Blog Day Afternoon

My dog is now 4 months old. I heard that  for every year of a humans life it’s seven years of a dog’s life. That means that in two more months my dog will be age equivalent to a three and a half year old. Which means I can enroll him in pre school. That’s what I did with my kids. Hmm, puppy pre-school. It has a nice ring to it. I’m sure they exist in L.A. My doggie is getting calmer and wiser as he matures. The calmer part is miniscule compared to the wiser part. He has not has an accident in the house in quite some time. (knock wood). However, the weather is changing for the worse and his out door duty is completed in record time. He manages to find his spot, do his thing, and  B-line back to the door. He does not pass go or collect 200 dollars.  I like that. I like that he doesn’t like the cold weather. I don’t either. My husband thinks he should have a coat to keep him warm for the winter. I went to the Doggie Conglomerate Depot and saw the wonderful items on display. These  Pelts for Pups cost an arm and a hind leg. My husband the designer, mentioned he could make something for the puppy out of my sons knit stocking cap. It certainly had enough holes in it for Paw Outlets and it was Ninja Black. Trying to put our pup into this rag was our first mistake. It was like fitting a net of Christmas lights over a rose bush. Only this one had a bite to it. By the time we finished our pup looked like he entered the black hole. He emerged like a four legged Masked Marauder walking on hot coals having an epileptic seizure.

This was not going to work. It just occured  to me that I was trying to put a coat on something that already had a coat. This animal is all inclusive. Could you imagine doing this in Alaska with an eskimo dog? Do you think for the Iditarod they don furs for the event. Is it considered animal cruelty not to purchase a hounds regalia prior to the race extraordinaire. And what about the footwear?  er PAW-wear.  My dog was not going out side in his quasi wrinkled ninja skull cap. I think that would humiliate him. I think dressing dog’s up in little Barbie clothes is humiliating for a dog.  I think dog’s like to be dog’s. I don’t think they look at other dog’s and judge what they are wearing much like we humans do. They could care less what other dog’s are wearing, whether is be Jimmy Chews, or Louie BIT-on , or Bark Jacobs, or Vera Wag, or dare I mention Kate SPADE? Ouch.  I think my pup will weather the storm in his birthday suit, just as long as he can dash out in a New York minute. Yeah, he can do his dooty  au natural. And when the snow settles in he can rush back to the comfort of the floor vents that flow every minute costing me a small fortune in fuel. Now, where did I put that stalking cap……..

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Bloggie Style

I got mad at my puppy last night. I mean seeing red mad. I was on the phone with my cell company handling an extremely large bill which they claim I produced. I have never gone over my minutes in the entire ten years I’ve been with this company. I have  a steady plan that I will never change and will never be offered again in my lifetime nor my dog’s lifetime. I tried to change the plan when I moved cross country, but even the competitors convinced me to stay put. Now, that’s a good plan. I was in a heated discussion with operator 1550, not about the overage, but she spent the first ten minutes on my name. No, she was not learning disabled, she liked my full first name, (which I rarely use; for legal purposes only). She went off on a tale of” her grandmother with the same name and her third cousin twice removed wanted the name and got it”. I listened intently and gave my  bored response in between brushing my puppy away from the phone jack. It took her another fifteen minutes to try to convince me to change my plan to something better, and another fifteen minute dissertation on the “wonderful way my children are sticking to their minutes and not going over”.   Here puppy puppy, chew the phone cord, now  let’s play disconnect… good puppy.  Instead of severing my line with the Mobile company my dog decided to pull the paper shredder cord and spill the remnants of  home  made confetti all over the carpet.  I yelled THAT’S BAD!, into the receiver and the agent responded by stating : “T-Mobile does have alternate plans we can offer if I’m not happy with the present one”. GET OUT ! I yelled. The agent replied with a ” Yep, you go girl.. we have many to choose from…”.  GET DOWN! GET OVER HERE!   ” Well I can call my supervisor and see if there are better offers in the future, but I’m not allowed to leave my cubicle”.  BAD BOY, LEAVE! “Well really, that’s no way to address me, I’m a girl, and a simple good-bye would suffice”.  SIT! click.

