DMC Cébélia thread. If this turns out to be a useless doily, I'll recover the thread; the time is gone for good.


I'm nearly finished with the current BSJ. I've taken a while with this one, and while I've been working on it, I've learned of three more babies (one of which was born already!). So, just a request to my friends: I'll knit as fast as I can, but no more babies until I get caught up. (I've ordered yarn from KnitPicks for the new sweaters, and the yarn shipped Thursday.)


Work has been frantic. Saturday was hectic, and today was long and unpleasant.


Jacey has had a couple of incidents of diarrhea. The first time was two weeks ago, and the dogs had had chicken backs. After they both had issues with some soft, um, output, I defatted the next backs they had. Sam was fine; Jacey was not for a day or so.

Since then, the dogs have had no chicken or anything else off their usual diets. Sam has been fine. Jacey was fine at 9 am Saturday morning, but at noon she had a full-fledged blowout. I was due at work 30 minutes later, so there was no time to go to the vet's to pick up any meds. I called in a request for meds I can pick up Monday (tomorrow) morning. I gave Jacey an Imodium AD before I left for work Saturday, and she did fine on it. Both dogs had rice for dinner Saturday night. And Jacey's been okay since then. But there's something going on with her GI tract, and I'd like to knock out this bug--whatever it is. I'll check with the vets--tell them she's better now--and see if they think I should go ahead with the meds. But I'm sure she didn't get into anything she shouldn't have: she's crated when I'm not home, and both dogs are leash-walked outside and don't get to run around, snarfing up whatever little goodies they find.

A vet visit

Sam sits outside the kitchen while I'm winding yarn. He'd be happier
if I were cooking...or at least dropping food in the floor.


Two veterinary office exams: $70
Two bordatella vaccinations: $40
Two DHPP vaccinations: $37
Two heartworm tests: $63
Total: $210

Two healthy dogs: Priceless.


The dogs had 3-year rabies shots in 2007, so they're good for another year. Sam's weight is up more than a pound from this summer, but he's still under 65 pounds. (He weighed 70 pounds on his first visit to this vet; I don't think he's ever weighed more than 65 on subsequent visits.) Jacey weighs 51.6; her weight is down nearly 10 pounds now that her thyroid issues are controlled. Both dogs have some dry skin, but the vet said their coats look terrific: "Keep doing what you're doing."

Both dogs' teeth look better than the vet expected. Sam's are good (so keep giving him chicken backs). Jacey's are better than they were--the back ones are terrific, but the others are not as good--but we'll delay a dental for her and see if more chicken backs make a difference on her other teeth.

Sam gets an occasional limp. It's not first thing in the morning or when he first gets up, and it only lasts for a few steps before he works out whatever's bothering him. It may be spinal rather than leg-related because it's not an obvious limp on one leg: it's more that he takes a few gimpy steps as we're going outside. (And it's not his toenails...I keep them short enough.) Anyway, the vet didn't find any signs of arthritis or spinal problems on today's exam, and it doesn't seem like anything that merits major diagnostic efforts. I'll just watch to see if something else shows up, but the boy will be 9 in May, so he's allowed to be getting a little stiff.

The Sixth of the Sixth

I was tagged on a meme to post the sixth photo in my sixth picture folder. Unfortunately, I recently archived tons of photos off my computer, so there aren't that many folders...and much of what is on my computer now is photos of yarn. *yawn*

So I went to my Flickr account. The sixth-most-recent page of photos is full of yarn pictures, but I can go to my older pictures. I've got 218 pages of photos on Flickr, so I'm pulling the sixth photo from page 213--the sixth page of photos I uploaded there.

Meet Oreo:



This photo was taken 20 November 2005--Oreo's 8th birthday. I adopted her 17 November 2001, and she was wonderful. She was such a good dog that I was prompted to adopt Sam the next year--much to Oreo's dismay. (As you can see from this photo, Sam's tendency to sleep half on top of his sofa-mates is not a recent thing.)

Oreo broke her leg on 29 March 2006. The next day, she died when she threw a pulmonary embolism during orthopedic surgery to implant a pin in her leg. I bawled for days...but I kept a promise to her and put in an adoption application a week after she died. Jacey came home with me on 8 April 2006. A little later that month, I uploaded all my photos of Oreo to my Flickr account.


My first photograph of Oreo, taken 17 November 2001.

I still miss this girl (she'd be 11 now). She was a prodigious smiler: she wrinkled her nose, showed all her teeth, and swirled her tail like a helicopter propeller. She was a good demo-dog in Jen's training class; she'd gamely follow any treat you waved in front of her if you wanted her to "down." (She also greeted Jen by sniffing her pockets. Smart girl.) Oreo frequently growled at Sam when he got out of line, but he quickly learned that she wouldn't hurt him; he just looked off in the distance (rather than facing her head-on) and continued doing what he was doing--pretending that she wasn't right there, growling, hackles up, and all.

Maybe the highest tribute I can pay Oreo is to say that she made it impossible for me not to have greyhounds in my life.

