A change in routine affects everyone, including the dog. At first, I didn’t notice much difference in Our Best Friend’s behaviour after The Spouse moved out. I figured it was because I’m the one who feeds him 95% of the time,  walks him 99% of the time (I now allow the Middle Child to walk him up and down the street, though I probably shouldn’t), and takes him out back for his final relief of the night 50% of the time (the Oldest shares that responsibility– grudgingly and with a lot of complaints). And of course, I take him to the dog park 100% of the time. The Spouse almost never did any of that, even though keeping OBF was his idea in the first place.

The Spouse has been gone a while now. In the last few weeks, I’ve noticed a change in Our Best Friend, and it’s not a positive one.

He barks more.

He used to bark whenever someone came to the door, or when the doorbell rang. We never managed to train him to stop barking on command (to be fair, we never really tried), and though it was annoying, it was never ridiculously prolonged. Plus the trigger was consistent– the door. Ingress to the home. He’s a German shepherd mix. This makes sense.

Well forget the mix part. These days he’s all German shepherd guard dog. The slightest sound gets him barking, and he’s almost impossible to stop. Picking up the leash also sets him off on an unstoppable round of high-pitched yips and woofs; only the deeper bass of a big breed precludes one from thinking he’s a small yappy type. Of course, as usual, he’s under-exercised, especially since I was bedridden for almost a week during Passover with fever and a sore throat that was not strep and thus did not get better with penicillin, and other than potty breaks he was house-bound FOREVER. We are just getting back to a good routine of a walk every morning after the kids leave for school, a walk that’s way too short and gets cancelled in rain or because of unseasonably cold temperatures. So, yes, berserk excitement at the concept of “out” is to be expected.

But he’s barking more in general. This spring we’ve been infested with spiders. And not small ones; the one I killed last night could have played Aragog in the Harry Potter movies. When the girls or I come upon one of these eight-legged beasts, we’re apt to squeal (or even yell at the top of our lungs). These vocalizations inevitably bring Our Best Friend racing into the room, barking his face off, ready to defend his family against whatever horror they face. And he’s hard to calm down, maybe because the threat is invisible to him, but he knows it’s there.

I’ve want to fix this. When I’m not rushed, I do what I’m supposed to do: I wait for a break in the barking, then praise and treat. I don’t put on the leash or take him out until he stops. He’s a tiny bit better, but as I’m the only one doing it, and I’m not doing it consistently, it’s easy for him to fall back into his barking ways. However, other than annoying the new tenants (who thus far haven’t complained, G-d bless them), the barking might drive us crazy but doesn’t actually hurt anyone. Last week, though, we had a stereotypical dog event that really shook me– he chased the mailman.

Our Best Friend and I had just returned from our morning walk. I have gotten into the bad habit of unclipping his leash from the collar right at the front door of the building. The house is a duplex; we live on the bottom, the tenants have the top, and we share an entrance, with a set of interior stairs leading first to our door, then up a flight to the tenant’s apartment. I hate being dragged up those stairs, so I unhook the leash and let him run up. This time, however, before I got the door open, he suddenly turned and hared off across the lawn, barking madly. I looked around to see our poor postman with his hands in the air, backing away slowly.

Mortified doesn’t cover it. I called the idiot dog, re-attached the leash, and apologized profusely. I made OBF sit on the lawn and watch the mailman put the letters in the box. Fortunately, he sat and watched without lunging or barking. I apologized six more times. He said, “We are trained to deal with this– don’t worry!” Too bad someone else wasn’t trained properly to deal with the mailman.

I was quite shaken; while it’s nice to know there’s a big, barky dog holding down the fort when three girls are home alone (and with a teenager in the house, I don’t have to pay for a babysitter anymore!), I don’t need him chasing random strangers. I don’t want any complaints about him made to the police. So far he’s never bitten anyone, not even another dog in a fight. But still, I’m scared of what he might do one day, all because he takes his role of protector of the realm too seriously.

This post is part of the Monday Mischief Bloghop, sponsored by Alfie’s Blog, Snoopy’s Dog Blog, Luna, a Dog’s Life, and My Brown Newfies Please click on any of the links to join in the fun! (Chasing the mailman is just mischief, right???)

1.  Describe yourself in 7 words: 

Me: Loyal, loving, funny, intelligent, empathic, talkaholic, and modest.

Our Best Friend: Loyal, affectionate, fun-loving, smart, shedding, too much barking, and cuddly.

2. What keeps you up at night?

Me: Don’t ask a life-long insomniac that question, ’cause the ultimate answer is “everything.”

OBF: Who asks a dog that? The answer is “nothing.”

