The Candy Dish Litter and Shakespeare?

Well, we had to call them that, didn't we? Updated pictures are in our Picasa album and on their litter page. The webcam didn't work in the long run. We have satellite internet -- all we can get out here -- and it wasn't compatible with any webcam service we could find. Sigh. Maybe by our next litter they will have run cable or gotten a decent wireless out here.

However, thanks to my brilliant daughter, Johannah the web designer, we have the next best thing: a chatroom with a slideshow! We're usually there around seven or eight in the evening and sometimes you can find people hanging out there in the afternoon too. The slideshows there have pictures from Candy's litter and Juliet's as well. (Yes, Juliet has a litter too...that's what comes of saying, "I really doubt XXX will get pregnant this time; she's already missed two breedings. Let's just breed XXX as a 'backup.'" That is how you get XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX puppies.)

Meanwhile all pups are doing great -- we've moved the Candy Dish downstairs to the doggy den now where they have more room. And Juliet's babies, the Shakespeare Litter, are snuggled in upstairs. I am running back and forth between them all day and much of the night...more on the Prima Donna Mother later.

Sharyn

Surprises from whippets

Everyone, including me, likes to talk about how wonderful and affectionate whippets are, but it's good to remember they are also "kill hounds" and to live with one means the occasional...surprise. This came last week from my friend Cheryl in California.
------------------------------------------
Subject: Did Big Mo do it again or did Woot take up the sport?

Hi all

Late this morning I was greeted by a wet and dead field mouse right on a pillow placed in my path to the bathroom.

Does this give Big Mo 5 squirrels, 1 scrub blue jay and umpteen + 1 small rodents or does this mean that Woot has learned the family trade, so to speak?

I rather think the latter as Mo has previously brought in only the trophy sized kills - the squirrels and the blue jay. Also it was Woot who ran over and playfully tossed the little bugger's carcass for me after she heard me gasp and ran to see if I had found the prize.

Hear tell that one of them, Loki (Button), has already taken down some gophers.

So......you might consider telling the small creatures that live near you that there is an assassin in their midst. Unless you have gophers of course and then you might as well keep it a secret from them as long as you can.

Big Mo took her first trophy just before age one and went into season the same week.

Just so you know.

Hope you have a pleasant day with no startling discoveries.

Regards

Cheryl

And a followup the next day--

Subject: Now she's gone too far!

Before I tell you how bad Woot has become, I want you to know that I've received emails from the families of all but one of the puppies telling me that their pup is also a hunter. From gophers to squirrels to field mice - nothing seems to be very safe.

Woot has gone too far with this though. She's gone from -0- to 60 in less than a week. There were the two field mice left in the hall for me on consecutive days. A couple of days ago I was about to go to sleep when I saw that she had left one on the sheet! Eeeeekkkk!

And today as I was brushing my teeth, who should trot happily in the back door and down the hall towards me but Woot, with her nice juicy catch in her mouth. I could not help but give a startled noise and a horrified look.

She stopped dead in her tracks, looked at me a moment and then turned around and took her prize back outside.

I think she may have gotten the message.

And I think I must have some field mice in the compost pile or somewhere. Doesn't seem to be just the odd transient mouse.


Still slightly disgusted,

Cheryl

Four weeks old and way too cute

The puppies are four weeks old today and at possibly the cutest stage. Well, until next week.

At right is how they look most of the time. They're just starting to play. They actually started last week, but it was more bumping into each other and biting. Now they actually look, focus, attack!

We have a webcam on them a few hours a day (when it is working, which it is not today) and there is a chat room with the cam. That has been great! We've had webcams for several litters now, but this is the first time the puppies' prospective owners have been able to "meet" and talk to each other...loads of fun. It also allows me to get to know our new family members better before they come to pick up their puppies.

We're using Yahoo, but combined with our satellite internet service (all we can get out here other than dial-up) it has been a whole lot of trouble. I hope we'll find a better service soon.

