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| A gift in the mail |
| 12.30.03 (4:56 pm) [edit] |
I made a little gift, and sent it in the mail. Now, I am hoping that the recipient gets it today. It was mailed on Friday.... jeez I hope he likes it.
Half as much as I like him
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| Cell Dogs |
| 12.29.03 (7:10 pm) [edit] |
This is my new favorite television show. I had heard of this program, matching inmates with rescue dogs to train for service dogs.
So wonderful to watch. These people, in prison, no hope. Until this dog walks into their llfe. These are guys and gals with life sentences. They don't have high powered attorneys that can reduce sentences. They will do much of the time sentenced. Sometiimes that means 35 YEARS.
So- let us progress. Let us utilize this talent, to help train service dogs. Such a cool concept. I was in tears. It is a wiin-win situation for everyone. The dogs are rescued from sure death. The inmates learn a very valuable skill and bond with a dog. They get to participate in an activity that improves the llives of those that need the service dogs, therefore, feelling as if they are contributing back to sociiety. They are.
I am enamored of this concept. If I am granted the opportunity to assist, via training, or financially. I am so very there.
This is my new favorite program.
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| I REALLY mean it now - NO sick Poodles! |
| 12.29.03 (3:19 pm) [edit] |
My pool pump needed some parts. Read, enormous bill from pool guy. Now - I tell ya, any dog that gets sick around here better be prepared to produce some very pretty puppies and call for some sizable stud fees. That leaves the spayed girl right out.
No one is allowed to play in case you bump into someone else and hurt them. No jumping. No running. No eating anything other than that stuff I put in your bowl. OR ELSE!
Don't make me sell you on Ebay. That would be very very bad..... to sell poodles on Ebay. I would be very upset. So, as your mom, and your sole source of income, please - behave your little fluffy selves and stay healthy!
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| You POODLES better stay healthy! |
| 12.28.03 (9:57 am) [edit] |
Just paying bills here. This biz of being self supporting (read working in Florida) and all alone is for the birds. I have paid all the bills that I can, and rest assured that there are more that I could pay.
All I can tell you is that everybody better be on their best poodle behavior. No accidents, no eating foreign substances is allowed. This is critical.
I do have to say, however, that the freezer and the fridge are stuffed with holiday leftovers from family and friends and I doubt that the grocery bill shall be very much at all for the next month or so. Just dog food.....
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| DRUNK POODLE! |
| 12.28.03 (7:12 am) [edit] |
Now that the dust has settled, I am beginning to recall bits and pieces that were funny over the Hannukah dinner weekend.
I had eggnog this morning. Just eggnog, with a grating of nutmeg on top. It reminded me of last weekend.
My family - consisting of sister - who lives an hour and a half away, daughter, grandchildren and dear friend Carol descend upon the homestead for dinner of brisket, latkes, noodle kugel, and other delights.
My sister enjoys eggnog. I had some here for her. Early in the afternoon, she decided that she would have some. She poured some in a glass, and added some rum. We noted that the rum was not going to be enough to hold us for the weekend. So she decided to go get more before she drank her drink.
I was still busy in the kitchen fussing with dinner. The dogs were in their crates. Tracy had brought her old black lab, and I didn't want Missy to be overwhelmed with all the puds. Mom's llasa apso - an aged guy himself, also was wandering around. Tracy took Missy with her for the ride to the liquor store. Her last words to the llasa apso were, " don't touch my drink. I want to finish it when I get back".
I decided to let Lacy out for a break while it was quiet. I opened the back door. She went out and came back in. The house was quiet. Then I heard it. Slurp slurp slurp.
Drunk poodle coming up.
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| Painful Holidays - what I need |
| 12.26.03 (6:24 pm) [edit] |
I need My M-Blog Family
Silly, perhaps. But as I have grown into my skin, I have come to accept that I know what I need and when.
I need my M-blog famiy. I need to know that you are wrapped around me llke a worn out sweater. For some of us, the holidays are bittersweet. I need you- I need to know that you are reading this, thinking this, feeling this.
I am delighted for those who get to view the baby smiles, help unwrap the hoards of gifts.
