Warning, if you are not a Bloodhound person DO NOT read this blog post. But if you are a hound person, read on! This post is all about ears.
My Frankie is a prolific digger of holes. She loves digging. A hole to China? Give her an afternoon. I only wish I could harness that energy and direct it, maybe have her trench a line to lay cable or something. Alas, instead I find myself constantly leveling those holes so I don’t trip and injure myself.
But here’s the thing, there is NEVER enough dirt refill them! Where does that dirt go?
Specifically, her earth-caked right inner ear (though the left one gets filthy, too).
First official HOUND DOG EAR question: Why is her right ear ten times dirtier than the left? Does your Bloodhound have one “dirtier” ear?
Which brings me to my NEXT ear query… starting with eye goobers.
You know the eye goobers. Icky slicks of “sleepers” seeping down her snout. They’re not anything to be alarmed over, and I try to keep tissues handy at all times to gently wipe them away, BUT occasionally no tissues, shirt sleeve or napkin is available and I improvise. Specifically, I’ll take the ends of Frankie’s long, lovely, dangly Bloodhound ears and wipe away the eye goober.
Yes, I’m a little grossed out by my actions, but I’d like to know if any other Bloodhound owners improvise in the absence of a tissue.
Finally, when your Bloodhound is sleeping, do you sometimes tip toe over and flip back her ear for better air circulation in there?
My heart goes out to my Facebook friends caught up in the tornado watches and extreme weather. One FB friend lives in Moore. I’m happy to report her house and hounds are all safe. So is she. But it’s especially hard for me to watch the images on TV of injured people and animals coming out of the wreckage.
Back in 2006 I lost my home and virtually all my possessions to a natural disaster. I kept a blog about my journey (since taken down), and someday I’ll share those posts again. Just not now. Strangely, reading all the tornado-related FB posts and comments doesn’t make me think of that time in my life. Instead, my thoughts were on the pets of those affected by the tornado. And then I started thinking about my pets, and my history with hounds.
So, I thought I’d share a bit about myself and my dogs.
My parents raised Chows. Aloof protectors, I loved our dogs, but never felt that greater connection to a dog until I met Max. Max, a Rhodesian Ridgeback-Pitbull cross, technically belonged to the neighbors, but for several years he spent 40+ hours a week at our place. I was devastated when he passed away on May 5th of 2008. (We’d just moved back in months earlier.)
Upon reflection, I think I may have rushed into my next dog, Frankie. I adopted her on June 16th of that same year. I’d always loved Bloodhounds, read up on the breed, and was absolutely certain I knew what I was getting into with a hound.
Ummm, no. No one is ever prepared for their first Bloodhound.
At that time, all I knew was that I wanted the opposite personality of Max, because no dog could ever replace him, and I didn’t want to be reminded of traits I missed so much.
Boy-oh-boy did I ever adopt the total opposite personality!
Max: loyal, prey-driven, obedient to a fault, learned commands quickly. Almost never on leash, even out in the brush where I couldn’t see him. Yet I’d call and he’d be bounding through the underbrush to return immediately.
Frankie: Where’s my dinner?
Frankie is my first Bloodhound. In my childhood, my Bloodhound was a stuffed toy I cherished. Sometimes I call Frankie my “starter hound”… because eventually I’ll adopt another. She’s a smallish 85-pound hound with a busted tail. The tail didn’t happen on my watch. I adopted her at 2 (?) years old, and 65 pounds, from a Lab rescue where she and the other dogs were fed once a day. These folks did the best they could and I am grateful.
Frankie came with a lot of issues, which is why she is a one-and-only hound. Her biggest issue is, of course, food! If you’re a Bloodhound person reading this you’re probably laughing your head off thinking, what hound doesn’t have food issues? (*SIGH* You’re right!)
Anyway, she FREAKS OUT on other dogs who happen to be around food. Any food. Otherwise she plays well, just as long as treats aren’t involved. This limits socialization, but not group walks or training.
On training: she’s stubborn. I’ve tried obedience. The entire class cracked up with laughter as Frankie became more and more determined to not do anything I asked her. For example, it took three of us, me the trainer and the trainer’s assistant to get her to lay down. Me pushing her shoulders down and the other two easing her front paws forward. Frankie tensed her entire body, like a steel tripod, refusing to cooperate.
At home, relaxed, she’s pretty good with commands. Right up until she decides not to do something. I’ll give her a command (“sit!”) and she’ll crane her head up, bat those beautiful eyes, and ignore me. It’s like she’s saying, I know exactly what you’re asking me to do and I’m not doing it.
I might even get a little tail wag with that “no.” So there!
She’s a gentle girl who worships, and fears, cats. She’ll get spooked by litter floating in the breeze, but she’s fine around gunshots. She’s always on leash except when she’s in a fenced area or inside. Her brain seems to be 98% in her nose. Doorbells drive her bananas. And sometimes, when I look in those gorgeous brown eyes of her, I’d swear she is my grandmother reincarnated.
