Furniture and Beds

Bella has taken to furniture in a big way. Well, not any furniture, just the furniture I am on. At the beginning of last week, she'd slither up. By last night, she was leaping over my legs to "her spot." Cute, but not allowed. I tell her to get off and she does, but Bella doesn't take "No" for an answer. She isn't defeated by "Off." She is an innovator. If one method doesn't work. She tries another.

For example... I was reading on the bed and she hopped up on the right side and curled up. I told her "Off" and reluctantly, she got down. Two seconds later, she goes to the left side of the bed and hops up. "OFF!" Again, she gets down. Next she circles to the end of the bed and eyeballs me to see if I'm watching. "Don't even think about it!"

For the moment, she acquiesces, goes over to her bed and audibly grumbling, lies down.

My Smart Puppy

Bella is 9 months old. She's still a puppy, though a maturing one. This week, our first back home together sans hubby, has been unusually hectic. I've had a lot of obligations on top of work that meant my sweet girl had to spend more time than usual in her crate. So it was not unexpected that she would be quite "frisky" when she came out. She wanted to play constantly. I found my energy level didn't come close to matching hers and my patience began to wear thin. I wondered what odd brain cell had burst in my skull making me think I should get a puppy.

On Wednesday, she was at her worst, demanding attention that I didn't have the time to give. I made the mistake of releasing a tennis ball in the house. Bella has a habit with small toys to chew them by the couch and somehow push them under the couch so that I must retrieve them. After responding to her barking for me to get in action and get her ball way too many times, I grabbed the ball and put it away. Bella continued to bark. I grabbed her and put her outside. In a matter of minutes, she was scratching at the back door to come back in.

When I opened the door, there is my adorable puppy looking eager, tail wagging, with a very, VERY, muddy tennis ball (she had buried who knows how long ago) in her mouth. You could just imagine her saying, "I found another one! Can we play with this one?" How could I possibly stay mad?

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Yesterday I went to PetsMart to get her a couple of new toys. She had eaten the ones she had to a dangerous level, so I decided to replace them. We went on a long walk afterwards and when we returned to the car (in PetsMart's lot), I decided to take her in and see what their baths cost. My husband normally bathes her, but he's gone for the month. My back has really been bothering me, so I thought if the cost wasn't exorbitant, I'd let them do it rather than trying to pick her up to place in the tub.

I haven't brought her in the store for several months as the excitement level had previously proved to great for her. I wanted to give it another try. My oh my! She was excited, of course, because of the new smells and all the people and other dogs, but she stayed right at my side all the way to the back of the store. When we entered the grooming room, there were three dogs in addition to Bella crowded into the tiny waiting area. While the other hounds were pulling and winding their owners in their leashes, my sweet little girl-dog sat right next to me. Some one excused their dog's behaviour by saying it was only a couple of years old and asked about Bella's age. I said, "Nine months." They were floored how calm and well-behaved she was. I was so proud of her! She did a stellar job! What a smart puppy!

Dog Camp

My husband and I took a 3-week trip through the southern California deserts. We'd been there before and love them at this time of year, but wanted the chance to do more leisurely exploring. At the end of the trip, I would fly home and he'd continue on through Baja for a trip of his own—the benefits of recently retiring.



The big question was whether to bring Bella or not. I personally don't like flying, so the thought of flying my puppy was even less inviting. None-the-less, I called airlines, did on-line research and asked everyone I knew with a dog, "Have you flown your dog? How did it go?" The verdict was positive, but it seems nearly everyone went in with some trepidation and came out relived, but not necessarily eager to do it again. And, if nothing else, it's another $100 on top of an already expensive ticket.


In the end, I left Bella with my sister-in-law, which caused some anxiety as well. They have lost their last three dogs to cars. Their yard is now—and here's the critical factor—almost completely fenced. They also have a dog (Bella's half sister, Molly) to whom they are devoted. I knew Molly wouldn't leave the yard and that Bella wouldn't leave Molly, so I was as comfortable as I could ever be leaving my dog. When I dropped Bella off, she took one look at Molly and the two of them took off on a chase. It proved the perfect time to leave to avoid causing any kind of scene.


During our trip, we realized the desert just isn't dog-friendly. Although it was cooler than we anticipated, it was no less spiky. In phone calls back home, the dog stories we heard were wonderful. Bella was a good house guest and between Molly and their 14-year old son, she was in heaven. She got on furniture, had human treats and licked the dishes as they went into the dishwasher. What pup could ask for more? In fact, as our weeks progressed, I became concerned Bella would refuse to return home. She was having way too much fun!

Luckily, she was not only excited to see me, but eagerly got into the car when it was time to go. They were wonderful to take in a puppy, they took beautiful care of her and I can now rest easy that she'll be eager to go back. Not a bad vacation, eh?