CONLEY ENDS A STANDOFF

Late last night, about 11, I took Conley and Batman (Doc) out for their last evening potty break. This means I can sleep until about 2 in the morning before I have to take Doc out again.

On the way back into the house, as we were marching right along in the drizzle, a cricket bopped into our path.

Uh Oh! Doc says, what's this? What's this hoppy thing? Look! When I get close, it hops! Whoa-- watch out!

Conley is watching this. Shifting his weight. Staring at the door. He doesn't mind weather, but he is smart enough to know he doesn't need to stand outside in it, either. But Doc was in front and very busy making the poor bug hop. Hop. Hopp. Pawing at it. Oops, can it hop without that leg? A dog experiment.

How many legs can a cricket lose and still hop?

Conley sighs, heavily.

I am trying to distract the puppy whose attention span is normally that of a guppy. No deal. Then I try to catch the cricket but it's late and I'm tired and I am holding a flashlight in one hand and trying to grab the by now quite hysterical cricket in the other.

I hear a heavy sigh. It is Conley. If he could roll his eyes he would be doing so.

Boing boing. Doc tries to grab it but ducks back at the last second.
The cricket is kind of getting tired. So am I. I make a last futile grab for the cricket, shoving Doc out of the way. It makes an end-run around my foot to Conley who, in one smooth move simply reaches down, scoops it up and eats it.

Wait! Wait! Where's my friend?? What happened? Where did he go?

Conley is marching firmly to the house. I go with him. Doc trails behind looking over his shoulder. What happened? Where'd he go? We were having SUCH a good time!

Poor Cricket.
Poor Doc.
Conley is looking very smug.

SOME DAYS JUST NEED TO START OVER

           Conley thinks children should be seen and not have teeth
                Doc says he has no idea what Conley could mean.

GRANT PROPOSAL

I think I am going to apply for a federal grant. My thesis is the relationship between fatigue in older women and their ownership of small puppies.
"Small" being relative.
Doc has gained a pound and also grown since last Tuesday. He has established himself as the Terrible One as far as the Bassets are concerned, especially Conley. Conley is no longer sure where he stands in the heirarchy and is acting out. Counter cruising in the extreme and being grumpy and out of sorts. I try really hard to make sure he gets his share of the attention but I think I am not doing a very good job.

Where did he go? I know he's around here someplace...

The newest challenge is the butt-bite. Doc now tries to get Conley to play by biting his tail and behind, his back legs, his hips...
Sometimes this has the desired result and other times it causes a mighty explosion. I have not corrected Conley for this because it seems fair to allow him to NOT want to play twenty hours a day, which would suit Doc perfectly. (The other four hours are for stick eating.)
The Belgian Sheepdog Standard states that the breed is "always in motion except when under command". Doc has the first part down.
We are a little fuzzy on the second part.

                   We are very accomplished at stick-eating.

Doc is learning his name. I have to remember not to call Puppy Puppy but to use his name. We have joined a puppy class that starts in another week.

Doc does NOT like the dark. He is very freaky outside in the yard at night. He hears a car door or voices and he tucks his tail and heads for the house. Last night, knowing it was poop time, I had to finally put a leash on him and walk and walk around the yard with the flashlight before he would go. One of my problems is that since the stupid workmen took down the spotlight it IS very dark in the yard. I trust he will get over this as he becomes more accustomed to noise and new places. (Our house is usually very quiet except when someone comes to the door.)

                  Llewis and Nigel hiding from the evil child.

                         Stalking the elusive Basset Hound.

Llewis watching from a safe distance. You never know what these puppies are going to do next.

Conley pretending he doesn't see the very annoying child with the teeth coming at his rear. Maybe if he ignores it......

SSSSHHHHH

MomPerson either sleepin or she dun finished da wine real quik.

WHUT DA KID LERNT TDAY

Dis Conley.
I gone try write rite so everbuddy can read it. Llewis helping wif he  dictionary. (See? like dat.) (That.)
We gots this new kid here name of Doc. Hes a Belgian Shipdog. Sheepdog. Mom used to hab another BSD (dat short for Belgian Sheepsdog) but he, Mr. Cooper Sir, done croa----sorry: died.

So anyways he only bin here 3 days. Firss day he tired not do much. I said hello but not so much. Llewis says leeb me the F alone, so the puppy do. Nigel say--it sad--he wanna play. (He can't.) Not so much anyways.

So dis morning da Kid and me we goes outside and he do he stuff and I do my stuff an den I look aroun an whut dat crazy kid doing? He doing a play bow.

I mean, how can youse not laff at dat butt stickin up and dat pointy nose in da dirt?
So I run.
And he run. Only he go flying rite past me ob course he got them long ole legs awreddy. He running like a crazy man around da summerhawse. He not know I played dis game wif Mr. Cooper, Sir and I knows no madder how fass I go I nevbver gonna catch dat liddel ...puppy. Not now. Not later either.

So I stan onna deck an wait. An sure enouff he come charging bek around. An so I chast him, just far an fast enough keep the kid going. All youse really wanna do is keep he going till he can't go no more wiffout making youself too tired.
So here I is, makin sure he keep going:

He might maybe look a liddle scared, but truss me, he ain't.

 

So we done dis for awhile. Finely he slowin down a bit. Not a lot but at least anuff that the camra works.

 

 

You may be noticing there be a lot more pixtures of Doc then ob wonderful old Conley but not to worry. I gettin my fair share of treats an attenshun and pictures too.
So anyways we bin out about a half a hour now an da kid really slowing down. Dis always good news. As dey says, a good puppy is a pooped out down for da count puppy.

So here how we ended this liddel playtime:

an den

Fank you Uncle Conley, you da bestest. (Only he say it in anodder langwitch, Come out sumfine like "merci mon oncle,tu es le meilleur.") He say he lernt dat in Texis but I not thinking so.

Dispatch from Conley ob Conley, Llewis, Nigel an now, Doc.

DOC

The puppy is here. He flew in from Texas (he missed the first flight) and got to OHare about 5:30. Some lovely people from Barrington were there too, to pick up his sister. They traveled separately, but together.
I love my Bassets. Make no mistake about that. They offer me something Belgians do not. On the other hand, what I get from a Belgian I cannot get from a Basset, and it is with great delight that I welcome baby Belgian Doc into our home.

This is he. He of the innocent countenence. He of the "who me?" look. He of the "I would NEVER" look.

This is what a baby Belgian looks like just before they learn how to climb up on the dining room table, walk onto the freezer and open a bag of dog food (not yet-- but I have seen it done.)

This is what they look like before they shred your shoes, your blankets, chew the corner off the tv console, (another Belgian) or dismantle your furnace (yet another.)

This is Doc.

See how sweet he is? How cuddly? (and he is.)
Wanna hear how he screams in the crate in the Van? He screams like a husky: maaawww maaaawww!
Only if the windows are down and we are at a stoplight.

A bird? A fly? A yellow Jacket? Should I snap it? Squirrel? flower?
I know nothing. I am a blank slate. But happy to learn. I think the Bassets will teach me a lot.
Today I met a Veterinarian ( a nice lady) a mailman (a nice man) and two neighbors. (Yup. Nice.) While Mom was sitting at the Vet's with me the local Animal Control came in and recognized her and said oh how cute etc etc. And she thought, oh god, he isn't registered with the village--- nor are any of the bassets.  I don't think I have to be registered until 4 mos when I can get a rabies shot.
The nice Animal control people brought in two tiny pug babies that had been in a yard witha gold retriever and got out and I guess didn't get retrieved. The Vet knew who the momperson is , tho, so they will got home. They look funny.
Mom is writing this for me. I can't write yet. Conley says he will teach me. So maybe you will hear from me.

This is Doc.
AKA
Mika Keokuk Medicine Man of Liswyn.

You may call me Doc.

TODAY

Ok it is P day-- puppy day.
The crate is ready. He has dishes of his own even tho I have 30,000 dishes.
Here is the thing.
I spent a lot of time yesterday alternately angry and in tears. WTF??
And then I figured it out.
Yes, I want this puppy very very much.
But at the same time, it is an affirmation that Cooper is, indeed, dead. That he is not coming back from some long cruise, that he has not been on vacation, that no matter what my brain did to minimize the pain of his passing, that pain was still there and had to be dealt with. So while I was celebrating I was also mourning.

The key was, I did this when we got Mitchell. Walker had been gone since November. I called Jackie in December to tell her. She said, oh do I have a puppy for YOU! And in Feb she brought him to a show where I went to pick him up, and there he was, the cutest puppy you have EVER seen, and I burst into tears and fled.

Once again, it was proof that Walker was gone. He was not at the Vet hospital getting treatment for lymphoma. At the tender age of two he was all gone forever. I had kept it together during his illness, during the mad dash for the U of Illinois, through the moments they called to say he was totally full of cancer, through the visit and through the phone call the very next day saying he was gone. I was  an absolute pillar during my husband's profound sadness in the next few weeks. i was tough, and upright, and comforting, and all that.

But when I saw that puppy, my heart broke for Walker.
Cooper is a little different.He had a long (relatively speaking) and happy life. I have been told by 2 communicators that he is here and is fine.

But grief and love are tricky things. They are very closely related.
i will welcome this puppy with all my heart,I will love him every bit as much as I loved any dog I have ever had, and I know this. Two seconds after I get him out of the crate at the airport he will become forever MY dog. I am as excited as a little kid at Christmas.

And he will be my perfect dog, because we all know that each new puppy is going to be the perfect dog.
The truth of course, is that EVERY dog is the perfect dog for someone.