Cane Corso ears and West's Mom.

A reader, Liz (hi!), asked about Ryder's floppy ears.

You are correct, the breed standard calls for cut ears. But my mother is afraid of dogs and took forever to get used to Lola. If Ryder looked like this, she would NEVER come over. Not even if Ryder just saved Timmy from a well.

Robot also doesn't plan to show him, so he didn't feel the need to trim the ears.

Lola almost was a pug. Same look. Same temprament. I just went big.

In fact, each year in Chicago they have a Pug Crawl, where everyone brings their Pug out to walk a gauntlet of bars - pub crawl. I TOTALLY want to take Lola one year. "SO WHAT? SHE'S A BIIIG PUG! EVERYBODY LAUGH AND POINT AT THE BIG PUG! WELL YOU'RE NOT SO PERFECT YOURSELF MISTER! YOU HAVE SAD CALF MUSCLES AND A LARGE LUMPY HEAD! SEE? AND WE LET YOU WALK AMONG THE REGULAR SIZE HUMANS!"

Also, I luuuuv comments. Occasionally I feel like I'm blogging into the void.

"OW GODDAMN IT! YOU BAD FUCKING DOG!"

Then I heard a WHAP!
I turn from filling my favorite Ikea watering pitcher to see what would make a freshly showered Robot yell such a thing and actually give a WHAP.
When Lola was a naughty puppy, she got a bonk on the nose. Ask any older dog how they teach a puppy manners and they'll say that a well-timed nip-n-snarl goes a long way. I don't nip. I bonk on the nose or grab a tender Bullmastiff ear. But Robot is all Dr. Phil Positive Reinforcement with Ryder, so I look like Ike Turner. So I really wanna know what could lead to yelling AND a WHAP!
Robot was in the hall, in his underwear, glaring at Ryder.
"He fucking bit at my left nut. Just jumped up and kinda toothed it."
Two hours earlier, I was just talking about Ryder's nuts. Singing, really. It was a song about how happy Ryder was that he had nuts, and how he would have nuts forever and how he was pleased to let his nuts swing like a real man. And Lola and West are clearly defective because they have no nuts. And how he would have them forever, right? NUTS! Just like his Dad! 4Ever! Right? Right? Daddy? You're not saying 'right'. And we laughed at the song because we assumed he didn't speak English. More importantly, we assumed he didn't understand sarcasm.
So it is later in the night, and I just had to get some specifics from Robot on Nutgate. He told me exactly what Ryder did and I said, "You do realize that to a girl, that sounds like he just breathed on your nut and rested his teeth on it for a milisecond? That's not so bad, just gross right?"
Nothing.
"So he bit your nut? Jaws actually closed down?"
"Yes. No. Like he mouths your hand."
Ah. I can see how that'd be scary.
And funny.
And on the internet.

If that were true, they would have stayed.

The other night it was really hot, coming off a 104 degree day. Only our wee bedroom has air conditioning, so we stuck both dogs in there with us. Ryder promply stuck his hot balls right in the direction of the breeze and went to sleep. Lola was a little stank, so she placed herself in the way of the door so we would disturb her/persecute her as much as possible while we got ready for bed.

In the middle of the night, Ringleader Ryder started giving the polite whine. I started the gentle rocking that wakes Robot up so subtly that I think he thinks the dog woke him up. Bathroom? Okay. And he started fumbling for his keys and the alarm control. He opened the bedroom door and the dogs shot out of the icy air and into the sweltering invisible sludge that was passing for air - Lola to her own bed and Ryder to crate himself.

Robot comes back to bed and curls up next to me. "Damn girl, you must stiiiink."

Chew Toy Budget = National Deficit

Have I forgotten to tell you the CHEAPEST, BEST toy for a strong chewer?

Plastic soda and water bottles.

Dispose of the potentially trachea-clogging cap and let 'er rip. The bottle goes skittering across the floor and it makes such a pleasing thock...thock..THOCKTHOCKTHOCKTHOCK! Then the capturing and the chewing and the hugging and the slobber. You have to watch them though. Strong chewers will make quick work of it. You don't want them pulling bits of plastic off and swallowing them. Lola, if given enough alone time, could eat an entire Corvette.

