A change of pace

So, Clearly the crimes have settled down- thus the almost total lack of updates here.

I wouldn't go so far as to say the kids are cured of their criminal ways, but they do seem to be handling rehab pretty well.

This got me thinking- whats the point of the bitter rants that caused this blog if there are no crimes to report?

Then I got to thinking- I've been volunteering at the local animal shelter- dealing with the "inmates" there, and doing my part to get them all placed in new homes. Maybe those are my new criminals. I can use this as a forum to talk about the trials and tribulations of being a volunteer working with the dogs and humans (which is really the hard part) and trying to make matches between the 2.

So there might be a little adjustment period- which shouldn't be a shock considering how long its taken me to even come to this realization. Maybe I'll reformat things to make it even more obvious that a change has blown thru. After all that happens- and after Thanksgiving, 'cause people, I got plans!- you can look forward to a new chapter in the Crimes of the Paws 'book'

I hope this sounds good to everyone. 'Cause it sounds good to me.

Now can I live up to my own hype?

Only time will tell.

Happy Holidays!

Public Drunkenness?

OK, so it's been ages since I updated you all on the wiley workings of the Criminals. They've been mostly well behaved. Mostly.

But then, we started obedience class with Piper.

This is a scenario where you would think that her behavior would get better then before. There, you would be wrong.

When she's in class, she is a total mess. We are the class idiots. She has been dubbed (granted, we did this, but it's appropriate) Hyper Piper. She spends the entire 90 minutes of class whining, moaning, lunging, pulling, looking anywhere but where she's supposed to, frothing at the mouth and just in general being a well formed definition of "what not to let your dog do".

Blessedly, our trainer is VERY understanding- having some terrier mixes of her own- and allows us to work with Piper at our own rate a lot of the time. Piper will get all the commands eventually, we just have to do it in a different way sometimes. When we practice at home, she's doing great- really strong command of the different behaviors we're enforcing. In class- a complete and total disaster.

The source of all the frenzy is she really wants to get to and play with all the other dogs in class. In particular the barely 5 lbs chihuahua. This poor teeny tiny dog, who is maybe 1/7 Piper's size, has become an object of obsession, because we simply will not let Piper get to her. It's just too dangerous. She's practically a Smurf, and Piper is like a wooly mammoth in comparison.

One thing to note before I go any further- we discovered, and swear by, the Gentle Leader snout harness for Piper. I get no endorsement money for saying this- but it has seriously changed our lives when it comes to walking our Disaster dog. If you have a dog that is a tugger or lunger on the leash- GET ONE! The element of control you have with it is just an entirely different world.

If you don't know what this is, a brief description is - it's similar to a horses halter- it goes around their snout and behind their head, and is connected to the leash under their mouth- so if they pull, their head turns to the side, as your arm maintains positioning. I hope that makes sense.... basically their face becomes a pivot point they have to learn to work around, instead of just pulling you down the road with their neck/shoulders.

OK, so with that established, Piper wears this gentle leader during class, which makes it easier to manage her totally un-managable lunging, bucking, and jumping at the other dogs. Within the first 45 minutes of class on the first day, she had discovered that there was a secondary benefit to this.

The Spin.

So, here's what happened- After staring at one of the dogs in class intently for about 5 minutes (with us trying to get her to stop the entire time) She lunged. Full force, full body "if I do this hard enough I can achieve anything" determination lunge. Her face, being attached to my very firm grip via her harness, became a pivot point for this lunge. Her body, having been thrown in the air with the force of her lunge, had no where to go but around her unmoving head. She had spun herself, mid air, in a 360 degree circle. Like a bizarrely drunk superhero, she took off and landed in the same spot, but she flew nonetheless.

There was a pause where she realized what had just happened, and the desired affect of now being further away from us had not been accomplished. Then she realized- WHEEEEEE!! that's fun!!!!

At this point she achieves The Spin at least once every 10-15 minutes during class, usually more then once at a time. She'll do 3-4 Spins in a row, with barely any time in between. She only does it in class, and only when we think she's calmed down. I'm not sure how she knows that last part, but she sure does seem to. If it weren't totally humiliating, it would be a pretty cool trick. I mean, how many 40lb dogs can fly? Not many, I would wager.

The Teeny tiny chihuahua is the most regular recipient of The Spin. She seems to think it's funny and bounces around whenever it happens. Damnit Tiny dog- don't encourage this!! I swear the 2 of them have talked when we weren't looking and conspired to entertain themselves with this.

So, fret not, we're clearly not out of the criminal woods yet with these misfits. There's more to come, I'm sure of it.

Crime Spree Lull

There haven't been many updates here recently, but its mainly because everyone has been behaving themselves. Which is weird and makes me very suspicious.

I mean, don't get me wrong, we've had repeated issues with things being stolen out of cabinets and off of counters- not to mention the day I found Odie shredding a shoe box for no particular reason. All told though, we've been light on excitement (and crimes) recently. Despite moments of wondering why I ever brought these insane creatures into my home, in general they've been behaving reasonably well.

I'm not used to this.... relative calm. It makes me edgy. I'm just waiting for the next thing to happen where I want to set them free. It'll come around eventually, I'm sure, it always does, but for now we seem to be in a lull of sorts.

This has given me the opportunity to take a moment and look at this motley crew of a family we have going for us right now. Talk about a mis-mash of shapes and sizes! It's really quite the funny family portrait. What does strike me though- it has become a family. We are all bonding with each other and getting used to each other and realizing that this grouping of creatures is now a unit. It takes a long time for new dogs to really feel like they belong in your house. I think people tend to underestimate how long it really takes. At least I did.

When we lost Toby last year I thought it would be ages until I was ready for another dog. While I will never claim that I was ready when Odie showed up- I was far from ready for him or all the chaos he brought with him. I can say that now, a year later, with 2 new dogs in the house, I'm ok with it. I realize that neither one of the new kids have stolen Toby's place in my heart, and no matter how long I live, and how many dogs come and go over that time, each one will be different, and mean something individual to me. Toby was my first real dog that was just mine (the dog I grew up with was clearly my mothers dog, despite any labeling we put on him about being mine. And that is just fine, that is how it was meant to be) and we taught each other a lot. Although he was part of a 3 person family, I spent so much time with him alone over the years, that I felt like I knew him on an individual level- as I'm sure my husband does too. I will never have another dog like him, despite all my desires.

I started with a Professor of life (as we called Toby) and now I have a Clown and a Worshipper. Each one has their quirks and strengths. Each one brings something new to the family tableau. Each one has taught me more about these strange animals that we've domesticated and brought into the home. Without these new criminals in my house, I wouldn't know certain behaviors or transitions were common. Odie taught me just HOW dramatic a change can be when you get a dog fixed- and how great that is. Piper taught me to never fully trust the dog you meet in the shelter to have exactly the same personality when you break them out. They've both taught me about having multiple dogs and the pluses and minuses that come along with their collective, collusive craziness. I know more about the spectrum of dogs, and their personalities. I know more about just how friggin creative they can be about getting into trouble, and how fast it can happen. I just know more.

I appreciate what life threw at me, even when I wasn't ready for it. Then again, when does life ever throw you something the moment you're ready? Never. That never happens. It was a hard transition for me, and the dogs suffered through it just as much as I did. I know the first few weeks in the house the dogs were as unsettled as I was, because none of us were very certain of the other. Somehow we all muddled through, and at this point it seems we've made it out the other side.

As I said, I'm sure more calamities will ensue, more crimes will be committed, more punishments doled out, and more adult beverages partaken in. Right now, there's just enough of a respite for me to be able to say all these nice things about the criminals. Speaking of which- if you tell them I said this stuff, I will send them to your house to deal with- so choose wisely.

Repeat Offenders

I don't know how actual law enforcement does it. TV must mirror real life in some ways, and I'm fairly certain repeat offenders would be one of those ways. I mean, there must be people out there who live such a criminal life that when bad things happen, cops automatically jump to it being that person as the perpetrator. It makes sense that those people would exist in most communities.

I have one in my house. Possibly 2. But one for sure.

As always, the crime was committed while I was asleep (would sleeping less solve these problems? Possibly, but it would mean a lot more time in solitary due to warden being cranky as hell) and was discovered upon my opening the bedroom door.

