Chloë Declared Queen for a Day (or Two)

 

Trying Schatzi’s bed.

Schatzi and I traded short vacations at each other’s house the past two weeks, and that works out really well for me. Since Schatzi is usually doing something that she shouldn’t be doing, it makes me look good (i.e., well behaved) in comparison. Even if I have to share Heather’s attention and napping time with Schatzi, even though she attacks my face every time we come through the front door, and even though she  gets to lick half of my post-dinner plates, I like having her around. This time I even got her to use my new bed, which was only fair since I had appropriated a couple of her beds the weekend previous.

Afternoon nap time in dueling beds.

Dachshunds parade through Llandover Woods in North Seattle.

Still, a few things might have worked out better. Walking in the park with Schatzi is still an adventure, since she wants to sniff every blade of grass and bark at every dog she passes, only to be scolded by Heather for doing it (or warned repeatedly in advance NOT to do it). Rinse and repeat. When Schatzi sees dogs or strangers approaching, the hair on her back stands up like a porcupine’s quills. She looks like one of those things you scrape your boots on before going inside. I wish I could get her to just relax and ignore everything. (Besides food, of course.) Just be chill, like me!

Another peeve from her visit: at night, Schatzi got to sleep in the bedroom with Mike and Heather (using my travel crate, no less!), while I am still exiled to the living room. However, thanks to daylight saving time starting, I haven’t been  launching my morning whine until nearly 6 a.m.! (We’ll see how long this lasts.)

Heather enjoys a two-dog afternoon.

Far and away, the best part of Schatzi staying over at my house is how often Heather tells her to defer to me, the Alpha Dog around here. In my house, Schatzi has to wait and let me me go first, whether it’s getting a treat, walking in or out the front door or even sprinting up the Stairway to Heaven to Heather’s bed. I go first.

“This is Chloë’s house,” Heather tells her. “Chloë goes first. Chloë is the Queen.” For the few days that Schatzi visits, anyway.

Oh well, I’ll take what I can get.

Chloë Has a Lazy Month

Chloë’s Stairway to Heaven.

January has been a slow month around here. Heather had surgery just before Christmas, and she was taking it easy for a long while. While painful for  her, this recuperation was nothing but good for me. Much more time was devoted to napping, in which I am always a willing participant. My “Stairway to Heaven,” the  two-step bridge to Heather’s side of the bed, had to be temporarily removed to aid Heather’s mobility, so Mike had to come into to the bedroom and lift me on and off the bed whenever I demanded it. Heather made it even more comfortable for me by folding over a down quilt for me to lie on. Being waited on hand and foot agreed with me.

Nap time.

Another plus: Mike took over supervision of all of my daily routine (eye-drop application, feeding, grooming, walking and disciplining) from Heather. For me, this was like going from military school to public school. I can get away with a lot more when Mike’s in charge, but I was pretty easy on him when we took our afternoon walks together with Heather staying home. Certainly more compliant than I usually am. So where’s my payoff, Mike?

Chloë and Schatzi guard driveway.

Heather got more mobile as the month wore on, and she started walking with us again. This was a good thing, especially when my little pal Schatzi came for a sleepover, because there was no way Mike could have handled walking both of us both of us at once. Especially with Schatzi being the serial pooper that she is.

Chloë takes over Schatzi’s bed.

Anyway, the sun came out one afternoon when Schatzi was here, and we sat out on the sidewalk for a while, guarding the driveway. I am pleased to report not a single cat or squirrel passed while we were lying there.

Still, it was tiring work. After our longer afternoon walk, I gladly settled into Schatzi’s bed for a snooze. After that, my own bed seemed old and lumpy. Maybe it’s time for a new one.

 

Chloë Goes Nocturnal

Schatzi (right) would rather let sleeping dogs lie.

After all the summer traveling, it felt good to stay home in the fall. We had lots of visitors, too: David and Linda from Syracuse, George and Debbie from Juneau, and Schatzi twice. I made sure everybody knew where my treats were, and when I wanted to be left alone. Funny, everybody got the messages except Schatzi. I had to put her in her place a couple of times. My house, my rules.

