It’s Not All Mary Poppins

Three, two, one… PUPPY EXPLOSION!!!

Remember how pathetic Daisy looked after her Big Procedure? How limp and floppy, how droopy and sad? Well, it’s been a week now.

A week of wearing The Cone.

A week of short, on-leash walks.

A week of a SERIOUSLY UNDER-EXERCISED PUPPY.

She is no longer limp, floppy, droopy or sad. She has not been that way since, oh, 50 hours after surgery.

It’s only been a week since she had a hysterectomy. And if she were HUMAN, she might just be considering creeping carefully from room to room in the house. But she’s not human! She’s a PUPPY! And so, as far as she’s concerned, she is FINE, just FINE — and has been, since about 50 hours after surgery.

She has NO IDEA why we make her wear that damned cone, of course, but even worse… why won’t we let her run? and play? and frolic with the other dogs? Why, why, why?

I am not totally cruel. Each day’s walk gets a little longer, of course. But she is getting maybe a third of her customary level of RUNNING and BOUNDING and BOUNCING and LEAPING and PLAY-PLAY-PLAY-PLAYING!!!!

She is, to put it mildly, a little antsy.

She’s begun having these moments of total frenzy in the house. Not aggression, just frenzy.

MUST BOUND!!!

And she bounds, in great sproings, from one end of the house to the other. This takes her about four and a half sproings. The half, because she hits the wall, either in the kitchen (north end) or the front hall (south).

MUST LEAP!!!

And she springs onto and off the couch, madly. Books, magazines, socks, iPods go flying. If someone is sitting on the couch, no problem, she will just SPRING ON YOU!!! And a cone-armed puppy comes flying into your face and then off again, in a flurry of fur, tail, and claws.

If you’ve ever interacted with a puppy with a cone, you’ll know why “armed” is the word of choice. She has only the vaguest of notions of the edges of that thing, so when she leaps at you (head-first, of course), you get the edge of the cone, a thin, semi-rigid plastic edge, driven into your face, your arm, your leg. Ouch.

MUST PLAY!!!

And poor, quiet, gentle Indie finds herself the victim of a flurry of cone-armed chewing. Her neck, her legs, her entire body bears the assault of a mad tail-wagging, desperate for OUTLET puppy. Indie usually rolls onto her side while Daisy pounces all over her head, and moans. Mournfully. “Won’t someone please rescue me from this idiot? Pleeeeeeease?”

MUST RUN!!!!

And she races, races, races from one end of the house to the next, catching walls, doorframes, books, furniture, people with that cone. Things fall down. Things get knocked over. Things rattle on the walls. People duck and run. (And she only weighs 8 kg. One can only imagine the destruction caused by a large exercise-starved puppy. Eesh.)

The stitches come out Saturday. I’ll be there Bright and Early.

Three more days…

September 7, 2011 Posted by | the dog | , , , , , , | 3 Comments

As the light fades

… the carb craves rise.

GOOD LORD. It’s turned winter. No, no snow, but it’s chilly out there.

Even as I type, I laugh at myself. In three months, 0 (Celcius, of course; 32F for you global hold-outs), even with a windchill of -4, will feel positively balmy. Today, however, today it feels chill.

doritosBut we went out, because I am a Good Caregiver. Good Caregivers ensure that their charges get Fresh Air and Sunshine every day. Our outing had nothing — nothing, I say! — to do with those Doritos I’ve been craving all week. It was merest coincidence that we were two-thirds of the way to the 7-Eleven when (in a rare burst of self-discipline where salty-fatty-crunchy carbs are concerned) virtue triumphed, and I turned around.

Turned around and returned home. Within six blocks of a salt-fatty-crunch-carb fix. Wow.

We meandered around the neighbourhood a bit, chatting about this and that before lapsing into companionable silence. Even Nissa was silent. Silent, and conscious. Wow. Never seen THAT before.

Then we returned home and I scarfted down a generous slab of the banana-walnut bread I baked early this morning. Damn you, carbs!

Thing is, though rife with carbs, banana bread is sweet and chewy, not salty and crunchy. Mmmm, salty crunch. 5000000 calories of banana bread, and I still want those Doritos.

dammit

October 23, 2009 Posted by | food, random and odd | , , , , , , , | 3 Comments