Tag Archives: dogs

The Keller dogs’ story about their bad human and horrifying vet visit

23 Jan
The moment of panic when Macy and Charlotte realized their pet human was up to no good.

The moment of panic when Macy and Charlotte realized their pet human was up to no good.

 

Macy and Charlotte loved being human-owners. Their humans fed them yummy meals and played with them, and as a reward, Macy and Charlotte would let their pets sleep beside them at night.

All that ended yesterday thanks to the alpha female human.

The dogs knew she had taken those little pink and white pills, and the drugs make her do the unconscionable. When the female is under the influence of what she calls “allergy medicine,” she likes to load Macy and Charlotte into the giant wheeled box that has crushed crackers, stray Skittles and empty juice boxes on the floor. That in and of itself is actually quite delightful because it gives the two a gourmet buffet of snacking opportunities. However, the drugged female used the box to take them to a place of horrors. A place where dogs are subjected to the most unspeakable indignities. A place where cats are allowed to roam freely. A place where you think they are politely trying to sniff your butt only to discover they have inserted a cold plastic thermometer or a highly uncomfortable scooper.

As Macy and Charlotte sat in the waiting room, their human seemed at peace. She didn’t sneeze or wheeze when a – cat walked by. Macy, the older dog, tried to wiggle away.

“Ooh, do we get to chase the cat? Is it time to play?” the younger Charlotte excitedly asked. “Is it time to play? I really wanna play. Let’s play!”

“Noooo!” Macy whined as she pulled harder. “I’m trying to get away before they take us back to The Room. Don’t you remember The Room?”

“Nope, I don’t remember this place,” said Charlotte as she glanced out the window. “Ooh, squirrel!” The alpha female always said it was good that God made Charlotte pretty.

Alas, it was too late. Another human emerged from The Room and called for Macy and Charlotte. Macy took the time to show her displeasure by peeing on her human’s lap. Charlotte, who firmly believes no one should pee alone, did the same.

They were taken to The Room, and the other human began to say sweet things to Charlotte.

“Oh, I like her! I like her very much,” Charlotte said as the other human picked her up. She enthusiastically licked the other human’s face and tasted waffles. Very nice. However, the human began heading out a back door, and Charlotte became afraid. The pee came naturally this time. Macy grunted at her ward’s ignorance.

The male human they called “The Vet” entered the room for Macy. Alpha female placed Macy up on the examining table, and Macy felt his cold hands all over her body. He looked at her eyes and her teeth, stuck a cold cone into her ears, pulled at her hips and then felt him press on her internal organs. More pee.

Macy desperately tried to use the alpha female as a shield, but she could not escape. She whimpered her distress, but her female would not make eye contact with her. The other human walked back into the room with a visibly shaken Charlotte in one hand and the pointy cylinders of doom in another.

“RUN!” Charlotte cried out. “She’s going to put something in your rear end! She’s going to steal your poo! RUN!”

Too late again. The other human scooped Macy into her arms and took her out of the room. Charlotte put on her best brave face and tried to lick The Vet so he would let her go. No such luck. He examined her just as he had done with Macy, and then he grabbed a few of the pointy things and plunged them into Charlotte’s skin. Charlotte yelped and whimpered. The alpha female picked her up and held her close.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked her human. “Why did you let them do that to me?”

Macy re-emerged a few moments later with an obvious change in her walk. The Vet plunged the remaining pointy things into her skin and then left the room. In disgust, Macy rolled her eyes at both Charlotte and the alpha female.

The alpha female reattached Macy’s leash to her collar and placed Charlotte back in the kennel. Another human brought them dog treats, which were quickly gobbled up. The dogs liked her better than the other humans.  The people made small talk, passed a plastic card back and forth, and then the alpha female took Macy and Charlotte back to the wheeled box.

No one said a word on the way home, but Macy and Charlotte were secretly thinking about their revenge. As fate would have it, their opportunity came quickly. The plastic scooper and its lubricant apparently did much more than the silly humans expected, and both dogs freely allowed their bowels to explode inside the wheeled box. The alpha female shrieked in horror.

“Bwa ha ha,” Macy sinisterly laughed. “Bad human.”

I’m tired of my youngest’s crappy attitude

2 Nov
Charlotte

Dog shaming didn’t work, she chewed the sign. It read, “My poop blends in with the rug. I am responsible for two carpet cleanings this week.”

This is my youngest, the one responsible for the recent Come to Jesus Meeting. I had hoped our little talk would have changed her behavior, but she just took crappy attitude to an entirely new level.

World, meet Charlotte. She is 11-months-old, and she is either an evil genius or lucky idiot.

She learned how to open cabinets by scratching the door edge with her paws and then slipping her nose into the opening. Her favorite cabinet, until yesterday, was the one that held the feminine hygiene products.  Her new skill yielded new maxi-pad chew toys for her, and it was rather difficult to pry an Always-With-Wings from her fur after she managed to tear off the tape strip.

