Saturday, December 28, 2013

Snow


For days, the weather forecast had been for a very stormy weekend, starting from Thursday and on through Saturday, with lots of rain, wind, and a good possibility of snow in the areas here where there is usually some snow every winter.  Jerusalem does usually have one snow day a year, with a few centimeters of snow, and then half of the country drives up to Jerusalem to see it, creating, of course, huge traffic jams. By the time most of the winter-starved visitors get to town, the snow has mostly melted and what is left is slushy and dirty.

Many friends asked me if I was ready for the snowstorm.  No chance of snow here, I told them, we are below the snow line.  The snow usually ends about 4 kilometers from us, which is at a higher elevation. Where we are, the temperature is usually just a few degrees too high for snow and certainly not cold enough for the snow to stick.  The last time we had a big snow here was twenty years ago.  So I was not worried, we wouldn’t be having snow.

Friday morning I woke up to a dark freezing house, no electricity, and outside the window, everything covered in snow.  True, the snow wasn’t very deep, only a few centimeters, but it was enough to cover everything in white, weigh down the trees and bushes, and knock out the electric lines.  Although we had no way of hearing the news at the time (having become a total resident of the modern world, I don’t even have a battery operated radio at home), the storm had been quite severe, with heavy snow further up the road and into Jerusalem. The weight of the snow had brought down electric lines, and trees that fell on the electric lines, and the repairmen from the electric company were unable to get to some of the locations to fix the lines, due to piled up snow.  And the storm was still going on, rain all over the country, and snow still falling in the north and in Jerusalem area.

The snow we had was not nice fluffy fun snow, it was heavy, wet, slushy snow – it was cold enough to freeze, but not cold enough for it to last.  By early afternoon it was mostly melted away.  The dogs were not impressed by this, they found it annoying that their feet were cold, and that everything was so wet.  This wet snow was much more penetrating than rain, and all the dogs looked thoroughly miserable.

It's an advantage to be a smooth when it is wet out...

Cold feet!
The rain kept falling, and there was still no electricity.  You would think that, since I had spent 17 years living without electricity, this would not be a great hardship – but I have become thoroughly spoiled and accustomed to modern amenities.  I don’t have the equipment to cope with a lack of electricity now, so was left sitting with a few candles around the room, reading by flashlight, with five sweaters and a blanket to keep warm.  Habibi and the podengos joined me on the sofa, any suggestions that they might want to go out for a while met with scornful looks.

We were lucky – the electricity in our area was restored by the end of the day.  In other parts of the Jerusalem area, there was no electricity for as much as four days.  The snow had stopped traffic (just to put things in proportion – there was altogether about 40 centimeters of snow in Jerusalem). People were unable to get through the streets and abandoned their cars at the side of the road, which made it totally impossible for anyone to get through.  For the electric company workers to get to the places that needed repairing, first the city had to tow away all the cars that were blocking the way.  The highway to Jerusalem (the main highway of Israel) was completely closed for three days, and people were stuck either unable to leave their homes or unable to get home.

It was quite nice, though, to be able to look out and see a totally empty highway, where usually there were masses of cars and daily traffic jams, and to enjoy the quiet. 


Fortunately for us, we got our electricity back after only one day without, and the telephone and internet were back after two days.  Parts of the area were without all of these essentials for as much as four days or more – and our modern society is so dependent on this, that there are few people who have emergency equipment – heaters working on kerosene, camping lights, or anything of that sort.  And it was very cold (by Israeli standards!), and very wet – not at all pleasant.

There has been a lot of criticism of the utility companies for not repairing things fast enough, of the government for not being prepared…I must admit, that being without was very frustrating, but the companies worked very hard to try and get things under control.  And somehow, no matter how prepared we may think we are for all eventualities, nature always wins in the end!

