My Furry Children - Part #2 - Furballs are Forever!!

Milo and Tatertot - My Furry Children!

Whether your heart resolved to choose a dog, cat, horse, goat, cow, hamster, parrot, snake, turtle, pig or bunny rabbit as your familiar/familial loved one – they are all integral to the household – vital to your life and soul. If angels exist, they are our furry children. Imagine life without a furry friend! Imagine life without experiencing unconditional love! Gives one paws (pause)!

When we’ve lost a pet to disease, age or evil-doers – we have a mourning period to absorb the loss and manage our grief – listening to echoes of furballs past. There have always been furry sisters and brothers left behind that are also hurting and missing their siblings. It’s painful to watch them search the house for their partner and only finding their scent. I’ve watched each pet lose their loved one and wept for their/our loss. 

I left off with My Furry Children – Part 1 - Furballs are Forever! – with my sweet Bob’s passing. Milo had now suffered two losses. 

Master Jedi and his Padawan!

I’ve already mentioned in Part 1 – that Milo is/was the smartest Border Collie that we’ve had the honor of loving. He was always the “adult” in the room – taking care of the other furballs. All our dogs were perfect, but Milo was unique. He passed 5 months before his 17th birthday (12/20/04). I believe with all my heart that bringing Tate R. Tot (official name) home January of 2021 prolonged Milo’s life – because he knew we needed him to help Tater feel at home. He lasted as long as he could but left us on 7/31/21. Tater had a short-lived partnership in Milo – but Tater adored him. Milo couldn’t play much – mostly in a horizontal position – because his hips and legs were giving out. Ed and I had to assist him going up stairs or while walking. But he still had all his faculties, appetite and kept Tater in his proper station as his “Padawan” (Star Wars term for a Jedi apprentice). Milo was a master Jedi! He was already on pain meds when he

Milo was beautiful - even at 16!

got a brief introduction with Tater prior to us bringing the puppy home. We chose to get another dog during the worst of Covid. For the first time, the breeder would not let us pick out our own dog and selected Tater as the “most calm” from his litter. We talked the breeder into letting us visit once, with Milo, so we could be sure he approved of a stranger’s selection. I don’t think Milo really cared, but he did not reject Tater. I also think that Milo questioned the breeder’s choice – because Tater was in no way – calm.

Ed started working on a TV show in Richmond just prior to our bringing Tater home and would be away for about 8 months. Ed was home for holiday just long enough to bring

Meeting Tater for the first time - then I dropped him!

home our new puppy. I was left to raise and train our newest addition to the family and terrified of ruining Tate. I’d never trained our dogs – but abided by Ed’s basic rules of furry conduct while he trained. We always had an older dog (by about 4-5 years) to do most of the training anyway and it never failed. We relied on the elder to maintain decorum and for the puppy to follow suit. Tater and Milo had a 16-year age difference, and that made a huge difference in Tater’s assimilating into our household – and not necessarily in a positive way. Milo didn’t have the strength or the energy to fully integrate Tater in the dos and don’ts. Tater was a handful. It also didn’t help that Baltimore had a rough winter of snow/ice. Taking them outside to do their business was more than challenging. I had to help Milo with walking on ice and not getting hurt – while a maniac puppy was running/sliding in circles. When I could walk them in our neighborhood – I had one arm fully and tautly extended while the other arm was fully and tautly extended in the opposite direction. Tater running full tilt forward and Milo sitting/not moving behind. Tater also hated the leash – which was an ongoing issue until about a year ago (3 years of leash training). 

Look at that sweet face! (both of them)

I quickly realized that the breeder had not been forthcoming about picking the “calmest” BC in the litter. I think she did the opposite. We loved Tater so much, but he is the most hyper BC we’ve ever had and that has not changed even though he is fast approaching 4-years.

Milo endured and with a show of strength, wisdom, character and grace – loved and protected Tater (from himself). I knew that Milo didn’t want a puppy at this stage in his life. A puppy whose energy exceeded three BC’s put together. He was tolerant, but also would put Tater down in a neck hold (which all our BC’s would do to claim position of Alpha). It did not hurt the puppy, but it made him chill out and play by Milo’s rules – for a short while anyway. 

After Tsunami Tater-time - Milo enforced Nap-time!

