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.

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.

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.

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! 

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.