the dream life

Woody can talk, ya'll

Woody Can Talk from lorilyn on Vimeo.

He is not crying because he's upset; it's the anticipation. He does that all the way to the dog park but on the way home, he's completely calm. He says the word "yeah," here. You have to listen for it. Please excuse my baby talk voice. Mere moments after vowing to Woody that I was no longer going to baby talk him, I did it again. I guess it's something I'll have to work on. But, seriously. Our dog can talk human. Because he rocks and is awesome.

Today is Heywood's birthday

Our beautiful boy is four today.

Whispering

I have a new obsession and its name is Dog Whisperer. Up until a few weeks ago, the only animal shows to which we had access were the ones on Animal Planet. Now, we have National Geographic channel and I am completely and utterly addicted to watching Cesar do his thing.

At first, I thought his methods were going to seem harsh to me but now that I’m in his groove, I don’t really see it that way. He’s made me quite aware of how my energy influences Woody’s experience and I have vowed to make 2009 my year of calm assertiveness (Not just with Woody, but all the time because I can’t think of a situation for which “calm assertive” wouldn’t be in order).

He checks out

For all you Woody fans out there, the boy had his semi-annual check-up yesterday and he passed with flying colors. The doctor thought he could stand to drop a little weight, but that his fitness level was “pretty good for a pug.” His eyes looked good, his ears looked good, his heart sounded good, his teeth looked good.

When we first got there, he was a little nervous, which is unusual for him. He typically likes to go to the vet because everyone there loves him and he gets lots of attention. This time, he got a little shaky while he was waiting and when the doctor came in the examination room, Woody hid under the chair. Once his blood work was over, though, he seemed to relax and he took his shot like a champ.

Sleep is good work, if you can get it

On our recent car trip, Tracy and I were listening to a podcast that featured an animal psychic. Before he began taking calls, the psychic dispensed some general advice about dog-rearing. One of the things he mentioned is that when you leave the house, you should tell your dog where you’re going and when you’re going to be back and what you’d like the dog’s job to be while you’re gone.

Now, we don’t have problems with Woody when we leave him alone. What he does when we are away is, he sleeps. He doesn’t eat food. He just sleeps.

Woody's nightly ritual

Tracy has to put gel in Woody's eyes every morning and every night. Woody places one of his paws on Tracy's leg and calmly lets him do it. Once Tracy was out of town and the minute Woody saw me pick up the tube of eye stuff, he ran into the other room. It is only Tracy who is allowed to put in the eye medicine.

Clean and sparkly

Woody went to the groomer today. He loves to go to the groomer. He loves to go to the groomer almost as much as he loves to go to the dog park. Between the groomers’ dogs and the other groomees, he always has lots of playmates.

The back section of the salon (yes, he goes to a salon) is baby-gated, so Woody and his pals have space to run around until he finally gets so tired he falls asleep on the bathroom floor where he commences to snore so loudly he can be heard all over the building.

As far as we can tell, he doesn’t mind getting bathed and brushed and dried. It’s only the nail clipping he’d rather not endure, but he’s pretty good about it. Once, we arrived to pick him early and spied on him as he was getting his nails done. He expressed displeasure, but not so much that the groomer couldn’t easily do her job.

Releasing Woody to the care of others is not really my strong suit. We had an issue with another groomer who injured Woody then didn’t tell us about it. Luckily, we can communicate with our boy pretty well so soon after we picked him up from that place, we knew we’d never take him back. I was sorry though, that the incident had to happen at all.

When we found the groomers that we go to now, I pretty much laid everything out for them on the first day. I told them that I was obsessive about the pug, that I would ask them all sorts of insulting questions and make all kinds of unreasonable demands. Every time I see them, I remind them not to let Woody out into the lobby unless Tracy or I are there to monitor him. “We never do that,” they tell me kindly. “We never let dogs out into the lobby unless their owners are here,” but I just keep reminding them.

And this is what I like about our groomers. They don’t get ruffled by my insane over-protection or my unintentional insinuation that they might not be able to figure out how to keep my dog safe unless I constantly pester them with rules. In fact, they tell me they're glad I'm the way I am (that's good business right there) because it concerns them that some customers don't ask any questions about what will be going on with their dogs.

You must remember that I am the person to whom the vet sometimes has to say, “Please stop Googling things. Google did not go to vet school.”

I am also the person to whom Tracy once said, “Wow, you’re all about peace and love until you get to the dog park, but you will put the smackdown on people with aggressive dogs.”

I will and I do.

