That's my bed about an hour after I made it. No, I am not a lousy bed-maker, those four white-tipped paws belong to Angel, my pit bull......... (I'm waiting for all the horrified screaming to stop, "Are you NUTS!?!? Those things are KILLERS!!! They're viscous, blood thirsty, rippers of flesh and bones!!!" and blah, blah, blah. All finished now? OK, back to my story.) Angel knows better than to jump up and sleep on the bed. But it is one of the very few things I can't break her of. She tries so hard to do what we want her to do, (that is a real trait of pit bulls). She doesn't chase the cat anymore, she comes when called, she doesn't pull on the leash at all. She's come a long way since we got her. But when you get an oldish dog, Angel was about 4 - 6 years old when we adopted her from rescue, you have to expect to deal with some things that come with the history. She doesn't jump up on the bed much anymore. She resists the urge a whole lot, I usually find her sleeping on the floor next to the bed. But every now and then the call to get up and under the covers gets the best of her. You can only ignore a ringing phone for so long, I guess. It wouldn't be so bad if she just jumped up, but no; Angel has to be under the covers, all toasty warm, comfortable and safe. I think the 'safe' part is the kicker. I don't think she felt really safe before she came here. And though she is safe now, old fears sometimes die hard.
This is Angel's reaction after I throw the covers back and yell, "AHA!!! I caught you!!! I think she moved her two front legs in reaction. She loves her comfort, my Angel.
Now I've got her moving. It was easy, I just suggested that it was probably time to eat. Food is a great motivator for Angel. She loves her food...and Dusk's food...and Whisk's food...and our food... heck, I've caught scarfing up the occasional rabbit pellet that dropped from the bag. When we got Angel, she was about 10 pounds underweight and the rescue said she had already gained about 10 - 15 pounds. Food was probably very scarce for her and not regular. So now, when she sees it, she eats it. Doesn't matter if she has just eaten and is stuffed to the gills, if a crumb drops she all over it like she hasn't eaten for a week. For the longest time, she was a counter surfer. That's something I never had to deal with before. I found out she had this bad habit when I left a pineapple upside down cake on the kitchen table. She ate the whole thing. The plate was spotless. I was sure she would be as sick as a, well, dog, so to speak. Nope, not at all, not even a burp. I guess she was so used to scrounging she developed a cast iron stomach. After the cake debacle, I simply made sure nothing was left on the counters or tables. It took a long time but she did finally manage to stop counter surfing, I can now leave out freshly baked muffins and know that they are safe. And that is something, constant hunger is a memory that never fades. So while adopting an older dog comes with its challenges, it also comes with its joys. I'm glad I didn't buy into the mass hysteria about pit bulls and did a little research of my own. I've never met any dog so willing to do what I wanted her to do. She's up for anything, loved agility, loves to play and loves to be loved. And she gives that back with all her faithful, strong, pit bull heart.
It's been rather psychotic weather for the last week or so, sometimes gentle and warm, other times raging and hateful - picture Norman Bates with an icicle. Not that it's all that unexpected this time of year but it does make for some interesting phenomenon from Nature. The temperature remains mild, usually hovering around 2 - 4 C so I'm not complaining. I don't care how weird the weather is as long as my glasses don't freeze to my face the minute I go outside. The weird weather has given the chicken coop a charming necklace of sparkle and defiance, slanted icicles. All day long the ice and snow melt in above freezing temperatures as the wind blows heartily. At night the air cools off to just below freezing but the wind doesn't abate. The water falling from the coop freezes in mid-drip. And in the morning I find all the icicles leaning quite noticeably to the west. It is amazing what Nature shows up with when water, air and fire all work in tandem.
That's my bed about an hour after I made it. No, I am not a lousy bed-maker, those four white-tipped paws belong to Angel, my pit bull......... (I'm waiting for all the horrified screaming to stop, "Are you NUTS!?!? Those things are KILLERS!!! They're viscous, blood thirsty, rippers of flesh and bones!!!" and blah, blah, blah. All finished now? OK, back to my story.) Angel knows better than to jump up and sleep on the bed. But it is one of the very few things I can't break her of. She tries so hard to do what we want her to do, (that is a real trait of pit bulls). She doesn't chase the cat anymore, she comes when called, she doesn't pull on the leash at all. She's come a long way since we got her. But when you get an oldish dog, Angel was about 4 - 6 years old when we adopted her from rescue, you have to expect to deal with some things that come with the history. She doesn't jump up on the bed much anymore. She resists the urge a whole lot, I usually find her sleeping on the floor next to the bed. But every now and then the call to get up and under the covers gets the best of her. You can only ignore a ringing phone for so long, I guess. It wouldn't be so bad if she just jumped up, but no; Angel has to be under the covers, all toasty warm, comfortable and safe. I think the 'safe' part is the kicker. I don't think she felt really safe before she came here. And though she is safe now, old fears sometimes die hard.
This is Angel's reaction after I throw the covers back and yell, "AHA!!! I caught you!!! I think she moved her two front legs in reaction. She loves her comfort, my Angel.
Now I've got her moving. It was easy, I just suggested that it was probably time to eat. Food is a great motivator for Angel. She loves her food...and Dusk's food...and Whisk's food...and our food... heck, I've caught scarfing up the occasional rabbit pellet that dropped from the bag. When we got Angel, she was about 10 pounds underweight and the rescue said she had already gained about 10 - 15 pounds. Food was probably very scarce for her and not regular. So now, when she sees it, she eats it. Doesn't matter if she has just eaten and is stuffed to the gills, if a crumb drops she all over it like she hasn't eaten for a week. For the longest time, she was a counter surfer. That's something I never had to deal with before. I found out she had this bad habit when I left a pineapple upside down cake on the kitchen table. She ate the whole thing. The plate was spotless. I was sure she would be as sick as a, well, dog, so to speak. Nope, not at all, not even a burp. I guess she was so used to scrounging she developed a cast iron stomach. After the cake debacle, I simply made sure nothing was left on the counters or tables. It took a long time but she did finally manage to stop counter surfing, I can now leave out freshly baked muffins and know that they are safe. And that is something, constant hunger is a memory that never fades. So while adopting an older dog comes with its challenges, it also comes with its joys. I'm glad I didn't buy into the mass hysteria about pit bulls and did a little research of my own. I've never met any dog so willing to do what I wanted her to do. She's up for anything, loved agility, loves to play and loves to be loved. And she gives that back with all her faithful, strong, pit bull heart.
