<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149</id><updated>2008-04-29T21:14:28.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaos Siberians</title><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>78</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-5340878510426358416</id><published>2008-03-29T21:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T21:30:24.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bath</title><content type='html'>You guys won't believe this. Momma yells at us for getting all muddy and her solution is to spray us with water! Not only that...she then turns a loud machine that sounds like the vacuum monster toward us and blows at us! It's HORRIBLE! We screamed really loud, expecting someone to come save us, but Momma just laughed at us. At least she didn't have a camera out there. We don't look good in wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our sisters, Pixley and Sage, have gone off to their new homes. Pixley lives just a few miles away and has a new big brother, Prince. Pixley learned how to scream like she was upset and now she gets to run all over the house all day long. We knew she was smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sage flew on a big bird to Texas to live with her Grandma Cha'tima and Grandpa Tucker and all of our relatives there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty quiet with those two gone; they were obviously the noisy puppies and we're all angels. So we're working hard to make sure Momma and Daddy don't miss the other girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures of us after our horrible baths today. Aren't we adorable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R-8W1Q1qUyI/AAAAAAAAALs/glaX2XK4sEs/s1600-h/2008.03.29delano1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183386800435647266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R-8W1Q1qUyI/AAAAAAAAALs/glaX2XK4sEs/s400/2008.03.29delano1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Delano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R-8W1g1qUzI/AAAAAAAAAL0/DeyaK8Zfs_g/s1600-h/2008.03.29denver2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183386804730614578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R-8W1g1qUzI/AAAAAAAAAL0/DeyaK8Zfs_g/s400/2008.03.29denver2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Denver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R-8W1g1qU0I/AAAAAAAAAL8/zFlEb92nk30/s1600-h/2008.03.29tipton3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183386804730614594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R-8W1g1qU0I/AAAAAAAAAL8/zFlEb92nk30/s400/2008.03.29tipton3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tipton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R-8W1w1qU1I/AAAAAAAAAME/iT-S91uYTP8/s1600-h/2008.03.29emmy4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183386809025581906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R-8W1w1qU1I/AAAAAAAAAME/iT-S91uYTP8/s400/2008.03.29emmy4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Emmy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2008/03/bath.html' title='The Bath'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=5340878510426358416&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/5340878510426358416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/5340878510426358416'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/5340878510426358416'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-5516299610090789931</id><published>2008-03-01T19:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T19:26:32.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let sleeping dogs lie...</title><content type='html'>I've probably used this blog entry title before, but it bears repeating...at least around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172977686548825762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R8obzF3DxqI/AAAAAAAAALM/KbuBobFKTmo/s400/2008.03.01sleeping.jpg" border="0" /&gt;"Awwww, isn't that adorable?"  I can hear you all thinking it.  And believe me, no one loves the sight of a sleeping puppy more than I do.  Let me tell you how my Saturday started.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;First, the dream.  I was trying to get ready for a dog show (shocker, I know) but I kept tripping over puppies, lots and lots of puppies.  And then they started screaming because I was tripping on them.  What was happening in reality about 4am this morning was that a particular group of puppies was hungry and they were expressing that hunger at the top of their freakin' lungs!  Now, they may be 7 week old puppies...but they've got adult sized volume on 'em.  There is no sleeping through the "I'm HUNGRY NOW" chorus.  Some morning I'll wake up enough to record it for those who think I might be exaggerating.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So at 4am I stumble carefully down the stairs, grab a bag of whatever's at the top of the doggie food drawer in the fridge, go upstairs and dump it in the puppy pen....ahhhhhh blissful silence.  About 2 hours later it started again...I dumped the contents of the next bag in the doggie drawer in the puppy pen and went back to sleep.  Around 7:30....Yep.  Again.  But this time Daddy was awake and did the honors for me.  AND he let me go back to sleep!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was going to be the best puppy mom.  I was going to document every bit of their growth and development in pictures.  Heck, now I know a little more how a new mom feels.  I'm lucky I have time to brush my teeth between feeding the puppies, playing with the puppies, cleaning up after the puppies...and starting it all over again 2 hours later!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wouldn't trade it for the world.  But next time I'll think twice before I leave the puppy pen in my bedroom past 3 weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2008/03/let-sleeping-dogs-lie.html' title='Let sleeping dogs lie...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=5516299610090789931&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/5516299610090789931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/5516299610090789931'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/5516299610090789931'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-790653936756412031</id><published>2008-02-04T22:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T22:34:31.439-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We have names!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Girl 1, Star, Girl 3, Buff Boy, Whitey and Gray boy.....boring names, no question about it.  Now we're the 99'ers. Named for small towns along Hwy 99, the drive from Denali's to Satinka's, Mom &amp;amp; Dad have finally decided to give us names. We're so excited...and pretty certain that we can get away with murder 'cause a) we're cute and b) they won't remember who is who! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163380227554007378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R6gC9c-h2VI/AAAAAAAAAKU/7Tq5lll7IRY/s400/2008.02.02herdingcats.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl #1 is now Madera, or Maddie.  Star (aka Girl#2) is now Manteca, or Teca.  And Girl #3 is now Pixley.  Buff Boy (aka Boy#1) is Delano, or Del.  Whitey (Boy #2) is now Modesto, or Des.  And Gray Boy (Boy #3) is now Tipton. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2008/02/we-have-names.html' title='We have names!!!!!'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=790653936756412031&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/790653936756412031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/790653936756412031'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/790653936756412031'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-3622264917304026754</id><published>2008-02-03T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T21:23:40.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rule of Sevens</title><content type='html'>Yep, there are rules for everything!  By the time a puppy is seven weeks old, a well socialized puppy will have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Walked/played on seven different surfaces - we've already covered tile, carpet, vinyl and fleece...three to go, we're thinking that grass, gravel and concrete will round out the seven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Eat off of seven different types of bowls - well, tonight's first food was out of an aluminum pan...we're going to have to do some work to cover seven surfaces...I wonder if eating the spillage off of vinyl flooring counts...I'm gonna count it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Experience seven different kinds of toys....right, like THAT'S going to be a problem? