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Bean, on the way home tonight: I want to stay at your house for all the days. Even the daddy days. Daddy’s house is not my home. Your house is my home.
I don’t even know what to say to that. She’s told me multiple times this week “I miss you when I’m at daddy’s”, and I’ve done my standard I know it’s cool having two homes, but it’s hard, too, isn’t it? When you’re at daddy’s you miss mommy, and when you’re at mommy’s you miss daddy spiel, but tonight when I rebutted with daddy’s home is your home too, she replied with “No. Only your house is my home. Not daddy’s.”
This stuff is just hard for kids sometimes. I think it’ll be a bit easier for her when Miss O spends the night at Dave’s and there isn’t so much pick-up/drop-off activity going on all weekend. Because both days I dropped O off at Dave’s this past weekend, she started crying as soon as he took her out of my car while Bean was insisting she wanted to come with me. Not fun for anyone.
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I took Cody back to the shelter today. It made me nauseous and I hated doing it, but I’d reached the point of not trusting him anymore, and he and I were in a kind of standoff.
The peeing was obviously a dominance thing, and while I probably could have resolved it in time with training, I just couldn’t justify the risk of him deciding to show one of the girls he was the boss of them. In his defense, I never got even the slightest inkling that he would show any aggression toward them; to the contrary – he always seemed to accept that the little ones are beyond reproach. But there isn’t a single dog bite story that doesn’t begin with “s/he was great with the kids …”
They were a little curt with me at the shelter, not that I blame them. They have a hard job and seeing an animal come back has to be like a sucker punch to the gut. The woman warmed a little when I declined the offer for a voucher for another dog; I told her that this could have happened with any dog and if I wasn’t willing to give Cody more time, I shouldn’t get another dog. At least it’s a no-kill shelter, so he has a good chance of finding a new home eventually.
So, it sucks, I hate that it went down like this, and I feel guilty/crappy as hell that he’s back in a damn cage and probably cold, confused and sad. But I’d feel a bajillion times worse if one of the girls got hurt, and that’s really what I have to think about here.
Stuff is hard for mommies, too, sometimes.
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I guess, but damn, I’m mad.
Cody is *pissing* me off. Literally. He’s peed on two things in the house in the last 24 hours. He can hold it all night, so I know it’s not because I’m not letting him out enough (when I’m awake, I let him out every couple hours, and he can hold it almost 12 hours overnight in extreme cases) and I know it’s not a UTI, because if that were the case, he’d be tinkling everywhere all the time.
He peed on Bean’s baby stroller (thankfully 100% plastic, so it could be rinsed off easily) and the garbage can. Both were good-sized pees. And both occurred within a couple hours of me letting him out anyways.
One more time and he’s going back to the shelter. I can deal with the dog aggression, he’s beter with the cats and his behavior with the girls and I is beyond reproach. But peeing is unacceptable. What if Miss O crawled in it? And what is he going to pee on next? My bed? My bedroom set? My sofa?
Grrrr …
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I missed a few days, but didn’t do too bad. Technically, I started this post on 11/29, so I would have had one more November post, but between Bean and Miss O, I just never finished it.
Recent Beanisms
Bean to Miss O: “I’m sorry I was being mean … I’m sorry I had a mean face on.”
“It’s okay Miss O, I will read to you. That will make you happy.”
Bean: “She was crying”
Mommy: “Why was she crying?”
Bean: “She didn’t have anyone to take care of her right this minute.”
Mommy, watching the Gators: “Why did they run??”
Bean: “Oh for god’s sake.”
“I can jump that big – like a thousand miles!”
“I almost fell down on that bicycle. And I breaked my heart. I breaked my heart and I fixed it.”
“Mommy, I want to stay with you. Because I love you. I love you mommy, that’s why I want to stay with you.”
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So Cody’s still here. I know that some folks disagree with my choice to keep him, but I want to give him a fair shake. I’m looking into training classes for him, and contacted the shelter to see if they can recommend anyone who is skilled with shelter dogs in particular. I want something a bit more than the Petsmart/Petco training classes, and I want an experienced trainer to give me their opinion on the actual risk of keeping him.
I’m sure this makes me naive and a terrible mom, but when I watch him with the girls, I cannot believe he’d ever hurt them. And he’s not *that* bad with the cats: Willow is out every day and while his body language is definitely “oh holy CRAP I’m interested” he’s not lunging at her or acting aggressive – just very, very interested. And usually he just whines at her. She just wants to be friends with him, and keeps him at bay pretty easily with meows. But she’s constantly trying to touch noses and rub against him.
So if a trainer’s assessment is that he can be trusted with the kids and even with the cats (tho I’m assuming the cats will always require supervision), he can stay and we’ll do the heartworm treatment. He’s a good dog. And the more I watch him with the girls, the more I just feel in my gut he can be trusted with them. He’s just incredibly indulgent and patient with them. And so very tolerant.
