Author Archive: Helen

This was the look in Raven’s eyes…

…before she did this to my papaya tree.

A co-worker asked me about my new perfume today. I told her it was a citrusy blend and I didn’t remember the name. She said it reminded her of summer. Probably that would be the mosquito repellant candles she has in her back yard.

I am trying to get Raven into an agility class, but no one’s answered the e-mail or phone message I left at the dog obedience school. I wonder if they’ve heard of Raven. Or moreso, heard Raven. If she gets a spot in that class, I’m doomed. A person and their dog cannot possibly make it through an agility class without bonding.

Meanwhile, Raven stood on two lawn chairs tonight. No other dog has ever had the gumption to jump onto one of my plastic lawn chairs, yet with a ball in her mouth. Raven sees two chairs together, and jumps on one, then puts front feet on the one next to it, so she can oversee her subjects. (She doesn’t know yet that queenly job is already taken.) Raven’s definitely got agility Dobie written all over her. What a gem!

Look what she did tonight to the arm of my futon. She accomplished all this right in front of the eyes in the back of my head! I’m still waiting for the onslaught of adoption applications on her.

I tried the citronella bark collar today. Raven liked it. After she finished barking, I put the emptied collar away. Then I dressed her up and took a picture, so I could get a laugh while getting even. It was a good laugh, but next time, I’d wait a week till the citronella cloud cleared, so in between laughs, I’d be sucking in air instead of citronella.

Dear DoberDiary

I woke up this morning groaning. My prayers had not been answered. My foster puppy, Raven was still here. Screaming from her crate. I wanted to turn the volume off, and take another 15 minutes to sleep, but I still haven’t found that off switch of hers.

She screams and I cannot move fast enough to please her. Heck, I can’t move fast enough to please me anymore, but having a dog yelling at me from her crate in the next room doesn’t make for getting up on the sunny side of the street. It actually makes me grumpy, believe it or not.

I yelled back at her, which only convinces her that I am indeed awake. That gets her all the more riled up and excited to start her day. A day that’s filled with playing, eating, and barking. I never met a Dobie that was so vocal. She barks whenever she wants something. And she always wants something.

If I let her out of her crate first, she crashes through the house to greet her friends with pawing hellos. Not everyone of my Dobies likes that. OK, none of them like that. At least she has stubby nails, but her barks make up for that. They are long and sharp. If I wait to let her out last, well, I get serenaded throughout that ritual. And I yell back at her, so it’s just a couple of gals singing off key. I haven’t decided which scenario is worse.

This morning, before I left for work, I grabbed the one and only no-bark collar I have and haven’t used for several years. It’s a citronella spray, and I tested it with a blow to the bark receptor mechanism (technical jargon) and no spurt of citronella, so I decided it was time to get a new battery, and I would do that at lunch. I put Raven in her crate, and left the house to a more peaceful part of the planet.

I do have to give Raven credit. She is quiet when I leave. She is getting better. That is one thing I give her credit for. When I leave and when I arrive, she is quiet. It’s only when my ears, my last few frazzled nerves, and I are present that she seems to find the need to really let loose and belt out some tunes. That is why she must find a home … a home with a very patient person to be her mommy. OK, or daddy. A home where she will have lots of exercise, and go to agility class. Or be a Frisbee Dobie. She has a great tail that she uses as a rudder when she jumps. Phenomenal.

I came back at lunch with the new battery. I let everyone out and have only a few minutes for the festivities at lunch – everyone sun bathes and I eat. They get breakfast and dinner. I do too, but I also get lunch. OK, and snacks. OK, sometimes too many snacks. Just too many. So back to this. Then, before I leave, I test the no-bark collar by blowing on it. Nothing. That’s when I figured maybe it was out of citronella, so I put some in, and blow again. Yee haw! That little bark receptor mechanism spewed out a stream from its blow hole like a geyser. It went far into the a/c vent, which is what I was standing under, and promptly perfumed the house. It was like a mosquito exorcism. I think that’s what it was. I also smelled quite citronelly as I left the house to go back to work. My boss looked at me twice, but didn’t mention the aroma following me around. Meanwhile, there was no time to try the collar.

