Category: Grooming

Tips on grooming your pets.

Going to give it another go!

Well, folks, after a couple of years, I finally connected with Judy, my writing coach. Yes, I have started writing again.

As far as my first book, Drinking from the Trough, a Veterinarian’s Memoir, I had a great time writing it and learning about the book business from Judy and my publisher, She Writes Press.

I don’t know how many books sold. I do know I have to get into B/N’s face because their store in town has a local author’s site, and an animal site. My book wasn’t there. We have a ‘little mail box’ in our neighborhood. I signed and put my book in, and that’s the last I’ve seen of it. It’s always taken. So I signed another and put it in the little library. It’s out too.

I have some clues as to what I want to write about, but we’ll see what comes up. I have a few ideas, but one is so touchy, two people I told about it said not to write it.

I am in awe about how people have lived during this quarantine, the lies on TV, and lack of things to do. I have been crazy busy. I am trying to get my orthopedic remnants pain-free, and am down to just the one hip, not replaced, hurting, and my right thumb.

Ivy has also been grounded from her therapy dog work, too. We have been walking twice a day, throwing her “Chuck-It” ball, and keeping her training up. She still plays the Lotto, Megamillions and Powerball so she can support me in my declining years.

I still take precautions. Plus our governor ordered masks inside places of business along with social distancing. One of my ortho docs said we are in a small area of safety. I always have a Cubs mask around my neck ready to put on in an instant.

I am so sorry for the people who were ill, and of course those who died. One of the victims was the mayor of my home town of Highland Park, Illinois. Ray Geraci was 91. Med staff wanted to  put him on a ventilator. Ray said, no, he had lived a good life for a long time, and to give it to a younger person. Then he died.

Do not be fooled by hopes of a COVID19 vaccine before the election, they take years to develop. One fatal illness in cats is called FIP, or feline infectious peritonitis. There is a wet form and a dry form. The wet form is easy to diagnose. Pulling some bright yellow fluid from the abdomen is diagnostic. For the lab test, there are problems. You see, FIP is a corona virus, and to test for it is iffy because other corona viruses, like the gastroenteral corona viridae, can show false positives.

The reason there is no virus for the common cold is because of how fast this rhinovirus mutates. The flu shot is a little more accurate, but it’s still a shot in the dark (pun not intended).

So I stay in working. Ivy loves to chase her ball out back behind the garages, usually before I can get my breakfast. We go to the dog park that has a walking trail, is right near the runway for the airport, and Ivy doesn’t need toys. She runs like a maniac. She is so fast. Being outside is a Godsend. Our neighborhood is quiet and friendly. I think I prefer behind the house. I always ask any neighbors out if this is okay, and they say it’s fine.

My house got painted a few weeks ago-it’s lovely. Please whack me upside the head with a ball pean hammer if I have to apply again for the HOA to approve, and also if I have to interview painters.

That’s it for now. I have a Zoom Parks and Rec. board meeting at 5:15. Last month, I absolutely screwed it up, and went to watch TV. Judy and I met by zoom, and our board secretary sent me idiot-proof instructions. Let us pray……

 

So much for the clean dog

Well, Ivy made it through last week until today. Then I took her to the dog park. Yes, THAT dog park, where I did a header and skinned my nose and knees.

Honestly, this dog will chase the ball launched from the dog ball launcher until she fell down in heat stroke if I let her. She had a great time playing with a husky until he and his owner left. Then we had the place to ourselves.

An update on the townhome: I had garage remotes fixed, put in a keypad, had the vanity (80’s) painted, and removed the twisted poles where there is now a spacious looking place to put dog boxes. Things dry fast around here.

Ivy loves the patio and chasing her ball. Thing is, I can’t just leave her out there-coyotes would have a lovely lunch of Goldendoodle. Not on my watch.

While I was gone, I meant to set the thermostat to be cooler. It was 85 in the house when we got back. Darwin’s Law I guess.

Princess Ivy of Wrigley Field goes to the spa

Hands down, the best doodle groomer in town is April Castillon of Spa 4 Paws. Two weeks ago, when Ivy had just a “fluff and buff,” I reminded April that Ivy was scheduled for her Arizona haircut in two weeks. April said she would be out of town for business. OK, I thought, Ivy will be fine. April keeps records of what the owner likes the dog to look like. She knows if anyone touches her four inch eyelashes, a funeral will be involved.

So this morning we went to the spa. Who’s at the front desk? April! I said, “What are you doing here”? She replied that she postponed her trip because no one wanted to cut Ivy’s coat. When I picked Ivy up, I asked April if I was a helicopter mom who yelled at everyone about my perfect dog. I didn’t think so. The staff preferred not to do Ivy because she is so beautiful, and I want her to look a certain way. April also said one groomer cut the eyelashes short on one dog. Oy.

Ivy was gorgeous, and will not go to a dog park until we are in Tucson. She will get walked on a leash.

What a fine place of business where the staff knows the dogs and owners so well, and the owner postpones a trip to cut one special dog who brings smiles to the world.

