crazedparent

Getting her groove back.

Luna Lovegood has been sick for the past week. And when you have a pet who is ill, your reaction is similar to that when your kids are sick. You worry when they mope and sleep all day and night. You grow sad when things that they adore, like stuffed animals and food tidbits dropping on the floor, are of no interest. Your heart aches when you hear them moaning and in pain.  

The cause? Apparently an infection behind the plates in her left hip from this surgery 18 months ago.

On day two of "the woes," as I call them, I found Q. on the floor next two her like this:

And it was pretty much the cutest thing. Ever. But if you look at Luna's reaction, you get a sense for just how sick she was.

Today, nine days and nearly $1000 later, she's 90 percent better. She's happy and playful, but she's still light on her left hind leg. She'll be on meds for the next month and here's the stink of it: if she doesn't fully recover, the vet will have to replace the plate on her left hip. 

In the meantime, the rest of us have been crafty. We've baked. We've played baseball until our arms hurt and our voices can no longer yell, "Hustle! Hustle!" And mostly, we've been waiting for our puppy to get her groove back. Like this:

(365 Day 76, 3.29.09) A two-year-old puppy is like a toddler...

We walk down a quiet street, Luna prancing as she watches her surroundings while I smile at her contagious happiness. Her coat shines so brightly that it's as if the sun rays bounce off of her fur (it's all about the dog food). 

A sudden stop. She begins to move with her bottom close to the ground, almost maniacally. Worms, I think to myself. She has tapeworms, which means I'll be spending the afternoon at the vet. 

She walks a few feet on the pavement and crouches in the way that dogs do when they are ready to poop. Cars drive by as she moves from one spot to another. I stand on the street, mortified that my dog can't find a better, more private place to do her bathroom business. 

She begins to walk in circles and it is then that I notice something is, how to I say this eloquently, hanging from her rear end. Dear sweet Jesus, she has a tapeworm hanging from her ass...and she can't push it out. I curse and talk to myself out loud, acknowledging that I will be the one to have to pull this worm out of her. 

She sits on the floor and barks at me, her eyes pleading, "Do something! Fast!" 

I watch as more cars drive past us and people walk by on the sidewalk, putting a dog poop bag on my hand and making sure my arm is covered as high as the bag will go. 

I pull the dog off of her feet and she runs in circles as long as the leash will allow. Finally, I tug at her collar and bring her to me. As I get closer to the tape worm, I realize I was very wrong in my diagnosis.

The tapeworm is actually Kleenex that has made its way through the dog's intestines after she devoured it in the wee morning hours, probably after munching on the spine of a children's book. It now looks like a long, thin worm.

And still, tissue paper. I am in my neighborhood, on a public street in full view of living room windows and little kids and their moms walking home from the park, pulling tissue paper from my dog's ass.

The task complete, I grab her muzzle and look into her brown eyes. "Stop eating paper, you dumb b*tch."

I hear the words in my head, "Who are you calling b*tch? You're the one with the boys who leave the stupid Kleenex on their beds in the morning. Why don't you make THEM put it in the garbage?"

The dog's rear is clean. The poop bag is full and sealed off. We continue our walk and return home. The boys are going to love this story, I tell myself. I was right; the laughed themselves to tears.

I remember the conversation I had with my husband in the weeks before we decided to get a dog. The discussion where I convinced him that I was ready for the responsibility of owning a puppy.

"You realize you are going to be cleaning up dog poop all the time," he said. At the time, Q. was still in diapers.

"You're joking," I laughed, "I clean up crap all day. Wiping a kid's butt. Scooping up dog poop. Poop is poop."

How wrong I was.

She still eats Kleenex and her love of crayons makes for colorful poop.

But now she's two, and still the cutest, most cuddled puppy we've known.

Happy birthday, Luna Lovegood. 

