Heart Like a Dog

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

What's Going On Here?

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The other night Sampson got up off the couch and went to lie at the top of the stairs. This is his station when he is waiting for one of us to come home.

Except we were both home, sitting on the couch.

I got up off the couch very quietly so I could take the picture and then I peered down the stairs to see if my suspicions were right.

Yup, Bob was at the bottom of the stairs.

I can’t figure this dog out, some days he won’t walk thru a door if the cat is on the other side, some days he will blast thru the door to chase the cat.

So what was he doing the other night?  Was he daring the cat?  Was he guarding his domain?  Or was he watching the cat to make sure he wasn’t being naughty?

I can’t tell.   Any insights?

Book update: My book has 7,779 words.

Death By Chocolate – Part Two

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If you missed the post about Delilah’s first attempt on my life, you can find it here.   Since she failed in her attempt to kill me by force, she decided her next attempt would be to give me a heart attack.

Before you read any further, I will let you know that we are all fine.

I had planned on walking the dogs this morning, but needed a quick trip to the post office.  I was gone from the house for 20 minutes, 25 minutes tops.

I came back grabbed a cheese stick to munch on and started gathering all the items I use on our walk.

Cell phone, pepper blaster, treat bag, keys. (The poop bags are missing.)

I noticed the dish rag was on the floor.  I picked it up, looked at Delilah and said, “Why is this here?”  She turned her back and ignored me.

I went to the area where I keep our walking things and then I noticed this.

Of course this is how it looks after I picked it up, I was so freaked out that I didn’t think to take a picture.  Why?  Because before it was destroyed and consumed it had at least two to four of every one of these inside it.

I remember saying, “Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God” while I looked frantically for the vet’s phone number.

I finally found it and called the vet, our conversation went something like this:

Me: Hi this is Jodi Stone, Delilah just ate a whole bunch of supplements and other stuff.

Angie: OK, what did she eat?

Me: Well flax seed, calcium, vitamins, some Benadryl, some Omeprazole, and some adrenal support supplements.

Angie:  OK, let me see if a Dr. or vet tech is available to speak with you.

Me: Ok.  Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God.

Angie: OK, I spoke with Dr. B, she thinks Delilah will be OK, but just to be on the safe side, you should make her vomit.  You can either bring her here or do it at home.

Me: Well how do you make her puke?  (I mean I’ve heard of people puking their dogs before, but in all my years of owning dogs, I’ve never done it.)

Angie:  Dr. B says a quarter to half a cup of Peroxide.  Start with a quarter cup and if she doesn’t vomit, give her the other half.  If that doesn’t work, you will need to bring her in.  Give her a little water after you give her the Peroxide.

Me: I don’t know if I even have Peroxide.  (As I’m talking, I’m walking to the bathroom and checking under the sink.)

Me: OK, I have some.  Now how do I get her to drink it?

Angie:  Well when I had to give it to my cat, I used a syringe.

Me: OK, I’ll see what I can do, if I can’t get her to puke, I’ll call you back.

Angie: Call us back either way.

After we hung up I began rummaging thru the cupboards, thinking how many times I will need to fill the syringe  to give her a quarter of a cup.  That’s when I remembered Mr. Honey Bear.

Yes, I saved the bear that my honey came in because I thought it might be something fun for my grandson to drink out of when he was at my house.

Mr. Honey Bear worked great.  But she wouldn’t take any water.

And then we waited.  Of course Delilah was all kinds of pissed off at me.  I tried to keep her off the deck so the vomit would be on the ground and I kept stroking her and telling her it was OK.  Her stomach heaved once, but she didn’t puke.

After five minutes I called the vet’s office back.  Of course I couldn’t remember who I talked to, so I asked them to ask around and I ended up with Angie again.  I told her she’d had the quarter cup and hadn’t vomited and asked how long I should wait before giving her the second quarter.  Angie said it should be pretty immediate and if five minutes had passed and she hadn’t puked, I should give her the rest.

I hung up and filled Mr. Honey Bear again.  Delilah didn’t want anything to do with me, she walked around, then went to tinkle, right after she tinkled she turned around and puked.

Thank God.

I’m still not sure what happened to my cheese stick.

Book Update: My word count is the same as yesterday.

Heavens To Murphy!

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Today’s post is about a dog named Murphy.   Murphy is a yellow lab who sometimes goes to daycare with Sampson and Delilah.

When I first met Murphy I thought she was about seven or eight years old.  Why?  Because Murphy looks like she is much older.  For one thing, she has that spread that a lot of labs get in their later years. 🙁

Murphy’s mom (K) absolutely adores Murphy, so she denies her nothing.  K told me that Murphy only gets one cup of kibble twice per day, but her problem is the treats.  When Murphy comes to K for food, K gives her treats.

K and her husband are both older folks, I can’t guess people’s ages anymore but I would say K is somewhere in her 60’s.   K has absolutely no control over Murphy because Murphy has K wrapped around her tail.

About 6 weeks ago I found out K had been cited for not keeping Murphy under control.

When I ran into K at daycare she told me what happened.  K was walking Murphy and she saw a woman with a dog approaching.  She could tell by the ‘look of the dog’ it was a pit bull, and she is terrified of pit bulls, so she froze.

The approaching woman sensed her panic and said, “Perhaps we should cross the street,” which she did.

As the woman and her dog crossed the street, K isn’t really sure what happened but Murphy took off after and bit the other dog.   So K got a ticket and was warned about Murphy’s aggression.

I always want to be respectful of other people and their dogs, so I said, “Can I be honest with you?”

“Oh yes, of course” was her response.

I outright told her that Murphy is overweight and perhaps because she is overweight she doesn’t feel well.  K acknowledged Murphy was overweight and that is when she told me her problem with treats.

We discussed K bringing Murphy to our Thursday night drop in obedience class, so K could get some help with managing Murphy.

K said she would try to get Murphy to class but they only have one car and her husband has activities on Thursday nights.

We never saw K at class.

During last week’s Thursday night obedience class I was filling Sara in on my little New Year’s Eve fall.  Sara had a story of her own to share.

K was in the hospital with a fractured skull because Murphy had knocked her down on one of their walks.  Apparently Murphy stayed right next to K on the sidewalk until someone came along and  K was able to stay conscious long enough to tell the good Samaritan where to take Murphy.

Last I heard she was expected to be released soon, and the Dr. has told her she can no longer walk Murphy.  I wonder what will happen and if this fall is enough of a wake-up call for K.

Do you have any thoughts or suggestions that might encourage K to do the right thing for Murphy?  I really think she’s a sweet dog.

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