January 11th 2007 3:46 am
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It was just like any other ordinary Sunday afternoon. We -- my Mommy and I, and beside us Chloe and her walker , Virgie -- were about to cross the main street to go to the park. A dogwalker with a big black Rottie had just crossed the street where we were on, in front of us. Chloe and I barked our hullooos, but the Rottie didn't yap anything. It just kept turning its head looking at us. They were about 30 meters away from us and we were just about to cross the main road, when suddenly ... without a sound of warning, like a devil-hound out of hell ... the Rottie snapped his chain-link leash and ran straight for... ohmigarsh!... for ME!!! Before my Mommy and I could get away, it clamped its huge mouth on my face! Oh how I cried and yelped!!! I felt my face being stretched almost to the tearing point. I could here my Mommy screaming at it and its dogwalker. All the while that she was screaming and shouting for help, Chloe (who was being held tightly by her dogwalker) was barking angrily, eager to defend me ... and my Mommy beside me kept hitting the Rottweiler on the nose and eyes with her end of my retractable leash. Hitting and hitting again and again with all her might... it felt like hours, hours of pain and torture, but it happened in mere minutes... until she beat the Rottie into releasing me. Its dogwalker, shocked and unmanned, grabbed his monster and my Mommy, tired and weeping, wrapped her arms around me. Cars had stopped at the sight of the fight, one of whom was my Mommy's brother and his wife. A security guard soon came along and took over. Mommy sent Chloe and Virgie back home and we got into the car.
To make a long, traumatic story short, Mommy rushed me to the emergency room where I was treated for my wounds. The vet had to sew up the corner of my eye and a gash on my left flew (that's the flappy part of a dog's snout that hangs over the mouth) and treat the wounds on my neck and head with stingy medicine. Other than the shock and pain of the trauma, my wounds were minor. I guess that rotten Rottie had no real intention to kill me. Maybe it found me too cute for words and just wanted to take me as its stuffed toy! Well, I don't really care whatever its reason was for "mugging" me. I just pray it never ever happens to me again!
In the meantime, the village security had gone to the Rottweiler's owners and they filed a police report against them. Before we went home, my Mommy confronted the owner who was profusely apologetic and offered to pay for all the expenses. Since the damage on me was minimal, my Mommy decided not to charge them. She did, however, made sure that monster's shots were all up-to-date and got them to agree to muzzle their dog from now on, should they let it out walking in public again. But what my poor Mommy didn't realize until after the next day was that she too got physically hurt by the experience.
When the adrenaline that pumped up her system and helped her to beat at the Rottweiler with minutes continuously sustained pounding wore off (plus her loudest-I've-ever-heard screams), it was then that she felt the pain all along the length of her arms, all the way up her shoulders and neck muscles. It took a week of pain medication, several weeks of discomfort and a couple of sessions with a "hilot" before she was completely fine. But if I could, I'd tear that rotten Rottie to shreds for the pain and trauma she caused my Mommy and me.
Last we heard was a report from another dogwalker who says he saw that Rottie escape again from her leash and got run over by a van and died. I hate to sound vindictive but I'm glad she's no longer around to bite innocent doggies like me.
January 10th 2007 11:21 pm
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I hope I'll have a made-in-doggie-heaven 2007... because my 2006 was not too great for me in many ways.
2006 was coming alone fine until one day in February, my Mommy came home with my new little sister, Chloe. A cute but very hyper Jack Russell Terrier. Little did I foresee how this yappy upstart would wreak havoc on my peaceful and comfortable existence as the prime Princess of the household, the Doggie Diva of the family. But this pint-sized pup packed a pretty powerful punch -- she wanted to dethrone me! She wanted to usurp the position I've held for more than 6 years and be the number-1 dog!!! How dare she!!!
I tried my best to put up a fight ... several times in fact! ... but terriers are known to be unstoppable and unholy terrors, and beagles like myself are simply too sweet and gentle-natured to sustain a full-blast battle. She'd bite my legs to stop me from climbing up the armchair to nestle with our Mommy... She clamped onto my soft fluffy ear with her sharp teeth and left a gash... She bit me on my nose and even cut me on the neck! What an awful brat!!! Of course I was only too glad when Mommy would scold her and banish her to her cage for hurting li'l ol' me but that was all she could do. She said she has to leave it up to Chloe and me to thresh out our "ranking" -- that's Nature's way, she said. But Chloe's nips are never really meant to cause serious harm! Jacks are a naturally feisty mouth-y breed, so different in temperament from us peace-loving Beagles. So I've given up fighting and I've conceded. Well, sort-of. I let her strut around thinking she's now the number-1 dog, even though she's the smallest and the youngest. But I'm still the only one allowed to sleep beside my Mommy and she still calls me her Princess. My one greatest satisfaction is ... she can never dethrone Mommy as the Alpha in our pack!
