Mr P had to travel for work in the last week of July. This is a picture he took at the Chengu Shuangliu International Airport, China, with his Samsung Galaxy S2 smartphone, so please pardon the blurry graininess of the image. :P
Tag: destructive dog
She vexed me today. We came home to find the dog was doing a little interior rearrangement of her own. A vase of roses toppled, the water spilled on the floor and laid stagnant about and under the TV console. That must have surprised and made her nervous. As I scolded and cleaned, I could find traces of saliva dripped in various corners of the living room and corridor.
“Bad girl. Bad. Bad.” went my almost monotone voice. I don’t scream at her but the human still needed to let out some frustration. And since I was cleaning anyway, my frustration went ahead to wipe the white TV console more thoroughly than normal and of course the floor behind and under it. “Bad. Bad.”
I was at the doctor this morning and tired. So I left her alone after I cleaned up to get my own rest. Perhaps an hour later, I heard strange noises that I thought could be her woofing a little in her sleep. Came out of the room to find her in the toilet puking on the newspapers and pee pad.
The two thoughts – worry and “thank god this dog is smart enough to go do it in the toilet” – occurred simultaneously.
“Good. Good girl!” I petted her gently and clapped, half hoping to lighten the mood so she doesn’t feel so awful and half hoping the praise will cement in her brain that ALL future episodes of puking should happen here. “Good job. Good girl.”
That was before I saw the two more puddles of vomit on her bed and another before her bed. She probably did not have the time to head for the toilet so she threw up all her breakfast, and guess what, bits of dried flowers and rose leaf there. I had mistaken her food tasting and self-intoxication session for interior redesign. = =!!!
She was to vomit 8 times in total. The last time, she set on the pee pad and she struggled a bit, her muzzle pinched looking before she threw up mostly white phlegm-looking liquid. Then it was almost as if she was exhausted, she shook off my petting hand and walked away from me to settled down on her own on the floor.
Her bed, grossly soaked and packed with soggy kibble, canned food, barley and the incriminating dried floral arrangement, was packed and dumped in the garbage. So now my sick dog is one bed short. THIS is the reason my friends why a dog should have at least TWO cheap beds and not one ridiculously over-priced bed from the pet shop. I feel so affirmed. Haha! :P
It started to thunder and rain. So today, for the comfort and ease of my poor sick dog, the forbidden study is not forbidden. (I hold my breath that she does not puke again in the study!)
The scenario is pretty similar to the last time she tried to intoxicate herself with a hydrangea leaf, except that that was one quarter of an extremely toxic leaf. So now on top of instituting the forbidden balcony, Mr P will have to consider more carefully when he buys flowers for his wife in future.
But no, that is not why she is behind bars in this picture. Haha :P
LIFE… as it happened.
Theoretically, Donna should be a forbidden subject since mongrels are not HDB-approved by default. You could seek approval but it is subject to approval on a case-by-case basis. And in the case where the dog is not approved, you need to rehome the dog. – –
On the micro-level, our household operates with similar methodology. Donna knows what’s forbidden about the house – the sofa, the kitchen, the rooms – unless we explicitly lets her on or in them. Barricades, like the child gate we’ve installed, are so effective in communicating boundaries.
I like to think our household governance is more compassionate than…. bureaucracy. Most people would have that preference.
Humans are not so easily deterred by rules and regulations. Our eyes seek out the holes and the cracks that sneaks us a peek into what lies behind the barricade. Sure we read the sign-posted “No Entry” disclaimers. But even before the developer was ready to hand over the keys, some more enterprising future neighbours of ours had already sneaked into the development to take pictures and videos of the corridors and the unlocked units.
The Sign Says… doesn’t mean people and dogs will follow.
Interesting isn’t it, how things forbidden present the most desirable adventures to humans and dogs alike.
That’s the answer to why that dog was behind bars in the forbidden kitchen in the first picture. She sneaked in, but unlike our human neighbours, she couldn’t sneak out again. :P
Reference
– when to take a vomiting dog to a vet
– ASPCA dog care – vomiting
The first thing I ever bought for Donna was a nylon bone which frayed within seconds of Donna laying her paws on it. I went, “Oh shoot! There’s goes this expensive bone! I should have bought the Nylabone instead!” I had already read good reviews of the Nylabone online but when I went to the pet store, I somehow picked another bone instead. Yikes!
It wasn’t long that I ended up buying the Nylabone for Donna, but you know what. After a while, it seemed Donna settled in her new environment and she didn’t chew on her toys as much, and spent more time sleeping instead.
As for the first bone I bought for her? It’s still around, its ends frayed more than the hardy Nylabone. I later bought a rawhide milkbone for Donna so that we have a few bones that we can rotate and keep her boredom at bay.
But before we started rationing them, when Donna still had all her bones at her disposal, it almost seemed like Donna prefer the first bone more than her Nylabone. Or maybe its just me convincing myself that she was having more satisfaction ripping bigger bits out of the yellow bone than small slivers out of her Nylabone.
I’m writing about bones today because Mr P’s cousin’s dog Doudou is certainly having fun with her new Nylabone that we got for her. The talented Doudou has to date ripped all her toys, often within minutes, and our cousin out of desperation keeps making trips to the pet store to replenish. Doudou finished her milkbone in minutes, while Donna took weeks to work on her milkbone. So we immediately thought that we needed to get a Nylabone for Doudou.
And Doudou loved the bone. Chewed it for a long time and was so fixated that she went right back to the bone after her dinner and ignored her family the whole time!
Make no bones about it, this is one toy that should last that dog for some time at least.
Note: I did read that rawhide bones are not only harder to digest, they can also be choking risks. The packaging on the nylon bones did advised supervised play. But the whole point of getting these bones are to ensure Donna has things to occupy her time with when we are out of the house. We usually supervise her use of any new toy for a couple of rounds so we can observe and only let her continue when we see that the way she plays with the toy is safe. Then we leave her alone with it once we find it safe for her. In Donna’s case, we observe that she will usually flick her tongue repeatedly to get the chewed bits out and onto the floor before going back to work on the bone. She doesn’t swallow them. We also ensure all bones are larger than her head, and in the case of edible rawhide bones, we remove them from her once they become soft or have been chewed down to a small size that can become a chocking hazard.
