Things I'm thinking about as I start to pedal

[summer_jackel]

I. My dogs are weird.

I usually lock Jez in the kennel at night, but I am getting a little more lax about Jez in general. At 10 (Jezebel is 10? Dear gods, when did that happen?) Miz Wolfie has slowed way down. When they were young, I was always aware that my pack could probably get out of the yard in about two minutes if they were motivated, for instance by the appearance of a dog they didn't like and might therefore want to eat, and supervised them accordingly. Still, when I woke up to the slightly concerned realization that I'd left her loose for the night, it was a far cry from the oh shit panic that same moment might have inspired when I was 25.

This morning, I was just mildly relieved to note Jez still asleep in her doghouse and all of my chickens yet living and unmolested. On closer inspection, the only thing out of place was an almost-empty bottle of kennel disinfectant in the doghouse with her. Thankfully unchewed, although I'm sure that she planned on it until she stopped to smell the thing. Dude, Jez, of all the forbidden items in the whole place that you could have appropriated for your illicit destructive pleasure, you chose the soap?

I should be grateful.



II. My dogs' friends are weird

kynekh_amagire was kind enough to gift my pack with a very cute toy opossum. I debated keeping it for my own collection of plush, but ultimately its texture and squeaker convinced me to dog it. I'm glad. Not only are the puppies adorable when playing with it (we know pet toys are all about amusing the owner) but after a bit of time with them, its rather lifelike fake fur has given the thing an uncanny resemblance to a real opossum that has been worried by dogs.

I find this morbidly awesome and highly appropriate. It also reminds me of a couple of times throughout the years when I've gone out to say good morning to my wolfdogs and found them calmly and happily chewing on a limp 'possum that wasn't, actually, a plush one. I am so amused.


III. The cat is also weird

But you knew that. Trucker is starting to open up and gain some opinions, which is nice to see. One of these is that she certainly is not interested in being a house cat, thank you, and though she seems to understand the cat door conceptually, her little Siamese nose gets distinctly bent out of shape if a human is present and fails to open and close doors as she directs.

This is a relief to see in a cat who came to me starving, hiding, and effusively stress-affectionate little over a month ago. Trucker is a paragon of understated self-confidence, but her transition into my household has had its challenges. This place is full of active puppies and a complement of three established cats, and lacks the clutter and profusion of hiding places she's been used to all her life. Though she established herself immediately as top cat and is very good at training the dogs, I could see in her grimness as she did it that she thought this meant survival.

Tame thing to a wild thing to a tame thing again, to be abandoned and then asked to trust again; this history is written in her behavior. Trucker has learned to move like a feral cat, lightning-quick under the house when she sees me coming, and yet when I meet her there with my laundry, she approaches me with raised plume and a rusty purr. Disreputable old cat, still ragged-looking with three layers of regrowing coat; I'm trying to make this all easier on her.

I still probably shouldn't have responded to her stridently yowled demand with tuna the other night. Yeah, Trucker's real personality is starting to show through, alright.



IV. I'm probably a little weird, too

Pedaling on a bicycle trainer on my deck, going on hour 2, writing about my animals to distract me from the complaints of my legs. I haven't actually got around to considering how long I'm planning to ride, but I am settling into that calm, endlessly powerful feeling that means I could ride fast and for a very long time. So I probably will. It feels efficient, predatory, like I could climb over a fence if I wanted to, take down an errant rottweiller just like that. The sky is grey, the redwoods muted, and though it has been an emotionally difficult week I am currently satisfied and joyful.

I wish my brother would get home so that I could eat some of the birthday cake I made him last night. Since this was his 21st birthday, I'm not realistically expecting him until at least midnight. The puppy was sprawled at my rear wheel for awhile, because collies really believe in the 'loyal dog' thing, but of course hasn't offered to chew on my water plants since I've been watching. Jezebel---who is 10, and how did Timothy manage to become 21?---is asleep in her doghouse, which they seem to do a lot as they age. I will check on her in a bit to make certain that she hasn't made any more creative toy usages.

Comments

[archteryx.livejournal.com]

You're more then a little wierd, Jackel, but in all the RIGHT ways. You and your pack are a pretty perfect match for one another. :>

[troubleagain.livejournal.com]

I have had to deal with entirely too many animals that have been killed by my dogs. Ladybug (lab mix) was a very fast, quiet, and efficient killer, doubly so when she and Jasmine learned to team. :D

But I think a plush possum would rock. Ladybug had a duck toy that quacked instead of squeaking, and I loved that, since she adored her noise-making toys, and most of them squeaked! Of course, because she loved plushies so much, I had to hide any that weren't "hers."

