Tag: dogs Page 1 of 2

More snuggles, less struggles: How an old dog taught us something new

This was something I wrote for my friend’s new dog rescue, Blue Man Dog. I thought I’d re-post it here (on Father’s Day!) for the cuteness…

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Pita the Chillhuahua: How we lost an election but gained a perfect dog

While on a walk the other morning — coffee in one hand, leash and a cranberry muffin in the other — I had this overwhelming feeling of contentment. It was early, and bit chilly, but the sky was cloudless so the sun was warm on my face. Our local cafe had my favorite muffins. And Pita the dog was walking perfectly along side of me.

What? Did I say “the dog”? Oh, I didn’t tell you about that yet? Sorry, it’s been a busy couple months…

we-got-a-dog

We got a dog!

Chespita (her full given name) came into our lives right as the world started falling apart. We fostered-to-adopt her days before the election. She fit in perfectly with our lifestyle — she walks like a dream, she burrows and naps like a champ, and she’s more quite and calm than I’ve ever seen a Chihuahua be. In fact, her nickname is Pita the “chillhuahua.” Things were looking up…

And then the election results started coming in. Ugh. You don’t need the nightmarish recap from me, you all lived (and continue to live) it. But as my anxiety took ahold of my brain, leaving me numb and frightened, she was such a calming presence.

The timing couldn’t have been better

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The rugs, doors, and dogs of Ouarzazate

If you’ve been following me on Snapchat, you’ve already seen all that I’ve discovered on my walks around the small town of Ouarzazate. My feed is basically rugs, doors, and stray animals…

Doors

Photo by Rockmond Dunbar, aka. C-Note in Prison Break

I published a roundup of all the amazing doors and windows I’ve been discovering in Morocco, over on Offbeat Home. Go check it out if you want to see the pretty. My favorite photo in that post is this one of Mike and me. It was taken by Rockmond Dunbar, aka. “C-Note” on Prison Break. He also took this amazing photo of us as well…

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And then there were two: Returning to the original cast

My ex-husband took Peezu, shattering my heart into a million pieces that are all piercing my innards with every breath I take.

Documenting my last moments of Peezu cuddles.

The other morning was the first morning that I awoke and didn’t have to rush out of bed to walk a dog. While it was nice to be able to wake up naturally and linger in bed for a while, it also felt so strange. I naturally felt anxiety about taking Peezu out, even though I knew she wasn’t even there for me to feel anxious about. I wonder how long this feeling of needing to care for a beast who isn’t even there will linger, like a phantom limb.

I do really miss the old animal gang. I miss having a crazy home full of wild beasts, I miss caring for them, and I even miss their stupid barks sometimes… only sometimes.

When I come home now I still expect to hear the pitter patter of little Peezu claws, as she wiggles excitedly down the hall towards me. I often brace myself to hear Jackson’s loud guard bark when my neighbor opens his creaky security gate.

the woogs and me

But the reality is that my old family is gone — the husband and two dogs — and now it’s just me and my cat. I call us “the original cast,” because before there was ever a husband or a dog, there was The Woogs and me.

I will now admit something that I feel guilty about… (lean in while I whisper it in your ear…)

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Our dog is going blind: The good, the bad, the questionable parenting

You can see the cloudy in his eye in this pic.

You can see the cloudy in his eye in this pic.

Jackson’s eyes went from looking a little weird when the light hit them just so. To bad: “Oh hey, yeah, his eyes are looking kind of cloudy… I should probably Google that some time.” To worse: Just about everyone noticed his eyes looking strange and cloudy at the Shark Attackiversary. Just two months ago, in August, we had a party with just about the same cast of characters and no one noticed anything off about Jackson, two months later, it’s being brought up constantly.

They got that bad, that fast, and we were both REALLY worried.

They day after the party, Jacksons cloudiest eye was also red and irritated, so Aaron took him to the vet the next day. (Yes, just Aaron.)

Wanna hear the good news/bad news/good news, with some questionable parenting thrown in for good measure?

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Why I’m never taking my dogs to the vet again

He's wearing this muzzle because I can't control MY behavior.

He’s wearing this muzzle because I can’t control MY behavior.

There’s no better testament to how much owners influence the behavior of their dogs than the vastly different experiences Aaron and I have taking Jackson to the vet.

Aaron is the default parent (yes, I’m using the term “parent” because “owner” sounds so sterile) to take the dogs to the vet during emergency situations because I am NOT good with blood and panic-y situations.

But I started taking the dogs to the vet for non-emergency purposes because I’m the parent who works at home. In theory, it’s easier for me to be the vet person.

Now, Aaron always reported perfect behavior from Jackson during his vet visits. But the last few times I took Jackson, he’d get panic-y in the waiting room, cowered from vet employees, and bared his teeth at our usual vet!

WTF, Aaron, you liar!? Our baby is a god damn monster. And he really hates our vet. I have no idea why — she’s a totally sweet lady who always speaks gently to him and treats him well. And he’s NEVER been one to hate people. Other dogs while on a walk, yes. But people? No. (Well, except for that one crazy guy once… thank gawd.)

So this time, when Jackson’s weird neck wounds from two months ago refused to heal up completely and seemed to get worse, I begged Aaron to resume his role as “the vet person.” Jackson behavior and my anxiety was making the visits way to stressful for me. And I suspected that my anxiety may even be triggering Jackson’s mood.

Aaron obliged, and took off work to be a good parent. I wished him luck today as he left the house, even suggested he take the muzzle that had come in handy last time.

Guess what…

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Buying a car, burying a dog, and vacation-induced PTSD

I’m so ready for this week to be over. These last three weeks have been incredibly stressful and emotionally draining for me.

My last moment with Julius after eight years together.

My last moment with Julius after eight years together.

First, my week of intense car shopping…

I spent five whole days car shopping with my dad. Almost non-stop. I enjoyed the part where I got to spend all that time with my dad, and learn a WHOLE lot about the car buying process. I didn’t, however, enjoy the process of car shopping. I also didn’t enjoy the panic attacks in the middle of a Honda showroom, and the Mazda showroom. And the amount of crying in public I did when I finally sold Julius, my Mini Cooper that I’ve had for eight years. But at the end, I wound up with the perfect car. I totally thought I was going to get a used small SUV that I felt kind of “meh” about. But ended up with a brand new Subaru that I’m over-the-moon for.

photo

I seriously love my new car. She’s perfect for me in every way: My favorite color, can fit my entire family, and with such a smoother ride. It’s basically like Julius on steroids! It was also going to be so much more comfortable riding experience for my aging family dog, Ayla. I that was going to be the happy ending to a looong week of stress.

But the very next day, Ayla died after thirteen years of love and laughter. This completely devastated me for two reasons: I miss her so much, and I had to watch Elsa, my loooongtime housekeeper, grieve harder than anyone.

That started my week of intense sadness…

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Thanks for 13 silly, stinky, happy years, Ayla

323677733_39e4eb5737_zAyla, my family dog, died at 2:30pm on July 20th, at 13-years-old. She spent the last four years of her life living with our longtime housekeeper, Elsa — aka. Ayla’s favorite person on Earth. Elsa was by her side for her last breaths, just as I hoped she’d be, just as Ayla deserved.

The day Ayla died (after crumbling into a sobbing mess, screaming “no!” while Aaron held me) I rushed over to Elsa’s home. I spent hours sitting with Elsa and her nieces and nephews — alternating between tears and laughter — as the WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD came by to say their goodbyes to Ayla…

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Boston terrier floral arrangement

The Best Week Ever blog posted these photos of floral arrangements shaped like dogs. And it reminded me that I never blogged about the most amazing floral arrangement I’ve ever seen! These dogs are cute and all, but our housekeeper of 15+ years did it first:

And this is Ayla, the dog she modeled her arrangement after:

ayla on the bench

Elsa completely surprised us all. We had no idea she could do that! Even better, the reason she made that floral arrangement was because she was so happy that she was officially adopting Ayla from us. Ayla had always lived in our family home, but about a year into owning her it became clear that she was really Elsa’s dog.

The best Valentine’s Day I ever had

I was even feeling the doggy love on V-day.

I was even feeling the doggy love on V-day.

I don’t “do” Valentine’s Day. Yeah, I’m one of THOSE people. But, as far back as I can remember the day made me all uncomfortable and squidgy. Even when my first boyfriend got all crazy romantic and sent me flowers at school, I just felt really weird about it. Ever since then I’ve asked all boyfriends to just not do anything — just ignore it with me.

And so far Aaron’s been amazing at it. He made me something for our first Valentine’s Day (maybe he wasn’t quite sure if it was a trick or not?) and it was the best thing I’ve ever gotten and it is never to be topped. I will hopefully write a post about that later, when I’m not laying in bed about to go to sleep.

And one other year he bought me silly stupid crap just to make me laugh. He went shopping with his best friend who asked, “aren’t you going to get in trouble for that?” Ha.

But this year, this year was all crazy different…

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