my dog wears my clothes

I have heard about separation anxiety in people but never really thought it could apply to my dog.  Everyone says that Buckeye (who is now 2 years old) is ridiculously attached to me, but I just fluffed it off as non-sense.   When my mom stayed with me she said that he would sit from the time I left at 7 am for work to the moment I walked in the door at 4pm by the front door staring out of the side light window.  She knew when I was near the house because he started crying and carrying on running like a maniac from room to room jumping from couch to couch and in her words “announcing I was home”.  

As soon as I would walk in the door he would bully his way past my other two dogs and jump into my arms. He literally would stand on his hind legs (making him just a few inches shorter than me) wrap his front paws around my neck, tuck his head into my shoulder and just hug me like he remembered that I saved him by adopting him.  At first I thought it was so cute, but then his anxiousness started to turn destructive.

He went from waiting for me all day to getting annoyed that it was taking too long to get this work thing over with. Now don’t get me wrong – when I got home I got the same loving honeymoon greeting, however, I would also find my shoes eaten, the bread from the counter top on the ground and thrown all around – but not eaten??.  He worked his way though all my shoes, my roommate’s shoes, my mother’s shoes, purses, wallet and credit cards. He tore apart every single one of his stuffed animal toys – when he started to poop fluff I knew there were not going to be any more stuffed animal toys purchased for him.  Then there was the wall – which I learned very quickly how to patch drywall – to say the least my patience was getting thin.  But how can you get angry when he greeted me with such love when I walked in the door. And those big sweet eyes filled with love.

My little Pekinese Munchkin (annoyed that there were no toys left for her to play with) is terrified of rain storms and especially thunder.  Living in Florida, this is often an issue during the summer rainy season.  Ok, I haven’t lost my mind. Just bare with me and I promise it is related to the Buckeye story.  My best friend saw on Animal Planet TV, a vest that is called a “compression vest” which in theory makes the animal feel protected by being wrapped and warm.  Well instead of buying the vest I tried putting on one of her little sweaters during the storm and to my amazement she didn’t shake or hide.  That got me to think, hmmmm wonder if this could work for Buckeye and make him feel secure. I also remembered how he would drag my dirty clothes around with him while I was gone so I figured what the heck I would give it a try.

Of course being a 73 pound Rottweiler mix, he didn’t have a little doggie sweater hanging around.  So after I woke up and got ready for work- I took the pajama top that I wore overnight knowing it had my scent on it and put it on Buckeye.  I tied his collar through the short sleeves to keep them from dragging on the floor and gathered and tucked the bottom then put a hair tie around it (so he didn’t pee on it if he went outside).  I had coated a bone with peanut butter and put it in the freezer over night and handed I it to him (and one to each other dog also).  He happily ran off with the bone and ignored me when I left for work.

I checked in with my roommate and my mom several times during the day.  They said he was like a different dog. My mom even had the nerve to ask me if I had drugged him.  I asked what did she mean?   I was told that he has been calm all day. He hadn’t destroyed anything, just slept peacefully on the couch, and let them know when he needed to go out.   Calmly chewed on his bones and deer antler chew but didn’t cry, bark or pace.

Not sure if it was just a fluke I tried it for a week with the same results.  I think I was on to something.  Just to test it- one morning I didn’t put my sleep shirt on him. I came home to two couch pillows torn to shreds.  

Needless to say – I now share my clothes with my dog on a daily basis.

BAZOOKA BUBBLE GUM

When I was a kid I loved bazooka bubble gum.  I know the taste didn’t last long and after a few minutes it was like chewing a piece of tar – but the first few chews were pure heaven. At least that’s how I remember it. I haven’t seen it in a while in the stores and certainly not the 2 cents I used to pay for a piece.  So I was so excited when I went to the pharmacy and saw they sold it in a small pack. I happily bought the pack and put it in my car so I would have it when I wanted a piece.  I kept it in the little side pocket on my driver’s side door and used it sparingly since it’s not easy to find anymore.