I hadn't even taken a step across the threshold yet- I looked down, blurry eyed, to establish where Piper was so I wouldn't step on her, and there it was:

A chewed up full tube of toothpaste, cap gone, small amount of contents squished out onto carpet through a puncture hole midway down the tube.

My half awake brain couldn't even process this, and I picked it up, showed it to her, and asked "what is this? why is this?" As if she was gonna have an answer that made sense and DIDN'T get her into trouble.

Having no idea how long it had been there (no more then 20 minutes, no less then 5) and whether or not she would still be able to process a punishment, I threw away the tube and used the bathroom as I normally would, having skipped her normal morning affection. That was my way of punishing her. I come out to see if any other hijinks had occurred during my last few moments of peace and almost missed crime scene #2:

In the middle of the living room carpet- the SECOND tube of toothpaste, chewed up, burst open and slimed around a little. Next to it- the cap from the first tube.

My detective skills lead me to this conclusion of events-

Piper had stood up on the counter and taken the first toothpaste tube down, and walked it to the living room. Odie, seeing opportunity, had jumped in and tried his hand at it. Piper, her prize now taken, went back and grabbed a second one for herself.

They both chewed away until they got a taste and realized it wasn't all that great and kind of left it.

It's a good thing not much was eaten, as Fluoride can be very dangerous in larger doses. The plus side is everyone had very fresh breath this morning. Minty even. We're also very lucky she only went for the toothpaste as there were medicines, and an Icy/Hot tube right next to where the toothpaste had been. Any of that stuff could have been expensive at the least, and fatal at the worst.

I cleaned up the mess, washed the carpets, and ignored everyone. No one was given any affection at all for the entire morning. The crime was reported with the defense lawyer (my husband, 'His Boy') who apologized for his clients behavior, and stated concern for their safety. The events were logged, and the only punishment available was delivered.

I'm just warn out from trying to stay one step ahead, because it never seems to be effective. Apparently two terrier mixes actually ARE smarter then 1 human. That is just depressing.

Anyone out there know a good, affordable parole officer... I mean, obedience trainer?

Stolen Goods/ Ingestion of Illegal Substances

Let me take you back to the moment of the first offense:

A couple of weeks ago, as I dozed in the bedroom, and the dogs roamed free in the living room (there's a 20 min overlap of time before I come out where they are allowed free reign of the main area of the house every morning) I suddenly heard a strange noise.

A crackling/popping sound.

It wasn't something I could explain away, so I bolted out of bed and threw open the door.

What to my wondering eyes did appear? But a couple of dogs and a doritos bag just near.

Apparently, SOMEONE (ahem PIPER ahem) had broken into the pantry and liberated a single serving size doritos bag, and they had both taken turns trying to give the individual chips freedom from their cruel enclosure. Oddly, the bag held, and no one got any chips that day. The canines did get a stern talking to, issued a warning, and the pantry doors were shut very firmly.

I had thought lessons were learned all the way around.

When will reality sink in, and I realize lessons are NEVER learned in my house?

Second offense, 4 days ago:

Again, as I dozed for my few minutes of slowly waking up time that I dearly value every day, some hijinks were going on just on the other side of the door. I came out, and there were no dogs waiting for me, as there usually are, which was odd. Then, when they came running over, I noticed something odd on the floor in the corner by the living room. A wrapper?

"What the hell is that?" I pose to the criminals- the small one takes off, the big one hits the floor- a sure indicator something really wrong is going on. I take a few steps forward, get a better look at the main area, and suddenly cartoon style steam is coming out of my ears.

"WHAT THE F--K is this!!!!????"

The living room floor is littered with wrappers of many food items stolen from the (when I glance over and see the kitchen) WIDE OPEN pantry doors. I scream, I throw dogs in crates, I notice.....

it

is

all

CHOCOLATE

All of it, everything that they stole, had some form of chocolate in it. It was quite a few protein bar type things- all had chocolate in it- and a bag of Hershey's kisses. All had been fairly demolished. All wrappers had been shredded, and most likely ingested, as well. it had to have taken several trips from kitchen to living room to get it all there. Premeditation.

Now, in case anyone doesn't know- chocolate contains a chemical ingredient which is toxic to dogs. If your dog gets a hold of a singular chocolate chip- eh, not a big deal, might get sick, might not. Your dog eats an entire chocolate cake on it's own- could be fatal. Our ingestion level was certainly on the smaller end of things, but considering I couldn't tell precise amounts and who had eaten what, I called the vet immediately.

Well, ok, I waited a little while to clean up and call the husband who has had more dogs then me, and look up info online, but basically within 25 minutes I was on with the lovely lady at the vets office. We set up a date to bring the monsters in the moment they opened their doors.

While this was going on, I had Piper doing a small child style sugar high freak out which included tail chasing, charging me and trying to jump in my lap, running around, and barking at herself. Odie on the other hand was just lounging on the couch as if nothing had happened. I was unclear as to which was more disturbing.

I got them to the vet, and we decided they would stay there for the day and get to endure induced vomiting, charcoal feeds, and some long hours of making a mess. According to the Dr- evidence proved they were both guilty parties, and had earned this 'punishment' for their crimes. A full work day, and several hundred dollars later, everyone had a clean system and a nice medication hangover. They were sentenced to time served after that.

I'm not really sure if what some people have said upon hearing this story is true- that the dogs will know now not to do something like that. I honestly these are career criminals- they might slow down for a while, but given the right chance at the right time, they'd do it again in a heartbeat. Vomiting be damned, they sure seemed to be having fun.

Destruction of Property

OK, I'm warning you know, this is gross. Like- full on bodily function nasty. There is no getting around it. Some crimes are just disgusting - only adding to the severity of the crime, and making judgment all the easier. This is one of those times. If you are weak of stomach, or imagine things a little too well - you might just want to skip to the bottom.

Still here?

Right, good, 'cause this story is EPIC.

Really gross, but epic.

Last week, it was just me & the criminals for a few days as His Boy was out of town on a family trip. I was also nursing the tail end of a sprained ankle injury- walking mostly freely, but still using a brace situation and slightly limping. I had, on this particular day, been at work for almost 11 hrs (unwillingly, mind you), and had rushed home to let the dogs out of their crates, knowing that I'd been gone too long, and they were bound to be antsy. I give you this background so when the mental images start to form, you'll be able to factor in everything that was going on. Alone, gimpy, tired, hungry, stressed, and anxious- and that's just MY situation.

One last piece of set up info- the night before, Piper had woken me in the wee hours to be let out- something she hasn't done since her first night with us. I let her out, and she stayed out for about 10 minutes, so clearly she wasn't waking me for the fun of it- something had been bothering her. When she came back in, I put her back in her in her crate for the night and went back to bed.

Or so I thought. Apparently I hadn't latched the crate properly in my half asleep stupor, and she sneaked her way to the bedroom in the dark, scaring the hell outta me, and keeping me awake for at least an hour. Not her fault, but still disrupted a sleep cycle I was going to need that day.... unbeknownst to both of us.

So, ok, enough with the set up to this situation- let's get back to the story. I was home after a long, tiring day, with dinner on my mind, and some very anxious Pooches in their crates. I open the front door, hearing some "yay she's back" noises from both pups. Then it hit me- a smell the likes of which I'd only encountered a few times in my life.

Shit. In my house.

My eye first hits Odie- who had gotten sick in the crate a few weeks back- but he looked all clean and good to go. So, I pan over to Piper. She is not at all clean or good to go.

Her butt had exploded. A big John Woo style explosion.

There was crap all over her crate (the wire, open kind, not the enclosed plastic kind), completely covering her pillow, on the wall behind the crate, on the blanket that was draped over her crate, on the floor in front of her crate, and most noticeably totally covering her lower half and some of her face. Poor thing had clearly been in her crate this way for awhile, and had ended up lying down in it for lack of anything else to do.

I have literally never seen so much crap in one place in my life. Mainly because I've never had a dog that was this big, and therefore capable of generating that much. All I could think was "poor girl!" quickly followed by "oh god, she's COVERED in it- how do I get her out without getting it all over everything we own?"

Needless to say- the hunger issue I was having cleared right up.

