My "Heart Dog"

Among dog folk there's the idea of your "heart dog," that one dog that captures your heart and ensorcells your spirit.

Walker at eight months.

Walker is that dog. I knew it when I met him, a gorgeous little tricolored hunk of Corgi puppy about five months old, the grandson of a Westminster Best in Show-winner named Carbon Blue. He came to us permanently at six months old, joining our brindle princess Rosey (née Pawcific Postit of Penrose) and adding a spark of spunk to our sedate household.

He's certainly not perfect, by any means—hyper vigilant, barky, dog reactive—but sometimes you just can't help who you love. As I said to a friend recently, "He may be a butthead, but he's our butthead."

Walker with Rosey.

At nine years old now, he was recently diagnosed with a malignant tumor called an adenocarcinoma, an aggressive cancer around his anal gland. It was only discovered by accident when I noticed that he'd been drinking lots of water, more than was normal even in the summer heat. Thinking it might be a urinary tract infection (UTI) or problems with his kidneys, I took him in to a vet new to us, Heartfelt Veterinary Hospital, to be tested.

Walker and Kitty.

In drawing the urine sample—non-dog owners can stop reading right here—they found a swelling around his anal gland and did a biopsy. It was, as noted above, a malignant tumor. X-rays were done that indicated no metastisis of the tumor to his lungs or lymph nodes and blood work showed the same, so surgery was done.

On the beach.

A large (2" by 2") tumor—in situ, with no rupture—was removed, and he's resting next to me on the couch as I write this. It'll take a couple of weeks for the healing process, with lots of pain relievers and ice on the wound, but with luck he'll live a full life and have many more squirrel chases, ball retrieving and walks on the beach to look forward to. None of that is guaranteed, of course, only fervently hoped for.

Our Princess, Our Rosey

Rosey, our first Cardigan Corgi—the clincher, in her case, the one who spoiled us on any other breed, odd since we're not the purebred types, being mutts ourselves—aka Rosey Toes (or just Toes), Miss Rose, Our Princess, Rosey Roo…the list goes on.

After our first dog, a lovely Husky mix named Nikki, passed on at an advanced age, I was ready to downsize. I'd met many Corgis of the Pembroke persuasion, the smaller, docked-tail dogs that are the familiars of the Queen of England and, while I liked their size, I (no offense) was put off by what I perceived as their yappier, snappier personality. I met my first Cardigan, a dashing fellow named Tai, with a jaunty flag tail and generous nature and thought, "This is the dog for me."

Rosey was born, amazingly enough, in Australia, with the fancy and somewhat ridiculous registered name of Pawcific Post-it from Penrose, from a long line of champions and a delightful little section on her mother's side of non-champions like Lees Black Heckle of Gorthleck. She came to this country as a mere pup, shipped over in a crate that was flooded in transit, the poor thing sopping wet up to her nose in standing water. (To her receiving breeder's credit, she never flew again, one near-drowning being enough for any dog to endure.)

It's odd, as a family of mutts, to be thrown into the world of a dog who has had a "career," especially one as storied as our Rosey's. She apparently raced through her show career, achieving champion status in record time. Her breeder remembered she always got quite excited in the ring, and at one show in particular she jumped three feet straight up in the air, leaving quite an impression on the judge. (She was known to do the same thing at dinner parties, popping up behind our astonished guests.)

She went on to bear four litters of pups, many of whom then became champions in their turn and bore champions of their own. Her longterm lover, and, in dog terms, her husband of long standing, was the superstar Carbon Blue, the first Cardigan Corgi ever to win Westminster. Seeing them together and so besotted was a thing I'll never forget, a lifelong love affair that continued until he passed on four years ago.

Despite the monikers enumerated above, I always thought of her as a bustling house manager in a Downton Abbey-type manor, all petticoats and black skirts as she kept the youngsters in order and the house running smoothly. In her later years she settled into dowager mode, still able to keep up with the younger set on long hikes in the woods, pointing out squirrel nests and bird species, but not above a romp on the beach (her favorite) or digging a den in the dirt at a campsite.

