Hygiene and The Bravery Role Reversal

Brave Baxter and Cautious Kirby have a complete role reversal when it comes to acts of hygiene. Kirby embraces the opportunity to be combed, bathed and tooth-brushed. He actually comes running and requires little or no coaxing to stick with it -- just the closeness to one of the alpha dogs seems enough for him to almost seem like he's enjoying the process.


Baxter, on the other hand, trembles at the mere mention of the word "bath." I'm not exaggerating. In fact, if one of us goes anywhere in proximity to the bathroom and says "Baxter," he'll run for his bed and lay there, visibly trembling, until he's dragged away by the collar.


This morning Baxter's dog breath seemed particularly pungent, so we decided it was time to brush the big guy's teeth. As my husband loaded up the special dog toothbrush with special dog toothpaste, he literally had to fight Kirby off.

Baxter hid under my desk, shaking like a leaf.

I finally wedged my leg behind him and managed to push him out into the open, where my husband sat, waiting with the toothbrush. It was an ordeal. I'm not sure Baxter's breath smells any better -- he hasn't even tried panting at me since the brushing... Hey, maybe we're onto something else here!

Bravery, Bluster and Territorial Expansion

Baxter has always been brave in the face of uncertainty. He faces whatever life throws at him with the unflappability and curiosity of a gun dog. When he sees a new person standing in the yard or walking toward him on the street, he walks right up to them quietly...not in a particularly waggy, friendly way, but rather in the spirit of investigation. When there's a loud noise, Baxter runs toward it -- whether it be thunder, a gun shot in the woods or me dropping a kitchen utensil. When we're in a new place, he's an intrepid explorer, running ahead of the pack (as far as we'll let him go), sticking his nose into every nook and cranny. Whenever a box is opened or a bag is unzipped, Baxter is there with his nose right in it. And, as I've mentioned before, every single birthday gift and holiday package we've sent over the past nine years has had Baxter nose hair stuck to the scotch tape.

Kirby is a whole different animal. Frequently, when we open the door to go outside, he exits the house with a deep woof, as if to tell the world "I'm Kirby, I'm tough and I just wanted to let you all know I've arrived." Yet, when he is surprised by a new person in the yard or a neighbor coming out their door, his first reaction is an alarm bark. Any loud noises at all (even just a loud clank of a spoon in an empty bowl) send Kirby under the sofa. If it's thundering outside, we literally have to drag him out from under the furniture to go out and do his business. He'd rather burst than go where the noise is. And I certainly don't have to tell you the reaction when the local air show a couple of weeks ago brought in some fighter planes who made their big turns over our house.

Given these very different approaches to the world, Brave Baxter and Cautious Kirby have very different approaches to going for a walk. Baxter will go anywhere and will pull you there, even if he doesn't know where he's going. Kirby, on the other hand, has definite territorial boundaries. Inside the boundaries he confidently pulls, runs, jumps and frolics as much as a dog can on the end of a leash. He's taken to marking the local trees and light posts and knows all the best sniffing spots. But once you cross his invisible territorial line, he's a different dog. We practically have to drag him down the street. He won't sniff, won't do his business and every passing thing, be it a person, car or squirrel, causes him to hide behind my legs.

So now I've taken to expanding Kirby's horizons -- trying new directions. Today, as Baxter was pulling me forward and Kirby was pulling me backward, I decided to put Baxter's leash through the loop of Kirby's, so I just held Baxter and all of Kirby's backpaddling balanced Baxter's forward lunging. It actually worked for a couple of blocks, enough so that Kirby and Baxter eventually ended up walking side by side gently in front of me.

We may be onto something here...

Dog Days

Nice article and video in the NY Times... what better way to illustrate the dog days of summer than with dogs?

