King Ferdi + The Little Rat

Ferdi was the physically challenged long hair, the runt of the litter I picked up from an odd little hobby farm in the outer suburbs of north west Sydney, desperate to add a dog to our instant family. He was tiny and had a broken tail (a pig had stepped on it), and as soon as I held him in my hands I knew I wasn't handing him back. Elfi came a year later - Ferdi looked so sad all the time, we thought he needed a friend. We had moved to Hong Kong by then. I found a breeder and a pup in Melbourne, sent my Mum to check her out, and a few weeks later she flew over; so little and so full of energy. But Ferdi still looked sad. (Turns out, that's just how he looked.)

King Ferdi and the Little Rat. Their respective nicknames tell you a bit about their standing in the family hierarchy. According to Sean, Ferdi was the most perfect creature that ever lived, even with his overbite and crooked tail and inability to jump. Ferdi was incredibly stubborn, he always knew exactly what he wanted (not to walk on the grass, not to walk in the rain, not to walk on a lead...). As long as you let Ferdi do his thing, he was happy to live his life with minimal fuss. He was calm and quiet and entirely himself. 

Elfi, on the other hand, was demanding, neurotic and needy. If you were patting Ferdi she would charge over, pushing him out of the way with scant regard for his well-being. She talked, constantly. She yelped to remind you she needed love, attention and human grade food every waking hour. And she always wanted to be with you - on your lap, at your feet. She inserted herself into everything. 

The general consensus in the household was that Elfi was annoying, too loud, a bully. Ferdi, however, was a noble, thoughtful, wise creature. I, of course, went out of my way to love and defend Elfi. She was the underdog. She was my dog. She was my shadow.

I say was because a little over a week ago I had to say goodbye to her. She was 16 (-ish) and had dementia, a suspected brain lesion plus all the symptoms of lymphoma. She was dropping weight rapidly, no matter how much I fed her or what meds she was on. It was the toughest decision. She was going down hill quickly which was really difficult to see, but...she still got excited at dinnertime, she still loved a good scratch on her haunch. 

I miss her like crazy. I haven't been able to pack her bed away yet, and my heart still drops every time I put the key in the front door and realise she's not home. There's no excited tippy taps to greet me.

And it's even harder for my brain to process because the end of Elfi also signifies the end of an era. That household I'm talking about, is no more. Sean died four years ago (how tf is it four years? so short, so long...), Ferdi two years later. I sold the house we bought and built together. My step-sons have girlfriends and apartments and whole other lives (well, one does, the other lives in a granny flat / mansion out the back of my place, but still - he is very self-sufficient). 

Life moves on, that's what it does. And it takes you with it. I'm busy building new memories - with a new house, new dogs, new people - but I hope Sean and Ferdi and Elfi know that I think of them every single day. I hope they find each other, wherever they are. And I hope they know that I am okay, that I am happy.

Death by Doxie : The Festive Edition

I haven't really missed blogging at all, these past crazy few months. I've drafted a few posts in my head but I haven't felt that overwhelming urge to carve out the time for writing and image making. Until yesterday. For some reason the new year has bought with it an overwhelming urge to awaken Good Things*. And whilst I'd like the clear air to write about what's changed and what hasn't, and what I miss and what I don't, and what a day in the life of a Macca's supervisor / owner / fry girl is really like, I've realised that if I want to blog it needs to be short and sweet, for now. So here's the dogs, on xmas day. 

We had a really lovely xmas day. I popped into the store in the morning, planning on just saying 'hi' and handing out some festive goodies, but oh my goodness was it busy. I kind of forgot that everyone is in their cars xmas morning, driving to Aunt Mabel's, and that everyone still needs coffee (actually everyone especially needs coffee), and we are basically the only thing open. So yeah, it was busy. 

I love it when it's really busy, when everyone just knuckles down and works together to get through the mad rush. It's kind of zen too, because you really can't think of anything other than the task immediately at hand. You have to be completely in the moment, completely focussed, to get all those coffees out that drive thru window.

While I was caffeinating the good people of western Sydney, at home the husband and step sons were tending to a giant turkey, which we had for lunch with pickled cherries and gravy and mash. For afters there was cheese and pav (of course there was pav). There was seven of us for lunch and it was relaxed and lovely, and later two more came over for roast turkey rolls with cranberry, rocket and brie (so yum). And then it was just the husband and I and the calm that comes after all that festive build up. 

The dogs got turkey too of course, for many days afterwards actually (it really was a big bird!). I've said before it's really not xmas unless your hounds are dressed up. This year there was no santa outfits or reindeer antlers (they never stay on for more than a minute anyway), but Ferdi wore a red polkadot bowtie and Elfi had a matching rosette. Very cute, both of them. 

