Tag Archives: dog

Lost in the Snow

We got about two and a half feet of snow this weekend.  Snow for a little dog owner is no fun because the dogs have a hard time finding a spot to take care of their business.  After the first day in the snow, I dug a place under the bush out front and a patch of grass in the lawn for Tildy to do what she needed to do.  Apparently, neither spot was good enough and she decided to hold it for two days.  Craziness and amazing at the same time.

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Yesterday, I had someone clear a path to my car in the back yard.  That was all she needed to feel confident in the snow.  It must be scary when the ground gives way under you and you sink so deep that you have to hold your head up to be able to see.  Now that she had a path and could see dirt and grass, we no longer had a problem.

This morning, when we went outside, it was 12 degrees.  I was deterred, but Tildy was determined.  She pulled me to the end of the back yard and then started barking frantically.  There was a black puppy in a purple knitted sweater.  She started barking like crazy and then hid behind a tree.  I picked up Tildy because she has the tendency to go after other dogs that we encounter.  I think she was a street fighter in a previous life.  As I scooped her up, a light brown pit bull mix came up from behind me.  Tildy started talking trash and the dog started walking towards us.  When I told him to stop, he listened, so the fear in me was calmed.  He then walked back to the end of my yard, peed on my trashcan, and took a dump in front of it.  Tildy growled and I stood there in disbelief.  After he was done, he looked at me as if to say, “Now this is mine.  Whatchu got to say ’bout it?!”, then he nudged the puppy and they both walked off.

Just when I thought they were gone, they both doubled back and decided to check out my yard.  They walked all the way to the front yard and then looked up and down the street, probably trying to find their way home.

Tildy and I walked all the way to the river and enjoyed the solitude of the frozen park.

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On our way back, we encountered a father and daughter, both yelling , “Peanut!”.

“Which one is Peanut?”

“He’s a brown lab.”

“Yeah, right”, I thought.  “That’s a pit bull if I ever saw one.”  I told the father about my experience with the two dogs.  He told me that they had found the puppy, but were still searching for Peanut.  I asked where they lived and told them I would keep a look out for their dog, and I walked back to my house.  For some reason, I decide to look under my back porch, but I didn’t see Peanut.  Since it was so cold, I figured I’d go in the house and just watch for him from my front window.  Just as I walked up the steps to the door, Peanut popped out from under the porch.  I don’t know how I missed him when I looked under there.

Now that I knew his name, he responded to me in a non-threatening way.  I was able to get him to follow me a block and a half down the street.  It was obvious that Peanut knew that his house had a fence around it because there were two houses along the way that had fences and he stopped to sniff around them.  The last one he sniffed must have smelled familiar to him, because he laid down in front of the fence.  Coincidently (or maybe not) his house was directly across the street from that house.

I was able to get him up and delivered him to his home.  His owner was so happy that he cried.  He was on the phone when he answered the phone and hollered, “He’s home!”  A truck pulled up with two crying women inside.  They both thanked me profusely.

I had carried 12 pound Tildy on this entire journey and now she was started to feel heavy and I was sweating, but was very happy.

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Matilda’s Take on the 3 a.m. Chicken

My Person took me to The Place That Always Gives Me A Shot last week. I hate that place. Every single time I go there, they “ooo” and “ahhh” over me, and then they take me to the back and stick a needle in my hind parts. I absolutely hate that place and I don’t understand for the life of me why My Person insists on taking me there, but I have to admit, I usually feel better afterwards.

This trip was a little different. They took me to the back and put a mask on my face. The next thing I knew, I was fighting hard to wake up from a really long nap. I don’t know what those people did to me while I was sleeping, but I woke up feeling like someone had slipped me a mickey. I could barely keep my eyes open and I felt like my head weighed 20 pounds. I kept going in and out of sleep really fast, just like when My Person is watching that tv show with the two funny cops and the little boy that she watches over and over and over again. I can never stay awake for those shows and I don’t know why she keeps watching them. They show the same shows all the time. I’ve been with My Person for 56 years now and I know I must have seen the one where the little boy kills the bird about a thousand times. But I digress.

Anyway, My Person came to pick me up and take me home. I started whining when she grabbed me and I didn’t stop until we got home. When we got there, I immediately ran to my food bowl, but it wasn’t there. Didn’t she know that I would be hungry? I hadn’t eaten anything for a really long time. She made me wait while she opened a can of the mushy food and heaped a couple of spoonfuls into my bowl. I was so hungry that I basically inhaled that serving and she gave me some more. I was soooo hungry. My Person had chicken and green beans for dinner. I was successful in guilting her into giving me a couple of green beans. She always shares after I give her the staring hungry eyes treatment. She’s so easy. We relaxed on the couch while she watched her junkman show and the two funny cops and little boy show and then we went up the steps to go to bed. It was about that time that my mouth started to hurt. It hurt really bad.

I started whining again, but this time I could tell that it really worried My Person. She looked sad and scared, so I cuddled up next to her, but I couldn’t stop whining. I tried to tone it down, but the pain would kick in and I’d get loud again. I finally fell asleep.

