Tales of a Dogsitter - The Nose Knows

Quirky Misty is up to her tricks again with the dogsitters that fill-in at TBTB Dog Camp. She knows I have her figured out so she doesn’t get away with much anymore. I have learned what needs to be Misty-proofed around here, including my cabernet glass. However, old habits die-hard especially when a new alpha steps into the picture . . . let the games begin.

Sarah, my summer roommate adored the dogs, especially Misty who would sneak into her room every chance she got. Misty bonded with Sarah almost immediately when she arrived in Homer. So when I decided to fly back east to visit family, Sarah volunteered to care for all the doggies for the few days I would be gone. She was fully aware of Misty’s propensity to jump and grab whatever was available on the edge of the kitchen counter, and to put her nose in just about anything that she found interesting, especially good wine. Sarah was actually the one that put the childproof latches on the kitchen cabinets to keep Misty and her accomplices out of them. However, Sarah was about to learn just how far this girl would go to when guided by her stimulated Nose.

After a few long doggie days Sarah was in town running personal errands and decided to treat herself to some delicious Thai noodles at the Vagabond Café. Not wanting to leave the dogs home alone for long, she got her order to go. When she arrived home she placed her lunch in the center of the kitchen bar (out of jump and grab range) and quickly went upstairs to check the phone messages. She returned in a flash to find her noodles totally consumed by apparently one amazing blonde wiggle butt. To this day Sarah has no idea how Misty could have possibly got on that counter, ate the noodles in a FLASH, and got back off the counter without a sound – it’s a complete mystery to both of us. But the only thing left on the counter that afternoon was an empty noodle box. And, sitting nearby on the floor was a very sated cocker spaniel with a smirk on her face. The good news? Sarah was determined to have noodles that day. She returned to the café and after telling her story to the owner, got a second order on the house. She went straight home and ate them before you-know-who had a chance to even think about scoring again!

Fast-forward another month. . . Sarah is now back in San Francisco so I hired a vet tech to help with the business when I travel. Last week I went to Anchorage for an overnight stay and explained in detail to Alisa the personalities of each dog. She too was aware of Misty’s food fetish – I told her Sarah’s story. So, when I returned home I was surprised to hear yet another tale of the Nose. Seems that nose cannot resist the smell of food, particularly if it’s anywhere close to being accessible - remember she can obviously leap tall buildings in a single bound!

Alisa stopped at McDonald’s to grab an evening meal – McBurger (thank goodness without ketchup or onions) and a large order of fries. When she arrived home the dogs desperately needed to go out for a potty break. She ran upstairs, food in hand (first mistake) and stashed it in her duffle bag throwing a coat over the pile (second mistake), and raced back downstairs to let the dogs out. She was out for only a minute when it dawned on her there was no Misty in the pack. Oh NO!

Back inside and up the stairs only to find???? You guessed it. An empty burger box that was slightly ajar – no trace of food anywhere, a container that once was full of fries, and a cocker spaniel with a “who, me?” look on her face. The food had been consumed in a nana-second. Alisa could not believe it and being a vet tech she also knew she was in for trouble – like diarrhea! What she didn’t expect to see were whole fries coming out the other end. Misty had obviously inhaled the food! After a few bouts of much expected diarrhea the next day, things were pretty much back to normal when I returned that evening. Alisa is still in shock that a dog could eat so much, so fast. That be our blonde quirky girl.

Since Misty is a rescue girl, I have to wonder if her food obsession comes from a history of deprivation, or if it is just her nose that takes over? That’s the thing about rescue animals; we have no clue where they came from or what they’ve been through. There is something about this blonde girl – her tenacity and cleverness endears her to everyone she comes in contact with. One of the volunteers from Camp Cocker Rescue recently visited both BunBun and Misty here in Homer. The girls remembered her and were so glad to see her. After reading my story about Misty getting into the red wine, Kristi brought us a bottle of Merlot to share. Thanks Kristi! Misty actually got to smell it this time, but I drank it before she had the chance!

Misty is so adorable who could get mad at that innocent looking little face? We just deal with all her quirkiness. In fact, it keeps us laughing most of the time. But I have decided to include in my instructions for any dogsitter that covers for me the following disclaimer:

“WARNING: Place All Unattended Food Items in the OVEN - The Nose Knows.”

Life continues to be a HOWL at TBTB Dog Camp. Woof! Woof!

Tales of a Dogsitter - Blood, Sweat & Tears???

