This week I got to spend time with Porter- all without leaving the comfort of my office or my chair. Not that spending time in Napa is a hardship. It's just that I can't always leave my job, especially considering I only have 2 vacation days left until May 2011 when my vacation time starts over again.
So, instead of flying to Oakland, renting a car, risking my life driving in rush hour traffic on a Friday afternoon, all I had to do was click on a website and watch Porter, via web cam, as he ran around the playground at the Ruff Hotel in Napa. That's right. It's a doggy daycare, designed for those dog owners who want their dog to be able to spend quality time with other dogs in a supervised setting.
Jason said Porter now requires more running around time during the day so that he's not an unmanageable nightmare when he and Sarah come home at night (I'm paraphrasing, of course, but that's the general idea). I felt a bit smug after he told me that because I like to think in some small way I'm responsible for Porter's new exercise regimen and it goes back to all the walks we took when I was there. I'm sure that's not the case and, more likely, it's because he's a growing boy that just needs more exercise.
Now, he gets to spend one day a week at the Ruff Hotel, running to his heart's content with the rest of the pack and I get to watch all of his escapades via web cam.
It wasn't difficult for me to pick Porter out of the pack. He was the big, lumbering dog that was constantly terrorizing the other more laid back dogs, trying to incite them to get up and play with him. I swear, that dog was constantly in motion the entire time I watched him. He didn't stop for a minute.
I got an email from Jason this past Thursday, to let me know I could tune in for further adventures of Porter that day. I brought up the web cam and there he was again. This time, he was running with two other Labs and it made me chuckle to think that there are even cliques at a doggy daycare.
So now, thanks to the Internet, I'll be able to get my weekly Porter fix. And the best part? I won't even get drool on my shoes.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Last Days in Napa
I'm writing this post a week to the day since I got home from my dog-sitting adventures. Upon my return home, every day life caught up with me again and I couldn't find the time to write about my last couple of days at Jason and Sarah's until now.
Thursday was my last day with Porter as his dog-sitter and we spent it in our typical fashion - breakfast, dog park, work, lunch, dog park, work, then dinner. Jason and Sarah were due to arrive home that evening and Porter and I had a little clean up to do around the house. After dinner, we settled in for a quiet evening of TV (I finally finished season three of "Dexter") and a lot of ball throwing. Porter finally settled on the floor and I fell asleep on the couch as we waited for "mom and dad" to get home. They arrived close to midnight and Porter was immediately up and around and ready to play the minute they walked in the door. Jason and Sarah looked well rested after their Hawaii adventures and we visited for just a little bit before we all turned in for the night.
Friday morning I was up early as usual but since Porter's kennel resides in Jason and Sarah's room (and they were still sleeping) I didn't feel comfortable with going in to let him out and instead, ate my solitary breakfast and made a pot of coffee while I waited for them to get up. It wasn't long before they were both up and around and Porter bounded over to me and gave me a big lick on the hand. Jason let him out into the backyard and followed him outside to inspect whatever damage Porter might have inflicted on the yard in their absence. I took my coffee outside too and, as Jason walked around his yard, I felt as nervous as a renter trying to get their security deposit back from the landlord after a final inspection of the apartment. Had I swept enough of the excess dirt on the patio from Porter's first digging foray so Jason wouldn't notice? Had I filled in the various small holes in the dirt he had created? Had I policed up all Porter's little "gifts" that I might have missed during the week?
I guess I passed the inspection without too many demerits and we decided to head up to Alston for Porter's morning walk. Porter was overjoyed to have his 'parents' back and ran around in his usual bear-like lumbering way. We did two laps before getting back into the car and heading home. I puttered around with some work while Jason and Sarah took to their laptops.
It looked to be another beautiful Napa day and we decided to head downtown to the Bounty Hunter for a "Pony Express" lunch. We decided to take Porter with us, since the Bounty Hunter has some nice outside cafe tables and it's very dog friendly. I had the pleasure of sitting in the back seat with Porter and I felt a bit like a grandma sitting in the back seat with the baby in the car seat. He would lean over occasionally and give me a big lick on the face, slobbering all over my brand new cardigan I bought in Yountville the day before (and paid way too much for - but hey, it was my reward to myself for making it through the week). We settled at the cafe table at the Bounty Hunter and Porter settled on the ground beside Jason as we ate and behaved himself quite well until a small group of Japanese tourists decided to wake him up by coming over to the table to look at him like he was a tourist attraction. Perhaps they mistook him for a hairy Godzilla.
After an excellent lunch we decided to do a little wine tasting and Sarah Googled "Dog Friendly Wineries" on her Droid. We headed over to the Silverado Trail and up to William Hill Estate winery. Tastings are by appointment only but we got lucky and arrived to a nearly empty parking lot and a friendly tasting room attendant (for lack of a better word) who set us up outside on the Adirondack chairs for a couple of different wine flights. The view of the Silverado Bench was absolutely spectacular. Jason tied Porter to a very strong, shady tree and he enjoyed his own bowl of water while we tasted some great wine. The sun was warm, the wine was good and all was right with the world.
After leaving William Hill Estate we headed over to another dog-friendly winery, Alpha Omega, in Rutherford on Highway 29. Sarah said they had taken Porter there when he was a puppy for one of his first "socialization" outings. The grounds were nice with a huge covered patio, fountains, and a large grassy area with a picnic table where we parked ourselves for another tasting. The woman who served us was obviously a dog person, as she carried dog treats in her pocket. Porter was immediately in love as she fed him a couple of treats while pouring us our wine. Porter spent a lot of time on the ground near my feet and the woman remarked ' oh look, he loves his grandma.' I was quick to correct her that I was "nana" not "grandma"and she laughed. "I'm a nana too," she said, as she gave Porter another biscuit. The sun was behind the hills as we headed home for a casual dinner of spaghetti and salad. I had my suitcases to pack (I'm not a last minute packer - I like to be ready in advance) and Porter, tired from the days' adventures was in a pretty mellow mood.
Thursday was my last day with Porter as his dog-sitter and we spent it in our typical fashion - breakfast, dog park, work, lunch, dog park, work, then dinner. Jason and Sarah were due to arrive home that evening and Porter and I had a little clean up to do around the house. After dinner, we settled in for a quiet evening of TV (I finally finished season three of "Dexter") and a lot of ball throwing. Porter finally settled on the floor and I fell asleep on the couch as we waited for "mom and dad" to get home. They arrived close to midnight and Porter was immediately up and around and ready to play the minute they walked in the door. Jason and Sarah looked well rested after their Hawaii adventures and we visited for just a little bit before we all turned in for the night.
