Little Dog in a Big World

Today was the day that Misha gets out of the hood.  It may have been the worse day yet–for me, not her.

She started the morning by eating breakfast.  Then when I turned my back, she threw it all up.  I hadn’t planned on taking her hood off before I had my breakfast, but there was no choice unless I was going to tie her to my back while I cleaned the play pen.

With the blanket in the washer, she was in the play pen for the first time in almost two weeks hood free.  She licked but did not concentrate on the wound.  I think she was reassociating herself with her body parts.  LOL

After breakfast, I let her go free.  She did her best wild party dance running from room to room as if she hadn’t seen the house in weeks.  Then she did something she has never done.  She squatted to poop in my bedroom!  I rushed her out, but found two presents that landed before we made it to the door.

We played then took a walk.  At lunchtime, I put her in the play pen.  I got her food and was ready to get her when I realized she peed…on the same blanket I had just taken out of the dryer.  I swear, that’s the cleanest blanket in the house!

Finally she got her lunch, the play pen was clean again, and I was off to do some chores.  All of this before noon!

Misha was due for her one week check up today.  The first order of business was to figure out how to get her into the car without causing a mid-road collision.  She wouldn’t fit in the crate and there was no other way to secure her.

I decided the best way was on my lap where I could make sure she didn’t attack the driver.  She was a very good passenger.  She stood up to the window to catch all the scenes going by, then she laid down in my lap and rested.

The Vet visit was short and sweet.  The technician took Misha into the back and then they were done.  Her incision was healing very well.  I am told this is unsusual for small active dogs since the owners have a rough time keeping them calm.

So, she is healing very well.  She’ll be off her meds on the 12th and then out of the hood on the 15th.

Life in the hood isn’t always fun.  First, Misha got her jaw stuck in the hood while trying to get a toy.  That really didn’t help matters.  Then, I there was the day I decided to give her a break…big mistake.

She decided she preferred life outside the hood.  Once it was off, there was no way that hood was getting near her.  After making alot of attempt, I quit in frustration.  I let her be and she immediately when for the her wound.  I only hoped that once she took the sedative, I could slip it on.

So after lunch, I gave her the sedative and waited.  I walked her around the block, around the porch, and around the house.  Soon, I had a drowsy eyed, calm puppy in my arms.  I easily slipped the hood over her head–no problem at all.

She’s keeping the sucker on!  There’s no way I’m doing this multiple times a day.

As Misha approached 7 months old, I had to seriously think about getting her spayed.  As much as I enjoy having a puppy, a litter of them is just way too much to even think about.  I’m such a sucker.  I wouldn’t be able to give any away.

So Thursday was Misha’s day.  We were up at the crack of dawn to get her to the veterinarian office by 7:30 am.  Boy, was she mad that her food bowl was empty!

I got a phone call at noon.  Everything went fine.

At 5pm, we went to pick her up.  My poor little puppy looked like she’d been through the wringer.  She stood in her travel bag with her hood of shame as if paralyzed.

At home, she sunk into her blankets in the playpen and whined…and whined…and whined…Nothing seemed to console her.  She finally nodded off an hour later.

She ate some food and took her first pain pill.  Then went back to sleep.  Around 10pm, she began to whine again.  I sat with her and pet her, keeping her calm.  She didn’t calm down until after midnight when she dozed off.

She got through the night okay with a couple of whimpers.  At least, that day is over.

Last night, Misha came home after being spayed.  I really didn’t expect to have many problems as she is a fairly good natured dog.  Was I ever wrong!

Misha woke up in the play pen instead of her crate which seemed to put her into instantaneous panic mood.  I could picture her thinking “What the frig is this thing around my neck and why were is my favorite blanket???”

She ate just fine, but giving her the medication was a nightmare.  She took the pill with alot of peanut butter.  The syringe filled with Metacam?  No way!  She freaked out, growled, snarled, tried to flee.  It wasn’t a very good start.  I ended up squirting it into my hand and letting her lap it up.

After an hour or so more of whining, I called the Vets.  The prescribed a sedative since she seemed to be going through anxiety of some sort.

The next day was so much easier.  The sedative calmed her down alot.  She wasn’t as afraid of the hood.  And forget squirting the syringe into her mouth.  I did it into my hand and she licked it up like soda.

I was happy to finally see her calm.  It was going to be a rough recovery if she was freaked out the entire time.

Between October and November, Misha mellowed out into a wonderful puppy.  Then something happened.  Her fangs decided to fall out.

One cheery Sunday, she became the puppy from hell.  She beat up on everyone she could.  Every time she went outside she attack the grass as if it were her mortal enemy.  She chewed up so much grass that I was bracing myself for cleaning up puke at 2 am.

