A trip down memory lane...

FIRST, here is the promised picture of poor gimpy Remus the day after his surgery. Notice the giant bandaid on his belly and the fentanyl patch on his sides. Both adhesives that had to be removed two days later, ouch. Also notice how close they shaved him, so close they nicked him in several places, especially around his elbow. At least his head cone is clear, the other one we have for him is opaque white.

Now I figured we'd take a trip down memory lane. I've got to try and stay awake a few more hours before sleeping before work, so this'll keep me occupied as well as anything else. I suppose I should wait until Remus is at least a year old, though he's not supposed to stop growing until 18 months, but he'll be 9 months tomorrow and thats halfway done, so good enough. I will continue to reiterate that Remus for the most part, does not seem like a big dog to me. On the contrary, he's about average, I hope he grows a little more even. Only every once in awhile am I struck by the fact that other people must consider him large. When I'm walking him, for instance, and I hold his collar without extending my arm, when he sticks his head on the counters without getting on his back legs, when he DOES get on his back legs and he is fast approaching taller than me. THEN I think, hmm, mayhaps he is a bit tall... intimidating he is not, but tall, I submit, is accurate. Enough rambling, on to pictures! He was so LITTLE at one point!

Look at his cute little "sit"! He does not know what to make of Brian or the moose toy.

My big baby! Approx 100lbs and almost 9mo :)

Eating my foot....

Still eating my foot....

The spider is almost bigger than he is...

Now spider is sans legs, sans stuffing, sans squeakers, and has only one eye...

Thats all I have for now :)

Really?

Remus has Athlete's Foot. Apparently going from cast to bandage and basically having his foot in a sock for over two weeks can cause fungus. So even though I should be able to remove his collar since his stitches are finally out, I can't because he keeps trying to eat his foot. I dutifully went to the grocery store to try and find a spray antifungal for his burning tootsie and it's a good thing the Vet had given me a plan B because all I found in FoodLions First Aid section was a lonely can of Jock Itch relief, tucked embarrasedly on the far edge of a shelf behind a hanging display of bandaids. I'm wondering what kind of excuses people use when they buy Jock Itch Relief, I'm pretty sure "It's for my puppy. No seriously, he has Athlete's foot." Is one they don't hear every day...Perhaps it treats the same fungus, but I wasn't sure, so I picked up some Listerine and Baby oil (Plan B) and left.  I dutifully poured one cap of Listerine and one cap of water into a bowl and soaked Remus's itchy foot for a few seconds. The baby oil is in case it dries out.

It gets better. So I'm feeling all sympathetic for Remus's plight, I've never had athletes foot but just the fact that I can no longer leave the head cone off at all is sorely dampening his puppy spirits. Being a concerned pet owner, I therefore decide maybe we should tie Remus out on the porch when we leave to go for a quick run instead of leaving him inside. Change of sights and smells and all that, he seems to like being outside. We've never had problems leaving him tied up before with the cone on, so we don't anticipate any problems now. Well, about 1.5 hours later we return and I look at the porch expecting to see Remus straining at the end of his leash to watch us pull in. He doesn't even get up. As we pull into the driveway, we realize it's not for lack of trying, Remus WANTS to get up, but he can't. Why? Because the genius dog  managed to hog tie himself. I don't know how he managed it, but the leash was securely wrapped around his L front and L back foot and he lifted and head and thumped his tail like mad, but he was unable to get off his side. I put him out of his misery before running inside to get a camera, but I've attempted a brief sketch in paint to illustrate his dilemna.

Not gonna lie, Brian and I laughed pretty hard when we saw it, but I untangled him right away and I don't think he suffered any long term harm. Shoot, he wasn't even embarrased, he was geniunely confused as to why he couldn't stand up.  Note to self, don't leave Remus outside on a leash....

P.S. he's now 96lbs :)

Imperfections

I am not a perfect pet owner. There are times when the thought of beating Remus senseless gives me perverse pleasure. I am trying to make this whole "restricted activity" as painless as possible for the puppy, and yes, I know, he has no clue whats going on....but still! Instead of keeping him crated 24/7, I have used his leash to tie him to his crate so he has a greater radius of space. He can get in and out of his crate, get to his food and water, sprawl out on the carpet, the works. No, it's not as much space as he usually haves, but he's not supposed to play AT ALL or run or even walk fast. I ALSO try to keep the head cone off as often as possible (as long as he shows no inclination to chew on his bandage) so that he can enjoy eating, drinking, and chewing on his bone without that giant cumbersome plastic satellite dish in the way. So what does he do? He chewed through his leash.

