Do You Smell that Smell...?

As a dog owner you get used to certain aromas. Most of them are unpleasant, but we look past them because our K9 companions are so cute that they make up for the occasional and sometimes not so occasional gas passing, bad breath, and Eau de Wet Dog smell.

Gilly has managed to add yet another smell to his repertoire, and a strange one at that. No one believes me until they smell for themselves...but his feet smell just like Frito's on a good day, and nacho cheese Doritos on a bad one. I'm not sure how he achieves this since he doesn't wear shoes or spend much time walking around anywhere but inside the house, but the smell is very distinctive and all his own. My description tends to make my husband gag and others laugh (until they experience it, and then they usually revert to my husband's reaction). Oddly though, the cats seem to like it and willing rub their faces on his dangling feet as he sleeps on the sofa.

Oh the joys and weirdness of pet ownership...

Over the river and through the woods...

Tomorrow Gilly and I are off to my parent's house in Myrtle Beach. Gilly doesn't realize it yet...but he is suspicious of the suitcase and other preparations occurring. I am used to having a four legged shadow, as most dog owners are, but now that something appears to be amiss Gilly is glued to my legs. He follows me up and down the stairs, from room to room, and even sits outside the bathroom hoping I don't manage to find some escape route other then the way I went in.

Right now he is unsure whether or not he will be accompanying me on this trip or if I will be leaving him alone with his Dad...which he doesn't mind but he knows that means there will be no leftovers, last bites, or sneaking into the bed.

In the morning I will pack Gilly's bag. His suitcase consists of water bottles (for the trip) a Tupperware bowl to drink from, Ziploc bags of dry food, a few cans of wet dog food, treats, and a favorite toy or two. I used to pack his bag the night before but have learned that once he sees his bag on the floor he feels that he must guard his treasured belongings (even though they are all still available to him outside the bag) from our 3 cats who are not allowed to walk by the bag without getting a dirty look or two. And if he does step away to watch some tv or get a snack he will hurry back to check that his bag is there and is indeed untouched by his feline siblings.

So tomorrow we are off. Loading up the car and making our way to Myrtle Beach...which to Gilly is the equivalent of winning a trip to Disney Land. Each time I slow for light, stop sign, or traffic he will jump up from his pillows on the floor and look to see if we have magically reached our destination. We will also be riding with the back windows cracked and they shall remain that way the entire ride or else Gilly will never sit down... he will pace back and forth until I give in and open them (and there is no sneaking them shut when he falls asleep either!). We usually make good time as Gilly is too chicken to get out at rest stops and is not interested in stopping period. He views driving as he does his walks, once they are started it is best to just get them over with as soon as possible. But it is all worth it once we pull into my parent's neighborhood and Gilly realizes where we are and is overcome with excitement as he gets to stick his head out the window and finally charge full speed (taking down anything and anyone in his way) into my parents house which to him and me is the best place on earth :-)

Ready or Not....!!!

If you count out loud in our house you better be prepared to have Gilly go from couch potato mode to hyper, spinning, jumping, and drool flinging mode in 2 seconds flat. Counting to Gilly means only one thing...you are about to partake in his favorite game of all time... Hide and Seek! Even if all you were doing was counting eggs or days on the calendar... you are now playing hide and seek.

I haven't quite figured out why this game is so much fun for Gilly, but man does he love it. Counting definitely gets him fired up, but he also goes crazy if you ask him if he wants to play "Ready or Not". That usually sends him running like a crazy dog around the downstairs of our house at top speeds, with a couple of laps around the dining room table before he slows down to see who is coming to hold him.

How this game works in our house is that my husband and I take turns holding Gilly while the other person runs to hide. I actually find holding onto Gilly while Dan hides the most entertaining. His whole body is tense and ready for the moment your grip loosens. His ears are up as he intently tries to listen to where you may have gone to hide... did the stairs squeak? a door click shut? As you count in a loud voice to 25 he gets increasingly excited, usually by 15 he is done listening and so excited he is barking along with your counting. Once you hit 20 his excitement is barely containable as he starts to wiggle and pull, trying to get free.

At number 25 he knows what is coming...his favorite sentence of all time "Ready or Not...HERE HE COMES!!!". And he is off like a bullet, tearing through the house to find you. Our house isn't that big so he likes to check any previous spots you may have used in the past. If that doesn't work his next strategy is to run halfway into each room...stop... stop panting (so he can hear apparently), and look for anything that might be misplaced (we have taken to moving things around as we look for a hiding spot to throw him). When he does find who he is looking for they are rewarded with the greeting of someone who hasn't seen you in YEARS! You are jumped on, sniffed, and get to watch as Gilly spins in circles while smacking himself in the face with his own tail.

