Another trip to Petsmart... (where pets are welcome to shop with you)
My new baby is learning the word "NO" and he has it down pat now. So my shoes are safe now, as are my throw rugs.
However, the four-legged brute managed to BREAK his new 100% genuine imitation leather harness. I promise, you, I was not dragging him or anything weird. We went for a walk and stopped at the neighbor's house and I noticed his harness looked funny. Upon close inspection, I see that it is busted! I think it suffered from dry rot. I just bought it 2 days ago, with a matching leash. But the thought that my baby could have panicked and escaped his harness while out around traffic really scared me.
Poor wittle doggy. His play buddies had gone to the veterinarian, so he was confused, and searched all over their house and yard for them.
We asked to borrow the car, (what great friends to say yes, and let me use it!) So I loaded up the baby in my old cat carrier and off to Petsmart we went to return the broken harness. This borrowed car has no air conditioning, and it's sweltering hot here in Orlando today, so my little brute had to ride in the cat carrier. He is learning so many new things so quickly. I talked sweetly to him while I was driving and he whined off and on briefly, then decided he could suffer in silence. The cat carrier is really quite roomy, considering he is so tiny.
Which, the new baby is named Harley Davidson. I call him Harley for short. He has wittle black boots on his wittle paws, so he's ready to saddle up and go for a spin. People seem to laugh, as if Harley is reserved only for the big rough and tough doggies. I thought about naming him Brutus or Brute, and that was before he busted out of his new harness.
I used to ride a Triumph motorcycle, back in the dark ages. Let's see, it was a 1977 Triumph Bonneville. My gosh, showing my years here.
Harley rode in the shopping buggie at the store, since he had no harness to wear at the end of his leash. He loved that buggie ride! Even more he ate up all the attention other people were giving him, and every time he saw another doggy, he wanted to hop out and play, play, play.
Another lady in the store, was telling me about the puppy dog she just rescued and all the things one must buy when one rescues a dog (don't I know that!) but she had left her new one home with hubby who was distraught that she wanted to take the puppy shopping with her (funny how quick we grow attached!)
We had to get a toy just like the neighbor's toy that my baby tried to steal (pirate in him too!) It's a big stuffed thing that is almost as big as he is. Then we had to get tennis balls, because at the neighbor's he learned how to play fetch and loves it. Silly me didn't buy any tennis balls Saturday, yet I know in the back of my injured head, that all dogs and boys and men etc. LOVE to play ball and this little fellow is no exception. Mind you, I did buy 3 toys off the discounted rack on Saturday. So now we have four toys and 7 tennis balls (save some back for those he might inevitably lose). Plus I am going to make him some toys. Petsmart had some tennis balls that were smaller than the typical ones, so we got those.
I decided to go with a basic black nylon harness and leash this time. We hope THAT doesn't rot out in 2 days. Petsmart took back the other offending harness and the leash. As I explained, we wanted the leash to match the harness (picky ain't we?) and the busted harness we were returning, was no good anyhow, which makes one wonder about the leash quality...since they were both made out of the same genuine imitation leather. The leash showed no wear, but I sure didn't want it anymore after the harness from the identical material broke so readily.
Last but not least, we took a look at the puppy beds. He has my bed, so he hardly needs a bed of his own. But he needs a small rug or bed, that he can be trained to "Go to Your Place" so that when we are traveling and so on, and I need him to stay put, I can tell him "Go to your place" and he knows to go sit in his special bed, no matter where I have put it. Also, when we are sitting outside under the awning, he will have his own wittle place to sit or sleep or snooze.
I once had a dog trained to her special rug, as she weighed about 100 pounds. So if I needed her to hop in her crate or stay somewhere new and unfamiliar, all I had to do was bring her rug and tell her to stay on it. She then understood this was her temporary place to be. That particular dog, in my distant past, went sailing with me on assorted boats, as well as camping in tents and cabins. She visited lots of people and her rug went everywhere with her and she was plenty happy about that. Sometimes she had to stay with a dog sitter when I went away, but the rug made it easier on her to understand "temporary" homes when we were only going to be somewhere for the weekend and so on.
All the dog beds were way too big for my tiny baby. Even the smallest bed looked ridiculous. He isn't much bigger than a rat. So over to the cat beds we went to look and found him a nice washable cozy comfy bed, a place all his own. I put it in the shopping trolley and he climbed right in, let out a big sigh and curled up in it. Then he opened his eyes, dragged his toys into it, then laid back down. It was so hilarious.
We made it through the check out, he was in his bed, with all his toys, wearing his new harness. At first he was dismayed that I was taking all his toys and bed away, so the cashier could ring them up and bag them.
In the parking lot, they have a nice grassy area for dogs, so we went for a short walk, then I loaded him and one toy, into the cat carrier and we made it home. He never whimpered or fussed. Just rode nice and quiet this time.
We returned the car and made another trip through the grass, and he seems to like the new harness and he is getting used to this leash business somewhat. I have to call him by his new name often, to coax him to walk with the leash. Sometimes he just rolls over and plays dead and waits for me to pick him up and carry him. *sigh* Who is training who here?
Back at the motorhome, I laid out his bed and toys, tossed the tennis balls around and he was ecstatic to see that all his nifty things had come home with him. Then he collapsed in the floor, under a chair and promptly went to sleep.
I've got a million things to do today to repair the motorhome and hit the road tomorrow. I am exhausted too, but it's time to put on my repair hat and get busy.
