Day Four.

We spoke to renowned pet psychic Sonya Fitzpatrick this morning. This British-born woman became famous for her ability to speak to animals and we met her years ago at a Houston television station where we had gone to see a taping of her program. We also used Sonya's services when we had problems with our cat AngelBoy, my blue-eyed Birman of years ago.  My husband arranged the telephone-interview with Sonya today... we have tried everything else, and we thought Sonya may be able to help. Gary eMailed Sonya a photo of Savannah... Sonya knew she was lost, didn't know the circumstances, didn't know where we're living now. The half-hour phone conversation contained these insights, as 'told' from Savannah to Sonya (my comments on each will be in parentheses):

1.  Savannah is further away than we thought, at least 12 miles, near a very small town that has stores with some furniture outside on the sidewalk, like an antique shop. She can hear road traffic but she's staying away from the busiest roads. (we are 12 miles from the next small town, 15 miles away from the town after that--- both of which have such little shops).

2.  Sonya feels that Savannah is still dragging her leash, still has her collar, and a woman tried to grab that leash but Savannah ran away from her. (Typical reaction of Savannah to someone she's never seen before.)

3.  Savannah is looking for the chicken she always gets. (I buy a cooked chicken every week at the supermarket and give Savannah the dark meat.)

4.  Savannah misses her indoor cat but says the outdoor cat is rude and keeps swiping at her. (Savannah and Sweet Pea are best buddies, but outside cat Mickey slaps Savannah on her nose all the time.)

5.  Savannah 'told' Sonya that she had to learn to stop being so nervous around mommy's friend C who keeps complaining about her hair and has a big bossy black dog. (This is indeed one of our friends who comes here every week, does complain about her haircuts, does have a big black dog who's bossy, and it took Savannah about three months to even go near this particular friend.)

6.  Savannah says she misses the 'big blue thing' that she sleeps on. (I recently put a blue/white cover on the sofa in the TV room, where Savannah takes a lot of naps because Sweet Pea takes over her dog-bed.)

7.  Savannah doesn't understand why she isn't allowed in mommy's little car anymore but she always gets to ride in daddy's gray and silver car. Savannah says that mommy used to sing to her in the little car.  (Savannah has grown too large for my small two-seater car, and my husband's car is gray outside with a silver/black interior. My car has Barry Manilow CDs and I always play them and sing along with Manilow when I'm driving.)

8.  Savannah misses her 'fancy dishes.'  (I don't have dog bowls for Savannah's food and water... I bought pretty ceramic bowls for her at the thrift store.)

9.  Savannah talked about all the wood floors in this house and how she slips and slides on them and she doesn't like that mommy is always checking her nails to make sure they're not too long, and she doesn't like how mommy keeps checking her ears either. (We do indeed have wood floors, and I'm constantly keeping check on Savannah's nails. I check Savannah's ears just about every day, in case a little sticky-burr gets caught in there during our daily walks.)

10. Sonya knew that Savannah had been an outside dog for her first five months before we adopted her. She said that when we came to get Savannah, she couldn't understand why she was being taken away but it turned out to be the best day of her life.


I don't know why I was so surprised to hear everything that Sonya told us about Savannah and her life with us.  As I said, we used Sonya's services years ago and she was correct with all her 'readings' at that time.  After the telephone call this morning, we drove into the next town and posted more fliers and showed Savannah's photo to people we saw along the way. I put fliers in mail boxes and my husband taped them in all the gas stations and cafes we could find. We did the same thing in the town after that, then came home, looking for Savannah all along the highway as we drove.

There are two other small towns we can try, both of which are in the opposite direction of Sonya's suggestion, but they're both worth the effort as well. The more people see Savannah's picture, the better our chances will be that someone finds her.  Sonya seems to think she is still wearing her leash, so hopefully her collar and tags are still on her also. As Savannah gets more hungry, maybe she will trust someone to get close enough to her to grab that leash and read the name and number on the ID tags.

We had such hope when we went out the door this morning. However, as we drove around those two little towns and saw the enormity of the woods and the thousands of hiding places along the way, we also came to grips with the fact that searching out a dog whose main goal is to stay hidden from unknown people may just be an impossible task. But we'll keep trying. And our friends are doing so as well, and that amazes me every day, to think that of all things most precious, time spent doing something for others is the most precious gift imaginable.

We had pouring rain with thunder and lightning last night. Horrible weather for Savannah to be out in, and I'm hoping that she had been able to find some sort of shelter, some place to crawl under to keep out of the rain.

I can barely look over at the property across the road any more. Those new people have lost my respect, and even if (when) we get Savannah back, I don't know that I'll be able to forget their carelessness. Not only did their reckless behavior cause Savannah to bolt, but the husband over there drove past me without stopping when I was out on the road handing out fliers with Savannah's photo on it, and the wife told me "Well keeping looking, dear" when I told her we were still searching for Savannah. Both incidents happened on the same day (yesterday) and both were like slaps against my heart which is broken enough with all that's been going on since Wednesday.

It has been a horrible four days. I'm hoping for better. I'm hoping to find Savannah. I'm hoping that a compassionate stranger finds Savannah and calls the number on her ID tag. I'm hoping the people across the road move back to California, or wherever they came from.

Day Three.

This is so hard that I think I can feel my heart breaking as I type.

My husband and I have been out for hours, leaving 'lost dog' fliers at the local veterinary offices, pet-boarding facilities, the supermarket, the hardware store, the dog park, and we even went to the police station and the local newspaper.  Savannah's picture is all over our friends' Facebook pages, and the pages of the local rescue organizations.

Now it's up to the puppy gods and to Savannah.... she has got to either get herself near enough to a person so they can look at her ID tags, or she has to find her way home.  This morning I walked up and down our road, all the way up to the main highway. I called out Savannah's name and then stopped to listen, hoping to hear a barking in return. Well, I got lots of barking, but only from the dogs of our neighbors. I lost count of how many times I yelled out Savannah's name this morning.

I know that Savannah must have been terribly frightened when that mega-firecracker-thing went off on Wednesday night, but it's hard to believe that she could have run so far away from here that she has lost all sense of where she lives.  But that's what I think has happened. And with everyone around here shooting off guns left and right, every time Savannah heard a stray gunshot, she probably got up and started running again, making her more and more lost.

As I type, Sweet Pea is sleeping in Savannah's bed. He stayed away from that bed for the first day and a half of Savannah's "missing" status.... he would walk right up to the bed and sniff it, then jump on one of the chairs to take a nap. Yesterday afternoon, Sweet Pea walked into Savannah's bed and curled up and went to sleep, and he's doing the same thing right now.   I'm going to leave Savannah's bed right where it is in the breakfast room, for at least another week. I think Savannah would come home if she were still around,  but I'm beginning to think that she isn't in this area anymore, and she could even be in the next town or the next county by now.          

My husband placed an ad in the local paper, and we've given out an extraordinary number of fliers, with help from friends and neighbors. All of us have driven up and down and around these hills, looking for a 65-pound puppy named Savannah whose fear of loud noises prompted her to bolt and run, and keep on running.

The bruises I got on Wednesday evening when Savannah pulled me down to the road are now turning a glorious shade of purple with splashes of yellow. I look like a rainbow, a broken one.   And that's about how I feel: broken.

We're supposed to have rain showers this weekend, and I'm hoping beyond hope that Savannah's hiding place is good and dry. She doesn't like thunder and lightning and I'm also hoping that the weather gods don't send an entire arsenal of weather into our hills.

It's killing me that I don't know where Savannah is. I don't know if she's safe, I don't know if she's un-hurt. I know absolutely nothing about her physical location but I do know that if we get her back, these circumstances are going to impact that puppy's personality. And that's going to be another puppy hurdle to get over, but we will, if given the chance.                                                            

Day Two.

The house is as quiet as a church, as quiet as death. Not that our house was noisy, but Savannah added a much-needed boost of life to this old house.

Everyone around here spent most or nearly all of the day looking for Savannah... riding up and down the road, handing out fliers, telling neighbors or calling neighbors... you name it, it was done today. Fliers are in everyone's mailbox and more have been printed up to bring to the local vet's offices and the little convenience stores attached to gas stations. That will be tomorrow's job.

Neighbors have checked the creeks and the properties around the hills here. Open barns and sheds have been inspected... not a sign of Savannah anywhere. One neighbor told me that her sister's dog hid for four days and then came out of her hiding spot on the fifth day. I hope Savannah knows that rule. Better yet, I wish she'd just come out. Like now.

The across-the-road neighbor stopped by to ask if we'd found Savannah yet. (As if it's a given that we will find her?)  This is the neighbor whose son set off those earth-shattering fireworks in the first place. My friend told me that it may not even be legal to shoot off fireworks at the end of April... firework day being July 4th. There's no sense in bringing up that little fact to the neighbor or her son. What's done is done, and what has been done was so senseless.  I found it hard to even look at that neighbor this afternoon. I hate to be so 'ugly' about this, but our dog is missing because of their careless and thoughtless firework display on a plain old Wednesday night in late April. Seriously... who does something so stupid?!