It is not easy owning a puppy and trying to conduct business. After countless minutes of chasing him in circles I gave up. I was afraid of how I would respond to him after I caught him. I was seeing red earlier but now my eyes were glowing crimson. I sat on the floor in the foyer  staring. Staring like a patient in a psych ward  after having a dose of Thorazine. I watched my puppy run wild around the house and around me completely out of control, snapping, tail wagging, jumping, and dodging around corners. I just sat there helplessly watching because this little sausage shaped mongrel had me beat. If I had a towel I’d a thrown it in, but he would have liked that. He would have grabbed it and run off to a corner to devour it. I felt like crying. I always had control of everything I do. I raised children without breaking down into tears. I have suffered job losses, break-ups, incredible pain, and  death of loved ones. In under one year I moved cross country, gave birth to my son, re enrolled in college to finish  my undergrad, and lost my father to cancer. I did not stop fighting or give up on anything I was doing. I raised an incredible son, I made Deans list in college, and I did it it without breaking into tears. But my puppy has me on the foyer floor whimpering worse than his first two nights of stay with us. I decided to lay out flat on the  Ethan Allen throw rug , arms and legs extended, and gazing upward at the ceiling. I started to think about the dog, and , well, maybe I’m not equipped to handle the  pup. Maybe I’m too old to do this now. These are my golden years, not my golden retriever years. I should be retiring on the Amalfi Coast sipping a glass of  wine from an unmarked bottle of Chianti accompanied by a freshly made Bruschetta. I should be  sitting staring out to the sea smelling the aroma of Italy and listening to the banter of the locals; not the barking of a lunatic pup. I think I made a mistake and I think I am not a good puppy owner. I think I need to return the dog. I think I’ll lay here in the foyer and think some more. I think I need to admit my failure as a puppy owner. I think I’ll lay here until he runs out of steam. My eyes are closed and I’m drifting off to that place where the waiters  wear black and white and speak Italian, and the aroma of Italian food has taken over my libido. I no longer own a dog, I can only hear Italian and smell eggplant parmagana while the ships are pulling in and out of the harbor.  I am there, I am free , I can feel the ocean spray and the cool mist on my face. I can feel…………………………………………………..

My puppy’s wet tongue licking my eyelid and his cold nose investigating my ear. He rolls up into a ball next to me and falls asleep with his head extended across my neck. I can feel his heart beating and the warmth of his body. I can feel his love.

Ciao! Charly!  Di cui una buona doggie?  Pronto per alcuni Puppy Chow?  BENE..

There’s a dog-do on the rise

I like to read my horoscope every day. I don’t know why I just do. I think there could be something in the way the planets align or double up or rise or whatever it is they do, to get an astrological for cast. I know full moons affect people. I’ve seen O.R.’s and E.R.’s in the hospitals go crazy with weirdo’s. I wondered if it might have the same effect on my puppy. I waited in great anticipation one Full moon evening to watch my pup intently for strange behavior. Wait, am I hearing myself correctly? Strange and unusual behavior from a three month old puppy??  Why that’s as standard as a warranty on a newly purchased appliance. Well, I was told by an EDO ( experienced dog owner) that dog’s can exhibit aberrant behaviors during certain celestial activity. i.e full moon, planet alignments, eclipse, or any solar event. This made me think I should consult  a dog psychic or at least read my pups daily horoscope. I’ll opt for the horoscope, I can get that online; albeit the newspaper is in use right now. The first thing I needed to determine is what sign he was born under. We don’t know the exact date of arrival but it happened sometime toward the end of July. We took a vote and we made him a LEO, ( July23-Aug.22). I read his horoscope today and it emphasized the fact that ” there are a lot of treasures to be unearthed.”  No sh*t. All over my property. Well that was fruitless, I went on to read mine and it said: “my hands are full today”. No doubt, picking up all his unearthed treasures. I think these psychic’s have it made in the shade. I’m going to start a Doggie psychic hotline. No wait, that explains my Established Vet a little to well. She predicts everything with regards to my dog, even before we see her. She even knows how much she is going to charge ahead of time and how much she will accumulate off me after her pre-season sale…

