selling all dogs

I don't know when I became the world's worst dog owner/trainer in the world.

So last night's agility class was uber-frustrating. We had a run that included weave poles, that Griff flubbed no less than five times, then the tire, that he jumped around instead of thru, and by then I was so humiliated I fucked up the totally easy jump pass at the end. I had to leave the arena and go outside to cry. I don't know what I was thinking about entering him in a CPE trial in a month. I am apparently the world's worst trainer and he's a stubborn a**hole who refuses to weave.

I realize somewhere between vet school and having all three dogs, they've collectively become *disobedient*. I worked on Guinness's recall for 5+ years, and all of a sudden he acts like he has no idea what it means. Zoe also has no sense of when she should come and pretty much does as she pleases. Griffin is a pulling, barking, jumping pain in the ass, and all his agility training has come to naught. I should have stuck with cats, at least no one expects them to do anything when told.

Anyway, I am sorely disappointed. I suppose there is some bullshite explanation about me not being a good leader, or else I've forgotten to ask much of them, I don't know. All I do know is that we're going to tighten down on the rules for awhile and see if it makes any difference.

GRR

DM, agility, and vet school

I haven't posted in forever, mainly because I was afraid that the main dog was on the decline and I couldn't bear thinking about it. The G man was diagnosed tentatively with degenerative myelopathy in May and seemed to be failing quickly, and I was having a really hard time coming to terms with that. However, he's stabilized and is doing ok. Basically, he walks like a drunken sailor most of the time now, but he's still able to go for several mile walks and isn't at the stage where he needs water therapy, so we're taking it day by day.

Griff has still been going to agility classes and it's getting to be time to consider entering him in a CPE trial. I am freaked at the idea, but he's at least as good as some of the dogs currently competing in our class. I am not a very good handler, which I find embarrasing. I forget the courses easily, I turn the wrong way, I don't have a good instinct about how to handle courses. However, I don't think any of that is going to get much better without actually competing a bit, and I am afraid if I wait much longer I'll never enter a trial. His practices are either brilliant or ridiculous, depending on whether I can keep myself out of the way during his run. His teeter is not good, and his weaves are not there either. Both of theses things are my fault, of course. Well, at least the weaves are, maybe the teeter is his. Half the time he hits the thing like a dog walk, the other half he forgets what an obstacle is all together.

Vet school starts in about a month again, on to year three, and 22 months until graduation. Here's hoping I make it thru successfully.

Beach time

Spring break means trip to the beach, complete with hail.

Guinness found a rock that he was convinced was edible; the veritable holy grail of beach flotsam. He tried to rescue it, but was not successful. He tried so hard.

He tried so hard, he submerged his whole head up to the ears. And this is my dog that hates water with a Danish passion. He tried, then finally got his teeth on the damn thing, and instantly dropped it, with dismay, as he confirmed it was in fact a rock and not a giant sticky bun submerged in a tide pool. Then he pouted.

Sad G. He pouted the rest of the day.

The other two played bitey-face.

Dogs love the beach. Really. Even though they look somber.

Spring Break?

Poor Zoe. She woke me up at four this morning desperate to go outside although she was out at midnight right before bed. After three trips outside between 4-8 and about 30 squats, I rushed her to the vet. One cysto, one ultrasound, and one hundred plus dollars later, she's on antibiotics for a UTI and I'm hoping that's all it will be. I'm watching her closely today. She wants to stay outside, but I'm hoping if I keep her in she'll be able to rest.

And my wisdom teef extraction was cancelled for today, so I think it'll be a lazy day of housecleaning and watching the dogs. Poor aminals. The vet's office owns me, I swear.

Waiting for grades to come back; have all but one. The pharm final was miserable, and I'm afraid my grade will be dropping sharply. Oh well. As long as I passed, I guess. The exam wasn't, in my opinion, a fair example of what I learned, so I'm not as concerned as I might have been otherwise.

Dogs and I are going to the beach later in the week, so hopefully Zoe will feel better and I'll get some good pictures. The dogs really need a vacation.

