When your Vet gets it Wrong

We've had our little portie for just under 10 years now.  He's a huge part of the family, and if I may be so bold, he is the heart and soul of our home.  There is nothing that we would not do for him.  Just seeing his smile and his wagging tail, have kept us sane over this pandemic.

We take him to the vet regularly, we give him his heartworm and flea medication, and we brush his teeth every single night.  He gets walked a minimum of 3 times a day, and is at his ideal weight.  He is always brushed and groomed, and we constantly play with him. This is why it came as a shock to us back in September, to learn that he had developed a mass on his gums, and that it would be a good idea to have it removed and perform a biopsy on it.  We did not hesitate.  At the time of the procedure, we were also told that it would be a good idea to clean his teeth as well just in case he had tartar build up.  We said, "go for it"

Two weeks later he had his appointment.  It was October. He went under general anesthesia.  When we picked him up that night, he was really stoned.  He could barely move. He just stared at the wall for hours. The vet told us to look out for bleeding and vomiting, and that he would also have a coughing noise for the next few days.  This would be due to the intubation tube.  It irritates their throat.  We were prepared.  We had the antibiotics ready, and we also kept an eye on him that night.

He did cough.  He coughed a lot.  In fact, the coughing got worse and worse as the days went on. Hubby and I figured we'd wait until the medication was over and see how it went.  Doggie started to sound like he had emphysema.  The coughing was awful.  We took him back to the vet.  They gave him a steroid.  I did mention on more than one occasion, to the vet,  that he only started coughing after the intubation.  They disagreed with me and told me it had nothing to do with it.

We started the steroid.  The coughing was worse.  I called the vet.  They told me to finish the prescription first.  The coughing started to change into wheezing.  I was very nervous for my doggie.  In the meantime, he had also developed an ear and eye infection.  So, along with the steroid, we were giving him eye drops and ear drops.  We couldn't figure out how he got these infections.  Considering he had been on antibiotics after his procedure, wouldn't they have taken care of any other infections before they started?

We took him back to the vet.  They suggested an x-ray just in case his lungs weren't clear.  They said they'd call us if they found anything.  This would be the second time since October that he would be put under.  

They did call us back that afternoon and told us that his lungs were clear, but, that they suspected that there might be something wrong with his vocal cords.  They asked permission to perform a procedure whereby they sedate the doggie and try to stimulate his vocal cords.  Hubby and I figured, "we might as well.  He's already at the vet and he's already sedated"

They called us that night with the "devastating" news.  The vet told us that our doggie had bilateral laryngeal paralysis.  Hubby and I stared at the phone for 5 minutes in a stunned silence, the vet went on and on about all our options.  Our brains were reeling.  At one point I had to shout at her to tell her to just stop talking for one second so that we could process what she was saying to us.  It was so surreal.  The day before this diagnosis, hubby and I had taken doggie for a 1 hour walk.  He ran, jumped, played.  Now we were told that he had a terminal illness.  It was crazy.  When we picked him up, we asked the vet how this was possible for a dog so full of life.  She didn't really have an answer for us, besides the fact that dogs are just happy in general.

I did some research on the condition.  Articles pointed out that bilateral laryngeal paralysis was not necessarily a death sentence.  And, since it usually happened to senior dogs, they could in fact live out the rest of their lives.  However, we had to use a harness instead of a collar, not take him out when it was too hot, and not exercise him too much.

This became a real problem.  Our doggie is used to a lot of exercise and activity.  We had drastically reduced it...and he started to get bored and antsy.  He started chasing his tail like a puppy....eating toilet paper...knocking over our waste paper baskets...etc.

I figured I had to do something.  Hubby and I decided to visit with a surgeon and get a consultation.  We had nothing to lose.  Just wanted to know what our options were.  And now, since it had been 2 weeks since we got the news, we also had clearer heads.

We called our vet.  She made the appointment for us with the surgeon.  The  morning of his consultation, as we were driving our doggie to the clinic, the ride was in silence.  We were terrified with what we were going to find out.  

We got to the clinic.  Due to Covid-19 procedures, we were not allowed in with our dog.  Hubby and I waited in the car.  The surgeon would call us within 30 minutes with his diagnosis.

About 4 minutes later, our cell phone rang.  It was the surgeon.  He had a Parisian accent.  "Why eez theese dawg heere?  E does not neeed serjerie.  E iz normale.  Why did you make theese appointment?"  Hubby and I were stunned.  We told the surgeon that we didn't make the appointment.  It was our vet that had suggested it.  He thought we were crazy.  Although our doggie made a lot of noise when he breathed, the last thing he had was bilateral laryngeal paralysis!  The surgeon suggested our doggie see the doctor of internal medicine, who, happened to be free at the time.  So, we continued waiting in the car for a phone call.  About 20 minutes later, the internal medicine doctor called us.  She said his throat and chest were clear, but it would be a good idea to do a CT scan.  Just in case there was something in his head.  We asked, "how could this happen?  How could an entire staff at the vet's office see paralysis when there was none?"  She explained that in many instances, when you sedate a dog, his larynx also relaxes so much, then it looks like a false positive.

So, 2 weeks later, we took the dog to the clinic to get a CT scan.  It should also be noted that during the 2 weeks between the surgeon's visit and the scan, we exercised our dog a lot.  We were making up for lost time.  Our doggie loved it!  He started behaving again, and became calm again.  Also, once again, it should be noted that his breathing was always incredibly loud and it sounded laboured.

So, back at the clinic for the CT Scan.  Third time he would go under anesthesia in the space of 2 months.  A few days later, we got the results.  Nothing wrong with his head.  The final step, we were told, was to stick a camera up his nasal passages to see if there was a foreign body in there.  I looked it up.  Apparently, even a small blade of grass can cause quite the problem.  The tiniest foreign matter can create a blockage, and thus, an infection.  We waited until after Christmas to do the nasal endoscopy.  

So back to the clinic.  Back to sedating our doggie.  Four times now within four months.  Once again, we dropped him off and waited for news.  This time, we went home as the procedure would take hours.  We got a call late in the evening.  There was no foreign body up his nose.  They asked permission to put balloons up his nasal cavity to inflate the passage.  That way they could really see what's going on.  They had to use 3 balloons of different sizes.  They found a lot of stuff up his nose...a lot.  What was it?  Mucous!!! So much of it, that they were emptying his nose for 30 minutes.  The doctor explained it to me.  She said, in most dogs, when they are intubated, they get acid reflux.  In some cases, however, the pharynx gets completely clogged up and it is very difficult to drain it all.  Worst case scenario, although they drained it, it may fill up again.  If it ever gets so bad that he cannot breathe, we have to think about putting in a stent to widen the passageway.  In the meantime, the doctor suggested I use Salinex and a nasal aspirator on him.  I tried to do it a few times.  There is not a chance my doggie is letting me anywhere near him with those things.  I resorted to keeping him with me in the bathroom when I shower.  Hoping the steam will open up his clogged nose.

Doggie was on antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, and painkillers for over 2 weeks.  He also developed gastro from all the medication. Now, over a month since the last procedure, he's finally off all the meds.  My day to day now includes keeping several Kleenexes on me to wipe away the discharge. (and let me tell you, there is so much of it).  But, at least I know he's ok.  Somedays I don't hear him breathing at all, and other days he sounds like he's growling.  His discharge also seems to be abating.  Hopefully as the months get warmer, it will dry up all together.

