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How close is close enough?

So what do you think? Do you want to get close to this big girl, or not?

A “through the bible” devotion from Exodus 19.

When I’ve got the Great Dane on the leash, a lot of people take a step back from her hundred pounds of puppy energy, her tail whipping back and forth, and scorching-hot panting. Except for the kids. Kids line up to pet the dog, get a sloppy kiss, and gaze into those huge brown eyes.

At the base of a mountain, Moses and the people encounter what anyone else would call a volcano.

“Now Mount Sinai was all in smoke because the Lord descended upon it in fire; and its smoke ascended like the smoke of a furnace, and the entire mountain quaked violently. When the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke, and God answered him with thunder” (Exodus 19:18,19).

The one true God isn’t a statue. He’s no inanimate object made out of stone or wood. The ground is moving. There’s fire, smoke, and unbearable heat. The sound is deafening. Everyone takes a step back. You dare not get too close!

Unless you’re one of the kids. It’s the same God, just in human form. Later on, he takes the children in his arms and blesses them (Mark 10:16).

So what do you think? Do you want to get close to this God? Or not? And I suppose the answer is, “Yes.” I never want to forget the God of Mount Sinai. Nor do I want to forget the compassion of Christ.

Posted in dogs

A dog as big as me

As we got back from a long walk with the dogs, our across-the-street neighbors were out front. Their three-year-old daughter had a big smile on her face as she edged her way towards our dogs. As I always do when kids are around, I not only asked, ” Would you like to pet our dogs?” but also insisted, “Check with your dad to make sure it’s OK.”

It was fine and once I got the heavily-panting Great Dane to sit with her tongue hanging way down out of the side her mouth, the little girl came over to reach up and ever so gently pet her head and back.

Our dog was a few inches taller than the girl, and I thought to myself, “What an experience to meet a dog who’s so much bigger than you!” It’s a Clifford the Big Red Dog experience. I’d be a little nervous. The young girl just giggled. An adult friend of ours who is on the shorter side will have that chance when she stops by to visit next week.

Our puppy is nowhere near done growing. In the course of time, the top of her head may be up to my shoulders. Many more will have the experience of reaching up to pet a giant dog.

And ours will not even come close to the largest Great Danes out there. While some of them flirt with two hundred pounds, ours will probably max out around a buck twenty.

That’s plenty big for us. She already fills up the tub at the do-it-yourself dog wash. It took two of us to hold her while a groomer trimmed and dremeled her nails. When she stretches out, she can reach both sides of our king size bed. She doesn’t grab food off our plates, but once in a while her tongue comes very close to licking our meal.

Posted in dogs

Field trip: the dog wash

Most of our dogs have loved the water. Gabriel (Labrador retriever) would happily leap in any body of water, from lake to ocean, to retrieve a ball or a stick. Samson (German shepherd mix) loved to run through muddy, rain-filled swales along our neighborhood streets. Winston (Westie) will chase water squirted from a hose all afternoon. Yesterday, we couldn’t keep him out of the surf.

We’ve never had a dog who didn’t like the water. Until now. Except for long, sloppy drinks, Willow (Great Dane) has no use for water. She runs away from a squirt from the hose. She prefers to keep her distance from the ocean. She’s curious about the shower, but only through a glass door.

What about bath time? Willow’s not a fan. When she was smaller, we could leash her to the fence in the backyard and force her to bathe. But at eighty pounds, I’m afraid she’ll bring the fence down.

So yesterday’s field trip was to the Salty Dogs DIY dog wash. It shares a building with a BP station. The shop is equipped with four dog wash stations. You don’t need a reservation. Just walk in, tether your dog in a station, bathe, rinse, and let them shake water all over in a place that’s not your bathroom.

Willow knew something was going on. Even with the lure of treats, it took two of us to push her up the ramp into the tub. Once we had her tethered to a hand rail, I hugged her while my wife soaked her down and then sprayed her with soap. I grabbed a nearby bottle of shampoo and added more so we could each wash an end. After a nice rinse, Willow didn’t mind the blow dry. Her short hair dries very quickly. She was more than happy to bounce out of the tub all by herself.

While I paid for our visit, which included all the water, soap, and towels we needed, Willow knocked over a bucket full of rawhide bones, scattering them across the floor. For her efforts, they gave her a free one and let us bring one home for Winston, too.

A visit to this dog wash is $20, but it was Tuesday, so we got the $16 special. We may join the Tub Club, which is $24.95 a month for unlimited washes. They also have groomers and a full menu of services. It’s a cool little place, and beats going through the car wash with the windows open and Willow in the passenger seat.

Posted in dogs

Come on, let’s see what you’ve got!