Here's Razzle, our blue brindle boy with one of his favorite toys.

They're walking pretty well now, usually able to make about seven or eight steps before crashing.

Last week was fun. Week three is when eyes open and they start to become aware of everything around them. The first time one comes staggering towards me when I step into the whelping box always tugs at my heart. Of course, now, only a few days later, they are all stampeding, tails wagging, because they have figured out I am Food Lady.

We start them on solid food a little earlier than many breeders, and the only reason I can give is that I feel sorry for their mamas! They are so big at three weeks that they can't all fit at the bar at the same time, and she always looks so put-upon. So Saturday they had their first meal, and it looked more like mud wrestling than eating for a few meals.

But they have the hang of it now and are wolfing down four meals a day.

They all get lots of lap time every day and now we're taking them out of the box for some floor-time play too. They're having a ball exploring everything in the room, but they don't stray too far from Mama.

This next week we start to see personalities and then we'll begin to tentatively figure out which puppy would be best suited to which home. We try to give each owner a choice of at least two or three, but we do guide the choices based on our observations of the puppies' temperaments. You don't want the wildest one in the bunch to go to a quiet couple who want a couch potato, or the most reserved one to go to a home with three kids.

These are the happiest days I have. There is simply nothing I love more than raising puppies. It's a lot of work and a lot of mess, but the joy of getting these little fellows ready for their new best friends to pick them up in a few weeks is the most rewarding thing I have ever done.

Sharyn

Nathan needs a home

Actually I know of several adult whippets who are available to new homes, but let me tell you about Nathan first.

In August or thereabouts, I posted here about three dogs I picked up from another breeder...which story I will try to finish tonight.

One of these guys is Nathan, who is now ready for his best friend to show up and take him home. He is eight years old and was returned to his breeder a few months ago due to divorce. He is in fine health, though he has a very slight cough sometimes, which we are told is due to scarring in his lungs from almost drowning as a puppy. It sounds higher than lungs to me, more like damage to his esophagus from a choke collar, but whatever, it doesn't interfere with his quality of life at all. His heart sounds fine and he is heartworm negative.

Nathan is a gentleman in the house. He'd do just fine in a home with no other dogs or with a female. He doesn't like other male dogs. Well, that's an understatement. He really doesn't like other male dogs.

That caught us by surprise because he is so low-key in all other ways. He'll chase a toy and bring it back, but mostly he loves to just lie around on the sofa or go for walks. He's very affectionate and really loves to snuggle up next to me on the sofa while I read or watch TV.

We have thought very seriously about keeping this boy here as a pet -- Walt simply loves him -- but we have a male German Shepherd and another male whippet, and the possibilities of a fight are too great.

Nathan does wear a "belly band" to keep him from marking his territory in the house, but in a household with no other males, he probably wouldn't even need that. He's quiet, housebroken, crate-trained (though he is not above complaining about it when we put him to bed every night), leash trained, and just an all-round easy dog to live with.

He would need to be neutered when he goes to a new home, but his vaccinations are current, he's on heartworm preventive, and has no parasites. If you know someone who'd like to share a home with Nathan, please fill out our questionnaire and drop me a line at sharyn@timbreblue.com There are more pictures of him on our Picasa photos site

I often know of other adult whippets whose breeders are looking for perfect homes for them. If you want a whippet but are not up to the demands of a puppy, fill out our questionnaire and I may be able to put you in touch with someone who can help.

Sharyn

Puppies at almost-three weeks

This is the last week of unsullied enjoyment of puppies for me. We're starting the solid food on Sunday and then Candy will quit. Not everything, but she'll quit cleaning them. And that's when we go to 24 hours of picking up papers, robbing the recycle bins for more papers, and checking my clothes for puppy poop every time I leave the house.