The next day, My Person left for the Work like she always does. I hate the Work. She always seems to be going there and she always leaves me behind. Of all the days, couldn’t she stay home today? I really needed her, but she went to the Work anyway, so I had to take care of myself. First I napped a bit. Not sure how long I was out because I still felt woozy from the day before. At some point the gurgling in my stomach woke me up. This was a really loud gurgling and I knew something bad was going to happen. I jumped down from the bed because I know how mad My Person gets when I get sick on the bed. I tried to find a good spot in the pile of dirty sheets she left outside of the bedroom that she forgot to put in the washer for the third day in a row, but the hard floor made it a bit difficult. Then I noticed that she left the door open to the other room that has a bed in it. I jumped up on that bed and as soon as I did, I got sick. I threw up right in the spot that she lays down in when she naps in that bed.

When she came home, it took her a long time to figure out what happened that day. Instead of getting upset about it, she petted me on the back and kissed me on the head. People are strange.

That evening, I didn’t eat dinner after our walk. I didn’t even beg her for any of her dinner. Plus, all that she offered me was the same stuff that I had thrown up earlier in the day. I just wasn’t hungry at all. After she watched her two funny cops show, we went to bed.

The next day was Saturday; I know that because she didn’t have to go to the Work. She woke me up that morning, which is odd because I’m usually awake long before she is. She made me go for a walk that morning. I could’ve stayed in bed. I really just wasn’t interested in doing much of anything. When we came back home, so offered me some more of the stuff I had thrown up a day or so ago. I refused. I was hoping she would realize how stupid she was being, but it didn’t seem to sink in. I mean, if you had thrown up your favorite food, would you want to eat more of it right away? No? I didn’t think so. I don’t know why she thought I would. Maybe she just wasn’t thinking.  Then she offered me bacon.  I wasn’t interested.  Bacon was too crunchy and my mouth hurt.

Our evening walk was pretty short because I didn’t have much energy and I really didn’t have any business to take care of. When we came back to the house, she offered me the same crap AGAIN. Poor Person. She’s not always the brightest, but I love her just the same.

In the middle of the night, the hunger pains kicked in and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I got up to sniff around at the snacks that she left on the bed for me, but when I did, I fell over. She immediately woke up and asked me what was wrong, like I could respond to her. I could barely hold my head up and she was asking me questions.

She picked me up and ran down the steps. She opened the cold food box and pulled out that same jar of food and those same smashed sweet potatoes. Had I not already proven to her that I could not and would not eat that mess?! I sniffed at it and turned my head, and fell over on my side. I was so weak. I hadn’t eaten anything in two days and I had no way of telling her that my stomach wouldn’t let me touch the food she was offering me. I felt the room start spinning and water started falling out of My Person’s face. She kept telling me that she loved me and asking me not to die. Die?! Was I dying?! Was that why I couldn’t stand up? Was that why the room was spinning? Good grief, My Person, please offer me something else to eat! She sat there rocking me like a Little Person and telling me that if I was ready to go, she would be ok. Ready to go? Ready to go where? I just need something to eat, lady! You must have something else to offer me. She picked me up, opened the cold food box to put the food away. Please give me something to eat! Just as she was closing the door, she stopped and pulled out a long container. She sat back down on the floor and put me down. I fell over again. I just didn’t have the strength to stand up. She picked me up, placed me in her lap, and offered me something to eat. I sniffed at it. Chicken! I didn’t have the energy to show her how excited I was, but I ate that chicken and looked at her, asking her for more. She kept giving me chicken and I was so happy. After a few pieces, my mouth started to hurt again, so I didn’t eat any more. We went back up the steps and went to bed.

The next day, she cooked me some chicken. It was much better than the stuff she had given me the night before. I still had the wobbles, but I figured that the wobbles got me chicken, so it was all good.

That evening, I was feeling much better and was quite excited about going outside. We hadn’t gotten very far when I fell over again. This time, I ended up right on my hind parts with my front legs up in the air. So embarrassing. She picked me back up, took me inside, and gave me some more chicken. Then we went outside and had a good walk. I got tired on the way home, so she carried me.

At this point, I think I have trained her to give me chicken whenever she thinks I’m feeling bad. She’s so easy.

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A Very Interesting Day

I'm patiently waiting here for you to take me outside.

First, let me give you the postscript to yesterday’s post.

Last night, Matilda and I went out for our normal evening walk around 5:30.  Then I took her for a pre-bedtime outing at 8:30.  I was asleep by 9:30. (Yeah, I know.  That’s pretty early, especially for a Friday night, but I was exhausted.)  She woke me up four times and was quite forceful with her demand to go outside.  Each time I responded by pulling the deepest baritone from my gut that I could muster and gave her a resounding and firm, “No!”.  Then I rolled away from her and tried to go back to sleep.

