Dogs & House Cleaning
Good lord, it is early.
Well, today is the big cleaning day, after which all smoking shall be kicked to the outdoors. (Mostly because I can’t imagine myself scraping up enough extra ambition and motivation to scrub the walls and ceilings more than once every couple of years, y’know.) I think I have all the stuff I need — bleach spray, Murphy’s Oil Soap, sponges, rags, a step ladder (cathedral ceilings, yay), Oxyclean . . . carpet & upholstry cleaner, I hope. If not, I’ll fake something together.
Note that I am sitting at the computer, drinking coffee, and not scrubbing mightily about the house. Heh. So much to do, so little energy. *sighs*
I ended up falling asleep on the couch last night, mostly out of self-defense. Which sounds much worse than it is. See, Jasmin goes in her kennel at night. Jasmin hates the kennel with a ferverent and violent passion. She does not merely whine to be let back out, like any other dog might, she screams. I didn’t know a dog could scream, but I can’t think of anything else to call it. And she’ll keep that up for at least forty-five minute to an hour. Every night. While I’m trying to sleep. Good god.
So, last night, I lay down on the couch with her, knowing full well that I would fall sound asleep, but since I wasn’t in the bed, then I hadn’t, technically, gone to bed, meaning that I didn’t, technically, have to put Jazz in her kennel. Right? Right. Anyway, we slept all night. Yay! No screaming, no fits, no being woke up twice in the night to take her out potty (and she didn’t potty on the couch) . . . just nice, warm, comfortable sleep.
Puppies are bad enough. How do people stand having babies?
I’ve tried all the tricks I know to get a dog comfortable in a kennel. There’s a ticking clock, a blanket and a stuffed animal (pre-warmed in the dryer), a bit of food and water, a toy, a chewie . . . nothing works. She’s just pissed. We’ve tried her in the room with us, out of the room with us, tv on, tv off, doesn’t matter. She wants none of it. I think I give up. If she ain’t crapping or piddling on the bed, fine, fuck it, she can sleep there. I work for a living, and I need me some sleep.
My friend says this is because she’s a terrier, and terriers aren’t really dogs, they’re very small, furry people. With constant Little Man’s Syndrome. Constant.
We took Jazz for her first vet’s visit last week — for our “puppy orientation”. Our old vet didn’t do this, but I guess the new vet does, and I like that. She explained that the big breeds, like Grimmy, fights for dominance in the “pack” once, and whomever wins, wins forever and ever, and it’s not an issue after that. Small breeds, on the other hand, like lil’ Jazz, fight for dominance every day. Every day, they wake up with the thought, “If I scrap hard enough today, I might get to be the boss!” (Which was a nice little philosophical moment for me.) The vet’s assistant said, “If you run a pack of ten beagles for ten days, then you might have a different alpha every day, after they’re done fighting about it and the dust settles.” So, that explains all the attitude problem. She told us that this might annoy Grim all to hell and back, because Jazz will be wanting to whip his butt every day, and he’ll be thinking, “Kid, I kicked your ass last month. I’m the boss, piss off.”
It was a very informative little orientation, and I learned a lot I didn’t know, so I was pretty pleased with it. If your vet doesn’t do this, then you might want to find one that does, because it’s really helpful.
After that, it was time for the shots. Now, Grim, when he gets a shot, he hardly notices. He might wince, but probably not. He’ll mostly just sit there and deal with it. Not Jazz. Man, you’d have thought we were murdering the poor little thing. She kicked up such a fit, holy shit. Yelped her head off — jeez.
Ladies and gentlemen, little dogs are really different than big dogs. I am in uncharted dog territory, here, because I’ve always had large breeds.
Jazz is one hundred percent full of piss n’ vinegar, and she doesn’t give up, and she doesn’t quit, and if she doesn’t get her way, she will chew your ass. Grim is just laid back and cool with everything. He’s like, “You wanna play fetch? No? Then I’m taking a nap. Catch you later.” Jazz is like, “Oh no, bitch, you’re playing right now! Now! Now! I said ‘Now’, bitch!” Holy crap, okay. *tosses ball* Damn.
This dog has my attitude. Jebus.
And on that note, I guess I’m going to read a few things for a bit, and then get to cleaning. Damn house won’t clean itself, and I took the extra day off to do it, so I guess I can’t be lazy. Drat.