This usually continues until we run out of hiding spots or Gilly's tongue is dangling to the floor and he is in need of a water break. So if you ever come to visit... remember...no counting unless you are ready for the funniest/weirdest game of hide and seek you'll ever play :-)

Thunderwhat??

I must say this week I am enjoying my sleep. We have had 3 nights in a row of no thunderstorms, a rarity in the summer. Am I afraid of storms you ask? Me...no. My 70lbs anxiety prone pit bull mix?...Yes! Among Gilly's many fears thunderstorms rank very close to the top. They even surpass oh no!... the vacuum!

There is nothing quite like waking up in the middle of the night to a dog who has stealthily climbed into your bed (his stealth must be on reserve for these occasions since he is usually a bull in a china shop) and is standing over top of you staring down at your face. Once your brain has processed that it is, in fact, your dog and not some hell beast from your nightmare or a burglar, it also picks up the sound of the rain and wind outside. Your brain also realizes that your restful night of sleep is now over.

Now if it was up to me I would just let Gilly stay in bed. Yes he will hog the bed, pant, and drool. And if he ever does fall asleep, I will end up with dog feet wedged in into my back. But, unbelievable as it sounds it is better then the alternative which consists of yelling "Off!" and pushing him off the bed. You are probably thinking...hey...that doesn't sound too bad. Well that alternative must be repeated every 5 minutes until the storm passes and Gilly calms down, which could be hours. So, uncomfortable sleep but at least it's sleep, or being startled awake every 5 minutes while your husband yells and wrestles the dog off the bed. See...option one isn't looking so bad anymore is it? :-)

At least Gilly's fear of thunderstorms is a common fear in dogs (and I can pretend that makes him somewhat normal). There are lots of tips on the Internet on how to calm a fearful dog...things like putting the tv or radio on to block out the noise of the storm or creating a safe haven in a closet or crate. But I have to say I have stumbled across one of the weirder options..."Thunderwear".

On mnsbc.com (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32375721) there was an article about dogs afraid of storms and how to help them cope. Apparently Thunderwear, which is a snug fitting unitard, swaddles the dog and makes it feel safe as well as cuts down on the amount of static electricity that builds up in their coats during storms.

When I read the article and saw the pictures I laughed and dismissed it as a crazy idea...but maybe after a few more sleepless nights...

Adventures in Walking

Ask most dogs if they want to go for a walk and their reaction rates up there with winning a trip to Disney World. With Gilly however the word "walk" translates to some sort of corporal punishment. Ask him if he wants to go for a walk and immediately the ears go back and he pretends he can no longer hear you. If you actually break out the harness and leash it is like you no longer own a dog because he will be nowhere in sight.

Once you manage to get his harness on, which is like trying to dress a limp child, he will grudgingly follow you to the front door. Once outside he will make a beeline for the closest parked car in hopes that maybe you didn't mean walk, but instead meant let's take a car ride to go visit Lucy (my parent's dog and Gilly's buddy). No such luck. From this point the worst part of the walk ensues.

When Gilly sees he is not getting in the car but he is indeed going for the dreaded walk he goes into panic mode. The brakes are applied, the ears go back once again, and his tail is permanently tucked. You may get a few steps down the driveway before this happens and if you are lucky you will actually make it to the street in front of our house, but you can be sure it will happen. Now in order to get Gilly to move and not drag you back to the house you must at this point resort to making a fool of yourself which includes coaxing him in a high pitched singsong voice, telling him how much fun this will be while interspersing throughout coos, claps, and kissing noises. You can only hope that this isn't one of the days your neighbor is sitting out in his garage or the neighbor kids are outside playing as this spectacle is usually worthy of odd looks and laughter.

Now if you can make it out of our court and onto the sidewalk down the street you are usually good to go. Well good in the sense that he is walking, but he is a dog on a mission and that mission is to get home and get this walk over with as soon as possible. There is no stopping to smell things that most dogs would be curious about and no other dogs exist..even when they are within two feet and stretching on their leashes to say hello. No sir... that only slows the task at hand which is to be done with this walking stuff.

