Monday, February 9, 2009


Last Friday, Rosie went to the vet for her shot update. She passed the test for Lyme disease and heartworm-yay- and made it through all the poking and prodding without fainting. What? She's scared modest. But all her scrooching, shrinking and curling her tail down didn't make her 65 pounds disappear.

However, the biggest accomplishment was that she made it there and back without throwing up. It's a five minute ride, but this dog starts drooling as soon as she's in the van, and has always gotten sick, usually just as I stop to let her out. She even lay down on the seat on the way home.

Let's see if I can get a picture in here without breaking something. This is what Rosie looked like at 8 weeks old. Note the big feet- Hmm, I don't know what I did to get this underlined.

And here she is now- we gave up and just slipcovered the furniture.

She does have her own bed, it's 53" by 40" and fleece topped, but that's in the kitchen. That chest got moved, by the way, to make room for Wii playing, so now it's in the corner where she uses it to check outside the windows for any action up and down the road. We live in the country so there's not a lot.

Rosie is a big change from the chow/shepherd mix we had for 13 years, who actually came when we called her! We need to work on that. We trained Lizzie by jingling keys when we fed her, so later, if she wasn't "hearing" our calls, she would come to a jingling sound. Ameranth got her puppy Anna about 6 weeks before we got Rosie, and Anna was afraid of the keys, so we never got that association going. I really wish we had, although I suppose we could still try now.

We used to make fun of my parent's dog, who got a biscuit when she went out and when she came in. When we visited, Lizzie expected the same treatment, and she knew it was just at Grandma's house that it worked. However, we used the biscuit for reward for coming in for Rosie, and she promptly plops her rump down in front of the jar each time she come inside. On the rare occasions we forget, she picks herself up and sits again with an audible smack as a reminder.

Well, that was more than I planned. This is what happens when you don't have grandchildren to talk about. Yet. Hope springs eternal.

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