DOG SHOWS & THE NATIONAL BUDGET

Ummm.
I have before me premium lists for 3 shows, all of which I would like to enter. The first two will cost me a total of $114 to enter which, if you divide by 4 is not terrible on the surface.

However. This does not include parking and simply driving to the shows. They are all far north in Illinois. I live well south of Chicago, about 30 miles, right on the Indiana border. The last time I filled the Van was about 3 weeks ago (I haven't been anywhere except around town but am now almost out of gas) it cost me $60. That was before it went up to over four dollars a gallon in case you live in a cave and drive a cart pulled by a burro. Which is rapidly looking like a pretty damn good mode of transport to me.

So now I have to ask, is it worth it? Well you can't win if you aren't there. If I knew that Conley would put his tail up, I would go in a heartbeat. The idea of spending all that money and gasoline for a dog who stomps around the ring as if I beat him regularly is not appealing.

Why can't he go around the ring like this? Instead of like

                                                   This?

Why doesn't stack this way

                                         Instead of like that?

(Why did Cooper leap on me and begin dancing just as the Judge reached us during the Belgian Nationals? Why did Mitchell refuse to put his tail up at the Basset Nationals? Why did Zelda back down the ramp rather than allow the Judge to touch her the last time I showed her at the IKC?)

What does go on in their little brains when they walk into the show ring? Why do some say OBOY A DOG SHOW! and others (mine) say oh hot damn this crap again. ?

I am told it is me. However, I HAVE finished a couple of dogs but Jackie usually finishes my Bassets. I confess that showing a Belgian is a lot easier than showing a Basset, and it takes knees that don't give out and a lot of confidence to show a Basset.

Maybe more than I have.

SPRING WEATHER

Since mid-day yesterday the weather bureau has been predicting "severe" thunderstorms, hail, wind, possible tornadoes for our area starting late this afternoon.
Cooper is terrified of thunderstorms. Lightning included.
I have a Thundershirt, you guys remember that?

Well, alas, it didn't do much when he had four legs and I doubt it will be any different with three. I will try it, but my experience is that it is close to useless. Unlike a Basset, Cooper has the nervous system somewhat similar to  oh...maybe a Gazelle. Once his adrenalin is up, it stays. His eyes go wide, his mouth gapes, he trembles, and he DROOOOOOLS.
Also, like a jungle animal, he knows hours and hours in advance when a storm is coming. The pacing and restlessness usually start about three hours in advance.
Benadryl makes him drowsy but only for a moment. Then the eyelids snap open and his heart rate accelerates and like the Gazelle, he stands at attention, every sense tuned to the approaching end of the world.

Cooper comforting Dad during a storm

He has, at this moment, in fact, retreated to a crate. He is rarely crated. I have started crating him during storms and throwing a blanket over the crate because I simply cannot deal with him. He goes from me to Dad to me to Dad and that means jumping over a 3 foot high gate with only one front leg that is healthy. A slip, a broken leg, and I have a really critical problem.
I bought some Melatonin today.
I called the Vet to be sure it would be ok to give a dog with cancer. She thinks it is useless for a dog with a nervous system like a Gazelle.
She was supposed to call me back and I suppose she will when she has time, but maybe not.

Cooper has learned to anticipate the next step. Just as obedience dogs do a go-out before they're sent, Cooper understands the sequence of storms.
Wind brings rain. Rain brings lightning. Lightning means Thunder. Thunder means the End Of The World As We Know It, and is aimed directly at him. The older he gets the more he anticipates and the more positive he is that the Thunder is his personal nemesis, out to get him.

I have empathy. As a child I was terrified of lightning.

Sooo. Wish us luck. Not that I wish bad luck on anyone else but I really hope the storms miss us. By a lot. By many many many miles.

                      Mr Cooper wishing everyone a peaceful night.

GRUMPY GRUMPY GRUMPY

Yesterday I spent most of the day reading. Sometimes I do that, but it plays havoc with my eyes and if I read or use the computer long enough I then see double when I look at distance. Two eye drs have said there is basically nothing I can do except not read a lot at one time, which is pretty depressing if you have a good book. So I spent part of the day squinting at everyone: the price I pay.
I went to bed about 10:30 and couldn't sleep. I had let the dogs out the very last thing and so I finally got up and took my pills which I had decided not to take.
Immediately, Cooper needed to go out at a little after midnight, just as I was finally getting relaxed and settled. He goes out and comes in at that hour and when he is alone, so that's no problem

I still did a lot of tossing and turning. I had dreams I didn't like. I am supposed to set up a website for the Gallery and I did in my dream and of course, nothing worked right and everyone hated it. Since this is always a real possibility, the dream was extremely disconcerting.

