Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Why You Should Watch Your Step When Walking Into Elevators

See below for back story about our lil abandoned dog, but we still have her, now named River (named for where I found her, not for how she likes to pee all the time in our apartment, which is true as well).

Speaking of, we are trying to house train her. I've been so busy though that I haven't had a chance to get a crate. So, what we tried to do was, restricting her water after her late night walk, and then get out ASAP in the morning with her and Kilo.

Monday morning, she peed in the apartment as I was too long to get her and Kilo leashed.
Tuesday morning, we decided Josie would just run her out while I got Kilo. Josie quickly got dressed, got her leashed and ran out the door. I soon followed with Kilo. I knew our plan didn't work as I saw pee on the floor outside the elevator. Finally, the elevator came....And there was Josie and River, with a few other people. And River was in the midst of pooping. Swell.

I was about to get in but I decided not to. I said I'll take the next one, never even acknowledging that I knew Josie/River. And then I thought, why were they going down? Where were they?

Later Josie filled me in on what happened - Apparently River continued her pee inside the elevator. When they got to the basement, Josie was still cleaning it up and wasn't able to leave before the elevator heading back up to the 10th floor. After a few people on, River pooped.

The best part is that after the door closed when I said I'd wait for the next elevator, someone in the elevator told Josie (not knowing we were married), "Good thing. That guy's dog is hard to handle."


P.S. This morning, Josie CARRIED River outside. Success!

Thursday, September 9, 2010

This Is Why I Hate People

This morning, I was walking Kilo, just outside Riverside Park, when I cam across a pet carrier. Upon closer inspection, I saw there was a dog in there. I noticed she didn't have a collar or any tags.


When I opened the carrier, I could immediately tell she was malnourished. I also guessed she's a Cockapoo. I had no idea how old she was, but I could feel her spine and ribs when I stroked her back and sides.

Feeling like a seven year old, I brought her home (Surprise Josie!) and later took her to the vet. The good news is she seems to be fine, though her weight, at 8 pounds is about a third of what it should be (the vet estimated her age at three).

We are gonna keep her for now, though not sure if it will be permanent as adding a skittish Cockapoo to our household, which includes an energetic pittie and a pregnant wife may not be the most brilliant of ideas.

Then again, who said I was brilliant?