Wordless Wednesday: Buddy Kisses (and the Reaction)

Wordless Wednesday: Happy 7th Birthday, Buddy

Common Bonds*: Ticks, Harry (But Less), Screwing Up At Work

As to the first, Buddy started acting funny ten days ago. On Friday, he was playing like usual in the yard. On Saturday, he started limping. By Sunday morning, he wouldn't put any weight on his left front paw. By Sunday night, he didn't even get up to play or hang out with us. Monday morning, we called the vet. It wasn't a sprain, like we thought. It was Lyme. Screw you ticks. Poor boy :( He is now on antibiotics for a month. Three pills a day. That have to be taken with food. And can't be taken with cheese. And our dog only eats his dog food when he feels like it. Unless it's sprinkled with cheese. It's been a bit of a challenge. On the positive side, the antibiotics seem to be working. By the end of last week, he was seeming himself again. Though he has no understanding regarding why he isn't allowed to play like usual.

As to the second, Harry has been doing a bit better with nursing, though the biting hasn't stopped completely. I took Nicky's suggestion (made by a few other as well) and tried Tylenol about an hour before bed, and it seems to be helping. The only two nights he has bitten me more than once have been the ones we forgot the Tylenol. And the biting has slowed down in general. Even better, he has gone back to nursing again -- the partial strike is over (though he does seem to nurse for shorter periods now). He struggled with the bottle at daycare last week too, so I'm trying not to take it personally. It does appear to be teething related.

As for screwing things up at work, I'm still feeling stressed about it. Probably fueled by the fact that I'm feeling somewhat anxious about work in general. But the senior associate stepped in front of the bus rather than throwing me under (especially admirable given that he is up for partner this year). So he may think less of me but I seem to have otherwise emerged from the giant fuck-up largely unscathed (though I may just be unaware of the realities of my situation). But it still sucks.

Much to share about the parts of the weekend I didn't spend working, but I'll save that for tomorrow and Wednesday.

* Any other Jeopardy fans out there?

Dog Bites Dog

Late last week, P opened the back door to let Buddy out without checking to be sure there were no other dogs out there. There were two (much bigger) dogs on leash in front of the house, and Buddy left the yard to bark in their faces. P heard the barking and called for Buddy. He came running right away. P went to apologize to the woman walking the dogs and make sure she was okay. She said she was and walked away. She failed to mention that her dogs had bit Buddy several times.

Clearly this was our fault, since even aggressive dogs have to go for walks and our dog should either have been on a leash or should have stayed in our yard (which he usually does when we tell him to, but we don't generally tell him to unless we see an unfamiliar dog coming, which P didn't as he didn't check). But the owner could have said something. As it was, the wounds didn't bleed right away, and he didn't stiffen up for a few hours, so it was a while before we knew something was wrong.

When I took Buddy to the vet, the vet shaved Buddy's shoulder and found what he described as a severe dog bite, along with several superficial ones. The big one was down to the muscle and required three staples to close (and will require general anesthesia and stitches if the staples don't work but we all wanted to avoid the risks of putting him under). He can't run or go for real walks or play until the staples come out next week. And he's on antibiotics and pain killers. Finally, because we don't have the other dogs' rabies vaccination numbers (which we would have gotten had the owner mentioned that they BIT OUR DOG), the vet has to assume the dog was rabid, so Buddy had to get another rabies shot even though he wasn't due for one for two years. He also can't be off-leash or interact with another dog for 45 days.

Our poor boy. He looks so sad. And we can't exactly explain why he can't do stuff. Looks like we're going to have to find the money to fence the yard, since keeping our very active dog on-leash isn't really a sustainable option long-term.

To answer Jen's question, Buddy and Harry get along pretty well. Buddy is convinced that Harry does not smell nearly enough like a dog, so he spends much of his time trying to locate some exposed skin to lick. So Harry gets kissed on the face, the hands, and the feet a ton. Harry, for his part, vacillates between being thoroughly amused -- smiling away -- and pursing his lips and furrowing his brow, showing what I can only guess is his "enough already!" face.