The worst bite I had to endure did not come from Chloe at all! It was from a neighbor's Rottweiler!!! That was a terrible and very scary experience! That's in my next blog...
But there's good news as well for me in 2oo6. Remember the debilitating ehrlichia disease I got from tick bites that affected my liver. Well after almost a year of treatment, I've beaten the disease! My Mommy and I were jumping up and down for joy and thanksgiving when the Vet gave me an all-clear diagnosis just before my birthday! :-)
May 20th 2006 7:11 am
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I thought it was just the intense heat and humidity we've been having this summer. The reason why I wasn't feeling my usual active and perky self. And why I get so easily tired and I'd be panting after walking just a few blocks. Knowing how much I love to take long walks and having always showed great stamina and energy, my poorly condition got my Mommy worried. So she consulted our vet. Ugh, I hate it when the doctor stabs me with a needle. This time they did more than that — they X-rayed me and drew lots of blood! And they made my Mom give me lots of medicines! I hate taking medicine!
I felt a little better but still kinda depressed and enervated. So, a week or so later, my Mom took me to another vet in another city. This was a much bigger vet place. She says it's the Makati Dog & Cat Hospital — very well respected and highly regarded by even the other vets in the country as the foremost place to go for pet health. And the head vet himself attended to me. There I got stabbed again with a needle and the vet took more blood! What's this obsession with my blood??? The results showed that I had contracted ehrlichia, a blood disease caused by tick bites! Often misdiagnosed and usually fatal if treated too late. I could see my Mommy was scared and worried for me but she gave me a big hug and told me that we were going to beat this thing. Our mantra became "We're gonna lick ya, ehrlichia!"
I had to take loads of medicines every meal time for weeks, the most critical of which was the antibiotic Doxycycline. Ugh, what an ordeal!!! Not only that — the vet said I was overweight and had my Mom put me on a diet! DIET??? Moi? Mommy even went to prayer sites asking for prayers for me (and for Pucci, too, who was silly enough to chew on yekky toads!). She was so touched when emails poured in offering support, reassurances and prayers from pet-lovers from all corners of the world! I was thrilled too!
A month has passed and my recent blood tests have shown that I'm making a remarkable recovery. I am past the critical danger zone and on my way back to my old healthy and energetic self. My kidneys and liver are clear now. My platelet and white blood cell counts are starting to normalize. I can walk a little farther now without panting or feeling tired. In fact, I can even keep pace with Chloe and chase after her if I have to. I haven't lost any kilos yet but I have lost centimeters from my waist and my tummy doesn't sag as much as it used to. I feel pretty good, all in all. In fact, it feels really good to be loved and cared for by Mommy. I'm so blessed to be her dogter. Woof-woof-wooooofeeee!
October 13th 2005 12:42 am
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I turned 6 years old on 11th of October.
One vet had said, "Oh dear, 6 years old and still a virgin? Tsk-tsk, getting a little too old to produce a premium crop of puppies!" As if I care. I prefer to remain my "Mommy's" one and only puppy. Which brings me to the topsy-turvy, push-me-pull-you kind of a day my birthday was.
A friend had given my Mommy a Jack Russell terrier pup which she was supposed to give to another friend. He was a thin and teeny runt, if you ask me. And though I was pretty jealous of all the attention he was getting, I had to admit the little guy was kinda cute and very sweet, even towards me. My Mommy would feed him and care for him and even take him along on our daily walks. Of course I resented all that. I wouldn't let him take his nap beside me on my daybed but I tolerated him. She never really gave it a name because she didn't want to get too attached to the puppy that she's supposed to give away for adoption. But, nevertheless, the little guy fell for my Mommy right away (who wouldn't?) and she for him and he answered to the call of "Puppy"!
And then he got sick. All of a sudden! I could see my Mommy was very concerned as she rushed him off to the vet right away. She said that right there and then, she decided to give him a name. Papillon. Butterfly. I guess it was her heartfelt wish that Puppy would fight for his life and transform himself into a healthy handsome doggy he could be. I'd visit him and give him a loving sniff as he lay on his sickbed. My heart melted when I saw how quickly his condition was deteriorating. I'd watch my Mommy try to feed him and carry him in her arms to comfort him. But it was too late. In barely 2 days, Puppy died. And I came along to attend his funeral — he was buried in the center of a grove of banana trees close to our home so that we could visit him once in a while. My Mommy even placed a big pink hibiscus right on Papillon's grave.