I place myself in the body of F'Cali, Moonface, me- for many of us, the work of the holidays- the WORK of living through them, is difficult at best. We don't want to complain. At least I think I speak for them... but if not... I speak for me. We try so hard- to be positive, upbeat, humorous.
Truth be told, holidays are for families-- or at least - couples. Even Ground Hog's day - what is the point if you do not have someone to share it with?
ARBOR day - same same.
For we who are alone- there is no one to bitch to, about the myriad of things that there are to bitch about.Budget pales by comparison.
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| Este mujer dice besseme mi culo |
| 12.26.03 (5:44 pm) [edit] |
Don't tell me that I do a great job and then find the single flaw.
I am so ready to tell you that I am giving notice. That you have two measely weeks to try to find someone that can manipulate the software- make that flawlessly.
Truth be told, those who don't make mistakes - they are not doing a whole lot.
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| Ecstasy - It Appears to be a Tragedy of Epic Proportion |
| 12.24.03 (10:24 pm) [edit] |
My friend and I have been friends for nearly 30 years. We have watched our children grow up together, have gone through the cycle of Bar Mitzvahs, birthdays, happy times, not so happy times.
We are very very good friends.
I got a terrible telephone call last week. Her son, 28 years old, was in neurological intensive care.
He is home now. I saw him tonight. He is a different person. His speech is slow and strained. His gait is halting and stilted. He almost falls every other step.
I suspect, as does she, that this is the result of Ecstasy. This is a healthy young man, who could keep you in stitches laughing at his jokes. Now he is an old man in a young body. Something went terribly wrong.
This is tragic. I have watched this child grow to be a man. I remember him in diapers. Now, he is almost back there.
All that I can do for my friend, and her son, is to be there emotionally. All that I can do is pray that we are granted a recovery. That this can be turned into something positive, a wake up call.
I want you to understand. I love these people. When, as I was, you have to look for your family from a multitude, they become as important to you as if they were your siblings.
I have come to understand that many who blog here are young. I want to offer you this information.
Watching this drama unfold is hurtful. Thinking that it was drug related, that it could have been easily prevented, is tearing us apart.
Please. The next time someone tells you how wonderful this crap is - please remember this truth - of a young man who ruined his family - in all likelihood. His life will never be right. He may never be able to walk like Jason, talk like Jason again.
Please. I implore you to not replicate Jason's lapse of judgment.
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| Tarot, Kabalah, Torah |
| 12.22.03 (5:53 pm) [edit] |
Some think that looking to the future is an anathema to Torah. Some study Kabalah (Jewish mysticism) and Tarot.
I am one of the latter group. Each card of the major arcana represents a number. Like some locks, sometimes more than one key fits. Like some keys, sometimes they fit more than one lock.
It is interesting to me that there are 22 major arcana which correspond to the 22 paths on the tree of life and the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet.
I also find it interesting that the Hebrew letters play a huge part in the reading of Tarot.
For what it is worth, my significator is the Queen of Cups. Deal with it.
I will be more than happy to share my limited knowledge of Tarot and its' relevance to your life- if asked.
I have found it to be a way to focus on what should be the next step. I don't think that it is a way to "tell the future" as much as it is a way to see where you have been, where you are going, if you might want to change that path.
Tarot, as palm reading, stones, runes, tea leaves, or any sort of connecting on a different level than is accepted generally at Bridge luncheons, allows those of us who are a bit more - sensitive- to share with you what we see. Sometimes that is a leap of faith.
You may take that leap. Or not.
I remain available.
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| Shuffling the Affairs of Dead People |
| 12.22.03 (2:12 pm) [edit] |
That is what I did all day. Shuffled around the paperwork to get the affairs of dead people in order so that their heirs could get the remaining assets. Doesn't that sound exciting!
Someday maybe I will be able to do what I want to do all day long. Train dogs. Until then, people keep dying and I keep submitting the proper pleadings to the Court.
