Dogs Of The House
We mistakenly call Mikey for our first Boxer, Milky. It's easy to see why....M, K, Y...five letters. We also use 'she' and 'her' in reference to Michelangelo. It's hard to believe after four years we'd still have those old habits. I put Milkshake down on 4/9/05, four years ago today. I'm not sappy about anniversaries, but I always remember this one. It was a bad day in my life.
This is young Milkshake.
What Mike does, is remind us of our old dog as much he has makes us love him for being a great pooch himself. Yes, Mikey can be a young punk at the playground, but we're working on that. He thinks he's a tough guy around other dogs, but when a stranger tries to pet him, he hides behind my legs. He's such a big baby.
Milky had zero issues with dominance and she was everyone's best friend, man, women, child, or canine.
The anniversary of her passing made me look at some of the old photos I had of her. We had a lot of fun hiking in New Hampshire.
She loved running ahead, coming back, out in front again, back to us, like a slinky. After a long day of hiking she was pooped. She slept for hours. I made the mistake of feeding her trail mix and letting her drink from mountain streams. One year, we paid the price for my poor judgment on the drive home.
She slept most of the drive from the White Mountains of NH to Boston. As we neared Lexington and Concord on I-95, she woke up and started whining. She needed a nature break. I took the next exit which left me in the middle of the National Battlefield which commemorates the first battle of the Revolutionary War. There was no place to take her for a poop. The park is in the middle of town. People were everywhere.
I stopped at a gas station. Thinking I was letting her out right there, she bolted for the door. When I closed it, leaving her inside, she could no longer hold it. Milkshake sprayed doggie diarrhea all over the inside of my Blazer. My sons started screaming. There was a total evacuation, in more ways than one. I opened the door, she jumped out, and left a trail from my vehicle to a nearby grassy area. It was nasty, un-chewed trail mix, with a foul smell.
I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning my upholstery, flicking away undigested almonds, before we got back on the road. A squirrel came down from his tree and started gathering the nuts. It was so gross but we laughed about the furry creature eating Milky's 'butt almonds' for dinner. My boys loved bathroom humor. We rode the last hour home with the windows open.
One thing they, and other dogs, have in common is their love of the couch. Milkshake would actually pull a blanket up over herself and rest her head on a pillow. It was so funny so watch her 'settle in' for a nap.
We've had Michelangelo for only a month so there are no pet stories written. I'm sure he'll give me a few chapters in the years ahead. Like the time Milky was sprayed by a skunk and the tomato juice bath made her white fur turn orange. Walking an orange dog will earn you a few curious glances. The nights we smuggled her into hotel rooms during our cross country drive, moving to Arizona, we're memorable. She was not very good at being 'incognito' as she insisted at barking at anyone walking past our room.
I took this pic minutes before taking Milky to the vet on that final day. You can clearly see her age compared to her young picture. I really miss my old dog.
Having Michelangelo makes this anniversary much easier. I have a new nickname for our pooch...... Butthead.
Trust me, it suits him.
This is young Milkshake.
What Mike does, is remind us of our old dog as much he has makes us love him for being a great pooch himself. Yes, Mikey can be a young punk at the playground, but we're working on that. He thinks he's a tough guy around other dogs, but when a stranger tries to pet him, he hides behind my legs. He's such a big baby.
Milky had zero issues with dominance and she was everyone's best friend, man, women, child, or canine.
The anniversary of her passing made me look at some of the old photos I had of her. We had a lot of fun hiking in New Hampshire.
She loved running ahead, coming back, out in front again, back to us, like a slinky. After a long day of hiking she was pooped. She slept for hours. I made the mistake of feeding her trail mix and letting her drink from mountain streams. One year, we paid the price for my poor judgment on the drive home.
She slept most of the drive from the White Mountains of NH to Boston. As we neared Lexington and Concord on I-95, she woke up and started whining. She needed a nature break. I took the next exit which left me in the middle of the National Battlefield which commemorates the first battle of the Revolutionary War. There was no place to take her for a poop. The park is in the middle of town. People were everywhere.
I stopped at a gas station. Thinking I was letting her out right there, she bolted for the door. When I closed it, leaving her inside, she could no longer hold it. Milkshake sprayed doggie diarrhea all over the inside of my Blazer. My sons started screaming. There was a total evacuation, in more ways than one. I opened the door, she jumped out, and left a trail from my vehicle to a nearby grassy area. It was nasty, un-chewed trail mix, with a foul smell.
I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning my upholstery, flicking away undigested almonds, before we got back on the road. A squirrel came down from his tree and started gathering the nuts. It was so gross but we laughed about the furry creature eating Milky's 'butt almonds' for dinner. My boys loved bathroom humor. We rode the last hour home with the windows open.
One thing they, and other dogs, have in common is their love of the couch. Milkshake would actually pull a blanket up over herself and rest her head on a pillow. It was so funny so watch her 'settle in' for a nap.
We've had Michelangelo for only a month so there are no pet stories written. I'm sure he'll give me a few chapters in the years ahead. Like the time Milky was sprayed by a skunk and the tomato juice bath made her white fur turn orange. Walking an orange dog will earn you a few curious glances. The nights we smuggled her into hotel rooms during our cross country drive, moving to Arizona, we're memorable. She was not very good at being 'incognito' as she insisted at barking at anyone walking past our room.
I took this pic minutes before taking Milky to the vet on that final day. You can clearly see her age compared to her young picture. I really miss my old dog.
Having Michelangelo makes this anniversary much easier. I have a new nickname for our pooch...... Butthead.
Trust me, it suits him.