Observations:In a word: “Ouch!!!”
We’ve entered the dreaded biting phase of puppyhood, as our little Labrador/Badger/Rattlesnake/Velociraptor has adopted a taste for human flesh. I’m about ready to start walking around with a bone or a rope in my pocket so that as soon as she lunges and strikes at my hands, I can stuff a toy in her mouth. Gone already are the days of our sleepily sweet puppy, who would fall recline upside down in your lap while you rubbed her hairless, pink belly. Here instead is the meat tenderizer, the little chocolate puppy who prefers fingers and toes to Kongs and tennis balls.
This morning, for example, Embry was on the bed, seemingly charming and ready to snuggle and nap. She crawled up to me, tail wagging, almond-shaped eyes glistening in the early morning sunlight. But then, in the amount of time it took me to yawn and focus my sleep-deprived vision, Embry coiled and launched herself directly at my face. Luckily, my cat-like reflexes enabled me to engage the pillow shield and roll out of the line of fire. During the scolding that ensued, she managed to latch herself onto my thumb, leaving four distinct teeth-like indentations.
We had a similar incident the other morning when Embry discovered pinecones. While we were out in the yard (…at 4:30am…), she grabbed a small pinecone and began thundering across the yard. When I caught her and removed said pinecone from her tightly-clasped palate, she became visibly aggravated with me, juking left to right and growling with as much ferociousness as a 10-week-old Labrador can muster. When I chuckled at her supposed animosity and turned to walk back into the house, however, Embry latched herself onto the back of my leg and violently shook her almost 11 pounds in a furious rage. The result of her efforts was a small hole in the leg of my pajamas…and a time out in her crate.
On the other hand, we spent all weekend sans baby gates. Sophie has apparently come to terms with the puppy staying, so she has stopped willing it to be gone. I wouldn’t go so far as to say she “likes” Embry, but she has at least stopped trying to eat her. If she gets tired of the puppy, she walks away and jumps onto the couch…or, if we aren’t looking, onto the chair. The same goes for Darcy. As long as Embry keeps her distance and doesn’t bite Darcy’s tail, everyone exists within relatively peaceful acceptance. Not bad for only a few weeks. This is a difficult adjustment for older dogs and I’m thrilled with how they’ve come around.
Especially Darcy, whose vestibular disease made an unwelcome return on Thursday. It’s a scary thing to see her suddenly dizzy, stumbling, and seemingly incoherent. Quite literally, she is fine one minute, then awkwardly faltering the next. After spending the night at the vet, a shot of Prednisone, a dose of Meclizine, and a few rounds of Cerenia (the miracle anti-nausea drug for dogs), she is on the road to recovery. It usually takes one to two weeks to get back to “normal”, which is to say the dog learns how to adjust to the affliction. It’s a sober reminder that she is 15 years old.
But my money is still on her if you ever mess with her feet…
Number of Days Without an Accident: Zero
Today, I'm Bleeding From: My thumb and my wrist.
Number of Leaves Eaten Today: None, plus one pinecone.
Current Interests:
I’m not too thrilled about no longer getting lunch. Now, I apparently only get breakfast and dinner, which is somewhat uncool. These people have not yet learned that you don’t mess with a Labrador’s food! We like routine. We like large amounts of food. We like large amounts of food provided routinely, preferably with a large side order of more food. I like the fact that I can keep stuffing an impressive amount of food into my gullet. I’m sure this will come in handy some day when somebody forgets to close the pantry door.
I think I’ve finally figured out the Yellow Dog. As long as I keep at least two feet between us, she doesn’t growl and show me her giant teeth. Now that we are nearing the peaceful acceptance stage of our relationship, there are no baby gates, which leaves a longer runway for me to thunder through the downstairs. More importantly, the extra space gives me more variety in terms of places to pee…which I still like to do often.
I also really like teeth. Teeth can be used to chew on upholstery and table legs. And thumbs. And blankets. And the plastic stuff inside the dishwasher. And the metal pieces on the bottom of the refrigerator. And the side of the island in the kitchen. And toes (LOVE toes!). And pinecones. I like teeth. I think I shall use them even more often.
The Other Dogs are Currently:
Darcy............*mmm* “All this chicken makes it almost worth getting sick.”
Sophie..........."I’m going to barf a huge pile of crap on the floor.”
Tank Man.......*hehe* “Watch what it does when I growl at it…”
Traz.............."Dog Jail sucks."
