Separation Non-anxiety

Most of the guests who check into Little Pup Lodge initially exhibit some degree of separation anxiety. We have many ways to work with this: Rescue Remedy (a homeopathic treatment for anxiety); diffusers of Dog Appeasing Pheromone (D.A.P.), which is reported to make dogs feel like they're back with their nursing mother; hugs and kisses if wanted and space if they are not.

Will the REAL Dog Whisperer Please Sit/Stay?

Not only did I attend a lecture by the Dog Whisperer, I also got an hour consultation with him the following day. No, not that one but Paul Owens, the "Original" Dog Whisperer.

There are probably dozens, if not hundreds, of dog trainers around the country who were inspired by “The Horse Whisperer,” Nicholas Evans’ bestselling novel about one man’s intuitive way with the equines. But it has really boiled down to two canine Whisperers: Cesar Millan; rich, famous TV celebrity and trainer to the stars; and Paul Owens–not as rich, not as famous and very, very different in his approach to dogs.

Guess Who's Not Coming to Dinner

Guess Who's Not Coming to Dinner…

…That would be pretty much everyone. The Lodge, for all its lovely furnishings and warm hospitality, was not designed for the biped type of guest.
 
Human visitors prefer to eat at a dinner table, which they will not find at our establishment. Although we offer a perfectly good coffee table to eat off of,  some find it a bit distracting that their plate is eye level to four or five sets of yearning eyes. They become testy when our hotel guests crawl over, around and through them to reach the contents on said plate.
We're always surprised when people expect us to do something about it. Hey–the dogs paid to be here, you didn't. End of discussion.

To Tell the Truth

When one is raised in a military family, and a slightly alcoholic one at that, one learns a to create and maintain an impenetrable façade:  everything is okay even when it’s not.  Especially when it’s not. Eventually, one may find therapy, thousands and thousands of dollars worth of therapy, and will begin to acknowledge the truth behind the happy face.

Job Opening: Dog Cop

This is an exciting, fulfilling position for the right person. Applicants must love to stick their nose in other peoples' business in the following ways: If an owner doesn't pick up his dog's poop, rush over and point this etiquette breach to him in no uncertain terms. If a pickup is spotted with a dog in the back, follow it to the ends of the earth, if need be and point out the dangers as well as illegality of this. Be prepared to eat crow after discovering the dog was safely restrained, after all. If an owner is correcting (the new word for disciplining) her dog in a way that you deem faulty,  be willing to approach and demonstrate the right way (i.e., your way). You must be willing to offer unsolicited advice on feeding, potty training, medical issues and any other tidbits of wisdom to each dog owner encountered.  They may appear annoyed, but they will appreciate your insight later down the road.

Dog's Day Afternoon

Sometimes the stress is just too much. Not for me, of course, but for my beloved Oliver. Imagine going from being an only child to surrogate brothers and sisters parading through your life. So, I do what all the other yuppie parents do: arrange a play date. Invest in Quality Time. Build his self-esteem by reminding him that he is special, very special.

The Yellow Roads of Tex's

The ancient, blind Chihuahua I'm pretending to foster has made a rather Lazarus-like revival.  Which is both good news and bad news. Tex now trots along on our walks like a dog half- (or more realistically, one-fifth) his age. Tex refuses to be leashed for his walks, insisting on following the rest of us by smell instead of sight. He loves to play with stuffed toys and jumps with joy when he knows he's going for a car ride.

Send me a tex message!

Unfortunately, the geriatric Chihuahua's  still-intact family jewels mislead him into acting like a furry Hugh Hefner, convinced he is still a virile hunk. But without the Playboy empire, a reality TV show and a bucket full of Viagra,  Tex has had miserable luck getting the Shi-Tzus to even give him the time of day. He will also attempt to mount male dogs to prove his dominance. When the six-pound wonder tried it with Corky the Corgi who, not noticing,  walked away, he had the distressing appearance of a mosquito hanging on to a beach ball for dear life.

All my exes live with Texas.

That still-present testosterone has yet another downside; Tex wants to–needs to–mark everything, everywhere, all the time. He's neck-to-neck (or weenie-to-weenie) with Chance, another infamous marker. Although diapers sort of worked for Chance, I just can't bring myself to burden Tex with any more humiliation. He is proud. He is mighty. And I don't want the visual of a diapered Chihuahua humping away.