foo-geediaries

[foo-geediaries]

Chapter 9 - Remembrance

It has been a few years since I’ve been able to finish his story.

Today is May 7th and it would have been his birthday.  We would have celebrated with some good old-fashioned spoiling love like a new toy, a special meal, (Wendy’s, of course) and a grooming.

Everyone who encountered Foo-Gee never forgot him and it wasn’t like he spent an inordinate amount of time with some of them.  He had this special quality of imprinting his little personality on everyone.

A friend called him, “the dog with the million-dollar smile” and I believe that to be true.  Foo-Gee was happy to see everyone he met whether he knew them or not.

I really miss him.  I miss that smile.

His last few weeks of life were very telling that his quality of life was gone.  He was having problems seeing and wasn’t able to eat.  Eating was a big deal with him.  So when it was clear he no longer enjoyed the food I made for him I would feed him what I ate.  Yet after a bit of time he no longer wanted that.  I began to supplement Pedialyte instead of water so he would have so something to boost his system.

Even that he started to refuse.

Another visible sign was he no longer became excited when he saw his friends from the sliding glass door.

His favorite place was laying by the open sliding glass door sleeping in the sun.  He began to sleep all day and I would go over just to make sure he was breathing.

That’s when I knew it was no way for him to live.

Some people would disagree in ending a life.  However, why would I let him suffer when he brought so much love into our lives.

Wouldn’t it be loving to save him from a life where quality of living was absent?

I loved him too much to see him suffer and I did not come to that decision lightly.  I called my son and talked to him and talked to friends.  I felt so guilty making this decision.  Was I doing the right thing?  Would he get better?  Is this premature?

That sense of all our lives being changed because he was a very special little dog came over me like a warm blanket and I knew I was holding on to him because I didn’t want to let him go.

The day before I saw him struggling and knew I had to do what was best for him, not me.  I was the one holding on.

That is why I began his story years ago because I wanted to capture his spirit and the memories of his years with us.   I tried to put into words how he infected our lives.  As well as remembering what he did to us.  He brought so much joy into our lives.  He gave me a true sense of who I was by loving me.

After he left us there were times when we felt his spirit very close.  He is a Buddhist Temple Dog so why wouldn’t he be near us when he felt we were having difficult times.

When my son and his girlfriend broke up he was completely distraught one night.  He told me he felt Foo-Gee’s spirit near him and could feel him giving him the support he needed as he lay crying on the floor.

That’s what Foo-Gee did the whole time he was with us in body and now he’s doing it in spirit.

Foo-Gee gave me the strength and therapy I needed after my surgery.  When I told my physical therapist this he remarked that many other patients told him the same thing.

Some dogs have an innate sense of knowing what we need before we do.  It’s their love for us because they are love incarnate.

Love.

A simple four-letter word that has the most profound affect in our lives, whether we have it or not, shapes who we are.  That I learned from my dog through his love and he didn’t even know it.  He doesn’t know the word.  He just gave of himself and in doing that he gave me to most precious gift of all - a life worth living.

I miss him so much today not because it’s his birthday but because as I write this my eyes are filled with tears of love, tears of joy as I remember what he did for me.  He doesn’t know the word love because he is love.

So ends the tale of the Emperor.

As we end his story his memories will be with us forever as “Dog Who Thought He Was a Mountain.”

He was, “A Mountain of Love.”

All Hail the Emperor.

[foo-geediaries]

Chapter 8 - From Amusing to WTF!

Pet owners everywhere have locked away in memory a treasure trove of comical looks, amusing antics and awkward things our pets are known to have done.  What I’m going to focus on first are the moments when our pets behave in a manner so uncharacteristic and inappropriate that it leaves us scratching our heads wondering what in the world were they thinking! It’s this moment in time that it prompts the following  reaction -  Sheer Mortification

We have a rather large family on my dad’s side and one of my uncles married a woman from Scotland.  She is very formal, very sophisticated and very elegant.  I’m expressing “very” for a reason.  In hearing about my ill health she paid me an unannounced visit and as I opened the door I saw my Aunt with a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  Of course, Mr. Nosey-body came barking at the door like all 6 lbs. of him was going to deter a would be assailant.  Satisfied that she posed no threat he went back on the floor mangling another toy.  My Aunt made tea and we were in the living room talking when Foo-Gee came over pawing her leg least she ignore his royal cuteness.  Obligingly she reaches down to pet him and he’s loving every second as she continues to make a big deal about what a handsome dog he is.  I’ve come to expect this behavior from my dog because he has always been an attention hog so nothing was strange.  Except… weird as this was the little attention hog gets up in the middle of this and starts to walk away. Now I should have suspected something because he never walks away from being the center of attention.

To this day I can’t comprehend what transpired next but he changed his mind and comes back to what I thought was more attention hogging.  BUT NO, not my dog!  Suddenly he begins to lift his leg toward my Aunt!  The moment I saw his leg go up I scream at him and he scatters.  This all happened so fast that my Aunt didn’t know why I was yelling at him.

For an instant there was nothing I could say; I sat there mortified with my mouth wide open and a glazed over look on my face. Only for the fact that I noticed it immediately and was staring in disbelief when she looked down at her shoes.  Apologies couldn’t come fast enough.  In my mind I was saying, “please, please let these be old shoes.”

So I asked the obvious, “Are they old?”

“No” she replied, “today’s the first day I’m wearing them.”

Yes, they happened to be absolutely brand spanking new brown leather Italian Designer shoes that now had several visible dark spots.  Not only was I absolutely mortified but when I asked if I could reimburse her for them.

She said, “You probably couldn’t afford it dear.”  Ouch!

As awkward as the situation was the reason that made the situation uncomfortable was this - it was the first time she was EVER in my home.  I knew it would be the last!

When you own a dog you never know what sets them off.  I couldn’t quite grasp the idea that he did this and gave up trying to rationalize the behavior in him that day.  She didn’t have pets so it’s not like he smelled another animal on her.  I chalked it up to bad pet behavior moments.

Now let me focus on the funny side and admit the fact that if he was a kid, Foo-Gee would be the class clown.  There’s no doubt in my mind I would have been called into the Principal’s office every day.  Here are my all-time favorite Foo-Gee moments:

Playing catch – For a dog he is the worst catch player in the world.  We realized he couldn’t catch early on and had to switch to soft toys instead of rubber balls because we were afraid he’d get brain damage from the balls smacking him in the head.  Those soft toys have bounced off his noggin so much I stopped counting.  This dog learned to sit with little effort but catch NEVER!  He doesn’t even catch FOOD!

Our all-time favorite game he falls for is the fake-out throw. Foo-Gee brought over a toy; my son squeaked it working the dog into frenzy and pretended to throw it.  He ran in the direction of the where he thought the toy was and started sniffing, walking in circles and going from room to room.  Every so often his head would pop up with this terrified expression on his face.  My son would squeak the toy and he came hopping back – yes, hopping like a bunny.  Pretend throw, sniff, walk, seek out, squeak and hop back.  We have done this countless times with the same result - he doesn’t get the fact that we don’t throw it!  My son and his friends have laughed for hours torturing the dog.  It’s torture for me because that squeaker is annoying.  The dog loves it.  However, you would think after 3 times he would get suspicious, after 7 times sit in front of you knowing you have the toy.  Nope!  Every single time he goes looking!  Except when Foo-Gee’s had enough his payback is to chase him and SEE if you can get the toy.  Even when they tried the tag team approach, the boys would eventually give up because he is QUICK, can outsmart and outrun them.  I will admit I was holding him to a higher standard if only because my experience was with a German Shepard.  Later I found out that this is common with some dogs.  Suffice it to say Foo-Gee would never grow up to be one of those outdoor stick fetching dogs!

Yogurt – Foo-Gee loves to polish off the last bits in a yogurt cup and will walk around the house for hours with a yogurt cup dangling from his bottom lip.  Although it didn’t dangle from his lip at first.  Eventually he figured out that you can’t see what’s in front of you with the yogurt cup in front of your eyes.  This he realized after walking into the walls a few times.  In the process of learning this, my son would call him and Foo-Gee would look up cup and all.  It was pretty amusing seeing the dog looking around with a cup blocking his view!  The fact that he was looking around trying to find who called him had us thinking he possibly was brain damaged from the balls hitting his head.  When he finally figured it out the boys would try and trick him by giving him the cup in an effort to get him to cover his eyes but Foo-Gee would turn it upside down.

By the way, do not try and take that cup away.  It had to be totally cleaned for him to part with it and until it lost that yogurt smell he didn’t give up the cup.  He even growled when you tried to take it. So until he walks away from it – hands off!

Briefly I changed brands and brought home Yoplait whipped yogurt in a taller and thinner container.  I’m in the kitchen finishing off the yogurt and he’s nervously anticipating me giving it to him.  Every time I dip my spoon into the cup he does a circle, prances from paw to paw and makes little noises.  As usual I place it on the floor and go inside to watch the news with my son.  While watching the news we begin to hear this tapping noise so he turns down the sound and we look at each other saying, “What’s that?”  The sound is getting louder and louder.  Out of the corner of my eye I see it and start laughing so hard I can’t breathe.  My son is asking what’s so funny but I can’t talk because I’m laughing so hard.  He gets up to investigate and now he’s laughing so hard that he can’t breathe.

Foo-Gee has managed to get his whole snout stuck in the cup right up to his eyeballs.  The tapping sound is coming from him trying to shake the cup off his face.  But instead of shaking his head side to side he’s shaking his head up and down.  As he shakes his head up and down the cup is smacking the wood floor causing his little head to rebound back.  It’s also pushing his nose further into the cup.  The reason we are laughing so hard has nothing to do with the cup being stuck to his face but how he looked.

He look like a cross eyed deranged Hannibal Lector dog.

I’ll give you a better visual.  Imagine Hannibal Lector with the mask covering his face.  Now replace that mask with a yogurt cup all the way up over his nose pulling his eyes together making him look cross-eyed.  Better?

The Chin has a face similar to a Pug with a pushed in snout.  No doubt he got stuck in an effort to get the yogurt from the bottom of the cup.  As we’re trying to delicately get the cup off his snout we could hear him still trying to lap up what yogurt was left.  Dangerous, no!  Funny, hell yes!  When we got it off his face the little nut job was jumping trying to get the cup because somewhere in his deranged Hannibal Lector mind there was a tiny speck of yogurt left.