The dogs were not impressed.  They ran around as usual in the snow and the rain, and, to my surprise, were quite quiet – often the silence when there is little or no traffic encourages them to bark – they can hear the echo from the hills opposite us and think they are answering those “other” dogs.  But this time, apparently the peace of the snowy hills influenced them, and they ran and played with little barking.  Even the podengos, after a few minutes of protest and foot lifting about the cold and wet, began to dig around in the snow to see what was under it.

Habibi, however, found all of this absolutely unnecessary and annoying.  He was not at all interested in exploring the snow and cold, and when forced to go out, he sat on top of the dog houses, to remove himself as much as possible from that slushy stuff.  He knew that his job was to keep my feet warm, and was very glad to perform such an essential task.




We are back to normal now, normal winter temperatures which are about the same as summer temperatures in a good portion of the world. The dogs are dry, most of them have been groomed to get rid of the relics of the bad weather, the highway is back to normal activity, and the dogs are barking as usual.

Sunday, October 20, 2013

The Unholy Fourteen


I hadn’t had a collie litter for nearly two years.  There is nothing as sweet as a collie pup, and there were a few bitches who were scheduled for the next litters.  One was Chance (my enthusiastic sheep herder), who was now four and a half and had not yet had a litter.  I didn’t really want to wait longer, and risk possibilities of pregnancy or whelping problems.  And now I had a male that would suit her beautifully. 

The second was Kate, my smooth girl, who had produced several outstanding litters for me, with show winners and service dogs.  She was now seven, and, although she absolutely loves having puppies, this would be her last litter.

I didn’t anticipate having a large number of pups.  Chance was from a litter of one, and her mother in her previous litter produced only three.  The intended father, Tattler, a new boy that had arrived from England only a few weeks before, was only a year old, and inexperienced.   Kate, at seven, well, I didn’t expect a large litter (although in the past she had had litters of eight and nine pups), at her age, I would be happy with one lovely little female that could carry on for her in future, as she enjoyed her golden years in peace.  I even had a name for that one puppy – Legacy.  This was to be a repeat mating of a litter from two years ago that was very successful – and had only four pups.

As is common, all the bitches came in season about the same time.  Chance and Kate were bred at almost the same time.

I am not one that runs off to do ultrasound exams – I always felt that it was possible to wait for the two months of pregnancy and then see the results.  The two bitches did show signs of being pregnant.  Kate did not look at all big, so I expected my one puppy, just hoped it was a girl.  Chance did develop a belly, but nothing out of the ordinary, and it didn’t seem to affect at all her energy, spirits, or desire to catch helicopters.

As the whelping dates approached, everything was ready, each bitch had her own room with a box, and neither of them showed much interest.  Kate was due first and was experienced, so I had no doubts that when the time came, she would have no problems.

Then, several days before due date, Chance started to show signs of imminent whelping.  She wandered around the house, poking into corners, ignoring the comfortable box, (of course!) and trying to persuade me that my bed was the proper place…She was not in stress, not panting heavily, and I could see that there was still time.  I left her in the whelping room, and went to bed, but of course, was up ten times during the night to check. She looked at me with a calm gaze – “What are you so uptight about???” and went back to her introverted thoughts of what was happening inside…

In the morning, she was kind enough to let me finish feeding and cleaning the other dogs, and then she started to produce puppies.

Chance was very efficient about it. This was her first litter, but she acted as though she had already delivered many pups.  She efficiently pushed them out, cleaned them, and went on to the next.  I sat in the room with her, offering her water occasionally, but other than that, I was totally superfluous.  Four puppies, five puppies….”Chance, “ I said, “that is great. You can stop now!”  Six, seven….she stopped at nine.  Six sables, three tricolors, 4 females and five males.  The puppies were a few days early (the pressure of carrying nine puppies had evidently had its effect), and they were tiny little things, an average of about 150 grams – but vigorous!  From their first breath of air, they headed straight for the nipples – obviously they inherited their mother’s great love of food! – and latched on.  I was prepared with such a big litter to give them a supplement – but they were not the least interested, only mama for them!  And regular weighing showed them all gaining weight as they should.  They were strong and content, even if small.

