I had heard a lot about “Up North” from Momma prior to our trip.  It was, after all, where she was raised.  I know that this part of the state was near and dear to her heart.  She grew up on a farm outside the minuscule town of Gully and attended school there and in nearby Gonvick.  She still has many relatives and friends there and often stays at the cabin in the summer.  (Forget the winter, Momma says – it’s too cold – she says she is still waiting for global warming to reach northern Minnesota.)  I always know where Momma stands on the issues.

I also know that no one had better make derisive comments about where she grew up.  For example, last winter a “friend” made a snide remark about the area, saying something like “all the people up there are so Duck Dynasty.”  Well, that got Momma going because she knew the “friend” was being derogatory.  Her rage was tempered, however, by the fact that she admires much about the Duck crew, and therefore chose to take it as a compliment.

I got to experience “Up North” first paw this month when Momma and I spent 10 days there.  Contrary to the opinion of the uninformed, I loved it (maybe I’m a little Dog Dynasty myself!). There were people and dogs everywhere and I got away with a lot more then when it’s just Momma and me.

Her relatives really know how to push her buttons and constantly tease and make fun of her (which may explain why she is the way she is).  However, they also like to tease me – do I look like a fish?

Since Momma was always running off to play golf in Bemidji, I was usually left in the care of the aforementioned relatives.  In fact, I think Momma viewed her family as built-in dog sitters.  They got back at her though, sending texts like “Lina sure likes hot dogs” (off limits) and “Into the beer again; Lina is stumbling around a bit” (off limits to me).  I know these texts drove Momma crazy(er), but apparently not enough that she came home to rescue me.

Even after the relatives left, she relied on her “village” for my care.  One day Momma left me with some women next door who had started the day with a Bloody Mary bar.  You might say that was a little negligent on her part, but I say, party!!!  When Momma came home, she found us on the floor of their cabin – the ladies teaching me to dance on my hind legs!  I’m sure Momma was a touch upset and wondered what else went on, but I wasn’t about to tell her – after all, what happens at the lake stays at the lake.

Of course, the “water dog” indoctrination program continued unabated up there.  To that end, Momma decided that a ride behind the pontoon on “Big Mable” was in order and put the dreaded life jacket and Doggles on me.  This, needless to say, was met with whoops and hollers (think Duck Dynasty again) and much ridicule.  Momma ignored the jabs though and demanded a turn on Mable – cutting short the ride of the children in front of us who were actually enjoying themselves:

On Big Mable with Jenny and Momma

Unfortunately, like all good things, our time at the cabin came to an end and Momma announced that it was time to return to “The Cities.”  She had business to take care of there, she said, and errands to run (code for facials and shopping and the like).  She promised we’d be coming back soon though and I can’t wait.  “Up North” is a special place, and I dare anyone to say otherwise!

Lina, Honorary Dog/Duck Dynasty Member

WOOFDA!

As they say in good old Minni, the “dog days of summer” are upon us.  (I told Momma that phrase sounds a little doggist to me and that I’m offended, but she told me to get over it.)  In any case – it’s hot – and we are still lacking an air conditioner.

The big news of the day?  The dreaded Doggles have finally arrived!  Momma was so excited, she was beside herself – she couldn’t wait for me to try them out.  Here I am showing her what I think of them~

Momma persevered though and proudly placed me on her SUP.  As you can probably tell, I am looking around for help~

SOS!!!

As cautious as I still am about the water (it didn’t help that Momma “accidentally” dunked my head in the lake the other day), I enjoy my play dates with CoCoa.  Here we are glued to the action as Rachel learns to paddle board:

I am, of course, the one wearing the dorky life jacket.

The other big news of the day?  We are going on a little trip up north – or as Momma cleverly puts it, to “up state” Minnesota – this week!  Momma tells me it is beautiful up there and that it’s where she grew up (grew up?).

I think I’d be a little more excited about the trip if we weren’t headed for another lake (is there no escaping them in this state?), and that means the water dog immersion program will continue.

The other concern – the cabin is practically in Canada and I’ll be confined to my little doggie seat for over 5 hours.  Momma says not to worry, however – the time will go by fast because we’ll be listening to conservative talk radio the entire way.