Here they are watching the oldest step-son strip the bird, hoping with all their little hearts that a scrap or two might fall their way.

Hope you all had a lovely day too, and that you survived new year's eve, and that 2016 is treating you well so far. x

Renovating With Dogs : Things To Consider

Whilst most of our reno was completed without us and the dogs around (and what's left of our sanity will be forever grateful for that) for a good six months or more after move in day tradesmen were very much a regular part of our lives. The house might have been finished enough for us to live in, but there was a lot left to do. 

We had carpenters on site building our garage and installing our deck; we had the tilers and the pool guy (technical tradie name) working on our big spa/small pool; we had a whole flock of joiners finishing our kitchen and our wardrobe. Some days there were electricians and tilers and landscapers and painters. And there were stonemasons, who brought their own gas stove and coffee percolator. 

I didn't think too much about what that would mean for the dogs, apart from some vague notion of staying home to make sure they didn't run away. But after one day of trying to get my own stuff done whilst juggling all the tradies and two very curious and loud and possibly likely to escape dachshunds I realised I needed a better plan. 

So if you're about to start a building project and you're dealing with dogs, here's some things to think about:

Find a good doggy day care. Day one I tried to have the dogs at home. By 11am I was googling doggy day care. If you have a lot of tradespeople going in and out of your house it's worth thinking about putting your dog in day care, or finding someone to watch them. With all the comings and goings gates and doors will be left open, even with the best of intentions. It's not worth the stress or the risk. 

Doggy day care also saved my eardrums. Our dogs are quite annoying protective and so feel it's their duty to bark, loudly, every time someone comes in the front door, or back door, or moves more than a metre in any direction. Taking them out of the equation when the tradies were in the house made for a much more peaceful day all round. 

Dogs and power tools don't mix. And neither do dogs and paint cans, or dogs and excavators, or dogs and giant pits in the backyard. Whilst a building site might be a fine environment for a smart working dog who is used to all the mess and noise and sharp edges (my dad was a builder and always had his dog on site), it's definitely not a suitable environment for two dachshunds who think they need to play with and / or attack everything, including power saws. 

Tradies like to eat. So do dogs. At the end of a long day at day care Elfi loved coming back home and having a good sniff about, and cleaning up whatever food scraps she could find. Which might have been fun for her, but I'm pretty sure cheezel crumbs, yogurt tubs and banana skins aren't part of a healthy dog diet.

Once she found the remains of a kebab, in amongst all the builders rubble. (I only realised because things had been very, very quiet for awhile which always means the dogs are either dead or up to no good.) After that I made very sure to check the site over for any food scraps before they came home. (It's worth checking the site over at the end of each day for anything else not dog-friendly too, like paint and chemicals, or dog-sized crevices.)

A few months later we had some painters on site. Two guys who are lovely and who I trust to never leave a door or gate open, so the dogs were home too. The painters had brought their lunch with them, a sandwich of some sort, which Elfi dutifully sought out and ate. Luckily they were quite taken by our hounds and laughed it off, but it was all rather embarrassing. I made sure they had a safe spot up high to store their lunch after that.

Dogs get stressed too. Renovations are stressful. Aside from the logistics of it all there's the emotional part too - you constantly have people in your house, in your space. Your happy calm place, your retreat from the world, is not that at all during a renovation. And your dogs will feel that too. 

Although doggy day care was the best and safest option for us, Elfi (the neurotic one) found it incredibly stressful going there each day. And on the days I kept her at home she found the constant invasions by strangers incredibly stressful too. She actually began to show physical signs of distress - her coat wasn't so shiny, she had a temperature and an upset stomach. Poor thing. Luckily the vet had some good advice on diet and other things we could tweak to help her through. 

If you've got a dog that's bit nervy keep an extra eye on them. Do whatever you can to make them feel loved, and to give them a stable environment, and get them to the vet if they're feeling under the weather.

Have you renovated with pets in the house? How did you manage?

Death by Doxie : Extra Curricular

And this is why you won't see too many flat lays around these parts - the dogs think that if it's on the floor, it's theirs. 

These photos are from a month or so ago, when the lovely folks at Extra Curricular magazine sent me a few copies of their super cute and gorgeously put together magazine (payment in kind for an interview I did with Helena Leslie for their Messy issue). I'd just bought some gorgeous banksias, so I thought - mags + flowers + concrete floor = perfect Instagram shot, yes? Well, maybe, in a Ferdi and Elfi free house. 

As soon as the magazines were on the ground Elfi came and sat on them, and showed no intention of moving. Then Ferdi decided to see if the banksias were tasty (they weren't). The dogs were saying - loud and clear - If you're going to give your attention to something close to the ground, it should be us. Elfi even blew me a raspberry...

