“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 635 (Saturday)

Moose, December 11, 2009

One can learn a lot in a dozen dog years. Or more correctly, in a dozen years with dogs.

On this date in 2009, it was Moose’s second day in my home. His path to my door was me being immediately smitten by his photo on petfinder-dot-com, seeing him at the shelter, and completing paperwork. Then he went to the vet for neutering and then to my house.

Part of that second day, he laid on the floor next to his new blue, fleece bed. Maybe he wasn't familiar with beds. Maybe he objected to the plaid. He eventually ate holes in the bed, along with other cloth items including all his fabric toys and one of my shirts.

The specific challenge of Day Two with Moose, as noted in a Facebook post, included learning about doggy potty habits. There was pee in the house and outside. There was poop in the house mere minutes after he had been outside. The pee in the house situation lasted forever. I never learned Moose's pre-shelter story, but if I had to guess, peeing in the house may have been a big factor that led to him being in the shelter.

There was a lot I didn’t know about pets in general and dogs in particular, but I was in love with my Moosie despite the messes. My heart ached when I left him to go to work, but luckily, my lunch break was a full hour and work was close enough that I could go home to see him nearly every work day.

Moose soon exhibited his disdain for the crate. He figured out how to escape using techniques that included popping the latches to release the wall and chewing the metal door latch off. He seemed to have anxiety when left alone. After a while, he acted mopey and it seemed a companion might help. When I saw him in the shelter he was playing with another little dog and it killed me thinking his happiest and most playful days might have been while incarcerated in the shelter. 

On this date in 2011, slightly more experienced in life with a canine, Moose and I met for the first time Winston, our potential future house- and life-mate. The doggie boys met for a few minutes that first time and the humans planned a doggy sleepover for the following weekend to test things out for a longer duration. The success of the sleepover would determine the next step. The meetups were a success, and at the start of 2012, Winston came to stay with us permanently and the doggy love grew even more. 

Winston, Moose and I lived mostly happily ever after. Over the years, we adapted to each other. We got each other through four residences, three relocations, and the lengthy job search before I landed the current position that allowed us all to continue to eat and fund the vet bills. New levels of patience previously unknown to me were acquired. I learned that it can be fun to have a critter follow me absolutely everywhere including to the bathroom and the trick was to tread carefully. Being crowded in a bed by two adorable pups is not that bad. And having another living creature (or two) to come home to feels really good.

Human furniture for dogs.

The two dogs rarely cuddled with each other in a puppy pile like I imagined when first thinking of a buddy for Moose, but they had no problem cuddling/crowding me. It was often like being furniture for dogs, and there were no objections. It's nice to feel needed.

Generally, Moose and Winston gave each other plenty of space. It wasn't all avoidance, though. They would exchange a glance from across the room and spring to action. Then, the  co-conspirator Canine Overlords would trick me off the couch and take my spot, or shepherd me to the kitchen where the treats are kept. 

Moose and Winston came to rely on each other’s company. If one was missing from the other's line of sight, a search ensued. Sometimes, the main reason for the search seemed to be to boot the other dog from my lap, the couch, or a bed, and steal the space for himself. 

Now, with just Winston and me, there is little jockeying for key positions. Winnie will sometimes trick me off the couch and take my spot, probably to keep his skills sharp. Without Moose around, Winston is no longer interested in being in or even near my lap. He creeps in close when he wants his head rubbed and then retreats. 

Today, Winston had a vet visit. I was nervous because his thirst and urine production have increased recently and he sleeps even more than he used to. He no longer seems to like his expensive, prescription glucose control food and refuses to eat it some mornings. The key with his diabetes management is regularity, and he needs to have eaten so I can give him his insulin. As a result, the recent boycotts have been a little bit stressful. For me, anyway. It doesn’t seem that Winston is affected.

Winston, December 2021.

The vet checked Winston today for a urinary infection (clear!). In a couple weeks, he’s scheduled to receive a monitor that records around the clock data on his glucose so his insulin can be adjusted in an educated and analytical manner. 

In the meantime, Winston and I will keep plugging along. We continue to reframe daily life, which has been different with the absence of both Moose and Winston's vision. The roles are defined, for now anyway. Winnie eats, drinks, walks into walls and furniture, goes outside to potty, and sleeps. I play the helicopter pet parent hovering over the proceedings, noting the volume, velocity, and color of urine. We share the couch each night like an old couple, with Winston napping at one end and me at the other end with with a show on the TV and the laptop and phone nearby. 

For now, it’s a small life. In this year of loss and upheaval, it seems that what is needed is laying low for a while to recharge, and that's okay.