Friday morning I was up early as usual but since Porter's kennel resides in Jason and Sarah's room (and they were still sleeping) I didn't feel comfortable with going in to let him out and instead, ate my solitary breakfast and made a pot of coffee while I waited for them to get up. It wasn't long before they were both up and around and Porter bounded over to me and gave me a big lick on the hand. Jason let him out into the backyard and followed him outside to inspect whatever damage Porter might have inflicted on the yard in their absence. I took my coffee outside too and, as Jason walked around his yard, I felt as nervous as a renter trying to get their security deposit back from the landlord after a final inspection of the apartment. Had I swept enough of the excess dirt on the patio from Porter's first digging foray so Jason wouldn't notice? Had I filled in the various small holes in the dirt he had created? Had I policed up all Porter's little "gifts" that I might have missed during the week?
I guess I passed the inspection without too many demerits and we decided to head up to Alston for Porter's morning walk. Porter was overjoyed to have his 'parents' back and ran around in his usual bear-like lumbering way. We did two laps before getting back into the car and heading home. I puttered around with some work while Jason and Sarah took to their laptops.
It looked to be another beautiful Napa day and we decided to head downtown to the Bounty Hunter for a "Pony Express" lunch. We decided to take Porter with us, since the Bounty Hunter has some nice outside cafe tables and it's very dog friendly. I had the pleasure of sitting in the back seat with Porter and I felt a bit like a grandma sitting in the back seat with the baby in the car seat. He would lean over occasionally and give me a big lick on the face, slobbering all over my brand new cardigan I bought in Yountville the day before (and paid way too much for - but hey, it was my reward to myself for making it through the week). We settled at the cafe table at the Bounty Hunter and Porter settled on the ground beside Jason as we ate and behaved himself quite well until a small group of Japanese tourists decided to wake him up by coming over to the table to look at him like he was a tourist attraction. Perhaps they mistook him for a hairy Godzilla.
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| The View from William Hill Estate |
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| Porter and Jason |
After leaving William Hill Estate we headed over to another dog-friendly winery, Alpha Omega, in Rutherford on Highway 29. Sarah said they had taken Porter there when he was a puppy for one of his first "socialization" outings. The grounds were nice with a huge covered patio, fountains, and a large grassy area with a picnic table where we parked ourselves for another tasting. The woman who served us was obviously a dog person, as she carried dog treats in her pocket. Porter was immediately in love as she fed him a couple of treats while pouring us our wine. Porter spent a lot of time on the ground near my feet and the woman remarked ' oh look, he loves his grandma.' I was quick to correct her that I was "nana" not "grandma"and she laughed. "I'm a nana too," she said, as she gave Porter another biscuit. The sun was behind the hills as we headed home for a casual dinner of spaghetti and salad. I had my suitcases to pack (I'm not a last minute packer - I like to be ready in advance) and Porter, tired from the days' adventures was in a pretty mellow mood.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Dogs and Brooms and Games - oh my!
What is it about dogs and brooms? I thought perhaps it was just an oddity with my own dog, Riley, a hyped-up Jack Russell Terrier, who goes absolutely teeth-baring crazy whenever I bring out the broom (or the vacuum cleaner for that matter). He attacks the broom, snapping at it like it's his worst enemy. I find it rather comical but more than a little inconvenient when it comes time to sweep the kitchen floor.
I found out today, however, Porter has the same affliction.
I was doing some tidying up around the house, getting ready for Jason and Sarah's arrival back home tonight, and brought out the broom to sweep the hardwood kitchen and living room floors. As I started to sweep, Porter just backed right up and then literally pounced on the broom as he uttered one of his infrequent barks. I kept sweeping, thinking it was just a fluke, but he kept pouncing and barking. Then he decided it would be even more fun if he ran through the pile of dirt/dog hair that I swept up, so that I could sweep it up again and he could bark and pounce again. It was like we had invented a new game.
Actually, over the course of the past couple of days we have invented a couple new games involving his various rubber toys. I suppose I'll have to fill in my son on these new games, because I'm sure Porter will try to get him to play them too.
In Jason and Sarah's house, it's pretty much a straight shot from the back door to the front door, so I station Porter by the front door, giving him the "sit" and "stay" command and then I stand by the back door and roll the ball like a bowling ball towards the front door, telling Porter to "leave it" as it approaches him. Nine out of ten times he actually obeys and I'm impressed by his self-control when I can see on his big doggy face that it's just killing him to not be able to just scoop up the ball and run with it.
Another game is a variation on soccer and also involves the green ball. I set Porter up in the narrower doorway between the kitchen and living room (the goal) and then try to kick the green ball past him. Let's just say he's a much better goalie than I am a kicker.
I'm more than a bit sad that my time here is coming to an end and officially, today is my last day as dog-sitter. I'm sure though, the kids will be so tired in the morning that I'll get to have one more run at Alston with Porter.
I'm a little teary just thinking about leaving the big lug, who, by the way is laying on my feet as I write this and is snoring like a chain saw (which I find rather comforting and reminiscent of my husband Jack). I hope that I've proved my skills as a dog walker and get asked back for a repeat performance sometime in the near future.
I found out today, however, Porter has the same affliction.
I was doing some tidying up around the house, getting ready for Jason and Sarah's arrival back home tonight, and brought out the broom to sweep the hardwood kitchen and living room floors. As I started to sweep, Porter just backed right up and then literally pounced on the broom as he uttered one of his infrequent barks. I kept sweeping, thinking it was just a fluke, but he kept pouncing and barking. Then he decided it would be even more fun if he ran through the pile of dirt/dog hair that I swept up, so that I could sweep it up again and he could bark and pounce again. It was like we had invented a new game.
Actually, over the course of the past couple of days we have invented a couple new games involving his various rubber toys. I suppose I'll have to fill in my son on these new games, because I'm sure Porter will try to get him to play them too.
In Jason and Sarah's house, it's pretty much a straight shot from the back door to the front door, so I station Porter by the front door, giving him the "sit" and "stay" command and then I stand by the back door and roll the ball like a bowling ball towards the front door, telling Porter to "leave it" as it approaches him. Nine out of ten times he actually obeys and I'm impressed by his self-control when I can see on his big doggy face that it's just killing him to not be able to just scoop up the ball and run with it.