Death by Doxie : Porch Watch

Outside of eating, the hounds most favourite thing in the world is to sit on the front porch and watch the world go by*. Preferably in the sunshine. And don't they look just adorable doing it? 

No really, it's been a pretty rotten week for the world so please - take a moment to just soak in Ferdi's paws, the way he tucks them in under his chest. And look at those folds in Elfi's little legs. Now breath. Ahhhhh. I've said it before and no doubt I'll say it again - hounds make everything better.

*Where 'watch the world go by' means barking your lungs out and spraying spittle all over the steps every five minutes because the nice neighbourly old lady or woman with pram and (previously) sleeping kid or - god forbid - the postman dared to pass within sniffing distance.

Death by Doxie : Ferdi's Birthday

It was Ferdi's birthday last month. He turned eight, which is younger than I thought he was so yay! We are may be crazy dog people but we don't go over the top for the dogs birthdays. There's no cake or party or singing. They do normally get a treat - a raw egg, some roast chook, a bit of bacon - but, let's be honest, they get treats most days... 

I do of course take the opportunity to dig out the party hats though. How could I not when Ferdi so clearly loves them? 

(And yes, that is Ferdi's snout in Elfi's mouth in the bottom shot. Fun times.)

Death by Doxie : Dogs On FloBro*

Our hounds are, of course, hounds of taste and distinction. As such they know good textile design when they see it, so this bench seat - featuring Florence Broadhurst's Japanese Bamboo print - has fast become one of their favourite spots in the house. At least I'm pretty sure it's because of their eye for design. And not because it gets the afternoon sun whilst giving them a perfect view of all kitchen related comings and goings...

Quick sequence of events below: 1. Treats!!! 2. Treats? 3. No treats...

*I wish a could lay claim to the genius that is FloBro, but alas - I pinched it from Steph Bond on Instagram!

Death by Doxie : A Ferdi Pillow

When the world keeps throwing up inconceivably horrible things that you struggle to make sense of, sometimes the best thing to do is just sit and watch your dogs sleeping. Seriously - is this not heartbreakingly cute? One dog is good, two dogs who are best of friends is better. 

Thank you Ferdi and Elfi, for being as adorable as you are. Sometimes, you keep me sane.

Death by Doxie : Elfi Loves Laundry

The dogs have had a longstanding love affair with laundry, clean and dirty. When Ferdi was a pup I'd often find him nesting in the laundry basket, and Elfi's favourite days of the week are bed stripping days - when we throw all the sheets and pillow cases and doona covers into a big pile and she clambers on top like a mountain goat. Even better if there's a patch of sun around. Sometimes she looks so content I delay the washing by and hour or so. 

It's fine when it's all going in the wash anyway, but when the hounds decide to cover a freshly laundered, freshly folded pile of washing in dog hair, as happened the other day, well...that's not so fine. But it's my own fault really, leaving the clothes on the floor for all of five minutes as I did. Rookie mistake. 

(But look at those Elfi eyes! How could you be angry? Clearly I wasn't as the first thing I did when I saw her was run and grab my camera. Pretty sure that's not in Dog Training 101.)

Death by Doxie : Hello! Welcome!

One of the bestest of best things about having a dog is the way they enjoy your company so very much. A dog thinks you're the bee's knees, the ant's pants, the grasshopper's pyjamas. (I made that last one up, could you tell?) 

They miss you when you're gone, whether you're gone half an hour or half a day. And when you get home they like to tell you how very much they've missed you. And - if they're like Elfi - they like to do it loudly. Very loudly.

Above is Elfi giving me the stink eye because I'm faffing about with my camera when I should be opening the door and lavishing her with pats. Below is Elfi singing me her song of welcome, her "hello!" song. Loudly. And Ferdi looking adorable and happy, and slightly confused (as he so often does). 

Death by Doxie* : Henry Piglet and Hugo

As amazing as our grand European adventure was, it had a downside - we couldn't take the dogs. And we missed them, of course we missed them. (Have you seen how adorable and handsome they are? How could we not miss them?) 

Luckily, around the mid-point of our trip, we had a pit stop in the south of France which gave us a bit of a dachshund hit. We had four days staying in the village of Seillans, with one of my (many) sisters-in-law, her friends from the UK and their two dogs.

The humans were fabulous and lovely and so much fun. But really...it was all about their two gorgeous dachshunds - Hugo (black) and Henry Piglet (tan). (Fantastic names, yes?). Hounds of taste and distinction, they knew how to holiday. Here they are lounging poolside at the villa...