Throughout this 7-month period of Milo and Tater – I was alone, working full time and long hours, potty training a crazy puppy, tending to an elder dog and hardly remember Rey in all this frenzy. I slept downstairs so Milo didn’t have to climb the stairs to our main bedroom every night and morning. Milo was a large BC and hard for me to fully carry with any comfort or safety. Tate was crate trained – but was obsessed with water. He drank like he’d lived in the desert for his first 10 weeks without an oasis in sight – and with his voracious lapping –

Tater loved his Monkey toy to pieces - literally!

came copious amounts of urine!! He never pooped in the house, but all rugs, floors, bedding and couch were christened and cleaned often! He also had a habit of attacking the water bowl and slinging it around the room. I kept a mop and towels handy. I’ve never seen a dog drink so much water and upon our first vet visit – asked the doctor. She recommended a hamster water bottle to control the amounts consumed and with minimal water distribution. Of course, Milo still needed water and we ended up getting a bowl with a floating wedge that had a smaller opening in the top to control splashing. That worked well for both dogs – but I still had to refill it about 30 times a day. This also meant that Tater had to tinkle 2-3 times each night. I was averaging about 3 hrs. of sleep. Between my negative work environment, Covid, minimal sleep, bad weather, the puppy/elderly dogs and no support – I fell into a deep depression. Fathomless. 

I began crying. I couldn’t stop. Everything made me cry. This went on 24/7 for over a year. Ed was very worried and neither of us had a solution – except therapy. With my work schedule and the pups – that became challenging. I managed to get a few sessions in before the therapist announced she was moving to New Zealand and had no referrals for me. I tried not to take this personally.

When Covid hit the world, everything we knew changed. I knew that I had to take some action – for all our sakes.

Rey spent Tate's first 6 months under a blanket!

I leaned on my wonderful, kind and very patient neighbor, Debbie, who was working from home. I did not have that luxury – but forever grateful to her. She would check on the pups and let them out during the day. I also got a dog walker recommendation who came by a few times a week to exercise and play with them. All this helped so much and made me a

Thank you Milo for taking the bullet!

little less morose. I even got some help from Milo. I would come home and spend all my time entertaining Tater who was in dire need of play time, watering and comfort. Often, I would not eat dinner or stand by the kitchen sink and eat whatever was easiest/quickest because cooking or sitting down was forbidden (by Tater). At one point, I snapped (not with anger but at twits end – yes twits!). I looked at Milo and said, “Sorry Milo, but I’ve got to eat! It’s your turn to take the bullet!” Milo stared at me, his head and shoulders slumped, and he sighed. He began playing with Tater while I ate. I swear to god, that Milo understood what I said and he continued to help me on occasion when I was in need of a 15 minute break. 

Even horizontal - Milo never lost the Alpha battle!

Milo lasted until Ed came home. I was cooking him anything (mac ‘n cheese) to get calories

I find comfort with them nearby.

into his poor old body. We had to make that final decision and took him to the vet end of July. Milo left a huge empty space in our universe. My heart aches as I write this. We miss our beautiful courageous boy. I talk to each of my pets when I am in the office. I find comfort with their ashes nearby. 

When I returned to the vet to pick up Milo’s ashes – I sat in my car holding them and crying – when a young woman (probably on her phone) slammed her car in the back of mine and Milo’s ashes container flew! After I made sure he was still intact – I FLEW out of my car to very emphatically tell (yell) the unaware child that I dropped my ashes and wanted all her insurance information ASAP as I started snapping pictures. I had a vet tech and client rush out to say they saw the accident. One witness was a judge and she gleefully told me that she would sign a statement for me. It sucked that in my moment of utter grief that I’d be hit while in a parked car. I guarantee that girl will never do that again!! Life is so effing bizarre.

We lost two precious furry children during Covid. A dark and devastating plague in our lives.

Of course, we still had Rey and Tatertot. Both seemed confused and distracted by the void left by Milo. When we were able to begin the conversation about a partner for Tate – we both hesitated. Life without a second dog gave us paws (pause) – but was Tater ready to take on the mantle of alpha and educator? No, he was not ready – sigh!

My sweet OCD boy!

We were still training Tate on a leash. I’ve already blogged about taking “face plants” in front of my neighbors while being tugged down the street when walking Tate. It’s funny until you wake up with gravel in your mouth. A total stranger sitting in his car was watching me being walked/towed and gave me great advice on a non-harmful mouth guard that trains dogs not to pull!! I immediately bought one and it worked like a dream! I also tried a safe spritz device to control his frenetic barking when I went to the store – which worked initially but he’s never broken that habit. Tate’s barks and yelps are of such high intensity – he can ring our doorbell when he’s in the house. I believe his yips are the scale that tipped my ear into the land of Tinnitus. Tate is not a basso – but a castrati soprano! 

Tate liked Walle their first encounter - then he didn't!

Due to Covid, Tate was not socially integrated into our neighborhood of dogs – of which we have many. He was overly protective and occasionally aggressive – very territorial of his parental unit. I did not trust him with people or other pets. He’d be fine and then lunge. Not so much biting but nipping to make sure no one got close. Tater is one of the fastest dogs we’ve had and blindingly accurate. I’ve learned that he is very particular who he befriends. Our neighbors, Richard and Danielle with their sweet girl puppy are his favorites. He is in love with Arial. He is also in love with Richard. He treats him like he's Ed - Alpha male. Total adoration. Over these past 3.5 years – Tate has taken baby paws to achieve every hurdle. 

