Category Archives: Dog related
Gemma is with us
I stood on the corner with Gavin watching for Bernie and Toni, so many people have missed that turn. They snuck up on us and came from the other direction! Gavin was very excited to meet Gemma. We had a fun evening and after Bernie and Toni left, Gemma wound down and was ready for some sleep. She’s in her crate snoring.
Gavin waiting for his new sister.
The Curmudgeon, “She’s tiny!”
What’s for dinner?
Om nomnomnom!
Checking out the new yard.
You mean all this is ours?
This is where we go in!
Loving the butt scratch.
Almost jumped into his lap!
Hey, do you need some help?
Show me how to do it and I’ll get you out of there!
We are head over heels in love with her.
You all have a good one!
Playing with Dad
I decided that my Daddy needed to play so I hunted for and found my green Holey Roller ball and kept teasing him with it.
Sometimes you just have to make the humans play.
I got him to smile!
You all have a good one!
They say my new sister gets here this afternoon.
This should be interesting.
I’m gonna have a new what?
The Momma and the Daddy say I am going to have a new sister soon. Nope, not a human bean, another pup like me.
I’m all like, I don’t care, where’s the food? Why did you stop to take a picture? I want FOOD.
What do you mean it’s not dinner time yet? (Sigh) I’ll Wait.
Really? Rice on my nose? How many times do you think I’ll fall for that one?
So, anyway this is my new sister Gemma.
How embarrassing.
Malcolm’s Mayhem, life with a Bull Terrier
It’s time to re-blog this:
A friend once asked me, “Why in the world would anyone have a Bull Terrier?” This she’d inquired while observing me take evasive action to protect myself from doggy damage. Her face showed she could tell this was a common occurrence and that she found it a tad unnerving.
My Bull Terrier, Malcolm, took another shot at disaster before I answered. He held a large bone, poised in his mouth like a baseball bat, and barely missed taking out my shin. I unconsciously stepped out-of-the-way of sixty-five pounds of armed, muscled freight train on a ‘bully run’.
“Hey, Bull Terriers may be a bit bizarre, but we’re kindred spirits.”
She emphatically nodded in agreement. “Yes, you’re two of a kind.”
“Besides, life would be dull without Malcolm’s antics and wit,” I added.
She shook her head. “I couldn’t do it.”
I could tell she thought it was only a matter of time before the men in the white coats came to take me away, and that she was glad to be standing outside of my fenced yard.
I felt it was important to show her that Malcolm wasn’t so bad, so I called him to me. Of course, he decided at that moment to go selectively deaf. About the third call, he raced over and sat at my side looking angelic.
Malcolm is obedience trained, and I began to put him through his paces off lead.
“Heel.” He did a perfect job. “Stand.” Again, he was flawless. I even added some of his tricks to the demonstration.
“Now, give me your paw,” I told him.
He sat and held his paw up for me to shake.
“Bang.” He dropped to the ground, rolled over on his back, and played dead. “Sit. Stay.” He jumped to his feet, then sat and remained motionless.
My friend watched with great interest and surprise, exclaiming, “But only a minute ago he was crazy.”
I told her, “no, just being silly and blowing off steam.”
After a short down, I released him and he went tearing around the yard again. My friend felt less sure of my ‘insanity’ until I had to sidestep a four-foot long stick Malcolm had found in the hedge. Then I tripped over the tennis ball he’d strategically placed behind me and landed neatly on my backside.
“Booby-trapped,” I muttered.
“I’ll visit you in the hospital.”
She never was a dog person.
Another holy crap day
I wish I could say I got a good night’s sleep but that isn’t true. Seems that Gavin decided to come down with a case of the severe squirts. We’ve since figured out it was The Curmudgeon’s addition of Patty’s NF food to Gavin’s meals that set Gavin’s tummy off into the terrible squirts.
Instead, I stayed up most of the night again. After I finally went to bed and fell asleep, The Curmudgeon went downstairs to find that Gavin had a squirty problem in his crate. Poor pup. Therefore, I was elected to wash the poop covered dog while The Curmudgeon cleaned the crate. I think I got off easy this time.
With me still in my pajamas, the poop covered dog and I climbed into the shower. I washed and rinsed him three times. Afterwards I called the Vet’s office and made an appointment to take him in. We were going to need the big guns to settle his tummy.
Gavin’s heart and lungs are in great shape, his teeth are not, nor are his claws. Yes, he actually let the vet open his mouth and look at his teeth.
Good news, my new Crock Pot arrived yesterday. You all have a good one!
The Curmudgeon and I are shattered
As a rescue, ten years ago, she came to us with the unlikely name of Cleopatra. A name that, for our rough and tumble breed, was as unsuitable as galoshes on a duck. We quickly changed her name to Patty which later had many variations, the most often used were Patty Cakes and Peppermint Patty.