I waited for the full moon to appear and I waited for the abnormal behavior of my puppy. I anticipated the worst. I imagined all my family room furniture to have earmarks of doggie saliva. I envisioned an undescovered puppy poop piled high behind  the ceramic umbrella stand in the corner of the foyer. I waited for the non stop jumping into the air as he reached higher and higher with each bounce. I could see him ninja-ing off to the forbidden territory of the office and dragging my husbands portfolio off to a spot where he emulates the shredder. I was waiting and I was prepared. I was waiting for that little LEO to roar. I was armed and ready to do battle. Doggie-style. As the night narrowed in and the harvest moon glowed overhead my pre-pubescent pup simply strolled placidly over to his comfy lion mat and sat and eyed his family with the same anticipation.  He sat and watched as my husband ran around the house trying to locate his keys. He sat and watched as my daughter had a meltdown because I borrowed her boots. He sat and watched as my son ran up and down the stairs wearing his entire LaCross gear, claiming it helps him get in shape for wrestling. He sat and watched as I put two loads of laundry in, studied for my exams, vacuumed the floor, made dinner, loaded the dishwasher, helped with my son’s Chemistry, and located my husbands keys. My dog is not normal. I like that. My dog is equipped with a special sense and psychic ability to know when to make me act like a lunatic and try to unlock his behavior pattern on a full moon rising.

Oh Yeah….He knows. That’s why his mouth is in a perpetual grin. Oh yeah…Definitely need to donate to doggie psyche research..Yep ..gunna unlock those unearthed treasures.

“Good Bloggie”

Last night my puppy ran around the house like a jet ski without a rider. He circled the kitchen island clockwise four times followed by the same number counter clockwise. It was as if he were trying to send me a message.

The established Vet did mention that “they will try to communicate with you as they mature, oh and do grab the latest video in the lobby on New Pup Parents, only one left”…

I did happen to recognize the subtle hints from my dog when it came time to relieve himself. He now runs to the sliding glass door and stares fondly at the grass, or he runs to the front door and looks up at you with his Big Eyes floating. I get this now, I’m in tune with the pupster, we are one.. Grasshopper. It is a masterful feeling to be able to communicate with a three month old puppy. I feel so whole in side. It completes me. It completes me up until he’s running frantically around the house like a plane circling Kennedy Airport.

I gave a command to stop and he did. For two seconds. Then he continued running. He ran to every room on the first level of this house passing every individual that tried to catch him. He was slick, fast and as agile as the performers in Circ-du-Soleil. It was a game of “chase me, Tag- your it, hide and seek  red light green light, and ending with Twister”. I hadn’t seen him go this crazy before and I immediately thought something was terribly wrong.

I picked him up in my arms and looked into those Big round eyes and said: “What, what Lassie, Is Timmy stuck in the well again?”. His  bobble head rolled up at me with his cold snout pointing toward my chin and he looked as though he wanted to speak. He just glared at me and licked my face letting me know nothing is wrong and, well, we don’t own a well. Just a septic tank, and if Timmy were there, well then…batten down the hatches, there’s no saving that little stinker. He’s dog gone as far as I’m  concerned and I’m not replicating a scene from Slum Dog Millionaire.

My pup appeared to be just fine so I put him down. Mario Andretti  resumed his race around the island after his pit stop in my arms. Obviously he is in his own puppy world competing in the Indy 500 with pretend puppies. What…my daughter had pretend playmates before her brother was born. Perfectly normal. I’ll take this up with the EV (established vet) on my next shopping,  er..appointment.

 It’s one thing if they want to run around in in their own house; it’s another thing if they run, jump and hump.

Our neighbor visited last night and she got to be privy to our new pups behavior. She happens to be a gorgeous blond in her early thirties with Big Round Blue Eyes. Just as she planted her size zero tuschie on our sofa, Charly-dog zereo’d in on her designer jeans. There must have been something about the erect pleat protruding from her stonewashed denim that caught his Big Eye. He was all over her leg like a cheap suit. Getting busy, doing the nasty, baggin’ some ba-dink-a-dink.