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A few recent pics of my girls
Miss O
My beautiful big girl
Bean helping Miss O stay on the “boat” they’re using to travel to South Austin on.
Bean and her dog
Bean’s picture of Miss O
Bedtime
Miss O and her dog
Miss O playing
And a couple non-girl pictures. First, Cody
Bean drew this one day, and she couldn’t tell me what it was – I loved it and had to snap a picture, since so little of what she draws actually looks like anything to me
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It’s been an interesting weekend for me. Shannon is at Dave’s; she drove from California with her kids and is staying there all week. And this is Dave’s weekend with the girls, so whatever the sleeping arrangements are, I’ve no say in them. I sent several impassioned emails begging them (since I have to send email to a joint address now, you know) to not have Bean in the room with them, but I don’t know what they decided to do. And I haven’t asked.
They had Miss O during the day, and Dave’s parents arrived in town yesterday. He picked Miss O up in the morning, and I retrieved her from his house in the evening. As usual, I was met outside, as Dave doesn’t allow me in his home. He came out alone, with just Miss O. I know it shouldn’t have bothered me, but neither his mom nor his dad came out to say hi. And damn, that hurt. I was a part of their lives for 12 years, and am the mother of 2/3 of their grandchildren, and they couldn’t even say hi.
I guess it’s possible that they didn’t realize I was there, what with Dave’s insistence on me calling to let him know I’m there and not even allowing me to come to the door. But they had to know I was *going* to be there …
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V – you asked about the chicken wing for Cody. Dogs (and cats, and ferrets, for that matter) can eat raw bones – it’s cooked bones that pose the real risk. I’m not saying raw is completely, 100% without risk, it’s just that a raw bone breaks up in a different way – more in a “shard” kind of way than a “splinter” kind of way. So the risk of perforation is much, much smaller.
My cats used to eat a 100% raw diet, consisting of ground whole chickens, turkey and rabbit with a little bit of greenery thrown in. Here’s a generic “raw feeding” site FAQ page.
If anyone is interested in feeding raw, I’d suggest RawPaws over on Yahoo Groups. My dog experience is minimal, but I’ve fed raw to cats for about 10 years, so if you have some general questions, I may be able to help.
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About Cody, I just don’t know if I can be diligent enough, and consistent enough, to make SURE cats and kids are always safe with him. I get that makes me kind of a sucky pet owner, bu at least I’m an honest sucky pet owner. The heartworm thing alone, while it would be a pain in the ass to handle, logistically, and a huge blow financially, I could deal with. I have a hard time putting a price on life and love. I’m one of those people who probably would consider a kidney transplant for a favorite pet if it were even remotely feasible.
But with the cat- and dog-aggression added on, I just don’t know … I’m trying to convince myself I can somehow make it work, because he’s such a great dog in so many ways … but I can’t shake my fear of something happening to one of the cats, or – worse – one of the girls.
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Just being slacktastic about the blog. I’ve been working on this post since the 18th, just never actually finished it. The good news is I’ve written a few pages for submission, and that I made it halfway to 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo. Yay me.
J-E-T-S Jets, Jets, Jets!!
Not bad for an old man. What a kick-ass game.
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A couple Beanisms from last week:
Bean: C- is not my friend
Mommy: Why not?
B: He grabbed me
M: Why did he do that?
B: He’s just difficult
M: Difficult?
B: To manage. He’s difficult to manage.
Bean, hollering over to the non-stalker neighbor girl: Hi! How are you? My name is Sleeping Beauty. I just need to talk to you for a minute.
About Cody getting up on the bed: That’s ridiculous about him
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I never want to be “one of those people” when it comes to animals. You know, the kind that don’t take their commitment seriously or who cheap out when medical care is needed. That’s why even when Dave’s asthma got bad, putting the cats in a shelter was just never an option I seriously considered. He held it against me, and for a few weeks I did consider putting Jezebel and Anya in a no-kill shelter to meet him part way. I’m glad I never did it, as he still would have had his litany of BS excuses for divorcing me. But I never felt that him being on medication was worth them either spending the rest of their lives in a cage or dying.
(Here comes the “but” you were waiting for.)
BUT.
Cody is heartworm positive. The shelter told me it was a faint positive and that a year on preventative would clear the infection. The vet said “nuh-uh” – he needs to be treated. Even if it was minor, it can take up to several years for the adult heartworms to die, and until they do, they are damaging his heart. And it isn’t cheap. We’re talking close to a grand once I buy a big-ass crate for him to spend two months in. Yeah, two months of living in a crate and only being taken out to potty on a leash.
AND. He tried to bite Willow today. She was being really outgoing and meowing and trying to nose-touch with him. I could read his body language and picked her up but as I was lifting her to the counter, he jumped at her and tried to bite her. 