3. Who would you like to be?

Me: No one but myself. I’m big believer about greener grass being an illusion.

OBF: I would like to be a big scary guard dog, ’cause that’s what I pretend to be whenever I hear someone at the door.

4. What are you wearing right now?

Me: I’m all gussied up for an engagement party. Not my normal denim skirt and top.

OBF: NOTHING. I’m a DOG. I get to be NEKKID ALL THE TIME.

5. What scares you?

Me: Something happening to my kids. Anything else I can deal with.

OBF: Not too much, I think. I get anxious a lot though. I need my people…

6. The best and worst of blogging.

Me: The best: Awesome other bloggers. The worst: Knowing you should be writing more, but running dry.

OBF: Blogging?

7. The last website I visited.

Me: Probably facebook. That’s pathetic.  Maybe theweathernetwork.com. That might be more pathetic.

OBF: Last thing I visited was the back yard, but it’s too cold for webs this time of year.

8. What is one thing I would change about myself?

Me: Greater self-confidence.

OBF: My person would go on more walks. I like walks.

9. Slankets yes or no.

Me: Uh… no. I don’t buy nothing sold on TV. Or “as seen on TV.”

OBF: I like blankies!

10. Tell us something about the dog(s) that tagged you.

Me: The dog what tagged me is one of my favourite on-line finds– another Commonwealther in a time zone so far away she always seems to be awake, no matter when I post.

OBF: Any dog tags me, I try to take a bite out of ‘em! I never do, though.

Okay, I’m probably supposed to tag someone else… so I’m sending this to The VSL Poltroon, who’s a big liar and never answers anything honestly. Tag, brother, you’re it.

While we were having our family discussion, Our Best Friend lay curled up on the bed in the middle of it all. Every time there was a lull in the discussion, he whimpered softly. It was as if he knew there were sad times afoot, and he was afraid of what the changes would mean for him.

The dog, of course, stays with me. It was The Spouse who insisted on taking him in; it was The Spouse who insisted on keeping him, in spite of Our Best Friend’s many flaws. I never wanted anything this big or emotionally messed-up. But now it’s me who’ll have him. And I guess I’ll get custody of the dog park too.

In the three years that we’ve had Our Best Friend, I don’t think The Spouse has ever taken him out alone. He’s gone on walks and to the dog park with me and with the children, but never just him and the dog. Of course all my dog park friends know him, and thanks to Ronnie he’s become a Modern Family addict, but I’m the one blogging about it.  And it will be me who will have to tell our dog park friends about our split.  Not that I plan to go there with a sign around my neck– I just have to answer questions like, “How’s The Spouse?” honestly. Or even questions like, “What’s new?” or “How are you?”

I can’t help wondering how they’ll react. Will they be as shocked as my “everyday” friends have been? (We both have a horror of public displays of dissent; nothing is more off-putting than couples who fight in public. The sturm und drang all happened in private, behind closed doors, and never in front of the kids.) Or will they have seen a different side of us? Will they have noticed that I was the “park presence” and he was more aloof? Did they sense the disconnect when I would stop to chat with friends, and he would go sit on a bench, or be on his cel the whole time we were “together?”

The children want their father to get a dog-friendly apartment so he can babysit Our Best Friend when necessary. As he works 18-hour days, I doubt that’s realistic, but it’s cute that they’re thinking about it. Right now it’s very civil and I hope it stays that way. We have no assets to fight over, and the kids are old enough to have a say in their living arrangements. I’m even staying in school (for now), at his insistence that I have to build a life and future for myself, even if it’s hard and he has to help me.

And I still have a man around the house. Even though he has four legs, fur, and is lacking some basic male anatomy, he’s the best cuddlebug ever. He loves to go on long walks, and lets me cry on his shoulder. He’s loyal, faithful, protective, and loving. And he doesn’t complain about having to kill bugs or catch mice. Really, what more could a girl ask for? He’s truly My Best Friend.

The kids were easy. As they had no desire to get up at 7:30 on a vacation day, we parcelled them out to friends for sleepovers starting Sunday night and carrying through all day Monday. All that remained was the dog.

Our Best Friend has only stayed with Kate, our “lady who does.” He lived with her for almost a week before she successfully foisted him on us, and she babysat him a handful of times before her life circumstances changed and we had start taking him with us on trips. The last time he stayed there, she found him a little taxing. He was “bothering the cats” she said… or maybe she said “driving them up the wall.” I don’t remember so good.