Ed keeps approaching the topic of getting Tate a partner – but I’m the one hesitating. I finally feel that we could start looking for his new mate. However, we will both need to be around for the training with Tate’s input. I would like to rescue a dog – but not necessarily a puppy. It’s an ongoing debate – but I know that for me, the breeder is no longer an option. Stayed tuned on extending our family unit.

I have gobs to say about my two current furballs. They are always entertaining.

Not even the bathroom is sacred!

I spend way too much time alone and so I am prone to announcing my every movement – often to the pets (and my vacuum). When I say, “I’ve got to pee!” Without fail, my dog(s) and cat(s) hear, “Family confab!! Assume your positions!” They realize that I am unable to move from my throne (toilet seat) for a few minutes – which is plenty of time for me to pet them and sometimes throw a ball. “Waste” not, want not! If I need alone time in the bathroom – I create a diversion, run in a zig zag pattern to disorient them, a quick drop and roll and slam the door without catching any little paws in the process. This really pisses off my cat, Rey. 

My cat Rey is like a fart – silent but deadly!!

Little Miss Busybody!

Rey slinks through the house or lies on various flat surfaces (couch, bed, hassock, shelf, etc.) with a haughty attitude of authority. Do her bidding and all will be copacetic. Any sudden movement or change in routine – may piss her off. I call Rey, “Her Royal Heinie!” Her Royal Pain in the Ass is more like it – but Heinie sounds a lot like Highness, and she doesn’t know the difference!!

Any open box will do - even a Ukulele box. It fit her figure perfectly!

Turn the tap on B*tch! I'm thirsty!

Rey is very demanding as far as cats go. She is very vocal. From the moment I descend from our bedroom – groggy, crusty-eyed and tired – she begins her meowing decrees. Directing my every movement as if I’d been replaced overnight by another humanoid and unaware of all her monarchial needs. Meows ensue while I refresh her water bowls. Meowing as I dole out her teaspoon of soft food. Meowing while she eats the soft food. Meowing as I clean her royal litterbox of its imperial s*it. Meowing as I clean up her majesty’s litter spillage from the bench and floor. Meowing as she beckons me to lift her royal chubbiness to the other bench to have her dessert (dry cat food). Meowing, thinking I’ve forgotten all about her and jumps into the large utility sink for her morning footbath and beverage – tap water. (she was born in a tub and has no fear of water) I then

Rey's morning ablutions and refreshment!

prep Tate’s food until her thirst is slacked, and the meowing begins anew! I must pick up majestic ass and carry HRH upstairs to be deposited on the office couch – impatiently waiting for me to open the blinds for her to oversee her realm and wave at her royal subjects (squirrels). This routine is without fail. It never varies and I pretty much do it in my sleep now. I wake up once I’ve fulfilled my duties as her royal maidservant and had my morning vat of coffee. Of course, my attendance is needed again before I continue my daily duties. She appears in the kitchen corner beside the fridge. As I’m swigging coffee – I feel an itch between my shoulder blades and slowly turn to see her glaring at me. With her cat-mind-meld I get her 2 nibblet treats. Her Grace manages the staff of one (me) with cat-like precision and sharp-eyed/clawed punishment if her servant falters. This just covers 5:30am to 6:30am. 

Scares me every time!

She doesn’t meow for her morning treats – but in the afternoon – she’s scream-owing! For the remainder of the waking hours - when I’m in the kitchen cooking or cleaning – I'll hear meowing in the distance. I'll continue with my chores when suddenly Rey magically appears in the corner next to the fridge – her eyes silently telling me to give her a f**king treat – while Tate stares at Rey hoping he can steal one of those treats without harm inflicted upon his nose. Rey is the Alpha and Tate keeps a safe distance. He knows that if Rey gets a treat – then he also gets lucky. I believe they are conspiring behind my back and I’m too weak to say NO. Honestly, Rey just scares us.

