It's almost Christmas....

five days until Christmas; it's Hanukkah; and 6 days until Kwanzaa.

I've been walking dog1, dog2, and dog3 in the evenings and checking out the holiday light decorations on Capitol Hill. It's interesting how many ways one can find to decorate.

There are the minimalists who will throw one strand of lights over a fence or a tree and leave it at that.

The electric freaks who don't leave one inch uncovered, a zillion colors, blinkers at different rates and usually a lit up santa or reindeer.

Those who take the time to decorate every branch of a tree. I like these best because I finally realized why we our taught to draw Christmas trees as little hanging triangles off an upright stick.

Common is the strings of pine wrapped around iron fences and wreaths adorning the doors with big red bows and a couple of lights intertwined.

There is a house on Constitution that reminds me of the animated MasterCard house commercial.

But my favorite house this year is located on 9th street. A bush outside is done in small red lights. The house and front porch are lined in small white lights. And through the front door window, you can see a Christmas tree lit up with small blue lights, a two directional staircase decorated with strands of pine and small white lights. The colors, though as I write this realize they are of the patriotic nature, are pure delight.

Happy Hanukkah....belated and only SEVEN

days until Christmas; it's Hanukkah; and 8 days until Kwanzaa.

So, we've been a bit busy with that thing called life. So busy, we forgot to wish everyone a Happy Hanukkah.

But we've been Christmas tagged by Pappy's fella, so Ellie decided to take the plunge and give her favorite three things she wants from Santa, and what she wants none of in her stocking:

1. A life long supply of smelly new lime green tennis balls
2. more tennis balls
3. a smaller sister

and she would like NOTHING better than to have NOTHING to do with

1. having her medicine forced down her throat every morning
2. having her medicine forced down her throat every evening
3. her monstrous sister

we're suppose to tag five more...but at the moment we're not sure we have five people to tag....we're gonna think about this one

sixteen..

days until Christmas; 6 days until Hanukkah; and 17 days until Kwanzaa.

And it's Ellie's birthday, and she'll cry if she wants to, cry if she wants to...

but she really has nothing to cry about, she is only three years. We spent the entire day together, along with dog1 and dog3. She had a long run in the cemetery followed by a scrumptious meal of kibbles topped off with a pork chop. Next she opened her gifts where she immediately sat on her new bed and destroyed the baa baa noise in her squeaky sheepy, though left it looking like new prompting me to consider exchanging it for a new one. A nap, another meal, another stroll and it's been a fine bday for all of us.

seventeen...

days until Christmas; 7 days until Hanukkah; and 18 days until Kwanzaa.

And I've been tagged by Disgrunted Owl. The idea is to post 6 weird things about yourself and then tag 6 more people by leaving a "You've been tagged" comment at their blog. You post your six weirdest things about yourself, and then you leave the names of the six people you tag at the bottom of that post. I think it is six people. Could be less, could be more.

Now this is my second tag, Sveedish tagged me earlier, but time has been short and I didn't get to the first tag (oops).

Six weird things about My Self:

1. I like the smell of a sweaty dirty dog.
2. After my 16 year old terrier died, I kept his smelly blanket and collar in my car where every once in a while I would get a whiff of his scent and remember him fondly (see #1)
3. I eat my bowl of cereal in the morning with orange juice instead of milk. One morning I went to reach for the milk and found an empty container. I was starving as I am every morning, and decided that a little oj over my shredded wheat would liven it up. I actually liked it and continued to use the oj.
4. Unlike Sveedish (see her #2), I just choose two socks in the morning from a drawer filled with unmatched socks. If they match, it's a good day. If they don't...well, it is still a good day. Socks are of my least concern.
5. I love fish...I mean like fish in fish tanks. I have four tanks, but no fish. Yeah, that is WEIRD. Problem is my fish like to eat each other. I mean I've tried a variety of fish. African Cichlids, South AFrican Cichlids, goldfish, mollys, angel fish, cat fish to keep the tank clean, even a fricken 35 dollar fish to keep away the algae...you name it, I've probably tried a tank of it. My first tank was filled with a couple mollys and angel fish. The fish started disappearing and I couldn't figure out where they were going. Where was that black hole? Finally I saw a carcass (that 35 dollar thingy) on the bottom of the tank being nibbled at by the other fish. I know dogs, but obviously fish are not by forte.
6. My dog can open bottles. Okay, so this isn't really about me...but it is really amazing and kind of weird that the Maggot can unscrew a bottle top. I came home to find olive oil all over my wood floors and the bottle gone. It took me two weeks to find the open bottle under the couch along with the top. At first I though she had swallowed the bottle (she's big, but I couldn't image she was that big), but when she didn't have any symptoms of eating glass and/or a bottle I let it go. At the pet hotel the other evening, she was being watched by one of the guys in the kitchen and when I came to pick her up they were like "your dog is soooo smart." I'm thinking, the Maggot...smart? Their evidence was in the food containers. No matter where the food was being stored or what type of container, she could open it. Hmm, I wonder if Dave still has his spot "stupid dog tricks?" Or was that over on NBC.

