Cookie Doh!

Just what you want to find when you get home with a migraine.  Notice the blur behind her?  That's her tail.  

Manipulation

I was just reminded that Coda knows how to manipulate me fairly well.  She wanted food.  To get me off the couch (I was checking email - I've been out ALL DAY.  I am NOT LAZY.  Today, anyways.) she walked over to the back door and looked at me.  This is her signal to me that she wants to go and sunbathe on the patio.  I got up, walked over, opened the door, and watched her walk away the look at me like I'm a dumbass.  So I closed the door.  She did this again.  I finally determined she was crying wolf, and then realized it was her afternoon feeding time.  So I fed her.  And then proceeded to get up and go the same motions when she really did want out.

Here's the kicker.  She normally just pesters me to get up, then walks over to her bowl and I realize, 'Oh yeah!  It's food time!'  What was up with today???

Running Amok

Poor Coda's been through a lot, lately.

We moved.  Left the exciting life in downtown Dallas and opted for the 'burbs.  Still no yard, but a patio to sun on and a park with a place I can let her off the leash for a bit.  Plus I've been gone a lot this past month.  Visits to New Mexico, music educator's convention, more visits to New Mexico... poor pup has really gotten to know the boarder.  Thank goodness she likes them!  'Cause she's going back for 3 days over Spring Break... :)  And now I've been sick for 2 weeks.  She needs her walks!  She needs her playtime!  She needs her mama to have energy to handle her needy ways!  And honestly, I'm ready for our walks and playtime to return!  Being sick is no fun.  Thankfully we're on the healing side of the infections, so hopefully the students don't make it worse, and I just continue to get better.  Then we can go run amok on the golf course (off-leash) together! 

Goober

Coda: Hey Mom!
Me: Hey Coda!
Coda: I just wanted to thank you for taking me on that mile walk this morning. It was a refreshing way to start the day.
Me: Awww... you're so welcome! I enjoyed it too!
Coda: I enjoyed meeting that police officer.
Me: He was very intrigued by your size.
Coda: I know. I'm good like that.
Me: One of the reasons I love you!
Coda: *lick* I also liked showing up that hyper boxer we walked by.
Me: Yeah, she really wanted to play with you.
Coda: Silly kid. But you want to know my favorite part of the walk?  
Me: What was that?  
Coda: When you threw away the baggies.
Me: Really? That was your favorite?
Coda: Well, ok. It was when you realized you threw away our keys to our gate, home, and mailbox WITH the baggies!
Me: You HAD to bring that up, didn't you?
Coda: BAHAHAHA!!! And then when you actually considered going back to rummage through a city trash can!
Me: Goober.
Coda: Really? You're calling ME the goober?? HAHAHAHA
Me: *sigh*

Early Warning System

I'm impressed by Coda's ability to figure out the "good guys" from the "bad guys". Or at least the "be-wary-of-me guys". Today on a walk we passed 4 different gentlemen. All physically different in every way conceivable. All were greeted with a wagging tail and an attempt to lick them silly. It's nice to know my dog's not prejudiced.

But the happy greeting isn't always the case, which, honestly, makes me feel safer. Every so often we will come upon someone and the hair slowly rises. The collar starts to pull. And I feel a slight vibration through the leash telling me that while I might not be able to to hear it yet, she's starting to growl. She stands between me and the other person, who by this point is usually across the street or taking a different route considering the size and look of my dog. And I'm a-o-kay with that. I think the only time she really had me worried was when we never saw anyone. We went out for our nightly walk and before we'd gone 100 feet her hair was up, she was growling audibly, and she was pulling me back to the gate to get back into the complex, and then inside our home. For the next 15 minutes she walked between our back window and the front door, sniffing, growling, and watching like a hawk. She refused to go back out, even after she'd calmed down.

Several people have asked if I carry pepper spray or own a weapon that goes with us on our jaunts. I don't feel like I need one. With Coda, I feel like I get an early warning. And that she'll protect me. She doesn't search out trouble. She only makes me aware of possibly "iffy" situations. And will even lead me away, to keep me safe. She's my most trusted line of defense.

Those of you that hang out with me are probably tired of hearing it. However, I really do have a good dog.

Bathaphobia

Afraid of the bath. Or the water. Or just doesn't like the process. Or all of the above. And once she's in the tub, it's not so much a chore to keep her there, but to get her in a position where the water won't end up all over the floor with suds of flea and tick preventative shampoo making everything smell like wet dog.

I have to get my half laying down dog off the floor and put her in the tub. Coda weighs 86 pounds. Granted, no woman likes her weight to be displayed, but I doubt Coda will ever read this.

86 lbs. And as she creeps towards the edge of the tub in order to evade the oncoming stream of water from the removable showerhead (whoever invented that was a genius) I end up using my entire body's weight to realign her so she can be thoroughly washed and rinsed while causing the least spillover onto the floor.

And then she's done! The bath really isn't that long of a process, it's just, well, a process. I'm so glad when it's over though. She smells clean. She feels soft. Her hair kind of frizzes up in a couple of places to where that section looks like a crewcut on a dog. And the whites of her paws are WHITE. It's like bleaching an old white undershirt and realizing just how dirty it was.

Until next time. When maybe she won't weigh 86 lbs. and I won't feel like I'm throwing out my back getting her into the tub.

Sleeper Cell

She lies in her bed, seemingly deep in sleep. Dreaming. Her big paws twitching and her lips moving as small bursts of air escape in a simulated bark while she chases a squirrel or cat. She's restful. Lazy. And then 1:40pm rolls around and I can't get her out of my face until I take her out on a walk so she can see that the weather has only deteriorated throughout the day to become even hotter and more unbearable. So it's back inside to the cool tile floor. Not 30 minutes later, she's in my face again.

To think she's so cute...