So, after staring at her for a good couple of minutes and letting Odie out to end his torture, I did some fancy footwork, and specific grabbing, and got my poor crusty Piper out the door of the house to shake it off outside. Then the cleaning had to begin- the crate was also dragged outside- a trick considering the other side of the doorway housed a crusty pup who wanted back in. After a lot of maneuvering, some yelling, and acceptance of the fact that I was gonna get some on me, the crate was outside with the dog.

The floor washing and wall cleaning then commenced. This took a lot longer then I had figured it would, as every time I thought I was done, I'd find more to do. Seriously- I have no idea how she had housed this much excrement in her reasonably sized body.

Pillow, towels, blankets, and some of my clothes got put directly into the washing machine for the first of several cycles. Then I went out and tried to get the worst of the dried nasty off the dog- who was not interested in that procedure at all. I finally had to grab her, pick her up and carry her (so that she didn't touch anything that couldn't be cleaned up) into the bathtub. She then got washed in the least efficient bath in the history of dog baths. I was outside the tub, leaning in, trying not to put pressure on my bad foot, trying to grab her, splashing her with water, spraying her with shampoo and using my hands to just rub, scrub, deflake all the dried up crap on her.

Let's just say, we were both soaked and pissed by the end of that eternal 20 minutes.

She then got put in the back yard with her very anxious Odie-brother, and I headed out front to hose off the crate, and try to get it clean. At this point it was full dark out and I'm working with a motion light on the patio. I was gonna do the best I could and see how far I got. After about 30 minutes I got all of it, thanks to some more towels and yet another round of acceptance that I was gonna come in contact with dog diarrhea.

An hour and half, 2 runs of laundry, a stained and destroyed extension cord, a half bottle of bleach, a lot of clorox wipes, many gallons of water, a shower, and an adult beverage (large) later I was sitting on the couch. Piper was exhausted but acting completely normal. Clearly whatever it was had successfully worked its way out of her system by the end of the explosions. She seemed content to just be sitting in the house again, without being in the tub. Odie found the entire experience amusing, as he was just locked in the backyard with his sister for a long time.

I was less amused, and exhausted, and finally able to make dinner at 9:45 pm. I couldn't be too mad at the Criminal Piper, as her crimes were not in the least bit premeditated. Although, still crimes, as I will never be able to look at that section of the house the same way again.

Gangs

There are 2 dogs in the house, and 3 gangs that have worked their way into reality. There's the Dogs vs Humans territory battle, and the Small vs Big dog power struggle.

So far, I think the humans are losing their struggle. At the moment, the dogs clearly have run of the house. The Dogs, presented as a single unit, have the Leader and the Enforcer. Odie serves as Leader, Piper is the Enforcer. Odie is the one who comes up with grand schemes that result in things like rugs being pulled into different rooms then they were originally placed in. Piper is the one who then sits on it and looks at you like "what? this was here the entire time!" and then jumps up and punches you in the gut. This is how many shoes, a couple of bags, and a heating pad have all ended up in places that I just can not figure out how they got there, until I see teeth marks in them.

We, as humans, only keep in the fight with our thumbs, and our continual enforcement of dogs being in crates when we leave the house. If it weren't for that, I swear we'd both be spending our days finding birds to be chased, and cooking meats for our canine rulers. As it is, every day is a bit of a struggle. Odie is smart, and uses his Cute powers to get us to let our guards down. Next thing we know there's some sort of chaos happening. Piper is a good physical distracter- she's every where all the time, blocking the view of something untoward happening until it's too late.

Whats even more interesting though, if when the attention gets diverted from the interspecies struggle. When the dogs turn on each other- THAT'S when it gets good.

Odie is a bully. A 13 lb bully.

I never in a million years would have figured that.

Piper is a big solid lump of mass who won't move unless she really wants to- then, watch out. She will barrel thru just about any obstacle as if its not even there. If if the obstacle is another living creature.

She is a pushover.

Who is ruled by a bully.

Watching the 2 of them interact is kind of like watching a circus. Or an action film. Depending on the day.

Inevitably, Piper is sitting quietly, chewing on her feet, or just staring into space, or watching one of us do something. Suddenly- POW- a tiny ball of thunder has struck her, and is now chewing on some part of her. This is her training. She must decide what to do- Does she retaliate, or endure? It can go both ways, but either way, her leader has shown her yet again to always be on the alert, ready for action, because you never know where the attack is going to come from.

If she retaliates, the war has begun- the power struggle continues, and a LOT of faux growling, and body flipping will ensue. This battle royale can go from 2 minutes to 20, depending on how energetic the fighters, and if the humans are impressed by their fighting prowess. Because what is the point of fighting and gaining power, if no one sees you do it?

If she endures, then she must sit there, and take the attacks, which will not stop until she is provoked into some form of action. The Ghandi approach is to get up and walk away- a very effective method as she is twice the size of her attacker. The Big Dummy approach is to just sit there and get chewed on with the occasional mouthing in return. This is less wise because it prolongs the experience.

One way or the other, The Leader is re-establishing that he has the power to attack, and all she can do is react. It's true gang warfare in our living room. Or the backyard. Or the front patio. Or where ever we happen to have gone. So far, Odie continually wins these battles, as he is more determined to do so. I wait for the day when Piper gets fed up and finally wins. That'll be interesting, to be sure.

But I can't let my guard down, because the moment I do, they will once again join forces and do something like pull my shoe into the kitchen for no apparent reason. Then the balance of warfare will have shifted back to Dogs vs Humans, and I absolutely refuse to lose that one.

Mainly.

I mean, to a point I don't really care.

After all, I have thumbs, and all the food.

Escaping custody

http://pawcrimes.blogspot.com/2010/03/evading-arrest.html

That link will bring you to a previous entry made about Odie- the original felon- escaping and running like a mad man, putting his life in danger, until he was finally caught and brought back to justice. At the end of that entry I talked about how we'd established new routines to ensure it never happened again.

It happened again.

In the humans defense- our front gate is kinda wonky- and the latch doesn't work as well as it should. Of course, we know that and should factor it in when we come home, but..... as the saying goes "to err is human".

Here's what happened- His Boy (Odie's favorite; my husband) and I had gone to the gym together on a sunday morning. I officially got my butt kicked and we headed home. I came in the front gate- a bit worse for wear and apparently didn't knock the it fully shut. Opened the front door, let the dogs out of their crates- with the front door still open.

Can you see where this is going?

yeah, flashing neon sign at this point, eh?

Basically, Odie was on the front patio area, the wind blew the gate open just enough for his tiny frame to make it out, and about 30 seconds later my spidey senses started tingling. I leaned out to look for him, saw the gate ajar and took off.

Odie musta just been hanging out in the front, sniffing cat poo or something, 'cause as I went thru the gate, he was still on the driveway. He looked up, saw me rushing towards him and took off like a bullet.

NO!

Damn dog!

I took off as fast as I could and learned, yet again, that a 13 lb dog is exponentially faster then me. This is a depressing fact I will not dwell on here, but will happily woe my sorrows about at a later time.

My cheetah husband was about 20 seconds behind me, and passed me before I'd gotten 3 houses down the road- screaming at the now highly entertained felon. Even with a response that fast, he was having trouble catching up to the dog, who had put on the afterburners.

Seriously- how can something THAT small, run THAT fast? We should put him in a study or something- it was amazing.

At this point I'd slowed down, knowing full well I couldn't keep up and why bother trying, but I was still headed in the right direction, and becoming increasingly filled with terror at the proximity to a MAJOR road that was being gained. A lady came out from her house to see what the commotion was, worried for our tiny pooch. In the amount of time it took me to look over and register her, and her intent, my husband had worked magic.

Within 30 ft of the terror inducing road, on nothing but concrete, he had done a diving roll- grabbed the dog in mid air, and come back up to standing, dog in hands. Just like in the movies.

I

Shit

You

Not

It was nothing short of stunning.

The best part- no one got hurt!

The dog squeaked- most likely out of shock of being swooped up mid step by a human that had mili-seconds before not been next to him. The husband has a slight scrape on his knee and elbow- nothing even requiring bleeding. That's it. That was the extent of the damage done by a diving roll on a sidewalk, 30 ft from a road.

Are you freaking kidding me?

unreal.

Once we got home, Odie was pleased as punch to have gotten his little adventure out of his system. By that point there wasn't even a reprimand worth implementing- his little doggie brain was on to the next thing already. Our human brains were rebooted to realize how much we need to double check that blasted gate.