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Experience seven significantly different sounds - well, they've heard an alarm clock, tonight they got to hear a drill and a vacuum cleaner...I'm sure I can come up with four other sounds...oh, wait, they've heard me snoring!  That's another!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Been in seven different locations.  We're going to have to work on this one.  So far they've only been in my bedroom.  But hey, they're just three weeks old.  We've got time for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Met and played with seven different people.  Well, now that their eyes are open, we should probably start this count over :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  Been exposed to seven challenges - well, this will be fun.  Some of the examples I read include:   climb on a box, climb off a box, go  through a tunnel, climb steps, go down steps, climb over obstacles, play  hide and seek, in and out of a doorway with a step up or down, run around  a fence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Eaten in seven different locations - this one may be tougher.  Do you know how messy puppies are?  My general rule is that they can only eat in easy to clean places. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheesh.  And this is after we did the Day 3 to Day 16 "Super Puppy" exercises!  And some people think this breeding thing is easy.  I've got a word for them...but I don't think I can publish it on Blogger!</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2008/02/rule-of-sevens.html' title='The Rule of Sevens'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=3622264917304026754&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/3622264917304026754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/3622264917304026754'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/3622264917304026754'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-8430722542921901344</id><published>2008-01-31T19:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T19:51:35.799-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Something new every day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R6KWb8-h2TI/AAAAAAAAAKE/vdB1DT-WrKQ/s1600-h/outtahere.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161853529889036594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R6KWb8-h2TI/AAAAAAAAAKE/vdB1DT-WrKQ/s320/outtahere.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the joys of puppies is watching, almost hourly, their development. From finding their feet to being able to navigate the bedroom on the tile floor (under supervision of course, otherwise I'd have to go fish puppies out from under the bed!) to finding their voices (not so thrilled about this one at 3am!) they seem to change on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They've finally figured out that there's a big world outside of their whelping box. How they made the connection, I'm not sure. We take them out of the box to play a couple times a day, but they're always pretty content to hang out in their bar and have the mobile catering unit come by when called. It seems that little bit of nirvana (mine). All too soon it'll be time to set up the downstairs puppy pen and let them explore a little more of the world.  I know it'll be a lot quieter at night when their world encompasses more than just my bedroom!!!</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2008/01/something-new-every-day.html' title='Something new every day'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=8430722542921901344&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/8430722542921901344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/8430722542921901344'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/8430722542921901344'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-4498182733644684034</id><published>2008-01-23T17:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T18:10:00.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today we discovered our feet!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R5fykM-h2SI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/T8795tmK-NQ/s1600-h/2008.01.19puppypile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158858601948895522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R5fykM-h2SI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/T8795tmK-NQ/s320/2008.01.19puppypile.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;Six little toddlers running around the whelping box. That's what's happening in my bedroom these days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just a couple of days ago, Girl #2, aka Star, started opening her eyes. Little, tiny, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;squinty&lt;/span&gt; eyes...but I saw eyeballs! Slowly her brothers and sisters followed and this morning, when I went up to torment...errr...play with the puppies, they all had their eyes open a little bit. Some of them don't seem to be as inclined to open their eyes and face the world as quickly as the others.  Here's Sunday's group picture.  That's Star there on top (see how creative we got with her name?) and that yawning puppy on the right?  That's one of the boys.  Don't ask me which one, can't you see how similar they all look?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And watching them try to walk is SO adorable. They'd get up on their feet, so darn proud...but a yawn or a too-fast turn of the head would send them tumbling like defective &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Weebles&lt;/span&gt;. (If you don't know what a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Weeble&lt;/span&gt; is, I don't want to hear about it!) I went upstairs about 10 minutes ago, in response to a cacophony of noise on the baby monitor (yes, we got a baby monitor so I could listen to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Satinka&lt;/span&gt; and the puppies...next up? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;KaosKam&lt;/span&gt;!). They're WALKING! The whelping box is a hive of activity with the little dudes and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;dudettes&lt;/span&gt; toddling across the blanket. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Satinka&lt;/span&gt; doesn't look as excited over this development as I am. She really has to rush to get into the box and into feeding position because now they move &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;fast...well, compared to before when they were simply dragging their little bodies across the blanket. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today we toddle, tomorrow the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Iditarod&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, yes, if you haven't checked lately, there are new pictures from last weekend's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;photo shoot&lt;/span&gt; on the website.   And we'll take more this weekend, but it may take me a few days to get them up because...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;drum roll&lt;/span&gt; please...I have a new job!  Of course, it happens &lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt; as the puppies are getting interactive...but hey, it'll pay the bills!  &lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2008/01/today-we-discovered-our-feet.html' title='Today we discovered our feet!'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=4498182733644684034&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/4498182733644684034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/4498182733644684034'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/4498182733644684034'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-3582705375951492635</id><published>2008-01-12T12:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T12:18:34.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Satinklettes have arrived</title><content type='html'>From the first squeak at about 4:30 this morning to the surprise #6 puppy at about 10:30, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Satinklettes&lt;/span&gt; made their way into the world. The first one out was a gray girl (gray, not so surprising, girl, very exciting). Then, after about 30 minutes, gray girl #2 showed up. She's the one with the diamond on her back. Then, after another 30 minutes or so, gray girl #3 showed up! I can't tell you how excited I was at this point, because I wanted a girl. Now I have three girls to choose from.