Another game is a variation on soccer and also involves the green ball. I set Porter up in the narrower doorway between the kitchen and living room (the goal) and then try to kick the green ball past him. Let's just say he's a much better goalie than I am a kicker.
I'm more than a bit sad that my time here is coming to an end and officially, today is my last day as dog-sitter. I'm sure though, the kids will be so tired in the morning that I'll get to have one more run at Alston with Porter.
I'm a little teary just thinking about leaving the big lug, who, by the way is laying on my feet as I write this and is snoring like a chain saw (which I find rather comforting and reminiscent of my husband Jack). I hope that I've proved my skills as a dog walker and get asked back for a repeat performance sometime in the near future.
Day Five (or "The Day Porter Found his Bark")
Yesterday was a momentous day. I actually heard Porter bark. Not just a half-hearted 'woof' but a deep down, full bellied, full throated bark unique to big dogs. Until yesterday, he had never really barked. I thought perhaps somewhere he might have some latent Basenji DNA (Basenji's are dogs that don't bark - although they do make some interesting yodeling noise as well as howling and growling). I admit, I wasn't upset that he didn't bark. It was a bit of a relief, in fact, to have a silent dog, as my dogs at home are anything but..
We were out in the backyard when it happened. I was throwing Porter the ball with one hand while holding my lunch time sandwich with the other. I don't even know what it was that set him off, but the next thing I knew he was over by the fence and proceeded to let out a series of big healthy WOOFs and then ran to the patio door like he wanted to go inside and bark some more. I elected to keep him outside though and he continued to run up to the fence, plant his big paws, lower his head and just bark, and bark, and bark, and bark....and then he stopped. And I haven't heard him bark again since then. Very strange...
We were out in the backyard when it happened. I was throwing Porter the ball with one hand while holding my lunch time sandwich with the other. I don't even know what it was that set him off, but the next thing I knew he was over by the fence and proceeded to let out a series of big healthy WOOFs and then ran to the patio door like he wanted to go inside and bark some more. I elected to keep him outside though and he continued to run up to the fence, plant his big paws, lower his head and just bark, and bark, and bark, and bark....and then he stopped. And I haven't heard him bark again since then. Very strange...
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Day Four (already??)
Porter and I seem to have settled into our routine. Up at 7, off to the dog park (at 8:30 this morning, which was so much better traffic-wise than 8am) for at least an hour and then back to the house for work for me and a nap for Porter.
Today, however, the weather was not to be ignored. It was sunny and 80 degrees. That's right. 80 degrees in November, which should be against the law, and I felt compelled to play a bit of hooky this afternoon from my telecommuting duties to take advantage of such great weather.
Porter and I headed north to Bothe-Napa Valley State Park, on Route 29, just five miles north of St. Helena, for what I was hoping was going to be a good hike on the trails in the park. Alston dog park is great, I just needed a bit of a change of scenery. The drive up to the park was great, if you call have a dog drooling in your ear the entire way a fun ride. I think he just feels a bit confined in the back seat of my rental car and has to be a part of the action up front.
We got to the park and imagine my surprise when I read the rules posted at the entrance that stated "no dogs on the trails." What the heck? No where on the park website did I see anything about it not being a "dog friendly" park. And on top of that I was supposed to pay an $8 day use fee. Needless to say, I was a bit miffed. I parked my car in the lot by the Visitor's Center and went over to one of the ranger's who was parked in a truck to verify that in fact, I couldn't take my dog on the trail. She was very nice but stated firmly that I just had to stay on the paved roads and couldn't wander go off onto the trail. I asked about paying the day fee and she asked how long I would be staying and when I responded it was only going to be long enough for Porter to get out and walk a bit and have a potty break she said I didn't have to pay the fee. I was really disappointed because it was such a beautiful park. Then I happened to read the notices posted on the park board about "What to Do if You Encounter A Cougar" and I wasn't quite so disappointed not to be out hiking along the trail. I imagined if we met up with a cougar, Porter would probably just roll over and wait for it to sniff his private parts before the big cat decided to make me his lunch.
After a quick water break, which Porter promptly dumped out of his own little travel doggy water dish, we were back on the road. I still wasn't quite ready to surrender the beautiful weather, so we headed over to the Silverado Trail (the less "touristy" wine trail in the Napa Valley) where, as I was driving a bit aimlessly, came across a sign for Lake Berryessa. Now I have to admit something here that's a bit odd. At one point in time I had a bit of an obsession with the Zodiac killer (or perhaps it was just an obsession with Robert Downey Jr and Jake Gyllenhaal who were in the movie "Zodiac") and read a lot about him and one of the locations where he murdered a woman-(her boyfriend survived) was Lake Berryessa. Creepy, I know - and a bit weird, but I wanted to go out to Lake Berryessa, just so I could say I had been there. We stopped at a small park on Sage Canyon Road and got out and walked the trail for a little bit. I know we were nowhere near where the Zodiac incident took place, but it still gave me a bit of a chill. Porter was oblivious and was happy to keep picking up big sticks to carry in his mouth.
After the weirdness of Lake Berryessa, I decided to head back to the Silverado Trail and went over to the Plumpjack winery, which I remembered as one of those wineries listed as being "dog friendly." I had a nice wine tasting while Porter lay contentedly at my feet until several pesky people decided to say "hello" to the "cute puppy" which got him all excited again and I almost lost my wine glass from him pulling on the leash. I got a look at a bat autographed by former Red Sox player Johnny Damon (I refuse to acknowledge him as a Yankee) when he stopped by Plumpjack for a wine tasting while on his honeymoon a while back.
Porter fell asleep in the back seat on the way back home - much like the toddler he is - after the day's big excitement.
I think I'm finally getting the hang of this....
Today, however, the weather was not to be ignored. It was sunny and 80 degrees. That's right. 80 degrees in November, which should be against the law, and I felt compelled to play a bit of hooky this afternoon from my telecommuting duties to take advantage of such great weather.
Porter and I headed north to Bothe-Napa Valley State Park, on Route 29, just five miles north of St. Helena, for what I was hoping was going to be a good hike on the trails in the park. Alston dog park is great, I just needed a bit of a change of scenery. The drive up to the park was great, if you call have a dog drooling in your ear the entire way a fun ride. I think he just feels a bit confined in the back seat of my rental car and has to be a part of the action up front.