So I'm tagging:

Pappy, Tin Tin, Buster, Dory and Liza...

twenty-three...

days until Christmas; 13 days until Hanukkah; and 24 days until Kwanzaa.

We took Andy's pal, Auntie Jo, to the airport this morning. We will all be sorry to see her go. But Andy, I think, will miss her the most. While Ellie and Maggie still can't have the run of the house when I'm not there, Andy can roam as he pleases. This creates a separation between the big dogs and the AndDog. Sometimes I worry that he gets lonely being by himself all day long. While Ellie and Maggie can snuggle (though Maggie hasn't proven to be a snuggler with another dog) they can at least stand on the edge of the bed together and bark at anything that might be of interest.


As it gets colder, Madison will sometimes stay inside during the day. I am reassured that Andy then has company and even a snuggling companion. But my real concern is directed towards the bond that Andy and Ellie have had since Ellie was a five week old puppy. It has been disrupted since the Maggot arrived. It is frustrated, or perhaps a little sad, to see that the ease with which Andy and Ellie bonded together has not been reenacted with Maggie. Maggie is a force to be reckoned with, and though she loves to play with her brother and sister --- sleeping close to them is not an option. My hope is that Ellie will soon be able to roam free in the house without destroying anything of value, allowing Andy and her to spend their days together.

Ahh, the holiday season...

is upon us.

24 days until Christmas; 14 days until Hanukkah; and 25 days until Kwanzaa

Being that I have a lot of friends with dogs, and that I train at PetSmart, and that I get this nifty little 30% off (associate deal) --- well all my buddies with dogs get big old dog gifts. I like to think of it as dogmas, dognukkah and dogzaa. Though I'm sure Hallmark will come up with a dog holiday for marketing purpose alone (that is, if there isn't one already).

Now I'm not a big shopper. Okay, I hate to shop unless we're talking tools (read table saws, power tools, gadgets...you know, cool stuff) or electronics (cameras, computers, gadgets...you know, cool stuff). Other than that, I'd rather be doing almost anything else. So of course, I delay that whole Christmas thingy until the good stuff is either gone or only size 0 or 26 exist. Not a good thing.

But with dogs, well I just relish shopping for 3dogs, with 3dogs or for 3dogs' buddies. I look at all the stuffed animals, the different bones, the smart toys, the ropes, the holiday leashes, and anything else that might entertain them and entertain me. And the best thing i like about giving something to a dog is that most likely whatever you get, they will like...or at least sniff. People wear their emotions on their sleeves --- ahh, another one of those. One Christmas I gave each person a gift certificate to be donated to their favorite charity. Man, that went over like a white mini poodle in mud. The fake smiles came out, the thank yous thrown my way. But I could tell their disappointment. They really wanted "something" for themselves.

I was watching Oprah this past Monday. Now I don't usually watch Oprah since I'm at work when she broadcasts (and I haven't seen the need to buy a TiVo yet). Apparently, every Christmas season she has a Favorite show where she gives everybody in the audience one of each of her favorite things. I've never seen the show. But Monday was a follow up to her Favorites show. This year instead of giving everyone "stuff," she gave each person a $1000 Bank of America debit card and a Sony cam (have to get in those NAME plugs). The game rules were that each person had to spend that $1000 on somebody else. Her audience didn't disappoint her. They had one week. Two woman in the South turned $2000.00 into $200,000 for Sister's House (a place for battered woman and children). One woman turned $1000 into $74,000 for a local family whose father was dying of a brain tumor (yes, I was weeping big time over this). And the stories continued.

And I wondered, what would it be like if everybody thought about someone else, or another family, or a dog shelter, or PLUG IN YOUR OWN whom were really in need. And as a family, gave their Christmas to a truly needy soul.

30 days and 30 nights...

the post a blog every day in November (NoBloPoMo) will end at midnight tonight. I of course, in fashionable 3dog manner, started late, missed a few days (a funeral, my own deathbed, and a few other life problems getting in the way of my daily blogging). But otherwise, I was quite pleased that I actually completed 28 posts in 30 days.