Parker, a beautiful 90 lb. golden lab arrived at TBTB for his first visit. Like most labs he immediately bonded with the pack and was ready to participate in all things dog. He appeared a bit chunky but was still willing to run and play with the other dogs. His ball obsession was even more profound than the Tedster, another Lab that will fetch the ball until he drops. Little did I know that Parker, although a bit overweight, would be able to outrun, outfox (dog) and basically outdo all canines with his ball chasing abilities! This includes beating out Forty West, an eight-month-old lab puppy that can fly like the wind. There was no stopping the Parkster, none of the other dogs could hold a candle to this amazing runner. I was in total awe, not believing a dog that size could move so fast!

We made several trips to the playing field across the street. It’s actually called a “gravel” pit but there is no gravel, only sand to run and roll around in. The dogs love it - up one side of the sandy hill and down the other – great exercise for all, including me. On the way to the field we take a trail that is surrounded by low prickly bushes and ground tundra that is difficult to get through. However, the dogs manage to run in and out chasing who knows what. The moose smells are tremendous as there is a cow with twin calves that frequent the trail after hours.

I often throw the chuck-it ball deep into the bushes so the dogs will have to hunt for it. Of course Parker pops out with the ball in his mouth over and over, followed by two trailing Labs wondering how he could possibly be doing that! We were almost to the field so I threw the ball in the bushes one last time for Parker to retrieve. He ran in and quickly brought the ball back to my feet. But what was that on his foot? OMG and, all over his chest, and covering the side of his face? It’s red, wet and sticky. Blood? What the hell???

Parker is jumping like crazy in anticipation of yet another toss of the tennis ball, as the blood pours onto the ground at his feet. Finally I get a grip on his collar to settle him down so I can find the problem. He looks at me like: “Problem, what problem?” I have never seen so much blood and he is oblivious to it as he continues dancing around my feet.

I finally see a small slit in his right ear and the blood is literally pumping out, running like a faucet. OMG, the other dogs are getting it on them and my hands are soaked. I struggle to get him back to the deck to have a better look while he is still waiting for me to throw the ball. Finally back at the house I manage to get the other dogs inside as I barricade Parker on the deck, grab some paper towels and attempt to stop the bleeding. The cut does not look that bad – it’s only a small slit on the bottom of his right ear (less than an inch long) but the blood on the deck reminds me of what a moose slaughter must look like – not that I have ever seen one.

I am running out of towels and the blood is still pouring. Finally I get my neighbor on my cell and ask her to come over and help me. In the meantime I call my vet and find out that a dog cutting his ear is similar to us cutting our forehead. The blood vessels are on the surface and the bleeding is profuse. She told me to try and get the bleeding stopped with pressure, and if necessary I could bring him to the Clinic and they would do it. Pressure, how can I possibly get him to hold still long enough to apply pressure?

My neighbor arrives with gauze and surgical tape. We attempt to fold Parker’s ear over the top of his head and make a turban around his head, securing it with the tape. I’m holding this wiggle butt boy as she wraps and wraps, dropping the tape twice in the process. By this time I am soaked in blood and sweat! So far so good, until . . . . OH NO, the vibration starts at his head, moving down his back and ending in full force with his tail whipping back and forth - the full Labrador retriever shake-off. The turban at this point is completely dismantled and the blood is once again spilling out of the cut onto the deck. There is no way I can stop it and the wood on the deck is getting redder by the minute. All the other doggies are watching through the sliding glass door in hopes of getting out to investigate all the action. No way José - I don’t need another eight dogs covered in blood!

I called the owner to get her okay for a vet visit and although I had not heard back from her, I made the decision to take Parker in. I called back to let the Clinic know to expect us, gathered up a towel to put pressure on the cut while getting Parker into VeVe. Down the hill one-handed as I struggled to shift gears plus keep the towel on his wound while begging him to not shake off in the car. We finally arrive at the Clinic and I get Parker weighed in leaving an incredible bloody trail around us.

Finally, the tech takes him from me and tells me it will be awhile as they are slammed with emergencies right now. As I hand him over the receptionist said to me: “we have a bathroom in the back that you can use to wash up.” Great, my hands are covered in both wet and dry sticky blood. “Thanks,” I said as I closed the bathroom door. It wasn’t until I looked in the mirror that I realized it wasn’t just my hands that were covered, my entire face looked like I had been in battle. I couldn’t resist giggling at the image in the mirror, as I washed up and drove home to clean up the car and the deck.

