Newfie vs. Rottweiler

Thatcher and cousin Blaise (my sister's dog) have become pretty even-matched competitors in the game "fetch". Newfies are not known for their speed, and Blaise is a petite, agile Rottweiler. She's quick like a cheetah and can outrun Thatcher nine times out of ten. But Thatcher has one strength that Blaise lacks - he watches where you are throwing the ball. Blaise gets so excited with the anticipation of the chase that she forgets to keep an eye out on what direction you're launching the ball in. She usually sprints ahead, then remembers to look for the ball. Thatcher, on the other hand, holds off on his full gallop until he sees which way your arm is pointing towards. The ironic part is that unless both dogs are chasing the ball, neither is. Whenever I try playing fetch with Thatcher alone, or even Thatcher and Boden together, he gets bored after a few tosses. Thatcher and Blaise thrive on trying to beat each other, and can keep going dozens of times when together. Poor Boden is neither fast enough or focused enough to stand a chance with either of the older dogs, so we play a little game of mini-fetch with him on the side between tosses for Thatcher and Blaise.

The aftermath

Yoga at your own risk

On weeknights it can be so difficult to find time to go to the gym. I usually rush out of work and head home right away, to where the dogs are usually pretending they've had an even rougher day than me. I hate leaving them to go work out after I've already been gone all day, but I also need to do something after sitting in front of a computer all day. So to tackle this dilemma, my sister and I decided to try out a home yoga dvd. Yoga is all about relaxation and meditation. We knew in order to get any quiet time, we've have wear the dogs out first. After work, we took the Newfies and her Rottweiler for a swim in our pool to get some energy out. We always throw the ball all the way across the pool and make Thatcher and Blaise take turns bringing it back. Blaise used to be able to keep going much longer than Thatcher, but Thatch has been getting back in shape with this new form of exercise. He's been bouncier, happier and has much more endurance. We've been counting how many times they each go after the ball, and tend to lose track around 25. Boden will fetch a couple of times in the shallow end, but doesn't enjoy swimming far distances. Instead, he prefers to sit on the pool ledge and watch the other two. So after they finally got tuckered out of swimming, we went inside to set up for our yoga time.

Because Boden's front leg is still bothering him and he's gimping around, we allowed him to stay in the room with us while we did yoga. We can't leave him and Blaise alone unsupervised because their wrestling gets pretty wild, and I don't want Boden's leg getting worse. We gave Blaise and Thatcher bones and blocked them out of the room with a baby gate. With all the dogs seemingly settled down, we started the dvd and tried to get into the zone. We got about two minutes in, when Blaise started whining outside the door. We told her to hush and pressed on with our "relaxing" flow. She then proceeded to cry for the entire 40 minutes. Nothing would stop her. Every 30 seconds or so, we would just hear this sad, pathetic crying. And that's just what was happening outside the room. Mr. Boden thought my yoga mat was placed on the floor for specifically for him. He kept rolling around happily, right under my legs, forcing me to awkwardly stretch around him and fight for my balance. At times he would playfully bite my hands or ankles, assuming that I was on the floor just to entertain him. So I can't quite say our yoga practice was a success, but at least we have plenty of room for improvement. Making through five minutes without having to scold a dog would be a good start. Until next time.

Grass in the desert

With monsoon season and the little bouts of rain we've been getting, something delightful has happened in our backyard: a tiny section of grass sprouted up. It's scraggly and thin, but it is a definite greenish patch of grass. I thought the Newfies would appreciate it more than I do, but they just keep going over and chomping away at it. They seriously will not stop eating it. I can't understand why they want to eat such a precious commodity. I would love to plant grass in our whole backyard, but it's so dry that it would likely quadruple our water bill to try and keep the grass watered. For now, we'll just have to settle for the sad little patch we have that we're stuck sharing with every single insect in the yard.

That's basically all the excitement around here except for yet another health concern with the Newfies - this time Boden. Last Friday I came home from work and Boden was limping pretty badly. I felt his leg, from his shoulder to his paw, and can't seem to find where the pain is coming from. He's pretty clumsy, especially with the slippery tile in our house, so I decided to wait it out a couple of days and see if it improves. In the meantime, I've been excluding him from our daily walks. I have to admit, walking just Thatcher is so much easier than walking both dogs at the same time. He just happily meanders alongside of me, content to be an only dog for these 20 minute outings. Boden is a mess when we have to leave him behind, but I don't want to risk making his leg worse. I'm giving it another couple of days, but I've scheduled a vet appointment for later this week just in case. Once again, I find myself wondering how people with kids do it. Every time I get one dog all taken care of, something happens to the next!