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154685952855418322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R4kfkDykpdI/AAAAAAAAAJU/ItTaweu_ekE/s320/3girls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then the boys started arriving...boys as in PLURAL! We were hoping for one more, and the arrival of the bonus boy, #5, produced cries of joy (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;after all&lt;/span&gt;, we didn't have to do anything but watch). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154686425301820898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R4kf_jykpeI/AAAAAAAAAJc/e0Px9-VKero/s320/thesatinklettes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then a little bit later Sean hollered "there's another puppy!"  Number SIX!  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WOOHOO&lt;/span&gt;!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Six darling gray and white puppies, three boys, three girls.  A little later today, after Mom and the kids have had some time to bond and eat and rest we'll take their Birthday pictures.  For now, we're just going to enjoy them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2008/01/satinklettes-have-arrived.html' title='The Satinklettes have arrived'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=3582705375951492635&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/3582705375951492635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/3582705375951492635'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/3582705375951492635'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-3488487892294905145</id><published>2008-01-10T18:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T18:19:32.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Satinka....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R4bP0jykpbI/AAAAAAAAAJE/9jmTx2EnXTU/s1600-h/2006+05+14+Tinks+WB+Cabrillo+KC.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154035325439616434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R4bP0jykpbI/AAAAAAAAAJE/9jmTx2EnXTU/s320/2006+05+14+Tinks+WB+Cabrillo+KC.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R4bPrTykpaI/AAAAAAAAAI8/LQxXGjlNEiY/s1600-h/Image1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Here's Satinka...isn't she a lovely, elegant looking young lady?&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R4bQGjykpcI/AAAAAAAAAJM/xDnIy3j13P0/s1600-h/010508.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154035634677261762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R4bQGjykpcI/AAAAAAAAAJM/xDnIy3j13P0/s320/010508.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here she is, a week before she's due. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks thrilled, eh?</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-is-satinka.html' title='This is Satinka....'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=3488487892294905145&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/3488487892294905145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/3488487892294905145'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/3488487892294905145'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-93543201281355247</id><published>2008-01-02T15:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T15:48:50.681-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We're almost there!</title><content type='html'>I can't believe how fast the time has gone.  From just a month ago when we first saw the puppies on the ultrasound screen to today, one week from The Due Date. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Satinka&lt;/span&gt; is due next Wed/Thurs.  Her milk is coming in...from the feel of it, these puppies are going to be WELL fed :-)  She's decided that she needs to be next to me at all times and woe to the dog who tries to get between us.  She spends a fair amount of time demanding that I rub her belly.  Last night I felt a puppy move for the first time!  Holy cow was that exciting or what!  Then, of course, I kept her up for a couple hours hoping to feel it again...but they must have been stretching before going back to sleep.  I did hear puppy heartbeat with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;stethescope&lt;/span&gt; too.  That's way cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whelping box is clean and tonight the husband is re-caulking the corners.  I scrubbed most of the caulk off.  Tomorrow I'll be setting up the Whelping Palace (no mere box or pen for La Diva!).  She's heading into the vet for an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;x-ray&lt;/span&gt; on Thursday or Friday...Monday at the latest, but if she surprises me and goes into labor sooner than expected, I'd rather not be on the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got batteries for the baby monitor, a radiant ceramic heater, puppy pads to provide &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Satinka&lt;/span&gt; with somewhere to pee if I'm not around to let her out, blankets and towels, everything I could possibly need for the Event, including the phone numbers of some good breeder friends who I'm sure won't mind me calling at 3am in a panic (uh, right?)  and a sleeping bag because I'm certain that if she can't be on the bed, I'm not going to be allowed on it either!   Tomorrow I'll start taking her temp AM &amp;amp; PM and charting it in my very first Whelping &amp;amp; Puppy Notebook...not that I'm obsessive or anything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She does think it's pretty cool getting two meals a day, I'm sure I'm going to hear it in a couple of months when she goes back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-puppy amounts.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2008/01/were-almost-there.html' title='We&apos;re almost there!'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=93543201281355247&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/93543201281355247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/93543201281355247'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/93543201281355247'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-830220380299873706</id><published>2007-12-12T16:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T16:25:48.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Official First Picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R2B7lYoZKZI/AAAAAAAAAHs/wMqxH0IaYCY/s1600-h/us1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143246656654354834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/R2B7lYoZKZI/AAAAAAAAAHs/wMqxH0IaYCY/s400/us1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, it's that time...we finally have a picture of the first Kaos puppy. See that little + sign at the left?  That's near the head.  And the one  on the right?  That's near the opposite end :-)  The little bugger is 2.85 cm long and about 32 days old.  Due date for the trio (there are at least two more in there) is Jan 11.  I can't wait!  There's so much to do to get ready.  &lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/12/official-first-picture.html' title='The Official First Picture'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=830220380299873706&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/830220380299873706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/830220380299873706'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/830220380299873706'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-7002776439436396570</id><published>2007-11-19T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T21:28:40.754-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaos' Kamping WeeKend</title><content type='html'>Daddy and Grandma took 7 of the crew (Katie, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Aleska&lt;/span&gt; and Abby went with Grandma; Ice, Frosty, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Arwen&lt;/span&gt; and Blaze went with Daddy) off to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SCWSD&lt;/span&gt; camping weekend somewhere where there's no running water or electricity (hence the reason you don't see MY name on the list of attendees!).