Saturday, July 9, 2016

Better Not Count On Hick When You're Going Down for the 3rd Time

I hear you all clamoring for more news on Puppy Jack! Simmer down, now. Would Val withhold information from you? NO! She would not. So here's an update.

For a while I was worried about Puppy Jack putting on weight. You know, becoming Oscar Mayer Wienermobile fat instead of maintaining the slim physique of a Nathan's or Pink's style hot dog. At his last vet visit, Puppy Jack was up to 8.6 pounds. Just right. His dachshund mother was only 10 pounds full grown, and our Jacky, with his heeler paternal half, is now just over three months old.

It appears that my fear was unfounded. Hick does not feed Puppy Jack! Sure, he's supposed to. And I thought he WAS, every morning before work, giving Jack his half cup of dry puppy food when he fed Juno her big dog food. Nope! Turns out Jack was too slow in running over to the porch, and Juno ate his meager puppy portion too many times while Hick had to hit the road. So he stopped dishing out puppy food. No wonder Jack would run stand in his food pan and bark.

We've got that straightened out now. I feed Jack when I get up. And give him his other half-cup portion in the evening. Usually. The thing is, Hick comes home and takes off on the Gator, too big a temptation for a dog. Even a chow hound.

Friday evening, I called and called for Puppy Jack. And my sweet, sweet Juno. I give her a little leftover as a treat while I feed Jack his supper. But neither dog came running. They usually do, from over in the direction of the goat pen, or the BARn. Not Friday night. An hour or so later, Hick came in the front door.

"Are the dogs with you?"

"Yeah. They're out on the porch."

"Good. I'm trying to feed Jack." I grabbed a couple of leftover breadsticks for Juno, and started out the laundry room door. Both dogs rushed me. I scooped out Jack's half cup, and tossed the breadsticks into Juno's pan. I stood over Jack's pan to keep my sweet, sweet Juno from bullying him away standing politely over him to see if he was finished yet, or possibly choking, lest she need to perform the Heimlich on him. And this is what I noticed:


JACK WAS DRIPPING WET!

He looked like that dinosaur in Journey to the Center of the Earth (the Brendan Fraser/Josh Hutcherson version) had dripped a huge drop of spit on him. This was our first sunny dry day all week. I knew it wasn't from rain or wet weeds. I stood guard until he finished his repast, and then went to find Hick.

"Why is my puppy all wet?"

"He went swimming."

"In the creek?" That's a common destination for Hick and his Gator, down by the creekside cabin.

"Yeah. I went up to the other property--"

"The OTHER PROPERTY? How did Jack get there?" Let the record show that the other property is at least a half mile down our gravel road and up a steep other gravel road.

"He followed me and Juno."

"He's TOO LITTLE! You didn't even give him a ride?" Let the record further show that Jack has stubby dachshund puppy legs, while Juno has full-grown, lengthy, lab/border collie legs made for romping.

"Nah. I stopped to talk to a buddy on the corner where the fire blew up his propane tanks, and Jack caught up. Then I went up to the other property, and down to the creek."

"Did he swim? Or just wade?"

"Juno was walking around in it, and he tried to get to her, but it was too deep for him, and then he started washing away, and he had to swim to get back over to the bank."

"WHAT? Did you watch out for him? Would you have gone in to get him if he washed away?"

"Yes, Val. If he went down the creek, I would have tried to get him."

That makes me feel almost as sick as the time I discovered that Hick had been riding Baby Pony around in a milk crate affixed to the handlebars of a 4-wheeler.

12 comments:

  1. Didn't you check Hick's references before you hired him as a dog sitter?

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    1. No! I was as careless as a sick man on an airplane who pawned off his dog Farfel on Jerry to take care of while he was in the hospital. No references.

      Besides, Hick might have given me a fake phone number for Art Vandelay.

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  2. Puppy Jack is learning the ropes of living with Val and Company.

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    1. Puppy Jack seems to be adapting better than Val.

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  3. Semi-wiener dags are tough, but they are not built for swimming. Hick wouldn't let puppy Jack go down more than twice.

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    1. That's true. They're very dense and not floaty.

      Today in the local paper I saw a picture of a pound puppy who was half dachshund and half chihuahua. He was chocolate brown, shaped like a dachshund, with tan eyebrows and facial markings. But the EARS were all chihuahua! That little thing made Jack look like a model.

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  4. It's a dog's life out on the farm. Hick's going to make a big guy out of your little baby yet.

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    1. Hick had the gall to be perturbed this afternoon when Jack heard T-Hoe coming up the driveway, and gave up watching Hick swim in Poolio to run around the porch and greet me. As if that was any choice at all.

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  5. Sounds like Hick is of the "raise 'em rough and they'll grow up tough" school of dog training. But you might think of equipping Puppy Jack with a life preserver or a "floaty ring".

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    1. OH! OH! Grab somebody's inhaler! Get the oxygen! Puppy Jack in a LIFE PRESERVER? That image is so SWEET that I might also need a shot of insulin!

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  6. Jack is gonna have to learn how to run with the big dogs...

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    1. Jack is gonna have to learn how to run AWAY FROM the big dogs! The killer poodle was in the front yard this morning.

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