No regrets!

Yeah, that'll teach you to go fall in the fishpond, Caleb.

(Note: he regrets nothing, he says! Nothing!)

(Note two - Emily, it's way too tempting to put him in a box and send him postage paid to your door. Cee can whoop some sense into him... no, maybe that's not such a good idea. We'd be getting a call at two AM from the police.

"There's these two Cardigans, breaking into the Food Mart!" )

It's a spot! In the yard! Get it!

Other people have invisible dancing LOL cats. Not me, I have invisible mouse pouncing Corgis. I have no idea what Piper was after in this photo, but it made me laugh. I even went to the yard to check and see if I could find anything, but it was all in her imagination, I guess. ;)

Whoops!

Caleb's getting bigger, isn't he? I think I am in love with his topline though, ha. He's turning into a nice dog too; but wow, he's a dominant little red-head. The other dogs have been really correcting him more than they ever corrected Simon. Me too, for that matter. There have been a few days that I realize I've been like, "Caleb, uh uh!" and Riley has rolled him for the umpteenth time and the two of us look at each other like we're about to pull our hair out. Honestly, though, he really is coming along, and he's been so good about sleeping in and behaving himself at night. He graduated to a bigger crate last night, and not a peep out of him. Aw. Good boy. (I like him, and well, he's really become my dog. He's a handful, but when you finally get it through his head about something, he's really good at remembering and putting it to other situations very quickly.)


Missed a Caturday. But that's okay, I'll just tell you that I had a cat related day yesterday that blew my mind. I own a small pet store, as some of you know. Well, I have two shop cats. Both are lovely, wonderful cats, both rescues. They pretty much have the run of the shop. We have a package of salmon treats under the counter that Baron likes beyond all like. He gets a few treats when we come in and that's it, but he will wait until it's busy and then pester you for more. After the fourth time I set him on the floor yesterday (he'd knocked off the mouse and a bunch of paperwork I was working on when I was with customers) I finally went for the spray bottle. Usually all you have to do is show it to him, and he gets the point and goes somewhere else and realizes you're serious about not letting him get his way.

So, I'm standing there picking up the squirt bottle, and he looks at me. I'm like, "Get off, I will use this, go on, I mean it."

Right then, this customer walks in and yells at me, "Don't DO THAT!"

I'm so taken aback that I say, "Uh, you bet I'm using it if he doesn't get down. He knows he's not supposed to be up here right now."

Baron gives me the "make me," face, I squirt the counter next to him, he realizes I'm serious and hops down and trots away. Mind you, trots. The lady has a complete fit, and threatens me out of earshot (in front of one of my other employees) to call the ASPCA on me. For animal abuse. Dead serious, cannot make this up.

On the way out she hands me the parting shot (after buying things) of "I just can't stay in here!" and stomps out.

... well, that's a new one on me. I guess I should have just picked up a taser or hit him with a two by four across his head, right?

I'm not sure if I should just laugh or shake my head but it really bothered me. I'm the last person I can think of about cat animal abuse. Crud, Baron didn't even think it was that serious of a threat - he sauntered off and flopped in a sunbeam and realized I did mean it about staying out of the paperwork. I've had him since I rescued him out of a Safeway box, twelve years ago. I think he's about the last cat I'd ever say was abused. You wonder if this is the sort of person that calls animal protection because a cat is outside in a yard eating grass. (He must be starving!)

Wow, man, sometimes I think this world's gone a bit off the deep end. I'm all for a good animal cause, but I swear, some people really need to get their heads screwed on a bit better.

Weekend WarriorCorgi

Thank someone it's Friday this week, whoo. Been going out every day and throwing the ball or the Wubba for Simon for at least half an hour, and then letting him and the puppy chase each other around. I don't know if it's helping his weight, but it sure is helping my throwing arm.

The poor Wubba ended up on my roof, and so I'm standing on a chair on the back deck with a rake, trying to rake it off the eaves. My neighbors thought this was downright hilarious. "Whatcha doing up there?"

"Getting down a dog toy!"

"Hahah, only at your house!"

Simon: "Bark bark!"

Hey, get back in the coop!

