Huge Breakthrough!

Sometimes little things can be huge.

Duncan has always been super sensitive about people touching his legs or feet. It's not surprising, really; the poor little guy broke his leg when he was 10 weeks old - right in the middle of the infamous "puppy fear period". Who wouldn't worry about his legs when an innocent bout of tail-chasing can break them?

At first, you took your life (or at least your arm) in your hands if you even reached toward his leg. But with lots of practice and tons of treats, we gradually got to the point where normal things like untangling leashes and grooming were no problem. But twigs or burrs caught on his leg? He freezes. And stresses. He does let us help, but it's clearly difficult for him to let us touch the problem leg, and it requires a very good treat, paid in advance.

Duncan's wire, on the right, with a paperclip

This morning, we were cutting through the schoolyard on our walk, as usual, when Duncan froze. And panted. And looked worried. I couldn't see anything wrong, so I asked him what the problem was. He looked up at me, then looked down at his front leg. I ran my hand over it, and found a little piece of very fine wire caught in his coat - it must have been pricking him. I pulled it off, praised him and we moved on to watch the man lugging old cabinets out of the school. But what a huge step for him; for the first time he actually asked for help, rather than just allowing it!

There's a bumper crop of burrs near the park bridge this year, so it will be interesting to see if he'll start asking for help with them too.

So How Has Your Summer Been?

I'm not sure if he's sticking his tongue out at the new food, or at Duncan!

Duncan has had a quiet but enjoyable summer. Much of it, of course, has been spent lying on air conditioning vents - he hates hot days. At least he's had Jax to play with indoors, though there have been a few minor differences in playing style to adjust to: Duncan defines playing as running, jumping, and wrestling, while Jax defines it as languidly swatting a paw at a piece of yarn, once or twice a week.

But they do share an interest in boxes: Duncan likes to shred them, and Jax likes to lie in them. Preferably just before Duncan can get hold of them. And even if they are a bit lumpy:

Oh, did you want to chew this egg carton? Sorry, it's mine!

We had Erin home for 10 days, which was wonderful. She gives excellent scritches, and is generous with treats. But then she vanished - Duncan hates it when we misplace the kids - so we took him to Scottsdale farm as a consolation outing. We often have the fields to ourselves there, so he can prowl around off-leash. There are so many interesting smells:

He loves to run and run and RUN. Sometimes his butt is tucked under so far as he runs I expect to see a backflip!

 Eventually, though, even a Wheaten gets tired and flops in the nice cool grass for a rest, before leading us back to the car:

You Snooze, You Lose

I'd be lying if I said that Duncan actually enjoys being groomed. But he's pretty good about it, and nearly always jumps up to put his front paws on the table when I ask him to, so I can boost him the rest of the way. This morning, though, he was a bit slow. And someone else jumped the queue:

Jax loves being combed! So I gave him a quick beauty treatment, which perplexed and worried Duncan. This is a dog grooming table. What is this cat doing on it? And worse - what about the treats that usually accompany grooming? Were they safe? (Yes, they were - Jax doesn't eat treats. Ever. Food, he says, means kibble, served in a proper bowl. Nothing else will do.) 

When I lifted Jax down, Duncan wasted no time in hopping up for his turn:

He looks a bit funny, because we got partway through a haircut yesterday before we had to make a run to Cambridge to take Grandma's cat to the vet (she's fine - a much better diagnosis than we feared). So parts of him are looking quite lovely, but his face and legs are still shaggy.

Duncan's Deck's Done! *

Well, after being held up by several rainy weekends, the old deck is gone and the new deck is finally finished, the grading is done, and the sod is down! It looks wonderful!

And, of course, Duncan was a great help through the entire process:

The grading looks okay...

So I pee on this "mulch" stuff around the tree?

A boy and his tools.

Quitting Time!

Working guys get dirty on the job, of course. In fact, you might notice that, from the ankles down, Duncan looks more like a black lab than a wheaten terrier - and this was after a preliminary hose-down on the lawn! So right the photos were taken, he was scooped up and carried to the bathtub. Very embarrassing, but it was the only way he was going to be allowed into the house!

Meanwhile, Jax has his own way of supervising his staff:

Is it suppertime yet?

