It’s not very often that Charlie the hyperactive slobber dog settles down enough that Tasha the timid poodle will consent to lay down anywhere near him.  And even when he does crash, he usually goes right back into happy puppy mode whenever anybody gets near him.  After a hard day of playing in the yard, he’d crashed in his favorite spot on the futon and we laid Tasha down beside him.  I was surprised that he remained still long enough for me to get the camera and take a few shots.

It’s been almost six months since Charlie showed up, thirsty, hungry, and with a bad case of mange.  If you would have told me a year ago that I’d adopt a mangy pit bull puppy, I’d have asked what you were smoking.  But he’s turned out to be a very affectionate and well-behaved (although certainly not perfect—yet) dog.  It’s surprising how fast we got used to having him around.  I suspect, though, that Tasha and Kameeke the cat don’t feel quite the same way.

Did you ever wonder how much stuffing goes into a standard pillow?  I got the answer today when Charlie decided to de-stuff his pillow.  Well, truth to be told, I found out how much stuffing is in half of a pillow.  The other half is still in there.  I’m hoping that we’re nearing the end of Charlie’s “chew everything” puppy stage.  Fortunately, his destruction has mostly been limited to things like pillows and water hoses, but the disposables are almost gone.  I don’t know what we’ll do if he starts chewing on the furniture.

Anybody know how to get rid of the bright eyes effect from the flash?

Charlie graduated from obedience school today, so now Debra and I are fully trained in basic dog obedience.  We took the 8-week Basic class at PetsMart, where we learned simple commands like “sit,” “down,” and “stay,” along with a bit about dog psychology (such that it is) and the basics about canine health and treatment.  As far as we’re concerned, the class is well worth the cost (about $90), because we learned a lot of good techniques for controlling Charlie.  And Charlie got to learn a bit about socializing with other people and dogs, something that we need to continue working with him on.  He’s a very energetic puppy, and an enthusiastic greeter.  The techniques for calming him down have been well worth the cost of the class.  We’re considering the Advanced training class, where they concentrate on teaching the dog to behave despite distractions.  As Charlie seems to be afflicted with a stubborn streak, and is quite easily distracted, it’s probably a good idea.

Charlie went in for his weekly dip today, and for the first time tested negative for the mites that cause demodectic mange (also called “demodex,” after the mite, demodex canis)  If he tests negative next week, that will be his last dip.  The scabs and bald patches evident in the pictures of July 14 and July 29 are almost completely healed.  There is one small scab on his side that is yet to heal, and the hair on his chest is still a bit thin.  He looks like a completely different dog than the one who wandered into the yard 7 weeks ago.  He’s a healthy and happy dog now.  Three weeks into obedience school, he’s learning how to pay attention, and he’s become much calmer.  He still wants to chase the deer—something we’ve been discouraging since he caught a fawn a few weeks ago.  For exercise he likes to play fetch, and we take him for runs down the block to the stop sign and back (1/2 mile each way)—us on the bicycles and him running beside us.  He’s a very well behaved puppy.  The vet’s age estimate is about 11 months.  Tasha the poodle has learned to get out of his way, and Kameeke the cat has learned to tolerate him.  He’s fully part of the family now, and we’re happy to have him.

Yes, we have a very weird cat.  She’s liked water ever since she was a kitten.  When she was younger, she’d lay in the sink and let you fill it with water.  At 13, she doesn’t go for that anymore, but she still likes drinking out of the faucet and playing in the shower after we’ve finished in there.  And every once in a while, she’ll curl up in the sink.

When we got home from our trip yesterday, we found that our poodle Tiffany hadn’t been eating and was very lethargic.  We rushed her to the vet, who checked her out, diagnosed dehydration and some organ dysfunction, and put her on an IV.  We had to leave her at the emergency clinic overnight and take her back to the vet this morning, where Debra stayed with her all day as her condition deteriorated.  We had to put her on a ventilator late in the afternoon, and it was soon clear that she wasn’t going to get any better.  

We adopted Tiffany and her daughter Tasha about four years ago when Tiffany was 7 years old.  We took them from a home where they spent most of their time alone outside in the Arizona heat.  In return for a little attention and a comfortable place to live, Tiffany gave us her undying devotion.  She would meet us at the door every day when we got home–ecstatic to see us again.  If Debra came in when I was already home, Tiffany would run to me, as if to say “Mom’s home!  We’re a family again!”  She loved to play chase around the couch, or walk down to the mailbox with me.  She was terrified of thunderstorms.  She liked chasing the deer out of the yard.  (Watching a 10 pound poodle chase a full grown deer will make you laugh every time.)  When I was sad or not feeling well, she’d cuddle up and just be there, offering to help in whatever way she could.  Was the little bit of time, effort, and money on our part really fair payment for the joy she brought to us?  I’m not so sure, but she certainly seemed to think so.  No matter what happened there she was, looking up at us with those adoring eyes.

We only had Tiffany for a little over four years, but she meant the world to us.  She lay there on the table in the vet’s office, fully alert, pleading with her eyes for us to make it better.  We cried for a while, telling her that we wanted to, but were powerless to help.  Asking the vet to administer that shot was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but watching as whatever it was killed her slowly and painfully would have been infinitely worse, and unimaginably cruel.

I’m sad today, and I’m going to be sad for a good long while.

My friend Jeff Duntemann read my entry about the dog eating a candy bar from Debra’s purse and sent a note reminding me that chocolate, the primary ingredient in most candy bars, is toxic to dogs.  Fortunately the candy bar (actually it was one of those “sports bars”) didn’t contain any chocolate. I don’t know how much chocolate it takes to make a dog sick, but seeing as how the largest of our two dogs weighs less than 9 pounds) we tend to keep all chocolate away from them.