She’s not allowed upstairs at night – bedtime – like my previous cats. I value my life too much. We always let our dogs upstairs at night – but they sleep on the floor next to the bed. We attempted to let Rey sleep with us – but I never slept. Ed is her Lord and Master, and she just oozes love and seduction when he’s around. However, she loves him so much that she

Rey is luring me into a false sense of security before she attacks!

doesn’t want to disrupt his much-needed rest – so she always sleeps next to my head. We have a queen size bed and I’m already limited in bedspace with Ed. Add Rey into the mix and I have about 1/16 of this queen. Wedged between the two – if I roll over in either direction – I have an angry, spiteful cat to deal with. She isn’t happy if I turn my back on her and she isn’t happy if I’m breathing on her. It pisses her off royally to be disturbed once she’s settled into her position – sharp teeth and claws next to my face. I have sleep apnea, so I can’t sleep on my back. I also don’t sleep well – so I roll back and forth all night. I laid in terror when Rey was next to me. I finally put my foot down while bandaging my scratches and declared, “No cat is allowed upstairs while we sleep!” If she’s upstairs when we are getting ready for bed – that becomes a whole game of – “Let me get a couple scratches in just for the hell of it before Colleen-in-waiting kicks me out.” 

Doors seem to be a fascination to a lot of cats and Rey considers them a challenge. Rey has been locked in many a closet over her 8 years – because she’s a stealth bomb and I never see her enter as I’m closing that closet door. I eventually feel an uncomfortable silence in the house and realize I haven’t been meowed at for about an hour and go in search of my liege! Ironically, she never meows to alert anyone that she’s in a dark closet – but waits until I finally open the door and then bellows her meowing outrage! Oddly enough, she can pretty much Indiana Jones any closed door. Treasures to be found and toyed with. She can’t pass up cracking the secrets behind a closed door – and keeps me on my tippy-toes. When we have guests staying over – they must wedge the guest bedroom door at night – from the inside. Rey sharpens her claws and meows, “Challenge accepted!”

Where's my f**king brush!

I am not only her handmaid – but her groomer as well. I brushed her as a kitten and that has maintained as one of her greatest pleasures. Her brush is in a tin on our pie-shelf in the kitchen. If I so much as breath on that tin – she comes galloping and meowing in a furry frenzy – in anticipation of her spa day. The meows continue until I’ve settled in our spot on the couch (where Ed lays) and she is on her hind legs reaching for the magical brush or meowing me to hurry the f**k up and get brushing human parental unit (translation – B*tch)!! It’s a specific routine of what body part I brush and when. Her favorite spots are her cheeks (jowls) and the top of her head. She cannot get enough of the pheromones that are released when I do her jowls. It drives her insane!! I am her best friend for those 15 minutes. She will let me brush any part of her body just to get her fix. The only time that I have power over that cat, and I wallow in it. I only do it once a week – just to keep her wanting more (and not having me beheaded). 

When I read her my book - her critique was a harsh ME-OW!

It's taken a few years for Ed and I to figure out the safest way (it takes 2) to clip Rey’s nails/claws. As a kitten, it was easy-peasy. Not so as an adult. Rey has a full flotilla of uber sharp teeth in that tiny skull. We’ve all had the displeasure of finding out how sharp (except her lover Ed). So, now it’s like we are planning a catnapping. I get out a large towel in one hand and then rattle the “tin” and pull her brush out with the other. As she charges into the room Ed and I go over to her spot, waving her brush (lure) and once she’s on the couch between us – I throw the towel over her head. She doesn’t seem to notice that we are both wearing balaclavas! I gently but firmly hold my captive down while Ed clips her nails as fast as he can before she escapes her towel-tether. Her meows turn to growls but once the hostage is released, I shove the brush into her murderous face, and she melts into meows again – as if the offense never occurred. It’s a seismic line we walk when clipping her nails – but this has been the only way to do so without a trip to the ER or a $300 manicure at the vet.

She's laughing at me saying, "He's mine. All mine!"

Ed is Rey’s favorite and will let him cuddle, rub, maul, scratch her anywhere and never get irritated. If she could blush and giggle – she would! The strange thing is that I am the one she comes to for all her basic needs and comforts – but with conditions. I feed her, I clean her litter, I brush her, I let her out of closets, I arrange her sleeping accommodations, I scratch her in her favorite spots, I respond to all her meows, and I even play hide and seek with her. We carry on conversations all day long and this b*tch still manages to swipe at me on occasion to keep me on alert! Whenever I go to the bathroom, I am expected to leave the door open or else Rey will angrily use her claws to open it. We have a routine in the bathroom with petting while I’m on the toilet and then she sits on the tub

If Rey turns her back on you - it means she's invisible!

bench while I do my ablutions. One of her favorite games is hide and seek. She will hide behind the towels hanging on the towel rack – but half her generous sized body is still visible. I always cry, “Where’s Rey? Where is she? Rey..Rey..where are you?” As I’m doing my part, I wiggle the towels and pretend to search for her. Eventually, she’ll scare the crap out of me and lunge with a smug, “Me-ow!” That translates to a human, “Boo!” I know she’s going to lunge but it startles me every time. Another game of hers is the “Invisibility Game.” She’ll sit on the tub bench and turn her back to me. I believe she thinks she is invisible because she can’t see me. I have learned to come up behind her and gently hug her for about 5 seconds and she purrs, meows her approval. She then leaves to plop down on the dining room rug for her carefully crafted head rub and massage. I keep an eye out for any show of displeasure at my ministrations and then bow/back out of the room quietly so as not to rile her royal furry heinie.  