In the meantime Parker’s owner called and said he was prone to accidents and wasn’t the least bit surprised that he was at the vet’s office. I barely got the massacre cleaned up when the phone rang and the receptionist at the Clinic said he was ready for pickup. Wow! That was fast. No worries, she said it was a small scratch probably from a tree branch, and they just cauterized it (ouch!), stopped the bleeding and wrapped it up tightly to heal. He was good to go. I rushed back down to the office to find a very pathetic looking Boy. Tears starting flowing from my eyes when I saw how pitiful he looked. All I could do was bend down and hug him.

He had a turban securely wrapped around his head and under his chin making it impossible for him to shake it loose. In addition they had a cone around his neck making it hard for him to walk without tripping or running into something. I looked at him; he looked at me pleading for me to do something. I told the vet tech that the cone would never work. She said the vet wanted it to stay on for two days. Okay, I said, but he’s not going to tolerate it. I could see the fight or flight look in his eyes – oh well, we’ll give it a try. Before we made it to my car he had ripped the cone and it was dangling around his neck. I took it the rest of the way off his head and rubbed his back convincing him to relax and not shake.

Parker managed to get through the next two days without getting his ear out of the wrapping. He tried and almost had it loose a couple times but he was able to keep it on. His owner picked him up a very sad looking pup, but at least the bleeding had stopped, no stitches were required and his ear would be back to normal in a few days. Thank Goodness! I was stunned when she gave me a $50 tip that she insisted I had earned.

The morale to this story? If your dog cuts his ear resist the urge to freak out about the amount of blood that squirts out. Chances are it looks a lot worse that it really is. My job is always challenging and exciting – there is definitely never a dull moment in the life of a dogsitter! Especially one that loves her job.

Woof! Woof!

10 Pet Peeves that Dogs Have About Humans

'1'
Blaming your farts on me.....
not funny... not funny at all !!!

'2'
Yelling at me for barking.
I'M A FRIGGIN' DOG

'3'
Taking me for a walk, then
not letting me check stuff out.
Exactly whose walk is this anyway?

'4'
Any trick that involves balancing
food on my nose. Stop it!

'5'
Any haircut that involves bows or ribbons.
Now you know why we chew your stuff
up when you're not home.

'6'
The sleight of hand, fake fetch throw.
You fooled a dog! Whoooo Hoooooooo!

'7'
Taking me to the vet for 'the big snip',
then acting surprised when I freak
out every time we go back!

'8'
Getting upset when I sniff the crotches of your guests.
Sorry, but I haven't quite mastered that handshake thing yet.

'9'
Dog sweaters. Hello ???
Haven't you noticed the fur?

'10'
How you act disgusted when I lick myself.
Look, we both know the truth. You're just jealous.


Now lay off me on some of these things.
We both know who's boss here!
You don't see me picking up your poop do you?

EVERY DOG HAS HIS DAY.
A DOG ALWAYS OFFERS UNCONDITIONAL LOVE.

CATS HAVE TO THINK ABOUT IT!

Tales of a BIRDsitter? - Bye, Bye Birdie

It is truly a beautiful Sunday in Homer town. I had a friend down for the weekend and along with seeing the play at Pier One Theatre “We Won’t Pay, We Won’t Pay,” we had dinner and breakfast out, enjoying a great weekend.

Before she left to drive back to Anchorage we went for a bite to eat and then to the Oyster Farm to buy some fresh Kachemak Bay oysters for her to take back to the city. Judy left for her drive back and I headed up the hill to nine dogs ready for a walk.

As I approached the front door I saw a small bird on the steps. So often birds fly into the large windows in the front of the house, and break their neck in the process. Lying on the step by the sliding glass door was a lovely little Gold Crown Kinglet. He had obviously hit the glass and was struggling to breathe. I picked him up and saw that one of his eyes was really alert but the other one was smashed, I assume that’s the side where he hit the glass.

This happened a few years back and I massaged the bird, and then laid him in a safe area so he could regain his strength. I went back to check on him a few hours later, picked him up and he flew out of my hand, well on his way. That was a good feeling. I hate finding the dead ones on my deck. Once I tried to cremate a tiny creature and had an awful time getting it done. I have since taken to placing them carefully in the tall grass and saying a blessing for the life that was lost by my window glass, and the pain and suffering endured. Although I know the critters out there will eventually eat the corpse, I recognize it is part of the food chain and that’s just the way it is.

