Living with a Labrador

Every month I go through a personal struggle related to poisoning my dog. Specifically I’m speaking about flea & tick and heartworm medication. I have Brodie on both medicines, but I hate it. I justify it in my mind always with the following internal dialogue:

Heartworm – as much as he swims and is exposed to open bodies of water he has an increased exposure to mosquitos therefore heart worm. A ‘tax’ (if you will) on his swimming life, he is forced to pay it by consuming one heartworm tablet per month. I know in my mind the risk and reward is balanced. He is exposed and he needs to take the tablets to protect against getting a horrible canine disease.

Canine heartworm

Flea & tick – as active as Brodie’s lifestyle is; running, parks, travel, etc… he is exposed to fleas & ticks everywhere. Earlier in his life before putting him on this regimen, I removed some very large ticks from his belly. So I know, that he is exposed, at perhaps a higher level than most backyard dogs.

Flea

The internal dialogue in my mind justifies giving him these medicines. BUT my heart drops to every time I FORCE myself to dispense him the doses. Its sad, Brodie pouts, he slinks around and rubs his back all over every surface that is his height to try to rub off the liquid poison that I place directly on his skin. When I give him the tablet he looks at me with a soulful set of eyes and forces himself to chew the tablet – knowing that I am standing there waiting for him to consume it. The emotional factor of dispensing and consuming these meds weighs heavily on both of us. I carry my guilt around for a day or two, but then it’s forgotten for another 28 days.

This struggle is monthly and I hate it. Brodie has a wide variety of emotional expressions and I take them too much to heart. I am also aware that he likely is reading and playing off of my emotions and giving me the response I want versus something that is genuine from him. I GET ALL OF THAT – but even in my ‘aware’ state, I still struggle giving him these meds. I ‘feel’ like I am poisoning my dog – that is the core of the issue. Every month I make sure my emotions are overridden by the logical fact that a dog as active as him needs these medicines to sustain his active and healthy lifestyle. In the end, I chose poison and therefore a healthy Labrador.

As fall approaches and the mornings get crisp and the sun starts to fade sooner in the evenings I get happy. I love summer, I really do, but Fall is my favorite season. It also happens to be my birthday! I won’t ever be able to think about my birthday without remembering my birthday when Brodie was 3 years old. I always spend my birthday on the Houseboat, on the Delta, or somehow on the water. We had birthday dinner plans at a local Delta restaurant, and had our houseboat on their dock out front. The day itself was wonderful – weather was spectacular, Mark and I took a boat ride down my favorite slough, Brodie was swimming and hanging out on ‘his new dock’, we met great friends for dinner, and drank the night away listening to music. Mark went to bed first, I followed an hour or so later. Best of my recollection it was about 11 PM when I went down to bed, Brodie was with me, and I locked the sliding door and assumed we were all going to bed for the night.

Mark woke me up in the middle of the night with a shove and said: ‘Ned is on our back deck’. I’m closest to the back deck, so I rolled out of bed and starting walking towards Ned. I believed that our friend’s dog had returned to our boat looking for Brodie, or dinner, or something. With each step towards the back door I was stirring up all sorts of pissed off for my friend’s lackadaisical attitude about his dog – how could you NOT know where your dog was in the middle of the night??? I was going to have to get my shoes on, brush my hair & teeth, and return him to his owner about a half-mile away. AND not disturb my sleeping angel while I wrangled another dog.

I was wiping the sleep from my eyes and still taking steps towards the back when I realized it was Brodie on the back deck, NOT Ned. He was soaking wet, swimming and wondering why I was awake!!!! I was terribly confused, my brain could not process the images it was seeing. I looked at the sliding door, still closed! Yet, here was my dog (clearly NOT an angel) on the back deck swimming the night away. I started yelling at him before the collection of images my eyes were taking in made sense.

Not that night – but Brodie in the window frame of the houseboat on the back deck.

