Roaring Corgi

And then the corgi died. Another update.

Well, shit, you guys. 

If you read my last post (I mean, go read it now I suppose if you haven't because context helps), you will remember that Crazy Dog died December 2016 and my horse, Sassy, died December 2017. The corgi managed to make it to -- you guessed it -- DECEMBER 2019. For all things holy. Can one of my pets not die in December? That month is supposed to be filled with joy and too much sugar and terribly made gingerbread structures. But, for us, it's just a month where animals die. Cool cool. 

With Crazy Dog and Sassy I had some control or at least a warning. CD was diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer (malignant melanoma) in early September and we had the visible tumor removed then. It grew back within four months and we knew that it was growing that quickly in other places in his body. We chose to let him go before his major organs shut down. Losing him while he still had zest for life (I mean, marginally, he mostly hated everything) was uniquely hard. He wasn't slowing down and except for some gray hair on his chin (beyond cute, btw) he didn't seem old at all. We used to joke he would live until he was 20 just to spite us. (Reminder: he was hateful.) Letting him run around in the grass and eat a McDonald's cheeseburger the same morning we had someone stick a needle into his leg to stop his heart is HARD. It's so hard, you guys. He wasn't supposed to die that young. I still very clearly miss him. I didn't even intend to write that paragraph but here we are. 

Sassy was in a lot of pain before her death and it was very much time for her to go and I am grateful that she was released from that pain. I am not grateful it was in December. 

Flash back to sometime around 2015 or so. My partner and I were walking the dogs and I could see my horse was starting to get up there and have issues and the corgi was slowing down. I told him that I was sure that all three of them would die within a three-year time span. Well, call me a GODDAMN PROPHET. 

Roxy died on December 21st, 2019 and that meant all three of them died within a three-year span. Line up and let me pick your lottery numbers, folks! Shit. Or predict your death? <horrified emoji>

Roxy had been slowing down for a while, even before CD died. She was almost 14 years old and spent 23.75 hours a day asleep on the floor. She didn't even go on walks in the last 6 months or so of her life. She didn't want to go on them and they were very hard for her anyway with all of her arthritis. She just ate and slept. And we were fine with that. I mean, after CD was gone we tried to get another corgi. We met with a rescue and brought Roxy with us to meet that dog. She tried to murder it. Well, alright, little bitch dog, I guess you don't want a sibling. After a few failed attempts at this and one car ride home after such an encounter where I cried and told my partner, "I don't think I can deal with dogs fighting all the time anymore. I did it for years and I can't do it again." We decided to let Roxy be an only dog. 

And you know what? She was happy AF. It was astounding to see her relax. I had never seen her so freaking chill about stuff. Not about the UPS guy, of course, that guy can go to hell, but other than that, she seemed positively AT PEACE by herself. Huh. All this time she was probably waiting for Crazy Dog to just DIE. Maybe that's why she tried to take him out herself a few times? Really, I shouldn't be surprised. She was more of a people dog anyhow. Pretty quickly her hearing started to go until she was basically deaf the last few months of her life. It was.... glorious, if I am being honest. She didn't hear that awful UPS guy anymore (or anything). And what does a dog have to bark at when the world is silent? Nothing! <does a dance>

We were at my family holiday party all day on December 21st. We left Roxy home like we always did. She just slept away the days anyway. We didn't get home until almost 7 p.m. and when I walked in the door I knew something was wrong. Roxy was laying on the floor but almost kind of crouched - not relaxed. There was poop near her and she never does that inside. I thought maybe she was just starting to lose her bowels as an old dog (she already had some nerve degeneration in her spine) but the way her body was positioned seemed.... off. I lifted her to her feet and she slid back down, letting her legs push out like the splits. This was not right. We took her to the carpet, thinking she just still had some nerve issue and needed traction help. She could barely stand. And her head was tilting weirdly. We wrapped her in a towel and went to the urgent care. 

