Nellie this and that

All dogs grow up.  You wish it weren’t so. I’ve yet to see a not-cute puppy, but I’ve seen plenty of pups turn ugly with age. 

But grow up they do, and you go with it.

Better yet, you make a point to look – and listen! – to the subtle changes in the pup’s demeanor and actions.  It’s really kind of fun.

Though with Nellie, it’s cute, sure ... but not so subtle, and not always fun. Let me count the ways.

The weigh-in: She’s bigger now, of course.  We think about 95 pounds.  Given her age of close to 10 months, that’s about right.  So she’s closing in on 100.  Out of curiosity, I checked on other things that weigh 100 pounds.  There’s the Burpee Big Maxx pumpkin with a 70-inch girth, but you have to leave the gunk inside.  A Hellfire missile weighs 100 pounds, plus it can knock out a tank.  Also, the Hawkbill Sea Turtle … slow like Nel, though Nel doesn’t like the water.

So she’s among interesting company. But now we think she might not reach the 130 pounds warned of by the breeder.  Yes, she’s getting bigger, stouter, somewhat taller.  But the pace seems to be slowing.

Not likely to to be this big.

Nellie and Linus.

We might be wrong.  And she’s still plenty big.  Linus can walk under her virtually untouched.  And it’s nice to rub a dog’s head without having to bend over.  But when we got her, I feared she’d get as big as the dog in the photo at right.  Now I’m thinking I can forgo building the stall.

Wacky jowls:  Here’s where we know she’s bigger.  She has the loosest lips and jowls I’ve ever seen – actually, heard – in a dog.  You see, each time she wakes up from a sleep, she rapidly shakes her head about 10 times.  I’ve counted. 

A lot of dogs do that.  They shake out the cobwebs, do a little stretching.  Ol’ Nel, though … well, her jowls sound like two punching bags made of Flubber, whacking each other at 120 whaps per minute.

Can’t imagine?  Go to your bathroom, close the door, and try this: Open your mouth halfway, get your cheeks nice and loose, then hum as low and as loud as you can hum … and shake your head back and forth 10 times, fast, like your head was going to fly off.  Really shake those cheeks!!  Hum loud!!

Yeah … that’s what it sounds like.

White fir cometh:  When we got Nellie, we figured she’d shed a bit.  In fact, the web sites said she’d shed in the spring … to rid herself of the undercoat to stay cool by summer.  She did, and she has. 

A full-o'-her brush, man!

But for some reason she’s doing a fir-flying sequel, and this seems worst than the first. Maybe it’s the drought. Regardless, we have enough white hair in the house to qualify as an assisted living center.

Personally, I think there’s a way to capitalize on this … maybe a line of Great Pyr sweaters.  “Madame Nellie’s Great-Pyr Cashmere.”   A nice ring to that.

Drool me a river:  Nellie’s trip from Minnesota to Kansas City is now legend among some.  (See "Christmas Gift.")  Who knew that a pup could produce five gallons of slobber? 

She’s matured now, though.  She actually likes to go for rides in the car.  Oh, sure, you still have to spread a towel across the storage compartment between the front seats. Nellie insists on looking out over the dashboard. 

But before, when she was shorter, she couldn’t quite see out the window.  And I think that prompted anxiety and a wide-open spigot.

It’s not nearly as bad now.  Still, she has this need as you drive to not just poke her head between you and the front-seat passenger, but push her head hard against your upper arm and shoulder. The whole trip. Not sure why … maybe it’s her way of keeping her sea legs.

So less slobber, yes.  But we aren’t slobber free yet.  We have wet shoulders to prove it.

A mighty roar:  I’ve mentioned before that Nellie is not much of a barker.  Mainly she barks at her own reflection in the kitchen window at night. Rarely outside. So that’s good for the neighbors.

But like any adolescent, her voice has gotten deeper.  She and Zach’s dog, Koa, like to roughhouse. Often they do this standing.   But just as often they collapse on a dog bed, they’re bodies stationary but their mouths agape, jawing on each other’s jaws.  (Nel’s loose lips are Koa’s favorite.)

And while they do so, they growl like two fat walruses, snarling deep, wet snarls. It’s frightening, really.  Not to mention the slobber. In fact, Nel likes to do her whacky jowls thing after this bit of back-and-forth jawing, sending drool 10 feet high.

To fully experience that, try the bathroom exercise again, but this time fill your mouth with water.

Note the chewed-on fabric.

Couch potato:  One area in which she has not grown up is her couch behavior.  Our decision – because it was cute – to let her on the couch as a pup has proved fateful.  Our poor red sofas have suffered the greatest injury – cushions devoid of fluff, pillows disemboweled, the couch covers themselves stained by biscuit residue.

We’ve battled back, although our past tactics were weak – standing the cushions on end, resting footstools on our easy chairs, pinning up the wall quilt so it was out of reach.  It’s looked like we’ve been ready to vacate for the last two months.

The Sofa Scram ....

But now we’ve seized on technology to help.  First, we purchased some inexpensive slipcovers for the red couches – to hide the embarrassment of our weak pet pedagogy. Then Cindy found this device called the Sofa Scram Sonic Scat Pad, which looks like a compact, black  Slip and Slide.  You stretch it across the couch, and if a dog jumps up, it lets loose an ear-piercing squeal – like a smoke alarm.

It works!  Nellie won’t go near the couch now.  Though Zach was surprised when he sat down with a sandwich to watch TV. 

We’re debating whether to buy two more … one for the other red couch, and one for the living room.

We should probably get one for the bed, too.  You see, each time in the morning, when I’m brushing my teeth, Nellie nonchalantly jumps atop the bed.  With Riley, our Golden, a stern look and a loud “Riley!” would shame her down.

Gotcha Nellie!"

But not Nel.  “Nellie!” we’ll say.  She feigns to not understand.  “You shouldn’t be up here!”  She lifts her eyes up, but that’s about it.

And then you succumb. You walk over, rub her ears, and she raises her big head to sniff your nose.

Sure, she’s growing up.  But she’s still cute.