About 1:30 Llewis came in and buried his nose in my face and said he needed to go out, really really badly. So I got up and let him out. When he came in I gave him half a biscuit and then realised everyone was awake and staring at me from their crates, so everyone got a biscuit. I am nothing if not fair.

                  (One for all and all for one....most of the time anyway.)

Then I went back to sleep kind of. I know I woke up a lot. I kept flipping sides and covering and uncovering and getting up to get a drink and all that stuff.
Probably about 3 Nigel began whining in his crate. I got up and made EVERYONE  go out except Cooper. Then I handed out biscuits, locked the crates and went back to bed which by then looked as if the Bassets had been digging in it.

And at 5:30 Cooper came in to tell me it was time to get up. And here I am. And I have a feeling that it is going to be another dreary grey day and my mood is going to be similar.
Maybe John would like to go hang out at the gun shop today, with his buddies......maybe it would be a really good idea....

WAKING UP WITH COOPER

Cooper is 10.5 and wearing now three legs. He seems to be doing fine altho I am loathe to have tests run to see if things are going on, because there is little I can do if there is.
Tuesday he went with me to the Gallery. He was quite exuberant. We came home early and it is my habit to let him out of the van wearing a leash but not holding it-- he is loose, in other words. He will leap out of the Van and run to the front where my decorative grasses are and pee. By then I am usually on my way to the house where he is waiting.

This time he had an evil glint in his eye and instead of heading for the house he ran full blast down the street a couple of houses. For an instant my heart stopped but then I yelled "HEY!!" and he circled back, still running as fast as he can, past me the other way: tongue out, tail in circles of delight, the glint still in his eyes. "See what I can do? Even on three legs I can run circles around you!" He paused at Roger's tree and then jogged home, clearly pleased with himself.

I do not have a lot of photos of him running, because he is black, hard to photograph, and blurs.

However this is about waking up with Cooper.
Cooper often now needs (or wants) to go outside between 3:30 a.m.and 4:30 a.m. If the Bassets want out they whine. But in all fairness, Conley and Nigel are crated so they cannot reach me, and Llewis cannot jump up so HE cannot reach me.
But Cooper can.
And suddenly I am awakened by a bounce. Cooper's front leg on the bed. GOOD MORNING! He says. There is hot breath in my face and often some drool. ARE YOU ALIVE? I AM.

and I open one eye tenatively, not wanting saliva in it: and there he is, smiling and happy to be here, not the least bit worried about anything. Not yet, anyway.
He nudges me. I WOULD LIKE TO GO OUT. Yes, I gathered that. He bows his head and buries his face in my armpit. This is his signal for me to scratch the back of his neck above his collar. I oblige. You are my Sunshine, I tell him quietly. You are my sweetie boy. Oooo you are SUCH a good dog! You're my lover baby.
His back feet begin to dance and the tail speeds up. This is our morning time. His whole body ripples with pleasure. The licking starts which I try desperately to dodge. I half sit up.
Do you want to go out? I ask. But he has turned sideways to the bed and is pressing his rear towards me. He wants me to scratch the spot where his tail begins and I do. When he was younger he would turn a complete somersault when I did this, but he cannot do that anymore.

This is my ex-business card with one of the only photos I have of Cooper full blast. Note the mischievious grin.

He really does want to go out. As usual he grabs a toy. He sometimes will drag an entire dog bed to the back door, knocking over water bowls and chairs that get in his way, looking like a black panther dragging his prey. I always remove articles at the door. He knows this. Once in a while he gets out with something.

          "Ha HA I got it past you! You will never see it again in this form."

When it is so early like it is today he seems to know not to bark. I kind of watch for him. Llewis often goes out with him, and then Nigel and Conley want out as well. They are very quiet unless there is a skunk or possum. If it is the middle of the night and they bark, we're in trouble. But today they all come back in, get a treat and go back to bed, even Cooper. He is so funny and so sweet, how could I be angry that he gets me up, no matter what the time?

Quiller, the Belgian who preceeded Cooper, used to come into the bedroom at least once a night and just jam his cold nose in some warm spot of my anatomy, to make sure I was still breathing. Then he'd leave again....it's a Belgian thing: checking the flock. Watching out for his assigned sheep. I am so glad Cooper is still feeling good enough to tease me by running off.

He never goes far.