Overkill at the spa

Well, Ivy finally got into the spa yesterday. April could’t do her last week, because she was scheduled for a “fluff and buff” and Ivy was clearly a 34 # mat. I picked her up four hours later, and boy did that dog look skinny! April had to take the clippers down to the skin. As per usual, she left the ears and tail intact.

Rubber ducky, you’re the one…

You make bath time lots of fun. Rubber ducky, I’m awfully fond of you, do, do, do, do, do!

The great joy while waiting to see if the publisher of my choice will accept my book, before I start searching for another, is that for work, I have only to keep up my social media writing such as this blog entry.

I can read, and highly recommend the last two books I have been reading: Tell Me That This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson-a laugh out loud book that takes a few chapters, well about a quarter of the book really, before you find out it’s wicked funny. Before I start her next book, I am reading Senator Al Franken’s book: Al Franken, Giant of the Senate. This book is funny also, because Franken was a comedian for so long, that he can’t help but see some of the senate idiocy from a humorous point of view. It’s pretty up to date with regard to what’s going on in DC.

I also cherish my time with Ivy. We went to the dog park this morning, and a boxer attacked her. The boxer, a service dog for her human’s mother, serves as a “balance dog” for the mom’s MS. The dogs worked it out, and more doodles arrived, so it was a doodle Woodstock with a boxer thrown in the mix.

I had left a message for my groomer, April, whose shop is closed Mondays. I got a call back from Heather, Frank’s stylist, and she says she does doodles as well. I guess there’s quite a bit of knowledge to have to properly style a doodle. Ivy already has an appointment for the day of her Canine Good Citizen test, but I wanted another one. I can give her a shower, but doing her coat is another thing. She is rather like a giant mat right now with two eyes, a nose, and a smiling mouth. Heather said she could take Ivy next Monday, the third of July, when the shop, Spa 4 Paws, is usually closed. She didn’t want to get behind because of the 4th, and she would be there Monday. We will come up with some sort of plan to style Ivy. Too short, and she’s too poodly. Too long, and she is a giant mass of matted hair. She looks like a fat sheep, but if you hold her hair in on her sides, you get half a sheep in appearance.

Ivy has gotten used to the choke chain, although she nearly killed me today running me to the door of my friends’ house.

Because she did such a crappy job during CGC class last Tuesday at Home Depot, even though she was perfect two days earlier, I pondered taking her to drop-in obedience this evening. Then, I decided to save a few bucks and just go back to Home Depot. It was cooler there, anyway, and we are expecting mid-90’s tomorrow.

Anytime I take my dog where only people should be, I ask permission. Even though all of  Canine Learning Center classes use Home Depot for “off campus” practice, I still ask. The checker I asked was a wild woman with bright eyes, and clearly a person happy with her job and the people she helps. I asked her if she would like to pet Ivy while I held her collar. The woman went nuts on me and told Ivy, “You go crazy, girlfriend, be wild, have fun.” Ivy laughed her head off as she did what she was told. Yes, dogs laugh-hard. They also can text, “LOL,” but that’s for another time.

Ivy and I practiced healing and shopping, stays, turns, the whole megillah. I found that in a mostly empty store with long aisles, I could put Ivy on a stay, sit or down, walk well away, and wait. She was perfect, and when finally called, did her usual jump in the air, run to me at top speed, and jump to a sit. Then she “finishes” when told, which means going behind my back to return to heel position sitting down for a nice treat.

It was still early to go home, so I called Diane from the car (all handless) and said Ivy had a present for Logan, the little Yorkie who needed re-homing due to a move up in the mountains where he would have been a great meal for a roving eagle. The toy, a fuzzy yellow duck that quacks when bitten, was a great hit with Logan and Ivy. Sol, Diane and Darell’s little poodle, not so much. Sol, pronounced “Soul,” has taken possession of Logan, and just watched.

Ivy also had fun running in the yard. We do not have a back yard, so she ran like a little maniac on the grass, diving into its fragrant softness. I spied a circular sprinkler on the lawn, and asked Diane if she would turn it on. OMG! My doodle went nuts! She ran circles around it, getting wet, drank from it, and spent a long time getting soaked. I doubt the grass got watered at all. The three of us humans drank iced tea and watched all three dogs doing maniacal canine deeds. I think Ivy took the prize for “the dog that will never be allowed inside Diane’s house again.” At this time, she is still outside. We left for home via a gate out of the yard instead of going through the house. That dog was dripping wet. All that hair I was worried about had disappeared into droplets of sopping curls. I put her directly outside, where she fell asleep in the delightful summer evening. She just now barked, once, so I went down to put her to bed. Her hair is mostly dry, so I’ll spend tomorrow trying to brush it out. At least it will look clean for class tomorrow night if we can stay away from the dog park.

 

 

Doodles Make You Smile Every Day

Ivy the Goldendoodle puppy is looking at seven months more like a dog than a puppy. I am starting to leave her loose in the house for longer times. This evening, I attended our monthly Parks and Recreation board meeting. When I got home, Ivy didn’t look guilty at all. She must have been sleeping by her door to her pen, but she was sitting at attention, straight as a four star general.