Needless to say I was humiliated and reprimanded the dog, I told him to “get down”,  which he took as slang for  “more busy..”..

My neighbor is a very classy sport. She was a dog owner and had experience in dealing with this: She asked him if he wanted a bone.

That Scally brought the sexy back with a Shawty Shero, What a Shizzle…..until he was Smacked-down.  “Good Dawggie……….”

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Let Sleeping Blog’s Lie

My puppy is asleep now. I love when he’s asleep and curled up in front of the fire just like a Norman Rockwell painting. Oh wait, that is a Norman Rockwell painting. My pup doesn’t curl up into a ball when he sleeps. He is outstretched on his back with his forpaws bent in a begging position and his hind legs tapping the air as if he’s playing the  organ foot pedals at St Pat’s Cathedral. Maybe he’s dreaming , I understand dog’s dream. What exactly, is a wonder of science and maybe we should donate research money to find out. Right now I would guess Charly is dreaming about Donnie Osmond’s quick step on dancing with the stars. His back feet are in motion and timely I might ad. His paw rhythm is accompanied by deep breathing, an occasional snort, a glowing smile, followed by a bark interruptus.  This sound usually brings his head to an upright position as he surveys his surroundings to see if anyone filmed him to post on You-Tube. When he sees the coast is clear his head lowers and resumes his REM. With one eye open. Dog’s must be light sleepers. I could never be a dog. I love sleep, uninterrupted, I’m in a coma right now, never wake me unless a fire, kind of sleep. Not Charly, he sleeps with one eye open, One Big Round Eye open, as if he’s going to miss something. Like a small gnat whizzing past on a nonstop flight to the fruit bowl.Or the light buzz from the laundry room letting you know the dryers finished; every five minutes. Or the “click” of the front door lock as a family member comes home from school. He lies there in his slumber dead to the world singing his canine chorus , so at peace with the world, so calm and under his own guise. However, it is all a guise, he can leap like Yoda in a single bound from a single sound. Just when I thought I could catch a break and Blog while he’s resting, he hears the crackling of a potato chip bag which my son is opening at least five rooms away. You see, any bag that crackles when it opens makes the same sound as a puppy Pup-e-roni snack bag. Again, Ninja dog shows up in the dark at your feet, Big Eyes Wide Open. That canine that was in a coma five minutes ago has been lying to us all along. He doesn’t sleep, he lies there making mockery of down time. I asked the Established Vet about this;  Puppies and their Sleeping Habits. Again the reassuring educational vetinarian-ism had its embellished impact: ” Oh they’ll do that, puppies are up one minute and down the next. Don’t miss our featured puppy chew-toys at the check-out counter.”..Cha-ching! Well I know that when Cats are hyped up they are given cat nip and I’ve seen cats that never move an inch during a Southern California earthquake. I think we need something equivalent for puppies. They must have doggie downers somewhere in the giant Pet Super Colossal Mart. Probably have to have a prescription for it. Just like when our puppy had loose poop and the Established Vet had to give us prescribed canned chicken and rice for his diarhea. I said: “Let me get this straight, you have to give us a prescription for a can good that I have seen in the grocery store brought to you by Campbell’s ?” This is some kind of specialty blending of chicken and rice that only the Vet elite are privy to and is FDA regulated.?? This can only be purchased with a prescription via the Vet and it’s ingredients are chicken and Rice. Yep. What is this going to cost me? Is there a store coupon I can apply toward purchase? Is it one can per household? Is this chicken and rice a controlled substance? I understand if you substitute turkey with the tryptophan an all….
Maybe they need THAT chemical to help sleeping dog’s Lie…...m-mmm-good!