Buckeye loves to go for car rides. All my dogs do,  but Buck really really loves them. In fact if you just mention going for a ride you had better already be prepared to leave with your keys in hand otherwise he practically knocks you over jumping with joy.  He just can’t contain himself.  Once he is in the car he is calm (unless he spots another dog or we are parked in a space – that’s when my goofy dog who is afraid of a paper bag becomes the master protector of the vehicle- save that for another story).  I think that all the jumping around, barking running back and forth to the front door to where I have the leashes hung up tires him out. But the moment you mention a ride all hell breaks loose in the house.  He starts jumping and barking I swear its the sounds of pure happiness in his bark – it’s almost impossible for him to sit still long enough for me to click his leash on. And when I get the leash on the other dogs he grabs them and drags them to the front door also as if they forgot their way outside.

Well we all get loaded up in the car on our big adventure to the post office to mail a package – living in Florida I never leave my dogs in the car for any length of time – it gets too hot and they could die of heat stroke in only a few minutes, a very painful awful death and these are my babies.  I always wait till the late afternoon when it cools off to even think of taking them in the car.  Even then I still take a second set of keys to leave the vehicle running – no one is going to get near the car with Buckeye guarding it.

All three dogs know there places in the car. Almost like children knowing assigned seating.  The husky Zorro being the biggest (yes he is fat and overweight) sits in the back with both sides of windows open and walks back and forth between the two windows.  Buckeye gets the passenger seat, usually sticks his head out the passenger window letting the breeze hit his face and the slobber go flying backwards sometime even hitting the husky when he sticks his head out the back window on the same side – not very pretty by the time rides are finished. Munchkin is the easiest and most compact – she’s my 11lb Pekinese who just sits like a queen on an orthopedic pillow wedged in-between the two front seats covering what would have been cup holders.

It’s only a short ride but the dogs are so happy you would have thought I drove them across country.  I get to the post office – leave the car running with air-conditioning on, windows only open enough for them to get noses out, doors all locked and I run in to go mail my package before they close.  I parked right in front of the big glass doors so I can keep an eye on them from the counter.

That was quick; all finished now back to the car to drive home.  Hmmmmm something is weird usually Buckeye greets me at the window all excited that I have returned to the car.  But he’s sitting in the back, the very very back of the car, and lying down with his paws covering something and his head on his paws.  I go to the back of the hatchback and open it up so I can see what he has because, he is obviously hiding something – and looks guilty as sin.

I call him over, he gets up -  but hesitantly which means the darn dog knows he did something he shouldn’t have…. And there I see it my bazooka bubble gum box shredded all over the back – the majority of the gum chewed up and gone – bubble gum in the dogs hair and caught in between his teeth, his breath smelled like bubble gum and his one ear was stuck to the side of his head glued together by a piece he must have chewed and tried to get out of his mouth only to get it stuck in his hair.  Then I notice the other dogs who were both now sitting up in the front seat looking at me and wagging their tails, mouths wide in a grin as to say – mom it was all Buckeye, we didn’t do a thing, we are good dogs and buckeye is a bad bad dog……but the two of them have gum stuck in their hair also……l quickly pick up what’s left of the pieces of gum and the shredded box and toss them into the garbage at the post office. I know now what’s in store for me when I get home – I have to bath all three dogs and try to get gum out of all their hair without chopping up with scissors, making them look like a puppy punk rock band.

The entire drive home I kept picturing in my head the sort of contortionist position buckeye would have had to put himself in and the dexterity he would have needed to pull out the box of gum (without dropping anything in the front seat) because it was stored folded over, in the side pocket of my driver’s side door that actually sits low to the floor wedged in between the door and the driver’s seat.  In order for him to get that he would have practically been standing on his head upside down on his paws and somehow wedged his long snout down the side of the driver’s seat to work the box up to the top of the pocket to finally get it out and then had to dodge the other two dogs to get it into the back of the car. 

 All this and chew the gum and destroy the box in the less than 5 minutes I was in the post office.  The mental picture of him achieving this made me laugh and shake my head.

