Robin Lee Hatcher's Write Thinking

Life with Poppet

It's no secret to my family and friends or to the readers of this blog and folks on Facebook that I love my pesky, high-pitched barking, high-energy canine pal, Poppet. She brings me joy and laughter and companionship. (She also gives me headaches, not to mention probably making me deaf, but that's another story.)

Poppet's registered name is Ma Poupette des Bois (My Small Doll of the Woods). Actually, Poppet (an English word of endearment as heard in Mrs. Doubtfire and Pirates of the Caribbean, derived from the French poupette) isn't as small as most of her breed. She's an inch too tall to be allowed to show. But since I didn't want a show dog but a pet, that doesn't mean anything to me. And a wonderful pet she is, despite her less enjoyable traits. Today I have a couple of Poppet stories to share.

I buy Poppet's medications and greenies from 1-800-PetMeds. Every time they send me an order, they drop in a large dog biscuit. Since all of my orders are for a dog under 10 pounds, I'm not sure why they give me a biscuit that looks like it could weigh 10 pounds itself but they do. Poppet never eats the large biscuit (sometimes she doesn't eat the small ones that we get at drive-through banks and Moxie Javas either; she prefers more expensive treats). She'll just carry the big biscuit around the house until eventually I toss it in the trash.

Well, the other day I got a new order of her heartworm prescription, and there was another big biscuit. I gave it to her, then went outside to water the new grass I'm pampering around my back patio. Poppet came with me. The next thing I know, I looked up to discover her pushing dirt over the dog biscuit that she'd just buried.

I laughed so hard. Poppet has never been a digger. Thus her instinct to bury that large dog biscuit took me by surprise. I tried to explain to her that the biscuit would disintegrate but she didn't seem to care. Do you suppose it will sprout a dog bone plant later this summer?

Next story: Awhile back, Poppet got her right rear leg tangled up in her doggie seatbelt (yes, I put her in a seatbelt; I don't want her hurt by a sudden stop). Anyway, a time or two since then, she's acted as if that same leg bothers her. It never lasts more than a few minutes, but it's made me watchful. Papillons are known for their fragile bones.

So last week, I got up in the morning and carried Poppet with me out of the bedroom to turn off the alarm. I've always carried her so that she doesn't run down the hall and wake Mom up. Now she expects me to carry her! After turning off the alarm, I walked to the back door, opened it, and set her down. "Go do your business," I said, just like every morning.

But Poppet didn't jump to obey. She couldn't. She was limping. Her right rear leg was held up and she couldn't go down the one big step to the patio. Gasp! Was she hurt that badly? Visions of surgery and thousands of dollars flashed through my head. I bent down to pick her up again.

If you've ever seen this breed, you know that they have beautiful long flowing tails. Well, it turned out nothing was wrong with Poppet's leg. Instead, her tail had a knot in it and was acting like a sling, holding her leg off the ground. LOL!

Gotta love my life with Poppet. Never a dull moment.

~robin

PS Click on photos to see large versions

another farewell and a word of thanksgiving

For the second time in 29 days, I went to the vet's to put another beloved pet to sleep. Once again, cancer was the culprit.

On Labor Day weekend of 1994, I drove out into the farm country of southwestern Idaho to get a puppy, a border collie. Misty was adorable from day one. She loved the outdoors and was always on the move. When she got the chance, she loved to herd the grandchildren when they were toddlers. We had lots and lots of video of her racing around the backyard, throwing a biodegradable flower pot, minus its bottom, into the air and catching it by sticking her snout in the air and letting it fall over her to become a collar. Crazy, crazy dog.

Misty loved people, and her favorite thing in the world was to catch the Frisbee. She would do it until she dropped dead if a person wanted to throw it long enough. And she was smart. She was also a little dangerous if she got to playing in the house. She was no respecter of property.

She was a good "big sister" to Tiko (2 years younger) and Poppet (almost 10 years younger). Three female dogs is never a good idea, I suppose. But it was the littlest of the three that was the most alpha female. Yet even when she was picked on by either Tiko or Poppet, Misty usually submitted, preferring peace to strife.

When I downsized my home and yard, Misty went to live with my oldest daughter and her family. They were all so good to Misty and loved her as if she'd always lived with them.

Yesterday, we were all five of us there to say goodbye, and all five of us were crying. But the tumor in her throat made her breathing agony and it was painful to hear how she was struggling. There was a relief when it was clear she didn't have to struggle anymore.

It is comforting to think that Tiko was waiting for her and that the two of them are once again running and playing as they did so often in life.

Good old dog. I'm gonna miss you.

******

In keeping with my month of gratitude expressions, I'm thankful today for all the pets who have added such joy to my life, from childhood to now.

-rlh-

Poppet and her hedgehog

I just had to share a photo of Poppet playing with one of her favorite toys, her hedgehog. Isn't she cute?

you simply must watch these puppies

This is just too much. A puppy cam watching these little guys in their crate (I assume it is their crate). You can view them 24/7 if you so choose. And as I posted it, the puppies were whining at each other and Poppet started sniffing around and barking. She thinks I'm cheating on her. LOL

Streaming Video by Ustream.TV

sing to her, second try

Note: A number of people have told me they couldn't view the file I uploaded yesterday, so I checked out YouTube, and it was there. I'm deleting the other attempt from 8/8/09. Pardon me if I'm repeating for some of you.

I'm working with a dog trainer to rid Poppet of some of her bad habits (barking after I've told her to stop; jumping up on visitors; etc.). But now I see that I should bag all that and just sing to her instead. Think it would work?