The highlights of NoBloPoMo were:

Number 10: reading Pappys-blog.blogspot.com every morning ( I counted on Pf's 6:00AM posts)

Number 9: getting to meet other dogs and their bloggers on blogspot.com

Number 8: paying more attention to my 3dogs and their behavior

Number 7: more pictures of 3dogs then taken over the years they have been with me

Number 6: "Christmas comes early" a Pappy's Production

Number 5: forcing me to sit down everyday and think about my day, my dogs, and my life (this was sometimes hard and not exactly what I would want to do, but in retrospect...a really good thing)

Number 4: "Gladiator of the Park" a Pappy's Production

Number 3: Gertie's Cam with no Gertie

Number 2: Tin Tin's Chow for now

and the NUMBER ONE highlight of NoBloPoMo:

November 30th

Ellie fashion...

Ellie has been diagnosed with Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD). She is now on a hypo-allergenic diet and anti-inflammatory medication to help her digest her food properly. But because she hasn't been digesting her food probably or absorbing nutrients she has become very thin. I noticed that she was beginning to body shiver during the night. I'd be awaken by her digging and scratching at the bed covers trying to make her way under the blankets. After seeing Pappy in his trekkie fuscia coat (though PF maintains it is red), I got the idea that Ellie could probably benefit from a bit of warm clothing. Voila, her new snazzy hand knit Peruvian sweater. Okay, so it's not as bright as the Papsters, but it certainly does bring out that nice deep chocolate coat of hers.

And we have a winner...

barely. Those skins. Walking out of the stadium one would have thought the skin's win would have put them at 11 - zip instead of 4 - 7.

3dogs stayed home and guarded the house while I joined the p's and sis. Ellie and Andy snuggled on the couch, while Maggie went solo and monopolized the bed in what I call a Maggiecurl --- 85lbs tied in a knot. And unlike yesterday, nothing was destroyed.

Occupying Maggie

Maggie is a big chewer and I'm always trying to figure out what will keep her entertained the longest. I weaned her on the BIG nylabones so she will chew on those, but the interest fades fast. Pig ears go down in a swallow, as do most rawhides. Even a long big pressed rawhide has a lasting power of only about 15 minutes. Not even long enough to run to the store and pick up a few groceries. Today I was going to Thyme Out with a friend to make meals. Quite interesting concept --- home meal assembly. Anway, I had to decide what to do with the Maggot. Usually she is in a crate, but I decided to try something new since I'd be gone for only a couple hours. After cautiously placing a couple baby gates,I contained her in the first floor hallway. 2dog and 3dog had the run of the upstairs, but then they just sleep. Obviously, Maggie hasn't quite mastered that concept. I threw her a marrow bone filled with peanut butter and a nylabone and figured she'd be good for a couple hours.

Nope. A box of dog cookies, a jar of dog cookies, two broken vases and two plastic water bottles busted open. Baby gates...what was I thinking. And to think I almost decided to swing by the Smart before I came home. It was minimal damage, and all I could do was let out a sigh and manage a weak "oh maggie."

Rain, mud and puddles...

3dogs love to play in the cemetery after a good rain, and this morning was no different. After a hearty turkey breakfast we headed over to 18th & Potomac, SE. Ellie was immediately running through every mud puddle and water hole seeking out her ball. Maggie would follow in hot pursuit not realizing she was knee deep in water until it was too late. Only Andy stayed away from the mud and the water, occasionally drawing near to lap up a few sips of water.

Now it always interests me when dog owners scream and yell at their dogs to stay away from the water. Especially labs. Why get a Labrador if you don't want them to enjoy the water. Even if it is a bit muddy. And why take them to a place that has many water logged sink holes? So you can yell at them the entire time you are walking? Inevitably, while my dogs are pouncing around in water, laying in it, drinking it, rolling in it, other dog owners will look at me as if I am nuts. As if to say "how the hell can you let your dogs get so dirty and wet?" Some owners will even ask me why I let them play in it. And it amazes me. Key word dude: PLAY. Now dictionary.com's third definition for play is "exercise or activity for amusement or recreation." That is exactly what they are doing. We could learn a thing or two from our dogs. Water is fun. Mud is even more fun. And getting dirty just feels good. We would all be better off (and probably get along much better) if we played more, especially in mud puddles.