My Dog’s Blog with a Sidebar

I have only done this blog for a week. No one is reading it but me. I presented it to my daughter who is an English major in college and she recommends I “pretty it up”, and give it eye appeal. I wanted to see which were the top sites for Bloggers and the number one in hits has a COED title. I clicked on it. It is definitely coated with “eye candy”. My Dog’s Blog can never compete with nubile coeds scantily dressed. I could try to dress my puppy in risque attire; I recall seeing Doggy Dress-up in aisle 102 at the Giant conglomerate puppy Super Mart. Maybe shave off some of his fur and expose a little under belly? Locate a few neighboring dogs for a little “puppies gone wild”. Sorry, I’m blogging for the intellectual in need of some light humor and may be experiencing the same things I am. My Coed days are Long secured and tucked away in a diary at Fort Knox where my teens will never get their paws on it…
Security is another reason to own a dog. They make you feel safe even when they are hiding under the bed during a power outage. I want my puppy to be a watch dog. And he is, by golly, he watches everything we do, every bug on the backdoor screen, every feather let loose from the comforter, and every bite that enters our mouth during dinner. He doesn’t miss a beat. He watches the air. My guess is, IF someone were tying to break into our house; he would WATCH them do it. With his head tilted to the side. Possibly dragging a chew toy in hopes the criminal would have time to play fetch. Some one suggested posting a “beware of dog” sign on your property as a deterrent. I love those signs. They make you think Cujo lives there. But as I have said before we moved to a small farm like area where everyone knows your name, make, and serial number. They have all seen my dog out front doing his business at all hours of the day. They honk and wave as they pass by. They all have been captured by his Big Round Eyes. They would love  it if I posted a Beware of giant vicious tear your throat out dog sign, while my six inch tall dog lures them into a puppy trance and melts their heart out. Maybe I’ll return to aisle 102 and pick out a doggie frock for my pup. Yeah, I saw a cute little COP number in his size. It came with a utility belt loaded with keys and a flashlight.   Maybe they have a German one like Colonel Klink wore and I can wrap an SS band around his paw and he can roll his growl into a “Halt!” Or I noticed a long blond feathered back wig with a strapping red jumpsuit; He could ninja out from a corner and bark”freeze” while his paw flicks a wisp of hair from his Big Round Eyes. Well he’s my Charly’s angel.

    Or maybe I’ll just call the Brink’s man.

Love Me Love my Blog

I’m happy we got a dog. I was unsure and had buyers remorse. After sleepless nights, frequent potty mishaps, and the constant training of a newbie, oh, and a few threats of “sending him back to where he came from”, I relented. I relented every time he looked at me with those big round dark eyes. Those eyes that screamed “I didn’t mean to, I love you, feed me, I gotta go now, where’s your son’s back pack so I can devour his chemistry book, did I say I love you?” This pup pulls the cute mug trick like its a light switch ( without a dimmer). I’ve seen that look so many times and I fall for it every time. That look makes it hard to discipline him. I find it hard to get mad at him when he misbehaves. The Established Vet told us we have a very good natured dog. This dog will let you pet him all over, rub his tummy, roll him over, and cradle him in your arms on his back like a newborn home from the hospital. But Those eyes have it. Once you are locked into his spell any thought of rubbing his nose in his accident flies out with the flies. He has you in his puppy trance and has total control over your thoughts. He knows he’s captivated you in his puppy web because he is this small creature that melts hearts with his Big EYES. But don’t forget the ninja side of him. Just when you think he is trained and trustworthy he slithers into an unfamiliar territory and unloads a profound present that permeates throughout the vents. I don’t understand. He is potty trained. He has been performing magnificently on task, peak performance, outstanding, Suma Cum LOAD, and just like that it all rolls down hill. A setback? Well let’s find out, let’s ask the Established vet. And I did. On the next visit. A hundred and fifty dollars later the Established Vet gave her expert opinion on the matter: ” Oh, Yes that will happen…have you tried our latest doggie treats there in the Lobby.” Ten minutes with a dog at $150….”whose the stupid mommy, huh, whooose the stupid mommy…good girl… have a treat.” I could see if I returned to the spca “Doc” with this issue: As he jumps on his Harley spewing words back to me; ” Yea Lady, the dogs gunna shit that’s what they do”. Dog-do. I know that, but does it have to happen on my Berber Carpet? I said with big round eyes…..
As I mentioned before I am happy I got the dog. He has brought life into our home. My kids are getting bigger, one is in college and the other in high school. They don not need me like when they were little. They have lives of teenage-dom which don’t include mommy-dom. They are off gallivanting in teenage nirvana. I do not fault them for this it is just a matter of growing up. They are busier than me. I use to be the busy one ,now I watch them whirl in and out like mini tornados. There appears to be a void happening around me and the pupster just might be in line to fill it. I’ve watched this dog make an unemployed middle age man laugh again. I have seen this pup turn a teen with angst into a bouncing bundle of joy. I witnessed a smile or two from the college coed when I’m not looking. And in some of my dark days I can strap him to his leash and sit on the front stoop as we both bask in the sunlight. In those moments I can not imagine any greater feeling, especially when I gaze into those Big Round Eyes. Oh those eyes, they are looking at me right now, they are calm and beaming with pride. I am so captivated right now by those eyes and incredibly swept away by the  immense odor of his latest outdoor accomplishment.
“Good Charly…whooose a good boy…”