As we were driving, my partner turned to me and said, "I think we have to assume she isn't coming home with us." I am usually a realist about these things but I kept shaking my head and saying, "No, no, we don't know that. She might be fine. We have to try." We called the urgent care ahead of time to tell them we were bringing her in as an emergency and when they picked up the phone I couldn't speak. I was doing that thing where you silent cry and I had no breath to form words. I finally got out, "We are almost there. We have our dog. I think she is dying." They couldn't hear me and I had to repeat it. Then I hung up. 

And I wasn't wrong. When we walked in with her, her head was lolling around and I kept pushing it up on my shoulder and talking to her. The vet techs whisked her to the back and then came in to tell us that she was most likely bleeding out internally and she needed blood immediately because she was in shock and without blood we'd lose her. I asked them, "If we give her the blood, will it save her?" The vet tech paused and then looked back at us..."I wouldn't normally say this but I really don't think it will save her. I think she's too far gone." 

We decided to hold her one last time while they put her to sleep. And then she was gone. 

I think she waited for us to come home to die. 

Driving home from the vet with just a dog collar is always awful. 

But somehow this was easier than Crazy Dog. While it was traumatic to come home to a dying dog and then lose her an hour later, she had grown so old that it felt like she'd had a really good life and had lived it fully. It felt complete. 

Roxy was not a good dog. She was stubborn and willful, a hater of dogs, a disobeyer of rules. Here is more about her terribleness: Part 1 and Part 2. But she was loyal and a good watch dog and great office buddy and good friend greeter and avid butt wiggler. And she roared. She roared into life and all the way through it. She inspired this blog and her instagram and our love for corgis (despite her faults). 

Pour one out for the worst corgi on earth who is not actually on earth anymore. We loved her immensely and we miss her. 

Crazy Dog to Cancer Dog. An Update.

Well, it's been a while. Like, A WHILE. Awkward.
Let me bring you up to speed. 

This guy? Rigby? Otherwise known as Crazy Dog?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He's dead now. The cancer got him. We saw the tumor only a few months after my last post on here and he died by December of 2016.

We always joked that he was an asshole. And he was.

But he was also my light and my heart. I did not know at the time how much he meant to me. It has been over two years and the wound is still very very fresh. Dumb things can set me off into some ugly crying. Like, really dumb things. Dogs that look like him. Those stupid videos on Facebook of dogs finding their owners after being lost for a year. Watching the recent movie, Dumbo, which wasn't even that good, TBH, but when that baby elephant had to leave his mom, I. LOST. MY. SHIT. I was blubbering and dripping snot all over that fancy theater seat. 

And I still do weird things, like refer to "the dogs" when we only have the bitchy corgi left. I don't know why but I can't quite pry his presence out of my life. Even new people I meet, when asked about pets, I will bring him up. WHY. He is dead. Over two years gone. Those people have GOT to think I am crazy. I don't want to get all sappy, but he's not gone from me, I suppose. He defined so much of what I have done since he entered my life in 2004: this blog, lots of research into dog behavior, a passion for rescuing, a distaste for chihuahuas (worst breed, pretty sure), friends I have met through animal rescues... a lot of stuff. He was the first dog I had as an adult, even if I didn't really want him originally. He was the first dog that confounded me so much by his behavior (DRAMA) that I one time sat on the floor of our first apartment in 2005 and cried over all the damage he had done to our stuff and all the stress he was serving me. 

When Crazy Dog was diagnosed with cancer I left this blog and I left my writing mostly. It hasn't been a healthy thing for me, but I am still processing it. My therapist (who is great) told me to write about how I was feeling on here. My response was something like, "But my blog is funny and this isn't. No one wants to see me cry all over their browser." So I wouldn't do it. And she kept prodding me. 

I loved that dog more than any other non-human creature I have ever known. Still do. When I admitted that, shamefully, to my therapist, she told me, "He was not just a dog. He was a family member." (AND NOW I AM CRYING AGAIN.) She's right. I don't know how to be better. So I am writing this and putting it out there like that same therapist told me to do. 

But, wait! There's more! 

We lost Crazy Dog in December 2016 and then in December 2017, my horse, Sassy, died. Yep. Same month only one year later. TRIGGERED. 

