- Pets and Animals»
- Dogs & Dog Breeds»
- Dog Breeds
A Morning With MY ADHD American Eskimo "Puppy"
To make the long part of the story short, my 17 year old Pomeranian who weighed in at around 12 lbs passed in March. In my desperate search to find just the right little guy to help heal my heart, I was brought to an American Eskimo sight. I thought, this is it. This is the kind I want. And, I want a TOY eskie...not a mini or standard because it'll look very similar to my little Stimp (the pom).
So, I get with the breeder, pick out a puppy and he is delivered to me in May. Well you can see that while it is true he is an "Eskie".....he sure as heck is not a toy. He is closer to being a standard than an toy. Don't think the breeder, who I believe is in the puppy mill business, didn't hear what I had to say. Regardless of his seeming affliction to gigantism, weighing in at 16 lbs and 14 inches at the whither, AT 6 MOS of age, I love this little "knuckle head" more than anything.
He has a very big heart, a huge personality, is fearless, and barks ALOT. He tears through the house when he is brought in, destroying or looking to destroy everything he can get his little mouth on.
Anyway, on to the main story....(for those of you wondering about dogs and cat poo(p) you'll love this!!) My fiance and I go out to dinner on Thursday night. Okay, we stayed out maybe a wee bit too late. I get up on Friday for my morning coffee and to work from home. It was snowing so I bring the little guy in...Timmy is his name, a derivative of "STIMP" (my pom).
Alright so I've got a little headache, am not movin too fast but all is well. I currently have a cat box (you know where THIS is going) in my main floor bathroom becaue I am training a new kitten. I am usually "Joanny on the spot" when it comes to flushing the solid matter down the toilet when it appears. I was about to do that as soon as I was don't going to the bathroom myself. Before I could get 'er finished up, Timmy comes screaming into the bathroom, grabs the solid waste from the cat box into his mouth and starts running....and I'm not talking "clip clop clip clop"...I'm talking breakneck speed through my house. If you can't quite get the vision, we have a dog with cat poop in his mouth pealing through my house. Running circles around the couch, coffee tables, running up and down the stairs, leaping over the cats and will eventually master his trick of sliding though my hands like a greased pig when I try to catch him.
And, you all know you can't "chase" a dog because then it becomes a game. Everytime I took a single step in his direction, he'd take off again. Several times he stopped and laid his mouth watering nuggets onto the carpet for the feast. As I'm hurdling over the furniture and other small animals and screeching "NOOOOO!", he'd pick up his prize and take off again. So much for the peaceful morning with coffee, work and easing into the day. He's not necessarily been through obedience training so won't stop on a dime like my shep does if you call his name. I got tired of the game....looked at my shep, Mia, and said in a pathetic whimper, "could you please go an get him?". She went after him and when I want him, she takes him down by the nape of his neck (very gently...best shep I've ever had) so I can "retrieve" whatever it is the little monkey has in his mouth. Alright, problem solved. Bath time now.
Bath time. Oh relaxing bath time.You be amazed how "un" relaxing it is when you've got a dog with ADHD running through your house like an elephant and then the shep gets involved. They are wrestling and taking each other down like two high school wrestlers at the state finals. At any rate, Timmy propels into the bathroom and finds me in the tub...I can see in his eyes, his thought "oh, she's in some sort of liquid with foam....I bet she can't move too fast with that action goin' on." He was right. I finally gave up. I watched in horror as he pulled my underwear around the room. That game ended uneventfully, but through the corner of my eye I saw him zipping through my bedroom with something pink in color in his mouth. At that point, I said "screw it. Momma's got a headache, I'll deal with it later."
I sat back in my warm tub, took a sip of coffee (which was lava hot, BTW), and dreamed of a more quiet times. I never did find out what that "pink" thing was that he so gleefully stole from my bedroom.©