Archive: Dogarazzi

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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I am pleased to report that Ted is completely trained on our invisible fence! He doesn’t stray anywhere near the boundaries of our yard for fear of being zapped, and putting the collar around his neck usually induces a somewhat mellow mindset in him. Most recently, Ted has loosened up enough about the fence that he scampers around, footloose and fancy-free without being scared. Best of all, he has the whole yard at his disposal, and he doesn’t get shushed for petty misdemeanors like chewing the magazine rack, scratching at the carpet, or getting into the baking supplies. In short, the invisible fence is a godsend for all parties involved.

Last week, JG had to attend his school’s sports banquet to give out an award, and I was home alone with Ted. Sometimes, solo sessions with the dog are really rewarding and sweet, but at other times, he can be a royal pain. After I got home that afternoon, I took Ted on a really long walk through the neighborhood to tire him out, but I knew that wouldn’t be enough for him to sit patiently on the couch with me. If I was able to catch him singlehandedly, I may have let him roam around the house while I ate dinner, but the fact is that Ted is a darn fast devil, and he understands that I do not have the stamina nor the agility to outsmart him. My solution was to walk Ted around the house on his loose indoor leash during the short time it took me to warm up my dinner, and then take the food out back. I collared up Ted and let him loose, and a fallen branch kept him occupied while I sat in my Crazy Creek chair, ate my leftover penne, and read The New Yorker.

After my leisurely meal, I chased Ted around the yard, and he ran circles around me at breakneck speed. Twenty minutes passed, and the little guy was so tuckered out that he did not protest one bit when I hooked the leash on him so I could take everything inside. Back in the house, I plopped Ted on his blanket, and settled in to the coveted corner seat of the sectional. My right hand held my magazine, and my left stroked a quiet, content Ted, who dozed off until he heard the sound of JG’s key in the lock. Instead of the possible hyperactivity and frazzle that can come from these nights alone, JG came home to a calm dog and wife, thanks to our outside playtime.

Recently, after he had just mowed the lawn, JG took Ted out to run around because the short grass would be so nice. He loves watching the dog tear around the yard because Ted angles himself into the tight turns with his little legs blurring under his body. Plus, Ted needed to learn how to fetch a Frisbee at some point, right? Sprinting on the freshly-cut grass yielded a surprising result: green paws! Hilarious.

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While JG and I were at his parents’ house over the weekend, Ted enjoyed the fenced-in area around the in-ground pool immensely. He chased after pool golf balls, lounged under our lounge chairs, and became my father-in-law’s shadow during chores like cleaning out the filter. When there was a lull in the action, and everyone was too busy reading or napping to give him active attention, Ted stared at the pool as though in deep thought. We joked that he was considering taking the plunge, but he never dove in on his own. Terriers are more suited to digging and burrowing (the breed name comes from terra, earth), but it’s not out of the ordinary for them to take to water. Call it pursuing a scientific experiment, catering to our own amusement, or taking advantage of the dog, but JG decided to see how Ted managed in the water.

JG sat on the steps of the pool and lowered Ted onto the first step, where the water came halfway up his legs. Ted was tentative at first, and he didn’t make much noise or move too quickly, except for a few curtailed sips at the chlorinated water. Eventually, the shock wore off and he flashed a big, goofy grin. My best guess is that, since Ted does not like hot weather, he realized that the water cooled him off, and was not all that frightening.

Then, in the second step of the experiment, JG nudged Ted out into the open sea. I witnessed a moment of panic, flailing, and splashing, and JG grabbed Ted and plopped him back on the concrete platform. Ted skittered away and shook out his coat, as though peeved to be subjected to the indignity of being tossed into the pool. He recovered nicely and spent the rest of the day playing, but JG firmly believes that if he had been able to go into the water with Ted, there might not have been so much panic. I’m sure there is another experiment in the works to confirm or refute this hypothesis.

In other news, I think we witnessed a bit of “the power of the pack,” as Cesar Millan would say. My in-laws’ dog, a rescued terrier mix named Watson, is a rather nervous, territorial dog with a penchant for loud barking, and he has never liked Ted. When we introduced them last Thanksgiving, Watson growled and lunged to bite Ted on the neck. Even though he didn’t draw any blood, it was very scary, and the two dogs have been kept apart ever since. Over the weekend, though, Watson and Ted came to an agreement: Ted wouldn’t go after Watson’s food or hog his people’s laps, and Watson would attempt to romp and play without biting. My mother-in-law kept exclaiming that “Watson made a friend!” and it was hilarious to watch Ted run circles around the older dog. Unfortunately, the action was too quick for me capture photographic evidence. For his part, Ted had no chewing issues while we were away, and we would like to think that that was due in part to Watson’s influence. I think that Ted liked having a playmate other than JG and me, for once. Judging from his enthusiasm in greeting guests and other dogs on walks, one would think that we never play with him at all.

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This week, we made a discovery that was none too surprising after our recent birthday celebration: peanut butter upsets Ted’s stomach. Sigh.

I met a friend for dinner the other night, and JG filled the little Kong toy with peanut butter in an effort to pacify Ted’s need to chew. Our magazine holder is no match for Ted’s teeth, and it’s hard to distract him from a particularly tasty piece of wood, so JG went with the peanut butter. When I got home, I took over Ted duty and we watched the DVRed second hour of the season finale of House. In the last ten minutes of the episode, Ted became very quiet, and I heard the stomach grumble of impending doom. My own stomach lurched, and I pressed my hand to my mouth and looked away.

Thankfully, JG’s stomach is not as weak as mine, and he monitored Ted while I was busy turning green. I held Ted afterward (again!) while JG found a replacement towel for the couch blanket. My own disgust aside, the situation wasn’t so bad. I’m a little disappointed that Ted can’t handle peanut butter, but if nothing else, my insistence that he sits on a blanket while on the couch has been strongly reinforced by the, uh, evidence. The upset stomach explained the lack of eating that day and the heightened crankiness and chewing. Really, it’s just good that we know now about the peanut butter intolerance. And that I would be completely useless if some child were to be sick in my presence.

I handled Ted very gingerly afterward, fearing any aftershocks of stomach tectonics, but he appeared to be fully recovered. In Ted’s book, there’s not much that a tummy rub doesn’t fix, I guess.

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