I loved Sassy. She was my first horse. She was weird and goofy and had her own opinions on specific things (apples were great, pineapple was disgusting). She gave me confidence to stay in the riding game after being thrown from a horse years ago. She gave my niece and nephew some of their first pony rides. She carted around a friend's son on trail once she was too old to carry my adult ass around. She forever loved scratches on her withers and would always scratch you back with her prehensile nose, no matter how shitty she felt. Even with her degenerative tissue disease making it hard for her to get up, she would always roll in the warm arena sand on a sunny day. But then she could barely stand because she was in so much pain. And she passed peacefully a few days before Christmas in 2017.

And while her death was certainly hard for me and I cried for days and still miss her when I am at the barn now, it wasn't quite like losing CD. I think one of the hardest parts of losing Sassy was that it came so close to losing Rigby. And now December kind of sucks, you know? I keep checking the corgi's breathing when she's napping (she's old as shit now, too) and tell her to NOT DIE in the month of December. Pretty please.

I know a lot of you have asked me to write here again. All of the above is why I haven't. 

So here I am, doing what I think is a cathartic thing. And maybe I will be back more. I'm not sure. I still have that terrible corgi who is still terribly terrible and I have some new pets, including a new horse and some pet rats, and they are all pretty funny too. But this blog was born out of CD and the corg. So, we'll see. 

But in memory of these animals who changed me for the better and entered by life for what feels like too brief of a time, some photos:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Day in the Life of My Weird Horse

My horse is a weirdo. It’s partly why I love her and partly why I want to tear out my hair on a weekly basis.

Here are things that would scare/spook/freak out the average horse, but at which my horse doesn’t bat an eye:
Motorcycles
Cars
Large trash trucks
All these above vehicles driving within 10 feet of her
Cars/motorcycles backfiring
Dirt bikes
Cyclists riding within feet of her
Strollers
People running on trail or on the street
Dogs barking at her
Dogs rushing at her
Fireworks
Parades
Walking in a parade, surrounded by parade
Cell phone sounds
Weird shadows
Deer on trail (within feet of her)
Blowing flags/tarps/sheets/etc.

Here are the things that will send her into such a nervous panic that she basically has a breakdown for a week and stops eating:
The weather goes from hot to hotter
The weather goes from cold to colder
That gutter she walked over before now has a tiny bit of water in it
That wind seems different
Pretty sure that one thing right there wasn’t right there last time I was here. Monster.
The horse that is normally to the left of me in his stall is now still only four feet from me, but not in his stall.
The horse that is normally to the left of me in his stall is now still only four feet from me, but now he is in the arena.
That other horse that is normally to the right of me in his stall is now still only four feet from me, but not in his stall.
The horse that is normally to the right of me in his stall is now still only four feet from me, but now he is in the arena.

It’s a damn good thing she’s cute.

Where Roxy Pisses Me off. Again. Like Always.

The corgi is getting up there in years. She's over 10 years old and she's starting to be even MORE pigheaded, as if that is even possible. 

Here's a scenario that happens almost every night now before we go to bed. (I have translated all of Roxy's dirty looks into English for you. You're welcome.)

Me: Roxy, upstairs. 

Roxy: Nope.

Me: Roxy. Now. Come.

Roxy: .... nah.

Me: ROXY. COME.

Roxy: (takes two steps up) This seems good. 

Me: Yes, Roxy, you jerk. Two steps up the stairs has always been acceptable, except NO. Not ever. COME HERE NOW.

Roxy: (takes one more step) I'm done now. I'm such an obedient dog. 

Me: ROXY! UP! STAIRS! NOW! COME! (Starts to come toward her.)

Roxy: (runs up stairs quickly so she doesn't get her ass kicked..... then stops before last step to throw me one more side eye.)

Me: OHMYGOD JUST COME NOW.

Roxy: Human, obviously I wanted to come upstairs because I am here now. (saunters up last step with confidence as high as ever.)

