Tag Archives: Chow Chow

Happy Puppies and the End of Another Year


I suppose many people are doing the end of the year reflection. This wasn’t a bad year, in fact it was great. I added Eevee and Sahara to the family and everyone is getting along so well.

I remember when we got Scarlet as a companion for Buddy and that didn’t end well. Then, on a whim, we got Eevee and now she and Buddy are good friends. Who would have thought that when I got a dog for myself she would end up being friends with Buddy as well.

So what does my 2020 look like? I’m hoping it comes with a new job in a new house in a new city. Well old city. I’m moving back to Sulphur. Homesickness set in and I’m raring to move back.

We’re looking for a house with a large yard and either neighbors who don’t mind dogs or a house in a neighborhood that has a lot of dogs. Sulphur has a decent pupulation (not a typo) so I think my pups will fit in and maybe make some doggy friends.

I don’t really have much else to say. I was just popping in one last time before the new year. I hope you enjoyed the pictures of Eevee and Sahara.

Until next time…happy new year!

In the Walls

Last week, I came home to Buddy chewing on the baby gate bars and on the wall beside the utility room door. I dropped everything and went to see what was wrong. Despite my best efforts, he wouldn’t leave that spot alone, not even to go outside and he loves being outside.

I inspected the area and concluded there must be something between the walls and I hoped it wasn’t a snake. I wasn’t sure though. I tried pulling at the paneling, using a hammer…to no avail. Then a brilliant idea hit me. Get the Beagle to see if there really was something. So out I went to fetch Sahara.

I brought her in and showed her the spot that Buddy was chewing at. Sahara sniffed around and bayed. I had my answer. There was something in the wall. Yes, I know I can’t take a Chow’s and Beagle’s bark for it, but their senses are better than mine and I trust them.

I was already frustrated and sat on the floor to cry. I’d had a stressful day at work, bf got off late and wouldn’t be home for another hour, and since Mother lives an hour away, she couldn’t help either. Sweet Sahara climbed in my lap and tried to comfort me. Normally she’s crazy, but she was calm and stood still while I petted her and cried.

After I calmed down, I put my ear to the wall. I heard some scratching. Definitely not a snake. Maybe a baby raccoon? A mouse? Probably a mouse. When I tapped the wall the scratching stopped and the dogs lost interest in the spot. Eventually whatever it was moved on and Buddy and Sahara were ready to do something else so I kicked them outside. Buddy was happy to go. Sahara…not as much. She’s a homebody.

More happened in that story–not much though; this is just the Reader’s Digest version. The longer version would have simultaneous incidents: Sahara searching the kitchen for something, Buddy alternating between the wall and wanting to go into the main part of the house, me crying, me on the phone, me hoping it wasn’t a snake, me contemplating on selling my house and letting the new owners handle the raccoons, and many other things.

I still want to sell my house, but at the moment it isn’t feasible. The raccoons are driving me crazy so either I stay put or bite the bullet and put my house on the market. Neither sounds ideal. Perhaps after BF and I get married we’ll get something figured out. Until then, I get to put up with my noisy upstairs neighbors for a bit longer.

Not much of a entry. I do have some picture to share sometime in the future. They’re of Eevee and Sahara playing. I find the pictures precious.

Until next time, seek out and destroy…the food that is.

Full (Dog) House

Sorry I haven’t written much. I recently changed positions at work which means that I have less time to write blog posts, but here is one.

If someone told me a few years ago that I’d share my home with seven dogs, I would believe them. Dogs have always been in my life and I suspect they will always be in my life.

My dogs are what get me up in the morning even on days I’m depressed, especially on days I’m depressed. Fortunately since my medicine got adjusted, I’ve had fewer depressed and manic episodes.

Unfortunately, this medicine adjustment has restored me to my actual personality: feeling nothing and everything at once.

But I digress…

This week Buddy, Sahara, and I finally had a breakthrough and it all started with a hole in the fence. Buddy, Luna, and possibly Eevee found/dug a hole under the fence into the neighbor’s yard. Mind you, I have a privacy fence and the neighbors have a regular fence that has a four to five foot high hole in it. There’s about a six inch gap between these fences.