His best friend Olive watches TV.  My friend Carrie use to keep the TV on for Olive when she went to work and I could understand her reasoning.  The sound of people talking was soothing and calming for Olive when nobody was home.  When she came by Olive and Foo-Gee both had about an hour of horsing around and then Olive would sit - yes, sit - in front of the blank screened TV.  “Do you mind if I put the TV on for Olive?”  Of course not would be my reply.  So Olive would sit and watch TV. Well, little mister started mimicking Olive’s behaviour.  Until he couldn’t be bothered with TV and walked away.

One morning I was watching the news and went to clean the kitchen but I left the TV on.  As I’m doing dishes Foo-Gee is running in and out of the kitchen barking at me with this look of amazement on his face.  Usually that was something he did when he needed my attention and it was mostly to retrieve a toy stuck under something.  I wanted to finish the dishes but he was going bonkers running in and out barking at me.  He did this before but never to this extent; never this excited.  I turned off the water to see what had him riled up and heard him yipping and yapping from the livingroom.  Curiously I stuck my head around the corner and there he was watching TV.  However, it was the show on TV that was causing him to behave in a manner that had me mesmerized - it was  the Teletubbies.  Foo-Gee was talking to the TV in these little yips, yaps and low grumbles.  He’s turning circles and has this wild-eyed look about him.  It wasn’t the round fuzzy Teletubbies he was talking to it was the Sun Baby.  Whenever they showed the Sun Baby  it made him dance around, wag his tail and make these funny sounds as if he were talking back.  I was enthralled watching him and figured it was a fluke nothing more.  Except the next time they were on I yelled to him, “Foo-Gee, the Teletubbies are on TV” and he came running into the living room, plopped himself in front of the TV and watch the entire show waiting for the Sun Baby!  Here’s the strangest thing - I never said the word Teletubbie that very first time he watched the show and went nuts!  Twilight Zone!!!!

His other favorite was The Westminster Kennel Dog show.  The only reason we watched was to see if any breeders were showing Japanese Chins because until we owned one we never knew they existed. Plus, I wanted to see if there would be any recognition should he see another Japanese Chin. No such luck associating himself as a Japanese Chin.  Although he did associate himself with a Mastiff!  Big dogitis!  Part of judging the competition is having them run.  Foo-Gee would get up real close watching them and when they ran off screen he would run to the other side of the TV half expecting them coming through the side.  The look on his face was priceless.  Foo-Gee kept looking around the side of the TV until he’d glance back and see the dog he was waiting for.  I always wondered what was going on in that brain of his.

Farts – This, I admit freely, is going to be awfully embarrassing but nonetheless here goes.  We are on the sofa and he’s sleeping comfortably next to me but I could feel bubbling in my stomach.  At first it was little putts and the cushion absorbed the sound.  Then I could feel something bigger coming.  You know that point in time when something is about to happen to someone when they least expect it and you can kind of gauge what their reaction might be.  Well, I didn’t have that feeling.  So I leaned sideways and expel a long, loud one.  To this day I cannot figure out what made him think that meant someone was at the door but he jumped down and ran to the door barking.  In order to quiet him I had to open the door to show him that no one was there.  Back on the sofa we go.

My barrage continued surprisingly with no other reaction except for the last one.  It was loud, long and prompted him to jump up as if to say, “What the hell was that?”  Still he comes back and sits at my side while looking around with his ears straight up thinking maybe something is going to pop out somewhere.  Maybe he thought he would be safe because MOMMY WILL PROTECT ME!  Oh what dogs don’t know about humans!

He’s almost settled down next to me getting comfortable when this putridly foul odor started to waft up and catches his attention.

I’m not exaggerating about the events that happen next – he gets up, turns and starts backing up to the other side of the sofa all the while looking at me in disbelief.  At that point I had to get up since the smell was even getting to me.

My poor dog!  Oh good, mommy got up I’ll go sit in the nice warm spot she left for me.  He’s about to make himself comfortable going in circles but before he does he puts his head down into the cushion for a GOOD LONG SNIFF.

Well, his head snapped up, his eyes bulge out and he’s shaking his head from side to side.

Imagine if you will he’s shaking his head but has not left the spot.  The longer he stands there the more he’s shaking his head.

Could he have had a stroke from the stench?  Maybe!  I don’t know but he kept standing in the stench.

“Dude, move, save yourself,” I say but he kept standing there.

Could the stench have gotten into his eyes temporarily blinding him?  I don’t know!

I’m calling him even though I’m laughing so hard saying I have a cookie (a total lie) and he’s not moving!

By now my laughing fit was so hard that I run to the bathroom.  When I get back he moved to the other end of the sofa and he’s shifting his bulging eyes back and forth from the sofa to me as if to say, “Really?  That came from you? You’re not keeping these cushions are you?”

As I’m heading back to the couch he’s wagging his tail and I know why.  He may have experienced temporary blindness but he didn’t forget about the COOKIE!

From Amusing to WTF!

Pet owners everywhere have locked away in memory a treasure trove of comical looks, amusing antics and awkward things our pets are known to have done.  What I’m going to focus on first are the moments when our pets behave in a manner so uncharacteristic and inappropriate that it leaves us scratching our heads wondering what in the world were they thinking! It’s this moment in time that it prompts the following  reaction -  Sheer Mortification

We have a rather large family on my dad’s side and one of my uncles married a woman from Scotland.  She is very formal, very sophisticated and very elegant.  I’m expressing “very” for a reason.  In hearing about my ill health she paid me an unannounced visit and as I opened the door I saw my Aunt with a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  Of course, Mr. Nosey-body came barking at the door like all 6 lbs. of him was going to deter a would be assailant.  Satisfied that she posed no threat he went back on the floor mangling another toy.  My Aunt made tea and we were in the living room talking when Foo-Gee came over pawing her leg least she ignore his royal cuteness.  Obligingly she reaches down to pet him and he’s loving every second as she continues to make a big deal about what a handsome dog he is.  I’ve come to expect this behavior from my dog because he has always been an attention hog so nothing was strange.  Except… weird as this was the little attention hog gets up in the middle of this and starts to walk away. Now I should have suspected something because he never walks away from being the center of attention.

To this day I can’t comprehend what transpired next but he changed his mind and comes back to what I thought was more attention hogging.  BUT NO, not my dog!  Suddenly he begins to lift his leg toward my Aunt!  The moment I saw his leg go up I scream at him and he scatters.  This all happened so fast that my Aunt didn’t know why I was yelling at him.

For an instant there was nothing I could say; I sat there mortified with my mouth wide open and a glazed over look on my face. Only for the fact that I noticed it immediately and was staring in disbelief when she looked down at her shoes.  Apologies couldn’t come fast enough.  In my mind I was saying, “please, please let these be old shoes.”

So I asked the obvious, “Are they old?”

“No” she replied, “today’s the first day I’m wearing them.”

Yes, they happened to be absolutely brand spanking new brown leather Italian Designer shoes that now had several visible dark spots.  Not only was I absolutely mortified but when I asked if I could reimburse her for them.

She said, “You probably couldn’t afford it dear.”  Ouch!

As awkward as the situation was the reason that made the situation uncomfortable was this - it was the first time she was EVER in my home.  I knew it would be the last!

When you own a dog you never know what sets them off.  I couldn’t quite grasp the idea that he did this and gave up trying to rationalize the behavior in him that day.  She didn’t have pets so it’s not like he smelled another animal on her.  I chalked it up to bad pet behavior moments.

Now let me focus on the funny side and admit the fact that if he was a kid, Foo-Gee would be the class clown.  There’s no doubt in my mind I would have been called into the Principal’s office every day.  Here are my all-time favorite Foo-Gee moments:

Playing catch – For a dog he is the worst catch player in the world.  We realized he couldn’t catch early on and had to switch to soft toys instead of rubber balls because we were afraid he’d get brain damage from the balls smacking him in the head.  Those soft toys have bounced off his noggin so much I stopped counting.  This dog learned to sit with little effort but catch NEVER!  He doesn’t even catch FOOD!

Our all-time favorite game he falls for is the fake-out throw. Foo-Gee brought over a toy; my son squeaked it working the dog into frenzy and pretended to throw it.  He ran in the direction of the where he thought the toy was and started sniffing, walking in circles and going from room to room.  Every so often his head would pop up with this terrified expression on his face.  My son would squeak the toy and he came hopping back – yes, hopping like a bunny.  Pretend throw, sniff, walk, seek out, squeak and hop back.  We have done this countless times with the same result - he doesn’t get the fact that we don’t throw it!  My son and his friends have laughed for hours torturing the dog.  It’s torture for me because that squeaker is annoying.  The dog loves it.  However, you would think after 3 times he would get suspicious, after 7 times sit in front of you knowing you have the toy.  Nope!  Every single time he goes looking!  Except when Foo-Gee’s had enough his payback is to chase him and SEE if you can get the toy.  Even when they tried the tag team approach, the boys would eventually give up because he is QUICK, can outsmart and outrun them.  I will admit I was holding him to a higher standard if only because my experience was with a German Shepard.  Later I found out that this is common with some dogs.  Suffice it to say Foo-Gee would never grow up to be one of those outdoor stick fetching dogs!

Yogurt – Foo-Gee loves to polish off the last bits in a yogurt cup and will walk around the house for hours with a yogurt cup dangling from his bottom lip.  Although it didn’t dangle from his lip at first.  Eventually he figured out that you can’t see what’s in front of you with the yogurt cup in front of your eyes.  This he realized after walking into the walls a few times.  In the process of learning this, my son would call him and Foo-Gee would look up cup and all.  It was pretty amusing seeing the dog looking around with a cup blocking his view!  The fact that he was looking around trying to find who called him had us thinking he possibly was brain damaged from the balls hitting his head.  When he finally figured it out the boys would try and trick him by giving him the cup in an effort to get him to cover his eyes but Foo-Gee would turn it upside down.

By the way, do not try and take that cup away.  It had to be totally cleaned for him to part with it and until it lost that yogurt smell he didn’t give up the cup.  He even growled when you tried to take it. So until he walks away from it – hands off!

Briefly I changed brands and brought home Yoplait whipped yogurt in a taller and thinner container.  I’m in the kitchen finishing off the yogurt and he’s nervously anticipating me giving it to him.  Every time I dip my spoon into the cup he does a circle, prances from paw to paw and makes little noises.  As usual I place it on the floor and go inside to watch the news with my son.  While watching the news we begin to hear this tapping noise so he turns down the sound and we look at each other saying, “What’s that?”  The sound is getting louder and louder.  Out of the corner of my eye I see it and start laughing so hard I can’t breathe.  My son is asking what’s so funny but I can’t talk because I’m laughing so hard.  He gets up to investigate and now he’s laughing so hard that he can’t breathe.

