I was trying to explain to a colleague yesterday that Macy is the prettiest dog in the world.

I got a sense from the interaction that he didn’t wholly understand or believe me, so I produced the video below to help him understand. Enjoy! 🐾

I like to tell people that Macy “fell out of the Pretty Tree and hit every brunch on the way down.”

• BOOM… Big ears!
• BOOM… Mottled coat!
• BOOM… Tri-color face!
• BOOM… Awesome blaze!
• BOOM… DOTS!
• BOOM… fringed collar fur!
• BOOM… Docked tail (I didn’t do it, but it’s cute especially when it wags like a metronome!)
• BOOM… Red heeler and blue heeler coat coloration!

Add all that to her goofy, fun-loving personality and you have the Prettiest Dog in the World. Give her the trophy already! 🙂

You’d think there was a supply chain shortage of dog beds at the Grabowski Household.

But there isn’t…

😂

In volunteering at a shelter, there’s always a short list of dogs that stand out in your memory as favorites. I can recount mine by heart at any moment: Kumah, Charlie, Zeus, Syer, Malachi, and Moose.

They could have been exceptionally sweet or quirky. More often they’re the ones that started out as a challenge but in the end taught you something you didn’t know yet.

Moose checked all the those boxes for me. She was an intimidating barker with an equally intimidating size and stature, stationed at the end of our runs where we usually place dogs who are reactive and need a little less stimulation from the passing public.

I’ll admit. I was scared of her. Like so many who passed her, it was clear she’d prefer if I just moved along.

Then I brought some hot dogs with me one day and after some necessary barks, she came over to take a few.

The next time, I got the same big barks but quickly she seemed to stop and say, “Wait. That’s the guy with the tasty meat treats!”

After that, we were best buds and I ended up bringing her home for foster last summer.

It’s hard to describe how beautiful, gentle, and majestic she was. Maybe the video below will do her some justice.

When people talk to me about volunteering at the shelter, they often say “Oh! I’d love to do that but I’d want to take every dog home!” Probably true for them, but for me, it’s always a thrill to get a new training dog when yours gets adopted. The cycle starts all over again.

More than a year on, I still miss Moose and part of me really wishes I would have adopted her.

The silver lining is that she found a really perfect home. I was there to introduce Moose to a couple who already had a shepherd puppy at home.

The interaction was going great and at one point Moose went into a down position, rested her head on her outstretched paws and looked into their eyes. Game over. As she did that, I realized I was not taking her back home with me and we were actually saying goodbye. 😔 The ride home was the saddest drive I ever had returning from the shelter.

I miss you Moose! Keep being an awesome, good girl! ❤️

Macy’s tummy/butt have been giving her trouble for the last few days following an antibiotic treatment.

Yesterday, I woke to find a little mushy present in each room (some very desperately considerately placed as she tried to avoid carpets).

Anyway, she’s fine and eating and drinking well, however she must go to Poop Jail (aka the kitchen with a gate) when I go out.

I came back last night after getting some probiotics from Loki’s mom and I found my inmate half-escaping.

Max strolled too close to Poop Jail so I booked him on a previous offense. Macy seems excited to have a cellmate. 😂

The good thing about Poop Jail is that your guard (dad) has to make you chicken and rice, lest you continue to poop like a defrosted soft-serve machine!

So, Macy was pretty pumped albeit shocked this morning when she got her first prison meal.

Hopefully her guts will feel better in the next few days.

Call it a Belly Band. 🙂

I’ve tried pretty much everything I can think of to encourage Max to not pee or mark inside, so now it’s on to the nuclear option.

Max showed off some really great progress today when encountering unfamiliar dogs at the park.

Among several passing dogs, and although he was concerned with many, he was mostly able to resist barking and recalled back to me in most situations.

At the very end, as we neared the end of a path at the parking lot, I spotted two dogs coming against us, and one was a dog that got a barking reaction out of Max earlier in our walk.

I backtracked quickly and tried to find some space where we could stand on the side of the trail. It wasn’t much space, but we got about 5 – 7 feet between Max, myself, and the passing dogs.

With some reassuring encouragement and tasty hot dogs each time Max returned his focus to me after noticing the dogs, MAX ACTUALLY MANAGED TO LET THE TWO DOGS WALK BY WITHOUT EVEN A GRUMBLE!

It was awesome to see. Great job, Max! On the way home he ‘ruffed’ up some college kids from my car window while they crossed the street, but hey, no dog’s perfect.

Despite his great performance, it was no doubt stressful for Max so I gave him a whole afternoon of peace and quiet. A few photos below.

I made this photo collage for an event at work where we shared one of our “Favorite Things.”

More than 3 years ago, I asked the Volunteer Coordinator at our shelter if they needed any help elsewhere in the shelter. She connected me with their Behavior Department that was looking for a few volunteers to work with dogs.

I had no idea how many things in my life would change with that one simple question.

When you’re younger, decisions where you look back and say “That changed things,” don’t seem that uncommon. When you get older, they seem to come by less often.

Looking back on that one choice, I can see so many things that wouldn’t have happened otherwise. It’s a little overwhelming to think about because I can’t imagine life without all those memories, people, and, of course, the dogs.

I can’t help but think of Max’s First Reactive Rover training class tonight as a class for Bad Girl and Bad Boy Dogs.

So, until proven otherwise, this is how I’m imagining it’s going to go down.

Max is going to strut in in a black leather jacket (where’d he get that? I don’t know, but he looks pretty tough in it) and go over to one of the trainer’s bags, look at her, and just pee on it.

Another dog is going to burst in at the same time, get away from her owner, knock over a treat jar and not even eat the treats that spill out.

A third dog will be in the corner trying to go number two even though he doesn’t need to.

This is the class of punk misfits who come from the life of hard knocks. They don’t give a woof.

I can’t wait… but I will lower my expectations for the above happening. ☺️