the great escape

Even though Zuzu is almost 2 - she's still not entirely to be trusted.  Is any dog?  OK, how about any FRENCH BULLDOG?

When we leave her in the morning, we STILL put Zuzu in her crate with her dog bed, a treat and a toy.  She doesn't seem to mind so much.  As soon as her peanut-butter-smeared-purple-treat-saucer is placed inside the crate, she plants herself next to it and stares at us while we frantically clean up breakfast dishes, pack lunches, hopefully all of the homework, and push kids out of the house.   She sits very still and focuses all of her energy on us making sure we don't forget to put her IN the crate WITH the treat.   But doesn't it seem like a nearly 2 year old dog should have more freedom in her own house?

Baby steps...or gates.  We put up baby gates in the kitchen so that she could at least roam the one room when we are not there.

But every time we come home - she's at the front door to greet us.    We've tried piling chairs in front and behind the gate and still - our little houdini manages to get free.  How does she do it?

Secret cameras reveal...

it's the old face-smush trick.

It works every time.

a sleeping dog will lie...

on her dog bed!

 More or less.

Got a little crafty over the vacation and made Zuzu a new dog bed.  When she gets sleepy she will truly plop down wherever she is but if given the choice she does look for some padding between her bones and a bare wood floor.

When she was a tiny puppy we bought her a puffy donut bed thinking it would be the perfect cozy nest.

Unfortunately, she was convinced it was a peepee pad.  She didn't mind sleeping in it once she had done her business, so it actually served a dual purpose (ugh!) but we were doing an awful lot of dog-bathing and laundry to keep her comfy and clean.  Eventually we had to toss it. 

As soon as I put this mat down on the floor she knew it was hers.  Maybe because it's pink.  It may not be as fancy as Marco's digs, but it will definitely do.  Fabric, pattern (more or less), and inspiration from the Purl Bee.

ahhh summer

Where did it go?  And why does it always go so fast?

the commuter

With everyone off to sleepaway camp and potentially long, lonely days at home for doggie,  I decided to take Zuzu to work with me in New York City for a few days.

the passenger

Getting a doggie out of the house is certainly simpler than getting kids out of the door with all of their homework assignments, lunches, instruments and everything else we forget on a daily basis.  Zuzu's gear includes food, leash, poop bags, chew toy, and water.  But most awkwardly, doggies have to be in carrying cases on New Jersey Transit.  Zuzu is used to being on a lap, or at least next to one, if any of her humans are available and seated.  She did NOT like being cooped up in her Sherpa.  As plush as the accommodations were, with a panoramic screen view on 3 sides, a cushy floor, and a treat ball,  she fidgeted, clawed,  and tried to scratch her way out of the bag.  The train ride never seemed so long - even for New Jersey Transit.

obstacle course

Once in the city we popped Zuzu out of her bag and she was ready for action.  The first day we decided to take 6th Avenue uptown and walk 13 blocks to my office.  At 9am, rush hour Midtown Manhattan isn't really looking down for a little white French bulldog.  Occasionally, she'd get a giggle or a squeal from a Swedish tourist, but as we navigated the crowds she was largely invisible.   At each stop light, the crowd would thicken on both sides of the street while people waited for a walk signal, so that they could then stampede toward each other on their way to the next corner.  

Whenever we stopped, Zuzu would try to push forward through the sea of naked calves to make her way to the front.  My big fear was that someone would trip over her leash in the middle of the street, but thankfully, that never happened.  At one particularly long stop light, while we waited in the crowd, Zuzu stretched her neck out and began to LICK the woman's calf in front of her.  I certainly didn't see that one coming! Luckily, the woman laughed.

Other than trying to extract salt from human legs,  Zuzu attempted to eat as much garbage as she could find.  And NYC is full of it.  Just about every curb has it's share.

some more than others...

It was quite a relief to get to my office! 

nap time

As soon as Zuzu got to my office and made her rounds of hello sniffs, snorts and licks she lay down on the floor and slept.  

As long as I was at my desk she was asleep at my feet.  When I had a meeting, suddenly Zuzu had a meeting too.  And if I went to the bathroom, guess who came with me?

walkies

Zuzu likes to do her business on grass and if you've been, you know New York City isn't famous for it's grassy knolls.  On my block there are a series of 3 raised "planters" filled with mulch for trees that "grow" in the center.   Until that day I mostly ignored or jumped over them, like everybody else.  Suddenly they were potentially quite valuable litter boxes.   I plopped her on top of one of them and told her "pee pees". 

