Black Ribbon: Sascha

I am sad to report the passing of my little Rhodesian Ridgeback mix, Sascha, a constant companion of my Malamute boys.

I was there at Sascha's birth, adopted her when she was a scrawny little thing, and then had to figure out what to do with that there dog -- I had only had cats all my life and was a staunch cat person. Sascha grew up amongst cats and was a bit of a cat herself. When she started to grow and get bigger and stronger, I had no idea what to do with her, but a friend told me about obedience classes. She had to suffer through my first shot at obedience training. Traumatic for us both! But we kept at it, and progressed to agility obedience.

Sascha was bitten by a pit when young and had a scar on her butt all her life. It made her somewhat skittish toward strange dogs, but she warmed up to them very quickly, and adored "her" Malamute boys. When I first adopted Allie, she and Sascha were inseparable. When Ghost came along several years later, however, the group dynamics changed, and suddenly the girls developed a mutual desire to see the color of each others' insides. Since then, the girls have been kept apart, and Sascha has enjoyed the company of each boy in turn. In the past few months, as Allie has gotten weaker, she and Sascha have come to an understanding, and they have been outside together again, companionable as a couple of old ladies.

We enjoyed our walks together, which included lots of sit-down-stands and treats. Her down-stay always included a Navy-Seals-crawl, accompanied by a wide grin and mischievous brown eyes. Her idea of "fetch" was to grab the ball and try to play keep-away with it, zooming around me in circles and trying to get me to chase her. She played the Malamutes' reindeer games just like a Mal, grabbing them by the scruff, chest-bumping, and joining in the singing when the sirens went by.

Sascha was my first dog, a sweet, gentle lion dog, who taught me that dogs are wonderful people to have around. We will all miss her.

Huggers

Allie is a champion spooner. Nothing better than waking up with a mouthful a Malafur. Wherever I'm sitting, she'll silently and inexorably ooze either onto my feet or onto my lap, whatever's available, and I find myself immobilized.

Rowan is a true Texan -- he dances the two-step. He'll rear up on his hind legs and gently put those huge front paws on my shoulders, and hop like a bunny. If I have a treat, though, he's laser-focused on that, forget about humom ...

The Magnificent Ghost is finally getting it through the concrete upstairs that he's not allowed to jump up on people, so he jumps up sideways NEXT to me, JUST not touching me, and leans in for a quick kiss and a bat of the Big Brown Eyes ... aren't I clever and cute?? He's more of a leaner than a hugger anyway.

M. writes: >Guess they forgot that our malamutes come into their own so to speak by around 2 yrs of age

Huh! Ghost is 3 and we're still waiting ... ;-)

Kohler ad: eskimo

Not that I didn't lust after a Kohler bath before .... but did they
have to make it this appealing ??
Eskimo ad

And yes, I never bathe alone, but there's usually at least one cat on
the side of the bath as well ... which wouldn't really work with the Sok tub ... anybody else's Mals find submerged
humans fascinating?

My friend Frauke's cat, Katze, thought he was in the Coast Guard and used to grab any body part he could find and try to drag her out onto dry land ...

im so mad

gorila aleksandria shode me how to yus this thing i don spel gud butt gotta tel yu mals how meen mi humom is im so mad!!!

wen she lett me owt of mi hows i wen to the dor an it was open an ther was a pray!! jus standing ther! so i grabd it an startd shayking it lik i seen gorila aleksandria do. i never kilt no pray befor but seen g.a. du it plenty times. butt pray mayde nasty scryyching noys an humom ran owt an grabt me an pray an tuk pray away!! tuk pray insyd hows then kaym owt an sed no eeting kats wats a kat i dunno kats i jus lik the teyst of the pray

neks tym il tayk the pray far awey an then eet it ... iv bin keepin an i on the dor yu bett
woooooo oooo wooo pray to yu
rowan the red

im so mad

gorila aleksandria shode me how to yus this thing i don spel gud butt gotta tel yu mals how meen mi humom is im so mad!!!

