The puppies are smack dab in the middle of what I fondly refer to as their “Little Monsters” phase. That’s the phase where they bite feet, chew furniture, attack their elders and generally make you yell out “Hey, you! Puppy! Stop that!” every ten seconds.
Playtime now looks like a scene out of an extreme fighting video. All we need is a cage, and someone taking bets, and we could put it on pay per view.
Here’s a video of the puppies showing that their Kung Fu is strong.
Jellie Bean and Heart Making Crazy Faces
When Ellie first came home with Sean and I, she made her opinion of us quite clear – “You stink, and I want nothing to do with you”. Our first tentative attempts to coax her out of her crate were met with undisguised contempt and loathing, and we were left wondering if she’d ever warm up to us.
We knew she was growing to love us the day that she decided she wanted to eat dinner with us. Ellie and the dogs ate in the kitchen, two rooms away from the living room. Ellie was always a slow eater, still working her way through her kibble long after the other dogs were through, and usually Ellie would come and join us when she was finally done. One day, during dinner time, we noticed Ellie running back and forth from the kitchen to the living room. We finally figured it out – she was carrying her food out to us, one mouthful at a time, and eating it sitting beside us. Carry one mouthful out, chew, go back for more, repeat.
After that, it was Ellie’s dinner time ritual – she’d bring her food out so she could eat dinner next to us, and Sean and I finally fell head over heels in love with her.
Two days ago, while I was doing some cleaning in the puppy room, all of the pups were sleeping in a big pile in their bed except for Jellie Bean, who was still picking at her food. When I looked over at her, I noticed she was grabbing a mouthful of kibble, and then carrying it over to the edge of the pen, so she could sit and watch me while she was eating. My heart instantly broke into ten million tiny little pieces, and I will admit that I broke down and cried a little bit.
Every puppy that we have carries echoes of the dogs that came before them. Every litter has a moment when I am struck by a resemblance to another puppy, or another dog. Every time I send puppies home with their new families, I send pieces of myself along with them, and the memories of all the wonderful, beautiful, beloved dogs that are their families and their heritage.
In other heart breaking news, Dexter has gone off to Michigan, where he is about to embark on a dual career as lothario and show dog. He’s staying with our friend Sue Case, of Epic French Bulldogs, where he’s about to discover the joys of fatherhood (hopefully). After that, he’ll be hitting the show trail. We’ll post a list of his entries, so that anyone who is in the area can drop in and cheer my little man on. He’s a bit of a momma’s boy, so please be sure to give him an ear scratch and tummy rub from me if you see him!
Some new photos of the crazy kids (who really, really love their green crinkly tunnel!) are below, or over on Flickr.
Today, I was a terrible, horrible, awful dog mommy. I loaded the kids into a crate, popped them into the back of my Element, and hauled them all to the evil Vet’s office. There, a stranger poked them, prodded them, and finally jabbed them with a needle.
Poor puppies! Almost everyone bore it with typical French Bulldog stoicism, except for Pixie. Pixie, as we’ve discussed previously, has mastered the art of being the Saddest Dog in the Universe, and put it to good use today. She cowered on the table, shivered in terror, and yelped in pain when she got her vaccination. Pixie then turned her soulful moo cow eyes on me, with a look that obviously said “Why are you allowing these horrible things to happen to me? First, the bare floor. Now – this. The reign of terror never stops”.
I, of course, immediately felt like the evil monster that I so obviously am. Poor Pix has been using her sad dog Emo powers on me ever since she got home, and has parlayed it into being carried around tucked underneath my arm, like a fashionable clutch purse. She then watched the Sex and the City Movie with me (and she agreed that Carrie should have told Big to get bent once and for all. Pixie is a pragmatist).
I then fed all of the puppies tiny dishes of frozen yogurt (courtesy of Pixie’s new daddy), and contemplated the fact that I am personally responsible for unleashing a small army of spoiled rotten puppies onto an unsuspecting world.
