Post-walk Newfies

Even at 5:30am, it is still a little warm to walk the Newfies. 

Water woes

Monsoon season plus a pool in our backyard equals a house that cannot stay clean. We've been getting rainstorms every few days, so with the combination of the Newfies swimming and playing in the wet yard, they track water and mud in every time they step back inside. One of their favorite activities seems to be hopping in the pool then rolling around in the dirt. And since they get wet so often, they shed even more than usual, which leads to giant tufts of fur all over the tile floors in the house. Not to mention the wet imprints they leave on the couch or bed after napping.

Having a pool is awesome, but also problematic. Since Thatcher and Boden are in and out of the water every day, the mats are building up in their fur. I've been grooming them every night before bed, and I still can't keep them free of mats. Boden especially. His fur is so thick, particularly around his neck, that it tangles into dreadlocks constantly. Keeping their collars off them helps a little bit, but it's still quite a battle. It takes me at least half an hour per dog just to do a quick wipe down with grooming wipes and a comb through of their whole bodies. I think I'm going to have to start incorporating professional grooming into our routine at least once a month.

And then there's another issue: ear infections. Last weekend, I noticed Thatcher was not eating much and acting a little lethargic. The next day while grooming him, I realized there was an odd odor coming from his ears. I researched a little online and found that those were telltale signs of ear infections in dogs. I called the vet the next day and took him in to get checked after work. Sure enough, he had yeast and bacteria infections in both ears. Apparently, this is fairly common for dogs who swim a lot. I've been giving him medicated ear drops twice a day, and he's back to his normal self. But now I'm trying to be extra careful to dry off and clean their ears after swimming. The vet recommended an ear powder that we should use once a week or so to clear up their ear canals and hopefully prevent any more infections. Lately, I keep thinking to myself how busy people with actual children must be. How do they have enough time in their day to work full-time and raise kids? I can't even keep my dogs clean!

Sun up

Thatcher and Boden are adjusting well to the desert climate and have settled back into some semblance of a routine. To my dismay, this routine seems to now permanently include waking up at 5am. The downside of this is, well, the fact that it's 5am. Instead of my body getting used to it, every morning is equally as difficult. Peeling myself out of bed while it's still dark out is just not fun. The one redeeming factor is the sunrise. We always head out to walk between 5am and 5:30am, so we literally see the sun float up alongside the mountains and the palm trees every morning. While most of the neighborhood is still asleep, we get to witness the entire sky light up into bright pink, orange and purple hues. Without trying to sound like a complete cliche, it really is breathtaking.

Another perk is how quiet the neighborhood is at this time. Aside from the occasional dog barking, it's utterly silent. We've been starting to encounter the same few people every day, like this older gentleman who always rides his bicycle past us, or this elderly couple who stroll slowly with matching coffee cups. But overall, it's peaceful and still, and the perfect "zen" way to begin a day. Since the Newfies are getting more accustomed to the constant hot temperatures, our walks are getting longer and we've been able to explore more of the neighborhood. Mountains surround us in pretty much every direction, so I'm looking forward to winter, when we'll be able to walk up into the mountains without the dogs passing out from the heat. In the meantime, we'll take our sunrises.

1700 miles down

Twenty-six hours and 1700 miles later, we successfully made it to Arizona. The trip was almost too easy and breezed by with zero car mishaps. Just to be cautious, we stopped every two hours so the Newfies could drink some water and stretch their legs. We chalk it up entirely to luck, but both Thatcher and Boden are ideal passengers in the car. They braved the miles cheerfully, running their energy out at rest stops and napping soundly during the drive. The car we rented for the journey was spacious, but still a small backseat for two Newfies. Surprisingly, they didn't get mad at each other once. Instead, they snuggled for much of the time, one lying with his head on the other's back. Good brothers. I did regret not bringing my camera with me, but managed to snap a few photos with my phone.

The only tiny problem we encountered was not on the road, but when we stopped at a motel to sleep on the Fourth of July. We arrived right at dusk, checked into our room and took the dogs out for a brief walk before bed. As we were meandering back towards the motel parking lot, we heard fireworks going off. Thatcher immediately became tense and grabbed the leash in his mouth to pull us back to our room. As we got closer, we saw that the noise was coming from our motel parking lot. A group of people had clustered around to light some noisy, sparkling fireworks right in front of the walkway to our room. Thatcher beelined for our door as fast as he could, J struggling to manage him. We got back into the room and immediately closed the blinds and turned the TV on to drown out the commotion. Despite our attempts to comfort Thatcher, he hid in the bathtub most of the night, barking loudly any time he heard a boom. 