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| GIMME LATKES!!! And JUNIOR SHOWMANSHIP!! |
| 12.21.03 (8:05 pm) [edit] |
Every year at Hannukah, I make latkes- traditional potato pancakes served with applesauce and/or sour cream. Now I have realized this year, that there have been a couple of things that have become traditional that I find completely necessary to make latkes. I am bemused.
1. my Tupperware bowl with the drainer in it. Peel 5 pounds of potatoes and grate them. Be amazed every year at how much stuff drains to the bottom. Every time I consider parting with that bowl with the built in strainer - someone remind me that I will need it for latkes. Thank you.
2. I have a wonderful food processor that will grate the potatoes and onions in seconds. It sits on the counter looking pretty and efficient. My grater of choice? It was purchased in an Asian grocery for $1.00 a bunch of years ago. It is about 4 inches wide and 6 inches long. It is a wooden frame upon which a sheet of steel with the appropriate perforations were punched. If you flip it over, it is revealed that in a previous incarnation, it was a can - I think tomatoes. I would be totally lost without this grater.
3. The cast iron skillets that I use to fry the latkes. Above my kitchen island hangs a cart wheel that was once used for a pony cart. I have very nice pans and cast iron. This year, I used a cast iron skillet probably purchased at a garage sale for less than $10.00 and a Calphalon Paella pan that set me back mucho more. The skillet produced the latkes more rapidly and was easier to control.
4.. I have a special platter used only for latkes. It is meaningful to me to pull it out every year. It is not good china. Indeed, it is chipped. But, it contains memories of hannukahs long past. Babies barely able to gum a latke are now looking to me to teach them how to make them. (My grandchildren and I find great joy in cooking together).
So those are my special latke making tools. It is funny in a not so ha ha way, how I am combining ingredients to make dinner and combining memories past with present to make future.
I would like my babies to remember fondly, the latkes that combine potato, onion, egg and matzoh, fried in oil to create food for the soul, and memories. I want them to have their own tools for latke making. I want that tool kit to include the image of their loving bubbe grating potatoes on a tin can grater into a special bowl with love.
I want them to know that I created each latke hoping that they would all be wonderful, that I wanted to enrich their lives with latkes and heritage and hope for their future.
I see each of them in a different light. I love them differently. Which is not to say that I love one more than the other. I love in each of them, that which is intrinsically special about that person that is my grandchild.
My eldest, Justin - so sensitive, very talented artistically.He knows when I am in need of a special hug. He is very attuned to my losses. He is the only one, really , who remembers his Zayde.
Tyler beauty incarnate - this kid is FUNNY! Smart, quick to assess a situation, most likely to accompany his bubbe to dog shows. I would love to get him involved in Junior Showmanship.This kid is a star.
Morgan: Tough girl. Has the innate ability to be a superb athelete given the opportunity. I would like to provide her with the opportunity. Perhaps gymnastics, maybe some other sport. I think she might do well with Jr. Showmanship.
My plan is to take each of them separately on a couple of three weekends. See if the dog show world strikes any fancy. See who, if anyone, may be interested. This is an industry that they have access to.
Funny, I started talking latkes.
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| Holiday Party and I did not Cut and Run! |
| 12.21.03 (7:28 pm) [edit] |
It was a Lovely Party
I went, dressed to the nines in black velvet slacks, wonderful Stuart Weitzman shoes and a twin set with sequin trim. I felt almost kind of pretty.
There was a ton of food. It was a covered dish sort of thing. I brought a cheesecake and was thrilled to see that it dissappeared VERY rapidly.
It was wonderful seeing the plaques and awards passed out to the members. In our club, this year, 123 dogs and owners earned new titles. We had several very prestigious awards, Mach 4 Agility titles. We have a Master Earth dog.
AND - I flirted with this guy.... and he flirted back. So maybe nothing will ever come of it. He had come with some other members of the club. He does not have a dog. Maybe it was just a nice foray into flirtation. But he seemed nice, and maybe we will be brought together again. Maybe not.
But I did not get there to turn around and go home. I went, I introduced myself to several people that I had never met, and I didn't even have a dog with me. No security blanket whatsoever. How about that.