[summer-jackel.livejournal.com]

Rogue's oldest and favorite toy is a quacking duck. "Get me the duck" is her cue to get any of her toys now.

My dogs have never gotten into my plushies, but then I tend to keep them in areas off limits to the dogs.

[teahound.livejournal.com]

Our Bailey is a primarily inside dog. She loves barking at the rabbits that tread through our backyard, though I doubt she'd know what to do with one if she caught one!

My fiancee's beagle, on the other hand, has killed many moles in her backyard. She tries to get them away before he gets the chance to spread them across the yard.

[summer-jackel.livejournal.com]

I've always had my wolfdogs in the house only when I'm supervising; they are quite the different experience from most dogs, and have a way of finding ways to get into trouble and things to destroy when one isn't keeping an eye on them. Mine tended to get restless after spending awhile in the house anyway, and Jez usually lets herself out the pet door...which I think is hilarious because it is the intended size for small dogs and cats! How does she even fit?

[dollbunny.livejournal.com]

Raksha has only now become too big to houdini herself through her old puppy sized door. It was always quite a sight to see her squeeze through.

[teahound.livejournal.com]

Oh, definitely. We've had one boarding at our kennel for quite some time and she's very much a mischief-maker. xD

Beagles an get into a whole world of trouble too, actually! My fiancee got to hear hers howl - not bay, but full-on howl - for the first time ever today. She was nearly in tears from awe. <3

[noahbrand.livejournal.com]

Agh, holy fuck, your brother is 21? That makes me... 138, give or take.

[summer-jackel.livejournal.com]

My point.

[dollbunny.livejournal.com]

I'm thinking I'm gonna have to lock Raksha out back at night. she gets super destructive when all the people are asleep. The other night it was my bag of seed packs for the garden and two bottles of car soap. Bottles of soap seem to be the in thing in chew toy choices. :)

[summer-jackel.livejournal.com]

This is perhaps some odd new lupine fashion thing?! Bottles of soap. She ignores the expensive, interestingly-textured rubber chews and plays with the indestructible stuffed toy just long enough to shred it, but the soap bottle, she wants. Go fig.

It is in the nature of wolfdogs, particularly young ones, to destroy things spectacularly when unsupervised. I managed three wolves sleeping indoors with me for three years' worth of law school because we shared a fairly small room, and they were never left alone in it. The only thing that would keep mine contained reliably was a chain link kennel with a paver floor and a chain link roof. Even then, Pryde got out of it a few times (strong enough to muscle through the roof). It has worked quite well; the kennel became their 'crate', collective safe zone, since they got enough attention and exercise. When in the house they were always under command, usually a down-stay.

[oldewolfe.livejournal.com]

Sierra tore *through* the chainlink of her run once.

I *used* to have chickens. I *used* to have fresh eggs every morning.

Now I have thicker chainlink fence.

[kynekh-amagire.livejournal.com]

"Take down an errant Rottweiler"? Heh. Come to my neighborhood, won't you?

"Oh, I'm so sorry about your beagle! I let the Jackel out to exercise in the yard, and she must have jumped the fence... yes, it's a terrible shame. Really going to miss his constant, desperate, nonstop yapping. I'll think of him whenever my parrot says SHUT THE FUCK UP GODDAMNIT in your voice."

[cphoenix.livejournal.com]

The section on Trucker reminds me of a couple of Echo's Children songs that you might just love as much as I do.

No matter when it happens, it's always a surprise
To look to you for love and see old shadows in your eyes
[.....]
The pattern of the injury is written in the scar
All that we were raised to be is part of who we are

http://www.echoschildren.org/CDlyrics/PartofWho.HTML

Also, "Old Patterns":

Bequeath what you have is the law of the gene
So in the descendants the parents are seen,
But drifting alleles may combine to expose
A fly with four wings, or a colt with three toes...

The last verse begins, "Forgive me the patterns that make it so hard / To reach for your heart with a heart love has scarred..."

http://www.echoschildren.org/CDlyrics/OLDPATRN.HTML

[summer-jackel.livejournal.com]

Thank you. That last verse in particular is very nice.