we have found seven (7) ticks on the dog in under a week.

We're going to need a better tweezers. Tick removal device may be worth the money after all. (Furminator sure is. I'm just sayin.)

Labels: dogs

can't. stop. blogging. And also, probably, i am going to do really inappropriate things here, make awful comparisons, say things that aren't funny. This is how i deal. This is my blog, my space, my journal, mine: fuck off. I don't care if it isn't funny for anyone but me. Fair warning. (They killed Kenny: you bastards. Death is not funny. See? Not funny. But how i deal.)

so there are things, i think, that one does, as a responsible member of society. Clean up one's trash. Give proper directions. Don't leave pee on the seat. Park properly. Once i saw a car on fire and called 911; i was terribly excited as they had only just invented cell phones, so there was a possibility that someone had already called, and I asked the operator if she knew there was a car on fire on Highway 81 South or whichever it was, and she said no, and i was eight or nine years old - Responsible member of society. Mention to somebody when they've dropped their keys. Don't walk in the exact damn center of the one-lane street. It's why i vaccinate my kid. It's why i put the ugly kitchen barstool i always broke my toe on in the hallway downstairs with a big sign saying "GRATIS" instead of busting it down to get it to fit in the trash, to see it gone, claimed, in twenty minutes flat. It's why one turns down the stereo late at night. Hold the elevator. Mow the lawn. Don't (feed mogwai or; see also, death, not funny) move furniture after midnight.

And when one's dog bites a person, one puts it down. But that doesn't make it easy.

There's no, but he didn't mean it. There's no, it was situational. There's no, it's redirected this, behavioral - learning - modified - whatever that. The shelter we got him from, the rescue back in texas, they call it a crossed wire in his head. Me, when i am feeling like glossing things over, i call it a persistent anxiety disorder. In the reality-based world, they'd say he bit M, and while M is fine (well, we had to wash his jeans, and it's good that one of us is a girl and knows to do it in cold water, y'know, and if he hadn't been wearing jeans, then it would have been worse, a lot worse, and while it wasn't bad, in the sense that M could walk afterwards, i guess, it was certainly a Real Bite) - well, there it is, it was a Real Bite. You could count his teeth from the holes in M's leg, see where they were crooked, where they were big. Multiple holes. As in, more than one. Holes. In M's leg. Euphemism-euphemism-euphemism, whatever, holes and blood and there it is.

And yes, we knew it would happen eventually. Anxiety disorder. Panic disorder. Hates-walking-on-the-street disorder. (Seriously, what dog doesn't like to go for walks?) Wants-to-attack-dogs-and-bicycles disorder. Will-bite-anything-in-biting-range disorder. Not quite frothing-in-the-face disorder, and while we're home, calm. Cuddly. Sweet, perfect, soft, ideal. (Except when he growls at you for touching his butt, or when he's on your side of the bed and you're sleepy, so he has to move, or ) God, he sounds awful. When we were home he was damn near a perfect dog. And if he never had to leave the apartment - and if it was bigger and there was more than one comfy couch to nurse/watch TV/laze about on, more than one place to nap, a larger kitchen to hang out in, more places to hide when he was feeling antisocial, a larger space between the living room and all the rest of it, oh, christ.

One glass of wine and a little grief, and i get all loquacious. See? Not funny.

i feel like i'm rationalizing it all. I am. Like if i make enough excuses i'll feel better. Nope. This is me and my failure, alone in the corner. There must have been something. If we'd made him go for more walks. If i'd had more energy. More patience. (Thicker jeans. See? Not funny.) If we'd put him on doggie prozac, if we'd had his teeth removed, if we'd let dog no. 1 dominate him a little more as a puppy, if he'd been a little older when we got him, a little younger, if we'd socialized him better instead of letting him hide, if we'd called the behaviorist sooner, a million things. If we hadn't moved to vienna. If we'd stayed in the big house in texas, the big yard, where he was comfortable. If we'd made him wear the muzzle all the time, or kept him crated every second of the day. and, yeah, sure, what kind of life is that for a dog, but then, how do you know if that's not better? Stupid world.

M took him to the vet. I sent them with a big packet of lunch meat - weird, stinky Austrian turkey stuff. Not the spicy kind. They always like the stinky, though.

Little Bird, i'm sorry.

Labels: dogs

dog no 2. yes. sick. And therapy, and time, and more time, and more therapy, all the people we were working with, all the people we asked for help, but i've always said, and we always knew, but this was sooner than we'd hoped. A lot sooner.

A lot sooner. He's barely five. I gave M a big packet of lunch meat to take along to the vet.