So what have learned over these last four horrific months?

1-Vets can get it wrong.  And when they do, it is a nightmare trying to find out what the problem is

2-Trust your gut.  Although, the vet initially said that the intubation had nothing to do with his problem, it was very clear in the end that the intubation was exactly what caused the problem in the first place

3-Despite all the pushback you will get from friends and family, buy insurance for your pet.  We did get insurance the day we brought him home as a puppy.  It has really come in handy.

4-There will always be unforeseeable events.  We spent close to $7,000 during a pandemic year where hubby retired and I only received between 60%-75% of my salary. (Hence, the insurance).  As cliché as it may sound, you have to plan for your pet's future

5-Listen to your pet.  He will let you know when he is bored, antsy, or in distress

and finally, 

6-love your pet like there is no tomorrow.  We were lucky.  But had the first vet been right, I would be writing a completely different story.

For more blogs, please visit http://cluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/ and http://thecluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/

 

The "poo" noise!

I've had my dog for almost 2 years now.  In these last 24 months, we've had our ups and downs..I've fed him/he's bitten me...I've walked him/he's attacked me...I've taken care of him/he's eaten all the cushions off every sofa...I've petted him/he's sneezed in my face!  Yes, we've had our ups and downs...and we've had a very complex relationship.

And, in these 24 months, I've gotten to really know him.  I know when he's happy, I know when he's hungry, I know when he's tired, and..most importantly...I know when he has to relieve himself.  I'm not just talking about when I get home from work and he runs outside to pee (or mark every single solitary tree, bush, fence, railing, fire hydrant, mailman) in sight.  Nooo.  I'm talking the big one.  The yucky one that I, as a conscientious owner, have to pick up..I'm talking about his poop.  I can always tell when he has to poop.

You see, my dog has several sounds that he makes.  He has this kinda yawning noise he makes when he's super excited.  When he sees his girlfriend (a golden doodle about 2 months older than him), he yawns loudly and runs to her.  They can play together for ever..and he doesn't like it one bit when it's time to go home.

He also makes his stretching noise.  This one makes me quite envious.  When he wakes up in the morning, he gets down on the floor, stretches out his front paws, butt in the air (he looks a lot like a cat doing this).  He actually sighs.  He loves this.  Then he gets up and stretches out his back legs one at a time.  My husband and I think he was a Nordic skier in his previous life.  He just keeps on sighing until he's all stretched out.  I sure wish I could be that flexible.

Unfortunately, we've also hear his "I just got hurt" yelp.  Poor baby..he has, a couple of times, gotten his paw stepped on, or, when he was a puppy, the occasional 170 lbs Bernese would sit on his back.  The yelp breaks my heart.

Then he's got the "can't you see I want to play?" bark.  PWD's don't really bark all that much.  When they do, it's usually to get your attention.  So, if I'm talking to someone, or if the other dogs at the soccer field aren't paying attention to them..he barks just to let everyone one know to drop everything they are doing, and play with him.

Which brings me to his "poo" noise.  My hubby and son think I'm nuts..but I know the truth.  Whenever my little portie has to go, he makes a very complicated sound.  It's a cross between a yawn, yelp, and swallow at the same time.  I swear this is true!  There are some evenings, after dinner, after his walk, after we've brushed our teeth-and his..where he makes this sound.  Immediately, I order my, oh so wonderfully willing :( , 16 year old son to take him to the back yard because of the poo noise.    My son, who'd rather text then get up, refuses to believe this noise.  "Mom!!  He doesn't have a poo noise!!".  So of course, I turn to the next person closest to me and say to my hubby, "Oh sweetie, our dog is making his poo noise.  Can you please take him out?".  Hubby, who wakes up every morning at 5am, and who is almost dead asleep by 9p, looks at me and simply says, "no".

Now if my family just believed me, I wouldn't have to get up, put on a jacket, put on shoes, turn on the lights in the backyard (gotta scare away the skunks and raccoons), and go out there with him.  If my family would just believe me, I wouldn't have to take out the flashlight and go the the spot the dog "went"  I wouldn't have to get that wonderful poo bag, pick up after him, and leave it by the side of the house (where I hope to remember to remove it in the morning).  Yep, if my family only believed me, I could lie on the couch and bark out my orders to them...yep..they know our dog has a poo noise...but they're just wise to me.

For more blogs, please visit http://cluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/ and http://thecluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/

The Marine

So here we were, our little Portuguese Water Dog had been a member of our family for just over a year.  Cute as a button, loyal as heck to the 2 men in my family.  A real "family" pet.  He followed everyone around, he played with us in the back yard, he had his favourite toys, his favourite resting spots, his favourite games, heck, even his favourite friends.  His best friend was a Golden Doodle just 2 months older than him.  He just couldn't get enough of his favourite little missy,  and could play with her for hours on end.

Now my relationship with my little 14 month old dog was a completely different ball-game.  Although he'd let me pet him, he'd try to sit on me all the time.  Believe me, at 60 lbs, this got to be a little ugly.  When I'd gently pull him off me, he'd get agitated and try to sit on me no matter what I did.  My husband and son told me that it was a form of domination over me.  The only thing that would work was if I got up from my spot.

Back when my doggy was a 3 month old puppy, we had taken him to puppy training.  Our trainer at the time had told us that the way dogs assert their dominance over others was to take up their space.  In the canine world, if they are the "boss", they push each other out of the way.  That's why, in the wild, the pack leader usually eats 1st, followed by the other members of the pack.  The lowliest member gets to eat last.  Well, such was the case in my house.  Hubby and son would sit comfortably, but every time I'd try to occupy a space, doggy would be all over me....and that was domination just in the house.

Our walks were always horrible.  It had been over a year and I'd still come home from a walk in tears.  I had tried everything...long leash, short leash, tying him around my waist, giving him a chew toy on the walks, bringing treats along, wearing gloves (so my skin wouldn't tear from the constant chafing caused by the leash biting/pulling), I'd walk fast/slow, I'd ignore/pet the dog...never made a difference.  My dog would continue (after more than a year) to bite and pull the leash.  I think it's fitting that I mention we are on leash #11.

And so it went....I'd try to walk him much more often than the other members of the family..but to no avail.  Doggy was brutal with me.  The growling had gotten really bad too.  Lately, it was not only the biting and pulling of the leash, but it was the biting and growling at me that made it worse.  Of course they are very smart animals..for sure he would sense my apprehension as soon as the garage door would open.  But, in my very small world of master and servant, I did tense up as soon as we would leave the house.

I knew this wasn't normal.  People couldn't believe that this was happening a year later.  People couldn't believe that it was getting worse instead of better.  I finally knew what I had to do.  I had to call the Marine!!

The Marine is a local trainer here in my city.  I had heard both great and horrible things about him.  It seemed that the people who loved him, LOVED him.  Those that hated him....well you know.  There was no in-between with this guy.  I did lots of research on line about him.  I started noticing that all the bad reviews seemed to sound alike..almost if they were all written by the same person using a different alias..  Of course, I can't prove it, so I went to the people that loved him.  I thoroughly interrogated them...wanting to know what the Marine was really like.  In case after case, each person said that the Marine never trains the dog..he trains you, the owner.  Once again, dogs are really smart, so they can always pick up on your mood, etc...The Marine had helped these dog owners find themselves, had helped them open the lines of communication between dog and owner, and had helped the owner "talk" to the dog in canine terms.

