Things My Dog Ate & Survived

My first house dog would have reached the age of 20 this past St. Patrick's Day. For a dachshund, that would be astounding.

The elongated creatures are a loyal and lovable breed, for who doesn't love the occasional, "Hey, it's a wiener dog!" But these fur kids are prone to back problems and overeating. And eating is something my dog loved to do.

Lexy with my siblings.
Top left with Priscilla, Brenda on the right, and with Elliott, lower left.

All of Lexy's bad habits were my fault. Diving for food, digging in purses, ripping papers, chewing woodwork. Not a pretty thing for a canine who came from a line of pure bred show dogs.

But I will take credit for her friendly, unabashed nature too. She never feared anyone or anything. She had no reason to. I raised her from the time she was a puppy after getting her from Jacquie Girrens in June of 1995.

To honor her memory this year, here's a lighthearted look at some of the things Lexy ate during the 11-plus years of her life.

Corn on the Cob
Lexy grabbed one out of my brother-in-law Rick's hand when he was teasing her with it at my sister Brenda's house. Lexy gagged on it, and I had to reach down her throat and pull it out. I gave Rick a piece of my mind as he did me about keeping her around the table. But Rick's a dog lover, so I don't hold it against him.

Lexy rests as Rick and I play chess.

Butter
She'd jump up on chairs if we didn't push them in. If Priscilla, my other sister who was Rick's wife, had butter on the table, Lexy would eat the entire stick if we didn't stop her in time. Result: loose bowels.

Pizza
Again, we didn't push in the chairs, so at my step-daughter Brittany's 13th birthday party, Lexy joined in and gobbled some pizza. See, I told you. These were all my fault.

Chocolate
Don't worry. We got her to vomit and she was okay. When I found an almost empty bag of chocolate in the hallway at my sister Priscilla's, I knew what had happened. Lexy had been snooping around in a bedroom where Pris was storing wedding supplies for her son's reception. We called a vet, and they told us what to do so she would foam and then expel it. So we waited. And waited. And waited. And just about the time we were going to load her up and take her in, up it all came. PTL!

Mom keeping Lexy out of the junk pail.

Pantyhose
Yes, I used to wear them under my pants. Had to keep warm somehow on cold bus rides during basketball season. Lexy managed to find the nylons and eat the legs. All I found was the waist and butt part. My vet, Doc Mike Herndon, told me how much and how often to give her the goopy black toothpaste-looking stuff that acted as a stool softener. I kept it on hand because of all the stuff she'd get into. Then Doc said, "You need to dig through her poop and puke to piece the pantyhose back together again, so we know all the pieces are out of her." I did that with a big stick. This happened twice. You'd think I'd put them away so she couldn't get to them. Again, all my fault. This is why I do not baby sit.

Lexy & Pepper eye-ball Chris' cereal.

Chewing Gum
My friend and colleague Joyce Foley came for a Longaberger party at my house. I usually took Lexy to my neighbors, Jack and Betty Tracy, when I'd have such events, but Joyce had come later, and I already had the wiener girl back at the house. We went into the kitchen, and when we came back out, Lexy was busy chewing up a wad of Big Red gum from Joyce's purse. She did a similar thing when I stopped for a minute to deliver something to my niece Evelynn. When I came back, Lexy had managed to get into my candy and gum and some Advil. The bugger knew how to unzip bags!

Poop
Yes, her own. It's not as uncommon as you might think. I had to give her special pills so she would quit doing it. It was embarrassing when she'd do it in the front side yard. The behavior is called coprophagy. She liked horse droppings, silage, and trash cans too.

My life with Lexy was full of crazy events like this, and I loved every minute of it. For a more serious read on my time with her, read the post called The Loss of a Pet.


What are your house pet's habits? Have they eaten anything weird?

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

I know one person born on Valentine’s Day. That’s Verda, my brother-in law’s mom. She would have been 93-years-old today.

A child of the 1930s, Verda was not wasteful. Rick, my brother-in-law, told me his mom would put three pans of water outside during the mornings of the summer months. 

“By noon the water was warm enough to wash up outside before coming in the house,” he said. They used homemade soap too.

I have a few of Verda’s things that Rick was gracious enough to give me. After his mother passed away in 1996, I wanted what I referred to as the Longhorn cattle mirror. It’s a square mirror set on a slant behind beveled glass with three curvy hat hooks on it.

the Longhorn cattle mirror

I had to beg a few times, but Rick finally let me have Verda's mirror. It's right inside the door to my house. It's where I hang my keys, the dog leashes, and my hats. It's where I take one last peak of myself before I start leave. I use it every day. I think Verda would like that.