Simon is excellent at retrieving the loose chickens, and putting them back in the pen. I greatly appreciate it, especially when they've all escaped and they're not wanting to go back inside for the night. This one started to give him a little guff, and that lasted all of five seconds before she hightailed it back into the other side of the yard.

What's really funny is that with that chicken there, he totally ignored that ball. Once they were all back in, he went and picked it up.

Ears part two, electric Corgiloo.

Wow, I am so eighties. Caleb's growing like a weed. He is also the most stubborn little cuss on the planet. I mean that in the nicest way, because he's a sharp little cookie and I know he'll be one of those dogs who will push and push and suddenly it will all click and he'll be a hundred percent. However, where Simon was 'yes'm, what can I do for you?' from day one, Caleb happily pretends he's deaf. Tonight, I put them out, whistled them in, and he literally turned tail and ran off to give me the Corgi 'f-you, talk to my tail' remark. That did not fly with me at all, and he thought about it again a few minutes ago when he went out... but decided that coming inside might just be a much better idea. Good dog!

So far, it's a battle of wills. I'm willing myself not to eat tender, pudgy Cardigan puppy with roasted garlic, and he's willing to see just how far he can push me before I pop him into the crock pot.

Edit: Of course, now he's totally curled into an adorable ball next to the sofa and offering me his felt bone. Guess it's not Cardigan Stew tonight!

Rollin' rollin' rollin...

Piper is the rollingest Corgi. She rolls of course when she has a bath, she rolls after dinner, she rolls when playing in the backyard.

Of course today in the yard she rolled in something that might have been living at one point. Then again, it was probably a slime mold. I don't know, but she was wearing it in the living room like a badge of honor, with this huge smile on her face. The rest of us were squished to the other side of the sofa and I dived into the back room for a Yankee Candle tart (best dog stink remover ever) because not only was she damp, she was this lovely flavor of reek.

Needless to say, she hit the bath and didn't pass go or collect her two hundred dollars. Took two scrubs but now she smells like vanilla. Then again, so does my living room carpet.

Monday, catch-up day!

Since I was gone all weekend, I totally had a ton of things to catch up on over here. So after a morning of frantic cleaning, scrubbing, and washing, I finally realized it was noon and the crew was staring longingly at me. I needed to fix the headlight in the Volvo anyway, and pay my trainer for the month, so we headed out to the barn to go on the back road. Besides, Simon's got to get the weight off, so he needs to run more and walk more.

So, off we went. What surprised me was Caleb; he wanted to go, and once he was trucking along behind us, he didn't want to be picked up and carried. He was so tired by the quarter-mile the rest of us were waiting patiently for him, but the little fellow didn't want to give up. Finally I just scooped him up and carried him in my sweatshirt, and he admitted he was pretty wiped out after all. Riley wished on the way back I'd carry him, I think. It was a nice walk, went a few miles, avoided the rain, whew!

Then they slept in the car while I groomed the horses. Man, I have enough horsehair here to stuff a Victorian sofa. *grin* They're still sleeping now, tucked under the bench in the entryway. You know it's been a good dog day when no one makes a peep for an hour and doesn't bother to get up and follow when you're in the kitchen.

Sleeping in on Sunday...

Simon's still pretty zonked from the trial yesterday. Well, that and playing with Caleb in the backyard for a few hours also helped. The dogs have been really good today. Surprisingly enough, Piper likes Caleb where she didn't really like Simon as a puppy, and Riley and Simon are still good pals. It's funny how dogs get their cliques as much as people do. I like her, she likes me, she doesn't like him, he doesn't like her, we are only friends when no one's looking.

Simon kind of is the peacemaker around here - he likes everyone, and everyone likes him. He's just a good natured soul.

Simon Says: Woof at Sheep!

Yes, yes, it should be a Caturday, but um, I put up that picture of Dusty and Caleb earlier, and if I do another one it will go to the cat's head. So, instead, I give you Simon, having a blast in Roy, WA at Ewetopia!