I pulled Brodie into the houseboat through the semi opened back window. He seemed to be fine, wet, but fine. He promptly ran towards the bedroom, onto the small bed that we have on the houseboat, and shook off! Now my semi-sleeping husband was being soaked by the spray coming off the dog, my bed sheets & comforter covered in wet dog. And there was more yelling…..

I still was struggling to process the images and things that were happening. Time check, it was 2:00 in the morning. I went to sleep at about 11 PM – had Brodie been swimming alone, in a strong current portion of the river, in an unfamiliar location for 3 hours!!!! Short Answer = yes

How did he get out of the boat? The main sliding door was still locked, tightly. The kitchen window was open, and the back deck window was slightly ajar. I may never know, but I believe he went out the back deck window. It is the only explanation that makes sense – to see him jump out of the window would have been interesting. He’s done it before, only to find the window CLOSED – which was painful to watch him hit the glass and fall to the floor (but he was being a little shithead then and trying to run away from me when I told him he was all done swimming). Did Brodie open the window with his nose and slip outside after I went to sleep? Short Answer = yes!

What in the hell was I doing awake at 2:00 Am with a wet dog, wet clothes, wet bed, and angry husband? NO answers could make that scenario make sense.

I did what I should have done to begin with. I got out Brodie’s collapsible crate, but it together, and put the dog in the crate where he slept safely for the remainder of the night. He was safe from the dangers of swimming alone at night, but also safe from his parents who wanted to cause him bodily harm.

I finally made it back to bed after changing my PJ’s, having some water, and getting some dry blankets for bed. Unbelievable – I was the lackisdazical dog owner who didn’t know where her dog was! Me, I was that person! Brodie almost always sleeps in his crate on the boat now, especially if I’ve been drinking – he simply can’t be trusted to stay inside the boat and out of the river even in the dead of night. I am thankful that night that Brodie knows how to climb the ladder that is submerged in the water to get onto the back deck. Without that ladder and his skills climbing it, I am not sure what would have happened that night. Because the story ended well, I can laugh about it, but I also shutter to think about what could have happened that night!

More peaceful times on the back deck, while being supervised.

September 5, 2014: Brodie Brown Turns 5 years old

Today is the day my brown baby turns 5 years old.  The birthday isn’t special to him, not that I can discern.  It is special to us, or more correctly, it is special to me.  It reminds me of all the anxiety I built up telling Mark I wanted a new dog (after promising him I would ‘take a break’), the anticipation about visiting a breeder, the overwhelming cuteness factor while looking at multiple liters of puppies.  I knew without a doubt that I wanted a chocolate male puppy.  The breeder didn’t allow you to touch her puppies, but I saw this baby boy with beautiful eyes and a nice block head – exactly what I wanted.  Then we got to meet his ‘parents’ – Angie a sweet smallish black female who was just docile and loving & Turbo a sturdy yellow male with a block head and what appeared to be endless energy (first clue!). Both champion field Labs continuing distinguished blood lines.   

I wasn’t first pick of that litter, so I had to wait…. Those who know me know that patience isn’t a virtue I possess, but I waited with no other choice.  At six weeks she allowed for litter picks, and I was second.  She called and said ‘the chocolate male is your boy, the first couple picked a black female!’ – I was ecstatic and I went the next day to touch my puppy!

Perfect Baby Boy!

We didn’t pick him up until he was 10 weeks old.  A product of finishing some work on the east coast, personal commitments and wanting the breeder to crate train him before I picked him up.  If anyone has every crate trained a puppy it is a painful process; they go from the comfort of their littermates and mother to a plastic box and they cry…boy do they cry.  It takes a few days, sometimes a few weeks, and they learn their crate provides them their own space in the world, no one will bother them, they can sleep, rest, and be safe.  But the process is painful and the breeder offered a crate training service I was more than willing to pay for.