So the three of them were getting into the neighbor’s yard. On Sunday, while bf, a friend of mine, and I were tearing down a shed to get to the hole, Buddy slipped through. Around that time the neighbor’s dog was let into the backyard. I watched and held my breath as Buddy approached the other dog. I expected a fight, but it never happened. Buddy hip-checked the other dog, causing it to yowl in annoyance, and then trotted away probably laughing to himself. That was when I realized that Buddy isn’t dog aggressive. Buddy is just a jerk and has a twisted sense of humor. What a relief.

The shed got torn down and the fence got fixed.

On Monday, at my Mother’s insistence, I took Sahara outside while leaving Buddy loose (normally I tie him out). Buddy was curious about her at first, but never did his hip-check thing. Instead he went to the back fence and tried to figure out how to get on the other side of the fence. Another relief. Though they aren’t ready to play with each other, they don’t mind being in the same vicinity of each other. A peaceful household once again.

Yesterday, I watched the dogs roam around the backyard and I counted and recounted them. There were seven dogs, but it didn’t look like it. Even with seven dogs, my backyard is big enough for even more dogs to enjoy it. Not that I’m going to get another dog…yet. Part of me wants another hound…a Basset or another Beagle would be fun. Another part of me wants a larger dog a Great Pyrenees, a St. Bernard, or a German Shepherd. However, I would only get a large dog if something should happen to Buddy and Buddy isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Sahara’s baying used to get on my nerves, but now I’ve gotten used to it. It’s an acquired sound. I watched videos and read books about the sound, but nothing prepared me for how a Beagle actually sounded. It’s still annoying when I’m trying to talk on the phone, but that’s life with a hound.

Nothing else exciting is going on at the house. The Shih Tzus are doing well. Molly has gone into a stubborn phase and requires being carried inside rather than her actually walking. Haley’s allergies are acting up, but other than that she’s still as bratty and demanding as always. Clara is still cute and tries to use it to get out of doing what she doesn’t want to do.

All in all, life is pretty good right now. BF and I got raises which means the dogs can live an even more comfortable life than they already are living. They’ve trained us right.

Until next time, show your siblings and strangers that you mean them no harm by giving them a friendly hip check (then run away laughing as they yowl about the injustice of it all).

Seven Dog Life

Yesterday I felt like a bad dog mom. My dogs don’t get the attention they deserve. They’re normally kept in their bedroom to keep them out of the way (they’re royal terrors). I feel so bad that they’re not allowed to hang out on the couch with BF and me. Then I remember, I have a couple dogs (Luna and Sahara) that don’t know the meaning of chilling out on the couch. They prefer to get into things, steal stuff, and in general act like little heathens.

Living with seven dogs isn’t difficult. I look forward to the day when Buddy and Sahara can interact without a baby gate between them. I wish it happened yesterday, but I realize that Sahara has only been with us for about three weeks. I need to give it time.

I’ve come to the conclusion that when this pack of dogs has died off, I’m only going to keep three dogs at a time: a Shih Tzu, a Beagle, and some kind of terrier (probably a Yorkie). By that time, I hope that I’ll have a bigger house…well not necessarily bigger, I need a more open house on one floor. I keep saying that I’m going to wait five years, but can I wait that long? I probably should so I can pay off some bills…

This is a random post, I know. I’m sleepy and bored. I have an ad I need to design, but I don’t feel like creating it even though it is simply recreating a business card. I want to do everything else but what I’m supposed to.

I wish I worked from home, not that I’d get much done there either. At least I’d be comfortable and be able to nap as needed.

All seven of my dogs have found their voices…mealtime is noisy. I need to train them out of it. I tried. Really, I have. Luna just won’t be trained and if I can’t get her under control I can’t get Eevee or Sahara under control. If you haven’t guessed, Luna is my troublemaker.

I love her. She is a great dog. I just wish she would shut up. I have made headway with her though. When I pet her, instead of ruffling her fur, I pet her with long slow strokes that promote a calmer demeanor. It is amazing the change. I’ve even tried it on Sahara and it puts her right to sleep. Eevee is a bit trickier, but she’ll get there.

