Puppy Hiccups

I've read a lot about the magic of puppy breath, but why does no one mention the hiccups? Is there anything more adorable than the little "hic" with a slight bop of the ears and a mildly bewildered look in the eyes (where did that noise come from?) only to repeat a few times over. According to our vet they will go the way of her baby teeth and puppy breath, but for now I can't help but be amused.

I always thought I wouldn't get a puppy until I was retired. Too much work. Who wants to clean up pee all the time? And the chewing. I like my shoes. Turns out, the magical powers that puppies come with (see: hiccups, breath, etc) make you not care. Apparently it just takes a buddah belly and a piglet tail to get away with accidentally pooping in the kitchen. The only thing I would have changed is that house training in the summer would have been so much better. The only time I've almost lost my temper at Rue is her repeated need for potty breaks, grass eating, and stick biting, all during the cold, dark and rain. She clearly did not take after her brother, the prissy boy, who doesn't like to get his feet wet. And I am not amused with a frantic whining scrabble on the sliding door only to realize it was because she forgot her stick during the potty break 5 minutes prior.

But I digress. I have been pleasantly surprised. The only failures come when we mess up as her people. Rue is a joy and I love watching the dog that she is becoming. I only hope we can live up to the responsibility of being the ones to shape this puppy into the dog she will be for the rest of her life.

Tea for Three

The three refers to the people, rather than the three canines involved. I'm pretty sure any attempt at tea drinking would have resulted in a large surprised snort, and some subsequent sneezing. They did however eye our pho and cookies quite longingly.

So back to tea. Yesterday the pups and I took a trip out to our friend's place to watch the first few episodes of the new season of Downton Abbey. I still hadn't quite forgiven them for last season's finale, but with time I decided that despite the fact that my TV husband was no longer in the show I could manage to carry on. These friends also have a dog, Yuki, who is Malcolm's long time buddy. We have a dog sitting co-op going on and watch each other's dogs when we go out of town. It's nice to have friends that you know are inviting your dogs as well as you when you come over! Plus, she has some similar leash reactivity issues as Malcolm does so it's a bit nice to be able to have someone to vent dog frustrations with - and we look pretty stylish when we walk around with our dogs in tow and treat pouches on our hips.

Rue had been over to Yuki's once before, for a New Year's Eve party. But I'm pretty sure she was just flooded with all the people and dogs (including one very zoomie black lab puppy about her age) and didn't remember any of it. We're still a little bit anxious with her housetraining when we go somewhere else, because we're not entirely sure how well she generalizes, but lucky (?) for us Rue tends to hold it in when she is anxious and we tend to have more issues getting her to go outside when we know she needs to rather than cleaning up accidents. Malcolm on the other hand has been to Yuki's countless times, and the moment he realized I was driving in her direction he started a slow, pathetic whine from the backseat of the car until he was panting exitedly as we pulled into her neighborhood. How do dogs know where they are in a car? Malcolm has the location of every dog park in the city memorized. It still amazes me - and annoys me because he can't keep his excitement to himself!

So we arrived and Rue acted as if the stairs to their door were the sure path to death as Malcolm bounded up them as if his first meal in a month was in the house. Yuki, in her style, barked ferociously at them until she had given them a thorough background check to make sure they hadn't turned to the dark side since she had last seen them. We decided to make it easy on Rue and settle down with some dog cuddles on the couch for the first episode.

Dogs are not allowed on the couch at our house. We used to have a dog-friendly futon couch in our prior house, but for various reasons that doesn't work here. The cats need thair own domain and they make a big enough mess of it as it is, so we don't need dog slobber to add to it. At Yuki's - dogs get to go wherever they want. Malcolm can even sleep on the bed when he stays over if he wants! So Malcolm goes into a cuddle puddle bliss coma on the couch each time we visit. This time was no exception. Rue still seemed pretty anxious, with some yawns and nose licking, but eventually settled into a restless nap. 

Human friend and the 3 canines, pre-intense cuddle puddling

When we realized we needed cookies (who doesn't need cookies?) we wrangled the dogs and treked out for a walk to the store. Rue is usually a bit of a pansy on walks and lags behind and is worried about anything in the outside world, but today she did great and charged ahead with the rest of the leash pullers! Maybe it was being in a pack? She likes this neighborhood better? I suppose I'll never know. After that, when we returned for episode two it was as if she had never been afraid. Happy to hang out with the human friends and tried to wrestle with Malcolm until Yuki the police-nanny put a stop to it.

Also strangely enough, Malcolm, who plays well with Rue but likes his own personal bubble for sleeping at home, was very happy to cuddle on the couch with her at Yuki's. There was a lot of dog spooning, butt pillows and paw draping, and of course a multitude of people swooning.

So that was it for our day of tea and British television! The pups have finally settled in for their pre-night nap after Rue spent 1.5 hrs of abusing her asking to go out privileges while I attempted to do laundry and eat dinner. Eating grass is definitely a worthy cause to frantically paw and whine at the door, right?

A Christmas Story

My husband got me a puppy for Christmas. 

Or rather. My husband gave me permission to get myself a puppy for Christmas. 

It wasn't that we didn't already have an antidepressant of the fur covered variety. We actually already had three. Although arguably I wouldn't put Koda, the black ninja cat, into the helpful category. He is the only one in the family who has actually been on the blog's namesake drug and has caused too much strife in his people's lives to be considered a net positive benefit, but he has many years left to prove us wrong. I hope. 

Sitka is a pure, content, fat soul who eats when he wants to, sleeps when he would like, and comes and gets attention from you when it suits him. Visibly the antithesis of his skinny, glaring, always plotting evil, cat brother. 

My first true mood enhancing fur child, Malcolm, saved me from myself during the drudgery of medical school clinical rotations and reminded me that there was a world outside of the hospital when I came home from call as an intern. Who knew a rescued mutt from the streets of Yakima could have such powers?

So when 2013 became the year of things that weren't right, and sometimes entirely wrong, I knew what had to be done. The only answer was a puppy. I showed my husband the solution and was reminded I married the right man.

Meet Rue.