Terrible terrible terrible week

Madison is on strike. She didn't eat (almost) for three days. Barely drank a thing. Wouldn't sleep, just stared at the door. At the dog park, with Man-dad, she laid in the dirt pit and studied the park gate. Madison has been depressed, out-of-sorts, mopey and sad.

What's up?

H-Mom has gone back to school. She is studying to get her CIW, so she can be a certifiable Webmistress of the Internet. Now, this is a good thing.

But not for a dog, who has been attached to H-Mom every day, every minute, almost, since she first came to live here one year ago.

It's been a rough week. Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, H-Mom is gone all day long. Argh. Wait until she finds a "Job" job ...

Can Madison vote for that thing called "Freelance From Home?"

A whole bunch of siblings

We went out to visit the puppies, who are now 4 months old and wiggling, tumbling bundles of fur. Madison was very patient with her little siblings, meeting each one of the five still waiting for the their new homes.

One at a time the little brothers and sisters came out from the puppy kennels and Madison kept looking like "you mean there are more of these things?"

Go Bears

I love Brian Piccolo, and I want you to love him too. Man-dad loves Brian Piccolo, he wants me to love him too. It's all about the Bears.

Why isn't there a team called the Schnauzers? The Chicago Schauzers. The Green Bay Schnauzers. The Minnesota Schnauzers. The Super Bowl Champion Schnauzers.

Water conference

Out of earshot of the humans, there was business to be done. Important business.

This gives us the WILLIES

House-infesting brown dog tick becoming resistant to common pesticides, UF experts say

House-infesting brown dog tick becoming resistant to common pesticides, UF experts say

Yesterday, H-Mom was sitting at her desk and felt a little tickle on her ankle. Not a Madison whisker, not an errant doggie beard. It was a tick and it was looking for breakfast.

Makes you itch for days.

Busy busy

We have been so busy around here, in an un-busy kind of way. H-mom is writing for Demand Studios, which has her concentrating on things other than Madison's blog. So even though we are quiet, H-mom is doing "doggy" things. She has been writing on a lot of dog-related topics, which is kind of intriguing, in a minute kind of way. Lots of her little articles are on the Web, at eHow. It's cool, and it pays. That keeps Madison in ocean fish flavored dog food and marrow bones.

She has done articles on flea eggs, dog heart murmurs and Omega 3 in dog food. On demodectic mange, pad injuries and grapefruit seed oil. Not earth shattering news, but she is WRITING. And after the dog park, which always includes a really good long swim, Madison is more than happy to lay under the table, her head on H-mom's foot and dream encouraging dreams.

In the dark of the morning

This is cool. It's Madison's new job. She leaves the condo in the deep dark part of the morning and walks with H-Mom up to the corner.

Then she patrols. Back and forth, sniffing, snorking. And watching for the school bus. This is what it looks like. It's loud and large and kind of stinky in a school bus sort of way.

And when Madison spots the school bus, she turns abruptly to the other direction and watches for the teen-human. She stands on alert. This is serious business. And when the teen-human comes around the corner and the convergence of Madison's beloved best girlfriend and the school bus is complete, Madison and H-Mom head back home. The bus driver always hesitates for a moment and shouts hello to Madison. And Madison wags her whole rear end - just take care with my teen-human.

Upstairs, Madison goes to the kitchen to wait where she gets a biscuit and there is time for a quick snooze before heading to the dog park.

Bad timing

This is the result of terrible timing and failing to make a right turn, even KNOWING that it is a Sunday morning. The dog park will wait, but will Madison?

A train got there before H-Mom did.

And that had Madison waiting in the car, at the gates, with blinking red lights. For 35 minutes. Torment.

Port Everglades is one of the U.S.'s busiest seaport, serving as host to more than 5300 ships every year, from cruise ships to containerized cargo ships to petroleum distribution hub.

Containers are transported to Port Everglades by truck and by train. The trains move very slowly at the end of the line - loading and unloading - and in no particular hurry. It's important business, but the trains can be profoundly aggravating for a dog-park bound pup and her chauffeur.

