Modern Dog Blog

A few months ago, I got this comment in my inbox:

“You know you sound really unpleasant, right?
I typed ‘ irritating dog lady ‘ into Google, and your blog came up. I think you were first. Try it.
Also, you misspelled -assistant- when you described your husband.
That’s all.”

I was kind of entertained and really wanted to address it then, but have not had the time. Firstly – WOW! I’m moving up in the world if you can find me by googling “irritating dog lady”! That’s kinda cool if you ask me. Secondly, who in the world is so bored that they actually google “irritating dog lady”? I guess Matt is. Well, thanks Matt. I’m guessing that Matt really didn’t read the post – this one that he was commenting about. Or perhaps his reading comprehension skills just suck. Who knows? I’m thinking, either way, he has a lot of time on his hands.

The point, actually, was to sound unpleasant. I was pissed off, irritated, and just sort of in awe of the stupidity of some people.

I’m still often just blown away by how in your face and rude people can be – especially when you have a baby, but I have to be nicer now. I’m teaching classes and the Training Director over there, so I have to make nice with, well, everyone. I will still get in someone’s face if they let their dog too close to my baby, but I do it as politely as possible, and usually I blame it on the baby. “Oh, sorry, she can look at your dog, but she can’t pet because she doesn’t understand that ears are not for pulling yet” and then I step in between the dog and the baby. She doesn’t understand. She’s a baby. She tortures my dogs, yanks their hair, pokes their eyes and explores their noses. They don’t care. Your dog might. I don’t really want to stress test your dog that far, do you?

Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to Matt, I think I will now start referring to myself as that “Irritating Dog Lady,” cause it kind of has a nice ring to it. I do have to ask though – why the hell were you googling that anyway? Don’t you like porn? Or have a nice myspace account you could be updating? I mean, really.

Posted on November 13th, 2009 by michelle
Filed under: Baby stories, Random run ins, The Naked Part | 4 Comments »

Poor little Hazel has been in and out of the hospital all week. They get her sedated enough to rest, get her breathing better, and then she comes home and deteriorates. I brought her home on Wednesday evening, after spending yet another night and day at the hospital, and she was doing ok. Not great, but ok. Fairly calm, and while not breathing great, at least her tiny chest wasn’t heaving. The dedicated doctors that work with Pug Rescue had decided to try Hazel on an inhaler, specially fitted with a little mask. One to two “puffs” twice a day. It seemed to work really well in the hospital, so we were hopeful that it would provide her with some comfort at home.

She slept well Wednesday night, but by yesterday morning she was sounding pretty bad again. If you’ve ever heard a pug really pant, you’ll know that when they get going they can sound pretty bad. I tried her inhaler, which sadly, didn’t seem to help much, and she hated it, so that was no fun. She got her nose drops, and her meds, but still spent most of yesterday panting. I did get her to take a nap, but she couldn’t even stop panting long enough last night to lay on my lap and get cuddles.

Last night I could hear her breathing fairly heavily, but she didn’t seem distressed, and she did manage to sleep, so I let her be. This morning though, she was much worse, panting with her ribs really heaving with the effort. A happy little pug, she gets worked up so quickly, and that makes it worse. She really seemed to be struggling, so back to the hospital we went.

After conferring with Suzi and the doctors who had worked so hard to make Hazel comfortable, we all decided that the kindest thing to do was to let her go. Even after the swelling from surgery was down, Hazel has been breathing like this all of her life, which has caused irreparable damage to her larynx. So our options were to keep her heavily sedated so she could breathe, which is no way for a perky little dog to live; do a tracheotomy, which she likely wouldn’t survive; or euthanize her.

It was very, very difficult, and my heart hurts, but I feel that euthanizing her was the kindest thing. We tried every trick in the book, short of more surgeries that her little body just couldn’t take, and the poor girl was still just gasping for air and exhausted by the effort. Today, even heavily sedated, she was still wheezing and unable to draw a full breath. I couldn’t do that to her anymore.

I am saddest that someone let her be this way for so long. A simple surgery as a pup would have fixed this and saved her many years of misery. We think perhaps she was a younger dog, but that her body was just so worn out from never having enough oxygen and the constant fight for breath. I am sad that someone out there abandoned this little dog. That, to them, she wasn’t worth the effort.

