I Thought My Dog was Normal...

For a long time, I really thought Arrow was a normal dog. I never had a dog before her (unless you count "Pork chop" a yappy Chihuahua who I had as a 11 year old and lasted in our family maybe 3 weeks) so I really didn't have a reference point for what dogs are like. I had heard some horror stories about dogs who jumped out windows, ate the linoleum, or caused complete chaos in their homes. But those stories were out of the ordinary so for all my years of having Arrow, I considered her normal.

But over the years we have gotten to spend quite a bit of time with "real dogs." Currently, with Buttons living with us, we are once again reminded of how our dog is --- well, how do I say it...odd!

Now to set the stage, I have to say that Buttons is a GREAT dog! She is totally well trained (good job Kathy and Minh), expressive, and cute as a...well...button. But she is more like a "real dog" than Arrow. Here are some examples:

We were instructed to give Buttons a very thin rolled up (maybe even compressed?) rawhide to eat when we sit down to dinner. This would keep her from staring at us and give her something to do. So they gave us several of these sticks and so far, each night at dinner, we have given one to Buttons and one to Arrow. Buttons, like a real dog, gets hers down in about 5 minutes flat. She chews it up like it is candy and then its gone. You hardly even noticed that she was chewing.

Arrow on the other hand, doesn't take the stick directly in her mouth. She sniffs it, thinks about it, and then looks at you wondering if there is something better coming. When your arm gets tired from holding it in front of her nose, you finally drop it on her bed and let her take it on when she's good and ready. She places the stick between her paws and starts the process of daintily chewing on the stick. By the end, she starts chewing, and chewing, louder and louder, then--the snorting sounds start. It sounds as if she just got rawhide down her windpipe. Then the choking motion happens followed by a cough in which a piece of rawhide inevitably comes up from being lodged down her throat. Convinced she is going to choke to death we go to take it from her and she finally is able to swallow it down. Her skinny rawhide days are over!

While we're on the topic of treats, I can add that as soon as Buttons hears a bag crinkle or a cabinet door open, she is in the kitchen standing so close to me that I have to catch my balance or I might fall on top of her. She is game to eat anything. In fact, in some ways she was easy to train because Kathy would ask her if she wanted a treat and she would run right over to her. All very normal dog behavior.

Arrow on the other hand will not be bribed with treats. In fact, the treat has to be pretty darn special for her to be bothered to open her mouth. Many times, I have put a treat in front of her and she would either turn her head and disregard me or put it in her mouth only to drop it as soon as I stepped away, abandoning the treat for good. If I yell "treat" to her, she could care less. She loves peanut butter and I've been putting her pain meds in peanut butter so she would swallow those right down. But each day, I'd place the peanut butter under her nose and she would turn her head as if she really didn't like peanut butter much. You might say, well she didn't like it because she knew it had the pill in it. But the reality is, Buttons would become a prescription drug addict to be able to eat that peanut butter. Our routine was, she would turn her head and I would remind her that she LOVES peanut butter and is just playing hard to get. Finally she'd remember that I was telling the truth and eat it right up. What kind of lab is not food motivated?? That has always been a mystery to me.

When I put Buttons' food down in front of her, she eats it up in a heart beat. It is gone probably within 3 minutes. Arrow, leisurely strolls over to her bowl, take a few bites, looks up, looks around, takes a few more bites. In some ways, she tortures poor Buttons who has finished her meal and is staring at Arrow just hoping she would walk away from her bowl. I think Buttons is calculating how long it would take her to finish Arrow's bowl, "I would only need 6 seconds!" Yesterday, Sally's comment while Buttons was eating: "It's funny to see how a 'real dog' eats."

When we wake up in the morning, our routine is to shower, go downstairs, eat breakfast, and have a slow morning. We take Arrow out for a walk, and then when we're back, we feed her. Buttons, with her small bladder, is kind of pacing, trying to decide if she wants us to feed her first or let her out to pee. The first morning we had her it took us a fair amount of time to figure out she was actually asking to go out to pee-- again, something most dogs get trained to do and then become proficient at.

Not Arrow. She rarely asks to go out. We can sleep for 10 hours, come downstairs, take another two hours to putter around, and she just sits there. Sometimes, I've even opened the door for her because I'm sure her little bladder must be killing her. She goes on the deck or in the lawn and just lies there--maybe she'll roll around in the grass. But she won't pee. She wants company for her bathroom break and will wait for Sally or I to join her.

But I guess it is unfair for someone who is far from normal to expect as much from her dog. Both Sally and I are pretty darn quirky and perhaps that's why our funny little yellow dog fits right in!