First Night Home

Time flies

They say time flies when you're having fun. Well, hard to believe, but we've been having fun with little miss Scout for a year now. One year ago she arrived on the scene. Time for a flashback.

Double parked

Poor Max doesn't have an aggressive bone in his body, so when Scout arrived on the scene she quickly established her dominance. Max was enjoying a cozy moment with me on the couch, when Scout intervened. She's like a bull in a china shop and has no concept of personal space, especially when it comes to Max. And what do he do? Nothing. He just gives in to her time and time again.

My favorite clowns

Cold Front

The dogs won't come in tonight, despite my beckoning. This is the season in Texas where the weather can turn on a dime. This afternoon we had warm 70-degree weather, and now it's in the 40's. The cold front. My dogs' favorite event. It's almost as though that cold air blowing through their fur gives them this inexplicable energy. They dart through the yard from end to end, and refuse to come indoors. While I'm hovering and relishing the warmth inside, they are frolicking in the cold air outdoors... and loving every minute of it.

Crazy Toes

They say Scout is part Great Pyrenees, a large, gorgeous, white mountain dog. As a puppy she showed promise, but as a grown girl, she's not nearly big enough. I'm not complaining. Even still, I have no doubt there is some Pyrenees in her. She's got one of their characteristics that can't be ignored... crazy toes. Great Pyrenees are known to have a double dew claw on their rear feet, and Scout is lucky enough to have inherited this trait. They're quite bizarre and comical to look at. In fact, they remind me of those socks I used to wear as a child that had the little pom-poms at the heel. Just another one of those little things that make her irresistible.

Demon Dog

Are you talking to me?

Deep in thought

To Bee or Not To Bee

I came home from work one day last week, a day I had left the dogs in the yard. It was a beautiful fall day, and they were enjoying the weather. I walked in the door to discover something was amiss with Scout. It seems she was stung or bitten by something, a bee perhaps, and her muzzle was swelling up. If it wasn't so alarming, I would have laughed at her. It wasn't serious. Nothing a little Benadryl couldn't fix, and she didn't seem to mind one bit.

The Cutest Boy

If Max and Scout were pumpkins

That's definitely Scout on the left.

Happy Halloween

Some day I'll master the art of photographing dogs... without the glowing eyes.

Grand Theft

I love this series of photos. These truly reflect the personalities of Scout and Max. Enjoy a good laugh!

More on Max

Max is my boy. He's now officially a seven-year-old golden retriever. The very rare, very exotic golden retriever. I always say that, despite the fact that they are amongst the most popular breeds of dogs. I can't help it. I think they are the perfect breed. My parents got me and my sisters our first golden for Christmas when we were quite young. We've had them in our family ever since, so of course when it came time to choose a dog of my own, I could only consider the golden. I love them. Any time I'm out and about and I have a golden siting, I can't help but get excited. They truly are the best dogs.

Now as for Max, well, he's merely the best of the best. I have been absolutely spoiled with this boy, and after having Scout join the scene, I am more and more convinced of this fact. I've had him since he was 6 weeks old, and while puppyhood will be puppyhood, I really have no complaints. He is completely dependable, absolutely faithful, always huggable. He's my giant teddy bear. "Big hug" is actually one of his tricks, where I open my arms to him, and he'll walk up to me and put his head up on my shoulder. I love a dog with substance, and he loves it when I wrap my arms around him and just pet him. He's a complete pushover without an aggressive bone in his body.

Now being a golden, he has some athleticism in him, but before we moved into our house, he was the laziest retriever. I'd throw a ball for him, and he'd casually stroll over to it, pick it up, then lay down and chew on it. Since the house, he's become more ball obsessed than ever, and will actually run after the ball, and occasionally bring it back. He's much better in the water, and when there's a pool, lake, creek, you name it, present, I can't keep him out of it.

Now inevitably, the most endearing trait about Max is the fact that he's an absolutely clown. His face is very expressive and his personality is very carefree. He's got these eyebrows that move, ears that perk up, a mouth that smiles, and eyes that sparkle. And now, now that he's a seven-year-old boy, he's got the beginnings of white fur around his eyes and muzzle. His coloring had many depths to begin with, but the white is just adding another subtle layer.