Eevee will be 9 months tomorrow. I feel like she should be older. It feels like I’ve had her forever. The same thing goes for each of my dogs, especially Haley who has been with me through a lot of the major and minor events of my life. Haley and I are a pair and have a closer bond with each other than any of the other dogs. The day I lose her will be the day I lose a part of myself.

But let’s not think about that. Haley is alive and well and annoying. Every evening, when BF and I are watching TV, she makes sure to bark us out for eating in front of her, for keeping her up past her bedtime, and sometimes just for the fun of it. She likes to talk back and we have plenty of arguments with her. I’m glad I don’t speak dog as I’m sure Haley has a colorful vocabulary.

So, I think I’ve reached the end of this random post. If you’ve read this far, props. If you understand this post, double props. If you live with a human that eats in front of you, but doesn’t share, my sympathy.

Until next time, the louder you bark the quicker the human responds.

Missed My Dogs

These past two weeks have been rough. I was filling in for one of my co-workers who went on vacation. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that some days–due to computer problems or people problems–I wasn’t getting home until midnight. My comment about “the newspaper never sleeps” was accurate these past couple weeks.

The result of this was I didn’t get to see my dogs very often. They get put to bed between nine and nine-thirty and with me coming in after that, I only got to Eevee (she sleeps in the living room in her crate). There were sometimes that I felt that I didn’t even know what they looked like anymore. It was a terrible feeling.

As for the dogs, they were cool with BF taking care of them. They like him and seemed to like him more after he was the only one to take care of them. Eevee even seems to love him more.

Fortunately, I hope all of that will change. Today my co-worker came back from vacation which means I get off at 5. I now will get home at a decent time and be able to take care of my precious puppers. I can’t wait!

It’s kind of sad to sum up my past two weeks in four paragraphs. I haven’t had time to write and my brain is so fried that I’m good to be writing this much.

Anyway, I just wanted to check in so you wouldn’t think I’ve fallen off the face of the world.

Until next time, make sure your humans remember what you look like…

The Makings of a Good Dog

What defines a good dog? Similarly what defines a bad dog? Is it all about perception from the owner? From others? I’ve been binge watching episodes and clips from It’s Me or the Dog and several of those dogs are “bad” dogs. But are they really bad dogs or products of their environment. Usually that’s the case. They’ve been (unknown to the owners/pet parents) conditioned to act a certain way.

Dog training is more about the training the human than training the dog. How to be a “pack leader” as some might say. Or, in my eyes, how to be a pet parent. Some people say that dogs are dogs and they are not children. I say that dogs (or cats, or other animals) and children are more similar than many think

That reminds me of a time I was talking to my friend who was a mom to a toddler. She would say something about raising her daughter and I would tell her that I experienced the same thing with Haley (she was a year and a half at that time). We talked about having to take things out of mouths, potty training, talking back (yes, Haley did and still does like to have the last word, Eevee is showing those signs as well), and in general just being a mommy. We discovered that being human parents and pet parents aren’t that dissimilar.

I don’t know if I would call any dog “bad” per se. Many people would probably disagree. I believe that dogs are a product of their environment and their genetics. I also believe that dogs become what their humans (knowingly or unknowingly) want them to become: a friend, a protector, something to alienate other people, a device to get dates, a fighter, a coward…well you get the drill. Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps there truly are bad dogs that no matter how well they’re treated they will always be bad dogs.

What makes a good dog? What are their traits? Does it depend on person to person? What do you think makes up a good dog?

For me a good dog is: a dog that listens but is not autonomous, a dog that knows how to dog, a dog that I can walk with without dragging me, similarly a dog that I can run with whether or not they’re dragging me, a dog that I can relax on the couch with, a dog that will kiss my tears away, a dog that will argue with me, a dog that makes me laugh, a dog that makes me feel like I’m not an ice queen (I’ve been called things like that and have called myself that), a dog that makes other people smile and brighten up their day a little. Wow I have a long list of things. I guess that’s less of what I want in a good dog and more of what kinds of dogs I have. Unless they’re annoying me (something they are prone to intentionally do), I love my dogs and I feel like I have a pack of good dogs. I might be biased.

They could use some work, but ultimately I love them no matter what. Except when Buddy slimes me…that is something I could do without.