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma got a few shots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Kamp&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Kaos&lt;/span&gt;, where Katie, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Aleska&lt;/span&gt;, Abby and Grandma reside when they camp as well as a shot of Nichole's team and a couple of Sean's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Krew&lt;/span&gt;.  In Sean's team, that's Frosty and her Grandpa Ice up in lead and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Arwen&lt;/span&gt; (the loaner aka &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Satinka's&lt;/span&gt; stunt double) and Blaze at wheel.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Arwen&lt;/span&gt; ran lead the other two short runs of the weekend and did great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean said it was great fun having four dogs who actually work the whole time  (not to mention any Ryder or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Satinka&lt;/span&gt; names).  It was Blaze's first real run and I'm proud to say that Daddy's not cutting him from the team yet (unlike Ryder who will be out to create symmetry in the team hookup, not do any actual work).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.picturetrail.com/kaossiberians"&gt;http://www.picturetrail.com/kaossiberians&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/11/kaos-kamping-weekend.html' title='Kaos&apos; Kamping WeeKend'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=7002776439436396570&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/7002776439436396570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/7002776439436396570'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/7002776439436396570'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-2918835808942523263</id><published>2007-10-25T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T10:08:09.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did somebody say Dog Show?</title><content type='html'>Knowing he's got a big week coming up, Blaze spends a little extra time on facials and pedicure. And I suppose this also answers the age old question...what do they do while we're at work all day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/RyDMc6i9jiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ZkkLK2XsqZE/s1600-h/spaboy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125321173071924770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/RyDMc6i9jiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ZkkLK2XsqZE/s400/spaboy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/10/did-somebody-say-dog-show.html' title='Did somebody say Dog Show?'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=2918835808942523263&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/2918835808942523263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/2918835808942523263'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/2918835808942523263'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-4684860213907534510</id><published>2007-10-23T11:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T11:33:31.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone's going to pay for this!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/Rx4-VMmpbWI/AAAAAAAAAF4/XNgsXpk86BA/s1600-h/demonchild.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124601959875702114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/Rx4-VMmpbWI/AAAAAAAAAF4/XNgsXpk86BA/s400/demonchild.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Says Robin...aka The Red Headed Demon Child who was forced to wear Katie's hand-me-down, puppy sized costume. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/10/someones-going-to-pay-for-this.html' title='Someone&apos;s going to pay for this!'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=4684860213907534510&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/4684860213907534510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/4684860213907534510'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/4684860213907534510'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-3846057621608032748</id><published>2007-10-12T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T11:08:03.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's my shoe?</title><content type='html'>Puppies chew shoes and anything else they can find, right?  I mean, it's a known fact.  We've never had much of a problem with shoes and puppies...well, other than the time that puppy Katie took off with my shoe and dunked it in the water outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Robin?  She &lt;em&gt;adores&lt;/em&gt; shoes.  &lt;em&gt;LOVES &lt;/em&gt;them.  &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CRAVES &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;them.  And she's sneaky good! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma had (note the past tense) a pair of Crocs.  You know, those ugly, clog like rubber sandal things?  She took them away from Robin once and put them on the sofa table.  End of story, right?  Nope.  Robin got up on the sofa, took the shoe and settled down for a good chew.  She was a fair way through the shoe before I heard a funny noise (funny noises and quiet are two things that we worry about) and found her curled up with the remains of the Croc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean was laying on the sofa one night, having removed his shoes and put them under the coffee table right in front of him.  Enter Robin, exit shoe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it doesn't stop there.  I took off my loafers and put them under the coffee table and was playing with the dogs and reading (it is possible to do both).  Next thing I knew, I looked down and there was only one shoe.  ROBIN!!!!  Sure enough, she's outside, curled up working her way through the leather loafer.  You'd think, by now, we'd know to keep our shoes safe, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend Katie's boy, Zach, and his mom spent the night.  I think we forgot to warn them about the Shoe Monster.  You see Robin streaking out the door and say "everyone check your shoes" as you follow to see what she's stolen.  Not only had she stolen one of Zach's shoes, but taking a page out of Katie's book, dunked it in the water bowl.  So I put it in the dryer on that special rack that's not supposed to rotate..THUMP THUMP THUMP.  I grabbed the door open and pulled the rack out before it killed my dryer and the shoe fell to the floor.  I put the rack away and turned to pick up the shoe...it was GONE!  GONE!  ROBIN!!!!!  The shoe was retrieved, unharmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, as I was talking to Grandma, reviewing our plans for the day I felt something on my foot.  I looked down.  Now she's not even waiting for me to take them OFF!  ROBIN, that's my SHOE!  She looks up at me with that gleam in her golden eyes.....Yeah, Mom, I know.  But you're not paying attention to it.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/10/wheres-my-shoe.html' title='Where&apos;s my shoe?'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=3846057621608032748&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/3846057621608032748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/3846057621608032748'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/3846057621608032748'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-3332167842178250438</id><published>2007-08-08T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T09:46:53.