The Dog

This blog is more for posterity sake - but I have to share the recent history of our dog Grady. He seems to be attracting problems to himself at a rate that I'm having trouble keeping up with. At first I was ready to pack him up and ship him out, but it's getting to the point that all I can do is laugh. OK - here it goes.

It all started early this fall when his paws were very red and bothered. We took him to the vet who explained that he has seasonal allergies. So he prescribed an antibiotic but warned that Grady would be very hungry and thirsty - but that we shouldn't give him extra food - well, maybe a little bit.
Sure enough, he was thirsty ALL the time and his scrounging (usually tolerable) NEVER ceased. What I did not add to the equation is that increased fluid intake means increased output - and it wasn't until three accidents later that we started adding in extra trips outside. Now we're not taking puppy puddles - we're talking Lake Superior, holy crap I don't have enough towels, running all over the kitchen sized leaks.
So that was the first incident . . .

Next, we're out walking and surprise, surprise, I have to use the restroom. (one of the woes of pregnancy) So I loop his leash up outside the public restroom near the playground and take Analise with me into the bathroom. While inside (minutes, I assure you) I hear some shouting and by the time I can get back out the door I find that Grady has pulled off the loop and has chased after another dog. I run after him and throw myself into the middle of a dog fight to get him back on his leash. The owner of the other dog is enraged (though hers is unharmed and just as keen to get back at Grady) and she demands that we pay ALL the vet bills . . . which we do - somewhere in the neighborhood of 175 francs.
So that was the second . . .

Next, I find in the mail a letter stating the the person who cleans the communal parts of our building found doggy doo-doo in the basement and since we're the only dog owners it must be our dog's. What the what!? Anybody who knows Grady knows that he take FOREVER to get it worked out and therefore would not have had the time to do so in the basement. Daniel suggested I send in a sample - just to make sure they were really certain it was ours. But since it was just a warning, there was no fine . . .
so that was third.

Next, we take responsibility for this, but it involves Grady and must be told. While on our brief trip to Milan Daniel mistakenly took the Kindermusik key from my ring and not the house key to leave for our friends who were watching Grady for us. We arrived in Milan to find an email frantically asking us what they were supposed to do. We had a series of shouted phone calls first with a locksmith, then the police, and then our neighbors again (all the while at a crazy Italian pizzeria) - and finally figured out that the locksmith could drill the door and replace the lock, with the police present, and give a key to our neighbors who could then get to Grady. This pretty little number ran in the area of 700 francs . . . .
so that was the fourth

Next, we were out for a walk with Grades after a fresh snowfall. Beautiful, serene, nice quality family time . . . until Grady takes off running down a huge hill to retrieve a stick and breaks his little doggy toe. He came limping back up the hill and looked so stoic and pathetic that we knew it was probably causing him a lot of pain. So we turned around and went home. He's been wearing an ace bandage and doing only minimal walking for the past week or so.
so that was fifth

Finally (and this one takes the cake) he got a marrow bone lodged around the bottom half of his jaw. I gave him this bone as a special treat after making beef stock with it - so it was very flavorful and tasty. It's a ring the size of touching your thumb to middle finger, then slightly opened up. He'd been working on it for a couple of days when I noticed that he wasn't dropping it out of his mouth when playing. I looked closer to find that it was completely lodged on his jaw behind the incisors. Several attempts to slide it off resulted in absolute hysterics. He started lunging and thrashing around the kitchen, pawing frantically at his face. Daniel attempted to remove it with a saw and a pliers - but to no avail. After a call to the vet we realized we had to take him in, but she assured us that as long as he was calm we could wait until morning. So we got him calmed down and went to bed. What the vet failed to tell us is that by morning his breath would smell like raw sewage and the gum tissue would be swollen - poor guy, and poor us- that REEKED!! So I get Analise loaded into the car and then bring down the dog - who gets in the car and starts the thrashing routine again - throwing himself against windows, the seat in front of him and the floor. From the rear view mirror it was a bit like the Muppet Show - but with flying dogs instead of flying chickens. At the vet we're walking through a glare ice parking lot - so I'm pulling the crazy dog on one side and holding Analise up by an arm on the other side and feeling pretty sure I"m going to send myself into labor. Thankfully it wasn't long until the vet was able to sedate him and then saw the bone off. That bill was around 150 francs.
So that was the sixth . . .

They say bad things happen in sets of three - so we've had our three twice over, right??
All this to say, between the regular old slobbering, shedding, scrounging and stinking and the "extra special" accidents - he's still a pretty good little friend, so we won't be shipping him off any time soon but we may be laughing . . . until we cry.