We got to the park and imagine my surprise when I read the rules posted at the entrance that stated "no dogs on the trails." What the heck? No where on the park website did I see anything about it not being a "dog friendly" park. And on top of that I was supposed to pay an $8 day use fee. Needless to say, I was a bit miffed. I parked my car in the lot by the Visitor's Center and went over to one of the ranger's who was parked in a truck to verify that in fact, I couldn't take my dog on the trail. She was very nice but stated firmly that I just had to stay on the paved roads and couldn't wander go off onto the trail. I asked about paying the day fee and she asked how long I would be staying and when I responded it was only going to be long enough for Porter to get out and walk a bit and have a potty break she said I didn't have to pay the fee. I was really disappointed because it was such a beautiful park. Then I happened to read the notices posted on the park board about "What to Do if You Encounter A Cougar" and I wasn't quite so disappointed not to be out hiking along the trail. I imagined if we met up with a cougar, Porter would probably just roll over and wait for it to sniff his private parts before the big cat decided to make me his lunch.
After the weirdness of Lake Berryessa, I decided to head back to the Silverado Trail and went over to the Plumpjack winery, which I remembered as one of those wineries listed as being "dog friendly." I had a nice wine tasting while Porter lay contentedly at my feet until several pesky people decided to say "hello" to the "cute puppy" which got him all excited again and I almost lost my wine glass from him pulling on the leash. I got a look at a bat autographed by former Red Sox player Johnny Damon (I refuse to acknowledge him as a Yankee) when he stopped by Plumpjack for a wine tasting while on his honeymoon a while back.
Porter fell asleep in the back seat on the way back home - much like the toddler he is - after the day's big excitement.
I think I'm finally getting the hang of this....
Monday, November 1, 2010
Day Three (or "It's Like Having a Toddler All Over Again
I have given birth to three wonderful children. Two of them are adults now and the other one just thinks she is. All those years of dealing with them as babies and toddlers has given me just the right amount of experience for dealing with Porter. In fact, today was a vivid reminder of all of those years because dealing with this dog is just like handling an energetic, stubborn two-year old that I can't turn my back on, have to keep constantly amused to keep him out of trouble, and wear out so he falls asleep so I can get some work done (because, after all, this is a "working vacation).
Since we went to bed relatively early last night (9:30pm) he was stirring in his crate by 6am, making this little snuffling noise just loud enough to let me know that he was awake and he wanted out. I ignored him for another 45 minutes and the snuffles turned into whines so I had to get up. So, we were up at 7am and had eaten breakfast by 7:10.
As I said before, this is a "vacation" where I actually have to get some work done (thank god for telecommuting) so spending two hours at the dog park today wasn't really an option. Since he did so well in the car yesterday, I decided we'd drive up there instead, thereby saving at least 45 minutes of total walking time up and back. I grabbed the car seat cover out of Sarah's car and spread it across the back seat because I knew he was going to be one, big smelly wet mess by the time we got done.
We were in the car by 7:50 am but I had forgotten something; even though I'm here on leisure time, everyone elses' life goes on and that meant school - and all the traffic that comes with it, since Jason's house is close to an elementary school. So, lesson learned. Do not leave the house until after 8am.
Even though it was a Monday morning and a work day, Alston was still relatively busy. Who are all these people that have so much free time to walk their dogs on a work day? Perhaps they're the recently unemployed, I don't know, but there sure were a lot of people there on a Monday morning. It was a beautiful one too. The sky was blue and the hot air balloons were out in full force, drifting over the field. It was just like an ad in a chamber of commerce magazine enticing people to move to Napa. "Come to Napa where the sky is always blue, dogs are always welcome and it's 71 degrees in November." I wouldn't be a very tough sell right about now.
We saw some more familiar dogs. There was "Merlot" (another chocolate lab), "Pinot" (a tiny Chihuahua), and a Weimariner named "Cab" (which I'm sure was short for Cabernet). This is wine country, after all, and who am I to talk, considering Porter is named after a type of beer. I wonder what these people named their children, if they have any?
We only did two short laps today and were back in the car after just a half hour, but it was long enough apparently, because we got home and Porter promptly fell asleep in a patch of sunshine by the patio door. I took the opportunity to do a load of laundry, start the dishwasher and actually get some work done. Deja vu all over again from when the kids were little and it was a contest to see how much I could get done during nap time.
One of the funny things about this dog (and trust me, there are plenty) is the fact that he has his own little area in the kitchen, fenced off by a kids' playpen gate, which is probably two feet in height, yet he hasn't figured out yet that if he wanted to he could either knock it over or just jump over it. Well, okay...maybe he couldn't jump over it (not because it's too high, he's just too clumsy). It's so funny. "Porter, go to your kennel" I'll tell him and he'll amble in to the fenced area and lay down, while I fix the flimsy latch on the gate. I hope the day never comes when he figures out he's just one little bump away from freedom.
Since we went to bed relatively early last night (9:30pm) he was stirring in his crate by 6am, making this little snuffling noise just loud enough to let me know that he was awake and he wanted out. I ignored him for another 45 minutes and the snuffles turned into whines so I had to get up. So, we were up at 7am and had eaten breakfast by 7:10.
As I said before, this is a "vacation" where I actually have to get some work done (thank god for telecommuting) so spending two hours at the dog park today wasn't really an option. Since he did so well in the car yesterday, I decided we'd drive up there instead, thereby saving at least 45 minutes of total walking time up and back. I grabbed the car seat cover out of Sarah's car and spread it across the back seat because I knew he was going to be one, big smelly wet mess by the time we got done.
We were in the car by 7:50 am but I had forgotten something; even though I'm here on leisure time, everyone elses' life goes on and that meant school - and all the traffic that comes with it, since Jason's house is close to an elementary school. So, lesson learned. Do not leave the house until after 8am.
Even though it was a Monday morning and a work day, Alston was still relatively busy. Who are all these people that have so much free time to walk their dogs on a work day? Perhaps they're the recently unemployed, I don't know, but there sure were a lot of people there on a Monday morning. It was a beautiful one too. The sky was blue and the hot air balloons were out in full force, drifting over the field. It was just like an ad in a chamber of commerce magazine enticing people to move to Napa. "Come to Napa where the sky is always blue, dogs are always welcome and it's 71 degrees in November." I wouldn't be a very tough sell right about now.
