Someone's on the Naughty List...

I am often amazed by the ability dogs have to "just know" some things, even when us sensory-limited humans have tried extra hard to keep any clues hidden.

For example, how did Shadow know that beneath the Christmas tree... buried between little ceramic houses and amidst a bunch of other presents of the two-legged variety... was a brand new Kong dog toy just for him? Sure, the tag said "To Shadow," but... well, I'm not that crazy.

The Crime Scene

Just like a little kid on a quest to uncover all of Santa's secrets,  Shadow's suspicions began several days ago, when all the gifts sat in a pile on my desk, waiting to be wrapped. He couldn't see the Kong. And I can't imagine how he could have distinguished it from everything else by smell. But more than a few times I caught him staring anxiously up at the pile, wagging his tail, and whining.

But since we already unwrapped his big gift (a bed), I was not about to give in.  He had to have ONE gift Christmas morning. So this weekend, I  stole a few minutes to wrap the toy and place it under the tree with a nice little "To Shadow" tag.

(Click here to check out Shadow opening gifts on his first Christmas last year.)

Exhibit A

There it sat, untouched and peaceful for one whole day. But then... what did I hear just a few hours ago while typing away in my office? Rustling. Rustling like paper coming from the family room.

This is what my mind said: Shadow doesn't usually make noises like that. Shadow makes noises from chewing, bouncing his toys against the floor, and drinking water. But the presents would make that noise. Especially the tissue paper in the bags for my parents, but... no... no way. Shadow never EVER touches things that don't belong to him. He's good like that. He knows... but...


Slightly worried but certain that all would be fine, I walked into the room... and right in on the crime. There, in the middle of the floor with a tear and obvious signs of a struggle, was the gift. And there, a few feet further was Shadow... frozen and staring at me -- not with his usual tail wag, but with a look of "What? I didn't do it."

Ah, the joy of Christmas. Fun for kids and dogs alike!

The Remorseful (?) Culprit

Buttoning Up for Autumn

Two good things happened in the last month: My husband and I finished fencing in the back yard, and I landed a (fantastic!) literary agent. For each of these things, Shadow deserves some credit.

Shadow's quintessential look of confusion. I love it!

Here he is enjoying the autumn leaves, his newfound freedom, and his suddenly less anxious owners.

 

 

 

Doggie Pacifier

I have a new favorite product. It hasn't quite overtaken the Furminator in terms of making my life easier, but it's definitely up there.

Thanks to a tip from a good friend and fellow dog owner, Shadow now has the canine version of an infant's pacifier (Alleluia!)

It's called the Petco Mammoth Bone (PetSmart carries a similar product as well), and it looks like Shadow killed an eight-foot turkey in the backyard and is slowly working on an early Thanksgiving dinner.

Especially because Shadow destroys stuffed toys in minutes, gets bored with toys he can't destroy, and whines for attention the moment he's bored (making it very difficult for me to work), this thing is a life saver.

I do have to limit his chewing time to avoid any possible indigestion (same as if you sucked on hard candies for three hours straight), but that actually helps retain his excitement for the next time. Could it be that Shadow finally has a toy he can't get enough of?

One can only hope. Either way, nothing beats seeing him jump around like it's Christmas morning every time I pull out the Mammoth Bone, and then scamper away to some corner of the yard with his treasure.

New Digs and a Fear Conquered

Three months? Has it really been three months? Boy, is my hair red ;)

But rather than brainstorming a list of excuses as to why you haven't had your Shadow fix since spring, why don't I just get to divvying some out?

The Shadow-meister took quite a big step this month, crossing state lines with the rest of his family and moving into a brand new home that (once fenced) will provide him with the outdoor space he's always deserved.

In typical kid fashion, the moving days were filled with sulking eyes and pulled back ears... but they didn't endure. Not only is Shadow now at peace with his new digs, he's got a new favorite spot... far away from where his "parents" are the majority of the time. (All he needs are some punk rock CDs and opposable thumbs so he can lock the door, we'll have a typical pre-teenager on our hands.)

Scaling these stairs was a tall order when Shadow first arrived.

But it wasn't all fun and new discoveries. Hands down, the hardest part of the transition was something I never expected would be even a blip on the radar: Stairs.

Our old house had them, and Shadow was fine. He's always been iffy at our in-laws, but those are open stairs. These new guys are completely enclosed. But did this make Shadow feel better? In the words I think he'd say if he could speak human, "Not a chance in hell, man."

We tried everything - physically helping him up one paw at a time, bribing him with toys and treats (even peanut butter!), giving him a running start, putting his food bowl at the top of the stairs - but nothing worked. For weeks, when bedtime rolled around, Shadow would tense up like a brick of ice with his back legs on the first floor and his front paws on the steps, and proceed to bark and whine until my husband ultimately carried him up like a toddler.

We read tons of forum posts and articles about this fear - not extremely rare in dogs. Some writers advised leaving him alone, suggesting he'd eventually just get lonely and come up. Others said to keep helping him past the fear. (The knee-jerk "just give him treats!" theory was dead in the water.)

When we finally decided to give the first theory a try, Shadow spent the entire night curled up at the base of the stairs while his bed waited a short climb away. That morning, I assumed he'd never conquer his fear. Still, we continued to help him - one paw at a time - once or twice a day.

THEN one fateful day while I was unpacking on the second floor, a furry grey figure came strolling in beside me as if he hadn't a care in the world. Used to having Shadow be my constant shadow in our old house, I didn't even realize what he'd done right away.

A couple weeks later, he races up and down the stairs like they're nothing but wrinkles in the floor.

Shadow discovers the view is sometimes worth the climb.

What's more... remember that new favorite spot I mentioned earlier? Second floor window. It's his lookout tower.

Next time you think you're having a bad day...

... just be happy no one's doing this to you:

Hot Dog

He hasn't yet figured out how to fetch slippers or bark when his water bowl is empty (only to inform me there's a kamikaze squirrel on the lawn or the neighbor's escaped and is making a run for his mailbox)... but don't underestimate Shadow when it comes to his tan.

It's barely the size of a towel, but when Shadow realized a fraction of the deck was still in the sun this afternoon, he positioned himself for optimum rays. Like how he's getting his full face at the right angle? No bathing suit to give him lines? What a pro.

I Spy A Doggie

Maybe his color is closer to tree bark than silver?

I Call it Puppy Love

My husband would disagree, but this is how my overly active imagination saw the events of New Year's weekend in Maine:

Once upon a time, Shadow the Silver Labrador loved the freedom that came with visiting his extended family in Maine.
(Click here for more info about his first visit.)

The fresh mountain air and lack of artificial boundaries made Shadow feel alive and full of adventure.

But like many a bachelor, Shadow was happily following his instincts when the unexpected crossed his path.

In his case, the unexpected came in the form of a beautiful Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy named Zula.

He didn't know what was happening, but suddenly Shadow was floating on air.

For three days, he and Zula played with each other,

looked out for each other,

and even began to look like each other.

Like all couples, they fought...

but they always made up.

Alas, as is so often the case with young love, the time came for the puppies to part ways.

But as Shadow was summoned to the car, he gave his Zula a final glance and a promise that he would return.

A Snow Dog at Heart

Last weekend's blizzard wasn't the best for many humans, but Shadow was in heaven. Frolicking in the snow for barely an hour knocked him out for the rest of the afternoon, but he had a blast. Doesn't it look like he's in his natural habitat.

A White and Windy (day after) Christmas

Monday accumulation on our deck

Mother Nature fulfilled wishes for a "White Christmas" a few days late this year - and significantly overcompensated for her tardiness by dumping enough snow to close all three major NYC airports and incite emergency declarations all over the place.

The Boxing Day Blizzard of 2010 fell steadily on the New York City suburbs from early afternoon Sunday, December 26, through the wee hours of December 27. (For those of you who don't know about Boxing Day, it is a holiday with no relevance to the U.S. except that it sounds cool in front of the word "Blizzard.")

The wind knocked this down once

As the first flakes began to float down, my mother and I (who were scoring some annual day-after-Christmas-discounts) made the mistake of stopping by the grocery store. We were in the market for nacho fixings, but the rest of the mob seemed to be frantically preparing for Hurricane Katrina II. Bare shelves, no shopping carts, lines stretching into the aisles... I felt like a customer during the run on the Bailey Building and Loan. (Hey, at least I made it Christmassy.)

Shadow explores snow on the deck

Shadow (who, incidentally, we almost named "Blizzard"), wanted to play from the moment he saw the first snowflake hit the ground. Even when it was dark out and the accumulation was too high for him to go to the bathroom without us digging a special path, he could barely peel his eyes from the window - or from us, who he evidently blamed for spoiling his fun and not letting him loose in the storm.