It's not fair. I failed him. None of this is his fault. I failed him. All he ever was was scared. And now this, and here we are, with no choices left, nobody to beg forgiveness from.

And even with everything. I always said, i did, i know, i remember. I know. And everyone is telling us the same thing. And i know they are right to. All of these things are in my head. I know. But he's just a puppy. Even here, where every shelter is a no-kill shelter, they say the same thing. I know. I called. I asked. I nearly cried on the phone.

But now, here, instead.

Labels: dogs

i'd rather not talk about it. Yet.

Dog no. 2 is going to be leaving us shortly.

Also, i cut bangs, and while they are very cute and reminiscent of that lady with the high pony tail on the old Emme makeover show (i LOVED that old Emme makeover show), they look awful with a red puffy nose from crying, so no pictures. This morning, i was a stone fox. Now, not so much.

Labels: dogs, drama

It snowed here and somebody in the park made a snowman and by the time i took the dogs out for their evening walk most of the snow had melted but the snowman was still mostly there, though toppled over, and the dogs were very suspicious of it as i'm not entirely sure they've seen a half-melted snowman before, so we went over to it, slowly and suspiciously, and they sniffed at it and then it was fine. But it snowed! Lots! And the dogs are silly and fun.

Also there was a zombie flash mob on mariahilferstrasse on saturday but all the zombie flash mobs i have seen or heard of happened in places where it was warm, yeah? And the idea of getting possible blood stains on my winter coat - since it was, what, four degrees out - not so appealing. Hopefully they'll have another one in summer.

And the christmas markets have started.

Labels: dogs, festivities, vienna

so with the two dogs we have a lot of dog hair. And dog no. 2 - or, well both of them - they shed twice a year. On schedule. Only dog no. 2 missed his spring shed this year so he has been extra fuzzy. And so our floor is always fuzzy, and now that we have hardwood floors instead of carpet you notice it a lot more, and also now that we have no yard for them to be outside in for a large part of the day, they shed more inside, obviously. Our floors here are much hairier than our floors were in texas. And so we got this new thing, a furminator, which is like a pointy little metal comb thing. Most dog combs are metal, i guess: but this one is very pointy, and does not cut hair, but pulls out all the undercoat stuff. And it is wonderful on dog no. 1, the shepherd-heeler theoretical mix. On dog no. 2, the spitz-chow-coyote-god-knows-what theoretical mix, we currently have a wide stripe down the middle of his back de-undercoated, but he still has, um, a lot of fur in other places. It works best on unmatted hair, of course, and we got all of that out in the first twenty-four hours of owning said furminator (it's kinda fun to say: try it. The process is apparently termed furmination). And now it's uncovered mats that, honestly, we suspected a bit but which no brush or comb has ever proven the existence of before. We had never actually found one. Like a black hole. So in that sense - also in the spectacularness of how well it works on dog no. 1, and in the Muppet-holocaust scene of lost fur we've been leaving behind us at the dog parks, which of course is fur that won't end up on our floor - the Furminator is a success. And worth the price tag, though i'd be shocked if they're not making a zillion percent profit on each damn one. It's just a fucking comb.

But since the MIL is visiting i can't tell if our floors are comparatively cleaner or not, because with all of us sweeping i haven't got a feel for how often we're cleaning and how fast the dog hair is reaccumulating. It seems like there's less of it but it might just be her. Either way it's a pleasant thing.

Labels: dogs, emptor, house

i found bagels. BAGELS. Maybe if i buy enough of them the stores will keep them in stock more often? BAGELS. i think my toasting over an open flame skills will sharply improve over the next few days. even if we had a toaster, the european slots would probably be too small, because did i mention, BAGELS?

emily also found bagels, due to M leaving them with open access to the kitchen this morning. Smart puppy.

and:
live earth, 7-continents-one-concert, rathaus, saturday 7th juli, 21:00
infernal affairs, friday 13th juli, augarten kino, 21:30
casablanca, fr. 20th juli, augarten kino, 21:30
cosi fan tutte, rathaus, mittwoch 22rd juli, 21:00
volver, 8th aug, augarten kino
garden state, 10th aug, augarten kino
brazil, 11th aug, augarten kino

Labels: dogs, festivities, food

it has happened: Dog no. 1 has barked loud enough in her sleep to wake up Dog no. 2, who is admittedly a light sleeper, without waking up herself. This is vastly amusing. however, Dog no. 2 does not appear able to go back to sleep. (Like he doesn't get enough: they only sleep twenty-two hours a day ...)

