Chopper has always been good with old dogs - especially lady dogs. All the cougars seem to attract him. They will nuzzle his face and he will sniff them so gently and never do his puppy pounce nonsense. He's always a gentleman.
Well there is this guy in our neighborhood who has a basset hound and an older American lab - Molly. Chopper has known the lab since he was a puppy - she's a few years older than him but the basset hound has not been around as long. This guy always says hi to Chopper - calls his name from across the street and Chopper seems to not mind him too much. ( On a side note - I have no idea what his name is or most other people's in my neighborhood but I know their dogs' names and they all know Chopper's name - I am sure I am known as "Chopper's Mom.") Chopper is not a fan of the basset hound - when it first came he barked at it twice and now this guy reminds me every time we see him that "oh Chopper doesn't like him." To Chopper's credit he just walks past this dog - he doesn't bark or growl - he just doesn't acknowledge that it is there.
The other day we saw the guy and the basset hound coming our way but no Molly. I was starting to get worried as Molly has been limping a lot lately and looks tired. As we get close to them - here comes Molly around the corner half a block away. I have definite opinions about basically ignoring your poor old dog on your walk but I kept them to myself. We said "hello" and then proceed to go see Molly who by now was taking another rest in someone's front lawn. When Chopper got to her he sniffed and did other things I can only imagine mean "hello." Poor Molly just kept sitting there with her person half a block away. Chopper appeared rather offended by this set up and took up a post next to Molly and proceed to stare at her human for some time as if to say "come get your dog." The guy laughed at Chopper and then eventually kept walking with his other dog and I got Chopper to leave Molly - who proceeded to follow her human half a block behind but he kept looking back at Molly.
It's nice to know that Chopper can be a gentleman at times.
Showing posts with label Chopper Tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chopper Tales. Show all posts
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Friday, December 9, 2011
Chopper Christmas
Every year I have a Chopper Christmas. During the weekend before I fly across country to be with my family there is a special day just for Chopper. He opens gifts, I let him eat people food for breakfast and we go on an outing or a long walk. The first year I had Chopper though I flew him across country with me. This is a story of that Christmas.
Almost immediately after I adopted him in March I began to research how to get him to Pennsylvania for Christmas. I learned about the acceptable crates that could fly (not the one we had already bought), the paperwork needed (lots) and cost. (At the time it was $100 to fly him each way. The new crate was another $100. The cost for the flight has gone up a lot since then.)
One of my big concerns was weight. Chopper was a 9 month old 43 pound puppy when I adopted him but he kept growing. And growing. And growing. Despite the assurance of the vet that he would "just fill out a little." The airline we were flying had a 100 pound weight limit at that time BUT that included the dog and the crate. Chopper was weighing in at over sixty pounds back then. I was buying his crate online and trying to figure out how much they weighed. There was not a lot of information on all the crates available. Finally I found one that said it was 30 pounds. That left me not a lot of wiggle room for Chopper to keep growing. I cut back treats to keep in at under the weight limit. (He is now somewhere between 70 and 78 pounds so if the weight limit was still in place we would be in trouble.)
Next there was the hassle of getting the actual flight. The crate had to be big enough for him to stand up and turn around in so we ended up with a pretty big crate which therefore did not fit in the loading door to all planes. My parents live closest to the airport in Harrisburg, PA. But none of the planes that flew in had big enough doors. Not to mention there were no direct flights there from LAX. So Chopper and I had to take two flights to get to Philadelphia where my parents picked us up. Sheesh.
Then there was weather to worry about. If it was below some temperature on the ground or predicted to be where he was flying to he couldn't go. TH is meant having a deposit for Christmas at somewhere he could be boarded just in case the temperature got too low and stressing out the whole week before about whether or not he would make it on the flight. And the the added stress that once I got him to Pennsylvania would I get him back?
I enlisted a friend to drive us to the airport in LA in my SUV that would fit the crate, Chopper and my luggage and the cart. The cart is this awful thing at my office that has a pop up handle that I borrowed because I wasn't sure the crate would fit on the carts at the airport. After all that Chopper had to ride in the crate in the car, which he was not happy about. This did not bode well for the airplane ride. In the twenty minutes it took to get to the airport Chopper cried and ripped to shreds the airplane piddle pad that was in his crate. He then refused to go potty once we were at the airport. Meanwhile my friend was hungover and texting her boyfriend every three seconds. I took the cart and the crate with the dog in it and she took my luggage. The elevator in the parking lot however only fit me and the cart. I got us in and when it was time to get out we got stuck. I couldn't turn the cart in there. When I did turn the cart the crate tipped over and got stuck between the wall of the elevator and the cart. Chopper gave me a look from inside that crate right then that said "What are you doing to me?" I pulled it together and got him back on the cart and after riding up and down only one extra time than was necessary got the darn thing rolled out.
