We had a few inches of wet snowfall in my area recently and, during the storm, I took my dog out. For some reason, he found a section of brick lying near the house and decided that it would make a fun toy. Yes, he’s weird like that, lol. Anyway, the snow started sticking to the brick as he moved it along the ground with his feet. The thickening snow on the surface made it hard for him to pick up, so he tried to get the snow off by rolling it. Unfortunately, his doggie brain couldn’t process the fact that pushing it, it only added to the amount of snow sticking to the brick. In a very short time, it was encased in a snowy cube about half a foot across and kept growing as he managed to push it down a small hill. Running down to catch up with it, he started pawing at it trying to get the offending snow off and then he resorted to barking at it frustratingly. By this point, I was laughing so hard I could barely stand up, and he looked at me with this expression of, “Mom, it’s not funny!” I was finally able to get him to come inside, but the next day when we went out, he went right back to that brick and continued to try to play with it again. I gotta hand it to him, he’s a determined little guy.
Dawn seemed to rise earlier than normal the other day. The rising sun illuminated a flock of turkeys that were grazing in my front yard and congregating in my driveway. They were gathered five feet from my dining room window. The window my dog monitors all day, and apparently the wee hours of the morning as well. I was alerted to them, from my cocoon of cozy blankets and quilts, with him barking his fool head off for what seemed like an eternity. As I rolled over, I noticed my cat sitting in the window that overlooked the driveway. He looked at me and then outside and meowed his “I’m hunting birds” meow. Curiosity finally got to me, and I left the warm confines of slumber and staggered sleepily to the window and looked out. My eyes widened, I had never seen the flock so close to the house and being able to observe them so closely would have been more interesting if I hadn’t been half asleep. My bed beckoned me back to its warmth and snugness, and after telling my dog to be quiet, I returned to it and went back to sleep. Later, when I went downstairs to start my morning officially, I found my dog sound asleep on his bed in the kitchen. Evidently, his morning had left him as exhausted as I was and even the temptation of going outside failed to rouse him from his slumber. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and sat at the table and waited for him to wake up before we could start our day.
Earlier this afternoon, I took my dog Watson out in back to throw the ball around for him. I had only thrown the ball once when we both heard crashing through the woods next to us. I turned and looked nervously because there has been a mother black bear with three cubs seen near where I live. I didn’t see anything at first, but then I saw them. Two deer bounding through the fallen trees. They were magnificent. Solid muscle leaping and running without any hesitation. Luckily, my dog was so stunned and confused by what he was seeing he came running back to me rather than after them. It was interesting watching Watson watch them. I could see his brain trying to process the information. He looked to me and back to the deer and then back to me. The deer disappeared around the back of my yard, and the spell was broken. Watson went right back to playing as if nothing had happened. I guess he knew they were not a threat and felt like as long as I was there, he was safe.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Pilling a cat by yourself
is a practice in
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
Double pill dispensing
And left us both
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. 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.
He sneaks up on his prey
In the yard.
It has fallen during the storm
And now lies
Unnoticing of the danger
My golden retriever
Beaver (?) mix
Hurls himself at the unsuspecting
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?”