It’s a Dirty Blog, but somebody’s gotta do it….

Charly ( with the backward R) is trying to get paper trained indoors. We do not get the paper. I canvassed the neighborhood and kindly asked for donations. Most neighbors throw theirs in the recycle and they extended their “cans” at my disposal. We live in what some folks call “the rich area” of our small town. My husband and I just happen to do well in a few real estate ventures back in the real estate hay day out west and ventured to a small farm area on the east coast. In other words, we are getting Lots more for our money out here. So needless to say it gives the locals great pleasure to see the ” rich tourists ” digging through their trash cans. Our puppy had to go poop and I did not have time to go to the market 25 miles away, nor could I call the local paper boy and start immediate delivery. I managed to collect enough to get us through a couple of days. The pup seemed to get the concept of going on the paper, particularly after he chewed it to shreds and ingested most of sports page. I had to wait an hour for the MLB playoff stats to pass. I tried covering his potty area with the food advertisement and coupon section. That quality of paper proved to be thicker, shinier, and slicker, and less absorbent. I found him knee deep in a land -o-lakes ad; He tried to run and hide, but he was an easy mark. I followed the evidence of wet puppy prints that included spelling.
This called for a return trip to the giant Pet Conglomerate store in search of puppy pads. Puppy pads resemble what a Pampers diaper might look like if you ran over it with a steamroller a few times. Oh,and, they are costly. Oh, and, they chew just as nicely as the newspaper, only they include plastic. Which we found doesn’t pass a readily as the sports page did. I’m sure the Established Vet would have had a hay day with that stool sample. ” Oh, yes, Charly’s diet is remarkable, it looks as though Acme is running a sale.”
Our pup is managing to get his routine down as he matures, however, there is one short coming that we were unaware of; Apparently Spaniels have a week bladder and when excited tend to “leak”. This happens every time anyone greets him. So, you can imagine the welcoming reception we get from friends and neighbors when they enter our home and we immediately usher them to the laundry room and have them stand on the puppy pads so they can greet the new dog. We had to stop that ritual when one neighbor exited with a puppy pad stuck to the bottom of her shoe on her return trip from the bathroom. I am happy to report that the toilet training is a rapid success. He manages to go outdoors now, well he has too. There’s no other choice. We have exhausted our coupons for the Rug Doctor. And besides, Charly has an acre and a half to do his business. And believe me, he is utilizing every inch of our landscape with his land mines. Every Hour on the Hour. Incoming…………

