Happy 2nd Birthday, Remy!

Remy - 2 Years - Newport, Oregon (29 Sept. 2014)

On September 29, 2014 Remy turned two years old. He was almost my birthday puppy -- Remy's mama began delivering pups on September 28, 2012 and I had my fingers crossed for a birthday puppy. Alas, the whelping went on into the wee hours of the next morning and that is when Remy came into the world. So we share a great "24 hours" of birthday. This year we spent our birthday weekend in the coastal port town of Newport, Oregon in an apartment that overlooked the harbor, complete with NOAA ships, fishing boats and dozens of noisy sea lions on the rocks to watch (and listen to 24/7).

Remy - 2 Years - Newport, Oregon (29 Sept. 2014)

While being the ripe young age of two might signify adulthood with many other dogs, Griffs maintain at least some of their gonzo puppy energy and attitude well after two. It's just part of their charm. Remy is no exception. He still has that teenage-puppy joie de vivre, that unbridled enthusiasm for all things and a playful spirit that, I hope, will never leave him.

In terms of the big things, though, he really has matured into a nice, adult dog. (Note: I am only half-jokingly knocking on wood as I type this, because making the following types of statements in the past has seemed to almost invite trouble...)

I'm pleased to report that, at this point in his young life, Remy is pretty darned trustworthy. He doesn't counter surf (thank heavens). He doesn't mess up the furniture (though I do believe, based on the mysteriously rumpled afghan and warm dent in the pillow, that he occasionally gets up on the "invitation only" sofa while we're gone...).

He no longer chews on shoes. We made an early attempt (10 mos. old) at giving him freedom to roam about the house while we were gone for short periods. We had left him inside while we were out working in the garden or on a short trip to the store and he managed to stay out of trouble, so we began to trust him. Let is suffice to say, with the humans having lost the heels and insoles on several favorite pairs of shoes and Remy having major abdominal surgery to remove an 18" long rope toy that was lodged in his gut (a discarded rope toy he pulled from a wastebasket I might add), we decided he wasn't ready for that level of responsibility.  Remy spent a few more months being crated every time we left the house.

Eventually we mustered up the courage to try again for longer and longer periods and, I'm happy to report, he has proven himself to be very trustworthy. No more chewed shoes or missing toys. No evidence of wastebasket surfing either. He doesn't like it when we go without him, I'm sure, but he gets it. When we start putting on our shoes he gets all waggly and hopeful. Then we turn on the music or the TV and puts on his best hang-dog look, walks over to the rug and lies down, usually with a big sigh. And every time we come home he greets us with that full body wag and look of pure joy.

He is learning patience. He waits for the "go" sign before rushing out the door (usually) and before diving into his food bowl (always). He doesn't jump on people (ok, there's the occasional overly-enthusiastic greeting, but he seems to know the difference between people he can jump on and people who would be horrified by such an act).  He treats my 88-year-old mother like the queen of the house. While he bounds through rooms on window deer patrol, at times running into us and stepping on our feet, with Mom he slows down and gives her space. And when she's home alone with the dogs, Kirby keeps watch by the door while Remy lays at her feet like a protector.

There's more to work on, for sure. Like consistent recall (particularly at the beach). But more on that later.  In honor of Remy's second birthday, I just want to express how very proud I am of the wonderful, responsible dog he is growing up to be!

Happy 8th Birthday, Kirby!

I can't believe our scruffy little guy is eight years old!

He's spent his life around Wirehaired Pointing Griffons and despite being 1/3 the size, I believe he thinks he is one. (He even points.) As a pup he relentlessly pestered our adult Griff, Baxter; was crushed (as we all were) when Bax passed away; then got the other end of the golden rule/dog karma when we introduced our Griff puppy, Remy, to the household a year and a half ago. Despite his diminutive size, he manages to hold his own with the big dogs. We love you, Kirby!

Baxter's 13th Birthday

Still handsome.

Happy 5th Birthday, Kirby!

Last Thursday was Kirby's 5th birthday. I can't quite believe it. Five years old. I still think of him as "the puppy" most of the time.

In all honesty, we can't be quite certain exactly when Kirby was born, as he was pretty much feral at the time, or so we've been told. July 7th-ish was the veterinarian's best guess based on his puppy-to-adult teeth progression.

All we know is that somewhere, on a farm near Red Bluff, California, Kirby and his litter-mates were born to a sweet, collie-shepherd-looking mother who obviously wasn't getting much attention from her "owners." At some point the litter of pups was discovered, rounded up and brought into the shelter along with Mom (Meg) and Grandma.

