Ray Gets a Reprieve

Hogging the couch

WooHoo! We get to keep Ray for another month! (you can't see me but I'm dancing around with my pants on my head). I'm relieved as heck, although I can't imagine how bad it will be to pass him on to someone else at the end of TWO months (if we have to). It would be difficult now, after only one month. But I'm prepared to do it if I have to. A deal's a deal. And in the end, I'll do what's best for all concerned. 

This weekend hasn't been too bad. This morning Gregg heard the new baby gate rattling and went into the dining room to find Ray with his head jammed through the hole that we had cut for the cats. It's only a matter of time before he rips the whole thing off the doorjamb. Maybe I'll try a combination of clothes hanger and baby gate to keep him out.

The cats are missing us. I see Hugo sitting on the stair landing all the time, watching. I make sure to pet him whenever I see him there. 

Hugo, biding his time

But I find myself wishing that he would get tough, walk downstairs and just whack Ray one good one so that the dog wouldn't bother the cats ever again. But no such luck. Hugo and Moonie simply won't come down when they know Ray is mobile.

It was a beautiful morning so we took Ray for a walk around the lake (and let him get his feet wet). It's a good testing place because there are always lots of people and other dogs. We try to get him to mind whenever someone goes by. Mixed success. I think it's probably our fault. We just have no idea what we're doing. It must be hard for Ray to have two such ignorant parents. 

Moonie looking particularly enigmatic

When we got back, Gregg took off for the grocery and Ray and I passed out in the living room. It's only about 3 miles roundtrip but we're both still kind of out of shape. Gregg came back with pizza (yay!) and we went out on the porch to eat it. It got vewy, vewy, quiet in the house (usually not a good sign) so I went in to check on Ray. He had fallen asleep with his front feet and head on the couch again. I honestly don't know how he does that, Or why. 

After our reviving lunch, Gregg took off for the pool and Ray and I took off to do some gardening.

Ray is a very good gardener. He can dig holes like nobody's business and has been trying to grow his own rawhide bones. I think he has a good chance of success with the amount of fertilizer he's been leaving in the back yard. 

The flowers were wilting so I went to the rainbarrels to fill the watering cans. I got one about 1/4 full before Ray grabbed it by the handle (his favorite one with the chewed up spout) and took off running with me in hot pursuit. He dropped it, doubled back, and grabbed my gardening gloves. The watering can must have been a ploy; for a blind dog he's very wily. 
We played a really fun game of chase for awhile before I got my gloves back. I went into the house, got the new rawhide bone that we had bought the day before and gave that to him. Ray loves those bones almost as much as he loves Sasha. He was occupied for the rest of day while I finished my gardening (I honestly didn't know weeds could get that tall.)

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. I reattached a strip of fabric that had been on the bottom of the screen. It's filled with marbles that weigh it down and the strip had mysteriously become detached (ripped off? torn off? cut with a machete by marauding sugarcane workers? We'll never know.). Ray dug up his bone. Buried it. Dug it up. Buried it. Then Sasha came by to play for awhile. 

All in all, a most pleasant day. 

Gregg making dinner