Man, I had fun. I mean, I really had fun. It was sort of a little bittersweet, I kept thinking how much Gabe would have loved herding sheep. Simon, though, was the happy, happy guy he always is; how can you not have fun and laugh and go forward on new adventures with his grin? I realized today how much I missed dog shows, and trials, and agility. Don't get me wrong; I love SAR. This is different - it's a change, a different direction, and I came home today with a tired puppy that I'm very proud of. He's a heck of a dog, and I'm glad he's mine. :)



I would totally write more- I had a fantastic time, met wonderful Cardi people with some gorgeous and wonderful Cardis; and joy of joys, found a handler, I think, for Si! Which is awesome, my schedule with the shop means last minute things happen. *laughs* I feel like such a novice again; I was admiring the herding Shepherds going, oh, that one, that one works beautifully, that one, needs this, that one...

But with the Cardis, it's all back to square one. I learned a lot about bloodlines - that talk I desperately need, and have some really important things to ponder...

I took some great photos of some gorgeous dogs, and I'm itching to buy another lens. I don't want to drop 1200.00 plus on lenses, but I may do it. It's turning into something I love to do with dogs as another bad hobby. Also, hahah, Simon's pudgy, and needs to lose some pounds and tone up. Bad owner, bad. Sheesh, he runs a lot and eats a cup of light dog food... Well, both of us will be jogging more, flat out. ;)

Talk talk bark talk!

The one thing I've noticed about Cardigans is... well, they talk. Far more than the Pems. They just vocalize about everything, talking to their toys, their food, other dogs, themselves, the air. They warble, gurble, mutter, whisper, snort, and a thousand little other words. I think it's like some secret Cardigan Language. Simon and Caleb seem to understand it (they're chattering at each other right now while wrestling in the corner) but Riley and Piper just eye them as if they've lost their minds.

It's interesting. I wonder if they have a Rosetta Stone Program for Cardi. ;)

Like a Motel 6 Room....

I have to laugh at that cat. Poor Caleb, all pushed out the door, but still sleeping! I think I spent a night like that once in a Motel 6 for a cat show. I swear, there was six inches around the bed in all directions and that was it. It was horrible. Even the darn cat who slept in a ball on the end of the bed was cramped, I'm sure! We were both crabby for the next two days. After that, the heck with that, I pay extra money for much better hotel rooms, period. ;)

Caleb Vs The Chickens

I think I saw a little lightbulb go on today. It's so funny when instinct kicks right in - first time he realized there were chickens there, and he just locked and eyed them. "Herd. Must... herd... chickens."

Man, sometimes the dogs sum up my own long day. I totally can relate to Riley tonight. ;)

Breaking the house...

Okay, I totally admit, Simon was so easy to housebreak it wasn't funny. Literally, he came pre-set, I think. He honestly cares about going potty in the house (disgusting!) and is one of those dogs that naturally behaves himself.

Caleb? Not so much. I've sprayed every cord now with Bitter Apple, and puppy-proofed the computer room again. I have nicknamed stripey brat boy "The Poopy!" for right now, because I swear, you can put him outside, watch him, he goes potty, and you praise like crazy. He's all happy to get a treat and a pat, and then he walks right in the house and within a few minutes, he's happy again to potty right on the floor. (Thank goodness for Pergo. Anyone who has a dog should resign themselves to Pergo, because it's the best stuff ever.)The thing about it is he's not even slightly guilty about the whole thing. You tell him no and he laughs and licks whatever he can reach as you're carrying him outside again.

Apparently, he's that new breed of Corgi, that uses osmoisis to renew itself. Oh yeah, I know it's all my fault, I accept that I can't take my eye off him for two seconds, but I swear, somewhere up there Gabe's laughing at me. It reminds me so much of Gabe and Arrow - Arrow was sweet, a neatnik, a well-behaved boy, and Gabe was a total goobus whose idea of housebreaking was to uh... literally break things. Like doors and sofas and lamps. ;)

Funny, how these things seem to come full circle sometimes. I think I'd be happier if I still had a full bottle of Urine Off.

Okay, what's with the weather again. It's beginning to be an ongoing joke on Sundays. It's either pouring, hailing, or... snowing. Ugh, wanted to go on a walk, instead, I was trapped in the driveway by snow. Now, it's blue sky, totally melted, and windy as heck, and we've lost power twice. Yay.

Did manage to grab a shot of Simon and Caleb though, in the sunbreaks.