365 Day 70: Bunny love, Luna Lovegood-style...

Luna Lovegood likes raw carrots, especially fresh ones that arrive in our CSA box. But like any other treat she receives at home, she has to work for it. I usually make her sit, lie down or speak (the latest trick). But today, I picked up a pair of bunny ears and knew I'd need to save the carrots for a little photo session. (You may recall the pink session?)

I usually only give her tiny pieces of carrots (we've already had our fill of puppy medical issues; no need to cause more problems). But for this particular photo, I knew she'd require some serious cajoling. I set an entire carrot on the floor, hoping she'd plant herself down and allow me to get at least a few quick shots.  But she's too quick for me, and I ended up chasing her down to grab the carrot from her. All while the ears loosely dangled from her head. With a final brush of her paw, she tossed them aside, as if to say, "Lady, get this sh*t off of me."

I'm convinced I need to bring out the big guns. Attempt number two awaits.

365 Day 37: Stealing seats (and sleep)...

In the two years since Luna Lovegood joined our family, we've gone through six dog beds trying to find one that she'll find irresistible. When we saw that she loved curling up in the boys' bean bags, we found a dog bed that had a similar filling...so we bought it for her.

She initially showed signs of liking hew new bed. It didn't last long.

365 Day 18: Pretty girl...

As part of dog training, we were told we shouldn't refer to Luna by her name all the time because she'll become unresponsive when we need her to do her job. It makes sense when you compare it to parenting. When your mom and dad use a kid's full name, you know they mean business because it happens so rarely. But when they call a kid by just a first name, it can take a few times before the kid's ears perk up.

All of us have different nicknames for Luna. I call her Pretty Girl because as far as Labrador Retrievers go, she is quite beautiful. But when she sets herself up on the chaise in the sun, perhaps Diva is more appropriate.

A dog's mind games...

If you only knew how hard it is for us to get Luna to rest on her own bed (read: she'd rather be on the couch, on our bed, on the kids' beds, on the kids' bean bags, which oh, look exactly like her bed). The bag is from Orvis, and it's cotton canvas filled with foam beads.

She won't sleep on it when we're around her. But at night, when all the lights are out and she knows she's left on her own in the living room, we can hear her making a nest in her bed thanks to those foam beads.  She loves her bed. She just doesn't want us to know she loves it.

The pink session...

I'm always in awe of the photos Heather Armstrong shoots of her dogs, Chuck and Coco. Sure, they're adorable and hysterically funny. But sweet jesus, do you know how difficult it is to get your dog to allow you to do this? Or this? Or this? And for the love of pete, this? I keep wondering when the Armstrongs will share some of their dog training tips because it's pretty clear they carry the Dog Whisperer gene. 

Dog training can be tedious. It requires a level of consistency that, at times, makes parenting feel like a leisurely stroll around a 10-mile lake. The crate training. The barking. The digging and general pilfering of any toy, stuffed animal or piece of tissue. The "heel" and "stay" and "come" and "holy high hell, stop humping your dog bed."

Luna is a punky little diva. But she works for food. The above Halloween photo required half of her favorite bribe dog training treat, Natural Balance Lamb. And while I can get her to sit still just long enough to snap a string of photos, we still have a long training road ahead of us. She's lucky she's cute. And likes pink.

Even dogs have loveys...

Only Luna's lovey belongs to Q.

As Q. would say to Six, "I'm borrowing it, okay?"

Luna had her one-year check up today and received three vaccines. While the shots aren't supposed to cause any sort of reaction in dogs, she was sleepy and cuddly all day. She carried that little stuffed yellow Lab around with her throughout the house and when she landed with a thud on the dining room floor beside me, she rested her head on it. Sweet pup. Just like a child, I can't imagine our family without her.

Hey there, cowboy...

When dogs blog...

Someone's getting a little jealous of MacBook Pro. And it's not the boys. This was taken from the iSight when Luna jumped on the couch next to me and nudged her way in front of the laptop. Such a goofball.