My Shiba tried to murder my boyfriend.

My boyfriend, Mischa, is on dialysis. Long, sordid tale. Lately, we had been allowing Tierce to sleep with us on the bed. This, as the events of this morning proved, was a mistake.

At 4:30 AM, Mischa and I were awakened by his dialysis machine's alarm.

"No. Oh, no," he said.

"What?" I mumbled, struggling with the weight of a sleeping puppy that pinned the blankets down around me.

"Tierce chewed on the line."

"Fuck."

He immediately went downstairs and did a twin bag (for those of you uninitiated into the joys of terminal kidney failure, this means a bag of saline solution pumped out/into the abdominal cavity) to try and flush any bacteria out of his system. Then another. Right now he's on his third and is snoring on the couch while I chronicle these events and wonder if he's going to have to be helicoptered to the kidney care clinic in Victoria later this morning... or afternoon... or evening.

For those of you on the edges of your seats, yes Tierce is alive and well and unkicked/beaten/strangled.

Moral of the story: Crate your puppy at night.

Tierce battles the forces of darkness!

Random

I am remiss; on August 27th, it was Shassi's 14th birthday. Happy Birthday, Shassi! And here's me playing with Photoshop...

Travelling Tierce

Last week's tragedies are, blessedly, water under the bridge. Tierce's limp is well-nigh gone and he seems to have forgotten all about the evils of wasps.

We went up to Port Alberni on the bicycle last Friday together. I have rigged up the trailer to carry him safely with the help of a VestHarness attached to a coupler that snaps on to the D-rings inside the trailer. He was a very good puppy for the trip!

He did get overwhelmed by all the kids at the SCA event that we went to. My boyfriend had brought his crate and ex-pen up in the car, so he had a secure place to stay when things just got too much.

I loved having Tierce at the event, but dogs require a LOT of care at SCA events (or any event that people go to in the high summer).

- frequent visits to fresh, clean water
- appropriate food and limiting the amount of "junk"
- ready access to shade
- SUPERVISION, especially when the event features a lot of kids running around
- a cool, private place to escape to when Puppy needs to unwind.
- Constant control. A dog should never be running loose at an event. Period.

We had one problem with a MinPin running up to Tierce and attacking him. Not that I was worried about Tierce, but I certainly didn't want him associating dogs running up to him with pain and aggression. People who coddle their little dogs really piss me off because then the little guys think they own the world and become hell on four legs. Luckily, the little dog was mostly kept on a lead for the rest of the event (but still managed to break free twice) and we mostly didn't have any further problems. The Bearded Collie who also attended was a 5 year old female who had no patience with puppy antics and, although she was polite, she made it clear that she was not to be pawed about. Which is good, since Tierce needs to be taught not to be rude.

Tierce passed his puppy preschool with flying colours :) We're going to enter him in the next class in September.
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Not a happy camper

On the evening of July 30th, 2007, the air was rent by shrieking. Tierce had been running around the yard on his last run of the night. We didn't see exactly what happened, as he was at the other end of the yard and it was dark out, but he came limping towards us, favouring his right front leg. Examination proved that he had no cuts or abrasions, no painful areas and that he had a full range of motion. We put him to bed immediately in his crate.

In the morning, he was still lame and in pain, so I called the vet and received the instruction to watch him for the next day or so and to bring him in if he was not improving. He improved rapidly, which leads us to believe that he wrenched his shoulder and pulled a muscle. We are keeping him quiet.

However, on a sedate visit to the yard to perform his ablutions, the air was once again filled with shrieks and screams. A wailing puppy with a bump on his nose and a couple angry wasps trying to burrow into his fur to sting him lay crying on the ground. I ran to him and killed the insects, but his nose is puffy. He is going to spend another quiet day, even a quiet week, inside his ex-pen.

Oh, and his latest trick - learned during his injury - is jumping to the top of the ex-pen and levering himself over. Now I have to roof it with a tarp. Yay.

I feel more sympathy with mothers of toddlers now than I ever have before.

She's still here

Yesterday, everybody but Tierce was at Mom's, sorting stuff for the Garage Sale that was to free us of the junk that we have moved from basement to basement for the last 25 years or so.

Near the end of the sorting, I let Shassi out into the yard where she peed and briskly trotted around, sniffing at things and looking offended when her feet led her into a ball or a clump of grass that her eyes didn’t warn her about. My aunt was nervous for fear that she would wander out the other side of the house and go out into the street. Which she tried. I went around the other side of the house and met her at the gate.

She was not pleased when I carried her back up to the porch and set her down within its confines. I was wistfully remembering her when she was younger and the gleam in her eyes when she was caught after leading us a merry chase. Wasn’t that fun, the eyes used to say. They used to be brown, but are cloudy, now, and barely register anything besides light and dark.

She is kept from the yard and the street there by two plastic panels that are held in place by strategically placed pots of flowers. Unfortunately the one out to the street was not closed all the way and before I realized it, Herself trotted purposefully through.

I ran after her, blessing the near-14 years that made her unwilling to go past a brisk trot. She broke into a gallop when she realized how close I was, but I grabbed her before she really took off. Back to the porch we went. The gate was pulled fully across and a bunch of pansies kept it from going anywhere.

Undaunted, Shassi again headed towards it. With a hard shove of her nose, she pushed the gate aside and again briskly trotted towards the street. Again, I ran out to grab her and piled three more flower pots against the panel.

Just before she bowed to the forces against her, she glanced up at me and in her cloudy eyes I saw a familiar gleam.

Old for sure, but not dead yet.

Paddler Puppy

Tierce went kayaking for the first time today. He did very well! Didn't jump out of the boat and didn't capsize us. This is good.