I still think the 2 men in my house have super powers- the canine one has super speed, and the human one has some sorta of speed/reflexes combo. If only they both used their powers for good..... damned evil little dog.

Possession of unregistered explosives

All weapons are supposed to be registered properly and in accordance with the law. It's hard to do when that weapon is attached to your face. A dog's nose can be a powerful tool in the right circumstances. We learned that this weekend.

So, we take the dogs on their first full family hike this past Saturday. We loaded everyone up into the car and headed into the nearby mountain. The goal was to get out, get some exercise, and get the dogs working for a while- see what happened. Odie had been on a hike with us before, and done really well. That little guy is made of batteries. Piper was the unknown in this equation, as well as the fact this this particular trail was challenging when we did it last time over a year ago, so we were eager to hit it again.

We started out with the dogs divided up to their appropriate humans. I was more then happy to let Piper drag me up the hill as much as she wanted to- why do the work when the dog is eager to do it? Odie and His Boy were behind us, happily trucking along, and making me feel like I had to keep up the pace.

About halfway up this very drastically inclined hill (wow, was it this bad last time we did this? this is kinda sucky hard) we run into a lot of dry brush along the trail. We're blazing through, pushing it all aside and keeping on the trail. The Dogs on the other hand, find all the new and interesting smells a lot of fun and keep sticking their faces into said dried brush. Having been through numerous eye infections with our previous dog, I was trying to keep an eye on this, make sure no one scratched their eyeballs.

What I hadn't factored in with Piper's enormous nose.

So, at one point we stopped to water everyone, and Piper's entire front half disappears into some shrubs. I let her sniff away, thinking she'd found yet another lizard to chase (our newfound favorite activity, chasing geckos), until she reappeared COVERED in dry brush bits and pieces. Individual petals, sticks, leaves, etc on just about every dry square inch of her front half.

And then

it began

Sneezing.

Such insanely violent sneezing that her entire body was involved. So many in a row that I lost count. It had to have been a full minute of her sneezing. At which point I figured we were in the clear and we moved on.

Nope.

not so much.

We had probably 10 more instances of the sneezing fits. She sneezed so hard she started foaming at the mouth. She sneezed so hard she had a snot trail coming from her nose and wrapped around her head. She sneezed so hard there was a Pigpen style dust cloud following her where ever she went. She sneezed so hard she was drooling.

Every sneeze was painful looking- it involved her entire body. She'd squint for a split second before it started, and sometimes even smack her head on the ground with the energy behind it. I swear if she were a human there would have been cold sweats involved.

Eventually we turned around and headed back to the car. The sneezing continued all the way back, and even happened a couple of times in the car. It was so pitiful and so gross all at the same time. At this point, I realized...... some of that dry brush was foxtail plants.

Crap.

Foxtail is a plant that is nothing but trouble. The stickers.... seeds... off shoots... whatever the hell they are, are barbed. Barbed things up noses..... not so great for doggie. That's most likely the reason behind the sneezing. Which is bad.

Well, we watched it for a day or so, and ended up in the vets office, where I found out she had most likely sneezed out whatever was bothering her. I also learned that foxtail is INSANELY dangerous for dogs. Much more so then I ever thought. I mean, talk about death by a thousand cuts- these stupid things can literally enter their blood stream and cause all kinds of problems.

So thankfully, the sneezing ended, the foxtail left on it's own accord (although how it could have stayed up there with that level of force trying to get it out, is beyond me) and I learned just how dangerous a dogs nose can be. Especially when loaded with natural explosives.

Makes me wonder, if she had sneezed out the foxtail while I was bent over looking at her nose- could it have flown into my face, worked its way into my bloodstream and causing all kinds of trouble? Possibly.

It's possible, her nose could have killed me.

Weapon, right there.

Someone should know about that.

Self defense

With every new dog, comes new experiences and new challenges. Sometimes this can be a pleasure, sometimes it's a hurdle you have to convince yourself to jump over. Mainly, it's a little bit of both. Especially with dogs from a shelter environment, since you never know what their background is- regardless of the paperwork, you never REALLY know. There could have been abuse, threats, mistreatment of many kinds- or there could have been a truly nice family who just couldn't handle the dog for some reason.

Our new girl, Piper, has adjusted really well in a lot of ways. She learned her name within a few hours, she decided to trust me that first day- at least a little bit, with many gains since then. She and Odie have gotten along like a house afire since the first day, and she figured out how to use the dog door within moments of getting her Cone of Shame off.

One thing she hasn't totally learned yet, is to trust us to decide who gets to come into the house/property- she still feels like it's her job to protect the homestead from strangers. Some of the tricks she has learned to accomplish this task include standing on the back of the couch and looking out the front windows (she got that one from her brother), as well as peering through the slits in the backyard fence to spy on the neighbors. Both of these have become fairly entertaining to watch, I have to admit. She's also become quite good at sounding off when something feels wrong. She's got a good strong bark to her, and doesn't use it like a lunatic- unlike some other canines I live with. A few distinct barks, with maybe some rumbling growls thrown in, and she's made her opinion known.

In some ways, I kind of like this trait. I mean, who wouldn't want a natural deterrant in the house? She sounds threatening, and no one needs to know that she's locked in a crate at night. The problem is when people actually come over to the house, having been invited, and her doggie brain just shorts out.

We had a few friends come to the house a few days ago. They have been to our house any number of times and know to just come on in. We did not even think twice about this, until we started to introduce the new dog, and she lost it. She snapped and did a mini lunge. I feel pretty strongly that she was not trying to actually bite, but more just reacting and trying to get this strange person to give her some space. At this point we couldn't get to out of this mind state of "strangers! must protect! go now!" and she kept growling even when we had the new people give her treats.

Seriously, she took the treats, and then growled some more.

That's just rude.

"I'll take that, now leave"

So, we learned we need to introduce people to the house environment differently at this point. At least until she's decided that we are the ones to determine who is friend and who is foe. We also learned that once she's in that state of mind, putting her in her crate does nothing but poke the bear. We tried that to get her to calm down, and it just made her worse. When people came by her crate she went even more mental then before.

I feel bad for her, I mean, clearly she felt she needed to stop something unnerving from happening. There's no trust there yet. At the same time I wanted to clock her one- I have never had a dog bite a guest, and it is unacceptable. Made me wonder for a moment if we'd made the wrong choice. Then I remembered, she was left mainly to her own devices for the first year of her life- very little human contact. No wonder she was put on edge when strangers just barrel into 'her yard' unannounced. Part of it was our fault too- we should have realized this was a new thing for her, and taken steps to lessen the impact.

Basically, she ended up spending the evening in the back yard by herself- with us occasionally checking on her and making sure all was well. She could see and hear us the entire time, as we could her.

If only she could have seen her little brother in action. That slut spent the evening literally walking from lap to lap getting cuddles from everyone that was there one at a time. I wish I could even say that was an exaggeration, but no, he climbed from one chair to another, into laps. The most shameless display of dog ever. If Piper had seen that maybe she would have realized that the people there were good, friendly people who's only ill intent was to good naturedly mock each other. And damage their livers with beer intake- although that being 'ill intent' is arguable.

I know she's thinking she's protecting herself, and us, but man- somehow we have to figure out how to let her know that's not her function in this new family. We have people over a decent amount, and she's gonna have to learn to deal with that fact.

How cool would it be if we could train her to only let certain people in? I mean, think- to never again have to put up with someone you don't like very much coming to a party you are hosting?

Hm.... Maybe I've figured out the key to this...... Can dogs understand photographs?

Domestic Disturbance

If you've been reading at all, you now know there is a new dog in the house. New-er even. She is bigger and younger and a tiny bit more damaged (emotionally) and therefore even more work then the last new dog was. Fortunately a lot of energy is burned by chewing on her brother, so we have that going for us this time around.

Very early into the game we had a moment of realization of something that had never crossed our minds. This younger, bigger dog was going to take cues from the smaller dog. She's learned things like jumping up on us to get our attention. Not a big deal when you're dealing with a 13lb dog. Kind of a big deal when the dog is 35lbs on a skinny day.

So, dogs don't understand that the size difference means there should be behavior modification?
Right.
Ok.
They don't reason through things the way we do.....
I knew that.
Damn.

