Rosie and Sophie – Page 3

Doggie diaries: The story of Rosie and Sophie Remember to close the windows

We should have called these guys Hilts and Hendley, after the lead characters in The Great Escape.

Consider their escapades on Thursday. We swung by my brother’s house after work — had a new roof and new windows installed and he wanted us to see them. Rather than lock the dogs back up in their pen, where they spend the day, we threw them in the car.

We got out at Mark’s, leaving the dogs in the car with the rear windows partially open. As we got out of the car, Annie asked if we should close them a bit. I said, no, it should be OK.

And then I turned and saw Rosie with her head and paws out the window. I ran back, closed the rear windows some.

That’s when we noticed the dogs in the front seat. They’d snuck between the bucket seats, Sophie sitting in the passenger seat and Rosie moving around. We laughed and went inside.

A minute later — maybe less — it dawned on me that I’d left my window, the driver-side front window — open, and ran out the door.

Too late. By the time I got outside, Rosie was on her way out the window and running toward the house (thankfully), or so I thought.

She bolted for the front yard where Sophie was — she must have gotten out first and I hadn’t noticed. Luckily, I was able to corral the two of them, though before I had full control they rushed the front door and into the house. I followed, slammed the door shut and Annie and I managed to grab them.

Lesson: Do not leave the car windows all the way open. Better yet, take them out when you get out of the car.

Doggie diaries: The story of Rosie and Sophie Getting pointers from TV’s Dog Whisperer

Annie and I were watching The Dog Whisperer tonight — and so were the dogs. The show stars a dog trainer — Cesar Milan — who takes difficult cases and rehabilitates them, taking dogs that might otherwise be put down and making them into the kind of family members we all hope our dogs will be.

Our dogs, which have run of the house, do have some behavioral issues — we’ve lost a couch and numerous shoes — but they are pretty good for nine-month-old pups.

Even so, there remains much more that we could be doing — as our dog trainer has pointed out. We need to be more consistent, need to stay in control and show that we are in charge. None of this is easy, especially after long days at work. But we have to make the effort.

In any case, we noticed as we watched that we weren’t the only ones in the house fixated on what was happening on the screen. Rosie and Sophie were engrossed in the show, as well. Maybe they’ll pick up some pointers.

Doggie diaries: The story of Rosie and Sophie Sleepless in suburbia

This diary has less to do with the dogs than with their sleep habits — and their effects on Annie’s and mine.

I failed to post to the blog yesterday, a rarity for a weekday, because I was dead on my feet. The reason? The pups have started waking up in the middle of the night to go out. This morning it was 4, Monday it was about 3 and we’re now going on about six days of this.

I’m bushed.

Annie’s sister Susan suggested ignoring them so that they don’t develop this as a long-term habit, and there is some logic in that. The problem is that they make it impossible to ignore — scratching the gate we use to keep them penned in our room at night, crying and generally making a nuisance of themselves.

So, I get out of bed and let them out and walk around during the day like a zombie.

Of course, they get to lie around all day — ah, the dogs’ life.

Doggie diaries: The story of Rosie and Sophie The new puppies become beach bums

We made the short trek to the beach this morning with the dogs, bringing along a pair of 20-foot leads and some water toys. Both took to the water like fish, or at least like the parts of them that are retrievers.

They splashed a lot and liked to chase the incoming waves, and I was successful at keeping them from drinking the salt water. (You don’t want to know what happens when dogs ingest too much of that. We learned the hard way with Honey a couple of weeks after 9/11 at Sandy Hook. We enjoyed it immensely — until the salt-water kicked in and Honey into a fountain. But I’ve said too much.)

A woman was jogging past and the dogs ran over to her — it is difficult to control dogs on 20-foot leads — and Sophie promptly did her stop, drop and roll, seeking a belly-rub from a total stranger. She did it again a bit later to this woman who was down here from Massachusetts — Sophia is a fiend for the belly rubs.

My niece Kim was in charge of Rosie (right), but Rosie is incredibly strong and Kim and my sister-in-law Susan had all they could do to handle her. And then, as if Annie’s vacation hasn’t gone badly enough (she is sick), Sophie pulled hard on her sand-coated leash and scraped Annie’s leg up pretty badly.

So now, we’re back at the house resting and I think I’ll go for a run. It seems like a nice time for one, after all.

Doggie diary: The story of Rosie and Sophie Houdini dog strikes again

It has been an eventful week with the doggies, marked by their growing comfort with the car (woo hoo!) and an unfortunate willful streak that has both Annie and me feeling a bit frustrated.

They’ve regressed with their jumping and nipping, a huge problem that we have to take care of now. They’ve been on the counters and the dining room table — they got a hold of some important mail one day and stole a sandwich I was making for lunch on another. They’ve also been digging (I think I’ve got that one under control — when they dig I squirt them with a water bottle) and refuse to listen when we kick them off the couch.

This morning brought a scare, courtesy of Rosie the Magician. I let them out in our fenced-in yard, did a few things in the kitchen and then looked out the window. Only one dog visible. I went outside, figuring that Rosie was back by the shed or on the other side of the pool. She wasn’t. Somehow, she managed to get out of the yard and was investigating the creek that runs adjacent to our yard.

That’s when panic set in. I ran into the house, grabbed her leash and ran out the front door. I had to calm down before I approached her — if I had run at her or yelled, she probably would have taken off like we were playing a game of chase. I sidled over slowly, pet her and hooked the leash to her collar.

I then went back in the yard with her and checked the fence out. I found the spot she snuck through, an unsecured spot that needs to be fixed. She probably bumped up against it while the two dogs were playing and rolled underneath.

The upshot is that I have to get some spikes and secure the fence so that they can’t push through it and escape. Sheesh.