Things are settling in a bit with Pierre and the crew. I am learning to better manage everyone, and he is learning the ropes pretty quickly considering how little I suspect he’s experienced this type of environment before. He is learning to sit before he gets pretty much anything–his dinner, treats, to go out the door or gate, the back of the car, etc. It seems to be working.
And he is truly hilarious—his little wheels turn incredibly fast and I can just see him processing info with all his might, the neurons in there firing, bouncing and exploding. Its like he has a little thought bubble over his head that I can read. Yesterday it was feeding time and I was trying to get the dogs to their respective beds/mats so that I could put the bowls down and then release everyone. While I was dealing with Diego and Forest, I look over my shoulder towards the kitchen where Pierre is staring mesmerized at his bowl, throwing determined sits at it as if he could magically release it on his own. He makes me laugh out loud quite often.
This morning we got up at the crack of dawn to get up and go to the dog park before it got crowded. Mission accomplished–when you get to the dog park at 6:40am, there arent too many others there. The Laguna Beach Dog Park is dog heaven, at least when its empty. They ran and climbed the hill and tuckered themselves out without too much interaction with other dogs. They tend to get a pack mentality going and gang up on other dogs, so for the most part I have been avoiding the dog park entirely in hoping to not get that bad habit ingrained. We’ll stay on the uber-early or almost dark program when we need to burn off some steam. I am learning that its all about making the right decisions to set these guys up for success.
However, Pierre of course cannot exist without making me tear my hair out in some manner… On Tuesday AM I took the dogs to the beach, against my better judgement. They needed to run, but I was concerned about the trash factor as it was the day after Memorial weekend and I knew it would be bad. Well I was right. My sister was with me, and we spent the entire time trying to keep all three dogs from eating trash. Fun times. Pierre managed to sneak into one of the caves that is blocked off by a metal grate so that people cannot get up into the caves. When the tide comes in, trash washes up into the back of the cave and lays there festering until it is washed out again. Festering contained trash equals delectable delights to all three of my dogs. Pierre was merrily chowing around in there and there was nothing I could do to get him out. Fortunately he does actually listen—somewhat—and I got him out of there after about 90 seconds.
I went home and tried to induce vomiting with a small does of hydogen peroxide, to no avail. I was kind of freaking because A) he is not mine, and B) I was extra gun shy after my coworkers incident with her golden. So… off to the vet for Xrays. No fish hooks or bottle tops and an Rx of white bread and olive oil for the next 24 hours. At 4am the next morning he did barf up some huge pieces of what looked like laminated cardboard and some fabric. Charming. But, we seem to be in the clear.
Yesterday at work he overturned two drinks ON my desk, soaking everything in their path, except for thankfully my laptop. Sigh. He has some interested parties via friends, so I hope we can find him his place soon… We are all exhausted I think.
My first private with new trainer tomorrow AM. Looking forward to it…