You see, there's this assignment...

Yes.

I've been very quiet.

Hardly had the computer on, in fact.

Pretty desperately trying to get the reading done on my final major research assignment that is due next Friday. A week. And I'm still reading. *Sigh*

That's in addition to the fact that tomorrow's the church Spring Fair.

And the fact that the LBD must be walked or he won't get his leg back working properly. Tried a swimming session today, but it was cold, misting rain and frigid breeze. I wasn't happy being up to my knees in the water, and the LBD had more sense than to try swimming.

So how much time am I spending on line until next Friday?

Dear Doctor...

I am writing to request transfer of my records to my local veterinary surgery on the following grounds:-

• I took my Little Black Dog to visit the vet today, and was actually in the car on my way home a whole minute BEFORE my appointment time.
• He didn't charge me for the consultation because it was just to check that things were healing properly (but when he charges me it's still cheaper despite not getting a Medicare refund).
• He must know his stuff, because he treats a number of different species of animals (and his patients can't explain what is wrong).

How legal would this be? *sigh*

The Dog in my Kitchen

There should not be a dog in my kitchen.

The Little Black Dog is not allowed to go in the kitchen.

He believes that he is not allowed to be CAUGHT in the kitchen.

There is a difference.

At the moment a three legged dog on timber floors has resulted in a few falls, which has made him worried about walking on the timber floors, which means that he then tried to run quickly, which meant that he stacked it faster, which meant that he wouldn't walk anywhere, which has resulted in me putting down every old towel we possess to give him traction and make doggy highways between his favourite resting places.

Now, though, he will go off the towels and not be able to turn around (the turning seems to increase the liklihood of falls). This has resulted in him getting himself stranded in the middle of the timber and making a huge fuss about being lifted back onto the towels. It is not easy if he gets himself stranded under the dining room table.

Why does he leave the towels in the first place? How does he get himself into the middle of nowhere, and why can't he get back?

But today I caught him in the kitchen. I ordered him out. He looked at me with the, "I'm a poor lame puppy who can't walk on the timber" look that he has perfected, lay down on the floor and went floppy. He's really difficult to pick up when he goes floppy. I carefully pushed all 19 kilos of him around the bench with my foot, handily mopping up some water I'd spilled when filling the ice-cube trays.

The chance that he's not bunging it on when it suits him?

The Traitress

I am a horrible woman.

Multiple times a day I am taking advantage of the willingness and obedience of a Little Black Dog.

I lure him into the laundry, put the bucket collar on him, then lock him in and go off to whatever is in the diary for the day.

His little eyes reproach me.

And the next time I tell him to go through the door he still does it uncomplainingly.

He waits for my return.

Either he is stupid or he loves me very, very much.

And, for the record, how much higher is my IQ than his?

... Approximately None!

After today I think I've confirmed everyone's suspicions that I'm a bit air-headed...

It has been one of those days.

7.30am - Prayer breakfast

8.45am - Get home and take a picture as a background for our church's new website banner (for September - yep, right in time for the new month). Download it. Put the necessary writing on it. Get onto the admin site and upload the image. Realise that it has a typo. Not an important one, or anything. Just the name of the town the church is located in.

10.20am - Frustrated at not getting the website update finished, but take the LBD to the vet to get his dressing changed and for the vet to make sure that everything is looking good. It is, he's walking on it, but doesn't like the sticky bandage coming off. Pushes against me so hard that his good back leg falls off the table and he tries to take all his weight on the bad one.

10.55am - Put dog in the laundry because I have to go out soon. Madly work on the computer to fix the typo, re-upload September's website banner and fix it. Try to insert a new news article, that doesn't end up showing on the public site, but I have to go out again...

11.30am - Meeting with one of our music ladies about a potential solo for Sunday. Words of song are perfect for the service. Can't get onto Sunday's organist. Have a bit of a discussion about deep theological stuff. Get fuel, pick up the hospital pastoral care phone on the way home.

12.45pm - Get home, put some soup in the microwave to defrost. Check dog. He has managed to eat or in other ways get rid of half his bandage. Ring vet. I can bring him straight down. Great.