Crazy cousin Blaise

Since moving to AZ, the Newfies have gotten to spend a ton of time with Blaise, my sister's Rottweiler. Although they get along pretty well, she is definitely a different breed from Thatcher and Boden. Where they are mellow and slow-moving, she is spunky and tightly-wound. We always joke that she is Tigger and they are Eeyores. Blaise has endless energy, so as hard as they try, my boys can't keep up with her for too long. One area she really shows them up in is the pool. Thatcher and Boden prefer to glide into the water and swim gracefully so they don't get splashed. Blaise is a jumper and will fly half-way across the pool to get at whatever toy is thrown. We have to make all the dogs take turn when playing fetch in the pool, otherwise the Newifes don't stand a chance. 

Early risers

We ventured out for our first trip to the local dog park this morning. Since the Newfies are still on Minnesota time, I get up with them around 5am each day. Unfortunately, this rule still applies on Saturdays, but the benefit is that the temperature doesn't climb to unbearable levels until a little later in the morning. So as the sun started rising, I gathered some water and loaded up the dogs into the car. As we arrived, I was surprised by the number of people already there. Apparently we're not the only ones with the brilliant idea to exercise the dogs while it's still semi-cool out. We walked through the gates and I let Thatcher and Boden loose.

Most of the people in the park immediately stared, fascinated by our boys. I've never had so many people come up to me and ask me what breed they are or how much they weigh. If I didn't know it then, I definitely know now - extra-large, long-haired breeds aren't very common here. I heard the comment, "That's a lot of dog!" about 40 times. Of course, Thatcher and Boden soaked in their 15 minutes of fame. They happily pranced around side-by-side, looking like a pair of horses and making everyone chuckle. It took less than a half hour to tire them out, and by the time we left they had slobber on every inch of their heads. We got home and jumped into the pool to cool them off. After a few rounds of water-fetch, and they were utterly exhausted. They're now passed out next to me, sleeping soundly. Did I mention it's only 9:30am?

One year later

Yesterday was Boden's first birthday. He might have grown a little bigger in the course of a year, but his personality is the exact same as the day we met him. We couldn't have asked for a more cheerful, loving and sensitive pup. 

Pool play

Turns out that Boden is a little more enthusiastic about our pool than Thatcher is. Whereas Thatcher has always enjoyed splashing around in water, he prefers it to be shallow enough to walk around in. He glides into the water to chase down a ball, but doesn't stay in to actually swim around for too long. We weren't sure how Boden would react to a pool, being as he was born in late summer, and the cooler temperatures set in before we had a chance to introduce him to water. So this weekend has been his first experience actually swimming. Without hesitation, he hopped right in. He isn't the greatest swimmer yet - we've had to keep a close eye on him because he sometimes forgets to paddle his legs and would start sinking. But he is in love with the pool. His favorite activity is to swim over to a human, put his front paws around your neck in a bear hug, and just float with you holding him. One thing we need to teach Boden is that you don't need to jump into the pool every single time you go outside. Last night, right before bed, I let them out to go potty for the last time. Before I had a chance to stop him, Boden climbed into the pool, not a care in the world. I learned my lesson too - remember to close the gates to the pool.

True Minnesota spring

In true Minnesota fashion, the tiniest glimpses of spring we got have been interrupted by another snowstorm. We received a blanket of snow overnight that has yet to let up today. Thatcher and Boden are ecstatic the blustery winter weather has returned. I let them out into the backyard this morning and then poured myself a cup of coffee. When I glanced out the door to check on them, they were both just lying in middle of the yard, contentedly munching on the fresh snow. I bundled up to trek with them to the fields up the street. In fresh, fluffy snow like this, walks end up taking double the time they normally take because every four seconds either a.) the dogs are lying on the ground trying to dig the snow clumps out of their paws; b.) the dogs have stopped to scoop up a few mouthfuls of snow; or c.) Boden is digging out a buried stick or branch.