Upon closer inspection of my bruises this afternoon, both of my knees are swollen, with the right knee turning a lovely shade of purple and the left knee becoming bright pink. The palms of my hands are cut-up and swollen and I know it would be hard to grip a steering wheel so I didn't drive anywhere today. My right wrist is purple and swollen, and I also have a strawberry-ish shaped bruise on the inside of my right arm. My chin has a very nice pattern of cuts and scrapes, and if you connect the cuts of my chin, the resulting picture may be identical to one of the constellations in the midnight sky that I'm not seeing right now because Savannah is not here to be walked after dark.

I keep thinking of Savannah and wondering where she is sleeping, and is it protected from coyotes and snakes? Does she know enough to stay away from snakes and scorpions? Truth be told, I wish she'd know enough to just come home. I left the outside lights on last night and tonight, hoping that she will recognize the distinct outline of our house and the porch and just come home. Please just come home.

When friend C and I were driving around the roads here looking for Savannah, I was amazed at all the barbed wire fencing. I know that the barbed wire has its purpose, but the people here who have property to protect--- shouldn't they be afraid of the injuries that sort of fencing can impose on wildlife, livestock, and their own pets?

I am grateful for all the help from our neighbors and friends. No one hesitated to get out there and just look, look, and look some more, as if Savannah belonged not just to me and Gary, but to all of us.

The nights when Savannah would wake me up at three o'clock because a raccoon dared to come up on the porch... I used to get so mad with her for interrupting my sleep. Now I'd give anything just to hear her barking. I just need to know where she is. This not knowing is killing me, just killing me.

I cannot believe that I lost my dog... that Savannah got away from me because of those stupid fireworks... that right now on my fridge there is a flier saying 'Lost Dog' with Savannah's picture on it. Give me a blessed break.

Oh. My. God.

 I don't even know where to begin this.

I was out on the road walking Savannah tonight, just as always, between 8:00 and 8:30.  We were walking along towards our house and we were right in front of our barn when the across-the-road neighbors decided to set off some fireworks on their property. Not just little fire-crackers, but those huge cannon-sounding things that rattle the windows.

Not only did I get scared, but Savannah freaked out and immediately bolted. Thankfully, I didn't have the leash wrapped around my wrist like I usually do... I was holding it in my hand and when she bolted, my first instinct was to hang on tight, which I did. The result of that was that she pulled me to the ground, right smack down on the paved road. Both of my hands are bruised, as is my chin and my knees and my chest. I must have put my hands out towards the ground when Savannah bolted, and that's what probably saved me from literally breaking my chin on the ground, but the palms of my hands are messed up quite badly.

I remember my chin hitting the ground, and then I remember waking up so I think I must have blacked out. I don't even remember seeing Savannah as she ran away from the noise, which was just to the left of us. And it wasn't just one cannon sound from those fire-crackers, it was one after the other because as I was trying to wake up and get myself up from the ground, more cannons were going off. I wanted to scream towards the neighbors' property but my chin hurt too badly.

I couldn't walk very fast because of my knee but when I got myself to the house, Savannah was nowhere in sight. I walked all around the house, the backyard, the guest cottage, and then the barn. I even went into the barn to see if she was hiding in there... nothing.  Then I remembered the leash I had put on her... the long 20-foot leash that she was dragging along behind her and then I got to praying that it didn't get caught on something dangerous, like barbed wire or one of the trees by the creek.

Everything happens when my husband is at work and not at home. It was getting dark and I didn't know where to look first, but I also knew that Savannah was beyond scared. I called our friends up the road.... told them what happened and asked if they would look on their property for Savannah... they called other neighbors and within ten minutes, all the dog-loving people here in our hills had their vehicles out along the road and were shining flashlights into the fields and they even drove up and down the main highway looking for Savannah.  I called that puppy's name till I was hoarse, and then I called some more.

How can a 65-pound dog just disappear?  We looked all over our road, went to all the neighbors to tell them what happened......... and then J & J drove all along the main highway a second time, going both north and south, hoping that they wouldn't see Savannah on that road. Thankfully, the only thing in the middle of that highway tonight was an unfortunate skunk.

Another neighbor took her little golf-cart thing and drove it up and down and all around our 23 acres, all the way around the pond and down towards the woods. Savannah knows J very well and will go to her when J calls her name. But there wasn't a sign of Savannah anywhere out there in the pastures.

As I type this, it is 11:30 at night. I have left the porch light on and I've got the door open so I can hear through the screen door if Savannah finds her way back to the porch. One of our neighbors has a lot of experience with all kinds of animals and she seems to think that Savannah is hiding, and will stay hidden till morning. I'm hoping that she is right... that Savannah got so frightened of those damn fireworks that she found a spot that she thinks is safe and she's just staying there till daylight. But just in case she's out there walking around, I've been going out on the porch and calling her name out into the dark yard.

I've called my husband in his office.... he told me not to worry... that she will find her way home.  He told me to go to sleep and I'll find Savannah on the porch in the morning.  One thing I cannot do is go to sleep. I'm not even going up to the second floor tonight. I'm sitting in the breakfast room typing... the back door is open and I can hear the night-time sounds through the screen door. There must be a million frogs out there tonight.  I'm doing laundry just to have something to do. And I'm praying that I will hear her paws on the porch and the sound of that stupid long leash dragging behind her as she climbs up the steps.

I have no idea where Savannah is... no idea where she would hide... and I can't even imagine how frightened she must be right now. I hate this. I hate the damn neighbors and their damn fireworks. I hate the other neighbors and their damn gun-shots going off at any given time on any given day. I hate that Savannah is out there and not in this house where she belongs, safe and sound and sleeping in her bed.  And I'm grateful for our friends who spent nearly three hours out here tonight looking for Savannah.

 I hate the fact that when Savannah bolted, I couldn't hold onto her and I feel like it's my fault that she's missing now. I hate this feeling that I couldn't keep her safe.  My husband says not to worry too much till we see what happens in the morning. Savannah is wearing her collar and tags, plus she has that micro-chip in the back of her neck. Someone is bound to find her and call my number that's on her tag. But Savannah will not go to strangers if they call out to her. Especially if she's scared.

I hate this. I absolutely hate this helpless feeling. And I hate that Savannah is outside in the dark somewhere, off in the pastures where the coyotes roam all night long. Savannah is petrified of coyotes, absolutely petrified. I don't even know what more to do. Waiting till morning sounds logical but it's so ridiculously hard.

Abrupt end to Puppy-ness?

I don't know what has happened within the past few days, but it seems that all of a sudden Savannah has grown up. Or maybe it's just that she has matured a little bit this past week. All I know is this... when I'm walking her now, it feels like there's a real dog at the end of the leash instead of a crazy puppy. (Should I be knocking wood here?)

Savannah's somewhat unpredictable puppy walks have turned into big-girl walks, and not just once in a while, but every day now for well over a week, which is progress indeed. She will let me know when she has to go out (her paws on my knees and a serious look on her face as she stares at me without blinking) and then she sits by the door while I change shoes and get her leash. Savannah will actually slip her head right into that collar as I'm holding it out in a circle, as if it's a game to her to get her head through it on the first try.

I've stopped walking her all the way up the hill now because the wildflowers and grasses have grown to over a foot high along the side of the road and there's really no place for her to get into the grass without being belly-deep in green and heaven only knows where the ant hills are now. I've been walking her up and down just in front of our own property where the grass has been mowed and ant hills are easily visible. A nice side-effect of walking on our property is that Savannah's scent is closer to home now and she quickly takes care of her business without having to be walked all the way up the hill and around the curve in the road... which makes the after-dark walk blissfully short and successful. Savannah is still very much afraid of gun-shots, of which there are plenty up here. As soon as she hears a shot, her tail goes down and she crouches low to the ground as she pulls towards home... all of which is much easier to handle closer to the house than way up the hill. I have no idea how or if she will ever feel safe from gun-shot sounds.

Sleeping has been much more peaceful as well... unless there's a legitimate sound outside, as there was last night. Savannah has not been barking just for the sake of barking anymore... she sleeps well until she hears something outside and then I have to come downstairs and investigate. From what I read on the Great Pyrenees web-sites, Savannah's one-bark alert is a call to her people that something may be amiss.

The noise last night was, heaven help me, a stray cat howling in the yard. When I turned on the porch light, the howling and screeching stopped, and I'm sure it's a 'new' stray cat because I didn't hear a sound from Mickey Kitty.  With the gray/white stray that was hanging around a couple of months ago, Mickey always answered that cat's screeches with howls of his own. Mickey has a unique voice and always has, so I'm positive that last night's cat-wailing was not from inside the garage or coop.

I waited a few minutes to give that stray cat some time to get away from our yard and then I took Savannah outside. My aim in that was to get Savannah's scent out there as a forewarning to that stray cat..... I do not (NOT) want another cat, nor will I feed a stray. I kept that promise with the gray/white stray cat and he eventually went away. I'm hoping the same method works for this newest stray.

Savannah quickly used the grass outside by the steps last night (one o'clock in the morning, actually) and then I brought her back inside and she promptly went to sleep in her bed. (Another sign of maturity.)

The property is still quite soggy from all the rain we had last week, and the local dog park has been closed since the storms. The swimming pool at the park got filled with mud and pebbles from the paths, part of the fence along the perimeter of the park was knocked down from the floods, and they're working hard to make repairs so the park can be-opened. The park will have a 'dog festival' at the end of this month and we plan to take Savannah there.