Though I must add that our 100+ degree days seemed a distant memory as I donned a RAIN COAT to go to work today... Ok, the thunder the other night was cool and the rain was kind of refreshing. But I can't help feeling like those of us who live in the Pacific Northwest make a sort of deal with Mother Nature: we will put up with the seemingly endless drizzle for nine months, just for the privilege of having a perfect summer. For me, a perfect summer involves rain showers that last a few hours, maybe a day. Then bring on the sunshine. Oh, wait, at this very moment the sun is out AND it's raining. Ahhh, Mother Nature has a sense of humor...

Time flies. So does inspiration...

My inner blogger has been busy, my outer blogger has not. Over the past couple of weeks I've thought of at least a half dozen dog-related subjects to blog about, but I was never in a good place to write them down. Now, here I sit. Nada. Let it suffice to say, it's been a busy couple of weeks. We've had a surprise canine visitor, a new work schedule and some hot weather to contend with. And out of all this, when I finally find the time and inspiration, will come a few stories.

Just not at the moment.

So instead I'll share another Kirby birthday photo...

Happy 2nd Birthday, Kirby!

Yesterday, July 7, was Kirby's (estimated) 2nd birthday. I say estimated because when we adopted the little guy, they weren't really sure how old he was. Because all the puppies were so small and the mother was relatively so much bigger, I think they assumed the pups to be a bit younger than they actually were. The shelter said 10-11 weeks, but based on Kirby's teeth our vet said he was probably more like 12-14 weeks when we got him.

So we just picked a date around the time we figure Kirby's mother found a safe place on the wilds of a farm somewhere in Northern California to have her litter of little semi-feral puppies.

I'm a proponent of spaying and neutering pets. In the case of Kirby, however, I have to say I'm glad he found his way into the world and graced us with his sweet, bouncy little self.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KIRBY!

More Beach, More Friends

We finally got both Baxter and Kirby all bathed and smelling sweet after the last trip to the beach when some dear friends invited us out for another day of frolicking...this time with Baxter's old pal Phoebe, the Portuguese Water Dog.


While we humans enjoyed the company of both local and out-of-town friends, the three dogs had a terrific time chasing balls, retrieving sticks and romping in the surf.

Kirby and Baxter did their usual dismantling of my husband's driftwood beach sculpture (a tradition in our family)...
With Portys and Griffons both supposedly having retrieving talents in their bloodlines, one would have expected both Phoebe and Baxter to out-fetch Kirby. Well, when everyone saw the ball at the same time, the big dogs definitely got there first. But we couldn't help laughing on a few occasions when Baxter and Phoebe did their usual anticipatory run-out-in-front-to-get-a-head-start-on-the-ball routines only to be surprised when the the ball was thrown in a different direction.

Kirby, on the other hand, waited to see what direction the ball was thrown in, THEN he started after it, got a significant lead and proudly beat the big dogs to it. And Kirby actually brought the ball back to us so we could throw it again. More evidence of that collie/shepherd blood in there somewhere.

To Phoebe's credit, she probably did more fetching than any of them. She has no fear of the incoming surf and LOVES to go out in the water to get the ball. Interestingly enough, our friends tell us Phoebe doesn't like to swim in lakes or rivers. Bax is just the opposite. He doesn't like the surf and only enters it up to his knees, and that begrudgingly. But give him a lake or river and he's diving in after anything we throw. Kirby doesn't much like water anywhere except when he's thirsty or getting a warm bath at home (which, oddly enough, Baxter hates...near-frozen snow melt is fine, warm bath at home brings on fits and shakes).

Go figure. Dog psyches. In any case, everyone had a fantastic time out there once again.

Beach Photo - 20 June 2008

I love this photo from our previous trip to the coast...Kirby got to the stick first, but Baxter caught up fast...

Welcome to Reverse Peristalsis Week

We've used up an inordinate amount of paper towel this week cleaning up after our dogs' gravity-defying acts. The thing that amazes me is just how long something can stay inside of a dog before the stomach decides to toss it back where it came from.