I wasn’t sure it was even necessary to get someone to take him for the day. I wasn’t leaving until around 10:00 in the morning, and the Spouse and kids would be back by 8:00 or 9:00. Still, I felt that ten to eleven hours all by himself was too much. How would you like to locked away alone, unable to pee, for ten hours? I can’t go ten hours without peeing. And he’s such a social dog. He needs people. I couldn’t bear to leave him alone that long, and most of all, he’s not used to it. So I asked My Dearest Friend to take him for the day.

My Dearest Friend certainly owed me the favour. We’ve been babysitting Blackie at least twice a year (and often more) for eight years; we’ve been babysitting Blackie and Duke together for three. So I didn’t feel awkward asking. As My Dearest Friend lives half-an-hour from me by car, I decided that, like the girls, he should go on Sunday; if I brought him over on Monday, it would add an hour of driving to my already long day.

I dropped Our Best Friend, with food and leash and all, around 2:30 in the afternoon. He  knew something was up. I heard him barking as we walked back to the car, but hoped he would settle down. I dropped the Youngest at her sleep-over, and the other two and I went to the mall. While shopping, I got this text:

Your dog just snapped at me

Uh oh, I thought. I texted back, “What happened exactly?  He’s prone to fear aggression.”

My daughter’s friend’s mom rang the door bell. And she is afraid of dogs. So I took him by his collar to bring him in the kitchen and he turned to bite me. Then he did the same to E when he tried but E told him no and then he let him hold just collar but not bring him to the kitchen

“E” is MDF’s Significant Other; he has a St. Bernard, and is no stranger to controlling a large dog. Pulling Our Best Friend by the collar is a huge no-no that I’d mistakenly neglected to tell MDF about; you can pull Duke and Blackie to Timbuktu without a problem, and she often does. I felt terrible. I phoned and offered to come get him, but she refused, saying Our Best Friend must have thought it was me at the door, and only got upset because he wasn’t allowed to go greet me. I left him there, but with huge misgivings.

I texted her the next night from out-of-town, telling her The Spouse had called and would be at her place in 20 minutes. I, meanwhile, was cuddled up with a purring cat at my friend’s house. She texted back,

My cats aren’t purring. Terrorized. I have had to keep them away from OBF. Who’s been attacking them. He goes completely insane every time he sees them move

Oh, crap, I thought. Now I was really sick. Kate had said he “drove the cats nuts,” but they never got hurt, even when she left them alone while she was at work. I assumed “driving them nuts” was an attempt at play, not destruction. But his behaviour here was so bad, MDF paid her son $10.00 to take Our Best Friend for walks so the cats could catch a break. My guilt knew no bounds.

The Spouse retrieved the dog, thanked her (I assume), and went on home. I told him to give her $10.00, but he forgot. I apologized by text, profusely; she texted back,

It was fine. Not such a big deal. Dont worry about this. Please

But I can’t help worrying. I know both My Dearest Friend and the cats survived, but obviously he can’t go back there. This is what you reap when you don’t have the time or money needed to train a dog effectively. I love Our Best Friend, but I don’t love that he’s still anxious and reactive. I hope I don’t need a dog-sitter again soon. He’s got nowhere to go and I’ve got no one to ask. Another little piece of stress in an already stress-filled life.

This post is part of the Saturday Pet Blogger Hop. Hop on here!

"I'm supposed to be on duty."

"But maybe no one will notice if I catch a little nap..."

When he’s awake, Puggy is a medical assistance dog, as well as a terrifically cute distraction during classes.  Thanks to his owner for permission to post.

The Walking Path

The entire perimeter path was a skating rink. The centre area was slippery snow. But Our Best Friend still enjoyed it!

"Ice? Who cares?!"

Well, as the path back to the car looked like this:

I did.

How much do I hate cold and winter?

When I left for school Monday morning, I hugged Our Best Friend and said, “We’re going to  the park Wednesday. Promise.” In fact, I kept thinking about it the whole time I was away, the anticipation of spending time with Our Best Friend chillin’ at our favourite hangout my motivational reward for adjusting to a new school routine.

I got home and “chillin’” was a little too literal. Today was -13° C (8.6° F), and colder with the wind. And there was wind, peeling the skin from your face. I spent most of the day running around, returning home around 3:45 to a dog almost berserk from loneliness after being by himself for most of three solid days.

Did I mention it was -13°? I had no compunction about breaking a promise I made to both of us, and planned a lovely excursion to the back yard hill.

Normally, Our Best Friend takes his cue from me. If I go stand at the back door, he comes to the back door. If he sees me pick up poop bags, he knows that means a walk or the park, and he goes mad barking with joy. Today, I headed to the back door, he walked to the front door, and sat down.

“OBF,” I called. “Come. We’re going out back.”

He sat a the front door, waiting, looking expectant, yet not barking.