Here is a really cute photo of her when she was young so that I can see something redeeming about her. Because even writing this post makes me kind of hate her. Now I will go to bed and start this entire scenario. AGAIN.

ALL THE CORGI EMOTIONS!

A friend of mine sent me this gif yesterday:

My reactions, in order: 

1. Hahahaa!
2. That dog is super unstable. 

As I pondered why a corgi could be SO MAD at cabbage, of all things, I realized that it might just be a part of the corgi condition to be intense about all the things. 

Think about it. When she is mad about something she is only REALLY EFFING MAD. She never decides she's kinda mad. 

Examples:
1. When she gets mad at Crazy Dog, she just decides he should die. Sort of extreme. 
2. When she sees a windshield wiper in motion, it should also die a death similar to the cabbages above.

3. When sprinklers are on or a hose is running water she is maniacal about it. MUST BITE PRESSURIZED WATER.

4. After a bath, it is the best thing IN. THE. WORLD.

 

5. YOU ARE HOME!!!!!!!! YAAAAAYYYYYYY OMGEEEEE!!!!!!

6. This bed! I need to move it! Over here! 

 

This intensity even extends to boredom. If she is bored even a little bit, it's SO BORING I WILL SQUEAK LITTLE SOUNDS AND DRAMATICALLY FALL TO FLOOR. 

In all caps. As always. 

 

What a jerk.

I saw a quote on Facebook today that said, "They should make an alarm clock that sounds like my dog puking. Nothing gets me out of bed faster." So true. 

I was doing some work and editing essays on the couch, when I hear the sound of Crazy Dog starting to puke. It's a very distinctive sound. Like a weird gulping deep in his throat. If you've heard it, you know what I mean. 

When we hear it we are like this. So we leap up from our seats and chase him toward the back door, where I fumble with the latch to open it. He launches vomit onto the rug by the door and then then across the threshold as I fling the door open. He then trails vomit across the patio as he bolts to the grass. I mutter some expletives and then my partner and I start to clean up the mess. 

I then look up and see Crazy Dog, now feeling much better after vomiting, nonchalantly lift his leg and pee on our outdoor fire pit. He has never done that before. Now seems like a great time. Like a way to say, "THANK YOU!"

I scream at him, "NO!! NOOOOO!!!" 

He didn't even look at me. He just finished his business and trotted away. 

What a jerk. 

Conversations About Dogs

Some recent conversations about these dumb little animals that live in our house but don't do anything helpful like pay rent or cook dinner.

Crazy Dog

My partner and I were talking a walk today and we were having an interesting discussion about religion and how it informs people’s opinions. It digressed into fearing versus not fearing death. (Spoiler: I do not fear it since it just means I cease to be and will rot and life goes on, la la.) It’s one of the many reasons I love this man. Our walk-talks are pretty insightful and never boring. We went off a bit on a tangent…

Him: Wouldn’t it be a cool thing though, if we all did go to heaven after death? And it was just an eternal paradise?

Me: Yeah, that would be pretty cool, especially if you were reunited with loved ones who had died. <pause> What if all our dogs were there too? What if Crazy Dog is with us for ETERNITY?

Him: Yeah, but everyone would be happy there.

Me: Yeah, I guess that’s part of the “paradise” part, I suppose. But, can you imagine if it wasn’t? It would be us, running after him, warning people, “No, you can’t just pet him. He bites. Sorry!” And, “He only warms up after a long time.” FOREVER.

Him: <laughs>

Me: We would have to have an infinite supply of chicken treats so we could hand them out to every person he ever met so he would be nice to him. I’ve decided I don’t want to go to heaven anymore.

 

The Corgi

On our walks with the dogs we have to abide by some pretty strict rules now. You can see them here (it's worth the read).

And more of the adventure of the SCREAMING CORGI can be read here.

So, I am constantly ready to kick the corgi’s ass if she lets out any kind of noise at another dog or even just glares at one across the street. She is not allowed to even LOOK at them. Because LOOK is a slippery slope to SCREAM.

And, well, SCREAM a miserable place to be. Let’s be clear: for me. I think the corgi absolutely loves being in that mode.

