Poor Jake will have a life changing experience this week. He's getting neutered Tuesday morning. I have such mixed feelings about this. I know, like Bob Barker would say, all pets should be spayed or neutered. We don't need more stray puppies running around. However, Jake is an indoor dog and never gets out. And I know he could get out sometime but there aren't an abundance of female dogs around here that Jake has access to. The ones that are around here, aren't his type.
I have mixed feelings about it because I'm afraid it will change our Jake. What if it changes what makes him Jake? I'm pretty sure Jeff is counting on it changing Jake. Hoping it calms him a bit, settles him down. I think he's hoping it will make Jake smarter but I'm pretty sure that's not in the brochure.
I'm not a vet, but why can't they just do a little vasectomy and snip the vas deferens to make him shoot blanks? Everyone rolls their eyes when I ask this. Why do they have to do something that's so visual and will change him hormonally? I'll let everyone know how the procedure goes.....if I go through with it.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Calling Dr. Doolittle....
When I was a kid, I loved my grandpa. He stood about 8 feet tall, always wore khaki colored pants, cowboy boots, a Stetson, and, if he was dressing up, a bolo tie. He wasn't a drugstore cowboy, he was a country vet and I thought he was the greatest. When we would go visit my grandparents in their tiny, tiny town in Oklahoma, Grandpa would let me go on visits with him once in awhile. I can still remember my amazement when I saw him roll up his sleeves and put his arm inside a cow...and I mean waaaayy inside the cow. At his house, I would always check out all his really cool tools and the glass syringes with really long needles and look inside the refrigerator that was just for all his different medicines. When I got old enough, I thought I wanted to be just like him. I was going to be a vet. I eventually started reading all the James Herriott books because he symbolized my grandpa in so many ways.
Then one day I realized animals can't talk. It was one thing to treat cows and sheep, they never really seemed to care what Grandpa was doing to them, even when his arm was way up there. But I had a dog and when he was hurt and whimpering, I didn't know what was wrong with him and I felt very helpless. It bothered me that we would to take him to a vet and hope the vet could figure it all out without my dog ever saying a word to him. I decided I didn't have what it takes to deal with hurting dogs and that ended my veterinary career.
Which leads me to Jake. This past week we were walking in the park and he was being his usual nosey self. Suddenly he yelped, tucked his tail between his legs and started running off on 3 legs. He was trying his best to drag me and when I finally got him, I was sure he must have been bitten by something. We were in short grass so I didn't think it could be a snake and I didn't think ants or a bug could cause the reaction he had. Maybe he stepped on something. I looked at his paw but anytime I moved his leg, he whimpered. I kept asking him what was wrong and of course, he just whimpered. I got him home and called our wonderful vet about it and they told me to bring him right in. Abigail and I got him in the van and took off. I kept expecting his foot to swell from whatever bit him or from whatever was now lodged in his foot. If only I knew what was hurting him! The vet watched him walk, put him on the exam table and pulled and poked. I'm still fascinated by the way a vet works. Looking, checking, and zeroing in on the problem. Abigail and I kept whispering to Jake that everything was ok but I'm sure if he could have talked, Jake would have assured us that things were, in fact, not ok at all. After his exam, the vet told me that Jake had injured a ligament in his knee. What?! His knee? He showed me how everything pointed to a knee injury. Not that I didn't believe him, but I asked how a knee injury could cause this reaction and how could it happen so fast. (I think I asked that because I couldn't believe I was so far off on my own diagnosis) He said just like an athlete will suddenly start limping while running, dogs can do the same thing. Wow. I never thought of Jake as an athlete. So, 2 shots and a bottle of pills later, we left with instructions that our athlete was not to jump or run off the leash for at least a week. He's doing much better now and I'm grateful to his vet for his ability to know what's wrong with my dog by reading all the subtle signs. But I still wish Jake could tell me when something hurts.
