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.