Until next time…who’s a good dog? You’re a good dog!


This is a more somber post…well somber for me. For other people probably not so much.

Tuesday evening. I arrived at home as usual and went inside while talking to my mom on the phone. I took Eevee out to potty. Then I got off the phone to feed the adult dogs. Everything was routine. I scooped the food in the bowls and let the dogs eat.

Clara had pooed in her crate, so while everyone was eating, I took the towel outside to shake off. I wasn’t paying much attention until I was about to go back inside. I see a baby opossum squirming around. Oh no! Buddy had gotten a hold of a baby opossum. I had let Clara out and I quickly called her back in.

I went back outside and saw another possum and another one, then I saw the mom. All were struggling to live. I felt awful. Why had Buddy gone after them (he thought they were toys)? Why was she out during the day? How did she get in my backyard (I have a six foot privacy fence)? Other possums usually walk across the fence, or climb through the trees.

I went back inside and called my mom and told her. I cried. I didn’t know what to do. I called the animal shelter hoping to catch the control people before they left for the day. Wouldn’t you know they closed early. I tried another place and they said they’d get someone from their local branch to call me (spoiler alert, they didn’t call me that evening).

I called BF and told him what was going on. Then I waited for him to get back. The dogs were restless in the back. They were used to going outside to play.

The mom and babies were still hanging in there when BF got home. We loaded them up in a carrier, wrapped them in towels to keep them warm, and put them on the front porch while trying to figure out what to do with them. I had BF walk the yard checking for more babies. He didn’t find any, so I figured that was all she had.

I located a twenty-four hour vet in the city I work in (about twenty miles from me) and called them. They said they would take them. We loaded the family up in my vehicle and drove to the vet. GPS took us a round about way, but we made it there. By the time we got there, mom and one of the babies had passed away; they were bagged up. The other two were hanging in there. They were put on a heating pad and would be fed later (the babies were skinny and if I remember correctly so was mom). We left. They assured me that we’d done the right thing. Still, I felt guilty. I love possums, not as much as foxes, but still…

We arrived home after eight. The day had been exhausting. We relaxed the rest of the evening.

Wednesday evening, I went outside to find three more babies (dead) in various places in the yard. One of them had died right where mom had laid. The other two were farther back in the yard hidden in clover. Two of the babies had no marks on them. I figured they died of “natural” causes (probably hypothermia). The third baby had a scratch on its eye and no other marks. I guessed a cat or raccoon had scratched it, but it ultimately died of hypothermia. I disposed of the babies and when BF got home, we walked the yard again making sure there were only three babies. Thankfully that was it.

He researched about why possums would be out during the day. Either they were disturbed while sleeping or food was scarce and they had to venture out to find food. I’m thinking the latter due to the skinny state of the mom and babies as I have no clue what could have disturbed them other than the resident (annoying) raccoon family that has taken over the space above my porch.

On a lighter note, we thought we had found a dead squirrel, but upon closer inspecting we realized it was a chipmunk toy that had been abandoned to the elements. Eevee took delight in playing with her “new” toy. She tried taking it to Buddy so they could play, but he wasn’t interested so she played with it by herself.

Oh and Buddy and Eevee are getting along really well. He’s slowly learning not to chase her. She’s learning to stand still when Buddy tries the chase her. Needless to say, Buddy doesn’t find her as interesting anymore. I was hoping they would become friends, but it looks like they’ll settle in the same relationship as the rest of the dogs. All my dogs get along, but for the most part they go about their business outside content that they are not alone but equally content that they aren’t being bothered by each other.

I love my dogs.

Until next time, everything that squeaks is not always a toy.




Origins: Buddy

I wanted a bigger dog. I can’t remember why. I just knew I wanted one. Besides, I lived one block from a sketchy area and I lived alone. So I went in search of a bigger dog.

I thought about getting a Lab, but I quickly dismissed that. I have nothing against Labs, but a friend of the family had a Lab and he was annoying and was needy even for a Lab. I had a group of independent girls so a needy dog wouldn’t fit in.

I saw several dogs that had potential, even a couple that I contacted the people about. If I remember correctly, one dog was already adopted and the other the guy never got back to me (he texted me after I had gotten Buddy). So, I shrugged my shoulders and moved on.