I'm still in doggie-heaven because we have found an extraordinary boarding facility for Savannah, which will be her 'sleep-away camp' for any traveling we do this summer.  I couldn't have been more pleased with the mature staff and the deluxe accommodations at this particular facility, and I know that Savannah will be well cared for with a quiet room to sleep in, a clean yard to play in, and not only will she be taken out four or five times every day but she will get a bath and nail-clipping just before we come to take her home.  I'm hoping that as Savannah gets older, we'll be able to just leave her at home here and have a friend tend to her twice a day... but for now, in her still-mostly-a-puppy stage, she really needs more supervision and more play and more trips out into the grass.

My husband and I were talking last night about the great strides Savannah has made since we brought her home last September. From a puppy who didn't know how to trust, Savannah is now an alert and loyal dog who clearly knows who her family is and isn't afraid to both give love and receive love.

Savannah's Puppy Diary

Well we've been Busy here. Momma has been Busy Just Being Momma but I've been Busy just being Savannah and Momma says that's a Whole Job On Its Own.

We went to the Dog Park after it Finally Quit Raining this week but we couldn't Stay there because the Rain flooded the Park and the Back Fence Fell Down and the Swimming Pool was filled with Mud and Leaves and Momma kept saying Yuck Savannah Yuck every time I went in it but I went in it anyway and then Daddy had to Give Me A Bath With The Hose before we left the Park because Momma said my Paws were Too Muddy For The Car. I didn't know what a Bath was before That Hose in the Park but it Wasn't Too Bad because Daddy was Holding Me and he made sure the Water Wasn't Too Cold for his Princess Puppy. When Daddy was all done with the Hose Momma said that I didn't Smell Like The Swimming Pool anymore.

Miss Cindy told Momma that the Dog Park People have Closed the Park now until the End Of The Month and they will Open It Up Again With A Big Dog Festival and Daddy said we could Go To That. I don't know what a Dog Festival is but Daddy said It's Lots Of Fun Savannah and he's Pretty Smart so I believe him.

Momma and Daddy went Camp Shopping today because they told me that Summer Is Coming Savannah And We Can't Leave You In The House By Yourself And You're Too Big For Just Anyone To Take Care Of You When We Travel. This is all So Confusing. I have No Idea what Summer is or what Travel is and I surely don't know what Being In The House By Yourself means either.

When Momma and Daddy got Home today they said We Found The Perfect Camp For You Miss Savannah You Will Have Your Own Extra Big Deluxe Room With A Window And You Can Go Outside In The Shade If It's Too Hot Or Outside In The Sun If It's Too Cool And There Are Other Nice Dogs In The Deluxe Rooms For You To See And The People There Will Take Really Good Care Of You Because You're A Deluxe Puppy And They Will Even Give You A Bath Before We Come To Take You Home. I was Listening really hard to All Of That and then Momma said the word Bath and now I'm Not So Sure that Camp is the Best Place for her Princess Puppy. Daddy just gave me a Bath so you would think I could Get Through This Thing Called Summer without having to Get Another Bath.

This afternoon Momma brought me into the Backyard and told me to Sit In The Coop For A While Savannah So You Get Used To Being Outside Without Me. Momma said she used to Keep Chickens In The Coop until the Hawks Got Them Out In The Yard All and now Mickey Kitty Stays In The Coop sometimes because It's All Fenced In And Safe. So I stood there in the Coop and Watched The Birds In The Yard and then Mickey walked up to the Coop and Stuck His Paw in the Fence and I knew he was wondering what I was doing In There because I'm Not A Chicken And I'm Not A Cat but he was Too Polite to say all of that so He Just Stared At Me the way Cats do when they have No Place To Go and Nothing Better To Do.

Momma said I could Stay In The Coop For 30 Minutes and I don't exactly know what that means but when Momma came Back to Get Me she said Good Girl Savannah Good Girl You're Going To Really Like Going To Camp This Summer. All Momma is Talking about now is Camp This and Camp That. I heard Momma on the Phone telling Miss Janice all about Camp and then Momma tried to call Miss Cindy but she wasn't Home. I wanted to tell Momma that maybe she could send Miss Cindy and Miss Janice to the Deluxe Rooms in that Camp and I could Just Stay Here Like I Always Do. Momma told me that I'm Very Lucky That I Can Have A Deluxe Room and then she told Daddy that if it Hadn't Been For That Boarding Place And Those Deluxe Rooms she Wouldn't Be Going Anywhere This Summer That Savannah Couldn't Go.

My People are Very Confusing sometimes. Here we are In The Middle of All This Deluxe Property Filled With Bluebonnets To Eat and There's Deluxe Dog Food and Treats in the Kitchen and my Deluxe Dog Bed is in the Breakfast Room and I have Sweet Pea to play with Inside and Mickey Kitty to play with Outside and there's Ice Cream in the Freezer and a Deluxe Dog Park down the Road and even a Dog Festival to go to when they Fix The Fence In The Park. With All Of That Deluxe Stuff I just Do Not Understand why Momma and Daddy need to Travel This Summer and send me To Camp while they're Gone.

Pet-sitting...

Oh well. With summer on the way, my husband is thinking of traveling. Gary is an amazing planner when it comes to visiting other cities and countries. We leave home with a 20 to 30 page itinerary of every sight worth seeing, every restaurant offering five-star meals, and a cozy B&B for each stop along the way. I repeat: Oh well.

My husband is already excited about the summer plans... he may have been a travel agent in a past life, or possibly an intrepid explorer in a distant past life.   My first question to my husband when he started talking about taking a trip was "And what would we do with Savannah?!"  Gary didn't understand why my first thought about traveling was not deciding where to go but what to do with our one-year-old puppy.

To me, Savannah is still very much a puppy. Judging by her behavior and personality, I think she will stay mostly a puppy for at least another six months, if not another full year.  And how do I leave this puppy in the house for a week or more and have just anyone coming in to feed her or walk her?  How will someone else know when she has to really go and when she's just playing around out in the grass?  And will another person sit with her when she's hungry but doesn't want to eat by herself in the kitchen? And will someone else let Savannah put her head on his/her lap when she just needs to be reassured with a hug?

About a month or so back, Gary and I visited a boarding kennel in the next town. We took Savannah with us, driving way into the godforsaken woods behind one of the main highways here, to a very tired-looking kennel that had not one blade of grass for the dogs to play on, and a big dungeon-esque room filled with large wire kennels where the dogs spent most of their days and all of their nights. We were told that we could bring Savannah's bed or blanket so she wouldn't have to sleep on the concrete. Well, let me tell you, I wouldn't have wanted to bring her bed into a kennel there because the floors didn't even look clean. And the noise.... just horrendous. How would Savannah sleep there when she's used to a quiet house? Both my husband and I agreed that we needed to take that particular boarding kennel off of our list.

There are other kennels in town, most of which are connected to veterinary offices. Savannah would have a kennel all to herself, with access to fenced-in grass outside so she could come and go at will, and she'd see the other dogs in the next-door kennels. There are two possible kennels that we could go and look at, one at our own vet's office, and the other at a vet's office that we weren't too fond of when we took our dog Gracie there. (They were all business, lacking good bedside-manners with our sick Gracie.)

One of our friends has offered to take care of Savannah for us if we go away, but that's an awful big commitment to make for a trip that would be more than just a long weekend. And even though Savannah is very comfortable with our friend, how comfortable would Savannah really be if she were left alone in this house all day and all night, with an hour's worth of company three times a day?

When we've gone away in the past, I've kept Sweet Pea in the TV room so he can't get into mischief in the kitchen and breakfast room.  Now that we have Savannah, Sweet Pea would be company for her, but can I trust Savannah at this young age to play nice all day with him when there's no one here to supervise all that play time?  Letting Savannah and Sweet Pea have the run of the TV room, kitchen, and breakfast room would be fine for an older, more mature dog, but Savannah is still so young, and not very mature at all.

So while my husband is excited about planning a trip, I'm already anxious about what to do with Savannah while we're traveling.  My husband says that he's not going to let a dog rule his life. Well. I can understand that to a point. I'm not wanting a dog to 'rule' my life either, but we are responsible for Savannah and for her safety and well-being, and that's just that.

Got an ark?

We've had more rain than we needed. Or rather more rain than we needed in one day. Everything here was soaked beyond belief, and only with careful attention to the rain showers' on-and-off pattern was I able to get Savannah walked without needing a boat to get up and down the road.

There hasn't been one rain drop out here today, but parts of the Houston area are still trying to cope with flooded streets and homes. My husband thought today would be a good day for the dog park, being that the weather was warm and sunny. I was going to suggest that we wait till the end of the week, but he wanted to get away from his computer, and Savannah saw Gary putting on a baseball cap which is her signal that a car ride is about to happen. So off we went, with one happy dog sitting in the back seat and hanging her head out the window to catch a breeze.

The dog park was a blessed mess. The gravel walkways had been inundated with all of that rain and the grass and debris that the rain-water stirred up was stuck on all of the fences around the park. Part of the fencing nearest to the surrounding creek had completely fallen down, leaving a huge open gap between the park and the creek and the pastures beyond. Big puddles were everywhere, so huge that you would think the park had ponds in all the corners. The swimming pools were filled to the brim, and when we got there, a dog named Ruby was up to her ears in the big-dog pool.