I flew home from New Jersey/Philadelphia the Sunday before Thanksgiving that year, Mark picked me up at the airport and we drove straight to the breeder to pick up “Kennedy”.  I had decided to name him Kennedy (after President John Fitzgerald Kennedy).  The minute I met him for the second time I knew it didn’t fit (second clue, he wasn’t going to be regal).  We called him ‘puppy’ for a few days, then went out for Sushi the night before T-day and started brainstorming names.  I LOVE football, as much as I love Labs…so we tossed around football inspired names.  I thought ‘Montana’ was too long, ‘Rice’ or ‘Jerry’ wasn’t a fit, I rejected ‘Romo’ right away (Mark is a Cowboys fan).  I wasn’t ready to use ‘Walsh’ yet, using Bill Walsh’s name will come at a time in the future – but it really didn’t fit either.  Then Mark came up with John Brodie, the quarterback for the 49ers prior to Joe Montana.  It clicked immediately and because he was also brown – “Brodie Brown” was given his name!  He wasn’t near as excited as I was to have a name, but it truly fits his personality. 

It’s been 5 years now – and we can’t imagine life without him.  He makes us laugh, he makes us mad, he loves us, and we love him – he fits our lives perfectly.  Brodie lives the life of riley; trips, boats, swimming, running, tennis balls, devoted dog sitters, rice & chicken dinners, walkabouts, neighborhood kids to play with, expensive doggie beds, a spot on the sofa, and every toy possible in his toy box.  He is also high energy, requires a lot of exercise, can be obnoxious and stubborn, is definitely spoiled, and at times looks at you like you are the devil.  Every day a learning about what it means to share your life with a high energy Lab. 

On Labor Day each year I throw him a birthday party with cupcakes & a candle, mostly it’s about the kids in his life, but everyone gets a cupcake including Brodie – AFTER we sing ♫♪♪♪♫♫ Happy Birthday to you ♫♪♪♪♫♫… to Brodie Brown.  As we celebrated year 5 Brodie enjoyed his annual vanilla cupcake with all the kiddos he loves!  

Is that a Seahorse or a Labrador? 

I believe that many people believe I am an uncaring Labrador mom when they first witness the ‘seahorse’ maneuver performed by Brodie in the water.  I’ve concluded this through numerous conversations with strangers who witness this for the first time: 

Brodie doing the Seahorse

It looks strange, so strange.  I’ve heard lots of comments….

“He’s going under!”

“He’s struggling, is he going to drown?”

“I think he is stuck on something under the water”

“He’s having a seizure!”

The flat unemotional response from me is “No – he is just grabbing his collar”.  I don’t know how else to explain it.  Most people don’t believe me at first and stare at me in disbelief as if I am going to watch my dog drown right before my eyes!  Come on people – really???   Do you think I would do that? 

I don’t know when it started, I think at the beginning of time for Brodie, when he first entered the water in a very controlled environment…our neighbor’s swimming pool.  He loved retrieving the ball but when we put the ball away and he had nothing left to retrieve, he started retrieving himself by the collar.  Now it’s some sort of OCD response the minute he jumps in the water, he starts fidgeting around for his collar.  If he can’t reach the tag on the first couple of tries, he just treads water and keeps trying.  He is a STRONG swimmer and I have no doubt could tread water for 10 – 20 minutes or more if needed. 

On average it takes him 1-2 minutes to grab his tag from his collar and get underway for his swim.  Sometimes, as in any bell curve, it takes him a little longer.  I just wait it out; I know that as soon as he finds it we are on our way.  It makes no sense to yell at him, or give him other commands – he doesn’t hear anything, his OCD is focused on getting the tag from his collar.  No matter, people who witness this freak out within the first 2 seconds; yelling at him sometimes yelling at me. 

It always goes the same:

Strangers: see statements above

Me: (smug tone) he’ll be fine in a minute, wait it out.