Then I saw the heading “Free Chow.” A free Chow? That was unheard of. Chows, though not expensive, are not necessarily cheap, especially if you want one with good, non-aggressive bloodlines. Surely it wasn’t going to be available. I contacted her anyway. The dog was available and we arranged a time to pick him up.

A bit later, I got a text from her telling me that I had to pick up the dog that day or her husband was going to take him to the pound the next day. There was nothing wrong with him, he was just a handful for the woman’s sister and she couldn’t keep him anymore and gave it to the woman to find a home for. I grabbed Haley and we made the hour drive to the City.

His name was Ferguson. Haley didn’t seem particularly interested in him and he sniffed at her, but didn’t find her particularly interesting. That was a good sign. It showed that there was no fear or aggression. I agreed to take him, got him in my car, and then we drove back to my house.

When I got the dogs out of the car, I didn’t grab his leash expecting him to follow me. He didn’t. He took off down the street and an hour long search later, a lady came by and told me where he was. I retrieved my dog and took him home.

I don’t recall what Luna, Nia, and Molly reacted to him. However, Clara didn’t like him. She was the baby (and the smallest) of the family and here I was bringing in this year old dog. She ignored him for the first couple weeks.

I’ll admit that for the first few days I was petrified of Buddy (he got that name because I couldn’t think of anything else to name him). I had grown up being told how mean Chows were. They were sweet for the first two years and then became mean to anyone who wasn’t their chosen person. I hesitated to touch him, let alone grab his collar.

Then I told myself that this was my dog and he needed to learn to respect me. When I made up my mind, I learned that Buddy had a sweet disposition. He wasn’t aggressive to most people though he wasn’t fond of my sketchy neighbors (they may or may not have been drug dealers). He had a soft spot for children and also had a sense of humor, kicking dirt on people to mark his territory (or just for the fun of it).

My mom and dad were cautious around him at first. My mom still isn’t 100% trusting of him, but she had a bad experience with a Chow mix we had when I was a child. As for my dad, he fell in love with Buddy. He realized that a properly socialized Chow is not the menacing dog that people remembered from their childhood. He was also glad that I had gotten Buddy because he didn’t like the idea that I lived alone in my big house.

When I’d sit at my computer, Buddy would lay nearby, keeping himself between me and the door. I felt safe with Buddy. However, I couldn’t take him outside off leash, he’d take off and I’d have to run him down.

It’s been almost three years since I brought Buddy home and I can’t imagine life without him. He annoys me sometimes, but he’s my dog. He allows me to do almost anything to him. I can take his food bowl away from him, take things out of his mouth, pet his paws, and many other things. The only thing I can’t get him to do is take a flea and tick pill. He just won’t eat it, or anything not in his usual diet. I call him a food snob.

BF and Buddy get along well too. Though Buddy isn’t as loyal to him as he is to me, he does care about BF which is wonderful and good news to me.

Speaking of that, whenever I would meet a potential guy, I’d always introduce them to Buddy first. If Buddy seemed to like them, I’d give them a chance. There were some guys he wasn’t fond of (ie friends of the sketchy neighbor who also may or may not be drug dealers/users) and I gradually stopped hanging out with them. Not that I really enjoyed hanging out with them, they were just people to talk to. But I digress.

I thought about breeding Buddy, but I didn’t want the hassle (and couldn’t afford the shots, testing to make sure they didn’t have any diseases, socializing puppies, etc). So I got Buddy fixed.

I was told that he’d calm down. He didn’t. I think he has more energy than he did before he got fixed. It’s a blessing and a curse…more curse than blessing. Though the girls think it is a curse.

Yesterday, Buddy got to meet the new puppy without a gate between them. He was gentle with her, sniffing her and allowing her to sniff his face. She wagged her tail at him. He got a little rough in play, but I backed him off telling him to play gently. I think that with a few more interactions, Eevee and Buddy might become best friends. At least I hope.

If I could change one thing about Buddy, it is his drooling. I could do without the drooling. He’s slimed So. Many. Clothes. Obviously his slime is worse than his bite.

Sorry this entry was a bit more all over the place than my others. I’m at work and am writing this between projects.

