Daisy, Drowsy

For the folks who are saying to themselves “it’s been two days and no new pictures of Daisy,” you can reset your clocks: Here she is via one of the faux-retro cameras that are all the rage on cell phones these days. Note the photo scratches! That’s your assurance of fake authenticity! The picture is of Daisy in her crate; she came crate-trained, which is actually a very good thing.

I’m also happy to say Daisy does now appear to grasp the concept that the cats are full fledged members of the family and not to be hugged using one’s teeth. The cats are still not thrilled by Daisy’s presence but seem to be accepting it with that sort of huffy exasperation they do so well. This counts as material progress, and makes me happy that we’re getting this all resolved before it actually gets cold and the cats basically stay in the house full time because, hey, it’s warm here. That would not be the time for animal personality conflicts.

Also, Daisy snores. It’s cute.

 

21 Comments on “Daisy, Drowsy”

  1. All our dogs have been crate trained. It’s good for them and for us. She has a place to sleep and not be bothered and we don’t have to worry about her getting into things are night.

  2. “Daisy does now appear to grasp the concept that the cats are full fledged members of the family”

    Hurrah!

    My guess is it won’t be more than a month before you come downstairs (assuming you have an upstairs) and see one or more of the cats sleeping next to the dog.

  3. She snores, but does she dream?

    My brother’s greyhound will occasionally bark and paw in his sleep, like he’s tearing down the racetrack in his mind.

    Oddly enough, he hasn’t worked out how to bark while awake. He occasionally manages a sharp sort of yell, and in so doing surprises himself so much that he jumps back to get away from the noise.

  4. Hugging with your teeth. Nice. (No mom, I wasn’t biting my sister, I was *hugging* her with my teeth.)

    Should we take bets on when we’ll get a picture of Daisy and one of the cats spooning? I agree with Ben, I think it will happen sometime before the end of November. Right around when the weather gets cold, and the cats realize that Daisy is warm.

  5. She is a lovely looking dog. Isn’t it fun watching cats and dogs sort things out (as long as it doesn’t involve blood, of course.) My dog learned to behave around cats – though I believe she simply pretends to tolerate them. Being a Lab, she likes to share her toys with one and all. She is mystified when the cats don’t want to play tug, and I’m quite certain her feelings are hurt on a daily basis.

  6. Love, dog cookies and one good claw swat across the nose from one of the cats will soon lead to them sniffing each other’s noses and curling up on opposite ends of the couch.

  7. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang for days

    Oh, she’s a darling. Very cute.

    I so wish I could get into the mind of a dog. Just to figure out what the heck is happening in there. How do they figure out we’re okay to hang out with? That we’re trustworthy? It amazes me.

  8. @13: At a guess, 15 or 18 thousand years of genetic selection via domestication probably has something to do with it. Or perhaps the egg came first… some scientists think that the trait of tending to trust humans more is in fact what caused the genetic differentiation of dogs from the gray wolf. The wolves who were more curious and trusting/less fearful eventually became domesticated. Common sense would seem to say… yes, both of those things.

  9. @5 and 8:
    My half-lab doesn’t snore, but he certainly does dream. Under-the-breath whimpers and half-barks and little jerks of the paws… makes me wish I could see where he is and what he’s chasing, and hope that he’s having a great deal of fun!

    I despair of him ever coming to an accommodation with my cats though; they were feral kittens brought indoors, and have always been skittish and fearful of everything and everyone besides me. They’ve lived in the basement since I got married and then got a dog. Samson is very curious about them… but on the few occasions they’ve gotten up close and personal, the cats run and then instinct kicks in and the dog chases, and everybody’s stereotypes are reinforced… if only they would just stand their ground and claw him in the nose once or twice, then probably everybody could be friends. But I think it’s not in the cards.

  10. hello daisy. :) lucy the rescue corgi is very fond of her kennel but during the day she prefers the couch. when it’s time for bed all i have to say is “time for bed” and she races off and gets in her kennel. we tried to let her sleep out of the kennel but she cried like her heart was breaking and sat huddled in a corner of the room, moaning piteously. we also tried leaving the kennel door open and she just cried and wandered in and out (over to the side of the bed to cry) and was very confused and upset. it’s a comfort thing i think. she likes to feel secure at night and leaving the door open (or even unlatched) doesn’t give her that same sense of safety. :shrug:

  11. You haven’t heard dog snoring until you have two English Bulldogs. Drove my wife to earplugs.

    Zeus (_our_ Zeus, the male bulldog) does the run/bark dreaming thing as well.

  12. When confronted with a cat, our dog, Nelson is very much like a middle school boy confronted with a girl: he’s fascinated and grossed out all at once. And yes, I do believe he wants to hug them with his teeth. THAT’S what he has been trying to do all this time! Thank you John, for clarifying that for me.

  13. You are aware that you just invited a wolf into your home, not that that its a bad thing. Point of fact I live with several . Still there’s minimal genetic difference between a ‘dog’ and a ‘wolf’ . And while we as people have breed dogs,almost certainly dogs have breed people . Just reminding you.
    P.S. nice looking dog,

  14. Annalee @5,

    Has your brother tried a family howl yet? When the coyotes were loud one night, my sister discovered that her greyhound could do a creditable wolf howl. A human imitating wolves will also do the trick. The greyhound listens, bobs her head as though in some distress, whimpers a few times, and then cuts loose with the call of the wild. It seems to release some pent up tension. I’ve never heard a terrier do anything like that. Seems to be a hound thing.

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