Strangers: see statements above, only LOUDER

Me: he wants to catch his collar

Me: he’ll catch himself any second now….

Brodie: I got it mom – & swims away!  (that is what I believe he would say if he could talk) 

Strangers: silence; mouth-gaping-open-staring when he finds his collar and swims on his merry way   

I really wouldn’t let my dog drown and I have no reason to try to correct this behavior.  It isn’t causing him harm in any way that I can discern.  He has no other serious behavioral issues (serious being the operative word).  Why try to change this? 

The only lingering question you could have at this point is…why do we call it the seahorse?  Well, when you see it, all you see is his head above water and his front paws stirring up the water.  I believe he is trying to whip his collar around by moving the water around him along with his neck.  While I am aware seahorses do not have arms, paws or any other appendages – they do use their necks to move themselves from point to point.  Somehow this made sense at the time and the phrase stuck (credit to Louise!). 

If you should see the big chocolate seahorse on the Delta or any other open body or water – please DO NOT PANIC.  Don’t yell at me, don’t jump in after him, just give it a minute, watch the show, and laugh when he swims away! 

Swimming away

Today is Monday, that means Brodie and I take a 3.5 – 4 mile run. We keep our course mostly the same and enjoy a run out and back from our house. Every once and a while something exciting happens. Today, the sprinklers were ON at our turn around park! He was so happy, he laid down on the grass, consumed what I am sure was non-potable water, but had a blast running through the water and rolling on the lawn.

The path we take is partially on city streets but mostly a bike trail. I like the trail because I don’t have to worry about cars. As a runner, being hit by a car is a fear. The trail affords us safety and some running luxuries, like limited leash use. When we get to our ‘turn around park’ we do a few laps around the park on their decomposed granite path. I usually let Brodie off leash at this park. No, it isn’t ‘allowed’ but if the park is empty and I have voice control over my dog – there is no harm done. I certainly don’t recommend this for people who don’t have voice control over their dogs, but not having to manage to his leash for a mile or two is nice. I can focus on myself, my running form, and my run for a bit while he goes wild at a park.

There is an unspoken language between Brodie and me while at the park. Sometimes hand signals are all he needs to know that we are going to do one more lap, come here, leave a squirrel alone (he’ll never actually catch it anyway), or leave trash or food alone. Often I signal to him that I’m done with laps, and we are going to exit the park and get back on the trail. Just recently I’ve let Brodie finish more of the run home sans leash. He is tired, he stays close, he doesn’t approach people or other dogs, and quite simply it’s easier for me. Once we get to the street, we leash-up, and obey all traffic laws until we get home.

Time to head home!

Brodie is spoiled. That alone is its own paragraph, but of course further explanation is required. He belonged to a toy of the month club for the first 3 years of his life, I finally put a stop to it when I realized that the toys were surviving and he had amassed such a collection that I should be embarrassed (I was, embarrassed). However, in the spirit of the holidays I wanted to get him a present. Not that he understands holidays, or Santa, or any of it – but it meant something to me to get him a Christmas present. Upon shopping at Costco (we all know Santa shops at Costco), this lovely 3-pack of dinosaurs (with Chew Guard) made it into our household:

Things seemed to be going well; he liked the purple one and even brought over his Turtle Tuff Toy to get the introductions going with the rest of the toy gang. I assumed this was some sort of toy initiation ritual created by Brodie when someone new needs to be introduced to the pack.

Sorry, that pic is a bit fuzzy

Eventually he settled in and seemed to like the toys Santa found for him at the local Costco. He spent an unseasonably warm afternoon running in and out of the house, taking his new dinosaur on the grand tour of our home and yard. I thought this toy might be his new favorite.

Within a day things went horribly wrong…Brodie had been in the yard for some time and came in with a nose full of dirt.

I love how he looks nonchalant about the whole thing – I imagine the thoughts in his mind something like this: “what are you looking at?”, “there isn’t anything to see here” – “what? NO, there isn’t anything on my nose”.