Today was a sad day at our house as we said goodbye to this most graceful and fun-loving of her breed at the ripe old age of fifteen-and-a-half. Ten years with her was not enough, and we will miss her mightily.

A House Guest Appears

As I've asked more than once, what's the point of having a blog if you can't post gratuitous photos of your dogs?

For the next few days we have a house guest of the furred variety, bringing the total canine population of the household to four: Rosey (our senior member at the venerable age of 15 years), then, in descending order of age, Walker, Kitty and Miss Thimble (left), our guest.

As a friend remarked, "I can't imagine being so thoroughly herded."

Word.

Photo at top, left to right: Walker, Thimble and Kitty. Rosey declined the photo opp, as she was napping soundly on her pillow.

Gratuitous Friday Cuteness

Pander: verb 1. to act as a pander; to provide gratification for others' desires. Especially: "pander to the basest emotions." noun 2. Pimp.

Like a great meal occasionally calls for a touch of sweetness to cap it off, some weeks need a bit of the same to draw them to a suitable close. And there are few things sweeter than a passel of sleepy six-week-old Corgi puppies.

And no worries, they're all spoken for, so you don't have to worry about definition number two, above.

Puppies at Play

I've been bombarded with inquiries about Kitty's puppies, how they're doing, what they look like, etc., etc. Since I spent about four hours puppy-sitting yesterday, it was a prime opportunity to observe their activities, which consisted of play, sleep, eat, repeat.

Napping.

Occasionally these were interrupted by squatting in the wood chips at one end of their pen, but pretty much the previously mentioned three activities predominated. As you can see, they're looking less like guinea pigs and more like puppies, and are just beginning to chew on anything that catches their fancy. (My next visit is going to require close-toed shoes.)

More napping.

By the way, the sound in the background is a radio station. Kim Shira, the owner of Coedwig Cardigans, believes it's important to acclimate puppies to normal household sounds from the time they're very young. To that end she has a radio playing occasionally, as well as tapes that feature sirens, thunderstorms, traffic and other outside noises so they won't tend to be as reactive later.

You've got to admire someone who loves the breed as much as she does, and who's as conscientious as she is about how they're brought up.

Are 4-Week-Old Corgi Puppies Cute?

Why, yes. Yes, they are.

Fortunately both of Kitty's puppies are spoken for, so I can play with them and smoosh them to my heart's content, knowing they're going to loving homes when they reach 10 or 11 week of age. And I'm thrilled, too, that their mom is coming home to us when they're about eight weeks old, to retire in the comfort that she so richly deserves.

Can't think of a happier ending to the story!

Our Kitty Had Puppies

And two bruisers they are! The biggest puppies Coedwig Cardigans has had in 30 years of working with this breed, these as-yet-unnamed little dudes weighed in at 17 and 19 oz. each. (Normal birth weight for this breed varies between 8 and 12 oz. each.)

They were delivered by Caesarian section, and Kitty and pups are all doing well. She'll stay with them for eight weeks until they're weaned, which means I'll be making many more trips over there, so expect lots of updates to come. And don't worry, they're already spoken for, so feel free to enjoy them to the fullest!

(These shots were taken a little over 24 hours after they were born.)

Miss Kitty Regrets

My mother agreed with Ben Franklin, who said something like, "Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days."

While I'm sure that's true of some guests, this little lady has been a house guest for more than a week and we're starting to think of excuses not to send her home. Most of these wouldn't, to extend the fish metaphor, pass the sniff test. Especially since her owner, who allowed us to babysit while she was on a trip out of town, is a pretty sharp cookie.

Still, she just might go for the abducted by aliens story, wouldn't she?

The Cutest Puppy Picture Ever?

Nothing scarier than a five-week-old Cardigan Corgi puppy…so cute your head could explode. I know because it happened to me. Yikes.

