Well, it hasn’t really been a quiet month here in Lake Jocelyn. Many little changes, while our girl seems to remain her loveable self and continues to let us know in ways little and big what a privilege it is for us to be able to live in her house.
Her regular walks seem to be mostly uneventful, though a bit ago I took her over to a local park next to a boat launch area where she proceeded to make me doubt her doggie credentials. As we approached the lake, there right in her path was a very large, even verier ripe fish. Just the right thing to get a self respecting dog smelling like…whatever it is they constantly try to smell like. Not Fuzzy! She took one whiff, seemed to wait to see if it was going to scamper, or fly, or do something to merit her attention, and when it refused to amuse her, off she went without a second glance. So, it would seem she thinks she’s meant for better things.
Which she got a few days later. Despite a winter of frequent, if not real regular, brushings, Old Fuzzy was getting to be a bit more of a fur-bearing bear than we could manage. So off she went to the groomers at Otter Lake, and a few hours later she came back much trimmer and smelling like a garden. That seemed a bit much for her though, as she spent a bit of yard time doing the back-stroke across the grass, and came into the house, and plopped on the couch very pleased with her new smell.
The recent thunderstorms have proven to be quite a trial for Jocelyn. She in no way wants to have anything to do with thunder. We spent a night or two cuddling her on the couch downstairs during the worst of them. She’s totally against trying to get up the circular stairs to our bedroom (her one and only try resulted in a tumble back down from the fourth step). We decided to take the advice of a friend and try a Thundershirt for the next storm. With the promise from Chuck (or maybe Don) that we could return it if it didn’t work, we wrapped her up tightly in it just in time for the next storm. And it really made a difference! She stayed calmer, still panting a bit heavily, but not for as long, and not shaking. So, while Jocelyn doesn’t yet view a severe thunderstorm watch as an opportunity to run out on the dock and ooh and aah at the lightening, she seems to feel a bit more comfortable with Mother Nature’s tirades, and we get better sleep.
That’s not to say she avoids the dock all the time. A few days ago we got a first-hand experience of the tremendous support system that exists within the RAGOM community to ensure the welfare of the adopted and foster dogs. Long story short, Jocelyn (her friends call her Fuzzy) got out of the yard – through a half-latched gate out to the dock. Within five minutes I realized she was gone and we headed north and south along the lake shore, not knowing which direction she had headed, and worried she would get tangled in weeds or slip on the rocks and not be able to get out. Then this happened: I went back to the house to get my cell phone so we could coordinate our search better; there was a voice message from a man who said he found her a couple blocks away and that she was at his mother’s. He got our number by calling the RAGOM number on her tag. Within ten minutes the woman lead a slightly gamey smelling Jocelyn by a leash down her driveway and into our car, and our frantic search (aided by a couple dog-loving folks passing by) had taken less than an hour. YAY RAGOM!
One more thing. When they brought Jocelyn to the woman’s house, they put her in an enclosed backyard with her three dogs to await our arrival. And there were no incidents. For whatever reason, Jocelyn simply sniffed and wagged and decided to be a congenial guest.
All's well that ends well, I suppose.
