Heart Like a Dog

The Good, the Bad, and the Oh My God of living with dogs!

Planting Seeds

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Spring has finally arrived and we’ve had some decent weather the last week or so, even though it got super cold last night.  Easter Sunday was just about perfect weather wise and it was made even better by having the grandchildren over.  I was so excited that my grandson who is six was showing some interest in walking the dogs.

He did super good with Sampson.  Sampson is one of those dogs who adapts to whomever is walking him, he’s also on a new harness which helps with his pulling and I was tickled that my grandson could walk him.

Don't worry little dude, I'll go easy on you.

Don’t worry little dude, I’ll go easy on you.

When it came time for Delilah’s turn I became a bit more hands on.  If she saw a squirrel or a dog I was afraid she’d want to take off and he could easily get pulled or worse, so I kept a good eye on it. It was a good learning opportunity for us, as a couple of times when Delilah pulled he gave her leash a good tug.  I explained to him that is not how I work with Delilah, I want her to do something because I ask her to, not because I force her.  We had a good conversation and I hope at the least I planted a seed.

Hey, take it easy on that leash, yo! We don't leash pop dogs in this house.

Hey, take it easy on that leash, yo! We don’t leash pop dogs in this house.

It took me back many years to the beautiful walks and talks I had with my grandfather and the many seeds he planted in me.  What a beautiful Easter gift to share with my grandson, the gift of having an adult listen and share.

Sampson

Sampson starts his physical therapy tomorrow.  This past Tuesday was the four week mark since he had his surgery and it seems to me that he is walking a bit better.  He still resists his weight bearing exercises, but we’ve discovered if we let him initiate a game of tug, he naturally puts weight on it without realizing it.

And yesterday on one of his walks he pooped and used that back leg to kick some dirt over it.  I was so excited, I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Hubby!

Delilah

Delilah continues to be her crazy, zany self.  Honestly I need a video camera to actually capture all the crazy things she does.  Yesterday as I was prepping for her walk she she mistook my hand zipping up my jacket for a treat and actually tried to eat the zipper tag.

This dog yo!

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Who’s Been Pooping in my Bed?

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Delilah and the Baby Gate:

Sampson and I have been sleeping in the Recovery Room that Hubby and I made for him.  Anytime we aren’t home, Sampson is locked in this room via a walk through baby gate.  Last week we were told we could give him a bit more freedom, so I tried using a plastic baby gate in the hallway.  I shut the bathroom door so he couldn’t go in and slip and I wedged the gate between the walls.  This would give him access to his room and the den.  Typically the den is Delilah’s.  She has a little bed in there and she lays there watching for us to come home.  But I figured, hey she has access to the entire house including the bedroom, so she can suck it up for a few weeks.

The first morning I heard my mom getting ready to leave so I called Sampson in to the den so we could go out on the small deck and say good morning.  I slid open the door and there was this humongous crash and Delilah came tearing into the den.

Scratch the plastic baby gate in the hall.

Who’s been pooping in my bed?

You all know by now that I’m a worrier.  It’s what I do best.  If I could get paid to worry, I’d be richer than Bill Gates.

Monday I came home from work and went to let Sampson out and I noticed something in the bed.  It looked like a small rock so I went in and picked it up.  Upon closer examination I realized I was holding dog poop.  I was puzzled. How on earth did dog poop get in the bed?

And then the following thoughts raced through my mind:

  • Could Sampson have pooped in the house and then cleaned it up himself, even though he’s never pooped in the house before? (You missed one dude.)
  • Why would Sampson poop in the house?  Oh god, what if he really does have Degenerative Myleopathy and he’s losing feeling in his back end and doesn’t even know he’s pooped?
  • What about Delilah?  You know she’s a shit eater.  She was snuggling in here this morning.  What if she brought something in from outside to enjoy in bed, like most people enjoy crackers?
  • Sampson did poop this morning.  Maybe he didn’t get it all out, what if he had a little one left in the chamber and when he went to sleep it shot out?

