Homebodies - Here’s to the friends of canines!
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- Published on Saturday, November 21, 2015
By Rita Friesen
The Neepawa Banner
Here’s to the friends of canines! I have been watching and there are a whole big bunch of us that love our dogs.
We spend hard earned money on them. We fret when we are separated from them, even if we have left them with trusted dog keepers. We forgive their transgressions. Ignore their bad habits. Humour their quirks. I know. I do all of that!
Gone are the days when the family dog grows fat on table scraps. Poor Henry Hoover, as soon as he gets a tad overweight (yes, I worry about that to!), he gets a breathing problem not unlike an asthma attack. Not fun, for him or me. Miss Daisy had a rough start in life and so she eats much too quickly. A modest investment in “slow Bowls” has both dogs eating at a reasonable pace. Hoover’s is green with inch and a half deep concentric circles, and Miss Daisy’s is pink with a pattern like an open flower, also inch and a half deep troughs. To really slow them down, I switch their dishes and whereas Hoover has mastered the ring system, Miss Daisy runs circles to capture her food. Actually cheap entertainment for me. They both have an intolerance for wheat and so they dine on brown rice and lamb. Fine dining indeed.
Every two weeks, the course that I am taking requires that I spend Sunday night in Brandon. My dogs stay in our home, with the folks that share our home, and they mourn my absence! Last episode involved a mad break for an open field when they demanded a 1 a.m. bathroom break! Their caregiver was less than impressed. We recognise that Hoover suffers from separation anxiety – that’s a real thing folks! And he almost always acts out his fear when I am away too long according to Hoover. And so I am anxious about his anxiety! So I clean up and love him. Both dogs love most people and so it isn’t that they are unhappy, they just want mama home.
Both dogs bark. Too much. As they spot a car turning in the drive, and they have good eyes, they go into a frenzy. Even regular visitors, even family coming home at the same time every day excite them. Hoover has a high pitched bark that nearly shatters glass, never mind my ears. Miss Daisy barks because her brother is barking. There is a water filled squirt bottle close at hand. When they see me pick that up they cower and growl, low guttural growls that rumble in their chests. They need to bark. That sound must be released. Bad habit, and I have not found a humane way to break it.
For all that, I love them to bits. And I am not alone.