Then one day I realized animals can't talk. It was one thing to treat cows and sheep, they never really seemed to care what Grandpa was doing to them, even when his arm was way up there. But I had a dog and when he was hurt and whimpering, I didn't know what was wrong with him and I felt very helpless. It bothered me that we would to take him to a vet and hope the vet could figure it all out without my dog ever saying a word to him. I decided I didn't have what it takes to deal with hurting dogs and that ended my veterinary career.
Which leads me to Jake. This past week we were walking in the park and he was being his usual nosey self. Suddenly he yelped, tucked his tail between his legs and started running off on 3 legs. He was trying his best to drag me and when I finally got him, I was sure he must have been bitten by something. We were in short grass so I didn't think it could be a snake and I didn't think ants or a bug could cause the reaction he had. Maybe he stepped on something. I looked at his paw but anytime I moved his leg, he whimpered. I kept asking him what was wrong and of course, he just whimpered. I got him home and called our wonderful vet about it and they told me to bring him right in. Abigail and I got him in the van and took off. I kept expecting his foot to swell from whatever bit him or from whatever was now lodged in his foot. If only I knew what was hurting him! The vet watched him walk, put him on the exam table and pulled and poked. I'm still fascinated by the way a vet works. Looking, checking, and zeroing in on the problem. Abigail and I kept whispering to Jake that everything was ok but I'm sure if he could have talked, Jake would have assured us that things were, in fact, not ok at all. After his exam, the vet told me that Jake had injured a ligament in his knee. What?! His knee? He showed me how everything pointed to a knee injury. Not that I didn't believe him, but I asked how a knee injury could cause this reaction and how could it happen so fast. (I think I asked that because I couldn't believe I was so far off on my own diagnosis) He said just like an athlete will suddenly start limping while running, dogs can do the same thing. Wow. I never thought of Jake as an athlete. So, 2 shots and a bottle of pills later, we left with instructions that our athlete was not to jump or run off the leash for at least a week. He's doing much better now and I'm grateful to his vet for his ability to know what's wrong with my dog by reading all the subtle signs. But I still wish Jake could tell me when something hurts.
Monday, April 6, 2009
More things that Jake does...by Abigail
Since Jake is Abigail's dog too, she wanted to be a part of the blog. So this is from Abigail:
So I am sure that if you read my mom's blog then you know that her name is Cindy. ( I think you should know ) Well I am her daughter, Abigail. Jake is my dog too. Well here are some things that he has done. ( Mostly Idiotic! )
Once there was a possum in our backyard. Jake didn't even bark! But whenever he goes outside to do his business, and he sees his shadow, He barks!!!
I think you know Freddie the Doxie, one time when he was over I invited a friend over. Well we gave Jake and Freddie nicknames. Jake was Doofus, the name sorta stuck cause the next day he was my "DoofieBaby".
I have seen that movie Marley and Me and I guess that Jake is half a Marley. Not as big, still alive, not so much of a dog that eats as much as he chews. Once he actually ate a razor blade though. Jake once chewed up my laptop, my mom's slippers and her cellphone, both of my old slippers are chew toys. Now he will trot up to my mom and she will play tug o war and then throw it, I shout go get Slipper! I could not use a small blog to describe all of the things that has ever been through my dog's mouth!
So I am sure that if you read my mom's blog then you know that her name is Cindy. ( I think you should know ) Well I am her daughter, Abigail. Jake is my dog too. Well here are some things that he has done. ( Mostly Idiotic! )
Once there was a possum in our backyard. Jake didn't even bark! But whenever he goes outside to do his business, and he sees his shadow, He barks!!!
I think you know Freddie the Doxie, one time when he was over I invited a friend over. Well we gave Jake and Freddie nicknames. Jake was Doofus, the name sorta stuck cause the next day he was my "DoofieBaby".
I have seen that movie Marley and Me and I guess that Jake is half a Marley. Not as big, still alive, not so much of a dog that eats as much as he chews. Once he actually ate a razor blade though. Jake once chewed up my laptop, my mom's slippers and her cellphone, both of my old slippers are chew toys. Now he will trot up to my mom and she will play tug o war and then throw it, I shout go get Slipper! I could not use a small blog to describe all of the things that has ever been through my dog's mouth!
Friday, April 3, 2009
I've read that one of the worst things you can do as a dog owner is to assign human characteristics to you pet. We all do it. We take turns talking like the dog, using the voice we assume the dog would speak in, saying things we think he would say if he could talk.
Our first dog, Snoopy, was brilliant. Really. He was just a very smart dog that seemed very human. Maybe it was because we got him when I was 5 and I basically grew up with him. When I was crying for whatever reason, Snoopy would come over, sit next to me and endure me throwing my arms around his neck and boo-hooing. He wouldn't budge, just sit there and wait for me to cry it out. Then he would go about his own business. But it was as if he realized that comforting me was part of his job in our family. I always thought when Snoopy was born, a dog angel told him he would earn his dog wings after he took care of our family for a few years. I believed if Snoopy could talk, he would have let us all know that he was so much smarter than the rest of us humans. But he took great care of us for 18 years. He was always there when I needed him.
After our angel dog, we had Rosco. What a vindictive little dog. He was a daschund that really didn't like me at all. He did most things out of pure spite. He always reminded me of that cartoon dog Muttley, the dog of Dick Dastardly. Remember them? Rosco could have easily belonged to him too. Muttley always did mean things and then had a wheezy little laugh. Yup, that was Rosco.
My dad now has a cute doxie named Freddie. He's a cute little thing but his personality is something else. If you've ever seen the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Freddie would be the Frenchman that insults everyone from the top of the castle. Freddie can look at me and honestly, I hear him say in a heavy French accent, "I blow my nose in your general direction." I know doxies are supposed to be German but for some reason, Freddie is French in my mind.
Then we have our little Jake. To me, he is Mr. Haney from Green Acres. All he needs is a straw hat. I hear him saying things like "Well, folks, today I have a fine deal on a used rawhide. Why don't we sit down here and talk about it for a spell?" He never meets a stranger and if he could, I have a feeling he would want to invite everyone over for dinner or coffee. He might not be the brightest dog out there or the most empathetic but he's very loveable. And not once have I heard him insult me in French.
Our first dog, Snoopy, was brilliant. Really. He was just a very smart dog that seemed very human. Maybe it was because we got him when I was 5 and I basically grew up with him. When I was crying for whatever reason, Snoopy would come over, sit next to me and endure me throwing my arms around his neck and boo-hooing. He wouldn't budge, just sit there and wait for me to cry it out. Then he would go about his own business. But it was as if he realized that comforting me was part of his job in our family. I always thought when Snoopy was born, a dog angel told him he would earn his dog wings after he took care of our family for a few years. I believed if Snoopy could talk, he would have let us all know that he was so much smarter than the rest of us humans. But he took great care of us for 18 years. He was always there when I needed him.
After our angel dog, we had Rosco. What a vindictive little dog. He was a daschund that really didn't like me at all. He did most things out of pure spite. He always reminded me of that cartoon dog Muttley, the dog of Dick Dastardly. Remember them? Rosco could have easily belonged to him too. Muttley always did mean things and then had a wheezy little laugh. Yup, that was Rosco.
My dad now has a cute doxie named Freddie. He's a cute little thing but his personality is something else. If you've ever seen the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Freddie would be the Frenchman that insults everyone from the top of the castle. Freddie can look at me and honestly, I hear him say in a heavy French accent, "I blow my nose in your general direction." I know doxies are supposed to be German but for some reason, Freddie is French in my mind.
Then we have our little Jake. To me, he is Mr. Haney from Green Acres. All he needs is a straw hat. I hear him saying things like "Well, folks, today I have a fine deal on a used rawhide. Why don't we sit down here and talk about it for a spell?" He never meets a stranger and if he could, I have a feeling he would want to invite everyone over for dinner or coffee. He might not be the brightest dog out there or the most empathetic but he's very loveable. And not once have I heard him insult me in French.
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