Rolling Rover Over

Me 'n Bunnie 'n Zoe

A few days ago I wrote about the hectic life of living with four dogs. It came off sounding like all they are is trouble. While bounding high energy and noise is one side of it, here’s the up side.

Bunnie is my sweetie and a great cuddler (can you tell from the picture?). She was born here. At about a year old we became inseparable. She’s smart and thinks she’s better than the other dogs. She is way too protective of me. Her dad, Gulliver, has been with us since he was 8 weeks old. Unlike Bunnie, Gully is all dog. He loves to romp and play and has no subtlety. Both he and Bunnie are a joy to watch running. He uses his noodle to get food and get along. That’s it. He's great to everyone. Same thing with Maddie. At 2 she’s just getting over puppyhood. She goes to work with Tish, works for her at the training center, and stands on our kitchen table for a better look out the window. She’s all over everyone with affection.

Last and most amazing is Zoe, the one Tish calls “Miss P” the perfect girl. She’s a natural dominant dog which meant she always kept the other dogs in line like a kind but firm den mother. An amazing instinct and brain all wrapped up in one dog. For years Tish took her into schools and nursing homes as visiting companion and for dog bite safety classes. She learned agility and tricks and was so bright eyed that you could see her brains working while she figured out some really complex puzzles. I drew the line on teaching her to open the fridge. She’s 14 now. All her littermates are gone but she's still healthy, clear eyed and keeps up with the other dogs running around the yard. She’s developed some serious anxieties in old age (who hasn’t) which makes her pace and pant and fret.

Kit especially loves the dogs and they love him back. He plays with them and buries them with affection. Tio has always been wary of their noise and high energy but he’s warming up, too. Even Doc is learning how to tell them to sit, go away, and settle down.

Having this many dogs living in one house is always a challenge because of proximity but we’ve got a good group. As three-fifths of our household along with the humans that make up our madhouse, we jostle and fit and get along and bug each other to death all at the same time. You know, a family.

What else is new?

The Pitter Pat of 16 Tiny Feet.

Dogs have been an integral part of my life since boyhood and especially since I met Tish. In fact we met because our puppies got entangled in front of my house one day. Actually, it goes back further. I rented that house because they allowed dogs. Doggy destiny if ever there was one. None of that cute little tale prepared me for the canine onslaught to come.

For the past 20 years we’ve had as many as six dogs at a time all living in the house. Right now we have four Australian Shepherds. I’ve had hot and cold relationship with them, the constant noise level on one end and loving to cuddle and watch them interact with each other at the other, the constant attention they need, the never quite sleeping attention they give. Tish adores them and because of them she’s become a professional canine behavior specialist.

But, man, what a learning curve. Constant noise, dog fights, dog bites, puke and dirty dog yards. A bed full of animals while we slept, a sofa crammed with fur, lapping tongues and noses when we hang out. Then there’s the floor covered with them constantly around our feet like a flock of sheep. Getting in synch with them wasn’t easy. There’s a rhythm to living with dogs to keep your own sanity and to keep them getting along in the house. Some of them never get along. I’ve torn up my share of fights and Tish has a constant fresh bite on one hand or the other from dogs at work. I remember once holding one high in the air while another hung on by her teeth, both of them suspended off the ground. It was like trying to pull taffy apart. That is, if taffy screamed and squirmed and bit and bled. We have a series of gates around the house to separate them when they don’t get along or one is in heat. Walking through our house is like prep for a hurdle race. Always lifting a leg over a barrier and opening others. If they had a hurdle event where you jump them while carrying two hot dinners and a beer, I’d win the Olympics.

So here we are all these years later and I’ve finally found my place with the dogs. Often, I’ve had one special dog that was mine alone and right now that dog is Bunnie. She’s a sweetheart of a pup but overprotective of me. That’s my fault and our resident canine expert tells me I need to do something about it. I agree totally but with all the other things going on in this house, who has time to train a dog, too?

Enter the grandsons and talk about a whirl of activity all the time. Kit likes the dogs the most, Tio the least. Doc sees them as background noise. Background, my left eye! They bark when a car goes by, they bark and jump when someone comes home, they bark at the wind blowing and they bark at each other. I don’t mean a pleasant little woof, either. I mean a cacophony of slathering, roof raising ruckus that dulls the senses and makes hearing anything else in life someone else’s enjoyment. “Be quiet!” “Shut UP!” “Leave it!” “Go lie down.” all join in as part of the chant to bring the total decibel level up to four dogs yapping and a group of humans yapping back.

I actually do love the whacked out beasts. Some days more than others but they’re definitely an important part of the insanity in our lives. Someday’s I do wonder what a quiet retiring life might be like. Tish has dreams of building a yurt on an undisclosed location that she and I can get away to.

I bet she’d want to bring the dogs.