1pm - try to lift resisting dog out of the back of the car. Drag him into the vet. Vet fixes new bandage. Buy pigs ears to try to keep the LBD entertained while I'm gone.

1.15pm - Put soup on to reheat. Find the LBDs bucket-collar in the back of the top shelf of the cupboard so that he can't eat his bandage. Gather materials for 2pm meeting, remembering the letter I have to post, and the CD to leave for someone at the office.

1.30pm - eat lunch quickly. Burn tongue.

1.45pm - Grab dog. Put on bucket collar, grab pig ear in other hand, then pick up the dog to carry him downstairs to the laundry. Try to push him into the laundry, despite his unwillingness and the fact that the bucket collar gets stuck on the door, which can't open fully because he's rearranged all his bedding. Run upstairs and grab handbag and stuff I need.

1.50pm - Realise that my car/house keys are not in my handbag. They are not on my desk. They are not in the kitchen. They are not in the bedroom. Put everything down and check each of these places three times. Stop and think about what I did when I first got home. Check the shelves in the cupboard where the bucket-collar was. Grab keys. Grab stuff.

2.03pm - Apologise for being late to the meeting. Have meeting to organise Sunday's service. Find out that our organist is away and is not due back til the end of the week. Scrap potential solo.

3.30pm - pack up stuff after meeting. Decide to have a quick run-through of a new song for Sunday (to be accompanied by guitar). Realise that I've lost the CD I had to leave in the office for someone to pick up. Go through all the stuff I have with me. It isn't there. Check the car, my path between the car and the church hall, the office and the meeting room three times each.

3.40pm - Decide that I really need to get home to my Little Black Dog.

3.47pm - Find CD and letter I was going to post on my desk. Ring the lady who was going to pick up the CD. Get her husband. She's just left for the church. Leave message. Ring church. Leave message.

Just now - get new email with the minutes of last week's meeting to plan the Spring Fair. Realise that I should have been there and wasn't because it had entirely slipped my mind.

What amount of respect am I going to have from my church after today's little effort?

... Approximately None!

The LBD is AOK

Just letting you know that the LBD's surgery yesterday went well. He spent the night at the vet's (it was a late surgery due to the vet having to semen test 30 bulls in the morning - glad that it isn't my job!) and was very glad to see me this morning.

Chris popped in to see him last night and got a groggy tail thump.

The LBD loves his Daddy.

His back leg is strapped up in a crimson bandage that he is determined to eat. Whatever is left will come off on Monday, we go back to get stitches out a week later, then we can start with the slow walks as he improves.

How much excitement is there in his life right now?

... Approximately None!

Out for the rest of the Season

My Beloved watches football.

I know, it's a character flaw, but I love him anyway.

So during the last 9 years I have learnt a whole lot of things I did not previously know.

When there's AFL on one station, League on another, an international cricket match on a third and lawn bowls on good ol' aunty it does not mean that there's "nothing on tv."

Or so I've been told.

I can have a pretty good go at putting together the name, location and colours of most of the Leauge and AFL teams.

I have some understanding of the the general timing for the State of Origin.

And I know it is a real problem when the teams lose their star players in August, because if their injury is bad enough, they are out for the rest of the season.

One of the big ones I've heard of is when they 'do' their cruciate ligament.

I might as well tell you at this point that our LBD is out for the rest of the season.

He was very lame (sadly, in his good back leg) on Friday night, I took him to the vet Saturday and he's having surgery on Wednesday. He's done a good enough job that the vet could tell by manipulation of the joint.

Poor baby puppy.

So we have to keep him quiet for a week/10 days after surgery. Good luck to us.

The good news is that dogs that do one leg are very likely to do the other. How exciting is that news?

... Approximately Not at All.

I take it back...

There are two yappy dogs that live next door to us. Well, actually one yappy dog and an encourager, but who needs to be that precise?

The neighbours are considerate when they are home, because if the dogs are barking they take them inside so that peace once more reigns supreme, but when the neighbours are out the dogs are very likely to bark continously for extended periods. There's not much that the neighbours feel they can do when they are not home, and I only wish our anti-barking collar would go small enough for us to lend it to them.