After much sniffing, no action.  This cement box of mulch was far from the real thing and clearly offended Zuzu's sensibilities.  Luckily, I work near Bryant Park - the crown jewel of Midtown. 

It may not have a dog run, but Zuzu immediately sensed the park's Parisian flair and and made herself right at home behind a planter.

Employee of the Month

Zuzu was a little superstar in the office.  She is such silly little girl. She spent a lot of time sitting at people's feet and staring at them until they put her on their laps. Suckers.  Winnie, our assistant editor, took this portrait of her at lunch.

home again home again

At the end of the day Zuzu's daddy and I met and walked her back to the train station.  It had been a long day and she was happy to see a familiar face in the crowd. 

Zuzu really seemed to enjoy the fast pace of NYC and the working life.  Mostly she liked all of the laps to choose from.  If it wasn't such adventure getting her to and fro,  I might bring her more often.  Life is definitely better with doggies - all day long.

how the other half lives

This is Marco, a Japanese basset hound, who lives in Kobe, Japan.  His owner, Toru Hirose, has built him his own private snack bar, restroom, and napping space.  Did you see that?  "built him".   

Marco lives in an 800 square foot apartment on the 15th floor of his building.  Toru wanted Marco to have his own space, hidden from view.  He also wanted an alternative to taking him for a walk.  The wait for the elevator might be too much for Marco!  Now, when Marco is thirsty he just trots over to his water bowl which is conveniently located in a private alcove 10" from the floor.  He can drink his water from a shiny, happy, silver bowl without his ears dragging on the floor.   If he's had to much to drink he just turns around and backs into his nook where he has a fresh wee wee pad waiting for him to piddle.  And if he's tired from all of that activity, he can trudge 3 feet in front of him to his cozy white crate and take a nappy.

Toru should have named him Riley.  This is the life. 
Shhhh.  Don't tell Zuzu.

what now?

We've had a very busy month here - every weekend in July we have driven hundreds of miles up or down the east coast either dropping off or picking up a child from some adventure.  Last weekend we went up to the Adirondacks and then dropped Jasper at camp in New Hampshire - Zuzu even got to go on a boatride.

This past weekend it was Charlotte's turn - her first summer at sleepaway camp.  All day Saturday, she was diligently piling her clothing/books/flashlights/hairbrushes on her bed in preparation.  We were determined to have it all packed and by the front door so that we could just up and go on Sunday morning.  Despite all of our practice, this is highly unusual behavior for our family.    At dinnertime,  I happened to glance at the pooch who had been following me from room to room all day.  I noticed her right eye was swelling up.  Like the good mommy I am, I tried to ignore it, hoping it would go away.  How often does that work?  Um, never.  And true to form, by bedtime her eye had swelled to the size of a walnut, and she could no longer open it.  Perfect.

Given that we were once again piling everything into the car the next morning and driving for the entire day, we decided it was time for a Saturday night trip to the doggie ER.  For goodness sake, we can't have a one eyed French Bulldog!  What if?!?

I suspected she might be having an allergic reaction to something in the yard.  That, or the dreaded distichia had returned.   Back in March, when we took Zuzu in for her one year checkup, we mentioned that Zuzu's left eye was tearing pretty frequently and as a result she had long brown stains in her folds.

Distichia - an extra layer of eyelashes growing in toward her eyeball - were scratching her whenever she blinked.  Poor nunky.  She had to have them removed (to the tune of $1500!).  We couldn't very well let her go through life getting scratched every time she blinked.

After the operation, we were told that they could grow back, but that it was unlikely.  Hmmm.  It's about time for that, right?  And she had just started tearing again the weekend before,  rubbing her eyes on the sisal carpet when she got up in the morning.

As it turns out, she scratched her cornea.  Not sure exactly how.  But when they dyed her eye orange to examine her, there it was.

48 hours later, a cone around her head, and some antibacterial ointment 2x/day - all better.  At the follow-up with the vet it turns out there are no new distichia to speak of.   Phew!

poop patrol

Warning:  the images you are about to see are extremely graphic.  Some people may find them disturbing, even disgusting.  Please proceed with caution.