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passing the Torch</title><content type='html'>It happens, when you have new dogs move in. Inevitably one habit, one you were happy to see extinguished in a current dog, will raise its head in a new dog. Or, sometimes a characteristic behavior in a dog you've loved and lost will echo in the behavior of a new dog. We've got both going on at Kaos right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember Blaze, the Demolition Man who felt it was his sworn duty to help Daddy remove drywall, even the new drywall? Blaze, after some serious drywall removal, gave up that habit. Whether it was the gallons of Bitter Apple we sprayed around the edges of the exposed drywall (and, by the way, in a 2800 sq ft house, with NO baseboards reinstalled after the Great Re-Tiling Caper of 2006 there are a LOT of exposed drywall edges) or the hours of "Blaze, QUIT" that did the trick, we'll never know...but he stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Grandma reported that Robin found a tasty piece of drywall. The odd noise got Grandma's attention immediately and little damage was done. This morning, as I stepped out of the shower, I heard a noise I'd hoped never to hear again...sort of a scraping sound...like the front teeth of a dog scraping at drywall. I glanced in the bedroom to see Satinka, Frosty, Max and Lacy lazing, innocently, on the bed. Another step into the room and I saw Robin, over in the corner, busying herself. "That'd better be a nylabone" I said in my most impressive Mean Mom voice. I should have saved it. She didn't care. She looked up from her demolition project as if she didn't have a care in the world. I found a nylabone, handed it to her, showed her the inside of the crate and shut the door to continue my morning. Great, another Demolition Dog. This time Sean says if she destroys drywall, I'm going to learn to repair it myself. Might be easier to train the puppy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are the echos of dogs loved and lost. Tasha, whom some of you may remember, was a Grumbly Guss. At first we thought she was simply aggressive and were, quite rightly, cautious. As we got to know her, we realized she was simply a talker...a street-wise trash talker to be more specific. Walk by my crate? Grumble, grumble..oh, you're not impressed, fine. Get in my face? Grumble, grumble. Ok, let's go play. She was all noise. I can't recall that she ever even snapped at another dog or person. Of course, time may have dulled those memories, leaving only the good ones...but that's time's job, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter Abby. A couple of months ago she was a "save this dog" rescue post. Neglected by her owners, she had maggot infested open wounds. Knowing that Kaos wasn't a good place for her at that time, I forwarded the e-mails to some other folks who might be able to help her and put her out of my mind. Thinking about all the dogs you can't help will make you crazy. But Grandma's don't forget. Then she found out that she was with Chris, a local rescuer who got her out of the shelter, got her the needed vet care and was fostering her, looking for the right home. The right home wasn't a "we have one dog and it needs company" home, because Abby (well, she was Sheena then) wasn't super fond of having another dog roughhousing with her. She'd been separated from Chris' dogs for a few weeks, becoming accustomed to them by the separation and safe space of her own run. But she never, really, left Grandma's mind I don't think. I didn't think Kaos would be her place. We have a lot of dogs...a lot of active dogs who I knew wouldn't leave her alone. But Grandma wanted to try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter Abby. Oh, I said that already, didn't I. But, no, really...Abby entered. She met Katie and didn't hate her on sight. Then she came to visit at Kaos. It's temporary, we'll see how she works out. She was a grumbly girl, not really timid, but not accustomed to the rough and tumble of Kaos. She'd perch up on the couch and growl at every dog who walked by, letting them know they were invading her space. I had my doubts she'd settle in, that we were going to be a happy home for her. Grandma had her doubts. Sean had his. We must have talked to Chris a million times the first few days "Abby's doing this, is this normal?" We expected a lot from Abby, too soon, was the consensus. We gave her space, she got the double run to herself while we were gone, getting used to the rest of the dogs in a safe space, where Blaze couldn't chase her into the dog house to play, where Katie couldn't play bow and leap at her to instigate a game of chase...where Robin couldn't simply pester her in an attempt to wear down her defenses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there was something, so we kept watching .... and then Satinka walked by and somehow her face ended up in Abby's mouth. That was Abby's last free pass from me. She didn't bite, she just held and released, much to my relief (and probably Satinka's too). She was sweet, engaging and made me smile, but my first responsibility is to the dogs who live with me...tough talk, eh? In the 10 days she's been her, Abby has won my heart..my carefully guarded, I don't want any more rescues 'cause they break my heart when they get sick so soon, heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's got issues, she's not fond of having her space invaded. She guards the couch a little too much, so she's not allowed up there. You try to tell one dog why they can't be on the couch and everyone else can...it's TOUGH. Blaze drove her crazy, with his insistance that she play with him...he wore her down. Abby learned it was easier to play with Blaze for a couple of minutes than to tell him to go away. She has her snarky moments, but so do the rest of us at Kaos, two and four legged. She's learning that our hands on her body won't cause pain. Whether its remembered pain from the open sores or some other pain that hands caused her in her past, she's slowly forgetting that and welcoming the scratches and belly rubs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's got cataracts, so her field of vision is a little fuzzy. I guess that means we won't rearrange the furniture often, so that when her vision goes, she knows where things are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time she grumbles I think of Tasha, my summer girl, her big blue eyes and mangled foot. Every time she cocks her head, looks up at me with those laughing eyes, I melt a little bit more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passing the Torch or Echos of the Past? I see a little bit of the dogs who've been through Kaos in each of the dogs who are here. Sometimes it makes me laugh, sometimes it makes me cry. Sometimes it makes me wonder how to hide the drywall damage from the husband. But each time it makes me realize how vulnerable I am to those furry faces, those smiles, those sweet doggie kisses and hugs.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/08/it-happens-when-you-have-new-dogs-move.html' title='Passing the Torch'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=3332167842178250438&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/3332167842178250438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/3332167842178250438'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/3332167842178250438'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-3285443209493555357</id><published>2007-07-10T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T10:57:42.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blaze The Magnificent</title><content type='html'>Last night we took Robin (aka the Red Headed Screaming Demon Child) to PetSmart, to work on some issues (namely screaming when told to do something she doesn't want to do) and we put all the dogs outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean pulled up as we were getting in the car, he opened the door and came back out quickly "Why is Blaze loose in the house?"  Oh no, not again...so soon after having accidentally left Robin inside, I couldn't believe I'd done it again...and this time with a boy who a) marks and b) CAN reach the counter tops.  But wait, I distinctly remember walking him to the door and closing it, because he wanted his own, special invitation from Mom.  I decided to think about it later, then it hit me.  The windows were open in the living room, and one of 'em doesn't have a screen.  Blaze considers that his own, personal, doggie door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, as I went back in the house to tell Sean I hadn't completely lost my mind, Blaze excited the same way he came in...through the window.  Good thing we don't wash the windows!  I'd hate to see him plastered against one like a bird!</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/07/blaze-magnificent.html' title='Blaze The Magnificent'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=3285443209493555357&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/3285443209493555357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/3285443209493555357'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/3285443209493555357'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-6894659062741194694</id><published>2007-07-06T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T10:29:05.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Robin's Great Adventure</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, the husband called me while I was driving home "What is the puppy doing in the house?"  