What we're thankful for...

walks in the morning, breakfast, lincoln park,
cocoa bear in New Hampshire, kibbles, balls,
water to romp in, sleeping in the bed,
Kong Liver stuffing,
walking in the rain,
puddles at the cemetery,
Pappy,Dewey Beach, geocaching,
more kibbles, the lean green kiwi machine,
walks in the evening, dinner,
garfield park
did i mention food, congressional cemetery,
playing with my sister,
more food, yummy treats,
the Smart, Marian Park, naps,
pappy's blog, Madison,
sqeaky toys, romping with Pappy,
more balls, chewing my brother,
gnarly nylabones, McDonald's hamburgers,

Obsession

Ellie, or Dog2 as PF likes to call her, has a serious obsession with balls. Looking back three years ago when I picked her up, I remember how the couple went on and on about how the sire was field certified. A beautiful muscular chocolate lab, the husband made the effort to show me how well he retrieved. It should have been my first clue to what one of his offsprings was capable of doing.

Her father would have been proud. Ellie's focus is so intense and directed towards "the ball" that every muscle in her body is tensed and ready to retrieve. She has a five foot vertical and to quote PF "...has this freaky trick where she launches herself five feet in the air, does a full body twist, and catches a tennis ball in her mouth."

Maggie and Maddie

It's true, 3dogs live with a cat. Madison. A sweet little orange tabby. He sort of comes and goes as he pleases, and despite this picture, usually eats from a bowl.

Now all 3dogs, Andy-Ellie-Maggie, love cats. Andy has known a string of cats as has Ellie. And Maggie grew up knowing Madison, the two of them kissing and rubbing up against each other. And I wonder, is it because my cats are very friendly and not afraid of dogs, that any dog I bring into my house gets along with my cats? Even the ferocious German Shepherd mix, Cal, who lives down the street loves my cats. And that dog doesn't like anybody...dog or person.

Tonight we were all hanging out downstairs and Madison's food container was sitting on the kitchen bar. Now we all know that the Maggot is a food hound and will try to kill anything or anybody that gets in the way of her and her persuit to eating.

So there was Maddy up on the counter chowing down on kittie kibbles, and Maggie is sniffing around and I'm thinking "she's gonna jump up on the counter, startle Madison. He'll fly off knocking over the container, food will spew everywhere, and then Ellie, Maggie and Andy will have a free-for-all with cat food. A rumble." How surprised I was when I turned around and saw Maggie and Maddie rubbing heads. No problem here.

Anger Management...

Well, it has finally happen. 3dogcache is suffering from a bit of an internal struggle, a civil war so to speak. The players include Maggie, the 9 1/2 month old Boerboel, weighing in at 83lbs. And the AndDog, a 5 year old border collie / rat terrier, weighing in at 25 lbs. The "land in question" includes the bed, the lean green kiwi machine (the car), and anything that might smell, taste or otherwise be seen as food. Ellie, a 55lb chocolate lab, and I (weight not to be disclosed) are passive bystanders. Hmm, well not exactly. While Ellie beelines away from the flying fur and gnashing teeth, I get sucked into the mix.

There have only been two such incidences, but the AndDog and I have ended up bruised and/or bloody. The first occurred a week ago over some uneaten dropped kibbles. We had come back from a long walk and were hanging in the bedroom. I had taken their collars and leashes off and everyone was drinking water in a civilized manner. Maggie started sniffing around the dresser and Andy came over to investigate when the war broke out. Ellie immediately backs into the corner to watch, probably hoping she can stake out some kibbles for herself while those two go at it. I, on the hand, can not grab hold of either Maggie or Andy since they are grappling on a slick wood floor and neither have a collar on (a mistake I will never make again --- see house rule #1). So I pounce on top of Maggie (yes, a full body slam). This temporarily prohibits her from gnawing on Andy. But it is Andy who is in full scrapper mode and continues to just go at it on Maggie's head. This, of course, irritates the heck out of Maggie who begins to struggle to get on her feet so she can rip his little neck. After about three rounds of body slam, flying squirrel, neck shreds, I finally get a grip on Andy and manage to get him out the bedroom door.

Breathless and a little bit shaken I tether Maggie to the bed and begin to investigate the damage. (Ellie is now in full blown scavenger mode eating up the last of the spilled breakfast kibbles). Maggie seems not to have any damage from what I can assess visually on the surface. I have a tooth gash above my left knee (see house rule #2). And Andy, well the AndDog has a gash in one of his right front foot pads and wet spots from where Mags has tried to swallow him. I clean and bandage us both and think about how I should proceed.

That evening, I kept Maggie in her crate while Andy maintained his bed sleeping ritual. Next morning, one would never have known a fight ensued. Andy was prancing around, tail wagging licking Maggie's face and Maggie was playing with him. Hmm, I thought to myself, perhaps this is a single incident never to happen again. Yeah, right.

