Well, I might have mentioned that we have 2 dogs. They’re akitas and we love them dearly. As caring doggie parents, we try to take good care of them, walk them, hug them and feed them good food.
Believe it or not, our search for just the right kibble for these two has been a labour of love that took years. We’re not newcomers at the dog food store. We’ve had other fussy eaters before but Ocean, our little princess, beats them all.
River, our tubby guy, will eat anything not nailed to the floor. That, itself is an issue, because we don’t want him to be unhealthy.
So, our kibble has to be perfect for both Ocean and River because to have 2 different brands would send us over the edge into insanity. We have searched, asked experts, compared the tiny ingredient writing in the bags and changed our minds a hundred times. Finally, we have one that we agree on and that our doggies like.
So, what do we do? We add things to it.
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that this morning was glorious. I sat on the deck watching my two dogs sniffing every corner of the yard and chasing one bird that was obviously up to no good and loved every minute. It was not too hot, it was sunny and there was the promise of more days like this to come.
If we were having coffee, I’d tel you that I discovered a little bump on River and we were at the vet’s almost immediately that same day. Turns out, it was a hair cell that has grown too large and not a deadly form of cancer as I feared. The vet patiently explained it all to us while my hubby rolled his eyes.
Finally, I’d wish you a Happy Father’s Day.
A huge thanks to Eclectic Alli for hosing Coffee Share and to you, my lovely reader, for reading!
These steps vary somewhat, but I honestly follow most of them pretty much every Saturday morning.
My husband and I own two dogs. Since they’re akitas, they’re apt to howling instead of barking and have an insane amount of fur.
Well, said fur might be lovely but it knots like anything. So I brush it. Daily. I was in the middle of doing just that when I felt something hard and weird deep under River’s fur.
I couldn’t tell what it was and he wasn’t really inclined to let me poke around. So I waited until he was eating. River is food-driven, so he notices nothing while he eats. As soon as he started chewing, I started moving fur around.
And found this.
The thing wasn’t in his fur. It was stuck deep into his flesh and hidden by the fur. The dark part was where it was imbedded into him and blood had soaked it to that colour. I pulled it out and stared in horror at the hole it left behind. I ran for the antibiotic ointment and applied that while River was finishing his meal (he eats really fast).
This…thing was in the fleshy part of his hind leg, where he couldn’t reach, so at least the ointment was going to stay put. River didn’t seem upset or even aware that I had done this but I was almost in tears.
That’s where it was, deep inside there. It was really hard to even find it and pretty much sheer luck that I did. Still, it left me pretty shaken up and I was determined to perform a close inspection of all his fur, just in case there were any other things stuck in there.
Of course, I didn’t find any more. But what were they? And where did they come from? And how did they end up on the thigh of my doggie?
Looking around the yard, I found these seeds and I think that’s what imbedded itself into River’s back thigh. There are thousands of these all over the yard thanks to the massive tree that sheds them.
I still have no idea how that seed ended up embedded inside River and no way to keep them away from River or Ocean. Raking the entire lawn one day only caused exhaustion and I was certain I heard the tree laugh as it spilled even more seeds to the ground.
For the next few days, I hovered anxiously over each dog as they stepped outside into a minefield of dangers. With an eagle eye, I followed every movement and dashed outside to prevent certain disaster more than once.
The entire discovery was pretty disturbing and, while my therapist hubby assured me that my feelings were okay and I needed to ‘stay true to my process’, I searched River for signs of PTSD.
River didn’t seem to be ‘processing’ anything. In fact, he seemed oblivious to the entire process. While I still searched his legs for other deadly impaled objects, he played with his bit of rope.
River’s lack of enthusiasm aside, I still think I did a good deed for my pooch. I gave myself a pat on the back for being a good doggie mom.
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