Litter two was born two days later. Kate did not give me any early warning signs, she quietly had her puppies in the middle of the night, and in the morning I found her contentedly nursing five – four girls and one boy, including my little Legacy.

14 puppies!!!!!!

The first three weeks are of course no problem.  The puppies are only interested in eating and sleeping, and the mothers are calm and content, relaxing with their kids in the box, cleaning them and enjoying motherhood.  Once I saw that Chance’s nine were all nursing very efficiently, growing, and strong, I could stop worrying about them – even though at this point Kate’s pups were twice the size.  But I knew they would catch up in time.

As we approached the magical number of 21 days, life began to liven up.

This is the point where we start to see the difference between smooth collie pups and rough collie pups.  They may be basically the same breed, but….

Chance’s little fluffballs indeed became alert to what was happening around them, to people coming into the room, to the new experience of real food, to the noises of the household, toys and so on. But they were gentle and well mannered, and although they would stand up with their front legs over the top of the whelping box, they came out only by invitation, when I would lift them out to let them run around in the living room.

The smooths became aware of everything at the same time – but for them, new things meant interaction.  What a strange idea, to sit in the whelping box and watch the world go by outside it!  They insisted on being in the midst of things.  By the time they were three and a half weeks old, they were not only climbing out of the box and running around the room, but they were using the puppy fence as a ladder to climb up onto the sofa, from which they would bungee jump back down.  No arrangement of box and fence helped, whatever I tried, they surmounted.  Life is not meant to be closed in a box!!!!  When I opened the door to come in, they were between my legs like a flash and running for the freedom of the whole house.  And they were fast and determined!  Food – well, the gentle mannerly nibbling of the roughs was unknown here – they dived into the food bowl with all feet, and gobbled.  Keep in mind, this was all going on with puppies that were under five weeks old.

Their introduction to the great outdoors was as expected.  The roughs sat in a pile next to the steps and cautiously moved forward inspecting everything and watching mommy to see what was expected behavior.  After a few minutes of examining this fascinating new world, it was time to start running around and playing and enjoying the new toys they found outside – but always at a reasonable distance from the steps into the house, their known safe place.

The smooths, on the other hand, from the minute their little feet touched ground, took off like little streaks of lightning in all directions, and I could almost hear the “Wow!!!! Look at this!!!! Look at that!!! I need to taste everything!!! I need to pick everything up!!!! I need to bungee jump down those stairs!!!!” as they tried to do everything at once.  I was kept occupied preventing the bungee jumps…

As they got a bit older and more “experienced” in life, the whole bunch of puppies played and ran around together and the roughs learned from the smooths (not the opposite, of course, that would have been too easy), and they all ran, played, jumped, chewed…Great fun for all!

Except for me, of course, who had to try and watch 14 little bouncing balls scattering all over the yard, picking up and chewing everything in reach, getting in the water dishes (that is great fun!), and then finding some mud to dig in…
Keeping 14 active puppies clean and presentable is no picnic – by the time I had brushed one clean, the ones I had cleaned before were ready to be cleaned again.  These puppies were well acquainted with having quick showers in the bathtub from a very young age.

It is always very hard for me to part with my puppies, I am always tempted to keep them all – but of course that is not possible,  I have to admit that with these guys, as each puppy went to its new home, the difference in activity and amount of care was very apparent!  Each one had such a strong personality that it was very noticeable when it was taken out of the group.

