… something that begins with W !!!

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I took my 11 year old dog to the groomers today.   He’s getting on in years … but he’s still full of energy and life.  He may sleep a little more than he used to, he might be a little more needy in his old age, but he’s a good dog.

Winston has been a gentle doggie since we first adopted him  He was taken away from his mother at 6 weeks of age – he had a hernia that need surgery – and it couldn’t wait any longer.  He was just 8 weeks when we adopted him .. and since I’ve been his surrogate mother .. there are times Winston thinks he’s human.  He certainly acts that way most of the time!

I was surprised when I received a phone call from Pet Smart .. the groomer was telling me that while she was bathing Winston, the toes on all four of his paws got caught on the grid that lines their bathing sinks.  He was panicking – she was trying to help release him – and he bit her.  Hard.  He broke the skin.

Winston has NEVER been aggressive in his entire little doggie life.  He is afraid of the cat.  He’s afraid of water.  He’s afraid of other dogs.  He LOVES people .. and he would NOT hurt anyone out of aggression.  He was defending himself in a time of panic.  Pet Smart’s policy on bites is to send the employee to the Doctor for treatment.  So, I decided to take Winston to the vet to make sure the groomer hadn’t broken his toes.  And to make sure he had a clean bill of health in the event Pet Smart called back to say the groomer had an exotic disease only obtained from dog bites.  Winston is old .. he has a bad knee .. but he’s otherwise perfectly wonderful health wise.

About half an hour ago … maybe it was an hour .. I don’t know because I’ve been in a panic ever since.  I got a call from Orange County Animal Control.  They are coming over tonight to “evaluate the dog”.  He’ll have to be put on “house quarantine” – because he bit someone.  It’s “all standard procedure ma’am – you have nothing to worry about.”

Well – as soon as I hung up the phone I started to hyperventilate.  I could tell a full fledged panic attack was coming on.  All I could think of was getting the house perfectly spotless before Animal Control shows up.  They need to see that I’m a good pet owner .. and that Winston is a good dog.  Because I swear to god if they try to take my dog away from me there is going to be HIGH DRAMA in the Willo Keays household.  I very rarely get angry .. when I do .. watch out.

I flew around the house.  I vacuumed, I cleaned toilets, I picked up dog toys, I cleaned the cat litter box, I even :: gasp:: made my bed!  I feel like Child Services is coming over to judge me.  I feel like my doggie is being marched to his death sentence.  Did I mention HE’S ELEVEN YEARS OLD!  He wouldn’t survive being put in a cage.  I know what happens to doggies when they go to Animal Control … they kill them.  They kill innocent doggies every single day.  Hundreds of them.

They’re not going to get my dog.   They’re going to have to take me away with him.

Update:

Animal Control just left – well – shes sitting in my driveway taking notes. Winston {my dog} is quarantined to home for 10 days – no leaving the house – even to go in our fenced back yard unless he is on a leash. He’s not to have contact with anyone outside the family.

I had her note that I’m on-call for Federal Jury Duty this week and next – and if I get called up I’ll have to have SOMEONE watch him .. either a boarder or a pet sitter.

I mentioned my concerns with PetSmarts grid system in their bathing area – and asked what I could do to prevent others dogs from injury. She is going to stop by there tomorrow and inspect the area. Winston at one point got up – whined loudly and started limping. {he has an old knee injury}. The AC officer noted the limp in her notes.

What was noteworthy is – the person in the AC report has a different name. The AC officer called her “York” and the name on her name badge – and what the others were calling her – is “Montana.” It might be that Montana is her nickname? I just found it interesting.

In 10 days Health Services will come out and look at Winston. If he looks healthy they’ll sign off on the quarantine and we’re good to go.

I swear my pets can tell time.  No … don’t laugh at me!!  They really and truly can!  Here … let me explain.

Every morning, about five minutes BEFORE my alarm is set to go off, the cat meanders into my room MEOWING at the top of her little lungs.  She feels it’s her duty to remind me that it’s time to get up.  If I don’t pay attention to her, she jumps onto the bed, swats the dog, then sits on top of my chest and stares me in the face, giving me one giant MEOW.  If I continue to ignore her, AND I hit the snooze button on my alarm, she them moves over to my nightstand and proceeds to swat at the cords hanging down from the lamp making them CLING CLANG on the side of the lamp.  Yep … who needs alarm clocks when you’ve got Soli Cat in the house?