Meanwhile, all my medical appointments went off without a hitch. My heart murmur specialists in Tacoma gave me another positive report, meaning no meds or other other precautions, tleast for now. We then took our daily walk at Point Defiance Park, which has great views and big trees. Heather and Mike ate a late lunch at The Red Hot, a neighborhood restaurant specializing in hot dogs and sausages, but for some odd reason they made me wait in the car. 

Owen Beach, Point Defiance Park, Tacoma.

When I had my “senior checkup” with my personal physician, Dr. Aimee Kimmel, she told Heather I am the healthiest senior dog she sees. Best of all, my weight was down to a mere 20.75 pounds, earning me an immediate rations raise from Heather. Unfortunately, Dr. Kimmel didn’t agree with the opinions of some other of my admirers that I am too thin. That diagnosis might have increased my daily menu even more, but I’ll take what I can get.

Apparently not taken at 4 a.m.

While Dr. Kimmel adjusted the dosage on some of my daily meds, she could provide no good prescription for curing what has become the bane of my existence, the solitary blemish on my otherwise near-perfect behavior: Waking up and whining for attention between 4 and 6 a.m. every night. Since last spring (memories differ on the exact date), at that hour I am wide awake and ready for one thing: getting into bed with Heather and Mike. They are my pack. It’s where I belong. I am simply calling it to their attention.

Unfortunately, it’s not allowed. Why getting into their bed is not allowed between 4 and 6 a.m. when it is allowed–lo, even encouraged!–at other hours of the morning, afternoon and evening, I am not smart enough to understand. I can’t just check my Rolex, you know. 

The pack model their Tuscarora caps in Discovery Park’s north lookout.

Anyway, Heather (with Mike’s consent) tried many ways to cure me of this habit. She started by sternly commanding “Chloë, NO!” followed by “KNOCK IT OFF!” This cut off my whining immediately, but it only for 5 or 10 minutes at a time, and led to a subconscious dread that prevented Mike and Heather from falling back to sleep between my whines. Then they tried keeping me up later, and then left my crate door permanently open, so I could roam the bedroom and the whole first floor of the house if I wanted. They even tried moving my office bed to the floor at Heather’s bedside for a while so they could be closer together, but I never used it. So they moved it back to the office, and one night I even slept in it there. The next ploy was melatonin, a natural sleep aid, with a 3mg dose just before bedtime in a “chewable” tablet.  (Hardly; even alongside my usual bedtime treats, Mike has to force the tiny things down my throat.) After a couple of weeks, the melatonin may be making me fall asleep faster and sleep sounder at 10 p.m or midnight, but so far it has done nothing to change my sleep pattern at 4:30 or 5 a,m. Since Mike’s alarm doesn’t beep until 6, they are not pleased.

Daybed, night bed.

Given my newfound nocturnal freedom, most recently I am choosing to sleep in my living room bed, where I already spend most other hours of a typical day. Heather and Mike still sleep in their bedroom, but now there’s a wall between us and they keep the bedroom door tightly shut, so my nightly whine is less audible to them. This arrangement has worked better for them, but it’s far from perfect. I have already overheard Heather talking about earplugs, so that could be their next tactic. We shall see. Frankly, it’s a miracle they still love me!

 

Chloë Takes a Walk in the Park

 

Schatzi in Orange

Staying on Schatzi’s Tail.

Right in the middle of a hectic week of packing for our summer trip, Schatzi showed up for a sleep-over. I was actually glad to see her, as her presence insured a heightened awareness of the needs of dogs and diminished angst about our imminent departure.

I let Schatzi mix it up with me a few times, but when we got out on our walks, I was having none of her buttinski behavior. Imagine, every place I stuck my snout, she was pushing in to the same spot right behind. Whenever I peed, she peed on the same ground. I know I’m supposed to be a role model, but sometimes this gets tiresome. So with Heather holding Schatzi’s leash and Mike tending mine, I make sure to keep us comfortably behind her as much as possible.

But Schatzi always brings out the Cesar Millan in Heather, I guess. She’s always telling Schatzi to do something–or not to do something else. Pointing the spotlight at Schatzi makes things much better for me.

Heather vainly tries to tell two dachshunds what to do.