Caturday #2

Simon loves Dusty. Really he does... it's that sort of love you had for your little brother who poked you and then sits on you and chews on you.

Tgif!

Yup, yay for Friday. Simon went out in the yard and helped me herd chickens and played ball. Those are two of this favorite things. ;)

It's Fiber! :D

Argh, Simon's one bane, the paper towel roll. What makes me laugh is that he goes into stealth mode when he sees them where he can reach them. What he's after isn't the darn paper towels, oh no, it's that luscious cardboard center, nom nom! He unrolls all the towels with his nose and then happily chews on the cardboard tube.

At least I can still use the towels when he's done. XD

Heh, twenty years ago, if you ever told me there would be a time in my life I'd have owned Corgis, I would have laughed and said, "I don't do small dogs," and promptly hugged my Shepherd.

Now I have four of them, yipes! They're wonderful, awesome dogs! (And they're not small dogs, they're just vertically challenged dogs!)

Caleb - the Firecracker.

Wow, the weather at the airport was horrid. We got off the ferry, drove ten minutes and were in blowing, driving, wet snow. The plane was right on time, the puppy safe and sound.

Oh, he looks adorable and innocent, doesn't he? Actually, he's as totally different from Simon as oil and water. Where Simon was a quiet, docile, utterly gentle soul, Caleb here is a pistol. They were unloading his crate off the plane and you could hear him howling as they brought him up in luggage. Let me tell you, it's a big dog howl, whoo boy! He tips that little nose back of his and lets loose like a fire engine. Woooooooooooo. The minute he could get out of his crate, he was off to go explore the luggage carousel; had to grab and tuck him, and he thought this was awesome and spent the next ten minutes licking everyone's face he could possibly reach, including random passer-by's.

Then where Simon tucked his head into Matt's arm and breathed a quiet sigh of relief, Caleb spent the walk out of the airport wiggling all over like a jack in the box, staring at everyone and everything, yapping, howling, telling anyone in earshot how horrible that plane ride was.

He's into everything he can touch, he muscled his way right in with the rest of the pack and was snatching a bite to eat out of Riley's bowl. Riley was so shocked and baffled that someone was pushing their way in to his sacred stainless bowl that he allowed this to happen for two seconds before I could scoop him up and get him re-aligned with his own food. He's wrestled with Simon and held his own, wrestled some random cats, wrestled the carpet, managed to clamber onto the sofa all on his own.... the Pembrokes are quietly ignoring him for the most part. Piper gives him the "crabby face" when she sees him in her space. Riley keeps staring into the small of my back and I'm glad he doesn't have a high powered rifle. I'd be a statistic.

He was pretty good, slept most of the night in the crate next to the bed. Again with the howling, at 3:30 AM, 6:30 AM and now he's just running around in circles in the living room, barking like a doofus at Simon, who is not willing to share his toys in the morning. Actually, Simon's taken all of his toys and hidden them at this point, like an older brother. They're not even toys he wants - he hates the Nylabone, yet he's dragged it into his bed for safe-keeping. ;)

Hightailing!

Quick post! Heading out to the airport today, to pick up the new member of the CorgiCrew. Simon's all like :D (Actually, he's always like that and has no idea why he's like that this morning. Except for he got to chase a chicken who tried to escape while I was feeding this morning. Anyone want a ninja chicken? Free to bad home. ;) )

The woods are lovely...

Every Sunday is a riding lesson day come heck or high water. Blondie's getting better than I am a whole lot faster, so we need to work on this, haha. Of course, the last few Sundays have been torrential pouring rain, an arena that turned into quicksand because the drain failed, and today, it's snow. Yay.

I try after every lesson to take the dogs out for a run on the trails where we ride. We pick the ones that are too narrow for the horses so that we don't bother any other riders. Of course, last week, it ended up being a horrible mess, pitch dark, pouring rain, but it was the first week we'd traveled back there without Gabe, and I just wanted to go and walk and think.

The Corgis had fun, and they always do. You could sort of see them shuffling into their new positions a little - Piper was now lead dog instead of Gabe, and took it very seriously. Instead of bolting into the bushes and emerging out every three seconds, she stayed mostly on the main. Simon has taken over the 'make sure you're still alive' position. He stops and waits, turns his head to watch me and once in a while, there's a bark. "Hi, back there, hurry up!"