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| We Nearly Killed a Dog and Parties |
| 12.21.03 (12:54 pm) [edit] |
Sissy brought her aged black lab mix girl, Missy. Missy will turn 15 in March. But she nearly died today.
Missy has a couple of big ole honkin' tumor looking things that we suspect are not benign, but due to her advanced years, there is little that can be done. Sissy is resigned to helping her out of her little black earth suit if her quality of life slips away. We thought that it had. She looked like she had had a stroke. She was unable to maintain balance and her eyes were darting back and forth. She was holding her head at an angle. Then she threw up.
This morning, we decided to take her to the emergency room and do what needed to be done. Imagine our delight and surprise when the vet told us that she has a very bad inner ear infection that could be cured with a round of antibiotics and a shot of something to reduce the inflammation. Within an hour, she was better and is now resting comfortably with Sissy in the bed. The improvement in her walking was nearly immediate. Blessings.
Regarding the party, tonight I am going to go to the Dog Training Club annual holiday party. I am bringing a cheesecake that I made yesterday. Let us hope that I don't chicken out at the last minute.
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| Brisket, Latkes, grandchilden and old dogs. |
| 12.20.03 (6:50 pm) [edit] |
My sister, dear friend, and daughter, plus the grandchildren descended upon the house of poodle for a Hannunkah celebration.
I made a brisket from a Jewish Holiday Cookboolk. Redolent with garlic and paprika, it was, if I must say, pretty darn wonderful.
Carol made a noodle kugel that was so yummy.
I did Latkes with sour cream and or applesauce.
My sister's old dog may have had a stroke. She is not so good.
The years march on. I don't think this old girl will be with us next hannukah. I doubt she will be with us in the morning.
We did well by her.
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| Little Boy Nicolas and Celebrating Miracles |
| 12.19.03 (7:07 pm) [edit] |
Nicolas is the son of my boss. Now, I generally think that once they get past crockpot size, there is little use for kids. For Nicolas, I make an exception.
But I have to tell you, that at the ripe age of six, Nicolas has already endured loss, and it caused him great pain. He began to stutter uncontrollably. His world began to spin on a foreign axis, and it was awful.
His family suffered the loss of a perfect baby girl. On the day that his daddy was to take his last final exam of law school, and a mere two days after Thanksgiving, this beautiful family, who were looking forward so very much to the arrival of Nicolas' baby sister, were instead to deal with enormous tragedy.
Nicolas' mommy felt something was terribly wrong. She was right. Baby sister died before ever being born, due to the umbilical cord slipping up around her neck in utero. Elaina was delivered to never know the love her family had for her. She is an angel. She never took a single breath.
Nicolas' mommy was told that the baby was dead, that she must go through labor and delivery to deliver a dead baby. What a cruel blow that must have been.
It stands to reason that when we were brought together, Nicolas' dad and I, that loss and sympathy and compassion would enter into our relationship.
I cannot fathom the loss that they have all endured. They, I am certain, feel similar. I only know that Nicolas - at age four, began to stutter uncontrollably. A reaction, no doubt, to his parents' grief and his inability to understand, to cope.
Like the miracle of Hannukah, the miracle of Christmas, another baby sister arrived. Kady is healthy, happy, and keeps us on the run.
Nicolas and I are celebrating miracles.
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| STEALING FISHIES and the parable of the Sadu. |
| 12.18.03 (4:30 pm) [edit] |
I am REALLY in a quandry. Part of me genuinely wants to steal the fishie. Part of me thinks that they will simply replace that fishie with another.
Maybe what we NEED to do is generate legislation preventing the sale of fishies in these containers with plants.
The betta jar with plant on top is a bad idea. I learned this from my friend Flaring. If you doubt that it is true, go to Flaring's blog and ask. She knows her bettas betta than I do. (Irresistable, really, I could not help myself.)
The jar is on the counter of my favorite pizza place. I am tempted to steal it. I have a co conspirator who will serve as a distraction while I heist the fishie.
Perhaps I should make up a decoy fishie jar to substitute. Then it would be a matter of sleight of hand. But then what, one fishie gets rescued and the other 4,000,000 live in a wasteland hell?
Ethics. It is all about ethics.