The thing is, two liters don't last long, but they're figuratively free. I have purchased MILLION DOLLAR toys that Lola has destroyed in two seconds flat. Literally.

Here are the worst toys for strong chewers: ANYTHING IN THE GROCERY STORE. NOTHING IN TARGET. Nothing in the pet stores that does not read, "For the suckers who bought dogs that require the toughest, most expensive chew toys ever created."

Nylabone Galileo. Lola's fave. To chew and to drop on my toe. Twenty bucks.
Nylabone, Thing That Looks Like a Fist. Ryder thinks that's okay too. But the puppy one is getting eaten by Lola. He likes Lola's big dog one. Twenty bucks.

But worth it. See, chewing gives dogs a pleasure that humans can never quite understand but should never question. Like men and Three Stooges movies. It relieves stress, helps with teething and quite frankly keeps them busy and in one watchable place. And they're gonna gnaw something.

Better chew toy than Knoll couch.

Also, Ryder totally farted.

I'm just saying.

Lola is a little less stank with me.

This morning she got up when I called her to go, and trotted happily past me!

That, my friends, is an improvement.

And when I came to pick her up, she only looked like I was taking her back to a dog labor camp to be pinched repeatedly with Chipotle tweezers while she is forced to pull a sled with a Hummer on it.

I'm considering sticking one of those "Mom's taxi" bumper stickers on my once cool Jeep that used to be used for driving to work and making out. But, three days into the whole daycare drop off routine, I haven't yet had to kill myself. Not even today when I'm wearing skyscraper YSL wedges! I typically don't walk more than two sidewalk squares in those!

But it's worth it for that slightly less stank dog smile.

My how they grow...

Also, my how we make them suffer the exact same indignities we made them suffer when they only weighed like, three pounds and couldn't kill us in our sleep. Poor bastard.

Lola will have an Old Style please.

Lola's life BEFORE: Sleep in air-conditioned condo. Food. West and Lola sing songs in our underwear. West goes to work. Cute sitter picks Lola up, takes her to Place of Fun where she hangs with her dog homies. She is praised. She and four other bitches run the yard. Boy dogs tell her she is pretty. She is returned to air-conditioned condo. West returns. Lola is walked. Trade stories with Dukie, the neighbor. TV is watched. Food is begged for. Sleep is had.

Lola's life NOW: Sleep in hot house. Food. Ryder hangs from her jowls. Go out in yard. West goes to work. It is hot. Robot lets the dogs into the yard. Be bored unless someone comes to throw a ball. Robot comes out to play! But Ryder steals the ball and wants to be chased. Lola is bored again. Ryder gets fed like fifteen small meals during the day. Lola is hot. Lola wonders what happened to her friends and the Place of Fun that she used to visit five days a week. Perhaps she is being punished. Robot wants to play again. Lola is sad and doesn't want to. Is Ryder eating again? West is home. TV is watched. There's no kitchen in the house so no food is begged for. Sleep is had.

Dogs are emotional. Lola's life changed drastically when I moved into my fixer upper home in Garfield Park. And generally speaking, she dealt with the change well. Until now. I'm a little worried. She isn't quite herself. She doesn't like to leave the house when you get her leash and call her. She pouts. Like she don't wanna go. She's a little short with other dogs besides Ryder sometimes. Anne from See Spot Run told me that she is a little cranky when she is bathed and a little cranky with other dogs. She's gotten a teeny bit chunky without her daily hour of play. And, she just seems, well, sad.

I can't have that.

So my Lola Emotional Management Plan is this:

1. Although I moved closer to See Spot Run, I'm the only client in this direction. So they won't do pick-up and drop off like they used to. Not even if I pay extra. Not even if I offer sexual favors. So I have to drop her off in the morning (when I'm always late) and pick her up before seven thirty. I drive her there, park my car for free then grab the train in to work. Then I take the train back and grab Lola. I'm going to try hard to do this every day.

When I wait too long between playgroups, Lola has to re-establish her position in the pack all over again. And by the time she lets the Bitches know what time it is, I wait another week.

And she's lonely. Ryder doesn't count as company. Lola is five (35). Ryder is six months (three and a half). Would I like to suddenly live in a house with a three year old brother and HARDLY EVER get to see my adult friends when I used to see them every day?

