Category: Sparky (Page 41 of 45)

Sparky is on the injured reserve list.

Today seemed like a good day for a Moose Run.  That’s where Mr. Moose is tethered to a Traxxas Maxx RC car.  Sparky chases Mr. Moose as I relax on the deck.  After a couple of laps, Sparky broke off pursuit and was limping.

There are no ticks, thorns, abrasions or other signs of injury on his front left leg or paw.  He doesn’t wince if I move his leg.  He mostly limps, but can put weight on it.

As expected, Sparky doesn’t seem to mind.  He’d prefer to resume normal activities with limping left to his discretion.  He will be on limited activity, and we’ll see how he is tomorrow.  That’s what I’d do for myself, so that seems fair.

I figure that dogs are susceptible to most of the same injuries as people, with allowances for their different anatomy.  A pulled muscle seems most likely.

Alum Creek State Park is 15 minutes away from IKEA in Columbus.  My travel trailer is a toyhauler, so has a loading ramp.  I took advantage of that happy coincidence to buy a new couch.  I bought my last couch at the Pittsburgh IKEA when I moved into Dover Farms apartments.  That was after my first year teaching at Normandy, so 27 years ago.  Time flies.

When I sold my Cleveland Heights house, I sold all my furniture.  That house was built in 1930, and had many vintage accoutrements.  The modern oak furniture would have been too bulky and massive for a contemporary apartment.  Dover Farms was a nice, modern apartment complex, so I wanted my furniture to be compatible.  IKEA was a revelation. 

I brought most of my furniture to this house, and supplemented with more from IKEA.  Buying furniture is a tedious chore, but going to IKEA is fun.  I know that no part of my house will ever look like those display rooms at IKEA, but I can’t help trying.

Because Sparky has a bohemian disregard for modesty, the image was censored for propriety.  Sparky doesn’t agree.  That’s just how he likes to watch TV, and people should accept him for who he is.

What do people have against Monday mornings?  The sun is shining, my coffee is hot and Sparky has Mr. Moose right where he wants him.

Sparky is distracted by some promising news.  Chipmunks have been spotted operating near the house.

Sparky is mortified that I’m telling this story.

Ticks are bad this year.  Sparky is treated with Frontline Plus, but that kills ticks after they bite and, hopefully, before any pathogens are transmitted.  I prefer to get any ticks before they bite Sparky or me, so I watch for any signs.

Sparky had a bath today, which he doesn’t enjoy, so I wanted to give him some extra quality time.  When we sit on the floor watching TV, Sparky likes to snuggle up.  We were nice and comfy when Sparky set to licking his undercarriage.  Not that unusual, but he had to stand up to squirm around so he could really get in there.  That seemed rather vulgar for a gentleman like Sparky.

I got him to lay down, then I rolled him over.  I didn’t see anything at first, then I found a tick on the end of his dick.  Seeing a wretched little tick, with those pointy barbed legs, crawling around on his little soft pink spot, made me shiver.

Sparky wasn’t sure what I was playing at, but when I removed the tick, he was relieved.  The photo above is from shortly afterward.  No need for a photo of the tick in action.  That mental image will haunt me.

When I was in the hospital recently, my brother and sister-in-law had Sparky.  My brother texted pictures and video of Sparky so I didn’t worry about him. 

Having a dog is a wonderful thing.  I’m okay alone, but having a dog is better.

That night when I first took ill, Sparky laid in his living room bed, half-asleep, but ready to move.  He dreams when he is really out, and sprawls on his bed.  He didn’t know what was wrong with me, and didn’t know how to help.

My brother reported that Sparky was fine, but was getting too old to chase after Mr. Moose.  I knew that Sparky was worried about me.

When my brother brought me home, he offered to go fetch Sparky, and bring him to my house.  I thought it would be better if I drove out to pick Sparky up.  He loves a car ride and that would be the easiest way to let him know everything was fine.  When I got to his house, Sparky gave me the whole, Youtube, soldier returning home treatment.  Nobody has ever been that happy to see me.

Once we were home, Sparky was happier than ever.  He likes to lay on my belly as I watch TV.  That’s the photo above.  He did have trouble sleeping.  When Sparky sleeps, he usually dreams of chasing ducks and makes low woof-woof noises.  That night, the ducks were chasing him and he was making whiny noises.  It took him a couple of days to get over it.  Since then, Sparky takes more pleasure in the little things.  He smiles a lot now.

That’s why it is so good to have a dog.  I’ve got friends and family, and they have helped out plenty.  Nobody was in a funk the entire time I was gone.  And, I didn’t worry about how anyone else was handling my absence.  I don’t know what Sparky was actually thinking, and he won’t say.  I do know that he is happiest when I’m around, and he is counting on me.  That’s a good feeling.

Now that I am a punkwad, I have come to the opinion that dogs and children should not be indulged, but should conform to the customs of the house.

Being two old guys, Sparky and I agree on a lot of things.  Sparky doesn’t sleep in my bedroom because I am indulging him, we both just sleep better knowing what the other fella is doing.

When Sparky slept in his crate, no matter what time I woke up, he’d be sitting at attention.  He’d come out of the box ready to frolic.  I am not a big morning frolicker.

Now, he sleeps in to give me time to shamble around with my coffee.  I got out of bed two hours ago and Sparky is sleeping past his 10 am breakfast.

He is such a good dog.

Sparky was feeling  cheated for giving up the dead squirrel.  He always intends to do the right thing, but he doesn’t see a dead squirrel as a moral question.  He needed his faith restored, so I took him for a car ride.

While we were out, he made a compelling case for picking up a rotisserie chicken.  After picking it up, the truck smelled great.  Sparky couldn’t stop talking about how much fun we’d have eating chicken when we got home.

Eating the chicken wasn’t as wonderful as Sparky had hoped.  Being a beagle, his idea of a good time is eating so much chicken, he vomits.  Then eating the vomit and taking a nap.  Instead, I gave him an amount equal to about 4 human bites with no greasy skin.

He found a squirrel in the brush, and pulled it out to show me.  After I told him to drop it, I got his WTF look.  To his credit, he did drop and abandon it when I spoiled his fun.

Now that we are back at the house, he is acting like I promised him something even better than a dead squirrel.  I’ll take him for a car ride to even the score.