"Let Sleeping Dogs Lie" with me

There are those people whose dog sleeps on a rug on the floor, in a crate or under their master's bed. And then there are those of us who have stepped over a line. Our dogs sleep in the bed with us. They lie curled outside the covers at our feet. They lie on top of the covers next to us. Sometimes they are under the covers with their heads on the pillow next to ours.
Misha sleeps between Aldo and me in our bed. At times he curls at the bottom near our feet. In the morning however he has always inched his way up to my face. He nestles his nose under my chin and begins to lick me awake. There are few things that have ever pleased me so much. I love everything about sleeping with him.
I love to hear him sigh as he falls asleep at bedtime. I love feeling his weight against my leg or back in the night. I love jockeying for the most comfortable position as the 3 of us toss and turn. I love thinking of him first thing every day. The most compelling thing about it all is his desire to be with me. His satisfaction and contentment at just being by my side makes the world a better place for me to wake up to.

A Tale (tail) to Tell

A dog's tail can tell you what your dog is feeling from moment to moment. In Misha's case when he is hunting rabbits his tail sticks out straight behind him. The hairs decending from it never move unless a breeze blows by.
Lots of dogs have beautiful tails. Though many spaniels have their tails docked I've wondered if Misha could be part Cavalier King Charles Spaniel? Their tail is extraordinarily beautiful.
The rescue group that picked up Misha from North Carolina and put his picture on Petfinder said that he was a "Corgi/Spaniel" mix. Spaniels are small sporting dogs. They are used to retrieve a bird after it has been shot by a hunter. Their usual white with brown markings (which Misha also has) would distinguish them in the field from a fox or other wildlife. Spaniels have very soft coats (except for the Brittany spaniel) and so does my Misha. Their mouths are very soft too so that when the dog brings the bird back to it's owner the bird is not injured by the dog's teeth. The gentle folds of skin around the mouth protect the hunter's kill. Misha's instinct to point and tiptoe toward small creatures may come from a spaniel heritage.
The Cavalier King Charles Spaniel is not really in the sporting group though. It is a toy dog, bred to be a companion. They have a small carriage and look like the proverbial puppy with huge eyes and a smilely countenance. It's tail is long and flowing, elegant and so very soft to the touch. Sometimes Misha just wags the teeny tiny tip of his tail in answer to a question I pose to him. I think dogs can use their tails rather like sign language and if we watch carefully maybe we can learn the language fluently.

Reflections on art and dogs and me

Gustave Courbet painted wonderful paintings of landscapes, nudes, portraits, and all kinds of animals. My favorites of his paintings are of course, his dogs. Last year Aldo and I went to a Courbet show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. We went from room to room in awe of the talent, the vision, the hand that created the work.
I found one that was of a greyhound sleeping. I could not find a picture of it on the internet to show you but I found a few others. Last night I sat on the couch with Aldo and Misha. Aldo was watching a movie and I was watching Misha. The place where I was sitting gave me a fantastic view of my sleeping pup. His tail and rear end were closest to me so he was forshortened as my eyes moved over his body and legs to his head. I went over and over the lines and shapes, redrawing them in my mind. It is the sizes and distances of shapes, their relationship to one another that are the important things. If I screw up either one the likeness will not be true. For me, it is the most enthralling puzzle in the world. How does that little piece of leg show up under the other one? How does the paw fit where it is? If I can't see his eyes is it because I am mostly seeing under his chin? Will my drawing look like my Misha? It is a compelling problem for me and one I never tire of. How does the light hit his head and where does a shadow begin? Drawing is everything. I have always felt that if I could really draw the relationships between the parts I will have truly done something. That is why I keep on being an artist.

Perhaps life can be about finding what is really important to you and then deciding what do you do about it? Vincent Van Gogh said "The best way to know life is to love many things" I could not agree more.

Misha has a friend

Misha has made a friend. Niles (the dachshund) owns my friend Lola. Lola admits that she became Niles pet willingly. She walks him, plays with him, amuses him, and buys him treats and toys. Lola carries Niles in her arms when it is hot outside and he doesn't want to walk. I do that with Misha too. Misha lolls his head back in my arms and smiles "Thanks Miranda" the smile seems to say.