We saw some more familiar dogs. There was "Merlot" (another chocolate lab), "Pinot" (a tiny Chihuahua), and a Weimariner named "Cab" (which I'm sure was short for Cabernet). This is wine country, after all, and who am I to talk, considering Porter is named after a type of beer. I wonder what these people named their children, if they have any?
One of the funny things about this dog (and trust me, there are plenty) is the fact that he has his own little area in the kitchen, fenced off by a kids' playpen gate, which is probably two feet in height, yet he hasn't figured out yet that if he wanted to he could either knock it over or just jump over it. Well, okay...maybe he couldn't jump over it (not because it's too high, he's just too clumsy). It's so funny. "Porter, go to your kennel" I'll tell him and he'll amble in to the fenced area and lay down, while I fix the flimsy latch on the gate. I hope the day never comes when he figures out he's just one little bump away from freedom.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Day Two
I woke up this morning, after little to no sleep, feeling like I had gone 10 rounds with no gloves against Mike Tyson. My hands were bruised and stiff and almost frozen into a claw like position and my left shoulder felt dislocated - all courtesy of my dog-walking yesterday with Porter. Although he does relatively well at heeling, he still needs to be controlled and I've already developed a blister on my left hand between my thumb and first finger where the leash rubs when I'm walking him. By the end of the week, I'll probably have biceps the size of Popeye's.
After breakfast (kibble for Porter, Trader Joe's Maple Almond Cluster cereal for me) we headed up to Alston Park. The sky was starting to clear and I could see more blue sky than I could see clouds, so I was very encouraged. We hit the trail at Alston and took the long route which takes you very close to the vineyard that borders the area. I saw a couple of dogs/owners from yesterday and we all said hello (in our own individual canine and human fashion). It was a relatively problem-free walk, with the exception of the Husky who insisted on asserting himself and pinning poor Porter to the ground. Porter promptly complied and let out a little yip when the Husky starting grabbing his ear. The owner finally came along and whisked the dog away in the opposite direction of us and Porter appeared to be unscathed from the whole experience.
It was funny and kind of sweet when two or three people who passed us recognized Porter and asked how he was doing after his little "procedure" two weeks ago. He was neutered and I personally think he's still trying to figure out who he is at this point. He just doesn't know his own strength - kinda like the big, fat kid in gym class who wore the dumb glasses but didn't realize he could kick the crap out of just about anyone if he wanted to because of his sheer size.
By the time we got home the sun was out full force and we went out into the backyard where I could indulge in some Vitamin D therapy. Porter is apparently lacking some essential vitamins too (despite his daily multi-vitamin) because he insisted on digging in the dirt and eating whatever it was that he thinks he needs from the soil. He also seems to have a Vitamin C deficiency because I caught him yanking unripe lemons off the tree in the corner. Or perhaps he's self-conscious about his hideous breath and it's his form of mouth wash.
Since the weather was so beautiful (70 and sunny) I didn't want to squander the day away being a slug in the back yard since tomorrow duty calls and I have to do some work. I Googled "dog friendly wineries in Napa" and ended up with more than five pages of results. I just didn't know if I was quite ready to expose Porter to the public in a controlled setting so instead I decided to head to downtown Napa and just go for a walk. After placing a big towel on the back seat of my rental car to hopefully catch whatever dirt and crud lurked in his fur, we hit the highway. Porter, of course, ignored the towel and insisted on putting his big paws on the console and acted as my co-pilot and canine GPS. We found the Riverfront area with no problem although I was a bit nervous about parking because my parallel parking skills are definitely lacking, even more so in a rental car. Fortunately, I found a nice spot I could just pull into in front of the Napa General Store. Porter and I followed the Riverfront sidewalk and passed Morimoto's new restaurant (I hear from my son that Morimoto is quite the Karaoke animal). There have been quite a few changes to the Riverfront since my visit last year and it's Napa's new up and coming location.
Feeling the need for a little refreshment, Porter and I headed to Downtown Joe's Brewery, which is very dog-friendly. Porter and I sat on the patio and I ordered a nice Tail Waggin' Pale Ale, while Porter had some water, thoughtfully provided in a take out box by our server. Unfortunately Porter was more interested in eating the cardboard box than he was drinking the water and he spilled it all over the ground and then, of course, decided he had to lay in it. I was mentally adding up the rental car cleaning fee as I watched him wallow on the ground.
We headed back to the car and I managed to towel him off a little bit before he climbed inside so there wasn't much of a mess.
I have to say, I'm just so impressed with Napa and all it's dog-friendliness. Boise and Payette, please take some lessons from Napa.
It was funny and kind of sweet when two or three people who passed us recognized Porter and asked how he was doing after his little "procedure" two weeks ago. He was neutered and I personally think he's still trying to figure out who he is at this point. He just doesn't know his own strength - kinda like the big, fat kid in gym class who wore the dumb glasses but didn't realize he could kick the crap out of just about anyone if he wanted to because of his sheer size.
By the time we got home the sun was out full force and we went out into the backyard where I could indulge in some Vitamin D therapy. Porter is apparently lacking some essential vitamins too (despite his daily multi-vitamin) because he insisted on digging in the dirt and eating whatever it was that he thinks he needs from the soil. He also seems to have a Vitamin C deficiency because I caught him yanking unripe lemons off the tree in the corner. Or perhaps he's self-conscious about his hideous breath and it's his form of mouth wash.
Since the weather was so beautiful (70 and sunny) I didn't want to squander the day away being a slug in the back yard since tomorrow duty calls and I have to do some work. I Googled "dog friendly wineries in Napa" and ended up with more than five pages of results. I just didn't know if I was quite ready to expose Porter to the public in a controlled setting so instead I decided to head to downtown Napa and just go for a walk. After placing a big towel on the back seat of my rental car to hopefully catch whatever dirt and crud lurked in his fur, we hit the highway. Porter, of course, ignored the towel and insisted on putting his big paws on the console and acted as my co-pilot and canine GPS. We found the Riverfront area with no problem although I was a bit nervous about parking because my parallel parking skills are definitely lacking, even more so in a rental car. Fortunately, I found a nice spot I could just pull into in front of the Napa General Store. Porter and I followed the Riverfront sidewalk and passed Morimoto's new restaurant (I hear from my son that Morimoto is quite the Karaoke animal). There have been quite a few changes to the Riverfront since my visit last year and it's Napa's new up and coming location.