The deep harbor port started as a point for farmers to ship their goods. It was developed in the 1920's, and was intended to enhance trade between the U.S. and Cuba. In 1929, the port rail system was linked to the FEC, and the port welcomed its first cargo ship.

Night fountain

Late summer nights are perfect for lazy walks. The sun isn't blazing and the pavement has cooled down.

Madison likes to sniff and snork leisurely, making certain that everything is in order.

The fountains are the best, good for a beard rinsing.

Best buddy Bo

Madison has a new very best buddy. They made friends really fast, both of the herding persuasion. The two have a finely tuned appreciation for a fast-paced combination of wrestle, wrangle & run.

And they take turns being the herder and the herded. Although Madison looks more like a black sheep than Bo looks like a German bovine. They barely stand still unless stalking - then it's like a "Mexican" standoff. Quickly ended with an airborne body slam and an ankle-biting race around the dog park.

A good 20 minutes with Bo is like running the triathalon for Madison!

Others might try, but lately, it's been the Madison - Bo show. It's great to see him pull up to the dog park in the morning. It makes Madison's day!

Premier Guide Miami: 2nd Annual Topel Wine Tails Calendar, which Benefits the Healdsburg Animal Shelter

This is intriguing. Is your pooch a wine dog? a connoisseur of note? appreciative of a fine red? grab your camera and get snapping!

Premier Guide Miami: 2nd Annual Topel Wine Tails Calendar, which Benefits the Healdsburg Animal Shelter

A Chihuahua's tail - Dunkin's facebook friends

We didn't know this little celebrity was flying into OUR airport this morning, or we would have organized the pup-arrazi! Is this cool or what? From Texas to sunny south Florida ... this dog lucked out that's for certain!

A Chihuahua's tail - Dunkin's facebook friends

Posted using ShareThis

Incoming

The dogs have a great game at the dog park. It starts with one, taking off with a sudden inspiration of the zoomies.

Another joins in. The chase is on. The pack takes off.

They circle, they run, one is the "rabbit" and the others are in a mad dash.

This is best accomplished on the grassy side of the dog park, where the lawn is long and wide and the obstacles are few.


But it is manageable on the lake side, in the gritty sand-dirt, speeding along the fence line, weaving madly to miss the picnic table.

Woe to the human caught in an unprotected position during the mad chase.

The humans have taken to yelling "INCOMING" to alert each other to hurtling, hairy hazard.

Once in awhile, they hit the ground like bowling pins. Score: human 0, dogs 1

This morning, Peter did an intricate dance step, avoiding total collision and wipeout. Kaylee circles around from the left, Yogi ditches under the park bench, Lexic right behind him and Madison is blur of a head on the far right.

No humans were wounded in the documenting of this episode of "Incoming."

Sorry no photos

There will be no documentation of Madison's little adventure this morning. H-Mom was too boiling to whip out the camera and snap away. Although the photo ops were plentiful.

In addition to being "The Forager," Madison is "The Greeter."

At the lake this morning, there was a commotion up at the gate. A giant yellow lab and two black labs coming in. One woman in and the other out. Two ball-obsessed pit bulls going out. And even though every dog in OUR party was way down the path, happily enjoy the water, fetching toys and swimming and behaving, Madison was "Greeting."

H-M0m had her in eyeball range, watching her goofy bouncing welcome dance, keeping a bead on those two perked up black schnauzer ears.

Then there were no more schnauzer ears. Two black labs. One golden lab. The tail end of two retreated pitties. And no Madison.

H-Mom shouted. MADISON. And she headed up to the gate, anxious, just a bit.

MADISON.

No ears, no Madison.

And then, there was Madison on the WRONG side of the fence, deep in the scrubby brush along the ravine on the other side of the path.

Looking intensely sheepish. Looking guilty and kind of beggin' forgiveness, but also kind of delighting in the adventure.

She either swam out into the lake and doubled back around the entry fence to make her escape, or squeezed out in the confusion of comings and goings.