LLEWIS

Llewis is our funny dog. He is silly. He has all these little quirks that the others do not, not even Nigel his littermate brother.

Llewis talks. And once he starts he won't shut up. Walk into a room where he is and you just left and there is a frenzied storm of greeting, always at the top of his lungs, along with rushing to you and nudging you towards the kitchen treat box.

He likes to walk with you, with his head between your legs, which of course makes walking with Llewis a bit tricky.

Physically, he is the smallest and lightest of the dogs but that's good, because of his bum leg and hip we don't want him to weigh much. He works twice as hard to do half as much but never complains and never ---ok, almost never--- loses his cool. But he can. He an Nigel have had some scraps but generally he is the most peace-ful of the four. He doesn't seem to have any hidden agendas and is happy just to be here and get some attention.

It's easy to identify him in the Basset scrum in the backyard: he is always the one with his nose in the air, ahrooing.
He plays very hard, very rough and tumble. This is probably not a good thing but nobody has ever told him he is crippled. As a puppy we took him to a very fine re-hab facility and did all kinds of stuff-- chiropractic, acupuncture--we had a very expensive and high-tech brace made for his back leg, hoping to mold it into the correct position. He took all of this in good spirits and was always glad to see everyone even if they were sticking needles in him. Then the orthopedic surgeon who was also involved said "Take that brace off--the muscles he needs will atrophy. Take him home and let him be a puppy!" and it was the best advice we could have gotten. Now you can barely tell he has a rogue leg unless you are watching carefully.

Here he is with Nigel on the far side, running. You can clearly see the back leg on Llewis is not bent the way it should be, but it doesn't slow him down much.

He has developed some annoying habits over the years. One is not coming in with the other dogs, but waiting until you close the door and then wanting in. He will simply stand there, staring morosely at you as you hold the door and say "Llewis come on. Llewis come on, get a treat. Want a treat? Come in the house." and he doesn't. The second the door is closing, he wants in. Drives me crazy in the winter. I can't really get mad at him. He doesn't bark to come in but simply stands at the door until someone remembers he is out and lets him in. I am ashamed to admit he has spent some long moments outside because of that.

Llewis likes to "help" Cooper eat his treats. Cooper is kind of prissy sometimes. He chews his treats. Consequently, the others, who inhale theirs, are finished while Cooper still has large chunks on the floor. Llewis always makes a beeline for this and for some reason, Cooper never even growls, altho he would take the face off any of the other dogs.

Llewis is not crated at night. In the first place, he cannot stand up to counter cruise or grab things off the table. In the second place, we think his leg begins to hurt when he is stuck in a crate for too long.
Now, when I tell the dogs to get in their crates (for eating, for example) Llewis stands and stares vacantly at me until I finally yell IN YOUR CRATE!!

Oh, is THAT what you wanted? Well, you only told me four times. Besides, you have my dish in your hand: what if I go in my crate and you don't give it to me? Hunh? What about that? (I have never, ever done that.)

                       Llewis getting acquainted with Puppy Conley.

MORNING WITH CONLEY

John's bedroom has always been off-limits to the Bassets. It was Cooper's favorite place, away from the short-legs (there is a gate) and a huge, comfy bed to lounge on.Almost every morning I would go in and have a cuddle-and-scratch session, just with Cooper.

But then he lost that front leg to cancer, and we worried that in jumping off the very high bed, he might do something to the other leg.  So Cooper lost his spot on the bed. I made him a nice place in my room, and almost every morning he comes and gets into my bed for our daily cuddle, while the short-legs are still crated.

Ever mindful of opportunities to upgrade his own social status, this has not gone un-noticed by Conley.
He cannot get over the gate.
But he can whine.

So every morning now, when the dogs realise that John is awake, Conley parks right at the gate and starts to cry. He is very persistent, and he is also very annoying. Sooner or later, he knows, we will cave. And he whips right into the bedroom and waits to be lifted onto the bed, where he cuddles with John for a little bit and then demands MY presence as well.

And so I go into the bedroom for a few minutes of intense belly rubs, ear rubbing, and general lovin'. Then he hops down (he usually jumps before we can grab him, and it's a LONG way down) and gets a treat. (For what I am not sure. But he gets one anyway.)

Who said we were hard to train?

                                       Ok, Treat Time, Now!

This is my adorable son-in-law.
He is having surgery today and so we will be at the peoplespital waiting...and waiting..

I hate this stuff (probably not as much as he), but have lost 4 pounds since all this started.

It means leaving the hounds locked up all day, but that is just the way it goes sometimes. Sorry boys.