Edited later: Oh, and the day just got better and better. I realized, shortly after posting this, that the smallest cat was missing. At first, I figured he was sleeping somewhere away from everyone else, which is unlike the nosy parker. Then after combing the house and calling, I realize the cat.is.nowhere.to.be.found. Check the garage, since that's the only door I recall leaving open unattended. Check around the house. Take dogs out one by one to check the front and back yard. Shake the food bin. Bring out wet food. Search the surrounding area. Call shelters. Call vets' offices. Post to craigslist. Accost joggers outside my house. Attempt, then decide against, posting fliers on the only poles we have in the neighborhood-stop signs. Finally, after 8 hours, and dragging my sick dad out of bed to come help (athough I tried to talk him out of it), I am in the kitchen, and start to hear a tiny voice. At first I think I am imagining it, but then I am sure it is kitten. I call, and he answers, but I can't localize where the heck he's at. Run upstairs, no voice, but check everywhere I've already checked. Come back downstairs, open every drawer and cupboard in the kitchen, even though I've already checked. No kitten. Wait, a few minutes of silence, then he starts again. Finally localize him between the garage and kitchen. Walk in to the small bathroom where I keep the cats' litterboxes. Hear small kitten. Open the cupboard (although I've already checked), no kitten. Open all the drawers, none of which I've opened that day. Find small kitten in the top most, shut drawer. One I didn't open or close. One with no connection to anything I did open or close. I don't know, but I'm suspicious that he opened the drawer, climbed in, and then maybe Monkey cat came along behind him and shut him in. Why he stayed there for 8 hours without yelling I have no idea. Other than being very hungry, and very happy to see his box, he was fine. Little monster.

We won't even talk about my final exam. We will, however, reference my new favorite website: failblog.wordpress.com.

the art of dum

Attending vet school is a little like lunching with Mensa; you are liable to feel dumb the vast majority of the time. And, you get to feel dumb in a very smart way. You confuse things that no normal person even considers. Can you use barium sulfate to do a excretory urogram? If duodenal fixation is a sign of pancreatitis, how can you tell on a single radiograph? Is it guinea pigs or gerbils that get scurvy? (the answers are no, you can't, and guinea pigs) .

I have not yet come to terms with the fact that I've probably already forgotten more than I'll remember from vet school. I never thought I had a problem with memory, in fact, even underachieving in college I got decent enough grades to get into vet school. But now, it's daily doses of panicked blankness that don't foreshadow well for my clinical year.

Guinness, on the other hand, thinks headdresses are the dum. This was from his birthday party; ten years strong and still counting. He got a Vegetarian's Nightmare sandwich (all meats and cheeses), a bag of homemade dog biscuits, and much toasting in his honor. He says if vet school makes me feel stupid, I should just stay home and make him more homemade dog biscuits. Best to stick with what you know...

This is why you don't fuck with the Irish

LAZER EYES!

Shark, er, finals week

Actually, it's finals fortnight. In order to get some peace and quiet study time, we went to our favorite park for a bit of a romp, and I took the camera.

I'm a really crap photographer, and it's gauling, because I missed some excellent shots today, but a few I got weren't bad.

Dogs must first investigate the park's integrity, which means smelling everything in olfactory distance.

Do you smell what I smell?

Then there is romping....

Coming...

and going.....

Then, there's the heartbreak of being a crapsack photographer. See this log?

The only thing missing is the lovely Aussie vaulting over it...which was the shot I missed, no less than six times. My camera timing was off, dog was too speedy, dog fucked off and chewed stick...he's got a lovely jumping form, and since I never get agility pics during class, I really wanted this one...

This was the best I could do....

Kinda fun, but not at all a well-structured photograph.

Zoe, the dog of much ears, was especially full of poses today...

Ears.....

More ears....

half ears....

A bit of waterplay never hurt anyone...except Guinness, who purportedly melts in water.

Griff hearts water

Guinness hearts another kind of water play...

Griff can fly

Guinness just rocks

Now, off to try and understand ultrasound physics.