Category Archives: Pups

April Shit Showers

Well, what can I say, April turned out to be a shit month. It started off that my deal, which was slated to close four days in, had to get pushed back, bc the sellers had trouble getting their “occupant” out of the property. Yup, he just kept blowing through deadlines, insisting that he had no place to go and no where to store his stuff. On one hand, I really felt for the guy. It reminded me that there really are huge swaths of the population where people are falling through the cracks for various reasons— health issues, addiction, abuse, what have you… On the other hand, the sellers had been letting the guy live in their house rent free for a number of years, and they always told him that one day, they would need to sell to help out their own family. It seems that he had at least some months to hatch a plan…

As all of that was happening, I learned that my childhood friend T was on the verge of eviction and homelessness. It’s a long story and we go way back to the second grade. We had lost touch in the mid-2000s and then last Christmas I saw her again. Her story is one of life’s many tragedies and it also highlights what happens when parents are fucking irresponsible with planning their eldercare. Seriously, if you’re not going to put shit into place in terms of financial planning and instructions, you don’t deserve to be parents! And of course, her brother is like my brother. Not a care in the world. Basically, he said he’ll go back for the funeral but can’t be bothered until then. As all of this weighed in my mind, I encountered a third scenario where someone was scraping by and preparing to live out of his car.

In the end, the occupant did finally leave after we extended the deadline. My hope is that he will take action and use the resources that are available to turn things around. Needless to say, the transaction was difficult to celebrate.

Other parts of work started picking up. The list agent with whom I frequently collaborate began getting all kinds of activity in his pipeline, and he called on me to assist. I was thrilled.

Then, Bentley fell very, very ill. He was lethargic, stopped getting up, stopped eating, was panting and drooling crazy. In one week, we made four trips to the emergency room, ran a shit ton of tests (blood work, ultrasound, xrays, joint taps), and things continued to get so bad that he yelped in pain when touched and he couldn’t open his mouth all the way. WTF was happening? I mean, he went from walking slowly/gingerly at home on Saturday night to getting hospitalized by Wednesday. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong. All the while, he was declining, had crazy fevers, had to get IV fluids, anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, pain killers… he got put on a feeding tube and had an oxygen mask. I was losing my shit and then I had a seminar partnering with a financial advisor, and my parents were coming to town. It was the most stressful time of my life.

The day I gave my presentation/seminar, Bentley got hospitalized. For what we thought would just be overnight on fluids, turned into five days. Then two days after getting discharged and looking better, we were back in the ER– this time at the specialist bc our general vet told us they had gotten to the end of what they could do. Then, two more nights hospitalized with the specialist and all the while, “regular” appointments are booked weeks in advance so every trip is an emergency where the doctors are trauma/ER docs NOT internal medicine docs. Meanwhile, bc his situation spanned so many days, the doctors kept changing/swapping out every few days due to their work schedule.

By the time we got to the specialists, the general vet had already suspected IMPA (Immune-mediated polyarthritis). At the specialist, we did an MRI, spinal tap, and additional joint taps. Those results ruled out meningitis and confirmed IMPA but also, the imaging showed major inflammation in his head, face, and neck– the diagnosis with that was a SECOND auto-immune disease called immune-mediated polymyositis. Essentially, Bentley had two diseases where his body was attacking itself– in all the joints as well as in the muscles, which explains the level of pain he was in.

On one hand, what a relief to have some answers. The treatment in both instances is steroids + immunosuppressives. Of course, both those meds have crazy side-effects, but for now, we had to get this whole-body inflammation under control. Even after he was discharged from the specialists on a Friday AM, he had what seemed to be cyclical fevers and then face pain recurring over the weekend. Again, back to the ER on Sunday night for a fentanyl patch to tide us over until my internal medicine specialist returned to the office on Tuesday.

On Monday morning, I started calling the general vet AND the specialty center in despair, crying to have SOMEone advise on how to reduce his pain if it escalates again. My general called me back and said the concurrent auto-immune diseases is rare and very serious. She can only defer to the specialist at this point bc it’s such an unusual case. Then, after sobbing to a vet tech at the specialty group, a different internal med doctor on staff that day called to tell me she saw Bentley the week prior when he was hospitalized. She’s only seen a few cases with the double whammy, but for sure, the first week on treatment is very up and down bc the body is just so overwhelmed. I was a total mess with her on the phone. He’s just not getting better. But she said to give it more time. We are less than a week from starting the treatment. We’re “not there yet,” she said. When we get there, we will tell you.

