Heart Like a Dog

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

When Pee on the Floor Makes You Happy

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Sunday morning, my day to sleep in, Delilah woke me up at 4:00 am, to go outside. I took her out, she peed and then we went back inside. I’d just settled into bed, when she barked at me again.

I swore at her, but got up and took her out. This time she just stood at the door, nose in the air, sniffing.

I called her back in, coaxed her onto the bed, and tried to go back to sleep. After about 10 minutes, she seemed calm enough, so I thought I’d turn over.

That pissed her off, she growled at me and jumped off the bed.

Needless to say, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep after that. I lay awake thinking what was the reasoning behind this? Was there something outside? Was something wrong with Mom? Did Delilah have a UTI?

I dozed off and married those two ideas in my dreams. Which equates to something wrong with Mom and Delilah peeing on her.

Don’t feel bad, I’m shaking my head here too.

I watched Delilah intently on our morning walk. She squatted frequently, but very little came out.

I’ll just sleep through this bit, if you don’t mind.

Crap! I wondered if she had a UTI.

Signs of a Urinary Tract Infection:

  • Urinating frequently
  • Peeing in the house
  • Blood in the urine
  • Dribbling pee
  • Crying when peeing
  • Straining to urinate (this can be tricky, because dog straining and people straining are two different things. With dogs this simply means they are squatting often, but nothing is coming out. When humans strain…let’s just not go there, okay?)
  • Obsessive or frequent licking of the genitals

I watched her when we got home, but there was no urgency, or frequency to go out.

Again I asked myself, WTF?

On our evening walk, I watched her again. Again she squatted frequently, and again only drops came out.

My WTF turned to what the actual fuck?

Before smart phones, I would have called Jen, or my vet’s office. OR I would have called Jen while waiting for my vet’s office, but instead, I pulled out my phone and consulted Dr. Google. Can dogs have urinary blockages?

Turns out they can. Now my watching bordered on obsession. What happens if a dog can’t pee? Bladders aren’t balloons,  I mean, that little tiny bladder can only hold so much? Will her body start absorbing her pee? Can her bladder pop?

Signs of urinary tract blockage:

  • Straining to urinate
  • Urine stream can be interrupted or cloudy.
  • Your dog may feel lethargic.
  • Vomiting may occur.
  • Lack of appetite.
  • Crying out when trying to pee.
  • Soreness or tenderness in the abdomen.

I read the signs to watch for, and while I was rubbing her belly I took the time to gently push it see if she had any discomfort.

She looked at me like I had just sniffed her ass, but she didn’t seem uncomfortable.

I decided to take the wait and see approach, and instructed Hubby to watch her when she peed, to make sure she had a good stream.

At dinnertime, everything seemed fairly normal. She was bouncing around like a fool, waiting for me to dish it up. After their food, I gave them their pumpkin and started working on Sampson’s “go-go” juice. Suddenly Delilah darted to the door. This is unusual because she typically waits around to make sure she gets her applesauce, and then she licks Sampson’s bowl. Sometimes she licks the bowl between each course, so running to the door is rare.

“SHE HAS TO GO OUT,” I shouted to Hubby.

He opened the door, and out she ran.

I kept working on Sampson’s juice, then I put Delilah’s applesauce in her bowl, and waited for her to come back.

“Did you see her pee?” I asked him.

“No, she was too quick, she ran out and around the corner.”

She’s just too fast for his old bones.

When I went to pick up her applesauce bowl, I turned on the light, and that’s when I noticed it.

She HAD peed.

On the floor. And it was a good amount.

She has peed on the floor before, and (knock wood) it happens at dinnertime. I think she’s too focused on food, then all that jumping around and it’s too late, she just can’t hold it.

Oh, she tries to get to the door, but the trouble with that is she’s already peeing…so there’s a trail. If only I could teach her write her name while she was peeing.  Wouldn’t that be something?

For the record, I said to Hubby as we were standing on a towel trying to absorb the pee, “Well at least we know she peed.”

One day, I’ll make a list of things I never thought I’d be happy for. Pee on the floor will be right there at the top.

