Home Sweet Home

Well, it's been 10 days since I've seen the boys - and the hubby.  I wonder what beautiful mess awaits me at home.  Hopefully Jason has worked enough hours not to cause too much damage - hopefully being the operative word.  I shall find out in, oh say about seven hours.  I'll keep my fingers crossed - at least until I have to hand over my boarding pass and buckle my seat belt. 

Feeding the Beasts

One would think that two 90+ lb dogs would be fairly easy to feed.  Think again. As of last Monday it has become a bit of a mind game with the boys to make them eat.

Let me give you a little bit of background info first.  We feed the boys twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening (breakfast and supper).  They each get two and a half scoops of Pedigree Adult formula. And let me tell you - this stuff is not cheap! They go through a 40lb bag in one week.  It's ka-ray-zee!  

Anyway, Toby (the youngest) doesn't really care if he eats or not. He's pretty much 90lbs of muscle.  He will sit in front of his bowl and * stare at the food then stare out the window then stare at Max then stare at me then stare out the window - and repeat from * 2 times.  I have to constantly say "Food" and point my finger at his bowl to make him eat.  Occasionally it's so bad that I have to put some of the food in my hand in order for him to eat.

Max on the other hand, can't wait to get his food set down before him.  From the moment he sees me go to the dining room and grab their food container he begins growing a beard of saliva that would flood a small village.  And as soon as I yell "Okay Boys!" he is the first to run to the dining room, sliding across the wood floors and banging into end tables in the process.  You better steer clear of his pathway when it's feeding time.  Once he reaches his destination (food) he makes these garbled goobly gob noises as he munches down his meal, nearly choking between bites.

Well . . . . . everything changed this week.  On Tuesday or Wednesday (can't remember days anymore), when I fed the boys they both just sat in front of their bowls and *stared at their food then stared out the window then stared at each other then stared at me then stared out the window - repeat from * 2 times.  I figure that Max has been observing what Toby has been doing and noticed that Toby gets a lot more attention at feeding time.  Sooooo now Max wants some of that attention.  Sigh .. *&%Scream!! Arrrgggg! *&%Scream!!

Once my head spun back to the forward position, I took their food bowls away from them and made them go to their kennels.  It was for their own safety.  I gave them their food again an hour later.  They ate it this time.

The next day, we went through the same rigmarole all over again.  Except when I gave their food back to them the 2nd time they still would not eat it.  So I scratched my head a few times and decided that maybe they don't like the taste of their food anymore.  Hmmm . . . So I decided to mix in a little bit of chicken broth with their food (just a little bit).  Voila! There in lies the rub!  They ate their food.  

Well, this isn't exactly a precedent that we want to set.  So on Thursday I decided to try a different approach.  I fed Toby out of Max's bowl and vice versa.  This actually worked! Yay me!  I just figured that since they were now siblings, they would each want what the other one has even if it is the same thing.  Well, come Thursday night they were on to me and we were back to the staring and not eating thing again.  In an attempt to salvage my sanity I broke down and put broth in their food again.  They loved it - yes, they played me.  I know.  But of course, we cannot continue to line their bowls with that yummy chicken broth.

Here comes a final attempt to make them eat their food when we want them to eat it and not the other way around.  This morning my husband and I took them both for a run before giving them breakfast.  They worked their cropped little tails off.  Toby went for a 2.5 mile run and Max went for a 1.5 mile run.  Max is older and not really used to physical activity so we have to be easier on him for now.  As soon as we got home and got our stretches out of the way we put some food in their bowls and they chowed down!  Success.  

Moral of the story is - your dog is smarter than you - WAAAYY smarter than you. I think that they wanted us to take them for a run in the morning and this whole not eating thing was simply a means to an end for them. 

It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring . . . . . .

Max performing his newest cantata in the key of D with a few tummy rumbles thrown in. 

Continued from Boys will be Boys . . .

Peace is a five letter word that usually last for about five minutes . . .

See Toby's ears?  That means his speed radar is on . .

Here's a closer look for those of you with small computer screens

Ahh Max.  He's such a good boy.

And what can I say about this one? I think Max was telling Toby to chill out.

Priceless . . This is what Happiness looks like.

Boys will be boys . . . .

It was a snow day here in Colorado Springs. Toby and Max both enjoyed it and I, being me, couldn't help myself. I took about 30 pics of the two of them - watching the snow, wrestling, and then sitting around. I know, it's sad, but I couldn't help myself and they practically begged me to do it. And this is where it all began, our afternoon of snow . . . . . .