My new baby is learning the word "NO" and he has it down pat now. So my shoes are safe now, as are my throw rugs.
However, the four-legged brute managed to BREAK his new 100% genuine imitation leather harness. I promise, you, I was not dragging him or anything weird. We went for a walk and stopped at the neighbor's house and I noticed his harness looked funny. Upon close inspection, I see that it is busted! I think it suffered from dry rot. I just bought it 2 days ago, with a matching leash. But the thought that my baby could have panicked and escaped his harness while out around traffic really scared me.
Poor wittle doggy. His play buddies had gone to the veterinarian, so he was confused, and searched all over their house and yard for them.
We asked to borrow the car, (what great friends to say yes, and let me use it!) So I loaded up the baby in my old cat carrier and off to Petsmart we went to return the broken harness. This borrowed car has no air conditioning, and it's sweltering hot here in Orlando today, so my little brute had to ride in the cat carrier. He is learning so many new things so quickly. I talked sweetly to him while I was driving and he whined off and on briefly, then decided he could suffer in silence. The cat carrier is really quite roomy, considering he is so tiny.
Which, the new baby is named Harley Davidson. I call him Harley for short. He has wittle black boots on his wittle paws, so he's ready to saddle up and go for a spin. People seem to laugh, as if Harley is reserved only for the big rough and tough doggies. I thought about naming him Brutus or Brute, and that was before he busted out of his new harness.
I used to ride a Triumph motorcycle, back in the dark ages. Let's see, it was a 1977 Triumph Bonneville. My gosh, showing my years here.
Harley rode in the shopping buggie at the store, since he had no harness to wear at the end of his leash. He loved that buggie ride! Even more he ate up all the attention other people were giving him, and every time he saw another doggy, he wanted to hop out and play, play, play.
Another lady in the store, was telling me about the puppy dog she just rescued and all the things one must buy when one rescues a dog (don't I know that!) but she had left her new one home with hubby who was distraught that she wanted to take the puppy shopping with her (funny how quick we grow attached!)
We had to get a toy just like the neighbor's toy that my baby tried to steal (pirate in him too!) It's a big stuffed thing that is almost as big as he is. Then we had to get tennis balls, because at the neighbor's he learned how to play fetch and loves it. Silly me didn't buy any tennis balls Saturday, yet I know in the back of my injured head, that all dogs and boys and men etc. LOVE to play ball and this little fellow is no exception. Mind you, I did buy 3 toys off the discounted rack on Saturday. So now we have four toys and 7 tennis balls (save some back for those he might inevitably lose). Plus I am going to make him some toys. Petsmart had some tennis balls that were smaller than the typical ones, so we got those.
I decided to go with a basic black nylon harness and leash this time. We hope THAT doesn't rot out in 2 days. Petsmart took back the other offending harness and the leash. As I explained, we wanted the leash to match the harness (picky ain't we?) and the busted harness we were returning, was no good anyhow, which makes one wonder about the leash quality...since they were both made out of the same genuine imitation leather. The leash showed no wear, but I sure didn't want it anymore after the harness from the identical material broke so readily.
Last but not least, we took a look at the puppy beds. He has my bed, so he hardly needs a bed of his own. But he needs a small rug or bed, that he can be trained to "Go to Your Place" so that when we are traveling and so on, and I need him to stay put, I can tell him "Go to your place" and he knows to go sit in his special bed, no matter where I have put it. Also, when we are sitting outside under the awning, he will have his own wittle place to sit or sleep or snooze.
I once had a dog trained to her special rug, as she weighed about 100 pounds. So if I needed her to hop in her crate or stay somewhere new and unfamiliar, all I had to do was bring her rug and tell her to stay on it. She then understood this was her temporary place to be. That particular dog, in my distant past, went sailing with me on assorted boats, as well as camping in tents and cabins. She visited lots of people and her rug went everywhere with her and she was plenty happy about that. Sometimes she had to stay with a dog sitter when I went away, but the rug made it easier on her to understand "temporary" homes when we were only going to be somewhere for the weekend and so on.
All the dog beds were way too big for my tiny baby. Even the smallest bed looked ridiculous. He isn't much bigger than a rat. So over to the cat beds we went to look and found him a nice washable cozy comfy bed, a place all his own. I put it in the shopping trolley and he climbed right in, let out a big sigh and curled up in it. Then he opened his eyes, dragged his toys into it, then laid back down. It was so hilarious.
We made it through the check out, he was in his bed, with all his toys, wearing his new harness. At first he was dismayed that I was taking all his toys and bed away, so the cashier could ring them up and bag them.
In the parking lot, they have a nice grassy area for dogs, so we went for a short walk, then I loaded him and one toy, into the cat carrier and we made it home. He never whimpered or fussed. Just rode nice and quiet this time.
We returned the car and made another trip through the grass, and he seems to like the new harness and he is getting used to this leash business somewhat. I have to call him by his new name often, to coax him to walk with the leash. Sometimes he just rolls over and plays dead and waits for me to pick him up and carry him. *sigh* Who is training who here?
Back at the motorhome, I laid out his bed and toys, tossed the tennis balls around and he was ecstatic to see that all his nifty things had come home with him. Then he collapsed in the floor, under a chair and promptly went to sleep.
I've got a million things to do today to repair the motorhome and hit the road tomorrow. I am exhausted too, but it's time to put on my repair hat and get busy.
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