And people wonder why I prefer to usually leave the dogs home and not just take them for “only a short ride and it will make them soooooo happy”…..ughhhhhhhhhh

FROG IN THE TOILET

FROG IN THE TOILET

What is it with dogs that they always chase the things that freak us out the most? 

 Living in Florida there are a wide variety of creepy crawly kind of creatures.  Two things that I just can’t stand to be near are snakes and frogs, both very abundant in this state.  It never ceases to amaze me the folks that say “snakes are good for the environment” this may be so and I do appreciate whatever benefits they may have to offer but that doesn’t mean I have to make nice with them.  There are several poisonous snakes possible to encounter and for those that say they are more afraid of you then you are of them –obviously haven’t seen my reaction to being in the same vicinity with one.  And yes, I have seen the posters about how to tell which is poisonous and which are not – let me make this perfectly clear – I have no intention of getting that close to be able to tell.

The next creepy critter – the Florida FROG!  OK, I am not quite as terrified of frogs as I am of snakes, but they just make me shutter, and some of them look so darn slimy - ewwwww.   So, now that you have a minor introduction let me tell you my story.

My dog Buckeye seems to think that frogs are put here for his amusement and somehow mistakes them for toys.  Every time I let him outside at night to go potty he seems to be able to spot a frog from a mile away.   This frightens me, because some of them excrete a poison that can make him very sick or even kill a dog – this just adds to my disdain for them.  So while he is bouncing up and down (with the frog) trying to grab them with his paws, I am usually screaming on the side lines for him to stop…..nope just like everyone else – he ignores me.  And then that fateful day happened…..

Like usual, Buck is trying to catch a frog – this time a giant bullfrog – and I am trying my best to grab Buckeye before he can actually succeed in his capture.  What I failed to do was close the back door to my house when I went running for Buckeye.  In trying to escape from the dog the frog hopped right into my house.  I freaked!  I went running for a broom or something but I couldn’t find it.  Buck happily followed me thinking I was finally joining in his games but we couldn’t find the frog.  I looked everywhere I could think.  I moved furniture around. I went room to room, but nothing.  Buck followed my every foot step enjoying this new part to his game.  My other two dogs just sat in the living room and stared at the spectacle I made of myself.  They must have found it amusing and were wondering who was jumping higher me or Buckeye?  They made no indication that they had seen the frog, after I started to calm down, I came to the conclusion that the frog must have just hopped out of the house as quickly as it hopped in.  I breathed a sigh of relief and continued with my day.  I kept glancing around to see if I could find the frog – just in case.

Several hours pass, it’s almost time for bed and much to my relief there is still no sign of the frog.   I take my shower, get changed and go to bed.  I finally fall asleep and not soon after of course in the middle of the night I need to go to the bathroom. Half asleep I make it to the bathroom, sit down, feel the relief of making the toilet and not having an accident on the way, hoping not to nod off on the bowl and then it happened.  All of a sudden while I am peeing something slams hard right into my butt. My immediate response was to jump straight up off the toilet, still in mid stream the pee is now spraying all over the bathroom floor and walls–I am completely freaking out looking desperately to see what the hell hit me.  I stare into the toilet bowl only to see that giant frog sitting in the bowl looking up at me and he looked mad.

I peed right on his head and when he tried to escape he crashed into my ass.  As I start to scream – here comes buckeye to my rescue – jack ass dog is the reason this darn thing is in here in the first place. I am not happy to see him either right now – but does he understand –noooooo he thinks I am playing – so as I jump up and down he mimics me jumping up and down. Bad enough to have a frog in my house, and then to have peed on it – the freaking thing jumps out of the toilet covered in pee and is hopping all over my bathroom. I grab for the broom and sweep his slimy ass out the back door – OK it was more like golf clubbing him with a broom but each hop he just made more length of my house to the door.

 

Finally I open the door and get the ugly thing out of my house and as soon as I open the door my dumb dog chases it and tries to grab it and bring it back in the house.  At least he is starting to know when I am upset because my screeching NO!! got him to stop and come back in the house.  Of course not knowing why I didn’t want to play with his new toy that I was so good enough to find for him, he went onto his bed and sulked.  