wen she lett me owt of mi hows i wen to the dor an it was open an ther was a pray!! jus standing ther! so i grabd it an startd shayking it lik i seen gorila aleksandria do. i never kilt no pray befor but seen g.a. du it plenty times. butt pray mayde nasty scryyching noys an humom ran owt an grabt me an pray an tuk pray away!! tuk pray insyd hows then kaym owt an sed no eeting kats wats a kat i dunno kats i jus lik the teyst of the pray

neks tym il tayk the pray far awey an then eet it ... iv bin keepin an i on the dor yu bett
woooooo oooo wooo pray to yu
rowan the red

Ghost report

Brief report on The Magnificent Ghost:
Ghost spent Sunday night at the emergency hospital. I came home to find him not trying to jump over the gate. Panic! He was lying down in the mud room, got up really hesitantly, limping badly on the left hind. His expressive face just miserable. No vomit, diarrhea or blood in sight. My heart beating out of my chest, speed dial to the vet, called around to find one without a wait. His tummy distended and hard. Bloat?? I got him to limp to the car and broke all speed limits.

Hustled straight in to X-ray. Ages later, the vet comes in with a funny expression on her face. Oh no! He swallowed one of Allie's sharps! He's dying! She shows me the xrays. A huge black sausage almost the size of his whole abdomen! Even weirder-looking from the side: textbook view of large intestine, distended and filled with gas! The galoot can't move because he's full of hot air!!

Almost $400 and a great deal of flatulence later, a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed little stinker (!!) sashays out to play up to everyone in the waiting room, who declare that he ought to be in the movies (they have no idea!!), thoroughly licks the face of a delighted child, offers to eat a chocolate Lab, and gets smacked by a cat. Mals!

Still have no idea what he ate, other than Sascha's hi-calorie food. I got rid of the chicken that Allie killed, haven't seen any other corpses. Will need to get job with vet soon. What will they get up to next?

The Secret of Mal Success; or: The Gig is Up

Reverend General Reign,

The tale I am about to impart, dear General, will confirm once again that on the scale of intelligence, at the very lowest end, we may find:
3: Rhodesian Ridgeback mixes
2: Malamute Males, immature age
1: humans

I blame myself, of course, for not training That Young Sprout, The Magnificent Ghost, as he styles himself, more rigorously in the fine arts of Malamute behavior. In my defense, however, there is not much there to work with, as you shall see.

Our story unfolds before the following background. Our humom has long been faced by two puzzling and apparently unconnected conundra:
a) The M. Ghost eats only about 1.5 cups of Natural Balance Fish and Sweet Potato a day, and yet he stubbornly remains somewhat, aah, shall we say, portly
b) Sascha the Rhodesian Ridgeback x, now in her senior years, and still alive despite my best efforts, eats more than 4.5 cups of food daily, and remains skin and bones.

Yesterday, Sascha, while dashing after a squirrel, crashed into a concrete block and cut herself (much to my glee, of course). At feeding time, humom shut Sascha in her run as usual, but this time, she stayed with her to make sure she was okay. Well, who should come frisking around the corner, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but the Magnificent Ghost, licking his chops after a full meal.

The Idiotic Ghost proceeded to lie down next to Sascha's run, lift up a corner of the chain link that he had previously loosened, extend a long and chubby paw, hook Sascha's almost-full food dish toward him and proceed to scoop out mounds of Sascha's high-calorie food. All this, mind you, in full view of humom, who was not only laughing her head off, but passionately regretting the absence of a camera.

Now if there is one thing I have tried to impart to the Idiotic Ghost, it is that We Work By Stealth. Humans are incredibly stupid, but even they catch on if we pull our stunts right in front of them. T'uh. My exasperation was so great that I almost didn't bother to dispatch the hen that wandered into our yard. Almost, but not quite. A few silent, economical moves, and goodnight, Irene. Will that Ghost ever learn to live up to his name?

Over to you
Your most humble and obedient servant
Guerillera Alexandria