The filth from this morning’s jaunt to the dog park was mostly gone. Just my luck to get a white and tan parti color girl with sable ears and green eyes. Her eyelashes are 3″ long.

Since her Canine Good Citizen class doesn’t start until June, we go to Canine Learning Center for drop-in obedience. She’s the youngest dog there, definitely not a show dog, but for the recall exercise, I leave her in a sit stay (sometimes she will stay,) walk away and call, “Ivy, come”! She leaps into the air, runs like lightning, and leaps into a sit at my feet. The other ladies laugh hysterically because Ivy is so stinkin’ cute. This week, she knows how to “finish”, i.e., go back into the heel position. I taught her that last week for the price of one Cheerio. She will do anything for a Cheerio.

As her drop-in teacher, Julie Yamane, likes to say, “Mary, Doodles make you smile every day.”

Hail to the Doodle!

The motto for Colorado weather is if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute. I was in the TV loft yesterday vegging, when the room started getting dark. I looked out the window, and there were gentle snowflakes falling. I looked again, and it was pouring rain. Remembering that Ivy was out (don’t worry, she has a covered porch also), I went to get her. Hailstones on the ground.

Now imagine a curly Doodle with hailstones just the right size to fit into the middle of her curls, and you have a new breed-the Hailstone Golden Doodle!

Copacetic

Well, things are settling down from arm fracture. I just can’t hold heavy objects or have it pulled, like if I am not thinking, and have Ivy’s leash in my hand.

Ivy got her first puppy cut Friday, and Frank his usual grooming.

One morning, after the dog park, I stopped at Pier One to get Cowboy Joe a papasan footstool. He uses it as a way up onto the bed. The first night Ivy used her big dog sleeping crate, Joe wasn’t on the bed. But all is well, now. I don’t really know how a veterinary ophthalmologist could evaluate depth perception, but CJ has had it all his life.

Fort Fun was in the 80s yesterday, and is going to be warm but windy today. Ivy went to the front door indicating she wanted to have a walk. I told her to come back and carry her leash to the door. How cute is a puppy carrying her leash to the door because she wants a walk?

FURminators for spring coats

There are many tools used to groom animals. I particularly like the Matbuster®. It’s great for raking through kitty mats without risk of cutting skin. When I purchased a FURminator® for the cats, I was less than impressed. It’s a clipper blade to which a handle had been attached. Big whoop. It was trademarked, and the inventor is making zillions. Besides wishing I had thought of this myself, I also wish I held the patent for Velcro® and had purchased Google stock when the IPO was one dollar a share. The small unit worked OK. In the past my cat groomer had recommended to take a clipper blade without the clipper, and comb the cats with it. The cats were not amused. Once a cat decides it’s had enough, you are done. Call it a day.

The Wonder Husky isn’t that easy to furminate either. I love nouns that turn into verbs, by the way. To medal in the Olympics is a favorite. Huskies typically shed their undercoats in June, and once again before winter sets in, usually late September. For the past two years, Siberians have been dumping their coats all summer, making the yard look like a snowscape. I asked Mary, who has the boarding kennel where Tipper goes and has Huskies, if she experienced the same thing. She did. Huskies can be furminated, but it is tough when they really need to have their coats baled. Many people save the fur from their Huskies, Malamutes and Samoyeds to turn into wool. When Tip gets close to being done shedding, I take her to Mary with instructions to bathe her and return half a pup. I really can’t see myself wearing a sweater made out of my dog.

My sister sent us a wide FURminator® for the horses. Margo swears by it. By golly, she was right! Horses lose their coats all spring, and it’s a real mess. The hair gets all over your clothes, and since it adheres to Chapstick, it’s not all that tasty, either. Phthooey! The birds appreciate it though, for their nests. I’ve been furminating the ponies during the warm weather we’ve had this winter. Scoot and Hannah know they look stylin’.

Today I went outside to clean the barn. Getting the wheelbarrow out involves tossing hay out the window, so the horses go around outside and eat while I clean, instead of trying to get into the hay room for a snack. Scooter, in his inimitable spirit, chose to pick the shovel up in his teeth and sweep it from side to side. Mother’s little helper. I couldn’t clean at that moment because I was laughing too hard, so I got the Furminator and began to run it gently over Scoot’s and Hannah’s coats. Bingo! After Thursday’s blizzard, they were ready to be groomed.

I emailed my sister earlier in the month to tell her I was maniacally furminating the horses, and was there a 12-step program for this. She was pleased that her gift was so well received, telling me how her horses in Arizona were shedding as well. OK, now I love my wonderful sister, but isn’t there just a little bit of difference between an Arizona winter coat and a Colorado winter coat? How hard can that be to get a winter coat off horses that live an hour from Mexico?

Send me your favorite noun that has morphed into a verb. Be sure to use it in a sentence. There will be extra credit for this assignment.