March 3rd 2012 12:35 am
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Today was not a wonderday. A wonderday is any day my mom stays home from work and takes me for lots of walks, gives me a bath or chases me around the house until I'm outta breath. No, today was another not-so-good day. I got myself all worked up while mom was away and tore things up pretty good. I did this yesterday, as well...and one other time last week. Until this, I've been a model citizen--never once complaining or doing anything out of line when home alone. But, I've turned over a new leaf and need to let my mom know something is awry.
Part of the issue is that my command post provides an excellent view of Spa Creek and downtown Annapolis--as well as ducks, geese, seagulls, squirrels and ravens. But...they are all outdoors and free to cavort, squawk, scamper and waddle. While I am stuck inside. All day, for oh-so-long. Luckily, I can't tell time, but I do know my mom leaves me with a "bye bye goodie" when the I'm just getting interested in playing, and doesn't come back to hug me until it's time for my dinner. Yeah, it's true that I'm an independent kind of dude, but I want to be outdoors with all those other critters! Especially since we're having fine springlike days lately; there's just so much going on out there!! Instead of sniffing, snorting, peeing, poking and hunting...I just mope inside, listening to NPR, which mom leaves on to keep me company. Doesn't she know I'm tired of hearing about presidential campaigns, rising gas prices, suicide bombers and DC school problems?!? I want to run free!
So, that's why I'm rebelling. Mom's thinking of leaving the blinds closed, so I won't get so destructively agitated by all thats going on out there. But, sheesh, can't she see that what I really need is more attention, more mom time, more "good boy" training and, especially, more more more walks!
October 12th 2012 7:36 pm
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I've been feeling a little under the weather lately, and my beautiful white fur was getting pink on my paws, tummy and face...and yucky brown around my cute little face. My mom took me to the vet. She said I had a fungus on my footpads and needed some medication and lots of special baths. All was well for a while, but then, geez, all the medicines seemed to make me want to drink BUCKETS of water. And, y'know what happens if we drink buckets of water, right? I needed to go outside to visit the shrubbery about every ten minutes!
Well, my mom works far away and has a long commute...and I've had some, well, let's call them "issues" with the dog-walker letting me get a little aggressive with some scary guy's shoes (I swear those boots looked just like the UPS man's muzzle-kickers!). So, my mom leaves me on my own all day. And I've been so good with this, really I have. I usually just cross my legs and wait patiently until my Mom comes home, and we go for a long, frisky walk. But...with all the chugging of water...I just haven't been able to hold it. I was so embarrassed!
So, my mom took me back to the vet, just to be sure I was ok. (Oh no. Not that thermometer again! Really??) The vet and my mom talked a long time, and the feeling in the room seemed sad. I think I heard the vet say that maybe the long days away just weren't good for a Westie. All I know is, when we came home, I heard my mom sniffling a little while she contacted the rescue people to talk about something called "options."
For the lots of days (I lose track. I'm a dog!!), I noticed my mom seemed really remote, like she was trying not to get too close to me. I felt bad. I didn't know what I'd done! I think she was trying hard to make a decision, and a few times I heard her say, "I just wish I knew the RIGHT thing to do for you, Doogie!"
Then one day, my mom went away to think. She parked in a remote area near the woods and sat and sat. Then the miracle happened. She saw something in the rearview mirror. Something white...and obviously adorably cute. It was a Westie. From out of nowhere! Then there was another one! She didn't see anyone around and jumped out of the car, unable to believe her eyes. She looked and looked. One Westie definitely wasn't on a leash; but then she saw a thin, stretchy line leading off into the woods...and a nice man popped out. He looked a little like Mr. Rogers! My mom and the man talked about his two cute guys and...for no reason at all...she told him that she was trying to make a tough decision. She told him the story...that she was gone too long all day and worried that a Westie should be able to run free and play all day long and maybe somewhere there was a place like that for...yikes...me! And the nice man said, "Y'know. That dog doesn't even know what he's missing. Does he sleep at the foot of your bed? Does he wait for the chance to sit at your feet? Does he look at you like you're the best thing since bacon-wrapped-rawhide? He isn't missing out on anything! But, if he went to yet another home in a long string of homes...he would miss YOU."
Thank goodness this nice man showed up to talk to my mom. From that moment on, she has been at peace. And we are back to our good ol' life together. And I'm not going anywhere else. Ever.
Having an angel on your side is a great thing!
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