Her favorite game - hide and seek. Once again - she thinks she's invisible!

The face I see when she's on my chest! Would you feel safe!!

When we watch TV at night – it’s inevitable that Rey will seek out her Royal Cushion – me. She will approach my end of the couch and calculate her options, “Can I wedge between my servant and her pillow, or should I climb atop her and settle myself onto her bosom?” If she chooses the Wedge option - then it’s - jump up, put my royal ass in the human’s face and wiggle my abundant body into the imaginary targeted space. Once I’ve made room and shoved her ass down - which takes time because it keeps popping up to prove a point – she expects me to pet her coronated head for 2 hours. I’ve convinced myself that her “ass in my face” is a position of endearment and her way of telling me, “I love you!” Her other option is

After 2 hours of me rubbing her head!

to jump up when I’m distracted and establish her furry girth from my lap up to my chest, so her face (sharp teeth) is 2 inches from my own. I’ve grown used to it – but there is always a little tremble of fear that she has me in a vulnerable position. A position of trust that I’m forced into by a “cat!” Rey has turned out to be our cuddliest cat but comes with a lot of cat-veats!

The beast my mother poked!

My mom was visiting. While I was at work – while on the couch - she decided that reaching behind her head to pet a snoozing Rey was a great idea. She found out that Rey is not her cat (Lucky)! I had to rush her to Patient First to get antibiotics for her infected bite. Rey got her good and scarred – but my mom recovered and will never do that again!

Don't be deceived by her innocent expression!

I used to have an antique china cabinet in my dining room that had been in the family for many years. Ed insisted on putting a large antique speaker next to the cabinet and Rey would often perch on it and wave at us (swipe at us) as we entered the kitchen. I’d had one of my (many) bad days at work and came home late. Ed had made dinner, and I was starving. As I was exiting the kitchen – a loud noise startled Rey – and she vaulted off the speaker which rocked it back into my curved glass-sided china cabinet.

She broke that glass panel 2 times!

Broken glass flew at me, into my food and throughout the room. I burst out crying for many reasons. I did not have dinner but cleaned up the crime scene and furious at the stupid speaker. It took a while for Ed to find a person who could recreate this curved glass but someone in the mid-west specialized in antique glass, and we got the cabinet repaired. I insisted the speaker be moved – but Ed claimed this would never happen again – until it did. Exactly like the first time. I didn’t cry the second time – but my silence was worse. The china cabinet will be put into our next yard sale sans one pane of curved glass, the speaker has been moved to a place where it can do no harm and Ed built me a new hanging cabinet with normal glass panes and matching credenza in record time. Rey still lives – but I am fully aware of her skills of mass destruction and always on alert. 

My new China cabinet!!! Ed made it - he had no choice!!

In the rare event, I go out of town – my neighbor Debbie – has always come through for me – forever a good friend. I had to go with Ed to Richmond for a kidney stone operation and Debbie fed and kept an eye on Tater and Rey. Both my pets have known Debbie since their adoption, and they act like it’s the first time meeting her - every time. I surmise that Debbie

I hear the "Psycho" music every time!

means I’m going away. My children are both OCD in their routine. I don’t ever expect Debbie to adhere by my psychotic OCD rules – just refreshing water and food bowls, letting Tate out to do his business and making sure Rey is alive. Often, Debbie tells me she never sees Rey while I’m gone – but her treats and food were consumed so she assumed Rey was alive and breathing. One babysitting visit, thinking Rey was hiding as usual, she turned and saw Rey sitting in the utility tub glaring at her. She took this picture! We both laughed so hard because it’s creepy and hilarious at the same time. I told Debbie that Rey was pissed because she gets to drink out of the faucet every morning and Debbie wasn’t cognizant of this rule. Debbie has also learned to have a ball in her hand upon letting Tate out for her first time entry. Balls are his heroine and distract him from any aggressive action. Exhausting!

The other day while typing my Blog - invisible forces startled Rey who was around the corner in the guest room. I turned and saw her body fly by (about 3 feet off the ground) and land in a jumble of limbs – then zoom down the hall to the office. Just as I stood to go check on her – she came back and started licking various parts of her body with feline fervor – pretending she didn’t just get scared by NOTHING and acting like she meant to do it prior to grooming herself. Every awkward Rey moment is reason for her to lick her entire body as if that was her plan all along. 

Rey reminds me of the Feng Shui Maneki-neko porcelain waving cats that you see in Asian restaurants – spreading good fortune while sweetly waving at customers. If I had her likeness turned into one of these Chubby Lucky Cat statues – she’d be gleefully waving - “You’re Number 1” - claw/finger!

DEATH REY!!

It's very rare to capture this on camera!

Tate and Rey tolerate each other. There are times – when I come around a corner – they’ll be nose-kissing. Upon seeing me, they break contact. Tate lunges while Rey bat, bat, bats his face (no claws) like a professional boxer. Rey gives Tate her disgusted meow and resumes her “Death Rey’s” (rays) to mitigate their secret attraction. They tear off in opposite directions. If Tater had his way, they’d play all day and if Rey had hers – Tate would get apposable thumbs and brush her all day.

As I’ve mentioned, Tater is our most extreme OCD Border Collie. Maintaining his schedule is key. Any sudden fluctuations – a burst of loud laughter, opening the front/back/garage/any door, putting a coat on, grabbing my purse, putting a hat on, walking near the treat container, going upstairs, going downstairs, going to the bathroom, moving, etc. – creates a frenzied response of whining, yipping loudly and running his gauntlet – down the basement stairs, licking the corner of W/D base, running back upstairs and zooming to the office while licking the corner, licking the office floor and repeat – over and over again. He licks in the exact same spots and runs the exact same pattern. He licks everything and everyone. If I pet him – his head circles until he can cop a hand lick. It’s one of his obsessive fetishes. I used to think he was salt deficient or showing me affection – but now I suspect I’m just another dog treat. 

Tater as a tween and always "happy to see me!"

Tate was great at fetching - until he got tired and made us go find the stupid ball!

Another compulsion that makes him quiver with anticipation is throwing a ball. He could care less about frisbees – but he adores bouncy balls! Especially squeaky balls. When he was a puppy, I bought him Curious George Monkey soft squeaky toy. Tate loved that Monkey. He slept with that Monkey. He tore that Monkey apart, one limb at a time. I would sew the leg on, and he would rip the other one off. And so on and so on. I bought about 4 of them until I had cleaned out Pet Smart. I bought him Kong’s – that claim they are indestructible – but in reality - aren’t. I’ve scoured the Google for various durable toys – but Tate has proven to each manufacturer that, “Where there’s a will, a Border Collie, a good set of fangs, there’s a way!” Tate has many toys and balls that have stood the test of Tate and are great for tossing. We will play his favorite game of throw/retrieve until I collapse. Another BC trait – is no internal “off” button. I now buy him toys from the $3 bin. These cheap ball/toys have lasted the longest. 

When he wants me to play with him - daily ritual - Green candy cane #1!

His favorite outdoor toy - pumpkin!!

While I water the garden beds – I am throwing his current outdoor favorite – a pumpkin squeaky toy that cost $2. If I say, “Go get pumpkin!” He searches until he finds that cheap toy. At night, when I’m watching TV – I am tossing his inside ball (less bouncy) for hours. My right arm is ripped!! I have defined veins popping out on that arm. When Ed is home, we have indoor ball rules. While watching TV or relaxing – if Ed leaves the living room – Tate frantically grabs the ball, throws it into my lap and we play toss. When Ed returns – he drops the ball and lays down – but not before he looks at me to make sure the rule hasn’t magically changed. 

That river was a lot higher before Tate went swimming!

Tate’s preoccupation with water has lessened, except when I’ve filled his puppy pool, or we go hiking on a river trail. He is our first BC who loves to swim. Of course, I believe any large body of water makes him whimper with delight – endless water supply. He basically swim/gulps until he vomits – and repeat. He is in OCD heaven!

My beautiful boy!

When Tater was a puppy and Ed was away working – I still had to take him in for his initial shots. It was 3 trips in my new Prius Prime. I had purchased a collapsable pet tube with vents, padding and plenty of room. I’m grateful that I also put down a blanket underneath the tube and additional pee pads and towels inside the tube. The first trip – he made it all the way to the vet and once parked – proceeded to spew vomit - copious amounts inside

This was pre-vomit!

the tube and all over himself. As a puppy – he was easier for them to handle, and they were used to such “accidents.” They cleaned him up a little, gave him the shot, I peeled layers away and made it home without additional incident. He got a bath. The second series of shots were due, and I repeated the prep process but forgot one important necessity – paper towels and garbage bags. This trip was diarrhea – everywhere. The vet tech helped me out and brought out supplies – while taking Tater inside as I cleaned the worst of it. He got a bath. The third time was the worst. An evening appointment – I had everything but the shop vac in my car in preparation for an odorous ride home. He made it there and back home – until I drove into the driveway – when he proceeded to explode from both ends in a spectacular display of sh*t and bile fireworks. It looked like a crime scene. As I cried and got him inside for yet another bath – I knew we had a dog that hated driving in cars. That clean up took me hours to complete. He also hated riding in the back of the truck. He never pooped or vomited – but drooled. He’d be covered, stings of drool and puddles everywhere. After 3 years – he’s gotten better. Better at waiting until he’s let out of the vehicle before he blows!

When he wants me to play with him - daily ritual - Red candy cane #2!

As Tatertot grew from tiny, adorable puppy to puberty – his body evolved into a new breed of Border Collie that we’d never witnessed. His legs remained thin, rigidly straight and long.

Tatertot is so Handsome!!!

His ears grew to twice the size of his head and didn’t droop like our other BC’s but at full attention 24/7. They are HUGE! Tate’s tail got long like normal but grew into a huge curl – like a Husky. His paws never grew bigger like most dogs but always look like he’s “on pointe!” Please don’t think I find Tater unattractive – just the opposite. Tatertot is gorgeous – but like most gangly tween boys – he had to grow into his spastic body. Ed and I have never seen a BC that looks like Tate – but he is a handsome specimen. He just got teased a lot in his formative years!

An important lesson I learned from Tater – never go downstairs without letting him go first. BC’s are herding dogs and if you f**k up their rules of engagement – then you can’t be surprised when you take a header or rumper down the staircase. It took a couple spills and bruises for me to finally get it and come to a full stop before that top step – let him leap by me – and then proceed with caution. I trained him to stop barreling into me – but if I have company – this rule is always shared as they enter the house: DO NOT go downstairs without stopping and grabbing the railing because a tsunami is right on your heels!

Apparently, for Tate, rules don’t apply to newcomers. 

When he wants me to play with him - daily ritual - Pink donut #3!

Covid and the rules of non-engagement – took a toll on socializing Tate as a puppy. Covid took away a lot of things. He only knew me, Ed (on rare occasion for 8 months), Debbie and Stacy (dog walker). We have a neighborhood filled with pet lovers and yet, we had to be

Cousin Monkey (not the toy) came to visit and Tate almost broke him!!

careful not exposing our dogs or ourselves to the plague that blew up in our faces and around the world. So poor Tate only knew distancing as the norm and that everyone was living in fear of exposure. I was a f**king mess, terrified, depressed and completely isolated – so it’s no wonder that Tate became aggressive towards anyone outside his miniscule universe. He was extremely protective of me and my fragile mien. His attitude didn’t change when restrictions eased. I had to be very careful when walking him – because I always ran into a neighbor/pet. He has gotten better as he’s aged and friendlier to dogs and people. I had a routine when I had family visiting. I learned that he had to be outside with me upon greeting them. We then all entered the house together and he seemed to think this was okay and allowed them entry. If someone comes to the door – it’s a territorial reaction. He’s picky and I can never assume that he is cured of his mistrust. Like humans – you don’t take a shine to everyone. Our next pup will be brought up in a much more social environment and hopefully Tate will relax as a result. I think Tate needs a partner and some chill pills.

When he wants me to play with him - daily ritual - Pink ball #4!

Because of my OCD cleaning – I’ve trained Tate to respect my orderly nature. He learned as a puppy, that entering the house meant clean paws. He can’t remove them – so I got him used to my cleaning each paw prior to coming into the house. He’s so used to it now – he assumes the position and will lift his paw for me to wipe down. He’s agitated (because he’s OCD) but follows the rules like an OCD comrade should. Another difference between Tate and our other BC’s – he has no issues with my vacuum (Mr. S.H. Ark). Whenever Ed is away working on a film – I am free to vacuum to my heart’s content. So, Tate thinks the vacuum is part of his daily routine and had no desire to attack and murder it - like all my other dogs – who considered the vacuum and anything with wheels their sworn enemies. 

Tater is unbelievably fast and agile! He loves hiking and running! Thank god Ed can whistle!

Tate’s first 2.5 years were Covid restricted – but I think he would have made a champion agility competitor. He is the fastest BC to date. When I take him out front before bedtime – he races out and in a single bound (from front door to front yard) lands in the same spot every time – about 15 ft. He is so fast, that I think he is out by our front fence peeing – but then turn around and he’s behind me on the porch. He is good about staying in our yard – but in the blink of an eye – I’ve lost track. As a puppy, he would run up and down our driveway – around and underneath our neighbor’s truck – and repeat until I forced him to stop to go inside. He wore a path in the grass along the driveway. I let him do this while I talked to Debbie, until one day as he was zooming around Chuck’s truck to run underneath it – I hear a bang and yelp! He’d outgrown the truck and the truck won! He continued the circuit but avoided the truck. He still does it out of habit – but not quite as enthusiastically. Bunny rabbits and squirrels are his current obsession. 

When he wants to play with me - daily ritual - accidentally pooped his Pink Ball #5!

He can leap tall buildings in a single bound but can’t climb up on a couch! I’ve watched this dog leap around the backyard – knowledgeable of where every tree, pathway, rock, fence, garden bed, etc. are located and fly over objects as if he has wings. He would have been

Tate's couch etiquette was "sprawl."

fantastic at agility – but he needs an adult that can keep up with him. When we first got Tater – we allowed him up on the couch because Milo and Bob were allowed. As a puppy, we let him up to cuddle on the couch. This stopped because of his water addiction and its consequences. We would occasionally let him up when he grew bigger – but discovered an abnormality in Tater. He wouldn’t jump up on the couch – but would do the following: paws up first - wiggling ensued with the backside out of control - leaning into me or Ed as if expecting us to pick him up (all 42 lbs.) - then realizing we won’t, one hind leg attempts to navigate the 1.5 ft. distance from floor to couch cushion - failing he would try again – and again – then try the other leg – then he becomes a slithering mass of black and white fur – gainly crawling up the couch and onto my body  – continuing the ascent of my torso until he is fully ensconced in my lap – victorious and hoping I won’t notice he’s sitting on me. I’m laughing too hard to disappoint him. We are fascinated at this awkward, clumsy display of an otherwise athletic dog. When I am feeling down, Tate will go through all these graceless motions to get into my lap to comfort and cheer me up. I laugh through the tears and give him a big hug. Pets are intuitive and so sensitive to your emotions and moods. They are the best therapy!

BC’s have an extensive vocabulary and can even read lips and spell. If I spell, whisper or say the word “Walk” it causes great jubilation. Tate runs over to the closet door - stares at me, door, me, door - until I open it. Once I grab the leash that confirms that his dreams have come true, and he runs to the front door – bouncing and doing his happy whine. I sometimes will get inventive with my vocabulary to mess with him, “I shall endeavor to secure the leather harness to my canine and proceed henceforth to the entrance so we may depart and meander down the cement pathway.” He somehow knows olde English?? He also knows his toy names – pumpkin - being his favorite. Lie down, stay, sit, treat, I’m eating, pardon me, please, thank you, good boy, its nighty nighttime, stop licking, you are so handsome and I love you. Border Collies are smart but stubborn – and OCD!

Tater's first cow. He didn't know whether to herd it or f**k it!

Dogs have super-olfactory diagnostic noses – 100,000 times more potent than a human. They are basically Phlebotomists technicians, Gastroenterologists and Urologists. Dogs do colonoscopies every time they sniff a dog’s ass or poop and diagnose any medical issues. They do urinalysis when they sniff the Pee-Tree (petri) or grass. Our medically inclined canines can prognosticate and diagnose disease, emotions like fear, anxiety, happiness. They can tell what each dog had for dinner, their mood, health, medications, age and gender. They can also diagnose human illnesses – which has been proven with cancer and other life-threatening diseases. They’ve recently attempted to see if a dog could identify Covid in patients and they did! Dogs are incredible specimens and should be treated as such.

Tater does his daily walks in our neighborhood – checking out each pet on our street – making sure that all is balanced in our little bubble. His hyper-sensitive nose and personality keeps us safe from all the brutish bunnies in our yard. Because we all know that bunnies are terrifying!!

Belfast Maine - Tate was in water heaven!!

Just some little pet quips to give you a giggle:

My house is always clean. Then, Ed gets up, I let the dog in, and the cat wakes from her nap. The end.

Tate – have a little whine with that slice of cheese!!

When I’ve been to someone’s home that has pets and come home reeking of strange dog or cat scent – I might as well have a banner posted on the front door saying, “Welcome Home Slut! Cheater!”

Sometimes I think Tate would love me more if I had a squeaker in my tummy!

I love my husband and furry children more than coffee – but not until I’ve had my coffee! 

Whatever warm or cold-blooded pet you chose and that loves you unconditionally, is pure of heart and accepts all your crazy. We are their protectors and nurturers. Do not abuse this privilege. We are so fortunate to have them as part of our family. Thank them every day. They balance our lives and ground us. They keep the monsters at bay. 

If you’ve read all of this wordy blog – thank you! I love my Furry Children and truly believe Furballs are forever in my heart – whether they have passed or still with us. Give your furballs a loving cuddle and thank them daily! Saying, “I love you” makes their tails wag!

Below are some Maryland rescue organizations for those looking for a sweet puppy/kitty who needs a loving home:

https://mabcr.org

https://www.mdspca.org

https://www.lastchanceanimalrescue.org

https://www.barcs.org/adopt-dogs/

https://animalalliesrescue.org

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