A Dog’s Life – Page 11

We move in 2 weeks…if all goes well.

My mom is trying to line u some movers so we can be on our way in two weeks. First, she says, she wants to get some rooms painted. Then she wants to get the rugs treated. Not for me, of course. I have perfect manners. But Ophelia likes to toss up a hairball now and then.

I’m feeling better and totally tired of this bland diet. The vet suggested adding some vegetable broth to my food. Like that really makes a difference.

The canned food is delicious but my mom refuses to allow a diet of 100% canned food. Lots of hassle, she says. Environmentally unfriendly. And not as good for my teeth.

Luckily I can still go for walks. I sleep a lot. My mom thinks I’m recovering. I think so too…but who knows? I just hope we’re done with needles for a long, long time. And I can’t wait to go back to the park with my Aunt Sara. It[‘s been way too long. I miss my buddies.

Finally…some good news for all of us

Friday Mom’s purchase was scheduled to close. At the last minute, she got an urgent message.

“The sellers are out of town! We have to wait till Monday.”

So today Mom was relieved to get a message saying that all is well and she is now the proud owner of a condo in Belltown, a dream she had cherished since moving to Seattle.

“I’m still nervous about the whole condo idea,” she says. “But our ceiling is leaking and we will have to move sooner or later. At least we got a good interest rate and we are in a nice place.”

Even better: that nice Dr. Clare said my pancreatitis is better. However, she wants me to eat the bland diet for another two weeks. Yuk. Bland is not beautiful. I never thought I’d miss my ordinary food but this stuff is tasteless.

Worst of all, I can’t go to the park with my Aunt Sara. Too many tempting things for me to eat, mostly unmentionable in a blog censored by the mom. So I”m totally bored and forced to eat tasteless food. What a life.

“It’s your own fault, Gracie,” the mom says unsympathetically. “You get your pointy little nose into everything.”

Uh oh. Time for another pain pill. I need a nap.

Finally…there’s a condo in our future

After wrestling with our first mortgage company, the mom finally iistened to our stellar real estate agent, Sarah Odegaard. Her paperwork landed on the desk of Jeff Bell at Cobalt Mortgage. That was just two weeks ago, to the day.

Today, the mom shoved me into my crate right after we went to the vet for more pills for me. “I’m off to sign the loan papers, Gracie,” she said, clicking the door into place. “You just had a pain pill and you’ll be so sleepy you won’t notice I’m gone.”

True. That nice Dr. Clare gave me some powerful stuff that knocks me out.

My mom came back humming a funny little tune. She showed me a big stack of papers she had signed. She took off to go see a movie to celebrate. “Who can concentrate on work?” she asked me.

She’s asking the wrong person…er, dog. Work is not a word I use often. I’m definitely feeling better, though. And I need to get on my paws fast so I can supervise this move. Mom was on the phone with her friend Pam Ellis, who will be choosing colors for her living room. But so far I have heard no discussion of where my crate will be.

“Probably the bedroom,” my mom said. “Right next to my bed.”

We have to check this out. Don’t I get to approve the decorating scheme as it applies to dogs?

Dog is under the weather…

…and very nasty weather it is too. We’ve had about 5 days of rain without interruption. My mom misses the desert.

On Monday the vet was open (although there was a holiday) so my mom took me to the vet. Dr. Clare said, “Gracie is not as bright as she was last Thursday.”

True. I was feeling like the world should be one big nap.

After poking and prodding, they stuck needles into me. The diagnosis: It seems I have something called pancreatitis. Expensive but ultimately curable. As a dog, I don’t get into the dollars and cents. But I want to get better and go back to running around, driving the mom nuts and walking with my Aunt Sara. Instead, I am lying on the bed or my mom’s counch. Creampuff just ran over to comfort me. Ophelia has ignored me. No surprise there.

My mom shoves nasty-tasting things down my throat all day long. “I have to give Gracie 5 pills a day,” she told soeone one the phone. “Dogs are worse patients than cats.”