Ten puppies have gone to excellent homes, and some of them have a future as therapy dogs as well.  Four have stayed here (obviously I was not going to be able to let them all go!)  My little Legacy is here, of course, her pet name is Robin, and she is smart, learns everything immediately, and then thinks about whether she wants to do it. Her tricolor rough brother, Lucky, is a big awkward boy with a very sweet nature and no idea that he is bigger than the others.  The two Chance kids, Topaz the female and Tawny the male, take after their mother – they have not yet paid much attention to helicopters, but like their mother, they love to run after the hose pipe and try to grab the water, they nip at the shoes and pants legs of visitors trying to herd them, and they are extremely talented at climbing fences to get into my poor little patches of garden that are meant to be protected from the dogs.

Well, four is easier than fourteen….



Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Rose Garden



It has been a long time since I have written anything for this blog, and my conscience twinges whenever I think about it.  When I started this blog, my plan was to write at least once a week, to use this as communication, a bit more in depth than posts on Facebook and such.  Unfortunately, good intentions don’t always work out. But here I am again!

There is a well known saying about life, that we were never promised a rose garden.  How true!  The last few months have been involved with getting through the thorns.  There seems to be such a plethora of thorns!  I look around at the world, and so many people are having such a hard time just surviving, we are constantly being warned and frightened about countless things that will damage our health, cause innumerable insurmountable problems in our lives, and kill us all in the end.  What is even more scary is that everything that is condemned by one group seems to be supported as the cure for everything by another group, and vice versa.  So no matter what we do, it is wrong…Well, I hate to say it, but life does kill all of us in the end…

I am very depressed by all of the uproar about animal rights, which seems to mean that in the end, if all these things become law, we will never be able to enjoy the company of animals again.  I don’t know what I will do if that happens.  I enjoy the company of animals much more than of most people I have ever met.  I also find that a great percentage of people that I know that love animals are not exploiting them, abusing them or abandoning them.  There seem to be a lot of people that I don’t know, and I don’t have any desire to make their acquaintance.  But please, let us who love our animals live with them!

And on a personal level, life has been very difficult.  Costs of everything rise and rise, but there is little possibility to find enough work to cover all of the expenses of simply staying alive.  One of the horrors of life is a phone call from the bank…I haven’t bought any new clothes for several years – that is a luxury. The dogs don’t mind, I think they prefer things with many years of familiar smells on them.  Our continuing struggle just to stay in our home of course is very expensive in legal fees and so on.  I am in a day to day struggle to find things to do that will bring in some income, and it is very stressful, and not too conducive to sitting and writing.

So those are some of the thorns, pretty big ones at that.

But then there are the roses.  This season, I had two litters of collie pups, which are now just over three months old.  One mother, Chance, was bred now because she is four and a half and has never had a litter, and I didn’t want to wait until there were more possibilities of difficulties.  The second bitch, Kate, is now seven, and is due to become a pensioner and live an easy life.  Kate loves puppies and is a super mother, and her pups have always been very successful, so I wanted one more litter, in particular, what I wanted was one smooth female like Kate that could carry on for her – I already had a name picked out before the breeding was done, Legacy.

Chance was from a litter of one, so I didn’t expect a large number of pups, and Kate, at seven, would certainly not have a large litter…

Chance had nine puppies and Kate had five!  Beautiful, strong, active puppies, that needed no help to find the nipples and grew and grew and grew.

Fourteen puppies at once is quite a lot to keep one occupied.  And since I am breeding for strong and active temperaments, they definitely required a lot of attention.  More about them in the next post!

So there were a lot of thorns – but there were also a lot of roses!  Having a rose garden is not meant to be easy, but the results are worth the thorns.


Afterword:
Our court case goes on, combined with an attempt to get together the funds to do some urgently needed kennel repairs.  Friends in the Canaan Dog community has been kind enough to establish a fund to help us out. Anyone interested can find it at:
Every little bit can be a great help to us.

We also would appreciate signatures on the petition supporting us:

Thanks to all!

 


Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Diva Mama


Although she certainly is a Diva, Janey has been tremendously enjoying her time as a Mama.  She is inordinately proud of her puppies, and her devotion and meticulous care of them would arouse envy in the most dedicated Jewish mother. 