Candy is still being a wonderful mom, but she is -- you can tell -- a little worn out. She no longer rushes to get back to them, but hangs out with me any time I leave the "nursery." I used to think it was because she had to go out, but mostly I think she just wants adult company. I remember those days! So she comes downstairs, visits with Dad, follows me out to the clothesline, settles in the living room for awhile, and then goes back to Mommy Duty.

Thank goodness, the puppies are all healthy and robust. gaining weight daily. They're all spoken for, I think, though next week is "deposit week" and sometimes people change their minds at the last minute. And then we have Juliet's litter due the 27th of this month!

Sharyn

Bigger every day

The puppies are doing great! Did I say there were four boys and four girls? Originally I thought there were three girls, but during the first night, I think one had a sex change operation because we now have four girls and four boys and I know I didn't make a mistake that dumb.

Candy is being a great mom. She's getting just a little bored with them now -- they're ten days old and she thinks they should be doing something besides grunting and squeaking, but that's about all there is to them so far. Eyes should open any time.

There are pictures at Picasa and I swear I'll figure out how to add pictures to this blog soon...

Our annual puppy reunion is this weekend and we're expecting 50 or so whippets!

Sharyn

The tomato-mozzarella salad mess

Here's a Barnaby story with a bonus....the recipe for a fantastic tomato-mozarella salad is at the end!
___________________________________
It was Saturday evening. Friends were over for dinner. The first
course was going to be a wonderful fresh tomato, basil & mozzarella
salad with pesto and toasted pine nuts. I had placed my lovingly
assembled salads around on everyone's plate, and left the dining room
for maybe 4 minutes to call people to the table. While I was gone,
Barnaby had quietly gone around to EVERYONE'S plate, tossed each and
every tomato slice on the floor, the basil leaves on the chairs, and
had eaten every single slice of fresh mozzarella and every single pine
nut from each and every salad. The moral of the story is either, a)
never leave food unattended with Whippets around, or b) Whippets love
fresh mozzarella and pine nuts, but NOT tomatoes or basil.

(Being a dog person, I would have been happy just eating what Barnaby
had left, but since our guests were NOT dog people, I thought I better
not.)
___________________________________
Layered Tomato-Mozzarella Salads
(4 individual salads)

1/4 cup pine nuts
1/3 cup Newman's Own olive oil and vinegar dressing
2 drained oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, chopped (about 1 tablespoon)
2 cups (1 oz.) loosely packed baby salad greens
2 large tomatoes (about 1 1/2 pounds), each cut into 6 slices
1/4 cup prepared pesto, divided
1/2 pound fresh mozzarella cheese, cut into 16 slices
16 fresh basil leaves

Preheat oven to 350. Spread pine nuts on ungreased baking sheet.
Bake 3 minutes (lightly brown).

Combine dressing with sun-dried tomatoes.

For each salad, place 1/2 cup salad greens on plate. Drizzle with 1
tablespoon dressing and 1 teaspoon nuts.

Place one slice tomato over greens.

Spread with 1 1/2 teaspoon pesto.

Top with 1 teaspoon nuts, 2 slices cheese and 2 basil leaves.

Repeat to make second layer, ending with tomato slices.

Drizzle with remaining dressing.

Garnish with additional basil, if desired.

Keep Whippets away!

Puppies have arrived! Part two

So Walt babysat Candy and the kids while I went down and got the car ready to go, which, incidentally, I should have done Sunday while nothing was going on! Took everything out of the back and put blankets, towels, got a heating pad warmed, the whole thing. While I was downstairs, I fed the rest of the dogs and tried to convince them that there was really nothing exciting going on upstairs. They weren't buying it.

We called Dr. K again at 2:30 pm and she said to come on -- we would give Candy a shot, give it awhile to work, then do a section and have everyone home by seven or eight.

