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Monday, June 26, 2006Weekend of the Three-Legged Dog
    Have I mentioned that I'm a cat person? Cat people don't usually like to be around dogs -- even nice dogs. But when my sister-in-law asked us to watch her beloved McCabe for the weekend, saying "yes" seemed like the right thing to do. This will be good for the children, thought I. This will be a great way to help out my sister-in-law (whom we all love dearly). Yes, I could do this. Of course, when my sister-in-law first called with the request, I warned her that the final answer would be up to Eric. No matter than he, out of all of us, would spend the least amount of time with McCabe. I knew that the big "yes" would have to come from Eric. And it came. My husband actually consented to a three-day stint of dogsitting. Early Friday morning, McCabe arrived in all her three-legged glory. I was presented with a crate, a bag of doggy supplies, and a two-page list of instructions. McCabe was full of gusto, hopping around, licking every bit of exposed skin within her reach, raring to go. I, of course, couldn't wait to wash my hands. "There's some Benadryl in her bag," my sister-in-law said, rather sheepishly, "because, well, McCabe's allergic to bees." "She's allergic to bees?" Yep. Evidently, McCabe had had an encounter with a bee in her mouth, the result of which was a swelled-up doggy head. The vet had warned that any subsequent bee attack might be more serious than the first. Hence, the Benadryl. Okay. Benadryl for a dog. I silently vowed to keep McCabe away from all flying insects at any cost. The first day went smoothly. Maggie and Rachel slipped into hyper-caregiver mode, the likes of which I've rarely seen. Not ten minutes after my sister-in-law had left, the girls took McCabe on her first walk around our neighborhood. It was as though they had been dog owners for years. It was Maggie who scooped up the first poop from the grass, Maggie who fed McCabe her dinner. And it was the girls' bedroom that ultimately became McCabe's hangout. Crate training made the whole thing easier, of course. McCabe willingly went into her crate each time we said, "Kennel up!" (It sounded like "cantaloupe" the first time I heard it; fortunately it was written on the instruction sheet.) Friday went so well that I was almost feeling smug. That is, until around 6:00, when Spencer called me from downstairs. "Mommy, McCabe threw up in her crate." Oh, goodie. Less than twenty-four hours on doggy duty and I have to deal with canine puke. Fortunately, she had thrown up on a towel, so I instructed Maggie to remove the towel and replace it with a fresh one. (What, you think I was going to touch it myself?) "Oh, McCabe does that sometimes," my sister-in-law told me the next day over the phone. "I guess I should have told you." No, really, it's good she didn't tell me. I may have had to come up with an excuse to bow out of the dogsitting. McCabe is truly a sweet-natured dog, though. It's impossible not to love her after you've spent a few minutes with her. And yes, she really is missing a leg. One of her hind legs was damaged while she was still in the womb, so it was removed after she was born. She's remarkably agile with her three remaining legs, though (tripod jokes notwithstanding). Considering the fact that she's so lovable, it was a bit disconcerting when, each time she saw Jonathan, she woofed and growled a bit. Not that Jonathan cared much -- he is an avowed anti-dog person (I think it has something to do with the idiot dog that lives next door, but that's another story). Eric laughed when I told him that McCabe didn't like Jonathan. Then Eric came home from work -- and McCabe woofed and growled at him, too. Not one to be defeated by a dog, Eric spent fifteen minutes on the floor with McCabe that night, and they emerged the best of friends. Eric even slept with the dog on Saturday night. (Not me. You couldn't pay me to sleep with a dog.) And yes, Eric and I took McCabe on a walk one morning. I only got tangled in the leash three times. (Can you say, "She's never walked a dog before?") And yes, I really did talk to the dog. Once I actually called myself "Mommy" whilst conversing to the pup. That's when I knew I'd spent more than enough time with her. I am not, nor will I ever be, a dog's "mommy." You know what's most interesting of all? My daughters have both proclaimed that they do not want a dog after all. "It's just too much work," Maggie said (probably because I was making her do everything). "And I hate the dog hair on my bed." Well, okay. It's not like we were seriously planning to get a dog. I think I was having Empty Womb Syndrome when I first brought up the possibility of buying an American Bullnese puppy. I'm cured. All in all, it was a magical weekend with a delightful animal. Spencer adored her. Eric bonded with her. And I pet her once or twice. McCabe seemed happy while she was with us, so I think we must've done something right. The credit for that, however, does not go to me. I am still a cat person. |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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9of my readers are feeling chatty:
Aww, she's a cutie - although is it me or does it look as though she has only two legs in that first photo?
I'd wondered whatever happened to the idea of a pekabull or the bullipoo or um, whatever.
:D
I miss McCabe. She was the sweetest dog, with the most incredible personality. I did sleep with her, she was my mate.
I am so glad that my family has FINALLY learned that they do NOT want a dog!
I always knew this....
Eric
Well I'm so thankful that you allowed Ellie Marie into your house for a day! A full day at that....I can still remember the girls taking her for a walk. I have pictures!
We use Benadryl for our Yorkies. It's a must have for pets. They can go from being ok to dead really fast with bee stings and the ingesting of some plants.
I cannot imagine NOT sleeping with my Yorkies. Sorry, I just cannot bring myself to call them dogs as they are our furkids.
I've been puked on and peed on by the little ones. It happens.
I love my cats, too. I had cats all of my life and they are a lot of fun as well. Very independent but they have their issues too and regulary puke even more so than dogs...yes, it's true Jill! Trust me.....
With that said, I will go snuggle with my sweet Yorkies tonight and I'll think of you! Muah!!!!
Kerrie -- she DOES look like a 2-legged dog in that first picture!
Sweetie -- Remember Booper? He was YOUR dog...
Leese -- I know all about cat puke. I don't miss that, either. Shoot, I can't handle HUMAN puke, let alone creature puke, whether dog or cat!
Jonathan's toads get the runs sometimes. Now THERE'S something to see!
What a cool dog indeed. Sorry, Jill, I am a dog person. We always seem to find 'left behind' dogs. We care for them until they are no more...
I am glad that you took your SIL dog in so she could have a getaway...
I s'pose I lean to the dog side, but I, like Jonathan, have been annoyed by too many of the neighborhood pests (ur... pets) to succumb to the pleas of a five-year-old and his mommy.
In the past, I have tried to rescue cats from attack from our family dog only to have the dern beasts use me for a tree, and I got all sliced up. I believe that happened three different times.
I dont like cats much.
Oh my gosh Dave. Your replies to Jill always keep me laughing...not that I was laughing at the fact that you were being used as a tree by mortified cats...uuummmm
Jillian, you sound exactly like my Mom. And she grew up on a farm!
I'm a critter lover. :)
I side with you on the whole sleeping-with thing however. I don't like finding my own hair in the bed, so fur? Double ick!
McCabe is beautiful. She has a very sweet, intelligent face.
What a cute dog who I thought at first had green spots on her until I realized it was your template background. :-)
Wendy directed me here again.
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