I showed her what I thought about that and chewed up her elephant pillow!

Lina, Dissident

WOOFDA!

It has been a tumultuous week with Momma.  It started with her getting a bad cold – I’m thinking it was from our rocky ride to Rachel’s on the SUP.  I also got sick and threw up in my crate (I think it was from some bad dog food Momma fed me – but I have to be careful about my allegations against her).  Unfortunately, some of my stuffed toys in the crate were ruined so Momma was forced to go to the pet store to get some replacements.

Do you see how she is trying to indoctrinate me at every turn?  I can just sense her thinking – you will learn to swim and you will be a Republican.  Also, do you see the clearance tags?

Momma was ostensibly too sick to do anything with me last weekend so Rachel said she would bring CoCoa over to play with me in the backyard.  Talk about a silver lining!  And guess what – without any pushing from Momma – I was able to dog paddle!!  Momma, of course, was watching and finally couldn’t stand it anymore.  She miraculously overcame her illness and rushed outside to take photos – and control.

Later that week, Momma and a group of ladies – and CoCoa! – went out “pontooning.” We had a grand time.  The ladies had coffee and breakfast, and CoCoa and I had doggie snacks and water that Rachel brought.  All was going well until a huge bald eagle (known to snatch up small animals) appeared over the pontoon and began scoping us out.  Momma freaked, wrapped me in her arms and yelled, “Take CoCoa, take CoCoa!”  (Okay, I made that part up cuz I saw it in a movie once, but I know she was thinking it!)

The week ended with a scorcher.  We have been living without AC ever since Momma learned the cost of a new unit.  First she got a price from “BigCo,” but ruled them out as scammers (they were the ones who said she needed a new one).  Next she got a local guy from “SmallCo” to come out, thinking she might bully him into a good deal.  However, that didn’t work out either and he left after about 15 minutes of Momma telling him how to diagnose the problem.  Afterwards, Momma – who finally noticed I was panting and my eyes were glazed over- informed me, “Don’t worry, Lina, we can always cool off in the lake.”

I for one am glad that last week is over.

Lina, HotDog

WOOFDA!

Well, Momma finally got her way.  I have now been a (reluctant) passenger on both her kayak and stand-up paddleboard (SUP).

Credit to neighbor Cindy for the SUP photo.  Momma spotted her boating and taking family photos and “barged” right in.

Note that I have a look of extreme concern on my squinty little face (she keeps promising me Doggles – doggie sunglasses – but must be waiting for the fall sale).

Momma’s plan to get to know people on the lake with me along has been met with limited success.  (I don’t know when she’ll realize that most people just don’t view a boat ride as a chance to visit with her.)  In fact, fishermen – who want it quiet – usually ignore Momma in an effort to shut her up when she calls out, “How’s fishing?”  One of them did put a scare in her the other day, however, when he informed Momma that she better watch out so a big muskie didn’t get me.  I, on the other paw, was somewhat relieved – maybe I wouldn’t have to go in the water after all!

Last week we had a play date with Rachel’s dog, CoCoa.  Despite gale force winds, Momma was determined to paddleboard over (we could have walked – Rachel only lives a block away) and announced, “We are going by sea!”  Momma used me as ballast on the front of the board which was tough duty because the waves kept crashing over me.  When we somehow blew ashore at Rachel’s about an hour later, CoCoa was waiting!  We had a great time chasing each other around and eating dead fish.

Soon, though, it was time to go home and Momma, still in full nautical mode, proclaimed (as though she were the ancient mariner), “Time to set sail, Lina!”  The wind had calmed considerably, there were no other boaters around to make fun of us and we made it home above board.  Don’t tell Momma, but I could get used to this!

Lina, Padidog

WOOFDA!  (Hey bro, SUP?)

Ever since Momma got me, most of our activities have been geared towards making me a water dog.  And not only does she want me to swim, but also to ride with her on the paddle board and kayak.  I don’t know why that is so important to her, but I think it’s so other boaters will talk to us.