I gave Candy the news while she was cleaning Kitkit for the 15th time, and she said, "Oh, wait. I think I am having a contraction!" I picked up the five puppies and put them in a box with a heating pad so Candy could concentrate. She pushed hard but nothing was happening. There was a gush of water, so I knew there was a puppy "ready" but it didn't appear.

Okay, time for the heavy-duty midwifery part. I will spare you the details, but it involved a surgical glove, lubricant, a very slippery puppy leg, an unhappy Candy, and a hyperventilating breeder. I kept thinking of those movies where everyone is sweating and the mother is screaming and they keep yelling PUSH! PUSH! Those movies usually end badly for the mother for some reason, so I didn't share these thoughts with Candy. Dogs are much tougher than people. She wasn't screaming or crying, but I know it wasn't the mostest favorite hour of her life.

After about 20 minutes of high drama, we produced a blue brindle boy puppy that I just knew would be dead. He gasped and a leg moved! I picked him up, cleaned the yucky stuff out of his mouth and held him upside down for awhile while more drained out of him. I rubbed him with a towel until he started to cry, held him upside down some more, and listened to him breathe. He still sounded a little "bubbly," so I shook him gently, still upside down. By now Candy wanted him back, so I turned him over to her. And thus came Razzle at 3:00 pm.

Number seven arrived half an hour later with no fanfare. This little guy was dead and beyond resuscitation. His umbilical cord had apparently detached and he didn't have a chance. These always break my heart. You just mourn for the little life that never was and the people somewhere who will never have the joy this specific little fellow would have brought them. We tried to revive him anyway, then let Candy "work" with him for a little while. I've brought many puppies around over the years, but this one just didn't have even a spark. I slipped him away from Candy while she was busy with another puppy. Walt took him later to bury him with Judy and Hamlet, the old folks we lost last year. His name was Starburst and he was a blue brindle and white puppy.

Dr. K called during this time and advised that we should get Candy in. She said the dead puppy might have been the problem and that puppies after that one might be in distress. Once more I began gathering up towels and what-not to take Candy out to the car.

But while I was still thinking about Starburst and worrying about the other two we knew were there, Candy decided to get busy with another puppy. Kisses arrived at 4:42, a tiny little girl who was ready to nurse before she was dry. She is a brindle and white who looks like paint spilled on her left side...some on her neck and some on her rump.

And at 5:30, Wonka decided to close up Puppyland and come on home. He's the puppy with the least white on him at first glance...just a dot on his neck and a little strip on his side, but he has four white socks and his tail is half white and his whole underside is as white as the top is dark.

Candy is being a very sensible but devoted mother, just the kind we like! Some of them are a little too casual about the whole affair and some are too obsessive. I guess when you think about it, they're like all moms. Some are better than others! Candy, thank goodness, is a very good one!

Puppies have arrived! Part one

Candy's temperature was down Sunday morning to 98.3 --- the first sign that puppies are actually going to arrive within 24 hours. We always let the vet know when time is getting close so she can know there's a possibility of a c-section if things go wrong. Dr. K. was out of town, but we had a backup. I called our backup at home, who cheerfully wished us luck and said she would be around if we needed her.

Walt and Candy and Ivy and I settled in to wait. Ivy had her special Grandma crate set up and was quite content to just stay out of the way. For some reason all our moms allow Ivy to be in the room during whelping, but woe be to any other dog who tries to wander in. Ivy, of course, is everyone's mother, grandmother, or great-grandmother, so maybe they think she knows some kind of whelping voodoo and should hang around to help midwife.

Sunday passed, waiting and watching nothing to speak of. Walt brought his notebook computer up and we both go some work done. Candy redesigned her box some more and Ivy slept. That night we made a pizza to eat in the whelping room, put a DVD in Walt's laptop and watched a movie. (Dr. Who) I called Dr. K -- just back from her trip -- at 10 pm and woke her up to let her know nothing was happening. I'm sure she appreciated that little news item.

