I thought about titling this post Getting Intimate with Your Dog, but then I thought that might sound really weird. But that’s what this is about. And it’s weird.
Scout and I have had a few days now to get acquainted with her privates. Here’s how we quickly learned the process of cleaning said area was going to have to work after attempt number one.
First, B gets Scout all riled up and excited.
Next, he tells her to lie down, which she does, because she knows what lying down will mean: a tummy rub.
She gets into this pose automatically, so much is the joy that comes with a tummy rub.
Then, while B talks to Scout in “Scout language” (it sounds something like a dog trying to mimic English. Scout does it. Thus, “Scout language”) and rubs her tummy madly, I take the medicated wipe—which looks just like the kind of wipes they make for cleaning your face but smells like rotten disinfectant—and rub her downstairs. Take note: I have no idea what I’m doing. B laughs at me the whole time. Scout looks at me as if to say, “What are you doing, Mommy? Are you sure you want to do that? That thing smells funny.” After about a minute of this, I throw the wipe away and wash my hands, hoping I got some of the medicine where it counts.
We do this whole routine twice a day, after which we try desperately to keep Scout from licking all the medicine right off herself, thus rendering the whole ordeal worthless. Oh, and after the first time it happened, we learned that if she licks the medicine off, it makes her lick nonstop for hours afterward in some sort of temporary case of dry mouth. Hours. The first time it happened, I ran around the house trying to find a place I could get out of earshot. It was like nails on a chalkboard for me.
Again, B laughed.
So toss into all of this that we’re also cleaning Scout’s left ear and administering pills with breakfast, and you get a taste of Scout’s current medicine load. At this point, she knows the routine so well that last night she wouldn’t even come to bed she was so afraid of getting her ear cleaned. Realizing that we’d fallen into too much of a routine, we changed it up yesterday and cleaned her ear right after dinner. She was blindsided by the change in routine and it really threw her off, but not enough to stop her from struggling with us. It’s the cleaning solution that she hates, so once we get that into her ear she behaves a bit better, allowing us to swab her ear canal with relative ease, along with a hearty dose of puppy dog eyes. After we’re all done, she gets a sweet potato treat, and all is quickly right with the world.
Her ear has shown improvement. I can’t help but worry every time I feed her though that there’s something in her food counteracting all of our valiant efforts, some silent allergy that we don’t know about. All we can do at this point is continue to try to knock out this infection so that we can begin phase two of Dr. C’s plan: Reinventing Scout’s diet from the ground up, and hopefully finding out what it is that’s behind all of this.
Watch her be allergic to cats.