Now all we had to do was check in.
The lines at LAX at Christmas time are awful. Doesn't matter the day or time. This happened to be a weekend so even worse. There was no special line for large or unusual objects (which dogs and crates fall into) so I was directed to wait in the regular line and have my friend wait with the cart on the side. When it was finally my turn and the dog came rolling up next to me the airline employee was not too happy with us. She tried to pawn me off on someone else but I told her this is where I was told to go (I was not going to get in another line). So we had to lift the crate and dog on to the scale (he passed) then put more stickers on the crate (even though I had pre-purchased all required stickers ahead of time) that said "Live Animal" all over them then fill out more paperwork (because the dog did not have a reservation it is first come first served so you have to be early but not too early or they won't take the dog). After all that we headed to TSA.
Now for as unfriendly as the airline lady was the TSA guys were super friendly. They had me take Chopper out (we tried one more time to make him go potty) and they checked inside the crate. And then we put him back in. At this point Chopper had had a tranquilizer but he was still on complete alert barking at things and whining in the crate. One of the rules with the crate is that you have to tie it with cable ties so the dog does not escape. I had ties but the TSA guys assured me they would take care of it. So they rolled Chopper away. He screamed the whole way.
The next time I saw Chopper was at the layover with the crate coming out of the plane. I never saw the crate go on the other plane so I was a little nervous if he would be in Philly with me when I got there.
I had instructed my parents to bring scissors so we could cut the ties off and free Chopper upon his arrival in Philly. After asking numerous people where the large items/dogs come from we were instructed to wait at an elevator. Not to get in the elevator - just to wait at it and the "items" would come. After awhile the elevator doors opened and there were three crates (and no person) inside. Two were tiny little puppies with big curly ribbons on top - no doubt someone's Christmas gifts and then there was screaming, whining Chopper in his giant crate. Without any ties. Luckily for me Chopper is more apt to stay in a crate when he doesn't know someone then try and flee. The piddle pad (that had replaced the one he had chewed) was in perfect condition. I took him out to go potty and nothing. See the airports were all surrounded by sidewalk. No trees, no bushes, no grass, no dirt. Chopper doesn't potty on sidewalk.
Then we disassembled the crate and loaded everyone in the car. I was worried about the two hour drive back coupled with the long plane rides without peeing. At the last minute I saw some pine trees and dirt and ran him over and he relieved himself.
Christmas was great. He got lots of presents. He boarded at the vet's for the night when we went to NYC. Then we had to leave again.
The experience at the Philadelphia airport was the exact opposite. The airline lady was super nice (he didn't' get weighed) and she wasn't annoyed about the paperwork or anything. The TSA guy was another story. He made me take Chopper out of his crate. Ok. Then he told me to "make him jump up." This dog had just had a tranquilizer and now knew what was coming so he wasn't in the best mood. "Jump up?" I asked. "Yes I need to see his stomach." I guess in case Chopper was trying to smuggle something back to California. "Can I lift him up?" "That's fine." He looked at his belly. I guess he passed that test. Then he inspected the crate - he didn't' comment on the prime rib bone from Christmas dinner my mother insisted he needed to fly back with. Then we had to put the cable ties on. Turns out that one tie wasn't enough to reach around the crate and the door of the crate so I had to put two together. I tried to get my mother to help me and the TSA guy said she couldn't touch the crate. Sheesh. Again they wheeled him off and he went screaming all the way.
Upon arrival at LAX there was more screaming and crying until he was released from the crate (this time we really did need the scissors). We were both glad to get home that night.
So yes it was a lot of work and super stressful but it was great to have him with me. The down side was that it didn't snow that year in Pennsylvania until after we left and he didn't get to see the snow. For now we are happy having our Chopper Christmases and lending our crate to a friend whose dog has flown back to the East Coast a few times. He keeps chewing through the cable ties and last year bent the gate open and broke his tooth so I think he's staying home this year too.
Almost immediately after I adopted him in March I began to research how to get him to Pennsylvania for Christmas. I learned about the acceptable crates that could fly (not the one we had already bought), the paperwork needed (lots) and cost. (At the time it was $100 to fly him each way. The new crate was another $100. The cost for the flight has gone up a lot since then.)
One of my big concerns was weight. Chopper was a 9 month old 43 pound puppy when I adopted him but he kept growing. And growing. And growing. Despite the assurance of the vet that he would "just fill out a little." The airline we were flying had a 100 pound weight limit at that time BUT that included the dog and the crate. Chopper was weighing in at over sixty pounds back then. I was buying his crate online and trying to figure out how much they weighed. There was not a lot of information on all the crates available. Finally I found one that said it was 30 pounds. That left me not a lot of wiggle room for Chopper to keep growing. I cut back treats to keep in at under the weight limit. (He is now somewhere between 70 and 78 pounds so if the weight limit was still in place we would be in trouble.)