Really? At least I don’t have to be force fed. I nibble at my food and eventually eat it. I like to go for walks. I even try to play with other dogs we meet.

My mom hates being sick. For once, we agree on something.

More rice…

The vet can’t figure out why my tummy is still a little upset. Yesterday we went back and saw the wonderful Dr. Clare of UrbanVet in Seattle. We like the other vets but Dr. Clare is special. She encouraged Cathy to adopt me at once. Otherwise, who knows where I’d be right now?

Hmm….better not go there. Maybe I’d be living with Bill Gates or a family with half a dozen kids to spoil me.

Dr. Clare was very kind, even though she poked me in places that a Canine Urban Princess doesn’t talk about in public. No sympathy from the mom, though.

“It’s your own fault, Gracie,” she said. “You keep getting into the garbage. Your pointy little nose gets into everything.”

Well, why not? Is it my fault the streets are Seattle are filled with leftover food? Especially chicken…yum.

Alas, for awhile, my home diet may be back to rice. I’m not responding fast enough to the pills. Not to worry: I”m very healthy. My coat is good, I’m in great shape and I drink water. My mom says what really has her worried is that I’ve ceded the couch to the fat Ophelia. Now there’s a health problem waiting to happen.

The mom doesn’t want me to make fun of Ophelia, but how can I help it? She even makes funny noises when my mom tries to pick her up.

The mom versus the mortgage company

My mom is in a very bad mood today. I retreated to my cushion and am on my very best behavior.

My mom is pretty sure she will get a mortgage. SOMEbody will give her a mortgage. She has a really big down payment, a sterling credit record and good income. She has assets (although you’d never know it from her clothes, our graduate student furniture and my discounted dog treats). What she doesn’t have is time to track down documentation for the ten thousand things the bank wants yesterday. The bank keeps asking for more and more things.

“Why can’t they get their act together and ask me right away?” she grumbles. “I should have gone with Sarah the real estate agent. She is a mortgage broker. We’d be almost done by now.”

Right, mom. Do I care? It’s the same cushion either way.

“If I don’t get this mortgage,” my mom says, “I am going to take off six months from work and Do Nothing. Just to show them I can.”

Yeah, right. The mom will be bored and the dog will pay the price.

“Maybe I’ll go travel and leave Gracie with Bill,” Mom said thoughtfully. “Six months or so…”

Good grief. I would love to live with Bill in New York. I could acquire a taste for muffins, although I’m not so sure about the green beans. I could play with his golden retrievers. Would I miss my mom? Depends. If Bill’s got more food and more chew toys….have a good trip, Mom!

Guest Post From Molly the Australian Shep Dog Who Had Lupus

Every so often I allow nice dogs to post in my blog. My mom says I have to allow cats to post too, but so far nobody’s asked, thank goodness. Do you have a dog with a story? Tell it to the mom and she’ll pass it along to me. — Gracie
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Molly, the 10 1/2 year old Australian Shep, is who I am.

My mom, Carol Giambri, is a health nut who refuses drugs.

I went to one local vet for a drip in my eye, and mom came out told I had lupus possibility and a bad tooth I never complained about. Well, I never complain about anything! Just don’t know how.

My mom tried a holistic vet who actually pushed drugs on us. Well, going from active on an acre of land daily – running my paws off – to almost dead, depressed, constant 24/7 itch, infant socks for a month, taking tons of pills… That was a challenge.

I can relate to what your pill-pushing mom has to go through, but since I am on your side, I can help make the sour taste leave fast. My mom takes pricey grass-fed meat (buffalo, lamb, turkey-hater, beef). She sticks my pill in the middle of the patty. Every so often I can pick out the pill but usually I’m fooled.

My mom is radical so she fusses when she hears the word drugs addressed to anyone in our family. I am now eating veggies grated in my patty too. She fools me. I am taking pricey yogurt (6 ou. $2.39) daily-1 TABlespoon. I don’t know what a pill pocket is but my mom’s way tricks me good.