AND. He’s also very dog-aggressive. Like bit a dog’s lip through a fence aggressive. This I could handle with my own due diligence and some training, even a Halti leash if necessary, but it worries me.
AND. He tried to bite the vet tech when she was restraining him to have his ears looked at.
Bean’s going to be at Dave’s pretty much all week and I’m trying to decide if I take him back to the shelter I would be horrified if Max or Willow were hurt. The other two cats stay far away, but Max and Willow can’t handle being that isolated for long, so they’re out and about. And more than horrified, I’d never forgive myself if one of the girls were hurt.
His behavior with the girls, though, has been phenomenal. He has allowed both of them to reach into his dish while he’s eating and to take his toys from him. I know, neither of these things are things that I should “let” happen, but it’s almost impossible to keep everyone doing what they “should” be doing all the time. He lets Miss O pull up on his fur and crawl on him, and has never shown even the tiniest bit of aggression or aggravation towards them. If anything else were the case, this would be a “Cody’s back a the shelter” post and not an “I’m wondering if I need to take him back” post.
The vet admonished me that I can never let the kids be with him without me there. Well sh*t – how am I supposed to do that? I can’t. I have a three-and-a-third-year-old who never stops moving and listens to approximately one word out of every 2 million, an almost one-year-old who is constantly on the move and much quicker than I give her credit for, and a dog that has to be wherever I am. I’m also the only adult in the house, and I have to cook, clean, pee …
I’ve been trying to convince myself that I can make this work, that I’m not “one of those owners” who sucks and can’t handle the reality of pet ownership. But I really worry that I’m putting the girls at risk because I just *can’t* be everywhere all the time.
Ugh.
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So, you experienced dog people – any ideas/thoughts on this?
Cody (or Martha, as Bean calls him – she’s decided that she wants “to call him a girl and Martha is my favorite name.” This after her insisting on a hot pink leash and collar for the poor guy. I managed to talk her down to a brown-and-green paisley combo.)
Anyways, Cody seems a bit submissive about food. In the realms of food aggression, I’m assuming that this is preferable to dominant about it. But when I put his food down, he’s very hesitant about eating, and seems like he’s waiting for me to either do something to encourage him or – if I raise my hand to pet him – he almost looks like he’s expecting to be hit. He’s such a well-mannered guy that I have a hard time believing he has been abused (what would be the need??) Is there some sort of feeding cue he may be waiting for? I have him sit before I put the food down, and I tell him to eat. But the only way he really eats is with me sitting next to him.
I took him to be groomed today, and he did fabulously. He’s such a great dog. He also ate his first chicken wing today, and crunched right through it like a pro. Eventually he’ll be 100% raw, but I’ll ease him into it slowly. Feeding a dog a raw diet is so much easier than feeding a cat a raw diet!
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No, I haven’t written anything worthwhile. Or event attempted a query letter. I don’t know *what* my problem is, I just cannot for the life of me motivate myself into action.
I suck.
I did manage to jump off the fence and actually do something about one of the things I’ve been blathering on about: I got a dog. Meet Cody:
I’m tellin’ ya, if the dog gods had designed *the* perfect dog for us, Cody would be it. I decided to head out to the shelter today, as I’d cruised their site last night and found a couple dogs I was interested in. I totally missed Cody on the site. When we got there, Bean was beside herself, and wanted to take them all home (I’d prepped her for what she’d experience, and that the dogs all needed homes). We both liked Cody, and I asked to take him for a walk.
He pulled on the leash like crazy, but otherwise was just a model citizen. He allowed Bean to give him hugs and kisses, and sat on command. Not every time and not always right away, but sometimes he did it the first time I asked 
He wasn’t all barky and obnoxious, even when other dogs barked at him, and he allowed Miss O to use him as a mobile standing point, even allowing her to pull up on his hair.
The crucial cat test went well – he was interested but not aggressive – and he was ours.
The trip to PetSmart to outfit him with some basic supplies was a comedy of errors, between an excited dog, an excited Bean, and Miss O in the backpack, wishing in vain for a nap. I brought him in the house on his leash just so I could see how he reacted to the cats.
He flat out ignored them. He does not care about them. He cuts Max a wide berth, since Max doesn’t run and hide, but stands his ground and hisses, and the three girl cats avoid him like the plague. He and Max can share space pretty easily already, but it’s not like I’ll be letting them all stay together unsupervised.
I had thought about crating Cody, but based on his behavior so far, I think he can just stay in my room at night. He has been a perfect gentleman, and I have already had one round of the unrestrained joy and gratitude a shelter dog gives for bringing him or her home: a dog smothering me with kisses while lying in my lap, belly-up. When I read the girls their bedtime books, Cody lay down at the foot of the bed and fell asleep. He’s now lying beside my chair, happy as can be.
I’ll get some in-home pics soon. Anyone in the area is welcome to come meet him in person – he’s a total sweetheart.
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