The other night, my partner was observing that every time I finish correcting the corgi (correcting involves flipping her to her back, baring my teeth and growling at her, as well as gripping her neck scruff tightly), she just pops back up on her paws and moseys along like nothing happened. With confidence even.

Him: It seems like you correct that dog and the second you are done with it, she’s like, “I’m cool!” and just keeps going.

Me: It’s weird because she sometimes drops and flips to her back before I even touch her, and submits. And the second I back off, she pops back up. It’s like her brain says this: “I’m sorry!!! You win!!! <pops back up> BUT I’M STILL AWESOME.             

It’s too bad I can’t bottle and sell that confidence, because holy shit, she has got a ton to spare. 

The Screaming Corgi

 We take the dogs on walks every day, especially since Corgigate 2013 happened.

Roxy needs these walks to release energy and we even switched the order of procession on these walks to make her walk behind Crazy Dog so she doesn’t think she is the leader. I think it marginally helps her.

Pretty much once a week, on these walks, we will come across another dog. And all hell breaks loose. I think, if you were a bystander, you would think the humans involved in the ruckus I am about to describe were being pretty calm, considering. The dogs? Not so much.

Now, before you read any further, play one or both of these videos as the soundtrack to this story so you can get the full effect:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I0PGxUjsIPU#t=18

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x73ETbDDsgU

Those videos most accurately represent the sound that comes out of Roxy’s mouth when she sees another dog. That dog could be the slowest moving, most boring, old dog ever, and she would still hit level ten in excitement/anger within a few seconds. Just the mere presence of another dog is enough to send her over the edge. If Crazy Dog is with us on this walk, the small growl he lets out when he sees this same dog somehow lights the firecracker within Roxy, shooting her to that level ten in a few seconds.

To be clear, she will always react when she sees another dog, but if Crazy Dog is not with us on the walk, she probably only reaches about level seven, which is noticeably less dramatic, and entirely more manageable.

I have often contemplated why this is. Tonight, as I was grappling with a squirming, screaming corgi and trying to pin her to the sidewalk (all while making my own growling noises at her), it hit me. I have a theory.

She has decided that we have made a mistake by letting Crazy Dog make any decisions. Here is what must be happening in her brain:

These humans are letting this totally unstable dog lead this pack walk so I must therefore take charge of any situation that arises.
<walks along, glaring out into the street and at anything she passes, lest it do anything she hasn't previously approved.>

Crazy Dog is growling?! I can’t trust him to handle this situation!
SCREAMING CORGI COMMENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
<turns into frothing, kicking, screeching ball of fur with low center of gravity, making it hard for human to flip corgi onto back>

It’s like she thinks we took a vote at some point to let Crazy Dog in front on the walks and she thinks it’s utter bullshit that we did so.

My partner and I often ponder why it is that when she sees a dog, she has to react in such a way, ESPECIALLY because whoever is walking her kicks her furry ass over it (Me. Always.).

You would think she’d learn. Crazy Dog has gotten the message. He hasn’t let out an embarrassing screech since probably 2008.

I have a theory about this too.

I think the corgi has only one channel in her brain open at a time, whereas Crazy Dog has several. It’s how he can be so successfully manipulative. He can get mad at a dog, but then reason that he will get in trouble, and then choose not to get mad at the dog.

Roxy, on the other hand, has one channel open at a time, which means when the “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! DDOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGG!!!!!!!” channel is open, nothing else can slip through her thoughts. She doesn’t have the bandwidth in her brain to process more information than SCREAM.

And she looks like this:

(^pretend that's a corgi)

It’s like she’s dial-up and Crazy Dog is cable.

 

Giving up Shampoo. Kind of.

I've got pretty great hair. I don't really feel that way about any other part of my body, but my hair is kind of amazing. I got lucky that way and got really thick, slightly wavy, textured hair. It means I can pile product on it without weighing it down and I run screaming from any kind of volumizing shampoo, because, well, I do not need help in that department. 

Evidence (I am not the one dressed up as Russell Brand - though that is an AMAZING costume):

That big hair was just with some teasing. This girl does not need any volumizing shampoo/spray/mousse/whatever.

Because my hair is so long now and because I am lazy and don't like blow drying it (my arm gets tired, you guys), I started going longer in between shampoos. I used to do about every other day or every third day if I felt a little wacky that morning. Then I spoke to a girl at my hair salon and I told her sometimes, when I'm daring, I will only wash my hair twice a week! She looked at me deadpan and said, "I only do that when I feel REALLY motivated." She told me she washed it once a week and sometimes not that much. 

WHAT?! How is that possible? How did her hair not turn into an oil slick? She was like, "Dry shampoo. Duh."

So I tried several brands of dry shampoo and I felt like they all tended to leave little flakes in my hair after a day or two of use. It looked like dandruff. Oh, hell no. 

I started stretching an extra day or two between washes, putting my hair into a bun for an extra day. I hoped I looked stylish instead of homeless. I think I mostly pulled it off. 

What happened was the longer I did that, the easier it became. The first few weeks I did it, I could get to the fifth or sixth day and then I needed to wash it. It was pretty gross. As each week went by, my hair started getting less and less oily. 

You see, what happens when we wash our hair is that we strip the scalp of natural oils. Those oils keep our hair strong, not frizzy, and protected. When we strip it, our hair gets drier, frizzier, and then our scalp over produces oil to compensate. In reality, washing your hair often is actually bad for your hair and scalp. 

I am sure you've seen the #nopoo movement (giving up shampoo) and I wasn't quite ready to do that, so I kept washing my hair once a week. Then I thought, what the hell? And stretched it even longer. My hair/scalp adjusted. 

I then learned about cleansing conditioners, which are conditioners made without harsh soaps or the dreaded sodium laureth sulfate crap. It cuts out buildup while conditioning the hair. I was pretty skeptical at first. I tried it once and fell in love. 

As of today (November 20th), the last time I washed my hair with shampoo was on October 25th. Since then I have washed my hair only TWICE, and only with the cleansing conditioner. This weekend I will have my roots touched up so I will my hair will be shampooed once again. But after that, I plan to go until at least Christmas without using shampoo. 

Results of cleansing conditioner: 
- less frizz
- plenty of body without being crazy
- more defined natural curls/waves
- softer hair
- my natural waves hold curl longer since it's not stripped of the oils that help with that

Evidence:

And here are the products I have found and loved:

Shampoo:
Pureology Hydrate Shampoo

Conditioner:
Pureology Super Smooth Conditioner

Clenasing conditioner (can't beat the price!!):
As I Am Coconut Co-Wash Cleansing Conditioner 

Dry shampoo (works better than anyother I've tried - no flakes!):
TIGI Bead Head Matte Dry Shampoo Oh Beehive!

So, there you have it. I wrote this post because so many people have been asking me about it. Now you have all the info!

Roxy's Story: Part 2

If you haven't read part one, do so here.

Now, on to the rest of the story!

I said I would get to the part about Rigby challenging his bottom-rung-on-the-ladder status, and here we go. Roxy and Rigby’s relationship has always been fine. Not amazing, just fine. They get along. Rigby couldn’t care less about Roxy’s presence and Roxy needs to control everything Rigby does. Recently something boiled over. We aren’t even sure what did it exactly, but Roxy had enough and decided that Rigby wasn’t welcome anymore. Within in four days we had four dog fights in our house. Each time we broke them up, but they were escalating in viciousness. Roxy tore part of Rigby’s ear once and then actually peeled the skin back from the same ear another time.

We’d had enough. After the last (and most vicious) fight, I broke down in tears. Why was she acting this way? Why wouldn’t she stop? Rigby was already a nervous guy and now he was afraid to walk near her. He started sitting in corners and staring at the wall because he was afraid to face her. That wasn’t right.