Savannah has played with Ruby before, and they play well because they're the same age and size. When Savannah saw Ruby in the pool, she jumped right in and they were walking around the ledge on the shallow side, and both dogs even swam a few strokes when they realized they had walked into the deeper center of the pool. When they came out of the pool, they chased each other in the wet grass, most of which was mud, and then they ran along the graveled path which was mostly dirt now because of the rain. Then into the pool they jumped... then out into the mud.... repeat, repeat, repeat. Needless to say, Savannah and Ruby had a blast.

We didn't stay at the park too long this afternoon. Every time I saw that dirt on Savannah's white fur, I knew that she'd need a good hosing-down before we could put her into the car. And that's exactly what we did.... there is a dog-washing station just outside the gate of the play areas, and we took Savannah there and wet her down with the hose to get the dirt and mud off of her. Wonder of wonders, she seemed to like it, and she just sat there on the concrete while I cleaned her off.

My guess is that it will be a good solid week before the fence at the dog park is repaired, and that's about how low it will take for everything to dry out there. I told my husband that for the rest of this week, the dog park isn't a good place for Savannah. Too much of the grassy areas are ponds, the gravel is gone from the paths and the red clay that's left is just too messy. And no matter how much Savannah likes that big-dog pool, it's not worth all the mud and dirt around the pool to make the trip worthwhile.

Savannah will be disappointed, but she'll get over it. And I'll have to remind Gary not to put his baseball cap on when Savannah is watching.

A deluge of rain...

...and one soaking-wet puppy. And one injured finger. And one very happy cat.

We have had over ten inches of rain. And of course, in parts of the downtown Houston area, the rain levels were over fifteen inches, with flooded streets and bayous and stranded cars and homes half under water. Out here in the hills, we just had rain... more than enough to top off all the ponds and creeks, and there were hundreds of croaking/singing frogs out in the fields last night. It is mid-afternoon as I type this and the sun is trying to come out, so my guess is that the storm has passed this part of the state.

The thunder and lightning last night was upsetting, especially when the power went out for a couple of hours, but Savannah didn't seem to mind the weather noise. She sat herself down next to my husband and leaned up against his legs and she was perfectly content. I tried to wait till the rain wasn't quite-so-pouring before taking her out last night, and that walk along the road was quick and successful, up to a point.

After Savannah did all there was to do out in our own grass, she noticed that the grass along the across-the-road-neighbor's fence was filled with rain water.... about six inches of it, to be precise. Well, I guess all of that water rushing downhill like a water-slide was just too much for a puppy to resist. Especially a puppy who has gotten quite used to jumping into the pools at the dog park. And this is where the 'one injured finger' comes into play.

I had Savannah's extra-long leash wrapped around my wrist, which is about normal when I walk her at night. However, because it was so dark outside (the power had gone out just minutes before I put the leash on her) and because I was trying to hold the leash and keep the hood of my jacket up, I didn't realize that Savannah was about to lunge into that deep water just the way she does in the pools at the park. When Savannah jumped into that downhill-deluge of rain water, the leash got caught around the middle finger of my left hand... the tip of my finger got pulled backwards and I literally saw stars. (And those stars weren't exactly up in the night sky.)

This morning, the tip of my index finger is black-and-blue and swollen. I doubt very much that it's broken because I can move it, and I'm also typing with it, so it's probably just strained. I'm lucky that Savannah's leash didn't get caught on my fingernail because it would surely have pulled out the whole nail. I screamed outside when my finger got pulled back, but of course no one heard me except Savannah, who quickly stopped when she landed belly-deep in that huge puddle.

I was too stunned and hurt at the time to say anything more than "Damn it Savannah!" but that was enough to get her attention and avoid any further puddle-jumping on her part. My finger is still black-and-blue, and I can't lift much with my left hand because I can't really use that middle finger for anything other than hitting a letter on my keyboard. This too shall pass, I guess.

The one very happy cat, however, is Sweet Pea.  When we came back inside from the rain last night, Sweet Pea was sleeping in Savannah's bed, all curled up just as nice as you please as if he intended to spend the night in that particular spot. Savannah watched Sweet Pea as I dried her off with a towel, and when I released my hold on Savannah, she walked into the breakfast room, gave Sweet Pea one long good look as he slept in her bed, and then this puppy just curled up right next to that cat... both of them snuggled up in that big dog-bed and looking quite content. Neither one of them moved, neither one wanted to give in or give up... so they slept together for a good long while until a jolt of thunder split the sky and then Sweet Pea got up and went to the TV room.

This morning, Sweet Pea was again curled up in Savannah's bed as if he owned it, and once again, Savannah just walked into her bed and set herself down right next to the cat and they both were napping together and looking as cute as a Hallmark card.

Rain, rain, go away...

...Savannah wants to go out and play.  (A rainy day always reminds me of that old song.)

As much as Savannah likes the rain, she didn't fool around outside this morning. There was no jumping in puddles and sliding into the tall grass to capture a bluebonnet when I walked her this morning.  Savannah did find a pecan in the grass and she bit through the shell, leaving most of the pieces for the birds and squirrels to find. But then she did everything she had to do and we were back up on the porch before I was soaking sopping wet. I thanked Savannah many times for such a surprising rainy-day walk.

No dog park this weekend, with all the rain we're supposed to have today. The last time we were at the park, a Pit Bull named Buddy was there with his macho owner, both of whom we haven't met but we've heard all the horrible Buddy-stories about that dog's fights with other dogs. So when we see that dark brown/white-faced Pit Bull in the park, we just don't go into the big-dog area. Instead, we took Savannah into the little-dog park, which is much smaller, with less trees, a smaller gazebo, and a smaller swimming pool. Savannah doesn't seem to mind. Actually, I think she likes that smaller dog-biscuit-shaped pool because she can literally walk right across it without having to swim since it's so shallow.

As we played with Savannah in the little-dog park, other dogs and their owners arrived and went into the big-dog park. I heard Buddy's owner telling the people "He's a friendly dog, don't worry," and I had to remind myself of the stories told to us by dog owners who had to rush their dogs to the vet after being attacked by 'friendly' Buddy.  So we just stayed in the little-dog park and Savannah didn't seem to mind, and hardly even looked across the fence at the other dogs playing in the larger pool.

Savannah has been showing a lot of affection lately... she never lets my husband sit in the TV room without walking up to him and resting her head on his feet or his lap, and she will bring him her toys when he tosses them across the room. When we're at the park, Savannah doesn't get the gist of "Fetch!" but I think that's because there are too many distractions there. At home, however, when you throw one of her toys, she will bring it back to us and wait there till it's tossed again. And again. We get tired of the game before Savannah does.

With the summer coming along faster than expected, we've been making inquiries about pet-sitters for Savannah. I thought we could have friend Cindy take care of Savannah when we travel, but I don't think that's going to work out very well. With Savannah being still very much a puppy, I don't think we can trust her to be in the house for hours on end without having anyone here with her.  Cindy has a job and her own responsibilities, and taking care of our cats is quick and easy, but taking care of Savannah is a job in itself. So we thought finding a pet-sitter who can either stay here with Savannah or take Savannah to her house would be better for everyone.

One of our neighbors recommended Amy... an enthusiastic pet-lover beyond measure, we're told, and we're hoping that she and Savannah will 'click.'  Within the next few days, we'll have Amy here and we'll see if Savannah will give her paw of approval.

Sweet Dreams

Savannah has been sleeping much better at night this week, which means I am also. I've learned that this dog can hear a car coming up the road, and that will get her to start growling when the car is all the way down the hill. As the car comes closer to our driveway, that's when she will start barking. I think Savannah has learned the 'normal' sounds on our hill and a neighbor coming home late at night is not at all normal to this super-protective puppy.

There have been raccoons in the driveway late at night but Savannah is getting selective at what she's barking at now. I've seen one particular raccoon that walks around the road by the end of our driveway... he's huge, and the first time I saw him I thought it was a medium-sized dog out there. Savannah never did bark at that raccoon but I think that's because he didn't come up to the porch.

It's sometimes a challenge to walk Savannah along the road during the day... she is still trying to chase pick-up trucks that she doesn't like. I know that she recognizes Judy's truck because Savannah will just stand quietly in the road and watch as it gets closer to us, and then Judy says 'Hello Miss Savannah!' and I'm sure that this puppy thinks she's going to get a treat.

Three of the other neighbors have pick-up trucks, and when Savannah sees their vehicles she will try and lunge at them at the very least, and bark and growl at them if it's after dark. Those neighbors haven't met Savannah because they tend to stay to themselves and don't socialize much (if at all) so that could be why Savannah doesn't like them.... she just doesn't know them.

As I type this, Savannah is in her bed and sound asleep. She has had her morning walk, and her morning chase-Sweet-Pea-around-the-kitchen-island-and-into-the-breakfast-room-and-then-around-the-sofa-in-the-TV-room ritual.  Sweet Pea tolerates this behavior to a point, and if he's not in the mood he will swat Savannah on her nose and then call out with a plaintive meow that sounds like the sky is falling on his kitty head. Of course Sweet Pea isn't hurt, but I think he's just wanting to get my attention. (As in "Look at what I have to put up with because of this puppy of yours!")

I bought a new cover for Savannah's bed the other day, being that she had torn a hole in the red-and-white-checked tablecloth that was on there to hide the holes she put into the actual fabric of the bed. The newest cover is also a tablecloth, green/beige/burgundy plaid, which matches the colors of the rug that's in the middle of the breakfast room. This latest bed-cover looks very preppy, as opposed to the Italian-restaurant-tablecloth-look of the first one. I intend to look at the tablecloths in the thrift store every time I go into town, so I'll always have a back-up cover for Savannah's bed. I just refuse to get this puppy a new bed until I'm sure she won't be chewing holes in it.