Foo-Gee has managed to get his whole snout stuck in the cup right up to his eyeballs.  The tapping sound is coming from him trying to shake the cup off his face.  But instead of shaking his head side to side he’s shaking his head up and down.  As he shakes his head up and down the cup is smacking the wood floor causing his little head to rebound back.  It’s also pushing his nose further into the cup.  The reason we are laughing so hard has nothing to do with the cup being stuck to his face but how he looked.

He look like a cross eyed deranged Hannibal Lector dog.

I’ll give you a better visual.  Imagine Hannibal Lector with the mask covering his face.  Now replace that mask with a yogurt cup all the way up over his nose pulling his eyes together making him look cross-eyed.  Better?

The Chin has a face similar to a Pug with a pushed in snout.  No doubt he got stuck in an effort to get the yogurt from the bottom of the cup.  As we’re trying to delicately get the cup off his snout we could hear him still trying to lap up what yogurt was left.  Dangerous, no!  Funny, hell yes!  When we got it off his face the little nut job was jumping trying to get the cup because somewhere in his deranged Hannibal Lector mind there was a tiny speck of yogurt left.

Watching TV - His best friend Olive watches TV.  My friend Carrie use to keep the TV on for Olive when she went to work and I could understand her reasoning.  The sound of people talking was soothing and calming for Olive when nobody was home.  When she came by Olive and Foo-Gee both had about an hour of horsing around and then Olive would sit - yes, sit - in front of the blank screened TV.  “Do you mind if I put the TV on for Olive?”  Of course not would be my reply.  So Olive would sit and watch TV. Well, little mister started mimicking Olive’s behaviour.  Until he couldn’t be bothered with TV and walked away.

One morning I was watching the news and went to clean the kitchen but I left the TV on.  As I’m doing dishes Foo-Gee is running in and out of the kitchen barking at me with this look of amazement on his face.  Usually that was something he did when he needed my attention and it was mostly to retrieve a toy stuck under something.  I wanted to finish the dishes but he was going bonkers running in and out barking at me.  He did this before but never to this extent; never this excited.  I turned off the water to see what had him riled up and heard him yipping and yapping from the livingroom.  Curiously I stuck my head around the corner and there he was watching TV.  However, it was the show on TV that was causing him to behave in a manner that had me mesmerized - it was  the Teletubbies.  Foo-Gee was talking to the TV in these little yips, yaps and low grumbles.  He’s turning circles and has this wild-eyed look about him.  It wasn’t the round fuzzy Teletubbies he was talking to it was the Sun Baby.  Whenever they showed the Sun Baby  it made him dance around, wag his tail and make these funny sounds as if he were talking back.  I was enthralled watching him and figured it was a fluke nothing more.  Except the next time they were on I yelled to him, “Foo-Gee, the Teletubbies are on TV” and he came running into the living room, plopped himself in front of the TV and watch the entire show waiting for the Sun Baby!  Here’s the strangest thing - I never said the word Teletubbie that very first time he watched the show and went nuts!  Twilight Zone!!!!

His other favorite was The Westminster Kennel Dog show.  The only reason we watched was to see if any breeders were showing Japanese Chins because until we owned one we never knew they existed. Plus, I wanted to see if there would be any recognition should he see another Japanese Chin. No such luck associating himself as a Japanese Chin.  Although he did associate himself with a Mastiff!  Big dogitis!  Part of judging the competition is having them run.  Foo-Gee would get up real close watching them and when they ran off screen he would run to the other side of the TV half expecting them coming through the side.  The look on his face was priceless.  Foo-Gee kept looking around the side of the TV until he’d glance back and see the dog he was waiting for.  I always wondered what was going on in that brain of his.

Farts – This, I admit freely, is going to be awfully embarrassing but nonetheless here goes.  We are on the sofa and he’s sleeping comfortably next to me but I could feel bubbling in my stomach.  At first it was little putts and the cushion absorbed the sound.  Then I could feel something bigger coming.  You know that point in time when something is about to happen to someone when they least expect it and you can kind of gauge what their reaction might be.  Well, I didn’t have that feeling.  So I leaned sideways and expel a long, loud one.  To this day I cannot figure out what made him think that meant someone was at the door but he jumped down and ran to the door barking.  In order to quiet him I had to open the door to show him that no one was there.  Back on the sofa we go.

My barrage continued surprisingly with no other reaction except for the last one.  It was loud, long and prompted him to jump up as if to say, “What the hell was that?”  Still he comes back and sits at my side while looking around with his ears straight up thinking maybe something is going to pop out somewhere.  Maybe he thought he would be safe because MOMMY WILL PROTECT ME!  Oh what dogs don’t know about humans!

He’s almost settled down next to me getting comfortable when this putridly foul odor started to waft up and catches his attention.

I’m not exaggerating about the events that happen next – he gets up, turns and starts backing up to the other side of the sofa all the while looking at me in disbelief.  At that point I had to get up since the smell was even getting to me.

My poor dog!  Oh good, mommy got up I’ll go sit in the nice warm spot she left for me.  He’s about to make himself comfortable going in circles but before he does he puts his head down into the cushion for a GOOD LONG SNIFF.

Well, his head snapped up, his eyes bulge out and he’s shaking his head from side to side.

Imagine if you will he’s shaking his head but has not left the spot.  The longer he stands there the more he’s shaking his head.

Could he have had a stroke from the stench?  Maybe!  I don’t know but he kept standing in the stench.

“Dude, move, save yourself,” I say but he kept standing there.

Could the stench have gotten into his eyes temporarily blinding him?  I don’t know!

I’m calling him even though I’m laughing so hard saying I have a cookie (a total lie) and he’s not moving!

By now my laughing fit was so hard that I run to the bathroom.  When I get back he moved to the other end of the sofa and he’s shifting his bulging eyes back and forth from the sofa to me as if to say, “Really?  That came from you? You’re not keeping these cushions are you?”

As I’m heading back to the couch he’s wagging his tail and I know why.  He may have experienced temporary blindness but he didn’t forget about the COOKIE!

[foo-geediaries]

Some much needed words

To say I’m having a tough time finishing Foo-gee’s story would not be far from the truth. 

When I dedicated this Tumblr page to him it was to put down in words everything about his life that I didn’t want to forget.  When we lose someone special it is natural that as time goes by we all, in our innate way, do forget some things, we can recall memories and remember how we felt around them.  No matter who we are memories do fade; yet when we get together with others involved in their life we can relive them moment by moment as we each recall different memories we still keep.  It’s one of those, “Hey, remember when?” scenarios.  I’m not going to discount authentic feelings but rather tell you why these feelings from (and to) Foo-Gee evolved who we all became as he ingratiated himself into our lives. 

Each person that encountered Foo-Gee either fell in love with him or was afraid of him.  It’s not that he was a vicious dog to people that ended up being afraid of him rather when you looked into his eyes he had an extraordinary way of making you see yourself.  That is why some who encountered him couldn’t bear to be around him because they themselves didn’t like who they were or where they were going in life.  But if they had stayed around he would make it possible for them see themselves the way he saw them.  He would have broken through the exterior shell of personal defiance (that some get in life) that could trip anyone up.

No, I’m not crazy and yes I do know what I’m talking about.

The more you got to know him the more he made you understand who you were and even though you might find fault within yourself.  He made you understand that those faults were only a road-map of how we all get through life.  It was a road-map to show us how to be the best we could possibly be.

How's that for an intelligence?

How’s that for an amazing dog?

It’s another reason that when he’s gone there will not be another dog that could ever replace him.  Foo-Gee will be the be all and end all for another dog in my life.

Some ask:  Won’t you miss the companionship?  Won’t you be sad to be alone?  Don’t you want another animal to pour your love into?

To all these questions I say, “No!”

Foo-Gee made it possible for me to continue in life and be comfortable within my own skin.  The love I gave to him and have for him he mirrored right back into my heart and soul a million times more.  I realized that the love he gave to me was the love I should have given myself throughout my entire life.  My life will never be empty because of that generous gift he gave me.

I tell you what I miss – I miss the smell of him after he had been groomed, I miss him waking me up in the morning when he needed to get on with the day, I miss watching him sleep, I miss watching him dream his little dog dreams of running with his friends, I miss chuckling when he wakes himself up with a bark and then proceeds to run around the house barking thinking there’s another dog in the house. 

Yet, thankfully I have a boat load of pictures and videos of him to last through the years. 

The next chapter is ready to go and it’s a humorous look into living with a dog.  There was a ton of editing that went on since it was starting to be one very LONG list of Foo-Gee funnies.  The chapter was turning out to be about 10 pages I had to whittle it down to the best highlights. 

However, after this next chapter things become rather serious because his health started to deteriorate rapidly. 

When he was a puppy and we were told about his heart murmur and how it would affect him into his old age no one ever expected him to live beyond 10 years old.  But here we are at age 16+ and only now are things progressing to a debilitating level. 

About 2+ years ago when he blacked out and had a seizure for the first time we were told that he had an enlarged heart from fluid buildup.  Medically it's a serious issue that requires an exact level of care and can not be remedied.  To make matters even clearer heart problems are a genetically progressive disease for the Japanese Chin breed. 

Except to look at it metaphysically a Monk, or Shaman, would see this as a sign to denote someone whose heart has grown through love by leaps and bounds.  It is a sign that says this person has the capacity to love the entire world and especially those that get pulled into the vortex of their life.  They do not keep this love to themselves but distribute it freely to those who need it the most.

In essence, the more love they have – the more love they give. 

This quality about Foo-Gee was echoed throughout his life. 

Now that I have some free time I will add the rest of the chapters because his story needs to be finished.  Then at some point I will attempt to edit and reshuffle the chapters around so they are in order from first to last. 

As you can surmise, yes, we are coming to the end of our story about the Dog Who Thought He Was A Mountain. 

But what story doesn't end.

It’s only the teller who doesn't want to end it.  However, keeping his spirit alive through words is a way of keeping him alive. 

All Hail the Emperor!

[foo-geediaries]

Chapter 7 - A Dog Will Save Your Life

How do we know when our dog is sick?

It becomes obvious when they are sullen, do not want to play and the ultimate indication is they have no appetite for food.  Dog owners make a trip to the vets where we get the cure to help them be their best.

What happens when a dog owner gets sick?

Dogs do sense that something is not right.  Yet, they try to get you up by doing some pretty funny and at times annoying things.  As the fog in your head clears you wake up to some funny (and at times messy) scenarios.  At least that has been my experience with dogs I’ve owned over the years.