I’m not exactly level-headed and balanced when it comes to Woody. This is something about myself that I would like to change. Animals communicate psychically to one another, and to us. They can “see” the pictures in our heads, and I really do want Woody to see good things when he looks in my head – like visions of himself happy and healthy. I want him to feel like he can trust the people who are taking care of him even if those people aren’t us. I don't want him to know that there are groomers out there who drug dogs, but I do want him to know that if a groomer ever did try to drug him, he should spit the pill out, even if it's wrapped in peanut butter.

Parenting is tricky.

Note to self: use the coffee table

This is how Woody likes to spend his couch time:  

Cozied. Snuggled.

Tonight, he was lying next to me while we watched Juno, and he was sound asleep. What he did not expect was that I would reach for the water bottle that I'd balanced on the arm of the couch and accidentally douse him with water.

He was very unhappy about this turn of events.

He actually jumped up on the back of the couch to see if he could catch the criminal that had put water on him while he was asleep. He found the whole thing completely distressing. I apologized profusely, but I'm not sure he knows it was me. In fact, I think he was trying to warn me. I'm pretty sure he was trying to get me to move away from that section of the couch because, clearly, it was not safe.

Finally, he went down to the other end to lie down, but I don't think he'll soon forget about this little episode.

Woody sez

What ball?

 

I don't see no ball.

Conversation that just took place in my home

Me: Is your dog lovin on ya?

Tracy: He's giving me the cute eye.

This was the boy with the cute eyes just a few hours earlier desperately trying to tell me that whatever it was that I'd put in the oven was done and smelled delicious.

Reiki dog

Woody has had some digestive troubles this week. Several times he had to go out in the middle of the night, which is highly unusual as Woody really values a full night's sleep. It's been very stressful for him, trying not to "go" in the house. Thursday was a particularly rough day.

On Thursday night I woke to discover him sitting in the corner of the dark bedroom smacking his mouth. I took him out and he did his business but he was clearly distressed and worried about the fact that he didn't feel well. 

When I brought him back inside and put him on the bed, he refused to lie down and just sat there, smacking his mouth again. In the past, I'd tried to send Reiki to Woody only to have him back away from it, but since he was feeling out of sorts, I thought I'd try again.

I put my hands on his lower back and asked for the Reiki energy to flow. I felt it start up immediately. He responded, but he didn't move away. Within two minutes, he was stretched out, snoring.

He was much improved on Friday and the vet gave him a clean bill of health.

I'm glad to know that he's open to Reiki when he feels that he needs it.

Dog parking

This evening we decided to take Woody to our new favorite dog park. It has a big dog side and a small dog side, so he can play without fear of being knocked down by someone huge. It's also spacious with a brushy hill and a little trail that he likes to "hike".

When we arrived there were about six other dogs there and they were all super friendly. They welcomed Woody, tails wagging. They sniffed him and encouraged him to join their pack. Woody, however, just looked at them, like he wasn't sure what they were, then came over to stand with me and Tracy. 

Woody has always loved to play with other dogs and I was completely surprised that he didn't start running and yipping. The only thing I could come up with was that it had been so long since he'd had any dog socialization, he'd started to believe that he was a human boy and could no longer relate to other canines. 

We hiked with him on the hill and he was perfectly joyous,  

but I felt badly that he didn't want to join the other four leggers and talk about dog stuff. 

Finally, just before we left, he met up with a sweet little puggle named Taylor and they did some circle running. 

I guess we're going to make more of an effort to get him out there in the dog scene. 

Or maybe he's just a hike with mom and dad kind of guy.

Sunday fix

If at 5:17 p.m. on the Sunday of a three-day weekend you find that you've done not one thing that you hoped to do and that you're all out of sorts in general, a good solution is to buy a bunch of food, eat it outdoors, then take your boys to the dog park. For good measure, when you get back, grab your tiny book light and read in the way back of the dark yard.

Pin-up boy

I normally don't enter Woody into competitions, but this one benefits Kentuckiana Pug Rescue so, please go vote for Woody. He's #375. I chose this picture of him because of the front paw tuck in, which is one of my favorite pug moves.

Dark corner

Sometimes Woody looks at something that we can't see and barks at it ferociously, as if he can't believe we don't see the whatever it is, as if we've lost our minds for not jumping up and taking care of it, leaving him to protect us. Just now, he was asleep at the foot of the bed when he woke up, looked above the lamp on this bookcase

and really let something have it. I looked but couldn't see anything - no flying creature, no anything. After a while, he stopped barking, but he kept staring at that place.
I took the picture with my computer from across the room, so it's not stellar quality, but I still don't see anything. Do you?