Monday, October 4, 2010

Jack the jack

Bought some dog food yesterday; not Bella's usual, but the owners offered me a 30-lb bag for 20 percent off. In the evening, in the driving rain, I met Jack the Jack Russell in a Safeway parking lot; a kind WV volunteer had driven five hours to DC to deliver him to me.
Jack was freaked out, but calmed down when I let him lie on my lap for the ride home. In the apartment, the sweetie had to sniff everything, of course, but he also felt the need to lift his leg on some things too. I managed to stop him just before he peed, lifting him up only to watch a stream of urine arc through the air and land on a shirt of mine in the basket against the wall. Nice.

Tonight was quite something and I'm about to drop, so I'm getting this down fast. Not enough sleep, as I crated Jack so he wouldn't pee freely, and he was not pleased. Loudly not pleased. Opened the door tonight to the acrid smell of poop.

Rushed the dogs out to let them do their business, and it was Bella who had the diarrhea. I had forgotten to mix the new food in with the old. Came home and checked the bathroom and, sure enough, she'd pooped all over the floor.

As I walked back and forth between garbage and mess, Shadow, aka Jack, followed close at my heels. When I came back out in the living room, something was all over the floor. Pee? Not sure. Cleaned it up. Between all the cleaning, scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed my hands. Turned my back to scoop out some kibble and one of them peed (spit up?) in the same spot I'd just been scrubbing.

Once everything was clean and I had washed my hands for long enough that I could consider eating, I enjoyed some tomatoes with feta, after which Jack achieved his aim of being constantly petted. Leaning down low to pat his little head, I couldn't balance a newspaper on my lap, so I was forced to watch that show on MTV about the New Jersey 'guidos' who tan and pull each others' hair.

I left out that Jack has a rash of some sort and the poor boy is itching like crazy. I wrestled him for five full minutes to get some Benedryl down his throat. He kept spitting it out. At one point, I thought he had swallowed it, but he waited til I set him on the ground and, yet again, he spit it out. Had to laugh.

But got him to swallow and now, about 40 minutes later, he's resting--without my hand on him--on the floor. Oh wait, he's up. And back itching. Poor boy.

Poor me :).

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