Monday, July 21, 2014
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Friday, June 13, 2014
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
This morning it has occurred to us that Cody is around 12. That's 84 in dog years. Sunday night he didn't bound up the stairs with his usual abandon (to the point we've always been afraid he'd break the staircase and be stuck in the basement). He's not eating like he used to. Eating is his very favorite thing. Second is getting attention. The only thing better is to get food and attention at the same time. I watched him go out to do his business this morning. My dog is old. And I'm not sure he's going to be around much longer. He's always been that dog that cannot be away from his Papa. And if he has to be, could he please come and be with you? As in sit on you. (Awkward for a Black Labrador/Weimaraner mix. He's never been lap dog size for us.) We got him shortly after moving into the house. I was worried about my dad needing more exercise and I thought a dog would be the perfect solution for all of us. I was getting litter at Pet Smart and Cody was there from the Jefferson Humane Society. He had a beautiful smile and just seemed so happy to have people talking to him and giving him pats and the occasional treat. I called my dad and had him come see Cody before they left to go back Jefferson. It was meant to be. Sadly, his previous owner had done nothing for training beyond his ability to kind of sit. It had also been reported that his mother stepped on one of his back feet when he was a puppy and crushed the bones. Our vet x-rayed his foot and said there were no bones at all. Needless to say, a bum foot in a very hyper dog was a difficult combination. We wanted to walk him enough to tire him out so we could begin training, but couldn't walk him too much without his foot bleeding. His tail had also never been docked. While I would have let him keep it, it was a leathal weapon. In the end we had to have it docked for his safety and ours. Welts on our legs (faces if we got too low at the wrong moment) and once the skin started breaking on his tail, our kitchen looked like a brutal murder had taken place. (I'm sure if you used a black light you'll still find evidence. *No one has been murdered in my house since we've lived here.) I had just taken him for a nice long walk a couple of weeks ago. We used the long leash. (More room to sniff and explore.) I'm not sure exactly what is happening with him. It's just a bad feeling I have. My second dog. Ever. I love him. Even if he is the world's most annoying animal.
*Disclaimer in the event someone thinks otherwise.