Something to do with Murphy

Tall grass has always been Murphy's favorite.



The endless fun and boundless optimism of a dog is so refreshing.

Nothing to do with Murphy.

This has nothing to do with Murphy. This is a dead cow on the side of a dirt road in Nevada. The little calf was nursing off his dead mother. Gross. When we came upon this scene, Jeff had the idea that this was just how cow's nursed. He didn't understand that the cow was dead.

Back and Black

Murphy's better than ever. Still a puppy, still really cute, still really busy.


It's summer, though, and Murphy is very temperature sensitive. This hot weather is hard on him -- he's hot.

So when we take him biking, or hiking, or anything -- we always look for water for him to swim in. If there's no water, we use water bottles (or hydro packs) to get him wet.

Then he rolls in the dirt.

Snip and Chip

Murphy's in the hospital right now getting his testicles removed and a chip implanted under his skin. How intrusive. The indignity.

Ever since picking him up out of that parking lot I've known he would be neutered one day. It's the right thing to do. It's the only way to go. I did not expect how difficult it would be for me.

I worry that the entire experience of being in the hospital (the sedation, the scary lights, the bad smells) will traumatize him. I wanted to cry when we brought him to the vet and he was so happy and curious. He went behind the counter to see the vet tech, wagging his tale, sniffing her, wanting to see what she was doing. He happily trotted off with her into the back room. I just thought, "Oh god, Murphy. I'm so sorry."

Then I also worry that the removal of his testicles and the accompanying testosterone will traumatize him. Will he feel different? Will he miss his testosterone? Will other dogs beat up on him now that he doesn't have it? Worse --will it change his personality. I love him just the way he is -- I don't want him changed (except the bit about him digging the yard up all over... and maybe his crazy screaming bark).

Truth be told -- I am a nervous wreck. I had to concentrate on breathing at the vet so I wouldn't have a break down and start ranting (I think they've had enough of that from me). My stomach feels sick. What am I doing to this incredible little dog? Will he be better for it? Will he survive? Will he be traumatized for life? I take comfort from the many people I have asked about their own dogs and the fact that they all made it through, with no loss of personality or love.

Raising up this puppy is teaching me many things. I know that I am overly anxious about everything Murphy related. I check to make sure he's breathing every night (what if he just suffocated in his sleep?). Worrying about his happiness and well-being is just about driving me out of my mind. I really need to relax or I think I'm going to have a breakdown. If this is how I act with a dog -- I cannot imaging a human.

For now -- I'll stick with Murphy. I love him. Even with his crazy screaming bark (which I hope doesn't change).

Snow King

Running Through the Snow

This past winter we got some great snow in the mountains. Murphy was born for snow. Here he realizes that the easiest way to get around is wait for Jeff to punch a trail in -- then run really fast through it.

Randoms

Not every photo has a theme. But they're still good and worth seeing.

Baby in a backpack.

This didn't go so well.

Murphy's Pub.

He looks like he's posing.

At the tender age of 10 weeks.




Murphy and Reno. BFFs.

The Island of Dead Toys

Remember this?


And this?


Oh -- and Giraffe?



Murphy has loved his toys to death.


The ball burst at the seams. The bone exploded. The wubba (red thing with a squeaker) was decapitated.


Giraffe lost his tail.


Seal is missing a flipper. Red guy's head is falling out (and Jeff has sewn him up several times already).


And -- oh dear god -- what has happened to Giraffe's HEAD?


So now they are being sent to the Island of Dead Toys (a.k.a the landfill). I hope the toy gods forgive us!

Saying goodbye is hard to do.


Now Murphy is on to new toys -- like balls, balls, squeaky balls, and his KONG!

Puppy Love

Jenga is that special girl -- quite a looker, sweet as can be, and just a little bit older!

It's puppy love.

They are such an attractive couple.





They love to roll around in the snow.



And bask in the sunlight.



And now Jenga's a movie star!

Out with the Old and In with the New

Murphy's baby teeth are falling out.


I could make a pair of earings from these. But that would be very weird and a little creepy.



They are almost hollow on the other side. Weird! I think it's feaking him out when he finds them. His new teeth are big and scary.



He's looking more like a field dog all the time. He loves chasing after what we toss for him.



And every now and again he remembers to bring it back.


This is a little dark, but shows Murphy at Camp Tamarancho on Marin. One of his favorite places on earth!

MORE SNOW!!

I can't help it. I know this is Murphy's blog.... but I want to show everybody the snow.

His name is Murphy. And he approves of this message.

SNOW! It's coming down fast. And it's not sludge anymore -- it's nice.


Can anybody see that doggy in the window?

STORM WATCH 2008!

Whoo hoo!! It's finally snowing!!

Until about an hour ago it's been just rain, slush, and wind. Then, it started to sleet, then .... SNOW!



Murphy LOVES it.


He's having the time of his life.


It's hard to make him come inside!