It was perfectly understandable that while they were small, she would be ready to feed and clean up after them, but now they are over two months old, big, fat and active, but Janey, although she hasn’t really got milk anymore, is still willing to let them sprawl across her and suckle a few times a day.  The sight of these puppies, already about a third of her size, but still her babies, is quite intriguing. 

She still cleans up after them, and she cleans them.  This is not an easy job.  These puppies, from two desert born parents, have decided that water was created to splash in, and they spend much of their time with as many feet as possible in the water buckets.  Not only feet, of course.  The next stage is to  run around the yard collecting leaves and mud that sticks to the dripping puppy fur.  Janey patiently attends to each one in turning, licking them dry and cleaning them fastidiously, so that they can go back for their next turn at the water bucket.

Although she is a very eager eater and never one to turn down a meal, she is still regurgitating food for her babies.  Few bitches still have this instinct, but in Janey it is still strong and she can’t resist giving the little ones this additional food, even though they are eating three hearty meals a day.  They, of course, eagerly gobble down these extra treats.

Protecting the puppies is, of course, essential!  People are very welcome to pet and play with them, although Janey prefers to have all the petting for herself. But no other dogs are allowed to get anywhere near the perimeter of the puppy pen – Janey stands between the invader and her darlings showing her teeth and producing a sort of banshee scream, “Stay away from my children!!!!!” Janey is always quite vocal, expressing her opinion in varying tones about everything – this is, after all, a diva characteristic.  But the puppy-protection tone itself is definitely enough to deter anyone.  Habibi is the major target.  Any time he comes out of the house, there she is, vigorously warning him from getting near.  Habibi finds this whole situation very boring – he has no interest in invading the puppy pen, and really doesn’t see what the fuss is all about.  He passes the diva with a supercilious expression of , “Oh, really….!”

However, when the puppies are running free in the yard or on the lawn, Janey has no problems with Habibi being a substitute father.  He is very tolerant of puppies, and even enjoys playing with them, and Janey seems to see this as a break from her responsibilities to entertain and discipline her family.  She rests in the shade, watching what is going on, perfectly calm and unconcerned about Habibi’s participation.

She does love to play with the puppies herself – especially in the evening, when the weather is cooler and the yard is shady, she runs and plays rough and tumble with them, teaching them everything a good Canaan needs to know about communicating, and is always very careful to keep everything at a level that is suited to youngsters.

A few of the pups have gone to their new homes, and Janey doesn’t seem to  miss them – there are still five, and some of them will be here for several months more before they leave for new homes.  Somehow I think that Janey will not be interested in resuming her diva life until all the puppies have gone – motherhood for a Canaan is more attractive than anything else.








Monday, March 4, 2013

Diva


It seems that Janey has decided that a perpetual state of pregnancy will assure her of all her aspirations in life.  Janey has decided that she is a true diva.  Having the puppies will mean that she has to become a caring mother; being a diva is much more fun, so she is dragging things out as long as she can.

A week or so ago, Janey was introduced to the whelping room, my special little room adjoining the living room with all the comforts and necessities a mother and new litter require.  It took about five minutes of inspection of the room and the whelping box for Janey to decide, “This is mine!  An entire room, just for me!!!!”  The room was made even more attractive by the fact that this is where the dog food bins for the house dogs are.  I had to put a puppy fence around the bins, since Janey decided that all food here was free and hers.

Janey has a choice of sleeping in the whelping box, with piles of papers to scratch around in, or on a nice plush dog rug near by.  This morning I found her in the whelping box with the dog rug, which she had carried in and arranged comfortably.  Why choose if you can have them both?