Blog and Pony Show

My puppy is growing, he doesn’t look like it but he is. He is still the size of a small stuffed animal that you win at the carnival for popping only three balloons. We can’t tell who he will favor in looks, he has the body of the chihuahua and a giant bobble head of the spaniel. I guess his breed would be donned “the Chaniel”. I did see on the television on a Pet channel that mixing breeds is very chic. The Pug+ Beagle = Puggle. I highly doubt my Pup was scientifically constructed out of a test tube, or a nobel Pet Bank. He was an accident in a trailer park. I think I will register him under his new breed title: Chaniel or Cocker-Hau-hau, or Cock-cha-cha, or cha-cha-chia….This brings me to the subject of giving him a name. My daughter named him, she calls him Charly, with a backward “R”. Like the title Movie from the book, Flowers for Algernon. Come to think of it he does resemble Cliff Robertson with that crooked smirk. Once we all decided that the name was fine we all found ourselves sick of it by the end of the day. Every other word was: “Charly No, Charly sit, Charly get down, Good Charly, Charly come here, Charly stop, Charly Noooooo. No matter how many times his name was mentioned he still had no Idea who it was these people were talking about.
One unique feature our puppy has is the ability to meander around our house like a ninja. One moment he is sitting quietly in front of the sliding back door and the minute you turn your back to him and start walking he is under your feet. He seems to be rather quiet for a puppy, which I found out later, means he is searching for his voice. The first sound out of him, other than the two nights of whimpering, was a deep gutteral growl/yawn that resembled the German officer Sargent Schultz from Hogan’s Heroes. I heard that they do DNA testing on Mutts to detect their true identity. He could have some German Shepherd in him. Or the way he keeps his nose low to the ground while he’s sniffing out his territory dragging his lower lip could be indicative of a bloodhound. Or the way his body stiffens and his nose points forward while lifting his front paw to point could be an English Setter, Or the way he bounces off every wall and is distracted so easily could be a rare breed of puppy known as: ADD- attention deficit doggie, OR the way he sits on his haunches with his legs to the side next tot he stereo is a spitting image of the RCA Victor dog. I wonder what DNA testing would cost me, I wonder if I care. I’m sure when we have our Puppy check with the Established Vet we’ll get answers.
Which leads me to the first Puppy visit with the Vet. This time we got to enter through the “Well Pet Door”. There were no lines, no crazed animals in the waiting room,and lovely staff members in floral scrubs. They gave us all the info prior to the appointment , oh, and specifically requested we bring in a fresh stool sample. I hope they were referring to the puppy…Our Puppy was granted a clean bill of health and we left with all kinds of goodies and a “puppy Folder” for all our Puppy Papers, and new Puppy food, and new puppy treats, and a puppy pill that you hide in a squishy puppy treat that has the same shape and color of the stool sample we brought in earlier, and the puppy de wormer in a syringe, and the puppy de-tick & de -flea serum that you apply once a month..oh and..oh and…plus…HELP ME…This bill was as much as the ER bill and could buy the other half of the Vespa. How did all this come about? I thought you just got a dog and fed it. How did dogs survive in the dawn of time before all this fancy shmancy stuff arose? I haven’t even started with my continued adventure into the Giant Conglomerate Cornering the Market Pet store we visited to get a food bowl and a toy. THREE aisles of toys all different gradients of growth per Dog. Dog collars & Leashes in fabulous colors for every season. Oh and the Food! Mounds and mounds of incredible edibles for your four legged new addition. All the bags had great titles with their brand, Science, Chow, Smart, Pro, Glo, I’m great, pick me,I’m better than that one, …Diet, regular, finicky, I’m a pig, Mess maker, Lap me up from the floor IF YOU CAN…. Oh and the chewing items: Bones, rawhide, ears, veggie chews, dental stix, PUP-er-Roni…what ever happened to go fetch a stick. See Spot run, see Spot fetch a dental chew. Yeah, like that’s gunna help. Oh and did I mention the Puppy Pads? Maxi or with wings……
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Sick as A Blog ( an earlier post..due to lack of inspiration…)

I have been informed by current dog owners (CDO’s) that it is important to get your new dog a “puppy check” a.s.a.p. I am a new puppy owner and have not owned a dog since childhood and apparently this is a  check-up to verify if you have a healthy or sick dog. This “puppy check” will establish him with a Vetinarian to gain a history and secure his records. Hmm…. very similar to what I did when my kids were born, however, that was covered by insurance.  My dog was a quasi rescue and did not come with any records.  Maybe the Vet will conduct a back round check.  I’ll have Charly-dog present a puppy print to be submitted to the canine data bank.

I did not grab the yellow pages and seek out an established Primary Vet right away, instead, I went the cheaper route and did a one stop shop at the local S.P.C.A to get his initial set of required shots.  Also known as “The Clinic”.  I have worked in the hospital environment and for all of you who work or have worked in a hospital environment; back then the word CLINIC meant: “Line ’em up, step right up, one ata time folks…get your shots here..hurry while they last..that’s right little lady don’t be shy”; with a waiting room full of the village people.