Case in point: seaweed. Day before yesterday, a good four days after having returned from the coast, Baxter approached me with a very hang-dog look. He stood drooping in front of his empty food bowl and proceeded to urp up a several nearly-intact pieces of seaweed. It took about three tries on Baxter's part (and about 12 paper towels on my part...apologies to the trees but I just couldn't use one of my good kitchen towels on it) to get it all handled. I guess Baxter will never be a) a vegetarian or b) Japanese.

Not to be outdone, Kirby gingerly slid beneath my husband's feet at his desk this afternoon and proceeded to choke up a rather substantial hair ball. Kirby hasn't hacked-up a hair ball since his days as a kitten. I guess he's been saving it up. Or maybe it's because he and Baxter are once again engaging in their little wrestling matches and Kirby goes straight for the Griffon moustache hair... Another half-dozen paper towels later, Kirby acts like nothing happened.

Ah, the joys of dog ownership. Apologies again to the trees.

Beach Dogs

We just returned from spending a few days at the coast, blessed by glorious weather and plenty of time for wandering down the beaches, playing fetch with the dogs and reading. We had a great time, the dogs had a great time and, of course, it all went by too fast.

We decided to let Kirby have a wee bit more exercise this time, and I think it was good for his little heart just to have the freedom to frolic on the beach. Kirby learned a few things about coastal fauna (yes, sometimes those little shells in the sand MOVE), and we learned that Kirby has the ability to jump with all four feet simultaneously, at least a yard in the air.

Some of Kirby's mystery ancestry also came through this time... When walking with us off leash he suddenly turned into a little shepherd dog... We couldn't figure out what he was doing at first. I thought he was just frightened and hiding behind our legs. Then I realized that he was, quite methodically, running back and forth behind our heels, from my husband to me to Baxter back to me and back to my husband. He'd circle around the side, pull in close, fade back, cross back over to the other side, etc. We were being HERDED down the beach. Yes, Kirby's mother was some sort of shepherd mix... whether that be German or Australian or what, we're not exactly sure. But our little "terrier" suddenly reminded me an awful lot of my friend's Shetland Sheepdog. I guess Kirby was just doing his part to keep the pack together and fulfill some sort of genetic destiny.

Now, Baxter's a pro at going to the beach and he always approaches it with absolute glee. Among Baxter's favorite beach attractions are:

• driftwood sticks -- pick it up and look exceedingly eager to play fetch, get someone to throw it, then chase it, grab it, pretend like you're going to bring it back, then run right past the thrower, lay down on the beach 100 yards away and proceed to pulverize it into wood chips before they come and take it away
• dead birds -- great to roll in, and nothing gets the whole family to come running any quicker
• salt water -- so delicious and it works like a laxative!
• dried seaweed encrusted with shells -- crunchy, salty goodness
• wet dogs -- it's a big, wet, sandy dog party out here
• freedom -- get that gentle leader off and GO!

And for us, one of the sweet side effects of spending the day romping on the beach is sleeping in the next morning... the sun rises without the dogs, who snore away until well past 8am (a record for Kirby).

More to come...with pictures!

A Little Too Neighborly

The weather has been glorious for the past couple of days. And, like most Portlanders when the sun finally decides to make a showing, the dogs have been feeling particularly frisky. And I'm just now realizing that the brief bit of freedom we were allowing the dogs on rainy days is now over.

We live at the end of a little alley and the patch of grass just beside our house is fairly private, but it's not fenced. Because we are a ways from the cross street, from time to time we've been letting the boys out into the yard off leash. If we let them out together, they play chase and wrestle (which we're discouraging even more, as Kirby's supposed to keep relatively calm until he gets a clean bill of health from the vet). But if we let them out individually (we always go with them), they're usually very good about trotting out to the yard, doing their business and coming back to the door. Of course, ever since we've been doing this it's pretty much been cool and rainy and I think the boys just didn't want to spend time out there any more than we did.

But now that summer's finally making an appearance, things are different. Time for new rules.

