A MESS OF STUFF

Nigel is home from his stay at the Vetspital with his nebbeminds looking more like Frankendog than Nigel. He is a little low key, not so much that he couldn't get up the strength to whine for 40minutes straight last night.
I managed to get him on the bed without tearing any stitches out so that I could do his morning ablutions. In the middle of that Conley and Doc began banging on the back door to come in, so I dashed around the corner to let them in and had no more started Nigel up again than Doc peed on the floor in front of me. So bellowing at him, I left Nigel on the bed with a cath in place and shoved puppy out the door, but of course, I could not go out with him.
I returned to Nigel who was perfectly peaceable and with Doc pounding on the back door managed to finish up. Then I cleaned up puppy pee and let the little monster back inside. And as I pass the bed I hear lick lick lick lick which takes a moment to register: dog licking incision WHOA!!!DOG LICKING INCISION??
I grab the inflatable collar and put it on Nigel:

Have you ever

                                    Seen such a dirty look from a dog?

Then I ordered the postcards for the Gallery Holiday sale except that at the end I discovered they had for some reason billed someone else. I tried to call but their customer service is down due to weather.
Where ARE these people located? Is it typhoon season?

And here I sit, waiting patiently for the next catastrophe.

Oh. And I ordered the new wood-bristled Chris Christiansen dog brush. My name will go all over this thing. These are the things that walk away at dog shows. I lost another Christiansen brush that way.
These aren't cheap brushes. If you had told me 20 yrs ago that I would be shelling out for a special dog brush, I probably would have....well...I was probably doing it then, too.

Nigel, by the way, HATES that collar.

DOGS IN THE MORNING

Now here is a great thing about dogs.

Every morning they wake up and they are sooooo happy to be alive and that it is morning and they have another whole day to be running and playing and peeing on things, sniffing the air, wagging their tails...

Not a single dog I have ever had got up in the morning and looked in the mirror and thought "Oh crap! I have that presentation today."
If they look in mirrors at all they may think
"Hey! Good lookin' dog!!" and then it's out the door to see what new and wonderful things happened in the yard overnight.

And they eat! Ahhh, one of the highlights of their day: food. And with a warm, full belly, maybe they fall asleep again for awhile but when I open the crates out they swarm, tails going, tongues going--
Don't jump on me -- is such an empty command here.
And they play
"I am the happiest to see you even tho I just saw you a half hour ago."
How could you stay depressed and angry and cold and old and frustrated?
At least for those few moments, the room is so full of life and love and happiness. How can you not smile or laugh, or want to sit on the floor and be overwhelmed?
And you know, They're For You. No matter what you do or say during the rest of the day, those dogs will vote for you. They have declared their political party long ago, and it's You.

Dogs: They watch out for you.

HOW TO SPEND A SATURDAY

Saturday morning. What is there to do?

See how fast I can go without running into the fence because they all laugh when I run into the fence even as they pick me up and  ask if I'm all right. Gotta get the brakes under control. Always something I need to practice.

"Kill" Uncle Llewis. He's a very good sport outside but not inside the house. That is one of those things we learn "the hard way".

Hunting for...um...back here all alone hunting for ....Oh whoops i think I hear Mom calling!

Post prandial naptime. Full Belly, warm rug, sleepy time. But not for long. Because they bought me a new toy and I want to get up and play with it. Now it's raining too, so I can't go out. Perfect for a new, expensive toy.

You have to start at one corner

and work your way around the perimeter of it. Don't EAT it, just shred.

Some sections are more difficult than others and others taste better. I think it's the kind of ink they use.

Oh well never mind. Hello Slipper. I love you.

EMERGENCIES

Here is the really cool thing about dogs. Just like children, they get sick at the most inopportune times. Sunday morning, Christmas Eve, the day your Vet is due to leave for his first vacation in 10 yrs, 30 minutes past closing, three hours before opening...

And of course there are the wait-n-sees: He's been vomiting for two weeks but I thought we'd wait n see.
And the slow emergencies:
He's been limping for two weeks but we think the leg might be broken.
And the It's Your Faults:
He had his rabies shot two months ago and now he's vomiting!

And the genuine emergencies:
Hit by Car
Cant breathe
Seizure
and Mine, surely one of the weirder emergencies:
I got the urinary catheter in part way and now I cannot get it out.

 Poor Nigel.

So I wrapped him in Vet wrap and took him in and at the time that the Vets were supposed to be going home to dinner (Or stopping at El Burrito Loco) they were gloved and digging around in Nigel's bladder, hauling out grit by what I am told was the handful. In addition, removing not just his testicles but the purse he kept them in, a tooth and a wart on his eye.
But the important thing was that bladder, because if he cannot pee, if the urethra is blocked with pebbles, he will die.