Next there was the hassle of getting the actual flight. The crate had to be big enough for him to stand up and turn around in so we ended up with a pretty big crate which therefore did not fit in the loading door to all planes. My parents live closest to the airport in Harrisburg, PA. But none of the planes that flew in had big enough doors. Not to mention there were no direct flights there from LAX. So Chopper and I had to take two flights to get to Philadelphia where my parents picked us up. Sheesh.
Then there was weather to worry about. If it was below some temperature on the ground or predicted to be where he was flying to he couldn't go. TH is meant having a deposit for Christmas at somewhere he could be boarded just in case the temperature got too low and stressing out the whole week before about whether or not he would make it on the flight. And the the added stress that once I got him to Pennsylvania would I get him back?
I enlisted a friend to drive us to the airport in LA in my SUV that would fit the crate, Chopper and my luggage and the cart. The cart is this awful thing at my office that has a pop up handle that I borrowed because I wasn't sure the crate would fit on the carts at the airport. After all that Chopper had to ride in the crate in the car, which he was not happy about. This did not bode well for the airplane ride. In the twenty minutes it took to get to the airport Chopper cried and ripped to shreds the airplane piddle pad that was in his crate. He then refused to go potty once we were at the airport. Meanwhile my friend was hungover and texting her boyfriend every three seconds. I took the cart and the crate with the dog in it and she took my luggage. The elevator in the parking lot however only fit me and the cart. I got us in and when it was time to get out we got stuck. I couldn't turn the cart in there. When I did turn the cart the crate tipped over and got stuck between the wall of the elevator and the cart. Chopper gave me a look from inside that crate right then that said "What are you doing to me?" I pulled it together and got him back on the cart and after riding up and down only one extra time than was necessary got the darn thing rolled out.
Now all we had to do was check in.
The lines at LAX at Christmas time are awful. Doesn't matter the day or time. This happened to be a weekend so even worse. There was no special line for large or unusual objects (which dogs and crates fall into) so I was directed to wait in the regular line and have my friend wait with the cart on the side. When it was finally my turn and the dog came rolling up next to me the airline employee was not too happy with us. She tried to pawn me off on someone else but I told her this is where I was told to go (I was not going to get in another line). So we had to lift the crate and dog on to the scale (he passed) then put more stickers on the crate (even though I had pre-purchased all required stickers ahead of time) that said "Live Animal" all over them then fill out more paperwork (because the dog did not have a reservation it is first come first served so you have to be early but not too early or they won't take the dog). After all that we headed to TSA.
Now for as unfriendly as the airline lady was the TSA guys were super friendly. They had me take Chopper out (we tried one more time to make him go potty) and they checked inside the crate. And then we put him back in. At this point Chopper had had a tranquilizer but he was still on complete alert barking at things and whining in the crate. One of the rules with the crate is that you have to tie it with cable ties so the dog does not escape. I had ties but the TSA guys assured me they would take care of it. So they rolled Chopper away. He screamed the whole way.
The next time I saw Chopper was at the layover with the crate coming out of the plane. I never saw the crate go on the other plane so I was a little nervous if he would be in Philly with me when I got there.
I had instructed my parents to bring scissors so we could cut the ties off and free Chopper upon his arrival in Philly. After asking numerous people where the large items/dogs come from we were instructed to wait at an elevator. Not to get in the elevator - just to wait at it and the "items" would come. After awhile the elevator doors opened and there were three crates (and no person) inside. Two were tiny little puppies with big curly ribbons on top - no doubt someone's Christmas gifts and then there was screaming, whining Chopper in his giant crate. Without any ties. Luckily for me Chopper is more apt to stay in a crate when he doesn't know someone then try and flee. The piddle pad (that had replaced the one he had chewed) was in perfect condition. I took him out to go potty and nothing. See the airports were all surrounded by sidewalk. No trees, no bushes, no grass, no dirt. Chopper doesn't potty on sidewalk.
Then we disassembled the crate and loaded everyone in the car. I was worried about the two hour drive back coupled with the long plane rides without peeing. At the last minute I saw some pine trees and dirt and ran him over and he relieved himself.
Christmas was great. He got lots of presents. He boarded at the vet's for the night when we went to NYC. Then we had to leave again.