Ironically, the purple dinosaur is missing. Hmmmmm…I’m no detective, but I can make the leap that dinosaur is buried some place in the yard. I wonder exactly what he did to piss Brodie off so badly that it warranted being buried? What went awry in the new toy initiation process? I’ll likely never know the answer to those questions, only Brodie knows.

The dinosaur did resurface over the weekend, and looks pretty decent for surviving a few days underground. Brodie brought him back into the house as if nothing was wrong – except for my screaming “get that filthy thing out of my house”

A quick trip through the washing machine should remedy what ails him. Question is: after the dinosaur survived the intense initiation can he now join the long standing Brodie Brown Toy Gang? – Or will he forever be shunned?

The summer of 2013 has been ridiculously busy – for all three of us; 2 humans and 1 Labrador. We have spent every weekend since June in full-fun mode: spending weekends on our house boat, traveling, swimming, camping, etc… it’s been non-stop. There is one chore at the conclusion of the weekend that is being executed, but failing – the bath of the Labrador.

Brodie has been fortunate enough to spend nearly every weekend in the open water, swimming his heart out: rivers, lakes, streams – he is all in. Mostly open body water swimming for my busy baby. This boy LOVES to swim, I can’t express that with words in a way that would truly convey his obsession. He knows by the things we pack in the truck that we are leaving for the houseboat. He gets himself into the backseat and sits impatiently waiting for us to leave – he knows what awaits him – WATER!!! Upon arriving at the boat he has learn over time that he must wait while we unpack, get things cleaned and organized, and settle into our routine. Once he is told “Okay” – he is in the water – traveling at the speed of light to the back deck and straight into the river

He swims, swims, swims, and then swims some more.

This goes on for days…..

When we get home, the unpacking & weekend cleanup commences. He is usually exhausted and sleeping away the weekend while we do all the heavy lifting. Once our human chores are done, it’s time to bathe the dog. Simply put – he stinks. Stinks in a super-awful way which is highly offensive to your sense of smell. You have never seen a dog so resistant to a bath. It can’t be the water, he LOVES the water. It must be the soap, he must hate the soap!

I am unforgiving about his resistance to baths; if I have to smell you, you are going to be clean. He is scrubbed with doggie shampoo, lathered, rinse & repeat.

Unfortunately – the next day – HE STINKS!

The first few times I thought, maybe I didn’t soap him enough? Why is the stink coming back? What is wrong with this dog that he stinks so badly?

And after the pattern developed; every time he was bathed, he stunk the next day – I did something about it – I took him to the Vet. When I booked the appointment I actually told them “Brodie stinks” so something must be wrong with him! This next part, it true, I swear. I looked the Vet in the eye and said my dog stinks, and explained that baths seem to only last a day – could he have an underlying infection, something in a ear, with a tooth, something? I had the Vet approach my dog with a fine tooth comb. At one point we were both on the ground – eye level with Brodie – sniffing him up and down to see if we could find a source. No luck – she acknowledged he was stinky, but offered no medical cause nor remediation. So I paid for the office visit and went on our way. I am sure the Vet laughed about the crazy woman who made her sniff her dog in the lunch room later. But I’ve never given a s&^t what people think about me.

No root cause, how do I solve for this problem if I don’t know what is causing it? I guess old-fashion trial and error.

I have purchase special ‘deodorizing shampoo’ from our chain pet store, I also have purchase large quantities of Febreeze. NOT that I can spray Brodie with Febreeze, but I can make sure the things he sleeps on are either laundered or sprayed down regularly. It was also recommended (by a friend, not the Vet) to bath him with her ‘skunk spray concoction’ of hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and a small dab of Dawn dish soap. I have three new things to try…my nose hopes one of them works!

Next steps…trial and error!

On the flip side; Brodie doesn’t give a s&^t what people think about him and his stinky self either!