The Deceptive Cutie
The Deceptive Cutie
My dog Zeke works his magic. Plus an update on his krazy klutzy behavior.
Last weekend my wife, my dog Zeke, and I were wandering around The Corn Festival in Forest Grove, Oregon.
As we walked through the fest, numerous kids and adults wanted to pet Zeke. This is always the case no matter where we take our little furball.
However few people realize that he’s a kill shelter rescue who was abused and abandoned in Bakersfield, California. It’s taken us years to work through his issues, gain his trust, and make him the most excellent pup he is now.
A great doggie indeed. Except for every now and then.
As you can see, Zeke still has some issues. He’s a bit of a rage machine with certain behavioral and visual triggers such as personal space invasions, large fluffy huskies, or anyone that makes deliveries to the house. This is especially true when it comes to the USPS. Oh the hate is strong against the postman.
We tested this hate out by accident one day while walking Zeke in the neighborhood. The mail truck was sitting alongside the road we were walking down. As we neared it, we were prepared to hold Zeke back if he went into a fit.
But something funny happened. Even though the mailman was sitting in his truck and sorting mail. Zeke did nothing. He leaned out of the truck and said hello. Zeke still didn’t react and was perfectly fine with the mailman!
However when the mailman turned on the engine to the truck, this set him off to barking and snarling. We concluded that it was actually the sound of the truck’s engine which he hated with a passion!
Was it the gears? The pumping of the pistons? The sputter of the muffler? Or was it the combined cacophony of vehicular noise those little trucks make?
Every time one of those little white trucks drive down the road his little dog ears prick up. He hears it approaching and this sends him ballistic.
Barking, jumping up and down, and then running to the backdoor to get to the porch where he can practice his Orwellian Two Minutes of Hate for the little square truck.
It was a daily routine, or at least it was until yesterday.
Yesterday morning Deb and I were both working in our offices while Zeke sat as he usually did, resting on the top of the living room couch while looking out the window.
It was a little after 9:00 A.M. when I heard the post truck approach the house. That’s when Deb and I both heard a small yip come from the living room. Right afterwards Zeke walks into my office. He was shaking, panting and seeming to have difficulty with barking and jumping.
I was thinking maybe he had an issue with his breakfast food or something. But this went on most of the day until about 10:00 P.M. when he seemed to quiet down and settle in for a night’s sleep.
The sleep lasted until 2:00 A.M. when he winced as he jumped up into our bed. He was still exhibiting the symptoms from earlier.
That’s when I realized that I needed to take him to the all-night Pet Emergency Room.
When we arrived at the Pet ER, they looked him over and from what they could tell he somehow threw out his neck.
I let them know it was possibly Postal Whiplash. The vet and I figured Zeke got so wound up that morning he managed to fall from the couch and give himself whiplash from yelling at the Postman.
They gave him a shot of pain killer, then loaded me up with drugs to give him for the next few days. They also gave me a nice hefty bill.
Thankfully though, the cost for the service, as well as the drugs, were one-fourth of what a person would pay at a Human ER.
After a full course of today’s dose of drugs Zeke seems to be back to his usual Hulkian Rage, but still, he needs to go easy on his antics for a couple weeks just to be on the safe side.
This experience got me thinking about my own healthcare needs.
Maybe next time, after I screw myself up from working on my house, I should grab Zeke and head to the nearest Pet ER.
If I can train Zeke in the fine art of Hypochondria, getting him to correctly mimic my various afflictions, I’ll be able to take advantage of the pet healthcare discount for medications. I mean, it’s worth a shot since most of the pet pain meds are derived from drugs given to humans?
It’ll take some persuading to get the vet to believe Zeke torqued his back out throwing around 80lb. bags of concrete, but I’m confident in his acting skills.
After all, look how he can sucker in kids and adults into believing his pseudo-friendly attitude.1
Be kind to your little furry friends until the next time we talk.
Cheers,
Ed
I’m being sarcastic as if you couldn’t tell. Only a real immoral scoundrel would use their furbabies to score drugs.
Frankly, Ed., I think it's a good plan. You can have a lot more done for your animal than for yourself in any ER you visit.
I thought for sure the "cute" little kid was going to bop Zeke in the snout. Like Talky Tina and Telly Savalas in the Twilight Zone...