Earthquakes and Hurricanes, Oh My!

"Seriously, Mom.
You're acting a little clingy."

Hello, hello, hello. Is this thing on? It's been a while. I know. Life in Banjo and Millie world has been a little unusual lately. I quit my job. I know, I've been told in the past that I shouldn't quit my day job, but that's exactly what I did. You would think that it would open up lots of free time to focus on blogging, but in reality I've found myself a little lost with what to do next. So please forgive my blogging irregularity as I figure out my next move. And though I haven't been blogging, Banjo and Millie and I have been up to lots of good / interesting stuff that we can't wait to share with you all!

Millie the morning of the earthquake.
It makes me wonder if she knew what was coming...

For starters, Banjo and Millie and I just experienced our very first earthquake! I'm sure you all are very familiar with the one that occurred last week in Virginia. Well, that earthquake's epicenter was about 40 miles from our house, so we definitely felt the Earth move. Banjo was at work, but Millie and I were laying on the couch watching television (Jobless, remember. Don't judge.) when all of the sudden the house began to shake and things began to crash all around us. As it turns out, I'm not the one you want in case of emergencies, because I totally freaked out, grabbed Millie and crouched down in a door way. She looked at me as if I'd lost my mind, but to be fair, I have no idea what you're supposed to do in case of an earthquake. I'm a life-long East coaster! So Millie handled it beautifully. Me, not so much.

A house down the street from us.

Then, I'm sure you are all aware of Hurricane Irene as well. Well, yep, she came right at us just a few days after the quake and ripped down trees and power lines all over Virginia. So we are now on Day 5 with no power. I have a few choice words for Irene, but I will refrain. So for the second natural disaster of the week, Millie once again kept her cool, and I totally panicked as wind and rain pelted the house and trees began crashing all around. Banjo was a little worked up thanks to my storm anxiety, but all in all, he remained much better composed than I. We were lucky - a tree fell in our yard and only took out our fence - but a lot of Richmonders were not nearly as lucky. Neighbors all around us lost their cars and several houses were made into duplexes thanks to the beautiful old trees in our neighborhood. It's a sight. Hopefully we've had our share of natural disasters for now. Fingers crossed!

Navigating our neighborhood was nearly
impossible for a few days before trees were
cleared from the road.

Another impassable road.

Thank you, Samantha.

Back in February, I introduced you all to Kelso, the Shih Tzu that started it all. She was my first Shih Tzu, with us for 18 years (!), watching me grow up. When Kelso was six (and I was 14), she had a litter of puppies – four sweet baby Shih Tzu’s, two of which we would keep: Spike and Samantha. Spike is still with us (he is 15 now), and lives with my parents, but four years ago tomorrow, we lost our sweet Sammy girl to congestive heart failure.

In honor of Sammy’s life, I’d like to share with you all just a little bit about this sweet girl who has meant so much to me.

Samantha was the gentlest, kindest dog we’d ever had. She was a friend to absolutely everybody she met, hopping up in a lap whenever the opportunity presented itself. But don’t be fooled – Sammy had a mischievous side too. You may have heard me call Millie the Stealth Bomber. This originated as Sammy’s alter ego. In her 11 years, she never saw the value of pottying outside when a perfectly good carpet inside would do the trick.

Sammy chasing her brother down!

Her best friend was her brother Spike, and she taunted him mercilessly, as siblings do. She didn’t care much about toys, but Spike did, so she would steal them from him just because it would irritate him. And if he had a toy that she wanted to steal from him, she used the tried and true “bite him in the ass until he drops it” maneuver. Poor Spike.

Bad hair day.

Samantha wasn’t graceful or beautiful (if you’d ask the AKC, that is). She was always disheveled like she’d been out all night on a binger.  She had various health problems (seizures, a heart murmur, a slipped disc and the resulting paralysis that the wonderful vets at Virginia Tech miraculously fixed). But she was, of course, a beautiful, perfect girl in our eyes.

When she wasn’t even a year old, Sammy had puppies (Word to the wise, spay your pets at 6 months. We thought she was too young to get pregnant – boy were we wrong). My parents were out of town when she went into labor, so my 16-year-old older sister and I helped to deliver the puppies. I can still remember sitting on the laundry room tile when Sammy jumped into my lap, let out a huge yelp, and out came a pup. Right in my lap. It was gross and amazing all at once.

I considered her my guardian angel. She was with me at a time in my life where I needed a friend, and she never failed. (Show me one dog that would. I’m betting you can’t.) I am forever grateful to her.

Four years later, I still think about Sammy often. I suspect I always will. The joy and laughter she brought into our lives is immeasurable. Thank you, Samantha.

Love always,

Layne, Kelley, Mom & Dad

My freshman year of college at orientation, we were supposed to bring a photo to share with our new classmates.
This is the one I brought.

A classic Sam-Spike face-off.

Sammy with my sister (L) and me (R).

Sammy with my Mom & Dad.

My beautiful girl.

After Sammy passed, my Mom made a keepsake box for me that I keep right on my desk. That's her collar on the front.

My guardian angel.

A Mother's Prayers...