To that end, Momma often dragged me (illegally) down to the roaring gulf in Florida to acclimate me to the sea.  To no avail, however; it was so humungous and loud that it terrified me!  She and a friend also took me to a doggie water park in Bonita Beach where I was nearly trampled by a giant dog.  Needless to say, this did not help in Momma’s crusade to make me swim.

Undaunted, Momma started a new regimen when we got home to Minni.  As soon as the ice was off the lake, she led me down to the shore and started throwing out little sticks for me to retrieve.  I venture out a little ways – but I have my limits – the water was freezing!

Yesterday was a new chapter in our lake life.  Rachel brought CoCoa over for a backyard play date which was, by the way, super fun.  Momma even brought out a couple of toys including a ball and water frisbee.  Soon she was throwing the ball toward the lake, hoping to lure me into the water.  I’m no fool though and refused to chase it.  After one errant toss, the ball went into the lake and floated beyond Momma’s reach.  Momma (who wouldn’t dream of wading into the ice cold water herself) was forced to grab a paddle board and rescue the ball.  I have posted a picture of her in action below.  As she paddled out, she pointed out that the ball had cost her $20.00!  She also pointed out (and I quote), “If you were any kind of dog at all, you would have retrieved the ball!”

Even with her big push to get me wet, until now Momma had not forced me to go out on the lake on one of her questionable vessels.  All that changed yesterday, however, with the arrival of my life jacket in the mail.  Our maiden voyage will be this weekend.  I hope Momma will have both oars in the water.

Me wearing the dreaded life jacket.

First Mate Lina

WOOFDA!  (Batten Down The Hatches!)

The other day Momma was invited to a Minnesota Twins game at Target Field.  She was quite excited!  Visions of the cool new stadium, the buff ballplayers, the food, the all-around fun danced in her head.  She was in a magnanimous mood and even gave me extra treats before she left.

When she came home, however, Momma was upset.  She said it wasn’t that the Tigers beat the Twins, but that she wasn’t happy with her experience at the ballgame.  In fact, she had the distinct feeling that the world as she knew it was over.  Momma said that this was no longer a country she recognized.

It started with the wait for her host outside the stadium by the big bronze glove.  She was enjoying the sunshine and the activity when suddenly the fake-cheery, yet authoritative voice of the announcer came over the loudspeaker with his pre-game remarks.  He started off on a positive note with, “Welcome to Target Field,” but things went downhill from there when he launched into several minutes of annoying announcements regarding security and rules of behavior.  Momma knew that rules relating to security were necessary these days (for example – no bags larger than 16″ X 16″ X 8″), but she was outraged with rules designed to make sure that no one ever did anything that could possibly offend anyone.  In her opinion, his announcements sucked all the fun right out of the game.

After the obligatory announcements about bag sizes and inspections, he continued that there would be no smoking in the stadium, there was no designated smoking area and if anyone left the ballpark (presumable to have a cigarette), there was no reentry!  He also warned against using umbrellas in the event of rain as they blocked the view of other fans.  (This caused Momma to wonder when one could use an umbrella.)  On and on the announcer went:  there would be no walking in the aisles during at-bats, no signs allowed with offensive language or that hindered the views of others.

I think what finally drove her to the brink, though, was when, in the middle of the game, she spotted a message on the giant screen stating something like, “if you witness any inappropriate behavior, please report it immediately by texting the following number…” Really? thought Momma.  What if she saw someone picking his nose?  Or using an umbrella?  Should she text?

Momma’s mood was darkening.  This was not the ballgame experience she remembered when she saw the pennant-winning Twins play at Metropolitan Stadium in 1965.  Then, she told me, the only thing you had to worry about was whether the Twins would win and remembering the words to “Take Me Out To The Ballgame” during the 7th Inning Stretch!  People didn’t need rules then, she fumed – they knew how to act.  And if they did do something wrong or offensive, it was no big deal.  People dealt with it – it was part of life!

Things were to get worse for Momma that day when, later in the game, she headed for the restroom.  She had a cup with her to dispose of (no doubt it was a beer cup), but she couldn’t figure out which trash bin to throw it in.  The bin in the restroom virtually screamed, “Paper Towels Only!”

She was at a loss what to do, so she carried the cup out into the concession area to find a container in which she could deposit regular trash.  However, to her horror, Momma was foiled again.  Every bin she saw dictated that only organic or recyclable items could be disposed of there (and she didn’t know if her garbage qualified as either).

