You can’t believe what my rotten dog did to me Sunday.
It was pouring rain and we were walking. We got to Bill & Betty’s driveway and their garage door was opening. B & B have a miniature schnauzer named Bear – he’s about 5 or 6 pounds and thinks he’s just as big a boy as my 100+ pound Max – and he loves us (Max and me). He minds really well (yeah, right) – until we walk by – then he heads for us at top speed and nothing can stop him.
The problem is that we are all concerned about the difference in size – the dogs get along fine – but Max could hurt Bear without trying. So, I usually pick him up as soon as he gets to me and release Max’s leash so he’ll run to B & B.
Sunday I was juggling Max's leash and an umbrella so I just knelt on the ground and Bear huddled under my rain cape while I petted him. Max was wandering around and he walked up to me, hiked his leg – and PEED all over the front of me!!! I couldn’t believe he was doing that for a few seconds – so he had a chance to really wet me down before I told him to GO AWAY.
B & B were getting ready to go to town so they got in the car and drove down to where I was waiting for them - their driveway is about 2 city blocks long.
I shook the yellow waterfall from my cape and handed Bear to Betty - then told them what my rotten dog had just done. Of course, they thought this was just too funny. (it is)
They decided that he was:
Trying to mark me as his territory so Bear wouldn’t feel free to hide under my rain cape.
Mad cause I was petting another dog and was saying "Well, piss on you."
I said that I probably didn’t want to know what he was thinking - whatever it was had to be something it was better for me not to know.
I can’t believe my dog peed all over me.
Maybe he’s still upset about the porcupine quills?
We all want to have fun - unfortunately real life interferes. There's school, and college, and marriage, and (for the lucky ones) babies to raise, and work. Then there's always divorce, sickness and death to anticipate in our future or look back to in our past. But, we do manage to sneak in some fun now and again too. I'd like to share some of those moments here with some of my friends.
Monday, November 03, 2003
Saturday, October 25, 2003
Girls Sometimes Get Bloody - Max and the Porcupine
Last night at about 11 pm, Max, our 100-pound Mastiff/Boxer mix, tried to bite a porcupine. This is a very bad thing to do. But poor Max has never been around one before. He had quills in his mouth and gums and tongue. All around his muzzle. He was a hurting mess. We brought him in the house and made him lay on his side. Don lay on top of him to hold him down while I pulled out the quills using a pair of pliers. Max had no way of knowing that I was trying to help him - not hurt him.
I've had a quill in my leg one time - and they are very painful. And they really hurt when you pull them out.
He kept fighting us - and periodically I'd have to stop working on him and pull him onto my lap and calm him down so we could go back to work. He was panting from heat and pain and fear and eventually just collapsed from exhaustion at the end. Which made it easier for me to pull the hardest quills out of his mouth. He had no fight left in him.
I took him down to the creek and let him crawl in and cool off - then fed him some soft dog food. The livingroom floor was covered with blood and dog drool and so was I (since I'd been laying on the floor while working on him). We cleaned it up and then took showers. We were both covered in sweat and my clothes looked like I'd spent the day in a slaughter house.
We checked on him several times before finally going to bed at about 1 am – and he kept rubbing against both of us to let us know that there were no hard feelings.
Max is a rescue dog. He was badly abused and neglected and we rescued him from the dog pound. We’ve spent the last two years treating him gently and getting him to trust us. I really hated to have to hurt him last night. But, I hope he realizes that we were trying to help him.
Max is fine this morning. We expected him to be sore or nervous. But, he's his normal joyful self.
Note: Animal-rights wackos need not bother to write. I can't afford medical care for myself so a huge vet bill was not even an option. The only alternative to pulling the quills ourselves was a bullet to put him out of his misery. If asked, I'm quite sure Max would say that was not his preferred alternative.
I've had a quill in my leg one time - and they are very painful. And they really hurt when you pull them out.
He kept fighting us - and periodically I'd have to stop working on him and pull him onto my lap and calm him down so we could go back to work. He was panting from heat and pain and fear and eventually just collapsed from exhaustion at the end. Which made it easier for me to pull the hardest quills out of his mouth. He had no fight left in him.
I took him down to the creek and let him crawl in and cool off - then fed him some soft dog food. The livingroom floor was covered with blood and dog drool and so was I (since I'd been laying on the floor while working on him). We cleaned it up and then took showers. We were both covered in sweat and my clothes looked like I'd spent the day in a slaughter house.
We checked on him several times before finally going to bed at about 1 am – and he kept rubbing against both of us to let us know that there were no hard feelings.
Max is a rescue dog. He was badly abused and neglected and we rescued him from the dog pound. We’ve spent the last two years treating him gently and getting him to trust us. I really hated to have to hurt him last night. But, I hope he realizes that we were trying to help him.
Max is fine this morning. We expected him to be sore or nervous. But, he's his normal joyful self.
Note: Animal-rights wackos need not bother to write. I can't afford medical care for myself so a huge vet bill was not even an option. The only alternative to pulling the quills ourselves was a bullet to put him out of his misery. If asked, I'm quite sure Max would say that was not his preferred alternative.
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