Happy Memorial Day Weekend, friends! Safe and enjoyable travels!
Happy Memorial Day Weekend, friends! Safe and enjoyable travels!
Like my new stainless steel dog tag? It’s very durable and aesthetically pleasing (and the current envy of all my neighbor dogs). Mom bought it from a special dog tag designer called Silver Paw (http://www.silverpawtags.com/). Ask your mom to get you one, too. I’m going on my walk now.
It all happened on my second walk around 8:30 a.m. My neighbor’s nine-year-old daughter was walking her two dogs. Technically, these little dogs are called Papillons. But to me, they look like long-haired Chihuahuas. And I hate Chihuahuas.
So, I barked. I may have barked a lot. Anyway, my mother was trying to pull me back, as I may have been a tad bit aggressive and feigned an attack on them. It just seemed that way. I mean, I would never attack, especially when the nine-year-old daughter and her mom always pet me and give me presents.
Anyway, I fell off the curb and howled. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. And, it was my bum leg.
“What have I done now?” I wondered, as my mother bent down and tried to examine the damage. I, of course, would not allow her to help — at all. Remember, Chihuahuas. I have a duty to continue barking as I intermittently howl in pain.
So, Mom just picked me up and carried me home, scolding me (rather unsympathetically, I would say) along the way. I was still barking. To any observers, it probably appeared as though I was a naughty dog.
So, we get inside. The leg does not seem to be broken. However, I have a dangling, bleeding dewclaw, and it hurts every time I move. My mother Googles “dangling dewclaw.”
“In case of bleeding, call vet.” Oh no! The vet?
So, she called the vet. Closed. (Hooray!!! 4th of July; Independence Day; a holiday!) Oops. Celebrated way too soon because my mother then called the Emergency Animal Clinic and described the situation. (Why, oh why, does there have to be an Emergency Animal Clinic?) They wanted to take a look. Of course. Why not? Let them take a look. Ugh.
So, my mother (my dad is always gone in the summer, and she has to do EVERYTHING) carries me to the car and drives me way up to the Emergency Animal Clinic at Scottsdale and Williams.
Did I mention that I hate going to the vet? You know what happens, and it did. Yes, the thermometer in places it just shouldn’t be. Anyway, guess what you do with a dangling, bleeding dewclaw.
“Oh, well, we will just spray some antiseptic on it, and yank it out.”
I nearly pottied on the floor. They were going to “yank out” the nail. Oh my goodness. I started panting. My heart rate skyrocketed. “Yank?” Sounds onomatopoeic. What a terrible thing to do to a dog all because of “Papillons.” (And did I mention that they had barked first? Really, they did.)
Sigh. I am at home now … recuperating. The vet said bed rest for five to seven days. That’s like telling my mother to go on bed rest … IOW, not happening. Energetic. Can’t miss anything. I mean, there are lizards and baby quails and a baby dove even.
Yes, and those awful Chihuahua lookalikes. But, I’m not one to hold a grudge. In fact, I can hardly wait until my mid-afternoon walk. I just hope no one notices my bandage.
March 25, 2014 – I just hate being 10 years old. My legs aren’t what they used to be. I lost my footing and fell, hurting my bum front leg. It was more embarrassing than anything because my toenail scratched the hair off the bridge of my nose. I am considering rhinoplasty, but the best plastic surgeon my mom knows is in Manhattan. I don’t think I could get there and back without anyone noticing, especially with my nose bandaged. And does rhinoplasty even repair lost hair on the nose? I wish I could quit staring at it in the mirror.
April 4, 2014 – I find this sign discriminatory on several levels.
April 17, 2014 – Those Farmer’s Insurance commercials are funny. The bear on the motorcycle … still chuckling.
April 24, 2014 – So, I was reading The Wall Street Journal today and saw an article about a cat café in New York. Apparently, cat lovers can go and eat, drink “Cat’achinos” (whatever) and adopt homeless cats at this cafe. I really feel for a homeless animal in New York (even a cat, I suppose). Still, I don’t think I want to go to Manhattan for a rhinoplasty anymore.
September was memorable (and not in the best way). Forget about the water damage (six walls in a small condo being ripped out and replaced, including my closet), my clothes being piled on the dining room table for over a month, ruined floors and baseboards, the desert dirt (and scorpions) being inside instead of outside, the bathroom renovations and countless trips to Home Depot, Lowe’s and Ace Hardware.
Reporter: What’s it like being a celebrity dog?
Charlee: I am photographed a lot more than most dogs.
Reporter: You mean you dislike that? You’re so photogenic!