It's fairly predictable.  Whenever I take Zuzu for her 7am walk she heads for our big beech tree where she takes break number 1 (a peepee).  At the sidewalk we head left for about 15 yards and she starts sniffing for a spot, on the spit of grass between the sidewalk and the street in front of our house.   Interestingly, she never takes break number 2 (a poopie) at home.  No, she much prefers to cross the driveway to our neighbor Jerry's grass.  Every time. 

Personally,  I prefer the comfort of home - unless I happen to find myself in a fancy restaurant or hotel, where I always make it a point to visit the facilities.   I suppose it's much the same for Zuzu, she prefers luxury - a well-manicured lawn when she can find one, sans weeds.  And Jerry does an enviable job of tending his lawn.  In fact, Jerry, who is retired, is out there every day, sweeping the sidewalk, cutting the grass, tending to his curb appeal.  Who can blame Zuzu for wanting the best? I always worry that Jerry is looking...and thinking "here comes the poop machine".  But the sweetheart that he is,  if he is out there, he just wants Zuzu to give him some love.  

She also seems to have a penchant for pooping in front of white picket fences. 

It seems Zuzu is not the only one looking for a picturesque spot to do her business.  I spotted this one on a walk in Santa Monica a few days ago.

Isn't that a pretty gate?  The dropping was actually part of a giant chain of poo (of which I have spared you the complete picture).  Nasty, and remarkably, left right in front of someone's multi-million-dollar-mansion.   Why?  My husband's theory -

VENDETTA

out with the old...

This is Zuzu's chew toy of choice.   She's been chewing on it a little bit every day for about 6 weeks.  Yesterday when I was running errands I decided it must be time for a new one. Right?

That's much nicer, isn't it?  When deciding what size to buy, Nylabone suggests that if in doubt buy the bigger size.   After the Greenie incident - I wholeheartedly agree.  This one is chicken flavored.  Before I even took it out of the package she was ready.

Speaking of the package, there are guidelines (usually neglected, yet always informative) in which Nylabone advises:

No dog toy or chew is totally indestructible.  Frequently inspect any chew before giving it to your dog to make sure it's whole and intact, with no missing pieces.  Replace a Non-Edible Chew when knuckle ends are worn down, or if it becomes too small to chew safely. 

 I'd say it was time, wouldn't you?   I think Zuzu would agree.

Why do dogs love to chew? With a 10 minute internet search here's what I found:

1. Chewing helps relieve tension and stress. 

Not sure this is the case with Zuzu.  She doesn't really let stress get to her.  She's a pretty firm believer in relaxation followed by a long nap.

     2.  Puppies start chewing around the age of 3 months, when their permanent teeth start coming in and they chew in earnest until the age of six to ten months when most of the permanent teeth have come in.

I'll buy that.  Teething hurts.

     3.  Dogs chew because they are bored.

Really?  Zuzu will chew anything chew-worthy in front of her, but does she really chew out of boredom? My guess is that dogs chew initially as a means of exploration, but once they get going it feels so good, they do it until they get bored.  (p.s. How can you tell if your dog is bored?)

When I gave her the Nylabone,  Zuzu got right down to business.  She sat about 3 feet from me but kept swiveling away to protect her treasure.  If I got too close, she'd pick up and move away again.

We have been very lucky that for the most part;  Zuzu does not chew shoes, or furniture - although she still can't be trusted in Charlotte's room.  There are about 10 different chew toys strewn about the house, which seems absurd for one small doggie, but there are so many choices in the dog toy aisle. What to chew? What not to chew? Currently there is a debate going on considering the safety of some of the more natural chew toys, such as rawhide, pigs ears, cow hooves and other body parts. We were instructed upon adoption that under no circumstances should we ever offer Zuzu rawhide or pigs ears.  They may be a problem for all dogs, but for Frenchies, the excessive salivation produced could cause them to choke (fatally).

So, the rule of thumb seem to be: if you see the item falling apart in chunks or pieces, dispose of it immediately, and, ironically, chew toys made of natural materials are the most dangerous.

That means if Zuzu was ever living in the wild,  she could only hunt in a forest inhabited by brand new,  artificial animals with nylon bones.  And she could not chew on them for too long.

tribes

If you've read much of this blog, you may know I'm a knitter.  Sometimes people ask me what I knit.  Not sure there's a theme really.  If I see someone who needs a sweater, I'll make it.