H-Mom struggled to lean over the fence, fished Madison's collar loop from the crush of snaggled tropical brush and marched her, from the RIGHT side of the fence, all the way to the front gate. It wasn't pretty.

In other words, Madison is in the dog house for a couple days.

Run baby run

Madison is definately NOT the quiet one at the dog park. Or the calm one. Or the low-key one.

She is the barker, the wrestler, the runner, the queen of the dirt pile.

That's my farm dog. I wish I could give her a week in the country, with cattle to herd and fences to jump and chickens to tease and fields to explore. Maybe one day.

In the meantime there is the dog park, THANK GOODNESS for the dog park. Here is the face of a tired dog on the way home. I guess we get it done.

Take us to your leader

Nick, the long-legged rottweiler, loved this chewed-in-half, only-a-shell-of-its-former-self, purple ball so much that it was very kindly given to him by its previous owner.

This rejected, almost dead toy has provided hours of fun. It's not just a good toy, or a great toy, its the best toy. How does it always happen that there is one thing that all the dogs love, and it's not necessarily the thing that is the newest or most expensive?

This morning, Coach, Nick's person, came up with a novel method of walking with the purple half-ball from the car to the dog lake.

It's a gazoo-helmet, too!

Naptime

MOVE over MADISON!

H-mom wants some naptime too!

Good to be me

H-mom has been rather ABSENT on here lately, neglecting Madison's blog and ignoring all our blogging buddies. No photos, no stories, no little dog tales.

(Although, truth be told, she has been spotted trolling through blogs at 1 am, even if she doesn't leave comments.)

But, what is bad for our readers, is actually GOOD for Madison.

H-mom has been so dedicated to writing lately, and sitting with great earnestness at her laptop. She is cruising from site to site, networking and working and writing. Cool.

And because this is what she does when we get home in the morning, she has been letting Madison play at the dog park for almost two hours every morning. Can you imagine. This is sheerly and utterly exhaustingly fantastic. It might be partly motivated by procrastination, but Madison will take it.

Talk about making friends. Talk about play time. Talk about spoiled.


This is the coral shore at the dog lake. The lake is fresh water, and because it's man-made, it has been dug into the coral rock that is the foundation of all of South Florida.


Last week, someone broke the gate at the dog lake. The Snyder Park maintenance guys took it apart and sent it out to be repaired. This is what came back. What is wrong with this picture? Hahahahahaha even the dogs are laughing. Some genius welded the latch back onto the post upside-down. Now everyone closes the gate with a bungie-cord that was donated by a savvy dog owner.


This is Spot. Spot is tennis-ball crazed. He sets the ball on the edge of the lake, barks at it forever, then PUSHES it into the water and jumps in after it. He does this over and over. The other dogs don't even give him a second glance anymore. He is definately in his own little, doggie-A-D-D kind of world.


Every morning is a really really good morning. A serious game of tug with Taylor rocks, too.

One year!

Happy Birthday, El Lobo's G Litter!

Madison wants to Party!

Don't call me a runt

Tomorrow Madison will be one. H-Mom had to go pick up a new six-month box of Advantix and she put Madison on the scale at the vet's office.

Sixty four point 3 pounds.

That's her one-year-old weight.

Hmmmm, she's IS on the little side, isn't she, commented Man-dad.

A little runty, responded H-Mom. An athlete, a dancer, a lean schnauzer, not quite so giant.

Maybe she needs more food, said Man-dad.

But she is not hungry, countered H-Mom. I'll give a bit more, but she leaves a bit in her bowl as it is.

I bet if she didn't go to the dog park for a month, she would gain weight, Man-dad observed.

Not a great idea, H-Mom interjected.

Well, who you calling "runty?"

Any girl who can sprawl across the queen-size Stearns and Foster like Madison deserves better than "runty." She makes the bed look little.

(H-Mom is distressed that the bed looks sloppy. This is Madison's "oversheet" though ... so that she can take a good nap after the dog park.)

H-Mom is in the kitchen this afternoon, working on something.

Put some extra calories in those, would you?