March 25, 2011
Red or Green
Elf and and the human passed a stupefyingly boring fall and winter -- if you ask her. Deprived by short days and cold weather of her customary daily couple of hours of outdoor sport with the warmth loving human, she busied herself ripping out carpet fiber when she thought nobody was listening. One November day two doorways in the hall looked like whoever made the carpets had dropped a lot of stitches.
Retribution was swift -- beneath Elf’s quivering black nose the human carefully poured lines of incendiary chili powder in red and green around the ripped spots. Undeterred by what she’d observed, the pup flung herself back into her work the moment the human retreated. But where was the familiar r-i-i-i-p-p-p sound? Camera in hand, the human crept up on her -- spinning around on a nearby carpet as though her nose were the point of a compass. Occasionally she would pause to sneeze and snort, roll onto the other side and describe further circles with her long body. Her eyes grew red-rimmed, her enormous ears drooped.
So ended that particular Experimental Indoor Entertainment she’d devised. For weeks afterward the mere sight of a bag of chili powder sent her flying.
Digging Up the Bathtub
Next, she turned her energy to the less supervised back yard, to which she had gained full access when a small dog door was installed in October. She’d had a few growth spurts after the last time she attempted to leap up into the old bathtub that’s enjoying a second life as a planter. How pleased she was one evening to discover that increased body length more than made up for a corgi’s short legs! Up she lofted.
The results of the surreptitious bathtub visit were discovered by the human the next day -- newly planted iris, day lilies and creeping rosemary all torn out, parts chewed to bits, deep mulch flung to the winds, substantial holes created in the soil filling the tub. Unsatisfied with that, the perpetrator had leapt down, danced across the yard, sprung up and into another raised planter -- from which her busy front paws had scooped the earth with enough force to shoot it over the edge -- several feet out onto the ground behind the planter.
It was a lucky thing for the human's overall health that by the time these ravages were discovered sufficient time had elapsed to inform her that Elf had not suffered serious reactions -- like, oh, death -- from chewing up day lily bulbs. Some dogs can be rather allergic to those.
As Elf eagerly watched, the scowling human carefully cut away damaged sections of the plants, put them back in the soil, covered them with mulch, and set an extension ladder lengthwise atop the old cast iron tub.
Another Experimental Entertainment squelched!
Elf Pays the Price for Her Antics
Elf’s young life took a sudden bad turn after the bathtub leaping and digging. A limp on her right front leg began in January, to be augmented soon after by a limp on the left front leg. X-rays eventually revealed the problem to be elbow dysplasia, a congenital defect that can affect short legged dogs with curved forelimbs. Bassets, corgis, dachshunds.
Fortunate it is that the vet is “comfortable treating Elf’s dysplasia medically rather than surgically.” Fortunate because Elf’s human herself had osteotomies as a child similar to what some dysplastic dogs undergo, found them highly horrible, and would not inflict such intense pain on a creature unless absolutely unavoidable.
So the medical treatment -- lifelong daily doses of glucosamine and Ester-C, plus anti inflammatories during flareups -- gave the recuperating pooch a new game. Chase the yummy crunchy pills the human tosses, chomp them a bit, fling them a bit and chew the heck out of ‘em till they’re all gone! Which all means it took a while, but Elf proved more interested in the sport potential of glucosamine and Ester-C tablets than in the bacon and liver flavors.
Chewing drives thwarted first by a disapproving human companion, then by pain and the necessity of a few weeks of “canine bed rest”, Elf resigned herself philosophically to working her way -- with ever increasing speed -- through two large sacks of big dog rawhide chews. Big as in suitable for a 90 pound German Shepherd, rather than a 30 pound Pembroke Welsh Corgi.
Ready to Spring Again!
These things did not occur without rebellion. Elf had to be moved from puppy chow to adult kibble, and declined to ... uh ... chew quietly into the good night. She staged a hunger strike for two weeks. About the time the human began to wonder if she was doomed to feed the dog twice a day by tossing one bit of kibble at a time for the dog to chase, the thought of adding a little non-fat chicken broth to the bowl of kibble occurred. Happy day, end of hunger strike!
Also along came Spring, warmer weather, with added fun time for human and pooch outside! To let the world know how joyous she is at these happy changes in Mother Nature, she’s stepped up her daily shredding of enormous rawhide “bones” from one to two, and learned to snap pretty little butterflies right out of the air on the first try. She's working on her Fearsome Bark, to warn off the bold Jack Russell Terrier who trots by twice a day in company with his human and a friendly Husky. She thinks her best kept secret was finding the perfect hidden corner in the yard to bring purloined rolls of toilet paper for slow, enjoyable tearing to shreds.
Most plants in the tub survived