Now Momma was really rattled and noticed that people were beginning to look at her with suspicion.  Scared that someone might text the number for inappropriate behavior, she stuffed the cup into her (not bigger than 16″ X 16″ X 8″) bag and went home.

Sensing that her baseball game experience wasn’t a homerun (I’m a trained support animal after all), I licked her face and all was well.

Lina, P.S.A.

WOOFDA!  (GO TWINS!)

Last time Momma took me to the vet in Minni, it was to have me spayed.  It was a horrible experience and I hated it.  That is why when we went zooming back to the clinic the other day, I was shaking like a leaf.  And it turns out my fear was well-founded.

Earlier in the day, Momma decided to remove the gate on the steps that prevented me from going upstairs.  She had been concerned that if I, for some reason, took a flying leap between the railings to the main level, she would have to scrape me off the floor.  Now, however, she was tired of stepping over the gate and decided to throw caution to the wind.

All was going well – I didn’t even consider playing Wonder Woman – and I had a good time exploring.  Nanny Becky was over and I enjoyed following her around while she worked and Momma read the paper.  It turned out, however, that height wasn’t the main danger on the second floor – there was a toxic house plant sitting in plain view and at the perfect level for me to eat.

When Momma finally pulled herself away from the paper to see what I was up to, she discovered me surrounded by little green leaves from her umbrella plant and licking my lips.  Amazingly, she realized that the plant I had ingested might be poisonous.  This disruption in her day did not sit well with Momma because she was now pretty sure that she would not make her luncheon appointment downtown.  She was also pretty sure there would be another vet bill involved.  (In fact, she specifically pointed that out to me later.)

Weighing her options – my passing away vs. the vet bill, Momma finally decided to do the right thing and called the clinic (plus Becky told her to).  They said to either make me throw up at home or to bring me in.  She lacked the skill or the supplies or something to make me throw up and was also concerned about the mess, so off we went.  Luckily, Becky rode along, as usual the voice of reason and calm.

I was immediately brought into the examining room at the clinic as time was of the essence.  Also of the essence was making me puke, which I did – 6 or 7 times.  As I said, my dread of the veterinary clinic was warranted.  My vomit included dog food, some red string and – sure enough – green leaves!  Momma barely noticed – her attention was on the bill for $87.59.

With Nanny Becky after the plant debacle…

When I texted Uncle Chuck to see if I had a claim against Momma for negligence, he said that he is exploring a legal theory called the “attractive nuisance.”  I wonder if he is talking about the plant.

Lina, Possible Plaintiff

WOOFDA!

We are in Minni again.  This time Momma needed to get home to prepare for a trip to Europe (as I may have mentioned, the budget only applies to me).  Nothing has changed here – this time we arrived to find 9 inches of new snow.  I really had no choice but to sit in the snow and go potty.  And once again I was stuck in my tiny airline carrier and stuffed under the seat in front of Momma – for which the airline charges $125.00 each way.

It probably goes without saying that this has become a real sticking point with Momma, especially since someone told her that human babies under a certain age fly free.

So Momma has started complaining about this policy to anyone who will listen – friends, foes, neighbors, people she doesn’t even know.  A few days before we left for Minni, Momma was at a brunch and brought up her new favorite subject.  One of her friends told her that it was not a problem – all Momma had to do was get a doctor’s excuse saying she is depressed (no problem there) and I could fly for free as a service dog!  Momma was “all ears” – a comment she often makes about me.

A couple of days later, Momma and I came hurtling into the Fort Myers airport to fly home – running late as usual, me bouncing around amid a mountain of bags, Momma half crazed.  She lassoed some guy into helping us and once again launched into her usual tirade about the price of my “ticket.”  He took one look at Momma and said that the airline would probably make an exception for her because of her emotional distress.  He told her that all she had to do was get a statement from a mental health care professional saying that she must have her dog on board with her to “calm her down.”  That was all she needed to hear – she is now hellbent on seeing a shrink and getting that statement.  (For my part, for once I am all for her little scheme – I have heard that service dogs don’t have to be confined to a carrier!)