My mom said I will never take any more meds or do any form of surgery. I’ll be 11 years old next month. I was adopted at 1 from a shelter. My real name was “Lucky,” but the shelter told them I was “Molly.” I was slow to respond. Can you see why? No I jump high when my mom calls “Molly!”

I am finally back outside lots now and I am RECOVERED from Lupus.

My mom is going to write a book about my story. Okay – 3 books maybe: My story, her story tied into relationships, her other story about me and business talk. See how popular I am becoming. Hope we talk soon. I don’t have a site for you to write me a love note, but mom is feeling led to believe it’s coming.

Oh, you are a beautiful dog, Gracie! I see you get on the Seattle Metro Bus. Did you have to pay for a seat?

Bye and with love, Molly, the recovered 10 1/2 year old Lupus dog
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From Gracie: Wow, thanks, Molly! You wrote a great post for us. I don’t have to pay for a seat on the bus because I fit in my mom’s lap. I am not allowed to have my own seat and I do not ride on the floor. I am a princess and we don’t do floors.

You have a great mom. I can’t have meat patties because I’m on a special diet for my sensitive tummy. But your mom sounds great. I will tell Cathy to listen. She needs all the help she can get.

Thanks for reminding me I am beautiful. I’m a Canine Urban Princess and my mom is not allowed to forget.

Vet visit a mixed blessing

On the plus side, my food has gotten better. The vet gave my mom some big cans of meaty dog food. “One half can three times a day!” they said.

“That’s a lot of food,” my mom said, but she’s feeling desperate. She hates those late-night trips to let me Do My Business. So I lucked out.

On the other hand, my mom has been shoving these sour-tasting pills down my throat twice a day. She tries to disguise them in something called a “pill pocket.” I may not be literate but I know the difference between a pill pocket and a treat. The vet fooled me into accepting one pill pocket so my mom bought a whole box. I spit out the first one. Now she’s back to prying my jaw open and tossing a pill down, because I am too well-mannered to snap or resist. Biting the hand that feeds you is not my style.

“Worse than giving pills to a cat,” the mom says.

Do I feel better? Too soon to tell. But I’m getting feistier about resisting those pills.

Another trip to the vet

Chloe the Receptionist at Urban Vet Recognizing My Royal Qualities — Recetionist at Urban Vet Recognizing My Royal Qualities

Good grief…my mom’s been a little slow. For the last few days I’ve been under the weather. We won’t go into the details (my mom has declared certain topics off limits) but let’s just say, I woke her up a few times in the middle of the night so I could Do My Business.

After a few days on the rice diet, I was a very hungry dog. Fortunately my Aunt Sara, who escorts me to Magnuson Park twice a week, said, “Maybe Gracie has giardia.”

My mom trusts Aunt Sara so off we went to the vet. Here the receptionist is persuading me to step on the scale. When it comes to weight, my mom and I share the same views: who cares as long as we’re fit and fabulous?

I tested negative for giardia and parasites, thank goodness. The vet today, that nice Dr. Angel, told me I was a beautiful dog. Then she gave my mom some special food and a bottle of antibiotics. I felt better already.

My mom almost needed medical attention when she got the bill. I have to be on good behavior for a few more days.

Now, here’s what cats should look like…

Don With New Cats in Southern California

My mom’s friend Charlie lives in California. They’ve only met once but they talk on the phone and feel like close friends. Charlie has always been one of my biggest fans.

Recently Charlie’s second cat died. Unlike my mom, who heads to the nearest animal shelter and grabs the first available cat, Charlie and his partner Don were sensible. They took their time and chose these two small cats from animal shelters in Southern California. The picture shows Don, whom we’ve never met, but he’s obviously very sensitive.

Notice how cute and small these cats are. Bandit, a male, is wearing the white mask. Smoki is a female. I bet they would never, ever go into a dog’s cage or take the dog’s favorite spot on the couch.

Got the hint, mom? We got Ophelia the two-ton wonder who began taking over as soon as she arrived. Ophelia’s bigger than both these cats put together and she literally knows how to throw her weight around.

Dogs don’t usually use words like “literally” but when your mom’s a copywriter, anything goes.