Dogs & People

Today at work I had a lady drop off her dog for boarding, and she jokingly told us not to 'kick her dog or anything'. I'm used to people being weird. We're all slightly crazy anyway. But I found her joke a bit appalling to be honest. I understand some boarding facilities aren't what they ought to be; I've heard plenty of horror stories. But that doesn't mean I understand the rationale behind the violence. Maybe it bothered me more because of all the animal abuse cases I've heard of recently. I'm not sure. I just can't figure out those abuse cases. Everybody slips up. In a moment of frustration or anger you may push your dogs butt down or pull a little harder than you meant to. But to purposefully harm an animal just because you can? Mentally, there's something not right. I realize this commentary isn't really about Kilo, but it's inspired by Kilo. How someone could look at him, and see how complex his emotions and personality are, how different he is from every other dog, and then still abuse him, quite honestly baffles me. Every dog is unique, they have their own personality shining through from the moment they start to crawl. Every dog ought to be special to its owner, otherwise what's the point in having them?
Kilo, mom, grandma and I went to the park on Monday. We made a field trip of it and Kilo had lots of fun running around and being his rotten self. He made friends with a basset hound named Henry and while they started off a little rocky, they finally discovered the perfect solution: Kilo ran all around, and Henry ran in circles trying to catch him. My big puppy is a bit too large to play with most of the dogs that show up at the dog park. He loves to wrestle but a thirty pound basset hound doesn't qualify for Kilos weight class. Luckily chase works no matter what size you are and even if Henry wasn't quite keeping up Kilo still wore himself out.

76 lbs now & sleepy

I know I've said it before, but really, no adventure anywhere with Kilo is complete unless there's been some mayhem, shouting and lots of unwanted attention. He keeps proving it to me time and time again. The dog park is fenced in. Fenced in down into the water so that the dogs don't just run along the shore and get loose. But the fence obviously has to end somewhere and it stops about ten feet into the water. No biggie right? Well, it turns out it is a biggie when your 'grass is always greener' hound spots a stick on the other side of the fence, swims around the barricade to retrieve it, and then can't figure out how to get back to his screaming owner. I'm busy calling and gesticulating to the crazy animal while Mom attempts to dash through a horde of pet owners, their friendly dogs and three dog gates. The whole time I'm trying, once again, to decide if I need to wade into the cold lake water. Deja vu anyone? Kilo finally figured out how to back track just as mom made it through to the other side. And breathe. I'm just grateful that a squirrel or rabbit didn't catch Kilos eyes whilst he was unrestrained because I'd be minus one heart-attack inducing Leo, and as much as I complain about him, the dogs starting to grow on me a little bit.

Insurance

Kilo & Dad

This week Kilos leg got better without having to go back to the vet. This week Kilo was signed up for medical insurance. If it were technologically possible you would feel a breeze waft through your hair at this moment, caused by the collective sigh of my familiar unit. Knowing Kilo is now covered for any future catastrophic events has provided all of us with a priceless commodity: peace of mind. Most of Kilos life has been a blur of unfortunate events and I keep waiting for the giant ball to drop. At least now, if it does drop, we have the means to not only drag it off of him, but to fix the damage it caused as well. The pet insurance companies should consider copying the credit card commercials. It'd show a bunch of cute photographs of the owner and their dog running through a field playing ball while a disembodied voice said "Tennis Balls: $10" then the dog would trip and start limping. Cut to an animal hospital, "Broken Bone: $600" Then the dogs in a cast with a smiling owner. "Having the money to fix your best friend: Priceless." . . . Though I suppose that kind of commercial is a little melancholy.

We tried out camping this week. Kilo is not yet ready for camping. When he wasn't trying to catch drifting embers in his mouth, he was busy barking at his terrifying shadow. He only got to stay for about an hour before I drug him home and made a mental note to try again next year when his maturity level has grown past a two year olds.

Kilo discovered a new source of cold water:

Really? I mean, really?!

Before we brought Kilo home I went through the house making sure things were safe for the new puppy. I made sure to cover the hardwood floor with rugs, I meticulously picked up all small or dangerous objects and went over the puppy rules with everyone in the family. Now I feel like the mother who dutifully padded all sharp cabinet corners and covered every electrical outlet only to have her child run into the glass door and knock himself out.
This week Kilo hurt himself by running. Running on what would for most dogs, be obviously safe, natural grass. Not for Kilo. Oh no. That normal, everyday grass reared up and dealt our lovable puppy a hard blow. Tuesday night Kilo started limping after running gleefully across a field of waving grass and prairie flowers. Let this be a warning to all of you. Peaceful scenes of people and animals running through fields are dangerous misinterpretations of reality. Kilo and I now know this. After two days of worry and another vet bill. Yes, we went to the vet again. Kilo is such a wuss that he refused to bear any weight on his front right paw and finally convinced me he was injured enough to warrant another veterinary experience. The vet says he most likely pulled a muscle. Running. On a non-slippery surface. I'm going to make Kilo go to work and pay for his own vet bills. I figure it'll make him less of a wuss.