Good thing I love that dog because he drives me crazy.

What’s that smell???

I am tired and just got home from work.  It was a long day and very hot I really just want to sit down and relax, but the dogs are relentless and want to go out.

So I let them outside, and go sit with them.  They are so cute running back and forth jumping and playing, it really brings a smile to my face and helps me relax just at the sight of the puppy and how well he gets along with my other two dogs.  I wasn’t sure if he was going to be a good fit, but it works.  Look at him on his back in the submission position giving the Alpha dog respect to my 11 pound Pekinese even though he is already 45 lbs and growing. He still thinks she is the boss even though reality wise he could kill her in a heartbeat. I am so glad they get along and he gives her the respect.

Well, that’s enough lets go inside where I can get changed and sit down and relax.  It’s nice and cool inside, and I really just want to put the day at work behind me.

I give the dogs a treat and while they are eating I go change out of my work clothing.

I return and sit down on my beautiful leather sofa. Boy I worked hard to be able to afford this couch but I do love it.  And then it hits me.

You know that smell, the undeniable wish it wasn’t but someone smells like poo. Oh no and all the dogs are sitting on my couch, who is it, who stepped or rolled in it???

I grab the Pekinese (easiest to pick up and bath if needed) nope it’s not her.

Next is the husky (closest sitting to me) and I’m hoping because he is mostly on the floor just his head leaning on the couch – of course it’s not him, that would be too easy.

I look over my shoulder and there he is, Buckeye –wagging his tale and jumping back and forth on my soft leather couch wondering what this new game we are playing is!!??

I grab at him and he realizes it’s not game, so being the typical puppy he gets frightened and startled that I’m not smiling and he pees where he stands…. Which just so happens to be on my leather couch... I feel myself getting truly aggravated now, it was a hard enough day at work and apparently it’s not stopping yet.  I pull him towards me and smell his face, back and neck…nothing and then I see it. He must have stepped on a huge poop pile but the heat of the Florida sun baked it onto his front paw. I might be in luck, it doesn’t seem to be flaking off or leaving any marks, if I can just drag him outside and hose off his paw I might not have to mop my entire house.

So off we go – out the back door, and I hook him onto the leash so he doesn’t run and get into more poop. I grab the hose and start to spray his foot off. Apparently he doesn’t like the sprayer because it’s like some crazy rain dance he is doing to avoid getting hit by the water so I pull him closer and then it happens.

He is a strong boy being mixed Rottweiler and Doberman, 6 months old and 45 lbs, so he yanks himself away from the leash and jumps up hitting me square in the middle of my forehead with his paw…. And yep you guessed it; it’s the paw that stepped in poo.  My attempt to wash off the paw with the hose did nothing but to soften the hard poop making it soft and nasty and there in the center of my forehead was the perfect imprint of a dogs paw….in poop.

This of course sends me into a spin, totally disgusted and freaked out…and then there is buckeye who is excited and thinking my jumping around is a cue for him to jump around and play which he does right at me, hitting me over and over up and down my chest and stomach and pants with poo covered paws… I was now covered head to toe in poop and not happy.

I grab buckeye and pick him up – didn’t matter now, didn’t need to be cautious I was covered in poop already…we walked straight through the house, me sputtering words I would rather not type all the way to the bathroom and my walk in shower.

As I passed the living room there was my best friend sitting on the rocking chair staring at me in disbelief and knowing better then to utter one laugh or giggle.

I went straight into the shower and bathed both of us….. After we were both clean (and I thanked my friend for cleaning up the pee off my couch) I just sat down and laughed. Buckeye gave me a big kiss on the cheek and I sometimes wonder if he even has a clue. But I do have to give him credit; he most definitely got my mind off of my hard day at work.

The Good Yummas! - or my dogs out smarted me

I have three dogs, one of each size.  My largest dog is a 85 lb Siberian husky, then the smallest is my 11 lb Pekinese and right in the middle is my new guy a rotty mix who is now 6 months old.