I looked at him. It was 3:58. I had to pick up The Youngest at 4:30 from school, which is a 90 second drive from the dog park. Never, in almost three years, had Our Best Friend said, “No back yard. Not good enough. We’re going to the park.”

I took him to the park.

He got 20 whole minutes. I thought I would freeze to death, parka, mittens, long underwear, sweater, and all. There were three people and five dogs. An 18-month-old Shepherd tried to get cute with Our Best Friend, and OBF scared him to death with his vicious bark. (Nope, didn’t even come close to biting him… but King didn’t try anything funny again. In fact, when OBF tried to encourage play, King backed off.)  One man walked past to the gate, pooch in arms, saying to us, “You’re braver than we are– too cold for me!” I said, “Nope, he has five more minutes, then we’re DONE.”

OBF made the most of his time. He zoomed around like a crazy pup. He barked. He checked out the other two dogs wrestling on the far side. He gave King’s owner a little love. And by the time we left, I was an icicle.

I always say my next dog will be small, non-shedding, and female. My next home will be warm, sunny, and non-humid. Maybe a back yard pool instead of a sledding hill. A mango tree and warm tropical nights. Sure. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for Our Best Friend’s bedtime bathroom break on the sledding hill.

"Mmmm... Do I smell frozen squirrel?"

This post is part of the Saturday Pet Blogger Hop. Hop on!

1. Provide a link to your post from last year’s Pet Blogger Challenge so we can refresh our memories.

Here you go!

2. What do you consider the most important goals you set out in last year’s post?

I wanted more readers, and to exchange links. I never expected to be asked to guest post or be included on a list of top posts, both which happened last year!

3. Have you made progress toward those goals, or have your goals changed over the past year?

I definitely have more readers, but far fewer than I’d like. The readers I have are very loyal and supportive and I feel I’ve built a little community for myself… but my numbers really are quite tiny.

4. Has your opinion of blogging on a schedule or as the spirit moves you changed? Which are you doing now? Do you still worry about lost traffic, momentum, etc?

I have become even more aware of how important blogging regularly is, but that doesn’t mean I do it. I think once or twice a week should be the minimum, and there have been months where I put up two posts. That doesn’t engender readership.

5. Are you generating income from your blog? Has this changed since last year?

Nope and nope.

If you are generating income, how (e.g. sponsor ads, affiliate relationships, spokesperson opportunities)?If not currently, do you hope to in the future — and how?

I think I’ve given up on that one.

6. Have your likes and dislikes about blogging changed since last year?

Last year I wasn’t reading other blogs, as I hadn’t found them yet. For a while I very much enjoyed  reading, commenting, and building relationships. Then I found how easy it was to get overwhelmed and your blog folder spiral out of control. Deleting other people’s posts without reading them makes me feel guilty, and leaving them to be read “eventually” makes me feel pressured… This is a hobby, not a job, and it’s a delicate balance between being fun and being a burden.

7. Overall, are you pleased with the progress you made in 2011?

I love the new friends I have made, and hope to meet some of these people in real life one day!

8. How do you see your blog changing/growing in 2012?

If I can get into a better writing groove, maybe I can get more readers… or maybe I’ll just plug along and hope to be consistently entertaining for the loyal coterie of readers I have.

Here are the rules:

• Thank your Liebster Blog Award presenter on your blog.
• Link back to the blogger who awarded you.
• Give your top 5 picks for the award.
• Inform your top 5 by leaving a comment on their blog.
• Post the award on your blog.

So here goes:

• Thank you Jodi!
• The link is above.
• Here is the award:

Notice there are only three criteria filled.

My question is, how do we know how many subscribers anyone has? (Okay, anyone but me, who moans continually about low readership.)

I suppose loads of comments are a clue, but if someone routinely gets 30-50 comments per post, how many readers does that represent? I don’t know the formula for how many comments represents X number of readers.

I also don’t read that many blogs (she ducks her head in shame). So to whom do I pass this on? In a motion of defeat, I nominate any of my readers who fill the criteria. Take the award and run with it.

It’s the second bit of love that’s come my way this week. Today Kristine of Rescued Insanity listed The Old Man and the Dog at Sea as one of her favourite posts of 2011. I am both chuffed and honoured.

Our Best Friend and his BFF Blackie

Feeling appreciated is very important. Support from friends matters. I even see it with Our Best Friend. He became a different dog after spending a month with Blackie in the summer of 2009. I’ve become a different blogger thanks to my on-line supporters. I just hope the love continues when controversy flares or I stick my foot in it. It’s bound to happen sooner rather than later. Until then, I’m soakin’ up the love.