Who Could Get Mad at This Face?

Pipsqueak faked me out by going into what the acupuncture vet called a wolf heat September 24 and 25--a little spotting, jumping onto and snarling at an innocent DoodleBug (completely unprovoked), and basically acting like a little girl dog in heat. So we didn't go to dog class. We stopped taking daily walks, because the last thing I wanted to do was attract any of the coyotes to my backyard. Three weeks later, I thought, hooray, it's over.

And then she really went into heat. Nine days of bleeding and spotting. Another unprovoked, snarling jump onto an unsuspecting DoodleBug. Finally, the spotting stopped on Saturday. Sunday she was running after a tennis ball and I saw the unmistakeable sign of a girl in heat. Sigh. She's spent the past three days being a shameless hussy and planting her tuchus in front of one of the boys. I can almost see her wiggling that tail, glancing over her shoulder in a coquettish way, trying to lure somebody into wooing her. Sadly for Pipsqueak, she doesn't realize the boys are really eunuchs and all her attempts at seduction will be in vain. DoodleBug is happy to 'help' her by enthusiastically licking her. Sigh again, accompanied by 'ugh.' We probably have 4 or more days of this, and then the final phase (another week) to live through. The acupuncture vet wants me to wait 3 months before getting her spayed so that all the estrogen will be out of her system.

Let's see if having finally gone through these crazy hormonal changes will make her settle down into a nice, young adult lady. After all, she's going to be 1 year old on Saturday.

It's Raining Sams!

Today the dogs and I (together with their Clumber buddy, Bertram) went to the university for our walk. The first thing we saw as we pulled onto campus was a couple walking 4 Samoyeds!  We found them later on near a parking deck by the basketball stadium. Here are the other 4--1 male, 1 female, and two of her daughters. My boys were standing next to me.

Then I stopped at the donut shop for a blueberry muffin, and as I pulled out out of the drive through, in my rearview mirror I saw the SUV behind me had--another sam! This is one we've met before, so naturally I slammed on the brakes when I was out of the lane and ran back to talk to him and his owner. Apparently his treat is a strawberry jelly donut.  Shhhh! Don't tell the boys!

More Evidence the Universe is Rocking, and, Mr. Big Meets One of His Own

Still don't believe that my winning the NCAA pool (a whopping $60! And no, I didn't spend it all in one place; I bought me a hula hoop--see below--and lunch.) is an indication that universal vortices are spinning out of control, that black holes may imminently suck up the Milky Way, that Big Changes May Be Coming?

I was able to trim both front paws--both!!--of Stripey Girl, at one time, the other night. At one time! Both! At one time! Usually I can only manage 1 or 2 toes, at most, before she hisses, spits, and flees.

If that is not a sign, I don't know what is.

What craziness I'll do for my dog:

Sunday, I had just pulled out of the parking lot at the park when I spied a small SUV driving past, with a beautiful, spakling white Samoyed hanging out the front passenger window, going in the opposite direction. "Hold on!" I yelled, and turned Big Red around to follow it, T and dogs grabbing the sides of the car to hold on as I hurtled after the SUV. I pulled in behind that car, jumped out, and said "Excuse me? I saw your Sammy, and had to show you what's in the back of my car..." She turned, her beautiful Samoyed turned, and I opened the back window. The two Sammies took one look at each other and went leaping for each other. Mr. Big stood on the back gate, tail wagging at super canine speed. Her dog dragged her across the driving lanes to my car and tried to leap into the back (but couldn't). The two of them thrust their heads into each others' fur, sniffing like mad, tails almost wagging completely off. No barking, no growling, not a sound, just huge smiles, dancing eyes, and excited tails whirling at 90 mph.

I refuse to believe anyone who tells me that a dog can't recognize its own breed. This was not his normal reaction by my dog to a dog. This is way he always reacts when he meets another Samoyed. So even though they may not look at themselves in the mirror, or evince any evidence that they recognize self in a human way, clearly, my dog knows one of his own kind when he sees him or her. And it makes him happy.

(By the way, it turns out I'd met this Samoyed before on the river walk, two or three times, when I was helping J train for her 3-day cancer walk. We cover such long distances that Mr. Big never walks these with me, as his back left leg can't take that stress. I didn't recognize the human at all, though. Who looks at the human when there's a beautiful dog to look at?)