The experience at the Philadelphia airport was the exact opposite. The airline lady was super nice (he didn't' get weighed) and she wasn't annoyed about the paperwork or anything. The TSA guy was another story. He made me take Chopper out of his crate. Ok. Then he told me to "make him jump up." This dog had just had a tranquilizer and now knew what was coming so he wasn't in the best mood. "Jump up?" I asked. "Yes I need to see his stomach." I guess in case Chopper was trying to smuggle something back to California. "Can I lift him up?" "That's fine." He looked at his belly. I guess he passed that test. Then he inspected the crate - he didn't' comment on the prime rib bone from Christmas dinner my mother insisted he needed to fly back with. Then we had to put the cable ties on. Turns out that one tie wasn't enough to reach around the crate and the door of the crate so I had to put two together. I tried to get my mother to help me and the TSA guy said she couldn't touch the crate. Sheesh. Again they wheeled him off and he went screaming all the way.
Upon arrival at LAX there was more screaming and crying until he was released from the crate (this time we really did need the scissors). We were both glad to get home that night.
So yes it was a lot of work and super stressful but it was great to have him with me. The down side was that it didn't snow that year in Pennsylvania until after we left and he didn't get to see the snow. For now we are happy having our Chopper Christmases and lending our crate to a friend whose dog has flown back to the East Coast a few times. He keeps chewing through the cable ties and last year bent the gate open and broke his tooth so I think he's staying home this year too.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Chopper's Halloween
This little corner of Chopper's world seems to have been a little forgotten. Chopper and I are still running around doing our thing - visiting Starbucks, running in Agility League (though Chopper is more of a prancer than a runner), outings to the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica now that the tourists are gone. And a lot of work on my part.
We went to the Zoom Room's Halloween Party as Mickey and Minnie and I forced him into donning the costumes again on Halloween for trick or treaters. We only got one trick or treater this year (which means Chopper got to sample some Skittles and he likes them). But on the positive side Chopper didn't bark at her or her dog that accompanied her to the door.
Chopper, however, was not a fan of all things Halloween this year. Our neighborhood notoriously has some GREAT Halloween decorations. Inflatable spiders, clowns with heads removed, talking lights, ghosts hanging from four story high palm trees. Everyone goes all out. This year one of our favorite houses had a few new decorations however - giant cats.
Chopper and I were on our morning walk and I was admiring the decorations and didn't notice that when we came around the corner there were two giant inflatable cats - with moving heads and glowing eyes - in the driveway of this house. These cats were at least seven feet tall and in the crouching attack position. Chopper immediately started growling and then barking and refused to cross in front of these cats - he was convinced that they were, in fact, giant cats that were obviously going to kill him. After a lot of convincing and more pulling on his leash I got him past the house but he refused to stop staring at the house and growling and even ignored his doggy buddies at the park. So what did I do - well the next day I videotaped it. It's pretty hilarious (though not as great as that first day). By the fourth time we passed the house that week he was not at all affected by the those cats and this week when a giant inflatable football player appeared he gave it a quick inspection and decided it meant no harm and moved on. Another learning/conditioning experience for the old guy.
Now we are getting ready for Christmas (work obligations means that we have for the time being at least had to "cancel" Thanksgiving at our house - although I managed to pick up some special Thanksgiving Dinner canned wet food for my favorite guy). Chopper's been on his best behavior recently - I think he's trying to get on Santa's "nice" list (as opposed to the "naughty" list).
Also one of our favorite holidays has come and gone - Halloween. In the spirit of keeping up Chopper's end of his adoption bargain he willingly subjected himself to yet another costume. I think he wouldn't have agreed if he had known I would make him wear costumes that matched me.
We went to the Zoom Room's Halloween Party as Mickey and Minnie and I forced him into donning the costumes again on Halloween for trick or treaters. We only got one trick or treater this year (which means Chopper got to sample some Skittles and he likes them). But on the positive side Chopper didn't bark at her or her dog that accompanied her to the door.
Chopper, however, was not a fan of all things Halloween this year. Our neighborhood notoriously has some GREAT Halloween decorations. Inflatable spiders, clowns with heads removed, talking lights, ghosts hanging from four story high palm trees. Everyone goes all out. This year one of our favorite houses had a few new decorations however - giant cats.
Chopper and I were on our morning walk and I was admiring the decorations and didn't notice that when we came around the corner there were two giant inflatable cats - with moving heads and glowing eyes - in the driveway of this house. These cats were at least seven feet tall and in the crouching attack position. Chopper immediately started growling and then barking and refused to cross in front of these cats - he was convinced that they were, in fact, giant cats that were obviously going to kill him. After a lot of convincing and more pulling on his leash I got him past the house but he refused to stop staring at the house and growling and even ignored his doggy buddies at the park. So what did I do - well the next day I videotaped it. It's pretty hilarious (though not as great as that first day). By the fourth time we passed the house that week he was not at all affected by the those cats and this week when a giant inflatable football player appeared he gave it a quick inspection and decided it meant no harm and moved on. Another learning/conditioning experience for the old guy.
