Unlike a lot of dogs I've had the pleasure of knowing, Skippy is pretty low maintenance when it comes to issues. My main worry for him is that he refuses to eat. People keep saying he should put on some weight, but honestly, I don't think he's too thin. I've seen worse. I think Mickey was more underweight that Skippy is.
In an effort to persuade Skippy to eat, I put some kibble in the Kong, and he seemed to take to it, but only for one meal. The novelty wore off quickly. Then, just for fun Sunday night I pretended each piece was a treat and tried to get him to catch the pieces in his mouth. He didn't catch them in mid-air, but he did pick them up once they landed and ate them. The pieces are rather small, and although my days aren't booked up with appointments, I really didn't feel like spending an hour feeding him one piece at a time. So when I started giving him a few pieces at a time by hand and he took them, I got the feeling he was playing me.
The past few days have consisted of him eating maybe a bite or two, and then leaving the rest in the bowl until about 9pm when he figures out there's no other choice and he sucks it up and eats it. I even gave him a different kind of dry dog food, and he liked that when I gave it to him one piece at a time, but not out of the bowl. Little Edie might have been spoiled, but I'm getting a stronger vibe that the Skipper here was even more spoiled.
I had brought some food to the boarding place yesterday and told the woman that he could have some, but I doubt he'd eat it. She asked if I had tried mixing wet dog food with it. I told her no, that I had a feeling this pup might have been used to roasted chicken and rice. Christy actually offered to give me a chicken breast to give him, but while he was in boarding, I picked up a couple of wet food containers, thinking if was probably cheaper.
He had spent the day in the kennel, not eaten before we left, not eaten during the day, and still refused his dinner by evening. At 9pm he got up off the couch and sulked over to the food bowl, eating one piece of kibble at a time with a miserable look on his face. Had he been a four year old toddler, he would have dramatically gagged upon each swallow to demonstrate just how awful the food was. He gave up after a couple of bites and came back to sulk next to me.
So I caved in and opened up the meat flavored wet dog food and dumped it in his bowl. It got his attention, that's for sure. It also got mine. Man that stuff smells awful. And looks a lot like it's already been eaten. Terribly gross. But after mushing it around the dry food and popping it in the microwave for a few seconds (I heard somewhere that heating food might make it more appetizing to dogs), I set it down and that boy went to town on it.
I hadn't even settled back down on the couch when I heard the sound of the bowl being slid across the kitchen floor. I got back up and found him holding down the bowl with a paw, trying to get every single molecule of deliciousness off it with his long tongue, while it was jammed up against the cabinets.
"You like?" The words came out of my mouth before I realized what a dumb question it was.
He whipped his head around quickly as if there was simply no time to acknowledge my presence, and went back to the bowl. I took it away for fear he might eat the plastic.
It was probably only ¾ of a cup of dry dog food and a little wet food, which was the Cesar brand (for little dogs). It was 9pm, but this was the most he'd eaten in days. I considered it, weighed my options, and decided to give him some more.
The combo of the wet and dry food worked wonders. Licked clean in a matter of minutes again, I was pleased, but wondered what sort of consequences his intestines and my olfactory nerves would suffer tonight. I had to suck it up though--he needed nutrition.
I waited until 11:45 to take him out. I don't know how quickly dogs digest, but I really didn't want him to need to go out at 3am with diarrhea. I assume the wet food comes out the back end looking pretty similar to what it appears to be on the way in. But I could be wrong. I can tell you that the smell is distinctly similar.
I need to note here that Skippy has a strange pooping habit. I know this seems odd to talk to about, but on every transport, the topic of eating and defecation come up. Supposedly it tells us how the dog is feeling, or at least how his body is handling the stress. Skip didn't have diarrhea, but he is the oddest pooper I've ever taken for a walk. Every dog has a style; a peeing style and a pooping style. Some dogs only pee on grass, some only on concrete, some uphill, some in weeds. They also have pooping standards. Some dogs need to track scents for a good hour before finally finding that perfect spot.
Maybe it's because Skip was neutered as a pup that he doesn't have any tendency to mark like Mickey did. He reads the writing on the wall, I assure you, but he doesn't contemplate adding his own thoughts. He just sniffs and moves on. And it doesn't appear that it sways him one way or another to take a piss there.
Anyone who has taken dogs for walks for a good amount of time can read when their dog is just about to take a dump. There's a change in the sniffing and searching. They get a wider stance when walking, they sniff a little closer, they slow up, start to circle maybe. There's just some moment that their body language let's you know to get the poop bag ready.
But Skip is some sort of Ninja Pooper. He's a surprise dumper. We can be walking along at a good trot, walk-walk-walk-then SQUAT & DUMP-walk-walk-walk. I practically tripped over him in a driveway the first time he did it. We had been walking at a good clip when he stopped suddenly, squatted, and took a dump. He would have kept going had I not had to pick it up. I thought maybe this was a one time thing; that he just really had to go all of a sudden. But when he had a repeat performance the next night, I concluded this was just his style.
He didn't have diarrhea until this morning, but I paid the price all night as his farts wafted up to my end of the bed. In fact I'm still paying the price. His farting style is much like his pooping style: like an assassin striking when you least expect it; it make no sound, gives you no warning, and assaults you with a quick and deadly force.
But at least he ate, right?
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