Feeling the need for a little refreshment, Porter and I headed to Downtown Joe's Brewery, which is very dog-friendly. Porter and I sat on the patio and I ordered a nice Tail Waggin' Pale Ale, while Porter had some water, thoughtfully provided in a take out box by our server. Unfortunately Porter was more interested in eating the cardboard box than he was drinking the water and he spilled it all over the ground and then, of course, decided he had to lay in it. I was mentally adding up the rental car cleaning fee as I watched him wallow on the ground.
We headed back to the car and I managed to towel him off a little bit before he climbed inside so there wasn't much of a mess.
I have to say, I'm just so impressed with Napa and all it's dog-friendliness. Boise and Payette, please take some lessons from Napa.
Feline Folie a Deux
Did I mention that my son and daughter-in-law also have cats? That's right. Two of them. Stella and Boots. And they've been in residence in this house much longer than their canine roommate, Porter, but things have changed since the arrival of the dog. Where before the cats had free run of the house, they are now both living in self-imposed exile - Boots in the guest room and Stella in Jason and Sarah's room. They venture out occasionally during the day for a quick drink or cat box break but other than that, they stay out of the dog's way. I don't think they do it out of fear. I don't think Porter would hurt them if he got a hold of them because I don't think this dog has an aggressive bone in his body. I just think the cats prefer to show their animosity by staying out of sight.
Until night time, that is.
That's when the fun starts.
Since Porter is confined to his crate overnight, the cats celebrate by having a free-for-all in the house that lasts from approximately 1 a.m. to about 5 a.m. I feel like I'm living in that house in the movie "Paranormal Activity" where the homeowners were constantly subjected to all sorts of weird things that went "bump" in the night. I'll just be dozing off when I'll hear some big thump or a crash and for just a moment I forget about the cats and fear someone is breaking into the house. Then one, or both, of the cats will jump up onto my bed and decide it's time to play the "hair chewing game" or the "find my toes under the blanket game." Since we no longer have any cats at our house, I had forgotten how truly evil felines can be. I think they're making me suffer too, simply because I'm taking care of the dog.
For those of you not familiar with the term 'folie a deux' according to Websters it's a condition in which symptoms of a mental disorder, such as the same delusional belief or ideas, occur simultaneously in two individuals who share a close relationship or association. That fits Stella and Boots to a T.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Day One ...Finished
After a rather rocky start today, Porter and I have now established our roles in our small pack of two. I'm the Alpha female that dispenses the food, the walks and the ball-throwing and Porter is my totally admiring audience when I decide to sing along with the cast of Glee to the three soundtracks I have downloaded in iTunes. The acoustics are great in my son's house or maybe it's just the bottle o f 2003 Pine Ridge Cabernet Sauvignon that I've consumed that makes me think that my voice has never sounded better. Either way, Porter has been content to lie at my feet and listen and I've yet to see his ears go back in that way that indicates he's suffering some kind of painful hearing experience. In fact, on a couple of songs I've seen him tilt his head and listen in a way reminiscent of the RCA dog Nipper (for those of you who remember that).
We went for another walk around 5 pm today, although it was a rather abbreviated one - only 30 minutes - just enough to get him out of the house and to get better acquainted with him on the leash. I feel a bit like Victoria Stillwell ("It's Me or the Dog") while we're walking as I'm barking out commands but this walk was a lot less painful than our maiden voyage to the dog park this morning so I'm hopeful for what tomorrow will bring.
Dinner also went well, meaning that I managed to enjoy mine without losing any of it to my hairy dinner companion. In fact, he sat there at my feet, contentedly chewing on his massive Nylabone that's so large it looks like it came from a Tyrannesourous Rex. I'm afraid to think what will happen if he decides to drop that bone on my foot.
Now if I can just get him into his kennel at bedtime I'll consider the day a success.
We went for another walk around 5 pm today, although it was a rather abbreviated one - only 30 minutes - just enough to get him out of the house and to get better acquainted with him on the leash. I feel a bit like Victoria Stillwell ("It's Me or the Dog") while we're walking as I'm barking out commands but this walk was a lot less painful than our maiden voyage to the dog park this morning so I'm hopeful for what tomorrow will bring.
Dinner also went well, meaning that I managed to enjoy mine without losing any of it to my hairy dinner companion. In fact, he sat there at my feet, contentedly chewing on his massive Nylabone that's so large it looks like it came from a Tyrannesourous Rex. I'm afraid to think what will happen if he decides to drop that bone on my foot.
Now if I can just get him into his kennel at bedtime I'll consider the day a success.
Day One Continued....
My Eyeglasses 0
Porter 1
My Blackberry phone case 0
Porter 1
My Turkey and cheddar sandwich 0
Porter 1
If we were keeping score so far today, Porter would be the definite winner. Did I mention he was a "counter surfer"? I now have proof that he's not only a counter surfer, but he's a "grab anything the minute her back is turned" kind of dog too and that also extends to the outdoors.
It's been raining off and on today and during one of the brief breaks in the rain I thought I'd sit outside and get some fresh air and also give Porter a chance to run in the back yard. I bundled up my book, glasses, phone and my lunch (the turkey sandwich) and headed out to the backyard to sit at the patio table.
Valuable lesson number one: Porter is just as adept at stealing things off the patio table as he is the kitchen counter. I went to retrieve the ball I had thrown for him which he refused to fetch (what's wrong with that picture?) and the next thing I knew Porter had my glasses in his mouth, which obviously tasted much better than the rubber ball I had thrown him. After a brief chase around the yard and resorting to a distracting treat, I got my glasses back. I opened my book to read while I was eating and that crafty devil just sat there eyeballing my sandwich and then decided to distract me by proceeding to dig a small hole in the small garden area by the house. When I went to get the rake to push the dirt back into the garden, he swooped in and gobbled up half my sandwich (although he did leave the bread - he must not be a fan of whole grain). My Blackberry phone case (thankfully not the phone) was the next casualty of Hurricane Porter.
He's not a dog....he's a canine vacuum cleaner!
Porter 1
My Blackberry phone case 0
Porter 1
My Turkey and cheddar sandwich 0
Porter 1
If we were keeping score so far today, Porter would be the definite winner. Did I mention he was a "counter surfer"? I now have proof that he's not only a counter surfer, but he's a "grab anything the minute her back is turned" kind of dog too and that also extends to the outdoors.
