Tag Archives: rescue dog

On Squirrel Patrol…

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Everyone loves my little dog, Hattie, and she loves everyone.  Well, everyone except the squirrels.  To rid our yard of squirrels is her mission, and she takes her mission very, very seriously.   Dogs need a job.  My sister’s Corgi, Penny, has the job of herding chickens. My neighbor’s dog, Leo, has the job of guarding. Hattie’s job is to make me happy…and to keep the squirrels at bay.

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Squirrel patrol works like this:  The squirrels gather at the bird feeder and below.  One squirrel shakes the seed down.  The others call all their friends over for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.  Hattie watches.  When she spots the crowd, she takes off.  Heaven help her if she should ever actually catch a squirrel, although once, she came very close.  It surprised both of us.

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My little dog, Hattie, is a rescue dog.  She rescued me from aloneness, which is very different from loneliness. She came to the “Hokey Pokey Clinic, where-I-turned-myself-around” six years ago, and she saved me. The theory is that dogs look like their owners.  If that is true, I am so fortunate to look like Hattie…happy.  She has done her job well.  Actually, she does both of them well.

 

 

 

 

 

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An apology…

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I owe someone a deep apology, and it is my little dog, Hattie.  I have been far too hard on her, and in public, too!  I realized it, this week.  You see, I am puppy sitting.  Yes, I gotta be crazy.  Yes, I said “puppy.”  My little charge is a very young bulldoggish kinda-guy named Duncan.  I forgot to ask his age, and I just call him “Pup.”

This is the back-story of how the craziness started.  Hattie is a very energetic one-and-a-half year-old.  Sometimes, I am just not enough for her.  Her favorite games are Keep Away and Tug.  Both of those games frankly annoy me.  The Keep Away annoys because she is usually keeping something away from me like a baby bird or my socks snatched off the drying rack.  The tugging annoys me because she is a very strong and aggressive chewer.  I have to buy the black Kong toys.  She’s shredded every stuffed toy I’ve purchased in a matter of minutes, so I just quit buying them.  The tug part is when she brings me a tattered something, and then tugs my arm out of the socket.  Sort of like the pulling when walking thing.

So, silly me, I thought she might need a friend, and since two permanent dogs are too much for me, (hey, apparently one permanent dog is too much!) I thought I’d volunteer to pet sit.  There.  That’s how Duncan came for a week-long sleep over.

Now it is time for the apology part.  Hattie is actually very well trained!  Who knew?  I know I didn’t!  She stays in the yard.  She potties outside!  She tells me when she wants to potty.  She can go for longer than 30 minutes without potty-ing.  She enters her crate without crying or barking.  She comes when she is called.  Really, isn’t that all someone wants in a dog?  It is clear that I wasn’t thinking straight when I wrote of Hattie’s flaws, and I am truly sorry.

Duncan is a good boy.  He is calmer than Hattie, and he plays with her and puts up with her dominance.  But Hattie is a good little girl, too.  And she is NOT a puppy!  I love her, and flaws and all.  She is sweet, cute, and mine.  She does give me something to write about, though.  Meanwhile, this is my apology to my little Hattie, “Sorry, Sweetie.  You are not as difficult as I thought you were.”