Daycare was never really cheap. Now it's not cheap and not convenient. That sucks. BAD. But Lola is my girl. And until I can figure out something else, this is how it goes.

2. More baths at daycare. Lola hates water sprayed on her. A lot. But she's adaptable. I just can't let her get used to NOT having a bath. I'm also going to give it a go with the hose.

3. More me and Lola time. No Ryder. Not Robot. Which will be good for them - no Lola. No West. I can reinforce her commands. Play fetch. Take her to the park more. Go on walks. Visit her buddy Bo. Bo is nine. Lola can really talk to Bo.

The other day I dropped her off at daycare and this guy goes, "Hey there's my buddy!" But when he got to the half door his face fell because it was just Lola and not Ryder. "Boys and Ryder," I said. "LOLA IS A MOTHERFUCKING ROCK STAR you BITCH!" I thought. And if I felt it, then Lola smells it too - Ryder the favored puppy.


You will always have to help your dog be a good dog for you. Picking the right breed in the first place helps. Bullmastiffs aren't really a high maintenence dog. But I made her a very social dog by sending her to playgroup every day. I didn't see any reason for that to ever change - but it did. I took away a major part of her pack. And added two strange new ones. So I have to put in some work right now - to figure out how I'm gonna get her back to a routine that makes up both happy. And the extra time I have to spend won't be so bad. You can take Lola to a bar, buy her a beer and she'll totally be thrilled to sleep on the floor.

Riding Ryder.

Meet Dakota the boxer puppy.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

Meet Dakota. One bouncy Boxer puppy. But then again, I guess that's redundant.

Momentarily crazed.

Momentarily crazed.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

He's always much bigger than puppies his age, but they know a kid when

they see one and proceed to jump on him.

I'd like to thank the Academy...

Apparently if you search Yahoo for giant turds, I'm like, number fourteen on the list.

Garsh, I didn't expect to even be nominated for the site with the most giant turds. I don't have a speech ready...I'll just say that this was awful nice and I hope those in search of hot balls find Good Ol' Hot Balls McGuillicutty.

Reason #296 that West is a BIG NERD:

Let me begin by saying that once, when desperate for approval from a cool, hardcore, girl who was all hard-ass and making her way in a male-dominated profession, I RAN up to her, squealed and wiggled and screamed, "I have tattoos too!"

Ugh. I swore to never verbally share personal similarities with anyone again. At least not without rehearsing it first.

What did I do today? The same thing. Except out my car window to a guy with a cute Bullmastiff.

Driveby nerding.

The owner at least smiled. The Bullmastiff looked disappointed and worried about me. Girl, don't you ever learn?

Humiliation.

Humiliation.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

This is for chewing up my flip-flop, puppy dog. Okay. It isn't. Robot

told me Ryder chewed my shoe but I haven't noticed which one yet. So I

probably won't be mad.

I'm just evil.

Good Ol' Hot Balls McGuillicutty

Good Ol' Hot Balls McGuillicutty
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

File this under West's extreme sensitivity to adolescent male issues:

Giggle at the poor overheated boy, yell a silly genitalia-related

nickname, take a photo AND post it on yer blog.



I can feel all the potentially male eggs shrivel inside my ovaries.

Fifteen Minutes in Dogland.

Ryder has been giving these mighty sneezes that blast a nasty, thick green-ish mucus that would send a box of Kleenex running for its mother. One of these blasts is on the side of the bed. I sat in another on the back porch.

As I write, Lola and Ryder are engaged in one of their spontaneous WWF matches, crowded right between my perhaps broken toe and the bed. I sneeze and Ryder stops the battle long enough to give me a "You too?" face.

Then they both trample Robot on their way outside.

One minute later, Ryder is on a wild galloping spree: Outside the house. Inside the house. Outside the house. Inside the house. Each time surfing a few feet on my Rya runner.

Here comes Lola, trotting fast with a look that says that Ryder is about to get in serious trouble and she wants no part of it.

I am too slow to act.

Here comes Ryder, the son of Cups Chester, doing that thing he does with any unsupervised cup-like object. He has picked up Lola's gigantic stainless water bowl and is galloping through the house with it.

It is half full.

He flings it on the carpet, upside down, con mucho gusto.

