Tasha and Others

Archive for the ‘Tasha’ Category

A few weeks ago, I fell down a flight of stairs in my house. I didn’t fall because Tasha, my four-year-old golden retriever, was in the way. I slipped and was lucky to have her at the bottom of the stairs, licking me and encouraging me to stand up. Once a frenzied puppy that I had rescued at eight months, Tasha had settled down to become an amazing and patient friend. This time, it was me who needed to be rescued.

As I sat shaking on the floor, Tasha nuzzled me and observed me with a quizzical expression. I got up slowly, grabbing onto her back, and reassured her that I was okay. Something told her that I wasn’t, because she wouldn’t leave my side, even as I shooed her away.

As it turned out, she was right—I wasn’t okay. Finally, I went to the emergency room of a nearby hospital, and Tasha went to stay at a friend’s house. After the diagnosis, I was transferred to a prominent Seattle hospital and had surgery for a fractured sacrum. When I woke up, I lay on my side and thought of Tasha. I wondered how she was doing, if she missed me, and if she instinctively knew that I would be back to take care of her and resume our relationship.

Before I left the hospital, I was told that I couldn’t walk for six weeks, until the screws in my pelvis were set. Six weeks! I immediately thought, “I can’t do that!” Just the thought of it was too much to bear. My next thoughts were, “How am I going to get my dog back? When can I go home with her? Who will walk and feed Tasha, and who will take care of her? “

I spent the next two weeks at a rehabilitation center. My friend brought Tasha there to visit me a number of times. When Tasha saw me, she immediately jumped up on the bed, as she does at home, and again, licked and nuzzled me. I desperately wanted her back.

I am now at home in a wheelchair and slowly getting better. Tasha often lies on her corner of the bed where she seems content to be, and we are together again. With her by my side, I can’t think of a better way to recover.

Tasha has two new friends, Besa and Bruno. Besa is an eight-month old part Border Collie, part something else. She’s perfect for Tasha’s energy. The two of them play tug together from the same stuffed toy, go romping in the woods and get all muddy together, and are in each other’s mouths. They bark at the same things and have become good buddies.

Bruno is a very small Rat Terrier. He’s almost so ugly that he’s cute. He’s only nine pounds, so he gets to go everywhere that a cat would go–on the bed, under the bed, on the couch, on an airplane. He’s a lucky dog.

At last Tasha has met her match with Besa. I’m happy for all of them!

Tasha drools. When she gets excited, that’s the first thing I see. It happens mostly at the dog park, and I haven’t seen any other dogs that salivate as much as she does. I constantly need to wipe the drool off of her mouth, her neck, and her chest. I wipe the drool onto her coat, knowing that it will brush out eventually. Unfortunately, I don’t have a good picture of Tasha drooling yet.

I’ve gotten used to Tasha drooling, but when she does, both friends and strangers look at me like I have a rabid dog. It’s not something you get used to or pretend not to see. It’s become part of her character–her charm!

Today a friend of mine suggested a solution to Tasha’s lack of attention when I call her to come. Blow a whistle, and when she comes, give her a piece of a hot dog. Simple. So I went out today and bought hot dogs. I’d never bought them before. I was prettty sure Tasha would eat any kind, so I went for the cheapest things that looked like what I know of hot dogs.

I came home, and with a piece of hot dog in hand, made Tasha sit. I then made her stay, went into the next room, and called her to come. She did all three things expertly, so I gave her the hot dog. Wow! She went nuts. For a dog that never gets people food, she was more than excited. I tried it again. Made her sit, stay, and then called her from a distance. Again, she behaved with perfection.

Now all I need is the whistle so when she’s outside and I call her she’ll relate the loud noise with the treat. Hopefully, this will solve the problem of the disappearing dog when Tasha goes with me outside. The Pavlovian approach wins!

I’ve just read over this blog so far, and it has somewhat of a consistent theme, that is, Tasha’s dependence on me and the ensuing separation anxiety. And her quirky problems–there’s that too. Am I being hard on her, or is she just so spoiled that it’s good for me to recognize and write about how these issues affect her place in my life?

Yes, the site is about Tasha, and most of the entries are about her, but the bulk of information out there is uncomfortable when I read it in full. I’ve GOT to start treating her with some distance because she’s so dependent on me. Or, is that cruel and too dramatic of a change? Even when she’s with other dogs, she still prefers me to them. Not good.

Tasha is four-years old now and is almost entirely set in her ways, including seeing me as a somewhat inconsistent pack leader. I’m not sure what to do exactly, but this blog points out the need for some dog behavior training!

The toy “Kong” is supposed to be indestructable. Not true! Tasha chewed hers into bits.

There was peanut butter in it, for one thing. I had been worried that Tasha was suffering from separation anxiety. She gets so upset when I go anywhere without her. So, following some advice, I gave Tasha the Kong, thinking that she would associate the sturdy toy with some fun while I was gone. But Tasha ate the Kong along with the peanut butter in the middle.

I wish I had taken a picture of the pieces of red rubber that were scattered all about. They were in the middle of a pile of dirt from a mud-covered bone that Tasha had dragged in. The stair landing was a doggie mess! I don’t know if there’s any toy that Tasha couldn’t get her teeth into.

I heard that you’re not supposed to leave a dog with anything that they can chew into little bits. Well, guess I messed up on that one. Next, the Galileo bone…