Category: Life

Mia Helps

Mia has been here just a little under five weeks, but figured one thing out almost immediately. Twice a day, after the horses get fed, the dogs get fed. Therefore, in Mia’s view, it is critical that she helps me get out to the barn to feed the horses. This isn’t so bad in the morning, but in the afternoon Mia starts about 3:00 (and I don’t normally feed the horses until 6:00.) First, she sits by me and looks intensely at my face. When that doesn’t work, she insinuates the top half of her body into my lap, with the same concentrated stare into my eyes. Any time I actually get up, she starts doing her happy dance, and trying to lead me to the door.

Occasionally, I tactlessly go to the mudroom (which is also our laundry room) for some reason, and then go back into the house instead of continuing on to the barn. When that happens, Mia looks somewhat baffled, as though she is thinking “Damn, I got her to the mudroom, now how do I manage the next step?”

Betrayal

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This is not Mia, but a photo of the St Patrick’s Day card that my vet brought today when she came to pay Mia a visit. Mia was not amused, despite the vet telling her how cute she was. Everything had been going so well, and now this complete stranger was trying to feel her up. The nerve!

Mia has what appears to be a lipoma on her left side. To me, it felt similar to one that our long ago Golden Retriever Mags had, except for its location. Fortunately, my vet agrees (99.97% sure) and feels that it should be left alone unless it starts to bother Mia.

Mia sulked while I finished talking to the vet (who is also a personal friend) and was inclined to eye me suspiciously for a while after the vet left. However, when I made lunch, Mia came to assure me there were no hard feelings, and a little snack would make her feel much better.

Commiseration

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Folly, the black cat, seems to be commiserating with Brody, who had stifle surgery on Thursday. (There is also a Jack Russell Terrier named Jamie in this photo, almost blocked by the elizabethan collar.) Brody and Folly belong to a friend of ours, who is still shell-shocked by the news, after surgery, that Brody would have to be kept on a leash for twelve to sixteen weeks. The vet had neglected to mention that aspect in the pre-surgical briefing. Yesterday, Jack and I took down the portable fence panels that partitioned our dog run, and used them to build a small pen in our friend’s back yard so Brody would have a place outside where could be put for brief periods.

do re Mia

Mia seems to be making herself at home: by sleeping on our furniture, while sorting through our wastepaper baskets, and by retrieving items that I would have thought would be out of reach of a small, elderly Dalmation. She may be eleven, but she is still agile. Fortunately, at one point I was trained by much larger Dobermans, who were even more agile, and I imagine I will pick up the knack of dog proofing the house again.

I lost track of her last night, and had a panicky few moments before I thought to call downstairs on the intercom to discover, that yes, she was down there with Jack. I would say she is bonding with us fairly well, though I suspect from Mia’s point of view, she is making sure that the human residents are firmly under her little paw.

Lody continues to be very accepting of her. Last night, the two dogs looked like they were even thinking about playing with each other but decided not to rush into anything. There are quite a few dog toys strewn around the exercise room right now: toys that Lody had ignored for months but is now getting out of the toy basket to see if she can mix things up a bit.