Yes Yes, Good Morning

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

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.

Some Days He Prefers Lounging in the Nude

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

"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."

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.

"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.

"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.

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.

Fun With the New Camera

The Big Snip: Update

Apparently, the school is only going to neuter the males. Still no word on what exactly the trait is that the breeding manager doesn't want passed down, but we may never find out. Not a big deal, as far as I'm concerned, as long as everyone's healthy.

The best thing about this news is that not only could one of Lomax's littermate sisters still be named a breeder, one of his older sisters (same parents, previous litter) is already a breeder and won't have to be spayed. We're also thrilled that one of his other female relatives -- a sweet little peanut of a black Lab named Mika, whose "wiggle hinge" is even more flexible than Lomax's -- is also safe in her breeder status.

I had a chance to talk to the trainer who left me a message, and she seems optimistic that these guys are all still terrific dogs whose ability to guide won't be affected in the slightest. It was very encouraging! We talked a bit about Lomax's tap-dancing -- the poor little man just can't sit still when there's someone he loves nearby, and he tries SO HARD -- and she seems to think that it may be mostly hormonal. It will be good to see how things change when the testosterone has had a chance to work its way out of his system. I'm hoping that it won't change his personality too much...but I definitely could stand for him to mellow out a little.

So, Tuesday's the big day! I'll probably go to graduation at the school on Sunday morning, then drop him off at the kennels.

Gung Hay Dog Chow

Lomax would like to wish everyone a happy Chinese new year...apparently, it is the year of the dog.

The Big Snip

I just found out they're going to neuter Lomax. According to a trainer in the GDA puppy department, they "found something in the lines" that made them decide to fix 'em. It sounded like she was speaking in the plural, so while she didn't specifically say the whole litter, if there's something in the lines they want to discontinue, it makes sense. She said "they'd still make great guides," so it's apparently nothing too serious, but I haven't had a chance to speak with her directly because I didn't get her message in time. I won't know until Monday, which kills me!

After all my lamenting, my soliloquies on the difficulty of reining in a four-legged teenage boy in spring-loaded furry tap shoes, I am feeling a little sad. My roomie is feeling the same way.

It's not just that there will be no little Lomaxes (Lomices?), or that he has individually been rejected. I think what makes me sad is the possibility that there will be no breeder from the whole litter. I didn't seriously think they'd make him a breeder (in my opinion, he's a little nuttier -- pardon the pun and sorry, Lomax -- than some of his sibs), but I was looking forward to hearing a happy announcement that Liam or one of his other littermates had been chosen to pass on their fine qualities. They really are terrific dogs, these guys.

But the...ahem, procedure...really will make the rest of our time together easier, on both of us, so I'm focusing on that.

The Return of Lomax

The kennel stay was a success. GDA kennel techs report that Lomax and Liam were "very good boys" with "NO signs of stress." Not shocking in the slightest, either of those things. Our happy bachelor brothers did, however, take every available opportunity to...attempt to woo the ladies, shall we say? And yet, still no word on their breeder evaluation schedule (Liam is ALSO still intact, as is most of their litter).

I had the in-house vet check Lomax for an ear infection, as he'd been a little "flappy" for a day or two before, and sure enough, he came home with meds for his left ear. But he's been a sport about that so far, sucker for an ear rub that he is.

The two of them must have played constantly for the whole three days, because I got an e-mail from Liam's puppy raisers, saying that he had effectively put himself to bed at seven o'clock. Lomax was so tired last night that I actually debated whether or not to take him to obedience class. Thinking it might be nice for a change to work with him when he's less wiggly, however, Slave Driver Jenny dragged the poor little man to class and experienced the phenomenon of having to encourage him to keep up during an average-pace heel.

I felt so spoiled! Free vet care, a few days of romping for him and total freedom for me, and they bathed him and trimmed his toenails to boot. There's nothing like getting back a clean, sleepy dog.

Dogless

Lomax is "at camp" for a few days up at the GDA kennels. For those of you who aren't puppy raisers, I'll explain: we do this periodically so the dogs can get used to the kennel environment, where they'll be living when they go in for their six(ish) months of formal training. It makes the transition less stressful.

It's been a nice break for me -- and a great opportunity to wear all my black clothing without incident -- but I miss my little yellow man! No doubt he is having the time of his life, surrounded by other dogs, peeing where and when he wants to, and rooming with his brother Liam.

Since I won't have the opportunity to take any photos for a few more days, I'll leave you with one more from our LEGOland adventure:


"Trouble to the east, Lord Lomax!"

"I see it, Sir Bricksalot...take the leash and get me out of here."

"Yes, my liege."

It Is Awards Season, After All

I always knew Lomax was a superstar! To Tame the Wild Beastie has been chosen as Dogmark's "Cool Dog Site of the Day."

