Today is September 17. We have had 11 appointments for Annika so far this month, plus two vet appointments. Oh, and Jason’s been gone. So it’s safe to say there is rarely a dull moment around here.
Blue not being an asshole.
Yesterday as the PT arrived at the house for Annika’s session, the stars aligned in a negative way and Blue decided he needed to remind Reno that he is the Alpha Dog. (Jason says this is somehow my fault for not asserting myself as the Alpha since he left. This is me rolling my eyes a little bit, but then again this crap doesn’t Balkan when he is around.) Anyway they both have bones out front, plus Blue has been chewing on a branch/big stick for the past couple of weeks. A little nub of the branch had come off, and Reno picked it up. Let it be known that Blue (the asshole in this story) was across the yard looking at the grass. He suddenly attacked Reno and they were fighting. I thought they would get over it, as they sometimes scuffle in play excitement, but it quickly became apparent that this was more than that. I ended up handing Annika off to the PT and proceeded to beat my dogs (hey PETA) with the stick, trying to get them to stop fighting. It easily lasted for about 3-4 minutes. I couldn’t really get them apart, because if I got them to stop for 2.5 seconds, the other one would lunge at whoever I was holding and all hell broke loose again. I was beating them and screaming “STOP IT!” (they didn’t care.) I had seen my parents break up their dogs once with water, but of course their bowl was empty and it didn’t even occur to met to get the hose and turn it on them. I finally pinned Blue against the fence with the stick long enough to usher Reno out the gate into the driveway. The PT got Blue inside. Reno had a few bite marks on his ears, but despite all of the slobber (Blue’s) all over his scruff and neck, there were no injuries there. It seems like Blue could have done more damage, but was more just asserting his dominance. (i.e. being an asshole.) I cleaned Reno up with some peroxide and will keep an eye on them for infection.
The stick that is now in the garbage can
I was hoarse and panting. It was scary and frustrating more than anything, because they are assholes and they don’t give a damn when I tell them to stop something. It reminded me that they did this the first time Jason was gone (though it’s not like he’s been gone long this time…) I even went out and bought them crates when he went to Afghanistan because I couldn’t deal with them. I eventually started walking them to help them get some energy out. I took them the other night for the first time ever with Annika in the stroller (since she doesn’t hate it now), so I guess I will have to implement that more frequently.
I took away their bones and dog beds (anything they could fight over) last night, and slept nervously, hoping they wouldn’t fight inside the house. They each paced the bedroom separately without their dog beds. Those princesses were completely befuddled where they were supposed to lie down and sleep. Finally I think Reno took the dog couch in the living/dining area (yes they have their own couch) and Blue took the rug.
Yesterday evening. I was hopeful they were over it.
This morning Reno was a little edgy, and still is to a degree, but I left them alone when I had to take Trixie to the eye vet, an hour away. She has iris melanoma, which is little spots all over her eye. They looked like freckles. The options were either to laser them off now, (they weren’t bothering her), or wait and eventually she would get glaucoma (I think?) and lose her eye. Annoyingly, it started right when we moved to Germany but the vet there said it was some sort of virus that was just dormant in her system and not hurting her. Is that what you guys call cancer?
This was taken in Germany, but you get the idea. It has gotten a little worse.
I set my alarm for 7. Apparently I hit “off” not “snooze.” I woke up again at 7:45, and barely got out the door little after 8, which was when I had wanted to leave. As I drove out of our neighborhood, a cat ran across the street in front of me. Just then, I pulled to a stop sign with a sign on it, “MISSING CAT. BLACK WITH BROWN STRIPES.” Well, it was a black and brown tabby. Maybe I should go back. It was only like 30 feet. Sure enough, he was under a car. He came right to me, so I texted a photo to the number on the sign and asked if it was her cat. She called and said she couldn’t be sure (???) but was on her way. A few minutes later she was ecstatic saying she *thought* that was her Toby, but I said please go get his microchip checked just in case, because if not, you are stealing someone’s cat from their front yard.
A bit later she texted me to say she looked closer and noticed he was declawed and her cat wasn’t, but thank you, she returned him, and I had renewed her hope in finding her cat. Too bad, because I noticed later that the signs say there is a reward.
The GPS now said I was going to be 20 minutes late dropping Trixie off. To be fair, they wanted her there between 8 and 9, for a surgery that wouldn’t start until 11. Getting there at 9:20 wasn’t the worst thing. I was trying to do a good deed.
When I dropped her off I told them we lived an hour away, and that if they could do her first and call me ASAP, I would appreciate it. I was going to try to kill time and hang around in the area. Annika and I went to McDonald’s, then Trader Joe’s. I decided to just go ahead and drive home because they told me the earliest they would be done was 2. It was 11 something.
As we got home, I checked my email. I had one from the vet- “We tried to call you but your phone said it was not accepting calls. (?? I was just on the phone with someone who had called me, why does the Universe hate me?) Trixie is done and can be picked up at 12:30.” Email time stamped 11:20. I’m reading it at 12:11. If they had called me, I would have turned around and gone back. Instead, Annika and I spent an extra 2 hours on the road today. Trixie seems to be fine so far, and her eye is just going to be permanently discolored.
Then I came home, fed us both, and vacuumed and cleaned the floors. I started some laundry and cleaned the litter box and have decided that I am never getting another pet ever again.
And for no particular reason, a picture of Dora the Explorer, checking out the hallway. Don’t judge her loungewear outfit.