It Only Looks Good on Bunnies

Do you think anyone will be able to tell? Hmm, on top of the droopy face, the red eyes, the bald patches, the bum knee... Nah, you're good. I'M SO ANGRY!!

For a while I have felt guilty calling Toby “Bitey Dog” when it was really his brother’s moniker, but Toby finally put forth the effort to make it his.

Dogs do so well at hiding their feelings sometimes that you can miss their signs of pain.

On Friday I leaned over to ask if I could help Toby reach the treat that he had pushed behind he furniture, and he exploded in a furious attack. Twenty four pounds of muscle and anger (and teeth. Let’s not forget the teeth) launched themselves straight for my face. This was so out of character for my pup that I was completely caught off guard.

I managed to get him into his kennel so I could assess the situation. He immediately fell asleep. I ended up with puncture wounds on my cheek, lip and nose. Also, my top lip had been ripped apart like a rabbit’s. Gross. Trust me, the look is only cute on bunnies.

Tuesday was the earliest I could schedule an appointment with Toby’s vet, and she told me that he “did not mince words” when she tried to examine his left knee. Also, he somehow managed to gain 2 pounds in 6 months. Oops. Looks like the shutdown got to him too.

The combination of extra weight and already wonky knees left my boy in incredible pain. Me getting near his treat on Friday sent him over the edge. I didn’t know that, though, and spent the weekend afraid of my dog. Now I feel guilty that my little boy needed comfort and understanding, and I kept him at several arms’ length.

Toby got sent home from the vet with pain medication and guidelines for a strict diet. By this afternoon he was feeling so much better that he was driving me nuts. He is evidently hungry too because he keeps stealing my things in order to trade them for food. I can tell that the next two pounds are going to be really tough on both of us.

As for me, I am hoping to be able to drink from a glass again someday. For now I have to use the ultra-super-mega Verboten drinking straws. (I wouldn’t be surprised it Greta Thunberg comes ’round at night and beats me up.) For some reason I don’t bruise purple, I turn yellow/green. It looks I have smeared mustard all over my face where Toby hit me.

Despite the unpleasantness, I am glad that I finally understand Toby’s pain and was able to get him help. If we’re lucky, the medication and the weight loss might help him to feel good for a long time to come.

Cairn terrier sleeping in kennel.

Go away. I don’t feel good.

(Don’t you mean “well”?)

(Do you want to get bitten again?!?)

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Tick, Tick, Taken

This “traveling between the worlds” business takes some getting used to.  At this time of year, it is pretty much impossible to get bird or butterfly bodies to borrow since they don’t function well in the cold.  Instead I have been reduced to using ticks.

One fine day last week, I craftily tiptoed onto Toby’s leg as he was walking through some leaves.  Without him even being aware, I crawled up to his collar and latched onto his neck.  It was kind of gross, but I always wanted to be able to bite him and get away with it.  Sadly, before I could complete my mission, Mom found me and flushed me down the toilet.

Back I came…making the slow climb up Toby’s unreasonably tall body.  I was too tired from my last trip I to go all the way up to his neck, so decided to bite him on the arm instead.  This time I was able to accomplish more of my goal, and I transmitted my essence into Toby before Mom could flush me.  It was like a Vulcan Mind Meld but with tick spit.

From then on, Toby and I became the same being.  We are a perfect blend of our two personalities.  He has started doing things that I used to do – things that he never saw, but now he knows intimately.  He is also still the impish little rascal he has always been – the little boy who likes ear scratches and hugs.

Cairn terrier sleeps on blanket on the floor.

When Toby and I lived together, he liked to sleep in his kennel while I preferred to sleep in Mom’s room.  As  soon as I left, Toby took my spot.  He doesn’t know how happy it makes Mom to have him there.  I do.  That’s why I told him to do it.

 

 

 

 

Teeny Tiny Toby’s Terrible Tuesday Temper Tantrum

 

Roar!

…which really took place on a Monday…but I am posting about it on a Friday!

I got fortunate in that Toby decided to throw one of these fits in front of the vet.  She was taken aback at the viciousness of his outburst.  She said that this is simply what he does when he doesn’t get his way, and no one should give in to him or he will learn that this is how he gets what he wants.  The down side?  This

Ouch.

I was feeling happy that my little monster had largely outgrown this phase, until today.  Then ol’ crabby pants showed up again to say that he did not appreciate the hug I gave him after supper.  Looks like I had better keep the Band Aids handy.

 

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To read more of Bitey’s adventures, pick up a copy (or download a Kindle version) of his book A Tired Mommy Is a Good Mommy, available at Amazon.