Another piece I have is her magazine rack end table with a narrow drawer and a slot for blankets underneath. It's the end table on my side of our couch. Just like the mirror, I use it every day. Lexy, my first wiener dog, loved that table. She'd stand on it and look out the window—that's why the top is all scratched up. Verda wouldn't like that.

the end table Lexy loved

I have an old coffee grinder too that hangs on the wall, and when my green thumb is in the mood to attend to houseplants, I keep a small potted philodendron in it. Rick gave me a couple of her crocks and two of those tan bowls with red apples and green leaves on it. I've seen those at the antique stores. They're worth something. Mine holds a potted plant.

clockwise: Verda's bowl, coffee ginder, glass jar, and flower pot

Another one of Verda’s flower pots used to be part of my welcome piece at my front door. It was a beautiful green and mauve colored flower pot. Last year I poured leftover water in it, then it froze busting the pot into many pieces. It broke my heart too. I really liked that pot.

There’s one more thing of Verda’s in my house: a tiny glass jar with an unusual shape. It gets wider at the bottom. Maybe it was a mustard jar. It holds a few utensils near my reading, writing, and devotional spot in my bedroom. Like the mirror, I use it every day.

Verda & husband Andrew

As a little girl, I knew Verda as the woman who’d serve me a treat I loved—apple schnitz, dried sour apple. One year for Christmas she gave me my own batch of it. I think she'd be thrilled to know that some of her things stayed in the family and are still used today.

What items do you use often that help you treasure the memory of a person who is now gone?

Four Simple, Endearing Gifts

You know the type. You're in a bad mood, but he can make you smile. That was Hugh. Hugh Rausch, one of my former artsy fartsy students. He surprised me with Christmas earrings one year, and I still have them. Well, one of them. Or did he only give me one? He would do something like that.

Silly.

Christmas earrings

Back in the day, Hugh was one of three reasons I unplugged my phone on the weekends. The other two were Aaron Voth and Andy Mount. Those kooks woke me up with three am phone calls yelling, "Hi, Miss Hofer!" Then they'd laugh hysterically and hang-up.

Good-natured fun, and we still joke about it. Sure glad they did this only on the weekends because I had a hard time falling back to sleep. Sure don't have that problem today. I can sleep sitting up. Guess I truly am middle-aged.

Another endearing Christmas gift? A dainty white angel from Judy Twietmeyer, our school secretary. She was one classy Secret Santa back in the 90s. Whoever made this angel, thank you. It's one of my favorite holiday ornaments.

Pretty.

the angel from Judy

My third endearing gift? A simple pencil drawing from my step-daughter Brittany. Our second Christmas together at my dad's was a few weeks after we put down my first house dog. On Christmas morning, Brittany handed me her portrayal of Lexy asleep in her basket.

Precious.

8th grade artwork from my step-daughter, Brittany

My fourth gift? A nativity scene painted on rocks. My friend Kay Wulf gave it to me last year after she caught me admiring hers. Kay's sister painted Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus on the stones after her husband filed the ends.

Cute.

God so loved the world ~ and I am so glad that he did

Do you have any holiday items or gifts that warm your heart like these simple ones do mine? What are the circumstances around them? Share your stories in the comment section below. Merry Christmas everyone!

The Loss of a Pet

Our little black wiener dog honored his predecessor today. He napped on her grave under a tree that commemorates her. It was as if he knew this was the anniversary weekend of her death.
 

Dan the Man soaking up the 70 degree November sun in Kansas

Seven years ago, I put down my red dachshund named Lexy. She was eleven-years and nine-months old, a little younger than most of the kids I teach. Her back legs went out, something that happens to a lot of wiener dogs due to their elongated bodies and the strain on their spines.

I had raised her from the time she was a puppy. Trained her to ring bells to go out and potty. In a month, she had it down. Later that summer, my niece Jessica helped me train her to walk on a leash by enticing her with food.

Lexy, named after a South Dakota weather forecaster Lexy Hickok, arose at 5:50 am every day when I first got her back in June of 1995. I wanted to sleep in—it was summer. So one day, I said, "We're going back to bed," and I stuck her under the covers with me. That was the last time she slept in a cage. Then I got married, and she slept alone in a doggy bed.

Lexy and Dad nap ~ Summer 1995

One can imagine the pain of losing a house dog who is a constant companion. My dad said he understood when I told him I cried over Lexy’s death more than I did Mom's.

Shortly after my dog's passing, fellow dog lover Kaitlin Nance, a former student of mine, gave me the book, For Every Dog an Angel. For anyone who’s lost a dog, the words will not seem silly. I knew I wanted another dog; I just wanted to wait until summer time when I could give it my full attention.

Lexy ~ Tank, Kaitlin's dog ~ Pepper in July 2007

But I was. So lonely.
I missed Lexy. So much.