Labels: dogs

i'm dogsitting for T - which is fine. his first dog, George, is extraordinarily well behaved - he doesn't jump, he doesn't rush out the door, he can amuse himself with a tennis ball for extended periods of time. George is a pit bull-something mix and is friendly and happy and the sort of dog that wags his entire butt. And is over the moon every time i come over to play, when he's met me maybe three, four times before, and none of the people in his house are home. T's second dog, the puppy, which i believe is called Max, is still very small. Like small enough for George - the big ol lock-jawing pit - to attempt mothering and picking up by the back of his neck. it's hilarious to watch. George is - or was - a boy dog. but he's sheeping this little scruffy thing around and trying to pick it up and it's all very cute. so. cute small fuzzy good. but. T's roommate's dog, Lobo, is, sort of, he said they think he's retarded. i hate when people don't discipline their dogs. in petco there are books on "you know your dog owns you if" and in line, there are people that go - oh that's you! you have newspapers everywhere! and well of course i have leash burns on my hands and doesn't everyone think it's normal to have paw prints on your chest at work? and there was this tiny akita - six weeks old - and these awful college kids bring it in and it's shivering on the floor, it's terrified, it wants its fucking mommy you assholes, hold it, comfort the poor thing, but they're not, and that dog is going to be nothing but trouble when it grows up. Nothing. but. trouble. so. T's roommate's dog is an outdoor dog because - get this - it's not housetrained. it's, like, four, and they've had it for ages, and it's not housetrained. ok. i understand accidents - you leave a dog alone in a room for hours on end, it's gonna have to go - but to have the door to the yard open, to have that access, and he pees on the floor. On the carpet. And T says, well, it's that roommate's house, it's her dog, he pees on the floor, don't go barefoot. and i don't know how it's her house - if her parents cosigned or something - but she's not gonna get asking price later for a house that stinks of dog piss. Plus she has to live there. and i could not. nonononono.

Labels: dogs

we babysat two small dogs over the weekend. It was tiring. there was a lot of Wild Kingdom. and a lot of doggy saliva. and the little ones are really, really awful at riding in the car. Like to kill them awful. like to toss them out the sunroof at 70mph. urgh. ours aren't nearly so bad. the little ones are also largely unsuccessful at sleeping. And they snore. And their heads are shaped like tennis balls. And they have these stupid little noses so they breathe very, very loud, all the freaking time. And they don't like it when their tails get pulled on. And they shed like mad, especially when they're nervous, and of course they're nervous when they're at our place because Orange Dog wants to eat them. Yeah. and Orange Dog is weirded out by them because they're small and noisy and very very active and because they're nervous, so he tries to eat them, and it just gets worse.

Labels: dogs

Carwash. - Hour later, rain.
Why don't i care?
Doggy nose-prints are gone.

Labels: dogs

yesterday denali was barking incessantly at a pile of brush. though it might have been the sprinkler. ((he's a little man ... in a [dog's] body ... he walks ... just like i do ... he's convinced ... i won't eat him)) that's my boy.

we're going to drive them north at christmas. it'll be interesting. neither one gets carsick, but ... it'll be interesting. it's a sixteen hour drive, (i really have to cut my nails - some of them are clicking on the keys as i type) and ... well ... it'll be interesting. at least it'll be not so hot as it is, for instance, here, so we can leave them in the car for a couple of minutes as we dash into gas stations and wendyses and convenience stores. But i bet they'll eat all of m's beef jerky.

Labels: dogs

parents' old dog died in january after a long and happy life (r.i.p. mokka). so they need another one. this became glaringly obvious when, visiting home, nothing was trying to escape out the garage door (clearly a state of things that cannot be allowed to continue). mom wants a dog. brother, quite frankly, absolutely requires a dog. and dad always pretended to not like the fact that there was a dog but we all knew better.

i think they should get something small, either gender but thoroughly fixed, that won't shed inappropriately, probably not an actual puppy but maybe not quite an adult either (really I think they would be very happy with an adult dog, but they want a puppy, which i think is a terrible idea). already somewhat house/crate trained - like this one. Or this one. Or absolutely 100% this little guy. Or this pretty baby girl. And this one looks like rather a cuddle bug. And this one looks absolutely perfect even if they'll think it's too big. they're entirely too picky, the parents. and i would have got them one if they hadn't been having a party on saturday (which would be a lot for a new dog to deal with). but i think a lot of dogs would be perfectly happy to sit in the house all day with a couple of chewy toys. Mine are. They need a dog. Already.

