The Fountain of Youth

Grady has discovered the fountain of youth. Which is really a Pioneer pet fountain. Big Max, to be exact.

How do I know this, you ask. Because Grady went to the vet last week. The vet, being a man of wisdom and not inconsiderable experience, looked at the white creeping up over the doggy noggin and said “How old is he now?” Well, we don’t know for sure because when the unknown scum tossed him out on the streets to starve, there was no note attached. You know, “This is my baby, I can’t keep him anymore. He’s 10 years old and will eat anything.” All Grady had when he was taken in by Animal Control, was a matted coat, ribs sticking out, and eyes that could no longer see. It was *thought* he might be ten. And that being two years ago, my superior math skills tell me that he *might* now be twelve. And might not. Ten at least, that’s what we settled on.

Grady was there because his right eye, still beautiful even without sight, has become more opaque of late. He also has cataracts, so it behooves Mama to keep a close eye on changes like this. The vet agreed. Then he tried to examine Grady. And that’s where it started.

On the first attempt, Grady dove under the vet’s arm and pretty much down the front of his V-neck surgical top. After we extracted and lectured him, he sat back calmly with that alert, “I’m on board with you” expression which can only mean disaster. Let’s just say the vet got a real good look in his ear, and could verify that no, Grady no longer had any testicles.

I’ve never played Twister with a dog before. It’s rather like doing yoga with an octopus hyped up on speed. Only I was never quite sure whether on the next WWF move, I would end up face to face with Grady or lying on the floor being told to “sit, stay!”

As the examination progressed, the vet’s assessment of Grady’s age started to drop. After Round 1, he posited that for an old dog, he was in pretty darn good shape. He didn’t have enough breath for any more comments until after Round 4 when I heard him mutter that he’d known young dogs that weren’t that flexible. By the time we were on the home stretch, he announced that ten week old puppies weren’t that lively. The muffled giggles and snorts coming from the other side of the examining room door where his wife sat at the desk went unremarked.

We left with the good news that there is nothing seriously wrong with his eye. And also that the vet could get an early appointment with his chiropractor.

I don't always

Master of the house

Happiness is Grady on a roll, to music that is amazingly appropriate.

Happy Gotcha Day

What is two years, besides 24 months, 730 days, and eight seasons? Well, in our case, it meant the following:

-Grady produced 4,821 gallons of pee. Never mind the alchemy of creating gold, I’d be rich if I could have converted all that to gas, given the price.

-He stole part of, if not the entire menu of at least 730 meals not meant for him. His diet consisted of cheese sandwiches, frozen pizza pockets, an entire loaf of Italian bread, all the dried bread to stuff a 16 lb. turkey, and half a large bowl of mashed potatoes, while wearing a Comfy Cone. You could also load at least two cargo ships full of the bananas he has eaten, skins and all. The grocery clerks are used to me buying twice what I really need, so I at least get some of them.

-The destruction of 127 squeaky toys, some in record time, like the mini football that lasted only two small town blocks from one parking lot to the next.

-Answering a thousand questions about why I would want a blind dog. Some of them were even intelligent.

-Convincing a thousand people that he really is blind.

-Trying not to vaporize people with “the look” after they suggested I either board him or give him away when I had knee replacement surgery.

-Watching Grady mistake cats for live squeaky toys, then watching them play. And play and play and play.

-Waiting in the drive-thru line at Tim Horton’s for two plain timbits, and trying to convince him there was only one in the bag. Then buying a whole box to freeze in the winter when we couldn’t get to town.

-Learning how to adjust my heart rate downwards when he leaps up to bark at nothing. At 2am. Granted, his hearing is more acute because he is blind, but he takes it as a personal affront every time a mosquito farts. Ten miles away.

-Learning that expression is not just in the eyes, but in the heart and soul. Even for a dog.

-Discovering that security for an abandoned, hungry dog can be something as simple as a cold nose in the face at 4am, so he can lie down again and know that you haven’t left.