One moment I recall vividly was with my German Shepard.  I came down with the flu and couldn’t lift my head from the pillow for days.  Every so often I would open my eyes to see her there nose to nose staring at me.  Immediately she would stand up and start wagging her tail as if she was waiting for signs of life.  Then as I closed my eyes I remember her whining before I drifted off to battle my fever ridden body.  After 3 days the fever and flu broke; sitting up I saw Lady on the floor next to me and she perked up nearly knocked me over.  It was heartwarming to see that she was overjoyed purely for the fact I was conscious and it’s a beautiful feeling to know someone, although she was a dog, was happy to see me up.

As my eyes began to focus I started to giggle because placed in a perfectly straight line around the perimeter of the bed was every toy she owned including her yucky half chewed bone.  In my mind I would like to think she was saying, “here, does this make you feel better?”  Except what she probably was saying was, “I’m SO bored.  Please pick up a toy and throw it!”

Later that evening my husband told me she sat next to the bed either with her head on the pillow staring at me or on the floor barely leaving my side.  He would take her out but as soon as she got in she went back to me without eating.  He admitted to being a little jealous!  Yeah, that’s right – who’s the man!  Well, woman!

Yet this little fur ball I have did something so stupendous that when I tell the story people are amazed who are not dog owners.  But others who have dogs begin to tell a story of their dog’s heroics.  It is no wonder they make the best companions to service the blind and disabled; or the fact that they are used in search and protection.   Even hospitals that have visiting dogs for the sick know how important this interaction has become.  Patients seem happier and healthier when they are visited and it is well documented it helps in reducing blood pressure.  The categories of the working dog love their job and this accomplishment fulfills their fundamental animal tendencies.  All you need is to praise them for a job well done, show the same unconditional love and supply a great meal.  However, it is fair to say that non-working dogs can behave in the same manner given half a chance; or if you know what to look for.

I know of an instance where a dog started to behave like a service dog without training.  She is someone I met online.  Unfortunately her illness left her partially immobilized.  Standing was something she could do but spent most of the time in a wheelchair.  She told me about her yellow lab.  When she came home after months of being in the hospital and rehabilitation her family was reticent about the dog going back to be with her.  It took a little convincing but they let him stay.  All she needed to do was feed him because she had already trained him to go out and come in on his own.

One day as she was trying to get up her dog positioned himself between her and the walker.  He would do this time and time again.  But not only was he positioning himself in front of her but he would lean into her taking on her weight so that she could stand.  During an outpatient physical therapy session she told them what her dog was doing.  They suggested bringing him in to see how he would behave during physical therapy.  So she did.  As she hoisted herself onto the walking bars the dog positioned himself in front of her and walked with her always looking as she made her way to the end.  When she stopped in the middle he came and leaned into her.  The therapists were amazed how he instinctively was training himself to be a service dog – all without professional training.

What this shows me is that if there is a need a dog will, without training or words, fill that void.  Not every dog is like this but if given half a chance most are since they are faithful to their owner.

Rather than bore you with the medical details of what transpired with me we will pick up the story at a point in time when I was coming home from the hospital after a very serious spinal cord surgery that has left me with many physical deficits.

Dogs’ instinctively sense when something is wrong; my biggest concern was worrying about how Foo-Gee would react in seeing me for the first time in weeks.  I could hardly walk and was afraid that he would jump all over me as he usually did when I came home.

As my father and I came through the door he saw me, came running but stopped.  I noticed he had his head way down to the floor looking up at me.  Instead of jumping all over me he waited patiently for my dad to help me to a chair. Once I sat he cautiously walked to me, put his head very gingerly on my leg and looked up at me with these SOULFUL eyes.  We didn’t need to exchange any words; he knew something was wrong.  I was happy to be home but my work to regain my strength was just beginning and it took a very long time.

For the first few weeks all I did was sleep.  As a little girl I remember my mother saying that sleep was the best remedy to help the body heal and that is exactly what I did; Foo-Gee never left my side.

About 2 months into my recovery I still had problems with mobility.  I couldn’t drive, walking was difficult and I relied on a wooden staff for stability.  It was a staff my son bought at one of the Renaissance Festivals we had gone to over the years.  Until my vertebrae healed I could not go to physical therapy.

One day I was sitting on the couch staring aimlessly and feeling a little down when Foo-Gee brought over one of his toys.  Usually when he wants to play he brings a toy but then you have to chase him to get it.  Once you toss it he’d bring it back and before you had a chance to grab it he’d snatch it so you would have to chase him all over again.

That day I looked down at him and my eyes began to well up because all I could think was will I ever have a normal life again?  I actually saw something click with him; it was this subtle look of knowing in his eyes that I can still remember from 13 years ago.  Instinctively he grabbed the toy, jumped up on the sofa and dropped the toy in my lap.  He never did that before – he is a dog that wants it his way.   Since my arms were weak I couldn’t throw so I casually tossed it.

He brought it back and dropped the toy at my feet; but then picked it up, jumped onto the sofa and dropped it in my lap.

After 10 days he dropped the toy at my feet and when I didn’t bend down he stood his ground and as stubborn as ever stared up at me whimpering.  If there is one thing I can’t stand, it’s whimpering.  So little by little I painfully inched my way down and managed to pick up the toy to toss it.  He brought it back but once was enough.  Without whimpering he picked up the toy, jumped up onto the sofa and dropped it in my lap.  The next day he dropped the toy at me feet.  After the first time around of toss he refused to give in and sat whining until I bent down.

Little by little and one day at a time my ability to bend was getting easier.  He continued having me stretch and bend over and over every day.

About a week after this he took the toy and placed it about three feet in front of me.  I looked at him and said, “Seriously?  You’re kidding me.” After quite a struggle I managed to get on the floor for the toy.  Foo-Gee got excited and started running circles around me.  But then I found myself in a very precarious situation – once I was down there how was I going to get up?

Imagine if you can I am on the floor with weak legs and no strength in my arms to be able push myself off the floor – yeah, that was brilliant!  How are you getting out of this one?  My son wasn’t due home from school for another 4 hours.  Then there’s the problem of explaining to him WHY I was on the floor to begin with.  Ok, Einstein, let’s figure this one out.  I butt crawled my way backwards to the sofa, while leaning on its edge I maneuvered one leg under me and I used the wooden staff as a leaning post under my arm for leverage to get me on my knees.  If anyone needed to film me, this was the time!  I was laughing so hard I almost – almost – peed and that was the REAL reason I needed to get off the floor in the first place.  Once on my knees it was easy to lean into the sofa and get myself up.  Necessity is the mother of invention!

It was then I realized Foo-Gee was giving me what I needed the most – physical therapy.  By having me use my arms, having me bend and stretch my back it added flexibility and strength to every part of my body that was affected.  The simple act of trying to figure out how to get off the floor gave me the incentive to build up more strength to get to physical therapy.  Besides I couldn’t sit around waiting for the medical team to give me the green light.  I needed to save my own life.  Within a month of starting therapy I was given the green light to drive.  I believe that driving was the important step that helped me feel better mentally too.

On the first driving trip by myself I took Foo-Gee for a celebratory car ride to his favorite place in the world – Wendy’s – for chicken nuggets and fries.   It was the one thing I could give him for helping me regain my strength and confidence to endure the next few months of physical therapy.

Unfortunately I’ve created a monster because now when we go to ANY drive through whether it’s the bank, toll booth or coffee shop he thinks its Wendy’s and gets VERY excited.  A lady at the toll booth once remarked, “Forget the money; I’ll take the dog!”  Jokingly I told her, “You want to know why he’s excited to see you?  He thinks you’re the drive-thru and has his order of chicken nuggets and fries!”

It’s funny how that weird looking little shaky fur ball in the store turned into one of the biggest little creatures on this earth to have the largest impact in my life.  It was worth everything good and bad we've been through together.

But nothing can break a heart more than separation; that was something to come and something so devastating to our small family.

[foo-geediaries]

Chapter 6 - Is he a dog or a cat?

The more Foo-gee grew up and into himself he was the funniest dog I’ve ever come to know.

He would whistle – no kidding whistle.  Well, it was somewhere between a howl and an owl hoot.  Every once in a while he would go ooooooo.   If you never heard something like that before, it could be pretty jarring.

When it happened the first time it I was startled.  Not knowing if there was something wrong with him I did the whole mothering thing; but it seemed as if he was ok.  But it happened again and it would happen at the strangest times and when you least expected it – like in the middle of the night.  It used to freaky people out. 

Can you imagine having people over for dinner and it gets to that point where everything becomes silent; then out of nowhere – ooooooo!  Let me say my son had a friend that got so freaked out about the dog that he refused to come over to the house.  That’s ok; I never liked that kid anyway. 

Then the way he groomed himself was very strange.  To watch him groom himself was like watching a cat.  At times I wasn’t sure whether I had a dog or a cat. 

His demeanor was aloof like a cat too.  When he wanted you he was all up in your face but when you wanted to be with him to stroke his fur or play he’d look up with this look on his face as if to say, “Please, this is so beneath me.  I’ll call you.”  Then he’d get up, walk away and show you his butt crack. 

It drove me absolutely bonkers.  No other dog I know, or owned, ever acted like that. 

Did he rule the house?  Oh, yes – remember – all shall worship the mighty Foo-Gee. 

We started to find answers about this breed when I finally found a website dedicated to Japanese Chins.  Until that point there were none of these dogs around that I knew of and even the library has very little.   There was information regarding the Pekingese and Lhasa Apso who are both distant cousins to the Chins – but because the breed was so rare information about this dog’s temperament or health was impossible to find.

As we began to delve into the website about all things Chin what began to emerge was a breed of dog so different than anything out there.  They were very smart and easy to train – that was evident seeing how easy it was to train him.  They did whistle – good now I know he’s not possessed.  They groom themselves like cats – alright that explains that.  They never forget a person they love or hate – this we have experienced because if they did hate you, you weren't getting in the door.  They don’t bark unless someone knocks – very true.  They are the king, or queen, of the castle – that was something we already knew.  They had a sense of humor – really?  They spin like a whirling dervish (huh?). 

Now a full picture about who we were dealing with was becoming evident.  However, the one aspect of the article was how loyal they were.  All dogs are loyal.  As I stated previously I had a German Shepard so I was familiar about loyal animals.  Yet there is something very different about this dog’s loyalty.  My feeling is that because they are small and susceptible to having the demeanor of a very large dog their loyalty is a reflection of how they see themselves.  Since he believes himself to be a Great Dane his loyalty is that much larger.

In the beginning of 2,000 I was having back problems and spent a week flat on my back with my legs propped up.  Foo-Gee stayed right by my side for the entire week.  Even if my son came into the room to take him out the dog would growl and snap at him whenever he tried to get him.  He had no interest in eating or going out.  Really – no interest in food?  Now that is loyal seeing that eating was his favorite past-time. 