I decided to give it a shot.

The Marine 1st came to my home to assess the situation.  He saw me interact with the dog.  He immediately began to correct the way I held the leash, the tone of my voice, and my stance.  He was really good with my doggy.  The Marine was not the "Marine" I had expected at all.  He spent over an hour with me.  After he left, I tried the walk on my own.  It went well for about 3 blocks (longer than ever before), and then the biting/pulling started.  I knew I wasn't going to see the Marine again for another week and a half...but...the difference between this training and the training I had had a year ago was huge.  A year ago, I had no idea what I was doing, and, no idea how the dog would react to me.  This time, I had a full year under my belt, and I knew how important it was to be "consistent", "persistent", and "insistent" when you're training a puppy/dog.

That week and a half was touch and go.  We had OK walks, and some that were nightmarish.  I went to the 2nd class (group classes from now on), then the 3rd, and the 4th.  I have to say that for about 1 week now, I've been holding the leash loosely in my left hand..my doggie walks right beside me..and he sits at every street corner.  Occasionally he'll get that crazy urge to bite the leash but it usually only lasts 2 minutes.  I still have a couple of lessons left.  I hope that my doggie will stop chasing squirrels (he tries to run out into the street), or will wait until we walk up to another doggy on our walks instead of running to the end of his leash trying to get to the other dog...all the while jumping on and off the sidewalk.

My goal is to keep doggie safe for ever..I want to keep him alive.  The dog is still the same dog he always was...it's me that's been trained now..


For more blogs, please visit http://cluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/ and http://thecluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/

Master and Servant

Back in the late 80's-early 90's, I'd go out a lot!  I just loved to dance.  I never drank, never flirted, never regretted any of my actions...I'd just dance, dance, dance the night away.

I had favourite groups too.  I just loved Depeche Mode.  To me, a young kid barely the legal age limit, I never really listened to their lyrics..just danced to the beat of their music, all night long.  One of my favourite songs that they had was "Master and Servant".  Like I said, I was very young and didn't really understand the undertones of the song.  All I knew was that it had a great club beat to it, and I could just close my eyes and get carried away with the music and rhythm. 

A few weeks back, as I was walking my little PWD devil dog, I started singing the words to "Master and Servant" to myself:

There's a new game
We like to play you see
A game with added reality
You treat me like a dog
Get me down on my knees
We call it master and servant
We call it master and servant

Now of course, as an adult, I see how inappropriate the words may seem to some people...but when I was walking my little devil dog on that warm evening, the words just popped in my head.

My doggie is definitely the "Master" in this relationship.  I'm not exactly "Servant", though.  In order for me to be a servant, the doggie would have to acknowledge me as Human.  Unfortunately, that is not the case in our complicated relationship. 

Our hierarchy is as follows:
Hubby
15-year old son
Doggie
Other Doggies
Toys
Lint
Rocks
Moss
Maybe...me

I wish that I could be the master in the relationship.  I see the other members of my family, I see the other people walking their doggies down the street...and I think, "One day, one day when I'm singing this song in my head...I'll actually be in charge..I'll actually be the boss..."  But for now, I'm down on my knees....while 14 month old doggie hold the leash.


For more blogs, please visit http://cluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/ and http://thecluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/

Grab Yer Pardner..Do-Si-Do

My 14 month old Portuguese Water Dog is in great shape.  He's lean, he's trim, and he's STRONG!!  Weighing in at just under 60 lbs, he's got the strength to pull down children, joggers, little old ladies, and of course, me!!!

He sure loves to pull..especially when the leash is in his mouth!!  He knows that once he's got that sucker firmly placed between his spectacularly white teeth, there is no way that anyone can make him budge.  (NOTE: husband and 15 year old son possess a power over my PWD that I haven't figured out yet...doggy walks exceptionally well with them)

Many moons ago, when doggy was but a 3 month old pup, we had taken him to a doggy training course.  Even then, when pup was at such an early age, the trainer could see that he would be giving me problems in the long run.  She would take me aside and give me secret tips she wasn't giving the other puppy owners in the class.  Actually, one day, she tied the pup's leash around my waist.  She said that if the pup could feel my movements, he would be better inclined to keep up with me and walk with me.  I felt like a moron.  There were all the other puppy owners walking like true masters, and I was the only chump with a dog tied around my waist.  That did not last long!!  I untied myself from the dog and tried to walk like everyone else.......

Fast forward one year later.  I still can't walk my dog.  He bites, pulls, jumps up, and always has the leash in his mouth (once again, let's be clear..only with me..no-one else)  Walking him for 12 months has been the worse experience of my life.  There has been no bonding.  The only things he has given me is a twisted finger and tendinitis.  Oh, I also have shin splints from the awkward positions he puts me in while pulling.

One afternoon, while contemplating the next 14 years with my tormentor, I decided to watch an episode of the Dog Whisperer.  Cesar just made everything look so easy.  Then, I really took notice.  He was talking to a lady that had a demon dog.  He suggested that she tie the leash around her waist.  He did it with his own waist and the dog was walking perfectly next to him within a matter of moments.  She then tied the dog to her own waist.  Within a half hour, her doggy was the best walker ever!!!

So I thought, hey, my 1st trainer had suggested I do it, and then Cesar did it...what do I have to lose??

Yeah..TV, man nothing ever works out the way it does on TV.  Real life is so DIFFERENT..

I tied my doggy around my waist and started walking.  He kept pulling me on to lawns, up against trees, and out on the street.  He tried to pull me in front of a moving bus!!  He still pulled and bit the leash, but because he was so close to me now, he could nip at my hand or butt as well.

And so it goes, every-time I'm out walking, instead of holding the leash I have it tied around me.  I just keep hoping doggy won't go after squirrels, that hurts the most as he dashes out at a moment's notice and the leash jabs itself between my ribs.  Most of the time, though, I just look like I'm square dancing..do-si-do-ing around my dog down the street.  He's got me round the waist and he's just spinning me...spinning me..spinning me....


For more blogs, please visit http://cluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/ and http://thecluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/

Dog Walk-Moon Walk

So here's the deal.  When I got my Portuguese Water Dog just over a year ago, he weighed all of 11 lbs.  Although he was not trained at all, he was pretty easy to control.  As Summer turned into Fall, and the weather got cooler, I started wearing gloves on our walks.

Then of course, with the cold Winter months, my gloves got heavier.  Doggy got heavier also, but I had no problem holding onto the leash and trying to get our walks under control.    He'd pull like crazy, but the leash always stayed firmly in my hand.

Then a strange thing happened...the snow started melting away and the weather started getting warmer.  By now, (March), doggie was close to 55 lbs.  As I started shedding layers of clothing to go out on our walks, the gloves got lighter.  Doggie never learnt to walk properly with me.  In the year that I had him, our walks had gone from bad to worse.  He still pulled and pulled...he bit the leash, he jumped on me and other poor unsuspecting passers-by.  He was getting to be a big dog who was completely out of control.

Back to the gloves.  One day, mid-March, the weather was wonderful.  All I needed to wear was a heavy sweater..no gloves!  I took doggie out and the nightmare began.  The leash whipped across the palm of my hand.  I had horrible rope-burn on the fleshy part between my thumb and my forefinger.  IT HURT!!.

