You can teach an old dog new tricks

Zoey has lived with us for the past eleven years and for the majority of those years, remained in either the house or yard. She (and Coco) didn’t get to go on neighborhood walks (or open space hikes) because they were out of control on leashes. When they saw another dog, no matter how far off in the distance, they’d bark, growl, lunge, and generally behave in a bat-shit manner.

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Zoey right after we got back from today’s walk.

At one point early on, we spent a whole lot of money to have a personal dog trainer work with us. That strategy ultimately failed because of a lack of consistency. The dogs responded to me as the alpha, but couldn’t care less about pushover-Zippy’s commands or young Wildebeest and Zebu with their high voices and unassertive attitudes. The dogs still believed they were the alphas who needed to protect the pack.

It all came to a head years ago when I took Zoey and Coco for a walk. They went nuts when they saw another dog, and in their ensuing barking / twirling / lunging, knocked me to the ground. Both my knees were thoroughly black and blue.

That was it for me. I no longer felt guilty about having two dogs that never, ever left the yard.

And then Coco died. To help Zoey through her grief, we started walking her once a day. I’ll admit that it hasn’t been an entirely pleasant experience (one walk lasted a full three minutes because I had to drag Zoey home after she went ballistic at the sight of another dog), but I am pleased to say we’re having some enjoyable walks. Today’s, for example.

Zoey still has an alpha attitude, but she’s older and wiser (and a little less strong). I’m grateful we can give our old girl the gift of a daily walk.

 

 

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Synchronized sunbathing

marcel-and-zoey-in-sun

Marcel and Zoey soaking up the sun together.

Zippy took this with his phone so quality isn’t great, and I’m wishing I’d adjusted Zoey’s tail to match Marcel’s (and maybe also Zoey’s rear left leg), but other than that, it’s a perfect photographic representation of their friendship.

 

 

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Coco, RIP

cocofor-rip

Joined the family August 18, 2005
Said goodbye November 17, 2016

You came to us as Cocoa, and Wildebeest changed that to Coco.
Over the years you were our Coco Sue, Susan, and Speckled Snake Dog.
No matter the name, you were always our funny friend
with the big eyes and catfish whiskers.
You could run faster and see farther than anyone,
and now you can do that forevermore.
Plus eat all the poop you want.

Rest in peace, Coco Sue.

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Hey ho! Let’s Go!

Okay, this is a stretch.
Coco isn’t a Ramones fan
and she doesn’t sing Blitzkrieg Bop.

Still.

This expression, as she stands at the door waiting to be let inside for dinner, just screams HEY! HO! LET’S GO!Coco

Or maybe I’m projecting a punk attitude on her because I know how when that door opens she’ll run inside and her back legs will go out from under her as she negotiates the turn to her food dish. Pure mosh pit enthusiasm.

Hey! Ho!

 

 

 

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Do unto others

Yesterday I posted some photos of myself along with a few words about my uneasy relationship with cameras aimed my way. Less than 24 hours later, I took out my camera and pointed it at Zoey.
Zoey at rest

Zoey doesn’t like her picture taken, either. I know this and yet I sometimes try to coax her into looking my way. She’s a big-hearted dog who wants to please me so she usually complies.
Zoey with faraway gaze

But only up to a certain point. Then she lets me know I’ll have to settle for blurred images.
Zoey has enough

Oh, my Sweet Zotato. Thank you for not sinking your teeth into the pushy photographer.

 

 

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Not Everyone Enjoys Loud Noises

Happy Independence Day.
Whoop. Whoop.

This time of year is trauma-inducing for many dogs (including my own) because of the exploding fireworks. It’d be one thing if the fireworks only happened on July 4th. But people in my neighborhood have been shooting off stuff for the last several nights and will continue to do so throughout the week.

Zoey is a nervous wreck.
Zoey on deck

It’s hard witnessing your dog cram herself beneath your bedside table and then shiver in fear. There’s no way to get her to understand some humans’ need for loud noises and flashing colors. If I don’t grasp the concept, she’s not gonna get it, either.

I realize I’m not going to change anyone’s mind about all this. (The other night I waited for a lull in the explosions and then yelled out my window: “It’s July 2nd, people!” A few seconds later, the fireworks recommenced). However, I want to note that there’s another way to exhibit July patriotism. Go to MuckRock and file a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request to help make our government transparent. Today is the 50th anniversary of the Freedom of Information Act, and that’s definitely something worth celebrating in a non-exploding way!

When It’s Good to Be Wrong

Yesterday I took Zoey to the vet for a thorough check-up because I was sure there was something seriously wrong with her. I was sure she had a tumor, just as our long-ago Packy had a tumor that made her mid-section feel just as Zoey’s did on Sunday.

I was wrong! Zoey does not have a tumor. Zoey is overweight and may need medication for her blood pressure, but otherwise is doing pretty well for an older gal.

Hooray for being wrong!

 

Batman, red leaves, cat and dogs 012

One Very Average Dog

“The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.”
~ Andy Rooney

Zoey and Lebowski 002Zoey, of the unconditional love and bad breath, is at the vet’s right now receiving a “senior exam.” I’m hoping I’m wrong about what I sense. Either way, I’m leaving now to pick her up and bring her home to her best friend, Coco. The reunion will result in tail-wagging that would sting my legs if I was foolish enough to get in the way.magpie, coco, and zoey 012