One week later, I'm sick in bed. It's around 9:00pm. Everyone is sleeping on the bed --- Ellie in the right hand bottom, Mags in the middle and Andy on the right hand top. I'm there too, managing to stake out and claim as my own the left side of the bed. I'm watching tv and start to feel the beginnings of sleep. As I hunker down into the blankets, I mistakenly disturb the princess. As she is looking around, I can see in her eyes the onset of an attack --- as if to say "grrr, I don't want you there" --- okay, perhaps a side of anthropomorphism, but that is what I saw. Before I could leap, Andrew leaped head first on to her (okay, yes, she growled and went near him...but Mr. scrapper just doesn't get it...doesn't take the cues, he will fight till the end). I grabbed her by the collar and pulled her off the bed --- Andy still going at her. But this time I was able to lift his little body off of her and separate them within moments. But not until the damage had been done.

A puncture wound in his leg and and a few scrapes around the shoulder blade. After I finished my coughing fit, Mags got tethered. Andy got bandaged. And I. Well I downed another cup of TheraFlu.

There hasn't been another civil uprising since then. I have contained the environment so that neither Andy nor Maggie have the opportunity to fight. Food and dishes are always put away immediately after eating --- Maggie eats alone. Sometimes Andy sleeps in the bed, other times Maggie does. In the car, Andy gets the front seat, while the Maggot gets tethered. This seems to have worked wonders, and is what I promote and teach "...dogs don't define behavior as good or bad, acceptable or unacceptable. It is up to the owner to create and environment that promotes acceptable behavior."

But I wonder, am I doing everything I can? I wrote down how I saw the situation:

1. Maggie is possessive of the bed, the car, and food.
2. Maggie will growl if Ellie or Andy gets in her way of these three things
3. If Ellie is the intruder, Maggie growls and draws near her and Ellie retreats. No fighting occurs.
4. If Andy is the intruder, Maggie growls and draws near him and Andy attacks. Major fighting occurs.

And then I asked my friends and fellow dog owners what they thought. Bad mistake. Most think Maggie should be reprimanded and punished. That poor little Andy is being abused. I reminded them that it is Andy who is likely to get in a fight at a dog park, usually with some monstrous beast. Whereas Maggie plays, like most puppies her age, with all types of dogs. Even at 80 some odd pounds, her playfulness and clumsiness reveal her youth.

I did a little research on dog aggression. Many sites maintain my philosophy of controlling the environment. But I need to do more. I know it's a mix of alpha(dominance) vs possessiveness vs food aggression vs fear. For now, I will continue to do as I am to maintain the peace.
=======================================
House rule #1: Every 4 legged mammal must at all times be seen with a collar around his/her neck.

House rule #2: Never try to dismantle two angry dogs with physical being --- high power water gun should be at the fingertips at all times.

Sad, sad news...

I only new him a short time, actually only one visit...but an impressionable visit, but Crusher, the opening star of "Gladiators of the Park," died this past week. It was a, hmm, no pun intended...crusher. He will be missed.

Gertie's in the house...

and I can't believe it. The bulk of Gertie could be seen today at 1:59pm on Gertie's Cam. Though a hand was maniputlating a mouse next to her bulk could also be seen. First sighting. Short lived though, she was gone by 2:03pm!

What do dogs REALLY DO?

It has come to my attention that dog owners wonder what their dogs do all day while they 're at work. Pappy's fella recently posted a blog entry questioning same. Gerti's cam proved ineffective of showing what Gertrude does all day (obviously, NOT sleep on her bed). And last week, a woman at Wheaton Regional Park said she had an answering machine that she would call her dogs and talk at them. She was in the process of putting in a cam so she could see their reaction when she called.

Well, I'm here to tell you after three days of being home in bed...your dog SLEEPS! That's it. Nothing as intereting as hotwiring cars or becoming addicted to the afternoon soaps. Nope, not at all. SLEEP.

Let lying dogs lie

And lie they will. It's amazing to me that here I lie on my death bed, sleeping the day away in a fog, wishing I could get out of this bed. But 3dogs, well they seem to love it. Or perhaps they just love having me home. But lie they do. And lie, and lie, and lie.

So, i ponder...is it lay or lie. I'm so confused.

Martin Luther King

3dogs had a bad day today since I was sick and the day consisted of "Front Yard Constitution," Cnn, Sleep, Front Yard, Cnn, Sleep. Truth be told, CNN and Sleep both consisted of reclining bed activity. And now again, we are in the reclining position.

And ground was broken today on the mall for the new Martin Luther King Jr memorial, first memorial on the mall honoring an individual. And so I listened. To Oprah, Bill Clinton, Maya Angelo, MLK's children and many more including President Bush, who actually sounded sincere and intelligent. But you didn't hear me pair those two words with his being! It was wonderful. And I cried. I always cry when I hear Martin Luther King speak..."I have a dream."