On Tuesday, his doc called all annoyed that my general vet had emailed her and there were numerous voicemails while she was out. I mean, what do you expect. You discharge him Friday AM, you call Saturday and he looks good, and then shit goes down Sunday and he is crying in pain again. I’m going to call every goddamn lead I have to get some freaking medical attention. Needless to say, we saw her two days later on Thursday for follow up. That place is oftentimes a clusterfuck. The tech says they’ll take vitals and blood. I say I want to talk to the doctor first before the bloodwork. Tech says doctor wants to test blood. Fine. They take the blood. Then, we see her in the exam room and she says she might not need to take blood…. WTF? His WBC count is still high– higher than 10 days prior at the general vet. But symptom-wise he is better. She palpates and feels around. Joints seem ok. Still sensitivity with the neck and mouth. We decide to continue the current treatment plan and talk about options if he stagnates or if the situation worsens…

Goodbye Cash Cow

At the start of this year, I had set a goal to grow my dog sitting/boarding side gig. You see, from the time I started taking doggie clients, my business had doubled from year 1 to year 2. And I was thinking an extra several grand would come in handy for some expenses associated with my full time job. As it turns out, I started ramping up activities with my real estate business which meant I was not home to dog sit, esp new clients that had to be introduced and monitored with Bentley. Bubbey started getting annoyed having to coordinate schedules, and so I decided to just stick to existing clients. So things were going well with my cash cow doggie– a client from the very beginning who came regularly for both daycare and boarding– until a few months ago, she had diarrhea all over John’s office. We figured she was just randomly sick (no explanation as to why), so we told the owner and she paid for the steam cleaning. Well, a few weeks ago, the accident happened again. And since I wasn’t home to clean up the bodily fluids, John– who is queasy about that stuff– lost his shit.

I was in the middle of handling a bunch of things for work and that was the last straw. That’s right, I had to shut down the doggie biz. Bubs wasn’t about to babysit the critters while I was out, and he def wasn’t going to handle accidents inside the house. And just like that, I had to say goodbye to my cash cow.

I suppose the silver lining in all this is that now I can focus even more energy and attention on my real estate biz. Haha, I know, you didn’t think it was possible! I suppose in the grand scheme of things, picking up another buyer/seller will definitely yield higher results than picking up another doggie client. Sigh. Changes had to be made.

Spring Recap

Holy shit, it’s been another several weeks since my last post. Honestly, who can keep up with time? He’s such a fleeting bitch!! So let’s see, quick recap: My deal closed last month and for two weeks I tried to schedule a meetup with my people. You know, after the transaction, you have to do the push– asking for referrals and recommendations. Apparently, that’s the cycle, according to the trainers/coaches. As it turned out, every damn time I called/texted, my family was too busy. So fine, one day I just pulled the “pop over” technique. I texted that I was in the area (which was true) and I would be by in ten minutes. Done.

I showed up and thankfully they were all home, including one of the sons who barely even acknowledged my presence. I mean, I get being intense about your work (hello UTI!). I get being in the zone, but Jesus, I walked into the kitchen where he was reading something on his laptop at the kitchen island, and he barely lifted his eyes to say hello. No, no, please. Don’t bother to get up out of your seat either! SMH.

Thankfully, I get along great with the mom, and she and the hubby showed me some of the progress around the house. I gave them the gifts with some explanation (I did a combo of items), and the mom commented on my thoughtfulness (yay!). Then at the very end, I went in awkwardly for the ask (mind you, all of this is in Chinese, so I’m not as eloquent as I am normally… haha!). She and the hubby just stood there and stared at me all confused, like, “What is a recommendation letter?” Who is it for and what do we write? Yeah, so to make the odd situation even more uncomfortable, I had to explain how it’s a document where they share their experience working with me and then I use it to show other people who are considering working with me.

I mean, I should have anticipated all this: I had mentioned the rec letter to my dad a few weeks earlier, saying I was going to be making the ask to my clients and he was super quiet about it. Is it a cultural thing? That’s what’s kinda frustrating about my parents being immigrants. I mean, it’s like, I have all the disadvantages of them being culturally illterate about assimilating into American culture and life yet, at the same time, they are totally NOT helpful for Chinese stuff bc they have been out of THAT culture for so long too, you know? So they’re basically useless in the career advancement arena. Anyway, as I’m explaining to my clients, they’re pretty much like, “We don’t know what to say or how these things are written…” Yes, beforehand, I had thought about providing a sample, but I couldn’t find any on the Chinese agents’ websites. Argh. So in the end, my clients just said, “You write what you want and we’ll sign off.” Yup, seriously. Getting compliments is like pulling teeth. So Chinese, right?

In their defense, I suppose the stress of writing a review/rec is not totally unheard of… Some agents in my office say they have staff reach out to clients and provide a bulleted list of things to mention in their testimonial… I dunno. The whole thing is just bizarro. And then I left. Shrug.