The next day, I took him out again, no gloves again, and with all his jumping and pulling, I twisted the pinky of my left hand!!  And so on, and so on..every time I would go out without any gloves, my hands would come back looking like raw meat.

Then it hit me, I started carrying 1 glove in my pocket.  Ever time I'd take little pooch out, I'd make sure I had my cell phone, 3 poop bags, and my right glove.  It didn't look too awkward in March and April.  In May I started getting weird looks.  By June, it was downright ridiculous!!  I'd be in shorts and a tank top, wearing my right glove, and I'd be flying down the street trailing after my pulling dog!!!

Look, I know I have the Michael Jackson thing going on..you don't have to point, you don't have to laugh, you don't have to tell me.  I'm well aware of how crazy I look...but hey, the flesh has healed on my hands, my palms are no longer whipped, and I'm practicing my moonwalk too!!!


For more blogs, please visit http://cluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/ and http://thecluelesspuppyowner.blogspot.com/

Bye-bye, Martha Stewart

When my husband and I first got married 17 years ago, we had nothing..in fact we had less than nothing!!  Mind you, it could be argued that we had 2 things: 1-We had each other, and 2-we had a massive amount of debt!

But, we got ourselves a tiny 2 bedroom apartment, and slowly began to eradicate the debt. Slowly, over the years, we were finally able to save up enough pennies to put a down-payment on a house. We did finally buy a tiny little townhouse.  It was perfect for the 2 of us, and our little 3 year old son.  The house was small, but it suited us just fine.  We had a tiny garden/yard, and an even smaller deck.  The deck was only big enough for the BBQ and a very small round white plastic table with 3 chairs.  (The 4th chair had to be kept underneath the deck and would only come out if we had A guest!!)

For 8 years, we lived like that, but as our son got older, we started running out of room.  A 12 year old boy takes up a lot of space!!  We finally sold that house and moved to the one we live in now.  It's still not the mansion of my dreams, but it will do.  We moved at the end of the summer of 2009.  We finally had a deck that could actually fit a real table and chairs, but, because it was at the end of the season, the only outdoor furniture we could find was either way over priced, or really really bad quality.

So, onto 2010.  In April/May, we started looking for garden furniture.  The only thing we could find within our price range was a Martha Stewart collection at Home Depot.  Unfortunately, we were really early in the season so all the pieces weren't in yet.  We bought the table and chairs, but we had to wait 2 months for the parasol. I guess it wasn't such a bad thing, though, as 2010 produced a very rainy summer, so we hardly ever sat outside.

In 2011, we finally found the matching chaise longue and side table. We found it in October.  It had taken 2 years, but our set was finally complete!!  Late in the season, but complete nonetheless.

Finally, 2012 rolls around.  We've had an amazing year so far.  It's been warm, it's been sunny, and I've finally started enjoying my garden furniture that I had started piecing together 3 years ago.

Then, last week, I tied my little 14 month old Portuguese Water Dog outside for 15 minutes one morning.  I was running late and needed a little extra non-distracted time to fix my hair and make-up before I left for work.  The dog was out there between 645am-7am.  When I was ready, I went outside to bring him back in.  It was at that moment that I saw the carnage.  It took me a few seconds to process what my eyes were seeing.  There, lying on it's back, was one of my Martha Stewart lawn chairs...one of a set of 6 around the glass top table.  The back of the chair was on the ground, and the seat was pointing up.  My doggie was on the chair, eating up every bit of it.  In fact, you could not even tell that it was a chair at all.  Bits of cloth, plastic and stuffing were strewn all over the yard.  There was no cushion left, no backing, no "nothing". I could barley make out the iron frame.

Bye-bye, Martha Stewart...I hardly knew ya!!


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The Chiropractor

In my line of work, I get to meet many people from many walks of life.  Some people are quite fascinating.  I learn a lot from them.

The other day, I met a doctor of Chiropractic Medicine, I.E., "Chiropractor".  He was quite interesting.  He told me all about his work..how he manipulates one's spine to work out kinks, cure sore necks, and adjust one's posture.  He showed me diagrams of the spine and neck and showed me how he uses his hands to align one's back.  Fascinating!

That night, after dinner, I took my lovely 13 month old doggy out for a walk.  The weather was mild and lots of people were out with their kids, walking their dogs, or even just sitting on their front porches.  My doggy loves an audience, and with so many people out, he just HAD to show them his chiropractic skills!!

In a split second, he went from walking calmly beside me, to whipping around behind me.  He tried to pull my arm out of its socket!!  He then whipped around in front of me...spinning me 180 degrees.  Once I got my bearings, I realized that he had the leash wrapped around his snout..so when I bent down to help him, he jumped back resulting in propelling me forward with my arm outstretched...At this point, I was sure that he had indeed dislocated my shoulder.  Fortunately, though, it wasn't my shoulder that was dislocated, but he had managed to sprain my finger.  Dozens of people looked on, but because I had a forced smile on my face, they couldn't see that I was in distress!!

In the evening, after a long hard day, I sat staring at this ball of fluff at my feet.  I pondered about his career as a chiropractor and thanked my lucky stars that he didn't want to be a yoga instructor!!!!


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Menthol, Please

In exactly 8 days, I will have had my PWD for 1 full year.  It's been a crazy year, one of ups and downs, happiness and pain (mostly mine!), and much, much learning.

In this year, I've learned a lot about myself:
A) I'm a real softy
B) I can be a doormat to those big brown eyes
C) I'm way, way, WAY too interested in my dog's poop!!!

So now, I'm also wondering what this second year will bring.  The 1st year (AKA the puppy year), I learnt that my dog has the will power of a superhero.  This dog will never back down from something once he's put his mind to it.  I also learnt that just because something is under 1 years old, it doesn't mean that he's not strong.  In this year, I've been pulled, dragged, bitten, and thrown to the ground.  I've also had my thumbs and fingers twisted and sprained...fun times.

I've been told that the 1st dog year is equivalent to 7 human years, therefore, by all logic, my dog will be a teenager before this next year is up.  GREAT!!  I already have a teenager in the house.  He's a great kid, but my son is prone to mood swings, rolling his eyes, and listening to really loud music.  I have a feeling, doggy's teenage years will be just as tumultuous.  My teenage doggy is already picking up some pretty bad habits...between you and me...I think my doggy secretly SMOKES!!

Let me explain.  When hubby or teenage son walk our adolescent dog, he never strays from them, always dutiful by their side.  However, when I walk him, it becomes a game of "hold on to the leash", as he tries to get on every lawn, pee on every tree, and go into every public garbage can in the city.  Now doggy doesn't like all garbage, he's very particular.  But, doggy will pick up every single cigarette butt or discarded cigarette package he finds.  I don't know where this habit came from!  No one in my family smokes, yet, when out for a walk, in the evening, after his dinner, he likes to kick back and enjoy a smoke.  If this keeps this up, I'm afraid I'm going to have to lock up the brandy.


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Would You Like Fries With That?

My doggy's favourite day of the week is Tuesday.  Tuesday is not only garbage day, but as an added bonus it's recycling day as well.