We reached out to the place that had always supported me before – the PWCCSC. Beth and Dr. Becky were incredibly supportive and I think a little worried we would feel the need to rehome Roxy. Let me be clear, we would never do that. She’s part of our life and out home. I can’t imagine not coming home to that roar and that wiggly butt of fluff every day. But this was still a problem. We needed to reboot the dominance hierarchy in our house immediately. 

The conversation with Dr. Becky was pretty eye-opening. We had a tenuous grasp on dominance in our house, at best. Roxy certainly seemed to think she needed to step up to the plate, and her scapegoat was poor Rigby. Dr. Becky told me something along the lines of, “If Roxy even looks at Rigby the wrong way, she needs to think she will die.” Obviously, she was being hyperbolic, but the point was clear. We also needed to adjust things like eating locations, feeding schedules, walks, and how they were left at home when we weren’t there. Before we could even get to the point of them coexisting in the house, we had to scare the life out of her. When she would throw a look or glare in Rigby’s direction, we would grab her scruff, flip her onto her back, and get right into her face and tell her “NO.” But we did it in a fairly melodramatic fashion. She had to think we might kill her if she didn’t start following these new rules, and quickly at that.

Feeding: 

We stopped feeding them in the same room. They never stole each other’s food, but we didn’t need another opportunity for a fight. They are now fed in their crates where they can’t see each other. I don’t know if this is because Roxy isn’t within his sight when he is eating, but Rigby has never been so comfortable and consistent with his eating. He has always had a nervous/anxious stomach and often passed on a meal or two. The jury’s still out on exactly why, but I have a suspicion that having Roxy eating four feet away didn’t help the situation. Now, he eats with gusto and unmitigated joy. We also took away all treats for the first month. We now will give them treats and “chewies,” but Rigby is always fed first and the “chewies” are given to them in separate rooms, with a baby gate blocking anyone’s desire to steal from the other one. !

Walks: 

Both dogs heel on walks and are generally respectful when doing so, but I typically walk Roxy, and we would walk in front of my husband and Rigby. We changed that, and now we walk behind my husband and Rigby, just to reinforce Roxy that she is NOT the top dog. !

Leaving Them Alone:

They are never allowed to be together when we are not home, ever. Even our dog sitter has to make sure there is at least a doggie gate separating them. If they were to get in a fight when we weren’t there, we might be starting over again - or worse. We won’t take that chance.!

I am happy to say that it only took a few of those flips before Roxy decided controlling and bullying Rigby wasn’t worth it. In fact, she even decided to get up and leave the room when he came into it. She did that for a few days before she was comfortable being in the same room. It may sound harsh, but she was doing the right thing by choosing to remove herself from a situation as opposed to dominating it. She eventually started earning privileges back. We soon started with her on a leash tethered to all the time. Then she just had a leash connected to her for our use if needed, and then was leash-free. Finally, she was allowed to instigate play with Rigby again, though it’s always monitored, because she can get over-stimulated when they play, which could lead to a fight. !

 It took some tough love, but she has decided that being obedient and ignoring what the other dog is doing is a better life for her (and for us). We have set clearer boundaries and she is abiding by them. She slips up once in a while… after all, being bad is so fun! But, for the most part, she is a better dog now that we are clearer with our expectations and quicker with our corrections. We know it’s a process and that we can never let down our guard, and we’ll have to remain vigilant for the rest of her life. But that’s okay; we learned a lot from this as well.

Roxy is the happiest dog I have ever met in my life. She loves with every fiber. Sometimes I think of that story, “Stone Fox” and I worry that this little corgi’s heart will burst from love. And I don’t want it to. I want her here with me forever. As she gets older (and grayer) I try not to think of the time I will have to say goodbye to this little dog that was given up by someone years ago. Their loss.

For me, I have never felt as close to a dog as I do to her. Even when that devilish nature of hers comes out and makes me pull out my hair in frustration, she makes up for it when she lays next to the couch, facing the door, guarding me from any would-be predators. This dog stole our hearts that first day we met her at Beth’s house. I am not sure Rigby would quite put it that way. She probably didn’t steal his heart, but she certainly stole all of his toys. But he seems content with the way it is. We are too.