So we devised a plan to get him to the front door.  I would get up and pretend to go to the bathroom except I would take the long way around and pass by the front door.  This way my son could grab him and away they would go. 

But on the 2nd day he was already wise to the deception and as I tried to get to the front door he started backing up behind me to subvert my son’s actions of getting his leash on him.  Naturally, Foo-Gee got his way and eventually I wound up having to go outside long enough for my son to get him to the next house.  Then I would hobble back to bed.  See – very smart! 

Once inside he ran right for me and up onto the bed. 

Cats could care less if a body part is hanging off of you.  They would just turn and walk away.  A dog would be bringing his bowl to catch the body parts – not to eat because that would be gross – but to help. 

Yet still there was something about him that was so unique.  It was something I couldn't quite put my finger on but I would find out until a year later just how unique he really was. 

It didn’t take too long before I was up and around and he was up to his old tricks of playing, grooming and being king of the castle.  As long as I was in that bed he was a great comfort to me.  He didn’t want anything from me; he just wanted to protect me and keep me company. 

His playing habits were becoming hysterical – I began to understand about them being comical.  Most dogs keep themselves amused by playing their own game of fetch; even when no one else is playing with them.  Foo-Gee would play fetch with himself and stand there with his head tilted to one side trying to get our attention.  As if to say, “see, look what I just did.”  Yes, he was that much of an attention hog. 

In order to see how far the little joker would go to get our attention we decided to test him and try not to react. Trust me – if you knew this dog that was very hard.  What followed was something I only WISHED I captured on video.  As he performed his one person catch we ignored him.  He started throwing the toy higher and higher – we pretended not to notice.  Then he started getting closer and closer throwing his toy higher and higher.  Again – we ignored him.  He was practically sitting on my feet trying to block my view of the TV and when I still didn’t pay attention he flung the toy at my head.  I calmly put – not throw – the toy on the floor.  Every time he tried to block my view I would crane my neck to look over him just to see what he would do. 

Well, he was not going to be outdone!  With one swift throw he tossed it about 6 feet into the air and stood directly underneath so it would bonk him on the head and stood there with his head tilted as if to say, “come on guys – I’m giving it my best shot here.”  But the look on his face is what got to us. 

Finally we couldn't take it anymore and just burst out laughing.  As my son jumped up to grab the toy he tripped and fell flat on his head.  I swear I don’t know what was funnier – my son laying there laughing hysterically with this head in his hands; or the dog jumping over and over him again and again thinking he was finally playing.  The harder we laughed the more exited the dog was becoming. 

And that’s when it happened – he started spinning, spinning and spinning like a whirling dervish.  I’ve never seen a dog do that except to chase their own tails.  But he wasn’t chasing his tail.  He just kept spinning and the more he spun the faster he spun.  Both of us just sat there with our mouths opened.  When he finally stopped, he dropped his front down with his butt in the air, scooped up the toy and ran through the house. 

That was the first time we saw the progression of this bizarre act.  Whenever he became extremely excited out popped the whirling dervish.  The thing that’s amazing about this whirling is he never became dizzy enough to fall over.  I swear my heart would race thinking that he would spin himself into the wall and crack his skull. 

Imagine trying to explain this to the vet!

I imagine the conversation going something like this: 

____________________________________________________

Vet:       What’s the problem?

Me:        He spun himself into the wall?

Vet:       What do you mean he spun himself into the wall?  His skull is cracked!

Me:        Honestly, he spun out of control and cracked his skull against the wall and gave himself a concussion!  Let’s go to the video tape!  Damn, no video tape and no cell phones invented yet with that capacity!

____________________________________________________

You can see where I’m going with this. 

No vet on earth would believe me – except for the Asian vet who probably didn’t know this about the clown side of the breed.  Thinking he was the biggest dog in the room – yes; being a total clown – no. 

There was not a day that went by where he wouldn’t do something funny, cute or personable – even regal for that matter.  The website was right about one thing – they want to be the center of attention. 

Well, I disagree – THEY DEMAND TO BE THE CENTER OF ATTENTION AND THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND THEM!  And in case you try to forget that little fact, they will remind you by being the most stubborn dog to the point of driving you insane.  Because when they don’t get their way, they won’t let you forget it until THEY are ready to FORGIVE you. 

So now my ITALIAN HERITAGE is mixing in with his breed – this is not a good combination when you are trying (yes, trying) to be the head of the house.  Italian’s are loving, gentle and accommodating but we do have a stubborn streak of our own.  Yet when push comes to shove – guess who’s doing the shoving – the little Prince!  I lost that battle as time went on and only now am I able to admit it! 

By the way, we found out years later that the spinning behavior has become known as the Chin Spin.  Here’s a little dog to put me at ease in body, mind and spirit – mind and spirit yes.  What about the body?  That’s about to happen. 

[foo-geediaries]

9/20/2013 - Communicating with dogs

For the past 3 months Foo-Gee has been battling poor health.  My intentions of trying to get his life story down has been hampered by vet visits and then dealing with my own emotions regarding his elderly life.  Although all the chapters have been written and saved on my computer.  I can't bring myself to review them and I believe it's because I know how difficult it will be to face living without him.  We are at the end stages of his life and I finally had a light bulb go off in my head after the last trip to the vets.

How do we know when our pets are sick if they don't whimper or cry? How can we tell what is going on with them?  Over the past 3 months a series of battles ensued in getting him to go out.  He has never had a problem in telling me he needed to go because he would just go to the door and paw at it.

Yet, he began peeing all over the house and when I tried unsuccessfully to get him to the door (knowing full well he needed to go out) he would just cower and hide.  I started to pick him up and bring him outside and when I did that he wouldn't walk.  His ears would be down flat and his tail tucked under him.  It was as if he was extremely afraid.  To me it seemed as if this dog attack he experienced over the summer played a part in this paranoia he was exhibiting.

Then his hacking cough from his heart condition got worse.  It was vet time and I decided that before they did a full blood work up I wanted them to also check his urine. There was this feeling I had inside that besides a blood test a full urine analysis was needed.  As a woman we follow our intuitions.  OK - sometimes we don't but this time I'm glad I listened to that voice.

After a full blood and urine study the outcome wasn't good. It revealed him to be severely dehydrated, a raging Urinary Tract Infection and the possibility of cancer in the bladder.  Once the initial shock of a possible cancer diagnosis wore off there came a calm voice inside whispering take it one step at a time.

Curing the infection was paramount. He was left there for intravenous fluids to help his dehydration and an initial round of antibiotics.  Once I got him home he seemed so much better.  He was perky and running around.  Then after 3 days of antibiotics - cleverly hidden in blueberry waffles - getting him to go out wasn't a chore and he wasn't peeing all though the house.

It suddenly dawned on me that he wasn't having paranoia attacks about being attacked.  He was in pain, severe pain, due to his Urinary Tract Infection.  His not wanting to go out and cowering was a signal that - yes - something was wrong but it wasn't what I thought.

Dogs communicate with us in surprising ways and when there is a medical problem with them it can manifest itself in bizarre behavior that we don't understand.  I thought it was the dog attack he experienced or maybe onset of old age causing him to pee in the house.  Then I drew a correlation between the pain he was experiencing in his poor little body and his behavior.

We are due next week to go to the vets for another round of blood and urine analysis.  By that time I know the infection will be gone because he actually likes going out again. Now when he goes out he walks and trying to get him back into the house is difficult.  That's a small price to pay in the waning days of summer and his health.  I hope it was the extreme Urinary Tract Infection that was giving off precancerous cells indicating a cancer diagnosis.  Bladder cancer in dogs is devastating; if it is late stages - late stages only gives them a 30 day window to life.

Foo-Gee never complains, whimpers or cries when something is wrong - it is his behavior and I'm going to have to pay closer attention.

By the way, after these trying times with his health the one thing I spoil him with is Wendy's French Fries.

Why not? He deserves it!  He's a great dog!  Here he is with his little chicken leg from where they placed the I.V. needle waiting for his order of fries!

[foo-geediaries]

6/30/2013 - Big-dog-itis - Oh what a fighter!

I had intended to write another chapter in the life of Foo-gee.  Unfortunately, he got attacked by two dogs and since he is elderly his health has become primary instead for writing more information about his little - yet mostly important - life.

There is something to this little guy.  He went up against two big dogs and I credit the owner with saving my dogs life.  He came away with some surface scratches but he has been dealing with a sprain shoulder and neck.

There's another chapter coming up as soon as he's feeling better.

[foo-geediaries]

HELLO!! Don’t you think it would be a good idea to see where I’m pooping! ! (at On the fence)

[foo-geediaries]

Chapter 5 – A Dog Will Eat Just About Anything

By January, 2000 Foo-gee is completely house broken.

Oh what a Joy!

We have escaped the Christmas tree ornament eating contest between man and beast.  We escaped the unwrapping, or lifting of the leg, on presents under the tree.  We escaped eating Christmas light wires and the train set.  It was a joyous holiday; knowing that while we were not home during the day our dog was napping on his favorite chair.  A huge oversized stuffed very comfortable chair was his domain – HIS THRONE!  He never once was inquisitive of anything new in the home for the holidays.  Good boy!

A non-inquisitive dog – h-m-m-m – is there really such a thing?

Even when I had to drive my son somewhere and there were things left on the floor or the table everything would be right where it was when I returned.  I believed that we actually were getting away without having a bad dog.  Did the whole good dog and bad dog conversation I had with him paid off?

My son, my other son (my son’s best friend who stayed at our house more than he went home) and I went to grab some movies.  We made our way to Blockbusters (before on demand) when we got home the dog was in front of the door except there was something odd.

He was excited WAY MORE than usual.  Not only was his tail wagging but his whole body was vibrating. Then he started running from one room to the next.  Back and forth, back and forth (just like after a bath but minus the bath) and normally he was excited to see us when we got home but not like this.  Running, running, jumping on furniture, jumping off furniture – Running, running, jumping on furniture, jumping off furniture and I swear when he ran his paws barely touched the ground.  We were getting exhausted looking at him.  Something was definitely off.

It was then we noticed an intoxicating aroma of vanilla in the air.  Huh?

I don’t have vanilla scented anything in my home.  No oil diffusers, candles or plug-in air fresheners because the smell of vanilla turns me into a raving chocoholic.  Sometimes at other people’s homes when they burned vanilla candles by the time I left my car would be at the first available store to get a chocolate fix.  No kidding; it was not funny!  I swear, if I didn’t have a mental filter by morning you would find me on the floor in the candy aisle with wrappers all around me and my face covered in chocolate.  But I digress – therefore, nothing vanilla scented was in my home – EVER!