Of course, Habibi is stopped at the threshold.  This room is hers!  But she is very calm and regal about it all.  No scratching around, poking in corners, nervously looking for the proper place – although this is her first time to have puppies, Janey obviously understands exactly what is about to happen, and that she is special and deserving of the consideration and worship of all involoved.  Come, slaves, and rub my belly…

Update:
The puppies have been born.  In true diva style, Janey ate her breakfast (no ridiculous middle of the night hours for her), had a nap, and decided that carrying around this enormous belly was getting to be a nuisance, and it was time to start.  Very calmly and efficiently, she started to deliver puppies.  There was an absolute minimum of fuss, no excessive panting or fidgeting around, just a few strong pushes, and the puppy was out.  Without any hesitation, she thoroughly cleaned each new arrival ( very sensibly spacing them with about 45 minutes between pups, so that each received the necessary attention), and each clean and dry puppy was then nudged over to a nipple.  By late afternoon, the family was complete – eight big fat pups, contentedly nursing, with their mother curled around them, extremely pleased with herself.

Like all Canaans, Janey is an extremely devoted mother.  The first two days, I actually had to pick her up out of the whelping box and carry her outside for a few minutes of relief and movement.  Food and water had to be brought to her in the whelping box (well, a diva doesn’t have to move, she gets served…) – her puppies needed her every second.  Now that they are six days old, she is willing to get up and come out every now and then for a few minutes, warn all other dogs to stay away, and then come back quickly to inspect the little darlings.

I have never been one to let visitors in to see puppies while they were very small, as most mothers do not care for this.  But I have had some house visitors in the last few days.  Janey immediately came to the door of her room (the door is glass, so that I can see what is going on inside and the dogs inside can see what is going on in the living room), asked to be let in, climbed onto the lap of the visitors and started to tell them how absolutely and unbelievably clever she is and what amazing and gorgeous children she has…

I have a feeling that raising this litter is going to be very interesting…


Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Gentleman


Janey , the Jordanian girl, is now living in the house,  She is due to have puppies in a few weeks, and I decided that since she is due at the time of the year when we might have absolutely the worst weather of the winter, better for her to be inside.  In actual fact, Canaans have no trouble with the conditions outdoors, and many of my bitches over the years have had their puppies in the kennel in a well protected whelping box.  But Janey has decided, for reasons that are not clear to me, that going into a dog house is unnecessary pampering for a Canaan. In the heaviest rainstorms, I can look out and see her curled up in a tight little ball in the middle of the yard, empty comfortable and dry dog houses on each side…

So since I prefer that new puppies have the basic comforts, I decided to bring her in.  At this point, I am beginning to wonder if this was not her plan from the beginning.

Just coming into the house was not her agenda.  The plan was to take over the house.  After a quick inspection, she immediately decided what were the most comfortable and desirable spots, and that these spots were HERS.

My house in fact belongs to Habibi, he is the king here.  Other dogs tread softly around him, and know that the spot next to the sofa under my hand is his, and also that all toys, bones, and other amusements are not to be touched without his specific permission.

But not Janey.  She immediately set her sights on the spot next to the sofa, wormed her way in between Habibi and me, and then had the nerve to growl ferociously at him to warn him to back off!

One thing that most people do not realize about dogs is that almost without exception, males are gentlemen.  They back down to the females, even when the girls do not deserve it.  Whatever explanations the behavior experts want to give to this is not really relevant, it is simply a fact – the dog world is much more polite and respectful to the female of the species than we are.

So Habibi backed off, with a rueful glance at me, to ask why I felt the need to let this troublesome creature in to his domain.  Not even a little growl in return.  Not even a lift of the lip.  Just a little twitch of the whiskers…

Janey then decided that she would take over one of Habibi’s bones.  He watched her carry it over to the carpet and start chewing away at it, pondering what was the best course of action.  Finally, he simply walked over to her and, without any sort of threat  aside from a bit of stiffness in his posture, he gently and very delicately picked the bone up and walked away. 

Janey is no fool.  She knows that even politeness has its limits.  Ears back and head down, she rolled over on her side to show her well developed belly, and let Habibi take the bone.

