Today is the RELEASE DAY for 100 Dogs & Counting.
With all the hoopla and hope, I almost didn’t post to this blog. Continue reading “My Hope and My Thanks”
My Hope and My Thanks
Category: Hops
Puppy Play Yard
My husband Nick and I are a pretty good team. I’m the ‘idea’ person and he does all the work.
This weekend, though, Frankie and I were his helpers on a project that has been on my wishlist ever since we began fostering.
I’ve been angling for a ‘dog fence’ for quite some time. Our little hillside farm has six acres, plenty of room for a dog to run, but those acres are surrounded by farmer’s field, woods, one testy neighbor, and a road. It’s rare the foster dog (like Hops) that I can allow off-leash.
I worry too much about losing a dog in the woods, the endless cornstalks, the gun-owning neighbor’s property, or chasing the goats across the road. (The goats live in an invisible fence which makes them readily accessible to the dogs. I’m pretty certain it’s only a matter of time before the wolf or coyotes that have been spotted in our area nab them.)
Ever since Frankie discovered the vultures on the top fence line, Continue reading “Puppy Play Yard”
The Difference Ten Pounds (and Two Months) Make
Frankie has another new puppy – only this puppy is ten pounds bigger and at least ten times more trouble than little Zander.
Hops is a gangly, sweet, goofy boy who somehow already seems bigger than when he got here on Saturday. He’s forty pounds, but his feet are so big he looks like he’s wearing galoshes, so I’d say that even though he’s six months old, he’s far from finished growing.
He routinely runs into things and can’t get his long legs out of his own way. He’s labeled a lab mix, but looks like he was put together with spare parts from a handful of breeds possibly including shepherd.
He’s in that awkward adolescence phase, tripping over himself, with a loose discombobulated swagger that makes me smile and think of teenagers trying (and failing) to look cool.
Nothing on the counters is safe. Yesterday he polished off the cream cheese, sampled the newspaper, and [insert frustrated shriek and several curse words] broke Continue reading “The Difference Ten Pounds (and Two Months) Make”
