Month: January 2024

Sky Report

Posted in France, WolfhoundTagged , 7 Comments

This isn’t working out the way I thought it would.

Long ago, toward the tail-end of a crumbling marriage, I decided I needed a dog. Only a Wolfhound would do. I found a serious breeder with pups who lived out in the desert and made an appointment to see her. She forgot and wasn’t home, so I toddled around her dog pens. An unlocked one contained a friendly-enough dog. There must have been a bench in his pen, as I sat down with him, just for a minute, to wait. What felt like a couple of minutes stretched to nearly an hour, perhaps the calmest hour of my life. I was actually sorry the breeder showed up. That memory of warm desert breezes circling me and this quiet, accepting dog have sustained me through some terrible times.

A pup came home with me and spent the evening’s dinner party sleeping, plastered to my chest. Calm: it was heaven. The next morning he went home. Another nail in the coffin of that marriage.

A couple of months ago it seemed like a good time to try again. No such thing as too much zen. More serious breeders, another long drive and hey presto, Sky was mine. The thing is, she’s antsy, not at all calm.

Here she is, barking at Gandhi.

Here she is, barking at shadows passing across the glass.

Here is her favorite toy, after about three minutes in her possession. She likes to pick at it, scattering those rubber bits around the room. Bonus points for muddying the floor. No points for reminding me that she’s a kennel dog, not even remotely house-trained. I’ll spare you a photo of that.

She’s settling in. We ripped her away from her dog-dads, her remaining children and maybe fifteen of her sisters and her cousins and her aunts. It was quite an adjustment but she seems okay with the basic concept. She adores Jacques.

She is gorgeous and has charm to burn but calm, zen, forget it. She’s quite emotional, coming up to me every couple of hours just to boop noses and get a hug. She is constantly looking for food and is tall enough to explore the countertops. She gets that going outside is good — treats! — but hasn’t worked out that going inside is a no, just no. We have a routine now that starts with her waking me up around 8, fair enough, and going from there. She knows every daily ritual and insists that we follow through, on time.

And me? I’m the charlady, washing or steam-cleaning the floor every day, though to be fair it’s nearly always mud, now; changing sheets and floor towels about every other day. Lots of laundry. Lots of pet deodorizer. And no zen.

Jacques Report

Posted in FranceTagged , , , 14 Comments

I think last time I mentioned that Jacques has arthritis. I wondered about it over the summer, when he hesitated to jump into the car. Now it’s winter. We had weeks of cold and rain, followed by weeks of freezing temperatures, now apparently to be followed by more weeks of cold and rain. It’s hitting him pretty hard.

I made arrangements for Sky during that first rainy period, when Jacques could still have played with her. Organizing the trip to pick her up was a major operation, so I went ahead, rather than cancel. And of course with all the medications, I figured Jacques would feel better. Wrong.

Last night he was vomiting and shaking with pain. I take CBD, but I don’t know enough about dosages to give it to such a little guy. But last night I thought I’d better give it a try. I gave him something from the vet for his tummy, then a squirt of “pet-strength” CBD, something I had reserved for Sky’s more rambunctious moments; I now believe that those tales of Wolfhounds being couch potatoes indoors are urban legend.

It probably takes 20-30 minutes to take effect. I gave him 10 and squirted some more into his mouth. 10 minutes later, he started to relax. if he started shaking again, a little more. Finally he settled into sleep, as did I. This morning I saw that he had moved around the bed a bit. Sweet, getting back to normal, I thought, especially when he jumped off the bed and came downstairs on his own. For the last few days, I’ve been carrying him.

But he won’t eat, not even treats. One thing and another, I’m worried. We’re going back to the vet this afternoon. I’ll tell her about the CBD. It’s the single most effective thing he’s been given so far. And yes, he got a little bit more this morning.

I’m baking CBD-infused dog treats. I’m baking CBD buds to make more. If you buy the stuff pre-made, you’ll empty your bank account in no time. I’m going to try to tempt my little pup with his favorite meal: yogurt mixed with turmeric and apricot jam. We’ll see how it goes.

What was I thinking?

Posted in dogs, FranceTagged , 19 Comments

Well, I actually know what I’ve been thinking for most of my life: “I want a Wolfhound.” Plain and simple. We went to a lot of dog shows when I was a kid. I liked a lot of the dogs, but the Wolfhounds were always the ones that looked right to me.

So here is a tiny photo of my new dog, Skyfall, but you can call her Sky, with her breeder, winning at some show about a year ago, maybe longer. She has gotten a little grayer since then, but haven’t we all?

I was sitting around the house, contemplating my life, wondering what I was going to do in 2024. My thesis has been canceled. Piano practice is an hour a day, tops. I can only knit so much, read so much, etc. My love life is nonexistent, maybe permanently. That’s when it hit me: opportunity. Nobody to ask me what I’m thinking, getting a huge dog like that. And what I was suddenly thinking is yes, it’s time.

Well, not time now, exactly, but the big Wolfhound specialty was coming up in two weeks. I had to go. Just to look. Of course.

Huge respect to folks who rescue dogs. That takes patience and dedication that I just don’t have. I can be neurotic; I count on my dogs to help me be at least somewhat sane. I grew up in a big family where none of us kids were wanted. My life’s inner work has been to prove to myself and my brother and sisters that we have value anyway. My dogs have to have always been wanted. I have my limits. Thus Piper, who was before this blog. Thus Jacques and now Sky.

So, Nantes, big dog show. Chaotic, disorganized, nothing like the shows in the States. I think I showed you the zombie Santa — you say Stitch, I say zombie Santa — a while ago. Freaked-out dogs literally shitting themselves from the stress, right in the ring. And at the far back of all this, where the stench was nearly unbearable, were the Wolfhounds, lying around wondering what the fuss was all about.

And one dog was hoovering up the awards. She deserved them, no question, but there was this other one that caught my eye. Absent the golden girl, she might have taken the prize. I had found my breeders. I didn’t know it, but I had also found my dog.

On Day Two of the madness, we talked for a bit. Frederic and Flavio have been at this for long enough to quickly figure out that I was a keeper. Photos of the house and garden helped. Then they trotted out Sky. “What about her?” and just like that, my schedule was accelerated by about six months.

Sky is three. She had a litter of pups last spring. Once and done for Fred and Flav. A deal with another breeder fell through. And now here she is, a kennel dog getting used to life in a house. It’s mid-winter, so the mud situation is interesting. But here I am with a new lap dog.