Labels: dogs, family

the zoo in new york is i think the third oldest in the country. and of course they have lions and tigers and bears and penguins and leopards and tiny baby golden monkeys and some really stinky - what were they? - i don't know, ocelots or something, and other random zoo creatures. But. They have this huge spectacular wolf park with a little mirrored room at the bottom of the hill that you walk into and then the wolves trot along by because it's next to the den, which is just to the right under a nice pile of rocks, and then there's a boardwalk along the top of the hill with twenty-five cent binocular-machines to look at all the nice fuzzy wolves. And m likes wolves. A little bit. Kind of. Lots and lots. so we went to the zoo and saw the lions and tigers and bears and leopards and tiny baby golden monkeys (which were very cute, but not quite as cute, I thought, as the tiny baby black-and-white monkeys) and then we went to the wolf enclosure. they have several gray wolves (which of course were wild and noble and elegant and solemn) and several smaller red wolves as well as several extra-smaller red wolf puppies. the red wolf puppies are small and happy and cute and playful and they run around for a little while and then disappear for a bit (presumably to take a nap in a hole somewhere) and then wake up and play tag for a while more. it's adorable. daddy-wolf paces in, i think, exactly the same way you always see new dads pacing in tv hospital waiting rooms.

Labels: dogs

they don't eat when we're gone. so then a, the babysitter, has to give them lots of treats. so then they don't want to eat when we're back, either, because they only want treats, but we deal with that easily enough. but when we're back they both get all clingy and watch us and if we make the slightest move towards getting up or, god forbid, going out the front door, they're all over us. they stand on top of us when we sit down. and they're all cuddly, and have these big brown eyes, and wet black noses, and denali is shedding like a madman, and people are coming over next tuesday and we have to clean the ENTIRE HOUSE before then because it's all absolutely covered in denali-hair. the couch is gross. i don't want to think about the floor. bet they're getting groomed on saturday. bet i need to make an appointment for it.

Labels: dogs

hyote, the latest hyena-coyote cross; or, a fox with an endocrine disorder; or, it looks oddly like dog #2. i think the germans think it's a werewolf. Another perfect pet for the parents.

Labels: dogs

i think the mom is desperate for attention all by herself in FL. she adopted a baby snake that was swimming / lost in the swimming pool. what do you feed a baby snake? how weird is that, anyway? i keep telling her, get another dog, already. A dog will love you. a snake, well, probably not so much. but still.

awwwww, how cute or ohh or that one or this one might be my favorite. So it's not like they don't have options.

Labels: dogs

i woke up too late for breakfast this morning.

i didn't really get up too late - i was in the shower by a perfectly good time and loved one had woken up earlier (because the Small Dog pounced on him) and let the dogs out and so i took my shower, and then i was done and i crawled back in bed (it's warm there) only i let the guys back in first and they jumped on the bed and the Small Dog had a particularly cold nose, i noticed. and so i'm thinking to myself he's going on this trip and i'll see him tomorrow but that's because i'm driving out to cheer on our friend who's doing this hundred mile uber-marathon (the loved one is the team captain and has to stay out there and make sure the friend doesn't hurt himself too badly) but i have to fall asleep all by myself tonight. and i have dogs but they're not the same - they're smaller, and fuzzy, and aren't allowed under the covers (because they don't like being under the covers - it's kind of a fun game - how long does it take? - the Slightly Less Small Dog generally is quicker than the Small Dog, because the Small Dog walks on the blanket and gets all tangled, while the Slightly Less Small Dog noses her way around first) - and then i have to wake up by myself, which absolutely sucks, for two days in a row. keep in mind that it's going to be the first time i have to wake up by myself since getting a Sparkly.

sigh. so i stayed in bed longer than i should have and had to buy a pop-tart at work. they only had the ooky strawberry ones - no brown sugar cinnamon. bastards.

Labels: dogs

top ten not-so-fantastic things about having dogs -

1. paw prints on the windows.
2. chew marks on the coffee table.
3. they ate a comforter. it was very close to new and now it has seven holes in it.
4. dryer lint has doubled in volume.
5. paw prints on your friends.
6. navigating the vast, uncharted gray area between Dog People and Animal Precinct.
7. wet noses at 3:30 AM.
8. that preoccupation with feet.
9. dog hair on your chair at work.
10. nose-prints on your glasses.

Labels: dogs

*not very factual on motorcycles either

:anmut: :annika: :chin: :dooce: :ewok mama: :food: :little frog school: :lj: :longform: :low odysseys: :natalya: :rich: :salon: :slate: :this is how: :unique yn:



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