In other news, Bentley is fully recovered now post-surgery. I mean, I’m totally clueless about medical shit. I read all the pre- and post-op instructions but honestly, I’ve already forgotten what exactly the neutering entails. Was it a vasectomy? Was it the removal of his testes? All I know is that he came home, and I was totally surprised and disappointed to see his sack still in tact. There was a 1-inch incision at the base of his shaft. Sorry, I don’t want to use too many terms that might suggest via search terms that my post is pornographic in nature… Initially, it appeared to be healing great, scabbing over and all. Then, just as I thought we were out of the woods, it started oozing and looking gross. I tried to put neosporin on the incision, and he went bonkers again. Thankfully, it all just healed over time by itself. I asked Nathalie about the situation… I mean, I was totally expecting him to be eunuch. She said with full blown adult males, there might be some shrinkage but pretty much, that’s just part of the deal. If dogs are neutered much younger, things shrivel up and go away. Not in my case. Ugh. So I mean, it’s not the end of the word, but clearly, I’m a bit immature and squeamish about the dangling bits. I can’t help it: that shit is obnoxious and unsightly, esp for a 70-lb dog. And when I brush him with the slicker brush, I always have to be careful not to prick him. Oh well, I suppose I should just be happy the job is done and he’s healed.

His personality is also starting to shine more. He’s becoming more confident. I’m not sure if it’s the operation or him just passing the 3-month milestone with us. Thankfully, he is hiding a lot less and everybody is getting along. Buster was over for a few days last week. This week, Carla is here. I do love having our very own pooch again.

The Finish Line

Yay, my latest transaction got across this finish line this week! What a journey! Overall, I was super happy with how everything rolled out. All parties are satisfied and really, everyone was respectful and professional throughout– I’m so grateful for good people on all sides.

I have to say though, it was pretty hard getting to know my clients. They were super private and tight-lipped. Eventually, I did glean some additional information. To be honest, it’s been somewhat of an emotional roller coaster for me being you know, Chinese-American with immigrant parents, and guiding this family with whom I share similar parallels. Sure, the parent-child relationship is universally a difficult one, but there’s just something about Chinese families that make them unique and obviously, more personal for me. It’s an interesting scenario, bc my experience serves as my advantage and allows me to service this niche well and yet, being in the midst of it all still triggers some stressful memories, you know? Whatever, though. That’s life: it’s complicated.

In the end, the most important thing is that my clients are delighted with the house. And they are. I mean, as happy as they can express. 🙂 I plan to stop by next week with my closing gifts and also my requests for recommendations and referrals. That’s right, I am already targeting my next deal(s). Gotta get ’em in before my 1-year anniversary at this office in June.

What else. Bentley got neutered on Wednesday– yup, the same day as closing. I had spoken with the vet tech weeks in advance about his vet phobia and fear aggression, so we took him in to the clinic wearing his muzzle. He looked like Hannibal Lecter, and as soon as we entered the waiting room, everyone got super tense. We stayed a few minutes longer, while they took him back to make sure they could get the initial sub-cutaneous injection in. They came out a few minutes later and made some comment like, yes, he def has fear aggression and touch sensitivity.

At the end of the day, I went to pick him up, and after asking the front desk some questions, the staff revealed that Bentley escalated big time and got out of his muzzle! No one got injured but it was a close call. OMFG. I’m telling you: this special needs shit is stressful. So now I’ve reached out to a few trainers to get this shit under control. Sure, one solution is to just never have him go to the vet. But that’s neither a practical nor realistic solution. GSDs are super-prone to health problems, so at some point, he’s gotta work through this. I’m trying to see this from a positive perspective: like maybe doggie training can be a new hobby where I can also meet new people, i.e. potential clients? I dunno. The experts say Bentley isn’t a lost cause: after all, he lets me touch him, clip his nails, mess with his mouth, touch his ears…. all of that shows he can trust people. It’ll just take time to build enough trust and to train him to relearn how he responds.

The Feet Tell It All

So I treated myself to a pedicure today. I haven’t gotten one in a salon in probably a year. It’s one of those things, like getting my hair cut: whenever I think to do it, it’s in the middle of the night and the salons are closed. When the places are open, I don’t have a reservation and can’t be bothered to wait. I know, I’m that self important, right?

My job entails a lot of taking my shoes on and off, entering staged homes, decrepit homes, and everything in between. I really try to keep my toes somewhat presentable but some days, it’s just all about good enough. That means, yes, oftentimes I just repaint over my existing polish. So today the nail tech is like removing the old polish, and she’s uncovering multiple layers of old polish beneath bc they are all different colors… SMH. I know, it’s embarrassing. Hey though, be glad I’m not using Sharpie markers like I did before.

I started my session ordering the basic pedi. But bc I wear shoes without socks, my heels are literally rough and scratchy with flaking skin. I know, pretty darn nasty. The lady suggested callous removal. Her comment didn’t shame me or anything, but I quickly agreed to upgrade to a spa pedi. I mean, either she cleans me up or I gotta go home and put the foot filer gadget to that scratch pad, and at this point, just get ‘er done.

