NOTE: The following post was written (duh, obviously) a long time ago but was never posted. I thought I’d toss this in just in case anybody still follows Max’s adventures.
The Malt will be spending Xmas in jail.
Meanwhile, the Alpha Japanese Female (AJF) and I will be in Tokyo, supping on fine sushi, nibbling seasonal Japanese delicacies and quaffing decent sake.
As you might imagine, Max thinks he is getting the short end of the fetching stick.
Not that he will suffer; his accommodations will be at his Vet’s office where he’ll get tons of affection and attention.
That’s as it should be. His medical treatments over the past months have provided for a very prosperous year. He’s Santa Dog, the gift that keeps giving.
Here’s a quick doggie update for the unfortunate three of you who actually read this silly blog and don’t just skim the photos:
After a tough summer and autumn, the Pupski’s paws finally healed. Wow, was that an ordeal, more for him than us but along the way we all took a turn in the Pit ‘O Misery – dilly dilly.
The new Vet was brilliant in his diagnosis and treatment. Max was weaned from the debilitating steroids the former Vet used in lieu of discovering and addressing the real problem of demodex mites.
The new medicines killed all the little mite bastards and once their small, stinking, fecal-filled and rotted corpses (let me know if I’m getting too graphic) were flushed from his hair follicles, the Malt recovered slowly but surely.
Along with the elimination of the mites came a big increase in Max’s energy. Without those nasty drugs he has lost quite a bit of weight and is more active, playful and just generally more youthful than before.
Best of all is that his new anti-itchy medicine (Cytopoint injections) has worked spectacularly well at making him comfortable despite his allergies.
But then arose a new crisis. The Vet concluded that Max had several teeth that needed to be removed. Some of the problem toofers were likely congenital issues but some were due to cracked teeth which allowed small abscesses to form at the root level.
In full disclosure, some of Floofer’s dental problems were probably due to negligence on our part. We were rightfully scolded for not being the most diligent of dog tooth brushers. Although his teeth looked white there was evidence of periodontal disease which might have been avoided had we done a better job as owners.
The Fluff did not seem to be in pain but we learned that doggers will often mask mouth problems because showing any distress in that area would make them appear weak in the eyes of the pack, a bad thing back in the day.
So our favorite white dog just underwent six extractions. As I write this he is on the floor under my desk, eyes crossed, groovin’ on the fine pharmaceuticals prescribed to him.
His prognosis is excellent and we hope that this resolves the last of Max’s outstanding health problems.
All told, this year we shelled out about $3k on the Pupperoni’s medical expenses.
Even as I write that it seems hard to believe and it stings more knowing a fair sum of that total came from chasing treatments that never had a chance of working.
Thanks a whole bunch Doctor I-Hope-You-Get-Demodex-Mites-in-Your-Armpits.
OK, so I’m a little bitter.
Some folks think we’re crazy to have laid out so much cash – what? on an animal! – but we don’t regret it in the least. He’s a family member.
We love the little dog (who we now call “Gummy”) and, fortunately, we are in a position that we can take care of him and, hey, those kids don’t need an inheritance anyway.
We tried to tell Max how lucky he is but he keeps bringing up the Tokyo trip and moaning about being “abandoned” over Christmas.
Oh yeah, the Tokyo trip. Sorry, I digressed a bit.
It all started when a family squabble broke out about where to gather for Christmas dinner. Thanksgiving was a contested event but peace finally broke out. We weren’t thrilled at the idea of another bicker fest.
From our perspective, the only certainty was that the Big Feed would not be at our house – I mean, a major advantage of retired living is to freeload off the kids, amirite?
We envisioned sitting peacefully at one of the Chateau de la Spawn playing with the grandchildren, sipping wine, getting tipsy and nodding off during TV sports shows only to be gently woken in time for a fine dining experience.
In return, we promised to smile absent-mindedly from time to time, silently pass gas and forget the in-laws’ names like sweet old people are supposed to do during holiday gatherings.
When it appeared that no consensus was forming on a Christmas venue and the debate was devolving into an internicine battle of snipes, the AJF and I decided we’d simply eschew the tussle and, instead, treat ourselves to a jaunt to Japan. Take it from me, Christmas is a truly magical time of year in Tokyo.
Selfish? Of course. Neener, neener, neener. The kids will manage fine. We’ll dote on the grands at New Years and, besides, we’ll be leaving everyone some nice presents for Christmas morning. If we can’t earn their affection, we’ll buy it.
Sadly, we can not take Mr. Maxwell the Maltese along with us even though he would be an improvement over many of the typical passengers on that 12 hour flight. For one, his legs are too short to kick the seat back.
Anyway, he’s quite miffed about being boarded and it’s going to take a lot of apologies to regain his good graces when we return.
Maybe we’ll bring Gummy a nice souvenir and some soft Japanese treats.
Categories: The Dog From Rancho Cucaracha