We’ve entered the dreaded biting phase of puppyhood, as our little Labrador/Badger/Rattlesnake/Velociraptor has adopted a taste for human flesh. I’m about ready to start walking around with a bone or a rope in my pocket so that as soon as she lunges and strikes at my hands, I can stuff a toy in her mouth. Gone already are the days of our sleepily sweet puppy, who would fall recline upside down in your lap while you rubbed her hairless, pink belly. Here instead is the meat tenderizer, the little chocolate puppy who prefers fingers and toes to Kongs and tennis balls.
This morning, for example, Embry was on the bed, seemingly charming and ready to snuggle and nap. She crawled up to me, tail wagging, almond-shaped eyes glistening in the early morning sunlight. But then, in the amount of time it took me to yawn and focus my sleep-deprived vision, Embry coiled and launched herself directly at my face. Luckily, my cat-like reflexes enabled me to engage the pillow shield and roll out of the line of fire. During the scolding that ensued, she managed to latch herself onto my thumb, leaving four distinct teeth-like indentations.
We had a similar incident the other morning when Embry discovered pinecones. While we were out in the yard (…at 4:30am…), she grabbed a small pinecone and began thundering across the yard. When I caught her and removed said pinecone from her tightly-clasped palate, she became visibly aggravated with me, juking left to right and growling with as much ferociousness as a 10-week-old Labrador can muster. When I chuckled at her supposed animosity and turned to walk back into the house, however, Embry latched herself onto the back of my leg and violently shook her almost 11 pounds in a furious rage. The result of her efforts was a small hole in the leg of my pajamas…and a time out in her crate.
On the other hand, we spent all weekend sans baby gates. Sophie has apparently come to terms with the puppy staying, so she has stopped willing it to be gone. I wouldn’t go so far as to say she “likes” Embry, but she has at least stopped trying to eat her. If she gets tired of the puppy, she walks away and jumps onto the couch…or, if we aren’t looking, onto the chair. The same goes for Darcy. As long as Embry keeps her distance and doesn’t bite Darcy’s tail, everyone exists within relatively peaceful acceptance. Not bad for only a few weeks. This is a difficult adjustment for older dogs and I’m thrilled with how they’ve come around.
Especially Darcy, whose vestibular disease made an unwelcome return on Thursday. It’s a scary thing to see her suddenly dizzy, stumbling, and seemingly incoherent. Quite literally, she is fine one minute, then awkwardly faltering the next. After spending the night at the vet, a shot of Prednisone, a dose of Meclizine, and a few rounds of Cerenia (the miracle anti-nausea drug for dogs), she is on the road to recovery. It usually takes one to two weeks to get back to “normal”, which is to say the dog learns how to adjust to the affliction. It’s a sober reminder that she is 15 years old.
But my money is still on her if you ever mess with her feet…
Number of Days Without an Accident: Zero
Today, I'm Bleeding From: My thumb and my wrist.
Number of Leaves Eaten Today: None, plus one pinecone.
Current Interests:
I’m not too thrilled about no longer getting lunch. Now, I apparently only get breakfast and dinner, which is somewhat uncool. These people have not yet learned that you don’t mess with a Labrador’s food! We like routine. We like large amounts of food. We like large amounts of food provided routinely, preferably with a large side order of more food. I like the fact that I can keep stuffing an impressive amount of food into my gullet. I’m sure this will come in handy some day when somebody forgets to close the pantry door.
I think I’ve finally figured out the Yellow Dog. As long as I keep at least two feet between us, she doesn’t growl and show me her giant teeth. Now that we are nearing the peaceful acceptance stage of our relationship, there are no baby gates, which leaves a longer runway for me to thunder through the downstairs. More importantly, the extra space gives me more variety in terms of places to pee…which I still like to do often.
I also really like teeth. Teeth can be used to chew on upholstery and table legs. And thumbs. And blankets. And the plastic stuff inside the dishwasher. And the metal pieces on the bottom of the refrigerator. And the side of the island in the kitchen. And toes (LOVE toes!). And pinecones. I like teeth. I think I shall use them even more often.
The Other Dogs are Currently:
Darcy............*mmm* “All this chicken makes it almost worth getting sick.”
Sophie..........."I’m going to barf a huge pile of crap on the floor.”
Tank Man.......*hehe* “Watch what it does when I growl at it…”
Traz.............."Dog Jail sucks."
We really should've named her:
ReplyDeleteApple Blossom Dammit Ember.
i'm having flashbacks from Rocko's "childhood!!!" Hang in there!!
ReplyDelete