Was Zum Teufel?!
Okay, I’ve decided to post on Tuesdays. Here’s my first attempt. And I’ll be totally honest: I’m modelling this after one of my favorite columns from one of my favorite publications, The Stranger’s "Last Days" by writer David Schmader.
Tuesday, August 21 – Today commenced with an in-depth look into the amazing canine digestive system. I woke up at 4.00a to the sound of Mies retching and a pile of, ummm…something near the door; I wasn’t sure what. Thank GOD we have hardwood floors. Unlike peanut butter and jelly, dogs and carpet do not mix.
Anyway, at first glance, I thought he had just coughed up an ingested paper towel. Upon very close inspection, however, I discovered that what I had assumed to be a paper towel was actually nothing of the sort. Well, not really. It was a used sanitary napkin. Don’t even ask.
Wednesday, August 22 – Nothing dog related happened at our house today, but something horribly dog related happened at a house in Gig Harbour. A disabled woman was asleep in her bed when two pit bulls got in through a dog door and attacked her and her neighbor’s Jack Russell Terrier, killing the small dog. She managed to escape the terror and flee to her car where she called 911. After spending three days in the hospital, she faces plastic surgery and chronic pain. The two pit bulls face the death penalty. Their lame-ass owners, a felony. And responsible pit bull owners the continued predujiced, evil stares from people who don’t know that when raised humanely and properly socialized, pit bulls can be nicer than Weimaraners, even.
Note to self: forget about installing doggie doors; teach Oslo and Mies how to use litter boxes or the toilet while we’re at work instead.
Thursday, August 23 – Nothing happened today, unless you count the nine or so times I had to pick up dog shit.
Friday, August 24 – To celebrate the suspension of that pathetic example of a dog hater/drowner/murderer, Michael Vick, I decided to take Oslo and Mies downtown to Seattle’s Regrade Park. For those of you who don’t know, Regrade Park is an off-leash area in the heart of Belltown, created to help curb drug-related activity in the area. Formerly known as "Heroin Park", it is now a great little off-leash area where you can run your dog and get your crack, too!
And, apparently, drink your beer. We saw a couple there with "open containers", the contents of which they were pouring into used paper coffee cups to drink from to disguise their lawlessness. I mean, it is Seattle, right? The coffee capital of the US, where drinking a triple espresso at 10.00p is nothing suspect.
Saturday, August 25 – Mies learns to open drawers (does this dog sprout hands when I’m not looking??!!). Since I’ve gotten so good at keeping stuff he might want off the counters, he’s decided to give me the finger by learning new tricks. He has enough experience to know that good things come in plastic packages: my box of quart-size Ziploc bags that were securely stored in a kitchen drawer when I left were chewed and scattered about the kitchen floor. This is either a testament to his being really hungry or a canine’s way of showing what his owner really thinks of the TSA’s one bag limit.
We also hiked Tiger Mountain this morning. When a guy with our group wondered aloud if the Weims would be tired after such a climb, Oslo and Mies decide to show him by running 3,000 feet straight up with three hikers each strapped to their backs. Tired Weims? Yeah, right.
Sunday, August 26 – Oslo sneezed and wheezed all day. Not normal.
Monday, August 27 – Olso sneezed and wheezed some more. I called Stephanie (our wonderful breeder to whom we owe so much for giving us such wonderful dogs) who said, "The first thing I thought about was a foxtail. Hopefully, it is not this."
After Googling foxtails and discovering they can kill dogs by getting lodged, implanted, and infected in various canine body parts and internal organs, I vow to start a petition among dog owners, suggesting they be re-named "evil, velcro little sons-of-bitches". I also freak out, imagining Oslo lying on the couch at that very moment, dead from a foxtail lodged in his right eyeball, with Mies countersurfing like mad in a desperate effort to find the phone so he can call 911.
I rush home from work ASAP and take him to Greenlake Animal Hospital, wishing for the next three hours that the Family Medical Leave Act covered invalid doggie care.
After his exam, the vet finds nothing conclusive and puts him on the next day’s surgery schedule for a nasal otoscopy, e.g., one helluv an expensive foxtail search. In the meantime, Mies has found the phone and invited his friend Kato, my friend Lisa’s Standard Poodle, for a sleepover.
Tuesday, August 27 – While Oslo is being drugged and strapped to an exam table, Mies, Kato and I – while on our morning walk – are photographed to represent "the community" in a group photo with a bunch of teachers at McClure Middle School. Later that evening, I go to pick up Oslo from the vet. He’s been given an almost clean bill of health. No foxtails were discovered up his nose or any other body cavity, but they did find an abnormal swelling in his throat near his right tonsil. This requires several additional medical procedures, bringing the total bill to nearly twice the original estimate of $379.
On my way home, I listen to a segment on NPR about Iraqi children dying due to lack of sanitary medical facilities. Having just come out of a sparkling clean exam room used to treat rich white people’s pets, I wonder why the Bushies don’t create a program to bring injured Iraqis to American vet hospitals for treatment. Then they would at least be eligible for the same medical care our pets receive. Ain’t Capitalism great??!