This week we have set a record with two walks in one week, and both times we made it around the entire neighborhood. I think if I can just get him to realize there is nothing to be scared of he may eventually like walking or at least tolerate it. At this point “walk' is still a dirty word in our house. So our adventures in walking shall continue much to the amusement of my neighbors and passersby.

Shopping with Greyt Expectations

Over the weekend Dan and I went to Petco to pick up food in bulk for our beasts. This is usually a monthly trip since 3 cats and a Gilly can go through some serious food. I always end up buying more then I plan to since I can't walk by the toy section without picking something up, so it's probably a good thing I don't go more often.

As Dan and I were heading in, a woman was on her way out walking a beautiful tan greyhound(pictured above). As they passed I noticed the dog only had three legs. For those who don't know me... I love all animals...but I am the first one in line to adopt the odd animal out, the runt, the ones that nobody else would want. I turned to Dan with my usual "Awwww" that is reserved for any animal within eyesight as he ushered me into the store.

Much to my excitement when we entered I immediately saw that it was a rescue day! Off to the right of the store was a table and fenced area with about 5 dogs and people milling around. Dan tried to steer me away (if not for him we would have adopted every animal under the sun by now) but he was unsuccessful. I headed over under the pretense of wanting to donate money (which I did) but also to see the dogs and learn about the cause. The rescue group turned out to be Greyt Expectations Greyhound Rescue a non-profit organization that helps find retired racing greyhounds homes.

Some of the dogs there, including the one we had seen, had lost limbs due to breaks they sustained while racing that didn't heal correctly. They got around though, and appeared to be happy dogs unfazed by their condition. I spoke briefly with one of the volunteers who was fostering Ripley, the dog we had seen. He said that Ripley did great with other dogs, cats, and had even mastered stairs (although they would prefer placement in a home without). And surprisingly I learned that greyhounds are actually big couch potatoes... a perfect match for me and Gilly!

Unfortunately we left Petco with only our pet food and a brochure on Greyt Expectations. I am still trying to convince Dan that Gilly would love to have a brother, but so far no luck. However, they do have many lovable dogs up for adoption and anyone looking to add a dog to their family should definitely check them out. Their website provides information on the breed, tips, and other helpful information.

There are tons of homeless animals out there so even if a greyhound isn't for you I encourage everyone to always adopt through a local animal shelter or rescue group. When you buy from pet stores and breeders you take away a chance at a home for a shelter animal and possibly it's life.

Gilly's Story

Meet Gilly, a 4 year old Husky Pit bull mix who we adopted when he was 4 months old from our local Humane Society. Likes include treats, paper towel rolls, squeaky toys, ice cream, trips to his grandparent's house and his favorite... hide and seek. Dislikes include thunderstorms, skylights, Pedi-Paws and oddly enough, walks.

Now I take credit for some of his oddness...since as my husband points out, all of our animals are weird and that just can't be coincidence, but some of Gilly's quirks are from having a rough start in life.

Gilly ended up at the Humane Society after being scooped out of the local water treatment plant where someone, and I still can't fathom why or how someone could be so cruel, dumped him.

At the shelter his outlook still wasn't looking good. Day after day he was passed by...watching other dogs find their forever homes. Gilly's strikes in life were nothing he could control, people are wrongly afraid of pit bulls and have been misinformed of their nature and temperament. Pit bulls are actually great dogs who are gentle and love people, do well with children, and make great family pets. Any dog can be made to be mean and aggressive, blame should be placed on irresponsible owners, not on specific breeds. But I digress... Gilly's second strike was his timidness. Check out any dog adoption tips and they tell you to steer clear of the shy ones as they could end up becoming fear biters or have other issues. So sadly Gilly sat alone in his dog run for weeks and months.

When I saw Gilly he was cowered in the back of the dog run. While other dogs were running to the gate to get petted and say hello, Gilly was in the corner trying to make himself as small as possible so as not to be seen. Even when the shelter workers tried to put on a leash and bring him out to meet me he trembled and shook. I didn't bother trying to take him outside since I could see how afraid he was. After realizing that I wasn't going to hurt him he curled up in my lap and let me pet him and it was all over. I had to have him. The rest, as they say, is history.

Gilly is now a happy clown of a dog with quirks that make him even more endearing. He is leery of strangers (who could blame him) but once he figures out you are okay he turns on the charm, winning over even the most adamant self proclaimed "not a dog person". He is a lovable goofball who has become my best pal, my shadow, my furry best friend. We gave him a home but he has given me, my husband, and our family so much more.