The thing is, my feet are like the canary in the coal mine. They are an indicator for something far worse. For example, in the last several months, my skin had continued on its rampage to hell, with humongous boils throbbing on my chin. That k-beauty stuff, as much as I had placed my faith into it, was not helping. I mean, yes, they softened the cheeks but it was fucking Mt. Fuji everywhere else on my face! I dunno what I was expecting: I had been eating a bunch of fried foods and frozen foods; I wasn’t getting any sleep; I was skipping meals left and right… I mean, I was basically neglecting and abusing my body (for MONTHS/years) and already, it wasn’t a strong system to start with…

After I went into contract on this latest real estate deal and the deposit went into escrow, my body finally crashed. I got a few days’ worth of sleep. And the damn boils finally started calming the fuck down. John and I have also recently started drinking a breakfast probiotic shake, something I’d read about via a fashion blogger I follow… it’s crazy but as soon as we started on the program, John’s has gone to the gym every damn day. And we seem to feel better. I even went back to the hot yoga studio, for the first time in probably two years. I mean, I dunno if probiotics get all the credit on that one. Like I always say, “nothing like an expiring Groupon to kick my ass into gear.” Haha.

In other news, Bentley seems to be settling in. I think the pheromone room plug-in that my friend suggested is helping him feel safe and more confident. He is also eating more regularly. Strangely enough, I don’t think he’ll ever be one of those dogs who scarfs down his food, (WTF?!?!?), but he is showing improvement. We are taking him on a road trip to Santa Barbara later this month before he has to get neutered. Fingers crossed that he’ll do ok going into a clinic environment again. Honestly, I’m a bit worried about it, and John has already suggested NOT getting him neutered at all but… this shit’s happening.

Revelations

Earlier this month, after working with Bentley on his fear (he’s been hiding under the bed anytime he suspects an ear treatment or something similar is up my sleeve), I had to take him back to the vet for the second booster shot of the canine flu vaccine. I decided to fly solo on this mission bc Bubs was out of town and in anticipation of a bad experience, I figured it would be better to associate this with just one owner rather than both. He entered the lobby and exam room just fine. It was a different vet team that day and having gotten the memo, they asked me to put on a basket muzzle, which he let me do. But then he started getting worked up again. They couldn’t give him the shot bc he kept thrashing around. Ultimately, two other techs came in and had to pin him down. It was an overwhelmingly emotional sense of helplessness and despair. Why is he doing this? The panting, the thrashing, the barking… immediately afterwards, they let me remove the muzzle and he willingly took treats from their hands. But I was… I dunno how to describe exactly… but a little afraid but mostly just out of ideas on what was happening and how this was going to be a resolvable issue. I started crying and the staff tried to comfort me by saying that he wasn’t trying to harm anyone: he was just scared. Yeah, but why is he so scared? It just didn’t make sense. Is he crazy? They said he wasn’t trying to bite them; he was more bark than anything. It was like they were trying to console and convince me that he didn’t have bad intentions.

It was a bizarre experience. Afterwards, my thighs were all scratched and bruised. I had been wearing a dress and boots. I didn’t even feel the marks he had left in the moments of going ballistic. But I thought to myself: this must be what it feels like to have a special needs child– one where you don’t understand and you can’t communicate. But just in a matter of seconds he goes from calm and fine to 100% unrecognizable. I thought of our nephew C and how as he got older, the mounting frustrations of not being able to communicate, manifested as violent and sometimes destructive outbursts and behaviors. I thought about how scary it must have been for his parents. And I kept thinking to myself: what am I gonna do with this?

The staff gave me pamphlets and brochures on fear aggression and training and desensitization. I had read up on that previously. I mean, was the answer to keep taking him to the vet for treats? Build a relationship with one vet and one team? It all seemed so unreliable. Is he not supposed to get regular checkups and treatment? I mean, shepherds are notorious for health issues… he will NEED to get medical treatment throughout his lifetime. I went home exhausted and defeated.

Later that day, I spoke with my friend N, the vet. She said you know, there are meds you can give him to take the edge off. I dunno what I was thinking, but that option hadn’t even entered my brain. Well, duh. Yes, I will need to take that route. Is it a shortcut? Probably but you know what? I don’t know that I’m that convinced on building a relationship with a singular vet. I mean, that seems like a major time sink with not enough flexibility. What if she leaves the practice or isn’t on call the day we go? The reminder of a drug option gave me some comfort.

Oddly enough, later that same day, his previous owner texted me. How are things going, etc. I texted that he went ballistic again at the vets. Any insights? No. He never liked the vet or shots, but he never displayed fear aggression. Hmm. Then, lots of back and forth: she sent me his baby pics. Then, a picture of him wearing a cone collar.

That’s weird. What was that for? I’ve only seen those used for post-surgery. Oh when Bentley was living with my ex, he went missing for a few days and was found with a broken leg. It required surgery, he has a pin in his leg, and he was in confinement at the vet for more than two weeks. Ummm, yeah. That MIGHT just constitute a traumatic event, don’t you think?

I mean, I’m a gullible person, so I never think that people are concealing information from me. But Bubs adds that since we got him, it’s just been one extra tidbit after another that doesn’t quite jive. For example, he was listed as 2 y/o on the website. Turns out he’s 4.5 y/o. Then they gave us a bag of dry food. He wasn’t eating it at all. Turns out Mom made homecooked food for him. Then, no aggression issues/trauma and he actually broke his leg! I mean, dunno. Shit happens. There are a lot of details to relay to the new owners. And maybe for some people, these would have been dealbreaker issues that would have prohibited him from getting into a good home. I don’t honestly know. They aren’t dealbreakers for us, but certainly, we’re both engineers: we like to be thorough and comprehensive with our information, you know?

