Tag Archives: Yorkie

Groomer = 0 Casey = 1

There is a long history to Casey being groomed.  When we first got him as a puppy, he had long hair which 10-year-old Christina promised to faithfully brush every single day if only we would let her keep him.

Fast forward two years. Of course the now 12-year-old Christina had absolutely no idea how much work it would take to keep Casey’s fur nice. Which meant she didn’t brush him everyday.  Which meant he would get tangles and mats in his fur. When it got really bad, we would make an appointment with Tracy to get him groomed. It only took Tracy two times grooming Casey before she suggested to Christina that she try a new haircut for Casey. It was called “a puppy cut with a teddy bear face.”  I think the only thing Christina really heard at the time was “you won’t have to worry about brushing him.” It was a great idea and the perfect haircut. Even now at the old age of 13 Casey still looks like a little puppy with this cute haircut. Of course this doesn’t mean that Casey enjoys being groomed; he absolutely hates it.

Because we moved around a lot, there were a few different groomers.  The first time Stella groomed Casey she asked if we could possibly get some doggie valium for the next visit.   Groomer Trish said she worked it out where Casey would get “a little bit of grooming over a 4-hour period of time” so both of them could get through the ordeal. I loved Denise the best.  The first time she groomed Casey she handed him back to Christina and said, “He’s a brat.”  It was nice to find someone so  honest.

Another issue I know I have mentioned before is called poopie butt. When Casey gets poopie butt, he immediately needs a bath and also an appointment to be groomed.  Whoever is at home when it happens has to give him a bath. And trust me, no one wants to do that. And you can immediately tell when Casey has poopie butt because he has “that look.”  You know, the one when you are potty training a toddler and they go in their big boy pants but don’t want to admit it.

New home – new groomer.  Christina made an appointment weeks in advance (no one grooms on a weekend here, can you believe that?) and took him to the new groomer on Friday.  And then picked him up. Without being groomed.

“We couldn’t groom Casey because he was uncooperative.”

“So what? He is 7 pounds.”

“It seemed like we were really upsetting him.”

“So what? He needs to be groomed. And he is only 7 pounds.”

“We’re sure you didn’t want us to force the issue.”

“Umm, yes I did. There is this thing called poopie butt.  Did I mention he is only 7 pounds?”

So the end result is Casey did not get groomed but he did get a nice and quick butt trim. What we are more worried about is that he now thinks he can get out of being groomed. Hopefully there is a groomer somewhere in this city who won’t let a 7 pound Yorkie make that decision.

Because it’s all about the pets, ’bout the pets, here’s pictures:

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASomeone needs to tell Boca that his ass is too big for the box. But it isn’t going to be me.  He is being a huge scary brat because he can’t go outside and hunt due to all the snow and cold weather.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERACasey hates the vacuum.  And I moved the big dog bed.  He doesn’t care.  I think he feels safe.  Until I pull on the vacuum cord.

AbbeyThis is Abbey saying “I don’t care what time it is, it’s a Saturday and I want to sleep in!”  (Actually, that is me talking – Abbey is just channeling the same sentiment because she is my dog.  Okay let me clarify that – as long as she has been fed that is).

Baby Dog Bed

Now, I really think Dora dog is wondering why she got the crappy bed that is too small for her and the baby gets the nice big one…

The Stealthy Pet Fart

Sometimes I wish I could just go into my bedroom and spend the evening all alone catching up on episodes of Cupcake Wars or reading a book.  But it is never that simple.  Because when I do decide to have an evening “alone” I end up with all the animals with me.

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Now, Abbey (my Golden Retriever) I get.  Because Abbey is my dog and every dog I have ever owned is a sleep hound.  So when I go to bed, Abbey is always glued to me, all excited to go to bed when I do.  And she can do this for 14 hours straight; just like me as well.

Casey (Our Yorkie) will only come with me if his owner, Christina isn’t home.  But then he is insistent that I leave the door cracked open a tad because heaven forbid if Christina comes home and Casey doesn’t immediately know it.  You can only take his scratching on the bottom of the door so many times before you just give in.

