Love Possums, Hate Rain: Dog-Sitting Report 3
December 20, 2006
It's raining. Still. Unlike the boys, who are gleefully playing in the mud, Mercy absolutely hates going out into the rain. This has resulted in a wet spot on the carpet (soaked up with a towel and deodorized with pet-odor cleaner).
When I took her out she absolutely refused to leave the covered porch--just pulled back on the leash, wouldn't go out on the muddy ground. It was almost as though she were afraid, or as though the mud and rain was an unbearable sensation for her. I don't think she was being defiant; it seemed more like, "I just can't, I can't, please don't make me"--kind of a passive-refusal sort of thing.
That would explain her accident earlier today. She peed on the porch twice today, and not at all in the yard. (The porch is dirty and muddy, like the rest of the yard, and it doesn't matter, thankfully. I really want to get rid of the disgusting green fake gras that covers the concrete though; it's going to smell if Mercy keeps on doing that.)
December 21, 2006
So Mercy had two more accidents today. Stupid mud. But it did allow me to make what I think might be an interesting discovery... Tell me if I'm right?
The first time I discovered she'd peed on the carpet... just cleaned it up and sprayed odor-remover on it. I think the current odor-remover mightn't be too good, though, because she peed pretty close to the same spot. We had one of those enzymatic cleaners before; this one's just perfumey. It works for my nose, but for Beagle-nose? No way.
I have a cold... it's not all that bad, but I don't like walking around outside while Mercy decides whether or not to do her business. I've been putting her on her tether for 15 minutes at a time and watching from the window; somehow, leaving her alone helps. When I see her squatting, I go outside and do the usual praise-and-reward routine, and let her in.
Well, today I must have brought her back too early, because as soon as I turned my back, Mercy squatted and pooped on the basement floor! I said "NO" to her; and she hunched her back, like she does when she's afraid, backed away, and hid behind a crate to poop again. At this point I collared her and took her outside, where she finished and I told her what a wonderful dog she was.
Anyhow, I wonder whether this incident mightn't point to Mercy being afraid in general of relieving herself when there's a human around? I wish I knew whether it really does help to leave her outside alone, and whether she really was hiding from me to finish her business. How do you tell the difference between defiance and fear? She's generally very compliant.
Okay, enough philosophizing about potty habits. I should tell you about the 'possum.
Apparently, 'possums like dog food; because this one--a big specimen with light, plush fur and a long, ratlike sort of tail--was crunching away at the leftover dog food outside when Mercy and I came outdoors. Mind you, it was still raining, still muddy--and not just a little muddy; this is a yard that is literally one big mud puddle. I've lost my flip-flops more than once when they got stuck into the mud.
Mercy hates this mud even more than I do--intensely, insanely hates it. So, since I assumed I'd have to persuade her to step onto the mud, I was holding the leash only loosely when I stepped outside--and when we encountered said opossum.
Picture this:
This is one of those situations in which it would be much better to be an animal, who just reacts, instead of being a stubbornly cognitive human!
But thankfully, before I could so much as move, the situation resolved itself: Under the shed, in the hole, was a mud puddle to end all mud puddles. The 'possum, running for its life, apparently hadn't minded getting dirty--but Mercy, all girl and muddy paws already reminding her what it was like to be dirty, had to stop and think about whether or not she wanted to follow the 'possum.
That stopping and thinking gave me just enough time to grab her leash and pull her away. I think she was actually kind of glad to follow me, since doing so got her out of the mud puddle!
Who ever would have thought that Mercy's hatred of mud would save the day?
(By the way, if you get a dog to roll over, it's surprisingly easy to scrub its muddy paws with a wet rag! Full bath: Unnecessary.)
It's raining. Still. Unlike the boys, who are gleefully playing in the mud, Mercy absolutely hates going out into the rain. This has resulted in a wet spot on the carpet (soaked up with a towel and deodorized with pet-odor cleaner).
When I took her out she absolutely refused to leave the covered porch--just pulled back on the leash, wouldn't go out on the muddy ground. It was almost as though she were afraid, or as though the mud and rain was an unbearable sensation for her. I don't think she was being defiant; it seemed more like, "I just can't, I can't, please don't make me"--kind of a passive-refusal sort of thing.
That would explain her accident earlier today. She peed on the porch twice today, and not at all in the yard. (The porch is dirty and muddy, like the rest of the yard, and it doesn't matter, thankfully. I really want to get rid of the disgusting green fake gras that covers the concrete though; it's going to smell if Mercy keeps on doing that.)
December 21, 2006
So Mercy had two more accidents today. Stupid mud. But it did allow me to make what I think might be an interesting discovery... Tell me if I'm right?
The first time I discovered she'd peed on the carpet... just cleaned it up and sprayed odor-remover on it. I think the current odor-remover mightn't be too good, though, because she peed pretty close to the same spot. We had one of those enzymatic cleaners before; this one's just perfumey. It works for my nose, but for Beagle-nose? No way.
I have a cold... it's not all that bad, but I don't like walking around outside while Mercy decides whether or not to do her business. I've been putting her on her tether for 15 minutes at a time and watching from the window; somehow, leaving her alone helps. When I see her squatting, I go outside and do the usual praise-and-reward routine, and let her in.
Well, today I must have brought her back too early, because as soon as I turned my back, Mercy squatted and pooped on the basement floor! I said "NO" to her; and she hunched her back, like she does when she's afraid, backed away, and hid behind a crate to poop again. At this point I collared her and took her outside, where she finished and I told her what a wonderful dog she was.
Anyhow, I wonder whether this incident mightn't point to Mercy being afraid in general of relieving herself when there's a human around? I wish I knew whether it really does help to leave her outside alone, and whether she really was hiding from me to finish her business. How do you tell the difference between defiance and fear? She's generally very compliant.
Okay, enough philosophizing about potty habits. I should tell you about the 'possum.
Apparently, 'possums like dog food; because this one--a big specimen with light, plush fur and a long, ratlike sort of tail--was crunching away at the leftover dog food outside when Mercy and I came outdoors. Mind you, it was still raining, still muddy--and not just a little muddy; this is a yard that is literally one big mud puddle. I've lost my flip-flops more than once when they got stuck into the mud.
Mercy hates this mud even more than I do--intensely, insanely hates it. So, since I assumed I'd have to persuade her to step onto the mud, I was holding the leash only loosely when I stepped outside--and when we encountered said opossum.
Picture this:
- A frightened opossum, mouth still half full of dog food, scuttling across the yard and into the excavations under the shed.
- A brown-and-white mutt, tail up, full alert, racing after the oppossum like a fangirl who's just seen Legolas walk by.
- A surprised human girl, who still doesn't quite understand that the leash she was holding a second ago is now dragging along behind said mutt.
This is one of those situations in which it would be much better to be an animal, who just reacts, instead of being a stubbornly cognitive human!
But thankfully, before I could so much as move, the situation resolved itself: Under the shed, in the hole, was a mud puddle to end all mud puddles. The 'possum, running for its life, apparently hadn't minded getting dirty--but Mercy, all girl and muddy paws already reminding her what it was like to be dirty, had to stop and think about whether or not she wanted to follow the 'possum.
That stopping and thinking gave me just enough time to grab her leash and pull her away. I think she was actually kind of glad to follow me, since doing so got her out of the mud puddle!
Who ever would have thought that Mercy's hatred of mud would save the day?
(By the way, if you get a dog to roll over, it's surprisingly easy to scrub its muddy paws with a wet rag! Full bath: Unnecessary.)