I still think she was a good owner who loved him very much. She tried her best to give him a safe and stable home. And I’m sure the surgery cost A TON, which is not easy for most families. J feels like they have lost credibility. I still choose to like them and honor them. After all, they gave us Bentley. And even with his issues, Bentley is a good boy and we feel lucky to have him.

Sick As A Dog

Well, I have now been sick for over a month. Fucking A! It all started at the turn of the year. Picked up the flu when I went to the doctor for my wellness exam and flu shot. Learning from my past lessons, I did not delay and contacted the doctor as soon as the symptoms came on. Went on Tamiflu. Then, at week 3, still had a lingering cough and still fatigued super easily. Called the advice line. Doctor prescribed five days of Zithromax antibiotics. Another week later (week 4, if you’re still keeping count), STILL coughing (dry cough) and still tired as fuck. Add in stuffy nose and sneezing fits. Yesterday, I called the doctor again. She insists that her constitution is like mine: she gets sick a LOT and for a long time each incidence. She thinks the cough is lingering bc now with the hot weather (yes, it’s been high 70s– unseasonably warm), our allergies are getting triggered, which makes recovery from the flu/cold take longer, plus the throat/nose are irritated. Ugh. It really is a pain in the ass getting tired every few hours. I know, this damn Year of the Dog has got me sick as a dog.

Meanwhile, my Peruvian posse visited last Saturday and left yesterday morning: this time 3 adults and 2 kiddos (4 y/o and 1 y/o). Due to work, which has been picking up like a mofo, I mostly just saw them for breakfast and dinner. Still, it was a good visit. I’ve hung with P’s youngest sister several times but this was the first time meeting the eldest, on her inaugural trip to the USA. They are super duper whirlwind travelers: In 15 days, they are doing SF, Vegas, and Disney/LA. All by car. Makes me tired just thinking about it.

Btw, I’m happy to report that our tiny houseboat has a sustainable carrying capacity for five adults, two kids, and one polar bear. I think I’ve finally got the Houseboat on a system where stuff is clean and things are relatively organized. My office/guest room is looking pretty good. Last year, I got storage cabinets and drawers for my work files so the paperwork is organized (mostly); the CB2 Lubi lounger is working out well as an expandable guest bed; and the room is really bright and colorful. My latest addition is a purple rug that I picked up for free two doors down. Who knows what it was used for previously, but my neighbor is a retired realtor who has a beautiful home, so I’m going to assume it wasn’t a shit-encrusted rug.

John also rearranged his desk recently so now his office is way bigger. We were able to fit a monster air mattress in there for my friend P. The babies were incredibly good. I mean, the 1 y/o is super active and gets into EVERYTHING. His poor mother is exhausted! Our home is not kiddie-proofed at all, so suddenly, all my remotes and coasters and decorative pieces ended up high up on the fireplace mantle. But those kids. SMH. They left the house for SF touristy activities and were out ALL DAMN DAY, like 12 hours?!?!?! I mean, not to be judgey but how come some kids can only last 2 hours max? Is it the kids or the parents? I dunno. But again, all of this just re-enforced how happy I am to NOT to be a human parent.

That said, Bentley is having his quirks. I tried to switch him to 100% dry food and he went on a hunger strike for days. WTF. I mean, it’s like a test of the wills over here, and it’s not pretty. Bubs made me cave after two days so I threw in my Rover dog’s canned food that was left with us. Argh. Fine, now I’ve ordered some canned to mix to go with the dry. Fucking picky eater. I was wanting the all dry food diet to keep his teeth clean… guess I have to pick and choose my battles with this special needs dog.

Also, he is still exhibiting trust issues after I had to do the ear flushes. He’ll let me do it still (now only weekly instead of daily) but he still tries to run away and he whimpers about it. Big baby. Then there was an incident where the 4 y/o was petting him and then she was going to brush him. He lied down all submissive and then suddenly barked and growled at her. I’m telling you, that’s going to be my biggest stressor– his unpredictability. Sure, he’s only been with us four weeks. Still. I mean, he’s at a size where he can really hurt someone, so after that, I am being hyper vigilant.

I mean, from what I’ve read, with fear aggression (vs. territory or possession or dominance aggression), he will try first to run and hide. The barking is also a signal to leave him alone. With other forms of aggression, the dog is more dominant and confident and will attack/provoke but… still. I just feel like I can’t let my guard down. I have to watch for his body language and signals. Thankfully, the girl was hardly even phazed. I was so surprised that neither she nor her 1 y/o brother were intimidated by Bentley’s size.

I’ve been reading up on dog training. That shit sure has changed in the last 15 years. Maybe it’s similar to how much parenting has changed: it’s all about desensitization + positive reinforcement for troublesome scenarios. No more training where you rule through fear.