For Mother's Day, I have a real treat for you all. I have written a guest post for RichmondPetLovers.com (that's not the treat, but by all means, hop on over to take a gander), so I have a guest blogger here for you all! Below is a story my Dad wrote about Millie's mother, Delaney. I hope you enjoy! Happy Mother's Day!

She is in tune to every signal. The slightest eye contact causes her tail to wiggle with harmonious, joyous approval in short, quick little strokes. Whenever you make eye contact you can almost hear a little "tinkle-tinkle-tinkle" sound. She had been a slender fast-moving little canine. But there she was at the end of her pregnancy, the steps she had effortlessly navigated two months earlier might as well have been the Berlin Wall, and she had resorted to using her tail to summon assistance--kind of like help I've fallen and I can't get up--rather than to telegraph the essential message of Pippa Passes.

Weeks earlier, ultrasound showed that she would give birth to five puppies and now the anticipation of the miracle of birth and motherhood quickened. Her shallow, labored breathing betrayed every mother's burden. A little brown and white female puppy came first. Before she could finish cleaning the new arrival, there was a second, a brown and white male, and then a third, a brown male. But this little brown male would not breathe. My wife held his tiny little form in her hand, placed her lips against his and breathed the breath of life. Then there was a fourth, a tiny little brown female runt. 20 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour and finally two hours passed and no fifth puppy. The new little mother strained and strained to no avail. So off we rushed at one o'clock in the morning to the veterinary emergency room, whelping box, newborns, and hard laboring new mother in tow.

The young female veterinarian placed the stethoscope next to the new mother's heart and then next to her belly. She did not need to speak, her countenance spoke for her. "I'm sorry, I do not hear the puppy's heartbeat. We need to induce harder contractions. Let me do a quick x-ray." She returned. "The puppy is upside down in the birth canal and likely has not survived. We will have to remove it somehow." A joyous moment had faded. My wife silently prayed for a miracle. She had already breathed the breath of life into one puppy. Why not expect another one? An air of confidence retuned to the room. The door opened and the once somber veterinarian joyously proclaimed: "We have a fifth puppy." The prayers of two mothers were answered; the circle was complete; Mildred Lazarus Runyon (a.k.a. "Millie") cam forth and an exhausted mother's tail wagged, exclaiming: "I just gave birth to five puppies and I will be able to bound up and down the stairs without dragging my belly! Life is good! By the way, does anybody here know a good babysitter?"

It all started with Kelso.

Of course you read about Banjo and Millie each time you visit, but there’s a special dog that you haven’t heard about who really started my life-long love affair with dogs, and today marks my third year without her. Her name was Kelso. My sister and I had just lost our bunny rabbit, and my parents thought a puppy would be good for us. They found an ad in the newspaper for some puppies and brought Kelso home to us just in time for Thanksgiving of 1990. Kelso was a fixture in my life from the time I was just a little girl, and lived to be 17 years old. I was 26 when she passed away. She literally watched me grow up. That’s the unique bond I shared with this dog that cannot be replaced, one that will stay with me my entire life. I want to share with you all some memories my family shared with me to remember her publicly today. I hope you enjoy these stories of our special little dog, all 14 pounds of our feisty and loving shih tzu, Kelso.


From my Dad:

We were awakened from a deep sleep around 1:00a.m. on Sunday by her constant, purposeful barking. At the time she was less than a year old, and it was a bark we had never heard before. Kelso had already developed another purposeful bark, intended to convey her displeasure with the quality and speed of the food service, a skill she was able to hone over the next 17 years of her reign. And obviously she was in the kitchen, but where else would you expect her in the wee hours of the morning. The refrigerator door just might accidentally open and a bonanza fall out.  But this bark, though equally purposeful, was clearly distinguishable from a demand or complaint, it was a call to arms. Someone had entered the kitchen through the kitchen window, and she was damn sure no one had ever entered through the kitchen window to feed her.  Of course, the intruder could have entered unheralded, had he but entered the kitchen door carrying a pork chop. But I digress. I loaded my 357 and heeded the call. As I narrowed the gap, the barking suddenly stopped and Kelso and I crossed paths in the foyer. She stopped, cocked her head to one side, which for those of you who are unfamiliar with the shih tzu breed, is somewhat akin to the royal wave, and conveyed the following message: there is a man hiding in the kitchen; he came through the window; he did not have a pork chop; what you do with him from this point on is your own business; I am going to bed; please wake me for breakfast.

From my sister:

Kelso was my best friend from the moment she came home to live with us- that day I was 10 years old, and tiny little Kelso climbed up my baggy pants leg and I was smitten.  I remember dressing her up in our cabbage patch kid fur coats (why does a dog need a second fur coat?) and she just went along with it.  I remember sitting on the floor in front of the TV with her as a child with a bag of chocolate chips- I didn't know of course dogs shouldn't eat chocolate- and she didn't either- we would sit there two peas in a pod- I'd eat one, she'd eat one... Lord only knows why she didn't ever get sick. I also remember as a child sharing my ice cream on a cone with her. We were best friends!