Then I decided it wasn’t worth worrying about, I left the room to dispose of the poop and I met Delilah in the hall.  What the hell, I thought.  She eats shit anyway.  I held out my hand.  She gave me the nastiest stink-eye and turned her head.

My DOG woman, you never cease to amaze me. Poop eating is discretionary. At MY discretion.

My DOG woman, you never cease to amaze me. Poop eating is discretionary. At MY discretion not yours!

What? (For those of  you not in the know, the poop of raw fed dogs is very different from non-raw fed dogs.  It is very hard and compact.  This poop looked like a small rock or a very large piece of kibble.  I think the fact it looked like kibble is that gave me the above idea.) 😉

Where does the Mama sleep?

Please take note of this photo.  Can you see where the pillow is?  That’s typically where I should be resting my head.  Do you also see where Sampson is?

HLAD 4-17-14

Yes, I take my job of keeping the Mama warm very siriusly.

Yes, most nights I wiggle my way between the dog and the wall.  The things I do for my dogs.

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Loud and Clear

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The staples are out!!

Yesterday was the big day.  The day that Sampson got the staples out of his leg.

Really, the staples are coming out? And I can stop wearing the cone? Can Delilah eat it?

Really, the staples are coming out? And I can stop wearing the cone? Can Delilah eat it?

The surgeon took my leash and I said, “Can’t I go with him?”  I was told that typically owners aren’t allowed with the dogs because sometimes the dogs get protective of their owners when they are removing them.

After the staples were removed we met with the Physical Therapist.  We discussed our strategy for Sampson’s recovery.   When she asked, I told her I want him to be able to run and hike off-leash again.   After watching him walk, she feels like he’s still favoring his leg and not walking properly on it.  (I really wanted to say, well when you lay around for 23 hours and 50 minutes a day, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s not walking properly on it.   But I didn’t.)  She gave him some cold laser treatment and we got him in the water treadmill for a few minutes.

I will be working on stretching his hip muscle out, work towards increasing his walks gradually up to fifteen minutes twice a day and continue working with him on his weight bearing exercises.  In two weeks he will begin a two times a week for four weeks therapy program with her.

He has also been cleared to have a bit more freedom in the house as long as we can monitor him and yesterday for the first time in over a month, he got to walk up the street.

He was a very tired, but very happy dog.

Someone, anyone please tell me why I wanted a Lab?

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.  My dogs are going to be the death of me.  Whether it’s worrying me to death, doing something outlandish and giving me a heart attack or tripping me, sooner or later it’s bound to happen.

You all know what a clown Delilah is.  The truth of the matter is I really need a video camera to record every crazy thing she does, because most of her crazy antics aren’t captured on camera.  And there’s really no way I can describe some of the things she does.

Take yesterday.  I noticed Delilah’s nails were horribly long, so I grabbed the nail clippers and took her outside. She does great with the front paws, in fact I say “Paw” and she places her paw in my hand and lets me trim her nails  BUT when it comes to the back feet, she about loses her mind and I’m not sure why.  She thrashes about something fierce, not in an “I’m afraid” kind of thrashing but more like, “Holy Woof I’m pretty sure I’ll get a treat after this is done,” kind of way.

Well I managed to get her first back foot trimmed and then it happened.   She jumped up, smashing her head into my face and jamming my glasses into my eye.  It hurt so bad I immediately started crying.  And then I started cussing. And then I asked myself, “Whatever made me think I wanted a Lab?”

I’m pretty sure makeup will cover the bruising.

As if that weren’t enough, the LaCrosse season started and our field has been turned into a practice course.  Yesterday on our walk Delilah decided to let them know in no uncertain terms exactly what she thinks of them using the field.

I think she was pretty clear, no?

I think she was pretty clear, no?

Don’t worry!  I cleaned it up.  But I had to laugh first.  I couldn’t help it.

Has your dog ever left a loud and clear message?  Did you know this is Thursday Barks and Bytes Blog hop hosted by 2 Brown Dawgs and Heart Like a Dog?  Grab the badge and join the fun.

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