But then I was one of the lucky ones. In the 60's during the riots, my parents believed that all men and women were created equal. A creed I was raised by. No matter your color, your religion nor your country, everyone was equal. My father opened our home to blacks and he devoted his life to helping those less fortunate...until Nixon came along and OEO ceased to exist.

But as I watched all these great people remembering a great man, it made me think of something my former therapist said to me. She was Jewish. Actually, now that I think about it, all of my therapist have been Jewish woman...except the one gay man who started out becoming a Priest. Uh, I've digressed.

Anyway, I was talking to this ex-therapist and she was talking about her sons. And I was trying to make a point about accepting peoole, and I gave an example about one of her sons bringing home a girl who was an Arab. "Not in the house" was her response.

It's foreign to me. Rejecting someone because of their economic status, their looks, their religion, their origin, or their color. There are so many reasons to reject people that have nothing to do with any of these things.

Uh, I feel sleep coming on. 3dogs are already in that position but then it has been their constant all day long.

The Smart...

3dogs and I spent the day at PetSmart. Not a bad choice since the weather was cold and wet, an unpleasant change after an unseasonably warm week. I did my usual teaching gig, while Els, Mags and the AndDog hung out in the PetHotel barking and jumping like all the other dogs.

I teach every Sunday, and I make it a routine to say goodbye to all the PetHotel borders before I leave. It is so interesting to see how the dogs will react to me. Some dogs just sleep, eat and when they are allowed out to play, they enjoy that too. They're the lucky go happy dogs. When I come by to say hello, their tails wag furiously and they just want to be pet or to lick my hand. Contact.

Then there are the pups that shrink into a corner and shake. I try to coax them out for a pat or make friendly eye contact. But they usually let out a guttural growl indicating to leave them alone.

And then there are the barkers. The pups that just bark, and bark, and bark...let me out, let me out, let me out. Some will let me pet them and they'll calm down, while others just like to hear their own voices.

Now my pups will be staying at the Smart while I'm skiing this winter, and I hope some of my colleagues will take the time to give them a few extra pats and kisses. All three fall into the barker jumper group...let me out, pat me, let me out...I want to go home!!

3dogs do Wheaton

Up early and out the door to drive half way around the beltway just to meet the stars of "Gladiators of the Park." Crusher, the first Gladiator on screen, was the first to greet us. Mags sniffed, and luckily, Crush didn't reenact his opening act. JoJo, Jack and all the other players were there too. But the star, the true Gladiator, the Papster himself, came running over to say hello to 3dogs and especially his pal Maggie. For the following hour the two of them rolled, stood,and mashed teeth, enjoying every moment of it. Ellie only wanted one thing. Yes, the ball. And AndDog, he just went from one person to the next sitting sweetly waiting for pats and kisses.

Unfortunately, our time ended abruptly when the Paps, defending his Gladiator title and status, had his side ripped open. No one is quite sure how, who or when, but dog park rules allow for such rough housing and the occasional accidental tooth snag. (Hmmm, something to ponder --- does the skin get in the way of tooth, or vice versa?) Pappy's fella promptly leashed up the Papster and took him to the vet where the poor paps had to be stitched up while knocked out.

At this writing, Pappy is at home with his fella and feeling well kind of out of sorts but on the mend, though his new fashion statement is nothing to write home about.

Pappy, get well soon.

We're Google-able!!

It's official. 3dogcache now can be located just by a google search!

Ellie and her ball

Ellie is my sweet little chocolate lab who thinks there is nothing better than a lime green fuzzy round ball. Here she is striking her "throw the ball, will ya throw the ball, throw the ball, will ya, will ya, will ya" stance. Every fiber in her body shivers with anticipation when she's waiting for "the throw." As soon as she sees my arm raise into position, vroom...off she goes. She's amazing.

When she was a pup, I'd just throw it sidearm as far as I could fling it. But she outgrew that very quickly, and I moved on to the "ChuckIt." This little device is a godsend. Not only does it enable one to throw the ball long and far, but it doesn't put too much strain on one's shoulder. Especially if that shoulder has thrown too many sidearm throws and performed an array of gymnastic moves over and over again.

Tomorrow: The flip

Maggie sunbathing

Dog Blog of the Week...

Well, Pappy has made the bigtime...so we'll give him his 15 minutes of fame.

It's so wet outside...

and only one of the 3dogs likes to play in the rain especially if there is a ball involved. Now if it was a normal evening, sans the pouring rain, there would have been a boatload of pups to play with. But no such luck. Maggie and Andy stayed close to my sides trying to avoid the downpour, while Ellie did what comes naturally --- chase, retrieve, drop; chase, retrieve, drop; chase, retrieve drop...with the occasionally "down" in the mud puddles.