Speaking of chewing.... I had gone upstairs the other day and I guess I spent too much time in the library for Savannah's liking. When I got back down here, Savannah was stretched out on the sofa in the TV room, surrounded by bits and pieces of the corner of the sofa cushion. What in the blessed world?!  (Which is about what I said out loud when I saw the mess she had made.)

Thankfully, she must have just started chewing on that cushion because just the corner of it was torn off and shredded. Bits of fabric and form were in a pile on the carpet below that one side of the sofa. The TV room sofa is old, but had Sweet Pea not damaged the back of it with his nails, and had Savannah not torn off the corner of that seat cushion, the 'oldness' of that piece of furniture wouldn't be an issue.

Now it's an issue, and will need to be replaced. For the time being, I've turned that cushion upside-down, and I don't let Savannah stay in that room unless I'm in there with her or at least nearby so I can hear her if she does something stupid.  We'll be replacing that sofa at some point, getting a much larger one, but I don't want to do that until I know for sure that Savannah knows the difference between the sofa and one of her chew-toys.

I've never had these problems with a dog before. Years ago when I had little dogs, neither one of them chewed anything but their toys. When my husband and I had Gracie, the only thing she chewed was the corner of a blanket that was in her crate, and a piece of cardboard that she found on the floor of the laundry room. No other chewing at all, and Gracie was a 48-pound Border Collie/Black Lab mix.

Savannah's mix of Border Collie and Great Pyrenees has been a challenge. In some ways, she has been the very best dog, and in other ways I'm still asking myself if I lost my mind the day I told my husband that we should get another dog.

Savannah's Puppy Diary

Momma keeps saying Happy Birthday Savannah Happy Birthday but I don't know exactly what That means yet.  I don't think it's a Bad Thing because Momma doesn't have her Hands On Her Hips when she's telling me that. Momma told Me that I am One Year Old Today and That means I Should Behave More Like a Lady and Less Like a Puppy HaHaHa. Momma didn't need that HaHaHa at the end of Those Words because I saw The Look on Her Face and I know She Was Serious.

This morning Momma came into the TV Room when Sweet Pea and I were Running and Jumping On The Sofa and then Momma stood By The Door and said What On Earth Is Going On In Here It Sounds Like I Have Two Elephants In This House.  I think that was a Bad Thing because Momma had her Hands On Her Hips and then I tried to Hide Behind The Sofa and Sweet Pea Looked Out The Window At The Birds till Momma left the room. It's always easier for Sweet Pea to Get Out Of Trouble because he just Goes To The Window and Looks At The Birds as if he's Never Seen A Bird Before.

Daddy keeps looking Out The Window too but he's Looking For The Sun because he said Savannah Should Go To The Dog Park Today For Her Birthday. Momma says it Looks Like Rain and it's Too Cloudy and Too Damp for the Park today. I don't understand That because I Get Wet in the Park anyway when I Jump Into The Pool but Daddy says Momma is Looking For A Perfect Day and we'll Just Celebrate Your Birthday At The Park On Another Day Savannah.

When Momma filled up my Water Bowl this Morning she told me Happy Birthday Savannah. And when I got a Treat for Letting Sweet Pea Get Some Rest Momma said Happy Birthday again. When Momma put some Food in my Bowl she said Happy Birthday Savannah Would You Like A Candle On Top Of That.  Then Daddy said We Didn't Get Savannah A Birthday Gift but Momma said Every Day Is A Gift For Savannah and then Momma said when she Comes Back In Another Life she wants to be a Dog or a Cat in a House with Someone Like Her taking care of The Pets.

After Breakfast today Daddy gave me some of his Bagel and it had Creamed Cheese and Lox on it so he saved me Some of Everything not Just The Bread. And then After Lunch I got a Little Piece of Momma's Toast and it had Nuts in it and Apple Butter on top of it. Then I got a Smoked Pig Ear to chew on and Momma said Just What Every Puppy Wants Savannah The Smoked Ear Of A Dead Pig MmmMmmMmm.  I think that's sort of like HaHaHa but I'm not sure. I don't know if the Pig Ear is a Good Thing for Momma because she holds it In Just Two Fingers and then Scrunches Up Her Face when she Gives It To Me. The Pig Ear is Good And Crunchy and I usually Take It Behind The Sofa so I don't have to Share it with Sweet Pea.

Daddy said that Momma should Bake Savannah A Nice Big Chocolate Birthday Cake but Momma said that Chocolate Isn't Good For Dogs and Daddy said Oh Yeah HaHaHa Sorry Savannah. So I don't think I'm Getting a Nice Big Chocolate Birthday Cake but I hope that Momma has more Dead Pig Ears in that Cabinet in the Kitchen MmmMmmMmm.

When the Mailman came today Momma said Look Savannah This One Is For You and she showed me a Card With Flowers on it and then Momma read to me Dear Savannah Here Is A Field Of Flowers For You To Bite The Heads Off Of In Case You Run Out Have A Happy Puppy Birthday Love Miss Janice.

Well I don't Exactly Know what a Birthday is and I Never Got Mail before but I think that I Just Got Permission from Miss Janice to Go Outside and Bite the Heads Off of the Bluebonnets so if that's what a Birthday means then I think This Puppy needs to have Lots More Birthdays.

Puppy See, Puppy Do.

There are days when Savannah is the best puppy on the planet. And then there are the rest of the days. Oh well. I'm hoping that this puppy-hood will soon be on its way out, especially since Savannah will be one year old tomorrow.

I have to say that before we started taking Savannah to the dog park, she was indeed the most well-behaved puppy. I used to call her my 'old soul' because she would sit quietly and just watch everything that was going on, following me from one room to the other, playing with her toys and carrying them from one room to the other and using the soft ones as little pillows to lay her chin on. Savannah in her puppy-hood was often a Norman Rockwell painting come to life. Now there are days when I compare her to a somewhat frantic Picasso and I blame some of that on the dog park.

The first time at the dog park, Savannah was hesitant and not very confident about the entire atmosphere there. So much grass, so many dogs, and not a leash in sight. And even a swimming pool... puppy heaven for sure. As Savannah came into contact with the other dogs there, her hesitancy disappeared, and her confidence soared, both of which are very good things. We think that she learned some confident behavior patterns from the other dogs at the park, and we kept her away from the aggressive dogs there because we certainly didn't want her learning that sort of behavior. We wanted a puppy, not a bully.

However.... the results of the dog park do not go away once we're out of the park and back home.  We have much more property than the park, but we can't let Savannah run around here because she's likely to chase a vehicle going up the road or chase an animal off into the woods, both of which would not be very good things.  That same boundless puppy-devil-may-care attitude that Savannah picked up from the dog park translates into a wild-and-carefree puppy here on our own property at times. And, as puppy-luck would have it, those times tend to be rainy days, windy days, or just days when I need her to do her business outside and do it quickly because I have to get into town for an appointment.  And those are the days that I remind myself that it was my brilliant idea to get another dog, so I have no one else to blame for the puppy-insanity that clouds my life from time to time.

On the bright side, and there is always a bright side... Savannah slept well last night and the night before. The cat-toy that the raccoon destroyed is now in the recycle bin, and I'm hoping that particular raccoon finds something on a far-away porch to play with at one o'clock in the morning.

My husband keeps saying that Savannah "has come a long way" since we brought her home on September 12th.  He usually says this when Savannah is leaning up against his leg as he's watching TV or sitting next to him as he's eating a slice of pizza and she's waiting for her share of the crust. And indeed, Gary is right... Savannah has come a long way from that very frightened and insecure puppy of seven months ago.

Without a doubt, Savannah has grown from a cute puppy into a beautiful dog. Everyone at the dog park comments on her glossy coat and fluffy tail, her bright eyes and her over-all pretty puppy self. However... when Savannah is standing in the middle of the road in the rain and lifting her puppy nose into the air to sniff the raindrops and catch some of them in her open mouth which is already filled with bluebonnets, I need to remember how good she is most of the time.

Raccoons on the porch...

...after midnight, of course.

Savannah didn't really wake me up this time. I heard a very low bark from her, nothing frantic, but she did that twice and I decided to get up and come downstairs because I wasn't sleeping anyway. When I looked out on the porch, I could see wet tracks of a raccoon, right on the porch near a plastic cat toy that's been out there for months now.

The toy is a round plastic circle with a deep groove along the sides... a plastic ball is in that groove, and the cats spin that ball around and around without being able to release it. The raccoon, however, was able to get the little ball out of the groove and it was left on the porch. That's what Savannah must have heard, and I'm actually surprised that she didn't give forth her roaring bark. In the morning, I will put that plastic toy into the recycle box.

Savannah has been very good these past couple of nights. She barked last night (probably more raccoons on the porch) but I did just what the Great Pyrenees web-site suggested--- I came downstairs, looked out on the porch, then reassured Savannah that everything was okay. I gave her a hug and then she settled down and went back to sleep and I didn't hear another peep out of her for the rest of the night.