Maybe that sounds a little kooky and I shouldn’t have shared that here, but what the heck. I really do think she is my mom’s mom returned.
So I’ll end this post on a question: do you think our loved ones can reincarnate as our pets?
My Bloodhound ate my bra. Chewed a hole right through it. Luckily, the hole is at the top of the right cup, and the bra is still wearable. (What was she thinking? Nylon smells nothing like dog cookies!). The point is, this used to be my BEST bra. It wasn’t my usual outlet-mall-discount-rack-$5.99 special. I shelled out serious money to buy it: A super-converter bra, strapless, backless, cross-back. All equally supportive thanks to its advanced architecture, underwire, and the little rubber skin grippers that may have been engineered by NASA and used on the Mars Rover. This is a seriously great bra. You wouldn’t even think hey, she’s wearing a bra in this picture.
And then I FOOLISHLY put it in the laundry basket…
Where the hound dog seized upon it one rainy afternoon…
Darn it! But I’m not tossing the bra (yet). I paid too much. Plus, what are the chances of finding a second one just like it? Shoot, I’d even settle for something similar. In the meantime, fixing the hole in is an option. Wearing tissue-thin T’s over a Franken-bra is not. My black James Perse razor-back is out of the question.
So I’m thinking layering… I’m thinking sweaters… and fabrics that don’t require perfectly smooth cups beneath… I’m thinking of the outlet mall. Because maybe, just maybe, I’ll get lucky and find a Super-Bra in my size, one that will NEVER EVER see the inside of a laundry basket, or the jaws of a bored Bloodhound.
Like many bloggers, in the closing days of this year, I am reflecting back on the months. Successes, disappointments, frustrations, and a lot of laughter, too. It’s all there. But I was also tried to recall a single moment that really stood out from the rest.
There was that ONE moment.
My memory jogged back to the T-mobile store a couple months ago, and I shuddered.
As the sales guy wrestled my phone open to replace my fried SIM card, a shower of dog hair floated from the phone’s guts to the countertop.
How does dog hair get INSIDE my phone? Does she secretly make calls on it late at night? In that moment, I felt my face burning. Dog hair? Inside my phone?Who has dog hair inside their phone?
I do, apparently.
The embarrassment was quickly followed by surrender. I own a Bloodhound. I’m with her almost all day, every day… so now there’s dog hair covering this man’s work station. Apologize profusely.
Still, as I cast about for a MOMENT, why did this one come to mind first? I don’t have an answer, but…
1. This moment wasn’t symbolic of this year. ( I hope not!)
2. This will never happen again (because I will slide the cover off myself and blow out the dog hair before I return to T-mobile).
3. If I worked there, fixing people’s cell phones all day long, I wonder where dog fur would rate on the scale of gross phone moments?
PS- In Frankie’s book, the Wisdom of the Buddhist Bloodhound, there’s no mention of Smartphones, but plenty of humor.
Welcome to random Wednesday. I have no theme, no direction, and no plan for my post today… other than I’m just going to write what’s been goin’ on.
Snow cancelled mini-vacation to coast with hubby. Bummer.
We made the best of the situation by turning off computers, drinking sparkling wine from Trader Joe’s, and renting movies. Ate pizza, too.
The next day we went out for Chinese food. My fortune cookie fortune reads: “A new pair of shoes will do you a world of good.” The Universe has a warped sense of humor. Shoes?!? Who is writing these things and why did I get that fortune?
On Saturday, a couple driving an SUV honked at us, then began waving wildly. Did we have a flat tire? Was our muffler falling off? My husband pulled over. The people rolled up beside us and asked if we needed our front fender fixed. Cheap. Really cheap. My “accident” happened in September, at a garage sale (of course!), when I clipped a curbside basketball hoop. The basketball hoop was fine, but the dent above the front wheel? A little larger than a gravy boat. After we emptied our wallets, and scraped up the coinage in the console, this guy popped the dent with a rubber hammer and polished it up for $27. In the parking lot. In the rain.
The tire went flat on Sunday. Two screws. In different spots. Darn. On the bright side, my husband dealt with it.
I still love my Bloodhound even though she ate my best pair of winter gloves. My right glove has a big CHOMP at the wrist.
Heard a romantic “how-we-met” story from a woman who lost her home to foreclosure. Forced to downsize, she sold off her possessions. This guy kept coming back, and back, buying up large lots at bargain prices. A year later, she’s shopping in an antique store when she comes across a booth filled with her old stuff… and the guy who bought it all. She tells him he should buy her dinner. He does. They marry a year later. And she gets most of her possessions back! Plus a wonderful husband! (I love this story!)
Movie dialogue that resonated all too deeply with me: “It’s everything I never wore.” (from Seeking a Friend for the End of the World)
I met a man who needed my lighted, animatronic flamingo more than I did. “Mingo-Clingo the Flamingo” has been re-homed.
Now, off to go shoe shopping because my fortune demands peep-toe stacked pumps. Just kidding. But maybe I’ll buy a new pair of leather gloves if I can’t fix the ones I have. How’s your week?