Finally Walt went to bed and I took a short nap on the floor next to the whelping box. Candy entertained herself by jumping out of the box and onto my back, cozying up beside me, waiting till I got back to sleep, then leaping back into the box, using my back as a launching pad.

At 5:25 am, she wormed her way under the covers with me once more and began whining. I snuggled her close to me and then realized it wasn't her puppies I felt moving around, but an honest to goodness contraction!

So we settled into the whelping box and a beautiful little brindle and white girl arrived at 5:47. That was Kitkat. She had a full white collar and a mark that looked (you guessed it) like a cat on her side. She had a wide white blaze and weighed 10.1 ounces. Walt woke up and checked in on us. I said all was going well. He took some of the dirty laundry to wash (whelping puppies is an incredibly messy business) and went downstairs to make coffee.

After that, things got more complicated. Candy kept insisting she had to go out. I kept telling her, no, she didn't, that was a puppy wanting to get out. No, she said, she had to poop. We took two trips out - no poop, no puppy. On one of these trips, she knocked my coffee over onto the postage scale we use for weighng them, so Kitkat was the last one to be weighed until the next day when Walt went to get me a new scale.

I was getting a little concerned -- puppies usually are spaced 3o minutes to an hour apart, and we were headed for three hours. However, since she hadn't been having contractions, there was no real emergency yet. I called our vet, Dr. K, just in case. She said to let her know. She just seemed pretty happy with her one little girl, except she said she had to poop. Really she did.

Finally on the third trip, at 8:25 am, she squatted and out came Godiva, a lovely blue brindle and white girl. Fortunately, I had brought a clean towel with me for just such an occasion, so I caught the little one before she hit the ground, and we went back upstairs, with me telling Candy, "I told you so." She ignored me. Walt had gone back to bed, so he missed that whole little drama.

We all went back upstairs and an hour later Skittles, a brindle and white male with a stripe across his back, arrived right on time. I kept thinking he looked like a Dutch belted cow so Lakenvelder was a possible name, but considering how little sleep I was getting, staying with the "candy" theme seemed wiser. He will never know how close he came to being named after a cow.

Candy apparently decided faster was the way to go (I agreed) so at 10:03, along came Truffles, another female, with a dramatic zigzag stripe up her back.

Candy was doing her job, cleaning and licking and nuzzling and puppies were doing well. At 10:20 (yes, just over 15 minutes from Truffles' arrival), she stood up, the sac around the next puppy broke -- indicated by a whoosh of amniotic fluid -- and I looked under Candy's tail to see a second tail...a little tiny one, but definitely a whippety-looking tail, protruding from Puppyland inside. One push from Candy and Twix arrived before I could catch him. Plonk onto the bedding. He was no worse for his dive, so I put him with the four others for Candy to mind till it was time for the next one.

I waited and Candy licked and nuzzled and cooed. (Okay, she didn't coo, but she would have if she could) And I waited. And waited. No contractions, no concern on Candy's part at all. An hour passed and then two. I knew there were still four puppies in there, due to the magic of xrays, but Candy was in no hurry.

I, of course, was frantically going through all my books on reproduction. They always seem to cover every possibility before the babies actually start arriving, but when you need to see something specific in print like, "Some dogs, like Sharyn and Walt's girl Candy, can wait 12 hours and 20 minutes between puppies and be just fine," it just isn't there. Some said two hours. Some said two hours if the bitch is having strong contractions. One said three or four hours between puppies was not unusual if the bitch is resting comfortably. One assured me that her own dog had produced a puppy an entire day after the rest of the litter, but she added that it was "mummified."

And here is where the real headaches come. The veterinarian is a breeder's best friend, but when it comes to whelping litters of puppies, they are not nearly as familiar with what's normal and what's not as an experienced breeder. I bred collies for 20 years and have bred whippets for ten. I've advised other people on what is an emergency and what is not. I called Dr. K at three hours and she said to go ahead and get ready to come in, but that Candy would probably deliver one in the car on the way. Unfortunately we are 30-45 minutes away from the office or Walt could have run over there and picked up an oxytocin shot for us to give Candy. They stimulate contractions and a lot of breeders keep them on hand.

