Over the week of the Fourth of July Frinklin and I took a week off work and invited my family up from San Diego. We had beautiful weather in the mid 70s, sun shining, few clouds, and no rain. They spent most of the week shivering and complaining that they had not brung enough heavy jackets. Wimps.

On the fifth, my fourteen-year-old sister, Nikki, managed to grab a stray dog that was wandering through our front yard and informed me that we would be placing him in my backyard. I was given no choice in the matter. I avoided all contact with the dog and left a message with Animal Control asking that they pick up the stray as soon as possible. The dog was provided water and a blanket to lie upon. No petting. No naming.

Forty-eight hours, five bowl of dog food, and two additional calls to Animal Control later, we were forced to spend some panicked time with the stray. We had returned home from a day-long hike in the Olympic National Forest (at Lake Quinault) with The Jeffrey and Matchbox. They were quite exhausted and colapsed upon entering the house. I peeked out the window into the backyard to check on the dog. He appeared under the window, peering up at me, tail wagging. As I turned away I immediately heard loud, noises coming from what sounded like under the house. Thinking he was digging under the fence I ran outside.

Glancing around I found...nothing. The stray was gone. I opened the gate and saw no sign of the giant, 80 pound, hairy beast that had been happily living in our backyard for several days. As I turned to enter the house and tell Frinklin that we were now down one extra canine, I heard a loud whine from ground level. Looking down, I noticed a nose poking out from the ventilation area that leads to the crawl space UNDER THE HOUSE. Let me repeat that. UNDER THE HOUSE. This ventilation hole is only about 12"X18". Eighty pounds of dog. UNDER THE HOUSE. Much yelling for Frinklin started immediately.

Observe:

Please note that what you are seeing is just his head sticking out. His body is far larger. Reason states that if he made it into the hole, he can get out again, right?

At one time, chicken wire had covered this hole, but no longer. As we attempted to coax the stray out, old pieces of wire dug into his legs and chest. Frinklin managed to rip out most of the sharp edges and we began to pull, which didn't work. After ten minutes or so, questions such as "Who does one call to remove an 80 pound dog from your 110 year-old home's 12 inch crawl space?" began to be asked. The fire department? Those wild animal removal specialists that work with alligators and skunks?

It finally dawned on me that the reason he had shoved himself under the house is that he was trying to enter the house to be with us. He saw me through the window and wanted to come in. This provided leverage, finally. I started encouraging with all my might. Calling him every sweet doggie name there is. Petting him and sweet-talking, praising and cooing. Slowly one leg...then...the other...Frinklin had them both...the front end is out...now the middle...and...free!

We were immediately covered by a giant, harry mass of very excited dog. Any thought of sending him off with Animal Control was banished. Spending 45 minutes rescuing a dog from your crawl space is a bonding experience for all parties involved. He was ours, and we were his. We christened him Herky and vowed to keep our families in the dark for a few more days until we could confirm that The Jeffrey would accept the new recruit.

More tomorrow...

Posted by: Ensie at 08:28 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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There are benefits to sleeping in. I learned this on Friday. Somehow I had fallen asleep again after the alarm went off and rushed into the shower at 8:30 instead of 7:30. While hurriedly drying off and getting dressed I noticed a small red mark on the carpet. Thinking it was an old stain I touched it. My finger came away red and wet.

Immediately I flew into action, thinking that one of the cats had gotten too enthusiastic while playing or someone had torn a claw open. While checking PercyÂ’s feet in the kitchen I glanced at The Jeffrey standing behind me and saw several red drops underneath his body. Quickly, I asked The Jeffrey to sit and lie down and began to examine him for an injury. Finally I found the source. The Jeffrey appeared to be bleeding from hisÂ…penis?

Great. Fantastic. What a way to get to know my brand new (awesome) vet I had seen once with Clyde. Fortunately, the receptionist was understanding and professional, and asked me to bring him in within the hour. I flew around the house grabbing a towel to cover a seat in the new car, rushing to the bedroom to grab socks, then back to The Jeffrey to mop up more blood. Before leaving I let both dogs out to pee and all systems appeared go.

As the vet’s (lets just call her Dr. Awesome from now on) office is only five minutes from our house and the trip was quick and non-eventful. Upon entering the office we were ushered into an examination room to speak with the vet-tech. I asked that The Jeffrey be muzzled, as his past experiences with veterinarians in San Diego always involved a lot of growling and threatening behavior. The tech offered him liver treats instead and proclaimed him, “Sweet!â€� I was told that most dogs seem very relaxed in this particular office for some reason, and she was right. For safety’s sake we did muzzle him for the exam, which was quick and again lacked any sort of growling or posturing. Either The Jeffrey was really hurting, or this office really did soothe the savage beast.

The JeffreyÂ’s diagnosis? Bladder stones. A big one moving down the urethra was causing the bleeding and minor surgery under anesthesia would be required for removal. A catheter would then be inserted to check for more stones that had moved out of the bladder and several blood and urine tests would need to be done. I didnÂ’t look at the estimate but told Dr. Awesome to do whatever needed to be done, no matter the cost. The Jeffrey was scheduled for surgery a couple of hours later and I left him in a cozy kennel promising to return soon. I warned the staff again to be careful as he had a history of aggression with strangers, walked out to the car, and proceeded to cry for a good five minutes before driving home. Leaving any vetÂ’s office with an unattached leash is an awful feeling.