Now, before people start asuming he did so to "free himself", Remus is not that intelligent. The leash was severed. Completely. Did the puppy then make a wild break for it and dash through the living room? No, he continued to chew on the leash.  And chew. And chew. And chew. Laying down, perfectly content in shredding his own means of limited freedom. Once we noticed, he got a smack on the nose an emphatic "stupid dog!" from Brian and crate confinement for the rest of the night. He gets crate confinement for most of tomorrow, too, and depending on how generous I'm feeling he might have crate confinement until thursday when his bandage comes off. And crate confinement means that collar stays on as well. BUH! It makes me want to kick him! I mean not really...well, yes, kind of....more like just strangle his awkward scrawny little neck until he has some sense!

I know, it's irrational to assume he'll ever be intelligent enough to link that complex of an idea together (Idea: Surgery, I'm on limited activity, this leash is better than the crate, therefore I should not chew it...) but it makes me so frustrated! Other things that make me frustrated? His limited attention span. His occasional refusing to follow commands. His WHINING! The fact that all these things make me angry and I hate being angry!

I'm not angry now, I've had wine. Wine tends to make me more inclined to giggle then to yell. But tomorrow I'm going to PetsMart and buying him a thick heavy chain. With spikes on it. Lets see if he can chew through that! Also, I'm going to brush his teeth. HA! He should be properly contrite (AKA, oblivious) by the time I'm done with him...

Paramedic-ish-ness

Supposedly this blog is all about Remus, but I can't help but interject posts on other areas of my life because as much as I fawn over my irrascible hound he is not the only thing that occupies my time. Usually when I write about my job the rants succeed only in venting of my frustration at the ugly or stupid side of humanity that I run in to repeatedly. This post should have a more cheerful tone, even if the subject matter is slightly morbid.

Saturday night suffered a rash of violence, and I and my partner where staffing an additional truck to provide additional coverage in an area of high call volume. I had two calls of significance; one that resulted in the pt being placed on a vent and very likely brain damaged and the other pronounced dead as soon as I dropped him off at the ED. (I was annoyed by the disinclination of the doctor to even attempt to continue the rescue efforts, but that is a different story entirely). Instead of feeling depressed by the events, I went home feeling gratified and pleased that for one night I actually was allowed to perform the job I had been trained to perform. It might seem strange to be satisfied over my luck in having two calls that were actually emergent, but it was a much needed relief from the dullness of taxi-ing the stupid to the waiting room. I have been trained to identify and treat emergencies, it was wonderfully rewarding to do so.  I won't deny it was also a boost to my confidence level. From feeling the stupidest and worst of paramedics due to my own inexperience and everyone elses' easy confidence, to handle such calls, and to bring up objections from intuition that proved to be correct as the calls progressed, made me feel I had risen at least a step up from the bottom of the heap. There is still a very great deal that I need to not necessarily learn, but to solidify in my own understanding, so that the knowledge is easily and instinctively acted on. I am glad that I am making progress, however, and at times when I see that I have helped and/or at least provided every medical attempt possible under the circumstances, the work is not as unbearable or overwhelming as it was initially.

Also, I just finished reading "Pride and Prejiduce" and cannot help but laugh at the effect it has had on my writing. Remus is still gimpy but considerably less inclined to whine the day away since the removal of the Fentanyl patch and the replacing of his pain medication with Tordol instead. Brian graduates from Psyop training this Friday and I am permenantly on night shift.

Lap dogs...

Everyonce in awhile I wonder what it'd be like to have a nice small dog I can tuck in a box on car trips and then calmly carry around when we visit new places. Nope, I had to get a giant, whining, farting, snorting puppy who THINKS he's still a lap dog. That said, today he discovered rolly chairs...more specifically, he discovered they roll when he tries to stand on them.