Um...hello?  Puppy in the house all day long...several horrible disasters loomed in my mind.  "What did she destroy?" I asked carefully, not really wanting to know the answer.  "Well, I haven't found anything yet, other than a lot of toys strewn all over."  I breathed a thankful sigh of relief. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, how many times did she go potty in the house?" I then asked, wondering if the clean up would be left for me when I got home, she is, after all, my puppy, even if she's a suck-up to Daddy girl.  "I can't find anything, but I'm not going in your craft room, I wouldn't know if anything was out of place there."  Ok...I can live with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it appears, at about 4 1/2 months old, Robin is potty trained.  We didn't find any puppy messes and she was darn eager to get outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's still the mystery of how she got INTO the house...everyone else was outside and the doors and windows were all locked and closed.  I'm trying hard not to think too much about that.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/07/robins-great-adventure.html' title='Robin&apos;s Great Adventure'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=6894659062741194694&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/6894659062741194694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/6894659062741194694'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/6894659062741194694'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-7590050682593896417</id><published>2007-06-28T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T15:02:06.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fireworks and security</title><content type='html'>First, let me say that I LOVE fireworks.  The huge, orchestrated displays that you can go watch (or see from your backyard) that many municipalities put on are fantastic.  I despise the noisy, bang bang fireworks that you can light off in the street putting life, limb and property at risk.  It's fireworks season and given that July 4 is mid-week this year, I expect we'll have them both the weekend before and the weekend after in no small quantity, despite that fact that they're illegal in Riverside County.  We'll stock up on the Rescue Remedy for Lacy and Cheyenne, who are scared senseless of the noise and put them in a bedroom to hide. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satinka loves watching things in the air, whether it's a fly that she's going to catch or an airplane overhead; things flying around fascinate her.  Last summer Satinka and Humvee sat on the picnic table and watched airplanes for hours, their pointy little noses aimed skyward and moving back and forth, as if watching some sort of aerial tennis match.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the fireworks start, Satinka runs outside and scans the sky, looking for that tale tail stream of light heading skyward.  Once she spots it she freezes, like a well-trained pointer when game is present.  The delight in her face when she sees the explosion of light is priceless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satinka, a veteran of fireworks displays, went running outside after the first bang, watching for the explosion of color (she doesn't get the physics of the speed of light v. the speed of sound, but what she does know is there's always more coming if she's patient).   While the older dogs (and Blaze, who couldn't be bothered) just settled in for another evening of noise, Robin had to go investigate the new noise.   I followed, not certain how the puppy was going to handle the noise, wondering if I was going to be needed to provide comfort.  Well, Robin's a pretty confident little miss and not much worries her.  The first bang startled her, and she looked to Satinka to see how she should react.  Then,  I had two girls watching the sky.  When the first explosion of light came Robin jumped for it, to catch that bit of brightness for herself.  After missing the catch, she watched Satinka carefully again tracking the flare of the rising pyrotechnic device (Satinka uses those big words, she may not understand physics, but she's smart).  Robin followed her gaze, not wanting to miss anything.  Since the day she moved in she hasn't wanted to miss anything...and she doesn't.  The explosion in the sky fascinated her...she didn't jump for it this time, she'd already figured out that it was out of reach, she just stood, like her big sister, steady and solid, enjoying the nighttime display. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's what I want for my puppy, the fearlessness that lets her face life head on when confronted with new and potentially scary events; the confidence that lets her jump into new experiences knowing that I will never let anything harm her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's what I want for Lacy and Cheyenne too but, having missed the formative years of their life, I may just have to be content with knowing that when they're scared they know that I'll provide them a safe hiding place.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/06/fireworks-and-security.html' title='Fireworks and security'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=7590050682593896417&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/7590050682593896417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/7590050682593896417'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/7590050682593896417'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-4304997838217830003</id><published>2007-06-17T16:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T16:21:07.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppytopia...new and improved</title><content type='html'>You know it's going to be "A Weekend" when you come downstairs on Saturday morning and find Frosty, who was safely tucked into her "escape proof" crate on the sofa. A quick inspection revealed that she's managed to break the cable/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;zipties&lt;/span&gt; holding the crate together, allowing her to push the door open about 4", more than enough room to squeeze out of. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, fixed that, went on with the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, I came downstairs to find that Frosty wasn't feeling well. For those of you without dogs just trust me, you know. Frosty, in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sky Kennel&lt;/span&gt; (with ventilation holes in the back of the crate) managed to deposit all of the evidence of her upset stomach (the final remains of yesterday's escape and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;counter surfing&lt;/span&gt; episode) outside of her crate, leaving her crate and herself clean. Not bad, a little vinegar, a little hydrogen peroxide, a couple of towels and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;every thing's&lt;/span&gt; good. Did I mention that she managed to break two more cable ties...almost lifting the top off of the crate? In case you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; know, dogs have a den instinct and no dogs wants to soil its den. Frosty is no exception. Anyway...it's going to be one of *those* weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, on to Robin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; we create The Puppy Palace, we make a few changes. This time, I dubbed the area "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Puppytopia&lt;/span&gt;." When Robin's brothers and sister were here visiting, it was where we put the four little monsters when we needed to contain them. Now that it's just Robin, it's her daytime hang out place...as she's not quite old enough to go out in the yard with the big dogs all day. We've created a pretty good (if we do say so ourselves) containment area. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have this little ritual when I come home - I unlock and open the door and say "oh, no Robin" and look over in the puppy pen and say "there she is!" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, it's silly, but it's what I do. Today, I unlocked the door, said "no Robin!" and then said "Oh #$%&amp;*"- she just didn't have time to get down the stairs when she heard the door. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Puppytopia&lt;/span&gt; looked like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077174348184781058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/RnW_K25HgQI/AAAAAAAAABk/5SoOBU9jeOU/s320/IMG_2517.