The trouble is that in some cases, stimulating contractions is the last thing you want to do -- for instance, if there are two puppies in the birth canal, if the uterus is twisted, if, in other words, no amount of contracting is going to get the puppies moving. In that case, if you give an oxytocin shot, you end up with a mama with a ruptured uterus. Which is why we have decided not to keep them on hand here.

--more to come--

Candy - Day 61

Candy's temperature was down Sunday morning to 98.3 --- the first sign that puppies are actually going to arrive within 24 hours. We always let the vet know when time is getting close so she can know there's a possibility of a c-section if things go wrong. Dr. K. was out of town, but we had a backup. I called our backup at home, who cheerfully wished us luck and said she would be around if we needed her.

Walt and Candy and Ivy and I settled in to wait. Ivy had her special Grandma crate set up and was quite content to just stay out of the way. For some reason all our moms allow Ivy to be in the room during whelping, but woe be to any other dog who tries to wander in. Ivy, of course, is everyone's mother, grandmother, or great-grandmother, so maybe they think she knows some kind of whelping voodoo and should hang around to help midwife.

Sunday passed, waiting and watching nothing to speak of. Walt brought his notebook computer up and we both go some work done. Candy redesigned her box some more and Ivy slept. That night we made a pizza to eat in the whelping room, put a DVD in Walt's laptop and watched a movie. (Dr. Who) I called Dr. K -- just back from her trip -- at 10 pm and woke her up to let her know nothing was happening. I'm sure she appreciated that little news item.

Finally Walt went to bed and I took a short nap on the floor next to the whelping box. Candy entertained herself by jumping out of the box and onto my back, cozying up beside me, waiting till I got back to sleep, then leaping back into the box, using my back as a launching pad.

At 5:25 am, she wormed her way under the covers with me once more and began whining. I snuggled her close to me and then realized it wasn't her puppies I felt moving around, but an honest to goodness contraction!

So we settled into the whelping box and a beautiful little brindle and white girl arrived at 5:47. That was Kitkat. She had a full white collar and a mark that looked (you guessed it) like a cat on her side. She had a wide white blaze and weighed 10.1 ounces. Walt woke up and checked in on us. I said all was going well. He took some of the dirty laundry to wash (whelping puppies is an incredibly messy business) and went downstairs to make coffee.

After that, things got more complicated. Candy kept insisting she had to go out. I kept telling her, no, she didn't, that was a puppy wanting to get out. No, she said, she had to poop. We took two trips out - no poop, no puppy. On one of these trips, she knocked my coffee over onto the postage scale we use for weighng them, so Kitkat was the last one to be weighed until the next day when Walt went to get me a new scale.

I was getting a little concerned -- puppies usually are spaced 3o minutes to an hour apart, and we were headed for three hours. However, since she hadn't been having contractions, there was no real emergency yet. I called our vet, Dr. K, just in case. She said to let her know. She just seemed pretty happy with her one little girl, except she said she had to poop. Really she did.

Finally on the third trip, at 8:25 am, she squatted and out came Godiva, a lovely blue brindle and white girl. Fortunately, I had brought a clean towel with me for just such an occasion, so I caught the little one before she hit the ground, and we went back upstairs, with me telling Candy, "I told you so." She ignored me. Walt had gone back to bed, so he missed that whole little drama.

We all went back upstairs and an hour later Skittles, a brindle and white male with a stripe across his back, arrived right on time. I kept thinking he looked like a Dutch belted cow so Lakenvelder was a possible name, but considering how little sleep I was getting, staying with the "candy" theme seemed wiser. He will never know how close he came to being named after a cow.

