Bella the wonder dog
Let me share with you, friends, the trials of living with a special needs dog.
I had been thinking all week about going to the Boulder farmer's market this morning, so I got up, had some coffee and then packed me and Bella into the car with some cash and reusable shopping bags.
Now, every time we drive anywhere with Bella, we put a painting tarp down in the back seat because she has a tendency to a) drool like crazy and b) yak up everything in her stomach every single time we get in the car. I have gotten used to it. So, I didn't give her breakfast this morning hoping it would minimize the yakking.
No such luck.
She threw up twice on the 20 minute drive to the market, and then proceeded to lie in it. Being that I was going 65 down the freeway, there was very little I could do about this.
So, we reach the parking garage and I get her out to discover that I have a dog and a leash soaked in bile and spit. LOVELY. I wiped off the leash as best I could with one of my shopping bags and then clung to a dry bit as we walked.
Bella has been with us to the farmer's market before, and I'm not going to say she loved it, but she did fine. I really want to try to socialize her, and this seemed like a great way to do it.
At first, she seemed fine. We got in the extremely long line for Palisade peaches and chatted with the nice hippy man behind us who had stubs for teeth and powerful BO. Then, she flipped out. I have no idea why, but something spooked her and she couldn't sit still and wanted to flee. So we left the line and took a walk around the park to calm down.
Deciding that the peaches were ultimately not worth another freak out, we started shopping the other booths. I bought snap peas at one booth, and she was fine. Then we were buying cherries and something made a big noise. Like a firework.
The last few weeks of Bella's existence have been EXTREMELY hard for her. Fireworks are the scariest thing ever in her little world, and our neighbors have been setting them off every night for at least three weeks. And it sends her into a panic every time.
So naturally, she panicked. Not only did she panic, but she managed to panic her way out of her collar and ran naked through the next booth and under their truck.
AWESOME.
There I am, saying, "Excuse me. Sorry. She got scared." as one of the farm girls squeals "PUPPY ON THE LOOSE!" I scrabble down on my hands and knees, dropping my peas and cherries and beg Bella to come. Finally she inches over towards me. I tell her to sit, and she - mercifully - obliges, at which point I grab her by the scruff of the neck so I can grab her collar with my other hand and try to fit it back on her one-handed.
It was at that point I decided no produce was worth this, and we headed back to the car. Where she promptly vomited twice again on the way home. And then sat in it.
I don't know how she does it, but she ALWAYS manages to find the one spot that's not covered by a tarp, so when we got home, weary, dirty, covered in vomit, and I finally got her out of the car, I discovered a large pool of viscous bile in the corner of my back seat, sitting nicely in a black sweater I had accidentally left there.
Why did I want a dog again?
I had been thinking all week about going to the Boulder farmer's market this morning, so I got up, had some coffee and then packed me and Bella into the car with some cash and reusable shopping bags.
Now, every time we drive anywhere with Bella, we put a painting tarp down in the back seat because she has a tendency to a) drool like crazy and b) yak up everything in her stomach every single time we get in the car. I have gotten used to it. So, I didn't give her breakfast this morning hoping it would minimize the yakking.
No such luck.
She threw up twice on the 20 minute drive to the market, and then proceeded to lie in it. Being that I was going 65 down the freeway, there was very little I could do about this.
So, we reach the parking garage and I get her out to discover that I have a dog and a leash soaked in bile and spit. LOVELY. I wiped off the leash as best I could with one of my shopping bags and then clung to a dry bit as we walked.
Bella has been with us to the farmer's market before, and I'm not going to say she loved it, but she did fine. I really want to try to socialize her, and this seemed like a great way to do it.
At first, she seemed fine. We got in the extremely long line for Palisade peaches and chatted with the nice hippy man behind us who had stubs for teeth and powerful BO. Then, she flipped out. I have no idea why, but something spooked her and she couldn't sit still and wanted to flee. So we left the line and took a walk around the park to calm down.
Deciding that the peaches were ultimately not worth another freak out, we started shopping the other booths. I bought snap peas at one booth, and she was fine. Then we were buying cherries and something made a big noise. Like a firework.
The last few weeks of Bella's existence have been EXTREMELY hard for her. Fireworks are the scariest thing ever in her little world, and our neighbors have been setting them off every night for at least three weeks. And it sends her into a panic every time.
So naturally, she panicked. Not only did she panic, but she managed to panic her way out of her collar and ran naked through the next booth and under their truck.
AWESOME.
There I am, saying, "Excuse me. Sorry. She got scared." as one of the farm girls squeals "PUPPY ON THE LOOSE!" I scrabble down on my hands and knees, dropping my peas and cherries and beg Bella to come. Finally she inches over towards me. I tell her to sit, and she - mercifully - obliges, at which point I grab her by the scruff of the neck so I can grab her collar with my other hand and try to fit it back on her one-handed.
It was at that point I decided no produce was worth this, and we headed back to the car. Where she promptly vomited twice again on the way home. And then sat in it.
I don't know how she does it, but she ALWAYS manages to find the one spot that's not covered by a tarp, so when we got home, weary, dirty, covered in vomit, and I finally got her out of the car, I discovered a large pool of viscous bile in the corner of my back seat, sitting nicely in a black sweater I had accidentally left there.
Why did I want a dog again?