I CAN SWIM! And while I’m not enjoying it thoroughly I no longer freeze when I’m in the pool! Mother was so proud of me when on my own accord, I got the courage to walk into the deeper part of the pool and started to paddle across. She was amused when I started offering her the swimming behaviour over and over! And even more amused when Kayla came along and I’d swim around the pool just to try and catch hold of the elusive pretty one! We’re going again to Club4Paws this Saturday at 9am! If you’re free (and up at that time of the day on a weekend), join us!

I was thiiiiiis close to hating swimming all over again last Saturday. All because of a boisterous young pup and his parents. When I’m learning how to swim, please can you NOT jump on my head, thank you very much! I don’t need help in drowning. Don’t come and splash water and paw my face when I’m chilling on the steps of the pool either. Not appreciated! As it is, I don’t really like dogs and I most certainly don’t like dogs in my face when I’m in a situation I don’t quite enjoy and have trouble running away from! Still, you are just a little pup, and you don’t know any better. Your parents however, inexcusable! They should have been more considerate and tried to teach you some manners and should have made some attempt to control you from ruining others’ swimming experience!

Mother, as she was being jumped on by the labrador pup and as she swatted him off me, being her usual self,  turned to the pup’s mum and said “Can you please stop your dog from jumping on mine?” To which pup’s mum replied “This is a public pool ok!” What exactly is the relevance of that? Did we say “please leave the pool?” No. We asked that you control your damn dog woman. “How to control! It’s a dog! How am I supposed to control it?” Well firstly, you could put a collar on your dog. Why can Mother control me and you can’t control your own pup? Mother and I put up with the pup’s nonsense since the week before last when they were also there. Mother made such amazing progress with me but when the pup came and jumped on me in the pool, I refused to swim across by myself again. She wanted to strangle someone. I was amazed she didn’t yell or call the woman stupid and ignorant. Must be because she didn’t want Kayla’s mum to think her nuts. She’s got too much balls this one.

The father of the pup clearly knew his pup was being a nuisance. He tried to stop the dog (badly) but at least he did. Mother (and I) don’t mind if the pup jumps on mum coz she’s prepared to get wet but NOT ON ME PLEASE. I’m freaked out enough as it is. I really don’t need any more help in that department. It was only when the pup jumped on another pup having its first swim, dunking the poor tot’s head under the water (with an “OEI!” yelled out by the new swimming baby’s folks) that the lab’s parents headed off. All the better. Everyone had a pleasant swimming experience after that. And I could resume chasing Kayla in the pool.

Can’t wait to swim again next week! More of that disgustingly smelly and super yummy baked chicken gizzard!!

We went to see Dr Lye today, a highly respected and experienced vet, about my draggy hind legs. Mother wet my back when she cried into my fur.

Me: “Mother, what did the vet say?”

Mother: “He said you were born broken.”

Me: “Broken? How?”

Mother: “You have a congenital spinal nerve problem boy. It has no cure, but Dr Lye has suggested some things like swimming 3 times a day and giving you vitamin B and ginkgo biloba supplements, which could improve the dragging legs.”

Me: “So I can be fixed right? Why are you so sad then?”

Mother: “Because my dear, mummy googled your problem and read up about “degenerative myelopathy”. If swimming and supplements don’t help, and tofu, green tea, and the other things suggested by the various websites can’t improve your problem, your legs will become weak and you may even end up with your hind legs paralysed. The websites say DM’s onset is usually when the dog is in their middle ages, 5 or 6 years of age. The earliest I read was 3. You are only 1, my baby. What does that say?”

Me: “Oh. Hmm. Well, I hate swimming but I guess I’ll give it a go. And I’ll wear that awful life jacket you got me. Promise! We can go to Club4Paws tomorrow.”

Mother: “I can’t take you to the pool 3 times a week because I have to work and all the doggy pools will be closed by the time I’m done. So, I’m going to bring the pool to you. I will get an above ground pool for you so that you can swim at least a bit every day. We’re going to fight this ok Romeo? You are going to live forever.”

Me: “Yes Mother. I’m going to live forever.”

I can’t tell you how extremely glad Mother didn’t take nudey bath shots of me! But she did take some of me soaking wet (girls, think of it as me in a towel) for some “experiment”.

“You know, Romeo. By the time you’re 16, I would have spent over 32 days blow drying your ass if I bathed you twice a week 32 days!! That’s one whole month! And then some!”

Thinking this is a great big waste of her time (as if fingernail painting – sitting around completely handicapped, not being able to use your hands for two hours – is any better) Mother went out and bought a mammoth industrial strength fur blower for me! It’s from a brand called Aeolus and it cost her an arm and a leg (or so she’s been whining). 

This thing looks like and sounds like a vacuum cleaner! (Kayla, tell your mum my Mother takes back what she said about it being fairly quiet! She must be gone abit deaf after hearing the price.)

I don’t like it. It’s like a monster with a tentacle out to get me. But still, see Exhibit A – Mother’s Test Subject.

 Me, the wet rag. Having had too go through the painful ordeal of being wet, lathered and rinsed. And then, conditioned and rinsed. Ugh.

The dryer freaks me out! I ran around and tried to defen.. I mean, attack the snake monster! I the macho one, strike first! Mother tried to keep me quiet with treats and it worked for awhile.

So, 10 minutes later, I looked like this.

Look at my squinty eye. PLEASE LET IT BE KNOWN THAT I AM NOT RACIST OR DOING SOME CHINESE EYES THING! I am not like some immature young actresses (who act in hit high school type series for a well known cartoon empire *cough*)/actors who are insensitive to the different races. Tsk. I’ve always known dogs have more brains.

Anyway, this is a close up of my fur after 10 mins. Mother was quite pleased. She was very impressed when she felt water droplets flying off my fur. The cold setting wicks moisture off the fur apparently, while the heat setting dries the fur. Mother decided to wick then dry.

Usually with Mother’s handheld Panasonic ionic hairdryer, the inside of my fur will still be wet after 10 mins (heck, 20 mins) of drying. But after 10 mins with the new blower, the insides are already 2/3rds dry. Mother’s joyful “woohoo!” could be heard echoing through the quiet neighbourhood at midnight.

It took only 35 minutes compared to the 2 hours normally, to get me dry with her new toy. The fur behind my ears were dry, even my armpits (Mother has this weird obsession with drying my armpits – something about making sure they don’t tangle and get matted). With the reduction is ass-drying time, Mother calculated that she’ll only have spent 9 days drying me off. She’s chuffed. But you know, her maths sucks. I’m not sure you should trust her calculations. 

Now, I look like THIS. *shoulders back, broad grin, beaming* “Come on Romeo, work it, work the camera boy.”

Motheeeerrr…. I don’t want to study anymore!! I’m tired! Look how hard I concentrate!

 Really. It is against the law to make a dog work this hard. 

*pouts*