I hope the neighbors move out soon. They don’t appreciate my humor.
One of my wackadoodle, completely useless talents is the ability to rhyme. And sing. My family is astonishingly tolerant of my bursting into song about whatever occurs to me, usually sung to a show tune or a hymn. Frequently ribald, sometimes just rude, other times, heck, I can get downright strange. Imagine that.
Anyway, the neighbors. I was taking Abby out for her morning constitutional and par the course, I needed to provide musical accompaniment.
Think Addams Family:
I need a poo
I need a poo
I need a poo (doo de doo)
I need a poo
I need a poo
Fresh outta yo…
The neighbor guy was standing looking at me, slack jawed.
“I… the… dog…”
He started backing away as I realized he couldn’t see Abbs.
What could I say? The only available thing: “well, shit.”
And on cute, the dog crapped. In his yard.
I can’t say this vacation hasn’t been challenging with the dog. I mean, Abby is doing amazingly well, given her frequently-confused mental state, her near-blindness and deafness, Cushing’s disease and her ever-increasing barking, which we attribute to both anxiety and stress. That in addition to being in a completely foreign place (vacationing in Yosemite in a cabin).
As long as Beloved (preferably, as far as Abby is concerned), Granny or I are nearby, she’s very much like an infant. She’s okay if she’s recently fed, but she constantly wants snacks (hello, Cushing’s). Going to sleep is tough unless she’s got someone sitting next to her, and even then she’s stressed, whiny, barking and panting at night.
Also, she just expects us to follow along with our schedule from home, which has led to some issues: she’s pissed we’re not sitting on the bed at 6pm to watch Rachel Maddow, So BARK BARK BARK.
It seems to be a form of Sundowners, like the humans with dementia get. Really upset at night. During the day she’s mostly lucid. Or asleep. She seems to really enjoy the walks here in the park, and when she sits down, we put her in the Princess Carriage so she can ride and rest.
Yes, we’ve started her on the CBD. Thing is, this hound seems to have an astonishing tolerance for meds. She once ate a half-full bottle of Synthroid to no ill effect (damn dog, it’s a good thing there was an after-hours emergency vet line who, for the sum of $90, informed us dogs metabolize thyroid meds differently and it wouldn’t really affect her. Who knew Synthoid is sweet?)
She also honks down chocolate with gay abandon whenever she can get her sticky little paws on it. The Boy (my son) did a school project making a train out of Three Musketeers bars.
Did you know a dog can honk down an entire Three Musketeers bar without stopping? Even as a screeching 40 year old is trying to whack her on the head? Thank GOD the days of school projects are behind us.
So…yeah. The dose for a dog of her 27 lbs is maybe six mg, but everything I’ve read and been told, yon canine cannot overdose on it. Or, as the vet said, she can… because you can overdose on anything really… but with the dog at least, you couldn’t afford the amount of CBD to OD her even if you wanted to.
She started on a low dose and the first night was a miracle… she was a little lamb, but she built up resistance to it at the speed of sound.
A week later, she had 15 mg and still BARK BARK BARK. UNNGH.
We’re getting higher dose treaties and I think we’ll try upping it further. They’re saying the full effect could take a month… unnngh…
Maybe we’ll be testing the limits of what we can afford…
ExaminingMisadventures 