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll notice a few small changes from the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Puppytopia&lt;/span&gt; pictured on our &lt;a href="http://www.kaossiberians.com/puppypalace.html"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;, namely that the puppy pen doesn't seem to be centered on that lovely piece of vinyl. It seems Robin was tired of that flooring and wanted to use some tile. I could have lived with that...if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;there'd&lt;/span&gt; been a Robin still IN &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Puppytopia&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, now we have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Puppytopia&lt;/span&gt;, PCS v2.0 (that's Puppy Containment System, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;vers&lt;/span&gt;. 2). It looks like this:&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/RnW_yG5HgRI/AAAAAAAAABs/_RuwQHybS4c/s1600-h/IMG_2518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077175022494646546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/RnW_yG5HgRI/AAAAAAAAABs/_RuwQHybS4c/s320/IMG_2518.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;You'll notice there appears to be a lid on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Puppytopia&lt;/span&gt;, hopefully ending any more escapes by the clever little puppy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm sure Robin will come up with something new to entertain, amuse and surprise me. But if she learns to undo the clips keeping &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Puppytopia&lt;/span&gt; together, I'm going to seriously consider sending her back to her breeder!!! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, maybe not. But I'm going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;unseriously&lt;/span&gt; consider it!&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/06/puppytopianew-and-improved.html' title='Puppytopia...new and improved'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=4304997838217830003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/4304997838217830003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/4304997838217830003'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/4304997838217830003'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-2992234407640501977</id><published>2007-06-12T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T16:23:29.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All About Robin</title><content type='html'>Kaos has a new face...I know I've talked about her, but she's finally here. Maskarade's What Dreams May Come, aka Robin, Rotten Robin, Robin Bo Bobbin... the nicknames are endless. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last weekend we went to another puppy match. Now, I'll admit to being somewhat remiss in our training, but I thought she did pretty well. Before we started, we had a LONG heart to heart talk about how things were going to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It went went like this:&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075320210803097794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/Rm8o125HgMI/AAAAAAAAABE/PHnopqhtX8w/s320/IMG_2260.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Me: Robin, we're going to trot around this ring when I say "let's go."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Robin: We are? Why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Because I say so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Robin: Hey, Mom, there's something on your nose, let me get it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075321159990870226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/Rm8ptG5HgNI/AAAAAAAAABM/vLoUU27eFZM/s320/IMG_2261robin.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Me: Robin, you're cute, and I love you...but we're going to work now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Robin: Mom, work this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075321847185637618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_QLuDtciBnc4/Rm8qVG5HgPI/AAAAAAAAABc/KGj-eTiL--I/s320/robin4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/06/all-about-robin.html' title='All About Robin'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=2992234407640501977&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/2992234407640501977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/2992234407640501977'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/2992234407640501977'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-5262155459484932056</id><published>2007-05-17T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T15:33:04.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They just don't appreciate me.</title><content type='html'>Take, for instance, Lacy.  I bought her a $60 dog bed (yes, I know...but it matches my bedroom so nicely).  What happens?  She stays on the ratty, lumpy rectangular bed that we got years ago, probably at Big Lots (when the dogs eat things, you learn to train 'em not to eat things with the cheap versions) and Max takes the new bed.  OK, fine.  So I buy TWO more round beds, they don't match the $60 bed, but hey, they coordinate :-)  I move the "good" bed over to Lacy's spot where the ratty, old bed usually ends up, put the two new beds at the foot of the bed where Max sleeps and I move the ratty old bed over to a spot near my bed where no one usually sleeps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, did I mention that at some point, I added an older pillow to Lacy's new bed to make it more comfortable?  Max thought the pillow was a great addition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night I woke up...Max was in one of the new beds, Ry was on a pile of pillows (all the decorative pillows that end up in a pile in the corner, covered by a sheet in case a dog decides to sleep on them), Frosty was on the bed with me and Satinka was in Lacy's "good" bed.  Where was Lacy?  Not in the 2nd new bed...not even on the ratty old bed...she was sprawled on the tile floor, happy as could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does she not understand what I went through to find her a bed?  And to make sure there were enough beds that there would always be a bed for her?  I suppose that doesn't really require an answer, does it.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/05/they-just-dont-appreciate-me.html' title='They just don&apos;t appreciate me.'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=5262155459484932056&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/5262155459484932056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/5262155459484932056'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/5262155459484932056'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-5921592004726307396</id><published>2007-05-15T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T15:30:36.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Baby becomes The Boy</title><content type='html'>I have a friend, who shall remain nameless, who calls her young male dogs "The Boy" in conversation. I laugh about it, because it doesn't matter which boy she's talking about, he's "The Boy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As many of you know, Blaze has been "The Baby." Yesterday The Baby became The Boy.   How did this happen? How did my darling little puppy grow up without me noticing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie is in season. The boys are all far too interested in her and we've instituted the Separation of the Sexes for playtime.  That mean's that Grandma's Girls (which includes Katie) spend a lot more time in Grandma's suite of rooms.   The gate on the stairs remains closed at all times (unless I forget!) and no one gets let inside, outside, upstairs or downstairs without checking "where are the boys?"  or "where's Katie?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All month I've been pleased that The Baby didn't seem to be overly interested in her or really quite "get it." But the signs have been there. He's constantly annoying the other girls, you know, in an irritating pull on her hair to show her you like her, elementary school kind of way.  