It is funny.

Mostly because Robot will be mopping, not me.

Robot just starts grabbing leashes, and mumbling about "melting me some dogs."

These are the Dog Days of Summer people, you won't last without a sense of humor.

Darree, Darnell, Naz and one nasty tennis ball.

Darree, Darnell, Naz and one nasty tennis ball.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

I hate to tell the kids, but the reason their mom is so unafraid of

disgusting dog fluids is, well, because she's a mom. Of two boys.

She's hardcore.

Darree isn't so down with this dog park thing.

Darree isn't so down with this dog park thing.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

My best friend Naz from middle school is visiting with her kids, so out

of all the amazing sights to see in Chicago, where do we go?

I'm a rotten tour guide.

Naz was amazed at how rough and tumble boys suddenly get all Matha

Stewart at the thought of grabbing a drooly, dirty dog toy.

Lola is so not sneaky.

Lola is so not sneaky.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

She likes to abruptly end a game of fetch, claiming she is too parched

to continue. Then she flops down on the wet asphalt by the water

fountain. But if you go over there for a look, you discover that she has

a tennis ball hidden away, waiting for you to start jabbering away with

some other owner so she can swallow the tennis ball goodness whole.

Nice try bitch.

Urban Bullmastiff and Cane Corso Petting-Fest 2005

There's one part of socialization that is particularly scary for me: My dog and other people's kids.

ME: Hello ma'am, I have a puppy that to you, probably looks like a giant Pit Bull. She and her huge teeth need to get used to irritating kids. She must be exposed to this in a controlled situation, so that I can gauge her tolerance and be sure that she knows that little people are still high in the pack.

SOMEBODY'S MOTHER: (blinking) What?

ME: Great. I am also going to need your kid to hold my dog's food bowl, which is the size of a Volkswagen Bug. She LOVES food, so don't be alarmed when I say free and she charges at your toddler. She will immediately stick her head in the bowl and inhale kibbles up her nose, then make rhythmic snorting noises like an angry bull on Soul Train.

SOMEBODY'S MOTHER: Are you crazy?

ME: (chuckling) Not at all. It's socialization. And I don't have any kids of my own, so I'm gonna need you to risk your kid...What? You have two! Now who's your least favorite? He's probably the one who's most naturally irritating.

Mothers. No sense of humor.

But seriously, I worried.

When your dog is in the baby tooth stage, when his teeth are like little needles and you think that he will NEVER EVER STOP BEING BITEY. It takes a healthy dose of the three lessons that make a dog a "good" dog to get them to understand that teeth on a human are never acceptable. But still, you're also trying to fit kids in as a good early socialization experience.

But I never had to ask for volunteers because for some reason, people would let their kid come toddling right up to a giant strange dog walked by a strange girl. That always amazed me. I'd turn my head for a second only to realize that some nut with a hamburger in one hand is basically stuffing their kid's hand down Lola's throat, "Pet the DAWGIE!"

Anyhow, to make do, I used to pull Lola's ears and squeal. I took her to playgrounds so she could see little humans from afar. If a friend with a kid was over, I'd seriously explain what I was trying to do and I'd closely supervise a kid feeding Lola. Or petting her. And it paid off. Her limited kid encounters were enough to make her very reliable as an adult.

Okay, but Ryder the Alderman of Garfield Park? Whole different thing. Robot loves to let kids pet the dogs. And Ryder LOVES to meet his constituents.

We were all talking to our neighbor and her dog Sweetie when all the kids on the entire block came to pet the dogs. But Ryder was the star. They pet him. Fed him grass. Told me that he's better than Lola. (!!!!!) Made Ryder shake like he was running for re-election. I was thinking, "Yeah kids, he can shake BUT HAVE YOU SEEN MY DOG FETCH? HAVE YOU? SHE'S POETRY IN MOTION!"

But I said none of that and just smiled as a four-year-old boy kept trying to impress a four-year-old girl by coming up to the seated Lola (who was easily as tall as he was), touching her, then running for his life. He was excited. The little girl looked impressed. Lola was bored. So of course the kid gets bolder, and giddier.

Lola Roulette.

At one point, he ran over and touched me instead of Lola, but never noticed because he was looking at the four-year-old girl to be sure she was getting all this manliness.

