Walter’s DNA test was run a second time because the testing company came up with an upgraded test.
From strongest to weakest:
1. Miniature Poodle
2. Beagle
3. Cairn Terrier
4. Cocker Spaniel
5. Husky (didn’t specify)
Last time, they also mentioned Chihuahua.
Mini Poodle is believable, and he sure can howl like a Beagle. He also seems to enjoy keeping his nose to the ground on walks, so maybe that’s him tracking something. I guessed Cairn Terrier, but had no idea about the Cocker Spaniel or Husky.
It wasn’t that important to me to know, but it’s nice and fun. Also, now I can try to find activities that he might be stronger in or naturally enjoy more.
The dog has spent the last two hours looking for a place to hide a bully stick. He’ll leave it in a corner or under a table for a little while, then get scared of losing it and move it elsewhere.
It’s fucking adorable.
Walter and Poppy get along really well. He’s one of the first dogs Walter met at the park several months ago. His owner is really nice and she comes around the time I get there, so our dogs see each other all the time. Poppy’s one of the few that runs with Walter. When they play fight, they take turns pinning the other. They enjoy chewing ears and tails.
The dogs in the small dog area get to play fight a lot more than the ones in the big side. Once in a while a dog will bite a little too hard, but they always release when they hear a squeal. In the big dog area, the owners are really nervous and I think their dogs sense it. The owners there are too quick to break things up, so those dogs don’t get a chance to learn how far they can go. I think that’s a big reason why there are so many dog fights over there.
Sometimes Walter’ll wake up a little earlier and jump on my bed, where I let him sleep for a little while before I want to get up. It was only 5, so I wanted to stay in bed, but then I heard a retching sound and I was wide awake.
Of course, he shits and pisses outside, but waits until we get back in to vomit. What an dick! Actually, I didn’t have enough paper towels on me to wipe it up if he did it outside, so it was preferred. Then again, I could’ve just been an asshole and left it on the sidewalk. That’s what the neighbors probably would’ve done.
On the bright side, vomit’s easier and slightly less unpleasant to clean up than diarrhea. Plus, he did it on the bathroom tile.
I think it was the little bit of eggplant I gave him yesterday. Or the sauce it was covered in.
I can’t remember the name of the dog DNA test my vet did for Walter. It was the cheaper of the two that he had available, but since he was willing to do it for us for free, I chose the cheap one. The vet said that when they’re off, they’re usually way off, but I thought it’d be interesting to see what the test results would be.
They didn’t have the “primary” breed, I’m assuming it’s some kind of terrier. Walter looks most like a Cairn Terrier when his hair is long, but more slender.
The secondaries were Miniature Poodle and Beagle, and the minor breeds were Chihuahua and Siberian Husky.
I really like living five minutes from the dog park. I really hate my neighbors though. Again, I saw chicken bones on the sidewalk. Who the fuck eats chicken on the street? And then can’t be bothered to throw away their garbage?
Normally, I wouldn’t care so much, but Walter tries to eat them. Since cooked chicken bones are dangerous, I have to make sure I spot them before he does. On the bright side, he’s stopped trying to eat feces. Even though he ignores it, it’s still disgusting to see when taking a walk.
In Brno, people didn’t pick up after their dogs, but they never had their dogs crapping on the sidewalk.
In West LA and Silver Lake, I never saw dog shit on the sidewalk.
Fucking Culver City.
People I meet at the dog park tell me they experience the same thing here. They’ve never seen so much dog shit in public before. We have to be careful just walking from the parking lot to the park. Sick.
Walter got away from me tonight, which was scary because it’s dark and raining. I was fumbling with my flashlight when a cat ran by. Walter’s got little impulse control, so he took off. My first thought was, “Oh shit, now the leash is gonna be wet.” Then I was worried he’d get run over or stuck in a tight spot. I whistled and called for him a few times, but mostly just walked around and waited. I’m not chasing him. A minute later, he came sprinting back to me. My first instinct was to pet and praise him for coming back to me. But he was all wet, so I just praised him. Then we continued our walk. Only assholes get mad at their dogs, right?
I had a conversation with a lady at the dog park this morning. She trains her dog to do tricks and uses only positive reinforcement. We talked about some people in the big dog side, and how almost everyone there relies on physical dominance to control their dogs. One guy even wears thick leather gloves when he brings his large pit mix to the park. What the fuck? We’re like, “Yeah, that idiot watches too much Cesar Milan.” Pfft. He’s not even the real dog whisperer.
If your dog fucks up, it’s your fault for setting him up for failure.
I got to sleep in today. Sort of. Walter woke me up at 5:30. As I was getting dressed to take him out, he threw up in the office. And as I cleaned it up, he threw up in the living room. It was a thick, white liquid, something I’ve seen before. I forgot to take a photo. I didn’t feed him anything different yesterday, so I’m assuming it was grass or something else he found while we were out last night.
After a short walk outside, I fed him then climbed back into bed. Today’s only the second day (I think) since the adoption that I’ve been able to sleep past 8.
Oh, and I saw another unattended dog out. He’s barking right now, just like he was at 5:30. He looks familiar though, so I think he got locked out of his owner’s house. He had tags on.
I saw another stray tonight while taking Walter out for a walk. This is the second one I’ve seen in the last few weeks. What kind of assholes abandon their pets like this? How hard is it to take it to the shelter? I hate humans so much sometimes.
It seems the city and county pounds are staffed with more jackasses. I’ve called for service both times, and it’s easy to see they don’t give a fuck either. I imagine dog catchers are actually dog haters.
It’s humans who’ve turned dogs into helpless, dependent animals, and then it’s the humans who leave them to die in the street.
Since Walter destroyed his other Air Kong, and I got a 20% off coupon, I picked up a new one for him. The other one resembled two tennis balls connected by a stick and the store didn’t have any more of those. So I bought the one that looks like a bone. It’s the same size, but this one doesn’t bounce around as well as the other. Within a minute, he broke the squeaker and pulled it out. He’s also been trying to pull all the fuzz off. If the toy lasts three months, I’ll be happy.