While it would have been better if Meg had been spayed and paid attention to by her original human family, she did manage to have some adorable puppies  (but aren't they all, really?) and Mom, Grandma and all the pups eventually were adopted. Whew for happy endings there.

As you know from reading this blog, it took a while to get the wildness out of Kirby, especially when it came to being comfortable around strangers. But through a lot of love and reassurance, he has grown into a cheerful, friendly, playful, at times impish, and always sweet little dog. Yes, he still runs under the sofa when he hears a loud noise and he barks like crazy when someone comes to the door, but that's all pretty normal for a fast-twitch-response little dog like Kirby.

As I sit here at my desk, Kirby is curled up comfortably at my feet -- his usual spot. And it's weird to think how very different his life might have been if he and his siblings hadn't been rounded up and brought into the shelter when they were still young enough to adapt well to life with humans.  I also sometimes wonder about the rest of his litter-mates.  I bet they are adorable. I hope they are happy and well cared-for. I kept in touch with the shelter for a while, and, surprisingly, there was talk of a "Meg-puppy" reunion at some point, but apparently the person working at the shelter who took a liking to that particular litter and cared enough to entertain the idea, either left or decided not to respond to email anymore. He had a pretty stressful and thankless job at times, I'm sure, with far too many dogs to just get adopted let alone schedule reunions for.

In any case, we are delighted to have Kirby in our family. And even though Baxter still seems a bit annoyed by Kirby's unrelenting enthusiasm at times, he seems to enjoy Kirby's companionship as well. Baxter has been a good teacher and Kirby has benefited greatly from Baxter's calm, well-mannered demeanor.

So they both got extra biscuits to celebrate Kirby's special day, and Kirby had the annual photo session with Jamie, which resulted in this adorable shot. I can't tell you how often I see that little crescent of white in Kirby's eye, usually when he's about to challenge me to a game of tug-o-war or suggesting to me that I really, really, really ought to give him a piece of whatever I'm eating. I'm charmed.

Happy 5th Birthday, Kirby, and many more!

Happy 7th Birthday Paco!

Paco, a long time canine friend of this blog, Ashland dog park playmate and Kirby look-alike is celebrating his 7th birthday today.

Baxter, Kirby and the Scruffy Dog family wish Paco a rip-roaring, treat-laden, fun-filled day. Wish we could be there to help celebrate with a few laps around the dog park!

Happy 3rd Birthday, Kirby!

Bring on the squeaky toys...for today we celebrate Kirby's third birthday! I say we celebrate it because we don't really know exactly when Kirby was born. Apparently the folks who rounded him up on the farm somewhere in Northern California didn't know how long that litter of puppies had been running around before they brought them in. When we adopted him, the folks at the shelter thought he was a wee lad of 10 weeks or so. His vet subsequently told us that, based on his teeth, he was probably a few weeks older than we thought. We counted back appropriately and decided 7/7 was a mighty fine day for a birthday.

So here's to Kirby -- Happy 3rd!

Happy 10th Birthday, Baxter!

It's hard to believe that today is Baxter's 10th birthday. It doesn't seem possible that nearly a decade has gone by since we fell in love with that adorable, scruffy puppy. And yet, Baxter is such an integral part of our family, it's hard to remember what life was like before he was around!

I've said this so often, but Baxter really is the sweetest dog I have ever known. I've loved all our dogs and quite a number of other peoples' dogs as well. But Baxter is special in a way that people only understand when they get to know him. I've seen family members and friends raise their eyebrows when we talk about him that way. I understand. Everyone's dog is special to them. But I've also seen those same family members and friends spend some time with Baxter and end up saying the same things to other people. He's a unique individual, an incredibly soulful, sweet, trustworthy, goofy, loving and intuitive dog. He charms people. He gets along with everybody and nearly every dog. Ok, he likes to chase cats, but he never hurts them when he catches them. (He is, after all, a dog.) But he's just, well, special.

In honor of Baxter's special day, we took the dogs to bigger dogpark a ways from where we live. While we have a nice dogpark here, we used the excuse of a lovely, sunny day to get a little change of scenery. Baxter romped and wrestled with a very cute, scruffy Airedale, then proceeded to roll in the mud and get totally filthy from head to toe. He had a great time. Kirby spent his time trying to befriend a little dachsund who didn't want anything to do with him. But he got in a bit of romping and wrestling as well. We hadn't really planned on giving the dogs baths today, but alas... At least both Baxter and Kirby smell good now!

We topped off the day by giving them each an antler to chew on and a helping of Baxter's favorite soft dog food: Grammy's Pot Pie . It was gone in about 15 seconds. Better than cake. For a dog anyway!

Happy 10th Birthday, Baxter...and MANY more!!!