Now we are getting ready for Christmas (work obligations means that we have for the time being at least had to "cancel" Thanksgiving at our house - although I managed to pick up some special Thanksgiving Dinner canned wet food for my favorite guy). Chopper's been on his best behavior recently - I think he's trying to get on Santa's "nice" list (as opposed to the "naughty" list).
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Locked Out
Chopper has had his share of accidents and trips to the vets for ridiculous things but in hindsight the most hilarious thing that dog has ever done is lock me out of my own house.
I had not had Chopper very long at this point and a few friends from work were coming over to hang out - they had gone to pick up food and I had driven home to take Chopper out for his walk. I got to the front door and as usual Chopper came running to the front door to greet me (I could see him through the window). But when I tried to open the door it wouldn't quite open. I told Chopper to move as I thought he was blocking the door. But that didn't work. A few more shoves and odd looks from Chopper and I figured out what had happened. For some reason my door had three locks when I moved in - a deadbolt, a chain and one of those flippy kind that they have in hotels. Chopper had jumped up at some point during the day and flipped the flippy one over just enough that it was keeping me from getting the door open. After a few minutes Chopper stopped waiting for me to come in and went back to his bone (thanks buddy).
Now how to get in. By this time my friends had arrived and we came up with a plan. The windows in the front weren't open enough and the ones in the kitchen would require a ladder but the bathroom window in the back facing the parking lot was open - now it was high but we backed my Blazer up to the window and lowered my friend through the window. It wasn't quite that easy as the window had a screen we had to push out and the window sill was full of shampoo bottles and what not. Needless to say this all made a bit of a racket (not that my neighbors noticed) when it came crashing down into the bathtub and by the time my friend got inside poor Chopper was quite upset.
The first thing I did when I got inside was get a screwdriver and take the lock off the door. I'm not sure Chopper would ever be able to stay in a hotel (ones that would allow it) as he could possibly get himself trapped inside.
I had not had Chopper very long at this point and a few friends from work were coming over to hang out - they had gone to pick up food and I had driven home to take Chopper out for his walk. I got to the front door and as usual Chopper came running to the front door to greet me (I could see him through the window). But when I tried to open the door it wouldn't quite open. I told Chopper to move as I thought he was blocking the door. But that didn't work. A few more shoves and odd looks from Chopper and I figured out what had happened. For some reason my door had three locks when I moved in - a deadbolt, a chain and one of those flippy kind that they have in hotels. Chopper had jumped up at some point during the day and flipped the flippy one over just enough that it was keeping me from getting the door open. After a few minutes Chopper stopped waiting for me to come in and went back to his bone (thanks buddy).
Now how to get in. By this time my friends had arrived and we came up with a plan. The windows in the front weren't open enough and the ones in the kitchen would require a ladder but the bathroom window in the back facing the parking lot was open - now it was high but we backed my Blazer up to the window and lowered my friend through the window. It wasn't quite that easy as the window had a screen we had to push out and the window sill was full of shampoo bottles and what not. Needless to say this all made a bit of a racket (not that my neighbors noticed) when it came crashing down into the bathtub and by the time my friend got inside poor Chopper was quite upset.
The first thing I did when I got inside was get a screwdriver and take the lock off the door. I'm not sure Chopper would ever be able to stay in a hotel (ones that would allow it) as he could possibly get himself trapped inside.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Vet Visit
Last night was probably one of our most uneventful vet visits in some time - no blood, no fungus, no urine test, no blood test - just your run of the mill annual check up and one vaccine. Chopper even behaved better during his examination.
The vet visit started with the weigh-in though and someone is now a whopping 78 lbs. He's supposed to be 70 lbs. Last year he was 72 lbs - although he had dropped some weight after that. I told the vet how much he walks (at least 40 minutes a day), that he has other activities (the beach, agility, etc.) and the amount of food he eats (1/2 cup dry in the morning and 1/2 can of wet food and 1/2 dry in the evening) and, as usual, they said "that's all." Also I don't think Chopper gets a ton of treats - what may be the problem though is his after dinner routine.
Before you feed Chopper in the evening he is content to lay down, get his neck scratched or bark at a neighbor. Once he eats though he realizes that he is STARVING. He starts going to the treat jars and begging, opening drawers underneath the treat jars (it's a file drawer), crying, poking the furniture, taking his puzzles off the shelf, scratching at the bathroom door (there's no food in there), searching all his treat toys for one tiny piece of food until I get so annoyed that I give him a piece of chicken. Then the process starts all over again and I give him a tiny rawhide with a piece of chicken on it. This can go on for some time until he throws himself on the floor and goes to sleep.
Well, Mr. Chopper, I think your after dinner snack days are numbered.