Two unlikely opponents faced off in this morning’s tug-of-war championship.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in the white corner, hailing from the Tar Heel state of North Carolina, weighing in at twenty-two pounds, let’s hear it for Winstonnnnnnn the West Highlands White Terrier!”

“And in the tan corner, from Ocala, Florida, weighing in at eighty pounds, give it up for Willoooooooow the Great Dane!”

It’s a pretty unusual matchup. If Winston had a wrestling hero, it would be Rowdy Roddy Piper. Willow would be more of an Andre the Giant fan. Echoes of David and Goliath here.

All I have to do is toss the triple knotted blue rope out into the yard and they’re at it. There’s round after round of growling and tugging. But there’s no clear winner. Winston holds his own against an opponent four times bigger than he is. Willow finds it amusing that this little guy thinks he has a chance.

The contest ends in a draw when someone spots a squirrel and they team up to chase it off the fence. With a low center of gravity, Winston isn’t easy to budge. Willow is all muscle, easily able to hold her ground. It is so much fun to watch these two go at it.

I don’t know if Winston realizes that Willow isn’t done growing yet. He probably doesn’t care. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?

Posted in dogs

“I think I’ll have a cheeseburger.”

My across-the-street neighbor was having a garage sale yesterday morning. Sadly, he’s selling his home and moving to be closer to family. He’s been a good friend and trusted neighbor for twenty years.

His daughter had come to help him and I knew she was a lover of dogs. She used to foster Labrador retrievers, but has downsized to French bulldogs as of late. I leashed up our six month old Great Dane puppy to go over and say hi.

Our eighty-pound puppy got a warm reception, but she found all the items out on the driveway very interesting. Especially a box with some old dog toys in it. She sniffed around for a bit and finally came out with this stuffed cheeseburger in her mouth.

God choice. It included all the fixings, was in pretty good shape, and the squeaker still worked! As they say, one dog’s trash is another dog’s treasure.

With her new toy in mouth, she was ready to go. We stayed a few more minutes as her wagging tail betrayed her joy, and then headed home.

As humans, we think that one dog toy is as good as the next. Not true. Dogs have their favorites. The cheeseburger arrived at just the right time. Our daughter’s dog, who came for a two-week visit, had chewed the stuffing out of a popular hedgehog and a two-foot long grinning dog. We needed something new, and we needed it now. Enter the cheeseburger.

As good as that cheeseburger looks, it hasn’t satisfied all our chewing needs. Our puppy has developed an appetite vinyl wicker chairs. A few minutes ago, as I was writing this, I caught her chewing on the extension cord I was using to charge the computer. I could have let her learn a shocking lesson, but decided to save her.

“Here. Chew your cheeseburger guy!”

Posted in dogs

No, you’re not getting a ride

Photo by Japheth Revelo on Unsplash

We take our dogs for a lot of walks, typically once in the morning and then again in the evening. Rather than letting them wrestle on the sofa, we’re willing to put in the miles so that the Great Dane and the Westie can burn off some energy.

Yesterday we passed a woman and her chihuahua we’ve seen many times. This time, though, she was carrying the dog. He couldn’t have weighed more than three pounds, so she could manage. I’m sure there are good reasons why you would carry rather than walk your dog. Like hip problems or hot asphalt. After she turned the corner, our big dog’s eyes seemed to say, “How come you never carry me?”

I knew what she was thinking and said, “Forget it. You weigh sixty pounds and you’re only five months old!”

Another person we often see on our walks pushed her small dog in a stroller. The look on his face said, “Suckers!” Once again, I got a glance from the Great Dane.

“Forget it. Even if they did make a stroller that big, I’m not sure I could push you very far.”

Towards the end of a walk, we came up on a woman pushing a fussy toddler in a stroller. Once the little girl caught a glimpse of our dogs, she stopped screaming and pointed. However as we got closer her eyes got bigger when she saw just how big the doggie was. I told my wife, it’s just a matter of time before the question, “Can we pet your dog?” become, “Can we ride your dog?”

And then, on our way to walking out and back over a bridge, we wondered, “Do you think they make car seats big enough for a Great Dane?” We’ve seen some nice ones that keep smaller dogs from scrambling from the back seat to the front.

I said, “I don’t think they make a big enough car!” Good thing the van has a sun roof. And it’s good to be in Florida where it’s easy to get out walking year round.

Posted in dogs, Travel

Dogs are welcome at the Hampton Inn

When we drive to Dallas to visit my son and his family, we typically spend the night at the Hampton Inn in Richland, Mississippi, a few minutes south of Jackson. It’s about two-thirds of the way there, so it’s a long first day. But day two is a pretty easy drive across Louisiana and east Texas.