On the first sunny day, Baxter, on his turn out the door, noticed the next door neighbor standing out on his porch and decided to pay a visit. He gave the man a cursory nudge, then noticed that their door was ajar. So he took it upon himself to shove the door open with his head (something he does at home with any door that's ajar) and I caught up to him just as he was about to step inside. The neighbor was a bit surprised and I was a bit embarassed.

"Curious, eh?" the neighbor asked (he's British).

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," I said as I dragged Baxter home by the collar. Baxter seemed disappointed.

Kirby is usually a bit less neighborly than Baxter. Anyone coming out of a door can be cause for alarm and is announced repeatedly until either they or he goes back inside. And Kirby is also usually a bit more focused than Baxter when it comes to yard outings. He never strays very far from the door and he usually runs right back to the door as soon as he's finished.

So, imagine my dismay this afternoon when Kirby, after finishing his business, took off. I was taking care of picking up his business and when I turned around Kirby was gone. I ran up to the back door, which was open, and asked my husband if Kirby had come inside.

"No, I thought he was with you." Egad.

At this point panic set in. Kirby has never been out of our sight (or the sight of a caregiver) since we've owned him. He has never run off and I've come to trust him. I started yelling his name, expecting him to come around the corner of the neighbor's house. Nope. Finally, I hear his little tags jingling in the distance. He has run down the alley, across the street and down the next alley to go and visit a neighbor dog who was out for a walk.

As soon as he heard my voice, he came running back, sheepishly, with his ears and tail down. I didn't want to scold him for coming when called, but I didn't have to. He knew he was a bad boy. Not only did he run, he ran ACROSS A STREET. Ok, it's not exactly a busy street. But after seeing my first dog, Katie, a little cairn terrier, meet her demise being hit by a car on a non-busy street, all sorts of nightmarish thoughts ran through my head. A moving vehicle probably wouldn't see a little dog dashing out from between the parked cars.

So much for the warm, lazy Sunday afternoon. Perfect for visiting with the neighbors. And out of the blue, Kirby decides it's time, at long last, to be neighborly.

I guess this is the price we pay for helping Kirby build his confidence. When we got him he wouldn't go up to anyone and he was afraid of getting out of our sight. Now he usually wags when he sees strangers approaching him and he has, as of today, discovered that when he's off leash, he's in charge.

No more. The days of trust and freedom in the yard are over. And, I have to say, I am a bit sad about it. It isn't just that Kirby endangered himself by running off (thank goodness it all turned out OK). Or that he's now lost the priviledge of romping around the yard unfettered. I'm sad because I've lost something too...my trust that Kirby will stay near me.

I guess if it means that Kirby is finally becoming a normal, friendly, confident little dog, that's not a bad thing. He's just going to have to be a normal, friendly, confident little dog on the end of a leash.

Flush Puppies

Ok, here's an interesting idea...Flush Puppies, flushable doggie poop bags. These guys make it sound like they invented it, but there are other brands out there. Still, it's the first time it has come to my attention, which is hard to believe since dog poop bags are such vital element of my daily existence.

These, like the others, are made with a plastic film called PVA (poly-vinyl alcohol). I looked it up and everything I find seems to show that it really is water soluble and breaks down with bacteria. Then again, I'm not a scientist, so I'm not sure I totally understand what I'm reading.

Given our experiences with other "making the world better through plastic" issues, they'll probably find something dangerous about it after we've flushed thousands of them down the loo. But I guess the question is, would it be any worse for the environment than tossing your dog's doo in the local creek (a favorite of some of my neighbors, unfortunately) or preserving poop for eternity in a landfill in a normal plastic bag or some-time-less-than-eternity in a "bio-degradable" plastic bag as we do now?

Then there's the back yard dog poo composter...

If you're in a quandry, as I am, the NRDC has published a good overview on the options.

Where's ScruffyDog? Damfino.