No? Well, wake me when it is.

* - (Well, almost done. Just the skirting to go, so it's usable.)

Once Is An Accident. Twice... ?

Way back when Duncan was a tiny puppy, he had a Spinning Accident - he broke his leg while spinning in circles, possibly for tail-chasing reasons. He - and we - had a difficult few weeks dealing with splints, tramadol, metacam, x-rays, and other fun stuff, but he healed well and soon it was all in the past.

Was. It was in the past.

No, he didn't break any bones this time, thank goodness, but we have another spinning injury. Friday evening he was vehemently protesting Megan's departure for dinner with friends, and threw a spin or two into the performance. As usual, he settled down as soon as the door closed and all was quiet.

Too quiet. Suspiciously quiet. I went looking for him, and found him under Evan's bed in the basement. He came out from under the bed, but he just wasn't himself all evening. No chasing the cat, just a lick on the face (Jax was taken aback!) No asking for his evening walk. Not even a proper greeting when Dad came home. In other words, he was a perfectly behaved (but perfectly boring) dog. Not our boy at all!

A trip to the vet determined that he had pulled or twisted or strained his back. He's back on his old friends tramadol and metacam for a few days, with orders to rest. No running or jumping, and as few stairs as possible. The meds are easy; he loves them and wishes the doses were bigger. Even the resting hasn't been as difficult as we expected; he's been willing to stay put and nap - a sure sign he's still not feeling well - as long as we don't try to do anything interesting. But he's on the mend today, sneaking downstairs to check up on Jax, so he should be back to normal soon.

In other news, the deck is almost finished; just the last few boards and the edges to do. It would have been done by now if the rain had timed itself better! Needless to say, Duncan has been a great help:

Need help with that, Dad? 

How's a guy supposed to patrol the yard with all this in the way?

Needs a few more boards on this side...

The only thing he doesn't like is the power saw. But he's even coming around to tolerating it, since he discovered that it generates small hunks of cedar that he gets to play with:

Tasty, and it smells good too!

Duncan Gets Back to Work

You might remember that Duncan had a summer job last year, supervising the work crew of the Great Pool Removal Project. Well, he's back to work again this summer! This year's project is removing the old and ugly deck and replacing it with, well, whatever the project evolves into...

As usual, Duncan began his workday by breakfasting on the deck. After a hearty breakfast of kibble au jus with a side of water (he only likes drinking from his water dish when he's outside; indoors he prefers the bathtub), he wandered over to see that things were going well:

Once a few boards were up, it was time to check for rabbits or other critters who might need to be chased out:

Fortunately, they had already moved out, although we did find the remains of some long-ago child's pretend tea party: toy plate, fork, salt shaker, and toy food: two slices of bread, slice of bologna, lettuce leaf, drumstick, and a potato chip.

Only one small problem so far: Duncan got bored watching  us work, so he wandered off, dug up a small patch of grass, and started snacking on the soil underneath before we caught him. He was threatened with a bath, and immediately agreed to stop eating the mud, though it was apparently quite tasty:

He's really been remarkably good while we've been working, except for the power saw, which is scary. He goes into the house where it's not quite as loud, and barks ferociously at it from there.

Crate Issues!

You may remember that way back when he broke his leg as a puppy, Duncan had to spend a lot of time in his wire puppy-crate. Since he grew up, though, he really hasn't used it. He often chooses to use his other crate (plastic and slightly bigger) for an afternoon nap, but the wire one wasn't a favourite so it got stashed away. We recently moved it into the family room while we painted the basement, and he ignored it completely.

Until today. When we found THIS:

Outrageous! Jax had invaded Duncan's beloved crate! With all its happy memories of puppy painkillers! (He did love his pill pockets.) Naturally, Duncan protested vehemently:

Jax was completely unfazed by the noisy creature dancing around his cozy little corner barking at him.

Strangely, when we closed the "front" door of the crate and opened the one in the end facing the wall (with just enough room for a cat to squeeze out), everything was fine again. Duncan went back to guarding the street from passing squirrels and postmen, and Jax settled in for a snooze. Peace. Quiet. At least until he thinks of a new way to taunt the dog...