We have this routine that as soon as I get home from work they want to go out, they greet me as they are running to the back door to go into the yard.  It’s not that they don’t have someone else at the house who takes them outside its more about the YUMMAS!.    I call them the “good yummas!” lord knows what they put into these things because the dogs are addicted to them.   They are strips of dehydrated pure chicken and the dogs go crazy over them.   Not only do they recognize the bag, they know I keep them in a separate area than the regular treats… only special occasions get the “good yummas”.  So addicted are they that I haven’t been able to get a good nights sleep since the 1^st bag I purchased.

You see, I used the “good yummas” as a training tool to get my dogs to hurry up and quickly complete their doggy doo doo business and then come back inside.  It was a great idea – or so I thought.  I had accomplished my goal – only a little to well….. the dogs will go up to the door to the back yard, paw at the door to let me know they have to go out and then run do their business and quickly come inside.  Then they will run as quickly as they can, sometimes the little one has difficulty rounding the corner on the tile floor and will slide half way across the hallway.  They all try to be the 1^st one to the back of my room where my dresser is. They stare up at the bag sitting on top – there it is , the golden bag – the good yummas.  They can hardly contain themselves as I take one for each and give them to each one. 

And then my plan backfired. 

Somehow the dogs devised their own plan.  I was no longer in charge of the good yumma scheme.  I couldn’t get the dogs to all go out together.  It started with my husky Zorro. He came to me and wanted to go out, he was jumping up at me, running back and forth to the door like it was an emergency and he had to go.  I let him out and tried to get the other two dogs to go.  Nope no one else was interested. They sat on the couch and stared at me like no we don’t have to go.  I really wasn’t paying much attention. Zorro came back rather quickly to the door and barked to let me know he was ready to come in.  as soon as I let him in the other two dogs joined with him in the mad dash to the good yumma stash.   Not wanting to be a bad dog mommy by playing favorites, I gave each dog a treat.  

Approximately 15 minutes go by and my little one started barking at me, and acting like she needed to go out; thinking nothing of it I let her out and stood with her outside while she ran made a quick pee and ran back in.   Once again all three dogs make the mad dash to the good yumma stash.  I tried not to have to walk all the way to the bedroom and stopped at the kitchen treat box. But oh no, they weren’t having any ordinary old dog bones they insisted on the good yumma’s and waited for me to get to the room, not exactly patiently they were barking and howling for me to hurry up.   Once again I gave all the dogs a good yumma’s, this time I only took one and broke the strip into three pieces and distributed it.  The three dogs went back happily to the living room. Once again I sat down and got comfortable and started to watch a tv show.  Before the 1^st commercial came on my buckeye starts barking in my face.  I told him to be quiet and to go lie down.  He started to do the agitated I gotta go dance.  Now I’m getting a little suspect.  There is no way that all three dogs have to go separately all within a half hour.  I told buck he would have to wait, and of course as the insanity starts to take hold of my mind - I start to reason with him.  I ask him very long questions, like “why didn’t you go out with Zorro or Munchkin.?” He just stared at me.  He didn’t answer. I then asked him if “he was kidding?? Or did he really have to go?”  nope, still didn’t give me an answer I could comprehend.  He just wagged his tail, licked my face and ran to the back door and jumped up at the handle several times.  I gave in, got up and let him out. 

He didn’t even go to the bathroom.  He just stood on the opposite side of the door and barked to come in.  I was getting really annoyed, especially when all three dogs jumped up and happily ran to the bedroom to the yummas.   This time I wasn’t pleased. I refused to give them a third yumma.  I told all three of them that I know they must have had some doggie conspiracy theory concocted to keep getting yummas.

The worst is that they try at all hours of the night, so I never get a good nights sleep due to interruptions to go outside.  Problem is I never really know if they have to go or are they just in the mood for a treat. A few times I misread them and didn’t take them out right away – then when I finally let them out they had loose poops and I felt awful that I made the poor puppy suffer.
 

To this day it’s a good yumma contest to see which dogs can convince me to give them the yummas.   Worse yet is my sisters dogs now have gotten into the game so when they visit my sister has a fit because all the dogs hit her up for the yummas.

I guess you can say my dogs outsmarted me, again.