Archive: Dogarazzi

JG and I are back from the beach, and we are up to our elbows in cleaning up the debris that comes with travel. While we are otherwise occupied doing loads of laundry, making a meal plan, restocking the fridge, acclimating Ted to a one-dog household after being at doggie summer camp, and getting dinner on the table, I will tie up a loose end that I know must have been bothering people with its lack of resolution.

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The results of Ted’s entry in The Cutest Pet Ever Contest, duh!

Before the end of the school year, JG brought home a big certificate from the Animal Rights Club:

Best hair, eh? As signified by a mangy horse? JG is unclear whether there was a grand prize for Cutest Pet Ever (as one might presume from the contest title), but if there was, Ted did not win it, despite the reported shrieks and giggles from the girls in JG’s classes. Harrumph.

But maybe the Animal Rights Club was trying to be diplomatic to the other animal entries. I mean, Ted’s certificate does say that he is the “most handsome pup around.” And how!

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Since Saturday, JG and I have been running a two-dog household. No, no, we didn’t adopt another dog, we’re just borrowing one! Our friends are away at the beach this week, so we’re watching their chubby, six-year-old cairn terrier, Quincy.

I used to be afraid of Quincy. When we went to our friends’ house, he’d run up to the door when we arrived, scratching and making a ruckus until he was physically removed and we could enter without a scuffle. But when I got a phone call from his panicked owner about how her sitters had canceled on her at the last minute, I conferred briefly with JG, who was going to be home anyway, and we agreed to take in Quincy, no problem!

Well. Last Saturday was a day for acclimation. While JG was mowing the lawn, Quincy gave me a scare by jumping up onto the half wall, the one that perches precariously over the stairwell, which may as well have been a yawning abyss. I was holding Ted at the time so as to minimize any conflict, but I didn’t want to scare Quincy into taking a flying leap. Then, Quincy began to slip on papers we had lying on the ledge, and I started to have a heart attack. Fortunately, he managed to find his way back to an armchair (where I believe his ascent began), and we did not have to make a trip to the veterinarian emergency room, wherever that is. As if I wasn’t scared enough, his owners had barely pulled away from our house fifteen minutes earlier. Way to go, team! I made quick work of moving the furniture away from that wall, and we have been plummet-free ever since.

Besides avoiding killing Quincy, my greatest accomplishment this week has been mastering the two-dog walk. At first, JG and I took Ted and Quincy out at the same time, with each of us with a dog, but they were so distracted by each other that they yanked us all over the place. Halfway through the walk, I suggested that I try to walk both dogs at once, like the “pack walk” that Cesar Millan demonstrates on The Dog Whisperer. Quincy pulls really hard on his leash if he sees or hears something exciting, so I put him on a short leash and corrected him every time he jerked at me, which was roughly every three steps. After a few minutes, though, he figured out what we wanted, and he and Ted walked on either side of me with little incident. However, each time I take out the dogs, Quincy has to re-learn the routine to a certain extent, but it has taken him less time as we’ve gone along. He has some excess poundage due to his lack of proper exercise and what seems to us to be an inflated feeding schedule, so I imagine that his compliance toward the end of walks is somewhat because of exhaustion, but I’ll take it. For his part, Ted has been a perfect walker this week, as if to show this upstart newcomer how it’s really done.

Nonetheless, having Quincy in the house has been amusing, at the very least. Although he is not a silent dog, he rarely barks, unless a truck has the gall to pass our house. Instead, he uses these guttural throat noises to express his displeasure, and I’ll be darned, but he sounds exactly like Chewbacca! Quincy has a strange way of sitting straight up on his haunches, not his hind legs, and he is as stable as on his four paws. Ted is good on his hind legs, but Quincy could be propped up like that indefinitely, or at least until he gives up hope that I will actually feed him a Goldfish cracker. Then there is the “yoga pose” Quincy assumes when the mood strikes, and he stays there for minutes at a time. I guess dogs’ backs need stretching, too.

