Holding Still

naming the girl

I know I've lost many readers due to my long absences (oh, the so many readers that I had...), but I thought I would open up the naming of our new dog to you guys. 

Here is her story:  Her given name is Castanha de Viamonte (pronounced Castan-ya).  She is a Portuguese Podengo like our beloved Chauncey, who at times is the only being who gives meaning to my life.  I'm serious.  Yeah, I know, it can be a problem.  But I tarry.  Back to Cassie.

She lived in Massachusetts with her owner, a 50-something year old woman.  Sadly, this woman had health problems and died in November, right before Thanksgiving.  That's when we met her.  We were in CT, visiting my family as we do every year.  And as we do every year, we called Chauncey's breeders, now our friends, who live in the town next to my parents.  

"I can't believe you called!  K went to Boston to pick up a little podengo who just lost her owner.  K says she looks like Chauncey!  You have to come and meet her, he'll be home any minute."

We went to visit, decidedly not in for taking in another dog.  She was shell-shocked.  She had been alone for two days before her owner was found, and then for some reason was taken to a dog shelter.  The owner's sister called the breeder to tell her where the dog was -- the sister took another dog that had lived with Cassie and her owner.  K drove up ASAP to the shelter to get the little girl.  She had been there for about 5 days.  Poor little thing.  She shivered and shook, but didn't mind sitting on people's laps.  She stared in terror at all the barking podengos and the motley crew of humans.

We left, homeward-bound.  Then the emails started coming.  From the breeder.  "Chauncey has done so well with you, we think Cassie would be perfect for your family..."  

The real clincher was when we found out that our friend/ Chauncey's breeder had some wonky tests come back regarding her cancer.  And her father died.  We agreed to take Cassie off her hands.

Could Cassie's name be bearing bad news?  Think of Cassandra, truth-teller -- Beware of Greeks bearing gifts!  We know that her original name is Castanha, not Cassandra, but still. We can't help but wonder.

So far we're working with sound-alike names:  Sassy, Taxi!, Casey, and Al's favorite, Hassle.  She follows me pretty much everywhere, so Shadow is a good possibility.  Any ideas are welcome -- Have at it!

 

Poor Chauncey...

Work has been tiring me out the last couple of days. I won't get into details, but we're hanging an exhibition, and between going up and down ladders, and the usual "museum sickness" or "museum legs" one can experience when spending inordinate amounts of time IN a museum's galleries, I have been too tuckered to write.

So I'm getting my butt off the couch/bed/floor and putting it into the computer chair.

First bit of news: Chauncey has injured himself. Again. I haven't written too much about C-dog, but I should tell you that neither me nor Beckmann has ever had a dog with more physical and emotional "issues." We're crazy about him, but really! Last evening Beckmann and Chauncey went out to the fields to bring his girlfriend back to her own house. (C-dog's girl is a tiny, aggressive Jack Russell who lives next door. She is the love of his life). Sometimes he comes back without any trouble, but often he catches the scent of a deer or a rabbit, and will run like the wind and not come back for several minutes. This is what happened last night, and after about 25 minutes he returned. Limping. His back right leg lifted pathetically, needing to be lifted himself, into bed, barely lifting his head to respond to us.

If this were any other dog, I would worry. But it's Chauncey. I used to worry about his many mishaps, heatstrokes, unexplained under-the-bed forays for hours at a time, anxiety after having rolled in pheasant poop. He can look more pathetic than any other dog you have seen. Ears down, amber gaze rolling pathetically away from us, limp body.

So very sad. And then the phone rings. It's his girlfriend's owner. He can hear his voice. Ears up! Jump into the air! Race around the house like it's Christmas -- AGAIN!!! OMG, OMG, OMG!!! Is it her? Will I get to see HER?

And it's as if nothing ever happened. Beckmann did NOT take him over to see her today,(her name is Sammy, btw), because he knew that C-dog would reinjure himself. But we have evidence that his injury seems to have improved. He mostly only limps when he just gets up from a nap, or when he forgets and jumps up to take off Beckmann's hat (from his head. And Beckmann is 6' tall), and lands on his arse.

After his last depressive episode we took him to the vet who checked all of his vitals, his blood, his joints, his whole little doggie self. "I don't think there is anything PHYSICALLY wrong with him. I think it's anxiety." Said with a look of bewilderment.

And the story of C-dog continues. So please don't worry, he'll be ok. You hear that Chaunce? You're gonna be okay!

*All of my pix of Chauncey jumping need to be rotated. I will get to that soon. It is something to behold.

Happy 2007!