She still keeps possession of the spot next to the sofa, but Habibi has the privilege of getting on the sofa and curling up on my feet.  There is no way that Janey will be allowed to do this.

But the looks that I see on Habibi’s face as he watches this presumptuous lady are priceless and indescribable, but highly expressive.


Saturday, January 12, 2013

Rain, Rain...


We have just been through four straight days of rain.  After a number of years of drought and near drought here in Israel, rain is very welcome and a blessing.  But sometimes blessings are a bit more than we bargained for – no one really expected that we would get most of the winter’s average rainfall in four days.

Despite the fact that almost every year there is at least one very heavy rain, with a lot of water coming down very fast, and a lot of discussion about what needs to be done to prevent flooding, somehow it seems to never get past the level of talk.  And so this year, with very heavy rains continuing almost non stop for four days, all the rivers and streams in the country filled to overflowing (serious overflowing!), the Sea of Galilee rose higher than it has been in years, gorgeous waterfalls appeared where they have never been seen before, and of course floods.  No comparison, of course, to floods we have been heard about in the last few years in other countries, but many roads closed and even completely under water, and houses and neighborhoods flooded so that people had to leave their homes for a few days.  And despite all this, I haven’t really heard of anyone who was unhappy about the rain – we do appreciate water here.

I have to admit that rain is not my favorite thing.  I very much appreciate the necessity for plenty of rain, to replenish our resources and to bring all the plant life around us into burgeoning life, and we have no fear of floods here, being up in the hills, but it would be nice if it didn’t rain on my house. 

I have a deep seated trauma about rain on my roof.  When I moved into this house almost 43 years ago, it was almost a total ruin, and it took us many years (since we never had any money to pay for repairs) to get it into normal,  comfortable and livable condition.  So for many years, winter rains meant that in part of the house, you needed an umbrella when there was heavy rain, and most furniture and such had to be moved out for the winter.  We were lulled to sleep at night by the drip-drip-drip of the water from the ceiling into the variety of pots and buckets that were strategically placed all around the house.  I developed extremely good selective hearing – in my sleep I could hear the vessel that was full to almost overflowing, get up, empty it, put it back, and go back to sleep until the tone changed again.

One year, when my parents visited from the US, in the rainy season, they found me on the roof spreading plastic sheeting and holding it in place by nailing down wood strips, in hopes that the rain would run off…It didn’t work very well…

I was also terrified of thunder storms.  People worry about their dogs being afraid of lightning and thunder – well, mine never have been, they were the ones that comforted me.  There was a reason, of course.  We lived here for 17 years without electricity (yes, NO electricity, not a generator), not by choice of course, but still…When we finally got electricity, it became addictive immediately. Perhaps for us it was even more essential than for those who always had it.  Thunder and lightning storms almost invariably caused us to have electricity blackouts, and usually it was at night.  So there we were, in the cold and dark, with raindrops falling on our heads, and just the dogs to keep us warm…

The associations are indelible.  Whenever there are thunder storms, I nervously wait for the electricity to go out.  And although we have rewired and renovated everything over the years, at least a few times a winter we are left sitting in the dark, with the rain falling on the roof (and yes, it always does happen at night).

The dogs don’t mind the rain. They all have excellent shelters, with roofs, dog houses, everything necessary to keep dry.  And then I look out and see them lying curled up in a ball in the center of the yard with the rain pouring down, or sitting on the doorstep with a nice big dry dog house 30 centimeters away…

Habibi, however, definitely does not like the rain.  He is totally spoiled.  I think he could go for two days without peeing at all if it meant not having to go out in the rain.  I let him out, he sits on the top step pressed against the door with this expression of “You can’t be serious! You expect me to go out in this????? No self respecting dog should be tortured like this!”  And this is not just when the rain is pouring down, a fine mist and wet ground is quite enough to offend his sensibilities.  He will just sit there until I go out and make him get off the step and go out to the yard.  “Well, if I have to get wet, so do you!”