I got to the vet early to fill out paper work for the credit card that will allow us no interest on Remus's surgery for the first 6 months. The vet tech very cheerfully escorted me beyond the counter to fill out the application on one of the office computers to make less paperwrok for everyone. Remus, who was already whining because he hadn't eaten since last night around 5pm, was turning circles and sniffing everything since he was in a new place. AND like he always does when we're at a vet office, he promptly tried to climb in my lap. The lap climb progresses in stages. First, he stands in front of me and stretches his head out on my lap, then he sits back and pants in my face for a few moments. This is followed by one paw on the leg, and then a heave and both paws on my legs, his head facing me and him enthusiastically licking my face, glasses, and hair. He then realizes in this position he can't see anything EXCEPT for me, so to protect his rear he shuffles around and gets his as much of his upperbody as possible resting in my lap. It's a lot of dog, and not a lot of lap. At the lillington vet they have benches and a few times Remus has managed to get his rear onto the bench and he stays very squished on me and the bench until the doctor or techs come in.

Today I let Remus attempt the lap climb once, bracing my feet on the floor to keep my chair from moving. The second time I did it, I waitied till he was standing with both paws on my legs and I simply picked up my feet. Remus walk/rolled me to the other side of the desk looking very confused and jumping down pretty quickly. He gave me and the chair dirty looks, but made no attempt to get up again. Later, I was talking to the tech holding Remus's leash and another tech walked in. Remus promptly rolled me back across the space before I realized what he was doing and put my feet on the floor. That dog cart idea just might work for Emma...

Smelliness

Remus has finally started growing into his full gassy potential. For awhile, as a young puppy, he never seemed to let stinkers, like, literally, he didn't fart. His poop was smelly enough to knock over a cow, but he did not have any gas producing tendencies. Well, the little puppy is fully in the adolescent phase and with growth comes farts apparently. From no farts to fart master in under a month. He now not only passes gas frequently and consistently (aka, every time he lays down) but the potency is lethal and I swear smellable within a three mile radius. When he is lying directly at your feet it's hard not to gag. We have made no food changes that correspond with the increased flatulance, so the only thing I can figure is he's reached the growth equivelent of a teenage boy. Ah the joys of pet ownership. Time to put my flatulating puppy to bed, surgery bright and early tomorrow morning...

Christmas Shenanigans

Ok, so it's been awhile since I've posted but the Holidays were exhausting as always. I really don't like the holidays, not anymore. There is very little true wonder and joy and far to many stupid parties and stress. We survived. Remus helped keep spirits light hearted with his new found love of wrapping paper. He eagerly helped everyone unwrap their gifts-whether help was needed or not- and then proceeded to shred the paper into tiny bits. The 82lb wolfie left a whirlwind of destruction in his wake, but he was just too darn cute to do anything about it.

We actually drove home on Christmas Eve because I worked Christmas (joy) which wasn't horrible I guess since I got double pay, but I'd of rather not. The day after Christmas we woke up to this:

As much as Remus hates bath time, he loves snow. He chased and dug and burrowed and generally romped in the stuff every time we let him outside. He'd come back in with little snowballs stuck all over his legs.

A few days after New Years I took him to the orthopedic vet in Cary and it was determined that he should have surgery to fix his L front leg. Apparently some cartilage in his Ulna never hardened into bone, meaning the Ulna isn't growing like it should and it's forcing the Radius to curve (making Remus walk like a duck). The surgery should remedy the strain on the Radius and I am relieved to know it was nothing I did, since I have been trying so hard to prevent a foreleg issue. It's going to create a little bit of a strain on our finances though and a definite strain on Brian's good feelings towards pet ownership, but it seems the best decision we can make.

Remus is still a goof, currently whining for me to let him inside. I don't answer to whining so if he'd be quiet for 10 minutes I'll let him in. If not, he'll just have to wait. He came with to visit Nick and RebEmma for probably the last time in awhile since next time I go to Charlotte RebEmma will hopefully be two different people :) I think a wolfhound plus infant is a little much to deal with. So excited about being an Aunt!!!! The nursery is finished and despite my earlier woes I think it turned out pretty well :) I hope Emma enjoys it. I'll try to be better about updating...