Holy smokes, it's been a while!

I have been remiss. Largely because I like to post pictures, and my camera broke (I dropped it, bummer).

But this is too good to pass up! It's a Chester story. Sort of.

First of all, I have to explain I took in a foster girl who came from a local puppy mill. The "breeder" lives in a trailer and meets puppy buyers at her mother's nicer home, so no one is the wiser. This girl is a year old and was the product of an accidental breeding (although this "breeder" produces so many $800 puppies with congenital liver shunts, you'd think all her breedings were accidental, but I digress). Anyhow, Madeline is a 24 pound girl whose owners could no longer cope with her because she is afraid of everything.

The pug pack here has transformed her, and she is less afraid, but still afraid of people and of being picked up. So of course I pick her up ALL THE TIME. She has become quite dominant, and she picks on Erwin just like Sasha did. Poor little Napoleon.

So day Monday I put all the pugs in the kitchen and went off to do errands. When I came home, the baby gate was on the floor and Erwin was nowhere. When I found him (on the sofa), he had a "There's Something About Mary" hairdo. In the canine world, this means someone had been doing his hair with spit, and when I looked, sure enough, he had bite marks on his ear. Maddie had gone after him. Poor Erwin's ear was just oozing and he had a bump not unlike cauliflower ear. I cleaned him up and instilled some ear meds, but his ear was just oozing goo.

The next morning I called my vet. I love them -- they got me in right away, and sure enough, Erwin's ear is cut and infected. They had to shave part of his hair so his ear can dry out, so he has meds. On the way home, I managed to run over a small bit of road debris which made a heck of a thump, and when I got into town, I noticed that people outside would look at my car as I drove by. Not a good sign. Not at all. Especially since I had to be at work.

I pull up to the house and realize that sure enough, my back tire is getting flat, really fast. So I grab Wee, yelling "Come on! Hurry! I'm losing air!" Of course the more I panic, the more like a brick he becomes, but he's only 16 pounds of hilarity, so that was one brick I picked up and RAN into the house. Luckily, I had already put Maddie in the crate, so I left Erwin and Bugsy in the kitchen and started hollering for Chester.

Chester did not respond. I couldn't find him and time was a-wastin'. So I made the executive decision to drive on a flat the 5 miles to Les Schwab -- it was faster than putting the spare on. The entire way, I wondered where the heck Chester was, and resigned myself to probably using a whole roll of paper towels, a bottle of Tilex, doing laundry and vacuuming when I got home in the evening. That's usually how it is when Chester is loose.

Lucky for me, Les Schwab is a block from my shop, and I wasn't late. It took them about an hour to put on a new tire (the old tire wasn't fixable. When I do something, I do it all the way). A friend dropped in and offered to watch the store while I went and got my car. After she left, I felt really alone because Bugsy wasn't there, so I put the "back in a minute" sign on and drove home to get him. Bugsy was waiting and I'm sure if he'd had opposable thumbs, he would have been ready at the door.

I called Chester, but no joy -- I had this idea I could hear snoring coming from upstairs, but I was afraid to look, so Bugsy and I headed to work.

When I got home, I had to holler for Chester again and sure enough, he had been upstairs. Alone. In my office. All day. Oh, the humanity. I didn't go look. In fact, I didn't go look until the next morning, afraid of the Hurricane Katrina like destruction.

But there was no destruction. None at all. Not even a pee spot. Nothing. The wastebasket wasn't even tipped over! This is completely remarkable, and worth a blog post. Of course, do I entertain the thought that perhaps Chester is growing up now that he's 8 years old? NOT EVEN! But it is a momentous occasion, and I marked the calendar.

Cesar and Ilusion Millan Foundation Photo Contest

If you can, please vote for Chester! The picture I entered is the big version of the profile pic, Chester sticking out his tongue. If only you knew Chester...

Cesar and Ilusion Millan Foundation Photo Contest

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That day always comes too soon

Marley and Boomer after I first got her in 2001.

Marley was euthanized today and is with Boomer at the Rainbow bridge. Marley will be cremated and her ashes will join Boomer, who was her best pal for many years -- they were always the little old couple. I no longer have someone sassing me that it's time for dinner, or breakfast, or "I would like you to carry me back upstairs again" or "I went out. I may have peed, or I might not have. Either way I went out and came in so I would like a treat." My little old lady who loved to ride motorcycles, scooters, parties and dining out is gone, and there will never be another one like her. Ever. She was cool.

This photo was taken of Marley today. She was happy to be on my lap, but that was it. Whatever took her came on quickly. She had a pleasant day at the shop yesterday, eating treats and yapping, but then she threw up. At 3am she peed on the bed (because Chester had somehow shoved her out of her bed), and when I put her in the bathroom, she threw up more and kept trying to get between the toilet and the wall, pressing her head on the wall. This morning, she was uninterested in food. For those that don't know pugs, when a pug is uninterested in food, it's a medical emergency.