Disclaimer: I am not a vet. I don’t play one of TV, and I did NOT stay at a Holiday Inn recently. The symptoms listed above are not written to provide you to self-diagnose a urinary blockage in your dog. If you even suspect your dog may have a blockage please take them to licensed veterinarian AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. Delaying diagnosis and treatment can be the difference between life and death.

 

Just When You Think You’ve Mastered Something…

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Sunday, my niece and I met some friends in Boston for the afternoon. We left for home around 5:45, and after hitting some traffic, and dropping her off, I arrived home after 8:30 pm.

Hubby had fed the dogs and made dinner for me, so after dinner we headed out for a quick walk so the dogs could potty.

When we walk the dogs together, Hubby is in charge of Sampson and I have the D-Dog.  I have to go on the record here and say, I do not like walking the dogs together.

This is not fun for any of us.

Delilah walks too fast for Sampson, and Sampson walks too slow for Delilah. Even with Hubby walking Sampson, he still wants to keep up and be with me, and he pushes himself too hard.

When Hubby walks Sampson, he also walks him off-leash. While Sampson listens well off-leash, I still don’t care for it. I don’t care for it, for two reasons.

  1. Sampson can go much farther than I like into someone’s yard.
  2. You just never know when something wild and crazy can happen.

Okay, I’ve set the scene.

Delilah and I are leading the charge, and I’m doing my best to rein her in. Sampson is behind me, and he’s doing his best to keep up.

After a few minutes both dogs have done their poops, and Sampson has just inched way too far up on someone’s lawn, and taken another dump.  As I’m bending to pick it up, I see someone on the same side of the street as us, and I can tell they have a dog. I also note there is someone sitting out on their front step, so I say to Hubby, you need to leash him up, because there are people in front, and people behind and the ones behind us have a dog.

I am already in avoidance mode with Delilah, so we cross the street, and I give her a couple of treats.

As the pair approach, I can see it’s the young guy who lives up the street, and has a Bernese Mountain dog. Really nice guy, sweet dog, but I just can’t vouch for how much training either one of them has had.

Hubby is in the middle of the street with Sampson, and Delilah and I are on the opposite side. She is sitting in front of me, focused on getting some treats.

I wave to the dog, “Hi Bear!” (His name is Barry, but considering his size, I just call him Bear.)

Dave (Barry’s owner….I wish he’d named the dog Buster) smiles and asks, “Can he say Hello?”

This gives me hope, because at least he knows enough to ask.

Now…neither one of my dogs has ever learned the proper way to meet and greet. In the obedience classes we went to, dogs were just allowed to run up to each other, and that usually worked out well…in a classroom situation. But outside of the classroom, well….we do live in DADO center, and most of our encounters have been off-leash dogs that just run strait up to them. Since Sampson’s gotten older, and less mobile, AND Hubby is with him, I feel fairly certain HE can handle it.

BUT, I’m not letting Delilah anywhere near the dog, so I say, “He can, but she’s not always good with other dogs.”

Sampson and Barry sniff each other, and the greeting/meeting goes well. Delilah is still oblivious to what’s going on, because she’s still focused on the treats.

Meet and greet over, and Hubby and Sampson start walking towards us to head home, when Delilah suddenly registers Barry.

She lunges at him.

Thankfully, I’ve had years of practice at catching her before she jumps into a fray, so I shortened her leash. She still wants at the dog, so I grab her harness to keep her from ripping my arm out of its socket.

At this point, Hubby and Sampson have reached us, and she’s still ready to roll. I’m not sure if she was in a “I want to meet you” mode, or “I’ll take a piece of that” mode, but I wasn’t ready to find out.

Believe it or not, I really wasn’t all that upset with her reaction to Bear. Hubby and I have long suspected her vision isn’t great.  Since her Endothelial Decompensation diagnosis, I’ve really been observing her, and I think she has a hard time seeing certain things. She sees a white treat on a dark driveway far easier than she sees a dark treat.  Since Barry is a dark colored dog, and it was at night I suspect she really didn’t notice him at first, and when she did she was startled.

Maybe that’s just the Pollyanna in me.

When You WTF Yourself

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The dogs have become use to going potty on our walks, especially Sampson. Delilah will go out in the yard, but with Sampson’s bad legs, he mostly only does his business on our walks, which happen twice per day.