My son went to put the movies on the coffee table he happened to notice the table was wet.  It’s a three tiered coffee table with a glass top.  He could see there was a brown liquid that oozed down to the layers below.  When he bent down he smelled vanilla and that’s when he then noticed the Dunkin Donuts coffee cup on the floor.  Of all the things left on the floor or table the one thing the dog couldn't resist was French Vanilla Dunkin Donuts coffee that his friend left behind – a half cup of coffee.  The coffee part wasn't bad but the fact it had 4 sugars in it was!

As I’m cleaning up the dog is continually running and jumping; then he starts to pull all his toys out and carry them around throwing them in the air and then bringing them in to be thrown.  For a better part of 6 hours this mild mannered dog was now hyped up on caffeine and sugar.

“Wanna play!  Wanna play!  Huh?  Huh?

“Wanna play!  Wanna play!  Huh?  Huh?

None of us could sleep that night.  Well at least I could because I went in my room and shut the door for the boys to deal with.  Oh I love being a parent!

The next morning was Saturday and when I came out of my room the boys were already up.  In fact they had pulled an all-nighter because the dog was jumping over them the entire time.  He didn't stop until 7 AM when all of a sudden he just dropped.

By now he was sleeping in his favorite oversized, overstuffed chair.  He looked like such a little angel. 

But pay back is a bitch and I’m Italian.

“Come on Foo-Gee let’s go out!” I shouted.

Nothing; he didn’t budge.

“Come on, come on – let’s go,” I said.

Nothing!

The boys were exhausted and wanted to sleep.

Picture this, if you can, my son picks up the dog and he’s just hanging there like a wet noodle.  He was spent!  Crashed like a speed junkie!   I was determined to keep him on track – plus like I said “Pay back!”  The dog didn’t have the strength to stand so he pee’s lying down in the grass.  We were rolling!  It was so funny!  The dog didn’t wake up to eat and slept the whole day as did the boys.

When everyone finally woke up late that afternoon my son takes the dog out.  Like all communities we have pickup laws.  As he picks up the poop he notices shiny silvery flecks.  So he is perplexed and comes back in the house with the dog and the poop.

As new mothers we examine our newborn’s poop to make sure it’s not too watery, too soft or, whatever, it is we do as new moms that make us feel secure that our children are healthy and eating right.  I’m not making this up.  Ask any new mom?  I’m also not making up the fact that there are books written on what you can tell about someone’s nutrition by looking at poop!

My son shows me the silver flecked poop and we are both puzzled.

“Did anyone see my cough drops?” His friend called from the other room.

“Are they in a metallic wrapper?” I ask.

“Yes.” He answers.

 “Yeah I have them.” I yell.

He comes into the now dog poop smelly kitchen and looks at what’s in my hand.  To make things clear it wasn’t literally in my hand; it was in the poop bag.

“You want them?” I ask.

“No that’s ok.  I’ll go get some more.”

“By the way, what flavor were they?” I ask.

“Menthol,” he replies.

“So that’s why his breath smelled minty fresh last night!” My son chimed in.

For the next 3 days Foo-Gee is pooping shiny silver and wax paper since each cough drop is wrapped in wax paper.  As I think back it amazes me we didn’t have to give him a laxative for the amount of wax paper he ate.  It’s also amazing he didn’t set-off any metal detectors in the dog store!  This would never happen but it would have been funny trying to explain it and funnier for this part of the story.

A friend who I had not seen in a while invited me up for lunch and I brought the dog.  The next day she called to say how nice it was to catch up.  Then she asked me the most curious question “Does your dog eat potpourri?  I’m asking because the bowl that the potpourri was in was on the floor and it was empty.”  Oh, Lord!

It was then that I understood why he was very REGULAR after my visit with her.  However, something like this was reason for a trip to the Vet.  The same Asian Physician who treated him in the Emergency Room became his best friend.

The vet just laughed he said he’d seen worse like the time he had to extricate a Match Box car from a Mastiff’s stomach.

The vet jokes as we leave the office; “At least you don’t need air freshener for the next few days!”

I turn to him, “Doc, every time he barks he farts.  Do you know what dog fart smells like after they have eaten a bowl of potpourri?”

The vet just laughs.  “Get some vanilla scented air freshener that should help.” 

[foo-geediaries]

Chapter 4 - Bucking the Big Dogs

By January of the following year Foo-gee was well behaved, a genuine sweet heart and somewhat trained.  At night we still had to keep him penned up in the kitchen because his peeing was not fully under control.

In April (a month before his birthday) my friend from high school who lived 2 houses away got a new puppy – a female American Staffordshire terrier – she named Olive.  Olive was 6 months old and had not grown into her body so she looked gangly, gawky and awkward.  Her markings were gorgeous.  She was brindled with a white diamond on her forehead, a white chest and belly, white paws and at the very tip of her tail a patch of white.  Foo-gee became very protective and smitten in love with her.  I take that back TOTALLY in love with her.

As the months grew warmer I brought Foo-gee over regularly for play dates and long summer walks.  For hours they would play but the sight of these very different dogs drew funny stares since they were funny to see side by side.  We started to call them Abbott and Costello – Foo-gee a toy breed and Olive a full grown standard size dog.

Olive was a pit-bull and to be fair she was not the type as portrayed by some who are trained as aggressive attack dogs.  She was very, very playful and faithful just like any other dog.  People who have these dogs as pets can be very misunderstood.  Olive would jump all over my son and his friends licking their faces and ears only wanting to be played with.

Olive was great when playing with Foo-gee.  She was gentle with him even though he would egg her on.  One day after running around in the yard Olive lay down but Foo-gee still wanted her to chase him.  So he would try and get her up by jumping on her head, jumping on her back.  She was totally unfazed and just lay there.  Then he climbed onto her head and laid there (one of many moments where a digital camera would have been helpful).  With one motion she flipped him right off of her.  Foo-gee went back on top of her head and again she flipped him off.  She didn’t care that he was this little ball of non-stop energy.  She just kept doing this until he tired out.  When he finally had enough he’d snuggle up beside her and they would nap.

Olive was a short haired dog and loved more than anything to roll around in the dirt being able to scratch her back on the little pebbles.  The other thing she loved was playing in mud.  Where ever there was brown mucky mud (no matter how small or large) Olive would be rolling in it.  Now Foo-gee has silky WHITE hair but at the sight of Olive prancing, rolling and splashing mud – so went Foo-gee.  Did I mention he had WHITE hair?  Until Olive came along Foo-gee had no interest in this type of dog behavior.  We use to call him Mr. Princess Pretty Paws because even the feel of grass under his paws just seemed unnatural to him.  You could tell just by the look on his face when he stepped onto grass he lifted his legs like he was in a band; very unnatural for a dog.  After being unduly influenced by the love of his life when it came to mud Mr. Princess Pretty Paws was all over it; or should I say in it.

Naturally after a day of mud wrestling with his girlfriend he needed a bath.  At first he was curious and eventually liked it.  It was when the bath was over that the real fun began.  We had to keep the bathroom door closed because the first time we left the door opened there were dog puddles (sorry, lakes) all through the house.  We learned the hard way to keep the door closed until he was towel dried; but once that door opened it would be the Foo-gee 500.

He tore through the house running at full speed from one room to the next.  Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth – he would run with his eyes bulging and his tongue hanging out to the side.  Then he would spin like a top, drop down to the floor, regain his balance and then tear ass again through the house until he was dried.

One day after a bath when he was down on the floor my son covered him with a towel – I mean totally cover him and he laid there.  My son said, “Where’s Foo-gee?  Mom have you seen Foo-gee?  Foo-gee where are you?”  The dog didn’t budge.  Again my son would ask the same questions 4 or 5 times.  Then without provocation the dog jumped up fling the towel off with this look on his face, “Here I am!”  The same game any parent would play with their babies.  So now the dog’s a comedian.  Way too funny!

But then Buster moved into the neighborhood.  Buster was a full grown standard Boxer – an unnaturally HUGE boxer.  As we walked Foo-gee and Olive down the street Buster came running up to greet the dogs.  Foo-gee went right for his throat and believe it, or not, Buster backed down.  No one was going to muscle in on his woman regardless of how big they were.  As time went on (even when Olive wasn’t around) Foo-gee went right after Buster.  Foo-gee wanted Buster to know where his place was in the pecking order on the block and it was at the back of the line.  Pushy little thing!

The high school we both attended was just a few blocks away and there was a big field where you can let the dogs run on the weekends.  We thought it would be good exercise to give them room to run instead of just a small yard.  Just as we get to the field there was a woman with two black labs at the opposite end.   When we let the dogs off the leash they both took off to play with the other dogs.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think anything of it.  Except both the other dogs were male and when they encountered each other Foo-gee went for the throat because he was defending his woman.

The older of the two dogs attacked him and pinned him down.  Although he managed to get free he was totally traumatized as we all were.  The woman was shaken because she had never seen her dog react like that before.  We examined Foo-gee and saw a gash over his eye and he was having difficulty keeping it open.  So we got him to the Emergency Animal Hospital.  The woman gave me her number so that she could help with the expenses.  We were all worried.

At the hospital we happened to get a vet who was Asian and very familiar with this breed.  He brought Foo-gee in the back and put a contrast solution in his eye to discover he had a corneal scratch.  An antibiotic ointment was all that was needed and he started to giggle when he heard how it happened.

“Big-dogitis” was his official tongue in cheek diagnosis.

I went, “Huh?”

Then the facts about this particular breed of dog began to open my eyes about his characteristics and the vet continued to fill me in.

First, “He thinks he’s a Great Dane. They don’t know they are small and will never be a lap dog,” said the Vet.  I began to understand what he meant by “Big-dogitis”; it made sense as to why he went after dogs much larger than he is. Also, I could never understand why the dog looked so uncomfortable anytime I put him on my lap.  He would never cuddle up and he would stand there with this strange look on his face as if to say, “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Second, they are great with the elderly and are used as therapy dogs.  Before that day I never heard this expression and my friend (Olive’s owner) was just starting to hear about this because she worked in a hospital.  It made sense about his affection for the elderly who lived around us and why he was so protective of them.

Third, they are one of the most intelligent toy breeds. Ok, this makes sense and explains why his training didn’t take a lot of time.  Just a little bit of repetition and once they get it – they get it.  As for being loyal I will cover that later on.

Fourth, they are stubborn as all get up.  Yes, my dog owned the house and it drove me mad.  When he didn’t want to do something it just wasn’t happening.  Why? The fifth perspective on the dog explains it all.

