Hot Dogs.

It's hot…. and bit by bit we are getting into summer mode.

Kerry gets into summer mode

First it began by leaving the bathroom window open at night.  Next the over-quilt on the bed was washed, folded neatly and stored in the wardrobe.  Then the duvet was packed away.  One by one the dogs began sleeping under the bed, under the chest of drawers or on the cool floor by the bed.  They only come onto the bed now for a goodnight cuddle, but quickly hop off and find somewhere cooler to sleep.  I have no complaints, I get to stretch out delightfully under my single sheet and drift off to the sound of gypsy guitars wafted in on a slightly cooler night-breeze.  Not that I ever get a full night's sleep during the summer months.  With the window open every bang or cat yowl sets the dogs off.  Kerry starts the barking first, followed by Candy doing her lunatic kangaroo hopping and finally Looki joins in with his deep booming bark.  A bark that is much too big for his little body.

Speaking of his body….

Just lately, and I think it may be the heat too, he has become noticeably more aggressive towards some male dogs.  Generally I have found him to be easy-going enough with all the dogs we meet on our walks, but have just noticed this slight change in his behaviour over the past two weeks.  So I did a bit of reading:  first of all I am making efforts to reestablish my place as pack leader, just in case he is getting a bit too big for his little Westie boots.  He has to sit and stay now more often, for example for food and when I go up the stairs.  He is very good really, so I don’t think that is the problem.  Perhaps there is a bitch in season somewhere, perhaps he is feeling sexually frustrated, perhaps he is too hot, perhaps he is just getting older and turning into a grumpy old man.  Whatever the reason, I finally googled "castration for the older dog" and have discovered that though it may only reduce his ardour and aggression it will certainly be beneficial for his testicular/prostate situation in later years.  So I spoke to one of our lovely vets and she thought it a good idea too, especially as he is now 9 years old and if I leave it too late there will of course be more risk involved in the actual operation. 

Looki looking less than aggressive -  cooling down on the tiles

So I took the plunge and he is booked in for his op on the 20^th of July.  I was nearly in tears when I left the vets.  Looki has not yet twigged and whenever I look into his lovely brown eyes this joke keeps running through my brain.

This is one of my all-time favourite jokes from that Master of the Far-Side, Gary Larson

And during the day the dogs are visibly hotter.  They pant a lot more and even though we go for our walk early in the morning when it is at its coolest, they drag on the way home and flop onto the cool tile floor the minute we step through the front gate.  Their water bowl has become their constant companion and they lie around a lot more during the day…. more than usual.  These dogs are not exactly Border Collies but I do expect a little bit of activity.

They lie around all over the place

When they venture into the garden they seem very relieved to come back inside again and they seek out the strangest (coolest) little corners of the house.  The couch and the cushions are largely ignored.  Looki's favourite spot is beneath the second couch on the bare tiles, all you can see is his nose and bristly moustache sticking out sometimes, though he does do a bit of fake snoring if he thinks he is being neglected.

This afternoon I was on the couch, which is always my personal favourite place of choice winter or summer, reading the paper and Kerry was under the fireplace, a very nice cool cave where they all take turns, Looki was under his couch and Candy was wedged between the floor cushion, the wall column, the back wall and the tv.  It must have been cool, but I did not think she looked that comfy.

under the fireplace

As well as being hot it is also very dusty and so I decided it was time to give them all a bath.  Well, it was Looki who started it all off as he had had a runny bottom and was a bit messy around his rear-end as well as being dusty.  I started the shower.  Usually they all come running to watch the crazy lady douse herself with water.  They all have their places in the bathroom too.  Looki on the bath mat, Candy under the sink on the dog towel and Kerry, always erring on the side of caution under the chest of drawers….er…..  just outside the bathroom door.  This day they must have sensed something and I had to drag Looki up the stairs and into the bathroom.  Candy followed us and I closed the door.

They all behave as if I am dragging them into an acid bath instead of nice, mildly warm water, where they will get their bodies soaked and then rubbed and stroked and generally taken care of.  They get their little furry bottoms washed and Looki even gets his balls rubbed.  Though the next time may well be the last time for that pleasure. 

So Looki stands there, trying to edge away the whole time.  I wet him thoroughly and he stands with his head hanging down with sufferance written in the downward tilt of his ears.  Dirt flows off him and then I reach for his own, specially medicated shampoo, as he is slightly prone to Westie skin.  I lather him up, clean his bum and rub his balls.  He stares at the drain hole looking as if he wishes it would suck him away from this terrible place.  It is only a five minute affair, I rinse him and then I put the shower-head down and I tell him to have a good shake.  He does not really need to be bidden.  Then it is frenetic rubbing along the bathmat and the towels I have lined up on the floor, plus I rub him dry from the top.  From there he is let out of the bathroom to rub at will, along the bedroom carpet, around the skirt of the bed, along the tiled floor, which must hurt and can't dry very much.  Then I close the bathroom door again just as Candy thinks she is going to make her escape. 

Same scenario for dog number two minus the balls and I'm exhausted.  Kerry is nowhere to be seen so I call it a day.  Besides my back is killing me.  I have never found a really comfortable position for washing dogs.  Which is probably why I don't do it as often as I should.  Though I sort of hold to the Geldof notion of natural oils, especially for dogs.  In fact, only for dogs.

It was two days later that I finally had an opening in my busy schedule; remember the gardening, home-improvements and legalisation of said home.  In addition I have also enrolled for the summer onto a language exchange programme.  It's very jolly actually and I am already getting to know a whole new swathe of people who inhabit these same few square miles as I do. 

But I digress, something I do regularly and with glee.

Two days later I finally got round to bathing Kerry.  It was high time as she has been even more prone to rolling in the yellow sand in the park than usual…it must be the heat.  So I had been walking two lovely sparkling white dogs and one bright yellow one.  She looked even more yellow because the other two were so clean.

I turned on the shower and organized towels and shampoo and then went on the hunt for Kerry.  She hid.  I managed to entice her upstairs eventually with a biscuit, but she craftily managed to get herself wedged under the bathroom shelves.  Not only was she wedged, but Candy, who one never thinks has any sort of feelings towards her sister as she is a rather self indulgent kind of creature, crept under the shelves with her and curled herself around Kerry so that I could not drag the two of them out.  She even put her little head over Kerry's back and looked at me as if to say "you're not pouring acid over my sister too".

I had to laugh of course, before I manfully told Candy to leave the room and then pretended I was not looking so that Kerry, thinking it was safe, crept out from her safe place too, only to be nabbed by me and  steered towards the water.  I managed to give her a lovely bath and could literally see the whole park streaming off her fur when I rinsed her.  Once washed she went through the whole drying ritual and then got her biscuit.

Mind you I don't really know why I bother as now they all have filthy, sticky moustaches again.  Really filthy!  I think they do it on purpose. They must wipe their little Westie faces in dark mud just to get that clean feel off them.  I wouldn't mind except for the fact that they all, given the chance, love to lick me full on the mouth!  I don’t give them opportunity very often, though Candy, who has the longest tongue you ever saw has got me right on the smacker once or twice. Mind you she usually has to pin me onto the couch first, something she is quite happy to do.

Fancy that, I got through a whole blog without mentioning that I finally managed to clear the back-log of shredding and produced 21 large buckets of mulch/compost.  Oh fancy that, I just managed to get it in after all.  Happy summer!

Lovely Looki, oblivious to his impending doom!