The Monster Under the Dishwasher

It's probably time to stop calling Walker a puppy. He is, after all, closing in on the five-year mark, even though he still acts like a doofy puppy much of the time.

For instance, ever since he was just a little guy, his favorite spot in the house has been underneath the dishwasher door. The moment he hears the hinges creak as we open it to stow the odd cup or plate, he comes scrambling from the other room to dive under it. Of course, it was a lot easier for him to get under there and half of him wasn't sticking out, but to him it still provides a nice dark cave to find refuge in.

So if you come over, don't be surprised to find the dishwasher door down. There's bound to be something more substantial than dust bunnies lurking beneath it.

Kitty Has Puppies!

What's a better start to the holiday weekend than seeing a pile of Cardigan Corgi puppies? These guys (well, five guys and three girls) are just 10 days old. Their eyes are still closed but they're fat and wiggly and demanding regular feedings from their mom, Kitty.

Oh, and don't worry about being tempted…they're all spoken for, thank goodness! I'll be posting on their progress, so check back soon!

Puppy Love

One of the joys of having two dogs, at least for me, is that I have my hands full and don't suffer from puppy lust when I visit my friend Kim from Coedwig Cardigans. The other is that her dogs are so spectacular that she has a waiting list a yard long for her puppies and I couldn't have one if I wanted one.

So lucky me! That's not to say there's no temptation to tuck one of these little guys in my pocket and casually sidle over to the car, especially when he's as cute as Wave, above. So far I've managed to make out of there alone. But believe me, if that changes you'll be the first to know.

Manzanita Redux

I've been going to the beach since before I can remember, taken by my parents back in the day (or "B in the D" to use current vernacular) to any number of beach motels and campgrounds. There was an oft-told family tale of my mother and father as young newlyweds bringing his parents (called "the in-laws") to the Oregon coast for a camping trip to show off my mother's skills as a campfire cook.

Unfortunately for her, as she was coaching some pancakes or steaks or some such to grilled perfection on the red-hot iron grate, she slipped and caught herself from falling into the fire by placing her hand…yes, you can wince now…on that same grate. Since emergency rooms in hospitals weren't readily available or equipped to deal effectively with third degree burns in the mid-1950s, she bandaged it up and soldiered on as any young bride in that situation would have, presenting a brave face to the in-laws and never, EVER, wailing that she wanted to go home.

Dave with two favorites: beach and beer.

Dave and I tend to rent houses when we go to the beach if it’s more than a day trip, preferring to have a kitchen, decent beds and a functioning bathroom with shower nearby rather than a sterile and cramped motel room, especially since we can't deny Walker and Rosey the pleasure of running on the beach with dog-like abandon (see video at bottom).

Manzanita is a favorite spot having, as it does, a more leisurely pace than its northerly neighbor, Cannon Beach, which has gone from a sleepy backwater with a couple of taffy shops and myrtlewood knick-knacks to a near mall-like consumer paradise. A great local resource is Ocean Edge Vacation Rentals, with a staff that is always ready to work within our budget constraints and, even better, has many dog-friendly homes available.

Mmmm…linguini with clams.

On a recent trip for Dave's birthday we stayed at Coe's Cottage, a sweet and comfortable family retreat set back from the beach but with a terrific view of a sweep of ocean. With a decently equipped kitchen, the night we arrived I whipped up an…if I may say so…awesome linguini with clams using steamers from a local market. The second day I promised to take Dave to the spectacular Kelly's Brighton Marina to reprise a lunch I'd had there the week before, one that I knew would blow his mind.

Janice Laviolette, Kelly's best half.

Co-owner and genuinely funny gal Janice Laviolette brought three pounds of clams and two cooked crabs to our sunny picnic table on the deck overlooking the picturesque confluence of the Nehalem River and Nehalem Bay. With a couple of bottles of Ninkasi Spring Reign from the store's fridge, Dave agreed it was going to become a regular stop when we were within spitting distance of the place.