Now, dogs bark - and a certain amount of barking I can tolerate in the interests of living in a community that values pet ownership. And I don't like to sound hypocritical because our LBD will bark on occasion, too. Usually specific occasions for a short time. Unfortunately his three or four barks at the postie will start the neighbours off for a good 20 minutes.

Ever since I timed the dogs next door barking for a whole 30 minutes by the clock (before I left home and was very glad to have work to do elsewhere that afternoon), I have wondered precisely how long a yappy dog can yap without pause. (Emily Sue - pun just for you!)

We found out that they have stamina a couple of weeks ago when the dogs had been barking for some time before we sat down to watch tv at 8.30pm and continued to do so until we presume the neighbours came home at 10.52.

PM.

That's more than 2 1/2 hours of barking.

It was not appreciated.

Later in the week they tried it again, and the neighbour over the back yelled at them. I could sympathise.

Then last week was quiet for a couple of days.

I put out multiple loads of washing without needing earplugs for the high pitched squealy bark from next door. Our garage door could go up and down without being serenaded. The LBD could run around his own backyard without being told off by the pip-squeak from next door. We could walk around our house and open curtains without trembling for the noise it could cause.

I began to get worried that something had happened to them. Despite mentally devising excruciating deaths and torture for them over the last couple of months, I actually began to get worried that something had happened to them.

But they are back now and I take back any concern I might have felt for their safety. How glad am I to see them (or more correctly, hear them)?

... Precisely!

Helpful

So, I start studying today. Exciting, hey.

Textbooks arrived Friday, Study Guide and Readings today, and this evening I have half a dozen messages in the online forum.

So I have dutifully sat me down to do some reading, closing the study door to keep the television noise at bay and I am continually being interrupted by the LBD deciding to come in.

Among the many idiosyncracies of our house is the fact that we decided to paint it ourselves. This meant that there was no sense in putting the door handles on until the doors were painted (except for bathroom and loo - we decided those were important enough to be removed and replaced when we got around to the painting thing).

So my office door has no means of securing it and it opens in. So the LBD simply pushes his way into the room, bringing the distracting TV noise with him. He doesn't want to settle in here and whenever I put him out he comes back in.

How much work am I getting done?

... Hmmpf

It's a Good Thing my Dog knows Sign Language...

Well, he doesn't really. But when we were training him there were certain gestures that went alongside some commands, and I must admit it is useful at times to be able to send him off without words.

Especially today, when the cold in my head has almost entirely removed my voice from usefulness. I can manage an impassioned whisper with occasional squeaks or croaks.

It was frustrating when planning worship for a couple of weeks time not to be able to sing the verse of a song so that everyone knew the tune I was thinking of.

And answering the phone today has been a riot, particularly when woken from a drug-induced doze and totally getting confused about precisely who was answering my message from when. I actually corrected my caller as to who she was.

For the record, she was right.

Anyway, it is frustrating for someone who... well... talks easily not to be able to effectively communicate. Particularly when a Little Black Dog is in the wrong place, and you want him to come in, but you can't inject the appropriate command with sufficient authority to get him to obey. He did follow the finger-snap and point. Quickly. Good Dog!

The number of words I've managed today?

... Approximately None!

LBD Versus Computer

No. He didn't do anything nasty to my computer.

I was just reflecting. It happens sometimes.

And when I reflect, odd combinations of things end up in the same post.

Computers drive me nuts. They spend all the time I'm not working here at my desk in trying to come up with new ways to stymie me.

And then, when they do what they're told it can drive me nuts because I want it to do what I WANT it to do, not necessarily what I TOLD it to do.

The LBD on the other hand proved on Monday night that he is nothing like a computer.

We had guests for dinner and he was beginning to be a pain. What I wanted him to do was find a spot out of the way and drop and stay there so that our guests could finish their meals in peace.

We have never established the command, "leave these poor people alone, they don't WANT you right now, and by the way, neither do I". Such a command would possibly be a little longer than suggested at dog obedience classes.

We do, however, have access to the command, "on your mat", whereupon the LBD sighs, gets a look of great resignation on his face, and reluctantly heads for the nearest mat. It is also useful at the vets when they want to weigh him.

On Monday he just headed for the corner and dropped down. Not on a mat of any description. He did precisely what I WANTED him to do, but not what I had ASKED him to do.

A better mother than I would have made him get on his mat.

I did not.

There are probably reasons that it is better that we don't have children.

The chance that anyone makes a 'dog' chip for a computer, though?

... Approximately None.

Don't you hate it when...

... you're punished because someone else has behaved badly?

This is a guest post from Harry.

You may know me as the Little Black Dog.

I'd just like to complain about being punished for something I wasn't entirely responsible for.

Okay, so I'm partially responsible for it, but it wasn't ALL my fault.

This morning Mum went for a walk without me. It doesn't matter that it was only about 150 metres, and that the neighbour she was visiting is afraid of dogs. She is not allowed to walk without me. I barked. I might have used some language that Mum doesn't approve of in order to express my level of frustration.

My barking set off the two tiny yappy dogs next door.

Then she came back and had to hang out the washing in the back yard. The tiny yappy dogs next door don't like Mum being in the back yard, particularly not if she talks to me.

This made the tiny yappy dogs continue barking.

Then she went inside to do some stuff, but the tiny yappy dogs continued barking. One in particular is very shrill in pitch and it's that one who was doing most of the barking.

Mum timed them and reckons they barked from when she first walked up the street at 8.45 until she left the house at about 9.15.

I think she was sick of the barking, and glad to be leaving the house because there was no end in sight.

As she backed the car out of the garage I got mad at her for leaving and barked.

She warned me about the collar, but I didn't stop.

So she anti-barking collared me.

I don't like the anti-barking collar.

And it's not fair because she probably wouldn't have done it if the tiny yappy dogs next door hadn't been barking for half an hour.

The chance that I'm not one cheesed off mutt?

... Approximately None! (as Mum would say)

There's something so demoralising...

... about a Little Black Dog that finishes a gargantuan meal, then looks up hopefully for more, before resignedly licking the plate absolutely clean.

The chance he got anything else?
... You guessed it!

It's all a matter of perspective...

Jen's Perspective.

Dogs are the funniest creatures. If you have a chance to watch them on any given day, they will be lying sleeping, then get up, go for a wander, come back to exactly the same spot and lie down again for another sleep.

Or maybe they will do a random sniff around the room.

Or change sleeping locations.

Or wander up to their drink bowl, decide they don't want a drink after all, and wander off again.

It all seems very restless and without purpose.


The LBD's Perspective

Humans are the funniest creatures. If you have a chance to watch them on cleaning day, they will be working in one room, then go for a wander and pick something up, come back to exactly the same spot and put the thing they just picked up in some cupboard.

Or maybe they will do a random shuffle of stuff around the room.

Or change dusting locations.

Or wander into the kitchen, decide they forgot to pick up the water glass from another room, and wander off again.

It all seems very restless and without purpose.


And the chance that I don't appreciate the humour of this situation?

... Approximatley None!

What did the sandpaper ever do to you?

What was the chance that the LBD would not get into mischief left in the garage by himself with nothing to do?

... Approximately None.

PS the sandpaper was left on a shelf - not that I thought it would be a target.

Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad...

Thanks, George, for the catchy title. Anyone else have to read it at school?

I went downstairs to feed one Little Black Dog this morning and noticed that he was limping.

This is not unusual, and I was all set to get the anti-inflammatories out when I noticed that not only was he limping on his back leg, but he didn't seem to want to put any weight on his front leg either (this resulted in a very interesting limping action, given that both sore paws were on the same side).

Before I went into full-blown panic about more vet bills I decided to have a look and see if there was anything obvious that would cause his reluctance to put his front paw down.

Clover burr between his pads will do it everytime.

How much did the LBD resist my attempts to remove the burr?

... Approximately None.