Another super fun thing she's learned is to have a total mental breakdown every time we pull out the harnesses and leashes for a walk. Again, not that big a thing with a small dog- mainly just annoying. When you're a big kid, that episode you have can mean things being knocked off of shelves and carpets being tossed around like so much garbage.

We go through this EVERY day, at least twice. Once in the we hours of the morning, which is charming beyond words, and once after work. The good thing is the after work walk is usually tempered by a play session in the yard, making it marginally easier to get the 2 dogs all pulled together and out the door. But first thing in the morning, when I have literally just rolled out of bed to take them, it is absolutely insane. They're both hopping, whining, twisting, and in general not staying still. This makes it almost impossible to do the things they are so excited for us to do. I have been bruised, and knocked in the teeth in my efforts to actually get them out the door.

at 6am
are you serious?
come ON! Just stop moving for 40 seconds.

There is a LOT of yelling in our house at 6am these days.

She responds pretty well to approaching her with a calm energy, it calms her a bit. You can get her to at least sit down that way.

Then, out of nowhere, comes the tiny firecracker of a dog.

He's all wiggles and excitement and "YAY OUTSIDE!!!" and then She's gone again.

Into the mental zone.

I had her.

for 20 seconds, I had her.

Basically, we've both been a little beat up by this exuberance. Our throw rugs have been more then a little beat up. Our schedules have been eternally disrupted, with a new walk schedule, and everything taking twice as long to accomplish. I'm considering rearranging certain things to make it harder for a much bigger dog to get to. To say our domestic bliss (such as it was, granted) has been upended is a mild description. Not to mention my sleep schedule. If only she knew, the last thing you want to do is mess with my sleep schedule.....

Personal Misdemeanor

This blog has been primarily about the new dog in our lives and how he is a felon in the court of law ruled over by Me. This has lead many to believe this dog is in risk of losing his life and/or housing at any given moment. Despite all my bluster- and legitimate complaints- this is not true. No matter how many times I tell him "I will open the front door and wish you well, buddy" there is never a chance I would actually ever do that. In reality. In my dreams, maybe, given a bad day.

In all honesty, Odie isn't that bad a kid. He has a special knack for doing really bizarre, and creative, things that make me scream on a fairly regular basis, but he could (and has been ) a LOT worse. Don't worry though- as long as he retains this special skill for bizarre-ness, I will log it and report in.

Today's entry isn't so much about him though. It's more about me. And something I decided to do recently. With the loving support of my co-conspiritor: the husband (otherwise known as Odie's The Boy) who encouraged every step of this decision making process. I feel the need to mention that now, as he occasionally has maybe second guessed it since.

What I did, I actually am proud of, with only moments of regret about 3x a day. Sometimes those moments are longer, sometimes they are brief. Again, even with moments of " what the hell is going on here?" I promise to never open the front door and wish anyone well. Other then house guests who are leaving anyway.

So, what is all this about?

We rescued a second dog.

yep.

I know.

Sounds insane, given everything.

This time it was different though. It was planned out (to an extent) and carefully considered (to a nauseating fault) and it was my choice all the way around.

We happened into our new girl, Piper, while at a humane society to meet some other dogs. Those other dogs were either not there or very clearly the wrong match for us from the first moment I laid eyes on them. So we wandered around, and loved on anyone who wanted some, and considered a few candidates who took us by surprise. As we were about to leave, I stopped and said- I think I wanted to go back and look at one of the dogs in the back for some reason. So we went to the back and saw a dog who hadn't been there earlier, and we were both very mildly drawn to her.

The rest of the story is involved, but basically it ends in the fact that 3 days later this very dog was in our house. She had been given a new name (thanks to my friend AG, who came up with it) and had a new brother who was quite literally half her size. That was last week. Since then, I have learned the harsh lesson that not only will Piper NOT be a calming influence on Odie, but I now have a second felon in my house.

Crap.

Not the intent at all.

What I can hope for now is that the humans in this scenario find some sort of zen, and learn more about training a high energy Mid-sized dog. I also hope that the dogs form a gang of their own and learn to exert the energy they both have amongst themselves. 'Cause that was a lot of the point of getting s second dog- providing an energy burn/ bestie for the first dog- making him happier, and us more able to move about the cabin as we saw fit.

Life throws stuff at you, no matter how well you think you've planned, or what factors you've taken into consideration. The best you can do is change your plan when that stuff lands, and trust in yourself from there. I had planned on finding a second dog who would be more of what I thought I wanted. Instead I brought home a dog who LOOKED like what I wanted, but mainly was just a different version of fuzzy thunder in my house. It'll be frustrating, and tiring, and challenging. It will also be fun, and silly, and joyful. I will regret making life more complicated, but I will also enjoy the comedy that ensues whenever you have 2 animals running amok. There will be more crimes committed- only now there will be a choice to be made over who gets blamed for it.

Right now, the blame is all on me. I did this to us. I brought her home, our femme fatale. I committed this crime to our family. I'm not sure if anyone (other then my husband who lets them out in the morning and after work) has decided it's a terrible crime. Jury is still out on that part of it.

**sidenote- both of the dogs currently in our house would be dead right now if a law is overturned in California. They both exceeded the proposed time limit by leaps and bounds, and we never would have found them. It's hard enough for innocent animals to find their way out of the shelters here, taking time away from them makes it even less likely for that to happen. To find out more, read this: http://www.animallawcoalition.com/public-shelters/article/952

or research on your own.

Thanks for giving me my 10 seconds on a soap box.

Hijacking

I have lost command of my legs. The dog now has control. He has hijacked my lap.

It's weird, but true.

See, the dog LOVES being in someone's lap. Yes, indeed making him a lap dog. Not something I ever thought I would have. I mean, it's one thing to seek the affection of being in a lap, and then moving on, but this is beyond a desire for him. It has become an obsession.

Anytime I am on the couch, the dog is on my lap to some degree or another. Usually under a blanket. If there is a blanket available and it is not covering his face, he will burrow under until it is. But some part of him will always be on my lap.

Every now and again I will shove him off on His Boy "take your dog please, I can't feel my foot", but at some point or another he weasels his way back over. Now, let's say I need to get up for some reason, to get a drink, to pee, to do anything else..... the dog will stay in my lap until the very last second. I have dropped him on the floor on numerous occasions as a result.

That is dedication.

As cute as this all sounds, and admittedly there is a degree of charm to this, it can also be really annoying. My range of motion is restricted constantly, portions of my legs fall asleep on a fairly regular basis, getting comfortable is amended by working around where the dog will end up, and if he will stay there. This is far from the traditional "its been a long day, I'm gonna get comfy on the couch for little while and just relax" state of affairs I'm used to. The moment I go to sit on the couch, a little firecracker has jumped up, and is at the ready for The Lap to become available for him.

what I wouldn't give for just a few moments of getting into position on my own first. Without tangling with a tiny, yet very determined, creature. One would say- 'He's so small, just move him!" which makes sense, but does not work, I've tried. I'll move him and before I'm even done with recoiling my arm back, he's already put himself back where he wanted to be. I told you he was determined.

So, as it stands, I have completely been Lap Hijacked. Someone else has taken control, unauthorized, and I am just along for the ride at this point.

Breaking and Entering

With a new dog, there is a period of time with a lot of boundaries in the house- this time allows for everyone to get to know and trust each other to varying degrees. For the humans it allows for time to learn if the dog will destroy certain things, or urinate on stuff, which helps determine how long the boundaries survive. For the dog its time to learn who is setting the rules in the house, and therefore where they fall in the new pack, which helps determine if they can relax in their new environment.

We had set up boundaries that included not being allowed in certain rooms- most notably the bedroom. The last thing I wanted was the new dog peeing all over where the old dog had spent a lot of his time, or on my things, which would cause me to totally lose my mind. So, no bedroom. Ever. Not even if you're being cute about it.

Which he tried.

Time and again.

If the bedroom door wasn't 100% closed and latched (which is harder then you'd think, given we have 50 yr old door handles) then a little nose would poke in, followed quite briskly by a wriggling body who was convinced all your shouting was for nothing. This happened to me several mornings- since my husband leaves for work first, and I sleep for a bit longer. I would scream and gesture wildly, even get out of bed- Odie just lowered himself down and low-crawled as close to me as he could. One particularly bold morning, he jumped on the bed before I heard him and scared the crap outta me. My husband heard my terrified shout (you try not screaming when you're dead asleep and a living thing lands on your legs with no warning) and came running only to find a wiggling mass trying to lick my face and me desperately trying to shove this mass off of me so I could see what it was.