Anyway, Schatzi stayed long enough for a anther long walk in the park, this time with her owner Caroline along and therefore much less interference in my personal space. Then it was back to packing and cleaning. I was glad to see I had more luggage than Mike and Heather and that my food bag was heavier than their suitcases. Our departure seems on schedule. Almost time to roll!

Chloë Surveys Her Countenance

Chloë on the trail.

I had a tough week after my pal Charlie left. Nearly every day was rainy, which means I wind up with a muddy belly after my afternoon walk. Not comfortable for anyone! Then Heather went away for a weekend with her sister Annabelle, so I was stuck home with Mike. Heather must have snuck away without saying goodbye to me, so it wasn’t until Mike and I walked to the park in the afternoon that I realized she wasn’t just hiding in the office scrunched up in front of her computer, she  wasn’t home all! Even so, I didn’t want to accept it, so I stopped every few feet, turned and looked longingly back towards the house, like Jimmy Durante waving goodnight  on his 1950s TV show. Goodnight, Heather, wherever you are.

Berry Ball

Then, the day after she returned from her annual sister weekend, she went downtown for an all-day work meeting and dinner, meaning I had to spend another day alone with Mike. By this time I was resigned to it, so I lightened up a little and let him throw the Berry Ball for me a few times. Besides, Mike’s much easier on the grooming and tooth-brushing than Heather is. So there were a  few positives.

Another encouraging thing I’ve noticed: I was apprehensive about how my face would look post-surgery, but apparently it’s not nearly as grotesque as I had feared. Charlie didn’t even comment about my missing eye when he visited, but he was already aware of what to expect before he arrived, and his mother always told him not to say anything bad about somebody. He’s a good boy, that Charlie.

Here’s winking at you!

But in recent weeks,I’ve noticed on our walks  that strangers still smile when they see me coming, often calling me “cute,” “so cute” or even “adorable,” and sometimes wanting to ask questions about my breed or even pet me, all of which is fine as long as they have a treat in their hands. Still, as they approach me, they can usually only see my shape and my prancing gait. They don’t get a closeup of my face unless they happen to be slithering along the ground at my eye level. Maybe if they got to know me better, they wouldn’t think I was so cute. Still, I take their interest and their joy as a compliment, as long as we get back home for my dinner in time.

Schatzi and Chloë watch the Kraken.

Moreover, none of the dogs I’ve encountered lately seem to care about it. Most would rather sniff my butt than lick my face, anyway. My little buddy Schatzi, who hadn’t seen me since the operation, stayed with us for a whole weekend and didn’t bring up my missing eye at all. She’s not one to be polite, either. On the other hand, she can be so dense that she might not have even noticed.

 

Chloë Admits She Was Naughty, Not Nice

Berry Ball

A couple of posts ago I introduced readers to my two newest favorite toys, the Troll and the Berry Ball. At that time, we couldn’t remember where the Berry Ball came from, or how long it had been in the house. Luckily, two of my regular readers (shall I refer to them as the Chloëttes?) helped me figure it out.

First, reader Ruth showed us where it came from: Chewy.com. My Berry Ball is actually a Planet Dog Orbee-Tuff Raspberry Treat Dispensing Dog Chew Toy! It is touted as indestructible, and so far it has been that. It is also supposed to emit a minty scent to dogs, and that’s for me to know and you to find out, if you dare. But–there’s always a but–while it has holes at both ends and the larger one (“the Treat-Spot”) is “perfect for stuffing,”  that’s not likely. The larger hole is so tiny that getting any treat into or out of it would be exceedingly difficult for man or beast. Its Chewy web page also claims, “This toy delivers 100 percent of a dog’s daily requirement of rompoflavin, chompohydrates, and dietary fun.” The jury is still out on that one, although gnawing it has been my primary Berry Ball activity.

Chloë and Schatzi.

Even if I don’t use it as a treat dispenser, Berry Ball remains my favorite toy, dependably fetched first thing in the morning and chased spiritedly before every meal. But learning it was purchased via Chewy.com didn’t explain how Berry Ball ended up in my living room. Then reader Caroline–my pal Schatzi’s owner, my sometime innkeeper and personal financial adviser– chimed in that such a toy was part of the famed and much lusted after Schatzi Collection. And since my young pal  had stayed a few nights with us shortly after we returned to Seattle from our summer trip, the initial arrival of the Berry Ball into my domain was clear. Schatzi brought it, and while she was there I stole it from her to keep as my own. I had plenty of toys of my own, but I wanted hers. It made me happy.