Niles is a long haired dachshund. He and Misha seemed to hit it off right away. They are kindred souls. Each knows how to control and yet pamper their pet human. They are masters of their craft. Both of them use their soulful eyes to beg, barter and steal from toys to affection. They make up games. Niles made up a great game the other day. He stole a red pepper from Lola's shopping bag and tore it up all over the sofa. Lola was thrilled because it gave her that always appreciated bending and stretching exercise to find all the little pieces of pepper.

Misha taught Niles how to lift his leg and mark every little plant on a walk. That allows Lola to stop and take a breath, look at the flowers and notice the beauty all around her.

Dachshunds were bred originally in Germany to go after badgers. The smaller version of dachshund was used to chase rabbits into their burrows. Misha and Niles look like cousins and Niles (who doesn't like just any dog) is very friendly with Misha. When they see each other they run up to each others ears to whisper the new tricks they have taught their owners to do. If they have a lot to tell, Lola and I can also catch up and have a cup of tea and a chat.

Part Italian Greyhound?

When I gaze at Misha's head I am charmed by it's lovely roundness. It is a perfect circle until it tapers to his slender nose. He has many whiskers that are black and stand out against his fur. Misha' s head often makes me think of Italian greyhounds. He does not have jowls that hang from his bottom lip, no extra skin to flop from his jaw. His whole head is very compact looking and his countenance is bare for anyone to see, no hiding behind bangs or waves of fur or hair.

The Italian greyhound is a delicate looking little dog. They were owned by Egyptians,ancient Greeks, and Romans. Pictures of Italian greyhounds can be found on Egyptian urns, medieval tapestries and European paintings. The IG (as it is sometimes referred to) has very thin fur and they do not like getting wet or the cold weather. Misha also hates getting wet and will look at me with horror if I suggest he go out in the rain. Does his DNA hold a bit of royalty?

What kind of dog is Misha?

I know that Misha is part Beagle. His eyes are brown, so dark that I can hardly see where the iris begins and the pupil ends. Both of his eyes have a thick black line around them. It is there as if drawn on by a make-up artist with an eye liner pencil. The effect is compelling. His eyes are round and liquid looking, they are pools I drift into.

The Beagle is part of the hound group of dogs. They are known for running down foxes or rabbits for a hunt. They have incredible noses and are used to sniff out contraband at airports. They can even be trained to sniff out mold in a person's house. Misha loves to hunt rabbits. When he sees one he begins to stalk it, slowly moving toward it with measured steps. He inches closer and closer. I watch him with fascination. Not a hair on him moves until he feels the rabbit is unaware of him. It is like watching a game of red light/ green light with a kid who is determined to win the game. Suddenly, the rabbit notices something (probably me) and is off. Misha does not seem concerned... surely there will be another rabbit along shortly.

My Childhood as a Dog

I have always felt an affinity for dogs. As a little girl I used to beg my mother to feed me from a dish on the floor. I would pick a dog to be for the day. I could be a cocker spaniel, a sheltie or a pug. My name would be Holly or Ramsey or Kirby. l would crawl around on the rug near my mother when she would sit to read. I would turn around a few times and settle at her feet with a sigh. Sometimes I would ask her to tie me up in the backyard which I don't remember her ever doing. I think there was only so far she would go along with my fantasy.

When I was 7 years old she and my father decided to get me off the floor that they would get me my own dog. We went to the city pound and chose a tiny puppy who was white with brown spots. I would hold him in my lap and scratch his stomach. I loved to just sit and watch him walk and sniff and pounce on little bugs. He had an incredibly long tongue which he used to lick my entire face. There was nothing about him I did not love.

The Fly

Misha and I are watching NCIS on T.V. The fan is blowing on us, the hum of traffic outside the house is soothing too. Suddenly, a fly begins buzzing around our heads. "Oh rats " I say aloud. And before I can say anything else, Misha (who has been watching it intently for 20 seconds) jumps up, snaps his jaws, and the fly is gone. He then spits it out on the couch and looks at it to see if it is worth eating. My hero!