Needlesstosay- he thought this was hilarious.

I did not.

At the time. In hindsight, I gotta give the little guy credit for tenacity.

The bedroom remains off limits though. I'm no fool.

but neither is the dog.

He has made it his mission in life to find opportunities to sneak into the bedroom and catch a nap on the big squishy bed he's not allowed on. His favorite time to do this is while I'm in the shower getting ready for work.

After weeks of the dog not even trying to get into the bedroom (after earlier weeks of failed attempts) I had grown a bit lax about making sure the door was closed and latched. It was never a problem. Until one day.

I opened the bathroom door and heard a thud and then some scrambling, I leaned out and saw a tail tip round the corner. Dammit! He'd made it in! I checked the bed, and sure enough- warm spot on the pillow. I yelled and realized there was nothing I could do since he'd already corrected himself, so I went back in the bathroom to complete the work prep rituals. Including drying my hair- making all sound outside the room impossble to hear.

When that was done I headed for the bedroom again, noticed the door was much more open then it had been and BOOM- caught in the act. A very small dog, laying on the bed like it was his to claim. Instead of jumping up and running away, knowing he'd been caught and was guilty, The brat just sunk further into the covers and rolled over showing me his partial belly. he was essentially saying "I know you get to be the boss, and I did something wrong, but take pity on a tiny dog". i took enough time to snap a picture on my phone (evidence) and then shooed him off the bed and spoke sternly about how this was not an option.

The picture was sent to the man behind it all "look what YOUR dog did!", building my case for this dog needing some obedience training. The reply to that officially was one of 'couragous, but stupid'. I'm sure the unofficial one was a howling laugh and then a realization of how mad I probably was and why.

Since that morning, The dog has established a cycle- he'll go a few weeks without so much as an inkling that he'd ever possibly consider going into the bedroom without permission, then one day, BAM- fuzzy butt on my sheets. He's smart enough to lull you into thinking he's learned his lesson, but stupid enough that about half the time he breaks into the room, there's someone in there, leaving to goal of the break-in unaccomplished- no bed time.

I have to admit the dog is a prize winning sleeper and would probably be a decent sharer of bed space, but I just don't have any desire for that. So, he will have to satisfy himself with the occasional momentary break in, and inevitable punishment that comes with it. Serial offender with this crime, I can tell.

Disturbing the Peace

Small dogs are notorious for their high pitched ear drum ravaging barks. Odie lives up to that reputation with vigor. He has his throaty gurgle noise that comes before full growls, his full growl mainly sounds like a little kid trying to sound like a big kid. His alert bark which comes when someone (human only) approaches the house, it's a sharp clipped bark that will make you jump a mile if you don't see it coming. Then there's the "theres a dog outside I can't get to who looks like fun and I want get to them and play" bark with is a whine/bark/growl/fear noise all rolled into one. This will seriously shake fillings from your head (as my mom would say) as it hits a pitch that is just this side of glass shattering, and goes on for a good long while.

Most often, the bark we get to witness is the "unknown presence entering yard uninvited" bark. It is used for humans, dogs, the neighbors cat, squirrels, birds, oppossums, yard workers, postmen, trash bags floating on the wind, leaves being rustled by the wind, someone on their phone in their yard next door, etc.

So yeah, we hear it a lot.

What's really awful is our neighbors hear it a lot. A damn lot. Every time we let the little felon out into the yard, he does it. 7am on a saturday- BARK BARK BARK. 2am on a saturday BARK BARK BARK. 11pm on a Wednesday BARK BARK BARK.

Less then charming to say the least.

We do our best to put an end to it as quickly as possible, but by the time we hear him and get to the back door to get him to quit it, he's already pissed someone off I'm sure. It pisses me off and he is ours. I can't imagine the 8 year old boy next door is doing anything but trying to sleep at these hours. Hell, I want to be asleep at these hours most of the time.

Odie gets let out, all bursting with energy, goes charging across the yard to where he has previously seen an intruder and starts barking. I'm fairly convinced that half the time there's nothing actually there, he's just making sure that he's ruling the non-existent roust. And because of where we live, we have possums and outdoor cats visiting our yard often. They had grown confident with the last dog who was too old and deaf to really care if anyone shared his grass. We have pictures of him laying in the sun with birds mere feet away and everyone was groovy. Odie is here now, and he's trying to change that all.

He has learned that if he hears the back door open, he needs to cut it out. He does not want us getting all the way to him if he's still barking. That is a sure fire way to get put back in the house for a while, where is the fun in that? So now as soon as we open the door to yell, he shuts up and just looks at us, all "it wasn't me! what?" as if we didn't know any better.

Short of buying our neighbors ear plugs and some apology cookies, there's not a lot we can do about this. It's his instinct to sound off. I just wish he sounded a bit scarier if he was going to make all this noise. I mean, really, who is scared of a high pitched call that sounds vaguely like a very heavy squeaky door? Not the squirrels, clearly.

Aggravated Assault

I am pretty sure Odie is a really really dangerously smart dog. Which is less then thrilling in some ways, because it will always be a test of wills with a smart dog. We will always be working to stay one step ahead of him with each new thing. He will always challenge us to get what he wants from us.

You know how I know this?

His post surgical cone to prevent him from getting to his wounds while they heal.

He has figured out how to use it as a weapon.

Here he is the first day after surgery, when he was still sore and just totally pitiful:

Since then things have changed. He is pitiful no more. Lethargic and mopey no more. He is back to his old rocket fueled self- bolting around the house and the yard like his butt is on fire.

All. The. Time.

Stitches be damned.

What is new is the fact that the cone is still there, and he HATES it. He hates it more then any other dog I have ever seen hate the Cone of Shame. I have watched him throw literal hissy fits because of the thing. He will Stare at offending trees and walls that aren't normally troublesome, but now are. Every time we take it off for some reason, he is just this side of stomping his foot and whining at us when we put it back on.

I think this has caused his little brain to go into overdrive and try to figure out how to get us to take it off and never look at it again. And he may have found a way.

Odie has taken to following both of us VERY closely, but just behind our legs, so with every step there is a SCCRAPPPEEEE of the cone on the back of calves or knees. I still haven't figured out how he positions himself to get both of my legs while I walk without actually slamming into me. It is aggravating and a bit painful when you have shorts or track pants on. It's like having a really long, hard plastic tail attached to you, smacking your legs with each step.

He's been doing this for days now. At one point over the weekend I stopped walked and yelled at him to give me "some damn space" which sent His Boy (my husband) into a fit of giggles while looking at me oddly. Until it happened to him a couple of hours later. Then it wasn't so weird anymore.

There's even a distinct noise that comes with the rubbing of plastic cone against skin. It's sorta like the sound of corduroy pants, only softer, and followed by "Dammit Odie!" every few steps.

You take the cone off, and he gives you plenty of room to walk. You put the cone on, suddenly all the skin on the back of your leg is rubbed raw. This can't be an accident, it just can't. It is premeditated and cruel. He has figured this out and run with it. If he has, if he is that smart, we need to start being more secure with our banking information. For now, I'll just be wearing sturdier pants and sitting down more often.

Possession

Altered states can be many things: Dangerous, relaxing, uplifting, depressing, giddy, tearful, and more. But mainly, it can be kind of hilarious.

Odie had his surgery to remove the bits we discovered, and he does not need, the other day. It was more involved then the normal neuter as his bits were hiding in his belly, so his pain meds lasted a LONG time. All day in fact. But let me start from the beginning.

Dropping him off that morning went fine- his little trusting self walked to the back of the vet hospital with a tech he'd never met before a smidge apprehensive, but mostly curious. Poor kid had no idea what was coming. Many hours later, my husband went to pick him up, and apparently he and his brand new Cone of Shame made it halfway down the ramp to the front desk when....

BLERGH

Barf- all over his cone and the floor.

Was it the excitement of seeing His Boy (as I now call my husband in reference to the dogs pick of favorite human) or just the surgical drugs wearing off an empty stomach? Either way, our kid made a lasting impression, to be sure.

So they walked him to the back again, this time to clean him up. He came back out in the arms of the vet herself, and she held him while going over all the outpatient information. I found that absolutely charming.

