Friday, February 24, 2006

Yes Yes, Good Morning

I wish I met each day with such enthusiasm. YES I'm getting up. Now stop slobbering on my sheets.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

The Return of the Two-Minute Pee!

I shouldn't be as excited about these things as I admittedly am. Surely it speaks volumes about my life.

A few days ago, Lomax took about the longest pee I've ever seen him take. I didn't have my watch on, so I couldn't clock it, but it was amazing -- it must have been a minute or more. I stood in awe; we were out there so long it was almost embarrassing. He was full stream ahead, standing in one place, one little hind leg raised slightly. There was no sniffing every three inches for someone else's pee-spot to be usurped. There was no desperate search for a tree or a lamppost or another suitable target.

Brother Liam's people once referred to our boys as "Lords of the Three-Second Whiz," but I am relieved (ahem) to say that now, post-neutering, those days seem to have passed.

Ah, progress.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

A Lomax By Any Other Name

We're not supposed to give them nicknames, these dogs. Lomax knows his REAL name, and responds to it, but anyone who's ever had a dog knows that you can't avoid the inevitable parade of nicknames. Here's ours:

Mr. Lomax
Mister
Sir
Little Man
Dingus
Lomaximus
Wiggler
WiggleBuns
Mr. Happy
Danger Tail
Moof
Mr. Moof
Moof-Dog
Moofles
WigglyMoof
Snorter
Snortles
Stinkbug

Sunday, February 12, 2006

"I Thought We Were Going Out for Ice Cream"

The crazy thing is, it's not his stitches he's obsessed with. Instead, he's taken to licking the spot on his arm (foreleg? whatever) where he was shaved for the IV insertion. So I've had to wrap it with a pad and some gauze in order to prevent him from making it any worse.

So he started licking the bandage, which moves it out of place (and makes the bandage all wet). So I sprayed it with bitter apple. Which apparently just makes the bandage zesty and delicious.

"Just correct him when he does it," you say? I did that for a while, and it seemed to be very effective...he's fine when I'm watching him like a hawk. But the sneaky little bugger will be clever about it just to spite me. "OH, look at this wonderful toy I'm playing with here on the floor. I think I'll just position it right next to...my arm while I...nonchalantly...sneakinareallyquickSLURRRRP!"

"Fine," I say. "I'm getting The Cone."

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Slow Heel, Quick Heal

Lomax has returned, and all is well. So well, in fact, that when I got him home last night, he wanted to run up the three flights of stairs to my apartment.

Does the thought of him doing that, freshly neutered and full of stitches, cause you to cringe, too, or is it just me?

Of course I didn't let him do it -- kept him on a leash and encouraged him to walk slowly despite his obvious gladness to be home. The first thing he did was drink about a gallon of water. The second thing he did was greet my roommate with his usual gusto.

The poor little man was exhausted, either from the previous day's surgery or from his pre-surgery romps at the kennel with littermate/neutermate Liam. Even the application of a cold -- very cold, mind you -- compress to his nether regions was surprisingly easy. He lay on his back and fell asleep where I was cradling him on the living room floor. He didn't even get up when the commercial came on for Disney's sled dog movie Eight Below...and that's his favorite thing on TV right now.

The stitches look clean and there's not much swelling. He hasn't yet made much of an attempt to bother the incision site, which is great, but I think the challenge will come when the soreness is gone and the hair starts growing back and making him itch.

I let him sleep wherever he wanted in my room last night, with the caveat that he'd have to wear The Dreaded Cone, because I can't very well supervise him when I'm asleep. He didn't protest when I put it on him, and he lay down next to my bed and snoozed before my head even hit my pillow.

