Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

I'm Gonna Change My Name to 'Buzz Off!' or 'Shut Up!'

Remember yesterday when I mentioned that Chichi was upset with our dog, Taz, for stealing her croissant? Well something good came out of that!

As also mentioned previously, Chichi's speech is delayed. With therapy, words are starting to come, although a little slow for my liking.

However, today, while Chichi was walking around with the last frickin' croissant that I will never buy again, new words came out!

She wandered out into the foyer, where Taz predictably followed. Chichi didn't run, and Chichi didn't cry. What Chichi did do is demonstrate to her speech therapist that she actually can learn with enough repetition.

The few words and phrases in Chichi's vocabulary now include, "GET DOWN!!!!!!"

Taz actually obeyed!

With repetition being key, you should know that shouting actual obscenities at our dogs will undoubtedly precede the word, 'Mama'.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Just When I Thought She had No Sense of Smell...

Pumpkin has a blanket that is the most important thing in her world. The unfortunate thing about a security blanket is that it tends to get really grimy as it gets dragged around everywhere and anywhere. The other issue is that it is difficult to wash without causing a major tantrum.

The problem isn't with my taking possession of it for an hour while it goes through the laundry cycle. The problem is that after washing, it doesn't 'smell' right to Pumpkin. Sniffing her blanket brings her comfort, even if it smells like, well, I'd rather not even say.

Yesterday during a laundry frenzy, I tried to convince Pumpkin to let me wash her beloved blanket. I may have fibbed and claimed that it smelled like pee, but she wasn't buying it. It didn't smell like pee, but it was still pretty gross from the usual abuse it goes through. Unfortunately, it wasn't a school day, so there was no getting it away from her.

Later that day, Chichi was eating a snack, and my dog, Taz, tried to get it from her. In anger, I gave him a shove. When I shoved him, he fell. To be precise, he fell on Pumpkin's blanket. When he landed on the blanket, he farted.

So I've figured out how to get Pumpkin to beg me to wash her blanket.

Monday, July 05, 2010

But the Dog Came Back the Very Next Day...

When I was 17, my mom went away for a week-end, leaving me in charge of the house while she was gone. She knew that I was going to have my friends over for a drink or twenty, but she trusted me well enough to keep it under control.

Overall I was a trustworthy teenager, but on that Sunday morning after a night of 'debauchery' with my friends, I opened the front door to find our family dog on the porch, waiting to be let in after a night of frolicking and who knows what else. Boy was he dirty! I have no idea how he got out, but I was ever so thankful that he decided to stay close to home. I only confessed this to my mom about ten years ago. I figured that I was too old to get grounded by that time.

Yesterday, Pumpkin couldn't find her favourite stuffed dog. I gave the house a pretty good once over in search of it, but it didn't turn up. I can usually find anything, so I became concerned that she dropped it somewhere in her travels, and that it was gone for good.

This morning when I opened the door to take Pumpkin to camp, we looked down at the front step, and there was her stuffed dog, waiting to come in! I don't know how it got out or how it found it's way back, but I was once again very grateful for yet another locked out dog staying close to home.

I immediately turned to the huz to recount the story of my mom's dog that I locked out all those years ago. He laughed, but there was this unspoken overtone in his demeanor that let me know that it wouldn't be funny if I had done that to his dog. Whatever. I'm not a drunk teenager anymore, so why even think about it. Right?

Later this very same day, after poking my head out the front door to grab the mail, I found myself experiencing the weirdest sensation of not being followed by my shadow dog, Lucky. It was the absence of tripping over her while I puttered around the house that alerted me to something being off. I called out her name, but she was a no-show.

'When I grabbed the mail???', I wondered, as I ran to the front door. Guess who I found on the front step when I opened the door?

Thursday, March 04, 2010

Just Blame it on the Dog

One time I gave Pumpkin a tap on the back-side, and subsequently shouted out my dog's name, as if to blame the dog for being the one to give Pumpkin the tap. Pumpkin thought that this was hysterical, and periodically requests for me to do a repeat performance.

"I want you to give me a smack, and then say, "LUCKY!"

The element of surprise is obviously gone, but the game still seems to hold value to a four year old.

I know that she sees humour in this. One time when I let out a belch (classy, I know) and directed blame towards poor Lucky, Pumpkin didn't miss a beat when she subsequently giggled, "She didn't even say "Excuse me"!"

Yesterday, Pumpkin was playing in the bathroom sink at my mom's place, bathing her plastic dolls as she often does. She knows not to make a mess, although that doesn't always stop her from making one. When she came out of the bathroom, my mom noticed all the water that got tracked out into the hallway. Looking down at the mess that my mom was already eyeing, Pumpkin decided to try out an old trick. Eyes wide with absolute shock, she exclaimed,

"Grandma! McKenzie peed all over the floor!"

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

A Logical Deduction

I have recently been marveling over how my pig-dog, Taz, hasn't stolen any food off of the counter tops lately. The stealing had been an ongoing problem with him that forced us to elevate all food products, including the compost bin, to heights over five feet. We occasionally, absentmindedly have put down our food at a lower height in order to assist a child with something, only to come back to an empty plate, leaving us wondering if we actually ate the food and just didn't remember. This sort of thing seemed to have stopped recently, and I attributed it to our training efforts.


A couple of weeks ago, we had Taz at the vet's to discuss how there seemed to be a lot of strain on his back legs. The vet found nothing wrong, but suggested glucosamine for arthritis. We gave it a whirl. Since then, we have managed to lose a plate of chicken nuggets, several bowls of cereal, at least one waffle, and a pot of rice.


It would seem that glucosamine causes dogs to disregard prior training, and cause them to gain weight. How's that for a scientific study?

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

A Hair Raising Story

You know how some people pre-clean for the cleaning lady? I've been known to do that, although more recently I've said, 'screw it', and let my cleaning lady see us for the pigs that we actually are. I can't seem to maintain this same level of apathy for the dog groomer though.

Taz needs a grooming like nobody's business. There is a problem though. I haven't actually brushed him in about four months. Dogs like Taz should be brushed every week. This problem started when both of my dogs started a shed cycle at the same time, and I only managed to make the brushing time for my other dog. That left Taz to be neglected, until I recently decided to take him to the groomers due to his odor. I figured that I'd give him a couple of brushings first, so I wouldn't appear to be the lousy dog owner that I seem to have become.

Upon sitting down to brush him the other night, I noticed that he was so matted behind his ear, it seemed as if he had another ear growing there. It took me about half an hour to remedy that. Then I started working on his 90 lb body for a while. It honestly doesn't look like I've made a dent in terms of clearing out the shedded fur that is still stuck within his unshedded fur. That aside, there was a growing pile of fur on the floor, that was at least the size of a cocker spaniel by the time I gave up for the night. I guess I have a few more sessions of this before I can book him an appointment at the groomers.

The downside to all this is that despite my doing my best to contain and dispose of the mini-Taz that I created from all his stray hair, my house is littered with dog-hair tumble weeds that generally blend in with the floor, but catch my eye every time a door opens or someone runs by. This is unfortunate because now I feel this obsessive urge to pre-clean for the cleaning lady.