lederhosen

It's not quite six months since we were a two-dog household, and now they're both gone. We took Basil to the vet just last Thursday and he was surprised by how well Basil was looking, but warned us that it probably wouldn't last.

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He was so very different from Dog-Or. Dog-Or was an uncomplicated dog who loved everybody and assumed they loved him back (mostly correctly). Basil had a lot of defensive behaviours, he bit all of us at least once, and he was cautious about us - he would give my hand a very polite little lick when he was feeling friendly. When you called him, he'd stop to think about whether he really wanted to come. (Baths: no thank you.) But it was clear he liked being around us, and not just at mealtimes; when Rey was out he'd camp by the door waiting for her to come home.

I wish I knew where he came from before the Lost Dog's Home, whether there's somebody out there wondering whatever became of their little black-and-white borglie. We only got the last quarter of the story, but we did what we could with it.

Committing these things to memory:

A white-tipped tail, quite out of proportion to its owner, standing high above his head when happy, waving as if he's trying to hail a taxi.

Pointed ears, one straight, one folded, twitching at the mention of his name.

The rituals of Wanting Something. The plaintive eyes, head slightly cocked, showing off those ears to best advantage. The small polite lick on my hand, like a gentleman offering his card. The offered paw, a preamble to the rollover and the belly. The frantic circles at feeding time and the leap-thump-leap-thump as he overcompensates for the shortness of his legs.

The appetite, gulping down food unchewed before it can be taken away.

The shedding. So much fur, finding its way into everything.

The mind, too sharp by half, that always knows what we're up to.

The fears. Alarm at loud noises, the tail tucked down between his legs as cars drive by. The jealousy over food and the reflexive snarl when suddenly woken - and the apology afterwards. The dog who crept into a dark cupboard on his first day with us and sat there so quietly that we looked there twice and missed him; the dog who sneaks under our bed at night like a little ninja.

The sore spots that we never understood but eventually learned to avoid.

The delight every day when we come home, sniffing our legs to find out where we've been and who we've seen, tail lashing hard enough to hit himself in the face.

And now, counting cans and wondering if the dogfood will outlast the dog. Oh, little fellow, I wish you were staying with us.

(Probably nothing for concern here)

Basil may've had a small fit this afternoon. He was sitting on the sofa for a while; I looked around and saw him moving around on the floor next to the sofa. He might've just been scratching himself on the rug or something, but it looked more like a fit, twisting from side to side. When he had a fit before, it was like he'd lost the use of his back legs (and was trying to get up but not managing to do it). This looked like it might've been the same sort of thing.

I held his head gently (so he wouldn't bump it on furniture) and he stopped moving around. When I let him go, he sat there quietly for a while, not obviously distressed but not responding when I called him. After a few minutes he got up, but he was looking a bit quieter than usual for a while.

Didn't last as long as last time and he didn't seem as distressed. Last time he was better by the time we got to the vet, and they couldn't find anything wrong with him. I'm guessing epilepsy or something of that sort; having only seen it happen twice in the last year-and-a-half, I'm not too worried. Just making a note here in case things change and I want a history.

It's just over a year since we adopted Basil from the Lost Dog's Home. He seems to have decided he likes it here. Unfortunately he still has some stray dog instincts that are hard to lose, and he's bitten each of us a couple of times, but I think we're making progress with him.

I made the mistake of incorporating "feed my dogs" into my morning routine as the FIRST thing I do after getting up. So I had only myself to blame when Basil started waking me up earlier and earlier in the hope of getting breakfast NOW NOW NOW.

So there's been a change in the routine. If Basil wants a morning shower, he wakes me up before seven and I give him a shower (he needs them fairly often anyway for skin allergies). If he doesn't want a morning shower, he lets me sleep until my alarm goes off, and I feed him. He's a bright dog; it only took two showers before he figured out the new rule.

We've also discovered that he has a Magic Spot just above his tail. Rub it just right, and his hindquarters collapse and he starts doing Happy Growl Leg Thump. (Happy Growl sounds very slightly different from his "RHAAR I CUT YOU" growl.) Rub it a bit more and he falls over altogether onto his back.

Dog-Or is getting old, alas. He's 13 this year, and slowing down quite a lot. He's less steady on his feet, he sometimes passes when Ratboy offers him a walk, and once (but only once) I had difficulty waking him for food, which REALLY had me worried. But he's doing OK; I don't think he likes the hot weather, but other than that he seems happy. Still not wild about Basil, but they manage to get along without too much trouble.

As Rey posted a couple of days ago, the dogs were getting very stroppy at feeding time - Basil wolfs his down and then goes for Dog-Or's, snarling and snapping ensues etc, and Dog-Or was getting very stressed to the point where he wouldn't even go downstairs. (Basil has shown no interest in the Land Upstairs, and we're quite happy to leave it that way.)

We've settled on a new routine: Rey and I leash the dogs, lead them to separate spots on the patio, and they both have to sit before they're allowed to eat. Basil stays leashed until Dog-Or has finished his bowl or abandoned it. This seems to have helped things; they're not growling nearly as much, and even shared a beanbag for a while today. I don't think Dog-Or was really enthused about this, but he didn't growl or flounce. Progress!

Basil seems to be getting used to the place. He still spends a lot of his time playing "invisible dog" hiding in little niches around the house (quite the opposite of Dog-Or) but when I walk into the room he'll come out and say hello, and accept pats and scritchies for as long as I'm willing to give them. He seems to have hurt his foot somehow, so he may be in for a vet trip tomorrow.

Dog-Or is learning to live with him. He's been an only dog for eleven years, so I can't blame him for getting a bit jealous, but I think he'll get there. They both love w a l k s and that should help them bond a bit.

( Work stuff. )

Dog-Or has decided that the interloper will be tolerated, as long as he recognises who's alpha dog and doesn't so much as LOOK at Dog-Or's food. Or sit on the beanbag. (So we got Basil a new doggie bed, and Dog-Or has decided he wants that one now...)

Basil is settling in, but a bit nervous about dealing with a new place and a new dog. He vanished this afternoon and we turned the house & garden over twice, trying to find him; eventually he turned up in the cupboard under the stairs. We'd already looked there twice, but he'd wriggled past boxes right to the back and was sitting there being a black dog in darkness. I don't think he's been a stray all his life, but I get the impression he's had a bit of a rough time one way or another.