Angel at Home, Devil with the Doctor

Well, it seems I may have issued a premature verdict on the Yeti. Sweet, gentle, and lovely at home and with my other Rover doggies. Then we went to the vet this past week. He was fine walking into the hospital, getting on the scale, etc. Then, we got into the room, the tech said hello briefly, and then as soon as the thermometer went into the butt, he got super startled and aggressive and panty. In total, we were there for an hour with people coming in and out. Eventually, we had to muzzle him and then they didn’t have the right fit… it was a disaster and a half. I mean, in all my years volunteering at shelters and being around dogs, I’ve never seen this level of aggression. Ok maybe a few times. But the Yeti is a strong mother-fucker. So we left and basically, nothing beyond listening to the heart was done. He let me swab his ears which have been smelly, so now we know he has a yeast infection in there.

We went home and I was frankly, emotionally destroyed. I mean, aggression is a tricky issue to handle. It’s not so much the specific scenario, but the unpredictability of it. Now maybe I should have noticed the signs: he was cowering, trying to get away to the corner of the room. He was fearful… so he was telling us he was scared. I dunno. It’s the tough love part inside me, where I’m not going to be inconvenienced with a dog who can’t handle being touched, you know? It sounds like a foolish, overly image conscious stance but I dunno. I just feel like the deal with a pet is this: I love you and give you a good life but you have to trust me enough to know I won’t hurt you. Granted, he’s only been with us for two weeks so maybe that trust bond was tested too soon. I don’t really know, but I guess part of the confusion surrounds him being previously owned. It’s not like I don’t know his history, right? He seemed totally well-loved and was acquired as a puppy, so where is this coming from?

The doc sent us home with ear flushes and drops, which have to be administered twice a day. So now I’m the bad guy at home and he runs off to hide under the bed. It’s neither funny nor cute, bc well, I take doggie meds very seriously and I’m not about to play this ridiculous game of chasing him down to do what’s good for him.

John says he doesn’t trust us now and we shouldn’t push him. I’m not going to coddle and baby the dog!! He has to get the treatment. Already, at three days, his ears are way better so after day 10, we can stop. See? This is why I could never be a human parent. I’m already like, “fuck you, you’re getting the shot/treatment. I don’t want to hear any crying about it.” I doubt this method works with any modern-day parent. And I don’t really know: it could make things with Bentley worse. With Remy and Martin, they were reluctant but eventually, they would just acquiesce and tolerate it. With Bentley, he’s much more stubborn and obviously, he’s bigger and stronger. The vet was visibly afraid when Bentley was acting up.

I think the other reason I got so down about this is because it’s just another case of you just never know. I mean, all those stories in the news about family dogs attacking their kids… I used to think those people were just oblivious or inexperienced or whatever. But I see now and actually, I’ve seen it elsewhere if I take a hard look. My vet friend– she had pit bulls growing up. Super sweet. Lived with cats. But there were multiple incidents where they tore into other dogs. There is that disconnect between what you yourself experience with them (they were so cuddly and friendly every time I saw them) and then what can happen in a split second. I had a neighbor once who said he and his girlfriend merged households and doggies. I’m not sure how long they were living together and then one day he came home and her boxer had killed his dog. So again, shit happens and you can never be totally sure. And that’s a new reminder/reality that I just have to keep in mind. I will not leave him alone unattended with my Rover clients. Carla the whippet goes into my office and then Bentley stays out.

But mainly, I’m just frustrated about the ear meds. I did all this reading on vet aggression after the incident. So many stories of dogs that are the gentlest, sweetest souls EXCEPT at the vet. One guy has it so strangers can touch the ears and paws and everything. No issues at all. Then, at the vet, a totally different beast.

On a separate note, you know my deal with buying meds/treatments through the vet. Again, I get it: they have a 24-hour brick and mortar facility. I’m willing to be some premium for their extra costs. And after that whole Bentley freak out ordeal, I just got whatever meds: flea/tick control, heartworm, ear flush, ear drops. I just wanted to get out of there pronto.

A few days later, I was just curious and checked online. For the same exact meds, vet was $120. Online was $85. Another one: vet was $120. Online was $100. Ear drops: $55 vs. $34. Come on, people. That is egregious. And I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, bc I saw this with Martin and his lactated ringers. The thing is, nowadays I have no hesitation having awkward conversations. I called up the pharmacist. Do you price match the online pet pharmacies? I know you have a facility and I’m ok to pay some premium, but like $100+ difference is a lot. She gave me some crap that bc the invoice was already charged, they can’t do a price adjustment but they can match prices in the future. So then I said, I haven’t opened the tablets. Can I return them then. Yes. So basically, I went in, returned, then re-bought. The lesson here? You HAVE to make the ask. Can you imagine how much people could save if they asked for the price match?

