Here, have a new puppy video. Watch Henry play with the kids, and be educated about dinosaurs by Quinn at the same time.
The puppy had his five-week checkup and first deworming yesterday. He’s doing just fine. His name on the AKC paperwork will be Uther, but we’re going to call him Henry around the house. As you can see, he has discovered stuffed animals, and the little pink pig is his favorite so far.
Don’t be deceived by the tranquil scene in the picture. He fell asleep while mauling his little pink pal.
You leave the house with the kids to do a grocery run. Before you leave, you lock up the dogs, except for the mommy dog and her puppy upstairs.
You lay out a newspaper by the door just in case the mommy dog has to answer the call of nature while you are out. As additional mess insurance, you also put down a puppy piddle pad nearby.
When you come home, where will you find a big lake of doggy pee?
a.) On the newspaper
b.) On the piddle pad
c.) On the floor between the aforementioned objects
If you answered c.), give yourself a pat on the back. For bonus credit, you can also mention the poop right in front of the door, not two feet away from the unsullied newspaper.
Look who opened his eyes today:
Yeah, he looks a wee bit cross-eyed in that picture, but give the little guy a break. He’s just now starting to figure out this “vision” thing, and trialing new equipment always comes with initial operator errors.
His name is Uther, by the way. Thanks for all the suggestions!
The puppy is nine days old today. In that time, he has managed to almost triple his birth weight, from 8.5 ounces last Tuesday to to 22.5 ounces today. He is one chubby little thing. I’m thinking low-carb diet, or he’ll never be trim enough for those dog food commercials.
Now he just needs a name. The naming conventions of his line gravitate toward Arthurian names, but we’ve already used Arthur, Bors, Ban, and Lancelot for previous dogs. Mordred is pretty much right out. Any suggestions from the Internets? Bonus points if it can be shortened into a nickname—this is just for his kennel name in the AKC papers.
So yeah, about the last few days:
- Quinn turned 7 yesterday. Parental schedules being what they are, we had an early birthday party for him on Saturday. We had eight kids and as many adults in the house, and it was pretty lively. There was chili, cake, liquor, and those awesome little cocktail sausages that someone slathered with a home-brewed BBQ sauce which turned the little things into CRACK. Then one of our friends and her three kids stayed for a sleepover, so festivities were not really concluded until noon the next day as far as the kids were concerned.
- Yesterday we took our female dachshund in for her planned c-section. We bred her again because we still don’t have the girl out of her that we wanted so we could continue her mother’s line. OF COURSE the c-section yielded…two males.
- Last night wasn’t so hot. I had to stay up and check on the mom and pups every 15 minutes or so. I fell asleep around 2am. Robin got up just after 4am to discover that one of the pups had died. Now Raven is down to a single-pup litter, and we’re hoping he’ll make it. He’s active and nursing like a champ, so chances are good, but they’re not really out of the rough until they’re a few days old at least. He’s a very pretty color, deep red mahogany like his sire. I predict we’ll end up retiring Raven from breeding, keeping the male, and then buying a female to breed him to when the time comes. So this breeding didn’t go as well as we had hoped, to put it mildly, but we’ll make the best of it.
- The wife and kids are coming down with something, possibly acquired when the house was packed with adults and kids on Saturday. That means I’ll be getting it too sooner or later.
So that was my exciting weekend that sort of dragged all the way into Wednesday and shows no signs of ending. I could stand about a week away from Daddy duties at this point, maybe drive down to Key West and pound down some Mojitos at the beach or something. Alas, I’m never off the clock here. At least I can do the mojito thing.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a garage to clean up and some furniture to reshuffle for tomorrow’s refinancing home appraisal. Then I have to start the sausage & kale soup for dinner, and possibly collapse on the couch and sleep for eighteen hours straight.
This is Ban. He will be ten years old this year. Ban was a one-pup litter back in 2002, and even though we needed a girl, we kept him just because he was the only puppy from that breeding.
Ban is a sweet dog, very loving and eager to please. He just has one annoying habit—he barks at everything. If there’s a truck driving by on the road 200 feet away, he’ll bark. If there’s someone walking past the property on the way to the pond, he’ll bark. If there’s unfamiliar dialogue on TV in the next room, he’ll bark. And he absolutely, positively cannot run outside without winding up that bark while someone opens the door for him, and then sounding the fanfare as he runs outside through the covered porch. Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.
Now, as I mentioned, he’s a really sweet dog, if a little high-strung, so I’ve put up with that habit of his for ten years now. But if we ever get unwanted nighttime visitors intent on redistributing the valuables in our house, I am almost convinced that this dog will sleep through the whole thing.