They (meaning the blogging experts) say that one of the worst things a blogger can do is to not write regularly in his or her blog. The audience, who comes to expect to see new material, comes to the blog only to see the same post day after day, week after week. And, as time goes by, the audience gradually dwindles to nothing.

I fear ScruffyDog has come to the nothing point. One of my dear readers finally sent me an email asking if I was OK...she hadn't seen any posts in so long, she wondered if I had fallen off the face of the earth.

Sometimes it feels that way. When the pressures of work and life come to a peak, my creative energy seems to get supressed. This is frustrating. Because if there's ever a time when one needs creative juices to flow freely, it's when the pressures of work and life come to a peak. So I conserve my energy, parsing it out to each project until there's very little left for things like blogging or working on that historical novel I've been meaning to start for the past 10 years.

The one thing I do make time for, however, is playing with the dogs. If there's anything in my life that helps to replenish that well of energy it's canine companionship. I'm not really sure why. Perhaps it's because unlike human interaction, which is wonderful but draining on me, dog interaction takes nothing away. Sure, I expend physical energy heeding the call of the dogs' biological needs, trying to coax the poop bag open on a cold morning, wiping eight wet feet, scraping up the wads of dog hair that collect on the carpeted steps. But that's just stuff to do. The time I spend playing, scratching behind ears, rolling around and napping on the floor with Baxter and Kirby comes effortlessly to me. And it regenerates me in a way nothing else can.

So even though I may not always take the time to focus on my dog blog, I always take the time to focus on its subject matter. And that's what matters most.

Baxter's 9th Birthday Picture 4-4-08

A little late getting the image from camera to blog, but here he is...the birthday boy. I can't believe he's nine years old already! And still handsome as ever.

Moose-bear R.I.P.

I was on a conference call. Kirby was being very, very quiet.

Treatment #3 for Kirby, Baxter Tests Negative!

Treatment #3 was about the same as #2 yesterday. Sore bottom on the little guy and he's lethargic, but OK. He seems to find more comfort retreating to his crate instead of sleeping under the desk or out in the open in my office. Going to his crate during the day is a pretty good sign he's not feeling well... But his eyes are bright and he gets up and comes out whenever he hears a stir. I just wish I could make him feel better right now. But if it's like the previous treatments, he should be up and at 'em more by tomorrow.

I'm also very happy (and relieved) to report that Baxter's follow-up heartworm test was NEGATIVE. This is further indication that Kirby most likely came to us from the shelter hosting the heartworms in his system. Not that that's a good thing...it's horrible. And it's not surprising, given that a) Kirby and his siblings ran loose on a farm with no preventative and no vaccines until they were several months old, and b) he came from Northern California, where heartworm is more common than in Oregon. But I've been carrying around more than a little guilt over the fact that I was an imperfect administrator of preventative...missing a month or being late here or there. The vet says it's unusual for one dog to get heartworm and the other not to, particularly given that Baxter is a much older dog, and that's why the vet wanted to retest. Fortunately, the preventative we gave Kirby early on probably killed the larvae and made the adult worms sterile, so he didn't infect too many other mosquitoes.

Anyway, lesson learned. And I still feel bad about missing preventative doses. Honestly, having been a Portland-ite for so long (where there is almost no incidence of heartworm), I didn't realize to what extent that Southern Oregon is in a higher risk category. I didn't develop as rigorous a habit of giving preventative as I should have. And my husband wasn't tracking on it at all, since it was a job I took on. Now both of us are tracking on it, noting the day each month when our guys get preventative and reminding each other -- even though we're now back in the Portland area and it's probably not as critical. I just know I wouldn't want either of our dogs to have to go through this process in the future.

I've also commented previously here that good-natured people who adopted Katrina rescue dogs (50% or more were estimated to be heartworm-positive) sometimes unwittingly spread heartworm to relatively free areas... all it takes is one of the small number of local mosquitoes sucking the blood of a positive dog, then spreading it to countless other dogs. And Portland is full of good-natured dog lovers, so it wouldn't surprise me if that, plus global warming, plus the way these things travel wouldn't result in rising infection rates here. Well, at least our veterinarian has practice.

