Enough!

I mentioned that to Zoe, ball was love. To that end she would play ball all day, devising new ways to work with the ball. We played "Monkey in the Middle" and puppy was the monkey and she adored the game. She would grow angry after awhile if no one dropped the ball and we always complied to keep her in the game.

I began using her ball to practice golf shots. I would hit the ball with the club and she would chase after the ball retrieving it and dropping it by the club, then sit on her haunches ready to spring into action again to get the ball. This would continue until I was tired. She never tired of ball.

While the toy was all consuming in her world, I had other chores to do and Zoe would have none of that. She would follow me around with ball, placing it at my feet. One day, I learned the magic word for puppy - "Enough!" The mere mention of the word and the ball dropped from her mouth and onto the floor. She would then go onto her bed and lie down. All in one fell swoop.

I did not teach her the word. Her reaction was spontaneous and ingrained. Someone else had taught her the command and I just stumbled upon the key. It was the first of many commands that she knew before coming to live in my home.

Puppy's Unusual Features

There were a couple of things that stood out about Zoe when I took her home from the Humane Society. Things I didn't know before I adopted her at seven to eight months old. The most obvious was that she was missing part of her tongue. The vet assured me it must have been an old injury. Seriously?! I thought I had a defective dog missing a chunk of her tongue on the right side. It didn't stop her from licking my hand or playing ball. If anything she was more outgoing and independent.

Speaking of playing ball, I had to teach her about toys. Whoever raised puppy did so without balls or squeaky toys or sticks. Zoe had no concept of play. I would toss her a ball and she would look at me like it was a cactus. "Ball - what's that?" was the look she gave me. I was beside myself. I called my Dad and asked him what to do. I never had a dog that didn't know how to play. My Dad said, "If you enjoy doing something, your dog will learn from you and take a cue from your actions and love it too." He was right. Each night I would work with her rolling the ball toward her and praising her when she paid attention to it. Soon she was catching the ball, doing flips in the air and bouncing the ball off her nose like a soccer player. Ball was love.

What I found so appealing about Zoe initially was that she didn't bark at me when I approached her pen at the Humane Society. All the other dogs joined in a barking match to see who would be the loudest of them all. Zoe refrained. She came up to the chain-link door and looked at me. Even when she was at home with me, she didn't bark. She made an unusual noise. Puppy yodeled. That was one of the clues that she was a Basenji.

Escape Artist

It was useless to cage the dog. I found that out early on in our relationship. I had borrowed a large cage from my sister until I could afford to buy one for Zoe. It was a wire cage with openings all around and it sat in the kitchen with a view of the backyard. Spacious by all standards.

I placed the dog in the cage and went to work. When I got home, she greeted me at the door. I went into the kitchen and checked the cage door - it was closed. I tried to open the cage door and it opened with some hesitation. It wasn't the easiest device to operate. I looked at the dog, She looked at me. I tried the cage door again and told myself I must have let the dog out before going to work and forgotten to put her in the cage.

The next day I repeated the process. I put Zoe in the cage and went to work. Again, she greeted me at the door, tail wagging when I came home. Now this time I was certain I put her in the cage. I rechecked the cage's door handle, still in the closed position. How did the dog get out of the cage? Did someone come into my house and let her out? Why would someone do this? Who would do this? There had to be another explanation.

There was. I put Zoe in her cage again then went into the living room. I called out to her, "Zoe, come here Zoe" as I watched the front of the cage from the other room. "Come here girl," I said. All 35 pounds of muscle squeezed together. I watched her head slide out between the cage's bars and the rest of her body followed. It was if I witnessed the great Houdini perform a magic act in my kitchen.

My jaw dropped as she ran over to me. There was no point in crating this dog. This dog was Mrs. Houdini.

Rumble on the Highway

Harley Davidson Motorcycles. What's the most recognizable feature of these American made machines? The throaty roar of their engines rumbling so loud that the deaf can hear them. (sorry, hearing impaired) That same familiar sound was what my dog loved. Although, I didn't know her love for Harley’s until my nephew pointed it out to me.

We were driving to Indiana with Zoe riding shotgun. Zoe bounced into the back seat of the car each time she heard a motorcycle like a ping pong ball across the net. Legs jumping and nose to the back window, she would begin barking. "Arf, arf, arf, arf, arf, arf, arf, " she called out to the riders, barking until they passed our vehicle. At times she would bark less at the choppers and more at others. I figured she became tired or bored with barking. She was a dog after all.

Rarely did Zoe know the meaning of the word, "tired." She was all about moving and being active.

It was then that my nephew mentioned that Zoe only reacted to Harleys. "A Kawasaki," he said, "only got three barks. A Honda didn't warrant even lifting her head to look. But a Harley Davidson was a long series of barks." That's how we knew she loved Harley’s above all else. She could even identify a parked Harley that was for sale at the side of the road.

So great was her love for this machine that near the end of a three mile walk she spotted a Harley turning a corner, yanked the leash from my hands and took off down the road after the rumble. Zoe bolted at full force -lightening speed compared to my run which looked like a walk next to her speedy legs. Lucky for me, a teenage male working on his car saw the chase and called out to my dog. Given her affection for men, she tuned her attention to the young fellow who promptly handed her back to me. Nothing like a Harley to get your heart started. After all the excitement, Zoe was ready to walk another three miles.