Of course, I took the opportunity to make the return visit a teaching moment for Bentley. We took him to the vet hospital again. He was totally fine: no anxiety in the front lobby, got on the weight scale, hung out. So the issue really is being in the room and feeling trapped then being approached by probing strangers. At least now we’ve narrowed the issue down some. Anyway, it’s a work in progress…

Like today. He’s already run under the bed a few times and I haven’t been able to do the ear flush or drops. I’m going to try again now. Wish me luck!

New Year Updates

In other news, Bentley is adjusting beautifully. To be honest, I’ve been super surprised by the ease of transition given that he’d previously been living outdoors for a year. The first day we brought him home (last Tuesday night), he had some spraying issues but just that first day. No other potty problems since, no destruction, no anxiety. We haven’t left him alone for extended periods– just a few hours here and there. He does this weird thing that I’d characterize as “self-soothing.” Yeah, do I run in yuppie circles or what? He just whimpers for a few seconds and then stops. Yes, we watch on cameras everywhere.

The downside to Bentley is that he is def XXL. A LOT of dog with tons of fur that is quite unmanageable and is literally floating around everywhere in my house now. It’s a tough situation for someone trying to keep her home “Airbnb ready.” Sigh, a compromise we have decided to make. Also, Mr. B is not neutered, so I gotta get that scheduled and done. But he is so very gentle and so eager to please. And I mean, not to throw Rems and Martin under the bus, but Mr. B is smart. Like at the level where if you don’t set boundaries and stay consistent with the training, he could potentially organize a coup de tat and take over control of the Houseboat. Just sayin’.

I think J really enjoys having a big protector breed. Bentley is really so big (70 lbs.) that I can’t imagine people will want to fuck with us anytime we’re out with him. Also, he is very systematic about patrolling the yard and keeping the rodents away. Critters have been hollowing out the oranges on Bubbey’s trees, so finally, we’ll get to enjoy the fruit.

What else. Many years later, I finally made the switch back to Verizon. I know, Bubs will tell you I dragged ass on it for an inordinate amount of time for no real good reason. I have to agree. As much as I admired the rebellious image/branding of T-Mobile, that shit just did not offer enough coverage. There were also some shady experiences with the company. So I’m back on Verizon. I made sure to return the cell booster to the store this time (and get a receipt and the rep’s name), so I wouldn’t be charged $410 for supposedly NOT shipping it back.

I started making calls again yesterday. While I was on my deathbed (with a sore throat and crap voice), I missed a number of calls. No messages were left, but using reverse lookups and callerID, I determined that at least one came from my farming postcards, which I mail out the first week of every month. So I call the lady. She answers and I introduce myself, saying who I am and that I saw she called. She was so. rude. Yeah, I’m no longer interested bc you didn’t answer the phone. Um, I’m sorry, but I was sick with the flu all last week. Yeah, well I’ve moved on to other agents. Oh well, have you signed an agreement? No. Oh, then I’d be happy to answer your questions…. the conversation went on but she was just so pissy that I didn’t answer my phone at the exact time that she called. I mean, nevermind that I was very ill. I could have been in the bathroom, meeting with a client, doing any number of things… and mind you, she couldn’t even be bothered to leave a message. But me losing her business was MY FAULT bc I was lazy. That’s seriously what she was insinuating. She then said she was at work and very busy. I offered to call her back at a more suitable time. I’d be happy to meet in person, as I also live in MV… she basically hung up. And this was so upsetting to me. I mean, sure, we all have shit days. We all get into bad moods. But Jesus. The attitude, the apparent disrespect… I am honestly astonished by the number of adults living in this world who behave and interact like children. And yet, I am supposed to build a thicker skin, give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she’s just rough on the edges, as people like to say. She has a home to sell, and I at least want to interview for the role of selling her home. I wrote her a card and I’m going to follow up.

On the up side, I called a guy I’ve been in touch with since summer. Originally, he said he’d be keen to meet in the new year to discuss working together to find his family a home. He was very pleasant and spoke openly. But they are bowing out of the market. It’s just still too high and too competitive. Honestly, I don’t think the market is going to change anytime soon (like in the next year), but I have to respect people and their choices. This is def not the market for people who are wishy washy or uncertain. You gotta decide and then go full speed ahead. We’ll see what other interesting characters I encounter this week as I get back to business.

Big Decisions

As many of you know, I’ve been a dog sitter on Rover for the last year and a half. My business has grown pretty well, with a lot of repeat customers. The thing is though, for as much as I love doggies, caring for them doesn’t always equate to a connection or a bond. In other words, I’ve probably had about 20 different clients, but only a few have really jived with us. For most of them, they come and stay for a few days, then they go home and that is that. The engagement is somewhat transactional. And certainly, at different stages of their lives, doggies can be more aloof like Remy and Martin were in their elder years. They aren’t as interactive.

After Christmas, I hosted Buster the beagle and Cody the corgi for about six days. They are repeat clients, but omg, I fell really hard for Buster. After he left, I just sobbed and sobbed. Like uncontrollable wailing. It hurt so badly. And I think this reaction of mine, along with new feelings that have cropped up in the past month really pointed to the idea that we are ready to have a doggie warm our home again.