The Troll

 

But today I am remorseful. Such  a dereliction of decency on my part would be bad enough, but this was second theft–from another dog, no less! It inspired me revisit my earlier appropriation of the Troll, the cat toy I picked up at my aunts’ house in Syracuse last summer, took across the country with me and treasured ever since. At first, I was pleased with myself for capturing that prize from those two scaredy-cats, but in retrospect I realized this incident was just my first step in a spiral of lies and criminal behavior. I am ashamed of myself, and unless I can nip this behavior in the bud, I could be a raging kleptomaniac by the time I’m 13. And I can’t have that; I consider myself basically a good, moral dog.

Luckily, this recent deluge of self-awareness came at a fortuitous time, right before Christmas, when everybody (well, Mike and Heather, my Syracuse aunts and my cleaning friend Jere) is making a list and checking it twice, letting Santa know who’s been naughty or nice. Admitting my past sins now should put me put me in much better position for the near future. Santa’s coming and my stocking by the fireplace looks like it’s filled. I can hope.

Chloë Faces Fall

Schatzi gets a belly rub.

It didn’t take long after our summer-long trip trip for us to get back into the swing of things. Just a few days after our return, Schatzi came over for a short stay. I was excited to see her at first, and she seemed a bit more grown up since springtime. Aftr the initial thrill, however, she started to bug me. She still aggravated Heather when we walked together, and I don’t like to see Heather get cranky. Besides, Schatzi was horning in on my affection time, and I couldn’t allow too much of that.

Just a few days after Schatzi left, Mike, Heather and I into Heather’s car right after breakfast and drove onto the highway. For the first few miles I thought another long trip was starting. Then I realized my bed wasn’t raised to window level, so I figured we weren’t going too far. Our destination was Summit Veterinary Referral Center in Tacoma, where I underwent the cardiology tests that I had conveniently put out of my mind during the whole summer trip.

Our pumpkin Chloë pauses with pumpkins on Magnolia Boulevard.

The experience wasn’t too bad for me. No sedation was required, all the staff people were very nice, and it didn’t take too long. I got treats. The doctor came out to the car to deliver the diagnosis: “Degenerative valve in heart causing murmur,” a condition not uncommon in older, smaller dogs. “No heart enlargement or visible symptoms like coughing, tired, lethargic, etc.,” the report said. “Recommended annual screening (we’ll see about that!). If heart gets enlarged, medication can slow it, but not necessary at this stage.”

Mike and his political consultant vote in bed, a Washington State tradition.

So that’s a relief. I’m feeling fine, and there’s going to be a follow-up examination after Thanksgiving with my personal physician Dr. Kimmel. We’ll  discuss my condition and general health with her and take it from there.

In the meantime, “Par-tay!” Fall colors are out in the neighborhood, although recently there has been a winter chill in the air. Baseball playoffs are finally over, thank goodness, and the colder weather means more frequent napping with Heather. Finally, all those awful political ads are over! The voting is important, however. That’s why I provided sage input to Mike and Heather while they voted in bed this week. Dogocracy lives! Joe Biden would be proud of us.

 

 

 

Chloë Gets Ready to Roll

Packed for the trip.

The past few weeks were hectic, with packing, route planning and getting the house and yard ready for our prolonged absence during our drive to the East Coast and back. With that in mind, I made sure to pee in each corner of of my domain, trying to give all cats and raccoons a remembrance of my presence  while I’m gone. Unfortunately, Mike’s repeated attempts to get his sprinkler coverage right no doubt washed away all of my best intentions.

Schatzi’s new dining spot.

Despite the bustle, the pack was able to get over to Caroline’s and Schatzi’s house to see their brand-new kitchen renovation before we hit the road. Details were not completely finished when we visited, but everything had been installed except the kitchen sink, so Schatzi and I might have to clean all the dishes. The new floor and cabinets are very modern-looking and sleek, but for me the highlight is certainly Schatzi’s built-in feeding station, which is strategically located a just few inches off the ground, so it’s at the right hright for her to chow downwhile more importantly holding the bowls in place to achieve total licking-the-bowl perfection. I’m sure she’ll really enjoy her kibble, yogurt and sardines! I only wish there were a couple of additional bowl portals for guests, like a motel’s breakfast buffet with side-by-side chafing dishes. I guess I’ll still have to eat off the floor when I’m vacationing over there.