Like the majority of the country, the northeast has been hit with a vicious heat wave.

Up until Sunday, we were managing walks ok.  Morning walks are tolerable, although I can’t say I’m a fan of boob sweat or swamp ass at 5:30 in the morning, but at least the temps are in the 70’s.

Sunday was supposed to be the worst day, but we managed a morning walk just fine. In the afternoon it got blazing hot.  It was 98° at 5:00 pm.

When it’s super hot and humid, I modify our afternoon walks. By modify I mean, I usually shorten them, or wait until the sun has started its descent so the pavement is cooler, and we walk uphill, where the shade is.

I thought if I drove the dogs up to the woods, we would have some relief from the heat, and Sampson could enjoy a walk in one of his favorite places. It would mean shortening Delilah’s walk, but with her heart issues, I was fine with that. I brought some water with me, and gave them both water every couple of minutes.

By the time I realized this wood walk wasn’t a good idea, it was too late, we were already at the turn around point. My first clue was the way Sampson was lagging behind, but he was sniffing and Delilah was pulling so I missed that signal.

Then he lay down on the path. Shit! We had to turn around and head back home. It was all down hill so I thought he’d be okay.  (In retrospect, I should have called Hubby and had him meet us at the top, but that’s in retrospect.) By the time we were approaching the car, Sampson’s back end was giving out, he had that sloping walk that today’s GSD’s have and every time he stepped on his bad leg, his hip sank. I was afraid he was going to collapse.

I helped him into the car, and watched his ‘good’ leg knuckle. I just about threw up at that point. I gave him some more water, and drove home.

I got him out of the car and coaxed him to the back door, and pounded on the door for Hubby to come out and help him. He got him about three feet inside the door, and he lay down again. He was panting really hard. (Sampson, not Hubby. Hubby was smart, Hubby stayed inside.)

Hubby brought the water bowl over to him, and gave him some water, then he moved the fan so it was blowing on him.  We had the air conditioning on, but it was so hot, that the air inside the house was still in the upper 70’s to low 80’s.

A cool, refreshing drink.

I wanted to take a quick, cool shower, so I left Sampson in front of the fan.

While I was in the shower, I was thinking about Sampson. We don’t have a bathtub that is low enough for him to climb into, so I contemplated bringing him in the shower with me, but I was afraid of him slipping on the tile and hurting himself.  I wished we still had the little wading pool.  Lying in the little pool would help him cool down. I thought about the times on our hikes, when he would put his belly in the stream.

Then a light bulb went off, and I thought, “A cool, wet towel on his tummy!”

I hopped out of the shower, grabbed a hand towel and soaked it with cool water.

Sampson was still lying on his tummy, so I rolled him onto his side and draped the towel over his stomach. The fan was positioned to blow on him, but he was still panting.

I finished my shower, and checked on him again. The towel was still cool, and he was still panting.

I texted Jen, “Help, I fucked up.”

She asked if I’d taken his temperature.

I’m embarrassed to say, I don’t even have a thermometer.

She told me to not let the towel absorb his body heat. To keep checking it and refreshing it, so it stayed cool.  She also said I could rub his gums with an ice cube, and cool his paw pads with cool, but not super cold water.

By now, about an hour had passed and he wasn’t panting continuously, but in smaller increments. I tried rubbing an ice cube on his gums, but the little shit ate the ice cube. I took the towel and wiped his paws.

I felt like the crisis had past, but I didn’t encourage him to move. I was concerned about feeding him his dinner, but he stood up fine and didn’t seem to be having the same problems with his legs.

While we were eating our dinner, he got up and moved into the living room.

I don’t think it was heat stroke, or heat exhaustion, but I do think for Sampson the heat and exercise was just too much for him. I told Hubby, “From now on, when it’s that hot, walks will be after the sun goes down, and if it’s still too hot, it will just be enough to do their business.

Moral of the story, don’t walk your dog when it’s almost 100°, it’s not worth their life. Or the time you shave off your own, thinking you killed your dog.

For some great tips at keeping your dogs cool during the hot months, check out what Jen had to say on this My Brown Newfies post.

 

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