It's been raining off and on today and during one of the brief breaks in the rain I thought I'd sit outside and get some fresh air and also give Porter a chance to run in the back yard. I bundled up my book, glasses, phone and my lunch (the turkey sandwich) and headed out to the backyard to sit at the patio table.
He's not a dog....he's a canine vacuum cleaner!
Day One (otherwise known as "What the Heck Did I Get Myself Into")
Last month, I volunteered to watch my son Jason's dog, Porter, while Jason and his wife Sarah went on a much overdue honeymoon to Hawaii. I thought, what the heck, it's a free ticket to Napa and seven days of alone time with nothing to do but work (remotely), eat some great food and drink some great wine. Who wouldn't want to do that? So I volunteered my amateur dog-watching services and my son booked my plane ticket for Napa. Dog watching duty would commence Oct. 30 and continue until Nov. 5. Piece of cake.
Or so I thought.
Oh sure, I knew, from Jason's various tales, that Porter was a bit of a handful but I thought, being the owner of three dogs myself, that I knew a thing or two about taking care of a dog. I chuckled to myself when my son questioned if I was truly going to be able to handle Porter and his long list of do's and don't's. After all, I'd given birth and raised three children. Again, no problem - I thought.
Let me tell you a little bit about Porter. He's a nearly year-old chocolate lab and weighs in at a hefty 83 pounds and has a head the size of a shovel. He actually reminds me very much of a small brown bear. In fact, as I was being licked to death last night when I arrived, I felt a bit like I was being mauled by a bear and I was tempted to use a bear attack protection move by just "playing dead."
Porter's a well-educated dog. He's been to "puppy school" and an advanced "manners" class and all things considered he's very smart (when he wants to be). He's got the whole gamut of commands (sit, stay, down, leave it, go to your bed) down pat and thank god, because the idea of a dog this large being an uncontrollable canine just gives me goose bumps.
My son warned me Porter would need a lot of exercise and fortunately for everyone involved, there's a wonderful dog park about a mile up the road from Jason and Sarah's house. No problem. I had visions of Porter and I happily wandering the trails of Alston dog park a couple of times a day; Porter, running and gamboling with the other dogs off leash while I looked on adoringly, marveling at such a wonderful dog.
Jason also warned me that Porter liked to "counter surf" and whatever wasn't nailed down on the counter would quickly find its way into Porter's massive, drooly jaws and then a favorite game of 'chase Porter around the dining room table' would ensue in order to retrieve whatever it was he was trying to ingest.
Luckily, Porter could be easily distracted from whatever bad behavior he might be indulging in (or even considering) by offering treats and was, as my son called him 'a treat whore.'
Armed with all this knowledge, the number of the 24-hour a day vet service, and a cupboard full of treats, I wished Jason and Sarah 'bon voyage' this morning at 6 am when they departed for the airport in Sacramento to catch their flight to Hawaii. Porter was sleeping in his crate so I headed back to bed for another hour's sleep. I woke up again at 7:30 a.m (8:30 a.m. in Idaho, so I truly did feel like I "slept in") and released Porter from his crate, put on his leash and we headed out to the back yard for a quick potty break. Then it was back inside for breakfast. Two cups of dog food for Porter and a bowl of oatmeal for me. I decided to unpack a few of my things and put my little bag of toiletries and my comb in the guest bathroom. I swear, I turned my back for just two seconds and the next thing I knew, Porter had my comb in his mouth and was headed for the dining room, where he thought it would be fun to start our morning off by running around the dining room table. I tried, in vain, to retrieve my comb without resorting to a treat to distract him but, in the end, I had to give him a small milk bone as ransom for my comb. I wasn't upset. It was no big deal. Just a little slip up (on my part and his). We were going to be just fine.
After a couple of cups of coffee to get me going, I got dressed for our walk and loaded my sweat shirt pocket with plastic poop bags (Jason said people really frown on those who don't pick up after their dogs) and a couple of treats. We headed down the street, Porter heeling nicely beside me (although it still felt like I was trying to rein in a small horse). All was good with the world (even though it was a little chilly and misting just a bit) until we came to a discarded plastic cup buried in the bushes near the sidewalk. It quickly found its way into Porter's mouth, despite my repeated commands of "leave it." He carried it for a couple of blocks and then lost interest in it.
We met up with an old couple walking on the sidewalk and I experienced my first feeling of apprehension. Would he lunge at them, ignore them? I just didn't know, so I moved us off the sidewalk and told Porter to "sit" and "stay" which he did just as commanded. The old man commented 'well, look at that. I wish our grandchildren would mind that well." I joked that Porter was my "grand dog" and the old man said "you've done a great job with him. Could we send the grandkids over?" I felt a little bit smug at having such a well-behaved dog (even though I truly had nothing to do with Porter's training) and we headed on down the street.
The parking lot of the Alston dog park was filled with cars containing dogs of all shapes and sizes, all just chomping at the bit to get out and run. Alston has about 30 acres that are "off leash" and the trails border a nearby vineyard. The trails are nice and there are some thoughtfully placed doggie drinking fountains as well as trash can/poop bag stations. I would love to see something similar in my little town of Payette (where it's actually against city ordinance to have your dog in the city parks. ?????).
I struck up a conversation with a very nice woman named Laurie who was exercising her two dogs and she gave me the low-down on the park and said she'd be happy to walk the trails with me.
I let Porter off the leash and he was off in doggy heaven, running, rolling, and sniffing the other dogs. I was a bit apprehensive about how well he'd mind me when I called to get him to "come" but he did pretty well and didn't go too far out of my sight. Although he resembles a small bear, he's very submissive when it comes to the other dogs and just flops down on his back and rolls over whenever he gets challenged by another dog.
The only real problem I encountered was when he happened upon a tennis ball that belonged to another lab who wasn't quite as quick on the "fetch" command when his owner threw the ball. Porter was there in a flash (or more like a really fast lumber) and snatched up the ball and ran away with it. It actually took a team effort of Laurie's two dogs and then three other various dogs who wandered by to distract Porter enough to drop the ball while one of the other little dogs fetched it up and brought it back to the lab's owner. It was pretty comical.