We'd like to thank the fine people at Dogmark for selecting us, as well as Julia and Rockwell for cluing us in on the existence of the award, and of course, our favorite roommate Amy for nominating us.

We would also like to thank every one of our visitors. It's a pleasure to share Lomax's training with you.

As to whether fame will change us, I am satisfied with posting this humble award graphic on the site and giving him an extra chicken snap or two, but Lomax thinks he should start looking for representation while he's still buzzworthy.

Freudian Slip

I just accidentally saved a document to my computer with the extension ".dog" instead of ".doc" -- who says this puppy raising business is an all-consuming pastime?

Lomax Takes LEGOland

Because the real city of New York might be a bit overwhelming for both of us, Lomax and I decided we'd try a smaller version of it first. Here he is, smiling for the camera as always, in Times Square.

As it turns out, LEGOland is a great place to go on a Thursday in January...especially if you have free tickets. The weather was perfect and it wasn't very crowded. Because the park caters to smaller children, Lomax had lots of practice ignoring little hands and cries of "doggie!" from passing strollers. He was as surprised as I when a free-range toddler managed to sneak up behind us and pull his tail, but he didn't do anything naughty.

There were so many new and exciting things to see, hear and smell that Lomax walked pretty fast most of the day, and it was a challenge to keep him in a nice heel position for any significant length of time. I did what I always do, which is change directions on him -- right, left, or a complete 180 -- to keep him focusing on me and anticipating the next move. It's effective, but it does make getting from Point A to Point B a little less direct. I hate to leash-correct him so much in public, because people tend to get the wrong idea...not that you'd think this dog is mistreated, looking at his happy face, alert ears and constantly wagging rear end!

Overall, he did very well. Loud, strange noises were met with curiosity but not fear, with the exception of a lifesized, beeping LEGO model of R2-D2, upon which he looked with great suspicion until later in the day when I brought him back to sniff and make friends on his own terms. He didn't even mark, as he is sometimes wont to do (even in jacket! aigh!) when we pass too close to a previously "decorated" shrub.

Lomax was allowed to go on one attraction, a slow boat ride on the river that runs through the "Miniland" section of the park. He wasn't sure about getting on board the boat from the dock, but he did jump in with my encouragement. Once I sat down on the seat with him seated on the floor between my legs, however, he decided he would rather climb cartoon-style over my entire body to exit, stage left. I got control of him and sat him back down, but he spent the rest of the ride with his front legs tap dancing on the floor of the boat, acting as though he would love nothing better than to ditch this lame tour and take a refreshing swim. He exited the boat happily, but not in an out-of-control fashion, and seemed just fine.

The only truly disobedient thing he did all day -- because there always has to be ONE thing -- was lunge for a piece of dropped food. He is very well behaved around food as a rule, so this was surprising! But it was one of "Granny's Apple Fries," so I can understand the temptation. I pulled it out of his mouth and put it back on the ground to set him up a few times. After one more successful Lab-mouth lightning-strike (fastest tongue in the West) and several corrections, he learned to leave it alone and was richly rewarded with hugs and kisses and praise. Also, the threat of jail time is very effective.

1,000 Words in Lieu of A Picture

Many apologies to our regular visitors! Lomax and I have been quite busy since the holidays, and blogging has taken a back seat to our various post-Christmas, hit-the-2006-ground-running activities. Just a quick update....

1.) Lomax is maturing physically (and not just in that "ladies man" way which I have already lamented). I've noticed, and many others have commented, over the last few weeks that he seems broader in the torso, more "filled out." And he suddenly has quite the profusion of neck. When I retired his fancy Christmas collar and brought back his usual blue one, it was too small and had to be adjusted. I refer to this new over-the-collar spillage as "the wrinkled neck of wisdom."

2.) His strength seems to have increased as well, which is challenging when there are females anywhere near us -- as there always seem to be when we go to puppyraiser meetings, since there are so many breeders in our group. In the desperate hope that I will not someday find myself in the position of Monty Python's black knight, I have stepped up the amount and intensity of our obedience practice and am working like never before on getting Lomax to focus on his handler when in the face (or, um, other end) of very tempting distractions. He's doing well.

3.) He's still a cutie. I just got a brand new digital camera, so evidence of this will be posted soon...that is, as soon as I can figure out all the fancy bells and whistles accompanying such dizzying technology.

Even My Dog Knows Good Football

I usually save this sort of silliness for my other blog, but...it must be shared. I was making such a commotion at the TV (yelling and flailing and woo-hooing and celebrating) when Vince Young scored the national-championship-game-winning touchdown for the Texas Longhorns at the Rose Bowl this evening, Lomax actually barked.

Just the once, one hearty woof. And I didn't stop him. Because he was cheering for the right team.