When he comes in, he dashes around the house, wiping the water off on the bedspread and the sofa, and then goes to sit next to the radiator until he is sure that he is completely dry.  I have to say that I do identify with him, my feelings are the same.

This year there was a lot of snow that fell during this huge storm, mostly in the north where there is snow every year, and some in Jerusalem, where there is sometimes snow, but usually not much.  This year there was quite a lot – enough to cover things, build snow men, have snow ball fights.  Israelis get very excited about snow, and those that live in the areas that never have snow will get in their cars and drive for hours to go and see the snow.

We are just under the snow line, there is very rarely any snow here, and there wasn’t any this time either.  I do not miss it – I grew up in Chicago, and I know what REAL snow is.  The one time, some years ago, when there was a really heavy snow that covered us also, the kennel roof collapsed from the weight.

Habibi, though, has not seen snow. I wonder if he would consider it to be the same as rain….

The big snow at Shaar  Hagai - once in 43 years...

Monday, January 7, 2013

TV Time


One of the pups, who is now seven months old, is spending some time in the house these days to learn house manners.  Shoshana was in the house as a small puppy, but has been out in the yard with the other youngsters for a while.  But now her turn has come to be inside.

She seems to be quite pleased with this situation.  So far, she has not tried to chew anything up.  Of course, Habibi has a lot to do with this exemplary behavior.  As far as he is concerned, everything in the house belongs to him. So if she tries to pick anything up, she immediately finds him standing over her with a stern look of “Put that down! It’s mine!” 

However, she is no pushover.  Habibi spends a lot of his indoor time either lying on my feet on the sofa when I am there (not my favorite place for him, as the sofa is rather short, and he is not a small dog…), or lying next to me, either next to the sofa or next to my chair when I am at the computer.  So I was relaxing and watching television with Habibi next to me when I heard an emphatic growl.  Shoshana had decided that SHE wanted to be next to me, and she was growling at Habibi to move!  I was first of all amazed that she had the nerve to try it, and then further amazed by the fact that Habibi let her get away with it!  True that he is very tolerant of puppies, but to let another dog crawl in between him and me, and to let her get away with growling about it …! 

I found this interaction fascinating.  Shoshana growling with a very serious look on her face, Habibi just looking at her, and then Shoshana licking his nose as she continued to growl – “I don’t really mean it, I just want to sit here, but you need to take me seriously...”

So there we all were, watching television. At first, Shoshana didn’t pay any attention to it, she was busing worming her way into position next to the sofa.  But then she suddenly noticed all the movements and shapes and colors, and whatever a dog does see on the TV screen, along with the noise – Oh my!!!! What was this????  This was enough to make her give up her position next to the sofa and retreat to the kitchen doorway.

After a while, she decided either that this weird object was not dangerous, or that her preferred spot was more important. She ignored the program that was on, and concentrated on protecting her territorial rights from Habibi.

And then a new program came on,  We are now getting an American series, I guess you could call it an action series, “Spartacus”, about the Roman gladiators.  I had never seen it, and was curious, and quickly discovered that it was a showcase for some really good bodies, both male and female, with the males engaging in really serious rough stuff. (At my age, I am allowed to admire these physiques, but I could do without the addition of blood and guts…)

As the battle scenes came on, with the posturing men in their aggressive positions, muscles standing out, faces with that dominant male stare, Shoshana stood up, head forward, ears up, and stared.  These figures on the screen were threatening!  Look at that body language! Who knew if they weren’t going to jump out and attack us!!!!  She stood there and barked at them – inside that strange box or not, they did not belong in our house!

No question about how well Shoshana was reading body language.  Who says that dogs don’t pay attention to what they see on TV?  Mostly, though, it is just not significant enough to respond to.

Habibi thought that this just proved how silly she was – everyone knows that there is no one inside the television…