The parable of the Sadu. What to do, oh what to do. I think I shall consult my Tarot deck.
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| The Hannukah Letter to Nicolas. The Prologue and Show and Tell |
| 12.18.03 (4:22 pm) [edit] |
Yesterday, I brought the letter and a plastic dreydel filled with candy and a Hannukah coloring book to Nicolas.
He brought home some homework about Hannukah. He got to answer the questions and then when he got home, his dad gave him my little gifts that I had placed in a blue felt bag with a white star of David attached.
Dad read him the letter. Today at school, the teacher read the letter to the entire class and he shared his dreydel with the class during show and tell.
Both mom and dad were delighted to report to me seperately that he was thrilled with the gift and the letter. I am very pleased.
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| Stealing Bettas- Lunch Dates - Ode to Billie Joe |
| 12.17.03 (7:34 pm) [edit] |
I have the sweetest client - some 70+ years, gave me a bottle of what she calls "perfume" with power. Told me it was important.
Boss is ALLERGIC. Recently, I have taken to wearing ONE drop - on thigh for Diana, my dear client.
Went to pizza place. Guy walks up, strikes up conversation. I am bemused. Diana would be eating this up. He tells me that his name is "Billie Joe". He wants to know how often I eat there. I finally agree to meet him there again today.
We have lunch. I look across the counter- see one of those betta jars with a pretty fish - and a plant crammed in the top. Now BJ and I are conspiring to steal the fishie. He will meet me there again on Tuesday. He will distract. I will have a big raincoat. I will take fishie away from that fetid environment. On the following day, I will return the bowl and plant with an artificial fishie.
While cooking the plan, I thought of Flaring, and of Lizzy. I know, it is but one fishie. I don't know that it is not too late. I don't know how long this fishie has endured this amonia infested lifestyle.
All I can do is try. Mission not so Impossible is about to begin.
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| Where am I? What time is it? |
| 12.16.03 (7:00 pm) [edit] |
The two questions that are so important to remember. The answer: Where am I? Here. What time is it? Now.
I must remember to always be aware of my surroundings. The time is always the present. The location is always here.
Chop wood, carry water. Chop it well. Dig the best ditch ever.
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| Hannukah explained to a Six Year old Boy |
| 12.15.03 (4:45 pm) [edit] |
Dear Nicolas,
Your father told me that you were interested in knowing how Hannukah is celebrated. So I thought I would try to answer some of your questions.
Hannukah is a celebration of a miracle. Just like you celebrate the miracle of Jesus, people who are Jewish celebrate a miracle that took place a long time before Jesus was born.
What happened is that some very mean people went into our temple (like your church) and made a very big mess. Imagine how you would feel if people went into your church and poured paint all over the place and broke the windows. Wouldn't that be awful! So that is what they did. They broke all the nice things in the temple and they smashed all of the containers where the oil for the lanterns was kept. See, that was so long ago that people burned oil in lanterns at night to be able to see.
There were some very brave people who put their foot down and made the bad people who were destroying the temple go away. When they were finished, they went into the temple to see if anything could be done to clean it up. The broken jars of oil were everywhere. The oil was all spilled and there was none left for the lamps in the temple. But tucked away in a corner, there was one little jar of oil that did not get broken. It was enough oil to light the lamp for only one night.
That, Nicolas, is where the miracle came in. You see, G-d had blessed the Jews because they were good people. So that little tiny bit of oil burned for eight days, instead of just one.
So every year, we celebrate the miracle of the oil with a celebration of light. It is really a celebration of religious freedom, which is, in its own way, light. We celebrate by burning candles in a special candleholder called a Menorah. When we light the candles we say special prayers. We sing special songs and play a game with a top called a Dreydel. I have given you some dreydels to play with. We gather with our family and friends and eat festive foods. Some of those foods are foods fried in oil to remind us of the oil in the lamps. These are potato pancakes called "Latkes" and we LOVE them! We also make jelly doughnuts that are fried in oil. YUMMY!
So, Hannukah is a celebration of family and friends gathering together to remember how important G-d is in our life. And how important it is to remember miracles.