The first stop was at the local kayak store to outfit Tierce with a PFD. He was NOT impressed. However after a good sulk, he accepted the PFD with bad grace, kicking up his hind legs and chewing on the tabs when he thought I wasn't looking.

We went to Westwood Lake, a popular recreation spot in Nanaimo. Fortunately, due to clouding over, there were not a lot of people there and the lake was nearly empty.

I first put Tierce in the cockpit, but found that this was impracticable, because his head was in the way of the paddle. We then tried putting him in the front hatch, which was much more successful. As you can see, I risked my camera cell phone to bring readers pictorial evidence of Tierce's exploits.
He didn't try to get out of the hatch, although he was a bit ill at ease. Next time, I'll make a more comfortable bed for him in the front hatch so that he can lie or sit in comfort. I also want to design some kind of cover that allows him to pop up to breathe and look around, but minimizes rain and water entry. I was thinking of some kind of "hood" that he could stick his head through. I also need to arrange a way that he can have adequate access to water during a long kayak trip. I was toying with the idea of affixing, somehow, one of those no-spill covered water bowls to the inside or outside of the hatch. If it was outside, I could always arrange a system where I could pull back an elasticized cover so that Tierce could take a drink without leaving it open for seawater or dirt to get in. I can even pack supplies around the opening so that the hatch is still carrying supplies while accommodating a Shiba.

My biggest fear is capsizing and having Tierce trapped in or under the boat. I'm thinking that I'm going to have to arrange a wet-exit/panic cord that clips to my PFD to rip the cover off the front hatch and let Tierce swim free of the kayak. His PFD is also going to be attached to my PFD in case of capsizing or a sudden urge to battle killer whales. In the event of his being trapped, I could follow the line to his PFD.

I'm hoping that Tierce learns to like kayaking and seeing new places, because I want to take him on kayak tours with Mischa and I and friends of ours. Here's hoping! If I get him used to the kayak at Westwood Lake and other safer places to paddle, he should soon be accustomed enough to handle sea kayaking without too much trouble.

Shassi - AKA The Misanthropic Shiba

On October 22nd, 1993, I brought Shassi home. She had been born on August 27th, 1993. Now, it's two months shy of her 14th birthday.

I see her growing more vague now. She's nearly blind and at least partly deaf. (We don't know how deaf; since she's never listened to a thing I said in her entire life). She has progressed from giving other dogs the evil eye to trembling violently if she encounters one. She has her little routine with my mother and aunt and spends most of her time sleeping now. She needs some help in and out of the car.

It's funny how a dog's life can mark an era in a human's. I got Shassi when I was 16 - an awkward, self-hating, undersocialized 16. Now I'm three months shy of my 30th birthday. Well, I'm a bit more socialized at least. During Shassi's tenure, I graduated high school - back when it still meant something, left home, started The Misanthropic Shiba, graduated from college, joined the military, left the military and returned to Nanaimo.

Shassi, ever since she toddled into my life, has always been her own dog. At first, it was startling and almost offensive. Dogs were supposed to come when they were bloody well called, dammit! They were supposed to at least pretend some regard for you past the thirteen seconds that it took to ascertain that you hadn't brought any meat or cheese home from the store. They weren't supposed to be the catalyst for the most absurd events that cling to the memory of one's growing up.

We got used to it, even to the point of dragging out the latest Shassi story whenever someone wanted to know if anything interesting had gone on in our lives. Shassi was the dog that everyone gravitated to, proving once again that people are attracted to beings that couldn't care less if everyone around them lived or died. Kena and Buddi, the elder dogs of the pack, were perfectly happy being petted and made much of, and I daresay they got their fill. But Shassi was special. A dog unto herself.

I wish I was more like her. Not to the point where I say, "To hell with everyone!" and live only for my immediate gain. But to the point where I can forgive myself and think well of myself even if I've made mistakes or done something stupid or thoughtless or careless. The ability to take note of a situation, take the lessons to heart and move on is something that my dog possesses that I really wish I did.

But I'm only 29 and I have time. Shassi is nearly 14 and her sun is setting. I believe that she has a year or so left; perhaps even two or three. But it won't be long, in the terms of a human lifespan.

Shassi, dog of my childhood, I love you. For your sake and the sake of all the dogs who I was privileged to share my life with, I wish - I hope - that there is a better beyond where we will meet again.

A wiser puppy

Tierce has settled down some now. He is mouthing a lot less and his tantrums have slowly dwindled. This is good. He is walking a lot better onlead now - actually trotting and moving ahead! Puppy class will commence on the 24th - for us humans!

Tierce Temper Tantrums

Well, Mischa and I finally experienced what Mom went through last weekend. Tierce was lying in Mischa's arms and decided he needed to get out of them NOW! When thwarted, he started baring his teeth and snarling and twisting to get free.

Mischa shook him by the scruff of the neck and held him down. He wasn't hurting Tierce, but the cacophony of wails and screams would have had one believe that the dog was slowly being roasted over an open fire. Then Mischa carried him over to the ex-pen and dumped him in. Silence. A slightly bewildered puppy stared at us through the wire. I picked him up and cradled him. Nothing.

I had previously emailed both Tierce's breeder and Shassi's breeder about what Mom went through. Apparently it's not unheard of, especially when the Shiba is a little alpha male. Tierce did the equivalent of a three-year-old human screaming thrashing and kicking at anyone and everyone.

BUT... and this is a big but...

Mom still has that deep scratch. We're going to be watching Mr. Tierce very carefully for signs of another temper tantrum and responding to them accordingly. This kind of thing has the potential to get out of hand VERY quickly.