Winter Moodies

Ye gods, the lack of updates. I guess I have a few excuses - this was my last semester of graduate school, and so my comprehensive exams took up a lot of my writing time. I could have done some small posts. Oh well, let's have a new one for the holidays.

Things were quiet this fall. As the girls approach maturity, they're settling in to their adult personalities, which causes hiccups as the pack adjusts to everyone's quirks. Zelda the skittish wild one is showing herself to be a cuddly lovebug, but still more cautious and shy than her bold sister. Midna, on the other hand, is made of swank and swag - she's clearly a top dog who faces any challenge with a hard stare, a disgruntled yip, and bullying body slam. They're both still a handful, but in different enough spheres that I get a little of everything.

My favorite part of the day is where they bite each other instead of me.

Bastas is slipping into winter mode, where his personality starts to shift because of hormones. As I've mentioned before, winter is the breeding season for wolves, and so some wolfdogs will experience seasonal behavior changes throughout the winter months. Some will be static cling beasts, while others get moody, temperamental, and more hard headed even than usual. Bast tends towards the latter type, and we've had little incidents over the last few weeks as the breeding season approaches.

Before anyone asks, yes, Bast is neutered - however scooping out his nards only removed the greatest source of testosterone, not the only one. Despite his lower wolf content and lack of cojones, I still get some of the fun of seasonal behaviors, though we've been fortunate enough thus far to avoid anything serious.

Crazy brains on fleek.

One of Bast's more charming winter behaviors is throwing out previously established rules as trash, particularly rules that revolve around the theme, "Don't pee in the house." His territorial instincts are heightened, and his need to establish his harem overrides his usual house manners.

After chasing him away from the Christmas tree a few times - and washing the skirt a few more when I wasn't quick enough - I had thought  we had re-established that peeing on the floor is a jerk move, however at lunch while  I sat munching a PB&J, Bast hiked on the doorframe to the kitchen.

I squawked and lurched up, chasing him out the back door and slamming it shut behind him. I stomped into the kitchen to get the enzyme cleaner - which I should probably invest in stock in - and came back to find him standing at the glass door, staring at me.

We locked eyes, and he stood still for a moment before turning to the side... and hiking his leg and pissing all down the glass door in front of me.

Loud and clear, buddy. I read you loud and clear.