That said, I'm so glad there is a treatment for heartworm. I grew up in Iowa hearing, at the time, that heartworm was basically a death sentence for the dog -- a slow and painful death sentence. Early treatments were very hard on the dogs and many didn't make it. The new treatment is still risky, but with a 98% success rate, I feel much better about Kirby's odds of getting through this and going on to be a healthy, bouncy, happy little dog.

Now if we can just keep him from bouncing and racing around the house for the next six months, until he gets his follow-up heartworm test, we should be in the clear.

Treatment #2 for Kirby, Test for Baxter

We took Kirby in this morning for the second of his three-shot heartworm treatment. The vet also wanted to retest Baxter for heartworm -- he tested negative in December, but sometimes it takes longer for dogs to test positive and if, per chance, he was exposed last summer, it should be showing up by now. Our fingers are crossed that Baxter will still be negative.

Kirby is a bit lethargic, as he was after his first shot. They give the shot in the deep muscle of the lower back/hip area. Occasionally Kirby will curl around to bite at it, but for the most part he just seems tired. He also has his "panic smell." Kirby had this weird smell when we first got him as a puppy -- some of it is coming from his breath, but some of it just seems to come out of his whole body like a little cloud of stink. Now he gets that smell whenever he's frightened or really stressed. These trips to the vet really bring it on. It usually wears off in a couple of hours...hope so, because he's sleeping beside my desk...

The vet said the first of the three shots is the worst in terms of danger to the dog -- you don't know how they'll react, that's when the majority of the worms die, etc. Because Kirby did so well the first time, he's less worried this time -- but it's not over until it's over and we still need to watch him closely for a while. Restricted exercise continues for a few more months as well...

The vet said it's possible all the worms died after the first shot, but they can't get an accurate test for six months and the protocol says to treat all dogs as if they had a heavy worm load. So it's three shots no matter what. Kirby gets the third shot tomorrow morning. Poor guy, he still has a lump on his hip from the first shot last month, he got the other hip this morning. Not sure where tomorrow's will go...he's out of fresh hips to get shots in.

Thanks to all of you who are following Kirby's progress and who have sent your good wishes. They are most appreciated by all of us!

Yet another Kirby cousin?

No photo this time... As my husband was out for his morning run today, he saw another little dog that looked just like Kenny -- same color and proportions -- walking with a different person. They didn't get a chance to meet, but we'll certainly be keeping our eyes open next time we're in that neighborhood.

Maybe dogs are like cars. Every time I get a new car, or even think about getting a particular model, I suddenly see them EVERYWHERE. Of course, we've had Kirby for well over a year now, but I know my ability to spot shaggy little black-and-tan dogs is definitely more acute.

Meet Kenny, Another "Kirby Cousin"

We made a trip to the natural health pet store today to pick up some more Hawthorn Plus (supplement to help minimize side effects of Kirby's heartworm treatment). While we were there, a women came in with a little dachsund/terrier mix that looked a LOT like Kirby, only with a tad more dachsund blood -- very short legs and slightly longer ears. His name is Kenny and he's about a year old. He came from a shelter in Albany, Oregon.

I immediately thought of Kirby's dog park "cousin" Paco, who came from a shelter in Southern Oregon. Kirby came from a shelter in Northern California. Kenny's owner said she met someone who got a dog from a shelter at the Oregon Coast who looked exactly like Kenny and was about the same age.

Could there be a little, wire-haired, black-and-tan dachsund/terrier Romeo populating the West Coast?

Most likely there are many. I know the black-and-tan color markings are very common across multiple breeds and they often show up in mixed-breeds as well -- probably a very old gene in the canine gene pool.

