Posts tagged "doggiediaries"

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the Dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

Many readers expressed concern about our post from a couple weeks ago, in which we noted that, despite Pippi's traumatizing experience at the kennel earlier this year -- she got frighteningly sick and lost a bunch of weight -- we decided to bring her there again during a recent vacation. "Please reconsider," pleaded one Doggie Diaries reader. "I don't understand why you would put Pippi back in the same situation that made her so miserable before," said another.

Trust us, we would prefer to board her with a friend or have someone come look in on her at our house, but we just moved to a new town and don't really know anyone here. As for why we returned to the same kennel, well, we couldn't isolate exactly why she had a bad time before, and weren't sure it was their fault -- she'd stayed there previously without incident. Otherwise, we'd had great experiences with that kennel, which is also home to our vet.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the Dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

---

We recently took Pippi back to the vet for the first time since her traumatic experience boarding there a month back. The poor dog got sick during her stay there -- either owing to missing us, fear of the noisy dog run or a bad reaction to a Lyme disease vaccination (nobody really knows). But upon our return, the workers there told us something we didn't know -- that Pippi refused to eat for much of the time. They had to feed her by hand!

Perhaps this is arrogant of us, but we suspect the reason she wouldn't eat is because she missed us. After all, we've heard of this happening with other dogs when their owners go out of town, including one of Anna's sister's dogs. But the thought that she'd gone on some sort of hunger strike absolutely broke our hearts.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the Dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

Last night, in the midst of the most brutal rainstorm of the season so far, Anna took Pippi out to do her business. They were out only for a minute or two, but in between going No. 1 and getting drenched to the bone, Pippi sniffed something on the ground and promptly began devouring it. Anna wrenched the item from her mouth, but then she picked up something else and successfully wolfed it down. Whether these were bits of some old pizza, bagel or shoelace, we'll never know.

If you have a dog, you've surely experienced situations where your pup's nose uncovers contraband that is otherwise invisible to the human eye. (Did we ever tell you about the time Pippi stuck her head in the bushes and came out with a dead squirrel between her teeth?)

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

Pippi fancies herself an athletic dog. When we take her to the dog park or the home of our friends Dev and Lawrence -- who have a fenced-in backyard and a zippity-doo dog of their own named Moose -- Pippi will run around like crazy, chasing balls, sticks, her companions, whatever. She doesn't care, so long as she's permitted to run at top speed, without interruption, for hours.

But we recently put her stamina to the test when we took her on a hike through the hills of Harriman State Park, near the New York/New Jersey border. In fact, for much of the trek -- which took us five hours to complete -- the hills were more like mountains. At one point we even had to scale a nearly vertical climb. Undaunted, Pippi scrambled right up, with only a little assistance from Anna.

Not only that, but the weather was fairly treacherous. Though the snow had melted off where we live, at this raised elevation it covered the ground, and much of the time we were crunching through ice and water.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

We wrote last year about the trouble we had with Pippi's first vet. She seemed to make quick, unfounded diagnoses, and attempt to prescribe everything under the sun. Our new veterinarian is much improved, but we still had an upsetting experience recently when we boarded her there.

Anna and I were vacationing in Florida for six days. In fact, we were sitting on a beach about to go kayaking when I got the call -- Pippi had become extremely anxious, someone from the vet's office said, and was vomiting and had bloody diarrhea. Her nervousness was likely due to the boarding area being crammed with more dogs than usual, that person said, as it was President's Day weekend. Apparently, it can get very loud down there. Complicating matters, Pippi had just received her first Lyme disease vaccination, so the vet wasn't actually sure what was wrecking havoc on her system.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

Anna wrote this week's column.

Pippi is without a doubt a rough-and-tumble kind of girl. She loves climbing, running and hopping over anything in her path -- whether she's inside or outside. She even rubs against and bumps into us to show affection. My sister refers to her as a "little tank," since she has lovingly mowed down my niece and nephew on more than one occasion.

In the past couple of months, though, Pippi has turned up with a number of cuts and scrapes, and it has us stumped. With all the snow covering the ground, we think she must be stepping on sharp sticks or other objects hidden under the snow. But she recently had a small abrasion high up on her hind leg, which must have been caused by something else. She never cries out at the time she's hurt; we just discover the injuries later and are left scratching our heads over where and when she got them.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

The reasons dogs jump on people is simple -- they want to be face to face with us. It makes sense; heck, if my head naturally sat 18 inches off the ground I would get tired of it, too. But it's also not something you want your dog to do. Even if you don't mind her jumping up on you, it sets a bad precedent for other people. Not everyone is a dog lover, and even those who are can be put off by a 50-pound wiggle worm getting up in their business.

We wrote last year about a woman whom Pippi annoyed after jumping up on her collarbone. You readers wrote in and told us this was unacceptable, and we listened to you. But a full year and a stint in obedience school later, we can't get her to keep four on the floor -- not even close. Our attempts to discipline her against doing this have been entirely unsuccessful. She still tries to jump up on people in the street, and it often takes all of my strength to stop her.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

When and where dogs do their business has become a highly controversial subject in this column. First things first: Contrary to the insinuations of some of our frequent commenters, we always pick up after Pippi. But the concern about people picking up after their pets is common among many people -- pet owners and non-pet owners alike -- who wish others would practice better puppy peeing etiquette. This becomes even more of an issue during the winter, when snow everywhere means there's nowhere for the droppings to hide.