And as we grew up, even when she was pretty old, if I would cry or hurt myself, she would run to my side, lick me and cry too. I even remember fighting with Layne in high school, and Kelso would sit there and bark at us as if to say- "Stop fighting! Let's play!"

Kelso is the dog that spoiled all other dogs for me. She is the reason I love shih tzus so much today, and I miss her so much every day it hurts. 

From my Mom:

In the last year or two of her life, when we sat down to eat, we had to lock her out of the kitchen because of her barking for food. And I remember, one time, accidentally sucking her tail up in the vacuum cleaner.  She avoided me for days, and the vacuum for the rest of her life. Kelso was our first shih tzu, but not our last:  She had 4 puppies (we kept two - Spike and Samantha), Samantha had 5 more.  Then Delaney had 5. Add it up: 15 shih tzus.  Do you think we like the breed?  All because of Kelso.  Check out the names, too: Kelso for Kelley, Samantha for Sam, Delaney for Layne and Penny for Penny. One whacked-out family.

Kelso on the day she came home to us. I was 8!

Sweet Kelso

Kelso with her daughter Sammy at the top, and with me when she was 17!

Oh, to be a puppy.

Millie has taken a liking to leaves. I try to imagine what goes through her head each time she sees one on the ground. I believe it goes something like this:

"Oh, a leaf! I've never seen one of these before!!!" [Walk three steps.... See another leaf...] "Oh, a leaf! Wow! These are rare!" [Wander two more steps... See another leaf...] "Oh my, a leaf! I can't believe I've seen three in one day. Lucky me!" You get the picture.

Millie finds them fascinating, and I envy her ability to see such wonder in something we hardly even notice. Oh, to be a puppy when everything you see has the potential to be the absolute coolest thing you've ever seen in your entire life. I can't wait to see her reaction once autumn arrives. It might just be a little too much for her to fathom.

Small Victories

Today, for the very first time, Millie pooped when I came home on my lunch break! Normally, she has already pooped in her playpen by the time I make it home, making it hard to teach her to potty outside. Under normal circumstances when I have all the time in the world to be outside with her and wait for her to potty, she takes about 15 minutes to sniff it out and decide to finally go. But today, when I got home and took her outside, she went running out to the yard, turned a couple of circles, and got right down to business.

I realize to most people this is highly uninteresting information, but when you have a puppy, it's the small victories that matter.

Snack Time Favorites, courtesy of Millie.

Today's lesson courtesy of Millie:

When left in your play pen for the day, newspaper makes a fun and tasty snack. Especially if you pee on it first. Simply ignore all of those toys Mom left for you that she intended you to chew on. Then, when she leaves for the day, begin shredding the paper to make it easier to digest. Yum, enjoy!

Potty Break Avoidance, courtesy of Millie.

Today's lesson courtesy of Millie:

Pee in your play pen right before Mom comes home (just listen for the car doors slamming and the key in the door). That way, when she comes in the door, you don't have to waste your time with that whole no-fun potty break outside and you can get straight to playing fetch.


** This tends to upset Mom, so make sure you show off your puppy eyes and give tons of kisses when she finally picks you up. 

Millie Leads the Charge

Our little Millie has really come into her own. When she was born, she was a quiet, reserved little girl. She was barely born in the first place. Upside down with no heartbeat in the birth canal, the vet told us she would be still born. But when the vet returned, she told us she didn't know how it was possible, but here was the fifth and final puppy, our little Millie, very much alive.

Since she has grown large enough, her Mama, Miss Delaney has begun to toughen her up, always picking her out of the litter to pick on and fight back. It was confidence boot camp. Before, Millie would sit back quietly and observe the rest of the crew while they played and barked. But Delaney decided that she needed to be a little tougher, and now after weeks of her Mom's influence, Millie is the loudest, feistiest puppy in the bunch. I guess when you have stared death in the face and get a second chance, you don't take it for granted. Millie barely made it into the world, and now makes every moment a party. She barks, she chews, she poops and pees. She lives in the moment.

Like yesterday, we were staying with our parents where Millie's mom Delaney and sister Penny live. While running around outside in the front yard, Millie and Penny run off up the driveway with my husband in hot pursuit. Right up the driveway a bit is a wrought iron gate that they proceeded to bound straight through. That's when I hear "oh no!!!" and arrive just in time to see my husband pulling a soaking wet Penny out of the front fountain. But not until after he pulled the ring leader, Millie, out first. What I wouldn't give to have witnessed her carefree leap right into water up to her ears.

I've never met a shih tzu that likes water. Millie just loves life. Including water.

Little Miss Pee Pee Pants

How does so much pee come from a 4 pound dog? And how does she always inevitably pee on our brand new carpet right after I've taken her on a walk where she refuses to pee?

Puppies are Hard

When training a puppy, you are not supposed to acknowledge behavior that you don’t like, and you reward the behavior you do like. What I’d like to know then is how do I take Millie out to pee when she is barking in her crate? If she is barking, I’m supposed to ignore her (i.e. and the behavior I dislike). But if she has to pee and I ignore her, then she pees in her crate. And to me that is a no-win situation. Puppies are hard.