But yesterday he took another step in moving away from being The Baby and becoming The Boy. I came home to find Ryder had some scratches on his nose. The scratches are remarkably similar to the scratches that Max and Ice sported when Ryder reached that stage in his development. Head wrestling will do that to you...when one of the parties gets a little out of control. The Boy is more assertive, standing over the other males to say "I'm a BOY" now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, he's The Boy. He's figured out what girls are...and he's figured out that he can throw his weight around with the boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think The Baby is growing up.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/05/baby-becomes-boy.html' title='The Baby becomes The Boy'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=5921592004726307396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/5921592004726307396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/5921592004726307396'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/5921592004726307396'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-2097439428254690224</id><published>2007-05-09T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T12:20:14.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mushing Boot Camp 2007 - Pictures!!!</title><content type='html'>When I realized that Sean had forgotten the camera, I was both distressed and, I'll admit, somewhat relieved.  I knew that he was going to be focused on the dogs, working with the dogs and learning...I was kind of afraid the camera would suffer.  But, on the flip side, it meant I wasn't going to get any pictures...and that was distressing.  I love watching the dogs work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happily Twila and her husband, from Quinalt Siberians, came to the rescue and took some great pictures.  I've snagged the pictures that have shots of Sean and the team in them and uploaded them to our picturetrail &lt;a href="http://www.picturetrail.com/kaossiberians"&gt;album&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.  I especially like that I got to enjoy Boot Camp without having to get up at 5:30 am to water the dogs and grab breakfast! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laura, the Lazy</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/05/mushing-boot-camp-2007-pictures.html' title='Mushing Boot Camp 2007 - Pictures!!!'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=2097439428254690224&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/2097439428254690224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/2097439428254690224'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/2097439428254690224'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-1877696507338086249</id><published>2007-05-07T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T12:35:55.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We survived Mushing Boot Camp 2007</title><content type='html'>Well, we're finally on our way home. We learned a lot this week and worked hard for Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the things we learned?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Don't stop to go potty when working. Daddy will let the other dogs run you over.&lt;br /&gt;2. Don't throw temper tantrums if you don't want to work. Daddy doesn't care and will make you do it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;3. Daddy can be just as mean as Momma and we have to listen to him too when he tells us to do something.&lt;br /&gt;4. Daddy IS the boss of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had SO much fun.  Daddy put me in back for a little while, but then moved me back up front with Grandpa Ice.  I swear, if those two lazy butts behind us (Ryder and Satinka) had done some of the work, Grandpa and I wouldn't have gotten so tired! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I tried to get out of the funny box thing the first night, Daddy put us in our crates to sleep.  That's OK, I guess.  I'd rather have been on the bed with him, but at least I'm used to my crate and it has a crate pad, not that funny straw stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, one more thing I learned - pulling a cart and Daddy through mud is HARD WORK.   And when I get tired and sit down, Daddy makes me go again.  I love running, but really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We practiced "on by" a lot.  I mean a LOT.  Apparently it's very important for us to know "on by" and we do.  Momma taught us that already.  Apparently she didn't tell Daddy we already knew that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Satinka and I think that the really neat cart that Daddy tried looks MUCH better behind us than the black one.   It's sleek and pretty...just like us.  We'll have to talk to Momma about getting one of those.  I know Daddy will help us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be home tonight...I hope Momma's planning on us sleeping on the big bed with her.  We're ready for a soft bed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frosty, the Littlest Lead Dog</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/05/we-survived-mushing-boot-camp-2007.html' title='We survived Mushing Boot Camp 2007'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=1877696507338086249&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/1877696507338086249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/1877696507338086249'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/1877696507338086249'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15013149.post-6335310160442358539</id><published>2007-05-04T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T16:29:37.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mushing Boot Camp, 2nd Report</title><content type='html'>Hey Mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ry figured out how to work this cell phone, so while Daddy's inside talking with all those people, we thought we'd call you and tell you what's really going on up here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm running lead, with Tinks. It's pretty cool; she doesn't work quite as hard as I do but she's pretty good. Daddy's teaching us to line out...he said we were really good, especially Tinks and I when we stayed while he took Ry &amp; Frosty off to their tie outs. Tinks was the last one off and she stood there like a real sled dog, waiting her turn. The folks here said since I'm the best worker, I should run up front and man is it cool! There's so much more to see up here.  I like it up front.   Ryder keeps trying to catch up with me, but he can't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were trying to help Daddy, by coming back to the cart to get our water, but he wanted us to stay in our spots. So, I guess we'll just let him wait on us. We were just trying to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been practicing on by. It's like you make us do when we can't stop to check stuff out, so it's no big deal but some of these dogs are BIG! Now I have to figure out how to mark without stopping, 'cause Daddy's decided I don't need to stop and mark every little thing. Doesn't he know that's one of my main jobs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, Momma, Daddy feeds us TWICE a day. The meals are a little smaller, but we get fed TWICE. We need to talk when we get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon Daddy says we're doing a "wet" run...that means we get to go play in the MUD! I can't wait. We've been teaching Daddy to get off the cart and run beside it, so we'll have more energy for playing in the mud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ry, Tinks and Frosty are already asleep, so I'd better figure out how to put this phone back where Ry found it and catch some shut eye myself.   We've got MUD to play in this afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ice, Lead Dog</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/2007/05/mushing-boot-camp-2nd-report.html' title='Mushing Boot Camp, 2nd Report'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15013149&amp;postID=6335310160442358539&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/6335310160442358539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kaossiberians.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/6335310160442358539'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15013149/posts/default/6335310160442358539'/><author><name>Kaos Siberians</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry></feed>