Guilt over all the changes during her last year of life did not help me. I tried to enjoy Pepper’s company, but it was not the same. He was not Lexy. I would walk Pepper at night and just bawl. I bought an iPod to drown out my thoughts.

Some suggested I should get a dog right away, others said I better wait, yet others said maybe I should not get another one—ever. After all, we had Pepper. In addition, I feared my new husband would not want another dachshund after the way Lexy behaved at times. But I wanted one. Another one. Another dachshund.

Lexy's second Christmas in 1996. She did not like that doggy coat.

My husband saw my sorrow, and three months later in March, he drove me five hours one way to get a dog from a rescue. It was a black and red dachshund I found on petfinder.com. His papers came with the name Daniel, but I wanted a fresh start for this little fella whose story I will tell some time in a future post, so I renamed him Dan the Man. He’s my little love who teaches me about patience and kindness in a way no human can. 

Dan the Man with me in May 2012

How does one move on after the loss of a pet?
It is tough. So tough.

Give yourself permission to mourn. How do you do this besides tears? Create a special memento of your pet. Mine is a box full of pictures and a journal full writings. In fact, that’s when I started writing consistently again. Lexy’s death in 2007 caused me to return to my default mode. In that journal, I wrote messages to her.

Lexy with me on the last day of her life.

Also, realize the time to grieve is different for everyone. You might choose to never get a pet again. Only you can make that decision, but do know that you are not being disloyal to the one you lost if you want another companion. My time ended up being three months because I could not stand it any longer.

One day at lunch, my friend and colleague Jill Weber said, “It helped my mom when she got another one." Her words gave me permission to make room in my heart for another dog.

And room I had.
Dan the Man’s spot is right beside Lexy’s, and today, his resting on her grave confirmed it.

saying good bye

How have you dealt with the pain of losing a beloved pet? What did you do to cherish the memories?

A Three-Hour Tour: A Lifetime of Memories

An episode of Gilligan's Island and a bowl of Cheerios with a toasted Cheese Whiz sandwich: my after school entertainment and snack as a child growing up in the '70's.

When my colleague Angie Boone linked me a set of Gilligan's Island facts due to my all-time favorite show turning 50-years old today, I decided to pay homage to the crew America grew to love.

I lived in Cheney three years before I could afford cable television. I was too busy creating lesson plans and coaching high school basketball anyway. So when I could afford it and learned that Gilligan's Island was on TV Land, boy-oh-boy!

My VCR recorded every episode. I found another VCR and dubbed them onto another tape to edit out the commercials. I think my dad still has those VHS tapes.

Suzanne and Jessica, two of my younger nieces who were grade schoolers during my college and early teaching years, enjoyed watching the dubbed shows.

Here are a couple of my favorite lines from the show.

"Movie star, you make glasses steam."

This must be said in dorky, throaty fashion just like the actor did when his pop-bottle-bottom glasses steamed over as Ginger approached him to release her castaway friends. Plot line: a Japanese soldier ends up on the island and believes the war is still underway.

I know, I know. I've re-worded the original quote a bit. It's called creative license.

"Yes, master. I hear and I obey."

This must be said in a choppy, monotone voice to imitate how the castaways said it because a mad scientist and his monkey hypnotized them with a magical ring.

Plot line: the man is training the group to rob Fort Knox. This episode, and a number of other ones around this time, show Gilligan driving, I mean peddling, a car. What little kid did not want a car like Gilligan's?

In another episode, this same fella with the monkey experiments with teleportation, but he is only successful with the voice. The man's beefy sidekick ends up with Ginger's voice and Ginger speaks with a manly voice.

"Like a harp needs a string!"

This must be sung half-opera-half-spoken style like Mrs. Howell. She, along with Ginger and Mary Ann, dubbed themselves the Honeybees to impress the Monkeys, a singing group who purposely stranded themselves on the island to get way and practice their music.

"Neither a borrower, nor a lender be. Do not forget, stay out of debt."

Again, sung with gusto just like Skipper and Mary Ann in the group's rendition of a scene from Hamlet. Probably the reason I became an English major.

How do I remember all these great moments? Because it truly is my all-time favorite show. It contains all the elements of a well-developed plot. The worst they ever said on the show was son-of-a-gun. And any sexual innuendo was just that, innuendo, nothing inappropriate. The show was clean fun, and I will always defend it.

My favorite episode: The Radioactive Vegetables.

And when my husband wanted to cheer me up a number of years ago when I had to put my precious Lexy doggy down right before Christmas, he insisted that I open up a present early. Guess what it was? A boxed set of Gilligan's Island DVD's. 

If I have just conjured up some of your favorite Gilligan's Island memories, please share in the comment section below.