Last Night

Petey managed to stay in the bed without falling out last night.  He and I (Lori) went to bed first like we virtually always do.  He likes to get way down under the cover at about my midsection.  He was on his side with his paws facing me and apparently had a bad case of RLS.  I couldn't take the constant pitter-patter of little paws on my back.  I decided my best course of action was to move to the other side of the bed and work it out with John later.

I got up, walked around the bed, and got back in on the other side.  That way Petey's back would be next to me.  I could even snuggle against it because he has soft fur.  That worked for about 2 seconds.  I didn't time it, so I can't be sure.  As soon as I got settled, Petey flipped over so that those pointy paws were jabbing me repeatedly every few seconds.

I thought about getting back up and going back to my rightful side but then realized that I was a human and Petey was a dog.  He should be the one adjusting not me.  Just about the time I had that thought, he decided to move. He moved so that his head was on the pillow and out from under the cover but his body was still covered like people do. I had to laugh.  He doesn't know he's a dog.

Petey Fell Off the Bed

Last night about 11:45, as I lay dreaming, Petey fell out of the bed.  I felt him move, heard a yelp and then a thud.  I got up to check on him but he'd already high-tailed it out of the room.  Apparently, hugely embarrassed.  I found him in the living room on his brown pillow.  I felt of him and didn't feel anything out of place.  He decided to go out, which I thought was a good idea.  I watched him walk to the door and down the steps with no problem.  He scampered across the driveway, took care of business and came back up the steps.  No harm done.  He spent the rest of the night in the living room.  No harm done there either. The reason I am posting this is because of the dream I happened to be having at the time of the incident.

John and I were walking through a lovely landscaped area in northern Alabama.  There were lots and lots of pink crepe myrtles that were planted in a very artistic way.  He was lamenting that they shed so much and were hard to care for properly.  I was concerned for my shoes.  The area where we walked was not paved, but just lawn and my heels were sinking as I was wearing my favorite pair of dress shoes.  As we walked along, we realized that we were in a Civil War cemetery.  We began to look at the various monuments and headstones only to learn that this particular graveyard was for cats!  Yes, CATS!  Just about the time I realized where we were, I felt the move, heard the yelp followed by the thump. 

Anybody else think Petey knew what I was dreaming and was upset?  He certainly would not like me dreaming about cats, even dead ones.  Creepy, huh?

Petey, the Toddler

I have likened Petey to a toddler many times in this blog.  His selective hearing, need to be first, and general 'my way or the highway' attitude have all been discussed here.  Yesterday, I was reminded of another toddler like behavior that I don't think has been mentioned.  Be forewarned this is one of those subjects that isn't discussed in polite company.  That is Petey won't poop in front of us.

This is not a new behavior, but is just happened again and made me realize I don't think I've mentioned it before.  Much like a toddler hides to poop so does Petey.  Petey still goes outside, but he won't let us see him. 

Yesterday afternoon I let him out.  Since I was in the middle of something, I just opened the door for him and went back to finish what I was doing.  Then I went outside.  Initially, he had his back turned but I could tell he was doing the 'poop walk.'  I won't go in to detail.  I'll just say I recognized what was happening so I kept my distance.  For some reason he turned around.  He locked eyes with me and immediately stopped. 

I knew I'd messed up, so I told him I'd go around the corner of the house and wait.  It was too late.  He'd dashed behind the garage where I couldn't see him.  I did not follow because I knew what was going on and I didn't want to be the cause of any digestive upset caused from holding it too long.

In a bit, he came trotting up with a look of innocence on his face.  I think he thinks we don't know that he poops.  Whatever, I don't care.  As long as he keeps it outside.

Petey and the Vet

I (Lori) took Petey to the vet today.  He's been sort of lethargic lately and then the last couple of days has been having trouble walking.  He has a heart murmur so we've been warned to watch for the lethargy.  He also has arthritis in his back 'hip' joints.  We felt like the two things had flared up on him at once and he needed some help.  I mean really, the dog wasn't even grumpy.  It was like it was just too much trouble for him to get upset.

We were quite concerned.  We speculated as to what the prognosis would be and what sort of tests and/or procedures would be required.  We had that hard conversation about just how much time the old fellow had left and should we go for quality of life over quantity of years.  It wasn't a good evening, but it was a conversation that needed to happen.

I was alone to take Petey to the vet.  I was surprisingly calm about the whole thing.  I told Petey that we were going to the vet and the vet would make him feel better.  He let out a heavy sigh and wouldn't look at me in the car.  As if, he really knew what I said, but did not agree.  I also suggested that he behave but he was already ignoring me.  When we got there he would not get out of the car.  I had to carry him in.  He was a trembling mess when it was our turn to go back to the exam room.

On the exam table, it seemed that the important thing for him to do was to bury his head under my arm.  That was fine with me and the assistant.  As long as he was calm, we were OK.   He went willingly with her to the scale.  She had him walk so she could observe him.  It may be he thought she was taking him out of there.  Who knows?

They returned with the vet and another assistant.  I figured someone had read his chart and knew that the real Petey would show up any minute and reinforcements would be needed.  I suggested a muzzle since Petey had been snippy with us a time or two when we tried to check on his hips.  I also offered to leave,thinking he might behave a little better.  They agreed to the 'party hat' as the vet called the muzzle but said I should stay.

The assistant held Petey and the vet started her exam.  The second person merely observed and I answered questions as they arose.  Petey calmly stood and let the vet do her thing while casting woeful glances my direction.

Soon enough the exam was over and there was no request for x-rays or other extreme medical tests.  No discussion of end of life scenarios.  Even his heart murmur was the same as before.  It seems Petey has a type of worm caused most likely from swallowing a flea.  We were given some medication and sent home.

Petey was as good in the car on the way home as he has ever been in his whole life! I even went through the drive thru at the bank and he didn't mind.  (She didn't give him one of those nasty treats either, probably because she couldn't tell he was in the car.)  I gave him the medicine as soon as we got home.  He had a nice nap and now he's scurrying through the house like a young pup.

I have to shake my head at all of us.  John and me for thinking he was near death and Petey for acting like he was near death.  You'd think we'd learn.  We've lived with Petey long enough to know he's the drama dog.  Such is life with Petey.