Letter to a LBD

Dearest Little Black Dog,

I very much appreciate the habit that you've been in for most of your doggy life, of leaving your... err... 'nuggets' around the perimeter of the property fenceline, rather than where I would be likely to walk.

This is a very positive attribute and I would like to encourage it.

Now, I realise that the backyard is not as huge as you were accustomed to in your youth. However, it is big compared to many yards in Australia, let alone the rest of the world. Believe me. There is plenty of room.

So please, please, PLEASE don't leave nuggets under the washing line.

... Especially not on windy days.

Love,
Mum.

The chance that I remembered to do a 'poo patrol' prior to hanging the washing?

... Approximately None.

The Little Black Dog and Cosmic Balance

It amazes me that our Little Black Dog has so many pet hates. A dog whose heart beats with so much love that he has to release it through the beat of his tail. Whose eyes shine adoringly at anyone that he adopts into his pack.

And yet he can hate with everything in him.

I had a letter to post and decided to walk up the hill to the postbox (am I not dedicated to my Skinny Cow objectives?). I took the LBD with me.

The postie (for those visiting from overseas - the postman, or alternatively "Area Manager - Residential Mail Distribution") came by on his motorbike and a little later I happened to be just about home when he recognised me. The LBD was ready for battle. His old arch enemy the postie was about to attack me by handing me the mail.

You might not realise how difficult it is to reach one hand out for the mail and control a frenzied dog at the same time. I'm glad the LBD is not any bigger than he is.

It has caused me to create a list of the LBD's pet hates:

• Rattling trailers or utes;
• Semi-trailers;
• Earth moving equipment;
• Vacuum cleaners;
• Mowers and whipper-snippers;
• Motorbikes;
• Shovels and brooms;
• Cats;
• Dogs larger than him (particularly German Shepherds. Why would he want to take on a German Shepherd? In any confrontation, my money would not be on the LBD);
• Being washed (he succumbs with the most long-suffering little face and body language);
• Having his rear end and tail brushed;
• Me going anywhere without him (particularly if I'm on foot);
• The door bell.

It's almost like there is some cosmic balance he has to achieve between his loves and hates. But then, how much would the hate outbalance the love?

... Approximately None.

The Most Amusing LBD

Our Little Black Dog is very cute sometimes.

He has little self-appointed duties that he takes incredibly seriously.

For example, shovels must be bitten at, even if it means getting a face full of dirt.

Or that as soon as you hear the garage door motor start you must run around the car and squeeze out under the opening door and wait outside behind the car. If you are unable to get to the garage door there are two standard alternatives.

1. If you are inside - run up and down the hallway a couple of times, then turn around to look down the stairs intently. (Running down the stairs to wait at the internal garage door is optional)

2. If you are outside - run up and down the fence beside the driveway. (Barking optional, but preferred)

This morning I was putting some washing on downstairs. I had the external laundry door open which goes out onto the driveway and is only about 1.5 metres from the garage door.

The LBD was sitting pretty much on the threshold of the laundry door as my Beloved went to load some stuff in the car. He hit the automatic door button and the motor started.

The LBD jumped up, ran past me, through the internal doors between the laundry and the garage, around the car and squeezed himself under the garage door to wait in his designated position. A distance of about 12 metres dodging around things in a big U-shape, rather than the short-cut out through the external laundry door.

How much do I doubt his attention to detail when doing his duty?

... Approximately None

Is the LBD well trained?

Crazy Sister asked the question as to whether the LBD is well trained?

Well, yes... and no.

And did we use food rewards?

The official line is 'no - dogs shouldn't be motivated by food rewards, they should do it because they were told to by someone higher up their pack structure', - but the truth is closer to 'not very often' (the LBD enjoys treats, but attention is much more motivating for him).

Of course, the answer to the question could so easily end here, except that I can't help myself...

I did from time to time struggle with the LBD to help him realise that I was the boss (or at least boss of him). I am of course a very dutiful and submissive wife, and my husband's word is law - my Beloved's word is most often 'whatever' so it's not that hard to take it as law!