She was absolutely worth the effort to us. I held her and cuddled her and told her how many people loved her. I covered her face with kisses and told her she was a good dog. That she was worth the effort. I told her to look for my beloved Redwood and Rowan on the other side, that they would look out for her until I come to get them.

Rest easy Hazel. Goodbye little friend.

****************************************************************
Please consider making a donation in Hazel’s honor to Pug Rescue of San Diego. The money will go to help pay her vet bills, and the many, many vet bills incurred helping all of our senior dogs. They are worth it.

Posted on July 31st, 2009 by michelle
Filed under: Foster dogs, My dogs, The Naked Part | 4 Comments »

So, I’m in Wyoming visiting my Mom. Who owns not one, not two, but three pugs. Yes, three. She’s crazier than I am. Of course, I brought my dogs, so that brings the total in the house up to five. Pugs that is. Then add the goofy Labrador and the Border Collie, it’s a bit chaotic. Oh, and did I mention the baby?

Mom is at work, so I’m here alone with this freak show. They are, exuberant, to say the least. My dogs are giddy with the freedom of the dog door and have been racing in and out all day long. My Mom’s older dogs, JB and Piper mostly slept on the couches, but her puppy, dear heavens that puppy. Simi is busy. Very very busy. He’s in, he’s out, he’s in my face, he’s on the bed, he’s bringing me q-tips, he’s back outside. Holy crap.

I was checking email this morning and he brought me a q-tip. At least he brings them to you. Then I get up, and discover that he’s brought dirt clods in the house and strung them all over the hallway. I get the vacuum to clean that up, and the door bell rings. I’m sorry, all the training in the world isn’t keeping seven dogs quiet when the door bell rings. They go nuts, I go out to get my box. I come back in to put the baby down and Simi bolts out the door to say hi to the nice FedEx lady, who thank dawg, was nice and stopped so he could maul her with kisses and I could catch him. Cause Simi comes to Mom, but not so much to me. So here I am, baby in one arm, 20 lbs of pug puppy in the other trying to figure out how to get in the door. I was winded. Fatties, both of them.

Finally I get the hall vacuumed, and I call Mom to complain about her beast, look down and there is a trail of q-tips from the bedroom door to the bathroom – when did he have time to do THAT? And Simi is on Mom’s bed with dirt everywhere and a bone he pilfered from my room downstairs. I swear, he was JUST outside with that bone not two minutes ago. Busy, busy, busy.

I gave up and shut all the doors, thinking I could keep an eye on him better than way. But he’s good. Slick, that one. Not really bad though, just busy. He and Teak have teamed up and are racing around the house together, in and out the door, up over couches and tables. We are agility pugs, we are. Tables are no reason to stop. The baby was cracking up at them racing around, which made me crack up, cause how cool is it that she’s thinks dogs playing is funny?

Dyson has been suspiciously absent most of the day, hunting bunnies I suppose. Remember last year when he pulled boards up off the deck because he got in trouble for digging to get to the bunnies? Ya, that was fun. I’m afraid to go outside.

Mom came home for lunch, and everyone raced in to say hello, I heard Dyson crawling through the dog door, which was built for 20lb dogs mind you – he’s 100. His head barely fits through, I’m not really sure what gymnastics he performs to get through the dog door, but he’s doing it regularly. Mom starts laughing, says “Look at your dog” and I turn and the poor dog door has given up the fight. The entire door has come out of the wall and is stuck around Dyon’s middle. Seriously, if my Dad were here, he’d kill us both. Me and Dyson that is. It was funny. But dear lord, animal, seriously?

They are finally, finally all worn out and lined up on the couches sleeping. There is a lot of snoring going on, and while I’d love to get a picture of it for you, if I move, the moment will be ruined. Karma and Piper are sleeping on one couch, and the rest of the pugs and Dyson are lined up on the other like little doggie dominoes. Poor Simi looks absolutely exhausted. He’s been busy, you know.

