Musings, reflections, wisecracks from a somewhat creative mind

Archive for April, 2010


What is up with dogs’ seeming inability to get out of the way? If I ever break a bone or crack my skull you can bet it’ll be because I tripped over a furry obstacle. And why do they have to be in the same room with me all the time? Max and Chloe are the worst. Amber … well she has her own agenda, mainly to sleep.

The poods think they know where you are going and walk right in front of you, usually while you are carrying a loaded laundry basket or some large, heavy object. The poodle destination is often wrong but the hampering of your movement is so successful that it ultimately leads to the shouted “MOVE!” Bad decorum on my part—born of frustration.

What slays me is when Maxie perkily trots in front of me toward the bedroom (he loves bed), then “gets a clue”, stops, turns around and looks at me expectantly with his bright eyes and little tail going 260. I have to laugh. Cute!

UPDATE, Sept., 2010: My MOTHER tripped over a poodle! Thankfully, she did not crack her skull or break a bone. I’m not sure Chloe even noticed …

Pet stamps promote adoption – St. Petersburg Times

Pet stamps promote adoption – St. Petersburg Times

Posted using ShareThis

Poodle-tini anyone?

My Amber likes to drink coffee. She knows she’s not supposed to but, when I’ve forgotten to place the mug beyond her reach I sometimes will return to find her very near the mug, staring defiantly at me and licking her chops. I smell her breath and, yup, coffee. Drat that dog!

A while ago my “drink du jour” was chocolate martinis in an “up” glass. I had no thought that she might want to drink something so … astringent. I figured the inflammable nature of the alcohol would persuade her to smell something more appealing (like her butt) rather than taste it. Well this one evening I’d left the “tini” on the table next to my favorite chair while going BRIEFLY into the kitchen. Next thing I hear from the living room? AACCKK!! Yup. She did it. She tasted it. Didn’t like it either! HA! All the bad breath germs in her mouth probably simultaneously spasmed. (Too bad they didn’t die.)

I didn’t smell her breath that time. No need.


I mentioned that Max has a terminal condition. He has a heart murmur with resulting congestive heart failure and fluid build-up in his lungs which often makes it difficult for him to breathe. For this reason he coughs a lot or at least more than your average dog. There’s no cure, just medications.

In spite of his condition he is still a hoot – or a poot!! For instance, he does what many older dogs (and people) do—the cough n’ fart thang. His farts are pint-sized (miniature, so to speak) so it’s more like a squeak-fart.

You know how dogs get that startled look when they fart, then bend around and sniff their butt… I guess to confirm the passing of methane. And knowing dogs, they probably like the smell. Ew. Anyway, I miss that—he doesn’t hear well anymore so he doesn’t hear the squeak. Pffffft!

Max is also losing his eyesight and he is … cognitively challenged? The Vet said he’s “Alzheimery”. Yah.

A brief history of my “poods”

A brief history of my “poods”:

Amber is a white miniature-poodle. At 16 years old, she is ready for her drivers license. (Thinking about her in a ;ink Barbie car with one of those loooong flag poles with a neon-pink triangular flag on top … so we can see where she’s off to.) I adopted Amber (and Max, below) at 7 years old in the fall of 2001. She’s an alpha female who certainly knows how to flex her tiny alpha muscles, has baaaad breath, beautifully deep, dark brown, almond-shaped eyes, and pink skin with freckles. She’s slowing down noticeably due to her old-woman-ness. Alternate names: Old Woman, Punk-ass-bitch, Princess Amber, Amber Waves of Grain, Ambivalent, Pinky. The name the breeder gave here was “Glowing Amber Twilight”. (Ugh. Where do they come up with this stuff?)

Max (1995-2011) was also a white miniature-poodle. Maxie passed May 13, 2011 and was one of the most loyal dogs I’ve ever known.

I adopted him in the fall of 2001 with Amber. They were said to be a bonded pair but, knowing them like I know them now—NOT. Max is neurotic, a cuddle-muffin and MUST know where I am at ALL TIMES. He is clownish and jumped right up into my arms the first time I met them. He also pees WAY too much and always has. The things you’ll hear me say most often at my house are “MA-AAAAAX!” and “Max? What’re you doin’?” Unfortunately, my Max is terminally ill. He’s still comfortable though so we’re dealing with it as best we can. He remains irritatingly energetic and happy. (It’s only irritating because I’m not energetic.) Alternate names for Max: Maxie-pants (No. I don’t know why.), Diaper Boy, Boyo, most of the variations of Max you can imagine, and the breeder named him “Maxwell House Coffee”.

Chloe (the perfect dog) is an apricot standard poodle who we THINK is 6 years old. I adopted her from Florida Poodle Rescue January, 2010. She had been a breeder and was probably well cared for most of her life. But her owner died and Chloe, along with the others in the pack, were neglected for an indeterminate amount of time. They were in bad shape. HOWEVER, Chloe has rebounded beautifully and is 62 pounds of love! She is now spayed, far too smart, very calm and affable … I think she’d be a great therapy dog. I’m inquiring around about training for us to do just that. Alternate names for Chloe: Chlo, The Chloe-ster, the Chloe-inator, Burbur, Chewy, and more. July 2010: Just found out Chloe’s AKC name: Majestic Dunnellon’s Dutchess. Great. More royalty, as if Princess Amber wasn’t enough. Another update, August 2010: Have learned Chloe is more likely 8-10 years old.