I would guess that your mommy or daddy is helping you read this. When they get to the part where G-d is not spelled out, you can explain to them that the name of G-d is too holy to be destroyed when you throw away this paper. So we never write out the whole word.
Nicolas, I hope that you have a wonderful Christmas and a very Happy Hannukah!
Love,
Susan
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| The Poodles Letter to Santa Cohen |
| 12.15.03 (1:40 pm) [edit] |
Dear Santa,
We have been very very good poodles most of the time. Except when Colin ate that tube of Neosporin and the time that I ran out the front door without letting mom know and that time that Colin jumped over the little fence to the carport in the dark and did not answer when she called and called and called.
Oh yeah, and the times (daily) when we bark like lunatics at the dogs next door and the times that we ate the laundry and the times that I (me, Lacy) counter surfed and cleaned mom out of butter completely. And the time that Colin got excited and wagged his tail knocking a lit candle off the coffee table because Angel was visiting and the time that Colin embarrassed mom completely by trying to give her friend's leg puppies. Also there were the times that we jumped up on the grooming table to get the training treat bag that we promptly emptied. And I forgot about getting into mom's office and eating the 3 brand new tubes of glue and the time that someone who shall remain nameless ate a pair of shorts that belonged to a guest.
Actually Santa, we have been pretty bad poodles. I guess we are really lucky that mom loves us as much as she clearly does. So we really cannot imagine that we deserve anything other than lumps of coal... but wait!
We have too been good! There are the times that we make mom laugh (especially me, Lacy!) and that we are always there for her. We make it so that she feels safe at night because even though the truth is that we would not bite on a bet, we sound like big scary dogs. We cuddle with her when she drips from her face and try to lick her tears away. We are always ready to play with her. We remember to snuggle with her in the bed every Saturday and we let her know every day how much we miss her when she is at work. And I worked VERY hard to learn what she needed to do to get her first leg toward our Companion Dog title. Colin is trying his very best to learn too!
So Santa, although we are poodles (which, although we are the national dog of France, we are originally German - ie Pudlin = puddle) and Mom is Jewish, we thought that maybe you could be called "Santa Cohen" and we could ask for some special treat for Hannukah.
We would like: 1. Whirled Peas (we don't know what that is, but everyone in the beauty pageants ask for it so it must be good.)
2. Nylabones - mom says that rawhide chews are dangerous for dogs. She says that the broken off pieces swell in the digestive tract and sometimes cause the need for emergency surgery. She says she would sooner let us smoke cigarettes than chew rawhide. And we don't smoke.
3. See, Santa, Colin had this really wonderful toy called Tick. And my friend Boomer tore Tick up. And you may think that the woman in Best in Show searching for a Bumblebee was funny? It was not. I can relate. Mom has tried for months now to find Tick. Please Santa. Tick was my brother Colin's favorite thing.
4. Monkey - see number 3.
5. Freeze dried liver in a 50 gallon tub. Make it like one of those things in McDonalds with the balls that the kids dive into.
6. A kitty. Hey, what does it hurt to ask?
7. Santa, I would like mom to be a better groomer. Santa, can you manage that?
And Santa, thanks for giving us mom. Since she is the only mom we have ever known, you would think that we wouldn't know any different. But we go to dog shows and the dog park and other places and we see how other dogs are treated. We have it good.
Thank you in advance
Lacy the poodle and Colin too!
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| My Sister's New Boyfriend and Poodle Bracelets and New Friends |
| 12.13.03 (4:58 pm) [edit] |
So now that the newness of having accomplished the return to the obedience ring is beginning to feel more real (I am still lugging the ribbon around with me throughout the house) I would like to cover some other related topics.
1. I am very fortunate that I have such a wonderful loving and giving sister who tolerates me showing up on her doorstep with a pack of dogs and setting up grooming and training central in her living room. She has 5 of her own, and had 3 that she was sitting for a friend, so she dealt with a 10 dog household quite nicely.