Riley, of course, is no different. He sometimes trots off for a few moments of excitement when we turn onto a trail we've never walked before, as you can see here with his bum leading the pack. It never lasts, though, and soon, he's back at heel, with a sigh and a "ho hum" been there done that look.

(I will mention that a) it was starting to rain, and b) dark as heck, my camera hated it, whoo. I will also mention that this is the first time in an hour or two that Piper was standing still and not vibrating. I think she was just recharging for a second in this picture.)

I love the woods in the Puget Sound, though. That's the thing I would miss if we ever moved, the hours in the forest, just walking and looking and enjoying the trees and the damp. It's gorgeous.

Caturday!

Today is Saturday! Well, Caturday, here, at the Corgi Complex.

So, with no further ado, I give you Dustoff, aka Dusty, D-Cat, D-Meep, Teh Meep. Okay, he probably has a billion and one nicknames, but hey, it's one for each of his lives. I jokingly call him the bionic cat, or the world's most expensive cat... which is true. He's got a history as long as his tail, from the fact he was a Humane Society rescue at 3 days, survived everything nature could throw at him (he refused to say die, thank you very much) almost went blind... you can still see the damage in his eyes in photos. It's also why they are this odd, chestnut brown color, they're permanently scarred. He's pretty much okay, but can't see well at night.

He's just a good natured, friendly soul. He loves baby animals, baby puppies, guinea pigs... etc... if I have an animal here that needs extra help, he's right in there with them. Note: Do not try this at home with your cat and your chicken, and nope, didn't put the chicken up there, she did that all on her own while I was cleaning cages.

Funny, he eats chicken cat food, but real live chicks? Oh heaven forbid!

Swamp dogs!

Never thought Corgis were water dogs until I got Piper. She sort of hops right in and floats like a little cork. Well, or a little duck - the top doesn't move, but the feet are frantically pattering underneath the water. I always feel like tying a string to her at times, like one of those little sailboats you had when you were a kid.

As this shows, this is how the big pond is recieved in our household.

Piper: YAY water, yay, over the log, yay sploooooosh!

Riley: ... you are going to go in there? In that? There are likely leeches in there. Disgusting.

Simon: Hey! Over here! I found a stick! And a leaf! And a rock! And a pinecone! :D

It's my favorite!

Simon just adores his Wubba. Actually, I love this toy - produced by Kong, of course (and no, they don't give me any kickbacks. I wish they did, considering I'm the one who really pushed them to produce a cat-Wubba after Dusty stole it from Riley and wouldn't give it back.)

It's made out of heavy denier nylon, and the "tails" make for an easy, far throw. I can toss it across the yard with a quick flick while I'm gardening and it doesn't get all disgusting and slime covered with dog-spit very fast. Not that it matters, everything gets covered in dog slobber here eventually. Including the cats, who take a literal licking. ;)

It floats, it squeaks, and it holds up to tons of tugging and abuse. (Mind you, it's not unshreddable, unfortunately. Piper - who is my 'if I can kill it, it's dead' toy abuser, managed to destroy the first Wubba one afternoon all of a sudden. So, if you have a dog who tears toys - this one's tough, but like all dog toys, needs to be supervised with those sorts of dogs.)

Wubba gets a four paws up rating, in our house!

Corgis sleep in the oddest positions. Apparently, Simon thinks this one is terribly comfy... Those little legs must lock stiff, because he slept like this for an hour. I can't imagine holding my arms up in bed for an hour, but hey, whatever floats the Corgi boat.

(I totally admit that when he's like this, I have the urge to just reach over and poke his tummy.)

Riley, the curmudgeon.

Under the circumstances of late, I've done a lot of thinking about heart dogs, lately. It's a saying among us dog folks - a heart dog is the sort that just get into your heart, and they're the dogs that you look back on and compare all other dogs to. They're those dogs that you think of, twenty years later, longer, and you realize you had not only a wonderful pet, but you had an animal that understood you as much as you understood them. You remember their gestures, their behavior, you can think of all the things they did and laugh and cry about it.