Four Paws for pets and their people.

Then it was back to Manzanita where I strolled the main drag while the guys took Walker for a run. At Four Paws on the Beach, with its supply of both necessities (food, leashes, treats) and not-so (toys, apparel for owners and their pets, and "pet prayer flags"), I finally caved to the lure of the Chuckit for Walker.

And how can you not love a beach town with three book and/or magazine stores? Cloud and Leaf is the more traditional, with an intelligent selection of most genres, including best-sellers and pulpy beach reads. Ekahni Books, a relative newcomer, describes itself as "an idiosynchratic selection," with mostly used titles from (Wm) Styron to (Nora) Roberts. (Could Powell's have been this size once upon a time?)

The classic Manzanita stop is at Manzanita News & Espresso, which has anchored this beach town since I first went there, and it still has the coolest curated selection of zines both popular and eclectic. And the coffee's decent, too.

Mmm again…crab cakes!

Other must-stop shops for inveterate consumers are Syzygy and Unfurl, two (mostly) women's clothing shops that share a building on the town's upper end. Moxie Fair Trade has taken over from another fair trade gift shop nearby, with much the same colorful inventory of gifts, pottery and clothing.

I picked up a fresh steamed crab at Great Northern Garlic Company, a wine bar and small plates place, and took it back to the cottage to make crab cakes with whatever basics I could scavenge from our supplies. Fortunately we had bread for breadcrumbs, a bit of chopped onion, limes for zest and mayonnaise to moisten, and with a salad of greens from the garden and broiled asparagus, we called it dinner.

The last day Dave whipped up a spectacular breakfast of mushroom omelets with some of his bacon and bagels we'd brought, then we cleaned up the place and took the dogs on one last romp on the beach. Here's our 12-year-old Rose doing what she loves to do. And needless to say, she slept soundly the entire trip home.

Puppy Upper!

It's been a darn long time since I've posted any cute puppy pictures, so here are a couple I snapped when I got my puppy fix this morning visiting a litter of 5-week-old Cardigan Corgis.

With the good news about the passage of the Family Farms Bill (HB 2336), the day just keeps gettin' better and better! Enjoy!

More Corgi Cuteness

You see, it's like this: I have these two dogs, both Cardigan Corgis. They're the original breed of Welsh herding dogs; the ones the Queen of England has are Pembroke Corgis, which came from breeding the Cardigans with Schipperkes, a type of spitz or sheepdog (the debate rages). Cardigans are generally heavier and are considered the "taller" of the two types.

Walker at his post.

Anyway, when I weary of telling my dogs that, no, it's not necessary to alert me every time there's someone walking by two blocks away, I pile the couch pillows on the chair by the window where Walker (the younger of the two) likes to perch while "on duty."

Yesterday I walked in and he had burrowed into the pillows, and I was so charmed I couldn't even yell at him. Dang!

The Darling Dozen: Ready to Fly?

It's almost like they do it on purpose just to make you feel old. You get together with friends you haven't seen for awhile. You ask about their kids and they start hauling out pictures (or their iPhones), regaling you with stories about taking Bobby Sue and Jimmy Joe to visit colleges. And you think, "Wasn't this the kid who was just starting grade school a couple of years ago?"

It's like that with this litter of puppies. It seems like only a couple of weeks ago they were little wiggly things the size of a large cigar. Then today I visit and find myself suddenly surrounded by a dozen fat little bears all eager to lick my face and gnaw on my exposed feet (a dicey proposition unless you feel like giving them their first taste of blood).

At seven weeks their ears are going up and down like elevators, though some have definitely taken a stand. They're all spoken for, some going to "show homes" and some to "pet homes" but all of them thoroughly vetted. (I checked credentials…after all, I am their Auntie.)

But even though it made me feel like time is flitting by, I can't seem to stay away. And by the end of next week most of them will have flown the coop.