Have nose, will travel.

There was one piece of concerning news for me before we hit the road. At my last vet visit about two weeks ago, I tipped the scales at 22.1 pounds, approaching my all-time highest weight, which has been creeping upward since Heather took over my feeding chores.  On our past journeys across the continent, for me it’s been all sympathy, extra treats and an occasional cup of ice cream. However, between the frequent tugs on my leash and admonitions of “MUTE” when I do too much whining in the car and a potential reduction of my rations and treats, this year’s ride may be much more bumpy. We’ll see!

Chloë Reviews Her Positions

Schatzi and Chloë tussle over stock options.

With spring comes my annual strategy session with my personal financial advisor and sometime hotelier, Caroline. As a senior dog well-versed in the intricacies of investing, I’ve been trying to impart some of my seasoned understanding to Caroline’s Schatzi, so I encouraged the young Schatz to tag along with Caroline that morning and attend my session. Mike and Heather were allowed to come, too, but just for backup and in case I needed to take notes.

Naptime on Wall Street.

While Caroline and her associate Rory discussed my investment positions and streamed impressive graphs and tables onto a large TV on the wall, Schatzi and I tussled, sniffed each other’s butts and eventually retired to opposite ends of the conference table for a well-earned nap. And why not? Obviously, no snacks would be falling on the floor during this session. I’ll have to remember to return for the next open house with catered hors d’oeuvres.

When everyone finally got up to leave, Caroline transferred her computer to the floor, so Schatzi and I could take a closer look at the changes and projections for my portfolio in the short- and long-term. Fortunately, I find this financial stuff easier to understand than the NFL salary cap.

Schatzi and Chloë gain valuable financial insight.

It was a productive meeting. Everything Caroline went over reinforced the analysis I had previously imparted to Schatzi: Don’t worry, stay the course. I certainly realize no one is immune from rampant inflation. Believe me, when every visit to the vet costs more than it used to, and a box of  Vita Bones  at Fred Meyer zooms from $2.39 to $4.29, I hear about it!

I resist panicking, however. I advised Schatzi to adhere to one of Warren Buffett’s favorite theories: “Be fearful when others are greedy and greedy when others are fearful.” Schatzi seemed to grasp the concept.

Chloë Finds a New Neighborhood Landmark

Resting before dinner.

It has been a cold and rainy spring. Flannel sheets still adorn Mike and Heather’s bed, and I have been taking full advantage of that warmth when I burrow in next to Heather every morning while Mike exercises. I am definitely getting the better of that deal.

My dachshund pal  Schatzi was over here a lot, since her kitchen is being renovated. Schatzi can’t be trusted over there because she tried to rip down plastic sheathing that the contractor had installed. This week Schatzi and Caroline moved into an Air B’n’B in Magnolia while the kitchen’s being finished. Schatzi gets her own built-in feeding station in the remodel. I can’t wait to try it out!

Fetching at the water tower.

Heather, Mike and I have been doing a lot of walking around the neighborhood instead of into the park. That way I can take advantage of lying prone in all the lush lawns, and Mike and Heather can admire the landscaping and the bountiful rhododendrons blooming everywhere. On some days we wind up by the water tower, usually another favorite location for ball-throwing and retrieving. but I wasn’t too interested in throwing the ball there recently; too many distractions.

Free treats? Sign me up!

Anyway, one day on our way home, we passed something much more interesting than my ball: A homeowner had installed one of those Free Library kiosks near his sidewalk, except instead of books this station dispensed free dog biscuits. I marked the spot in my mental GPS,  so I can return frequently.

Aunts Susie and Debby are coming this week, our first overnight guests since the last time Juneau George and Debbie stayed here pre-pandemic. It will be good to have family around again, although I’ll have to train them about where the downstairs treats are kept. I hope my training methods are still as sharp after the long layoff.