Saturday, June 23, 2007

 

Oreo's Under the Weather

WARNING: The following entry has dog-related language that some readers may find offensive. Reader discretion is advised.

Yeah, right. Is there even anything called "reader discretion"? Presumably yes since we're always being warned about the advisability of something called "viewer discretion" on our
TV screens.

Anyway, Oreo's a bit sick. Actually, he's pretty much back to normal but this morning he definitely seemed under the weather. As usual, I was up first. I was hoping to sleep in after Oreo had barked at 3:30 in the morning and I was the lucky (stupid?) one to get up, let him out and wait FIFTEEN MINUTES for him to return.

When I got up again at seven, I was greeted with a small pile of dog puke on the living room carpet. Rather than wake up Oreo's two owners (believe me, I was sorely tempted), I fashioned a makeshift shovel from two pieces of cardboard and deposited the bulk of the mess and the cardboard pooper scooper in our city-provided composter.

I then proceeded to sponge mop the offended patch of carpet with warm, soapy water. I blotted the spot with a clean rag and turned the corner of the rug to let it dry better.

Since I had to take my car in for servicing that morning and since a technician was scheduled to show up that morning to check out our phone line, I figured that I better take Oreo for a walk since Cheryl wouldn't get a chance. So I did although I was again questioning who was the owner of this high maintenance dog.

The walk was our usual twenty minute stroll through the neigborhood complete with Oreo's mid-walk stop for a poop. For months I have been lucky and Oreo has done his business in the backyard before we leave. But ever since the back fence was down, he seems to have gotten in the habit of waiting until he's on his walk to defecate. Lucky me.

Except this time he didn't produce his usual pile of poop (notice the crappy alliteration). Instead, he assumed the usual position and voided a small amount of diarrhea. As a conscientious dog owner (or, more accurately, a conscientious dog walker), I always pick up after the pooch. I even had the mandatory plastic bag at the ready. But it didn't take me long to decide that scooping a small amount of diarrhea was not going to be easy or productive. So, for once, I did not stoop and poop. But really, can you blame me?

I'm happy to report that Oreo and I are almost back to normal.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

 

Back to Normal

Well, the new fence is up along the back property line and that means Oreo can have free run of the backyard again. What a relief. In the interim, we had to put him on a leash when we let him outside. Except that he didn't want to go out. And even when we could finally convince him to go outside, more often than not he'd get his leash caught up on a chair or some other obstacle and whine to be let back in. I'm glad that experiment has come to an end.

A different experiment also came to an end today. When I got home, I discovered a very clean dog - one who had apparently been given two baths. That's fine; I have no complaint with that. But after bathing him, Cheryl tied a red ribbon around his neck complete with a frou-frou bow. Although Oreo's not really my dog, I felt that I had to stand up for what little masculine pride he had left. Cheryl finally relented and removed the ribbon. Now Oreo's not only clean but no longer an object of ridicule.

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