Posted on May 8th, 2009 by michelle
Filed under: My dogs, Random run ins | 1 Comment »

Really, people need to quit whining about how disappointed they are about the Obama’s new dog. Seriously, with two little girls who have allergies and have never lived with a dog – who really thinks a shelter dog is a great idea? Yes, it would be lovely if all shelter dogs came with guarantees that they have no behavioral problems, and they promise not to bite the kids. Granted, no dog comes with any guarantees, and I’ve seen plenty of puppies go nutty as adults. But really. Really? I think the Obamas have enough to adjust to and plenty of things to worry about without having to wonder if their new dog is going to eat the girls. Yes, a puppy can be rough, yes, they will have to deal with the rigors of raising and training a new puppy, but when I was 8 years old, I can assure you I would have rather worked at raising a puppy than an adult dog. With the allergy issue – I’m much happier that the Obamas chose a Portuguese Water Dog rather than a damn poodle mix. Labradoodles, Goldendoodles, all those doodle things are taking over the world. People are paying exorbitant amounts of money for them and *newflash* THEY ARE GLORIFIED MUTTS! Do we really, really want the President walking around with a mutt that people are already racing to cash in on? Mutts that are already needing their own rescue groups? Because the doodle craze is still going bonkers, and I’m sure if Obama had rescued one of those people would have simply bred more of them. It would have the opposite effect, I’m afraid, and we would have seen MORE doodles in rescue instead of less. I’m going to hope that breeders of Portuguese Water Dogs have already been very selective about where their pups go, and will continue to do so now that we have one as a First Dog. I mean, do that many people want a Portuguese Water Dog anyway? They aren’t thaaat great.

I just am tired of all the whining people are doing about “Oh, he should have chosen a shelter dog. Waah, waah, everyone in America is stupid and incapable of choosing a pet for themselves so they will all do what the President did!” That we all may do research into what breed of dog is best suited for our family and actually go to a responsible breeder. The world would be a better place. Dogs and people would be much happier.

Everyone is so down on any breeder. Some of us out here actually want purebred dogs. Purebred dogs not from a shelter. Purebred dogs whose lineage is known, who fit the breed standard, and who will hopefully turn into decent members of their breed. I don’t have anything against adopting dogs – please, adopt if and when you can. My lab is a wonderful, wonderful animal. Lab through and through – loves water, retrieves anything, loyal to the core. He’s from a shelter. Picked up running stray, he sat in the shelter for six weeks because he is the size of a small pony. As with any adopted dog though, he came with plenty of baggage. Some of it he’s still hanging onto. If I’d gotten him as a puppy, it would have been much, much easier to handle these issues.

It’s one thing to discover a budding dog aggression problem with your puppy and take steps to fix it, it’s quite another to discover at a dog park that your new 100lb friend likes to make unprovoked attacks on any intact male dog. Yippee!

As a parent, I think Obama made the best decision for his daughters. A six month old puppy is not likely to have any issues that can’t be fixed with good training. And yes, yes, he could’ve gotten a puppy from a shelter, and likely would have if his daughters didn’t have allergies. But they do, and their health and safety needs to come first.

So let’s lay off the “only shelter dogs are good dogs” rant because that simply isn’t true. The dog didn’t come from a puppy mill, so there’s that. I simply don’t think anyone, President too, should be harassed about wanting a dog of a certain breed, doing research, and purchasing a puppy that will most likely suit their needs. You live with your dog for a long, long time, it’s better for everyone if it’s a dog you actually enjoy.

Posted on April 14th, 2009 by michelle
Filed under: Not my dogs, Random run ins | 2 Comments »

I have to say, some of the warmest, most kind and considerate people I have in my life have come to me through the dog world, my husband included. I also have to say that some of the most obnoxious, inconsiderate, selfish bastards I have ever met are also part of the dog world. I make no secret out of the fact that people routinely annoy the fuck out of me, and that I have a very low tolerance for general stupidity. But really.

Yesterday evening I am at my little obedience club, chatting with friends and practicing with my old dog. Karma was on my friend’s lap giving some good collie love, and an olderish lady gets out of her car with a young Border Collie puppy in tow. This poor pup was maybe all of four months old, and she had him roped up on a gentle leader, which is fine if they are used correctly, but this poor little thing was flailing about like a fish on the end of a hook. She also had him on a super fabulous chain leash, you know, the kind they sell at the grocery store. Chain leads and retractable leashes drive me out of my mind, so pretty much my back was already up the second she came into view. They should be banned from production. Erg! Anyway, this puppy is clearly wound up, thrashing around, and she comes over and is trying to talk to us instead of attending to her freaking out puppy.