Fifth, they were known as Royalty in Japan.  Royalty!  Is that why we all need to worship the Foo-gee?  Yes.  Yes, you will.  All will worship the Foo-gee and don’t forget it!

The dog was prominent in Japanese history in that they resided in Royal Palaces of the Emperor.  They began showing up in the west when they were presented as Royal gifts to Kings and Queens in other countries because of their unique qualities of temperament, loyalty and intelligence.  That is how he became known as Princess Pretty Paws to us.  Even though he will love you, you must worship the Foo-gee.  It was all making sense now – the breed, their personalities and just how important they were in a land where a mountain reigned supreme.

But one of the most significant aspect in their history is they were known as Temple Dogs.  Buddhist monks bred and kept this specific breed because of a highly developed spiritual nature.  To them this dog was a protection from malevolent spirits pervasive in nature – Yin and Yang.  To make things clearer for you about how important they were to temples – they later became known as Foo Dogs.  Foo Dogs are those elegant statues that many monasteries have in front where there is a depiction of a dragon looking creature with one foot on a ball.  They stand prominently guarding the entrance to monasteries warding off any evil that tries to enter.  We’ve all seen them, but up until that day I never knew what they were. 

As a matter of freaky coincidence I had in my possession for 20 years prior to owning this dog a Foo Dog bookend.  Now I’m taking a wild guess at this but it’s probably how they ended up in the hands of the Emperor – a lucky charm that would ward off any malevolence.  Any evil that tried to harm the Royal Family whether spiritual or man attempted.  The next time you go to an Oriental Restaurant look around and you may see two of them - large or small.  There is an Oriental Restaurant in the area where I grew up that has two very large Foo Dogs on pedestals guarding the entrance to the restaurant.  Now when I go there I pat them as a sign of respect knowing their history.

As for reincarnation and his fondness for everyone in our neighborhood that may not be such a stretch of the imagination.  Buddhists believe in reincarnation and because he comes from Asia I have to admit I’m not too much of a skeptic anymore about him being reborn into an area that is VERY, VERY familiar to him.  He’s not friendly to everyone; just the people in our neighborhood.

Hmmm – Foo Dog = Foo-Gee.  The name we chose wasn’t by accident it was Karma.  As for warding off evil, this was something supernatural in our lives yet to come.

This is a dog who thinks he is a mountain – not just in size but in demeanor.

I think, therefore, I am – is his mantra.

As for the woman who was traumatized by her dog attacking Foo-Gee; I called her and said it was primarily my fault for letting him off the leash so I couldn’t expect her to pay for what was my misgivings about the nature of my dog.  I told her everything the vet told me about his breed and she was chuckling on the phone wondering why my dog would even come after dogs much larger than he was.

One word – BIG-DOGITIS!!

How appropriate!

[foo-geediaries]

Chapter 3 - The Darling of the Nieighborhood

My landlord.  Well he got over us having the dog but not without complete disapproval in his looks at first.  However, he knew I was a responsible tenant having lived in the apartment for 15+ years.  I made it my personal mission to respect him and the house and improve the apartment as time went on by painting, redoing the kitchen, taking up very old rugs and refinishing the hard wood floors back to their original state.  The house was over 100 years old.  It had the original pocket doors and beautiful handmade crown molding.  It was a gorgeous apartment.  Besides when the landlord’s father saw the dog (who happened to live next door) he fell in love with him.  There was just something so very special about him that appealed to the elderly.

As Foo-gee became familiar with us and the neighborhood the one thing that quickly stood out was that he became increasingly happy.  There was this stride in the way he walked.  As if to say to the world, “Yeah, I’m bad-ass.”  And it was around this time that he was starting to lose his ugliness (well, at least to me).

Yet people who saw him had one of two reactions, “Oh, how cute what kind of a dog is that?”, or “What the hell is that thing?”  He either resembled the cute Gizmo from the movie Gremlins or looked like the Gremlin.  Regardless, the more confident he became the cuter he was becoming; yet to some he remained ugly.  But that’s OK, to each their own.

I grew up in a very small village north of New York City where everyone knew each other growing up.  To give you an idea of how small our village was – when one of us got in trouble and were told to go home before we even got there we had 4 or 5 mothers yelling at us along the way.  The people I grew up with were 2nd generation and our children were 3rd generation to attend the schools in the village.  The block where I lived with my son was the block I grew up on.  My dad lived down the street and the apartment I rented was owned by friends of the family.

Directly in back of our house on the next street was a lovely elderly Italian couple – the Martel's – whose children had all grown up and moved away.  Every night I would take the dog for a walk around the block.  One summer night Mr. Martel was in front of his house pulling weeds.  Foo-gee started to get very excited when he saw him and was pulling me in his direction.

Something surreal began happening between Foo-gee and Mr. Martel.  It was as if they had been best friends all their lives.  Mr. Martel in broken English was calling him his Buddy.  Foo-gee was jumping all over him and letting him do practically anything to him.  Mr. Martel was pulling his tail (not hard) and he loved it.  He even followed Mr. Martel up the stairs into his backyard.  We stayed for a visit and the whole time Foo-gee was pinned to Mr. Martel’s side.  When Mrs. Martel came out with iced tea for us all he could not be bothered with her.

Every night from then on when we took our walks and Mr. Martel was outside Foo-gee went running to him to be petted and fussed over.  If Mr. Martel was not outside, Foo-gee would sit at the bottom of his front stairs staring up, wagging his tail hoping beyond hope to see his friend.  It got to be that I had to physically pick him up and carry him down the block because he refused to move.

One night my dad was on his front porch reading the newspaper.  Foo-gee loved my dad and wanted his attention.  So he sat directly in front of him with his tail wagging begging to be noticed.  But my dad was stoic and paid him no attention.  Foo-gee insisted my dad look at him.  Again – nothing.  That dog sat there staring up at my father until my father sensed him.  He peered out from under the newspaper, “what do you want?” never cracking a smile.  Foo-gee’s tail began to wag like a flag on the 4th of July.  Dad went back to reading his paper.  I could see though my dad beginning to crack under the pressure because he had this smirk on his face.  He knew he was being watched but did not want to admit it.

Finally, my dad caves in.  “What’s up?” he said.  That’s all it took.  Foo-gee became stuck to my dad’s side and whenever we walked down the street and he saw my dad, forget it – I was history.  Even as my dad sat there reading the newspaper ignoring the dog.  Foo-gee would sit directly in front of him staring patiently waiting for his acknowledgment.

It seemed as if I was becoming history in that dog’s eyes.  Except when I came walking into the house after work.  Then it was hello Foo-gee good bye to another pair of stockings.

Across the street from us there was an older gentleman who had lost his wife to cancer a few years prior to us getting the dog.  After losing his wife he became very solitary blocking himself from the world.  We could all see that the loss took its toll on him.

Its evening and we are strolling down the street when I hear him yell from his house, “Hey that’s a Chin!”  This took me by surprise because normally I have to explain to everyone what kind of a dog Foo-gee was.  The man knew the breed very well because his daughter (who did not live near him) also had a Chin.  I have never seen him smile after his wife passed away until that day.  Foo-gee not only made another friend but also brightened this man’s life.  Anytime we saw him outside he would pull me in his direction for some loving attention.  When we got there the dog would roll right over from tummy rubs; it was great to see this man smile and start to interact with his neighbors.

However, and by far, the strongest reaction I encountered was when I went on a date with a man from down the street.  I met him outside and after dinner we went to my place for coffee (it was also a ploy to see what my son was up to).  The minute we walked in this dog started jumping all over him.  The poor man!  He barely had a chance to sit down when the dog was right on top of him licking his face, jumping down, barking, grabbing toys and begging – BEGGING – to be petted and played with.  Just like Mr. Martel it was as if they had not seen each other in forever.  But this was WAY MORE than that.  When I went to hand him coffee the dog was right in between us.  Even my son noticed and said, “ OK, what’s up with that?”

It became a real mystery to us.  This was not one of those annoying dogs who always looked for attention from everyone.  Others came and went in our home and for the most part he was very content licking his toys or sleeping.  Outside he would encounter other people but never with the same reaction as certain people who lived within our block.  This was as if he was reconnecting with people he had not seen in a very long time.

I was beginning to think Foo-gee had been reincarnated from somebody who used to live in our village.  How else could I explain this bizarre behavior at his reaction to family members and neighbors only I've known my whole life?  Could he be a reincarnation?

When I say that he was the darling of the neighborhood it’s because it is just so uncanny how when it came to the elderly, especially men, he just flocked to their side.  Maybe that was the key in his past.  Maybe the only person to ever be nice to him was an elderly gentleman.  Maybe it was his nature to be a therapy dog.

A therapy dog IS in his future but not for a few years.

[foo-geediaries]

Chapter 2 - Foo-Gee trains us

By far the hardest part of training is integrating them into your life - It takes patience, lots of patience.

After having a German Shepherd I knew that verbal reinforcement works.  Verbal commands, by the tone of your voice, is essential as part of their training if they are to know the difference between right and wrong.  A dog will react sensing your disappointment, or joy, and they want to please you.

However, before any training can begin they have to know their surroundings.  They have to be comfortable and feel safe.  You have to get to know your dog – its human training.  This poor little thing didn’t feel safe at all and I was beginning to suspect that the first 3 months of his life were anything but happy, or secure.

A name – that’s what was needed prior to anything else.  Since he was Japanese only a Japanese name would do.  I wanted to call him Sushi.  But my son refused saying his dog (the first implication of his responsibility toward the dog) was not going to be named after a food group.  Japanese names were hard to come by when it comes to their meaning.  What about Ninja, or Suzuki, or Takahashi.  I came up with names that had no meaning other than they were Asian in nature.  It was then we looked at each other and said the name after the most prominent thing in Japan – its largest mountain.  Except the spelling was not the same – Foo-gee.  Yes, a new age of spelling names in a clever way was here.

Except Foo-gee was a mountain.  The most beloved natural landscape painted in almost every piece of Japanese artwork through history.  You could see it carved in temples.  You see it from the sky on approach to Japan from the air.  Its very existence has sprouted stories throughout Japan’s history.  For some odd and strange reason it seemed to fit this little guy.  A year later we would find out how his name suited him.

For now – he needed to feel secure.  Foo-gee definitely picked up on our vibes.  He knew what he was doing to us emotionally and as the next two weeks progressed he started to come out of his shell.