In any case, little Kenny's tan markings are in all the same places as Kirby's and the dark part of his coat, while a little longer and softer than Kirby's, has the same mix of black and gray. His eyes have the same shape and the same dark intensity as Kirby's and that little black button of a nose is almost identical. And, of course, like Kirby at age one, Kenny wouldn't sit still long enough for me to snap a clear photo with my cell phone camera!

While I strongly believe all dogs should be spayed or neutered unless they are being shown and/or responsibly bred as part of a purebred breeding program, I still can't help but be charmed by the little "serendipity" dogs -- the black-and-tan happy accidents that charm us with their sweet, spunky little personalities and charming good looks.

Speaking of Paco, here's the latest from Cheryl down in Baja. He definitely has the shortest hair of the three...Kirby's a mix of the two. But those eyes and that face...

The Moose are Back

I've been remiss in my mending. This past Christmas Kirby got a soft, little stuffed moose from my mom. It was adorable...tan with a pink tummy, pink antlers, pink nose and pink feet. It had a little squeaker in it's tummy. Kirby was thrilled. For the first 15 minutes or so he ran around the room showing it to everyone and squeaking it to his heart's delight. Then things got quiet. As we were all opening our Christmas gifts and eating cookies, Kirby was busy at work behind our feet. The next time I looked down, the little moose's pink tummy had been completely ripped open and Kirby was chewing on the squeaker. Little Moose lasted less than an hour. Other than the abdominal surgery, Little Moose was in perfect condition, so I stuffed him into a bag and decided I would sew him back up some day.

Baxter, meanwhile, had a big stuffed brown moose (aka "Moose-Bear") -- his favorite brand: Castor and Pollux. Baxter isn't one for squeaking, but whenever he gets a stuffed toy, he enjoys carrying it around, sleeping on it and occasionally ripping out a leg or nose. Of course, now that Kirby's around, Baxter seldom gets any time alone with a toy before Kirby zooms in and steals it. I'm not sure which dog was the culprit this last time, but Moose-Bear also managed to get eviscerated...but the squeaker remained. Moose-Bear went into the mend pile as well.

The mend pile lives in the laundry room, in a bag on top of a hamper. Every now and then I'll find Kirby sitting in the laundry room looking up at it and growling under his breath (it's as if he's willing it to come to him). Finally today I decided to get out the needle and thread and bring a couple of moose back to playing condition again. Little Moose got a tummy tuck...this time sans squeaker. Kirby seemed pleased, but a bit disheartened that no squeaking happened when he bit into the little pink belly. Oh well.

I mended Moose-Bear and handed it to Baxter. Bax got a good 3-4 minutes with it before Kirby realized Baxter had a toy and proceeded to steal it away. I tried to give Little Moose to Baxter, but he refused to even touch it.

I don't know why Baxter doesn't protect his toys...I'm not sure if he thinks Kirby is somehow superior to him or if he just figures it's not worth arguing over. In any case, Kirby is now napping with BOTH of the moose and, so far, their stitches are holding.

Cheese Dogs

Both Baxter and Kirby are getting a bit more cheese lately. Now that we are administering pills and supplements as part of Kirby's treatment, we have hit upon the perfect way to get him to gobble them up...wrap 'em in cheese. He doesn't even bother chewing, the whole mini-cheese-ball goes down in one gulp, no questions asked. The cheese of choice? Tillamook sharp cheddar. It takes a bit of work to get it squishy enough, but it works like a charm.

While all the daily dosage attention is going to Kirby, Baxter stands in the background wearing his best hang-dog expression until he also gets a piece of cheese (sans pill, of course).

Now all I have to do is open the refrigerator door and take out ANYTHING wrapped in plastic. I immediately hear the scrambling of claws on the hardwood and within mere seconds there are two scruffy beggars at my feet.

I'm sure the cult of cheese will continue long after this episode of pill administration is over, and I'll never again open the fridge without four ears going up. Well, up as far as they go anyway.