-Endless laughter. Every day, no matter how bleak, how busy, or what stresses it brought, he has made me laugh. Whether it’s his goofy expressions, his apocalyptic attacks on squeaky toys, or the oh so smooth and subtle attempts to purloin my dinner, you can’t help but smile. And he knows it.

So Happy Gotcha Day, Grady. And thank you Sally Lennox of GRR-CNY and Betsy Sommers of Peppertree.org for taking a chance on Grady. And on me.

gotcha day


We have been honoured by two of our blogging community friends, with the Leibster Award from Dog Tails Blog and The Sunshine Award from Sheba’s Life Story. Grady was so excited he climbed up a snowbank and fell down while having a pee, resulting in writing his name in what appears to be Greek letters.

Both awards ask that we pass on the love to other blogs, and respond to ten questions. Well, we thought you would get pretty bored reading all that stuff about Grady’s staff, so we’ve combined the two lists and tweaked some, and we hope that our nominees will answer them too, or create some fun facts of their own that tells others about their blogs.

Here are Grady’s responses:

What do you feel dogs never get credit for?
Our role in the things that have benefitted mankind. Take penicillin for instance. That bread never would have molded if they hadn’t been trying to hide it from the dog, and put it under the sink where the tap leaked.

What is your favourite quote?
Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog, it’s too dark to read. – Groucho Marx

Write a short poem using the words catastrophe and bread
The Rottweiler was a big oaf, see
In the bread throwing contest a loaf he
Did finally send
Way around the far bend
For which he won a Cat Ass Trophy.

What would be the name of your much anticipated autobiography?
50 Shades of Grady

What was your first toy?
A cat named “Precious”. She was delicious, but I had to spit her out.

If you could have chosen your own name, what would it be?
Sir Oliver Lawrence David Farquahr-Addington, Royal Taster. Or Sir OLD FART.

What is the most important thing about you that people need to know?
I may be blind, but sight is the only thing I don’t have. I’m smart, funny, handsome, adorable, and lots of other good things. Okay, well maybe I don’t have any manners. Or idea of obedience.

What is your pet peeve?
That food is kept in cupboards. And bins. And cans that can’t be chewed open.

What is your greatest skill?
Stealing food. I’m like a kleptoanythingediblemaniac.

If you weren’t a dog, what would you want to be?
A Tim Horton’s doughnut delivery truck. Then I’d always be full of Timbits.

We pass these honours along to the following blogs who we love for the unique style and content:

And Foster Makes Five

The Adventures of Misaki

The Chronicles of Wallace and Samuel

The Blessing of Animal Companions

Wayward Dogs

Growl Tiger & Company

Adventures of a Dog Mom

Mollie and Alfie

Let it go!

Out of the nightmare of yesterday’s storm comes Grady’s “cover” of the hit song “Let It Go” from the movie, “Frozen”. Sorry, there is no audio but he is looking for a producer to let him record it. For those not familiar with the tune, we include a link below that you can bring up beside the lyrics.

pee 1

The snow glows white in the yard tonight, waiting for my hello
Pristine clean across the yard, not a single drop of yellow
I tried howling, like the swirling storm outside,
Can’t hold it in, doG knows I tried.
I’ve crossed my legs both front and back
I think my vision’s going black
For rhymes, sometimes I think I’m cursedddddd
My bladder is going to bursttttttt

Let it go, let it go
That’s just the way it is
Let it go, let it go
When a dog has got to whiz
I don’t care what leash you use
Let the stream flow on
Or next time it’ll be your leather shoes

It’s funny how some people
Think dogs can hold it half the night
Until you get in front of them and block the tv’s light
I tried barking that was a loss
Time to show them who is the boss
No wait, let’s go, I’m breaking free
I have got to peeeeeeeee

Let it go, let it go
Take a swan dive off the front stoop
Let it go, let it go,
I also have to poop
Here I sniff and here I’ll squat
The relief is great….

They’re higher beings but I hold the upper paw
When I need to go she gets up because that’s Grady’s law
She hurries to get back inside, but that’s not my goal
To annoy the hell out of her, I just stop and roll

Let it go, let it go,
A guy’s got to empty his tank
Let it go, let it go,
Write my name on a snowbank
Here I stand, all night and day

While she swears on and on
But that never bothered me anyway.