Because recycling is only once a week, the bins tend to overflow with stuff.  Well meaning homeowners, eager to help the environment, fill the bins to the brim with paper, plastic cups, wrappers, and bottles.  Now, this is a good thing when the weather is nice, but not such a good thing when it's the slightest bit windy.  When it's windy, the pretty streets are lined with garbage.  And, that's when doggy is happiest!!  Walking him down the street is a nightmare, because he picks up EVERYTHING!!!

Just this week alone, he picked up an empty paper coffee cup from Tim Hortons, a bunch of napkins from McDonalds, and a pack of empty Export A's.  His favourite thing, though, was a McDonalds hamburger wrapper.  He would not let go of that at all.  He put it in his mouth at the beginning of our walk, and did not drop it till we were back home 40 minutes later.  I keep having visions of the vet doing blood tests on my 1 year old and finding out that he has high cholesterol and the bone density of a 90 year old!

A few days ago, we got a letter in the mail telling us that garbage pick up would be down to one day a week as well....oohhh what fun my doggy will have.  I can hardly wait to see what other 3 course meal, followed by a cigarette my doggy will have next Tuesday!!


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One, Two, Cha Cha Cha

I love to dance.  Ever since I was a little girl, I'd listen to my sister's Beatles' albums and move my little feet.
As I got older, still too young to understand that Disco sucked, but old enough to get together with my friends on Saturday nights, we'd practice our boogie moves in their basements till 8pm!! (Oh yes, I was a wild one back then).

The 80's and 90's was where it was at for me.  I would start dancing on Friday night and not stop till Sunday night.  For me, it was always about music and movement.  I still love music, I still love dancing, but now I can appreciate other types of dance.  I marvel at the Meringue, I love the Paso Doble, the jive makes me smile.

Now, as an adult, I've come to understand where dance originated.  Dance is an extension of life, and depending on the people and culture of that particular dance, it can describe the life, loves and ills of a culture.

Such was my discovery when I finally came to the realization that my relationship with my dog is very much like dancing the Cha Cha.  With my doggy, every time I make any headway, I just slide back to the place I was before.  With my doggy, it's like taking 2 steps forward-3 steps back (1-2-cha-cha-cha).  No matter what I do with him, any training, any progress-it barely lasts 2 days.  By the 3rd day, I'm right back where I started.

This became painfully clear to me, after I had my 7th straight PERFECT walk with him.  One week prior to our perfect walks, I had begun to step on the leash when he bit it.  I did this for a few days, and it looked like he finally started making the connection between biting the leash and lying flat on his stomach barely able to move. I took him out on a Sunday night, and poof, the magic had happened.  We walked perfectly together.  Then, the next afternoon it was the same...and the day after that as well.  From Sunday night to the next Friday, my walks were wonderful!!!  I was finally starting to feel good about having a dog!  For the 1st time in almost a year, I wasn't questioning why I had gotten one in the first place.  I was happy!!!

Then, Friday happened.  Friday was the day he was going to get groomed.  I walked him to the groomer-but since it wasn't the regular time I walk him, he was acting up a little bit.  He didn't bite the leash, but he was pulling so hard, I got leash-burn on my palm!!  I dropped him off at the groomer, and a black cloud immediately lifted off my shoulders-I felt free!!!  I remember having the very same feeling the 1st time I went out on my own without my newborn son-I remember feeling weightless.

I had a great Friday.  I had lunch with my co-workers that day-something that I hadn't done in a year.  I was never so relaxed.  It was the perfect Friday.  That afternoon, I got the call from the groomer to tell me that my doggy was ready.  I still felt good because I knew that things had been looking up between my doggy and me.  I knew I was finally able to handle him.

I got the the groomer, and my gorgeous doggy came out running.  He was so excited to see me!!!  He was jumping all over the place, he was nipping, licking, you name it.  Now, in retrospect, what I should have done is ignore my pooch.  I should have waited till he calmed down before we left.  However, I was too eager to show him off.  The groomer had done an excellent job with the PWD pet retriever cut.  He just looked too cute.

So, while he was jumping and nipping, I put the leash on him and left.  The walk was a nightmare.  There was so much leash-biting, pulling, and jumping, that it actually took us 45 minutes to walk 20 feet!!  This dog was in the zone!!  Absolutely nothing was going to snap him out of it!!! It took us about an hour to get home-the same walk usually takes about 12 minutes!

When I finally got home, muddy, bitten and in tears-I put him in his crate.  The second he went in, he fell into a deep, deep, sleep.

Two steps forward, three steps back...One, two cha, cha, cha!!!


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I'm Putting my Foot Down!!!

There are not too many things in life I hate.  I dislike a few things (traffic jams, obnoxious people, sour milk after it's been poured into my coffee), but not much I hate.  I guess I could say I hate not getting enough sleep, or growing older, but those are things that many people have in common, and it's always easy to vent to a co-worker or friend, and feel better afterwards.

But, I can say without hesitation, I HATE walking my dog.  I really do.  It's not the going outside in all types of weather, or even the waking up early, coming home at lunchtime, or even the after dinner walk.  I totally get the health benefits of doing that.  I know that if it wasn't for my little pooch, I would always come up with an excuse for not going outside to exercise.  The weather, the time, my schedule would all play a nice role in keeping me from exercising.  Therefore it's not the walk that I despise...it's the walk WITH my dog that sends a cold shiver down my spine.

Hard to believe we've had him for almost a year now, but it's true.  We picked him up from the breeder on May 28th, 2011.  A little 8 week old munchkin just waiting to be taken home to a nice, loving happy family.  Now one would think that after having had a dog for almost 1 year, and, said dog not having had any prior experiences with any other owners, one would think that life would be easy for everyone...WRONG!!!  Life is easy for hubby.  Life is easy for 15 year old son...life is a nightmare for me!!!!  After almost a year of living in our home, our dog still does not respect me.  True, the biting has stopped, but the nano-second that hubby leaves the house, doggy goes on a rampage.  I have to lock up all the sofa cushions in the guest bedroom, have to hide the dish cloths on top of the stove, have to put all waste-paper baskets on top of tables, have to put our shoes on top of the dryer.  When doggy sees he has nothing but his toys to play with, he tries to take the carpet out of the hallway and drag it up the stairs.  Once I roll up this carpet and put it in the closet, doggy starts eating our plants!!!  It NEVER ends!!!  He only does this when I'm alone with him!!!

Now this is why I hate my walks.  When I go for a walk accompanied by hubby or son, doggy just walks between us like an angel.  But, when I'm alone, he goes for the leash in the nanosecond it takes for me to step out of the garage!!  I've tried everything.  I've tried staying in the garage with him for 40 minutes waiting for him to go into a calm, submissive state.  That did not last long!  I've tried being very assertive when the leash is in his mouth, that is, snapping the leash, making him stop walking, being firm.  That never worked.  I've also tried ignoring him when he's biting or yanking the leash, but that works even less.  I longer I ignore him, the more excited he becomes by having the leash in his mouth and he works himself into a frenzy!!  I've tried the harness too.  That worked great up until doggy turned 45 lbs.  Then it was harder than ever to control the pulling and biting.