This afternoon, one of the neighbors had an outside party with lots of people and hours of music. Savannah was sitting on the porch and just watching the world go by before the music started, and as soon as it did, she wanted to come back into the house. I think she has become accustomed to the relative quiet out here and when that's disrupted, Savannah is not at all happy and her 'safe place' is inside the house, not out in the yard or on the porch.

The neighbor's party lasted all day long and the music didn't stop till after dinner-time. During the day, I had to take Savannah outside to visit the grass, and she walked right towards the backyard each time, not wanting to go down the driveway and towards the road. That was fine with me, because I've been trying to get her to use the backyard grass instead of the grass along the side of the road.

Some of the music today was Mexican, and when Savannah heard that, her ears went back, her tail went down, and she quickly used the grass and then ran up the stairs of the back deck and headed for the door. This isn't the first time she has reacted that way to Mexican music or people speaking Spanish. When we adopted this puppy, the two women we met from Savannah's previous family were Mexican.  Both seemed very nice, and the young girl even gave Savannah a big hug before we left to take Savannah home with us. It's possible that the other family members didn't treat Savannah as well as the two women did, and when we first brought Savannah home, she would have nothing to do with men, even my husband. I don't think this Princess Puppy was treated as the princess she wanted to be in that previous situation.

I couldn't sleep tonight because I was thinking about Gatsby, our outside cat that we had to put to sleep a few days ago. Gatsby used to follow me around the porch and the yard when I was outside, and I was constantly tripping over him or having to walk around him. I can't even count the number of times I would tell that cat "Kill me now, Gatsby, just kill me now!" as I tried to avoid stepping on him as he weaved himself around my legs as I walked.

Our inside cat Sweet Pea has been sitting by the screen door and meowing, and I'm guessing that he's calling for Gatsby and wondering why he isn't on the other side of that screen anymore. Our other outside cat, Mickey, is now sleeping in Gatsby's bed instead of his own. Mickey spent three days walking around the yard and positively howling as he looked for Gatsby. No one can convince me that animals, whether domesticated or wild, do not have feelings and emotions.

I don't know if Savannah realizes that Gatsby is gone. This puppy was very friendly with Gatsby right from the start, and that's probably because Gatsby was the first of the cats to accept her and make friends.  Gatsby followed us up the road when we walked Savannah, and never failed to walk underneath Savannah when she was out in the yard. If Savannah is missing her walking-buddy, she has given me no indication that she's aware that we have one less cat in our family.

As I've been typing, Savannah has bothered me twice to go outside. I've been determined not to walk her on the road or along the driveway at night. There's a good-sized patch of grass by the back porch steps and that's where I've been taking her at night. The first time I brought her outside a little while ago, she was trying to pull me towards the driveway, and I just stood there and pulled her back towards that smaller patch of grass. She looked at me, sniffed the grass a bit, but didn't do anything.

I gave her about three minutes and then brought her back into the house. Then I resumed typing. About ten minutes later, Savannah again gave me her signal to go outside. Back on went my coat and her leash, and I took her to that same small patch of grass near the steps. When she gave me that puppy-look of hers, I just stood there with my hands on my hips and told her if she had to go, then that grass was her only choice until the sun came up.

Success. Savannah made a big show of pacing back and forth in that small patch of grass till she found the perfect spot and then she squatted down to pee. It's these little things that make puppy-mommas proud.

Savannah's Puppy Diary

Momma has been in A Better Mood for the last Two Days. That's probably because she Came Down The Stairs and Gave Me A Hug and said Thank You For Letting Me Sleep Savannah. Well, if that's All It Takes for Momma to Be in a Better Mood then she should Hug Me Every Morning instead of staying Up All Night and Reading About Puppies Who Bark After Midnight.

I am Trying to be on My Best Behavior because both Momma and Daddy have told me that My First Birthday is Next Week. I don't exactly Know what That means but they're Making A Big Deal out of this Birthday Thing. Daddy said We should Do Something Special like Take Savannah to the Dog Park and give Treats to All The Dogs there. Momma says She should do Something More Special like Hide Under The Covers and Catch Up on All The Sleep that She Lost This Week. I tried to tell Momma that maybe The Sleep she Lost is in the Same Place as My Blue Monkey. Momma thinks I didn't notice that she Took Away My Last Blue Monkey when I Bit His Tail Off so I keep looking in The Bluebonnets and maybe I'll find a New Blue Monkey growing out there.

Momma also didn't notice that I saw her Getting In The Car With Gatsby the other day and when she Came Back Home again Gatsby wasn't with her. I tried to Ask Momma if she Lost Gatsby Somewhere but she was Too Busy Holding Tissues On Her Eyes and didn't see that I had Something To Say. For the Last Two Days both Sweet Pea and Mickey have been Meowing and Meowing and Meowing and I think they're trying to Ask Momma where Gatsby is but Momma just keeps telling the Cats that Gatsby Was Sick and Now He's In Fancy Feast Heaven. I can't figure out what That means but I don't think Gatsby is coming back from Heaven because now there's just One Dish Of Cat Food on the Porch instead of Two. Momma told Daddy that the Porch seems Empty without Gatsby on it and Daddy said Maybe Another Stray Cat Will Show Up HaHaHa and Momma's answer to that was Over My Dead Body.

We went to the Dog Park this afternoon because Daddy said it was Too Nice A Day To Sit Inside And Work On The Taxes.  When we got to the Park there was just Momma and Daddy and Me and Daddy threw the Ball for me to Catch but I didn't bring it Back to him because Momma read in a Book that Great Pyrenees dogs don't Play Fetch and I'm trying to Follow All The Rules so Momma doesn't Lose Any More Sleep.

The Three Of Us walked around the Park and then two Dogs and Two Men walked into the Gate and Momma said Uh-Oh and she made me Follow Her to where Daddy was Sitting and she Told Daddy to Keep Savannah On Her Leash A Minute and then Momma went to ask those men What Kind Of Dogs they had there.  When I heard them say Pit Bulls Momma told them to Keep Their Dogs Away From Her Dog so she could Get Savannah Out Of The Big Dog Park and Into The Little Dog Park. Then Momma asked the man Are Those Dogs Fixed? and I heard Momma say Well That Figures.

Next Thing I Knew Daddy took me into The Little Dog Park and we stayed there with the Little Puppy Pool instead of The Big Dog Pool and there was a Little Bit Of Grass instead of All That Grass In The Big Dog Park. I took one look at the Puppy Pool and decided that I could Walk Right Across It From One End To The Other Without Having To Swim and that's just what I did and Momma said You Are A Brave Girl Savannah. I walked over to Momma thinking I was going to Get A Hug but Momma said Oh Savannah You Are All Wet Now so I guessed that meant that Wet Dogs Don't Get Hugs Until They Dry Off.

Sweet Pea is sitting by the Screen Door right now and he's Meowing and Meowing and I think he's still Looking For Gatsby. I've tried to tell Sweet Pea that Gatsby Isn't Coming Back Here but I don't think he believes that yet.  Momma says Cats Don't Believe Everything They See and Hear Until They Find Out For Themselves because a Cat Is A Cat And That's That.

Sweet Pea and Mickey are Missing Gatsby and I am too because Gatsby used to Walk All The Way Up The Road With Us. But not All The Time. Just when he Felt Like It. I guess that's Just Part of Being A Cat.

I think Barking After Midnight is Just Part of Being A Puppy but I don't think I'll tell That to Momma yet because that Might Take Away Her Better Mood HaHaHa.

Lessons on the Great Pyrenees

Being that I was awake for most of last night, I decided to search the Internet for web-sites about the Great Pyrenees breed. I sat here reading site after site, the best one written by a man who raises and sells Pyr puppies (as he calls them).

First and foremost, the Pyrs have been specifically bred for centuries to be guard dogs, especially during the hours of midnight and six o'clock in the morning when night-time predators will assault sheep and goats, or any other livestock one might have. Pyrs will sleep all day like a cat so they can patrol their property at night, all night, until the sun comes up. Then they're exhausted and will sleep all day long if  you let them.

That roaring bark that Savannah has is typical for this breed... that's their major alarm to scare off predators and let their owners know that something has come close to attacking their livestock. And that one-bark bark that comes just about every hour during the night (and wakes me up each time)--- according to that web-site, that single bark is not telling me that Savannah has to go out... she is letting me know that she has looked into every corner of the kitchen and breakfast room and there isn't a soul in her territory who is a threat to anyone in her charge.

Give me a blessed break.

The site also said that trying to teach a Great Pyrenees to not bark or bark less is impossible. That nocturnal barking trait is in them, period, and if you can't live with that, then you cannot live with a Great Pyrenees. It's that simple.  This is what we get for not doing the proper research on this particular breed. This is also what we get for falling head-over-heels with all of those Great Pyrenees dogs that march in our town's Christmas Parade every December. (The web-site also mentioned that hundreds of Pyrs are given up to rescue organizations every year because the people who fell in love with those fluffy puppies cannot tolerate their night-time behavior as they grow into adult dogs.)

Well. As of this morning, I have a different attitude. Which makes me think of the Mary Engelbreit drawing of a pouty/cranky little girl standing over the words 'Must. Change. Attitude.' Well, indeed I must, because lately I have been both pouty and cranky. (And exhausted.)

No matter how tired I am after not being able to sleep through most nights because of Savannah's barking, I cannot fault her for doing the job she was born to do, and doing it well. The site did suggest that praising the Pyrs for their night-time barks will comfort them and please them. After all, who doesn't like to be praised and thanked for a job well done?

