A Small Amount of Jealousy

Shiloh is a one person dog, he loves me to distraction. He loves the attention of others, people and animals, as long as I am present. When he can see me, Shiloh settles comfortably into their company. If not, he becomes anxious. There was the time that he heard me talking to a neighbor in the front yard. He scaled a six foot privacy fence between our backyard and front to lie at my feet while I talked. When we took the TDI test, the testers fudged a little because he was anxious over our separation. Even when it comes to going outside for a bathroom break he’d like me to go out on the deck and wait for him. He would hold it forever if it meant going out alone. When I’m not home Shiloh lays on the pillow at the front door watching for me to return home. It makes no difference if Rich or Luke is home, whom he loves, he waits for me at the door.

Trekker, on the other hand, is a love the one you’re with dog. He wants to be where the action is. If Luke, Rich, or Shiloh is ready to go so is he. Go…Go…Go… though when it’s time to settle in, it’s my lap where he retreats. Trekker’s attitude is a healthier and it will make him a better TDI dog, but I find myself with a slight twang of jealousy as I watch how much Trekker is enjoying Luke being home from college.

Confessions

I am a keeper and a collector. I love the ritual of getting the cherished Christmas decorations out year after year and adding an item or two to the collection. This season has been a challenge. Over the summer we began to downsize with the intent of moving south in a couple of years. Many pieces of furniture, knick knacks, etc. left our house. This weeding process has made me reflect on what I really love and want to pass down to my son as opposed to what was okay and filled the rooms. But what do you do with the decorations that have always been placed on pieces of furniture that are now gone? You rethink and pare down. I work with many young teachers who are just beginning their households and are in their acquiring stage. This works perfectly with this middle age educator who is in the weeding stage and wants to give things away.
So you would think that with all this giving I wouldn’t buy a new piece. Wrong, but to me it was one great piece that HAD to be purchased. I love Fitz and Floyd for its hand painted intricate detail and over the years I have collected quite a bit. But I have never brought myself to buy the large table top Santa sleigh. This year it called to me over and over telling me that it belonged on my dining room table, which is where it now sits. I want to state for the record I have kept my deal with the husband. I agreed that I would not bring in anything without getting rid of something. I did that. I just didn’t agree that they would be of equal value.

A Soft Heart

If you asked my husband, Rich, about our having dogs he would adamantly state that they are all mine and he wants no part of them. He would say that he had said NO, we don’t need a dog and we still don’t! The first no came when I was in college and wanted a puppy in the worse way but had no way of keeping one. Rich, on the hand, could because he was farming. After a little sweet talking and a little too much drink he said yes. The next day we had our first puppy, a sheperd-border collie. This puppy soon became Rich’s shadow, where ever Rich went so did Sasha. That bond lasted for over ten years.
Thirty years later the song has not changed, but actions speak louder than words. Every night after work Rich takes the dogs for a long walk. He takes both dogs on a short walk (all Shiloh can handle) and then returns home with Shiloh and continues on with Trekker for a lengthy finish. (The pictures show the dogs waiting impatiently for Rich to come through door ready for their nightly walk. Sometimes it’s a long wait for the impatient Trekker.)
I have allowed the dogs to sleep with us. Over the years Rich has pushed Shiloh into the middle of the bed or made him get down so that he could claim his side. Now I occasionally find Rich sleeping on the sofa. When I ask him why he tells me that Shiloh was comfortable and he just didn’t have the heart to make the old boy move.
A couple of weeks ago I had made a pork roast. After the meal Rich was helping me clean up and was taking forever in clearing the roast. Finally he handed me a bag of meat scraps and said that he had cut it into small bites so that I could give the dogs treats throughout the next week.
Rich’s actions sure speak louder than words and fortunately he doesn’t know how to find my blog because he wouldn’t want the world to know that he is a real softy. He would continue to tell you he never wanted any dog.