2. She has a wonderful roommate from Istanbul, who has her mother visiting here. I was hesitant, but extended the invitation to her that she join me at the show. I feel that we became good friends over the next two days. She now wants to buy a new dog and begin obedience training and that is truly a wonderful thing. She was a huge help to me at both shows. She held Lacy for me when I needed to move equipment and she took two rolls of film. She provided a wonderful cheering section and gave me a positive attitude. I think that we have formed a friendship that neither miles nor time will breach.
3. My sister has a new boyfriend. I was hoping that I would like him. I was unprepared for how MUCH I like him. He seems to think that my sister hung the moon. He is kind, and thoughtful, a gentleman and a nice person. We went to dinner and then to a little place they go to frequently. I had a wonderful time. He is very handsome, and pretty quiet. He seems to love my sister a lot. I would not be at all surprised if he asked her to marry him quite soon. I would not be at all surprised if I am asked to be Matron of Honor. I will be happy to, as long as I don't have to wear some goofy dress that looks like something one would wear to a prom.
And that bracelet she gave me is just about adorable. That is all I have to say.
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| First Dog Show for Lacy - First Leg for Her Companion Dog Title |
| 12.13.03 (6:44 am) [edit] |
I began seriously training Lacy to compete in Obedience Trials in mid October. My last obedience dog was in training for at least 9 months - maybe longer. Jasmine was a wonderful girl, a black sharpei. She scored VERY high and we won trophies and got her Companion Dog title (CD) very very quickly.
I entered Lacy in the Orlando Poodle Specialty for her first show experience. First show with what, six weeks of training? I had no expectations of winning with a really great score. I wanted to qualify. In order to qualify, you must score 170 out of a possible 200.
Thursday, we did not qualify. We did very well (better than expected) on the figure 8, the stand for exam, and the off lead heeling. But on the recall, Lacy came at me like she always does, at a full gallup. Then she completely lost interest in what she was doing and began wandering around, looking for new friends to play with.... and I had no option but to call her back. That is a double command. NQ - Non Qualifying score.
Friday came and we were off. I decided to try even more to smile and focus on MY footwork, MY body language and to trust my dog. It paid off.
Our score card: Heel on Leash and Figure 8 :
28 out of possible 40
Stand for Exam (30 possible) 29 - MY FAULT! Lacy was perfect. I did not return to HER heel position.
Heel Free (40 possible) 30
Recall (30 possible) 23 - Lacy's fault. She comes flying across the ring, then went shopping again - or something - she simply wandered over to a corner and began sniffing the mat. My heart was doing that cartoon thing where you could see it pounding in my chest. The judge stood eyeball to eyeball with me and said "don't say a word". Hours went by ( ok maybe a minute) , he says "patience" and we all waited until she got close enough to me to qualify as a finish.
So the judge was VERY generous, VERY patient and gave us a 170. The good news is that our scores are not published on her certificate.
And now she has some experience, and a leg toward her CD. I will begin training as if she were competing in Open class so that we can continue to build on the heeling and the recall without her getting so bored that she refuses to do anything. The only way to do that with a poodle is to give them the opportunity to learn new things. So we begin with the dumbell and the broad jump and the high jump.
It felt wonderful to be back in the ring.
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| If ONLY Obedience Judges would Come to My Front Yard |
| 12.07.03 (4:22 pm) [edit] |
If Obedience Judges Would Only Come to My Front Yard
I tell ya, that girl KNOWS her stuff.... out in the front yard that is. So much so that in a sit stay, a kitty went flying by across the street and she did not break the stay.
Now- will that hold on Thursday and Friday? Anybody's guess. I have done all I can. I explained to her how important it is to both of us. I tried to explain that although at home and school, when she does something good she gets a little treat, that cannot happen in the ring. But that if she is very good and very patient, she will get a VERY BIG treat when we are finished. To be sure, she will get a very big treat no matter what, just for trying.
One of my trainers told me that a person was disqualified due to giving a treat just outside the ring. They entered, the dog had not swallowed, and spit out the treat. Foreign substances are not allowed. Out they went.
Also, unlike the conformation ring, any dog that pees or poops is out.
Only one collar, and it must be the proper type. No double commands (hand and voice).
