Hurricane Season Returns

Life has settled into a generally pleasant routine here. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to working full-time, in that it is so hard to keep up with family and dog medical responsibilities, keep up with shopping, etc. But I truly love working as a pet training instructor. I haven’t pursued using any of my dogs as a training demo dog, as the bosses started being more stringent about my keeping the dog in a crate whenever I’m not teaching, which would not be fair to a dog who has come to the store to be with me. But I get kisses every day from some of the sweetest dogs in the world, and my doggie students adore me because they associate me with treats, fun and new friends to play with.

It’s somewhat of a relief that it’s already hurricane season and we haven’t evacuated yet. Looking ahead to hurricane season had been very depressing for everyone around here. The store is stocking up on obscene numbers of pet crates and carriers, and people who would otherwise have never considered crate training are buying them. For a couple months I have been saying, “If we have to evacuate again, let’s just move. I can’t live like this.” Many times a day I mentally rehearse what I would need to pack if we evacuate. It’s not something that I am doing on purpose in order to prepare; it just comes naturally. And after what happened, the implicit assumption is that there WILL be damage, so that one wants to pack EVERYTHING of sentimental value, however trivial. I rehearse and rehearse, but on some level I know that I would give up before packing all the things that I really want to protect. No one has enough giant foot lockers to pack up all the photos, old letters, yearbooks, doll/watch/stamp collections, pet supplies, computer equipment and electronics, etc. It ends up being neither comforting nor practical to play these mental games.

I felt like I was just meant to adopt Butter and Cinnamon after Katrina, and their integration into the household has been easy. In retrospect, however, I realize that their addition will make evacuation (and moving if necessary) significantly more difficult than it was before. Four dogs in a motel room was pushing it, but six is unthinkable. From now on our family will need two motel rooms each night. At least I am no longer caring for my friend’s parakeet, and I found the misplaced small pet carrier that could take the place of one large birdcage, so the birds will be easier to transport. See? I’m still rehearsing evacuation plans in my head! It’s endless.

My daughter is now almost thirteen. Now that she is in a less-demanding public school, she is not required to attend summer school. She is attending day camp for a few weeks, and in mid-July will leave for a month of overnight camp in Utica, MS. There is a fair amount of shopping and labeling that needs to be done to prepare her for that, and I don’t know how it will get done. She is also preparing for her bat mitzvah which is to be held over Labor Day weekend. We have to plan a big reception, and I am stymied as how to go about it. My first fantasy was a dolphin-themed one, but the Aquarium of the Americas is available for rental at prices more suited to a year’s college tuition than a thirteen-year-old’s one-night party. Kate is now saying she wants a fiesta, but I don’t know how we can serve Mexican food and manage to prepare it in a way that it will be kosher. How can you make Mexican food without using pork or mixing meet and cheese?

The summer before Katrina we redecorated our family room, buying a beautiful rust-colored microfiber suede sofa and new area rug. Within a an hour or two of our laying down the rug, one of the dogs vomited on it. Okay, that’s what Simple Solution is for--not to worry. But Butterball, the Golden that we took in because she had hospitalized a toddler, has taken to lying on that sofa everyday—and after she drools on it, she likes to open the cushions and spread feathers throughout the room. She has done this over and over, making incisions all the way across the pillows so there is no way to hide the damage. She destroyed both of the major back cushions and just has started on the two smaller ones. It’s too late to save the sofa, but before she starts moving on to other furniture, I finally have to nip this in the bud. Today the Scat Mat goes onto the sofa. I have never used shock on any of my dogs before, but Butter is driving me to desperate measures. Right after I bought the Scat Mat, I tried it on the kitchen counter, setting it at the medium setting recommended by the manufacturer for large dogs. Although I tested it on myself, I knew for certain that it wasn’t too horrible when Kate tried it on herself a second time.

I don’t approve of the eagerness with which I listened for Butter’s reaction; it was creepy to see that in myself. (I think that people often resort to punishing methods for less-than-honorable reasons.) Finally I could tell when Butter jumped up because of the scampering noise of her back feet on the Pergo-covered floor. But it was one-trial learning: Butter didn’t need a second experience to decide she was no longer going to jump up along that part of the kitchen counter. I hope that the Scat Mat is equally effective on the sofa. It‘s too bad that the sofa will now be off-limits to all the dogs, but no one else was using it. anyway.

Well, I spoke too soon. When I got home Kate and Cinnamon were sprawled on the sofa together—a sight I’d not seen before. Kate said that she had shocked herself sitting down on the sofa. I suspect that she did so more than once!