When I woke up this morning, I saw him standing. That's it, just standing. Not sniffing. Not looking at me, or really at anything. I chuckled, and it was at that moment he noticed I was conscious, and so began the typical HEY-IT'S-MORNING-AND-WE-HAVEN'T-PLAYED-FOR-SEVERAL-HOURS-I-ALMOST-FORGOT-WHAT-YOU-LOOKED-LIKE-I'M-HUNGRY-LET'S-GO-SOMEWHERE-I-LOVE-YOU-WHAT-ARE-WE-DOING-TODAY wiggling.

So I figure he's fine.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

"Last Hurrah" Weekend

Lomax is up at the GDA kennels for his...operation, which will be sometime today. (I've noticed that for some reason, I can't just seem to refer to the...neutering...without pausing momentarily with some elipses. It all just seems too much to come right out and say it as though it's a perfectly normal part of his average day. Hmm. I'll try it again. He's being...um...you know...fixed. Nope, can't do it without the dots.)

Anyway, we had quite a lovely time the last few days, as a "last hurrah" before the...you know. Spent the weekend at my cousin CJ's house, which was great fun for Lomax because they have stairs he could run up and down with his favorite toys, and a yard full of delicious cat smells -- though the cats were not nearly as pleased about his visit.



My aunt's bathroom is beautiful and luxurious, like that of a hotel, and Lomax looked not just at home there, but also as though he had been part of the design scheme:



On Friday, CJ and I took Lomax to the Armand Hammer Museum in Westwood to see the first half of the Masters of American Comics exhibit, which he enjoyed very much despite his opinion that the works should not have been hung so high on the gallery walls. There were several school classes at the museum that day, and we had to politely deny many small children's requests to pet him (we even got an "Awww, MAN!" from one disappointed young lad) because Lomax was being very good, and I didn't want to break his streak. I've found that one small child petting a dog quickly becomes twelve small children petting a dog, and Lomax's attention span for obedience dissolves into the excitement of lots of little hands to lick and faces in which to snort. He was quite a sport the rest of the day as well, at In-N-Out Burger for lunch, Diddy Riese for cookies, and an early evening showing of Hoodwinked (which was surprisingly clever and enjoyable).

The next day, I crated Lomax for a few hours while CJ and I headed to the Museum of Contemporary Art for the second half of the comics exhibit, but we had lots of play and snuggle time that evening back at the house.

Sunday morning was very exciting! We attended a graduation up at GDA with all of our puppy friends and colleagues...the best part was that Lomax got to spend a little time with Joanna, his first puppy raiser. The first words out of her mouth when she saw him were, "He's huge!" Lomax responded with his usual wiggly enthusiasm, lots of kisses, and my favorite little whiny-grunts that are clearly an expression of love. He sat with Joanna and her friend Christina during the ceremony, being the adorable and well-behaved little gentleman he is. Afterward, Lomax and brother Liam checked into the kennels for a few days of raucous bachelor playtime before the...procedure.

So, now we wait, praying that the vet does everything perfectly and that the world famous "L Brothers" will heal quickly and not obsess on licking their stitches. I'll get my little man back tomorrow afternoon, take him home and make sure his recuperation is filled with cuddling and treats.

Monday, February 06, 2006

"Maybe the DINGO Ate Your Baby..."

"He looks like a dingo."

"What?"

"When he's on his back like that. Looks like a dingo."

The roomie was right. He does. So when Lomax gets in a wiggly mood and rolls onto his back in the middle of the living room floor, snorting and trying desperately to touch the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail, we call it the Dingo Dance. Sometimes there's a toy involved -- the Nylabone ring, the delicious rubber Orbee bone -- and sometimes he just goes solo.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Canines to the Rescue

I ran across an article today, written by Jonah Goldberg just after the events of September 11, about what drives a working dog. None of you puppy raisers or guide dog handlers will be surprised in the slightest. Here's an excerpt:
The dog is the only animal that volunteers for duty. If we want other animals -- horses, oxen, mules, falcons, bears, or parrots -- to come to our aid, we must either force them or bribe them.
Here's the rest of the article. Bring Kleenex.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006