While on our way to the fields this morning, Boden unburied what looked like a pretty solid stick and carried it for our entire walk. He pretty much always has a stick in his mouth on our walks, so I didn't really pay much attention - not that I could see well anyways with the blowing snow in my face. He frolicked around with this stick the whole time at the park and all of the way back home. As we got back to our yard, I noticed something unusual about it. This stick was actually a shovel. A small, metal gardening shovel. He was so proud of himself, he wouldn't let me or Thatcher get near it. He just pranced around happily, flipping it up into the air and swinging it around. My apologies to the poor neighbor who's now missing their little shovel. Feel free to come claim it, if you can manage to get it away from my proud little puppy.

Open window weather

The last few days have finally felt a little bit like spring. Sun shining, temperatures in the high 40s to low 50s. During the warmer parts of the day, we've been opening windows just to clear the stale winter stuffiness out of the house. Thatcher and Boden now post themselves in front of any open window and monopolize the cool breeze that floats in. They sit with their chins resting on the window sill, sniff out new scents in the air and keep an eye on the ever-increasing squirrel population in the front yard. The snow is mostly melted, except for the few spots of the yard that are shaded from the sun. So Mr. Garbage-Disposal (aka Boden) has taken it upon himself to eat any stick, leaf or clump of dirt he can find. And whenever I let the dogs out to use the bathroom, I find them a few minutes later lying next to each other in the yard, basking in the warm sun. Instead of calling them inside, I let them enjoy this lovely weather all they can before the hot summer months roll around.

Spring fever

Bath day

Thatcher and Boden have super thick coats that require pretty constant care to keep them somewhat tamed. Ever since we first got Thatcher, J. and I found it worked best to divide duties. Grooming is my job, baths are his job. I groom them at least once a week, brushing them out from head to tail. This means fighting through the never-ending matts and dreadlocks, picking out pieces of sticks or food crusties, cleaning ears, etc. I'm not going to lie, it's a messy job. Oddly enough, both of the dogs and I really enjoy this little routine. Whenever I pull out the brushes and grooming wipes, they beeline straight towards me, wagging their tails. 

Baths, although much less frequent, require even more work. We only give baths once every few months. It's not that we're too lazy, but because washing Newfies water-resistant coats too frequently will strip the natural oils away. So yesterday was a much-needed bath day. J. quickly learned with Thatcher, who loves water but absolutely hates being splashed, that the most efficient way to keep him in the bathtub is to be in there with him. Before this, Thatcher used to hate baths and it took pretty much all of J.'s power to just keep him in the tub with that scary water faucet. So J. always strips down to shorts and stands with Thatcher in the shower while he washes him. That's dedication. And it's miraculous how much this helps. Well, that and a portable shower head. Boden doesn't mind baths (this was only his second or third since we got him), and pretty much stands perfectly still the entire time he's being washed.

The best part about baths is how happy the dogs are afterwards. You will never see Thatcher run as fast as he does right after a bath. He sprints around the living room, jumping from the couch to the floor to the couch to the floor, rolling around and barking. I have videos this. We aren't able to sit on the couch until it dries a couple hours later, but it's so worth it to see Thatcher act like a maniac. Boden for some reason is always tired after baths, like they zap him of all of his energy. He crashed for the rest of the afternoon, on our bed of course, all wrapped up in the towel and snoring. I brushed them out after their frizzy hair dried, and now they feel as soft as little ducklings. I'm snuggling them as much as possible, because I know the clean, soft fur only lasts like 6 seconds, before it's once again a crusty, tangled mess.

Elevated what?

Yesterday Boden was supposed to get neutered. I brought him into the vet around 7am and went through the check-in process. Because of their large size, the Newfies get a little special treatment. Instead of having to wait in kennels like other dogs, they usually get an entire exam room or the surgery recovery room to themselves, even just for basic check-ups. So the vet tech took Boden and set him up to await surgery in his own exam room. I filled out the paperwork and the techs told me they'd call when he was ready to be picked up later that afternoon. One item checked off my to-do list.

