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Sleep Is For The Weak

January 13, 2011 By

We’ve had Greta for about three months now. In that time, she’s transformed from a super skittish rescue dog to a super clingy Mama’s dog, and charms both Mister and myself on a daily basis with her big brown eyes. We’ve dealt with house training, health issues, and all the other fun stuff that comes with adopting a rescue dog. Once we seemed to have things settled down a bit, another problem pops up.

One night as I was getting ready for bed, Greta excitedly jumped in bed as she always does. She seems to think that when I get into bed, it’s time to jump on top of Mommy and lick her face. I don’t know what happened this particular night, but I was walking in and out of the bedroom, and when I walked back in, I smelled the unmistakable odor of urine.

I started looking around, not happy that I would be cleaning up a mess before going to bed – especially since this particular night was one in which I stayed up way too late, unable or unwilling to tear myself away from the internet. I looked and looked, and did not see wet carpet anywhere. That’s when it dawned on me. Greta didn’t pee on the floor.

She peed in our bed. The one I was just about to get into.

Mister helped me change the sheets, and I got out the mini carpet steamer that we have (one of the best purchases ever). I used it to suck up as much urine as I could. We turned the mattress so that the wet spot was at our feet instead of our heads, and I sprayed it with Febreze before putting a towel down on it to soak up any additional damp. New sheet, old crappy comforter, and I was ready for bed.

Since then, we’ve had a few more bedwetting incidents. Greta would either pee in our bed when I was getting ready for bed, or in the middle of the night when she was sleeping. Once I got up at 2am to take her out, where she did #2 before coming back in and peeing all over my side of the bed. Mister said he thought I was going to drop kick her that night. I was NOT a happy camper.

I didn’t think a vet visit was necessary since I had brought her in just a couple weeks before this all began for the issue of not finding any evidence of her having peed at all. He took a urine sample, which left me feeling broke and my poor dog feeling violated, and prescribed a new dog food and antibiotics for the crystals he found. She hasn’t had much issue going since then, so I’m not about to repeat that adventure. I’m sure Greta is in full agreement with me on that one.

Anyway, I asked my trusty friend Google what was going on with my dog. And believe it or not, since we ruled out medical, this isn’t a training issue. It’s more of a development issue. Greta’s a rescue dog, remember, so even though she’s about 4 years old, there are some developmental things that were missed, like trust and socialization. I found this post on why dogs pee in our beds. It confirmed my theory that this was not a training issue, and I came up with some ideas.

After going through the change the sheets in the middle of the night routine one too many times, I decided that enough was enough. I bought a waterproof mattress pad. I bought doggie diapers that I put on Greta right before bed. The mattress pad is not hot and not uncomfortable to sleep on, which is a plus for the humans who sleep in the bed. The diapers look silly, and Greta seems to think she’s an invalid when she’s wearing them, but our bed has stayed dry.

The first night we had the diapers, I woke up when Greta got a case of the wild in the middle of the night. I heard her jump off the bed, and instinctively sat up. She got all excited because woo hoo! Mommy’s up! Time to play! I just laid back down without acknowledging her. She got over herself pretty quick, and instead of jumping back in bed, decided to bed down in the pile of dirty clothes on the floor next to me. It gave me an idea.

I decided to see if I could transition her to sleeping in her own bed. She has 2, one in the office where we spend most of our waking hours, and one in the living room, where we currently spend as little time as possible because it’s too cold, thanks to our state-of-the-art, builder basic unbalanced heating and cooling system. I took her downstairs bed and put it on the floor next to my side of the bed, and went to bed as usual. Greta had her diaper on, did her usual jumping on me routine, and I finally fell asleep after I was able to nudge her off me. When I woke up the next morning, Greta was asleep in her bed, and I was cuddling with Mister.

(That’s another issue – Greta likes to wedge herself between us at night so we can’t cuddle. Mister was getting more and more displeased with this habit of her not letting anyone near her Mom.)

It’s only been one night as of this writing, but so far it shows promise. I want my dog to feel secure with her humans and her new home, and I want to feel secure knowing that I will get a full night’s sleep on the same sheets I started with. We’ll see how it goes. As much as Greta might not think so, I really do need my sleep.

Filed Under: Dog, Sleepy

Locked Out

November 19, 2010 By

This past weekend (when we weren’t being lazy), Mister and I bought a doggie door for Greta so she can let herself out at will. It’s the kind that installs into an existing sliding door, and Mister put it in since he’s better at that sort of thing than I am.

Instead of installing the latch, Mister made a new hole for the security latch at the bottom of the door. I didn’t even know we had it, but now that I did, it was giving me trouble. Mister showed me how it worked, but it just didn’t like me. First, I couldn’t get it unlocked. Then I couldn’t lock it back up. It’s no secret that simple mechanical devices don’t like me, but I should have mastered this.

