Schrodinger’s Cockroach and a Jake Update.

While in Los Angeles we stayed at this upscale high rise hotel. Actually it was Newport Beach. Anyway… You all know the story of Schrodinger’s Cat, right?

In a nutshell:

So Sunday morning I hopped out of bed only to step right next to a giant cockroach, or as my grandmother used to say, cock-a-roach. I screamed and jumped back on the bed.

Cock-a-roach

Cock-a-roach

My husband grabbed a shoe and tried with all his might to kill it, but the cockroach slid under a loose piece of carpet which my husband then beat on like a fiend. We were afraid to lift up the piece of carpet so we decided to treat the cockroach like Schrodinger’s Cat. Until that piece of carpet is lifted up the cockroach is both alive and dead and we didn’t want to see it in either state of being.

Now onto happier tidings~

Jake goes for a rebound.

Jake goes for a rebound.

My dog is a basketball idiot savant. I swear it. Last week he began practicing a new skill– throwing the basketball with his forearms.

Jake understands rebounding. For several years now he’s been able to stand on his hind legs and grab the rebound with his front legs, bring the ball to the ground and dribble away.

Last week I watched him stand on his hind legs, catch the ball, and then attempt to throw it out of bounds before his front legs came down to the ground. I did a double-take. No. Way. He could not be doing what he appeared to be doing.

But he was. He practiced all week and now he’s got it nailed. He’s taught himself a new skill. He can now stand on his hind legs, catch the ball between his forearms and then throw the ball over the out-of-bounds barrier before he has to drop down onto his front legs.

Jake is one scary German shepherd dude. Scary. Scary. Scary. I’ll do my best to catch a picture of him doing it. Promise I’ll try. Julia

Jake and the cheeky squirrel.

Every morning a gray squirrel sits in one of our redwood trees. He’s waiting, impatiently I might add, for Jake to leave on his walk so he, the squirrel, can have the run of the yard. He cavorts! Drinks his fill out of our fountain, chases the birds from the feeder and gorges on birdseed, stashes away his acorns in my garden– where they grow into little oak trees the following year because he’s forgotten all about them. He’s a hoot. And Jake hates his ass.

The little bugger...

The little bugger…

Jake knows he’s up there. The squirrel sits on his branch, chattering away, and tosses redwood cones down at the dog, hoping to chase him off. I’m guessing since Jake eventually does vanish from the yard, the squirrel assumes he’s won. I put Jake in the car and when I come back in the house to get my keys and my cell phone, that cheeky little fellow is already on the deck peering through the sliding door. He’s practically turning somersaults he’s so happy. Our yard is his wonderland. It provides much of what he needs – food, water, soft soil.

It reminds me of Louie and Tub-Tub. Tub-Tub was our neighbor’s cat. Louie hated his guts. All one of us had to do was say the name, “Tub-Tub,” and Louie went crazy, tried to rip the stuffing out of the closest toy.

With Jake I just say, “The squirrel’s out there,” and Jake is out the dog door in a flash, ready to rip him limb from limb. But he’ll never catch the squirrel.

And Jake is thinking, like Hamlet:

Aye, there’s the rub.

So You Think You Want A German Shepherd Dog Like Jake…

My husband and I were hiking this morning, discussing how much time we both devote to our dog– by necessity.  You know, the woman who bought Jake’s full brother gave him up after nine months.  She couldn’t take it anymore.
At least two or three times a week someone stops me expressing gushing admiration for our beautiful German Shepherd dog and asking where they can get one just like him. We have decided these people should take a quick quiz to see if they are really ready for a dog like Jake.
Get out that pen and paper and take this test.  Scoring:  1-strongly disagree, 2-disagree, 3-maybe, 4- agree, 5-strongly agree.
1. Are there at least two people at home prepared to dedicate their lives to keeping a dog happy? (1-5)
2. Do you enjoy working 10 hour days, arriving home and immediately going out for a 90 minute hike…year-round…in the dark/rain/mud/sleet/snow/wind even when you’re sick and after you’ve already hiked for an hour first thing in the morning? (1-5).
3. Do you sometimes complain that triathalons are not challenging enough? (1-5)
4. Do you not care if your beautiful backyard lawn is turned into a patchwork quilt of brown pee spots? (1-5)
5. Do you not take it personally when some people, upon spotting your dog, immediately freeze in abject panic? (1-5)
6. Do you enjoy chasing your off leash dog as he pursues wildlife into the next county? (1-5)
7. Is your idea of a good time thinking up clever games for your dog to play and then playing those games 3 hours per day, every day? (1-5)
8. Are you OK with blocking off half your house so when the front doorbell rings you have to walk twice as far to answer it? (1-5)
9. Are your neighbors OK with routine raccoon clearance operations carried out at 4AM involving lots of running around and barking? (1-5)
10. Are you OK with waiting to pack for a trip until the very last minute because even looking at a suitcase sends your dog into a catatonic depression? (1-5)
Add up your score:
(30-50) Go for it!
(20-30) Proceed with caution.
(0-20)  No fucking way
All credit for the test to my better half, Oscar.  I merely edited and formatted.
Still the playinator.

Still the playinator.