The vet visit started with the weigh-in though and someone is now a whopping 78 lbs. He's supposed to be 70 lbs. Last year he was 72 lbs - although he had dropped some weight after that. I told the vet how much he walks (at least 40 minutes a day), that he has other activities (the beach, agility, etc.) and the amount of food he eats (1/2 cup dry in the morning and 1/2 can of wet food and 1/2 dry in the evening) and, as usual, they said "that's all." Also I don't think Chopper gets a ton of treats - what may be the problem though is his after dinner routine.
Before you feed Chopper in the evening he is content to lay down, get his neck scratched or bark at a neighbor. Once he eats though he realizes that he is STARVING. He starts going to the treat jars and begging, opening drawers underneath the treat jars (it's a file drawer), crying, poking the furniture, taking his puzzles off the shelf, scratching at the bathroom door (there's no food in there), searching all his treat toys for one tiny piece of food until I get so annoyed that I give him a piece of chicken. Then the process starts all over again and I give him a tiny rawhide with a piece of chicken on it. This can go on for some time until he throws himself on the floor and goes to sleep.
Well, Mr. Chopper, I think your after dinner snack days are numbered.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Do Your Ears Hang Low?
Today as I was getting ready for work I saw a piece about a black and tan coonhound on Good Morning America. They were talking about a coonhound in Colorado who was the Guinness Book World Record Title holder for the longest ears on a living dog.
His left ear is 12.25 inches and his right ear is 13.5 inches long. For fun I measured - well tried to measure - one of Chopper's ears this morning. I couldn't get an exact measurement because he was very wiggly and kept trying to eat the tape measure but his right ear appears to be just over five inches.
Chopper's ears are the source for quite a bit of amusement and giggles. Just this weekend Chopper was in the bedroom while a friend was visiting and he must have fallen asleep right in front of the door and one of those ears was sticking out under the door - I guess he didn't want to miss out on the conversation.
Chopper's ears have also been the cause for numerous trips to the vet. Just last year he had an ear infection in one ear that required several trips to the vet. The reason it was several and not one is that Chopper was not a very good patient when it came to getting ear drops - he would wiggle away, he would bark, he hide his head and any other antic that would cause the drops to not get in his ear. Finally I was reduced to putting the drops in while he was relieving himself outside. Inevitably if you did get the drops in the ear there would be a giant shake of the head and the drops would come flying out all over you. After a few visits the vet gave us a pill.
One of Chopper's most infamous ear incidents was several years ago and involved a lot of clean up and a lot of MacGyvering on my part. We had just returned from our walk and he was barking at something on the porch. I hustled him inside to get him to be quiet and all of sudden there were blood drops on the floor. I checked his feet for any scrapes but this was quickly ruled out as Chopper is very sensitive about his feet (he will stop and lift his foot and refuse to walk if he has anything foreign on his foot) so it seemed unlikely that he would not have thrown himself on the floor in screaming agony if his foot was bleeding. After a quick body check I found the culprit - his ear.
He had somehow cut a tiny little nick in his right ear. I applied pressure and figured that would stop the bleeding and we would be on our way. Every time I took the towel off he would give his head a big vigorous shake and the bleeding would start again. Not only that but the head shake and bleeding ear resulted in blood splatter all over everything. EVERYTHING. Tiny drops of coonhound blood were on the kitchen table, the walls, the closet door, the hardwood floors.
I tried wrapping the tip of his ear in multiple layers of band-aids and gauze. He would shake it off. I tried that blood clotting dog first aid stuff. He would shake it off. After a few hours of the tiny drop bleeding I decided that we needed to go to the vet. I wasn't sure if I couldn't get it to stop if he could lose a lot of blood or if he required stitches or not.
Once at the vet they sedated him and got a look at the ear. Turns out the ear had scabbed up by this time and the vet said she couldn't even get it to start bleeding again. She also said no stitches were required. I got a drowsy dog and a bill. Of course as soon as the drugs wore off he started shaking his head and the bleeding started again. I was able to get it to stop this time and the vet assured me that stitches were not necessary. After that we were able to keep it from opening up again but Chopper had a little nick in his ear for some time (one day I looked and it has just disappeared).
Clean up continued for a few weeks. You would all of a sudden see tiny drops of blood on the wall where you thought you had cleaned it up already. I'm sure if you brought in one of those black light blood finder things you see on television that you would still be able to see the spots all over the walls.
A few months later I was at a doggy first aid presentation and thought I would stump the person and asked how she would have kept the ear from bleeding. She thought a moment and said to fold the ear over on top of his head and tie it up with a gauze around his head. Where was she during the blood spattering? Now I know for next time.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Off With Her Feathers
A few months ago I attended an agility competition. A friend was interested in getting her dog involved in competitions so we drove out to a field in the middle of nowhere with no seating and very little shade and lots of dirt to see the dogs run the course. Meanwhile there were some stands set up selling agility related goods to the participants and spectators (it seemed to just be us). My friend decided to get her dog some real rabbit fur toy like the dogs at the competition had. I assured her Chopper was not interested in toys anymore and didn't need one. She got him one anyway (although she said shew as getting her dog two toys). When she brought him one he went NUTS for that toy. Apparently the hunter in him was awakened by whatever smell only he could smell and he shook that thing around for dear life. (In my defense he sees real rabbits all the time on our walks and shows them no interest so how was I supposed to know a little rabbit fur on some felt would get him all riled up.)
Fast forward a few weeks later and I decided to buy a Marie Antoinette doll from The Doll Farm on Etsy. I had seen one of these dolls at a tea shop in San Francisco during several trips home and had been trying to justify the purchase since I am neither a particular Marie Antoinette fan or a doll collector. But she was funky and unexpected and I wanted her.
Fast forward a few weeks later and I decided to buy a Marie Antoinette doll from The Doll Farm on Etsy. I had seen one of these dolls at a tea shop in San Francisco during several trips home and had been trying to justify the purchase since I am neither a particular Marie Antoinette fan or a doll collector. But she was funky and unexpected and I wanted her.
This picture doesn't really do the doll justice. She stands about two feet tall and is all handmade. Something I didn't know, however, was that her feathers were all natural. The doll was shipped to my office where she stayed for a few days but I really wanted her at home. My boss was admiring her one day and said "Oh Chopper is going to go after those feathers." I assured her he would not that he doesn't really play with toys anymore (sound familiar?). So I brought her home and while Chopper seemed mildly interested in her as I carried her inside he didn't seem overly interested (it was more the way he smells a Target bag full of shampoo then a bag from the pet store full of treats type of interest). So I placed her on my bed and walked out of the room.
No sooner had I sat down in the living room then I heard the tell tall jingle of Chopper's multiple tags. "What are you doing?" The only response was more jingles. I ran in to the room to find Chopper on top of poor Marie Antoinette and red feathers everywhere. It looked like some red bird had been killed on my bed.
Upon inspection I realized that Marie was quite all right but her feathers were a different story. He seemed to have pulled them out and then tried to kill them.
I emailed the seller and asked if I could purchase more feathers. That's when I was informed that the feathers were natural and she does not attach them permanently because of this sort of thing (how often are dogs trying to kill Marie's fascinator?) and because they fade after some time. It took a few weeks of her searching but eventually she was able to locate the exact same plume for Marie and it arrived safely. I think Chopper was even more grateful than me that Marie was restored to her former beauty - he likes sleeping inside at night.
Two valuable lessons were learned from this entire shenanigan: 1) Chopper does still like toys but only if they contain some part of something that used to be alive; and 2) Chopper was not a French revolutionary in a former life as Marie's head was still intact at the end of the day.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Waterfront Property
A few nights ago I was getting ready to take Chopper out for his last bathroom break when I heard some rushing water. My building has had problems with pipes before but this sounded like a lot of water. I hooked Chopper up to his leash and went outside to find that we had a river running in front of our building. A pipe had burst in the community garden out front and we live on a hill so the water was literally rushing down the hill.
Chopper was not at all upset by this turn of events. He seemed to want to get in the water (it was after midnight so I was not obliging) and not come back in the house. Later (after the firemen had left but before the Department of Water and Power got there) he scratched at the door to go out again. I took him out thinking he wasn't feeling well but he just wanted to see the water. Sheesh.
Now Chopper has always loved the beach and I have joked on occasion that he needs to find a richer mommy to buy him a beach house in Malibu or Santa Monica. Apparently we just needed a pipe to burst to make his dreams come true. Sadly (for Chopper) the pipe was fixed and the river disappeared.
Chopper was not at all upset by this turn of events. He seemed to want to get in the water (it was after midnight so I was not obliging) and not come back in the house. Later (after the firemen had left but before the Department of Water and Power got there) he scratched at the door to go out again. I took him out thinking he wasn't feeling well but he just wanted to see the water. Sheesh.
Now Chopper has always loved the beach and I have joked on occasion that he needs to find a richer mommy to buy him a beach house in Malibu or Santa Monica. Apparently we just needed a pipe to burst to make his dreams come true. Sadly (for Chopper) the pipe was fixed and the river disappeared.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
A True Tale of (Un)Ticks
Chopper is the first dog I have ever had as an adult. We had a family dog when I was very young but I was certainly not responsible for him in any way. From what I remember the dog was pretty easygoing - he would get mad when he didn't get hair bows at the groomers and stole toys from my grandmother's dog - but other than that I don't remember much. I certainly don't remember having to worry about ticks - maybe there are no ticks in San Francisco.