I took her to the vet and left her because they were super busy, and around 2pm, the vet called and said it could be liver failure, it could be a tumor, we could do blood tests and all that. We determined it was best to let her go instead of doing all that so we scheduled for 5pm. About 15 minutes later he called again said I should come right away because she was fading, so I went and held her on my lap while she went to sleep very peacefully. Chester sniffed her a few times, and actually seemed concerned. Then he decided it was more fun to sniff the vet, but he was quite subdued on the car ride home.

I miss her. She was just a constant in my life for 8 years. I knew she was old, and decrepit, and that this day would come, but it's still very hard for me. I likely will close House of Marley -- I don't have the time, nor the motivation any more. And just who the heck is going to moan me awake every morning at the crack of dawn?

Of rescued pugs: a Wee tale

The nice thing about living up the street from a small public beach is that in the evenings, the neighbors all go down for a swim. Some even bring their dogs even though it's posted "no dogs" -- it's after hoursI decided to do The Walk with the pugs (per the Dog Whisperer), and by the time we'd gone the long way around the block, I figured they were pretty warm and perhaps willing to go in the water.

This was the first time I'd taken Erwin to the beach, and it was his first time seeing a person with some of those floaty "noodle" toys emerge from the water. She was a large woman, and I watched Wee tense up,

But he didn't bark. He didn't move. Just stood there like the man and watched. When she came closer and cooed at him, then let him stand there and lick her hand, he decided everything that comes out of the lake is WONDERFUL! She had come just to see him, and after we had chatted a bit and she turned to go back out, Erwin tried to follow.

Michael Phelps he is not. He's not even Erwin Phelps. He's just the Wee, who got a little nervous and got splashy which made him more frantic. Luckily another woman in water shoes waded out and assisted him by putting a hand under his belly. Then he thought he was Michael Phelps, but got DQ'd by me reeling him in on the leash.

The poor little dude had to be practically dragged away -- he wanted to play with his mermaid. Next summer.

Treadmilling

I was able to teach THIS DOG to walk on a treadmill in under 5 minutes.

And yes, that is his front leg through his collar. Don't ask me how. Ask him.

Before I go brag about how I am The Pug Whisperer, I must tell the whole story. NOTE: No one was harmed, although I have some weird bruises.

The treadmill training was brought by Cesar Milan (The Dog Whisperer) in the vain hope that if I tire Chester out he won't wander around the yard eating turds, raspberries, grass clippings, etc. To Cesar's credit, he has a disclaimer to consult a professional, but I am a DIY kind of gal.

It took me about 15 minutes total to train Chester, Bugsy and Erwin to walk on the treadmill out in the garage. Not bad. I felt very pleased and Pug Whisperer-ish. It was a little hot out so I put Erwin back in the house and went out with Bugsy. Unfortunately, Chester shot out of the house too, thinking Bugsy shouldn't get all the treats, so the three of us went into the garage.

Then I got the bright idea to show the two doggies that their pack leader also walked on the treadmill. Why? Who knows -- they were already willing to walk on it. I suspect it was a large case of smugness and showing off for a canine (read: easily amused) audience. So as I'm walking on the treadmill, Bugsy jumps on and proceeds to walk next to me. "Well, this is remarkable," I think, "We're walking together! Cool!"

Malcontent Chester decided to nip at Bugsy. This is how he asserts dominance and is his idea of foreplay. It precedes dominance mounting, so I am watching him to see if it progresses. Clearly, Chester has no clue about the laws of physics or the laws of unintended consequences. On the other hand, I do, so I try to shoo him away. Obviously, Chester does not think I am his pack leader and blissfully ignores me.

The biting caused Bugsy to lose concentration momentarily so Chester made his move and suddenly there were THREE of us on a moving treadmill with me trying to shove Chester off. As I fell, Chester shot off the back of the machine, crashing butt first into a parked motorcycle, with Bugsy close behind and me right behind him yelling, "Bugsy! DOWN! DOWN!" in the hopes he will go under the motorcycle and not get crushed between me and the bike. At the same time, I'm trying to push Bugsy under the bike and flailing at the emergency stop cord but I couldn't grab it in time.

When Chester hit, he screeched (he is a big baby) but managed to wriggle out of the way. Bugsy was trying to climb out from between the bike and the end of the treadmill, but every time I tried to move off him, the treadmill would shove me back into the bike. I kept hoping Bugs was UNDER and not between me and the bike. All I could think of to do as the belt was scraping along my butt was to do an arch with my shoulders on the unmoving side rail of the treadmill, reach over and unplug the machine.

My ponytail is intact. My pants are intact. Chester is traumatized but OK, Bugsy is OK and has motorcycle chain wax in his fur. Erwin was exhausted, since he had finished treadmilling. Marley slept through it all.

Some days I have back pain so badly I can barely move. I wonder why that could be?

The next day, Chester was back on the treadmill. Bugsy, too. No mollycoddling here. And actually, he and Bugsy do the best on the thing (SEPARATELY!). And I always have that rip cord around my wrist as I straddle the pugs. No more walking together with Bugsy on the machine! On to teaching Marley how to treadmill.

I still aspire to be The Pug Whisperer, but to date I've only made it to Crazy Pug Lady of Coeur d'Alene.