*It has recently come to my attention that the term 'doxie' is also a slang term for, ahem, a lady of the night. This changes the meaning of the post title, somewhat. But - I love alliteration so I'm sticking with it. Apologies for any offence I may have caused. And apologies to anyone who came to my blog expecting something slightly different...

Death by Doxie : Hounds On a Rug

With the renovations dragging on a bit, the dogs are now back in boarding (they're staying here, it is a bit pricey but worth every happy hound penny!). Sob. But we have just had a wonderful month and a bit with them. We took them to Diamond Beach, and then had three lovely weeks in a really beautiful part of Sydney.

After so long apart it was so great to hang out with them every day, and it was a relief to realise they are the same happy, healthy handsome hounds they've always been. It's a bit sad to have to say goodbye again, but it'll only be a few weeks until we're reunited…(and I've got loads of doggy photos to share with you in the meantime)!

Death by Doxie : We Still Miss Our Hounds

My husband and I often have a discussion which goes a little something like this:

Him - "Is there anything you'd change about Ferdi?" 

Me - "Well…his legs are a little bowed and his teeth are a little bucked and, let's be honest, he's not the smartest dog in the world. But, I guess those things are what make him endearing so…no?" 

Him  - "Which makes him the most perfect hound in the world" 

Me - "Ummmm…." 

Him - "You said there's nothing you'd change about him, right? So therefore he must be a perfect dog, the perfect dog." 

Me - "Okay…" 

I've learnt not to argue the point, as we just end up going around in circles. For hours. It's best to just admit that yes, Ferdi is a perfect hound. Looking at these photos, from our last night in Seoul, I'm kind of thinking the husband might just be right. 

(Do I need to point out those paws?)

Death by Doxie : We Miss Our Hounds

The evening before the dogs flew to Australia was a gorgeous one. The heat had finally gone out of the Seoul Summer, so it was warm but not unbearable, with just a hint of a breeze. Ferdi, Elfi and I spent a good hour or so sitting on the balcony, watching the sunset and sniffing the air. And I took a lot of photos. 

Now the dogs are in quarantine, apparently doing well. We miss them a lot. I miss them most when the husband is away (like he has been most of this month). I still kind of think I'm going to see their happy faces whenever I open the door to our serviced apartment. I still unconsciously save food scraps for them. I miss the comfort they give me, when I'm lying in bed alone. Those of you that have a dog in your family know what I'm talking about - there's a constant companionship you get from them, a warmth. And many times a day I'm noticing that absence.

On Saturday I have to pick the dogs up from quarantine, which is exciting. But then I have to drive for an hour or so to drop them at the boarding kennel where they're going to spend the next six weeks. Which will break my heart a little. I am not looking forward to it! But I am looking forward to sharing more of the balcony photo shoot with you (there are some especially cute ones of Ferdi still to come!). And I know the next few weeks will fly by, and mid-November will be here before we know it...

Death by Doxie : A Dog's Journey

One of the things about the move I was dreading the most was shipping the dogs off. I imagined handing them over to a stranger, seeing their distress, Elfi screaming, me crying. But as it turned out it wasn't so bad. 

I paid a specialist to look after all the paperwork and transportation (Sohee from Chung Wha Animal Hospital in Itaewon) and she was professional and caring and lovely. She organised all the tests required, sorted out the freight costs and booked them into quarantine (she even made sure they were in a pen together). On the day of their flight she picked them up early, leaving them on their leads rather than in their crates, to reduce their stress a bit. She even bought along her own (very well trained) dog which meant Ferdi and Elfi were so focussed on meeting another dog they barely noticed us saying goodbye. So, whilst I still shed a tear or two, it wasn't nearly as traumatic as I thought it would be.

It was a bit expensive (actually, the whole Australian quarantine process is expensive!) but having a third party handle everything was worth every penny - both for peace of mind and for taking some of the emotional heat out of the situation. 

A few other things that helped - a week or so before their flight I got their crates ready and clean and set them up in the lounge room, just so they could get used to them. I also put a toy and some old clothes in there (that's my old pyjama pants you can see next to Ferdi, featuring a dachshund print of course!). And when I gave them treats I'd throw them into the crate. Elfi would run in, grab the treat and run straight back out again, nervous critter that she is. But Ferdi quite likes to have his own little house, so he hung out in his crate a bit. Though he looked sad, as always. 

Anyway, the dogs are now safely in quarantine. I've been told from numerous sources that the level of care there is phenomenal, so that's reassuring. We'll see them soon enough, but in the meantime we do miss them quite a lot...

Death by Doxie : Elfi On The Bed (Part II)

Apparently it's exhausting being so damn adorable. (And apparently 18 hours sleep a day isn't quite enough...)