Anyway Chopper almost immediately made me worry on a daily basis. The first few days I had him he threw up twice. The first time in the car ride home and the second time at 2 a.m. on my birthday. At that time I was still queasy at the thought of dog throw up and had to fall asleep on the couch with a cold compress on my forehead and Chopper next to me to get over it. At this point I can have doggy throw up cleaned up in five seconds flat - ten if its on a rug.
Then we went for a hike one day and he ended up slamming himself into a rock - I thought he must have had internal organ damage. He was fine. Then one night I was petting him and I pulled something off him. It was a tick - granted I had never seen a tick and was not aware that's what it was when I was pulling it off or I would have had a heart attack. We survived - that time.
A few weeks later I was again petting Chopper and noticed a tick in his belly. I tried pulling it like I had the first time but nothing happened. Then I saw another one. And another one. His whole belly was full of ticks. I kept trying to pull them off and they stayed on. I was by now hysterical so I called my friend Carrie who immediately came over to see about Chopper's tick-infested belly. She lives a half hour away so I made myself a margarita to calm my nerves (really it was a shot of tequila in some limeade -that's what I had).
Carrie is from Georgia and had seen ticks before - on her pets, on her brother and in the woods - so I trusted she would be able to solve this issue. We flipped him over and she couldn't get the ticks out either. She lit a match and blew it out and put it near his belly and they didn't come out - we tried this a lot. By now Chopper's patience had worn thin and he was not having any more poking or prodding or flames coming near him (to this day he doesn't like flames - we had to stop putting candles on his birthday cake as he would run away from it). I decided I would take him the groomers in the morning to deal with it and went to bed.
Early the next morning I dragged Chopper down to the groomer. Chopper was on to us though and wasn't letting that guy near him either. He didn't' think he saw any ticks but couldn't be sure.
So a few hours later I took him to the vet. This was our fourth visit in probably two months. The vet looked at Chopper for about five seconds gave him a treat and said to me: "Those aren't ticks those are his nipples." What!?!?! "You know male dogs have nipples just like male people - they aren't used for anything but they are just there. See how they are in a pattern and the same on each side?" Well then I did but the night before they had not resembled any sort of pattern (even before the shot of tequila) they had just looked like ticks on my puppy. I guess you learn something new every day.
Chopper's been tick-free ever since but once in awhile he will give me a dirty look when I'm rubbing his belly.
Anyway Chopper almost immediately made me worry on a daily basis. The first few days I had him he threw up twice. The first time in the car ride home and the second time at 2 a.m. on my birthday. At that time I was still queasy at the thought of dog throw up and had to fall asleep on the couch with a cold compress on my forehead and Chopper next to me to get over it. At this point I can have doggy throw up cleaned up in five seconds flat - ten if its on a rug.
Then we went for a hike one day and he ended up slamming himself into a rock - I thought he must have had internal organ damage. He was fine. Then one night I was petting him and I pulled something off him. It was a tick - granted I had never seen a tick and was not aware that's what it was when I was pulling it off or I would have had a heart attack. We survived - that time.
A few weeks later I was again petting Chopper and noticed a tick in his belly. I tried pulling it like I had the first time but nothing happened. Then I saw another one. And another one. His whole belly was full of ticks. I kept trying to pull them off and they stayed on. I was by now hysterical so I called my friend Carrie who immediately came over to see about Chopper's tick-infested belly. She lives a half hour away so I made myself a margarita to calm my nerves (really it was a shot of tequila in some limeade -that's what I had).
Carrie is from Georgia and had seen ticks before - on her pets, on her brother and in the woods - so I trusted she would be able to solve this issue. We flipped him over and she couldn't get the ticks out either. She lit a match and blew it out and put it near his belly and they didn't come out - we tried this a lot. By now Chopper's patience had worn thin and he was not having any more poking or prodding or flames coming near him (to this day he doesn't like flames - we had to stop putting candles on his birthday cake as he would run away from it). I decided I would take him the groomers in the morning to deal with it and went to bed.
Early the next morning I dragged Chopper down to the groomer. Chopper was on to us though and wasn't letting that guy near him either. He didn't' think he saw any ticks but couldn't be sure.
So a few hours later I took him to the vet. This was our fourth visit in probably two months. The vet looked at Chopper for about five seconds gave him a treat and said to me: "Those aren't ticks those are his nipples." What!?!?! "You know male dogs have nipples just like male people - they aren't used for anything but they are just there. See how they are in a pattern and the same on each side?" Well then I did but the night before they had not resembled any sort of pattern (even before the shot of tequila) they had just looked like ticks on my puppy. I guess you learn something new every day.
Chopper's been tick-free ever since but once in awhile he will give me a dirty look when I'm rubbing his belly.
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