My Mommy was very sad (although she tried hard to be happy for me — she kept hugging me so hard!). And so was the rest of the family. I guess I was sad, too. I didn't feel like enjoying a walk that day but Mommy forced me. I'm glad I did — neighbors would pet and hug me and wish me "Happy Birthday". Then after dinner, she and my "cousin" Camille gave me a scoop of vanilla ice cream ... with a lit candle on top! And they sang "Happy Birthday" to me and took my pictures as Ate Camille helped me blow out my candle. Which kept lighting back up again! That weirded me out! But not enough to stop me from enjoying my ice cream!!! My wish? That no matter how old and grey and slow I get, I will always be my Mommy's Number-1 Puppy!
May 31st 2005 12:44 am
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If there's anything I look forward to each day ... aside from waking up to see my "Mommy's" face smiling down on me every morning ... it's our regular afternoon walks.
There are times when she's too much into her work on the computer that I have to remind her that it's 5:30, time for our walk. (Why does it surprise her that I know it's already 5:30 even though I don't wear a watch or can't even read the clock?) And in a few rare occasions when she has to be out, I have to make do with other people taking me out. But my daily walks with my Mommy are almost always nothing short of a sally into adventure! Rain or shine, we're out there on our promenades! And nothing stops us. Well, except lightning. But that's rare.
To paraphrase that old saying of the US Postal Service : "Neither rain nor hail nor sleet nor snow nor heat of day nor dark of night shall keep this harrier from the swift completion of her appointed rounds." I don't know anything about sleet or snow - no such thing on this side of the Equator - but I bet even that wouldn't stop us! And I bet she'd find me the right gear to wear for those conditions! (To be honest, I'm not particularly fond of that raincoat she makes me wear! Someone please tell her beagles don't need raincoats!!! But it reassures her that I won't get too muddy, so I condescend to wear it! Hrumph!)
So whatever the weather, you can count on Mommy and this hound to be out there, legging it! What I like best is, more often than not, she lets me take the lead and lets my nose decide which way to our day's adventure. So I'm never bored because we don't always go to the same place and I don't get to sniff the same old smells. One day we'll go east to the big Dingalan greenbelt with the soft grass and the zebra doves to chase. The next day we'll head south where I can chase chickens on the loose or explore the mango orchards by the perimeter wall. All my Mommy wants is to get some exercise and be able to take photos. Photos of anything!!! From a flower in someone's garden to the patterns of the bark of an acacia tree. From brilliant multicolored sunsets to scary swirling storm clouds. From other doggies making friends with me to shots of paint cans (which I find weird!). Photos that she can post in what she calls her phlog.
I feel lucky because, where I live, there are many dog-friendly parks and open fields situated in different areas of the village. And I've been to almost all of them!!! I make friends in all the places we go to. There's Casey the macho mutt who loves following me around in the big greenbelt on Dingalan. There's Enzo and Wookie on opposite ends of our street. There's Roxie near the main park. And so many more canine comrades everywhere! By the time I get home, I am dogtired but hound-happy!
On the downside, Mommy feels she has to brush my coat hard ... to remove debris, ticks, and stuff that I pick up from the fields, especially when it's a wet rainy day! And she washes me up, too!!! My paws and privates get soaped up each night. Especially when it's rained and I get all nice and muddy. Urggh!
But all in all, every day is heaven for me... as long as, rain or shine, I get to walk with my Mommy! Awoooh!!!
November 11th 2004 7:45 pm
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I turned 5 years old last 11 October. "Mommy" put on my purple special-occasion collar for me and brushed my coat till it was shiny. But I didn't celebrate my birthday in the usual way -- No party in the garden with the walkers and their dogs; No giveaway treats like ice cream for my neighborhood pup-pals like Wookie or Casey; No showers of doggie gifts, except for a giant rope toy (and I refuse to accept the upstart Pucci as a birthday gift! Puh-leeez!!!). My "Mommy" says it's because I'm officially a grown-up dog now. grrAw-shucks!
But I guess she's right. I do feel a little grown-up. Although I still love playing tug-o-war and fetch and chase with my "mommy", I have no patience playing the same games with the rough and rowdy Pucci! I hate it when she pounces on me or tags my ears with her paw! I much prefer to sit quietly on my perch in the garden and survey the comings and goings of people and dogs on our street. I'd rather siesta at "Mommy's" feet while she works at her desk, then nudge her for a play-break every now and then. Oh dear, I hope growing up doesn't mean turning into a fuddy-duddy-doggie!!!