Corgi Death Match

I have to apologize for the lack of posts in the last few days. No, I haven't been standing in line to get a (non-existant) Wii for the big guy for Christmas, nor have I been indulging in too much pre-Christmas cheer of the liquid variety. Suffice it to say that between having a puppy trying out to be a new member of the family and moving my mother into her new garden apartment, it's been just a little wacky around here.

For those of you who have yet to venture into the land of double-dog-dom, be aware that it's not just twice the work, especially if one of them is a puppy. Albeit a very sweet and happy one who's (almost) house-trained (and no, you're not going to get the blow-by-blow on that one). It just means that you can't leave the house for more than three hours at a time and you've got to know where the little guy is at all times unless you feel like risking the aforementioned house-training incident, or a shoe-disembowelment, mentioned below.

The good parts, though, are so far outweighing the frustrating ones, though Dave's lawn-mowing shoes are looking a little the worse for gumming. Any others have been moved up out of prowling range. And Chester still rules the roost, having done a little intimidation of the glare-and-cuff variety.

So, how are they two canines getting along? Judge for yourself:

A Bad Case

There are some things I have to avoid completely. Otherwise, I get sucked into the vortex and end up having to claw my way out every time. Certain food groups fit in this category (see oysters, below). Certain people, too. And there was that time I had my first vodka martini. But that was long ago and the lesson was learned.

But the one thing that gets me every time (and I haven't figured out how to avoid it) is puppies. And you have to say it like the Wicked Witch of the West. "Puuuuuuuuuuuuppies." Dangerously cute. Frighteningly cuddly. So infectious that I have only to see them at a distance to catch the disease known as puppy-itis.

This time it's little guy named Walker, a Cardigan Corgi about four months old. He has huge front paws, big wobbly ears and meltingly big brown eyes. "And he's house-trained, and Rosey likes him," I say to Dave, who just shakes his head, knowing I'm deeply in thrall with another canine infection.

The good news is that I've progressed enough at this point in my life to know that it's just going to take a few days (and nights) of togetherness for the magic to wear off and reality to set in. So before I jump into the vortex this time, he's going to be coming for a few days over Christmas to see how he does with Rosey and Chester, not to mention our shoes, since he's going to be at that chewing stage. I'm hoping that'll be the cure and the fever will pass.

But then again, if the honeymoon isn't over when it's time for him to go back? Well, I'll just have to keep you posted.

Little Devil

I apologize in advance once again for taking advantage of my readers, but, you see, I have this weakness for dogs with (virtually) no legs. And don't get me started on those sad people who buy sundresses for their pugs or the retailers who prey on them by selling such abominations. But by golly, can I resist a Corgi in devil horns all ready to go out trick-or-treating for biscuits on Halloween?

No, I cannot. Sorry.

Thanks, Loo, for the photo...and Tai for being so understanding.

Cardigans

No, not the sweater kind. We're talking Cardigan Welsh Corgis, dogs short in stature but long in intelligence, gentleness and genuine personality. We had suffered the loss of our 15 1/2-year-old Husky, Nikki, and after a few months we were missing having a dog around. After doing some research and meeting an incredibly lovely Cardigan, Tai, who lives with our neighbors Laura and Rick, we decided to give this short-but-with-a-big-dog-personality breed a try.

We knew that getting a puppy would be too much of a shock after having an elderly dog, and neither of us wanted to go through the house-training, chewing, manic craziness of a young dog. After contacting several Oregon breeders and asking if they had any two-year-old-plus dogs available, we met a breeder who was retiring a lovely girl of six from the life of a show and breeding dog.

And when we met Rosey, we knew she was right for us. These dogs are great house pets but have the stamina to walk miles, especially if it's on a beach or in the woods. They're speedy, too, though it looks as though they'd have trouble keeping up with a family as tall as ours. And they love to have fun, whether it's chasing a ball or other dogs or tugging on the other end of a rope. Best of all, they're portable and love accompanying their families on trips.

And you tell me...who could resist a face like this?