So the 4 a.m. call from the sitter (who I know well) was good, the post op recovery phase seemed to go well. I will leave him there a day or two.

To remind me that these things happen, there is about 8" of a urinary catheter sticking in my pen holder. (A mug from the Basset Hound Club of America)

And here's a tip: NEVER EVER TRY to pull a stuck urinary catheter out of anything. Let someone else do it.

And thus begins another day at the House of the Repeated Poor (Just when we catch up.....)

Be ye Easy, as a good friend used to say.

ODDS AND ENDS MOSTLY ODDS

Two days ago trying to teach the little one to take treats gently, my right index finger got in the way of a tiny, razor sharp canine and got ripped open to the tune of about a quarter inch. I have been badly bitten in my day and I am here to tell you none of those bites hurt like this did. And bleed? Good lord. Blood spatter everywhere with, of course, four dogs trying to help"Let me see let me see I can fix it oooo blood i can fix!"

"She stuck it in my face and said something and I said MINE and the next thing I know everyone is yelling and dancing around and Conley says "Nice goin kid, boy are you a dope."

Then the memories flooded back. Every Basset I have owned has had a gentle mouth.

None of the Belgians has.

Quiller and Cooper, the first two, I had to wear heavy sweatshirts and loose pants (this was when there was such a thing as loose pants for me) because if they grabbed my arm they left bruises. They were not being mean or extra rough. They had very good bite inhibition or I would still be looking for the pieces of my hand. They were big male intact dogs who played rough.
Cooper once took a chunk out of my hand during a show when Iwas baiting him up. I kept my hand in a fist trying to stop the bleeding in the ring.
Cooper also (I think-- maybe it was Quiller) took a chunk out of my lip when I tried getting him to "watch me" by dangling a piece of string cheese out of my mouth. (Thank you, Susan for that suggestion.)

They're a herding breed. They're visual, they're alert, they're...maybe a little exciteable.

Anyway I have weathered the flesh wound altho I believe it is infected. (I know it is). We are working hard on "NICE" but so far it appears to be a bit like "Down"---" Lo siento yo no entiendo nada de lo que dices"

I dunno, he's from Texas, maybe that's the problem.

 

I ATE SUMFING

I ate sumfin today.
Noboddy nos whut it was.
once upon a tyme it were libbin
Not enymore.
Mom took sum away frum me.
But she cuddent tell whut it were needer.
heh heh heh heh heh heh

TRAINING THE PUPPY

I know the dogs most people are interested in are the Bassets, but at the moment I am kind of heavily involved with this NOTABASSET, Doc the Belgian Sheepdog Puppy. This is what he looked like when he stepped out of his crate at O'Hare airport, in Chicago.

Sweet li'l Thing, isn't he? All fuzz and wondrous eyes..............

This is Doc now, two weeks later or so, when he has grown a little and settled in here at home:

 

Not quite the same shy, innocent, nervous little thing he was. Not even a little thing anymore, weighing in at over 16 pounds and able to run like a gazelle.

So the Puppy (Doc) goes to class. Once a week. We have learned sit and down and sort of sometimes "come" and now working on around, and a couple of things I have already forgotten about.

 

 

1.THE SIT
Call the puppy to you and hold a treat over his head slightly until he sits. Good puppy. Give treat. Call the puppy. PUPPY!! HEY YOU!!!
Grab puppy as he shoots past trying to leap on the 2.5 pound mini Aussie puppy to "play". Grabbing puppy by tail as he goes past is frowned upon by most trainers as is snatching him off the floor and trying to avoid shaking him until you can hear his brain cell rattling because he does this PERFECTLY at home, time after time.

2. THE DOWN

This is actually called the "partial down". It is a specialty of Doc's. The next step is to push the front legs out further propelling with the rear and sliding along the floor without actually having his butt end touch the ground.
The other variation is the SEAL TEAM 6 CRAWL-- in which nothing really touches the ground but the puppy crawls, military style, after the treat.
The cure for this is NOT to step on the puppy to force his rear to the floor. That will get you excused permanently from class and perhaps from owning other dogs.

 

This is how Doc looks at the trainer. He is sitting because she told him to. In a moment he will do a perfect down. He also came from across the room just to do this for her.

 

I am standing by the door while other owners cast sidelong glances at me and shake their heads slightly as they pass by with their 10 day old baby Chihuahuas heeling and doing fronts and finishes. (Well not really that young, but you know what i mean.)

Even the evil wheaten terrier is perfect.

 

As she goes past with the dog in perfect heel position,  the trainer says to me "I don't understand what problems you are having with him!"

 

 

                   'I don't know," I respond sulkily, "Ask Conley."