She’s a Pisser, All Right…

Hello, hello!  How is your month going?  Things are about the same as usual around here.  Writing is a struggle, submissions are on schedule, reading is being accomplished, and I’m slowly getting into my new hobby of crocheting (we’ll see how far I can get with it).  But I have nothing writerly to talk about, so I thought I would formally introduce you to the dog we got on Christmas.  You’ve seen pictures of her if you’ve been stalking me, but it’s time to let you know all her dirty little secrets.

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On Christmas, Dad’s friend and the friend’s woman-friend brought over two Pomeranians, husband and wife.  The woman had inherited them from her dead husband who had inherited them from a friend who had passed away.  Due to the hours she works, she didn’t have enough time to dedicate to properly caring for the dogs, so Dad’s friend suggested us as potential pupper parents.  Unfortunately, they neglected to mention that the boy dog had congestive heart failure (claiming repeatedly that he just had a cough and was always lethargic like that) and didn’t bring his medicine until the next day, so he passed away.  It was a bit traumatic for Dad (especially since the dog died in his lap while he was trying to give it its medicine) and I, but the girl dog stuck around.

Her name is Lady.  For the record, we didn’t name her, not that it really matters since she doesn’t seem to know her name anyway.  She answers to “Hey!” more than anything.  I tend to call her Fuzzybutt, but Dad thinks she should be named “Rocks” since she’s about as smart as a box of ’em.  She doesn’t know any commands and doesn’t seem keen to learn any.  But aside from being on the dumb side, she is the happiest dog ever!  Always prancing around like she deserves ALL the treats.  She demands cuddles and pets, but she won’t kiss for them.  As long as you’re touching her, she’s your friend for life.

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Pretty much.

She’s a great dog.  Super sweet.  She goes outside to poop.  The only problem is that she pees wherever she wants, which is usually in the house.  Dad even installed a doggy door for her, but it makes no difference.  In the beginning, we assumed it was her bedwetting problems, which she has medicine for but refuses to take recently.  Apparently, she just likes peeing on soft things.  The sofa, clean laundry, pillows, our beds, her bed.  It’s weird.  And it’s like she holds it all day or night just so she can soak things down.  She’s just doing it out of spite, because it seems to get worse when we leave her alone for a few hours (like to go get dinner).  She’ll be fine while we’re gone, then she’ll soak her bed or a pillow or something after we’ve been home a while.  Suggestions for how to break this habit are welcome.  Everything on the Interwebz starts with “put her bed there because she won’t pee where she sleeps!”  But I call bullshit, because she most certainly does.

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And they do.

Other than the peeing thing, she’s such a good pupper (she’s 8, but all dogs are puppers).  The vet and staff love her.  The groomer loves her.  We love her, but shhhhh… don’t tell her that.

All Dogs Go To Heaven

Hey, all!  I don’t feel much like writing a big post right now.  We had to put our last puppers down yesterday (or today as I’m writing this).  He was pretty old for a chihuahua (15 or 16), and he was really sick, so we had to make the choice.  Instead of the usual post, I think I’ll just spam you with pictures of some of our old puppers.

That’s Chewy.  He’s the one we just put down.  Mom rescued him back in 2002 or so and he was with us ever since.  He liked to pee on people and cuddle and would run around bumping into things because he was blind.  He was the baby of the family.

This was Dame Julia of Mesquite.  She was my Jujubee.  We had to put her down back in 2014 and she was around 13 or 14 and she was really sick.  She was my protector.  Whenever she was in lap, you couldn’t come near me without getting nipped at.  I fully admit she was rotten and spoiled.

Toto!  She was my sister’s dog that she got from one of Dad’s jobs.  She was put down in 2011, but I’m not sure how old she was (at least 13 or so).  Her snaggle-teeth weren’t helped by the fact that she liked to attack socks and wouldn’t let go even after you lifted her off the ground.  She was the sweetheart.

This was Speedy.  He was the first dog that was supposed to be mine, but he got too big to sit in my lap.  We got him in 1993 from one of Dad’s jobs and he stayed with us until 2010 when he had to be put down.  He was Dad’s pup once he crawled up behind Dad’s neck and watched TV with him.  He would sing and bounce around and was generally the sweet, loving old man.

We had plenty of other dogs before these four, including Schnapps and Michelob.  I don’t remember a time in my life when there wasn’t at least one dog around.  It’s a weird feeling.  That’s all I really feel like saying this week.  I’ll be in better spirits next week.  See you then!