Her former owner imported her from Rumania and then dumped her on us without a backward glance. I think his wife abused her since Patty was not inclined to make friends with me right away.
Gavin hasn’t realized she is gone yet. He will miss his playmate and couch cuddler.
The Curmudgeon is the most shattered. He was hers. I merely purveyed her meals to her and messed with her ears, claws, and stuff. Yes, she thought of me as slave labor and a pain in the ass. I too will miss our stoic Miss. Mr. Gavin the wuss of the world will, sooner or later, miss her.
Boy, did I get in trouble with the dogs last night…
Sometimes the greatest pleasure is to visit with a dear friend for a while. I went over to G’s last night for a couple of hours. We sat and watched TV, talked, drank some wine, and had a good time.
One of her three cats is my buddy. When I go over there, he’s all over me. Last night he shared a chair with me until I had to kick him off because I got too warm.
Once I went home, I got the canine investigation. Gavin nearly pinned me against the back door sniffing at my pant leg where Smokey had lain alongside me.
“Traitorous Mom. You smell of cat.”
“Yes, G’s cat.”
Patty joined him and continued the investigation.
“Bad Mommy.”
“Yes, I am a bad Mommy. I like Smokey.”
You all have a good one!
Please tell me it’s not time to say goodbye yet
I swear Patty gets older and Gavin gets younger each day. While idiot white dog is prancing about and scolding me for more food all the time, Ms. Patty is off signing up for a SS check or something. She’s slowing down so much it’s as if she were the older dog. Gavin has a couple of years on her.
Like most others who adore their dogs, I find it difficult to watch the aging process on them. I want them to stay around many more years.
Unlike Gavin, Patty’s kidneys aren’t doing all that great. She has some tumors that are beginning to concern us. And this crying in pain off and on brings me to tears. All I can do is make her more comfortable. We are not ready for either of our dogs to leave us yet.
Keep Patty in your hearts and have a good one!
Patty is not well
I guess we didn’t have enough stress in this house. Day before yesterday Patty did a lot of whining all night, very unlike her, poor pup. (Gavin is the whiny butt in this house.) Therefore my instructions to The Curmudgeon was that he make an appointment for her at the vet’s first thing in the morning.
We took her to the Vet’s. A new vet since all our vets retired from the practice. Thank goodness she has French Bulldogs and is familiar with how stoic the bully breeds are. Too stoic, she would not tell her doctor where she hurt. All the vet could tell was, she had less range of motion than normal when she moved Patty’s head up, down, and side to side. Not one yip or whine did the pup make in front of her new vet. Not a good thing. She showed her doctor nothing to give a hint to the degree of pain she’s in.
A listen to her chest found a new problem, a heart murmur, stage 4. Now we know why she almost passed out while rough housing with Gavin a few weeks ago. After her syncope incident I wouldn’t allow too much play on her part.
She’s medicated, still whiny (at home), and on plenty of rest. We hope we can at least relieve her pain and get her feeling better.
Now I have to keep track of The Curmudgeon’s medications, my medications, and Patty’s medications.
Would it be possible for us to have at least one stress free week in the future?
You all have a good one and please keep Patty in your thoughts. She can use the help.
Uh oh, da mumma said ears
The Curmudgeon ran out of jelly beans the other day. I need to go get more, not so much for him as for the dogs. Yes, they each get a half of ONE every couple of days or so when his candy dish has some in it. Gavin and Patty will often try to get him to eat some so they can have theirs. Funny to watch two dogs sit in front of the stereo cabinet and stare at the glass candy dish on top of it.
I’ve been working on getting Gavin and Patty’s ears clean this week. Gavin will not let you work on his floppy ear at all. Therefore he gets drops in that ear. Once Patty sees me grab one of the ear cleansing cloths from the container or sees me pick up the drops, she’s gone into hiding.
Today was no different. I called Gavin into the kitchen to clean his ears and Patty disappeared. Someone had shut her crate door, so she dove into the back of Gavin’s crate. He was not amused later when he started to go into his crate only to find her there.
Daddy, you haz candy?
Is dat cake?
Patty sez, “It beez my birfday Dad, iz dat my birfday cake?”
Gonna gibs us some ob dat?
Maybe iffen we do pitiful face.
“Gabin you needz to look more pitiful like me.”
Gavin sez, “Dat’z it girl werk it!”
They did get some crumbs in the end.
Someone is feeling better.
Always the Daddy’s girl.
Patty is much improved from Sunday night. There have been no more let’s scare Mom and Dad incidents. She has taken advantage as is typical of a bull terrier. She’s been back in Daddy’s chair, a practice we stopped after the second chair had to go back to the store. Not from her, but from the poor workmanship. (Lazy Boy chairs are not what they used to be, their quality is way down.) Chair number 3 has its problems too but we’re sick of having to call them about the chairs. Next one, we buy elsewhere, and a different brand.
You done with that bone yet?
Doggonedmysteries 