Misha's Beginning

The rescue group that saved Misha has been in existence since 1982. It had begun when 2 friends talked over coffee about how there were so many dogs in the town shelter and how they did not seem to get adopted readily. What if those dogs were fostered in homes? What if the fosters assessed them and did some basic training with them? Could they get these dogs out of the shleters and adopted? Thirty plus years later the group is still going strong. And they are doing more than rescuing just their town dogs. In the spring of every year a local high school group takes a trip to the southern U.S.A. There is an overpopulation of stray dogs there. Often these dogs end up in shelters where they may have only 3 days to live before being euthanized. So, the group of kids heads south in a van and picks up as many dogs as they can.

There he is!

He was sitting on the floor near a coffee table, just sitting quietly and looking at me. In that first look I fell head over heals in love. I moved across the room and knelt down on the rug next to him."Hello little guy" I said and began that dog crooning voice that all of us who love dogs have somewhere inside. He leaned against me and then slid to the floor on his back and presented me with his stomach to scratch for him.
I know the lady talked to me. I know I answered her questions and had a cup of coffee. I know I gave her a check and took a bag of food for him and a leash and collar. I have no idea how long I stayed but I knew that he was mine. He had to be.
We went downstairs and said goodbye to his foster Mom, she turned and did not look back, she said it was too hard to do. Misha stood and watched her for a minute and then I took him and put him gently into the back of the car and we headed home.

I dashed off to find the web site for the rescue and fill in the application form for the dog called Misha. I answered all their questions and gave them phone numbers of friends and our vet who would attest to my past good pet ownership. That afternoon I got a call from the foster Mom of the little dog. I sounded perfect for him. Could I come on Sunday to see him and see if we were a good match? Of course I would be there.
Misha was in the next state so I left early on Sunday to find my way to his foster home. I drove to an apartment building with tall pine trees shading the front door and a pretty garden on the side. I ran up the three flights of stairs to Apartment 3C. I knocked. "Is this where Misha is staying?" I asked. "Come on in" the foster Mom said. I stepped into the room and saw him.

One Thursday in May I looked up Corgi and Corgi mixes on the Petfinder site. I scrolled down and was immediately taken by a picture of a small dog. He was white with a light chestnut colored face and a few similiar colored spots on his back. He stood smartly and his tail swooshed up in a curling motion behind him. He had a beautiful round head that looked a bit Beagle like, but his body shape and short legs were those of a Corgi for sure. There was a close-up that showed his face and he had dark brown lines around his eyes that looked like eye make-up drawn on carefully with an eyebrow pencil. He was adorable. I quickly scanned the biography that went along with the pictures "small Corgi mix, not a barker, calm, housetrained, friendly, walks well on a leash..." I called downstairs to my husband to come and see the picture. "Yeah, he's pretty cute" Aldo admitted.

Blogger: happyeyesdogrescue - Configure Blog Posts

Blogger: happyeyesdogrescue - Configure Blog Posts

2009

I had spent all the year looking for a dog on Petfinder.com. Every morning I woke up and got my cup of coffee, turned on the computer and from 5:30 until 6:10 could look for my new dog. I am a teacher and my students used to often ask my what time I woke up in the morning. Middle school students seem to like to know everything about you but they were often bewildered when I told them what time I arose. "Why so early?" they would ask. "Because that is when I have time to look for a dog."
My husband was only called to the computer screen when I found a really nice looking one to be approved. For a year he said no to everything that I showed him." Too small, too hairy, too big, too old, too fat, too thin, too young..." I looked through thousands of dogs. I imaginged myself with hundreds. I would print out pictures of dogs I thought were good choices and stick them up on my board at school to look at. I bought a stuffed dog and clutched it in my hand at night. I took it in my purse on car trips for company.
Our son is away at college. We had always had a dog or two in the house when he was home and he did not understand the big deal. "Get Mom another dog" Silas said to my husband."Then she will have someone else to fixate on."

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