Crazy dog lady: “Is that a Border Collie?”

My friend: “Why, yes, yes it is.”

Crazy dog lady: “Oh, I just love Border Collies, I haven’t had one for years, but now I got this one for Christmas and I’m trying to make lots of Border Collie friends. How old is it?”

My friend looks at me blankly, and says “I don’t know, it’s her dog” and points to me.

By this time I’m already not very interested so I’m trying to be nice, I am, and tell her that the dog is 7 years old. She goes on about how she just loooves Border Collies, and asks me what the other Border Collies’ name is. Huh? Other Border Collie? Is she nuts? What the hell is she talking about? She points behind me, that Border Collie.

“Oh,” I say, “No I don’t know his name, because I really don’t like dogs and I’m a bit people aggressive so I don’t pay attention to dogs that aren’t mine.”

My friend is cracking up at this point, unable to believe I actually just said that, and that I’m being so rude. Whatever, I was already feeling testy, and since I’m not working, I don’t have to play nice if I don’t want to. We were obviously busy, and this lady was just being in your face super pushy crazy dog owner and I just don’t dig that. And her puppy was just flipping out. I’m sorry, but if you’re here for class, shouldn’t you be teaching your dog something other than to thrash around, bark and act obnoxious? Just a thought. She’s asking if we’re all going to be there in an hour so she can come make friends with the dogs. Yikes. I don’t know, we’ll see, we say.

Lady finally gets the hint that I’m just not interested in socializing, and the other people who’s conversation she was rudely interrupting were more interested in each other than her.

So an hour or so goes by, and we’re still working dogs, different ones, but still working. We decide to wrap it up, the baby is getting fussy, crying, ready for bed. I run to the restroom and leave Q with Josh and on my way back, who but crazy dog lady is walking towards them – her dog barking his head off, and she’s going, over and over again “Is the baby crying? Is there a baby crying?” I mean, what the fuck? You can see that her Dad is absorbed in getting her into her car seat and calmed down and you’re going to come get in his face? I hustle up behind her and body block her because it’s very obvious she’s going to let her dog jump all over my stroller, and my fussy baby, so her dog can “see the baby, it’s crying.” I’m pretty chill with Quinn and dogs. She’s comfortable with them, and a baby is a great distraction for obedience training. I hold Quinn and put liver in her lap while my other friend’s Border Collie pup gets the treats. Poor little Secret is afraid of the baby, but is getting more brave now that she’s learning the baby has liver in her pants. But this totally obnoxious stranger with an untrained puppy is going to let her pup jump all over me six month old?! I don’t think so. I don’t know you, I don’t know your dog, get the hell away from my baby. I would like Quinn to NOT be afraid of dogs, and NOT develop any fear of them, and having a sharp toothed puppy all over her while she’s already tired and cranky is NOT a good idea. So I get in between the lady and the stroller, you’d think she’d clue in on the body language – and SHE PICKS UP THE DOG so it can see in the stroller. What the hell?!?! Are you nuts? Completely, off your rocker cuckoo for coco puffs? What is wrong with you?

I do not understand. I truly don’t. Josh and I hustled Quinn to the car and left kooky lady in the dust, I was no longer trying to be even a little bit nice. Why? She’s completely invaded my personal space, and is not getting the clue that I don’t want to be her new Border Collie friend.

My poor husband says “I meet and deal with so many people, and I never run into the looney tunes that you do. It really must be something with dog people.” Poor guy. Dog people are nuts. Certifiable, complete loons. Granted, there are dog people out there who are wonderful. Kind, caring, loving attentive, awesome people. But dogs, with their unconditional love and acceptance, tend to attract the most dysfunctional of the human race.

Here’s the thing. Just because I own a dog, and you own a dog, does NOT mean I want to be your friend. Even less so do I want our dogs to be friends. I’ve always been this way, it’s just gotten worse in the last few years. No, I do not want your obnoxious animal jumping all over me so it can “say hello.” No, my dogs are not friendly and we would prefer you keep your distance. And no, I’m not really friendly either, so please, please? Just go away.

Posted on April 7th, 2009 by michelle
Filed under: Random run ins, The Naked Part | 5 Comments »