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Donovan's Days

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May 18th 2009 4:24 pm
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In mid-February Mom brought home a half-grown puppy named Dazzler. He was supposed to be her new service dog when I retire (years and years from now). Dazzler turned out to be a real problem dog. He leapt with great force up on people. While leaping he chomped on people. He had no idea how to do something easy. He especially liked to leap on Mom and chew on her. Mom finally figured out how to keep him from doing that. But nothing would stop Dazzler from leaping up on others and chomping on their arms. Luckily, the three people that had blood drawn by Dazzler were men. Men are less likely to freak out over things like that, though one did. In fact if it hadn't been for him freaking out Mom would never have known about the blood being drawn. The freaking out man told Mom that if Dazzler drew blood on him one more time he was turning Dazzler in to the police. The freaking out man also told Mom who the other man who had blood drawn by Dazzler was. The third man who got blood drawn by Dazzler was right in front of Mom when it happened. Mom was appalled when it happened. Especially since the man was trying to help her control Dazzler. The final straw was the Thursday afternoon when Dazzler, after not being allowed to attack two strange dogs, attacked Donovan. Dazzler latched onto the left side of Donovan's head, and had to be pulled off. The lady who pulled Dazzler off Donovan is a dog trainer. She said two things: First, that now that Dazzler had attacked Donovan he would continue to do so, and could not be in the same space as Donovan; Second, that Donovan may have deliberately gotten in Dazzler's way to stop Dazzler from attacking Mom. Dazzler went straight to a boarding facility where he stayed until Saturday morning. Mom picked him up then and took him to Poway where he was picked up by his breeder.

The breeder is unwilling to give Mom back the money Mom paid in good faith for Dazzler. The head trainer says we will take her to court if we have to.

Now. In four months, give or take a week or two, Mom will have a new, real, little, puppy. This puppy will be an eight to ten week old labradoodle. This labradoodle will be chocolate, and will be less than half poodle. The mother is three-quarters poodle, and the father is a labrador. So it should be an interesting looking dog. Mom wants to call the puppy Jethro if it's a male; and Ziva, if it's a female. In the meantime, Mom is going to enjoy the peace and quiet of having just me, Donovan.


Dazzler leaves - Jethro or Ziva arrives

May 13th 2009 3:47 pm
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The middle of February Mom got a new boxer. She thought she was getting an eleven week old puppy. It turned out to be an eleven month old puppy. Dazzler turned out to be not service dog material. So he went back to his breeder.

Now we are going to get a labradoodle. A chocolate labradoodle, probably a male to avoid alpha female troubles. The mom labradoodle is just now being bred to produce the pups. That means nine weeks for the gestation, plus forty-one days for them to be the ideal age for temperament testing.

Mom will have to go to service dog school for two and a half years to get her service dog trained. That's because the head trainer wants Mom to stay in practice for the puppy. This should be one exceptional service dog.


More Surgery

October 27th 2008 6:35 pm
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On October 3rd I found out I needed eye surgery. I had another thing that boxers get... a crack in the topmost layer of my cornea. They had four other boxers in with the same thing the day I came in.

Monday, October 6th they did the surgery. My wonderful Mom had found a benefactor who paid most of the cost of the surgery. It was a good thing too, because even with the surgeon doing as little as she possibly could it was still lots of money.

When I got out of surgery, I did what I usually do, and stood right away. Only there was a new problem. I had this thing on my head. I wanted it off. No one would take it off.

I found out when they took me out to go with Mom that it wasn't coming off. Not at all. Not for two weeks. Aaaaaaauuuuuuggggghh! Mom was as unhappy about it as I was.

Well, we made it the two weeks. Now I only have to wear it at night because Mom sleeps later than I do, and she has to make sure that I don't rub my eye while she's sleeping.

On Monday, November 3rd, I go back to the doctor again. They will give Mom a new bottle of drops. Something different for my eye. That drop will need to be put in for at least a week.

I will probably go back to the doctor one more time. To get pronounced all better. I sure hope I never have another crack in either of my corneas.


No! No! Not a Cone!

October 9th 2008 6:57 pm
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Last Thursday I went with Mom to a different place. Everybody was very nice, but they all wanted to look at my eye. I mean, just because it was red and puffy, and hurt me...

The next day we went back. They did an awful thing to me. They put me to sleep, and messed with my eye! I hate that fake sleep! I got up as soon as I could stand. They had put a CONE! on me! Auuuugh! I hate the CONE!

They also must have called Mom, because she showed up and took me away. At first I couldn't get in Nancy's car, because of the darned cone, so she opened the back and let me in that way. All I wanted was to go to sleep in Mom's lap,and to get that cone off.