When I’d come home and Buster and Cody would be so excited and eager to greet me, it made me so happy. When I chased them around the yard, tugging on their toys, it brought so much joy. John made a comment the other day that with all the rejection I face from my new career, more than ever, it’s important for me to feel valued and loved and useful.

So after the new year, I ramped up on the puppy porn. I will say, pet adoption sure has changed since back in the day. Can you believe I got Remy in 1998 through a classified ad in the newspaper? And Martin we got through an adoption event in 2003 at the local PetSmart. His adoption involved filling out a form and writing a check. Then, off he went with us. Flash forward 15 years and before you can even meet the dog, you have to complete a multi-page application, including your history, how you would handle certain training challenges, a home visit (or at least pictures of your home), a phone interview, references, PLUS the meet/greet. I mean, as someone who values thoroughness, I understand. But gosh, it’s just so much more involved than before.

So this past week, I submitted four different applications. Well, Nala, the St. Bernard mix got adopted the day after I applied. Then there was a labbie mix Loki. I never heard back from the org (ALL of them are completely volunteer-run so process isn’t as efficient as it could be), but we went to the adoption fair on Saturday. We met him, but he was a little aggressive/uneasy and looked a lot like Martin. Maybe too alike.

Then I contacted the beagle rescue (Yes, Buster was THAT compelling). Met an old girl Misty, who was very independent. But in the end, we felt she was maybe too old and too near the caretaking period, which John is not quite ready to enter again so soon. I scheduled to see another beagle Max for Sunday evening. Then almost on a whim, I did a search for German Shepherd Dog (GSD) rescues. It’s kinda weird how sometimes life has these common threds… When I was a kid, I always loved German Shepherds. I had breed-specific books on them and I just loved that they were intelligent and loyal working dogs. I’d read that they needed a lot of mental stimulation and consistent training and yet, as a child, none of that fazed me.

When I got Remy, I specifically answered her ad bc she was a shep mix. When I got her though, she was clearly mixed with something little. It was fine, she was still beautiful and I loved her so much. But she wasn’t really a GSD in the traditional sense. And what I’ve noticed as I’ve gotten older is that I’m more worrisome and less confident. For example, I as a kid was more confident about taking on a GSD than I am as an adult. I’ve continued to love GSD through the years but my brain somehow convinced myself that they were no longer a realistic choice– they are prone to diseases, anxiety; they are too smart; they require too much energy… all the things that drew me as challenges in my younger years now dissuaded me. Then we saw Bentley, a beautiful white GSD with the sweetest face. And based on his description, he is so unlike the typical breed. No aggression. No anxiety. Very gentle. Gets along with other dogs. And then I read that white shepherds are the recessive trait and their temperament is softer, so they are never used as police dogs. Long story short, we went to meet Bentley yesterday. And I communicated back and forth with his owner. His story is that his owner got him as a puppy but then her job changed and she moved out of state. Her new apartment doesn’t take dogs, so she had him with her mom and grandmother. But her grandmother is getting more frail and is prone to tripping, so now he’s been relegated to the yard. After a year, they realized he needed a new home.

I don’t judge his owners for what has happened. Of course, as dog lovers, we never want to see an animal given up, but hell, this is life. Shit happens. Circumstances change and ultimately, this is their sacrifice– to give up a dog they love so he can have a better life. For some reason, it makes me think of all the difficult decisions we have to make. Like with our aging family losing their strength, cognition, independence… these transitions are awful, sad, and hard. But tough choices have to be made. And there is strength, courage, maturity, and compassion in those choices. Since my trip back East for Christmas, I have been feeling so sad and burdened thinking about aging, frailty, and mortality. Some days, I feel immobilized by the weight of the anticipation of it all. But witnessing the fortitude of my childhood friend T and the resolve of J and his siblings in making difficult decisions for their mother, I see that you still have to move forward. Paralysis doesn’t help anyone.

We adopted Remy and Martin with but a few minutes of consideration. By comparison, this decision to adopt again took much more time and analysis etc. Perhaps we are more cautious now. Perhaps we are more averse to inconvenience or hassle. Perhaps we have become overly concerned with optimization… Ahem, do any of these things sound familiar? We are trying to catch ourselves from morphing into our parents…

Yesterday, I liked Bentley but it’s always hard to form a bond on a first meeting. And honestly, I gave myself a tummy ache worrying about this and that: is he the one? right now or later? what if this or that? Incidentally, I caught a cold yesterday too. I got no sleep the night prior, bc I was worrying about so many things.

But I have decided to channel my younger self. And John points out that this GSD is a common thred: I have always loved the breed and this is my chance to adopt one with “softer” qualities. We have the time, resources, and experience. And we love dogs. They bring us joy. The time is now.

So today, I woke up sicker than yesterday but feeling a new mental clarity. We have been in talks with the owner who now lives in Vegas. We need to work out some logistics regarding his neuter surgery but other than that, it’s just a matter of picking him up and bringing Bentley home.