C’est la vie.
I am SO FAR BEHIND on email that it’s not even funny. I swear I haven’t even looked at my inbox for a week, since I am having a really hard time juggling working ‘outside’ the house with web stuff. Let’s face it, it’s a lot easier to keep up with your email when your job consists of sitting in front of a computer for ten hours a day. It’s not so easy when your job involves working for someone else – someone who might object to paying you a salary while you surf the web and answer emails.
All of this is in aid of saying “I know I owe most of you emails!! I know that people want to know more about the Jamboree (I’m meeting with them on Wednesday – more details, including final rates and a code to use when booking your room, will be posted on Friday). I know that people have emailed with questions about puppies. I know, I know, I know! Bear with me, I’m getting to them all a bit at a time…
Last night, I let Paris jump up on my lap, and recoiled in horror when she promptly deposited a puppy sized clump of hair on my shirt. She’s in the middle of a shedding cycle, big time, likely hormonal since I doubt that the freezing weather has kicked her into shedding her winter coat.
I decided to take her into the dog room and go over her with the furminator, and after 20 minutes of grooming, using everything from the furminator to the shedding rake to the curry comb, this is what I ended up with —
For the final touch, I went over her with the shop vac – seriously. She’s such a good girl! She just stood there while I sucked the rest of the loose hair out of her coat. I can finally touch her without a giant cloud of hair floating up into the air, although I’m sure she’ll need another go over tomorrow. Bear that in mind the next time someone tries to tell you that Frenchies don’t shed.
When we moved to this house, we relegated all of the crappy pine furniture to the basement, on the theory that we don’t really care if puppies gnaw on it. This includes the Leksvik coffee table, which has since become a great favorite with every single puppy that has come through our house.
In my opinion, the puppies haven’t really graduated from cute kids to budding junior trouble makers until someone makes it into – and then through – the coffee table. It tends to happen all at once – one minute, the table doesn’t even register on their radar, the next minute, puppies are tumbling through it like lemmings over a cliff. This weekend, Heart suddenly decided that the table was her FAVORITE THING in the world, and she was followed quickly by Jellie Bean, who also decided it would make a wonderful place for naps.
Butters followed Jellie, although Jellie Bean seemed less than thrilled about sharing her new ‘special place’. As usual, it was inconceivable for the puppies to use one of the other openings in the table – no, they have to be in the same opening that the other puppy is inside of.
An hour later, as I went to put the puppies away, I had a hard time finding Butters. She turned up inside the table, passed out and sound asleep, and looking pretty comfortable. I didn’t want to wake her up, but this photo was just too cute to pass up.
The rest of the photos are over on Flickr. OK, back to email catch up…
I think it’s important that puppies get exposed to lots of stuff – as much stuff as possible, in fact. I pop them in the playpen before I vaccuum. I keep them out when I have guests, so that they meet people. I give them crate time. I put little collars on them, and let them drag around a leash. I do as much I can to acclimate them to ‘real world’ situations, other than start their table training (because I’m a slacker, and I suck at training Frenchies to stand for the table).
For this litter, I really lucked out with an item I picked up from the discount section of Pet Edge. It’s a cat tunnel – a simple tube of velour, meant for cats to climb in and out of of. It has a hole in the middle, and the ends of the tube are filled with stiff, crinkly fabric that makes interesting noises.
I popped the tunnel down on the floor, and unleashed the puppies.
Initial response? Trepidation.
Followed by curiosity.
On the heels of which comes the discovery that – hey! It makes noises!
And you can climb on it!
Followed by the discovery that, for the brave, you can climb in it.
Finally, the puppies discovered that, with a team effort, you can roll it across the floor, lumberjack and log style. This proved very popular, especially when it was rolled with Thor inside.
The whole photo set is over on Flickr. Oh, and a bonus set – sleepy puppies.
Oh, and if you check on Blip? There just might a new movie.