This little guy, who I named Little Bird, was struggling very hard to sit up. I found a nice spot, got a soft cloth for him to lie on and left him to recover. The spot was high on a ledge so the dogs would not find him when we went walking. A few hours later I was delighted to see that Little Bird was gone from the ledge, thinking he had flown off. It wasn’t until I looked down that I saw him lying on the ground beneath the ledge still struggling. ☹

Once again I put him back on the ledge – this time in a small box. A little while later I checked and he had once again tried to fly and fallen off the ledge. The six-foot fall was not helping his condition at all. I needed another plan.

I decided to put him on the back deck away from the dogs. Twice he got out of his box there and was desperately trying to be on his way but couldn’t quite do it. He was wearing himself out in the process. I know a lot about dogs but absolutely nothing about birds. I was worried that Little Bird was in pain and I had no idea what to do about it. Who could I call on a Sunday afternoon for advice?

I tried Islands and Oceans Visitors Center but was unable to get a human on the phone, and leaving my name and number for a return call on Monday was not an option. I then called Homer Veterinary Clinic and got the number for the weekend Vet. The on-call Vet answered on the fifth ring and I explained the situation to her and asked what I should do. She said I could bring him in the following morning. “But, what about the rest of today and tonight if he is suffering,” I wondered? “Isn’t there anyone else I can call?”

She told me there was a bird rehabilitation woman named Charlotte in Homer and was happy to find her phone number for me. I got Charlotte on the line just as she was leaving for her shift at the Lynx Golf Course. She told me to bring Little Bird to her there. Deal, I arranged to meet her at the golf course in an hour. I got Little Bird ready for the trip by placing him in a deeper box with some fleece lining.

Little Bird seemed to be getting stronger as the day progressed but he still couldn’t fly even though both his wings were flapping. On the drive to the golf course I had a difficult time keeping him in the box because he was determined to escape. Hang in there little buddy; we’re going to get you some help!

Finally we arrived in the parking lot at the Golf Course and Charlotte was there to meet us. We took Little Bird inside so she could examine him. She thought perhaps he was still stunned a bit. But, because his legs were hanging and not engaging in his efforts, she said he also might have a neurological injury. She told me not to worry; she had rehabilitated birds in much worse shape than Little Bird. She explained that he is a migratory bird and if his injuries require a few weeks of healing, he would have to stay with her for the winter. But, if he’s up and flying in the next few days he will be able to make his return trip south to the warm country.

I am confident that he will be nursed back to health in comfort no matter how long it takes. He’s in good hands. I said my goodbye to the sweet little bird and gave Charlotte my phone number. She promised to call and let me know how he was doing. I left knowing Little Bird had a strong fortitude and was not about to give up the fight. Bye, Bye Birdie. Grow strong with time and have a good life. ☺

Tales of a Dogsitter - Quirky Misty

Tales of a Dogsitter – Quirky Misty
Misty, one of the California blonde rescue girls from Camp Cocker, arrived at TBTB Dog Camp sporting a bag of clever tricks. First, she has the most adorable tilted head with a mop-top (some call it a cocker crown – long hair on the top of her head) making her look oh so sweet and innocent, It took me a few days to figure out she was the culprit getting into all things Not Dog.

Misty Ann could leap off the ground in a single bound, (about three feet in the air) and grab whatever she saw on her way down, and then run with it. She started with the trash – easy to solve. I just moved the trash far enough back off the counter that she can no longer reach it. She then moved on to grabbing food bowls that were intended for arriving dogs, off the counter. All the dogs loved her for this one because when the bowl hit the floor and scattered food, the game of clean-up was on. Again, this was easy to solve. I just moved the bowls away from the counter edge.

Misty also loved to lie on the kitchen table so she could be eye level with the activities. Solved that too, moved the chairs away from the table so she couldn’t get up there. The other day I left my bathroom makeup drawer open and couldn’t find the mascara. Later I noticed it in the doggie pup tent – she doesn’t chew anything but food, but she loves to grab and run – it’s a game with her. And she’s sneaky – sometimes you don’t see her do it, especially if she doesn’t have to jump up to reach her target.

Her latest trick. . . I’m sorry to say is one she has taught the other dogs. I was on the back deck yesterday enjoying the sun. The puppies and I had just returned from a run and everyone was tired and ready for a nap - or so I thought. Duke the Rottweiler pup and my other spaniels were just ready to nod off in the glorious sunshine when I realized Forty West and RockDog were missing from the crowd. I assumed they fell asleep downstairs (in my dreams) but something told me I better check. Quiet puppies could mean trouble.

