The Little Pack

I, for one, applaud the new first dog Bo.  Apparently a few have complained because he is a purebred dog. But these people are overlooking the most important part: he’s a second chance dog! He had a a previous family that did not work out and so he was returned the breeder. Every dog deserves a 2nd (or 3rd or 4th) chance. So often these special dogs are overlooked because people assume the dog must have behavioral issues. This is not always the case. (Let’s leave Cheyenne out of this argument for a moment). There are many reasons why dogs are given away and most of the time it has little to do with the dog and everything to do with the former owners. I am hopeful Bo will serve as a reminder that these dogs can be a great addition to anyone’s home. I am glad Bo has a new home. And something about his sweet, vulnerable face reminds me of Jackson.

So every year I forget that during the winter the snow does not grind down Jackson’s nails and so they grow too long. And by the time spring rolls aroud and the snow melts, he invariably cracks one on the bare ground and it gets infected. We go through this almost every every year, and you would think I would learn my lesson, but so far, I haven’t. This year has been no exception, he landed on a soccer ball and cracked one of his monsterously long nails all the way up the nail. It got infected and we went to the vet the other night. It was bad enough that he needed to go under for them to remove the injured nail.

When Jackson came out of anesthesia, I was reminded of the famous David After Dentist video. I’m quite sure that he would have asked “is this real life?” if he could speak. When I first saw him, his head was on a vet tech’s lap. I started speaking to him and he couldn’t figure out how to move his head the other way to look me. He seemed to be able to move his body in only one direction. Eventually he figured out how to move his head, but coordinating even 2 of his limbs proved difficult. Although he was laying down, he managed to get his legs twisted together and smack his head on the floor. His poor little tongue was caught between his teeth, but thankfully he didn’t actually bite his tongue. It took awhile for him to gain contol of each one of his limbs and then to be able to coordinate the movement of all of them at once. And for the first time, I understood where the dad was coming from in that famous video. Prior to this incident, when I watched it, I felt sorry for the kid and was somewhat in disbelief that the dad was laughing and videotaping it. And then. I’ll admit, I was cracking up while Jackson was coming to. Yeah, that’s right, the whole thing was my fault and then to top it off, I had the nerve to laugh at his misfortune. Just call me Pet-Mom of the Year.

It’s been a long, long couple of days without toys.

The other night, I took Dixie outside. As she was doing her business, I wondered if she had something in her mouth, and upon further inspection, thought my fears were unfounded, so we went in the house. Moments later, I saw something long and dark hanging out of her mouth. I called my husband in for reinforcement. Dixie will bite if you try to take something out of her mouth. It is something we need to work on with her, but at 6 years old, I am not sure if we can break her of it. Its in her little dog DNA. She was bred to hunt little rodents after all. Speaking of little rodents… my husband got her to drop her treasure and excitedly told me to pick it up. It looked like a shriveled piece of poop. It wasn’t. Trying to think quickly and get rid of it before she captured it again,  I  grabbed a sock and picked it up. I suddenly realized that it was in fact, a small, dead, stiff little rodent. For whatever reason, although it was already dead and I wasn’t actually touching it, this freaked me out and I’ll admit it–I panicked! I promptly shrieked and threw the rodent–and the sock–out the front door. Meanwhile, Cheyenne was outside and immediately appeared to investigate what all the fuss was about. We told her no, and to leave it, and I am still in disbelief that she listened. My husband and I are still laughing about this one. Oh God in heaven what the neighbors must think…

Dixie loves this T-shirt. When I first put it on her, she became riled up at once. She immediately raced around, and challenged the other dogs–inlcuding IO, which is never a good idea. I had to remind her that the last time she did that, she came out on the losing end. She was undaunted and tore all throughout the house, proud as can be–tail up, chest out. No one had to tell her, she knew she was hot stuff!

Anyone who thinks that dogs don’t understand choices, has never met my dogs. I give my dogs choices and they seem to understand. Maybe its the urgency in my voice, but when they are given choices, they respond in appropriate ways. For example, tonight, I said “Cheyenne, lay down.” No response. “Cheyenne, you need to lay down if you want love.” Bingo. She laid down immediately. Or the time Jackson was growling and snarling at Cheyenne and I said, “Jackson, be nice, or else you need to get down.” He knows both these commands: “be nice” and “get down” and guess what? he chose “be nice” so he could continue to sit by me on the couch. I don’t do this real frequently, but when I do, I am amazed at the way they respond.