To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Perchance to dream? I'll say. I was dreaming, until the shock of two cold black canine noses jolted me from sleep; rocketing me back to the here and now. The proof of the journey faced me in the mirror as I went through my early, early morning rituals between the proffering of dog biscuits and the presentation of the breakfast kibble. Wow, this amazing bedhead hairdo must be the outcome of quite a ride.

Those of you who do not follow my daily blather on that time sucking social network do not know the story of how there came to be TWO wet, black noses. It was Time. The healing was ready to be complete, after the death of my beloved Naughty Dog, Sasha.

It all began with an invitation for my son and daughter-in-law to put their new adoptee, Myles the Chihuahua, into a doggie "purse" and bring him with them to California for their almost two week holiday at Camp Souza. You see, we loved meeting this little powerhouse of personality when we spent some days with them, bracketing Stitches East, and I thought that it might be fun for him to come here to learn to be a Dog.

Myles did so well traveling here but had really had, had enough of everything and everyone by the time he was to meet Tank, that first night. The spunky little guy really lost his tiny mind and went after the big dog, with every Little Man cliche. We all worried that we had just entered into a nightmare but when the morning came and Myles had been allowed to chill out, over in the Little House, (Erik calls it "across the street") he was much more ready to meet Tank and this time, the bonding went well. We watched and laughed for days as Tank gently did a tug-o-war with this Munchkin, who pulled with all of HIS might. They play growled and ran around like silly dogs, until the big dog yelped and fell down with his leg sticking out in a weird way. Too much juking for a big black Lab with inherited joint problems. He is only six but has had an elbow issue since puppyhood, discovered after too much ball play. Damn this "purebred" stuff. The point was that I was beginning to see that Tank REALLY enjoyed having another dog around to play with and I began to soften to the idea of bringing a young adult dog (not ready for life with a puppy) into the house.

The problem with a Rescue is that you don't know exactly WHY they were surrendered but just as with human adoption, you mean to just love them. We all made a trip down to the Placerville Drive Animal Shelter, where we found Geisha (now, Boopie) last year. No, no, no, no and no. I needed to find a dog who did not have the caveat of "house without cats" written on the adoption form. "Needs strong fencing" was another no-no. I left there and decided that it was probably not time. Someone mentioned the Grace Foundation, in one of the other places that we visited and it stuck in my mind.

I spent my subsequent evening times going online through Pet Finder, looking for dogs that were Medium Sized, with a family friendly rating and somewhere within El Dorado County. Chihuahuas were everywhere but as much fun as it was to have Myles here, I am just not a small dog gal. A picture of a long haired black and tan dog popped into view and I loved the way that her tongue fell out of her mouth and how she looked at the camera with a sideways glance. Trixie. They described her as an Australian Shepherd mix but she did not look like any Aussie that I had ever seen. Hmmm, what else could be in that mix? We would not know, simply because she was dropped off at a vet in Folsom, who had a relationship with The Grace Foundation. (There's that name, again.)

I looked up the Grace Foundation and discovered that it was founded by a gal who began rescuing horses, taking them in and caring for them on her El Dorado Hills ranch (on the non-fancypants side of highway 50). I emailed the folks and asked if Trixie was still available for adoption, crossed my fingers and let it go to "what will be, will be". I heard, the next day, that she was still available and living with a foster family in El Dorado Hills and was told to dowload an adoption form so that they could see if it would be worth it to put me in contact with them. I filled that paperwork out SO fast and sent the pdf back to the GF and let it go. I got a call the next day from a gal by the name of Chris, who was Trixie's foster mom. She said that the GF was very encouraged with the possibility of the dog coming here and we agreed to wait until the Wednesday after Christmas, to meet. The day arrived and it seemed the perfect time, simply because Lorrie, who also does the pet-sitting, would be back to work that day and Erik and Vicki (and Myles) would be back from SF. We decided to have them come up here with the dog so that the family could see where she MIGHT be living.