 First, Max's and Toby's curiosity is peaked by the white flaky stuff falling from the sky . . . 

Max seems content just looking out the window.  It's the old man in him . . . 

Toby, however, wants to go outside and play in the white fluffy stuff. Bubbles have the exact same effect on him . . .

Toby, standing up to the snow flakes, showing them who's boss . . .

You don't want to know what he was getting ready to do . . on the snow . . .

So, without fail, as soon as Toby comes inside he heads directly to Max. And as little brothers often do, he starts pestering Max . . .

And let the games begin . . .

Things may look calm now, but just give it a minute.  Trust me . . .

And we're off . . . . see that blurry mess? That's Toby coming off the couch and lunging at Max.

The wrestling went on for about 20 minutes. Max finally decided to lay down. The old man in him is tired . . .

Finally, Toby lays down - still talking smack to Max . . .

And I will have to post the last few images in a second post.  I guess I've taken up too  much space in this one.

To be continued . . . .

Too bad dogs can't fold clothes . . . . oh well, one day.

UFC in the Morris household

DING DING DING!!!  

Well, last night was the first real fight the boys have ever had - and it frightened me.  I don't like to see fights - especially between family members, and the boys are brothers now.  So, what started the fight?  Well, we bought 2 rawhide bones, one for each dog.  Somehow Max kept taking both bones to his kennel and hoarding them for himself.  So, I was constantly retrieving Toby's bone for him.  At one point Toby took his to the kitchen and laid it on the floor.  Now, picture this:  Toby on one side of the counter, me on the other, Max in between us at the end of the counter, and Toby's bone laying inches in front of me.  Both dogs were sitting pretty when I called Toby over to my side of the counter.  As soon as he crossed in front of Max, Max attacked him. I guess it was bound to happen.  We just didn't realize that Max was so aggressive over toys.  They've been living together for 2+ weeks now and have not had one of those boundary setting fights yet. I guess we should have expected it.Needless to say, both bones are now stashed away in the pantry.   So, with a few cuts and a shiner, Toby steered clear of Max for the remainder of the evening.  He was still a little skiddish of Max this morning, but it seems to be more out of respect for Max's space. 

The moral of the story is:  Siblings are going to fight - we just have to be there to break it up and send them to their separate corners. If we ever give them rawhide bones (emphasis on the IF) it will be separately and in their own kennels where they will stay while enjoying their treat. And that is the best we can do.    

You Hognose Snake You

After a week of observing the boys play wrestling, I have come to the conclusion that Max is a Hognose Snake. Not in the sense that we sometimes (ok, often times) call men snakes, but because of the fact that he hisses when he and Toby wrestle.  I wasn't sure which end the noise was coming from at first because Max has a habit of tooting his horn on a regular basis.  And from what I've been told, he doesn't just toot, he can easily clear a room. This is one of the reasons I am thankful for not being able to smell.  I'm sure there will be more reasons the more I get to know Max, but for now I count my blessings. After intense observation I came to the conclusion that it was coming from the northern end. Thank goodness - for Toby's sake. 

Sit Ubu. Sit. Good dog.

Too bad their names are not Ubu.

Toby's 1st Birthday!

So, Toby turned one yesterday!  Yay! No more whining and chewing up shoes or not coming when you say "come".  That's the way it should be, right? Wrong!  He's got a few more years to go.  Sigh.  Is this what it will be like with kids - real kids??

Singing Happy Birthday to Toby

I think he likes it - steamed rice with hamburger and a little bit of Pedigree.  Don't worry, Max got his own bowl of doggy heaven.

Can I just say that crotch sniffing is only cute the first time around. After a while it tends to give you a complex.

In the Beginning . . .

Let me begin by giving you a little background information on the boys. We've had Toby for almost a year now. He is still in puppy mode and must have your full attention at all times. This was cute and adorable for let's say the first 8 months. But when he became as long as I am tall and gave me more bruises than kisses, we decided that it was time to get him a play buddy. So, 4 days and 6 hours ago we adopted Max, a 7 year old doberman, from the local Doberman Rescue. So not only do we have one child (by child I mean dog), we have two - three if you count the hubby (shhhh . . .). If you enjoy man's best friend and find their behavior even mildly entertaining, you may just laugh at Toby and Max.

Stuff we say to our dogs

Hey, stop biting his ears! If he bites you back I won't help you.

You have your bone and he has his. So stop taking each others!!

Go tell your daddy that mommy wants some cookies and that he should bake them for her.

Toby, they call it a laptop, not a nosetop. So your nose needs to go somewhere else.