The Malfunctioning Goldendoodle

My dog is malfunctioning

I’ve noticed it outside

I don’t know how to describe it

Or if it can be classified.

I throw him the ball, and he runs

And catches up with it.

And then instead of bringing it back

He plops his butt down and sits.

He never brings the ball back

It’s a skill he sorely lacks.

While I’m running back and forth

He just seems to relax.

So it’s time to face the facts folks

Denial cannot be spoken

The poodle in him works just fine

But the retriever is definitely broken.

Current Mood: Puppy Whipped

I originally posted this back in January. It’s how I’m feeling today, so here ya go. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go take a certain Goldendoodle outside… again.  lol

At my desk working away and he’s there.

Head on my lap looking up at me

His big brown eyes stare into my soul.

They plead. He whines.

I know what he wants

But a deadline looms large over me.

Ignoring the warming weight on my leg

I try to concentrate.

But the rhythmic thumping of his tail distracts me.

I sigh, get up, grab his leash, and head outside

With him happily dashing ahead of me.

What can I say, I’ve been puppy whipped.

Elder Statesman Update #2

Today I took my cat Patches back to the vet for a follow-up appointment. We went into the examination room, and I let him out of his crate, and all he wanted to do was look out the window. The assistant tried to weigh him, and he was having none of it, he just wanted to sit at the window. She laughed and said, “Well, he’s friskier than he was last week.” As she said this, he hid behind a computer monitor so he could feel protected but could still look outside. This behavior made me feel better because this was his usual vet visit behavior. He has always loved looking out windows, and during the last visit, all he wanted to do was hide.

The vet said that he looked better, but his heart rate was still very rapid. They were unable to do a urinalysis on him today, but she said to just finish his antibiotic. She questioning raising his hyperthyroidism medication but then decided to wait and see how he did on it since he has only been taking it for a week. We have to go back in two weeks, and she will do further tests then. Until then I have to continue giving him his medications and, more importantly, let him eat all the food he wants to try and help gain some of the weight, he has lost, back again.

Update on the Elder Statesman

My cat, Patches, is showing signs of improvement! He has been out and about more than he has been over the past couple of days. Giving him his medications has been getting easier and this morning he showed that he forgave me by snuggling with me on the sofa right afterward. When he settled down, and I could feel him purring, I admit it, I shed a couple of tears. A few days ago, I honestly thought I was about to lose him, and now I’m hoping to have more time with him. And I’m not going to take a moment of it for granted.

Trying to Pill a Cat

Pilling a cat by yourself

is a practice in

Patience.

Holding a cat

That is wrapped like

A toweled burrito

In one arm

Pill popper in

The other hand.

Trying to wrangle

Him into opening

His mouth.

This morning’s

Double pill dispensing

Took almost

An hour

And left us both

Exhausted.

But my stubbornness

Is greater than his

And I know the importance

Of these meds.

I also know that

Success will be

A victory for us both.

I Wish Cats Could Talk

I wish cats could talk. Saturday night, I went to bed with my cat Patches appearing to be acting normally. When I woke up on Sunday and came downstairs, I found him hiding behind the chair in my mom’s bedroom. Immediately I knew something was wrong. Throughout the day, my concern only grew when he refused any food or water. I put a folded rug in the corner where he was so he wouldn’t have to lie on the floor and slid dry food, wet food, and plain water under the chair, so he only had to come out to use the litter box. I did this on purpose so I could monitor his urinary output. He did come out, for that purpose, several times during the day and evening. The most disturbing symptom he displayed was a kind of a moan he made when he exhaled. I watched him as closely as I could, while leaving him alone as well, and felt like he wasn’t in respiratory distress and decided to wait until this morning to take him to the vet. It was a long day and night yesterday because, at almost 17 years of age, I realize he doesn’t have much time left. But the idea of losing him so soon after my mom died was unbearable to my heart.

When I woke up this morning, my anxiety level immediately pegged out at a 10, and I went downstairs not quite knowing what I’d find. Luckily, Patches was still breathing, although the sound was now gone, and his eyes appeared brighter. Calling the vet, I wasn’t sure when I’d be going in. Luckily they were able to squeeze me in at 10 AM. So, off we went. Long story short, and this is why I wish cats could talk, my poor cat has a severe urinary tract infection, hyperthyroidism, and he is borderline diabetic. I had no idea he was so sick, and I feel horrible that, if there were signs, I had missed them. He has to take medication several times a day, and the vet seemed to be hopeful we could turn it all around. When we got home, I looked up hyperthyroidism in cats and was blown away. Weight loss, check. Increased appetite, check. Excessive thirst, looking back on it, check. Unkempt appearance, check. Vomiting, check. Many of his symptoms I just chalked up to him being an older cat and didn’t really think about it. So, that’s what my last couple of days have been about. Cats are stoic by nature and hide any symptoms when they don’t feel good. Patches has proved to be a master of this ability because, like I said, I had no clue he was so ill and I can only hope that the medications he has been put on will provide the relief and recovery he needs. He’s the elder statesman of my little household, and I’m just not ready for his presence to be gone from my life.

Attack Mode

He sneaks up on his prey

In the yard.

Tail wagging.

It has fallen during the storm

And now lies

Unnoticing of the danger

Lurking behind.

Without warning,

My golden retriever

Poodle

Beaver (?) mix

Hurls himself at the unsuspecting

Branch

And proceeds to

Tear it into pieces.

His ferocity knows

No bounds until

The branch lies in

Tiny fragments of

Its former self.

Then he looks to me

As if to say,

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

Summer Storm

The rumble started in the distance

Deep, long, and low.

Thunder approached, rain and hail

And lightning’s unholy glow

The wind tossed the treetops

And blew grass

Until it bent.

My dog sat glued

To my lap ‘til the tempest’s

Power had been spent.

Only then, did my dog

Bravely lift his head

And placed a kiss

On my cheek

As if “Thank you” he had said.

Thank you for comforting me

In the circle of your arms.

When I’m with you

I know I’m safe

And free from any harm.

Then he jumped down

To the floor, and yawned

His mouth gaped wide.

And all he wanted to do

As the sun came back out

Was go and play outside.

Peace Among Pets

WatsonPatches

The other night I had shifted from my spot on the sofa to the middle cushion to accommodate the needs of my overly jealous dog Watson and my territory-grabbing cat Patches. So, I had Watson settled on my left side, he had his head draped over my lap he was dozing and happy. Then Patches entered the scene so I patted the completely empty cushion to my right and coaxed him to hop up which he did. He turned around on the cushion and I was ready for him to curl up against me when he decided to cross over my lap and over Watson’s head and shoulders to move to the left cushion. Now, you have to understand that Watson and Patches have the quintessential love/hate relationship. Watson respectfully loves Patches, whereas Patches pretty much tolerates Watson on a good day. So I knew exactly what Watson was thinking when he looked at me unsure of what to do. Watson was currently occupying about 90% of the left cushion with his 40 pounds of fluffy red fur. I really wasn’t sure what to do either so I just waited and watched the scene unfold. Patches maneuvered himself into the remaining space and curled up against Watson’s rear end and went to sleep. After a minute of not knowing what Patches might do to him if he moved a muscle, Watson put his head back down and went back to sleep himself. I just sat there looking at these two animals seemingly happily “snuggled” up and felt my heart fill even more with love for my two boys who I am so grateful to have in my life. Of course, 5 minutes later Patches went from sound asleep to literally springing off the couch in one fluid movement, which startled Watson who nearly fell off the couch in the process and I had to catch him so he didn’t land on his head.  But hey, at least I had five minutes of peace.