To satisfy her desire for motorcycles I took her to the local Harley Fest each year. She was in heaven. These were her people and she felt comfortable and content walking amongst the bikes and their riders. I was a fish out of water.

I even got her photo taken with Santa on an Indian motorcycle one year. Zoe sat in the sidecar happy as a lark and Santa had a quizzical look on his face. Anything to please the dog.

Puppy and Rain

Another unusual habit puppy had was staying out in the rain. She refused to come in during a storm when I first got her.

Zoe would lie beneath a bush or against the house as I tried to encourage her to come inside. "Come on puppy, come inside," I would say. The dog didn't move. I would stand in front of her waving my arms and motioning for her to go into the warm house. "Go on, go inside." The dog looked away. Did she not want to be warm? Did she prefer the cold, damp air? I certainly preferred being warm and dry.

This scene would go on for almost 30 minutes. It would involve me bribing the dog with food - which didn't faze her. I would cajole her - no response. Throw a ball or squeaky toy to her - she would roll her eyes. Finally, I ended up going outside with a leash and bringing her in that way.

I am certain my neighbors got a kick out of watching our antics in the rain. Maybe she was waiting for a squirrel to pass through and couldn't leave until it did. Maybe she loved falling asleep to the sound of rain on the ground. Maybe she was waiting for her former owner. I will never know.

Spiders, Flys and June Bugs...oh my!

I never had to call an exterminator for my house when Zoe was near. She ate everything. All manner of bugs and insects - flying or crawling. In some cases, demanded that I retrieve the intruder and present it to her like a gift, or a treat. Many the time she sat on my bed, barking at the ceiling in the middle of the night. I awoke only to find a spider patiently making its way across the drywall like an upside down high-wire artist on a tightrope. Did she hear the spider? Not unless the spider was wearing tap shoes. Did she see the spider? Zoe slept in another room. My only conclusion was that she "sensed" the spider was there.

I could leave the screen door open and know that any fly that dared to enter my puppy's air space was not long for this world. The fly would buzz by me and the dog whizzed past, hot on its trail. A few leaps, a snap of the jaw and the sound of a tongue licking its chops and I knew that Zoe had a protein snack for the day.

The most unusual bug she desired was the June Bug. She would patrol the yard at night and come back with the creature in her mouth - sometimes in mid-chew, other times dropping it on the floor to devour it in front of me. I would hear the crunching sound and see the contentment on her face. This was a delicacy to her.

I must point out that I did not teach her about bugs or encourage her love of making them a snack. Zoe entered my life when she was seven or eight months old and had a previous owner. She was found as a stray and brought to the shelter. Because she was such a sweet dog, the workers fostered her to a family until she found a forever home - me. Puppy brought her refined tastes with her into my home.

My first insight to her discriminating palate was when I was removing a lilac bush. The roots were a mangled mess and as I dug, I found grubs in the soil. The dog would eat the immature Japanese Beetles off the shovel as I dug around the plant - fighting me for the grubs before I squished them with the shovel.

She must have been on her own for awhile and had to eat what she could to survive. I wonder if I could do the same if I was hungry.

The Giver

My beloved puppy of 17 years was taken from this earth last week. She led a long life. A good life and was treated with respect and love.

Zoe was a Basenji mix. That's 36 pounds of muscle combined with intelligence and charisma. She could charm the socks off of anyone. And she could ignore anyone.

I miss my little pookie bear so much. I expect to hear the tags on her collar jiggle as she walked down the hall. Or alert me to a potential squirrel onslaught with a series of barks. But the house is quiet. There are no little feet pattering across the kitchen floor. The birds and rabbits seem to be in mourning for the loss of their adversary and are convening in other yards for the moment. The world is still.

Zoe was such a unique canine. I feel the need to share her idiosyncrasies with the world. Partly to honor her memory and partly to console my grief.

For the next few weeks,this blog is dedicated to my warrior - Zoe, the wonder dog. The toaster. The champion ball catcher and giver. She gave me much love and taught me more than any book. I sometimes felt as if she was the owner and I was the pet.

Good Deal on Bounty Paper Towels

Home Depot has single rolls of Bounty Basic paper towels reduced to 70 cents a roll. Use the $1 off 2 item coupon from the June P & G insert to get these rolls for 20 cents each. Yes, Home Depot takes coupons!

Allure Floor in Living Room

Busy again installing flooring. This time in the living room, I selected Allure Trafficmaster vinyl strip flooring. This is different from the previous vinyl flooring in that it's a floating floor. The strips adhere to each other and there's no need for a foam underlayment like Pergo requires. Again, I painted the sub-floor with an oil-based paint and filled gaps with wood filler. After all that, I patched any nail indents with a portland-based cement floor leveler. Looks good!

Wood-like Vinyl Strip Flooring

Been busy installing a new floor. I ripped out the old carpet, pad, nails and tack strips, patched the plywood underlayment with wood filler, painted the plywood with oil-based KILZ, then leveled the floor with a portland cement-like product. (How's that for a run-on sentence). Next, I spread adhesive on the surface and began laying the 3"x36" strips of vinyl in a staggered fashion. Looks pretty darn realistic.