Have you ever wanted to get even so bad you could almost …taste it? So bad that it preyed on your mind night and day, so that as you’re drifting off to sleep you jerk awake again because it occurred to you that it might be possible, if….

Not out of spite, mind you. I mean the kind of revenge that is an absolute necessity, the sole purpose to your life, the pinnacle of your career as an evil being, simply because you want to get back at…whoever.

Well, ever since I got Grady, literally from the start, I have fantasized about getting even with him for stealing my lunch, dinner and often, bedtime snacks. At times the urge has been so strong that my attention would be diverted, something I found to be unwise when using a lawn tractor to mow under low hanging tree branches.

And then…like a gift from heaven, it happened. Revenge dropped right into my lap. Or more accurately, onto the floor. You see, in my fourth round with Old Man Winter in six days, I fell while shovelling and did something complicated and unspellable to my left arm and hand. It means sometimes it works, and lots of time it doesn’t. I drop stuff. And I swear.

Yesterday, I dropped a whole bag of Pro Plan biscuits for small dogs. Aha, you say! Bet Grady was right on those. But alas, Grady was in the cone of shame, from the worst hot spot he’s had. (I digress here to thank Comfy Cone for a collar that is bearable for a blind dog.)

And so all he could do was look. And look confused. Then excited, then annoyed, then frustrated. You get the idea. And me? I laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed. Then I posted it on Facebook and laughed some more while all my friends told me what a mean dog mom I was. Which made me laugh again.

I had my revenge, and nobody was going to make me feel bad about it. Except Grady. I was making a new recipe for potato puffs that required cups of mashed potatoes. I had to go downstairs so I left the bowl of mashed potatoes on the cupboard. After all, he’s in the cone, isn’t he?

When I came back upstairs and resumed all the culinary preparation I discovered the bowl was half empty. Now…who could have done that? Brandy? Not likely. She’s not much higher than a potato. The cats? They’d turn up their noses unless there was cheese in it. So employing all those detecting skills I acquired while writing mystery stories, I sleuthed all the way around the counter and found the culprit. It was Grady.

And how did I know that you ask. Because despite the cone, he was the only one in the house with mashed potatoes on his nose.

who me

Who me?

Believe it or not, there are people who just don’t understand why you would want to adopt a blind dog. So instead of explaining it over and over, I decided to put together a list of pros and cons.

PROS: You can make all kinds of faces at them, stick out your tongue, wiggle your ears, and they’ll gaze at you intently, like you’re giving an address to the United Nations.
CONS: Unfortunately, you’ll also find yourself giving them hand signals they can’t see. And they’ll look at you like you’re some kind of stupid, so you give them a cookie.

PROS: They are great advance warning systems. Relatives, neighbors, religious solicitors…they hear them coming before the turn signal comes on for your driveway.
CONS: They can also hear a gnat with flatulence who “vents” in his burrow under a mountain, ten miles away. So to get them to shut up, you give them a cookie.

PROS: When you realize that the only way your job will get better is if you die or quit, they will come to where you’re sitting in your office chair, eating everything not nailed down, and tuck their head into your chest.
CONS: The warm fuzzy moment only lasts until they realize that you did not drop anything on your shirtfront, at which time they will give you a very cold, calculating stare, despite being blind. So you go and get them a cookie.

PROS: They can’t see you naked.
CONS: But they can make you feel like they can. So you toss a cookie into another room to make them leave.

PROS: They aren’t constantly barking at things the car passes by as you drive.
CONS: You can’t get within 5 miles of Tim Horton’s because they can smell the doughnuts. That’s why you carry cookies in the ash tray – to toss one in the back so they’ll let you keep driving.

PROS: Quite often, people will not believe they are disabled.
CONS: Quite often, they won’t believe those people don’t have cookies hidden in their bodily orifices.

PROS: As a handicapped dog, your vet clinic always has time for them.
CONS: And the first thing they say when you arrive is that it’s time to cut back on the cookies.

yes me

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