What I hate about being grown-up is my "Mommy" expects me to behave and wait patiently for her while she goes off on a long trip (one week is too long for me) to somewhere. This time to Kuala Lumpur! My auntie Bing took care of me while "Mommy" was away, sneaking me snacks of roasted chestnuts while we watch TV. Delicious!!! But I had too much and I threw up and my cousin Camille told my "Mommy" about it. Uh-oh... But when the rest of the family went away, too, for a 4-day holiday in Palawan, I felt orphaned, abandoned, alone! Awooooooh-hu-hu-hu! I cried and howled all night, keeping everyone at home awake and sleepless.
The next afternoon, my "Mommy" arrived! I couldn't decide whether to scold her, lick her, jump for joy on her, get mad at her. She's back and that's all that mattered. I was just so happy that I ran up and down the stairs and around all the rooms, barking my joy for everyone to hear! I slept well that night ... in my "Mommy's" arms. Now I'm happily settled in my daybed again, napping at her feet while she works at her desk, and hoping she never leaves me again. At the very least, she should take me with her. What do you mean I have to be quarantined to travel to another country??? Grrrr...
September 20th 2004 8:48 pm
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I will be 5 dogyears old in 20 days. How time flies! I was starting to think then that no one would ever want me because I was the runt, I wasn't perfect, and I was the only one left behind ... until this tall lady strolled into my breeder's home, with a chubby man and a pretty girl beside her. We took one look at each other and fell in love. I was devastated when she went away after a few minutes. Didn't she want me? Wasn't I good enough, cute enough? But, after a few hours, she came back! She talked to my breeder -- I thought it was strange that Mrs. Arnaiz was smiling and crying at the same time -- then she scooped me up in her arms and took me away. My new Mommy! Wow! My own beagle parents ran to the garden howling their goodbyes and good-lucks and admonishments to be good. And it's been almost 5 years of dog heaven for me and I haven't looked back since.
In all these years we've been together, my Mommy and I trained each other very well. She taught me to use the bathroom, sit, come, stay, dance and all the other commands (I prefer to call them "requests" or "suggestions") and we communicate either by voice or hand signals. It was fun, like going to school everyday. I trained her to stop what she was doing exactly at 5:30 every day to take me out for a walk and to serve me my lunch or dinner at the right time. I've also trained her to take a necessary break from her computer every hour at least. I give her my toy so that she'll get off her flat ass and play fetch with me for a few minutes. I tried to train her to get up at 7:30 in the morning but that's like starting a car with a dead battery! Futile! So I've learned to kiss her at 7:30, then snooze on in the mornings. Now, when she gets up ahead of me, she calls ME lazybones???
The best part of our day is our afternoon walk. My Mommy gets bored easily, like me, so she doesn't take me along the same route day after day. Usually we go to Narra and Maria Cristina Parks and socialize with my friends -- Wookie the Lhasa Apso, my ardent admirers Jerry and Tully, my fellow-beagles Ben and Nieves and Johnny, my neighbors Dexter and Waldo, Barney the feisty Manchester terrier, Twix the Chow --- my kuya Buddy sana also, that cuddly bear of a retriever, except that he passed away recently from liver cancer ... and so on. Sometimes she lets me take the lead and I'll pull her along Acacia Avenue to hunt for chickens who have escaped from their coops or through the "woods" behind the DLSZ Carpark so we can run all over the fields behind the Lorenzo mansion. There a handsome sheepdog comes to flirt with me. And sometimes, there's this bird that my Mommy says is the pied fantail that divebombs me and bonks me on my head with its beak! Pesky bird!
There are times when she would drive us to a different part of the village and we would explore that area. That's both fun and scary for me. Scary because I'm a stranger to the dogs of that area who sniff me with suspicion and curiosity. And fun because I get to enjoy new smells and exotically unfamiliar aromas, like goose poop and horse manure and carabao dung! (I wouldn't have known anything about other animals like geese, horses, goats and carabaos if my Mommy had not insisted on taking me along on family jaunts to the provinces -- she believes that travel is good for the soul!) But everywhere we go, kids come up to me and pet me. My Mommy always proudly introduces me and I gladly kiss them hello. So I'm no longer surprised when I hear children's voices shouting from a passing car or along the street "There's Coco! Hi, Coco!" I love having so many friends, both canine and human. As Niecy Nash would say, "Woo-woo-woo!" (She must have been a basset in her former life!)
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