If I find a pattern that inspires me,  I'll knit it.

And sometimes I just like to make stuff up.

But I do knit - a LOT.

This past weekend I was lucky enough to attend the Squam Art Workshop in Sandwich, New Hampshire. Now that I think about it, I don't think I had a single sandwich.  But I did have one of the most exciting and inspiring 5 days of a lifetime.

It all began with a ride in the fabulous and talented Cal Patch's  dark green jeep.  We had never met which is so hard to believe now.  I guess I sort of hitchhiked on line and she picked me up.  Phew!

We left pretty early but we had so much to talk about that we missed several turns and didn't arrive until dinnertime.

I still can't believe that this was the view outside my window.

While there I took several classes where:

• I learned some excellent knitting tricks from the young knitting wizard,  Jared Flood.
• I learned the meaning of "upcycle"- the act of making something beautiful and memorable from treasured scraps languishing in our cupboards for far too long, from Charlotte Lyons. 
• Most importantly, I found the courage to try something new (which was really hard!).

Maya was the guardian angel sitting on my shoulder when I took the plunge.  Everyone in her orbit saw the halo.  I wish I could have put her in the maya*made bag I bought at the craft fair and taken her home with me.

I went to Squam completely alone.  I knew not a soul.  And yet once I was there, I felt I knew them all - from the women in my cottage to the teachers of my classes to the people I met at the dining hall or walking in the woods. Best of all was being surrounded by this tribe.   We all belong to several tribes.  The first, and most obvious is our family.  Beyond that we have geographic tribes defined by our neighborhoods, professional tribes at work,  political and religious tribes, and more. There is an automatic kinship with the other members - an understanding that creates a space to share ideas, knowledge, and stories.

Many of my tribes cross over.  But my craft tribe is somewhat unto itself.  I very rarely see them. Connecting to them made me see things about myself that I hadn't realized.  Spending time surrounded by them was profound - there were so many inspiring people making beautiful and brilliant work.  It was so hard to leave.  Is that how Zuzu feels when we take her to the dog park?

I was at breakfast one morning realizing I was very near to knitting the buttonhole of a sweater I was working on.  I never liked my own buttonholes, they're just never quite right.  I looked around the dining room and thought, of all of the places I have ever been this is the room where someone will know how to make a better buttonhole.  In fact, sitting right by the entrance 2 women were wearing beautiful cardigans.  Sweet Natalie, who collected our meal tickets. was wearing her brilliant blue tea leaves cardigan with 6 perfect buttonholes.

Next to Natalie, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee was wearing a gorgeous green cardigan, which upon inspection,  I realized had no buttonholes.

It had taken a bit of daring for me to get up and wander over to strangers to ask for knitting advice, especially from Stephanie. There were quite a few knitting superstars at Squam - Stephanie (aka the Yarn Harlot) being one. One night she told us stories that had me laughing so hard I couldn't see my knitting through my laugh tears. When I asked them how they make buttonholes they replied in chorus "Yarn over, knit 2 together!".  So obvious!  I said that I usually make the one row buttonhole to which Stephanie responded, "Yes, that's a good one too, but you need to wrap the yarn when you make it, let me show you."  She pulled out the socks she was working on from her bag and demonstrated, on the sock (!), how to make the perfect one row buttonhole.  I stood there smiling and nodding while watching her knit, but frankly I was so mesmerized by watching her knit that I couldn't hear a word of what she was saying.  I have never seen anything like it. It was more like watching a spider weave a web than any knitting that I have ever seen - fast, furious, and impossibly perfect.  I still shudder with disbelief to recall it. I thanked her and when I turned around I thought, "yarn over, knit 2 together".

I knit at every event, many meals, and during all my free time at Squam - and it wasn't rude!  In fact, everyone was doing it.  My concentration wasn't the best, consequently I made a lot of mistakes, but I did manage to finish a striped baby sweater just before I had to leave and head back home.

Zuzu seemed relieved to have me home.  Her human tribe was once again complete.  We have never been separated for 5 days.  She followed me everywhere until finally I sat down.  She jumped up on my lap, snuggled in and went straight into a snorry slumber.