Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Hot Dog, Not Much to Blog

Clearly blogging is not my thing; it's been three months since I last posted, although I have been twittering a lot over the last few days:  it's quick, easy, and cuts out the crap, or the need to make real sense.

Since I last blogged, our cute little puppy has become a real 'hot dog' and is quite the catch in our neighborhood.  At Christmas, we volunteered to look after Monty, a wire-haired dachshund puppy, while his 'folks' went back to England for the holidays; unfortunately, and you couldn't have planned this, Mitzie decided to come into season the very first morning after he arrived.  It was a mess.  He was on a humpathon and she was a little splodgy to say the least. Vet's advice?  Separate them immediately. So, before Monty's poor parents had even landed back in Blighty, and we had whisked him off to the kennels.  

The real fun came next.  Three and a half weeks of hell including 17 days of bleeding, profusely at times, with traces of the Mitzter left all over the house, and then a week of her humping anything that moved, usually best (bitch) friend Venus's head, side, bottom, leg... you get the picture.  She went from clingy and lovable to ferocious and aggressive on the turn of a dime (sound familiar to many men???) but has emerged from the process much better than when she went in!

She has developed quite a personality, which now includes regularly demanding attention by using the 'paw' method, or nosing her way into your affections, or quite the shrill bark!  She is enamored by her Poppy who constantly feeds her tidbits from the sofa, table, and kitchen.  In fact, on Christmas Day she passed out in a turkey coma having hovered at his feet for the best part of the day during the cooking of dinner.  She can be VERY stubborn and sulky and quite a nightmare to guests and friends that she doesn't take kindly to but has a strange vetting method - workmen are ok, friends not so, especially men, or children without shoes.  Or just children...  And bicycles and motorbikes are a no-no.  We have caused many a near accident while out on a walk as an unsuspecting cyclist swerves to avoid ferocious dachshund!

Being overly cautious and having NO experience with 'hot dogs' I visited the vet a couple of times during 'the season' (thanks for his patience, although he must think I am nuts...) firstly to check whether she'd been 'had' by Monty (tests under a microscope showed doubtful, complete with her squealing when the vet inserted the 'tools' necessary for a smear test) and secondly to check whether it could really go on for soooooo long.  It can and it did.  

Next visit to the vet will be for a little operation.  I cannot imagine having a female dog, that you didn't plan to breed, without having it spayed.  Although they only come into season twice a year, it was a nightmare, particularly living in a city with 25,000 stray dogs, most of which seemed to arrive at our gate every night (3am anyone?) howling and crying for Mitzie.  For the most part, she wasn't interested, but it didn't stop the constant stream.

As luck would have it for us, but not little Monty's mom and dad, they are returning to England and we are to become his proud parents.  He and Mitzie seem to get along, although she has to remind him to stop humping her and gets very possessive about her turf, and I'm sure it will get better once they've BOTH had an operation!!!

I am counting down the days to becoming a puppy momma to two little critters and hoping that it will be twice the fun, not twice the work!