My poor dog...

One of the multudinous animals that I've got around here, is a big Shepard/Rott mix goofball named Ziggy. He is the first and only dog I have ever paid money for in my life. How I wound up doing that is a bit weird.
He did belong to a girl who was dating one of the guys who worked here. (He's since quit.) The guy brought him here on a day the vet was here to get him neutered. Since the guy would be working all day, he asked me to watch the dog while he came out of the anesthesia. I said okay. The girlfriends other three dogs were at the guys house, so he asked if Ziggy could stay a while. I said okay. I liked this dog. He was getting along great with all the cats and the other two dogs, so it was cool. He was also going everywhere with me in the car and sleeping in our waterbed with us.
He wound up being here for three weeks. During which time, the guy started hinting that we could maybe keep him, because the chick who owned him had enough to handle with the other three dogs. Suddenly, one day he shows up, mumbling some buncha shit I can't even remember and took the dog.
What?
I felt gut-shot.
I spent three days driving around, on the phone, on line, looking in papers....I was looking for a puppy because I knew it was the only thing, short of getting Zig back, that would make me feel even a little better. Crying about 85% of the time.
Eric asked the guy what the hell was going on for real. The guy lied like a bad toupee most of the time, so Eric kept at him about it. There never were any really clear reasons or stories...
Finally, on the third day, Eric told the guy what the absence of the dog was doing to me and he decided I could have him...if I paid the vet bill for the neutering. (That wasn't my idea-the neutering, but whatever.) Normally, I wouldn't have the money for something like that, but the guy knew I had just won money in a radio call in thing. So, we did it.
I've had this goon for about 5 months or so and he's....beyond any one word descriptions. He's somewhat trained. He sits, shakes, gives kisses, comes when you say to, but, he really just a large puppy still (about a year or so old)so:
He also steals and eats anything you forget and leave out. Potato chips, cereal, Cheeto's, chocolate cookies, cat treats...whatever. He also removes cat food cans from the trash to lick out, shreds mini-blinds if you don't leave them up enough for His Highness to look out of, barks louder than a jet engine and farts worse than any man I've ever known, including Eric, my Dad and my Grandpop.
He also spends a good part of his time lying on his back, on the floor, with all four paws in the air-the front two crossed, no less-wiggling around and making noises exactly like Chewbacca in Star Wars.
I'd kill for him.
Yesterday, he hurt himself somehow. When I went to bed, he was fine. When I got up, he was limping. Front right paw. He wasn't whining or anything and when I let him out to pee, he sure forgot about it in a hurry to go running down the drivway, barking his butt off. I've been keeping an eye on it and him.
He's still limping. Actually, he just keeps it off the floor. And, when he licks it, sometimes he whines. So, with help, I got him on his back and with a flashlight, looked at his foot. Both feet feel the same as far as structure. There's no visible swelling or heat anywhere. So, I figure he hasn't broken or sprained anything. Then, I start looking at his pads. They're very clean from his licking, but I can't see anything. Except what might be a cut. No blood, nothing like a splinter or sparkle of glass, nothing. Just-maybe- a cut.
So, while I had help, I cleaned it with peroxide to kill any germs because deep in between his pads, it looks just a little pinkish. Then, I took some Neosporin and gushed that in there. Then I wrapped a big gauze pad around all his pads, wrapped it in a self-stick ace bandage and topped it off with a white sock, taped around his leg. To make sure he leaves it alone, I put the cone thing he got when he was neutered back around his neck. Poor dog.
I can't tell if he's embarassed or pissed. He just keeps looking at me like "Mo-om, c'mon, man. What are you putting me through?"

I don't think he believes me one bit when I tell him it's for his own good.
Maybe it's the giggling. I'm trying not to, but...
Poor ol' dog.

Posted by: Stevie at 01:54 AM

Comments

Posted by: Acidman at September 13, 2003 02:44 AM (H0Azg)

Posted by: Stevie at September 13, 2003 03:21 AM (cySDt)

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