So after work, I had to go to a Home Depot that was about the fifth closest to my house, but due to the fact that the a/c manufacturer of the a/c filters I use had reportedly laid off staff and were now unable to fulfill orders in a timely manner, all the closer Home Depots were out of the size of filters I use. And I have dogs! I go through a lot of those filters. When I found the #5 store had them, I asked the clerk to hold all 10 of them he had, and I would drive down after work. I did.

I noticed that I was really going in slow motion, though. I was in line after line after line at all these lights. Rush hour is ugly. But I was calm. I sang along with Emmy Lou, smiled at people who cut me off, I didn’t even raise a single middle finger during the whole outing. Plus, I had the great idea that Costco would be a pleasant quick stop. Quick…tehehehe. Costco lines, quick? Tehehehe! But it was so nice. So serene. So quiet and barkless. When an hour and a half had passed, I knew. Yes, I did. I knew what I was avoiding. Raven’s bark! Eeegads! That’s what awaited me. So the longer I prolonged the inevitable, the longer she was building up like a volcanic eruption. That’s when I raced through the streets like a bat out of hecksville…you know? Like any other South Floridian driver.

I pulled up to the house and screeched to a stop. It was a quiet screech, I swear. Then I realized that today was trash day! I had the recycle containers to haul in yet. I tiptoed so Raven wouldn’t hear me. And she didn’t. She was quiet till I got in the house, which, holy moly, still smelled like citronella. Even up till I let her out of her crate, Raven remain rather composed. But when the door opened, the celebration began. Yikes. I wanted to just shove her out that back door, but being we are “in training,” the war of the wills began. She needs to sit and shut uppa her mouth before I open the door. So after 30 minutes, she finally did. OK, I am exaggerating. It just felt like 30 minutes. It was more like 1 minute. The sit part, she gets so fine. It’s the shut uppa her mouth part that she doesn’t get so fine.

At some point she settled, and we all played in the back yard. Raven is remarkable. For a Dobie under a year, she is already retrieving of her own volition. OK, sometimes when I throw her toys one way, she runs the other way, but she figures that out. Eventually. Raven runs like a gazelle. OK, like a donkey, but a really really fast donkey, which fits her personality. Stubborn. Sweet, but stubborn. And she always brings the toys back to me and either throws them at my feet or wants me to play a little tug with her before giving it up. When I throw her toys, and she has to run around something to get them, she gets so excited, she shrieks. No surprise, I guess. But that is really cute. She’s unique. She’ll be a special special buddy to the right person. (I hope that doesn’t end up being me, but you never know.)

I have a permanent foster named Raven. She’s loud. Thick-headed. Strong-willed. Persistent. I’m pretty sure, sooner or later, I’m going to be able to say how these traits are a good thing. But currently, they are not.

She has the cute little girly howly bark that other Dobie girls have, but that can quickly turn into a shrieking, high volume, temper-tantrum-throwing demand bark when her initial request isn’t met immediately. These requests usually require service of some kind. My letting her out of the crate, my presenting her food bowl first, my letting her out of the crate the second she is done with her food bowl so she can scavange or otherwise annoy the others who have food bowls in various stages of fullness. She has all sorts of needs that, in her juvenile mind, should be met immediately.

I take it a day at a time vacillating between squeezing her little neck and taking a swig of tonic.

I found Raven on-line at a shelter nearby. I am fond of all natural Dobies, and Raven is that. My favorite of all are the n/n (natural ears/natural tail) black/rust females, which appears to be what Raven is. Yes, she is 100% Dobergirl. It was that 10% Tazmanian Devilette I wasn’t expecting. I have had good luck with temperament. And in walked Raven.

I’m not saying she’s got a bad temperament. I’m saying she’s got a rock-solid, nearly immovable will and plenty of confidence. I’m sure she was abandonned for her incessant barking and lack of deference to authority.

I will never forget the day I saw her in person at the shelter. She was wagging her tail and being cute as pie – a Dobergirl turning on the charm. Most Dobies don’t do well in shelter environments, so you don’t know what you get till you walk out the door and watch what happens. Usually, that is like watching a lovely rose bloom. Raven’s like experiencing a Mack truck barreling through your household.