On our last trip at the end of March, we stayed in a first-floor room all the way at the end of the hall. Walking back to get things from the car, I did a double take as I passed by the elevator alcove. I saw what looked like a bowl full of dog bones. When I went over to get a closer look, I found a dish filled with Milk-bone dog biscuits in a dish on a small table. They were the good ones, too, the big five-inch large breed variety. A sign on the table announced they couldn’t wait for your dog to spend the night there.

How the world has changed! I vividly remember driving from Iowa to Florida to start my new job there. Michael our chocolate Labrador Retriever rode in the back seat, tranquilized for the long ride. I don’t remember how far I got the first day, but I remember sneaking him up the back stairs after dark to a second-floor motel room. I didn’t ask, so I don’t know if dogs were permitted or not. We left before sunrise the next day so no one would see him. However, I’m sure that he left plenty of dark brown hair on the bed for someone to find.  

Back to the Hampton Inn. I didn’t see any details about extra charges for a dog. I saw no size limitations, either. I would just love to check in with my Great Dane. King room? That should work. Breakfast at 6? I hope you’re serving bacon tomorrow morning! I can imagine her catching a whiff of the bone bowl, knocking over the table, and scattering bones across the lobby before eating them. How would you like to ride the elevator with us?

Chihuahuas and poodles stroll the aisles of Home Depot. People lined up in Walmart to take a picture of a guy with a mastiff in the meat section. They enjoy sitting under outdoor tables at restaurants. Pet stores have always welcomed them. I know our dog would enjoy a night at the Hampton Inn.

Posted in dogs, Great Dane

Everyone has a (Great Dane) story to tell

Everytime we take a walk around the block, our five-month-old Great Dane puppy, Willow, is a little bit bigger. The puppy food is doing it’s job; she gains about a half a pound per day. She gets a lot of attention from young and old who want to pet her. Once they confirm her breed, many have a Great Dane story to tell.

The latest tale came from Kevin who lives just up the street. He told me that he worked for a telephone company before he retired. He was working on a cable into a home and had to go into the back yard. As he came through the gate, two full grown, frantically barking Great Danes threw themselves against the sliding glass doors in an attempt to either greet him or eat him. He said, “I jumped about three feet back, praying that those two didn’t break through!”

When I take Willow to the veterinarian for a monthly weigh-in and heart worm pill, one of the vet techs always comes out for a cuddle. She’s small, no more than ninety pounds, but has two Great Danes of her own at home. She owns a 130 pound fawn female and a 170 pound black and white male. They aren’t little for very long, so our visits gives her a much needed puppy fix.

While we were watching runners finish a race Jacksonville, we stood next to a young man with a black and white Great Dane. This dog had to have been at least 150 pounds. He told us, “I had to train her to only jump up on me. She can easily knock someone over.” Note to self: work on training her to not jump up at all.

At a rest stop on a drive home from Texas, we met a truck driver with a black and white Great Dane named Chloe. She was gentle and friendly, with just a little gray around her snout. The driver told us he’s always had a Great Dane with him in the cab. He took out the passenger seat and installed a bed for the dogs, who just loved to travel with him.

After meeting Chloe, we began to toss around the idea of getting a Great Dane one day. That day has arrived, and now we are accumulating our own catalog of stories.

Posted in dogs

“Where’s Willow?”

It seems like only yesterday that Where’s Waldo? was a popular book in our home. We play a new game now: “Where’s Willow?”

I didn’t think it would be hard to keep track of a four-month-old fifty-five pound Great Dane puppy. But around our house, we ask, “Where’s Willow?” several times a day. She’s both quiet and curious, so she could be anywhere.

  • She might be in the backyard, behind a shrub chewing on mulch or trying to lick grease off the back of the grill. If she’s lying in the sun up against the side of the house, you can’t see her from the window. Sometimes the wind blows the back door shut and she’s stuck out there.
  • She’s still small enough to curl up in a chair for a nap, so she could be in a bedroom or the living room.
  • But she also likes to stretch out on the Nugget (grandkid’s play sofa) or the bottom bunk in the back bedroom.
  • She has nosed her way into closets and nudged the door shut behind her, trapped until we go around looking for her.
  • She knows how to duck behind the kitchen island if she knows you are looking for her.
  • She will follow me out into the garage unnoticed, and then get stuck out there when I come back in the house.
  • I have even found her in her crate taking a nap on a lazy afternoon.

Willow is growing at a rate of one-half pound a day. Each day it gets harder for her to disappear around the house. But for now, if I don’t have time to check out all her hideouts, all I have to do is open up the Milk-Bone canister in the kitchen. If she isn’t trapped somewhere, both dogs will be sitting at my feet before I have finished lifting the lid. Works every time.