Boca & CaseyBoca-cat strolls in and out as he wishes.  And when he wants attention, he will get into bed next to me, purring loudly and generally invading any sense of my personal space.  And sometimes bite.  Usually if Casey is on the bed and Boca gets on the bed, Casey will leave.  Because he is afraid of Boca.  Then again, everyone is afraid of Boca.

So last night I was reading a book in bed.  Abbey was in her bed, Casey was lying by the door and Boca was bothering me by rubbing his head against the spine of my book.

And then it happened. The stealthy pet fart.

Now, for those of you who have never had this experience, it is not a good one.  Because the pet fart is totally different from our farts.  For one thing, it is much more odorous – and I don’t mean that in a coconut/Hawaiian incense kind of way.  More like a dead vermin mixed with generic baked beans kind of way.

And you don’t really know which pet is responsible.  For instance, do cats even fart?  I mean, I am sure they must but I have never been in a situation where I know for certain that Boca farted.   I have with both the dogs, though.  Because if there is a sudden fart stench and the dog and I are the only ones in the room; well I am pretty smart to figure that one out.

Of course, afterwards you immediately begin bitching at all three pets, get the febreeze air freshener and spray the room, light some incense, open the bedroom door and turn on the ceiling fan.  Usually within a one minute time frame or you are literally going to pass out from the smell.

And I did eventually find out who the culprit was.  Abbey.  Before midnight my husband was sleeping in the office; I was out on the couch and Abbey was in her bed, farting away with the whole bedroom to herself.  She really has to stop eating cat food.

Our Dog Eats Cat Food

We recently took all three pets to the vet for their annual visit.  Yorkie-dog Casey was the worst, as usual.  He actually made the vet inject himself in the hand with his rabies vaccination.  The vet was nice about it but I still blame Christina who raised him.  Previous groomers have called Casey “Wiggle Worm Squirmy” and “Full of Energy.”  When our current groomer gave Casey his first haircut and bath, she told Christina “Your dog is a Brat.” I love honest people.  (I think the only difference between the groomer and the vet is that we have to pay the vet a lot more so he feels like he has to be more politically pet correct).

And then there is the whole food issue. 

Our Golden Retriever, Abbey cannot eat canned dog food.  No, I take that back. She can eat canned dog food but you are also guaranteed she will have doggie diarrhea afterwards.  So the only dog food she gets is dry dog food.  But Abbey knows anything is better than her dry dog food.  So she will eat the leftover canned cat food, Casey’s canned dog food, Boca’s dry cat food and any food left in the trash or counter (called counter-surfing in dog lingo). The only thing Abbey will not eat is Boca’s dead vermin that he brings into the house and leaves in the downstairs bathroom.

And when Abbey eats canned cat food, she farts.  And they are stealthy and stinky. I can’t tell you how many arguments my husband and I had about who is farting in the bedroom at night until we finally realized it was the dog. 

Now, Casey likes canned dog food or dry cat food or steak.  But only the good steak; don’t try to give him the fat or gristle because he won’t eat it.  He has been eating dry cat food for the past nine years.  Our vet said it is okay for a dog to eat cat food, but it isn’t okay for the cat to eat dog food.  Which is fine because our cat, Boca, will only eat cat food (well, except for the vermin that he catches and selectively eats).   And Boca loves canned cat food early in the morning but only the gravy part of the food; he leaves the rest in his bowl. And if there isn’t dry cat food throughout the day you can count on being bitten in the ankles until his bowl is filled.      

The other day Boca got into the food pantry and used Abbey’s bag of dry dog food as a scratching post to sharpen up his claws.  All that was left was a shredded mess.

In order to save the remaining dog food, I took out a big plastic container that we had previously used to store cereal and put  the salvageable dog food in it.  And put it back in the pantry.

At first Abbey was excited because she thought she was getting fed dry cat food (also kept in a plastic container) but was disappointed to discover that it was her regular old boring dry dog food.  Once my husband discovered I had put dog food in the cereal container, he said he will never use it again. 

I’m thinking  I can use that to my advantage for future reference.