Otherwise, we couldn't have asked for a smoother roadtrip. Now comes the hardest part - adjusting the boys to these extreme temperatures. Walking them is only possibly in the early morning or late evening. During the day the sidewalks are burning hot and will hurt their paws. Usually they jump at any chance to go outside, but have learned really quickly here that it's not very fun. Boden will go out to go potty when called, but Thatcher usually chooses to stay inside and lie on the cool tile. The pool has eased the discomfort a little bit, and I think swimming is going to turn into one of their main forms of exercise for the summer. So the transition is in the works as we learn the tricks of living in a hot climate with big, shaggy dogs. I'm sad I have to leave them to go to back to work tomorrow, but I tend to be overly anxious. Let's face it, they usually sleep all day regardless of whether I'm there or not. 

Rest stop break, only 20 more hours to go!

Ready to get back in the car after a short

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.

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.

Snow monsters

Training: Week 3

For training class this week, we switched dogs. I took Thatcher and J. got Boden. Now, neither of the dogs is perfectly behaved in public. But I figured Thatcher would be a little bit easier than Boden, since he already knows a many of the things we learn in class. And since he's older and more mature. The logic is there, right? Unfortunately, my raw, leash-burned left hand begs to differ. These are a few lessons I learned with Thatcher that night:

1. He is strong. Really strong. I am no match.
2. He has mastered selective hearing. And the art of tuning out my voice completely.
3. He does not like being stuck with mom instead of dad.

Watching dad and Boden across the room

We worked on a few different things during class. First, we practiced heeling again. Despite my practice with Thatcher before class, he made it look like he had no idea what heeling meant. He forged in front of me every two steps, so I gave him a corrective tug every two steps, and my arms were already killing me 30 seconds into it. Second, we practiced heeling with an "about turn", which is basically doing a 180 shift in direction, while keeping the dog close at your left side. Thatcher fought against every turn, bracing his body every time he saw it coming. Later, we started on "come". One person would go at a time. The instructor held your dog's leash while you walked all the way across the room from them. You then call your dog to you as the instructor lets go of the leash, simple as that. I half expected Thatcher to run to J. and Boden when the instructor let go of his leash, but he booked it over to me as fast as he could. Finally, something he did perfectly. 

His next shining moment came when we started practicing sit-stays and down-stays. Thatcher has always been an expert at the stay command. I don't know why, but this is one area he excels and one area that we have practiced countless times since he was a puppy. So my arms finally got a rest while we worked on staying under distraction. All in all, the night went ok. I'm not going to lie, I prefer working with Boden. He at least pays attention to my voice, unlike Thatcher who just mournfully gazed across the room at J. the entire night. I'm not even exaggerating. Every time the instructor was talking or explaining something, Thatcher would lay in front of my diagonally, turning his body so that he was facing the direction J. was in across the room. Every once in a while, he would let out a sad yelp, trying to get J.'s attention. He's definitely a daddy's boy.

Lazy fights

Our Newfies take laziness to a whole new level. They play lying down. The ultimate goal: do not get up unless absolutely necessary. Most fights escalate into one or both of the dogs having to stand to get some leverage. But I spend many mornings sipping my coffee, with the background noise of quiet, playful growling while Thatcher and Boden roll around on their backs, pawing each other in the face. If they are using a bed or couch as their battleground, they've both agreed that the "safe zone" is mom or dad's lap. I've spilled countless cups of coffee from Boden suddenly scrambling up into my lap, hiding from Thatcher's attack. Nothing like hot coffee and a 100lb puppy being dumped into your lap at the same time. 

