Hattie's 5th birthday and the debate over size of dog

Hattie is five years old today. It's hard to believe that five years ago this time we were finishing the remodel on the house and she was getting ready to survive Hurricane Katrina in Mississippi. A lot has happened in those five years as Ginger came to live with us for a short time (before flying to Chicago to be with Mom) just a few months later and then my dad died. I finished my doctorate and the list goes on. I'm not sure where Hattie is at the moment. I thought she was under the table where I'm working but I looked down and Gidget is to my left and Nestle is behind me. She's probably snoozing somewhere on a bed. She'll get one of her favorite dentastiks later and everyone else will get a rollhide bone. I was thinking about what might be interesting to blog about on Hattie's birthday and it occurred to me that there is one piece of information that was gleaned from my dissertation that relates to Hattie's size. She is our smallest dog– even at 36 pounds! She came to us at 6 pounds and just a few weeks old. Nestle is probably still the largest, hovering somewhere around 80 pounds although Gidget is almost a year old so we're not quite sure how big she'll get. For some reason, I've always thought bigger dogs worked for me although Joe told me that he wasn't sure if he would like having "such a small dog" as Hattie but he really began to appreciate her size since she can actually be a lap dog. The others would like to be lap dogs (I just typed "laptops"– the words that fall out of our fingers when we type...) but it's dangerous when Nestle lays on you and after a while you realize you can't breathe. When we were writing my dissertation survey, which reflected on if, how, and why people use dogs to help cope with human loss (by death), my chair, Dr. Virginia Shipman, suggested we ask a question about size to see if people prefer one size of dog over another. I had read in another study where they suggested studying fur length to see if one length was more helpful to people than another. When the 100-plus surveys had been analyzed, it showed that fur length didn't matter. Nor did the size of the dog. The reality is that we are unique people and we all like something different. I actually had asked Joe to bring me back a Golden Retriever from Mississipp but he found Hattie in a county shelter and picked her because she looked like a miniature Chaco. And here we are five years later.

Ginger and Daisy waiting at the front door

Summer Photos

The Ginger Update

I spent last week in Chicago- my mom is getting ready to move next month after spending almost 40 years in the house where we all grew up. It's hard to believe it's just her (and Ginger and Daisy!) there. In 1974, when we moved in, there were three kids (to become four the next year) plus assorted gerbils and Chaos, the family German Shepherd, over the next 30 years (wow, that makes me sound old!). But starting in the early '80s Brian and Karen set out on their own at various times, then I left for college in 1990, Denise died in 1993, I moved to New Mexico in 1994, and Chaos died on new year's day in 1995. Dad would follow, dying on new year's day 2006. When Mom said "going upstairs in a special occasion" I really knew it was time for her to move. She only will be moving less than a mile away, to the house Joe and I own, and we'll be selling the family home (anyone need a house?). This trip marked the start of the sorting, trashing, donating, recycling, packing, and moving that will commence in September. The house is smaller and split level which will make it easier for her (and the dogs) since it will be fewer stairs at one time. The yard is fenced except for needing some gates on either side of the house, something Mom doesn't have at the current house. Lots of pluses for her. I can't say that Ginger has changed much in the almost four years she has lived with Mom. Hattie will be five next week on the 16th which means the remodel of our house and Hurricane Katrina happened five years ago. The addition of Ginger followed not long after in November of 2005. What I will say about Ginger is that she loves her mom! She and Mom really are a pair. Daisy provides something else though. She has to be leashed when she goes out because she will not come back, probably because she was crated most of her life and wants to make up for time by exploring when she can. Ginger will come right back when called (at least for me– Mom will say that's not so true for her). Still, the three of them are getting ready for their new adventure in a few weeks. The living room furniture, what Daisy rubbed up against and where Ginger slept at night– was donated on Sunday and the dogs looked confused. Little do they know the excitement ahead for all three of them.