New collar

preppy New England Pooka
Originally uploaded by Jessica Jessica

I was inexplicably attached to Pooka's first collar. When I bought it, it was bright green, a deep grass green, with reflective stitching. Simple, pet-store staple. As the days stretched into weeks, the collar grew faded, dusty, stinky and more stinky. I washed the collar. The collar got stinkier. I felt a little bit of panic at the thought of getting Pooka a new collar, like her identity might be tied somehow to this ratty green thing. Like giving up blankie, that was the feeling.

Then, I thought, well, I could get her another green collar...

And then I got over it. At Bark, I found this fabulous bright red and blue lobster collar, perfect for summer, despite being so far away from beloved Cape Cod. Pooka has gotten lots of compliments. (By the way, you can click on the "Jessica Jessica" link under the photo to see the rest of the recent Flickr uploads.)

This morning, I woke at 6am to find her sitting up, ears perked, staring at the closet door. A few minutes later, she was whining at the closet. Sarah's kitties must have been scratching around on the other side of the wall, but Pooka was insistent that she investigate. I feel very safe from whatever horrors might haunt us in the closet now.

In other news, the toenail is growing in -- a bit splotchy and crooked, but starting once again to resemble toenail in shape and length.

Also, I thought I left my carefully prepared lunch sandwich within Pooka's reach yesterday (it's nowhere to be found), but I came home to no sign of sandwich or the large plastic bag, originally from a package of English muffins, in which I had stashed it. So far, no evidence that she stashed it or tried to digest it. I am puzzled.

Also, Pooka is really shaping up to be a Very Good Dog. She's much less anxious than in the early days, as evidenced by her seeming contentedness to flop down wherever I happen to be and chill, rather than pace endlessly through the house. She still does her insane-dance when I come home after a long stretch away, but I think it's overall a sign of happiness, rather than pent-up neurosis. These days when I get home, she has been running to grab a toy, then invites me to a game of "chase me in tight circles around the couch, first one direction and then the other, but I won't chase you if you get the toy, but you can chase me again if you give it back to me," which is our favorite.

Excellent news

Pooka and I went to the vet after work tonight, fearing the worst. Dr. M had used the dreaded a-word to describe what could happen if Pook's little toe didn't heal over, and to my unpracticed eye, not all that much had changed since we took the bandage off almost two weeks ago.

In the waiting room, P. got all riled up by a mewling kitty, but she settled down as we waited for our appointment with Dr. R. On the one hand, I worried he wouldn't have reviewed Pooka's information; on the other, perhaps he wasn't quite so scalpel-happy as Dr. M.

His examination of the Pook's toe was quick and positive: it's healing fine, and he expects a full new toenail to regenerate. Really? Completely the opposite of Dr. M's pessimistic outlook, but we'll take it. He even said it was OK for her to start licking it a little (less than 5 minutes), and for her to get out and play again (though not on gravel or crushed seashells -- dry humor, perhaps).

"You're responsible for this foot again," he told her very seriously. "No one else is going to take care of this for you now."

She listened intently.

Poor conehead Pooka

poor conehead
Originally uploaded by Jessica Jessica

This is a repost, because when I used the online editing tool on Flickr to crop, it disappeared from the blog.

Pooka is getting used to the cone. H., who is here for a long weekend, gives me updates on how she's doing, and from her perspective, Miss P. seems to be functioning like a regular dog, if a bit of a clumsy one.

The one drawback is that she doesn't seem to be able to find a good place to poop as readily. It could be some 'irregularity' driven by the antibiotics she's wolfing down hidden in peanut butter blobs, of course. But having to walk her four times a night until she's REALLY gotta go is going to get old.

Jenny loves Pooka

So sweet of Jenny to send me this photo after taking "Spooka" for a stroll:

Am I crazy?

I just clicked over to the Rhodesian Ridgeback rescue site and carefully read over all the Northwest region listings, with the idea that maybe if I were to get a second dog, I'd get another Ridgeback companion for Pooka.

Right around when I said "get a second dog" is when I'm expecting to hear the "You must be crazy" responses...why is it so quiet in here?

I miss...

Yesssss...?
Originally uploaded by Jessica Jessica

my pre-toenail-incident Pooka.

Toe incident aftermath No. 1

Toe incident aftermath No. 1, originally uploaded by Jessica Jessica.

Last week, Pooka was playing at day care when something Very Bad happened. One of her back toenails somehow parted with her toe, taking a little piece of toe-bone with it.

Ouch.

She tolerated the fluorescent green bandage for a few days, takes her antibiotics wrapped in peanut butter without complaint, and even holds still for 6 or so minutes while I soak the foot in epsom salts twice daily.

To keep her from licking at the wound, which must scab over and heal or the unthinkable happens, she's now trapped in a lampshade collar thingie, and giving me the look. See other photo above.

Update: I wanted to add thank-you's to our Hounds Abound friends for saving Pooka's toenail and keeping her calm and mellow until I could get out of work, and to the affable and energetic Dr. Mortimer at Green Lake Animal Hospital who took a look at said toenail and realized Pooks needed an X-Ray. She wasn't limping, so at first, no one expected she had broken anything. Dr. M. called me on Monday to check in, too. We feel good knowing he's on the case.