Selective hearing

Yesterday we made trip to the dog park, and while this time we had no falling-in-the-river mishaps, we did have one brief scare because of Boden. Whenever we first arrive, the dogs are ecstatic. Boden runs around like a mad man, not even flinching when we say his name. He will sprint 100 yards to the first dog or human he spots, leaving us to chase after him. This effect normally wears off after the first few minutes of excitement pass, but keep us on our toes for those minutes. The dog park is huge, several acres at least. We've come across owners frantically searching for their dogs, running up and down the trails yelling for them. Because most of it is woods, it would be an easy place to lose track of your dog. So we've always been super cautious to keep the dogs in sight. And that's how our small moment of panic occurred yesterday. 

We entered the park and Boden took off running across the trails to greet a dog he saw in the distance. We called for him, but with his selective hearing, this was pointless. Thatcher, J. and I jogged ahead to catch up with him. As we got closer, Boden took off for the next dog he saw - which happened to be even further in the woods. We hurried and tried to keep our eyes on Boden, but he disappeared between the trees. This went on for a minute or two, Boden in la-la land following all the dogs he could find, and us struggling to catch a glimpse of him as he zoomed through the woods. He finally circled back to the trail in hot pursuit of another dog, when he finally noticed us calling his name. Thatcher ran ahead and barked at Boden as if to tell him to get his butt over by us, and surprisingly Boden finally listened. After that, his craziness passed and both dogs stuck fairly close to us. Another crisis averted. 

Guilt trip

This is what I have to look at while I get ready for work each day. Thatcher and Boden are boys of routine. The moment I go upstairs to start getting dressed, they follow me and hop up on the bed, where they lie quietly, watching me with sad eyes. And this is why I feel guilty leaving the house every time. Those big brown eyes, always staring...

Be my Valentine

Twelve weeks

12 weeks today!

Boden is 12 weeks old today, and just over 30 lbs. I've really been noticing how much taller he is lately. He can now see out of the window in the backseat of the car without propping himself up on Thatcher's back. He can also drink out of the water tub in the backyard without having to stand on his makeshift step-stool (two pieces of wood stacked next to it). I swear it was just the other day that he fell into that water tub. The water level was at about half, so he had to really stand on his tip toes and lean in to take a drink. I happen to be watching as he tipped just a little too far in, lost his balance and dropped into the tub. He was so confused he started thrashing around frantically, so I had to run over and rescue him. Also, he has mastered stairs. Runs up and down them like a champ.

He's really becoming a little spitfire though. Poor Thatcher is never left alone for long. Just like us humans, he loses a lot of sleep due to Boden's new-found mischievous side. It's become a morning tradition for the three of us. I will wake up, or be woken up by one or both of the dogs, go downstairs and let them outside. Come back in and grab a cup of coffee. They will then commence their routine wrestling match. It mostly consists of them growling and mimicking each other's weird sounds. Otherwise, it's Thatcher on the offense, knocking Boden over every chance he gets. Boden, on the contrary, prefers a hit and run strategy. He'll run out and strike at Thatcher, then run and slide under the ottoman (which he just barely still fits under). As I write this, Boden is barking at Thatcher, taunting him to play. A wrestling match has begun.

 Throughout the roughhousing, many toys end up with missing limbs. We have dozens of dog toys littered all around our house, yet Boden prefers the items he isn't supposed to have, namely shoes. I remember losing several pairs of shoes to Thatcher, but I fear Boden is going to be much worse if we aren't careful. Most days when I get home, I find a shoe that was in the bedroom upstairs has made its way to the kitchen. Or a shoe that was in the back entryway has wandered to the upstairs hallway. So far, no terrible chew marks. But I'm starting to be aware.The entry way / shoe room is now safely guarded by a baby gate. Hopefully Boden doesn't learn to climb over it any time soon, I'd like to get past this puppy stage without compromising all my pairs of heels that I've finally started building back up since Thatcher's puppy days.


The moments I love the most with both dogs are those random little times they want to snuggle. Boden will walk over flop into my lap, or wait to be lifted up onto the couch with me. Thatcher's always been the same. Some mornings I'll wake up to him lying right next to me on the bed, quietly watching the squirrels out the window while he waits for me to wake up. Or I'll be working on a computer, and Thatch will climb right up onto the couch and rest his head in my lap. These are the moments that always make my heart melt. Right now is not one of those moments. Thatcher and Boden are lying on the floor right beneath my legs, staring at eachother and barking for no reason in the world. My legs keep getting lifted up by Thatcher's back, as he tries to reach Boden who keeps hiding under them.