Ted and Quincy got along reasonably well, I suppose. Quincy, although dopey, is quite the instigator. He would steal a toy of Ted’s and then take refuge with JG or me, leaving Ted very consternated, indeed. The two dogs ran around the house, chasing after a tennis ball or each other, and JG assured me that their play was normal, even though Quincy’s indignant Chewbacca sounds were evidence to the contrary. It was odd to have two leashes on the coat hooks, two crates in the basement, and two dishes of food on the floor, but the sound of eight paws rattling across the kitchen was rather cheerful. I suspect that it will be strangely quiet once Quincy’s owners come to pick him up in two days.

JG and I have discussed the possibility of getting another dog at some point in the future. I feel like we’ve got a better handle on training dogs, and I like the idea of Ted getting worn out by someone other than us. After this week of logistics and heightened alert, I think we are pretty set on keeping Ted as an only dog-child, and I bet he’s okay with that.

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Are you tired of pets whose only purpose seems to be covering your furniture with hair? What about those soggy walks in the rain? Or costly veterinarian bills?

They say that pet ownership pays off in unconditional love, but does that really help when you arrive at home after a long day at work? What you need then is a pet that will comfort you, offer you support, and pause in its demands on your time and energy. For that, I offer you the Pedi-Pet!

This soft, comfortable footrest is self-heated and surprisingly compliant, provided you have appeased it with a dog biscuit. The small model (shown above) may not be suitable for larger owners, but you can rest assured that there is a Pedi-Pet that’s right for you. As a lively addition to your decor, the Pedi-Pet will a great conversation piece and last for years!

Order your very own Pedi-Pet now — supplies are limited! Be sure to ask your operator about the Pedi-Pet Deluxe, which can double as a headrest! For once, let your pet repay you for your faithful guardianship as a Pedi-Pet. After all, you deserve it!

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There has been word on the street of a heat wave that just swept through the east coast, but I would like to note that this here site did not dwell on that. No, sir, yours truly made a significant step in personal growth by choosing not to focus on the sweltering heat and stifling humidity by griping about it, even though I would have loved waxing poetic on the unfairness of it all. Speaking of which, is it fall yet?

Um, anyway. Needless to say, it was not a hoot continuously sweating from the extreme heat index and the energy consumption of our wall-unit air conditioner. Usually, open windows and the ceiling fan are enough to keep us relatively comfortable, but they were no match for the past few days. Ted had a tough time dealing with the temperatures, and he was dead weight on our walks, even at 6:30 in the morning. His tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, he dragged his paws, and when he decided that he had had enough, he dropped onto the grass by the sidewalk, not budging another inch unless it was in the direction of home. Westies tend to be lethargic in hot weather, which is just another reason why Ted is a good fit for me, but his energy seemed to replenish as soon as he stepped into the cooler house. He bounced off the walls, running laps, chewing on the old couch, and getting hold of junk mail. Not being able to let him run around outside was clearly detrimental to Ted’s pent-up energy store and our waning sanity reserves.

At a loss for what to do, we finally caved and let Ted play Mario Kart on the Wii.

Okay, not really. We just propped him up with the controller for our own amusement, but look — I think the pictures show Ted’s stages in getting accustomed to the game:

1. Investigation
2. Concentration
3. Expertise
4. Triumph!

I have yet to try out Mario Kart on this new system, especially after my disappointing Guitar Hero debut, but my history with the game is less than victorious. I had never played before college, and a bunch of boys took the opportunity to drop me onto the Rainbow Road for my first try and laugh the whole, agonizing way through. I had zero finesse with the joystick thingie for steering, and I went careening off the side of the course constantly. I maintain that it was a low move, not that I am bitter or anything. I don’t think I have played the game since, except the one time I humored our friends’ kids, and even then, I lost! Honestly, I doubt Ted could do much worse than I can. I kind of wish that we could make Ted a Mii, but there aren’t any animal face options in the menu. Get on that, Nintendo!

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