Man-o-man did he come out of his shell and out of the kitchen peeing and pooping all over the place.  Again with a lot of positive and negative vocal reinforcement his training to do his business outside proved somewhat easier over the next two weeks.  The peeing thing was easy when he started smelling other dogs outside and wanted to leave his mark too.  Until we had established a routine I was taking him out so much I almost gave the poor thing a bladder infection.

It was the pooping that bothered me.  My son would not give him the time in the morning to get his little bowels moving.  The minute he came in – poop!  When I got home from work I made it a point to take him for a long walk to be relieved of what I knew would be an explosion.

During the day and night he was fine except in the morning.  It got to be habitual that he would poop in the house.  One morning I had a bright idea to try a different technique (after a poop session behind the couch).  I picked up his poop and him and brought everything outside; I put the poop on the ground and pushed his face near it and said in a firm voice, “Good boy!”

It was funny how he looked up at me and seemed to say “Got it!”  From that day on he did not poop inside.  He was proving to be a good listener.  Dare I say it – better than my son?  But pooping in the house now reverted back to peeing in the house.  Until he had a handle on his routine we had to pen him in the kitchen both day and night.  Dogs will not do their business where they sleep or eat.

It was getting my son trained that proved to be harder.  My son started to buck on his responsibility just as I suspected.  Getting my son trained on taking time before school started and walking the dog until his business was finished outside was really starting to PISS ME OFF!  It became apparent that my son loved the idea of having a dog but not the responsibility – just like the cat.

So I did something so foul – something so unexpected and uncharacteristic to my nature.  I felt myself morphing into my mother and expressed something I would only hear her say to me when I was not keeping up my end of some responsibility.  I pressed the “I’ll get rid of him” button as my trump card.  Yes it came to that.  Yes it worked.  Yes I have used it quite a bit.  Never underestimate the power of the “guilt” buttons.

Oh I can imagine all the grunts and groans but it works.  Sometimes reasoning is not heard.  Guilt is every woman’s heritage.

Once he became familiar with us and grew comfortable reacting to his name and the words “let’s go out,” it was time to get to the real stuff.  Sit, stay, and lay – the commands that are life savers.  Especially stay.  I have been in situations with my shepherd when that word – just one word – saved her life.  How else would they know a dangerous situation?

Shepherds are very intelligent.  So how will that translate to this little ball of fur?  It was time to find out and it was time to show my son the ways of the force – the “dog” force.  I armed myself with pieces of liver snacks and set to work.

It is important to train a dog without resorting to hitting them.  Once you use your hand to hit a dog they will never know the difference between a pet or a slap.  It’s confusing to them and ends with devastating consequences – an uncontrollable dog, or a dog fearful of its owner.

The important part of training is consistency and it needs to be done every day.  Sit was the first command.  How do you make a dog sit?  I took a piece of training snack and when he was directly in front of me, I started to push it towards his face but never letting it go until his butt plopped down on the floor.  I said the words, “Good sit.”  He did not have a clue.

As you do this little by little you start eliminating the word good.  They may still have no clue but the wheels are turning.  It’s like this cartoon show I saw (copyright infringement rules) when the family gets a dog and all the dog hears is murmur, murmur, mumble, mumble.  You can see it in their faces.  They don’t get it.  Ok.  I have a defective dog.

We kept this up for a few hours a one night.  Sometimes he almost gets it and is doing that one inch more and your butts on the ground move.  Then the vacant glazed look comes over him.  I’m left thinking of what a co-worker told me that small dogs are not smart or trainable.  After an $800 investment buyer’s remorse was the first thing on my mind.

Foo-gee amazed on the third night.  I felt him on my heels so I swung around and (putting on my best command voice) “Sit,” I say.  Bam!  He sat.  No treat – so maybe he’s not as dumb as I thought.  Maybe there is hope for him.  Why did I feel the need to think that maybe he only understood commands in Japanese.  My shepherd understood English not German.  When it comes to dog training you think all sorts of nutty things when dogs don’t perform the way you think they should.

Then we noticed something about his intelligence level.

One night I was pointing to something Foo-gee was in front of me and he sat.  As we were training him I was also using hand cues.  A flat hand was lay – that one is a very difficult trick for them to learn.  Stay was your full hand up just like “talk to the hand.”   Yes, sit was a pointing finger.  Just for giggles I started to do the hand gestures without verbal commands.  Foo-gee did everything he was taught and all without a treat.  My son and I stood there with our mouths open.

We were so happy about it that we bent down really fast to congratulate him.  “Good boy, good boy!  No, no don’t pee, don’t pee” - too late.

Here it is 15 years later and that is the one thing we cannot break him of – any time someone reaches down really fast to pet him he just lets loose.

We realized more that he was indeed a puppy mill product.  There were speculative underground reporting of puppy mills and that behavior is common.  They would reach down to abuse, yank and beat dogs.  Our safe guard from him peeing when people would see this adorably face would be – “DON’T TOUCH HIM” – it would freak some people out thinking he was going to bite them.  But when we explained you need to get down to his level to pet him.  That was fine; most people understood and took the time.

Except for the elderly – his behavior around them was exemplary.  They could pull his tail, reach down as fast as they wanted and he would not pee or even turn around to bite them.

Every breed of dog has a behavior pattern and I wanted to know more about Chins.   At the time the internet was in its infancy but even the local library did not have any books about them.  It would take a few more years before I would find any accurate information.  Once I uncovered the Japanese Chins place in history I would never again underestimate his intelligence or character.

I would find out that Chins have a complex when he started playing with the big dogs.

[foo-geediaries]

Chapter 1 - He Chose Us!

Our dog is almost 15 years old and if I don’t write these memories down they will be lost to our family history forever.  His is a story worth telling.  Maybe it’s because he is having medical issues and I have begun to think about what our lives will be like when he’s gone.  Going down memory lane with him has been fun and melancholy.  It is worth blogging about because seeing him have a full seizure the other night made me think how he entered our lives.  Not how he is going to leave us because the memories he has given our family is worthy to blog about.

We first saw him in a pet store.  My son and I were accompanying a friend and her daughters to get them a puppy.  At the time small independent pet stores were sprouting up all over New York and they were selling pure bred dogs.  Years later we would all find out nationally that they were acquired through breeders who couldn’t sell them because they were the runts of the litter which is fine.  But worse were that a lot of them were puppy mill dogs – just to be clear at the time store owners were unaware of this practice.  Our intention was to help her choose a puppy – not us.  But how can you not be affected emotionally by these little balls of fur?  Each one was adorable.  We looked in every cage for her, played with every pup through the wires just because they were there.  That’s when I noticed my son just standing looking into a cage.

There were two pups in there.  One was a toy white terrier and the other was something I had never seen before in my life. To say he was the ugliest dog was an understatement but there was something so endearing about him.  He was balled up in the corner just shaking.  With these big, bulging and “Pug” like eyes.  His face was pushed in like a pug too.  The hair was silky white with honey colored spots.  This little ball of fur just seemed like he had a story to tell.  All it took was one look from him.

After begging to take the pup into one of the “family” rooms where you could hold and play with them I caved.  I was trying to avoid it as much as possible.  Here I was trying to put on my game face because my landlord didn’t allow pets at all and after having dogs before I knew the responsibility involved.  Now I am publically admitting for the first time I secretly wanted to hold him too.

When they brought him in he just sat there crouched in a ball shaking with these big bulging eyes and pushed in face looking like something so perverse.  All I kept thinking was he definitely has abandonment issues.  Maybe he was so ugly that even his own mother didn’t want him.  Ever so gently I picked him up and pulled him to my chest.  His hair was so silky and he smelled like new puppy.  He just lay in my arms close to my chest listening to my heart as it poured out this emotional burst.  I handed him over to my son who never dealt with a dog before showing him how to hold and make the dog feel secure.

For my sons 5th birthday my sisters brought him a kitten from Forgotten Felines only things didn’t work out so well with the cat.  After months of asthma attacks we found out that he was extremely allergic to cat dander.  Unfortunately the cat had to go because no amount of medication was helping.  He was devastated even though at the time it seemed he didn’t like the cat.  Because when it came to feeding her or changing the kitty litter you know who was left with the job.  But when the woman came to pick Sparky up I never knew the meaning of heart ache in my son until I saw him run into his room, fling himself on the bed and wail.

So 4 years later here we are at the pet store and my son is begging me to take him home. You were allowed an hour with the animals.  Great! Guilt has now entered the picture.  Now I’m holding a dog I don’t want to let go of and I’m the one feeling guilty about giving him up.

The attendant came in to take the dog and I asked about the breed, allergy issues and so forth.  That’s when we found out it was a Japanese Chin.  But it was a silky haired dog and if you were allergic to cats chances are you would be allergic to silky hairs as well.

I was fighting myself.  Should I, shouldn’t I.  What about my son’s allergies?  My son was getting to the age where he needed to learn about responsibility and a dog would be a lesson.  But then I thought of the cat.  You don’t walk a cat.  No matter rain, sleet or snow, unless you have a fenced in yard, you were walking a dog.  It is a HUGE responsibility and an expensive one at that.  I’ve had dogs through my single life but never as a single parent.  Dogs become part of the fabric of your family for 15+ years.  It’s a big commitment.  Plus we can’t have a dog in our apartment.

True I was in a better place working hard to gain financial independence as a single parent but in the back of my mind I was saying, “No f--king way!”  However, the more I looked at him the more I kept saying in my heart, “he’s the ugliest dog in the world and no one would ever take him.”  This justified my reasoning for my real feelings of wanting this little dog.  Then I caved.  Damn it!  Why did we ever take him out of that cage?  More so, why did I let me son talk me into it.  Liar – I wanted to hold him just as much as he did.

I put a deposit down and we went home.

I knew my landlord would be furious and now I felt guilty because even though I could get my deposit back there was something about this little ugly shaking ball of fur that I couldn’t get out of my head – or heart.

After 5 days we picked him up along with all the things we needed – food/water dish, leash, toys, food, etc.  They had bathed him and when we went back he didn’t seem so ugly just scared and pathetic.  He still couldn’t stop shaking.  They handed him over to my son and they handed me the bill - $800 for a pure bred ugly, pathetic looking, shaky dog who just happened to melt our hearts.

It was a devious plot by this dog.  How he managed with those “big puppy dog eyes” and pushed in face to shake me to my foundation and actually give me that sense of love for something so frail I hadn’t felt since my son was born.

He managed to pick us without us even knowing and gave us something special for the next 15 years – a memory bank worthy to put in print.

So his story begins.

[foo-geediaries]

Hey! What can I say - I love mud!!!  This is me when I was 6 months old.  I was playing in the mud with my best friend Olive.  Hang with us awhile and you can read the story of my life.