Labradoris

"Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience. The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm , petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, 'I know why.' Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. He said, 'People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?' The six-year-old continued, 'Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.'"
-Anonymous

This is who we are picking up tomorrow afternoon.  He's pictured at 4 weeks old here, courtesy of his breeder.
We aren't settled on a name yet.  We're waiting until we've interacted with him a little before we decide.  So right now, he's just called Puppy.
ISN'T HE CUTE?!?!  My Labradoris meter is firing somethin' fierce!!

Cosette's friend Harley came over for the last time last night because he is moving to CA with his owner, my friend.  He and Cosette played last night, but mostly Harley took distinct pleasure in carrying one of Cosette's discarded Nylabone Rings in his mouth all night.  And giving me the evil eye.  He's a teacup Chihuahua so I guess he can get away with it THIS TIME. 

I thought this was a nice link.  How to safely introduce your child (and yourself) to an unfamiliar dog.

I've had three types of interactions when it comes to Cosette: 
1 - people are indifferent and just take note of her, if at all
2 - people see a large black dog and are instantly fearful
3 - people are overly friendly, and assume that is safe to pet her

I much prefer #1 and #2 to be completely honest.  Even though she'd only lick you to death, I don't mind that if I'm walking down the street alone, someone would be afraid of her.  That's okay with me.  #3 I'm a bit more persnickety about.

It's okay with me if someone wants to pet Cosette, but I would also prefer to see people like myself come up to pet her -- athletic dog lovers that could push a dog off if they needed to.  Cosette is fairly well-behaved, with the exception of meeting a new person.  She tends to get very hyper very quickly, and if I'm not paying 100% attention to her, she has been known to jump up (a habit I despise and have had trouble breaking her of).  She's also just a big Lab, which means even when she isn't jumping, she can be wiggly and energetic.  That's not a comfortable zone for me when a young child wants to come up and pet her.  I'm afraid she'll accidentally knock them down.  Or, if an adult wants to pet her, they suddenly will become very offended if she dares lick their hand or leans into the legs.  I'll end up getting dirty looks, and I think, you know, you could have just not come over here and left us alone.  I don't know.  I'm kind of split on the issue.
I know personally that if I see a calm, well-behaved dog in a store or out and about, I may ask to pet the dog (like a gigantic Dane I saw a few weeks ago).  But, if the dog is straining at their leash, acting goofy, or otherwise bad mannered, I'm less likely to do that (in fact, very unlikely) because of the stress I may cause to the owners.

Cosette is trained and 90% well-behaved, except for the occasional "HOLY CRAP I'M A LAB" feeling she goes through.  So if you ever see us out together, be sure and ask, "Hey, is it okay if I pet your dog?"  I'll really appreciate it, and hopefully be able to give you a good experience with my dog.