One day I was walking him when hubby called me.  As usual, I was fighting back the tears as doggy was trying his best to dislocate my arm from its shoulder.  Then, hubby suggested I step on the leash.  So I did.  As doggy was whipping himself up into a leash biting frenzy, I stepped on the leash and brought my foot down as close as possible to the start of the leash nearest his neck.  Doggy did not like that one bit.  I never heard him growl like that.  Actually, I was sure he would bite my foot off, but he never did!  I stayed like that for a few minutes and started the walk again.  He began with the leash again, so I stepped on it again.  This time I stayed there for 5 minutes.  Cars driving by pointed and stared, but I didn't care.  My doggy was actually lying down and was going into a calm state.

So now, this is my life.  Sometimes I only have to step on the leash once, sometimes I have to step on it more than 7 times, I'm just hoping that one day, doggy will make the correlation between leash biting, and not being able to move.

Only time,( and a steel belted leash) will tell.


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The Sound of Grinding, Crunching Metal

My year old doggy pulls.  He pulls and pulls during our walks. Sometimes, he pulls like crazy just until he poops, and then he's calmer.  Most of the time, however, he's just crazy!!  The pulling never stops.

So, I do what any one in my position would do...I'm constantly on the lookout for twigs that I can give him during our walk.  My rationale is that if he's busy with something in his mouth, he won't pull so hard.  This plan has been know to backfire however.  Because he's so use to having something in his mouth when I'm walking him, his nose is always low to the ground.  He runs onto any lawn he sees and constantly tries to pick something off the front yards.  Most times it's twigs...but, many, many times it will be blown over Kleenexes, Q-tips, paper bags, empty cigarette packs, or Styrofoam coffee cups.  Doggy just loves recycling day!!

He's a clever little guy, my little doggy.  He knows that once this stuff is in his mouth, he has to run to the end of his leash to keep as far away from me as possible.  He knows that he has to pull with all his might against me (as I try to reel him in), because once he gets close to me, I'm going to be prying his jaws apart trying to get the foreign objects out!  He just HATES that.  He looks at me with a rather puzzled look thinking, "OK Lady.  Twigs-yes, Kleenex-no?  C'mon, what's the diff?"  And he's right.  I should never have started this on our walks, but now I don't know how to stop it :(

Yesterday, I knew I had to end this practice.  There we were, walking our usual walk...pulling, yanking, biting the leash...(I keep waiting for that wonderful bonding moment between master and doggy...), when, in the blink of an eye, doggy ran onto someone's lawn and snatched something off the front stoop.  At first, I didn't think anything of it.  We just kept walking and doggy was quite calm.  Then, I noticed that he wasn't closing his mouth!!  There was something in there!!  It was small enough to fit in there, and I couldn't see what it was.  As soon as doggy got wind of the fact that I wanted to peer into his mouth, he ran to the end of his leash and pulled as hard as he could.  There was NO WAY he was going to let me look into his mouth and take away the tasty mystery morsel!!

And then, it started...the grinding, crunching sound that made my stomach turn.  I had absolutely no idea what was in there, but doggy loved it.  For close to a dozen times, I tried to get him to open his mouth so that I could see what was in there..but to no avail.  This was one time that doggy was NEVER going to let me win!!  This taste was too new...too different.  The sound went on and on.  Crunching, grinding..sounded like he was crushing his teeth against a metal beam.  It was so gross.

Each time I looked at him, his mouth was opened but the mystery object was not about to come out.  This sound, and thus the chewing, continued for about 20 minutes.  I kept imagining this steel object making it's way through my doggy..trying to come out the next day!!!  That evening, after explaining to my hubby, we put doggy on watch.  I was petrified of what would come out of him.  The next day he was fine, and the day after that as well.  Whatever he had eaten, did not seem to have affected him in any way.

The next night, as we were walking, I saw a snail on the street...I closed my eyes and made a secret wish that it was a snail (shell and all) that puppy had eaten 2 days ago.  I'll never know for sure, but I'll start carrying around garlic butter with me...just in case.


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I Saw that Look!

So, anyone that has been following my blog since July, will know that I have not had an easy time walking my little PWD.  I've had good periods...which consist of maybe 2 good walks in a row (out of about 1 trillion), but for the most part, it's been a nightmare.

It's not that my little PWD is a "bad" dog either!  He's great!  He's very respectful of other dogs, he knows when to play and when to walk away.  He definitely knows his place in the complicated echelons of the canine world. He knows his place in our home too.  In the grand hierarchy of his mind, at the very top is hubby (the only person in the family that has no interest in the dog whatsoever).  Hubby doesn't care if we have a dog or not, hubby only walks him in the mornings, and the only reason for that is that hubby wants to get his daily exercise.  Hubby has made it very clear that he doesn't care if we were to give away our little PWD tomorrow.  Somehow, this indifference has translated itself to reverence in our dog's mind.  He WORSHIPS the very ground hubby walks on!!!  Hubby had become the prime alpha member of the family!! Wherever hubby goes, doggy is sure to follow...makes my tummy turn if you ask me!!!

Soon-to-be-15 year old son is next in line.  No matter what antics doggy is up to (whether I'm chasing him around the dining room table trying to get the dish rag out of his mouth, or chasing him around the house trying to keep him from eating the baseboards), as soon as son enters the room, doggy drops everything he's doing, and he just sits there, angelic-like, waiting to be pet or played with.

Now of course, there's me!  I have absolutely no status in my doggy's mind whatsoever!  I am below hubby and son, below other doggies and their owners, below sticks, rocks twigs and moss...I have zero status.  Whenever I take him out for a walk (2ce a day minimum), he tugs and pulls on the leash..bites the leash, plays tug-of-war..you name it.  What I find has helped my walks a bit, is that if I ignore him for a full day, he will walk slightly better with me.  He'll still pull me down the street so hard that I have to run to keep up with him, but at least he won't put the leash in his mouth..that is...until I make eye contact with him.  I try to avoid doing so at all costs.  Once we establish eye contact, I know I'm finished.  It's in that nanosecond of our pupils aligning, that he jumps in front of me, grabs the leash and never lets go.

When I'm out with him, I look ahead of me, I look up, I look to the side...doggy does everything in his power to make sure I see him.  He runs out in front of me to face him, I quickly dart my eyes to the side to avert his stare.  He runs to my side..then accidentally, I'll smile at an elderly lady waiting at the bus stop.  I see she's looking at doggy, naturally, my eyes go down to him.  Uh oh!!!  I panic.  He's noticed we made eye contact and for the next 30 minutes of our walk, he'll be biting, pulling, tugging...and he'll be oh so HAPPY!!!!


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Dahhling...the pillow clashes with your scarf....

I've heard it said over and over again , "In my previous life, I was...."  Some religions are based on this belief, others, just believe in reincarnation based on characteristics we have.

Hubby and I think our son was probably a fish in his previous life..based on his love of the water.  In my early 20's, I thought that I was a black panther in my previous life based on the fact that I always wore head to toe black clothing.  I've had friends think they were reincarnated from Egyptian royalty based on the fact that they love to wear a lot of gold.  I've always thought it was funny that we claim to be royalty...how come we were never the slave that got squished between the 2 pillars while building the pyramids?

I also think it's odd that most of the people that believe in this sort of thing, believe they were an animal first...What if it were the other way around?  What if animals were reincarnated from people?  No question that Winston Churchill was a bulldog, and Phyllis Diller was an Ostrich.

My Portuguese Water Dog was most definitely an Interior Decorator before he became a dog.  He sits there, in front of the couch, eyeing the silk throw pillows.  You just know he's thinking, "What in the world are my masters thinking.  How can they possibly have a rust coloured cushion on this brown couch...Oh no, no, no...it belongs there, on the floor behind the dining room chairs...now that's Feng Shui!!!"