Shadow tries to unearth the broom

This morning, while his owners broke out the shovels, Shadow frolicked his heart out on the snow-covered porch. Hours (and hours) later, he discovered the joy of swimming through nearly two feet of the white fluff in the backyard, chasing odd-looking tennis balls that disappear on contact, and chomping on an unfamiliar substance that hardly seems to exist at all.

Ah, the blessing of electricity in the snow!

It was hilarious watching him bound around in the drifts like a kid at Disney World. Surprisingly (the candles are still out just in case), the gift of snow didn't come with the inconvenience of losing electricity. That meant a low-key day at home in front of the Christmas tree, with mugs of hot coffee and our favorite canine, who is now incomprehensibly exhausted from his time in the snow.

All tuckered out

Shadow's first Christmas

Shadow's received a lot of presents in his eight months with us, but Christmas morning was a whole new experience.

As usual, he was a curious puppy.

He has yet to understand how to unwrap gifts..

... but he got the general idea.

And like a true kid, Shadow ended his Christmas cuddled up in his new bed with his three new presents.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas!!

From Shadow's family to yours, may this Christmas be filled with love and blessings.

What's with all this Christmas stuff?

Shadow curls up beside the Christmas tree in his new bed.

It's Christmas-slash-birthday time, and both I and Shadow are playing with new toys: a big cozy couch bed for him and a brand new camera lens for me  ;)

I apologize for the looong delay in posts; I've just finished a year-long project that I'll keep you posted on in the coming months.

Stay tuned for more shots of Shadow discovering the joys of  * snow *  and Christmas (including the mandatory Santa hat, of course).

Better Than a 'Welcome' Mat

A few hours after deplaning and napping, we were in the Bavarian Alps outside Schliersee, Germany. Hours without Shadow: 23. Hours without sleep: 28.

An unforeseen benefit of having a dog, I recently discovered, is the tempering of that tragic feeling that usually accompanies the end of a vacation.

Don't get me wrong - getting back to work, to everyone else's problems and to the self-imposed pressures of everyday life is never easy. But it's a lot less difficult to board that plane knowing someone's been waiting... all week... to welcome you home with more enthusiasm than winners on "The Price is Right."

My husband and I just returned from a week in Germany and Austria. We had a wonderful time exploring King Ludwig II's "crazy castles," sampling Bavarian fare (beer, sausage and pretzels), cruising through the mountain valleys, and navigating the winding streets of Salzburg. But it would be a lie to say we didn't feel like part of our family was missing most of the time. I will admit turning my cell phone on far too often to see this pitifully cute mug (see photo above) staring back at me asking "Are you coming home yet? Geez. What's taking so long?"

Shadow woke to Day 5 of his vacation as we headed to the castles

Prior to this trip, Shadow and I had never been apart for more than one night, and I worried how he would fare with strangers for eight whole days. Would he cry the entire time? Would he think we abandoned him? Would he be scared? Would he have fun or would he be locked in a small cage wondering what he did wrong?

Neuschwanstein Castle in Hohenswangau is a real life fairy tale

I searched high and low for a good kennel that was nearby, trustworthy, reputable, and was run by people who seemed to really care about dogs. I had already tried daycare at the local animal hospital, but was so disenchanted with that experience that a week-long sleep-over there was completely out of the question. I finally settled on a kennel that came with solid recommendations (from friends of my mother – the big time), that let him have his own food, toys, bed, and indoor/outdoor pens. As a plus, it was only a few feet from the house in which the owners (a family with beloved dogs of their own) lived.

The Bavarian royals sure picked a nice spot for their retreat

About a month before our scheduled departure, I visited the place and met Hank, the man in charge. A few weeks later, Shadow got his test run – one night to familiarize himself and to understand that we would always come back for him. It was a complete success, and made dropping him off on the way to the airport a million times easier for everyone.

Innsbruck, Austria, is full of winding streets and painted houses

It also lessened the guilt for Chris and I – while gazing at the snow-covered peaks of the Alps, lifting a liter in the Hofbrauhaus, or waiting for the Glockenspiel start moving – to think that Shadow was having a wonderful vacation of his own back on the familiar side of the ocean.

When we returned, Shadow just about popped with excitement. Circling and jumping (a temporary lapse after a week without our rules), licking and wagging his tail like it was a propeller, he was thrilled to see "his people" again. And we were thrilled to be back with our puppy.

Eventually, the sun set on our week in Bavaria and we returned home not to a cold empty house, but to one bursting with joy and excitement. Full disclosure, this photo is actually from Day One, just a few minutes after the one at the top of this blog entry. How's that for full circle?