Birthday Boy

Since it's just after midnight, technically, Max's birthday was yesterday... but you get the idea.

About Scout

Scout is my little girl. Officially a one-year-old and no longer small, I still call her my little girl nonetheless. She was the result of a weak moment at the mall last holiday season. There was an SPCA adoption site at a nearby mall, and I was wrapping up some shopping. The sound of dog barking caught my attention, and I had to investigate. She was irresistible. A little white fuzzball. As I said, I had a weak moment... and as they say, the rest is history. She was advertised as a Great Pyrenees mix, but looks quite a bit like a white retriever, with freckles and broken ears, and thankfully is much closer to the size of a retriever... 60 lbs versus the standard 100+ of a GP.

She has a way of making her way into your heart. She's a total spaz and has this zest for life that's completely endearing. She can also settle down long enough to curl up with you. She's a cuddler, and loves to snuggle up with me on the couch. She's got sass and loves to woof at you in a manner of talking back, which I promise to capture on video here.

I call her my little girl, I call her little miss sassafras, I call her a diva. As I was saying, she's irresistible.

Birthday Girl

Want to go for a walk?

Every time, without fail, when I ask the dogs this question I get this reaction from Max... his ears perk up, he cocks his head to one side, and immediately I know the answer. A resounding... Yes! Yes! Can we? Can we? Can we really? Can we go? A walk? Now? Really? Really? Really? Yes! Yes!

Wake Up Call

Sharing my house with a puppy has been a lesson in patience... Patience and barricades. I have found that I don't have the heart or diligence to crate train dogs. One yelp in the middle of the night, and that puppy is in the bed with me. So it was with Scout. We slept much better that way. As she approaches her first birthday, she has grown to be quite a reliable dog. The barricades have come down. There are still times when I second guess this decision, but most days we do alright.

My favorite part of having this grown girl is my morning wake up calls. I use the radio to drag myself out of bed most days, and thanks to a Scout that can wander freely, I can no longer use the snooze button. Each morning, as the radio starts playing, she gets up and comes to the side of the bed where she lays her head down and waits for me to pet her. If I ignore her or stop petting her, she reaches up a paw and tries to grab my hand. Within minutes, I'm up and moving, and that's a much more pleasant wake up than a buzzer.

The Herd

You might think there was a small herd of wild animals living in this place if you were here last night. Maybe it was the ever so slight hint of crisp fall weather in the Texas air. Maybe it was the impromptu dog party in the neighborhood park. Whatever it was, the dogs were crazy. They do this on occasion. Run laps throughout the house. Typically they're limited to laps around the dining room table. Last night, they chose to run the place end to end. It was hysterical. It started out with what sounded like a stampede of water buffalo in the living room. Then Max would sprint through the foyer down the hall towards the bedrooms. Then Scout would follow. Them Max would fly back through the foyer to the living room. Then Scout would follow. They did this, first Max, then Scout quickly following, over and over again. I sat watching their antics trying not to laugh too loudly for fear of disturbing. I desperately wanted to grab my camera, but knew there was no point. I have yet to master the art of photographing moving targets. And when I do try, it seems all my photos turn out like this...

The Little Things Make Me Laugh

Last night, I was on my evening walk with Scout and Max. This is our little ritual. I have come to realize that no matter how much fetch we play in the yard, the dogs never really settle down until they've had a chance to get out and explore the neighborhood. We live in a neighborhood with great, old oak and pecan trees. Being the dogs that they are, they insist on sniffing everything vertical. So we are stopped next to one of these large oaks, and Max is nose down on one side of the tree. Scout meanwhile takes to sniffing around the opposite side. As they slowly approach one another, Max practically jumps out of his skin as he realizes there is something on the other side of the tree. You could actually see the wheels turning as he identifies said object, and processes the object as none other than... Scout. The look of both surprise and and relief on his face made me laugh out loud.

This is just one of those little moments that inspired me to start this blog. Enjoy and laugh along.