Monday morning, after I got ready for work I went to take Greta out one last time before leaving for the day. While she likes her doggie door (so long as the flap isn’t down – she’s still afraid of the flap), she still much prefers me to go out with her. I went out the human door, closed it, and encouraged Greta to do her thing. She sniffed a few rocks and went back into the house through her door. I tried to follow.

When I tried to open the slider to get back in the house, it didn’t move. At first I thought that the weatherstripping fell down again, but I should have been able to push that out of the way to open the door. This wasn’t weatherstripping. This was very stuck at the bottom. It was the security latch. Somehow it had locked itself after I went out the door.

So there I was, ready to go to work, locked out of the house. The garage door was closed, the front door and slider were locked, as were all the windows. Mister was upstairs sleeping, and my car keys and phone were on the counter, way out of reach since my arms aren’t 12 feet long.

I stuck my head through the doggie door, but since Greta isn’t a huge dog, there was no way I was going to fit through it. I called for Greta, who came over, licked my face, pointed and laughed, and walked away. I stood up again, trying to figure out what to do.

I decided to go to the front door and ring the doorbell. I figured if I rang it enough times, Mister would hear it, get pissed off, and answer the door in a huff. I started ringing the doorbell with an incessant determination. I also found out that my dog doesn’t make a fuss when the doorbell rings. Figures. The one time ever I want her to bark like a maniac, and she goes back upstairs to go to sleep.

Twenty minutes of doorbell ringing and pounding on the door failed to wake Mister, so I gave up on that. I thought about throwing rocks at the bedroom window, but I figured that with my aim, I’d either miss the house entirely or break a neighbor’s window, so I nixed that idea. I started wondering if I could figure out enough about the electrical systems to go to the main wiring into the house and set off the fire alarm, since that would be sure to wake Mister, but since I spent half my childhood being very afraid of the simple act of plugging and unplugging things, I wasn’t going to master this task in a reasonable amount of time.

I turned to simpler solutions. I stuck my head in the doggie door and started calling for help. I yelled as loud as I could, calling Mister’s name and yelling that I needed help, but again, he didn’t wake up. By this time I was late for work, and my husband was happily snoring away, probably having lovely dreams about doorbells.

Finally, I remembered something – the whole doggie door panel. It was spring loaded. It wasn’t screwed in. It should work – it had to work. I wedged the slider open as far as I could to get a bit of room on the top for my fingers, and was able to get the doggie door out and squeeze my fat ass into the house. I leaned the doggie door against the wall, closed the slider all the way, and went upstairs.

Greta was excited that I was home – she always gets excited when I come back home, no matter how long I’ve been gone. I went into the bedroom, and Greta enthusiastically followed and jumped on the bed. I walked around to Mister’s side of the bed, and Greta jumped on the big lump to get closer to me. That’s what finally woke him up – a 14lb dog jumping on him.

I told him my saga, and told him that he can put the doggie door back in. Since there was a security flaw with the previous installation, he put it in more securely this time. He pointed and laughed at me, then kissed me and sent me on my way to work, 45 minutes late. Yep, I was outside for about 40 minutes trying to get back into my house.

The stupid latch still hates me, but now I just don’t close the door all the way when I’m outside. I don’t want to go through that again.

Filed Under: Dog, House

Unconditional Love

November 13, 2010 By

Being a dog mama can be tough sometimes. We’ve barely had Greta a month, and I had to take her to the vet this week. Her eye snots have been getting really thick, and she’s been itching her eyes quite a bit. When I got home the other night, her right eye was full of yellow goop. So, to the vet we went.

She was a bit nervous yet excited about the car ride, but was a very good patient when we got to the doctor’s office. Since I didn’t really have much of a history on her other than what the shelter told us, I decided that we should do a full workup just to know where we’re at. Of course, the first news came during the consult. The vet didn’t believe that Greta is 3, like the adoption papers say. He had me show him her teeth, and then he said, “I’m not buying three. I think she’s a little older than that.” He puts her closer to 5.

Then he started throwing out a bunch of technical terms for what could be wrong with her eye, but he was zeroing in on dry eye. We’d had her about 3 weeks, the issue has been getting progressively worse, and later, after we got home, Mister said, “Remember at the shelter when they said she might need eye drops?” Yeah, we think the shelter knew that something was up.

The vet ran some tests, and turns out, her tear production is way down. Her pressure is fine, so she doesn’t have glaucoma, and the spot you see in the middle of her eyeball in this picture is not a reflection of anything, nor is it a cataract like we thought it might be. The vet said it’s a healed ulcer. Poor girl. She’s had a rough life, but we’re making it all better for her.

Five hundred dollars later, I left the vet’s office with prescriptions for cyclosporine, an antibiotic, and artificial tears. I was also promised a phone call for the results of her blood test and x-ray, since the radiologist needed to look at that.

Poor Greta does NOT like the eye meds very much, but she’s a trooper. She still loves us, and a few days later her eyes are looking 100% better.