Anyway, until next time use someone’s clothes to wipe your mouth and not a napkin.


Yesterday…My Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday. I turned 32 years old. It was a fun day of laughter, eating, shopping, and in general hanging with my family and my boyfriend. That’s right, I have a boyfriend. I finally freed myself of my ex-husband and I’m starting a new life.

Concerning my health, I finally got the answers I was seeking for, though it wasn’t the answers that I anticipated. I found out that all of my panic/anxiety attacks, collapsing, confusion, and many other symptoms stemmed from Bipolar Disorder. I had a feeling that I was bipolar, but I was never sure and said that “I suffer from Depression and I have diagnosed bipolar.” Well now it’s diagnosed.

So now what? Well I just continue my life and keep myself on a routine and all should go well. I know that I’ll have the occasional relapse, but that’s to be expected.

You’re probably wondering about the dogs. They’re all great. Haley is having some problems with her allergies, but that happens every summer. I just make sure I give her some allergy medicine every day or so. Other than that, she’s still the demanding brat that she’s always been.

Molly, Clara, and Luna are the same: bratty, playful, wild and loving.  They can’t get enough attention, especially Molly. She craves attention, begs for it, seeks it out. Typical Molly, but that’s okay.

Buddy is his usual self, easy-going and sometimes aloof. He loves being outside and hates to come in, even though it is sometimes in the upper nineties. Most of the time I leave him outside, but sometimes, if it is really hot, I make him come in the house. He grumbles some, but overall he obeys.

There’s a new addition to the family. Her name is Scarlette. She’s a Blue Heeler mix. The mix is probably American Pit Bull Terrier. When she smiles, she looks like a happy Pit Bull. Whatever she is, I love her even though she is crazy and gets jealous if I’m paying attention to her brother or sisters.

Sometime over the next couple years I’m going to get a Pomeranian or a pair of them. I know, what am I supposed to do with seven or eight dogs. I haven’t decided, but by then I’ll have it all figured out. Or at least I hope. I just need to save up the money and with no job, it might take a while. I guess I’ll have to start making crafts and selling them.

Anyway, that’s the Reader’s Digest version of what’s been going on for the past eight months. As always, I’m going to try to write more often, but we’ll see how that turns out.

Well, I’m off to go do…something…I don’t know what.

Just remember, make sure your human gives you as much attention as you demand, and attention only stops when you make the decision.

Boring Update

I don’t have much to say, but I knew it was time to write. I’ve been out of it, probably due to being unwell and a touch of depression. However, the biggest problem is I’ve been battling fleas. I’ve been fortunate enough that my infestation hasn’t been as bad as others’ (a neighbor told me that her grandchildren can’t even go in the backyard due to all of the fleas), but it’s annoying.

Good news, I’m on the verge of getting rid of the little vampires from my home once and for all. My intention this year is to keep up with flea treatment even after the fleas are gone, even on into the winter. Make them see that my home is not to be messed with.

Then there’s the mice. Outside of parasites like fleas and tick, I rarely declare war on another living creature, let alone another mammal. I’ve declared war on the mice. They are kind enough not to chew on any wires (knock on wood), but they have been known to make their home in inappropriate places–the shelf that my computer speakers are on and the paper tray of my printer. They climb up my stove and poop on my counters. After evading the live trap that I set out, I realized that the only way to get rid of these nuisances is to kill them. I hate killing mice, but they have driven me to this extreme.

As for the dogs, they’re wonderful. I recently moved Buddy’s crate to the utility room so he can stay in the same room as his sisters and that was the best thing I have ever done for Buddy. Prior to the move, he would wake up early in the morning crying because he was lonely. Now, he and the girls sleep in and I’m the one that has to drag them out of bed rather than the other way around. I’ve also noticed that the girls seem to enjoy him more now.

There’s a wonderful peace that has settled on my little mixed species family. Everything goes smoothly now. I can’t complain. I wouldn’t say my life is perfect in society’s sense, but as far as I’m concerned, my life is fairly perfect right.

Now if only I can rid myself of the fleas and mice…

So, that’s what I’ve been up to. What has everyone else been doing? Hope all is going well with you and yours.

Until next time, knock on some wood for me…