Urban owl

I live across the street from an apartment building where an owl is perched outside a window on the fourth floor. When I first moved in I could spy the owl through my bedroom window as I would fall asleep or wake up. It always caught me off guard. Is it real I would wondered. No way, but for the first year I would still look up at the window every time I passed by just to assure myself a fake owl occupied that site.

Image my surprise as I was returning with 3dogs this evening when I spotted what looked to be an owl sitting atop a no parking sign. No way, I said to myself, an owl, across the street, glaring at me from street level. But as I stared I noticed the sway as the big bird teetored on the top of the sign. And then the head went to the side and I gasped. My first thought was it was going to attack me and the dogs. Not so absurd a thought when one realizes that as a small child, mockingbirds would try to pull hair out of my head. And still today, as I walk down the street with 3dogs I get attacked (actually 3dogs get attacked) by mother mockingbirds protecting their young.

But the owl just stared. So I took in all its beauty thinking no one is going to believe this one. Why didn't I have my camera. But I was only a block away, ironically just around the corner from the 4th floor owl. I dashed home, retrieve the camera only to return to an empty sign. But the rustling of leaves led me to spot the owl relocated in a tree. His (or hers I suppose) eyes were mesmorizing. And he just stared. I took a few pics, but only one did him any justice. As I walked back home I ran into a neighbor and she too wanted to see the owl. When we returned, the owl stared back at us for awhile and then seemed to want to come closer.

All of sudden, up went his wings and down he came to perch on another sign just 10 feet from were we stood. But again, the sign proved too difficult a surface to keep balance, and as we motioned for a passing woman to join us, up he went into a tree. But he got caught in the branches and only managed about a two foot upward swing. At first he hung upside down and we could see his spotted wings. He was a mere six feet from us, but being upside down appeared to be a difficult position to sustained, and eventually he righted himself up and peered at us over the leaves.

Standing in the street, now four of us just staring at this bird, a taxi driver honked and screamed at us to use the sidewalk. But we all stood still, looking upwards, revelling in awe at this late night urban site.

I am now a nanowrimo participant...

So, I might have missed the deadline for the National Blog Posting Month, but I made it into the National Novel Writing Month. Hence,I am official part of the daily blogging.

Redskins vs Cowboys

3dogcache were left home yesterday so I could experience the ritual of die hard skin fans during a home game. And it wasn't just any home game, but a game against our biggest rivals --- THE DALLAS COWBOYS. Now I live on Capitol Hill in Washington D.C. and FedEx Field is a mere five miles away. I was thinking we'd head out around noon for the 1:00pm kickoff and I'd be home walking dogcache by 5:00pm. I was wrong on all accounts. ETA was marked at 9:30am. 9:30AM! That's three and a half hours to do what? Tailgate! The barbecue grills went up, the smell of cooking meats waffing through the crowd, alcohol flowed, salads and a variety of chips galore, and of course, the porty potties in place. People had tables adorned with tableclothes and lit candles. It was like a makeshift commune, a big family getting ready to watch their kid play a game.

Now the crew for these Sunday "spa" retreats includes my sister and two of her former colleagues. Sis is an avid sports follower and can spat out stats and names before I can remember the other team we're playing. She also enjoys cooking and trying new recipes. She had planned a menu of garlic lime shrimp/scallop kabobs and jerk chicken kabobs to be cooked on the grill. Unfortunately, she forgot that "thingy" that screws the gas onto the grill. Hmmm, I said she was good with stats and names. Luckily, she also had yummy potato salad and my favorite, Jamaican beef patties. We all started sipping on mimosas and eating patties. But the mood had been soured, all that tasty prepared food going to waste.

It was my time to intervene. I might not know anything about football stats and names, but I could certainly buddy up with my new found family and either borrow the "thingy" or a grill. The guys next to us had taken up about three parking spaces and had set up their grill next to us. It was a similar Thermos "grill 2 Go" as ours, but their grill was push and go. So fricken cool. Step of a foot on a pedal and poof, up came the grill. So the dudes on the left of us agreed to let us use their grill after they finished. But they had ribs, steaks, chicken and a host of other things to grill. It was only 10:15am so we figured we were good, but as time continued I realized I better make another move. As I searched around, I spotted another griller with the same grill.

So off I took and to my delight, not only did they warmly and enthusiastically permit us to use their grill, but the dude wearing the apron and holding the grill tools actually grilled our food. I should have realized immediately they were fellow Capitol Hillers from right down the street.

