So my precious puppy....well the graying beard and and round middle signal that he's not so much a puppy anymore but a dignified old dog, has developed a thyroid condition in his golden age. Because of this medical problem he developed a rash on his abdomen that resulted in him being placed on a variety of medications (10 pills a day). Included in this dose are steroids, thyroid medicine, fish oil supplements and antibiotics. Having never been on steroids myself i was unaware of the side effects that could result. The vet warned me that he may have to "do number 1" more frequently which could drive me and and my parents crazy. For the first 6 days there were no problems. Sure, when he did have to go it would be in 2-10 minute long sprees of continuous number one action, but he didn't seem to need to go out any more frequently then normal which was fine by us.
Then it changed. I was watching tv in my room cuddled in an old comforter and he came in, delicately requested to be pet by stepping over my body and stretching out over me so I could reach his belly more easily (he's real helpful and accommodating like that). Nothing unusual. Then I noticed he seemed to be leaning forward. Next thing I knew my dog was having an accident on me and my comforter. A normal reaction would involve yelling or being upset. For reasons beyond my understanding, i found the whole experience utterly amusing. In fact, if i hadn't started to crack up in laughter i probably could've salvaged more of my blanket before rushing him outside to finish his business. Why did i find this so amusing? I am the same person that found it utterly disgusting when my newborn nephew unleashed any bodily fluid, be it spit, pee, or throw up on me. I vaguely remember vowing to never hold him again after one particular incident. There was no laughter when he had accidents, but when Samson let loose I was beyond myself. Why?
I suppose only a true dog lover could understand the connection between human and beast. The feeling of undying affections and unequivocal love that can be shared with a simple look between a dog and its family. Maybe it is as simple as knowing that no matter what I do or don't do, Samson will always love me and be there to support me and will be waiting for me at the top of the stairs when i come home. He didn't care about my grades or school success, he did not judge during the unemployment and failed employment times. All he has ever done is been a constant companion with many shared memories. Perhaps the knowledge that I will never be a disappointment to him makes him peeing on me not a problem but rather another memory that only the two of us will be able to remember.
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Having now experienced a more "solid" potty experience in my car, I have tried to ponder more in depthly why this amuses me. This time I took sammy on a car ride that he enjoys and made several stops. At one point i was on the phone with my mom (no commentary on driving while talking) and i smelled something a bit foul. I even remember commenting to my mom that i thought samson had farted and cracked the windows open on a chilly New England winter day. I dropped him off at home and continued on to errands that required more of my time than i felt comfortable leaving him alone in the car for. Imagine my surprise when there was still a pretty strong odor in the car. At the first stop sign i turned my head and saw the poo evidence...sadly i was too far away to do anything about it but laugh. And laugh i did. In fact it was the first story i told the woman with whom i had an appointment. Naturally, I came home immediately after. Luckily, i had designed a doggie slip cover for my car during the summer months to cut down on the number of trips to Scrub-a-Dub for a vacuuming. Much to my mother's chagrin i chose to simply toss away the soiled cover and make another. But here's the thing. Even with this incident I couldn't help but laugh. It all comes down to this. When I had my first knee surgery and returned home a swollen mess due to some questionable medical care and my mother caused me to become a screaming, crying mess when she tried to help me into bed, the first member of the family to come rushing in was Samson. He herded my parents out of my room and stood guard at the entry way to prevent any further harm. He even stayed with me by my bed to protect me. He was even willing to stay by my side while i was unable to shower for the first several days post operation. I know I didn't smell pretty and I know a dog's sense of smell is far more acute than a human's, but he stayed. All in all, if he can stand by me in my stinkiness then I can stand by him in his.
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