Also, the vet’s follow-up phone call revealed that her bloodwork is fine. Her cholesterol and a pancreatic enzyme are slightly elevated, but nothing to be concerned about. Her x-rays show some indications of kennel cough, and her heart is a bit enlarged (mild generalized enlargement) so she was prescribed antibiotic pills for the kennel cough and since her heart isn’t a huge concern, we’ll just use this as a baseline and keep an eye on it.

In other Greta news, we bought a doggie door today. We got the kind that installs easily in the slider, and now Greta can let herself in and out to go potty. Well, she will be able to once she stops being afraid of the darn thing.

Greta is not a fan of the cold weather. It got cold here this week, and Greta’s not having any of it. As a result, potty training has taken a step backwards as she prefers the warmth of our living room carpet. Today was really nice, and we left the door open this morning, and she had no problem walking outside and laying some cable by herself, so once she gets over her fear of the escape hatch, I think we’ll be making some real progress.

Greta is getting more comfortable with her new home and humans. She warmed up to me right away but was skittish around Mister, but she’s starting to warm up to him too. She sleeps with us in bed at night, snuggling right between us and staying there all night long. She’s also such a lap dog – she never passes up an opportunity to sit in my lap. I actually considered getting one of those babywearing slings because I think Greta might be very happy snuggling with Mama all the time like that.

I never thought I’d spend that kind of money on medical care for a dog without blinking an eye, especially since I balk spending any kind of money on myself. I never understood the urge for parents to co-sleep with their children (don’t you want any privacy?) but now I love snuggling with my dog and can’t imagine not having her there. She’s needy and insecure and all she wants is for Mommy to pet her, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The amount of joy the little ball of fur has brought to our lives is amazing, and I love it. There’s nothing like it in the world.

Filed Under: Dog

And Puppy Makes Three

October 20, 2010 By

Meet Greta.

Greta 002

Mister and I adopted her last week.

We had been talking about it for awhile. We both had dogs growing up (I had cats too at my mom’s, but I prefer dogs). We went back and forth on it, but the thing that sealed the deal, so to speak, was my in-laws visiting. They brought their dog, Coco, and Mister saw how much fun I had playing with her in my own home. I always love playing with her when we visit, and having a dog in my house as opposed to visiting at their house was no different.

We found Greta at the Nevada SPCA website. They are a no-kill rescue shelter, and they have lots of dogs (and cats and other animals as well) that need loving homes. We had our eyes on one fella, a 1 year old MinPin, but when we met him he was a bit too energetic for me. Mister probably could have handled it, but to me it would be the canine equivalent of Jeffery and I don’t have the energy for that. Then we found a sweet little girl named Lizzie.

Lizzie was shy 3 year old MinPin, skittish with everyone and everything, and seemed most comfortable in my arms. We went out on the patio with her to get to know her a bit better, and we fell in love and renamed her Greta – it seemed to fit her more. We also found out her history.

She was a puppy mill dog that the SPCA had rescued. She’d had a few litters, but has since been fixed. She was then adopted out, but the woman who adopted her returned her six months later, saying that she barked incessantly and wasn’t bonding. It only took about an hour for Mister and I to call bullshit on the bonding issue, since Greta is reluctant to let us out of her sight. We also found out that her former home had other dogs, and my guess is that Greta, not being very aggressive at all, waited patiently for her turn at some affection and therefore never got any.

If you’re wondering why we went with a shelter, read Gala Darling’s 10 Reasons Why You Should Adopt a Rescue Animal. She basically put into words the reasons we did it.

She gets plenty of affection now, and she’s enjoying every minute of it.

We figured out that she’s never been properly house trained, since the intake papers from the woman who returned her said that Greta slept in the garage at night (very cruel in Las Vegas, since garages aren’t air conditioned), so we’re working on that. I woke up Saturday morning to find out my living room had been shit-bombed, necessitating a trip to the mega-mart to buy a compact carpet steamer. I also bought a crate for Greta, figuring that since she had taken to her doggie bed so well, she was either crate trained or could easily be crate trained. Both mornings she was in her crate, she started howling at 8:30am on the button. We’ll try training pads instead and see how it goes. If she goes on or very near the pads, we might have some progress. In the meantime, she’s not going much, but we aren’t really giving her a chance to go in the house – we’re taking her out every couple of hours.

Greta has been a lot of fun so far. It’s great watching her come out of her shell and become more comfortable. She’s not jumping so high anymore when she’s outside and the air conditioner goes on, and we still need to socialize her with other people, but we’ll get there. Funny, though, as jumpy as she is with all sorts of noises, she’s oblivious to the thunder we’ve had the past few days.

I’m glad we got a dog. She adds another dimension to our lives, and we are enjoying every minute of it. Plus, she’s so cuddly. How can you not love that?

Filed Under: Dog