So much for both of us to remember. Lacy is at an advantage here. She is not being flooded with memories of past trials. For me, those are some of the best times of my life, and they still make me cry. Of course, in my current emotional state, I cry at Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, so what else is new.
And then the bracelet- so poignant the timing of the initial gift, and the finding of it again.
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| The Most Wonderful Things Can and Do Happen |
| 12.06.03 (7:06 pm) [edit] |
The MOST Wonderful Thing has Just Happened and I Take it As An Omen Of Things To Come
February 14, 1992, Joseph gave me a stunning diamond tennis bracelet. It was the most wonderful tennis bracelet in the world because he gave it to me.
I wore it that day to (what else!) a dog show and took a Group Win with Ben. It became a good luck symbol. I cherished it.
Then one day I made the mistake of admiring our cleaning lady's bracelet and remarking that I had one just like it. Which wasn't really true, mine was much nicer... She stole it the next week and replaced it with her own. I discovered it and confronted her, surprise! She never came back.
We replaced it with one that had larger diamonds. I wore that one nearly daily as well.
My darling husband died on October 26, 1999. Within a month, my dogs were both dead from a variety of causes. My entire family was wiped out inside of a month.
Flash forward to May, 2002. I went to the Poodle National Specialty in Annapolis Maryland. When I returned, the bracelet, once again was gone. This time, I feared, forever.
I am preparing to go to Orlando. I am ironing the clothes I have chosen and thought about getting down the garment bag to begin packing. From a shelf in the closet I pulled a carry on bag. I put it on the bed. Then I noticed that there was a moist towelette package in the bottom, beneath this bottom stiffener thing that came away. When I picked it up, there was my bracelet.
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| I DID NOT post the previous poetry. |
| 12.01.03 (7:21 pm) [edit] |
It is nice stuff, but it is not mine. I take no credit. I did not know who Susan Pulling was until after I saw it. I would hate to have anyone think I was trying to take credit for writing these poems.
Mystery solved - BabyGirl did it.
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| Poodle poetry! |
| 12.01.03 (6:59 pm) [edit] |
Little Ode
Standard Poodle
mini, toy
In any size
they bring such joy
.......by Susan Pulling
The Versatile Poodle
Some poodles are dyed and wear ribbons in their hair,
Some wear fancy clips that may cause us to stare.
With their bright colored leashes and jeweled collars we fuss,
While their main goal in life is to simply please us!
There are big ones, and small ones, and mid-sizes too.....
Makes no difference to us if they're black, white or blue.
And the best of them all, are the poodles that play ball....
'Cause they're acting like dogs, which they are after all!!!
.......by Jane Simpson
Poodle Comfort
We come into the world as a small ball of fuzz
We grow very quickly; that's what a poodle does!
Just as quickly our personality grows!
We give kisses, hugs & nibble on toes!
All we need is love...
We'll return it in a thousand ways, for the rest of our days.
We'll make you laugh; we can really clown
We'll always be there for you when you're down.
.......by Jean O'Connor
Poodles Are People
Poodles are People....
No doubt about that.
They cannot be classified
As 'dog' or 'cat.'
They're more than just pets...
They are bright and refined.
And they don't just want dinner,
They want to be dined.
Yes, poodles are people
Like both you and me.
Just ask any poodle...
He is sure to agree!!!
.......Author Unknown
My Furs
My furs are not in storage,
nor lying on the bed.
They're lounging on the sofa,
Waiting to be fed.
.......author unknown
Terms of Endearment
A Poem for the Butt-Nipped
Dear friends I do confess
Now please don't be aghast
My husband likes to take a towel
And snap me in the ass
Do I worry of a lawsuit?
Don't be silly, don't be crass
He would never snap another
I'm his one and only lass
Now my poodle, being human
Can also be inclined
To express her deep emotion
With a nip at my behind
This little game of hers
Is a canine way of saying
That "You human, being poodle
Understand the game I'm playing"
Yes the poodle and the husband
Share the twinkle in the eye
That betrays their true emotion
When I casually pass by
On occasion I protest,
Put the two of them on "down"
But inside I'm thrilled they love me
Enough to clown around
.......by Susan Pulling
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