We got home, and surprise! Mom did not take the cone off. C'mon, Mom! Take it off, ok? She talked serious to me about why she couldn't take the cone off. It about made me sick.

I went over by the door to watch for monsters, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, Mom gave me a big piece of hamburger, yummy. Then I got sleepy again. I slept all the rest of the day, and all night. The cone did not go away.

It's been a long time. Mom says a week. I have only been out to toilet, and we don't go very far. Mom says we're going back to the doctor tomorrow. Maybe she will take the cone off! All I know is that I am thoroughly sick of the cone and only walking this short distance. I will be so glad when life goes back to normal.



March 10th 2008 5:09 pm
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My Little Brother-to-Be

November 21st 2007 7:08 pm
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My mom is searching for a puppy to be my little brother. I am to help her teach him all that I know about taking care of her. We need a very special puppy. He must pass the "temperment test" that Cyndy will give him. The easy things are that he must be able to hear. But he must not be afraid of loud noises. There is a lot more, and Mom doesn't know all the things.

If you are having boxer puppies any time sooner or later, we have a year to look. Please let us know about your puppies. The perfect puppy may even turn out to be a girl! It really doesn't matter. It's just that Mom is used to me, and thinks all her service dogs have to be male. You can contact us through Dogster mail. We read all our mail. Especially if it says "Puppies" in the subject line.


I hate pills!

September 20th 2007 3:49 pm
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Woof, woof!

I got a spider bite on my left shoulder. Like always, it swelled up and got infected. Mom and her friend freaked out and took me to the vet. The vet said the wound needed to be washed out, and that I needed expensive pills. (Forget the pills, ok?) Mom's friend had to pay for everything because Mom was broke. So I got my "wound" flushed out and two weeks worth of pills. (Please forget the pills!)

Mom had fun, (Not) pushing the pills down my throat. She finally figured it out, and now I don't choke, just gulp a little. She slides the pill in the side of my mouth, down the side of my throat. Hey! Bingo! Pill is all gone. I still hate pills.

After the first two weeks of pills, the vet decided one more week would be a good idea. (NO! No more pills! Whimper.) So Mom gets to use her technique for giving me pills for another week. I get to be a good boy and let her. Yes, I let her. She is a good Mom, and wouldn't really hurt me for anything.

I also had my gums resected. It seems that my gums were growing over my teeth which is a real problem for good dental health. So part of my gums had to be cut away from my teeth. Mom paid for everything this time. It made her grumpy, but she paid it. That's also why I'm getting everyone of those pills. She paid for 'em and by gosh, I'm taking 'em.

Like I said, though, she's a good Mom. Woof! Woof!


The Vet, and Surgery, maybe

August 29th 2007 8:52 pm
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Woof! Woof! Woof!

Mom keeps saying "vet" and "surgery" and I just know that she means me. How do I know? I have a wound on my left shoulder that everyone was saying was a hot spot. Well this afternoon Samuel saw it. He is sort of an expert on dog hurts. He said it's either a wild grass head or something that has worked its way into me, or a bug bite. He says that either way the vet has to open the wound up and clean it out, then put a tube in to drain it.

I had a tube in once before. Mom wouldn't let me touch it. I really didn't want to, though I did want it out. When the vet took it out after a week, I was really glad.

It looks like I am in for another tube, and another surgery. At least Mom and my favorite lady will be along at the vet's.


The Terrible Thing

August 19th 2007 9:57 pm
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I had a sore foot yesterday. I get sore foot fairly often and Mom thinks it's because I'm six-and-a-half. Maybe that's so, but it doesn't excuse the Terrible Thing they did to me.

When it came time to go home, Mom put me in her friend's car. Then Mom took off by herself on her electric wheelchair. MOM, I'm right here, MOM. I'll save you MOM. Let me out of this car, Grrrrrr. It was awful. The friend driving the car kept saying nice things to me, but I didn't care. I was too worried something would happen to my Mom.

We finally turned into our driveway. Then I knew Mom wasn't in as much danger. I still wanted to be right beside her. Mom's friend took me right to our house (apartment) and let me out to be with Mom. I was so glad. Mom was glad, too.

All this because I had a sore paw!


My Mommy Helped Me

August 14th 2007 9:37 pm
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Woof! Woof! Woof!

Every so often I get a hot spot where my service dog vest rubs me. The last one was on my right shoulder. This one is on my left shoulder.

Tonight we went up to my favorite pet store. My favorite person working there told Mom how to treat my hot spot.

So Mom went to the drugstore and got pink stuff, gooey stuff, and flat things. She put the pink stuff and the gooey stuff on my hot spot, then she covered it with one of the flat things. It felt wonderful. I can sleep now.

Mom's notes: The pink stuff is calamine lotion. The gooey stuff is neosporin, and the flat things are gauze bandages.

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