There are a ton of baby toys on the floor, but Buddy leaves them alone. Over the course of his six years, Buddy somehow learned the command "not for dogs," so when a new toy enters the house for Harry that Buddy thinks might be for him, we let Buddy sniff it first while telling him that it isn't for him, and he tends to keep away. Thus far, there's only been one toy that he has really wanted (this one, which Harry doesn't have any interest in yet anyway), so we keep it off the floor. (When our friend's two year old came over after Harry's baptism, she didn't understand the notion of toys that weren't for dogs, so she saw Buddy begging for it and picked it up and held it out to him saying "here, doggie." It was hysterical.)

I wish I could manage to capture a decent photo of the two of them, but someone is always moving :) Aside from the Halloween one, this is about the best I've got:

Lest He Think We Forgot Him

He's still the best dog ever.

And that toy (he knows it as "red toy") is still gross.

The More Uplifting Post I Promised

Thanks for letting me whine yesterday, and thanks to all of you for your support. I had a minor meltdown this morning and (finally) let P know how stressed I was feeling about work and about how much we have to do between now and September. I felt a bit better after getting it out. Plus, I survived a client being interviewed by the IRS this morning and feel like I'll actually be able to get this filing that needs to get out the door today done in time. I will still have a ton of work to do over the next few weeks, but am feeling slightly less overwhelmed.

As for a few more uplifting thoughts:

1. I finally look pregnant rather than like I ate too much at Thankgiving dinner. I always thought it was a joke when pregnant women said they woke up one morning and felt like they popped, but I woke up the morning after the Walk for Hunger and was twice the size I had been the day before. When I started the Walk, the friend I was walking with joked that if she didn't know I was pregnant she certainly wouldn't guess from looking at me. That is certainly no longer true. Strangers comment now, including the lady at the counter when I got lunch yesterday. I feel like there are periodically little things that make this all seem real, and having the appearance of a pregnant person, as much as it freaks me out, is one of those things.
2. Along similar lines (i.e. things that make this all feel real), we ordered our nursery furniture last weekend. We got the "regular" (i.e. drop side) crib and the combo unit (without hutch) from this line in cherry. There were other cribs we liked more (such as this one and this one), but we didn't like the corresponding dressers (namely the price -- twice as much as the one we got), and they didn't have the cribs we liked in stains that any other company uses (they mainly had cognac), so we went with this as a compromise. We also got a changing table pad. Crazy. It was also great to feel like we accomplished something off of our mammoth to-do list. And, again, the feeling real thing.
3. My brother brought flowers for all the moms for mother's day dinner (he is a florist) and brought an arrangement for me. And my mother-in-law got me a card and a Red Sox onesie for Lou (which is what we've been calling the baby in utero). I didn't expect anything from anyone, so both gestures were very sweet and very much appreciated.
4. I love my dog. He's the best dog ever. This is terrible, but I've often wondered if I will love my children as much as I love my dog. I am sure I will, but I really do love my dog. How could you not?

Buddy on "his bed" (aka the guest bed)

"Rooooo! Throw my red toy!"

His favorite activity -- swimming for tennis balls (none of his constituent mutt parts are supposed to be swimmers, but he loves the water)

Why our dog doesn't get a lot of stuffed toys

While the beagle and basset hound in him love his stuffed toys,



the Jack Russell Terrier in him would prefer to thrash his head around,



slamming the toy into the ground, making himself dizzy with the power of destruction.

Doggie vacation

Whenever we go away, our dog stays with my MIL -- she lives nearby and says she likes having him around. Oddly, every time we come home, our normally hyperactive (or at least periodically hyperactive) dog is exhausted. He often sleeps for days straight, waking mainly to eat and go to the bathroom. Last night, he was so tired, he didn't want to get off his bed to go outside before bed.

I think we finally figured it out. When we're home, he hangs out at home during the day by himself when we're at work, and I suspect he spends much of that time snoozing. At night, he hangs out with us, plays, and eventually goes back to sleep. When he's at my MILs, he spends the day hanging out with her husband, who really likes playing with him (or at least pretends to). At night, like when he's at home, he hangs out and plays. But when he tries to go to sleep, he spends much of the night hiding from the cats, two of whom love to torment him. By the time he gets home, he's way behind on sleep. Poor Buddy!

(This was a few years ago but, well, same basic dog.)