I've considered the idea of bringing Savannah upstairs with me tonight, and keeping her on the leash so she won't go roaming into other rooms or down the stairs to the front rooms or up the stairs to the library. If I tie the leash to the foot of the bed, that would keep her in our bedroom but the long leash would let her walk around the room comfortably. However.... if my husband gets out of bed and trips on the leash.... or if Savannah decides that sleeping on the bed is preferable to sleeping by the side of the bed.... will I be able to move that 65-pound body of hers? Or will I be forced to hug the side of the mattress while Princess Puppy takes up most of the king-sized bed?

Not getting a good night's sleep for the past two nights has taken its toll on me today. Added to that, I had to bring one of our outside cats to the vet's office today. Gatsby has been suffering from feline vestibular disease and the medications were no longer having any effect on his 12-year-old body. Gatsby lived a quiet and dignified life, and I wanted him to have the same advantage at the end of his life, so we had him put down. It has been a bittersweet day, with Mickey looking for Gatsby all over the yard, and Sweet Pea standing by the kitchen door waiting for Gatsby to come up on the porch.  I don't know if Savannah has realized that Gatsby is no longer here... she was too busy sleeping all day because she was up all night.

Every couple of hours, however, I made sure to wake Savannah up today... I put her leash on her and took her for walks... I turned on the vacuum and ran it over the carpets in the TV room and breakfast room even though they didn't really need it. Savannah got up when I wanted her to, but as soon as we got back in the house from walking, and as soon as I put the vacuum into the closet, there she was in her bed, sound asleep and snoring the day away.

Savannah needs her beauty sleep during the day so she can be on her best puppy-patrol behavior during the night. I think I should call the vet in the morning and ask him if there is a mild sedative that can be given to Savannah at night so she will sleep peacefully.

This is what my life has come to.... contemplating a sleeping pill for a nearly-one-year-old puppy whose sole aim in life is to protect my life.

1:00 in the blasted morning...

.....and patience has gone right out the proverbial puppy window.  This is the second time tonight that Savannah has barked, and from what I could see, there was nothing, absolutely nothing/zilch/nada on the back porch or in the yard. My guess is that she needed to go out because when I walked her up and down by the driveway at ten o'clock, all she did was try and catch the June-bugs and moths by the outside lights. When I put my head down on that pillow at 10:30, I knew I'd be walking under the moon and the stars before too long.

Savannah barked the first time at midnight, so I came downstairs and brought her outside, right in the grass near the back steps, thinking (silly me) that this would be a quick trip because the last time she peed was at 7:30. (Isn't this ridiculous? Having to keep track of the last pee so I can determine how many hours I get to sleep before a certain puppy starts to bark?)

When I took Savannah outside at midnight, all she did was pull up bits of grass, chase some moths, and generally look off into the darkness as if Godzilla were lurking at the edge of the woods. Savannah was not wanting to use the grass by the back steps and I was not wanting to walk her up by the road. A puppy stand-off if ever there was one. I just didn't want to give in. I am so tired of being up along that road in the middle of the night that for two cents right now I would give this puppy to the first wagon-load of gypsies that happens to come by. I came back into the house, and I know that Savannah knew I was not pleased with her behavior. I cannot for the life of me understand how this puppy can be ready to play with moths and eat grass in the middle of the blasted night. I took off her leash, took off my coat, didn't say a word to her at all, and went back upstairs, knowing that she'd be barking for me again before too long.

An hour later, one bark came from the bottom of the stairs. Savannah's signal that she has to go out. Down into the kitchen I came, on went the coat and shoes, on went her leash, I took the flash-light and off we went. Again, I was determined to have this dog pee in the grass by the steps and not have to go up to the road. And again... what did she do? Play with the grass.... try to catch a moth or two... and stare off into the darkness. Okay, puppy, you woke me up, now I'm going to wake you up.

Up and down that patch of grass I went, as fast as I possibly could, dragging Savannah with me, not giving her time to catch a blasted moth or get one blade of grass between her teeth. Sixteen times up and down that courtyard path is what I counted, and I was so upset with this dog I could have taken her by the paws and just shaken some puppy sense into her. But what the heck? I was wide awake anyway, and I was sick and tired of being tired and being waken up so she could play in the grass and I could get a look at the stars. The sky is beautiful out here, but I've seen it way too many times now to even appreciate it. I was just determined to tire this dog out so she was as tired as I felt at that moment.

On the 17th time walking down that courtyard patch of grass, I slowed down and so did Savannah. She looked at me then, one long searching look as if she were saying "Have you lost your mind, truly lost your mind?"  And then she took two steps, just two puppy steps, and she peed in the grass. And then I walked up the porch steps, back into the house, took off her leash and my coat, and Savannah slowly walked into the breakfast room and plopped her tired puppy self into her bed. And that's where she is as I'm typing this.

I'm hoping that Savannah has gotten the message that if she barks to go out, then she had better do something and do it quickly out there or I will be racing her up and down that courtyard grass until she's dizzy and tired and has to pee just so she will be brought back into the house and be allowed to rest. As I typed that, it sounds so childish. Sort of "Okay, you got me up, so now I'm going to keep you up."  My answer to that is if this is what it takes to get a decent night's sleep, then so be it.  I don't mind taking Savannah outside if she truly has to go... but damn it all, if I can make the effort to get her out there into the grass, then she'd better make the effort to go.

Another sleepless night...

I was up four times during the night... twice to take Savannah outside to the grass, and twice to just come downstairs to the kitchen and reassure this puppy that the raccoons on the porch could not get into the back door and steal her dog biscuits.

As promised to myself, I have not gotten upset with her during these night-time barking sessions. Savannah is nearly a year old now, and I've learned that she does not bark at nothing.  I've also learned that this watch-dog behavior is not about to quit anytime soon, if at all.

During my after-midnight visits to the kitchen, I've been searching the Internet for solutions to the powerful night-time roaring barks of the Great Pyrenees. The solution?  Simple--- deal with it.  Just. Deal. With. It. Period.

This breed is known for their protectiveness, whether it be towards their people, the livestock in the fields, or the other pets in the house. After dark, it is part of the Great Pyrenees instinct to guard everything and everyone, protecting them from anything that the dog senses could be a danger. And that 'danger' could be anything from a mountain lion to a moth, and everything else in-between. Oh goodie. Obviously, neither my husband nor I knew that before we decided to adopt this puppy. And that surprises me to no end, because my husband researches every little thing on this planet, but we did absolutely no research whatsoever on the Pyrenees breed.

And why did we even think of a Great Pyrenees.... I blame our somewhat questionable decision on the annual Christmas Parade in our little sleepy town.  We watched the Great Pyrenees Rescue Group walk those beautiful dogs up and down the town's Main Street... so beautiful, so calm, such a regal and distinguished presence.  My husband and I both agreed--- "If we ever get another dog again, we'll look for a Pyrenees."  And so we did.... and history has been unfolding since September 12th of last year.  This past December we took Savannah into town for the Christmas Parade and the three of us sat on the steps of the courthouse and watched those serene and regal dogs walk down Main Street. And my husband and I both agreed--- "Next Christmas, we will walk Savannah with the other Pyrenees in the Christmas Parade."

The night before last, Savannah barked at an armadillo who had the nerve to walk around the lawn on the kitchen side of the house. Last night, two raccoons dared to come up on the back porch, which is right outside the kitchen. Savannah sleeps either in the kitchen or the breakfast room at night, so of course she hears everything that goes on in the yard. I thought of keeping her in the TV room at night with Sweet Pea but I don't trust Savannah to not bother Sweet Pea when he doesn't want to be bothered. Savannah wants to play with Sweet Pea constantly, and all Sweet Pea wants to do is be a cat. So keeping them both together in one room at night may be taking chances with our cat's emotional stability. I don't think Savannah would hurt Sweet Pea at all, but I don't want a very good cat to feel intimidated by a relentless wide-awake dog in the middle of the night when I'm upstairs.

After all the reading I've done on the web-sites for the Great Pyrenees, I've come to the sad conclusion that "it is what it is" with this dog. Savannah is a mix of Border Collie and Great Pyrenees and after having her all of these months now, I've learned that she is more Pyrenees than Collie, especially between the hours of midnight and six o'clock in the morning.

One of the web-sites suggested that reassuring your dog during the night-time barking may be beneficial, allowing the dog to feel as if it's done its job properly and it will rest and possibly go to sleep.  Ignoring the after-midnight barking of a Great Pyrenees is like trying to ignore the engines of a jet plane as it takes off from a runway, should that runway be right behind your house. And I have to admit that Savannah's day-time barking can in no way compare to the decibel-level of her night-time roaring.

I'm seriously considering asking the vet if there is a medication that Savannah can be given before we go upstairs at night. Possibly something that would allow her to sleep a little better and not be aware of every cricket or spider or raccoon that walks across the porch.

As I type this, Savannah is in her bed in the breakfast room, quite near the table where my laptop is. This puppy is snoring, and must be dreaming because her legs are twitching a bit. After I finish typing this paragraph, I'm going to get Savannah's leash, wake her up, and take her for a good long walk. It won't help much, because no matter how much exercise she gets during day-light, she is still on High Alert as soon as it gets dark. Homeland Puppy Security at its very best.