Kilo was very badly behaved at the vets office. For one thing, he's a wuss, for another, he hates being restrained and he really hates being messed with by strangers. Today we hit all three, at the same time. He was quite unhappy. I now have another undesired behavior to overcome. Luckily the vet was very nice about his fussiness, but mother and I were less than thrilled. Something else to work on. Oh yes, and Kilo is under strict orders to have limited exercise until he is back to normal . . . Please pray for us.

Crazy Kilo

This week Kilo decided to try out the art of mauling. I'm not a fan. Kilo being the stubborn juvenile that he is has yet to pick up on that fact. This week, usually in the evening because that's when his craziness reaches its ultimate high, he's been leaping up at me and mouthing me as if I were one of his canine buddies. I am most certainly not a canine buddy nor am I sure that even his doggy friends would appreciate his enthusiasm. Once the attack signal has gone off in his brain the only thing I can do is stomp on his leash and make him 'settle' until the bug has crawled out. I'll be very happy once the infant figures out his latest discovery isn't getting him any further than the floor.

Today I thought I'd get some cleaning done. Today I thought wrong. My day went something like this. . .
Dust an object. Glance to check on Kilo. Take foreign object away from Kilo. Put object back where it belongs. Return to dusting. Search for duster. Chase Kilo to retrieve duster. Dust an object. Clean up Kilos dumped water bowl. Dust an object. Dust another object. Progress! Find cardboard container Kilo ripped to shreds. Clean glass. Take duster away from Kilo. Wipe Kilos nose print off glass. Get vacuum out. Make Kilo sit while vacuum is on. Start to polish a chair. Stop Kilo from eating vacuum cord. Stop Kilo from dumping his water bowl over. Finish polishing chair. . .
And so it continued. ALL DAY. Kilo skipped his usual nap in order to further disrupt the cleaning process. I was highly tempted to let him become more acquainted with his crate. But, he's going to have to learn to behave himself and he can only do that if given the opportunity and some very strict guidance. He's definitely the most challenging and expressive dog I have ever owned.

The following picture is how Kilo looks when gazing at the duster. We call it 'crazy eyes'. If he looks like this bad things usually follow.

See how dark he's getting? Lots of black hair now.

Hotel Leo

Everyone knows that there are some things in this world that just don't mix well. Like oil and water, or permanent marker and two year olds. If you own a Leonberger or ever dream of owning one, please add 'Leonbergers and hotels' to your list. To be honest I didn't think twice about taking Kilo to a hotel. Generally he's pretty well behaved (as long as I'm sitting on him 24/7) so no big deal right? Well it wasn't a big deal at first. Kilo didn't mind the lobby full of people, weird smells, lifting rooms, or small children. No, all of that was a little unnerving, but quite manageable to his doggy brain. Trouble didn't come until we went out for his potty break and saw "Cape Lady".

So, here I am, calmly leading Kilo out to go potty, past a bunch of small children and out the front doors. I'm thinking, 'Wow! He didn't even try to eat any of those tiny creatures, life is good!' Ten seconds later, as we come upon Cape Lady unloading her luggage in the pull around Kilo comes unhinged. As in: loud barking, hair up, yanking on leash unhinged. He was terrified, but he was expressing his terror in a very non friendly way (read 'scary' here). I had to literally drag him out into the field and walk him back and forth for forty minutes before he finally calmed down enough for me to get him back in the hotel. What was so terrifying about Cape Lady, you ask? I haven't the foggiest, except that she had a very billowy, linen wrap-around on and it was windy out. The rest of the night Kilo was the definition of alert. Until I drugged him with benadryl. I really need to buy some stock in that medicine. Is that even possible? If it is then go buy some because I can probably single-handedly keep them in business. Think it was unfair of me to drug the dog up again? Consider the fact that Leos are considered 'watch dogs' and then add in a bunch of strangers making noise in rooms that are inaccessible. Kilo's perfectly friendly (unless you're Cape Lady), but if he doesn't know you and on top of that can't see you, he'll bark. Not his puppy bark either. The loud, window vibrating, big boy bark. The 'going to get us kicked out of the hotel' bark. We held out till midnight. For two hours we tried the sober approach. Kilo sat next to me on the bed, and I held a bag of treats. Kilos ears went up, head turned towards the door, body completely motionless and I knew . . . Bomb Planted. Defuse now or disturb the neighbors. So for two hours I dutifully distracted him with a treat every time someone slammed a door. Realistically I just wasn't going to be able to do that all night. So, at midnight we gave in, dossed Kilo up to take the edge off his nerves and went to sleep. Ah, benedryl, how I love thee. The next day we pack up, head home, no problems. Kilo is a prefect little car traveler and he's resting quite comfortably in the knowledge that Cape Lady will never visit his house or even get within ten feet of him.