And then there were the mud puddles. It's been a bit rainy in Napa the last week so there were a number of really fun mud puddles for Porter to drink out of (never mind the nice fresh water at the watering stations). As I knew he would, he eventually just couldn't help himself and had to get down into a puddle for a good roll in the mud. Thank god we hadn't driven up there in my rental car....
After about two laps he finally started to slow down a bit so we said goodbye to Laurie and her pack and headed back home. He was much better at heeling on the way back because he was one worn out pup. He did find an abandoned Starbucks cup that he insisted on carrying the better part of the way home. By the time we reached home we were both panting so I guess I can consider that my work out for the day.
Or so I thought.
Oh sure, I knew, from Jason's various tales, that Porter was a bit of a handful but I thought, being the owner of three dogs myself, that I knew a thing or two about taking care of a dog. I chuckled to myself when my son questioned if I was truly going to be able to handle Porter and his long list of do's and don't's. After all, I'd given birth and raised three children. Again, no problem - I thought.
Let me tell you a little bit about Porter. He's a nearly year-old chocolate lab and weighs in at a hefty 83 pounds and has a head the size of a shovel. He actually reminds me very much of a small brown bear. In fact, as I was being licked to death last night when I arrived, I felt a bit like I was being mauled by a bear and I was tempted to use a bear attack protection move by just "playing dead."
Porter's a well-educated dog. He's been to "puppy school" and an advanced "manners" class and all things considered he's very smart (when he wants to be). He's got the whole gamut of commands (sit, stay, down, leave it, go to your bed) down pat and thank god, because the idea of a dog this large being an uncontrollable canine just gives me goose bumps.
My son warned me Porter would need a lot of exercise and fortunately for everyone involved, there's a wonderful dog park about a mile up the road from Jason and Sarah's house. No problem. I had visions of Porter and I happily wandering the trails of Alston dog park a couple of times a day; Porter, running and gamboling with the other dogs off leash while I looked on adoringly, marveling at such a wonderful dog.
Jason also warned me that Porter liked to "counter surf" and whatever wasn't nailed down on the counter would quickly find its way into Porter's massive, drooly jaws and then a favorite game of 'chase Porter around the dining room table' would ensue in order to retrieve whatever it was he was trying to ingest.
Luckily, Porter could be easily distracted from whatever bad behavior he might be indulging in (or even considering) by offering treats and was, as my son called him 'a treat whore.'
Armed with all this knowledge, the number of the 24-hour a day vet service, and a cupboard full of treats, I wished Jason and Sarah 'bon voyage' this morning at 6 am when they departed for the airport in Sacramento to catch their flight to Hawaii. Porter was sleeping in his crate so I headed back to bed for another hour's sleep. I woke up again at 7:30 a.m (8:30 a.m. in Idaho, so I truly did feel like I "slept in") and released Porter from his crate, put on his leash and we headed out to the back yard for a quick potty break. Then it was back inside for breakfast. Two cups of dog food for Porter and a bowl of oatmeal for me. I decided to unpack a few of my things and put my little bag of toiletries and my comb in the guest bathroom. I swear, I turned my back for just two seconds and the next thing I knew, Porter had my comb in his mouth and was headed for the dining room, where he thought it would be fun to start our morning off by running around the dining room table. I tried, in vain, to retrieve my comb without resorting to a treat to distract him but, in the end, I had to give him a small milk bone as ransom for my comb. I wasn't upset. It was no big deal. Just a little slip up (on my part and his). We were going to be just fine.
After a couple of cups of coffee to get me going, I got dressed for our walk and loaded my sweat shirt pocket with plastic poop bags (Jason said people really frown on those who don't pick up after their dogs) and a couple of treats. We headed down the street, Porter heeling nicely beside me (although it still felt like I was trying to rein in a small horse). All was good with the world (even though it was a little chilly and misting just a bit) until we came to a discarded plastic cup buried in the bushes near the sidewalk. It quickly found its way into Porter's mouth, despite my repeated commands of "leave it." He carried it for a couple of blocks and then lost interest in it.
We met up with an old couple walking on the sidewalk and I experienced my first feeling of apprehension. Would he lunge at them, ignore them? I just didn't know, so I moved us off the sidewalk and told Porter to "sit" and "stay" which he did just as commanded. The old man commented 'well, look at that. I wish our grandchildren would mind that well." I joked that Porter was my "grand dog" and the old man said "you've done a great job with him. Could we send the grandkids over?" I felt a little bit smug at having such a well-behaved dog (even though I truly had nothing to do with Porter's training) and we headed on down the street.
The parking lot of the Alston dog park was filled with cars containing dogs of all shapes and sizes, all just chomping at the bit to get out and run. Alston has about 30 acres that are "off leash" and the trails border a nearby vineyard. The trails are nice and there are some thoughtfully placed doggie drinking fountains as well as trash can/poop bag stations. I would love to see something similar in my little town of Payette (where it's actually against city ordinance to have your dog in the city parks. ?????).
I struck up a conversation with a very nice woman named Laurie who was exercising her two dogs and she gave me the low-down on the park and said she'd be happy to walk the trails with me.
I let Porter off the leash and he was off in doggy heaven, running, rolling, and sniffing the other dogs. I was a bit apprehensive about how well he'd mind me when I called to get him to "come" but he did pretty well and didn't go too far out of my sight. Although he resembles a small bear, he's very submissive when it comes to the other dogs and just flops down on his back and rolls over whenever he gets challenged by another dog.
The only real problem I encountered was when he happened upon a tennis ball that belonged to another lab who wasn't quite as quick on the "fetch" command when his owner threw the ball. Porter was there in a flash (or more like a really fast lumber) and snatched up the ball and ran away with it. It actually took a team effort of Laurie's two dogs and then three other various dogs who wandered by to distract Porter enough to drop the ball while one of the other little dogs fetched it up and brought it back to the lab's owner. It was pretty comical.
And then there were the mud puddles. It's been a bit rainy in Napa the last week so there were a number of really fun mud puddles for Porter to drink out of (never mind the nice fresh water at the watering stations). As I knew he would, he eventually just couldn't help himself and had to get down into a puddle for a good roll in the mud. Thank god we hadn't driven up there in my rental car....
After about two laps he finally started to slow down a bit so we said goodbye to Laurie and her pack and headed back home. He was much better at heeling on the way back because he was one worn out pup. He did find an abandoned Starbucks cup that he insisted on carrying the better part of the way home. By the time we reached home we were both panting so I guess I can consider that my work out for the day.
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