This power struggle ended up with some interesting behaviours on my part meant to illustrate my superiority - staring down at him from my impressive height with him belly-up and submissive; eating before him; taking his food or bone away mid-meal, etc. Yep, I did all the work with training, and he wouldn't always do what he was supposed to - but anything my Beloved might suggest...

Apparently that's not unusual for a male dog and female trainer. He is a boy (well, nearly a boy - poor puppy) and in the dog world that means he's the boss - although he seems to have settled into a happily hen-pecked middle age (much like his Dad).

The LBD will 'sit' (although I don't make him do it so much anymore because of the arthritis in his back legs).

He will 'drop' (i.e. lie down)

He will 'give' (i.e. let go of the ball, rope, or toy so that I can have it)
"the way my heart explodes with joy,
upon receipt of slimy toy!" - I must work on creating a poem from that impressive couplet.

He will 'leave' (i.e. not eat that disgusting squished toad on the road - ewyuck)

He will 'On your mat' if he's inside.

He will 'outside' (even if his eyes are pleading to stay in)

He will 'out of the road' or 'behind', and used to 'heel' but it's not something we use very often these days and he's out of practise.

He will mostly 'stay', for up to about 10 minutes, even if we're out of the room. I did say MOSTLY.

He also waits for his food to be put down and then to be given the magic words and bowl-tap before he starts. This is good because you can continue putting food into the bowl and not have to keep shoo-ing the dog away to get at the bowl. Or landing the next scoop on their head and having to clean up. On the other hand, I would suggest if you train Dash to do this that you also tell whoever is looking after her (when you're away for the weekend) what the magic words are! Fortunately for the LBD, the friends watching him became perturbed by the fact that he wasn't eating his food and tapped on the bowl to encourage him, with some key words along the right lines.

These are all good things, and we very rarely used food rewards in his training, as one of the girls at my work was into dog obedience, tracking and agility training and was also really against food rewards - it was easier just to use lots of positive attention with the LBD rather than lie to her over the smoko table. Plus the LBD is really into positive attention... or any attention, in fact.

There are a few things that we've never really established.

His interpretation of 'come' is more along the lines of "If you've got nothing better to do, and you run into no interesting scents en route, would you care to move in this general direction? ...Whenever you're ready."

The two exceptions that prove the rule were:
1. When we were doing 'Brigadoon' for Choral Society and my Beloved was practising his lines as Mr Ritchie and came out with "Come, Harry, and help your father!" Which of course meant that the LBD arrived post haste into the lounge room where he wasn't supposed to be. We couldn't very well get mad at him about that. (Oops, I think I've just given away a real name, oh well!)

And 2. my Mum always bids her guests to 'please enter' if the LBD is around, because he interprets 'Come in' as being for his benefit and will squeeze in past any human who happens to be in the way.

He is also supposed to 'stand/stay' - and doesn't. 'Drop/stay' - but won't stay dropped, and I've worked with him ever since we had him to 'sit' when we come to cross a road (he has no road sense at all) and it has never really taken. Now I make him stand when we come to cross a road, and that's not really working either.

He's not really into 'fetch'. Mainly because a ball or stick is not interesting unless someone else wants it and is even more uninteresting as soon as it stops moving.

We've never managed a clean 'come/drop/stay' combination, which is a good emergency skill if there's ever a reason that I urgently need him to drop and stay exactly where he is. His version of 'drop' is always more of a 'come over to me and drop'.

When we used to go to obedience classes (for a couple of months when he was about 8 months old) he'd do this remarkable 'heel' thing where I'd turn around 180 degrees and he'd go around me the opposite way to end up 'heeling' on the left side again. He'd also 'heel' at multiple paces, from a slow march to jogging (even off lead).

The good thing about obedience classes was for me learning to train the dog. The actual training of the dog occurred at home each day. I guess we've established the commands that we needed for our lifestyle, and the others have been let slide. He's hardly any work at all now, and is well behaved mostly, unless he's overexcited. I'd never let him off leash at a beach, for example. The only thing is that I do really wish we'd established 'come' earlier, but the chances of teaching an old dog a new trick?

... Approximately None

(or at least not without lots and lots of work)