I have little doubt that Momma will be able to get herself declared crazy.  And I’m looking forward to my new job – and the view from 40,000 feet.

Lina, P.S.A. (Psychiatric Service Animal)

WOOFDA!!

After finally making friends in sunny Florida and getting established in a routine there, Momma announced that we were flying home so she could go skiing in Colorado.  I was horrified.  I hadn’t forgotten the bone chilling weather in Minni and freezing my little (phantom) tail off while trying to go potty in a snow bank.  I also did not look forward to being imprisoned in my little airline carrier for several hours.  However, what Momma wants, Momma gets, so off we went.

Things were no different in Minni than our last stay there.  We were greeting with the usual blast of arctic air and a temperature of negative 11 the night we arrived.  My dread of the entire visit soon turned to joy, however, when I learned that the Bs – Dr. Becca and Nanny Becky would care for me in Momma’s absence.  Also, Momma finally broke down and purchased a new pink coat for me.  I’m not sure what she was up to there, but am thinking she was afraid of my next blog post.

In any case, things were looking up.  Momma wrote detailed instructions for Becca regarding my care just as a normal dog owner would.  First on the list was the amount of food I should be allotted each day, including the proportion of wet to dry.  She also instructed that I could have treats “from time to time” if I was good.

My time with Becca and Becky was fantastic.  They played with me, trained and treated me.  Dr. Becca took me with her to work one day at PerPETual Motion and I had a blast with the other animals.  When I was at home during the day, Nanny Becky would stop by and play with me and take me out to go potty.

Things were going really well for everyone until, not surprisingly, Dr. Becca discovered that Momma hadn’t left enough dry food for me.  When Becca finally reached Momma in Vail on Tuesday (she was busy with après ski), her first reaction was:  couldn’t we ration it out a little to make the food last until Friday when she got home?  Becca patiently explained to Momma that she could not and asked what kind of dog food I ate.  Of course Momma did not know, but rattled off some well known brands such as Purina just to get off the hook (literally and figuratively).

Luckily Becca knew of a good pet store nearby so we drove over and found some appropriate, healthy puppy food.  I did have a moment of panic, however, when some employees decided to weigh me for the fun of it.  I hadn’t forgotten Momma’s warning that she didn’t want me to get too big and I was afraid of further cutbacks in food.  (This will explain the look of concern on my face as I’m looking at the readout on the scale.)  Don’t tell Momma that I am now up to 9 pounds!

Me being weighed!

Lina, Pretty In Pink

WOOFDA!

Life continues to be good in Florida, with one little exception.  Apparently, I ate something bad because I ended up with a GI problem (code for diarrhea).  After a few days, Momma announced that she couldn’t take it anymore and made an appointment with the vet here.  Clearly, she was hoping for the handsome Dr. Garrison, but we got a wonderful young female doc instead.  I loved Dr. Megan – she was kind and gentle and even pointed out which of my teeth were permanent and which were still my “practice” teeth!  Dr. Megan prescribed some medicine that put me on the road to recovery.

A couple of days later, though, I got sick again and, because it was a Sunday, Momma was forced to bring me to an emergency animal hospital in Naples.  I think the thought of the bill made Momma sick, too.  Anyway, off we went.  Momma was a little grumpy because this was to be her day at the pool with her friend, Donna.  In fact, Donna, always the adult in the room – and frankly a little concerned about me, drove us there.

Things took an unexpected turn, though, when Momma saw the doctor on duty – the yummy Dr. Garny.  Even I have to admit that he could have been one of the Chippendales.

Dr. Garny and me

(How does she find these guys??  Is there a website called findhotvetsinswflorida.com??)  Anyway, as you can imagine Momma was very helpful and cooperative and all thoughts of the pool flew out of her head like bats out of the belfry.  She was in no hurry to get home.

The doc, however, had other patients, so he promptly got down to business and looked me over.  He told Momma he couldn’t detect any obstruction in my bowels or other serious problem so he would just hydrate me and give me some pain meds.  When I sensed that Momma was preparing to ask for her own dose of pain meds, I pulled her out the door.

Lina, On The Road To Recovery

WOOFDA!