Then, he'll walk past a runner (a longish carpet that we have in the hallway on our main floor).  He puts it in his mouth, drags it up a flight of stairs and leaves it in the kitchen.   He then takes the dish rag that's hanging on the handle of our oven, and he'll bring that into the laundry room.  "There, much better..I sure hope those pesky masters don't destroy my work...I'll only have to do it over again if they do"..

Our little PWD absolutely hates the guest bedroom.  He's always pulling the comforter off the bed and tries to drag it to the foyer.  I guess I should be grateful to him...my floors are always nice and shiny from all that material being dragged across the floor.

The other day, he decided that he no longer liked the sheets on my son's bed.  One morning, while son was still sleeping, my little portie managed to get the top sheet off him and run downstairs.  I found my son's sheet in the basement, full of holes.  When I went upstairs to check on son, I saw that his pillow cases (the corners) were eaten away!!!   Son had never woken up!!!!

When I was buying my son his new sheet set, I tried to make a careful selection.  I didn't want to get anything that might disagree with my dogs sense of style!!


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The Birthday Boy

So.....my little terror turned 1 years old today!!!!  The irony of my little guy being born on April Fool's Day is not lost on me.  From the second we got him , I knew my life would change forever.

I have been feeling nostalgic all day.....

It all began 8 years ago.  My son, 6 years old at the time, and I kept harassing hubby to get a dog.  I had grown up with cats all my life, and son had a goldfish for 4 years (darned thing just kept hanging on!!!)  Hubby, on the other hand, had never, ever had a pet.  Both son and I kept at him, and then one day...he said "yes".

Hubby and I did lots of research on hyper-allergenic dogs.  Hubby and son wanted a medium to larger sized dog, so our list kept getting narrower and narrower.  Then one evening, as hubby was playing softball, a lady and her PWD came strolling by.  Hubby took one look at that dog and he was smitten.  He came home that night and announced that we'd be getting a PWD.  That night, and for the next few months, hubby and I did lots of research on the breed.  We found out about their mouthiness, their tendency to jump on you,  their extremely high energy levels, and of course, their need for constant exercise.  We knew that this would be quite the commitment.

When we found our reputable breeder, the breeder suggested that we spend a few hours with the dogs to see hubby's reaction to them.  Hubby has always been allergic to animals, and suffers from asthma, so we had to be really sure. We got to the breeder, and 6 adult PWD's came running at us.  They were all over us.  They sat on us, they licked us (boy oh boy does that breed like to lick!!), and they won us over.  We knew right then and there, that we wanted a curly-haired male.  And, most importantly, we knew that this breed was perfect for hubby!!

When we found out that one of the dogs was pregnant, hubby, son, and I were beside ourselves.  We were just as excited as if one of us were pregnant (OK, maybe just me since I'm the only female in the family).  We waited and waited until we got that faithful call, the mother had given birth to a litter of 9....5 females, and 4 males...and, of the 4 males, only 1 of them was curly-haired.  When the pups were 5 weeks old, we went over to meet them.  There they were, the 9 of them, falling all over themselves, biting each other, and competing to feed off their mother.  There sat our little guy, on his own.  He was very quiet.  He observed all the sights and sounds around him.  He was not very active at all.  At one point, he found a spot and sat down...only the spot was his brother's head!!  After 10 minutes, he looked down at the lump, and walked away.  I was actually worried that something might be wrong with him.  He didn't have anywhere near the energy level of his siblings.  We asked the breeder if this was a sign of his personalty.  "Was he always going to be so calm, docile and quiet?"  The breeder just laughed, looked at us and said it was just "Marketing".  Pup would show us what he was really like soon enough.

When we finally brought him home at 2 months old, we realized that he was NOT that calm puppy we had met at the breeder's place.  This pup could run laps around the Tasmanian Devil!!!   He could jump down a flight of stairs on a single bound, he could destroy every toy he had in 10 minutes...

In the 10 months we've had him, we've definitely had our ups and downs...but today, looking into his big brown eyes... I look forward to the surprises this new year will bring!!


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Down, boy, down!!!

Portuguese Water Dogs are an active breed.  Before we got him, hubby and I did lots and lots of research.  We got him, primarily because it was one of the few dogs that hubby was not allergic to.  But, we also knew that they needed lots and lots of exercise.  Needing a lifestyle change, hubby and I decided to kick start our healthy habits and pretty much use the dog to get healthier.

Dogs need to be walked.  They don't care if it's sunny, rainy, snowy, or if it's the end of the world...they have to go out.  Therefore, hubby and I knew we could never use the weather as an excuse not to get out there.  Actually, in the 10 months that we've had our puppy, we can honestly say that we've spent just as much times outdoors, as we do indoors.  Our TV consumption is down to a minimum, we wake up early...and as a consequence, go to bed early.  Hubby had lost 30 lbs, suits that I bought 10 years ago fit me perfectly, and 14 year old son now plans walks with his buddies (as opposed to sitting n front of the TV playing video games)

Pup is still in a pain in the butt, though.  Anyone that has been following my blogs for the last 8 months will know all the trials and tribulations I've gone through.  For the most part, pup is starting to calm down...with one exception. He JUMPS!!!

Once again, hubby and I had done plenty of research before settling on a PWD.  Everything we read stated that this particular breed is very agile, and, it likes to jump.  In fact, that is one of the primary traits of this dog.  At home, we've trained him not to jump on us or the furniture.  When people come over, he does run to them, but once we've instructed our guests to ignore pup for the 1st few minutes, then pup just walks away.  The big problem is when we're out walking the dog (which in our case is very, very often).  He'll see some poor unsuspecting jogger and run to the end of his leash, all the while trying to jump on them.  Because he's over 55 lbs now, the momentum of his run and jump also propels me forward towards the jogger.  I usually get very dirty looks from the joggers because from their point of view, it looks like I'm actually steering my dog towards them and encouraging the jump!!

He doesn't only jump at joggers.  He also jumps at other dogs.  Not so bad when the other dog is taller...but a bit of a disaster if the other dog is shorter.  A taller dog will be able to take my pup's weight...but a shorter dog kind of turns into a pancake.  They get angry and start biting at pup's tummy.   This gets my pup excited and then he wants to play!!  The other dog, however, having been flattened, wants to kill!!  Not the best combination for play-dates!!

Pup also jumps at little old ladies..maybe because he can smell their frail bones.  I've had many a dirty look from these ladies that think I'm sicking my pup on them on purpose in order to rob them!!!  The worse, of course is other dog owners.  Let me explain.  We don't give our puppy treats, but there are legions of dog owners out there that carry bags and bags of treats.  Well let me tell you, one whiff of those bacon, chicken, liver treats is enough to send my pup into a frenzy.  He's constantly jumping on these poor unsuspecting dog-owners.  I try to get him off them, but the leashes always end up getting tangled and pup's nose is usually right up the other dog-owners pocket!!

Yesterday, he jumped up on a 5 year old girl.  They were the same height when pup was on his hind legs.  He kind of put his paws around her so she couldn't  move away, and then he decided to take advantage of his position by proceeding to "hump" her.  I spent the next 15 minutes trying to explain to her father that my 11 month old pup was neutered and really had no idea what he was doing!!!