I crept down the stairs and there they were – the two of them, inside the cabinet with both their noses buried inside a box of CornFlakes. OMG it was so funny. They were quietly chowing down and didn’t even notice when I came up behind them to snap a picture and then say in my big, bad, scary voice: “what are you doing?,” totally startling both of them. Misty of course was sitting in the background with a smirk on her face. I have chased her away from the Lazy Susan cabinet many times. I cleaned up the cornflake crumbs and checked the box to find Forty West and RockDog had devoured almost the entire thing. The good news, in no time flat they were sound to sleep on the back deck with the rest of the pack.

The puppies now know how to rotate the Lazy Susan cabinet so they can help themselves to whatever they want on the shelf – they figured this out by watching Quirky Misty! Needless to say she has integrated very well into the TBTB resident pack and made lots of friends with her antics. The Lazy Susan problem is not so easy to solve, especially with all the dogs aping each other. It will require a child’s latch on the cabinet to keep them out, especially since they have been rewarded with yummy food every time they open it.

I’m now onto Misty’s bouncing up and down, so when I hear it I call out to her and she immediately stops or comes upstairs. But, the other mischief – well I find myself counting heads all the time so that I know if any dogs are missing before the trouble starts! It’s impossible to get mad at these adorable little faces – I just have to stay one step ahead of them and think like a Dog. Needless to say when I have a group of puppies here for the day it can be quite exhausting. Oh well, just another day in the life of a dogsitter. I truly love my job – it’s a real HOWL! ☺

Tales of a Dogsitter – Tightass*

*American Slang meaning: an inhibited or excessively self-controlled person.


I have a friend that works for a bear viewing charter service here in Homer and she often refers clients to TBTB Dog Camp. Rather than leave their dogs in a camper for 8-10 hours while they are off photographing frolicking brown bears catching salmon, clients can drop their dogs off with me for daycare or an overnight stay.

Yesterday my friend had an extremely uptight east coast couple inquiring about a bear-viewing trip – she referred to the woman as a “tightass.” She can get away with stereotyping east coasters because she is in fact one herself and can immediately recognize the attitude - so different from what you find in Alaska.

This particular couple was concerned about leaving their dog home alone in the RV, so my friend mentioned TBTB Dog Camp adding that the owner (that be me) loved dogs so much that they were allowed on the furniture, and that she even let them sleep on the bed with her if they wanted to.

OMG, well that did it – sunk the sale, out the window, over the top! My friend said the look on the woman’s face was priceless. Aghast, they both stared at her totally stone-faced, no hint of even a small smile, and tightass said: That will NEVER work. We do NOT allow our dog on any furniture.”

Recognizing the humor in all this and knowing the sale was gone, my friend simply agreed. “Yelp. You’re right, that will never work!” They didn’t book the trip. . . or dog camp. ☹

I wonder if a tightass client would produce a tightass dog? No doubt, but I bet the dog – with a little encouragement - would have a ball letting his hair down. He could really cut loose and have a once in a lifetime experience at Tails-By-The-Bay Dog Camp, where dogs are allowed to be dogs. And except for the smile on his lips, who would know the difference? ☺

Tales of a Dogsitter - Wino?

As I sit here in bed writing TBTB Chronicles I am enjoying a glass of cabernet sauvignon. The sun is sinking behind the horizon earlier these days and the leaves are changing colors too quick for comfort. There is a definite bite in the evening air. The locals know that fall is upon us here in Homer and winter is but a couple months away. Yikes – it seems to be coming really fast!

There is nothing better than a nice glass of red vino to take the chill away - comfort for the soul. I look around and see six dogs sharing my bed as I write. Of course they are all laid out, fast asleep with the heavy breathing of happy canines. Life is comfortable at TBTB Dog Camp.

I creep out of bed for a bathroom run careful not to wake anyone up, run downstairs and am back in less than 5 minutes. And there she is. . OMG, I can’t believe it! Camp Cocker Misty, Quirky Misty we call her because she is so hilarious, is standing on the nightstand with her entire snout in my glass. She is lapping away at the wine just like water and loving it! I struggle to get her face out of my glass and notice that she had consumed more than half of it. Needless to say she is now sound to sleep by my side. Can’t fault the girl for having good taste. Sweet dreams girly! Hopefully you won’t have a nasty headache in the morning.

Do you suppose dogs can develop a taste for good wine? If so, would they then be called a Dino?