Vet visit

Cooper had his yearly exam last weekend. I am happy to report that Cooper lost 4 pounds and is now a svelte 26 pound shiba. The vet said he can afford to lose another pound or two so he's still on a diet. Otherwise, that was the only good news I got from the vet. Well, besides the fact that he's still heartworm free, free of parasites, and doesn't have giardia or whatever it's called.

His blood work revealed that he has some toxins in his blood from his kidneys and livers not functioning properly. I haven't gotten him to the vet again for another test, but they're recommending I get another echocardiogram done on him to see if it's his heart murmur that's causing the changes in his kidneys and liver. They're not too worried about his kidneys at this point; they think he was just dehydrated at the time they took his blood. As of now, there's no way I can afford an echocardiogram.

So I have to take him to the vet again and get more bloodwork done to see if there are any changes; both good or bad. The animal hospital I take him to is one of the nicer ones in Denver, very expensive and in all honesty, over-priced considering I only talk to vet for 5 minutes and the vet techs for about 10. I wish there were cheaper animal hospitals by where I live but unfortunately, living in downtown, I have very few options. They just make me feel guilty when I decline certain tests done on Cooper when I know he doesn't need it or something.

Which makes me think, Cooper's been acting exactly the same, if anything he has more energy and actually wants to play more now that he's lost some weight. His quality of life doesn't seem to be any different, and he doesn't act/look like he's in any kind of pain. I really wonder how important getting another echocardiogram/additional blood tests are because I really feel like the vet hospital milks the money from their customers while giving back semi-shoddy care. I know as a pet owner you take on the responsibility of a pet regardless of how much it can cost you. You should be financially stable enough to provide the pet with basic care of food, shelter, and vet visits. It's emergency procedures or illnesses that really take a toll and unfortunately, Cooper would be denied insurance because of his pre-existing genetic defect.

I know that if Cooper has renal failure (and heaven forbid that happens) I would not get him dialysis. It wouldn't be worth the hundreds of dollars on getting that kind of treatment for him. I love him to death, but come on, there's a line to be drawn at some point. If he has cancer in the future or even now, I don't think I would treat it. I feel like that makes me a bad dog owner but really, is the quality of life for Cooper going to be worth the hundreds to thousands of dollars in treatment when he's going to be scared and miserable getting that treatment? It's really for our own selfish needs to make a pet suffer through treatment because we're the ones who are too afraid of letting go.

I want him to be happy. I want him to be pain free and since he can't talk and tell me when he hurts, I'm going to have to make that judgement in the end. I'm willing to get more bloodwork and monitor the liver situation, but if the vet recommends surgery or anything like that, I'm going to have to politely decline and and make sure Cooper is as comfortable he can be.

Dog sitting, again.

Since David and Mitch are in Argentina, lucky bitches, I'm watching Mitch's dogs while they're away. David's mom offered to watch Leila and I want to thank her from the bottom of my heart because I would die if I had to walk and take care of 4 dogs; 2 of which have way too much energy.

Bentley is a whippet, still kind of in that gawky teenage stage in life but sweet and cute as a button. The two absolute worse things about him is 1. He pulls too hard on his leash and while he has a martingale collar, he still chokes himself almost to death and 2. Whenever he sees you, he pees. He's so gosh darn excited that he pisses all over himself and everything around him while he jumps for joy; peeing all over you. Gross.

Izzie is a retired greyhound. I'm not quite sure how old she is; I think she's 8 or something. She's a senior dog but has a lot of energy and pep in her which I guess is good. The worst thing about her is that she poops and pees when she feels like it regardless of how long it's been since you took her out. I had to clean up after her twice and it's not fun at all. And she doesn't even pee when I take her out so I think she's peeing on the carpet and I just can't tell or something.

The nice thing about Bentley is that he's a cuddle bug. He just wants to sit in your lap and love you. And he likes to give kisses which I don't accept because he eats poop. Izzie walks really, really well on a leash and never pulls or zoom down the stairs. She likes to walk by your side or maybe a foot in front of you but she always looks at me while we walk. It's kinda creepy.

Anyway, as sweet as they are, and they really are sweet dogs, watching them makes me appreciate Cooper that much more. I love how he can hold his pee and poop until I take him out. I love how I can read his body language so I know what he's feeling. I love that he doesn't piss all over me when I come home, whether it's because he likes me or is mad at me. I love my little Choo Choo and I am so glad that he's my dog.

Merry Christmas, Cooper

Dear Cooper,

I'm sorry I didn't get you any toys this year and I'm sorry that I didn't take the time to include you in my holiday shopping. But, let's be honest and realistic, you don't have any concept of holidays and technically, everyday is like Christmas to you anyway.

Since the holidays are days you should spend with your loved ones, I'm glad I'll be spending Christmas with you. Just like we have for the last 3 years, you have been the only sense of family I have during the holiday season and well, everyday. So I want to thank your mischievous, apathetic, lazy, low energy ass for being my companion, source of entertainment, and the bane of my existence all rolled into a 30 pound doggy frame. I love you, Choo Choo.