Here in Northern New Jersey, we've had a couple of feet of snow on the ground since the day after Christmas, and it poses a challenge when we're walking Pippi. There's really nowhere convenient for her to go. And so, when she has to pee, she sometimes goes right in the middle of the sidewalk -- although usually on a snowy or icy patch, rather than right on the concrete. Is this gross? I realize some folks may not enjoy walking across yellow patches, but it usually soaks in pretty quickly.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

Since moving into a new house in a new town, we've got a whole new list of pup-related challenges.

Not long ago, Anna wrote about some of our indoor issues, but there are outdoor troubles as well, particularly when it comes to finding a place for Pippi to romp around. We have a backyard, but it doesn't have a fence; we plan to get one of those invisible fences when the snow goes away, but considering it's shaping up as one of the more brutal winters in memory, that won't happen soon.

Our former next door neighbor used to give us the run of her fenced-in backyard, but we don't have something like that here. Letting Pippi off the leash late at night was another strategy we used to employ, but temps are down near the single digits when the sun goes down, so that's no fun.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

After we initially considered names like "Pickle" and "Popcorn," Anna came up with the idea of calling our pup "Pippi," after her girlhood idol, Pippi Longstocking. Sure beats the name they had given her at the shelter: "Jamaica."

Though I'm a big fan of "Pippi," it wasn't long before I began riffing on it. Almost immediately I began calling her "Pipsqueak." And then, before long, simply, "Squeak." Following that, for a very long time I called her "Squeakers" or "Squeaky." In fact, for the first year we had her, I probably addressed her as "Squeaky" more than anything else.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

Anna wrote this week's column.

We moved -- again! It seems Ben and I -- and our furry family -- just can't sit still for more than 365 consecutive days. So we packed up and moved ourselves from one New Jersey suburb to another, a few miles away, into a larger place with a yard for Pippi.

It's only been a few weeks, but the move brought out some odd behaviors in our dog, and I hope our readers can offer some good advice for handling them.

First, Pippi has taken up the habit of jumping on the living room sofa in order to look out the large front window, especially when one of us is arriving or leaving. We have never allowed her on the sofa before -- and, previously, she heeded us -- so I don't understand why she is suddenly making herself comfortable up there.

Second, our new abode doesn't have a kitchen that can easily sleep Pippi, the way our old place did. So now we let her sleep in Ben's office, a room just across the hall from our bedroom. In the morning Pippi wakes up, sometimes quite early, and whines until I liberate her.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

A calamitous snowstorm hit the New York area not long ago, and it completely shut us in. Two feet of fluff blocked our exits, and Anna's car was completely covered; from certain directions you couldn't even see it was there.

Now, Pippi may hate the rain, but she loves the snow. Right after last winter's blizzard, the two of us roamed our new neighborhood, all alone in the streets, running around and investigating snow banks for an hour or more. We got lost and had to follow our footprints back.

The storm this year was so intense that we had trouble even getting out of the house. But duty called, and so around 10 p.m., with snow still falling and winds whipping by at 30 or 40 mph, we made a break for it.

Ben Westhoff

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

Anna wrote this week's column.

Pippi has a funny relationship with water. On one hand, she cannot stand rain. Even a mild shower will stunt her normal enthusiasm to go outside. If she's forced to, her ears and tail droop, and she generally looks pathetic.

On the other hand, she loves to lounge in the bathroom while Ben or I take a shower or bath. (Ben's the one who prefers to soak in the tub, truth be told.) I have a theory that the sound of the spray and the steam heat make Pippi feel like she's relaxing at a doggie spa of sorts.

So I had no idea how she would handle a bath. As you probably know, it can be hard to control a wet dog who's not interested in a cleaning, and I had visions of a mighty struggle that would leave both of us soaped up and panting.

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

Anna wrote this week's column.

How do you tell a dog you're sorry? That was my dilemma.

Let me explain.

Pippi greeted me enthusiastically, as usual, when I came home from work recently, crowding me at the door, her tail flapping furiously. The excitement was mutual -- we were both all smiles. At the same time, I wanted to make sure that she didn't get outside. And so, as I struggled with multiple bags of work-related things, I tried to block her in.

Once inside, I looked away from the door while pushing it closed, lost in thought. Pippi was dancing her little jig, her hindquarters wiggling as her tail swept side to side. But as the door closed, she emitted a high-pitched yelp -- I had inadvertently slammed her tail in the door!

Each week, Ben Westhoff shares the ups and downs of owning Pippi, the dalmatian mix he and his wife, Anna, adopted as a puppy in late 2009.

So here's what happened.

Last night I heard a knock on the back door. I opened it to find a middle-aged woman I had never seen before, standing on our porch with a snow shovel full of dog poop and leaves. "I hate to do this to you, since it's not your fault," she said, "but three days ago your girlfriend let your dog poop in my front yard down the block, and it wasn't the first time. I saw her cover it up with leaves."

"My wife?" I asked, flabbergasted. "With the curly hair? I'm sure it wasn't her. She always brings a bag. She would never do that."

"Yes, it was her," she replied, quivering. I stood there with my mouth open as she proceeded to dump the pile onto the porch and walk away.

"That's extremely obnoxious," I yelled after her. "That's not the way to solve your problems."