I’ve been spending a lot of time on my computer the last few weeks.  I had been organzing my new office, looking for a job, trying to get the BL League web site to work, and playing a game called Civilization.  almost every day, my dog has come in at 11:30am, 3:00pm, 6:00pm and 11:30pm to remind me that it’s either time for his excursion in the back yard, it’s time for his dinner, or it’s time for bed.  This last one is important to him apparently.  For if I ignore the 11:30pm bed time whine, I get scratched on my leg, and then I get a smelly, grumpy dog up on my lap licking my face as if to say “Smooch!  Here’s your goodnight kiss – let’s go to bed!”

I’ve tried to get him to wander upstairs on his own .. but he’s still got the torn ligament in his knee and it’s difficult for him to jump on the bed on his own.  So he waits for me to lift him up on the bed.  I could go upstaris, get him settled, and come back down again.  BUT NO!  He then sits at the top of the stairs and whines until I come up again.

I think the pets are in cahoots to make sure I get enough sleep … but just not too much!

They say that over time dogs and their owners start to look alike. But no one ever told me that over time dogs and owners mimic each other in other ways as well. The joy of my life is Sir Winston J. Puppydog – Earl of all Puppydom. Or as we like to call him – Winston. He’s really the source of all laughter in the household these days – a truly comedic little dog. He’s part Cairn Terrior and part Shi-Tzu. So his appearance is that of a larger – long haired Toto … or a Grey version of Benji. When we adopted him as a puppy he was jet black … but as he grew older his fur went grey with undertones of brown. He’s really the cutest dog you’ll ever meet – and no one can resist his fuzzy face wherever we go. He’s a people magnet – they love him.

A few days after my husband passed away, Winston had an injury to his knee. The initial diagnosis was a strain with a touch of arthritis. There was no need for x-rays and over time the limp went away. Just a few weeks ago though, he reinjured his knee. I at first thought he had stepped on another acorn when I saw him hobble in – but no. There was nothing stuck in his paw. I said to myself – it’s just his arthritis acting up. We’ll wait and see what happens. The limp went away and he was back to normal until Tuesday hit – he came inside hobbling again. I decided to give it a few days to see if it would heal itself – but this morning as I watched him running after the squirrels on three legs I knew I had to bring him to the vet.

I like this new guy – Dr. Bayer at Hunter’s Creek Animal Hospital. He’s always been kind and taken the time to listen to me {I tend to babble}. He gave Winston a good check – and felt something odd with the knee – it was looser than it should be. I suggested taking an x-ray – and he agreed. They x-rayed Winston’s hips as well as the knee. The good news is there is absolutely no signs of arthritis! woo hoo! The bad news is – Winston has torn the ligament in his knee. Just like his owner – me. I guess it was Fate’s plan for us to hobble into old age together!

We could try surgery to fix the knee – but at Winstons age it’s pretty risky. So we’re doing what I opted for myself – medication and time. He’s taking an anti-inflammatory and he’s to take it as easy as possible through the next month. Which means no rough housing, no walkies, no playing fetch, and certainly no chasing him around the house when he steals a sock. It’s very possible he’ll hobble like this the rest of his life due to discomfort – as will I. But as long as he’s not in pain I’m OK with that. The alternative is an invasive surgery that may or may not work – and could possibly cause more problems. My poor little doggie!

Now … on to a Dog of another type .. from myPlease Login or Register to see the link.. This one is not the friendly variety – he’s a human in Sales. That’s right – I’m talking about the lowest of the low … a Home Builders Sales person. I was going over this afternoon to put in an offer on an inventory home that I loved. I made the decision late yesterday afternoon – after thinking it over for a week – and My own Realtor called and set up an appointment with our Pulte sales person – we were scheduled to meet at 3:00pm today to make the offer. This morning the Pulte sales person let her boss – we’ll call him BUD** – know that we were coming in and was quiet happy that she had made a sale. She left the office on some errands to pick up their office supplies for the week – and when she arrived back Bud was just finishing up the paperwork with another couple whom he sold my house to. Talk about a slimy – low brow move to make. If you’re in the housing market in Orlando FL – stay far away from Bud at the Pulte homes model office at Berkshire Park – his actions make him the epitome of the sleazy used car salesman – IMHO.

**Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent