My sister has always been terrified of dogs. I am not exactly sure why. We did not have them as pets growing up. I was bitten by a neighbor’s dog as a child, which my sister did witness, however it was not really that traumatic, at least not for me. No broken skin, no dreaded rabies shots needed. As soon as I moved out on my own I got my first dog. For as long as I can remember my sister would get a stricken look on her face whenever she saw a dog other than mine. The only dogs I ever saw my sister not flinch around were the dogs I had as an adult. I guess because they were mine, she was okay with them. She knew they were always good around my children, even when they were babies so maybe this eased her fears.

Three of my sister’s children, ages 16, 14, & 10, wanted a dog. Her adopted, now-adult daughter, KK never really said much on the subject of dogs throughout the years but my sister’s husband grew up with them. My sister would not budge on the subject. She would allow my dog to come and visit, but that was about it

Enter Stage Left- Phoenix.

She is the adorable fawn-colored boxer pictured in this post. Phoenix had a shaky start in life. Her mom suffered from a complication during delivery and despite emergency treatment, passed away within 48 hours of giving birth to her litter of puppies. There were 10 in total, however she was only able to deliver 4 of the puppies. One died shortly after birth. Phoenix and her brindle sister and brother, Dayton and Memphis, survived but had to be bottle fed. With a lot of love, prayers and fierce determination, my niece, K.K., was able to save all 3 of the puppies.  (How K.K. came to care for these puppies is a story for another day.) The 3 very tiny puppies born in June became a regular part of all family functions. I remember a Fourth of July party quite clearly. When the puppies were not resting in their blanket-lined carrier, they were passed around to be held and kept warm, or to be bottle fed. My sister did not really see them as dogs, but more as babies that lost their mother. That was the beginning of her conversion.

The puppies grew, and grew, and grew. Soon it became apparent to my niece that having 3 dogs in an apartment was not ideal. Many people inquired about taking the puppies but K.K. could not bear the thought of giving them up, they had become her children. She needed help. My sister, much to the delight of her younger children, decided to take 1 of the puppies so that K.K. would still get to see her regularly. Although she was still a little leery of having a large, four-legged bundle of frenetic energy in the house, my sister, knowing the three dogs since they were 3-days old was not afraid of them. A family vote decided that it would be Phoenix that came to live with them.

My sister was going to have rules. No dogs on the bed. No dogs on the couch. Phoenix was a DOG. She was going to sleep in a kennel at night. Face-licking was going to be discouraged. When it was time to go to the vets, Phoenix would be allowed to ride in the family mini-van only. All care of the dog was going to be up to the children. Are you dog-lovers laughing yet? I know I was when I heard all this.

Phoenix moved in. She missed her brother and sister. She was used to sleeping curled up with Memphis and Dayton. She was raised with tons of human affection and attention and she planned on keeping it that way.
My sister caved like a house of cards on a windy day. She could not bear to see the puppy with her sad eyes when it was bed time. She could not stand to listen to her lonely whines. She learned that is was really quite comfortable to have the dog curl up on her feet at the end of the couch while watching a movie, keeping her warm. She realized that she liked it when Pheeny wanted to nuzzle with her adorable face. She decided she just couldn’t bear the oh-so-sad look on the dog’s face when everyone was getting ready to leave in the morning. 

Fast forward 6 months.  Phoenix does not sleep in a kennel. Phoenix does sleep in the bed. My sister is often squished between her husband and the dog. Phoenix makes herself comfortable on the couch when the family is hanging out. Phoenix is a face-licker. Phoenix goes to work with my sister on most days. She comes to our parents house for family get-togethers. My sister arranges play dates for the dog. Phoenix has her own pillow in my sister’s car. If my sister is wearing leopard print, Phoenix has on a coordinating leopard print collar.

My sister’s conversion is complete- She has become one of us.

My sister is now a proud  dog lover.

Dog Breed Gifts at Whales & Friends

I have taken my various animals, which have included cats, dogs, ferrets and fish, to several different vets over the years as moving long distance dictated changing veterinary offices. In my experience, there are basically 2 types of these medical professionals.

“The Animal Lover” is a person who has a house full of pets. He or she will sit on the floor to play with your dog until his tail wags with the intensity of jet propulsion and laughs when a nervous pooch accidentally pees on their shoe. They have pockets full of treats that keep your dog’s nose glued to their lab coat. You have the sense that their pockets are always full of treats even when they are not at work. When faced with a terrified cat stuck to the side of a pet carrier with claws bared, this vet will open the door of the carrier, walk to the other side of the room and pretend that the carrier and its hissing contents are not there, allowing the animal to feel a little less threatened. When the  hissing and screeching sounds subside, this type of vet will look into the carrier and speak calmly to the animal.  By the end of the visit, this very put-out pet may or may not be purring, but at least its ears are no longer pinned back in terror and murderous rage, and whatever medical attention was needed has been successfully given.  When taking your vet to “The Animal Lover” you should be prepared to wait a little longer to be seen and understand that you will be there for a while, as this type of vet is frequently running late, not because they are rude or unaware of the importance of time, but because they are conscientious enough to actually spend time talking to you about your pet. They make it a point to answer all your questions without seeming impatient, and do not want you to leave their office until they are sure that you understand your pet’s condition and treatment, and they have answered all your questions.

“Dr. Cranky” aka “Why Did I Become a Vet?” is a person that is having more than just a bad day. They are probably trying to figure out why they spent 7 years in school to care for animals. If they have not questioned this huge life decision then perhaps they should. I have met this type of vet. It was not a pleasant experience for me or my pets, and it clearly was not what the doctor wanted to be doing either. This type has zero patience for a terrified cat or nervous pooch. They run their office in an efficient manner, usually with military precision. They give you and your pet the allotted time scheduled for the appointment and if you still have concerns or questions, well too damn bad, other clients are waiting. When faced with a cat that does not want to come out of a carrier, they turn it upside down and then proceed to reach and tug at the terrified animal until they successfully get it out. That is if you consider it successful when the animal is curled up in the shape of a capitol C with its ears pinned down, its tail puffed up and it’s making noises normally only heard during a Freddy Krueger movie. I shudder to think of the repercussions of an animal peeing on this vet’s shoe. The nervous dog stays nervous the entire time the vet is in the room. Its tail stays between its legs, its head is bowed down and it shakes until your heart breaks watching. The vet appears impatient and put out during the entire visit until the very end. The end of such an appointment can be signaled when the time-share type sales pitch begins as they try to peddle whatever brand of dog food or supplements they are selling. At this point they may actually smile.

If you encounter this type of vet, grab your pet and run, do not walk, out of their office. Tell everyone you know with pets about your experience so that no other pet or owner is subjected to Dr. Cranky.