the world is your acorn

Oliver is off getting his hair did today, so I’m home all alone. It’s a weird feeling. It’s not as if when we’re here together we interact all that much. But I know he’s around, and if I get bored I can play with him or just look and see what he’s doing. And there’s also the guilt of sitting around doing nothing instead of taking him on a walk or something. Well, today it’s just me. I’m getting a lot of things done that are difficult when he is around, like mopping and mowing. Still though, the house feels strangely empty. I’ll be glad when he comes home, even if he is a needy little bugger.

Oliver just had a bath. Now he is all wet, and doesn’t know what to do with himself. I think he does not want to sit or lie down while he is wet. He keeps walking around, then standing and staring at me. Then he’ll shake himself, scratch at the floor or one of this pillows, circle like he might lie down, lower his ass a couple times, then get up and repeat. Cute. And clean.

Dr. J is out of town for a few days, so her dog Inde is staying with us. Today is my first day home alone with her, since The Little Red Haired Girl is back to work. I have to take Inde and Oliver walking in a bit, but I don’t know if I should take them separately or together. Sometimes having two dogs is a lot to handle, especially if you don’t know one of them very well yet.

On a side note, I just gave them each a little rawhide to gnaw on. They both immediately dropped their own, walked across the room, took the other’s, then settled down to chew. Dogs are so weird.

Oliver got into some baby bunnies in the yard last night. He’s been having some stomach issues, which we found out might be a result of eating rabbit poop. But he’s been needing to go out in the middle of the night a lot to take care of said stomach issues. Last night we let him out, but instead of taking care of business and coming back in, he stood in the corner of the yard sniffing around for a really long time, refusing to come in when called. So we went out there to see what was up. I heard some squeaking and the The Little Red Haired Girl saw a few furry little heads.

Well, apparently over the course of the night Oliver had to go out a few more times, and The Little Red Haired Girl took him on the leash instead of just opening the door for him, so he wouldn’t get at the little furries. Except the last time at 5am when she was just too tired. And, lo and behold, a tiny bunny was found lying on the front stoop when we got up this morning. A few minutes later we saw him walking around the yard with another in his mouth. I went out to try and make him drop it, but he thought we were playing keep away. Finally I think he figured out I was not playing, and he sat and let me pry it out of his jaws (though reluctantly). Poor little bunnies. What were we supposed to do to prevent that from happening?

This weekend we had Rudy, a 44lb mutt of some kind stay over while her mom was out of town. Rudy is about the same age and size as Oliver, although much more muscular. They had a blast. They chased each other around the yard, sniffed together, ate grass together, sunbathed, and wrestled. Inside they played tug, Rudy dragging Oliver around the hardwoods. Whenever we came home or walked around the house they would both jump up and follow us around, tails wagging. All of a sudden there was just so much energy in the house.

It’s so quiet now that Rudy has gone back home. I kind of miss her. I see how nice it would be to find a brother or sister for Oliver. But I also know our house and budget are both way to small for two energetic dogs. Maybe someday soon though. Some pictures from the weekend are at Oliver’s blog.

We never thought Oliver would ever want to play fetch. Poodles generally don’t go for those kinds of shenanigans. So we were pleasantly surprised when he started to fetch with his kosher bone in the house. We figured that maybe his terrier half wants to fetch. But we were also encouraged by another poodle (miniature) who lives down the street who loves fetch. His dad told us that he just learned by watching other dogs do it at the park. This was exciting news, and lo and behold one day on returning from the dog park The Little Red Haired Girl reported to me that Oliver had played fetch with a tennis ball.

Now we have been trying it in our own backyard for a couple weeks now. This is the general pattern of “fetch” that I’ve encountered today:

1. Oliver goes and picks up the ball, brings it over, and drops it just far away enough from where I’m sitting that I have to get out of my chair to pick it up. Then he sits and stares at me until I agree to play “fetch” with him.
2. I pick up the ball and throw it.
3. Oliver looks at me, looks at the ball, and considers going to get it.
4. After a few minutes, he saunters over to the ball.
5. Oliver lies down next to the ball.
6. After a while, Oliver picks up the ball, and after walking around the yard some, eventually brings it to the front right corner of the yard about 5 feet away from where I’m standing. This seems to be the area where he has decided the ball lives.
7. Oliver goes about his business of gnawing on sticks.
8. Oliver goes and picks up the ball, brings it over, and drops it just far away enough from where I’m sitting that I have to get out of my chair to pick it up. Then he sits and stares at me until I agree to play “fetch” with him.

We’ve played at least 4 times in the past 2 hours. That’s how long it takes.

Oliver had some fun at the dog park this morning:

The dog just walked over to where I am sitting on the couch and licked the bottom of my slipper.

Oliver soaked up some rays on this gorgeous 45 degree afternoon.

This morning The Little Red Haired Girl woke me up with the news that it had snowed last night. Ever skeptical about “snow” here in Nashville, I just nodded and smiled. Undeterred, she told me it was still on the ground, and Oliver was playing in it. She had that look on her face and that tone in her voice that people do sometimes when they talk about snow. I think it’s part awe, part wonder, part excitement, and part “I’m sharing something magical with you.” She definitely never felt this way about snow when we were living in Boston. Maybe it being Oliver’s first snow, The Little Red Haired Girl was seeing it through his excited little eyes. Anyway, I got up to see: