HORACE - THE GARDENER

Horace has been with me two weeks. The bark collar has worked its magic. He sits down to receive food and is in the process of leash training. Horace is a big, bouncing, lovable kid.

However, for me to survive Horace's puppy hood, I must teach him a few manners such as:
1. It isn't polite to pounce on or knock over your source of home and sustenance.
2. Breaking any of your owner's bones is considered very poor form.
3. Sniffing your owner's privates is exceptionally rude.
4. And, of course, you don't belch or fart in polite company.

Today, I worked in the backyard to put the garden to bed for the winter. The two little dogs, Bodhi and Sophia, stayed inside. Since they are yappers, their absence gave Horace and me a little peace.

As I clipped, weeded and mulched, I discovered Horace is a very thoughtful gardening companion. As did one of my previous pit bulls, Greta, Horace protectively lingers nearby and surveys his domain. He occasionally oversees my work, which can be a strain on his manners. However, I see in him a budding gentleman, scholar and gardener.

HORACE

I decided the big boy was not to be named "Ulysses," a hero of Greek Mythology, even though I am sure his character qualified him for such a title. The name, "Horse," came to mind, but it was not sufficiently dignified. Then, his name plummeted from the sky, "Horace." Horace, (c. 65-8 B.C.), was a scholar and author. The big boy has intelligent eyes. I am sure he will grow into his name.

Yesterday, one of my neighbors approached me with a fierce look on her face. Apparently, Horace's bark was destroying her serenity. I responded that I would give the situation some thought and proceeded to my art class.

I shared my dilemma with my artistic compatriots, who are also animal lovers. Patti, our teacher, saved the day. Patti has five dogs. She introduced me to her "bark collar." The device has been worn by each of her dogs and has minimized their barking. The device is placed over the dog's vocal cords. Each times he barks, it shocks him.
After class, I headed straight to the pet store. Horace is now the proud owner of a $50 collar and leash and a $60 bark collar.
I hated to subject him to the latter. He had already been traumatized by his new surroundings. However, if he was to stay with me, he and I had no choice.

Well, the collar works. I am sure Horace has been stressed today, but the neighbors are happier. I have to admit that I am also enjoying the silence.

Horace, Sophia and Bodhi have eaten their evening meal, and it is dog bone time. With food in hand, perhaps Horace will forgive me for his discomfort.

THE HOOD

I live in a modest home in the older part of the city near an area that one might call "the hood." I am told the hood has chop shops, drug dealers and prostitutes. Individuals of those occupations often have dogs chained to and/or roaming their places of business. Judging by the length and caliber of his chain, I suspect my new and biggest dog escaped from such a domicile.

He seems blissfully happy to have found a home with food, shelter, kindness and no chains. I suspect he is just a big puppy. He certainly acts like one. The veterinarian will soon enlighten me on that topic.

I have also heard that pit bulls, often crossed with Great Danes, are frequently groomed to fight, sometimes to the death.

When finding their way to the pound, dogs of this breed may not be adopted and are exterminated. "Putting them down or asleep" is much too polite of a phrase for such activities.

I'm glad the big guy found his way to me. Perhaps, his name will soon follow. Perhaps his name is Ulysses? We'll see.

FURRY FRIENDS

For the last four days, I have been submerged in the nonverbal world of color, form and movement, and the paint has been flying around me.

Add to this mix, my furry friend population has expanded. During my morning walk in April of 2007, a yellow, Manx cat adopted me. With behaviors of a mighty female warrior, she obviously hailed from that ancient Greek lineage of Amazons and bears the name of that sisterhood.

In August of 2009, I heard barking emanating from behind my trash barrel. Upon investigation, I discovered a hungry, thirsty and tattered Pekingese. He immediately
followed me onto the porch and into the house. There was no doubt he planned on staying. His big, brown eyes could melt the most hardened of hearts. Mine was immediately mush. The Pekingese are of Asian origins. I knew his name was to begin with the letter "B." I questioned if his name was Buddha, but it didn't fit. Finally, a friend mentioned Bodhi, like Buddha under the bodhi tree. Bodhi has a contemplative spirit.

In April of 2010, I decided Bodhi needed a playmate. I scoured the paper for a listing of Pekingese puppies and found a litter in Weatherford, Oklahoma. Bodhi and I were on our way. I thought Bodhi might decide which puppy was to be his new running mate. When we arrived at the breeder's home, we found six puppies occupying a dry, child's swimming pool in the middle of the family room. Bodhi immediately deserted his duty in pursuit of the family cat. Beforehand, I decided our new family member was to be a female. The owners placed three black females on the floor near me. One was disinterested and wandered away. One was timid and fearful. The third female promptly walked over and climbed into my purse. Her name became Sophia, after the Goddess of Wisdom. She has yet to live up to her moniker. However, she is the smallest and dominant alpha of the three animals.

In the past two weeks, a beautiful, black cat has frequented my porch and the feline food bowl. She is shy and has lovely green eyes and a sweet disposition. For now, I call her Sweetie. Time will tell if she will continue to inhabit my life.

Then, I came home last Friday, to find a dog, dragging a 10-foot chain, on my front porch. Good-hearted neighbors were concerned for his safety and attempting to soothe him. He was obviously a mixture of pit bull and possibly Great Dane. I decided to take the situation in hand. I tied his chain to my porch railing and went into the house for a quilt for bedding and bowls of water and dog food. Presented with sustenance, he immediately settled down. The neighbors were relieved that he was safe and were free to return home. I was tired and figured the solution the situation would come to me in a day or two.

I checked on big fellow throughout the night. The next day he gained access to the back yard, with his chain secured to the metal fence post. He showed not signs of aggression toward Bodhi or Sophia, and he and Bodhi became fast friends. He is a big, happy, lovable galoot, who whines when he wants attention. The third day, all three dogs were free to roam the fenced yard. The little dogs have a dog door into the back porch. The big guy can only maneuver his snout and eyeballs through the door. It was cold and wet last night. I cleaned the tool shed and secured it for his bed. He was appreciative.

He has been here for five days, and I don't want to part with him. He is a brindle and reminds me of my dog, Greta, who was a pit bull. While living on the farm, Greta died from a snake bite. I have long mourned her. She was such a special spirit. I always thought she might return to me. Maybe she has. I have yet to receive his name. It will come.

This evening, all the animals are fed and bedded down for the night. I think I'll do the same.