Charlee: Thanks. It means my mom weighs me a lot. Remember, I lost eight pounds two years ago and have to keep it off. That’s hard when you are a foodie like I am.
Reporter: I see. Well, you have beautiful brown eyes, although I understand they were green recently. Can you explain?
Charlee: Sure. That would be Mac-too, my grandparents’ new Westie puppy. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about him … maybe somewhat jealous, according to the blog post. We’re okay now though. He understands I am still the favorite.
Charlee: Well, Petco sells ferrets. They live in big glass houses. I love the ferrets, but they get sold quickly. So, a long-term relationship is not possible.
The guinea pigs at both PETsMART and Petco are fun. I get photographed with them a lot. They have glass houses, too.So do the fish.
Charlee: I just matter-of-factly point out their inaccuracy, and explain how I would characterize myself as a “well-behaved” princess. Yes, my mom treats me very well. It’s true. However, she does have rules. I follow the rules.
Reporter: Give me some examples of the rules.
Charlee: That’s easy. I am not allowed to nap on the sofa unless I am on my blanket. I am not allowed junk food of any kind. I have to get my teeth brushed regularly.
Reporter: What’s your sign?
Charlee: My favorite sign is PETsMART. Remember … the complimentary treat?
Reporter, chuckling: No, what’s your Zodiac sign?
Charlee: I don’t know what you mean.
Reporter: Rumor has it that you have a great disposition. Is there anything that irritates you?
Reporter: What or where is the famous “magic window” we have heard about?
Charlee: My mom prepped me. She does this for a living and is very good at it. She gave me a bath.
Reporter: What made you consent to an interview on M&A Monday?
Charlee: From what I hear, the M&A scene has been pretty slow this summer. So, I was not concerned about the timing.
Reporter: Well, I’m so glad you took the time today. Thank you for sharing what it’s like to be a dog celebrity. I wish you the best in your blogging.
Charlee: Thank you. It has been my pleasure. I appreciate your interest and that of my readers. I wouldn’t be a celebrity without their support. Until the next blog post …
She spoils me is what some may often say.
PetSmart, Petco, Pet Club and sometimes Lowe’s …
She takes me on adventures everyday,
(and wants to take me flying with “Dog Bose”).
She bathes me weekly and brushes my shedding coat,
Puts cream on my paws and checks my face for stains,
Fastens the pretty pink collar around my throat,
In the ‘Benz we speed to Starbucks drive-thru lane.
An iced venti unsweet’nd green tea for her,
Grande water (and treat she brought) for me,
To the pet store next where cats are adopted and purr.
Lizards, parrots, ferrets and fish we see.
Adventures with my mom are always fun.
But my favorite with her is watching the rising sun.
Today, “diet” is no longer in Charlee’s vocabulary. There is no need. She enjoys delicious, nutritious food (plenty of beets and green beans) and maintains a healthy and “airline-friendly” weight. Charlee, of course, could care less about a healthy weight as long as she gets to eat good food and fly.
Charlee loves to travel via air. Here she is pictured underneath the seat in front of me on Southwest Airlines in her Sherpa pet carrier, which I highly recommend. Sherpa offers what the company calls “Guaranteed On-Board” for peace of mind. (See their website at http://www.sherpapet.com for details.)
Charlee was a bit skeptical about being wheeled around in a confined bag at first. I trained her by putting a salmon jerky treat inside; saying, “Let’s go on the airplane!”; and zipping her inside the Sherpa bag to eat her treat while wheeling her around our home. After a few days, she would get excited whenever she heard me get her Sherpa from the closet. (Pavlov was a genius.)
Despite “fitting” in the Sherpa bag, Charlee was 7 pounds overweight (and over the maximum airline-approved pet weight) when I made the purchase. We had dieted to no avail. By chance, a colleague mentioned her dog had lost a lot of weight eating green beans. That night for dinner, I introduced Charlee to unsalted green beans with 1/4 of what kibble she normally ate. Within 8 days, she had slimmed down to a healthier (and airline-approved) weight. (I later discovered how much more pleasant this made the ticketing/boarding process, as the airlines DO NOT APPRECIATE if you try to sneak an over-the-weight-limit dog or cat aboard.)
Charlee and I do attract a lot of attention when we travel together. Being a very social and loving dog, Charlee has soothed crying children, evoked dog stories from fellow pet lovers and even offered solace on several occasions to those who have lost pets. Despite all of the smiles she has brought, never once have we gotten to board first. But, after sitting on the tarmac a few times in sweltering cabin temperatures, I think not boarding first has been quite the blessing, too.
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