Yesterday she  discovered a new favorite cabinet in our laundry room. It’s the one that holds the dog treats.

Yesterday was a very, very crappy day in my personal life. I had to deal with a lawyer who could have benefited from his own Come to Jesus Meeting  – or exorcism – or one of those “we gotta hold this one down a bit longer” kind of church baptisms. (Please, a human soul is at risk here!)

When it was over, I needed to lower my blood pressure, and research shows that stroking a pet can bring the heart rate and stress hormones back down to a normal level. I called Charlotte. No response. I looked in her bed. Not there. I then began to hear her whimper, and I hit panic mode as I followed the sound throughout the house. It led me to the laundry room, but Charlotte was nowhere to be seen. I called her again, and then I realized the sound was coming from behind the closed cabinet door. As I opened the door, I found her sitting in the dark cabinet with a very distended belly and Milkbone crumbs all over the  floor.

Her binge eating didn’t bother me at the time. I needed to cuddle with a furry baby or else I was going to explode. The puppy time worked, and I was soon able to take my son trick-or-treating. We returned home a few hours later and went straight to bed.

I got the kids to school in the morning and then returned home to grade student papers. I was greeted by an unbelievable stench that smelled like yesterday felt. It didn’t take long to find the source — Charlotte had exploded Milkbones all over my dining room floor. There were big piles and little piles and a thin brown trail that led to even more surprises in the hallway.

I grabbed a box of tissues and began to clean up the digestive carnage.  I know you shouldn’t discipline a dog for accidents unless you catch them doing it, so I growled under my breath. Charlotte followed me from pile to pile, her tail wagging the entire time. It was almost as if she was proud of her accomplishment. When I finished, she brought me her favorite toy, crawled up in my lap and licked my face.

I have got to do something about this crappy attitude.

How I plan to get rid of backyard mice

1 May

I love Rick because he kills all the things that terrify me.

Rick is my pest control guy. He has been there when I lost my mind over flying ants coming out of my shower drain. He was there when I refused to come outside because wasps were making a nest on my front porch. And Rick is my ally once again as I face a group of turbo mice that are tormenting my dogs and making me want to carry a broom with me wherever I go.

We moved into a new house a few weeks ago. The prior owner was an amazing gardener, and our backyard looks like something out of Southern Living magazine with beautiful flowers, rosebushes and gorgeous tree-like stuff that I can’t identify. I love the yard, but I wondered why my dogs would constantly disappear behind the back section of tree-like stuff and emerge covered in frustration and dirt. It was as if someone stashed terrier cocaine back there.

It was mice – nature’s terrier cocaine.  About two weeks after moving in, my husband saw the first one running along the wooden beam of our fence post. I saw one the next night running along another part of the fence. We called Rick.

Rick came the next day and set up bait boxes in our yard. According to my understanding, the  boxes are like a little mouse McDonald’s drive-thru. The mice run in through a little hole, grab some McPoison and run out another hole – all within 90 seconds or they get free fries. The box is designed so that my dogs cannot get to the poison. (Hooray! We had an emergency vet visit several years ago when our older dog ate rat poison. Her belly turned a funky shade of black, but she bounced back after the vet shot her up with vitamin K.)

Rick also pointed out some potential mouse breaking and entering points to our home.

“You see those little spaces by your garage door?” he said to my husband. “They can squeeze through there and then get into your car.”

Here’s another creepy mouse factoid. Did you know that one pair of mice can have 40 babies in one year, and females are capable of having babies at only 8-weeks-old?

It’s been a few days, and according to mouse breeding statistics, the fence runners have conceived at least 20 babies behind my backyard’s rosebushes. I’m not sure the bait boxes are working. Both my husband and I saw mice running along the fence posts last night. However, I had a moment of inspiration.

“You know how they grease the poles  in New Orleans to keep drunks from climbing on them during Mardi Gras?” I asked my husband. He nodded cautiously.

“Let’s smear baby oil and Vaseline all over the fence,” I said to him. “That way the mice won’t be able to climb on it, and they’ll slip and fall to the ground where the dogs can get them.”

“Do you really want the dogs to eat the mice?” my husband replied. Notice that he didn’t discount my idea to turn my fence into a deadly Slip-n-Slide. I consider that an endorsement.

“Or maybe we can grind up some mouse birth control pills and scatter them around the yard?” I added.

No response. Another endorsement.

Rick is supposed to come back next week to check the bait boxes. That gives me a few days to figure out how I am going to explain to him why there are greasy mice and powdered estrogen scattered throughout my yard.

This diagram shows the locations where my mouse fight will take place.

This diagram shows the locations where my mouse fight will take place.

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