December Pupdate

Curly Joe's first Christmas is rapidly approaching. Personally, I'm a bit of a grinch about Christmas. After our dad died, my sister took it upon herself to decorate the house for the holidays. We haven't had any sort of Christmas (with a tree and presents) in seven or eight years, but this year my sister is determined to go all out: dig the tree out of storage, string up some lights and ornaments, put some twinkle lights out front. Me, I just want to get a leg lamp and stick it in the front window. My south-facing bedroom window faces the road, and I think it would be hysterical to put a leg lamp there. None of our asshole neighbors would get it, but we would. I actually got my sister a mini leg lamp a few years ago, but the cats spend a lot of time curled under it for warmth, so the stocking has gotten a bit ... furry.

But I digress. Oh, hey. Curly Joe finally (just now) chewed through his fire hose and pulled out the squeaker. Garbage time!

Curly continues to do well. He raided the garbage quite a few times last week, so I've been worried he'll have a flare up or something, but he seems to be okay. He's still on L/D, Hepato Support and the 3V supplements. Every now and then, he'll eat around the Hepato Support capsule (I just stick it on top of his food) and I'll have to yank open his gob and cram it down his throat.

Saturday, Sis and I took Curly Joe on an outing. I can't say what we did because it's a surprise for LaShea and Chad, but Curly had a great time and met a lot of nice people, including Dr. Brown. She is the doctor I met last year (through my regular vet) who did acupuncture for Lady and Meathead. It was good to see her again, as she was on maternity leave for a while, and we didn't have a reason to see her after Meathead died in July. She introduced us to a massage therapist (whose name I've forgotten), and we chatted for a bit. Everyone had to stop and say hello to Curly, which is pretty much par for the course with this guy. He's irresistable. When it came time for Curly to [do that thing that's a secret], he wasn't happy about it at all. Afterwards, we went back over and continued talking with Dr. Brown. She said a lot of nice things about me and my sister and how we have the island of misfit toys except for animals. And also the fountain of youth because our animals live so long. "Curly Joe, even if he doesn't get his liver fixed, will probably live to be 15 and they'll go, "Well, he's starting to get a little bit of a limp.'" Oh, I hope.

Sis mentioned how I wanted to get Curly Joe trained for pet therapy, and the massage therapist said that he would be perfect for it and I should definitely look into it for him. That made me so happy. For one thing, now I know I'm not biased; there really is something about Curly Joe that draws people to him. I mean, all dogs are wonderful, but Curly Joe is special somehow. At home, he's hyper, obnoxious, jumping all over Tank, but when we're out in public, he's all quiet and submissive. I dunno what that's about, but I'm going to roll with it.

At any rate, here are some recent pictures and video of Curly Joe:

On our way to [the thing].
Afterwards, I stopped at Petco to replace the leash Curly ate last week.


Curly Speak is funny.

Yesterday, Curly Joe was frolicking around the office with a toy in his mouth. He was play growling at Tank, teasing him with the toy. This went on so long, we tuned them out. Tank, who had been silent the entire time, got fed up and went, "ARF!" and Curly Joe dropped the toy and went, "Damn." I keep telling Tank to kick his ass. I hope someday he'll take my advise and put that little dog in place.