My 15 year old son accompanied me to the clinic clutching the pup close to his chest as if he were cradling a football and running for that 60 yard T.D.to get to the head of the Free Shot Line. We stood in line for over an hour along with other dogs all senior to our pup.  My son tired of holding Charly-dog and decided to set our mongrel down to mingle with the pack, at the ripe old age of 7 weeks.  Apparently my son missed the lecture in the car regarding immunities, vaccines, and death by Parvo!

The line moved slowly toward the table that dispensed the paperwork. They asked for my ID and the name of the dog and DOB.(date of birth). The pup was 7 weeks and was born sometime in July so I made my pre-calculous privately schooled teenage son do the math.

We were then escorted to another table ( the paying one) and gave our donation. We waited in line as  I witnessed the Vet-du-jour give vaccines consecutively to all the dogs as he inched down the line without taking a breath. It came to our turn and I looked at our new puppy resting in my arms staring at me  with those Margeret Keane eyes.   My heart was pounding and I was near tears. I couldn’t watch as this fully Tattooed, braided pony-tailed with no credentials in view VET (?)  approach my pup with a hypo from the 1950’s…….. I made my son do it.

It went so quickly and not one yelp from our puppy, not even a sniff. This master with a needle had a soft touch equipped with precision that didn’t even tussle a piece of fur.  I was so impressed, I slipped the VET a twenty and mentioned that my son is due his tetanus soon and maybe he’s free on Tuesday……..

I may have spoke too soon;  a few days later our pup came down with a doggie cold or as the professionals call it: kennel cough; and, as newbie owners and ignorant about puppy ailments, we did what responsible adults do…….dialed  doggie 911.

It was a weekend and we did not do step one of new puppy ownership: Get Established With A Vet.  So we had to go to an Emergency Vet Hospital, on a weekend, with an On Call Vetinarian….This visit cost nearly the same amount of money as a one nights stay at the Hilton with a spa package.

  The Vet receptionist had us enter through the “sick pet door” where we were quarantined in a corner seat in the waiting area. We were greeted much like a regular hospital E.R.; as their initial instructions were:

“Please sign in and fill out this paperwork”.

Our puppy was lying listless in my lap and displaying shallow breathing. We have only owned this dog for seven weeks and I am presented by the receptionist at the Vet E.R.  with a vibrant blue page to be filled out immediately. I mentioned to her that my dog will be the color of this form by the time I finish with this paperwork.  She turned away smacking her gum to the tune of  Springsteen’s “Born in the USA”……..

  I noticed  at the bottom of this Blue Page there were  two options that required One mandatory check mark:

  Option 1: ( short version) We will take the pet and do everything possible to save it costing you at the least $750.

Option 2: DNR.

I was hoping that DNR had a different meaning than the one used in People Hospitals.  I was thinking that maybe Vet clinics had their own special vernacular and acronyms that pertained to animals, and that maybe their version of DNR meant something less devastating. Like:

Do Note-the Reading-material-while-you-wait……. or…..Dinner Needs Reheating… or…. Did-you Need-to-Rethink-this-puppy-thing?….

As it turned out our pup had a mild form of a kennel cough and just needed a dose of antibiotic and we didn’t need to go to Eddie Bauer in search of an oxygen pup- tent.  Our little pupster came through with flying colors as I stayed curled up next to him throughout the night and day.

I know I inherited this mutt a mere seven weeks prior to his illness and my attachment to him was still in a foreign  stage to me.  I know I was riddled with guilt  despair when I was faced with the decisions of those two options  listed on  the required Royal Page. I know that in those fatal few seconds in between my puppy’s breaths, thoughts flashed through my mind of various views before my pen decided to land in the blank box nestled near the bottom of the Bright blue Form.  My mind was being coerced into choosing between an eight week weakling that I barely knew that could stiff me for a giant Vet bill or Do Nothing Right-now……

I know you are dying to know which option I chose…..

That is not an option………

spread the humor.