You can still pick up their collars after years have passed, out of a drawer and a dusty old shelf and the smell of them lingers in there -it brings back an instant, painful loss. Odd, but true. And no, no, I don't go around pulling old collars out and sniffing them. Really.

Now, the thing is, I've decided that there's another quality that doesn't get mentioned as much. A soul dog. A dog who you and they have the exact same outlook on life, and because of it, you just enjoy them and they enjoy you. They don't have that adoration point that perhaps a heart-dog seems to, they don't gaze with worship and love up at you and work their hearts out for you, even when you know they're tired or exhausted or just plain having a day.

Riley, I think is my soul dog. He is positive he is not a dog. He has never been a dog. He does dog things once in a while, but only because Simon forces him into it. He missed out on puppyhood, really, being silly, or doing puppy things. I am lucky, with him. He is my puppy mill rescue, the dog that bit to bite at twelve weeks, who was unpleasant and bitter and downright a terrorist when I got him, a a tough, tough cookie to crack in so many ways.

The only person that he truly, truly thinks understands him is me, and he rarely wags, rarely bounces around with a toy. He matured quickly into this dignifed, polite, long suffering dog. He sleeps in until two in the afternoon when he can. He barely ever licks; if he does, it's because I need cheering up -- but no one else gets to see. His one weakness is candy, of any sort, heh....

He's never missed a day at the shop. That is his job, the one he has chosen for himself. He works, he is the employee I've got who can be throwing up and will still stagger to the car, regardless. If I need to go somewhere at two in the morning, he's waiting for me quietly to get into the car, no matter the rain, the cold, the snow. Both of us get short-tempered, hahaha, both of us are terrible about grudges, I can admit it. We're not fond of ill-behaved children in the shop, but both of us tolerate it and grumble about it when they're gone. He never seems to forget an insult or an injury.

Then, every once in a blue moon, he surprises me with his humor. He knows the sound of the camera and immediately poses for the shot, and knows not to move until the shutter clicks. I have all these pictures of him with these huge grins, when it's just the two of us. He dances around my feet when no one's looking. Sometimes the stub even wiggles as he grins a big grin and it's a secret, just between the two of us. We wrestle and he growls and grunts a Corgigrunt and I laugh back at him as he laughs at me.

And then we're done, and no one's any the wiser. ;)

Piper, the energizer Corgi...

Piper is just sometimes downright hilarious. Needy, but hilarious. I've been taking her out with us on the runs lately, and what amazes me is how good her stamina is. She's my house dog - really, she doesn't go out much at all. But darned if she can't run five miles, laugh at the staggering boys and do it all over again. She loves, loves, loves to run, at a full tilt, as far as her legs can take her.

She's also getting better on her recall. She's the dog out of the crew I simply do not trust sometimes - not because she's bad, but because her mind goes out the window when she's excited. I guess spending the first months of your life locked in a crate does that to you; she's never going to be the same as the dogs who have been with me since they were pups. Her attachment to things is fleeting - she loves everyone equally, and would go home with a serial killer, given half a chance. She'd happily be stolen by strangers and go onto another adventure and wouldn't look back.

Boy oh boy, though... those little legs can FLY. She's aptly named - haha, after a small, low-flying, zippy aircraft. ;) I love this shot of her - it's utterly Piper. Road behind, Road forward, and she's enthusiastic no matter where she is on it.

Okay, I've decided that this has become my Corgi photo a day blog for right now. So, since it's the beginning, we'll do the time warp thing and start at the beginning... that's always fun.

This is one of the first three baby pics I got of Simon. How can you not love that face? Actually, as a prospective show dog, how can you not love that expression, with that wonderful, wonderful head, and that front end of his. Right now, he's gone every which way at seven months. My breeder assures me that he will go back to being the dog he was at eight weeks, and not to give up hope. I trust her, she's shown and bred some darn nice dogs.

I personally always found with the cats that you could tell who was going to be your show prospects at three days, then again at eight days, and then again at seven-eight weeks. After that, give up for a while, and just sigh and peel them off the curtains. Dogs, I think are somehow worse in many ways, because they mature - well, like horses. Butt high, shoulder low, neck off, and you go - man, that animal is just... not... good, one day, and the next they look like they can beat the socks off any champion.

Fun, and yet so nail biting.