Love you, good girl.

The Road Home

These are the two parts of a greyhound adoption video put together by the local group. The videos explain what happens to the dogs from the time their racing careers end until they reach their homes.

My guys aren't in the moving-video sections, but the group used some still photos, and my two are the last still picture before the logo at the end of the second part. (I sent some photos ages ago but I never knew whether they were going to use any.)

Part 1:






Part 2:






You know the scene in The Music Man where the band is finally about to play something--badly--for the parents? And the parents are screaming, "That's my boy!" Well, that was my reaction seeing Sam and Jacey on the video. :D

Jacey gets it right...

Jacey is mother's little helper in the kitchen. If she hears the microwave ding--or if she hears me going to the kitchen--she races ahead to "help." (She has been known to knock me out of the way so she can get there first, but that's a different issue.)

One night last week, I was sitting on the sofa, knitting, and Jacey was upstairs sleeping in my bed. The oven timer went off, and I started to the kitchen to get my pizza. I didn't realize that my tiny bit of knitting on its little needle had gotten caught in the leg of my sweatpants. I was all the way to the kitchen when I realized I was unrolling yarn from the ball, across the living room and dining room. And I could hear the pitter-patter of not-so-little feet as Jacey leaped from the bed, galloped down the hall, and started down the stairs.

I had a clear vision of Jacey getting tangled in the yarn. "Caught" isn't something she handles well, and there'd be panic, mayhem, and yarn everywhere. So I just yelled, "Jacey, stop!"

Bless her heart: she left skid marks in the carpet coming to a halt.

So I collected the unrolled yarn and put my knitting safely back in the living room. Then she got praised and patted and loved on. (I didn't give her a treat because I'm trying not to reinforce her belief that my trips to the kitchen automatically mean treats for her.)

Miscellanea

That's a screen shot of a post on a Ravelry forum. That post contained another screenshot from the forum. The avatar I use on Ravelry is the same one I use here (and on LJ, too). On Ravelry, there's a feature that shows a thumbnail screenshot of a Raveler's blog. I figure a screenshot of my blog, which contains two screenshots and the avatar, too, might be fun. Or dizzying. We'll see. (With my luck, the thumbnail-grabber thingy will be broken. I may have to leave this post at the top of my blog for quite a while.)


I've started giving the dogs raw chicken backs or turkey necks occasionally in an effort to minimize the gunk on Jacey's teeth. (Sam's aren't too bad, but they're not great, either.) The dogs had chicken backs last week. Yesterday, I found turkey necks at Kroger, and the dogs each had half a neck for breakfast this morning. Sam's next to me on the sofa, and I was petting him and said, "Did you have a nice breakfast this morning?" Sam just gave one of his sleepy/happy-grunts and snuggled down deeper into the sofa. Six feet away, however, sleeping Jacey heard the word "breakfast" and her head snapped up and she started licking her lips before she even opened her eyes.

(And before someone panics: "Chicken bones! Ack!" Cooked chicken bones are dangerous; they are brittle and can splinter in a dog's stomach or intestinal tract. The bones in raw chicken are softer, and chewing those bones is very good for a dog's teeth. Just don't overdo how much raw chicken you feed your dog. A sudden, extreme change in diet can have a disastrous, um, outcome on your dog's output. My guys got one back each last week, and didn't get another yummy back until three days later.)

(And if you're worried about Salmonella, I'm careful. The raw chicken gets dropped into boiling water for a bit before I give it to the dogs. And I'm a big hand-washer. And if you're worried about Salmonella risks and dog food in general, you might want to look at this. And that's with dry dog food.)


I've gotten some crocheting done. I finished a couple of doilies for friends. There is this one:



The pattern name is "Extravaganza." The doily is 16" x 24" and is white (although the photo looks like it's ecru).

And there's this pinwheel doily:



It's actually a very nice purple that my camera can't handle. This one is 17" in diameter.

I've got several pieces here that I need to package up and send off to people. I should get organized and do it today, especially since my next day off is Tuesday, 11 November, and I'm pretty sure that's a postal holiday.* But I'm pooped (up late last night doing some freelance proofreading), and I just want to vegetate here on the sofa with warm dogs and some knitting. Maybe I'll get the mailed pieces out next Friday, 14 November. Or maybe I could get my butt in gear and mail them before or after work one day.

Nah. Organized? Moi?

*Yes, I just looked it up to be sure. Tuesday is Veterans Day, formerly known as Armistice Day. The ceasefire at the end of World War I occurred (London time) at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918.

Jockeying for space

It looks like cozy togetherness, with Sam hugging Jacey.



In fact, it's Sam, spreading out of his bed again, and hogging the sofa.

Mind you, Jacey's been known to spill out of her bed recently:



Sam showed up, looking for sofa space, and Jacey growled at him, which is why he's in the floor.

Sometimes, though, when Jacey spills out of the bed and takes up extra space, it's like she's mocking Sam just to make a point...



...which Sam decides to ignore: