Poop Cookies and Wonder Dog!
"Before I shed light on the title, how about a little history.
Nine and a half years ago, a little 2 pound fuzzball showed up on our front porch as a gift for my daughter. It was a Shitzu puppy, maybe 6 weeks old, cute as a button and stubborn as the day is long. Cuteness and cuddlyness kind of made us overlook the massive puddles of pee and the oopses in the house on the rug. Well, at least for a while. Training and more training and countless rolls of paper towels and floor cleaner have led us to where we are now - still dealing with the occasional lake in the dining room (nowadays, we blame it on the water pills).
He's a fuzzball! He is a rambunctious, opinionated, diabolical, four legged hairy kid.
A lot of rain or no rain at all is par for the course for living in the south. Good or bad, we can't control it so we deal with it. We have no other choice. However, my cuddly little four legged schemer, hates to get his little feet wet and further more, will absolutely no way ever in my lifetime or his, walk into dewey wet grass or through a puddle. Heaven forbid. Can't keep him out of the bathtub, but, hey, that's playtime! Puddles and wet grass are not a part of his vocabulary. So, we began a reward system for when he was a "good boy" and did his business outside, rain or shine. Hence, the "poop cookies". Trust me, he knows, too. He only gets a treat when he does what he is supposed to do. When we come in, he will stand in front of the counter and bark at the yellow bag with those tasty poop rewards, until he has received the ultimate treat. Spoiled, no, not the least bit.
For the first 2 or 3 years of his life, he was my daughter's dog. Now she has 200 pounds worth of four legged attitude of her own in her home with her husband. So, the fuzzball became my "baby".
Last fall, we began to realize that he was showing serious signs of growing old and very quickly. He has a heart murmur and a heart that so large that it puts pressure on his trachea and sometimes he "hurks" because it is hard to breathe. We are working on that. I love this little dog. He is my secret buddy. I can tell him things that are my deepest thoughts and secrets and really know that they stay with him. I will really miss him when he is gone.
Recently, his coughing has become worse, but then again, anyone with lungs is suffering due to our sweltering 90 degree plus heat and humidity. We talked about what to do and felt like maybe it was time to make a decision about the one way trip to the vet. The fact that I had just read "The Art of Racing in The Rain" didn't help with my emotions, and I spent literally a whole weekend, cuddling this sweet little dog on my lap (oh, can't forget the rocking, he loves to be rocked). He seemed as if he was ready. Deep, starring glances from his eyes, led me to believe that it really was time, or so we thought.
Picture us, driving to the vet, tearful, emotional, loving on my little hairy kid. We sat quietly in the waiting room, of course, with him cuddled on my lap. It was our turn and we made our way to the exam room, where he was carefully placed on the table. (Had to be careful, he is very delicate). Temperature first and those big bulging eyes about popped out of his head! He had been violated! Gained a couple pounds, maybe the result of too many poop cookies???? Hmm...
In walks, what we think is absolutely the greatest vet in the world and this little guy just loves her. My forlorn, pitiful puppy proceeded to stand up, lick her chin and bark playfully at his favorite doggie doc. One look at me with a smile, and she simply said, "mom, it's not time yet". He still has a lot of life left in him.
Now, having read the book that I did, I had it in my mind that my little dog understood every word that was being said and took it all to heart. On the trip home, he stood and looked out the window, barked at people in cars next to us and ran in the house like there was no tomorrow. I think he needed to hear what she said as well. The toy basket got tipped over and over the course of the next hour, he played with every toy that he owned. Running up and down the hallway made him cough, but he is also starting to figure out that he will stop coughing if he lays on his side. This is a smart dog! It has been like this since the vet trip. It's great. He has an amazing will to live.
Well enough of that, back to the poop cookies. Again, Georgia being Georgia, and weather prognosticators being as inept as they can be, the only real way you know if you are going to get rain down here is to walk outside and see if it is raining - which it did Tuesday night for hours and hours. It was great! Wednesday morning, dog walking, puddles, attitude, escape attempts back to the house - I knew if this little pooch didn't go potty, he would pop! Side ways glances at me when I MADE him walk into the wet grass were venom filled and there it was, all of a sudden, you could see him formulating a plan. I was in trouble! Look left, look right and a bee line made for the end of the driveway. My fears were that he was going to do something really stupid like dart out in the road. Nope, not him. He was in revenge mode in the soggy wet outdoors. Before I could get to him and scoot his little body over into the grass, he took position in the middle of the driveway and left us a present that will not soon be forgotten. He turned around and looked at me and sneered! Yes, he did! He was back in the house before I could clean up the mess, and there he sat, in front of the counter and the magical yellow bag, barking his head off.
At first, the whole thing wasn't funny. Now, I can't help but smile when I replay the whole thing in my mind. It was smart, it was calculated and it was spiteful! So, guess what I did. I gave him a poop cookie and now he's happy."
Goodbye Wonder Dog! Love you, RIP...you fought a good fight, touched a lot of hearts and made us all very happy.
first published June 27, 2010...
Goodbye Wonder Dog! Love you, RIP...you fought a good fight, touched a lot of hearts and made us all very happy.
first published June 27, 2010...