The afternoon passed slowly and far too quietly without regular interruptions of barking at every single person who dare walk down our street. Phone calls flew every half hour between Frinklin, trapped at work in downtown Seattle, and my Mom in San Diego. Dr. Awesome had promised to call should anything go wrong and when the caller ID flashed “Dr. Awesomeâ€� twenty minutes into the scheduled surgery the blood rushing in my ears made it hard to hear. No emergency, just a check to see if I wanted to have some regular vaccinations done. I could hear again.

At four I returned to Dr. Awesome’s to pick up my pup, a little worse for wear. He was still tired from the drugs, but before leaving the receptionist shared some pictures they had taken before the surgery. There was my man-eater, shaking hands and rolling over on command. And here he is with Dr. Awesome hugging him! And here’s me hugging him! And here’s the vet tech! They played with The Jeffrey for 15 minutes before putting him under to “make sure his experience here is a good one.â€� I was complimented on his obedience training and “obviousâ€� effort put into such a great dog. Maybe they had given me the wrong dog? Or maybe when he’s lunging and foaming at the mouth when strangers walk by he’s really wanting to cuddle them?

Dr. Awesome walked me through the next steps and when we should know more (next week). I saw the nasty, now crushed, bladder stone that had caused all the drama. Such a small thing, but jagged and sharp in every direction. The Doc believes that he has at least a couple more stones that she was able to move back into the bladder from the urethra. I was plied with a 23-day supply of antibiotics and plenty of doggie aspirin to keep The Jeffrey comfortable. He slept on the drive home and only barked when Frinklin arrived from work. A small, slowly eaten meal capped off the evening and he snuggled on the bed with us for the rest of the night.

(On a side note I was far more frazzled than the dog and forgot my wallet at home as well as locking both doors to the house when retrieving him. Dr. AwesomeÂ’s receptionist kindly told me to call or stop in within the next few days to pay and fortunately the Toothless-Wonder kept the house safe.)

This morning The Jeffrey appeared to be back to normal outwardly. He had his first “puppy freakoutâ€� in several days and is happily peeing blood free. Frinklin and I were both surprised when Dr. Awesome called at noon to tell us the preliminary results of the tests as her office is closed on Saturday. Now you see why we call her Dr. Awesome. Both The Jeffrey’s kidneys and liver appear to be functioning abnormally and his thyroid measurements are rather low, which may be what has been contributing to his seeming inability to lose weight. We approved without knowledge of costs the sending of the removed stone to Minnesota for further examination and more blood-work. Results should be back on Tuesday or Wednesday with luck.

The Jeffrey is currently relaxing on his brand new bed and enjoying a brand new rawhide bone. Pray for good news next week.

more...

Posted by: Ensie at 10:32 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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The Jeffrey has turned into a killer.

A few weeks ago he scared the crap out of Frinklin by attacking a full-grown opossum that happened to be in our backyard when he went outside before bed. Frinklin told the story here. Fortunately(?) the opossum survived and after playing dead for ten minutes it wandered away. We haven't seen it since.

Despite the fact that word must have spread by now throughout the oppossum community that ours is a house of death, we are still seeing baby oppossums regularly. Unfortunately, we are only seeing them dead. Yesterday while I filled out paperwork for the new car Frinklin ran home to pick up the title for our trade-in. He let The Jeffrey out for just over a minute which is apparently all the time it takes to maul a small opossum.

I've double checked with the vet to make sure that The Jeffrey's rabies vaccine is up to date. Fortunately rabies is not a problem with opossums in the area, only with birds and bats. I really can't take anymore bodies in the backyard though.

Posted by: Ensie at 06:54 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Find your own pose!

The real reason we sleep this way:

Posted by: Ensie at 04:36 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 15 words, total size 1 kb.

1 Hahahahaha! I know exactly how that is. Put two kids in the middle and yeah, that's our bed.

Posted by: eden at April 21, 2006 08:19 PM (M2PUd)

2 LOVE this quiz... I am a bubble blower! D'oh!

Posted by: Jennifer at April 23, 2006 06:22 PM (2sS6X)

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Y'know that scene in Mallrats when Jason Lee sticks his hand down his pants and gets "stank palm"?

My dog has "stank paw."

This morning I found cat pee on the floor in our foyer, reminding me that it was definitely time to really scrub the cat box, not just scoop it out. Apparently The Jeffrey unwittingly stepped directly into the cat pee.

Everywhere The Jeffrey walks--cat pee stench. I spent most of the morning wandering around sniffing the air, the carpet, and the furniture, wondering where the smell was coming from. Finally, the mystery is solved.

I have now wiped his paw with water, water and soap, and took him for a walk to see if it would wear off. He's already cold, so bathing him outside would just be cruelty, and I'm pretty sure our extremely slow draining bathtub would completely revolt if I tried to wash him indoors, so for now I'm stuck. Until the stank just wears off.

Posted by: Ensie at 05:56 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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