72lbs

Last week Kilo managed to destroy a record breaking number of items:
-2 laptop charger cords (His total so far is: 5)
-1 leather leash
-1 training leash (Do not ever tie your leonberger to a tree while you pack the car up. Just take my advice on this one)
-1 high heel shoe

Parting Gifts

Today was our last day in West Virginia and of course we just couldn't leave without a few parting gifts. Like a couple yellow jacket stings, and of course, some mandatory fleas. Poor Kilo. The yellow jackets got him because he's a blundering fool who foolishly disturbed the bush they were encamped under. They were not happy. So Kilo got stung by some insects and then dossed up on benadryl by his paranoid owner - we don't need any more complications right now, especially not of the allergic reaction emergency vet bill kind. No, no thank you, benadryl is a lot cheaper. Luckily Kilo is already on flea prevention, due to the fact that he likes to go romping through high grass and generally enjoys outdoor activities that result in flea infestations. So the flea problem will go away shortly, but I really hate fleas. I hate the whole idea of them. Nasty little things.

Oh, and the general consensus from West Virginia is that Kilo is one very unusual and large dog. A typical conversation went something like this:
Stranger: "What kind of dog is that?"
Me: "A Leonberger."
Stranger: "A what?"
Me: "A Leonberger."
Stranger: nonplussed look
Me: "l-e-o-n-b-e-r-g-e-r"
Stranger: "Huh. Never seen a dog like that before. Cute though."
People generally equate him to either a bear or a lion, no one can decide, but they all agree that he's 'big'. I'm beginning to think that Kilos knocked some of my brains out because he doesn't seem all that big to me anymore. Sometimes I even think he's a bit on the small side.

Surviving Temptation

This week we've been at Grandmas. If I were to write a book about this week it would without question be called: Surviving Temptation! Hence, the theme of this post. Everything within reach is new and interesting and mouth worthy. Wonder what Kilo just can't say no to? Here's a short list:

#1 on Kilos wish list: Cuddles!

No, not the stuffed toy on the right. See the fuzzy thing on the left? The one that's glaring? That's Grandmas dog. Cuddles.She's only cuddly if you're Grandma. The rest of the world and all moving things in it, she hates. As in, 'I'll bite you' hates. If you have enough patience and persistence she might, eventually, maybe, deign to let you pet her. If you're Kilo you have no chance of ever getting within ten feet of her without eliciting growling and baring of fangs. You can see his dilemma though right? She's tiny like his toys, squishy like his toys and she even squeaks like his toys! Why shouldn't he try and play with her?

#2 on Kilos wish list: Artificial Plants

In this blog I've already covered Kilos love of anything artificially plant like. So you won't be surprised when I tell you that many of grandmas flowering arrangements were in dangerous straits at various points during our stay. How tempting though! Especially when they're Kilo size.

#3 on Kilos wish list: FOOD!

Grandmas table is considerably shorter than our table at home, which means everything is right within Kilos reach. Poor doggy had a terrible time controlling himself when meal time came around. I mean, it's right there!

#4 on Kilos wish list: A Big Bed

Kilo isn't allowed up on the furniture but I do allow him to be up on the bed. However, he's too big for my bed at home so he always gets shoved off onto the floor. Grandmas bed is a perfect Kilo size bed. Large, soft, and comfy; and as an added bonus it includes his favorite people whom he can smother and attack to his hearts content.

Here's a few more of my favorite pictures of Kilo at Grandmas (just in case you didn't get enough of him already).woods, woods, wonderful woods
full of tasty sticks!

dog toy + bed = bliss

look out! he's gonna eat her!

ah, wonderful deck
bugs to chase, trees to stare at, and a fresh smelly breeze