I've looked up ways to get pup to stop jumping up.  Advice ranges from putting your knee up while he's in mid-air, to grabbing his front paws and walking him backwards.  Yeah,...now I'm trying to figure out a way to tell that to the joggers as they run from me, or the little old ladies who are trying to swat me with their purses!


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The Kennel

So there I was...partly looking forward to leaving my 11 month old pup at the kennel for a week...but partly missing him like nuts.

He and I have a very complex relationship.  He relies on me for food, walks, healthcare, love...but he also tries to dominate me every chance he gets.  He has never seen me as Alpha..not in the 9 months that we've had him.  He jumps at me, he pulls away or bites the leash incessantly when I walk him, he tries to occupy my space, he never listens to any of my commands.

So, when my family and I were planning our Spring Break vacation, I looked forward to a "Spring Break" from pup as well.  Hubby and I did lots of research.  We couldn't just leave him with anyone (too many horror stories).  It took us a while but we finally came up with a kennel in the country.  Hubby and I visited it and we liked what we saw.  It was clean, the dogs looked happy, and there was plenty of free space for the dogs to run around.  In short..we were happy with our decision.

When it was time to take pup there, we made it a family trip.  Hubby and I sat in the front seats of the car, 14 year old son and pup sat in the back.  (with lots and lots of towels just in case pup would get car sick).  We also brought along pup's food, his bed, 4 of his favourite toys, and one of the towels from the car (so that it would smell like home).  As soon as we got there, pup couldn't wait to get out of the car...he heard so much barking, all he wanted to do was play and play.  Given it was his supper time, we gave him his food.  He went at it and never looked up as we were trying to say a sweet "good-bye" to him.  He had positively no interest in us.  We stared at him for a while, but when he made it clear he was too busy to give us any attention, we just kind of left.  So much for the tearful good-bye I had envisioned.

That evening was really weird.  The 3 of us ate dinner in silence.  It was strange not to have pup around sniffing at our feet.  It was strange not going out for a walk after supper.  I really missed the little guy..hubby and son..not so much.  But I missed him like crazy.

So today, after a full week, we went back to the kennel to pick him up.  Son went to the car to get pup's leash, so hubby and I were in the office alone, waiting for our dog.  As soon as pup came out, he ran right past me and was all over hubby.  He jumped on hubby, he licked hubby, he stuffed his nose up hubby's private areas...he could not get enough of hubby.  I just stood there, next to hubby, staring.  Then, 14 year old son walked into the room.  Pup left hubby and jumped on son.  He licked son, he played with son, he sniffed son. I started to feel like the 3rd wheel so I tried to get pup's attention.  I tried to get pup off son so he could actually focus on me...the only one who missed him!!  Pup didn't like me prying him away from hubby and son, so he turned around and NIPPED my hand!!!

That's when it hit me.  All this time I've always thought my dog hated me.  Now I know the truth...he doesn't hate me.  I'm just a non-entity to him.  I feed him and walk him, but I'm a NOBODY to him...sniff..sniff..


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Goodbye Cruel World

Well, it's finally happened.  I think I finally know what's going through my 11 month old puppy's brain!!!  I use to think the answer was "not much", but now I've finally figured it out.  Puppy wants to end it all!!  Yep, he wants to grab his big ole bone, lap some water out of his dish, maybe mark his territory on a tree or two, and then he wants to go out like a flash!!

Let me explain.  Why else would puppy try to run out on the street while I'm walking him?  Why else does he go to the end of his leash, trying with all his might to run onto oncoming traffic?  I can see it now, as he sits by the living-room window..looking out onto the street in front of him.  I can see that bubble forming on top of his head.  The bubble with the words clearly stating his thoughts.  "Hmm", he thinks, "living with these humans has been fun, but now I must go.  All they do is exercise me 4 times a day, groom me, brush my teeth".  Yes it's a tough life for this pooch.  His thoughts continue, "Well, I'm 11 months old now.  I've tasted every Kleenex, I've marked every tree, and I've played with every dog in the world "....true..his is a small world.  "I've eaten really healthy food as my masters don't give me junk or snacks, I've destroyed every room in their home, I've torn all their cushions, chewed on shoes and socks.  I've been to every dog park, soccer field, golf course, and water fountain.  Now I have nothing left"

Then as I take him out for our walks, he starts.  Pull, pull, pull the leash.  Put leash in mouth and jump into the street while I try to reel him in only inches away from an oncoming bus!!.  We have an overpass near our house which looks down 20 feet onto train tracks.  Sometimes you can see the train in the distance, sometimes it's directly underneath us.  Most times, however, there is no train...and what should be a 30 second walk across the overpass, becomes a 10 minute ordeal as pup pulls and pulls...all the while I'm making his leash shorter and shorter so that he doesn't fall through the barrier and 20 feet down onto the tracks!!

I'm not sure if puppy really thinks this way...but for now, I'm just focused on keeping him alive...at least long enough so that he can experience his first birthday next month!!


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Awww...what's in the dog's mouth now!!!!

The Portuguese Water Dog is a mouthy breed.  That's what all the textbooks and magazines say.  PWD's always have t have something in their mouth.  My question is, "WHY DIDN'T I LISTEN??"

My 10 month old is never without something in his mouth.  We've bought him all kinds of chew toys (both stuffed and unstuffed), we've bought him squeaky toys (they last about 10 minutes in those big strong teeth), we've given him special bones, balls, Kongs..you name it...there is no lack of objects for our pup to chew on...

So...

Why the heck does he have to pick up strange objects off the street when we're walking!!!  We'll be walking along, he'll have his (annihilated unstuffed) ferret in his mouth, happy as a clam.  In the blink of an eye, the ferret is tossed aside and a new, foreign object is in his mouth!!!  How he does this so quickly will forever remain a mystery to me!!  I can be seen at any given corner trying to pry his jaws open, all the while pulling out used Kleenex, bounce sheets, Tim Horton coffee cups, branches,  cigarette packs (thankfully empty)!

Last week, as we were walking, I saw his head swoop down...but I didn't see anything sticking out of his mouth.  We kept walking a little further when he turned to look at me.  There, sticking out of his mouth, a used Q-Tip!!  Ick.  What could possibly have attracted him to that!!  I tried to pull it out, but let me tell you, I have enough trouble pulling out a stick or twig...at least they're wide enough for me to be able to get a good hold on them.  But a Q-Tip??  There's nothing to hold onto!! And I sure as heck didn't want to touch the cotton swab portion!!  So,  I did what I've always done..I looked for another piece of garbage to tempt him with, and once his mouth was opened and the Q-Tip fell out, I grabbed the leash and started running as fast as I could away from the offensive Q-Tip!!

Lately, pup has started going in my bathroom to sniff around.  I tend to keep the door closed, but he's learned that if he rams his head hard enough against the door, it will open for him!!   Let me explain a little bit about my bathroom.  This bathroom is mine!!  I share my home with my hubby and my 14 year old son, so this bathroom is off-limits to them.  It's my sanctuary.  I keep my make-up there, my cologne, smelly pot-pourris and of course, the things that my husband or son can never use..simply because they're male!!  So, what does puppy come out of the bathroom with?  Yep!!!  Now, excuse me while I try prying that out of his mouth..all the while looking for taller shelves to keep things on!


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