Ahh, but there is a dark side to this tale. Sis was humiliated by Mr. Griller's bullhorn. "Hey ####, did we forget an important part of the grill?" boomed across the section of the parking lot we now called home. "Love that sushi" and a host of jestful remarks continued. But it was all in fun, for as soon as we and they tasted the jerk chicken and shrimp/scallop kabobs, well all was good.

Pit Bulls...

Another lovely nighttime walk in the cemetery, but this time we were not alone. 3dogs had found something wonderful to munch on, and I, not having a flashlight, had no idea what it was but could smell the stinky remains. I clipped Maggie onto a leash since she refused to walk forwards away from her tasty treat, and onwards we went. As we were rounding a bend, we spied shadows of dogs and people wandering amongst the headstones. AndDog and Els went flying after the intruders into our nightly peaceful retreat. The owners seemed totally caught offguard and hovered for a moment, seemingly not knowing which direction to go. As I approached, I noticed they had three dogs, one of which was a beautiful specimen of a male pit bull on a heavy guarded leash. Now Ellie and Maggie never exhibit any aggression towards dogs. But the tiniest of the three, Mr. AndDog, is always looking for something to growl about, especially when the dog is bigger.

The one woman asked me which direction I was going and as I pointed she indicated she would go in the opposite direction. I asked her if her pit was friendly (remember this IS southeast DC where a man was just attacked down the block by two pits), and she was like "yeah man, I just try to be careful." Long story short, he was a big sweetie and everyone played nicely together.

We chatted about how fearful people are of pits and rightly so, since in this city many of them are used for fights. The rougher the pit, the more status the owner possesses. I take my dogs to the Animal Clinic of Anacostia and I can't count the number of times I've seen pits come in torn to pieces. Sad.

The mount...

I was just reading about Pappy's fella's experience in the dog park this past week and PF's embarrassment of Pappy's Ugly Secret. As I commented to PF's post, mounting between dogs is usually an exercise in dominance rather than a sexual release. But what peaked my interest more was the reaction of the Golden's owner, shrieking that the behavior was unacceptable, and insinuating that Pappy was some kind of filthy monster. One word: ANTHROPOMORPHISM. Okay, and maybe an entire sentence --- as JAY-Z might say "... (her) whole perspective is whacked."

Pappy doesn't mean any harm, nor is he trying to embarrass anybody. His mind isn't in the gutter. He's just doing what comes naturally --- pack behavior. So PF, grab that squirt gun and associate a little uncomfortable-ness to the Papster every time he begins that mount.

The deadly bay leaf...

CONGRESSIONAL CEMETERY AT NIGHT

The Mags, Els, Andrew and I jumped into the Lean Green Kiwi Machine (LGKW) and headed down to Congressional Cemetery for a jaunt. It was late, but with a full moon shining and the DC Jail flood lights reflecting off the tombstones, there was a small strip of this historic 32 acre plot to walk the monsters. Yes, that is right. I am walking my dogs at night in a cemetery. Now you might be wondering why I would go to a cemetery to walk my dogs. But this is not as uncommon in this city as you might think. Though I will admit, the young and upwardly mobile are not exactly out at this time throwing sticks and balls to their dogs...no indeed,they're too busy swilling drinks and dropping names at local hill establishments.

Anyway, after our walk I headed down to 8th street for a bit of Indian food. 3dogs chewed bones in the LGKM (it's fall folks, and the temps were in the low 40s so no one was overheating), while I went in to enjoy a bit of Saag Gosht, raita, naan and red wine now known for its effects on fat and longevity. So I'm savoring all these spices and flavors when all of sudden I'm spitting out half of a bay leaf. Now if memory serves me right, I was told that eating whole bay leaves could kill you. I can hear my mother's voice, "always remove them from sauces and stews." I'm not sure where this idea came from but I did not just make it up on the spur of the moment. Or in the case, on the spit of the moment. But I'm beginning to think that this is not true. I mean, why would we season our food for hours on end with something that might kill us?

another Saag Gosht recipe

I missed the deadline...

to officially compete in the NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), but I'm only a day late so I will continue onwards.

Now Maggie and Pappy began their blogs around the same time. But alas, Pappy's fella proved much more prolific in the writing department than I. Entertaining readers with endless tales of Pappy's joys and woes, and an array of Pappy movies now occupying space on You Tube. Sadly enough, Maggie's Moo last post was 13 June 2006 --- she was a mere four and a half months and weighing in at a light 40lbs.

Well times have changed, nine months and 80lbs later Maggie's Moo has been resurrected with a fresh new name reflecting the entire clan and their favorite pastime --- GEOCACHING.

Tomorrow's post: our adventures in the "live free or die" state.