She was just plain old mean.  I brought her in at 3:30 from yet another trip to the grass.  She had this wild look in her eyes.  I played with her trying to burn off some of the meanness.

I noticed red spots on some of the toys and realized she was bleeding.  When I looked it her mouth, her lower right fang was gone.

She seems so happy after that.  She relaxed and lost her meanness.

It was short lived.  For the next week and a half, she was onery, feisty, mean.  The lower left fang and upper right fang were loose at the same time.  They bent at odd angles for 2 or 3 days and then fell out.  Then we waited for the last one.   She chewed on everything.  Her plastic crate has no corners, the grass has been beheaded beyond regeneration, five of her toys had to go in the garbage because they were beyond needle and thread.

Finally, after almost two weeks, the last fang fell out.  When she lost her upper teeth, almost all at once, she did a little more chewing but her personality only changed mildly.  The fangs were a nightmare!  I guess her gums were so painful that she decided to take it out on everyone.

She’s feeling alot better a week later.  She’s still doing alot of chewing.  But the mean behavior has subsided.  Soon this phase will be over and she’s be the sweet puppy again…I hope…

Misha was so tiny when I got her.  From her first visit to the Vet in July to her last shot in September she only gained 3 lbs.  It seems she was destined to live up to the name the breeder gave her, “Peanut”.

Something happened around 5 1/2 months old.  She stretched out.  I don’t think she is much taller, but she is definitely longer, which makes up for things.  By 6 months, she became muscular and you didn’t see her puppy feet pajama paws anymore.  Luckily, I bought the longer travel crate.  Otherwise, she’d be all scrunched up with her head in the door.

She has still gained only 2 lbs since September.  She now weighs 7.2 lbs.  I seriously doubt she will ever make 10 lbs unless she has an amazing growth spurt or I over feed her.  I’m counting on my ability to not to the latter and I seriously doubt the former.

This dog cracks me up!  I’ve never had a burrowing dog and it’s hilarious to watch her play with her blanket. I wonder if all Jack Russell’s are so creative and ambitious with their sleeping arrangements.

Here are a few of my favorites…

Each puppy has their own personality and problems.   I was told that until 4 months a puppy can go roughly 3 hours without going to the bathroom.  I was very fortunate from the start that Misha slept all night without any accidents.  But, during the day she the potty queen.

I soon realized that Misha could be near a full bowl of water.  It didn’t matter how much water I put it in.  Her goal in life was to drain it.

One day, it was close to 100F.  Misha was running around and very thirsty.  She drank and drank and drank.  I soon realized the extent of our folly.  She became a pee fest.  Her poor little tummy ached, she whined and cried, and she peed everywhere–every 5 to 10 minutes.

Thankfully, after 3-4 hours she cleared herself out.  I learned a lesson.  From that point on, I rationed her water.  I put in enough to satisfy her and refilled it at certains times during the day.  I never deprived her of water on a hot day or over long periods of time, but I made sure that she waited an hour or two before having another go at it.  It made a difference.  She no longer had multiple accidents.

She was checked out by her Vet.  It was decided that since there were no other symptoms it was a puppy thing that she would hopefully grow out of.

I’ve notice over the last couple of weeks she has gotten out of water gorging.  She can now take a few laps of water and leave the rest.  I’m hoping that very soon I can fill the bowl the whole way and not have to worry that she will gorge on it.

The Veterinarian was concerned about the initial bruising Misha suffered from her first shot, so she decided to do her puppy shots over 4 visits.  On September 14th, she finally got her rabies shot.  Misha became legal

I had been walking Misha on leash in the backyard.  I also kept her on leash in the house to assist with dog training and potty breaks.  So, Misha was fairly comfortbable with the leash.

I had been walking her out front while carrying her since day one.  She was getting more and more used to the happenings out front and wasn’t as skittish.

Walking on leash out front was a whole new ball game.  It took Misha awhile to learn heel.  Then she had a funny way of going about out walks.  She would walk behind me, sometimes being dragged when we walked away from the house.  But when we started heading home, she did the last few houses on two legs as if we were in a marathon and needed to sprint to the finish line.

It took a couple of weeks of stop and turn and pulsing the leash to get her to go in the same direction as me.  We’re still working on it.

It’s been an adjustment for me.  I am used to a 75 lb dog whose head is near my hand.  Any time I needed to get her attention I just needed to tap her.  She also understood my moves.  She’d untangle herself from poles, walk around gunk on the ground, and do other things with simple commands.  I understood Sierra’s different moves.  I knew when she found food on the ground or when a cat was close by.

It took me awhile to get it into my head that Misha was not Sierra.  I could not expect a 4 month old puppy to know the things that a 13 year old dog knew.  We’re getting there.  It’s taking time, but we’re starting to understand each other.