Around 4:30, she woke me up again.  This time she started walking in circles and wouldn’t take no for an answer.  I decided that she must be serious this time, so I took her outside.  I was right.  She quickly handled her business and ran back in the house.  I wasn’t thrilled to be outside at 4:40 in the morning, but I was happy that she was quick about it.

We’ll see what tonight brings.

This morning’s walk was very interesting.  Tildy tried getting me out of the bed around 6:30, but I refused to move until about 8:30.  While we were strolling, we encountered a woman that we see every once in a while in the morning.  She’s usually accompanied by a man, but this morning, she was alone.  She walks as if she experienced a stroke sometime in her recent past, but over the last year, her gait has gotten better.  As she walked towards us, she announced that she was waiting for a bus.  She had her royal blue bus pass clipped to her shirt in much the same way that a parent might pin a note to a child’s shirt so that the teacher wouldn’t miss it.  Her wet, curly hair, that looks like it once was blond, is now a golden hued gray.  She again announced she was waiting for the bus and it was in that moment I wished I had walked in a different direction.  In the next three minutes, I learned that she has lived in the neighborhood for a couple of years, she is from St. Louis, she came here to be with a guy she met online and had talked to every day for two months before getting on a train to move to here.

The trip took two days.  The train pulled in at 7:40 p.m. that day and I took a cab here.  That trip took 4 hours and it only should’ve taken two.  It was just stupid.  I didn’t know where I was going.  I had never been here before.  I had to pay the cab driver $147.  The train pulled in at exactly 7:40 p.m. and I got here at 11:40 p.m.  It was just stupid.  We’ve been together for two years and eight months.  I don’t know.  Do you count the two months on the phone?  Yeah.  two years and eight months.  I’ve been catching this bus to go to the gym every day that I’ve been here and that’s been two years and six months.  Do your parents live here?  Where are you from?  My parents are divorced and that was stupid.  They divorced in ’78 and dad died in ’82.  I don’t know why they divorced.  It was just stupid.  He died four years later.  It was just stupid.  And then mom died two days after dad’s birthday two years later.  It was just stupid.  Where is the bus?  How long have you lived in this neighborhood?

At that point, Matilda decided that she’d had enough and started pulling me away.  I was never more thankful for her bossy little butt.  She kept talking to me as Tildy and I walked away.  Thankfully, the bus came so I didn’t get pulled into another one-sided conversation.

 

Welcome!

We have a new home here on WordPress and couldn’t be happier about it.

If you are new to The Tildy Spot, you probably are wondering about the origin of the name.  I created the blog to tell stories about my dog, Matilda, and my life with her.  I call her TIldy for short.  The place that you visit to hear all about her is The TIldy Spot, kind of like “that jazz spot around the corner”.

Matilda is a spoiled furball that believes that my world revolves around her and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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My Partner

Matilda and I are a lot a like.

She likes to sleep in and so do I.

She does not tolerate the sun and heat very well.  Neither do I.

We both have chronic diseases.  She has Addison’s Disease.  I have lupus.

She loves sweet potato pie.  So do I.

She loves to lounge on the couch and watch television or stare out of the window.  So do I.

She’s my partner and I love her dearly.  I’m glad we found each other.

Devil Dog

Don’t let this sweet face fool you.  Matilda has an anger management issue.

I’ve always known that she has separation anxiety.  To try to make her look forward to me leaving the house, I started giving her a special treat before I leave.  She now gets excited when it’s time for me to go, so I thought the snack really did the trick.

I think the snacks were just a temporary fix because a few weeks ago, I came home to this.

She wanted me to think she was ashamed, but she really wasn’t.

After this, I started putting the bedroom trashcan on top of my dresser when I leave for work.  Problem solved, I thought.  (Yeah, right.)

Today, while I was at work, I though about Tildy and envisioned her like this.

The reality was probably more like this.  (Cue the “Psycho” music.)

When I got home, I found two pair of my underwear in the middle of the bedroom floor.  Matilda had rummaged through the load of laundry that I had left in the hall floor and forgot to put in the washer before I left the house.  Apparently, my departure turned Tildy into a demon dog.  She ripped one pair of underwear to shreads.  The other pair was ripped in a few places.  I can only assume that she ate the crotch from both pair because there were no random scraps of cotton anywhere to be found.  I would share the pictures, but I feel funny about having pictures of my underwear floating around the internet.

I have no idea how to deal with this problem, but I won’t ever leave laundry in the floor again. That’s for sure.

New Shoes

I bought these shoes in 2010 for the Lupus Walk in Washington, D.C..  Since then, I’ve used them almost solely to walk Matilda.  We walk twice a day for a total of about two miles.  By my estimation, these shoes have almost 3,000 miles on them.  I love these shoes even though the sole is separating from the toe and flopping on the back of one of the heels.  The only reason I have decided to retire them is that I stepped in a pile of poop and I can’t seem to get rid of the smell.  I feel bad about throwing them away, especially when I see a homeless person walk down the street.

                           

These are my new shoes.  I bought them for this year’s lupus walk.  They aren’t as comfortable as my old shoes, but I’m hoping they will be after a few more miles.