In addition to watching the tiny urban version of the Crocodile Hunter, we had to answer eight million simultaneous questions: She's a girl. He's a boy. Five years. West. Robot. Ryder. Lola. No she never had babies. Neither of them can have babies. Seven months. NPR. Ear lobes. Dog food. Harriet Tubman. They were free. 34B. They're just mutts. Dogs are a lot of work. Sweetie. No relation. No she won't shake. No they don't bite, unless you want to kill me. Are you planning to kill me? West. Robot. Pod-casting. Ryder. Lola. They like cats. Why do you want a Pit Bull? Billie Dee Williams. What's your dog's name. She's a girl. No that lump doesn't hurt. Five AM. In the house. Training. Love. No this is not my real hair color.

But know what? The work pays off. Our dogs are so good with kids they could open their own daycare. When you teach your dog to be very good with kids, you'll feel a totally new kind of pride that you taught one of the most important lessons well.

Robot and his Official Cane Corso.

Robot and his Official Cane Corso.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

Today we got Ryder's ICCF papers. Robot celebrates by dancing about

with, ahem, West West Ryder Roman. I always suspected that two dogs

would turn the house into a kennel. Now it's official.

Son of Cups Chester

Son of Cups Chester
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

Also known as Roman, he of the tiny lipstick.

Hold Ryder up to the screen please.

I feel a problem approaching.

Robot has had the luxury of being a stay-at-home Robot. So Ryder is frequently hanging out with his beloved DUH-DEE. Doing all the things that Robots and dogs like to do - barking at crackheads, going to the park and biting themselves about their naughty bits. All this extra attention is great.

Until you put that fool in his crate. Then shady memories of MONKEY WITH SHINGLES BEING SHAVED BY CHEESE GRATER come shrieking back. Nobody can scream in his crate like Ryder. I challenge any of you with a puppy to a Canine Scream-Off.

We put Ryder in the crate. Fine. I drop a sack on Robot and drag him out to my car, driving recklessly to Iowa. Not so fine. As soon as Ryder realises he won't be going, the whining begins. And it's worse now. Now, now in this time of sensitive male issues like dropped nut-sacks and a penis that is getting uncomfortably large for my my belly rubbing tastes, now his voice is getting deeper. So now it's a like a GORILLA WITH SHINGLES AND A MEGAPHONE BEING SKINNED BY A CHEESE GRATER. AND SALTED.

There was a Beagle-Jack Russell mix that lived over my friend Duane's condo. This dog had severe issues with being alone. This dog barked, I kid you not, for six hours straight. I was ready to shoot holes in the floor. I'm not ashamed to say that I wanted that dog dead. At once.

Ryder? You reading?

It is time to work on our Separation Anxiety. Now. While we're in the house. Because if you ever have to live in an apartment, there might be a me below you.

Fuck yeah! Whatever the fuck you are!

Lola loves to bite elaborate geometric figures.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

Fuck yeah! Water!

Fuck yeah! Water!
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

Dogs. Such simple emotion.

Fuck yeah! Catch!

Fuck yeah! Catch!
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

Lola in Hejfina.

Lola and Ryder in Hejfina.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

Everytime I paused to look at something Lola would fall down like she'd been shot by a sniper crouching behind the stacks of Habitual jeans and super soft t-shirts. The cool concrete floor was too irresistible for her not to put her belly on. Cool store. Cool staff.

And I'm always so proud that my dog didn't ruin it for every other dog by doing something completely dog-rational but human-crazy. Like having a BIG OL' WHIFF off the crotch of somebody buying $5,000 worth of merchandise. Or crawling under the changing room door and dragging some girl's underwear out and parading it through the store. Or causing a you-break-it-you-bought-it situation by eating a pair of designer jeans that are now artfully distressed but not in my freaking size.

When you know what normal looks like for a dog, sometimes you gotta thank her for NOT living up to her canine potential.

Ryder in Hejifina.

Lola and Ryder in Hejfina.
Originally uploaded by west end girl.

Okay. Anthing that smells like this store is off limits at home. In other words, I WILL MURDER YOU WITH NO REMORSE IF YOU EAT MY GRAY ANT TUNIC. You have been warned puppy.