My Most Sensitive Child

It's a rather dreary morning - soggy and windy, overcast, just generally blah. And my faithful companion is at my feet - or heels - anywhere I wander or sit today. Dad's at a golf tourney, Lexi's at work...which just leaves Mom to play with. But Mom isn't straying far from the restrooms today, so a hike is definitely out. Wanna see the face that's greeting my every move today?

Now who could resist that? She's lain on my foot, leaned on my knee, and generally hung around me all morning trying to make me feel better. What's more, she did the same for Will last night when he wasn't feeling well. Such a sweetie! 

She won. I gave her a cookie :)

Watch me...

Storm's a good dog. She's been easy to train and very skillful at almost every task we've set before her...except "watch me." She'll do anything you ask, follow any of her known commands almost without thinking, but when you say "watch me," she looks away. In other words, she'll act on your commands, but only because she chooses to, not because you want her to do whatever it is.
She's brilliant, don't get me wrong. This dog can tell time and knows just how to charm that extra cookie out of her loving parents. But she only looks you in the eye when she wants something, not when you want something from her.



Top of the list this summer in her training is "watch me." The "here" command is good...unless she's distracted by a really interesting smell...

The Trouble with Spring

The little white dots are petals from our Bradford Pear. It's a stinky tree but gorgeous. When the blossoms fall the yard is covered in what looks like the waste from an industrial hole punch.
The big poofs? Those are Storm shed. I had to scrub her back end and feet and give her a thorough brushing just to allow her back into the house. 

The trouble with spring is that she's full of energy and excitement and can hardly behave herself. She was out for a few minutes and took off into the woods to chase a frog or something she imagined she heard or saw - maybe a squirrel, who knows. I called her back right quickly, but she came back through the mud and a puddle or two...you know, gotta check out everything to make sure it didn't get into anything valuable, like her grass or something. 

The mud is usually not an issue. She's a pretty fastidious dog and doesn't generally play in dirty places. But she has no concept of the other dangers she picks up and brings in from the weedy edge of the woods: poison ivy. Will is extremely allergic and protects himself with a full coverall whenever he has to work in the brush out there, but she trots merrily through it whenever she's "on the hunt" and brings it in on her fur...along with a few chiggers when the weather gets really nice out in the summer. Unfortunately, in the spring the weather isn't quite warm enough to hose her down in the evening and get her dry before sundown.

So she wasn't happy about getting a rough scrubdown with a wet, soapy towel. I wasn't happy about the towel.  ;)