Yesterday my doctoral program flung open its doors, let some sunshine in, and asked prospective students come for a visit.  We host this event annually, and the prospective students make camp at various current students’ residences.  Since I have a house with a spare bedroom, I tend to be more willing to loan the space so the person won’t have to sleep on a couch.  
Part of this process is to have a potluck dinner at the program director’s house.  She has a beautiful residence that lends itself well to hosting events, and we all bring dishes to share.  Joel and I planned to bring chorizo empanadillas, stuffed pimientos, spinach and feta hummus, and Russian salad, plus wine from local vineyards.  
I had made the Russian salad the night before in order for it to chill in the fridge overnight.  I cleaned up the kitchen as my guest arrived, and we chatted about her experiences in her master’s program and mine in my doctoral program.  The next day brought with it a busy schedule, and I left my guest with the open house commitments as I went off to teach and make some attempt at progress in my day.  
Joel and I went back to the house in the afternoon to make the rest of the dishes.  I had already forgotten the pita bread to accompany my hummus, so Joel volunteered to make a run to the grocery store.  I worked diligently on the two additional dishes I was prepping, and set the stuffed pimientos in the fridge to chill for two hours.  Joel returned back with the pita, and I took an entire package and began cutting the pieces into triangles, perfect for hummus loading.  I stacked them all neatly in rows, and left them on the cutting board so I could heat them up later.  
I walked to my office to respond to a few e-mails that were piling up, and then walked back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up what I wouldn’t use any more.  I glanced around the kitchen, and my eyes settled on the cutting board.  Only one row of pita was there, and it was knocked over.  I frowned, and looked around confused.  Had Joel already put them in the oven?  No.  I went and found Joel and asked, “Did you do anything with the pita?”  He confusingly responded, “Nooo…why?”  I wheeled around to where Cosette was standing in the doorway, watching curiously.  I extended my arm and pointed my finger.  “COSETTE?  DID YOU EAT THE PITA?!?”  She briefly wagged her tail and then stopped.  Her head drooped.  I turned to Joel.  “Cosette ate the pita.”  “She ate the pita?”  “She ate the pita.”  
I deduced that showing up to a party with hummus but without pita bread would not be acceptable.  I quickly grabbed my purse and my keys, and headed back to the grocery store.  I bought two packages, just in case the disastrous happened.  The newly-bought pita was again cut into triangles and added to the party trays.  The dinner was fine, and everyone enjoyed the various dishes.
Then, we came home.  Cosette bounced around wildly for about an hour, willing us to feed her dinner.  It was late in the evening, and I just thought, “You know, dog, you can deal with a later dinnertime because your tummy is full of pita!”  I ended up feeding her about a cup of dry food after she calmed down.   I undressed, and I took off my knee-high hose and placed them outside my bedroom door, as Cosette has a history of eating one or two or thirty of my knee-high hose.  I usually scoop them up in the morning and take them into the laundry room.  Last night, however, I put them outside the door, then went into the kitchen to drink some water.  I walked back towards my bedroom, and Cosette was nosing the hose.  I yelped, “No!” but it was already too late.  She had swallowed one of the hose and was licking the other.  I threw away the leftover sock, and ushered her into my bedroom.
At 1:45 a.m., I heard her beside my bed, starting with what sounded like farts but following with a squirty sound.  I rose from my slumber, my hair and limbs askew, and looked down where she was at.  I saw two dark puddles shining in the ambient light in the room, and I groaned.  “Pita diarrhea?”  I walked over to the door to grab my robe, and right as I was opening the door, I put my foot in something cold and runny.  I would have paid serious money to see the look on my face.  I hopped to the bathroom to run my foot under the bath, and looked at Cosette standing in the doorway.  “This is totally your fault, pita dog.”  I finished washing the poop off my foot, and took her outside, where she strained for several minutes.  She finally came back inside, and I put her in the (tiled) kitchen and pulled up all the rugs.  “Sorry girl, I know you don’t feel good, but I don’t want to clean up any more carpet messes and I think you are still sick.”  I closed the door gently and returned t o my bedroom to clean up the mess.
In the morning, we returned to the kitchen to find multiple puddles of vomit and diarrhea.   She was let outside, and then we let her lie on her dog bed in the spare bedroom while Joel cleaned up the mess with paper towels and Simple Green, which is a marvelous product.  I sat down next to her, stroking her soft fur.  Her stomach began heaving and she started to cough, and I urged her up and walked her over to the kitchen tile, where she vomited again.  We cleaned up the new mess, and then brought her doggie bed into the kitchen.  I sat down on it and asked her to lay down next to me, to which she happily obliged.  
I feel very bad for my dog when she becomes sick – for whatever reason – and much like a child, she seems more vulnerable and soft when she’s sick.  I covered her up in a blanket as I sat stroking her, cuddling up to her, telling her it was okay.  She’s currently curled up the kitchen, recovering.  Joel and I started talking about what was in her various piles in the kitchen that he had cleaned up, and realized she had thrown up the knee-high hose and a part of a rib bone.  Ouch.  It total, we figured out that she had eaten breakfast  of dog food that morning, about a teaspoonful of goat cheese, a bit of leftover teriyaki chicken (both things placed into her bowl – she is not allowed to beg), a rib bone, 5 rows of chopped pita bread (so about 50 pieces), a cup of dog food for late dinner, and a knee-high hose.  I don’t blame her.  I’d have it coming out both ends if I had eaten all that.  

Joel bought a book for me entitled Winery Dogs, and as a frequent visitor to wineries, I concur with the quote, "You can't make wine without a dog."  They are an integral part of a winery and all good wineries have one (or more!).  The even better wineries let you bring your own dogs to sit with you as you enjoy the afternoon.

When I traveled to Missouri, I went to one of my favorite wineries.  They have several dogs, two of which are Labs. 

Exhibit A:  Boomer, a.k.a. "Goober!"

Exhibit B:  Luke, a.k.a. The Parking Attendant, The Ultimate Ruler and Supreme Master of the Guests of the Winery

Luke, sniffing wine and getting drunk and passing out by my chair.  Just kidding.  He loved the constant petting.

It's not a bad life for a dog at a winery. 

This past weekend I traveled to visit Cosette's breeder.  Cosette's older sister, Lacy, was bred last fall and she delivered about 4.5 weeks ago. 

Two male chocolates, one female chocolate, two male blacks, one female black.  Lacy is yellow and the sire is chocolate.

The photo below is the little Lab we have earmarked for us.  He's a deep, rich chocolate color and was very mellow as I held him.  The puppies just started walking and opening their eyes a few short weeks ago, so it's hard to tell their personalities as of yet, but he was laid back compared with some of his litter mates.

This is puppy climbing through his litter mates to lie down and take a nap.  He's the only one standing.  :)

Here is puppy and I.  He was so cute and just snuggled right up into me and fell asleep after a while.  So precious!!

Cosette at 3.5 months.

I will be gone to Missouri this weekend to visit Cosette's breeder (among other things).  Hopefully I will come back with tons of puppy pictures!!  Enjoy your weekend.

Y'all, I am having some serious puppy withdrawals.  I've been going back through the picture and video archives and reminiscing about puppy time with Cosette.  I think until these pups are old enough to come home, I am going to be in need of serious puppy fixes.  Just go ahead and start an I.V. drip of puppy cuteness, because I am addicted.

(Pictured at 2.5 weeks)

This is a photo to complement my post the other day about Cosette at the winery.