Their car pulled into the driveway around noon and out piled Chris, her two lovely kids and what was NOT a medium sized dog. She was labeled "nervous" and she got a little worried being up here. I added Tank to the mix and while his hair raised as they met, he quickly did the downward dog Play position and they were ok. I brought the family around the back of the house, to see the "back yard" and their mouths hung open. I said, yeah, I know...we came here from a 1/4 acre lot in Lafayette and I fell in love with this place the moment that I saw what was behind the house. I think that Chris started to let go of Trixie a little piece at a time as we saw how much she was reveling in the room-to-run aspect of the place. She just kept telling me that this is what she imagined for the dog when she knew that she could not keep her, simply because the dog had so much energy and needed people to be Home during the day. (so much energy was what made ME nervous)

We agreed to give Trixie a trial run, to see if she would fit here and after talking to the young daughter, as we gathered some yarn for her (she is a knitter...), I was convinced that she and her brother would be able to let Trixie go. Ok, we said, we can do this. We closed the doors of the Little House and workshop and they piled back into the car and drove away, down the driveway. Trixie paced and paced and paced, worrying about being abandoned by her family, again. After about an hour, figured that it should be time to get her over to the house but she, not being leashed, bolted out the door and madly ran around the driveway and all over the place while we tried to get her by the collar, which scared her even more. While she had come when called during the time that her foster family was here, she would have nothing to do with it when they left. Lorrie tried to help us catch her and as she attempted to hold the dog by the collar, Trixie juked and Lorrie's middle finger on her right hand was twisted into dislocation.

I went into emergency mode and gathered Lorrie's belongings together and told Rod to get her down to Marshall Hospital's ER right away, worrying so much as the pain started to wash over her face. Oh great, THIS was an auspicious beginning, to say the least. I finally got Trixie to come back into the building that she knew, through the office door and shut her in, trying to leash her. I discovered that she had pooped in the living room, with all of the stress, poor thing. I got it cleaned up, just before E&V arrived to find ME a stressed mess but they were like the cavalry, having a fresh perspective on the Situation. THEY had been watching and reading The Dog Whisperer and when Trixie finally found a "safety spot" (a closed in portion of my back-up stock shelf maze) in the workshop, they were able to clip the leash on, lead her out of the studio and over to the house. Just like that, easy peasy. (Right, easy peasy...SURE) We left that leash on for her to drag around the house and she finally settled down.

Lorrie was put into a splint, Rod came home and Myles, Trixie and Tank began their bonding. I followed E&V's advice and Erik and I took the three dogs on a leashed, short walk; a pack walk, which sealed us, forever. I did have a couple of times when I thought that she might not work out, during the first 36 hours but when she finally came up to Rod, allowing him to pet her (we were told that she was probably hit by a man), I knew that she was a keeper. It took two days for her to calm down but I finally felt that I could tell Chris and the Grace Foundation that Trixie was going to work out, here.

Australian Shepherd mix? Not on your life. When the paperwork for her adoption showed up on Friday, the words written on the page by the original vet spelled out where the "energy" comes from; Border...Collie...Mix. Bingo. No, I am not getting sheep...shut up. We are all feeling stronger, thanks to the Forced March walks up our hilly trails each day. We hoof it up the hill and Tank hoofs it up the hill but Trixie not only hoofs it up the hill, she runs up and throws herself back down off of the high ground above the path. Up and down and up and down and up and down and all around. Good...you do that and I will stand here panting from the forced march. Tank will watch you and think about doing what you are doing but realize that HE is now the older dog with arthritis in his hips. She is a keeper. She loves the cats and the grandkids and especially Tank. Tank loves her to pieces.

And that, dear readers, is how I came to be rudely awakened each morning by 5:30 with two like-sized big dogs with cold, wet noses.

PS, I will attach photos to this post, when I get over to the Freezingasscold office but mind you, whatever photos of Trixie come about will probably be blurry from her non-stop life force. Welcome home, Dog.

Tank is a happy guy.

This girl still for a moment.

Once the tongues have been reeled in, there are quiet times. Good stuff.

Here is a gratuitous shot of some baby that I know, for all of you who keep asking.

Comments

[Janice in GA]

Congratulations on the new addition!

I've noticed that most dogs ID'd as "Australian shepherd" on Petfinder are... NOT Australian shepherd. Alas. :)

[Lisa S]

Thanks Janice. She is most certainly Border Collie and perhaps German Shepherd. She has a soft mouth and is certainly NOT a retriever...she will chase it but Tank brings it back. :o)

[Melissa G]

Ummm, could Trixie be an English Shepherd? She looks like one; they are often mistaken for Aussies or Border Collies: http://www.nesr.info/whatbreed/ 
I have one named Dexter.

[Lisa S]

Melissa, Trixie looks just like dog. http://www.gotpetsonline.com/pictures/gallery/dogs/alphabetically/english-shepherd-dogs/english-shepherd-dog-0004/
Thanks for the tip!

[Melissa G]

You're welcome, and I forgot to say, congratulations! Many of the behaviors you described are typical of the stories I hear about these guys. Does Trixie end up in weird upside down positions when she sleeps?