Song About Corgis

Did you know that there is a song out now about corgis? I just spent a few minutes out on the web and heard it. Here's the site I found it. How fun.

http://www.mycorgi.com/video/sidney-herding-to-music

A Little Rough Housing

Living through modern medicine, that's us. Better and stronger medication is again allowing Shiloh more time. After a couple days on the stronger meds he's participating in a little rough housing. The play times are shorter and fewer between but at least we have them. I am so glad that Trekker and I are starting beginners agility right after the holidays. The boy has always been energetic, but now with Shiloh slowing he has energy to burn.

Feeling Others Loss

In the past couple of days I've read blogs about the passing of Bart and the aging of Petunia, both well loved dogs. Tears well up in my eyes as I read these because if you have ever loved a dog, a best friend, you have to survive the his aging process and eventually their loss.

Shiloh came to be part of our family as a young pup from the Animal Rescue League. He has been my shadow and best friend for the last ten years. In my eyes he has been a near perfect dog. As Shiloh turned nine he began to age quickly. Our once semi annual veterinary visits are now coming at least monthly, if not more. No easy answers are coming to explain a wide variety of symptoms. As he now reaches ten each day that he is feeling up enough to harass Trekker is a blessing. Today we will once again visit Dr. Henning and hope for a medicine or treatment that will allow him more time as a valued member of our family.

Yes, my heart goes out to Bart and Petunia's families.

Need Experienced Corgi Owner's Opinion

I had a dog trainer to my house this afternoon and she said that Trekker was an unusual build, really slim and athletic. The corgis she had seen are much stockier in build. I told her that Trekker was 9 months and 23 pounds and that between a year to 15 months he'd get his bulk. His mother was 31 pounds and his father was 33 or 34. Since Trekker is my first corgi am I correct? Thanks.

Waiting for Santa Under the Tree

A New Find

Trekker does love his snow burrowing. Today it was the neighbor's yard since ours was complete.

Trekker was invited to neighbors to play with Casey, the Chesapeake Bay mix puppy. Before serious play could take place Trekker had to relocate a little snow and low and behold what did he find? Casey's precious squeaky football buried under the snow. Unlike Shiloh, Casey was not able to retrieve it from a quick and cunning corgi. Trekker gave the poor pup the same teasing treatment that his brother gives him. Casey gave chase after chase trying to retrieve his toy, but the only part of Trekker that Casey could catch was his tail. He held on like a champ until Trekker finally returned his find.

Snow Treasures

A little background information is needed—Shiloh has never been much for toys. When he’s had them it has been a matter of minutes before his powerful jaws chews them apart. Yet he loves the sound of squeaky toys. Last summer I found a squeaker that seems to have lasted. Or more accurately, Shiloh hides so that Trekker can’t confiscate. Trekker, on the other hand, loves his toys. His feelings are the more the better; he doesn’t seem to have favorites. Knowing Trekker’s passion for toys, Shiloh regularly takes away Trekker’s toys and lays on top of them just for kicks.
Now on to the story—Trekker has decided it is his mission to burrow up all the backyard snow. Mother Nature seems to need a relocation crew of one. Finally as he got to the perimeter of the yard the burrower hit a jack pot, a squeaky toy. To be more specific, Shiloh’s precious squeaking bone that he had carefully hidden. Trekker pranced the yard displaying his new treasure, that is until Shiloh caught sight of what Trekker was holding. Shiloh marched over to Trekker and grabbed it away from him. Trekker tried to quickly retrieve the toy back, but Shiloh was having none of that. Trekker then tried the “I’m telling Mom” whine. When I wouldn’t intervene Trekker tried sneak attacks and direct attacks. None worked. Shiloh was keeping the beloved squeaker. Shiloh kept the bone in his mouth or right next to him even taking it up on the deck for safe keeping. When it was time to go inside Shiloh stood aside and let Trekker in first, set the bone down outside, right in front of the slider, and came inside. He then lay on the rug in front of the slider so that he could warmly keep watch. This leaves me wondering what goes on inside his devious mind. Why didn’t he bring squeaker inside? Maybe, it’s just one more way to torture his younger brother?