I went back home to walk Thatcher and feed him breakfast, then headed off to an eye appointment. Feeling good about my morning and everything I was getting done, I arrive at my appointment and begin filling out the required forms. My phone rings, but I didn't know the number so I ignore the call. A moment later I receive a voicemail from this random number. I keep filling out the paperwork with one hand and pick up my phone with the other hand to half-heartedly listen to the message, expecting it to be a telemarketer or my old college asking for a donation. Instead, I hear, "This is Dr. so-and-so. I just looked at the results for Boden's pre-surgery blood work. I found some abnormalities that I need to speak with you about immediately. We'll be postponing his surgery until I am able to speak with you regarding my findings. Please call me back as soon as possible." Wonderful.

Immediately worried, I step out of the eye clinic to call the vet back. In a whirlwind of information, he basically runs through the abnormal findings of the blood tests. I am completely overwhelmed, and only a few words register, "Elevated levels...parathyroid organ...cancer...cholesterol...". I freak out. He asks me if Boden's been acting out-of-the-ordinary at all or if we've been seeing any symptoms of anything. I tell him that if we had been seeing anything weird we would've brought him in sooner. The vet explains that he needs to run some additional tests to try and pinpoint what's going on. Until we know any results (next week), the neuter will have to wait. I tell him to go ahead and run the tests, and he promises to call me when Boden's ready to go home.

I walk back into the eye clinic in a daze of confusion and worry. I honestly can't remember much about the appointment, but right after I leave, the vet calls and says Boden is done. I drive straight over and practically run in the door. The vet tech calmly shows me the bill, and several hundred dollars later, brings me over to the exam room that Boden is happily waiting in. He sees me through the window on the door and dances with joy. Besides the bandage on his arm from the blood draws, he's the same cheerful dog I dropped off earlier. As we're leaving, the vet tech explains that the test results will take a few days, so they'll call us as soon as they know anything. When J. got home from work later that day, I try to explain what is going on, but realize I really have no idea. He decides to call the vet to get more details. This time I am prepared to listen and armed with a notebook. 

Boden's blood work showed elevated levels of bilirubin (can signify liver problems), cholesterol and calcium. According to the vet, the combination of these abnormalities mean it's one of three scenarios. 

1. Problems with the parathyroid organ, which, among other things, regulates the amount of Vitamin D in the body. An elevated calcium level is one of the main signals of this. There are usually no noticeable symptoms, except for what shows in the blood test.
2. Some cancers. The vet thinks this is the least likely, since Boden is so young.
3. These abnormal levels are just normal for Boden.

Obviously, we're crossing our fingers for number 3. But we'll find out more once the test results come in. Until then, we're supposed to just keep an eye out for any unusual symptoms like vomiting, increased drinking, etc. We've been watching Boden last night and today, and he seems to be his normal, spunky self. Let's hope the test results agree. In the meantime, instead of recovering from being neutered, Boden is just rocking a tiny shaved patch on his arm from where they put the needles in.

Spring break visitors

Thatcher and Boden were happy to have visitors at our house for the week. My younger sisters came and stayed with us over their school spring break. The Newfies love pretty much all people, but they especially love girls. I think it's because their true boyish nature kicks in, and they enjoy having someone around to protect and to show off to. So two teenage girls in the house = heaven for the dogs. Since J. and I still had to work, they got to hang out with the girls every day and were lucky enough to get extra walks, romps in the park, and wrestling matches in the backyard. They are still in withdrawals and have been acting a little mopey since the girls left yesterday. 

Snow day

This morning I woke up to a message from my boss with the most delightful news: snow day. We got something like 5-6 inches of snow overnight, so I was thrilled I did not have to attempt the slow commute to work on the unplowed roads. It's been snowing most of the day, and this kind of weather makes me want to snuggle up, drink tea and read a book. Thatcher and Boden have different ideas in mind, and assume that since I am home with them all day, we should probably spend as much time as possible outside in the snow. You can guess which of us has gotten our way. 

Honestly, this snow is a nice change because it covers up the layers upon layers of ice that have formed along every sidewalk and street from the variations in weather this winter. Yesterday, during our morning walk, I slipped on the ice and fell flat on my bottom. The dogs immediately came to my rescue, jumping all over me and trying to make sure I was alright, but preventing me from being able to get back up. So my bruised tailbone is relieved that the ice is covered up for at least the next couple of days. And until then, Thatcher and Boden are once again the happiest Newfies in the world.