Author Archives: Aleksandra
baby [gate] steps
You may recall that we are slowly getting the wonderdogs used to each other using a combination of leashes and baby gates. Until this weekend, we were using a 4′ baby gate that was essentially a complete physical barrier. Lolita’s enthusiastic tongue could sneak through to lick my fingers or Chick’s unsuspecting face, but nothing more.
This weekend we decided to move to a much more modest gate, so the wonderdogs could sniff and greet over or under the gate in addition to observing each other through.
Lollie interpreted the new gate as a fun game / challenge. She never did weasel her way through it thanks to her big muscular shoulders, but she sure did try:
Long-lost siblings?
Dylan McKay and his soul sister, Lollie
Date: yesterday during a 90210 rerun. Location: the dining room “the studio” Feeling: in touch with my beverly hills roots.
Admit it, you’re thinking the same thing as me. Lollie was clearly chanelling her inner Luke Perry (circa 1992) during our photo session last night. She pulled out those soft, brown Dylan McKay eyes, and I instantly fell in love with her just as we all did with Dylan in middle school.
Week One in Review
In honor of Lollie’s first full week at Casa Fosterfamily, I am posting some progress notes and discoveries made during our first seven days.
Day 1:
- Lollie is discovered to be housebroken and also very quiet. Wet, sloppy kisses abound.
- Lollie doesn’t seem to know what a toy is, and cowers when one is raised to throw.
- No interest in kibble, but peanut butter is a friend.
Day 2:
- Lollie does not know how to walk on leash. Straight lines are not on her agenda.
- Kong toys are too complex to capture Lollie’s attention, and dinner is left untouched in the bowl. As is breakfast.
- Camera is perceived as enemy to be wary of, much to foster mom’s disappointment.
Day 3:
- Whereas Lollie does not know how to walk on leash, she is an excellent running partner. Strange, but true.
- Lollie calmly and gently greets two dogs while out in neighborhood.
- Lollie is a perfect gentlelady in the presence of houseguests. No jumping, play-biting or barking, only sitting sweetly for attention (of which she receives plenty).
- After some reservation, both breakfast and dinner are consumed in their entirety.
Day 4:
- First attempts at true leash training. Lollie is initially stubborn, but eventually starts to understand that pulling gets you nowhere. Very fast learner.
- Lollie discovers that stuffed animals are fun for squeaking and chewing.
Day 5:
- Leash training continues, progress is made.
- Lollie discovers her love for cauliflower and other things vegetable and fruit.
- Lollie meets some neighborhood kids by chance, sits calmly and gently to be petted.
Day 6:
- Lollie learns to trot happily into her crate for breakfast and dinner, utters no protest.
- Work begins on sitting to put on leash or for permission to go outside. Seems calmer in the house.
Day 7:
- Cars are so scary that it’s nearly debilitating. Lollie goes into pancake mode if one drives by close and fast. Once on a quiet trail, good side-by-side running resumes.
- Good crazy-fit before bed, including upside down antics on the bed with four legs flailing in the air.
- Lollie holds still for the camera long enough to show off her beautiful, soulful eyes:
Lollie Wonderdog, Media Magnet
Lollie has made her first media appearance. Check out this beautiful article about Lolita in yesterday’s Washington Examiner! Way to go, little girl!
Washington Examiner article
must love veggies.
Date: dinnertime. Location: my parlour. Feeling: like dabbling in vegetarianism.
As it turns out, I am a veggieholic. Feed me a carrot, I will gobble it down. A big hunk of cauliflower? No match for me. A crispy kale flake? I will jump for joy. I’m making my foster mom wonder if they need to start that compost pile after all . . .
creature of habit
Recently I read that dogs love nothing more than getting into a rut. There is a calm and secure feeling in knowing when we get up, when the people come home, when we eat dinner, and when we chase squirrels. Rut, rut, rut. There is no danger, and no insecurity.
Last night we celebrated a big milestone. When Lolita and I came home from the evening walk and went to her room, she voluntarily entered her crate and sat down, calmly waiting for me to place her dinner bowl in the corner so she could dine on her evening snack.
happy snacker
Before this point it had always taken a gentle nudge to get her in there, and sometimes some serious antics. Try to picture a grown woman jumping around on a bed holding, and pretending to chew on, a squeaky toy. She leaps through the air and theatrically tosses the toy to the back of the crate, desperately hoping that Wonderdog #2 will be fooled by her charade and bound into the crate after the orange stuffed toy. All the while, she is talking animatedly to Wonderdog #2 in the high-pitched, excited voice generally reserved for cartoon characters and over-enthusiastic parents. More often than not, the woman is wearing rainbow-striped leg warmers and a sweater with holes in it and wondering if perhaps a red cape would help the situation, or at the very least, look good with her outfit. And more often than not, Wonderdog #2 is sitting calmly on a pillow at the head of the bed, wondering what in the world this woman is doing.
In any case, last night we donned our rainbow leggings and celebrated the fact that a routine is emerging, and it’s plain to see that it makes Lola feel relaxed, happy, and secure.
Lolita, Queen of Routine
the ever-moving subject
Lolita is not a hyper dog, but she is constantly in motion. Maybe it’s because of all the time she spent at the shelter. Her greatest passions right now are the free-range rabbit next door, Max, and the squirrels that trapeze across the canopy of oaks in our yard. To maintain her rabbit fix and her squirrel fix, she patrols constantly while outdoors, darting from Max to squirrels and back again, never staying still for more than a millisecond.
This makes her exceptionally challenging to photograph. Whereas resident wonderdog Chick is a natural in front of the lens, Lollie refuses to be contained. Our attempted photo session this afternoon produced this dazzling collection:
whichwaydidhego?
Clearly, a long way to go before she develops Chick’s modeling skills:
my left side is my best side . . . as is my right side.
Tonight I explained to Chick that Lolita’s photophilic development is one of his key roles as her mentor. He sagely nodded his Cone of Shame and went back to sleep.
two steps forward, two steps back
At the risk of confusing metaphors, you know that saying about a stitch in time saves nine? Well, yesterday we got a stitch. In the arm. Specifically, our resident wonderdog Chick got one.
Although they are clearly on the road to being soulmates, it’s going to take a little more time.
The other day, Lollie and Chick went out for a romp in the yard after being pent up all day in separate rooms. In the excitement of burning off their energy doing crazy laps around the yard and frolicking, a playful interlude escalated into a little spat. Their disagreement ended as quickly as it started, but Chick ended up with some scratches and a cut on his arm. A trip to the vet earned him a stitch, some drowse-enducing meds, and the dreaded–but well-deserved– Cone of Shame. Lollie barely had a scratch.
While we wish it hadn’t happened, we are thankful for the early and relatively minor reminder that, borrowing the advice of BAD RAP, “we can’t go too slow” when introducing a new dog into the household. So for now, we’re back to the baby gates, and have learned an important lesson: while your new dog is new, burn off each dog’s energy solo before letting them hang together!
toys: a strange novelty
Date: last night. Location: my suite. Feeling: confused . . . i’m in love with a worm!
We have reason to believe that Lolita has never played with toys before. Balls are of no interest unless they’re moving, but the raised arm that has to throw them is scary. Same goes for sticks– even scarier. Stuffed animals are just downright confusing.
After what seemed like eons of encouragement, we finally got her to play with the blue worm/hotdog toy we bought her the day we brought her home. She nibbled on it tenderly, and initially recoiled in fear when it produced a surprising little squeak. Progress was made, but she seems to prefer just holding it lovingly than actually playing with it– as though she’s afraid she might hurt it.
Love and a Six-Foot Leash 