The boys headed home, which is a blessedly short trip, and Odie got to rest up in his bed which had kindly been put in the middle of the living room by His Boy. I was doing my best to get home as fast as possible, knowing that my husband had to leave for class soon. Sadly, traffic didn't seem to know about this and slowed me down considerably. The incredibly blazed pup ended up alone in the house for about 30 minutes.

When I finally arrived, this staggering, stoned out of his mind pooch came wobbling my way, making an unholy whine and cry noise that broke even my cold heart. He came right up, sat on my foot (swaying a bit) and cried for a literal 5 minutes. I'm pretty sure it was a combination of fear at being alone in an altered state, pain from the surgery, excitement to see me, and just general confusion. I rubbed him until he calmed then encouraged a rediscovery (since his reality was shifting pretty rapidly still) of the cozy bed provided.

The next 2 hours of the evening were spent with him curled up in his bed, occasionally looking up as I moved around- but unable to really focus on me. I felt so bad for him, because nothing in his system was working right, but at the same time, the obvious tape delay in mental processing was really friggin funny. A pitiful funny, but funny nonetheless.

He fell asleep with his eyes open several times. He found his foot once and was very confused about it for a couple of seconds. He was unnerved at me putting a blanket over his shivering little form, because apparently walking right towards him didn't process, and my touch was jarring. Grass outside seemed to be the most foreign thing in the world, and why was I making him stand in it? Everything was seen through a haze of meds and lack of food. Poor kid made me laugh about 15 times with all of this.

The next morning, he was doing much better. Progress continued with the slow and fearful introduction of food. Last thing anyone needed was more barfing in the cone. Food stayed down, and first batch of meds went reasonably well considering its a liquid being forced upon a dog who doesn't like the smell of it. Now our biggest challenge is keeping the firecracker contained. 2 weeks of limited movement is tough on a highly active, very jumpy tiny dog.

Kinda makes me wish I had some of the meds he was stoned on that first day.

Vandalism

One of the most disgusting habits of dogs, that dog lover and haters alike will agree is pretty gross, is when they roll in crap they find. There's tons of theories why they do this, but basically, it's just really gross to deal with.

Our felon did this not once, not twice, but THREE times last week.

In our back yard.

then ran into the house with crap smeared all down him.

Nasty.

The first 2 offenses were after work/ in the evening, and he'd come running into the house and onto a couch- which we blessedly keep covered in blankets- when one of us discovered a discoloration on his side that stank to high heaven. Oh man, was he pleased with himself, rolling in poo is awesome!!

Until you have to get a bath because of it. Then it's not so much fun, man.

Fortunately, neither one of those moments involved having to wash anything but the criminal himself. I figured that was punishment enough since he seems to think water is actually a form of torture. He's a smart dog, he'll have made the connection after the second time.

Not so fast- The worst offense was the 3rd time. This happened over the weekend, and was AFTER we thought we'd gotten rid of the source of the rolling material.

Sunday afternoon, he was out back, and we were on the couch watching TV. Odie comes hauling ass in (as he almost always does) and jumps on top of us on the couch. This seems cute and silly, until I sit up and realize he is COVERED in shit.

COVERED

There was not a square inch of him that didn't have some form of crap on him.

My helpful husband starts cracking up laughing at my yelling "Oh my god, he's covered in shit! what the hell?!" and I start to try and figure out where to grab him to get him off the couch. There was no place, he was disgusting. I grab a towel, wrap him in it and grab the dog off of the couch, and tell the cackling husband that he best get in gear since he's the one who has to take care of this. Not so funny now, is it?

Bathwater starts running, and I stand there, holding the blessedly small dog in a towel, at arms reach like he was a ticking bomb. There is much discussion about exactly how bad he stinks. It is on a level I could not even imagine before this. I have smelled some stinky crap in my day- dog owners get used to that- but this was unreal. It was atomic crap. Eye watering crap. Throw out everything he touched even if it is clean crap. Move to a different house crap.

Bath achieved, everything Odie had even looked at pre-bath got shoved into the wash. I was taking no chances with this. Then, the search began for the source. We were walking through the yard with slow deliberate steps, looking at every clump of mud (which were many as it had rained the day before) and every overturned leaf. The dog thought this was a hilarious good time and kept running between us. A fun game to play to burn off the excitement of surviving a bath yet again.

At this point we think we found the culprit crap, and disposed of it thusly. I really hope so anyway, because I can not deal with another round of Stinky Dog, varsity level.

Smuggling of goods

So, you know how you adopt a dog and they won't let you take them until they've been fixed? It's harder to do that when the little felon's balls never descended in the first place.

Yep, our dog's got balls.

You just can't see them.

Cause they're all up in his belly still.

Hiding.

Basically, the "must be neutered" rule only applies when you can see them. Otherwise the inspection process consists of someone looking between their legs and saying "looks good" and then they get processed out.

We now have a dog who must be put through a fairly invasive surgery to first find both and then remove both testicles. His lower abdomen will be torn up pretty well, and we're looking at a good solid 2 weeks of recovery including pain killer, possible sedatives, and (I assume) antibiotics to prevent infection.

One key thing you can't do with an unfixed dog- boarding. We have a trip coming up in a month and had planned on boarding him so he could have fun and be social while we were gone. This is in theory better for him then the stay at home method we used for the last dog who was completely anti-social. So, instead of taking some time and getting the surgery done when we get back and having plenty of time to factor in unforeseen complications, we have to rush and get it done this week.

My time just got even more assumed by things outside myself, and my wallet is now shivering in fear of the damage about to be done to it. Hopefully the upside will be that after this surgery there will hopefully be less Sexual Harassment (see earlier entry) and maybe less marking in new places. A decline in both of these activities would be a much welcomed change.

After the E-Collar (the cone of shame) stress, the additional fees of a dog sitter to come and check on him for a few days and let him out, the monumental fees of a fairly major surgery for the runt, 2 weeks of restricted movement and probably no trips to the park making him totally looney tunes, trying to get a not very food motivated dog to take pills a few times a day, the changing his crate back to the larger one which took up most of the free space in the living room, and just general mayhem post surgery, I have the possibility of things getting slightly better to look forward to.

Awesome.

All this because I noticed something strange on his belly and found reports online of testicles not being fully removed during neuter procedures. I'm glad we took him in, and really like the new vet, but good gods! So far, the penalty for smuggling seems to be harshest yet.

Evading Arrest

I don't know if people from other parts of the country have his as a common occurrence, but here in SoCal we have a regular feature on the news- Ridiculous Car Chase. It's something we treat with reverence and watch obediently. We always wonder though "where does he think he's going, there are helicopters over him....." You just know no matter how he runs, he's gonna get caught and arrested, and running just made it 40 times worse.

Now, when a small dog finds a way around your leg blockade to break out of the yard and take off down the road like his butt is on fire- it's a different thing altogether.

I say this because that is exactly what happened with our little felon yesterday.

As I was going to the front yard to get something out of my car, Odie leaped over my leg and took off. I took off after him in my bare feet as fast as I could, figuring I'd catch him before the end of the block as I have a couple of times in the past. Not this time, he was bound and determined to explore the world on his terms and at a speed I have never seen him accomplish before.

My initial annoyance very quickly turned to flat out fear as he got closer and closer to the very major 4 lane road we live off of. Especially since the further he got from me, the less energy I had to run full tilt (I'd already done 4 miles that morning, and was not able to hit fill speed for very long). Thankfully my much sprier husband had heard me yelling and taken off behind me. Even in flip flops, he was able to catch up and surpass me when my lungs failed.

Odie miraculously made it across the 4 lane road at full tilt with out being hit by a car- we have no idea how. I turned back and went for my car, my husband ran with him and tried to catch him still.

You know how dogs love to play chase by stopping for a second, and then as soon as you get within arms reach, take off again? That is way less charming when you are terrified they will be hit by a car or you will never see them again. This is the tactic that was used for a good quarter mile.

Fortunately his male dog need to pee on something every 30 ft kicked in and he got nabbed. It was an absolutely anxiety ridden, adrenaline pumped 5-7 minutes. I didn't know if I should be glad or furious when I drove up to see man carrying dog, both looking peeved for different reasons. I was exhausted, scared, and disappointed in my ability to keep up, because what if I'd been alone and this happened?