Candy apparently decided faster was the way to go (I agreed) so at 10:03, along came Truffles, another female, with a dramatic zigzag stripe up her back.

Candy was doing her job, cleaning and licking and nuzzling and puppies were doing well. At 10:20 (yes, just over 15 minutes from Truffles' arrival), she stood up, the sac around the next puppy broke -- indicated by a whoosh of amniotic fluid -- and I looked under Candy's tail to see a second tail...a little tiny one, but definitely a whippety-looking tail, protruding from Puppyland inside. One push from Candy and Twix arrived before I could catch him. Plonk onto the bedding. He was no worse for his dive, so I put him with the four others for Candy to mind till it was time for the next one.

I waited and Candy licked and nuzzled and cooed. (Okay, she didn't coo, but she would have if she could) And I waited. And waited. No contractions, no concern on Candy's part at all. An hour passed and then two. I knew there were still four puppies in there, due to the magic of xrays, but Candy was in no hurry.

I, of course, was frantically going through all my books on reproduction. They always seem to cover every possibility before the babies actually start arriving, but when you need to see something specific in print like, "Some dogs, like Sharyn and Walt's girl Candy, can wait 12 hours and 20 minutes between puppies and be just fine," it just isn't there. Some said two hours. Some said two hours if the bitch is having strong contractions. One said three or four hours between puppies was not unusual if the bitch is resting comfortably. One assured me that her own dog had produced a puppy an entire day after the rest of the litter, but she added that it was "mummified."

And here is where the real headaches come. The veterinarian is a breeder's best friend, but when it comes to whelping litters of puppies, they are not nearly as familiar with what's normal and what's not as an experienced breeder. I bred collies for 20 years and have bred whippets for ten. I've advised other people on what is an emergency and what is not. I called Dr. K at three hours and she said to go ahead and get ready to come in, but that Candy would probably deliver one in the car on the way. Unfortunately we are 30-45 minutes away from the office or Walt could have run over there and picked up an oxytocin shot for us to give Candy. They stimulate contractions and a lot of breeders keep them on hand.

The trouble is that in some cases, stimulating contractions is the last thing you want to do -- for instance, if there are two puppies in the birth canal, if the uterus is twisted, if, in other words, no amount of contracting is going to get the puppies moving. In that case, if you give an oxytocin shot, you end up with a mama with a ruptured uterus. Which is why we have decided not to keep them on hand here.

--more to come--

Drooling Barnaby

Another one from Jeanne in Pennsylvania, owner of our own Boo and Barnaby and the long-suffering Emma from Surrey Hill. I just love these people!

=============================

Barnaby is what one might call an extreme drooler, a true drooler extraordinaire. Let me tell ya, that dog can DROOL! If he knows there is the slightest crumb coming his way, the drooling begins ... slowly at first, but soon it comes forth in copious amounts.

Well, today I pulled up to the bank drive-through (with the B-Boy and Emma in
the car, as usual), and placed my transaction in the little plastic tube that shoots it back to the bank teller. Just like Pavlov's dogs, Barnaby and Emma know that very soon that little plastic tube will shoot back in our direction, containing two dog biscuits, and Barnaby starts to drool.

I have no idea what took the teller so long today with our transaction (maybe she was hunting the dog biscuit box?), but we sat there for at least five minutes. By the time the biscuit-bearing tube shot back our way, poor Barnaby was hyper-drooling! AND, the woman in the car behind us was more than a little irritated. She was shaking her head, waving her arms, demonstrating her disgust with me AND my dogs (even though WE were not responsible for the delay!).

By the time I opened the biscuit-bearing plastic tube, Barnaby was standing over me, and the drool was just pouring into the tube like a waterfall. (I was actually rather impressed with his aim.) Since the woman behind me was so very anxious for me to get out of her way, I did not take the time to wipe
Barnaby's drool from the tube. Childish -- yes. Unsanitary -- maybe. Gratifying -- most definitely!

~Jeanne