Oh well. We wanted a Great Pyrenees and that's what we've got... and she barks at everything after midnight. One of the web-sites said that the shelters and rescue organizations are always over-flowing with Great Pyrenees whose owners have given them up. Why? Because of one thing that the owners couldn't cope with: the relentless night-time barking.

We took Savannah to the dog park this afternoon... we talked to a very nice young couple who had two dogs-- Lola (a 60-pound Husky mix) and Roxie (an all-black German Shepherd puppy who will grow to be over 100 pounds). Both were friendly and playful and Savannah loved running around the grass with them. Savannah was so happy with our little group that she even let herself get close enough to be petted by both of the owners, something she never ever does in that park. "Such a beautiful dog," they said.... "Such beautiful eyes, looks like she has make-up on," they told us.

"What made you decide to get a Great Pyrenees?" the couple wanted to know.  I resisted the urge to tell that nice young girl that we became temporarily insane last September and decided we really didn't need that much sleep at night anymore.  Instead, we told them about the Christmas Parade and all of the Great Pyrenees walking down Main Street.... and then my husband told them that we're planning to walk Savannah in this year's parade come December.

And so we shall. I just hope Savannah lets me get enough sleep the night before we have to walk down Main Street.

3:45 in the morning...

... and this is the third time I've had to walk down the stairs since 10:30 last night. I've come to the conclusion that no matter how much exercise Savannah gets during any particular day, her mission in this puppy life of hers is to serve and protect.

The first time Savannah barked, I came quietly downstairs and turned on the porch light and looked out to see if a visiting raccoon was out on the porch. I didn't see a thing, and by the time I had turned off the porch light, Savannah was back in her bed. The second time she exploded with barking, my husband went down the stairs because he was still awake and at his computer. I walked down the stairs just out of habit, and not even wide-awake enough to realize that he was on his way down to the kitchen. Gary got the flash-light and went out onto the porch and the back deck while Savannah watched his progress through the screen door.

When he came back into the house, my husband quietly told Savannah that nothing was out there, and she needed to go to sleep, and then he got down on the floor and gave her some big reassuring hugs. Gary went back upstairs and then I put my coat on and took Savannah out by the grass because I had noticed her water dish was empty. As soon as I got outside, I saw an armadillo that was slowly making its way down the driveway and out towards the road. Savannah saw the armadillo too and stood there wagging her tail and then looking at me as if to say "See?! I told you that something was out here!"  Then she peed in the grass, we came back inside, and I went upstairs thinking that that would be it for the rest of the  night. Silly me.

At 3:30, Savannah exploded with barking again. Rather than come down the stairs for another look-see out on the porch, I just called down to her from the upstairs hallway... telling her to go back to sleep. I was determined not to get mad at her, not to yell, and just accept the fact that for the next ten years or so this night-time protective barking will be par for the puppy course. (To anyone out there thinking of getting a Great Pyrenees pure-breed or mix, consider yourself forewarned. This breed is nocturnal to the max.)

Savannah stopped barking for about three minutes, then started again. And then again. By that time, I was somewhat wide awake and decided to just call it a night and get out of bed and start the day. I sat down at my laptop in the breakfast room and before my computer had a chance to ask for my password, Savannah's front paws were in my lap and she was giving me that incredibly serious look of hers that says I need to go out and I need to go out now.  On went my coat and shoes, on went her leash, and she peed in the grass as soon as we got out there. Fine. I don't mind taking her out at night as long as she's serious about doing something.

By that time I was really awake, so I turned on the lamp in the breakfast room and saw brown stuffing from Savannah's bed all over her corner of the room. Give me a blessed break. I had sewn up all the holes this puppy made last week, and then decided to cover her big pillow bed with an old sheet that had little palm trees all over it. After a few days of looking at those palm trees, I decided that Savannah's bed looked like what it was--- a big pillow covered with an old sheet. So I took a red and white checked tablecloth and used that to cover up the palm trees and everything else underneath. Savannah's bed looked like a fluffy table-top in an Italian restaurant, but at least the red and white checks looked better than the beach-y palm trees.

So sometime during the night when Savannah decided she needed to make another hole in her bed and remove more of the stuffing, she managed to get her nose underneath the red/white tablecloth, and underneath the palm-tree sheet.... and she tore open one of the sewn-up holes and pulled out the brown fiberfill. There was a puddle of that stuffing in the center of her bed and also on the floor surrounding her bed. Which was probably why she was sleeping by the back door and hearing every blasted little sound from the armadillo outside.

I picked up all the fiberfill, folded both the sheet and the checked tablecloth back underneath her pillow bed (which is becoming flatter and flatter every time she pulls out more stuffing) and right now as I type, Savannah is in her bed, sound asleep and snoring. I should go back to bed but I know that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep anymore.

I've been reading a book called "A Dog's Purpose" by W. Bruce Cameron.  I have heard a lot about this book, and I've read one other book by the same author. This book has given me some insight as to how a dog thinks, proving to me that Savannah doesn't think it's wrong to be barking in the middle of the night. It's her job to bark at night-time noises, it's her job to protect her property and her people, and it doesn't matter if a spaceship lands in the backyard or an armadillo is hunting for grubs.... this dog is going to alert her people that all is not right in her puppy world.

And that's the way it is. And that's the way it will be for the rest of Savannah's life (and mine) unless she gets hard-of-hearing in her older years. (Or unless I get hard-of-hearing in my older years.)

Savannah's Puppy Diary

Well. I have had some Busy Days lately. First Of All, Momma hasn't been All That Thrilled to be My Momma this week. More than once Momma has told me that I'm More Work Than I'm Probably Worth and I don't exactly know what That means but Momma said it every time I Made A Hole In My Bed and Momma had to first Pick Up The Stuffing and Then Vacuum the Breakfast Room and then Sew The Hole Up. By the time Momma was Finished Sewing All Those Holes my Bed looked like it had X's all over the sides. Momma said that she Wasn't Much Good With A Needle And Thread to begin with but Sewing At Three O'Clock In The Morning was Really Pushing It Savannah.

I think Momma got Really Sick and Tired of making all those X's because now my Bed is Covered with a Sheet that has Little Green Palm Trees All Over It. Those trees are enough to Make A Puppy Dizzy but I try to Keep My Eyes Closed when I get into my Bed now. Momma doesn't like the Little Trees either because I heard her telling Daddy that she would Have To Check The Store to see what Other Designs they had for a Dog Bed Cover that looked like it Belonged In The Breakfast Room instead of on a Lounge Chair At The Beach.

Momma is also Insisting that I Learn To Pee in the Grass by the Back Door so she doesn't have to be Walking On The Road After Dark. What? And Miss All The Fun? When we go By The Road At Night there are Hundreds of little Brown Bugs by the lights and there are Leaves that the Wind is Blowing and Grass That's High Enough To Jump In and lots of Bluebonnets To Eat. The Grass by the Back Door is Boring plus what Good-Mannered Puppy wants to Pee so Close to the House anyway. Momma just doesn't Understand but when I do Pee in that Little Patch of Grass I get a Treat when we come Back Into The House so at least that makes up for the Boring part.

Momma's Tea Ladies were here the Other Day and I made sure to Say Hello to Miss Judy and Miss Cindy because Both Of Them have Dogs of their own and they Understand that an Extra Treat or Cookie here and there isn't a Bad Thing. Miss Judy told Momma that I must be the Best Behaved Puppy On This Road and then Momma told Miss Judy to Come Back at Three O'Clock In The Morning when I'm Tearing A Hole in my Bed and Barking at a Cricket on the Porch. Miss Judy said HaHaHa but Momma didn't say HaHaHa back so I think She Was Serious. I'm still Waiting for Miss Judy to show up at Three O'Clock In The Morning but that hasn't happened yet.

Daddy bought me a New Toy and told Momma that he was Going To Play With Savannah Every Night Before Bed-Time so I would be So Worn Out that I wouldn't Bark in the Middle of The Night. Momma's answer to that was Keep Dreaming. My new Toy is a Thick Rope and Daddy gets on The Floor and Makes Believe he won't Give Me The Rope but then he Let's Me Take It and Run around the TV Room with it. Momma said I have to Be Careful not to step on Sweet Pea and she told Daddy to make sure he didn't Throw That Thing against the Windows.

For the Past Two Nights I was Very Tired when Momma and Daddy went Upstairs and I thought I heard a Raccoon on the porch last night but I just opened up One Eye and saw that my New Toy and my Treats were still here so I Went Back To Sleep.  When Momma comes down the Stairs in the Mornings now she says Thank You For Letting Me Sleep Savannah.

The book Momma is reading right now is called A Dog's Purpose and Momma told Daddy that the Story was written as if The Dog was writing it. Momma said the Dog in the story has More Than One Life and he Keeps Coming Back so he can Learn What His Purpose Is. Well I tried to tell Momma that I could have Written That Book In Four Words and Saved That Writer a Lot of Trouble.

Ask any Dog around what their Purpose is and the Answer would be To Love Their Humans. But then there's also A Purpose to Eat Some Bluebonnets and Tear A Hole In A Dog Bed and Chase A Cat once in a while. Dogs do All Of That Other Stuff to Make Sure that their Humans Love Them Back.

Momma said I have done Some Pretty Stupid Things This Week but then I look at Momma and I can See That She Loves Me Anyway because I Always Get A Hug after she takes her Hands Off Of Her Hips.