New policies have been put in place within our household to make sure the likelihood of this happening again is lessened. I will work on my sprints at the gym a bit harder now that I have another reason for it. The escapee had a grand old time exploring and running unhindered for a little while. My husband had one hell of a sore leg after running that hard and fast in flip flops (not advisable BTW). We all survived, but if I never have to do that again, I would be just fine with it.

Sexual Harassment

Some of the things dogs do may make us a little ick-ed out, but it is just part of their process of social interaction, or hygene or whatever. That's just the reality of the interspecies connection. They don't ever fully understand us, we will never fully understand them. That's ok. I don't really want to think like a dog, and I'm fairly certain I don't want them to tell me about their thoughts.

One of the things dogs do that we find...... questionable.... is humping. Odie, the new dog in my house who refuses to leave, you remember him? Yeah, he LOVES humping. He does it all the time.

This is something that happens at the dog park just about every weekend. Sometimes the other dog involved thinks it's a fun little game and just goes with it. Sometimes the other dog involved is smart enough to avoid it in the first place. Sometimes it generates a fun little game of chase that can go on long enough to diminish the desire. Almost always it is unsolicited and Odie is the only one who thinks it's fantastic.

He humps EVERYONE. They don't want it, they don't ask for it, and he does it anyway. He's like the stereotypical drunk frat boy who thinks everyone wants his smokin hot bod, when really they are all avoiding his stinky self. He keeps making the move, figuring someone will be into it eventually.

No.

NO one is into it.

You are drunk.

Stop it already.

I mean, I realize that in the dog world it means something else altogether, but it's still totally humiliating. No one wants their dog to be the one who imposes himself on everyone else. His terrier nature does not help this situation. He tends to fixate on other dogs he wants to play with. If they avoid the humping, he will just keep trying. There has even been times when he gets going into the hump, the dog he's aiming for has moved, and he ends up humping the air of the space they had previously occupied. That's not even doing it right.

Sigh.

This is not a situation limited exclusively to the animal kingdom. Nope, he has at least attempted to hump everyone who has entered the house and stayed for more then 5 minutes. Well, except for me, I think i'm the only one who has avoided it. If that indicates a slight fear of me- I am SO fine with that. Thrilled even. Everyone else has to be very understanding of dog quirkiness or they will be very surprised when at some point he's being sweet and I end up screaming and squirting water at him, and most likely them. There is a lot of water squirting in our lives now.

This is not a characteristic that is getting me to feel "yay! great dog! let's keep him!" It just keeps me solidly in the "why is the crazy person in my house?" camp. I mean, really, who wants to have the dog that would be in some sort of 12 step program if he were a human?

Assault

So, this little dog who has found his way into our lives has this funny little habit of jumping right at/onto you with little to no regard for the fact that a supersonic 13 lbs can hit you in the gut with the same impact of a hard thrown bowling ball.

it's kind of hilarious, and kind of awful all at the same time.

I mentioned he is part Jack Russell terrier, right? Well, if you don't know anything about that breed they are tiny little muscle machines. They are ratters, so they are built to low crawl underground at high speeds to catch what they are going after. This means they have legs that are compact, but highly muscled. This makes them good jumpers. Too good a lot of the time.

So, considering our pretty tiny living room, when Odie feels the need to join you on the couch (a trick he came with and we have absolutely no hope of breaking) and wants to do it quickly, he just jumps straight for you. We also have couches on opposing walls, so he will be on one, hit the ground and jump for yours in one fluid motion that can be hard to track with the human eye. This almost always results in a small, but highly charged, dog landing directly in the softest part of the human body- the stomach.

Sometimes you see it coming and can prepare by either tensing the muscles, and creating some sort of impact control, or by doing a weird kind of catch thing with your hands that slows him down just enough. It sorta looks like you're 8 and in your first game of dodgeball it terms of hand position and facial expression, but sometimes it works.

Occasionally, his aim is off and he lands what we call a "junk punch". This is where his teeny tiny little paws land in what I'll chose to call the 'bathing suit area', and is immediately followed by a loud grunt from the chosen human landing pad. There have been countless times in our house over the past few weeks where this noise will be heard from another part of the house by someone safe from the landing and proclaimed "Junk punch!" with alarming accuracy.

Now, this trait can be charming at times. These leaps of faith happen just about every morning with me. I come out from bed and turn on the news, ready to watch for a little while to let my brain get going for the day. Still in pajamas, and always headed straight for the couch and a blanket, it is my morning routine. Odie has wormed his way into this routine by waiting for me to get the blanket pulled up and ready for snuggling, then he dives in under the blanket, and on my lap. This happens in the amount of time it takes to pull a blanket over yourself. It's literally a blur most of the time, but he settles in nicely and there we stay until I get up for breakfast.

This routine has become so familiar to the little jumping bean that even at different points of the day, if I hold up the blanket, he will do his famous 2 couch leap to get under it. Now if I could only get him to do it without making me feel like I've been punched every time, we'd be making progress.

Home Invasion

I'm starting this, uncertain if anyone will ever see it, because I've been told that the stories I've been telling recently are entertaining, and interesting. So I figured if I could pull them together, maybe other people would enjoy them too. But let's see if it actually comes together first.

Basically, the break down is this:

We had a dog I loved dearly for almost 9 years when he passed away last fall. He was fabulous in so many ways, but as he aged, and time took it's toll, being his caretaker became a pretty intense activity. His walking became somewhat labored, so we built ramps for him to be able to get into the yard by himself. His bladder control became much weaker, so we resigned ourselves to multiple accident cleanings per day. His appetite became minimal, so we bought him expensive food, or gave him ours, or made him things specially to keep weight on him. He was up to 4-5 pills per day, and walks that were a fraction of what they used to be.

Taking care of our beloved pooch was almost a full time job. One we took on lovingly, if not always joyfully. Cleaning pee for the 4th time in a day is no one's idea of fun, no matter how much you love the pee-er.

Then one day, our new job was grief, and that too became a full time job for a while. Death is a rough and strange thing. Even when you know it's closer then you'd like, and creeping ever faster, it's still a shock to the system and affects every damn thing you do. Your world lurches, and now you're a new person. I was reeling, and aching for my pal.

A few weeks later, I wanted to spend some time with other dogs, just get my head around the joy of the creatures for a while. Remember how great they can be, and how full of fun. I suggest we go to a very large organized adoption fair one day- get some puppy love time in, and maybe make contact with some rescue organizations that might come in handy in the coming months when we were ready for a new pup again.

Long, involved, emotional story short- we had a dog in the car when we left that day.

What?!!

it's only been a few weeks, and suddenly there's another one?

yes.

But- the reasoning was, this dog was in the highest kill rate shelter in all of LA, and he was past his out date. We were saving him, and were going to attempt to place him. He would become our second successful foster dog. It would be a few weeks at most. We would be heroes.

So.

yeah.

That's not what happened.

Not

At

All

It's been 3+ months and this "foster" is still in my house.

My husband has now bonded with him and wants to keep him forever.

My plans have been shot to hell.

He comes when called with his new name.

He prefers us over other people.

No one responded to the online listings or email pleas for a new home.

I am screwed.

His name is Odie. He is 3 yrs old, and a chihuahua/ Jack russell mix. He can jump over our gate and get loose. He feels the need to mark every new place as his own. He has a bark that could literally burst an eardrum if you let it go on too long. He loves to sleep in my lap under a blanket while I watch the news every morning. He acts as though I have invented dog treats every time I come home from work. He enjoys the dog park, and could spend all day there, socializing with other dogs mostly problem free. He doesn't beg for food while we eat, ever. He likes having his cheeks rubbed when he's sleepy. He poops in the same area of the yard every time, making clean up a ton easier.

He is a mostly wonderful dog who needs a bit more training to be really great, and he has entrenched himself in our house and our lives despite all my intentions to get him out. I still have his listings online, but there has been little to no activity on them, and the reality is sinking in- he most likely will never leave.

I am in an absolute emotional upheaval about this. He's sweet enough, but I was so far from being healed enough to bring another dog into my life. He's not what I wanted when I was ready- at all- so far from it actually that he might as well be a llama. or worse, a Cat.

Now, I have the joy of learning to adapt to this situation with him, and my issues, because I have no other choice in the matter. No good deed goes unpunished, indeed.