Rain or shine

Mailmen have a tough job. Rain, snow and sleet make no difference - they have to go outside and get the mail delivered. Although I appreciate the work they do, I've always thought that I would never have the motivation to do their job. Yet as I trudged through pouring rain with the Newfies this morning, I realized that being a dog owner is actually pretty similar to being a mailman. Doesn't matter what kind of extreme elements you have to battle (and there are plenty here in Minneapolis), the dogs must be walked. The major difference, of course, is that mailman are at least getting paid to face the elements. Not us dog owners. It can be blizzarding outside, but I rarely give it a second thought as I bundle up to trek through the snow. The dogs could care less if I get frostbite from trying to scoop up their poop, which requires removing my mittens, in 15 below temperatures. And they definitely don't care if I can't see where I'm walking because my glasses are splattered with rain drops. They just want their walk. So while I respect those brave mailmen, I can't help but think that being a dog owner is one of the most hardcore "occupations" out there.

Open window weather

The last few days have finally felt a little bit like spring. Sun shining, temperatures in the high 40s to low 50s. During the warmer parts of the day, we've been opening windows just to clear the stale winter stuffiness out of the house. Thatcher and Boden now post themselves in front of any open window and monopolize the cool breeze that floats in. They sit with their chins resting on the window sill, sniff out new scents in the air and keep an eye on the ever-increasing squirrel population in the front yard. The snow is mostly melted, except for the few spots of the yard that are shaded from the sun. So Mr. Garbage-Disposal (aka Boden) has taken it upon himself to eat any stick, leaf or clump of dirt he can find. And whenever I let the dogs out to use the bathroom, I find them a few minutes later lying next to each other in the yard, basking in the warm sun. Instead of calling them inside, I let them enjoy this lovely weather all they can before the hot summer months roll around.

Results are in!

We were finally able to touch base with the vet today, after a weekend of playing phone tag. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, here's the post about our recent health scare. After examining the test results and doing extensive research, the vet thinks that Boden is fine for now. I won't list the million details of the vet's findings, but he basically said we shouldn't worry. There are many possibilities for the abnormalities in his blood, but as long as he isn't displaying any symptoms (like lack of appetite, potty issues, etc.), there doesn't seem to be any serious problem. The abnormalities in his bloodwork are not completely consistent with some of the more serious problems that it would typically be in older dogs, like early signs of cancer. He did say part of the reason for the abnormalities may be the fact that he's growing at such a fast pace. So we are just going to be extra cautious going forward and keep an eye out for any irregular behavior. I'll consider this my Easter blessing. 

In the blur of worrying about Boden's health, the rest of March whirled by. Obedience classes have been going great since using our new training collars. For the last two weeks, we've focused on mastering what we've already learned. Next week they'll be tested in order to graduate. Boden's biggest challenge will be the staying. He always does ok on the sit-stay, but for some reason the down-stay is just agonizing for him. For the test, he'll have to stay in the down position for three minutes straight, with me standing about six feet in front of him. We practiced this in class last Thursday, and I was literally crying with laughter. He did ok for about the first minute. After that, he started having an emotional meltdown. He stared at me and groaned loudly without stopping. The instructor even walked over and told him "shh!", but that made him become even more vocal. The noises he made did not even sound like a dog. Thatcher, who was

Well, we tried. 

all of the way across the room with J., heard Boden and started whining back to him. So that was what the last two minutes of the stay was like. All of the dogs in the room sat perfectly silent and still, while our Newfies gazed mournfully across the room at each other and crying. Every person in the room was trying to stifle their laughter, while I sent evil looks to Boden and telepathically told him to zip it. During the exercise, we are only allowed to tell them "stay" twice, and I had used those up in the first 11 seconds. Time ticked by until we had only 30 seconds left. I thought we were going to make it, but no. Boden finally had enough and sprinted over to me like a prisoner breaking out of jail. There's about a fifty-fifty shot he won't pass this part next week. We'll see what kind of crazy mood he's in.

Saturday morning we woke up to the first thunderstorm of the season. The booming thunder began around 5am, right when J. was getting ready for work. Thatcher, who still associates every loud noise with terrifying fireworks (see this post), hid in the doorway to our bedroom as usual. Boden, who has never really experienced thunderstorms yet, didn't know what to make of the loud crashing and bright flashes of light. Boden climbed into bed with me and snuggled until the storm passed. I didn't mind - snuggling a warm puppy and listening to the rain fall is one of the best ways to fall asleep. Later that day, we took a daytrip up north to get my cracked windshield fixed at J.'s dad's. By this time, it was sunny and 50 degrees, a beautiful change from our recent icy, gray weather. The Newfies had a smashing time pretending to be country boys for the day. They tromped through the swampy fields, competed over who could find the biggest sticks (or logs), ran up and down the river banks and chased the neighbors chickens (unsuccessfully). Their activity of choice was splashing around in the many ponds the melting snow had created in the low parts of the field. Boden, a natural water-lover, was utterly fascinated. He enjoyed diving face-first into the water to search for treasures. Thatcher just walked into the shallow part and layed down, enjoying the mix of cool water and warm sun. No better way to spend a Saturday.

Spring fever

Bath day

Thatcher and Boden have super thick coats that require pretty constant care to keep them somewhat tamed. Ever since we first got Thatcher, J. and I found it worked best to divide duties. Grooming is my job, baths are his job. I groom them at least once a week, brushing them out from head to tail. This means fighting through the never-ending matts and dreadlocks, picking out pieces of sticks or food crusties, cleaning ears, etc. I'm not going to lie, it's a messy job. Oddly enough, both of the dogs and I really enjoy this little routine. Whenever I pull out the brushes and grooming wipes, they beeline straight towards me, wagging their tails. 

Baths, although much less frequent, require even more work. We only give baths once every few months. It's not that we're too lazy, but because washing Newfies water-resistant coats too frequently will strip the natural oils away. So yesterday was a much-needed bath day. J. quickly learned with Thatcher, who loves water but absolutely hates being splashed, that the most efficient way to keep him in the bathtub is to be in there with him. Before this, Thatcher used to hate baths and it took pretty much all of J.'s power to just keep him in the tub with that scary water faucet. So J. always strips down to shorts and stands with Thatcher in the shower while he washes him. That's dedication. And it's miraculous how much this helps. Well, that and a portable shower head. Boden doesn't mind baths (this was only his second or third since we got him), and pretty much stands perfectly still the entire time he's being washed.

The best part about baths is how happy the dogs are afterwards. You will never see Thatcher run as fast as he does right after a bath. He sprints around the living room, jumping from the couch to the floor to the couch to the floor, rolling around and barking. I have videos this. We aren't able to sit on the couch until it dries a couple hours later, but it's so worth it to see Thatcher act like a maniac. Boden for some reason is always tired after baths, like they zap him of all of his energy. He crashed for the rest of the afternoon, on our bed of course, all wrapped up in the towel and snoring. I brushed them out after their frizzy hair dried, and now they feel as soft as little ducklings. I'm snuggling them as much as possible, because I know the clean, soft fur only lasts like 6 seconds, before it's once again a crusty, tangled mess.