P.S.--I did order you those organic extra thick bully sticks you love so much. Please return the favor and poop quickly instead of making me walk you for miles in this snow. Thanks.

Apathy

Last night Tyson and I were wrestling around and Cooper was sleeping in his house like always, not giving a shit even when I squealed out in pain. Tyson noticed and said, "Most dogs go ballistic when their owners are wrestling around with other people" and I replied, "Yeah, Cooper couldn't care less what happens to me."

My first dog Sari would literally go bananas when anyone hugged in front of her, pretended to hit each other, or mimicked any kind of physical contact. She would wedge herself between us and try to push us apart and she was the kind of dog that never jumped up on anyone. I can't even imagine what she would do to a stranger that was doing anything physical in front of her to her family; I would imagine that she wouldn't have a problem with biting them and bringing them down.

Cooper really could care less. Whenever I'm sad or cry, he slinks off into his house like, "Ugh! You're doing that again?! Jeez, I'm going over there until you stop that nonsense." If I wrestle around with anyone, he cocks an ear over and looks at me out of the corner of his eye like, "oh, she got this." If heaven forbid, I actually get attacked, Cooper wouldn't do shit. He would jump up on my attacker like, "Oh my God! A new friend! I love you!" He's a terrible guard dog and companion. The only thing he has going for him is that he is so gosh darn cute.

Nightmare

About a week ago, I had a really bad dream involving murderous, vindictive orcas and humpback whales. I guess I was whimpering or something in my sleep because after I woke myself up with a loud gasp and fighting for air, I looked around the room wildly because I had that terrible, strange feeling that someone was in the room. Incidentally, I forgot to lock my door the night before so if there really was someone in the room, it wouldn't have surprised me.

Anyway, I kept sensing that something was at least staring at me so I put on my glasses and peered around only to have my eyes land on Cooper who was standing on his hind legs with his front paws on my bed staring at me like, "...hi?" It really freaked me out because he was staring so intently at my face like, "were you having a bad dream? You were making weird noises so I decided to come and stare at you until you woke up. It was all a dream...go back to sleep now...it was all a dream..."

Ugh, so glad Cooper can't talk...

Slip and fall

We got some snow over the weekend which semi-melted, which then froze into sheets of murderous black ice all over the sidewalk. You would think living downtown, someone would at least shovel a path on most the sidewalks but alas, I am woefully wrong. Cooper and I must carefully pick our way through treacherous patches of death.

I always thought animals would have better grip on the ice; maybe it's their toenails or the fact that their weight seems to be more evenly distrubuted on four paws than my two clumsy feet, but I guess assuming things is bad. Cooper always joyfully runs into the snow banks without worrying about the slippery ice while I try to hang on for dear life without being pulled down and rolling my ankles.

Anyway, while Cooper was walking merrily along and I was walking with my head down trying to take baby steps, Cooper slipped on a patch of ice and skidded into the side of a building. It was the funniest thing I have ever seen and the look of shock and fear in Cooper's eyes as he was slipping was hilarious. True, I am a mean dog owner for laughing at his downfall but that's what he gets for being cocky on the ice. And besides, he was fine. Nothing was bruised but his ego and that needs to be taken down a few pegs in my opinion.

After I laughed at him, Cooper refused to look at me and I could tell he was dying of embarassment until I hit a patch of ice, slid a few feet while yanking on his leash. He actually stopped, looked over his shoulder with a look of concern on his face. Can you believe that? It's Cooper for the love of god, half the time he doesn't even bother getting off the bed when I come home. Anyway, the look of concern on his face melted my heart. You can almost hear him say, "Oh jeez, are you ok? Man, it is slippery out here! Let's take our time..."

Daylight savings

Now that it's daylight savings and winter is upon us, it is getting darker more quickly. I don't like walking Cooper when it's dark out because I live in a somewhat unsafe neighborhood and although there are people outside at 5:30, it's dark and scary and I get easily intimidated. I get home around 4:30 and I try my best to give Cooper at least a half hour walk.

This is not long enough for him. Cooper has become destructive in the house while I'm at work, sleeping, or at the gym. He normally chews and tears up trash, but it's gotten to the point where he will hurl his body at the bathroom door to get into the trash and when I come home, there's tissue and everything else scattered all over my place. I also worry that he eats some of the trash and it might cause a blockage.

I leave bully sticks out for him to chew on as well as those teeth cleaning chews. He goes through them quickly and loses interest. I try playing with him inside the house to burn off some energy. If he would actually run, I would run him around the block once or twice to really get him going. Instead, I try to walk as briskly as possible, sometimes even dragging Mr. Man behind me as I try to persuade him to exercise instead of tearing/eating/chewing on things inside my place.

Luckily, he hasn't gone for shoes anymore. He leaves all the electrical cords alone. He has left my iPod alone (and trust me, if he chewed that up Cooper would be dead). It just pisses me off when he eats bathroom trash. Stupid, stupid Cooper...