Sniff Search Schnauzer

On the way in from our walk last night, Madison stopped to say hello to the concierge and security staff at the front desk of our building. She loves the attention, and this is part of the routine.

Mid-pat, she spun around, put her nose in the air and pulled me over to the planter by the elevator lobby. She snorked along the top edge for a minute (she is a master-snorker) and then stopped, froze and stared. Staring is what she does when she wants something. She will stare at her empty water bowl. She will stare up at the bed. She will stare at the cupboard with the Milk Bones. She doesn't make a sound, doesn't jump, doesn't move. She just stares.

So, she just stood there, staring at the planter.

There is something in there, said H-Mom to the security guard.

No there is not, he said. He walked over and hunkered down and dug around between the plants with his hand.

Then he said, she should be a sniff and search dog! This is what Madison sniffed out:

 

Now Madison is thinking she should be trying out for Alpha Dogs, or helping Southwest Airlines find all the peanuts that passengers tuck down between the seats and in the magazine holders.

The persistent sink hole

This sink hole is looking for a little victim, and it will not be Madison. She and Madison make a wide circle around the persistent crater along the River Walk.

On Monday, H-mom sent an email to the Fort Lauderdale Building Department and they came right out, marked it all up with white paint, and then sent a crew on Tuesday to fill it in with gravel and sand.

The crew even named it "SINK HOLE."

Today the hole opened back up and now you can see the landscaping pipes underneath. Looks like it's a hungry Sink Hole. 

H-mom sent another e-mail to the city. They are going to need to institute a more aggressive sink-hole-management program.

Down the Rabbit Hole?

Yikes. It's Madison, not Alice.

We were walking the other evening, Madison ambling along beside H-Mom, who was paying strict attention to the ground so as not to step in dog business.

There's a lot of dog business around here, because no one picks up. There was even a huge pile of dog business right next to the green pole with the poop bag dispenser. Which was full of bags. But that is another story.

So H-mom was watching the ground and all of a sudden, half of Madison disappeared. And she just froze, like one of those cows you've seen on the Animal Planet that are sinking in a mud bog.

Madison's rear legs and butt fell right into a huge hole that is opened up next to a storm drain along the Riverwalk. With all the rain, the ground has eroded, and the grass growing over it, the almost 2-foot wide hole is well hidden. And it goes far down, really far, not into the drain, but deep down beside it. You can't see the bottom. H-mom has visions of a little sinkhole swallowing up half a giant schnauzer, a little dog, a child, someone's leg.

Madison didn't even move with her legs hanging in the hole underneath her, and H-mom said, "What are you doing, silly!" and put her arms around Madison's belly and pulled her right out of the hole.

Today H-mom sent an email request for the city of Fort Lauderdale to fix the hole. Tomorrow, she'll call. She asked the building to put a warning cone by it, but no one has yet.

Maybe she'll just swipe a cone from the parking attendants.