As Sparky was patrolling the back yard, I thought I’d have a beer and enjoy the evening. Sparky spilled my beer as he was attempting an innovative new way to get on my lap. He drank some of it.
Category: Sparky (Page 6 of 13)
When we went outside for the last time of the night, Sparky was pensive. Not eager to pursue, but concerned and observant. Something was out there, and he wasn’t sure what.
Sparky didn’t think it was prudent to take a dump, so we came inside. To minimize wet footprints all over the house, I send him to his crate to wipe his feet. Sparky wouldn’t go in his crate. He likes his crate, taking naps in there and going in prior to every meal. That was odd.
This morning, I was curious for Sparky to investigate the grounds. He told me about the coyotes, so I documented his report.
Sparky’s gut was making extraordinarily loud gurgling noises last night. Loud enough that it was audible, 10 feet away, with my CPAP on. When I’m asleep, Sparky has limited options to resolve an urgent intestinal issue. He wouldn’t dream of barking or howling to wake me up. If the situation were dire, he might make some decisions that, in the morning, I’d find appalling.
We stayed up and talked for a while, then he went outside to eat some grass. His situation has improved today, but we haven’t come to a consensus on the cause of the problem.
Sparky insists that since he has completed his course of antibiotics, his gut hasn’t adapted to the lack of peanut butter and gravy in his food.
I believe that Sparky should stop eating rotten garbage that he finds in the woods.
Sparky tolerates a bath, but he doesn’t see the point.
Just another picture of Sparky enjoying a car ride.
Sparky keeps hoping that I’ll come out of the store with a can of Pringles or a slim jim.
Sparky takes umbrage at being told he has to cut weight.
He accused me of fat-shaming him. I was, so that line of argument wasn’t persuasive.
He said that he was just big-boned. I explained that his bones didn’t get bigger in a month.
He has been packing on muscle from fighting that coyote and running down rabbits. I reminded him that he prefers baby snatching to bunny chasing.
I’m not making excuses when I say that it’s not his fault that he’s been packing it on. Well, except for eating babies and garbage he finds in the woods. That’s on him. Sparky has been on doxycycline all month after our vet visit.
Sparky is averse to taking pills, so measures were taken to hide the antibiotic. The capsule is dipped in peanut butter, then mixed in with his dog food. A bit of gravy is dripped on the capsule blob and the rest of his dog food. The success rate is about 95%. Last time he was on doxy, it was about 60%.
Sparky is a sap for love, so he wanted me to take a photo.
Look, I don’t spend all my time screwing around with Sparky, but I’m not going to post about cutting the grass, changing the oil or doing the laundry. Nobody cares about politics because our current president has dementia, and Trump will be elected or the deep state will cheat sufficiently to elect a diversity candidate. No new movies or TV shows seem worthy of comment and I’m deep into a science fiction book series that isn’t boring enough to quit or interesting enough to care too much.
Rather than open my mail or pay bills, Sparky and I went for a long walk that included a visit to the tree fort. Joe and I built it 20 years ago as a deer blind and it seems to be holding up well.
When I was a kid, we used to roam around in the woods and play at the old boy scout camp. We called it that, but who knows if that’s what it was. Now, at some point, neighborhood kids were sneaking up into my deer blind. They didn’t leave any trash laying around, so I don’t care. Plus, that must have been years ago.
Sparky is in bad dog jail for insubordination.
In the woods, right behind his dog house, Sparky found a clutch of baby rabbits. Prior to relieving himself, Sparky sniffs around a little bit and probes the edge of the woods. He stuck his head into the brush, his back legs were still on the lawn, and came out with a baby bunny in his mouth.
This is his fifth baby bunny. Watching him, it seemed like a fat guy who cheats on his diet by hiding Girl Scout cookies all over the house. Sparky goes to this spot all the time, so it looks like the rabbits are setting him up.
Sparky is a baby-snatcher. That is known. This time, Sparky did the math. Would I pry his mouth open before he could swallow it? I told him to drop it, Sparky turned his head and chomped a little. We went through that routine a few times, then it was gone. Insubordination cannot be tolerated.
When Sparky is free-roaming and pokes into the woods, I call him if he is in too long. I wonder if it would be better not to call him out. Sparky would back out when he’s done eating. I have little sympathy for the rabbits. They have to evolve more robust maternal instincts. I wouldn’t think that baby bunnies are bad for him. I can’t be sure he’s eating babies, is in a stand-off with a skunk or found a carcass.
Sparky is always thinking, but he’s got a dog brain.
Sparky was free-roaming while I was stacking wood. He had been investigating a big bush, similar to the one shown behind him. His anchor got caught up in the multiple stems at the base of the plant. That happens, so Sparky was waiting patiently, knowing that I would save him.
His leash was a crazy Gordian knot, so I had to lie on my belly to really get in there. Sparky was sitting at the end of his leash, about six feet away. As soon as I was on the ground, with my head under the low branches, he walked over and sat between my legs. Sparky wasn’t trying to help or getting in close to watch, he just sat there.
Lying prone, legs are needed for maneuvering. As my legs wiggled around to get me positioned, he remained. It wasn’t clear what Sparky was trying to accomplish, so I shot a few blind photos.
Sparky likes free-roaming and likes being rescued. He thinks that letting me rescue him, gives me a meaningful way to contribute to our relationship. Apparently I crave that sense of accomplishment. Sparky should be smiling. Why does he look so sullen?
Sparky has reliable responses to a few of my actions. I’ve mentioned these before. If I put my pants on and grab my car keys, he thinks we are going on a car ride and stands by the door. If I sit on a chair, he comes over to give me the opportunity to pull him on to my lap. If I sit on the floor, ground or deck, with my legs splayed, he comes over to sit in close, between my legs, so we can talk about the day, get some snuggling in or look for ticks.
I think that’s what he’s doing here. Dog brain sees two legs, on the ground, spread apart a little. Sparky is expecting some quality time, and for some reason, I won’t look at him or give him any attention.
Sparky figured out his error, but his reputation for correct action is important to his self-image. He is a concerned that I will notice how he misjudged the situation, and won’t hold him in such high regard. That could diminish his free-roaming privileges or his future prospects of having rotisserie chicken.
With that much on the line, it’s easy to see why Sparky was morose. I didn’t bust his chops or call him out. He’s my buddy, so I acted like I didn’t notice.
Living with Sparkles is not all beer and skittles.
No matter what Sparky is doing, if I sit in a comfortable chair, he will come over and put his paws up on the cushion. Sparky wants to sit on my lap, but sometimes, I just want to put on my shoes.
Sparky puts one paw up like he’s some kind of Purple Heart wounded hero dog. Then he tilts his head like a liberal. His last trick is to avert his eyes like a Charles Dickens street waif. It’s way too much.
After teaching for 25 years, I’ve got a black and flinty heart, so I can resist, but it’s a near thing.