Three Dog Day

                                                                           

                                                                                       

There Seems to Be an Art Critic in the House

Rummaging through my painting stuff, I came across these mutilated attempts. I can't decide if Bailey chewed on them because she liked them or hated them.

Which reminds me of a story. Early in our marriage, we acquired a dog--a Beagle/Brittany Spaniel mix. Juno was a puppy and, as puppies will do, she chewed up things. Including our checkbook. When John and I went to the bank to get a new one, the teller asked why and John said, "My wife chewed up the checkbook."

 The look that teller gave me was priceless.  It took a moment, but then John realized what he'd actually said and quickly corrected his mistake.

 I treasure the memory.

That's Juno, our first of many dogs, below--painted by John's uncle Robert Skemp--a well-known portrait painter and marine artist. Right good at dogs, too. It took him about twenty minutes.

 

Looking Around

 

Sisters From Different Mothers

                                                                                    

Everyone's an Art Critic--Bailey Update

Bailey removed two of my watercolor efforts from the shelf where I'd left them between some books and proceeded to chew on them.

She doesn't know much about art, but these were to her taste.

                                                                               

Bailey's come a long way from the fearful, mangy-looking critter John brought home. She'd evidently never been in a house and had to be dragged in; now it's her favorite place, especially the kitchen where food falls on the floor and there are often things to pre-wash.

She's a happy girl. We still have to chaperon her on walks as she's not yet spayed (and still reluctant to get in the car, plus we're reluctant to traumatize her when she's doing so well,) but she goes on walks without a leash and knows what Go to the house means. The crusted dirt and skin condition she arrived with were so bad I thought sure she had mange, but baths with special shampoo from the vet and fish oil on her food, along with daily brushing, have done the trick. She looks really good now.

She gets along fine with the rest of the pack.

That includes Otter who, on weekdays when her people are at work, always drops in for lunch.

I hear Jayna and Sandy asking What about the cats? Not a problem; she's pretty sure, given their tuxedo coats, that they're cousins or something. But I don't have any good pictures.

She's a sweet girl who's found her home. 

I didn't like those watercolors anyway.

The Bailey Report

 

Bailey is doing very well. She is getting along with Bob and Jenny and Otter. She is learning about riding in the truck. She has to be put in but as the ride progresses, she seems to enjoy it. She and John take walks with her off the leash and she knows now that the itchen is where good things happen.

She needed a bath VERY badly but we wanted her to settle in a bit before doing something that might be traumatic. (I doubt she'd ever had a bath.) But Thursday was warm and John gave her a bath on the front porch--lots of warm water and a soothing, anti-itch shampoo.

She did surprisingly well, thank goodness. The next step (probably next week) is to get her to the vet for shots and mange treatment meds. Eventually she'll be spayed, but we'll keep her up till then. 

We were concerned that her coat was dull and dry, and John got some fish oil to add to her diet. Then I spent an hour brushing her; an amazing amount of dead hair came off and underneath it some nice shiny hair.

So, real progress. She's a lovely dog and has fit in well--a nice addition to the family.

On a sad note, my older son and his wife had to say goodbye to their beloved Tally a few days ago. Never easy. But I suspect there's another lucky dog in their future.

Oops, We Did It Again

Meet Bailey.

Yes, I said that Jenny would be my last dog. But as it happens, John is as big a fool for Border Collies as I am for hounds. So, when a neighbor called, offering him this four-year-old girl, John asked what I thought and (surprise) I thought we might as well. Depending on how she and Jenny got along.

Bailey had been kept in a dog lot, probably never been in a house, and was not leash-broken. But with persistence and a lot of dog treats, we got her inside. She smells Very strong, but we won't subject her to a bath just yet. Oh yes, and she's going to have to be spayed. 

After a couple of hours inside, she was much more at ease; she had met a cat (who said, Come on and make my day;) she and Jenny had met, and, while Jenny is less than thrilled, she has decided to ignore the new bitch. I don't think there's going to be a problem.

Being a Border Collie, Bailey's smart as a whip. By evening she'd adjusted to the leash and learned what Treat and Sit mean.

Bobadog, as aways, is a gentleman.

Jenny the brat is grumbling a bit, but I believe it will pass. She's still my dog while Bailey will be John's.

Gotta love those ears.