Old Folks at Home

Our little canine companion, Wiener by name, is a very cuddly little guy.  Before he came to us he had a companion, long-hair dachshund, with whom he shared a cage.  He has made the best of a lonely situation, what with living with two elderly human-types.

Wiener has a basketful of toys, squeak toys, fuzzy toys, balls, animals and so on.  He knows some of them by name.  For example, say, "Get the horsie,"  or "Go find your pig," and he will make the correct choice.  The pig is quite useful, too, for its squeak is exactly what is needed to call him in from outside, or from his hiding place if he has holed up somewhere.

We have two stuffed dogs which I refrain from calling "toys" for they were simply decor in our sunroom.  Wiener has adopted them, not as toys, but as companions for his afternoon naps.  He can often be seen sleeping with one or both of them.

We find that the guy is a bit of an oldster himself as witness the white in his muzzle.  Recent calculations estimate his true age at about fourteen.  This was determined by noting the age of a grandson when Wiener joined that family and the age of that grandson now. Now how could that kid be twenty-four years old?

Get the Horsie!

The Lady and her dog.

And it goes on and on.

We are house-bound now.  No way to go anywhere, and nothing to go anywhere for even if we could.  Everything is pretty much closed and no one is going anywhere. And cold!  You would not believe how cold it is.  Yes, you might, because you are probably experiencing this, too.  Stay safe.

Wilbur Visits Wiener

Our Wiener had a visitor during our Thanksgiving party yesterday.  This is Wilbur.  Wilbur is a former cage-mate of Wiener.  They enjoyed the visit with each other.

Wilbur is camera shy.  When he sees someone pick up a camera, he will hide behind someone or something.  So I consider it a coup that I was able to steal these images of him.

The people?  Oh, the people.  We had nine guests, so eleven for dinner.  And there were two more dogs as well.  Fun times.

Yes, Wilbur is a dachshund, silky hair and all.

New Resident

at Chez vanilla

Yesterday afternoon we had a pleasant drive to Lafayette.  But the trip was with purpose.  We went to pick up the dog, Weenie.  He is the most recent addition to the family.  Well, he has been in the family, just a distant relative, we'll say.  He belonged to a granddaughter who for reasons beyond her control is no longer able to provide the animal with the shelter, love and affection he needs.  So, Grammy, tender-hearted as she is, and vanilla, soft-headed as he is, volunteered to adopt the little beastie.

All three of us will have some getting-used-to-each-other to work through.

He seems quite a good dog, so long as plenty of affectionate attention is bestowed upon him.

By way of comparison, Weenie is perhaps a bit more than half the size of JJ whose visit here ended Wednesday afternoon.  The two of them will meet this afternoon.

Oh, too, we had a nice visit and dinner out with the eldest daughter whom we had not seen in several weeks.  It's all good.

JJ's Annual Visit

October 1.  Today is the thirteenth day of the little guy's visit lodging at chez vanilla.  "Little" is a relative term when applied to JJ, for he weighs thirty-one pounds in his bare feet.

On a recent excursion, we stopped for a few grocery items.  Dog and I stayed with the car.  As BBBH walked away, the beastie struck this pose.  Basically, he did not take his eyes off the spot where he last saw her disappear into the store.  Guess which one of us is his favorite.

Essentially, JJ has been a good dog.  It is a matter of working with him.  For example, he cannot resist the urge to tip wastebaskets, and so it is that all such receptacles must be kept out of his reach during his stay.  One thing we did overlook, not having any knowledge that the problem could arise, had to do with the decor in my bathroom.  On a shelf are some beautiful seashells, and on the floor in one corner is a fishing creel, net, and more shells, all this to augment the fishy shower curtain.  Anyway, back to the story.  JJ helped himself to one of the starfish, ate it, leaving enough bits on the hallway carpet that we were able to determine what he had done.

Panic.  This is a dog whose people consider him their child, and more, they are (over)concerned about his digestive system and the materials that enter it.  BBBH: "Shall we get him to the vet?"  Me: "No, he will either live or die."  But then I remembered the digital age in which we live and entered "dog eats dried starfish" into the browser bar.  Ha!  Look at that.  JJ is not the first of the canine persuasion to ingest an echinoderm.  Several people have sought advice concerning this very matter, many of them owners of, you guessed it, dachshunds.  All responses indicated that there was nothing poisonous in the consumed creature, and that, while the dog would likely barf it up, it would produce no long term ill-effects.  Minds at ease.  An hour later, dog barfed up remains of starfish.  All over the carpet.  The dog is fine.

His people are expected to retrieve their pride and joy day after tomorrow.