To slice or not to slice a banana

Recently, I have discovered Zeldie loves bananas. When she hears the snap and tear of the peel which sends the odorous scent of the fruit wafting through the air she propels herself almost involuntarily to my feet. Now, I am a sucker for hungry or hungry-apparent beings. No man, child, dog or dust mite may go unfed in my house. This is a reflex I can not control. It was carefully cultivated by my mother who modeled the art of feeding the hungry to me as the purpose and fulfillment of being a woman. I still remember when I was a teenager and one of my girlfriends came over. As she walked in the house, my mom asked her, "Would you like something to eat?" Having normal and appropriate hunger signals and cues as well as a healthy understanding of diet and nutrition, my friend responded, "No thanks, I'm not hungry." To which my mom replied, "I didn't ask you if you were hungry." David finds this amusing to no end. The first time he met my mother, we went to her house for lunch. Lunch is an understatement. It was a veritable feast. When we were done eating, it looked as if we had not touched a plate on the table. As we were leaving, he whispered to me, "Who did she think she was cooking for?" It was, perhaps, the first time, I was in touch with an awareness that the volume of food on my mother's table was not in proportion to the number of people at the table. It had never been any different in my house. As a teenager, my mother helped make dinner for her family. She had two younger brothers. My mother is still cooking for those teenage boys. And therefore, so do I. When David and I first started dating, we had some friends over for dinner. I made pizza. Everyone ate. Everyone had second helpings. At the end of the meal, after everyone had pushed back from the table, bellies rounded and extended, I examined the two pieces of pizza left on the plate as I carried it back into the kitchen. In an anxious hush, I whispered to David, "I didn't make enough." At the time, I don't think he fully understood that this compelling concern actually bordered on a disorder. Now, time having passed, he has a fuller picture of just how completely I am moved by hunger. This was more fully illustrated to him when we watched The Blind Side. While this is an incredibly inspirational film and story, it is also profoundly sad. But, what moved me to tears was not that he had been abandoned by his mother, not that he was homeless, not even that he was walking in the freezing rain in his t-shirt. What moved me to fretful, unabashedly sobbing was when he ate the discarded concessions after everyone else left the basketball game. What moved me was that he was hungry. With this insight, David now has a better handle on how to manage me. It involves a very assertive, if not forceful, posture on quantity. Especially at the grocery store, where he frequently has to talk me off the ledge after he has put back items I have taken off the shelf. He artfully and sincerely attempts to reassure me that we will have plenty without buying double. Though I am suspicious he has grossly miscalculated our needs, I have learned to trust him. He has plenty of convincing hard evidence by way of previous examples when I have over indulged to support his case. If I make a fuss, he begins to recite the list. Even more so, when we are expecting company for dinner and the list of dishes I am planning grows exponentially in proportion to the amount of time I have prior to the event. In these cases, he listens patiently, smiles gently, and asks a thoughtful reflective question to prompt me to realize I have once again succumbed to my inner hunger demon. For the most part, these strategies work.

Except when it comes to Zeldie. Each of us spoils Zeldie in our own way. For me, it will always be indulging her every sniff with a sensory treat for her palette. Zeldie has discovered this weakness and much to her own credit, will blatantly exploit it for her benefit, rushing to my side seemingly desperately hungry and pitiful when she clearly is neither. To which I will respond appropriately and predictably by cutting my banana into slices and putting it in her bowl. Or, feeding her chunks by hand right where I am standing. David has discovered I am hopeless in this way. He has moved beyond scolding me for giving her too many treats to scolding me for pampering her in the way in which I give her the treats. Though, for the most part it I do not hear it. Reasoning and logic do not apply when seeing her eat her treat momentarily quells the ache in my heart for the hungry or hungry-apparent. Perhaps in that way, it spoils me as well.

Zeldie the Canine Alarm Clock

I read once that dogs do not understand or know time. I would disagree. In July, David went to a conference for work in Miami. At 28 weeks pregnant, I was less than thrilled with the notion of being on my own for four days to fend and manage for myself. Already at that point, I was having back pain and bending over was getting difficult. The exhaustion that has become my constant companion as well as the insufferable heat and humidity we were experiencing at that time made me a bit weary of being able to adequately care for myself, the dog and the household while he was gone. David, unwittingly did not help matters. Saturday night he called me from his hotel. He had been reading on the balcony of his posh hotel, from which he had an unobstructed view of the beach. My husband, being smart and thoughtful was doing a little pleasure reading from Mindset. For those of you who don't know, Mindset is not exactly the latest Dan Brown. It is a book about research on intelligence. In any case, dutiful husband that he is, he called to check in with me. After I rattled off a litany of complaints and annoyances, including my most recent favorite which is that I was feeling like a tub of butter, to which David patiently listened, he preceded to tell me all about a bachelorette party going on in the room next door about which, it occurred to me, he seemed to know a surprising amount. I finally ask him how he knew all of this and he innocently said, "Oh, because they invited me over to have a beer with them." It might have been my silence that was a sharper reply than anything I could have said, but regardless, he quickly followed up with, "I took the beer and came inside my room." Now, any of you who know David well enough understand the irony in that of all of the potential men in the world who could have been roomed next to a bachelorette party in a posh hotel on Miami beach, it was him. And those of you that know my husband well enough are probably the ones reading this blog, so I won't elaborate. And, those of you who know my husband well enough, know me well enough so I am assuming you can also imagine at 28 weeks pregnant, feeling like a tub of butter, my less than receptive response. Whereas at any other time, I would have appreciated the humor in the situation, I myself was not in the particular frame of mind where that was possible. Needless to say, for the rest of the night I was frenzied and worried that I would not be able to get to sleep. So, I broke the one cardinal rule of the household. I let Zeldie sleep in the bed. I figured it was the only way I could coax her at this point to actually stay put and sleep with me. Now Zeldie, always wants to get up on the bed. She puts her little front paws up there and pops her head up. Sometimes she even jumps up there when we are in the living room to retrieve and chew on a discarded piece of clothing. Sometimes we find her toys up there. The top of the bed is her Everest. However, that night, she was downright uncomfortable on the bed. I could tell because of her shallow breathing and twitchy eyes. She was like, "Mommy, I know this isn't allowed and I am afraid Daddy is going to walk into the room at any point and yell at me. You are breaking the rules and I don't like it." So, I let her hop down. She slept on the floor by my side for I am not sure how long because I eventually fell asleep. In the morning, I found her on the big chair in the living room. She has been sleeping there ever since. I still remember when she was a littler puppy and we tried to let her sleep outside of the crate. It was, by all accounts, a disaster. Having little to no self-regulation, our dog did not know what to do with herself in vast and cavernous expanse of our 850 square foot condo, especially at 3 AM when she was awake and were were asleep and any and all manner of disruption would not wake us. So, instead she would find more destructive hobbies to occupy her time and relieve her boredom and anxiety. Now, although, she had a slight learning curve at first, she pretty much wanders in like clockwork at the same time every morning to wake us up and get us started. It took her a couple of tries to get her internal timing mechanism set properly. But now, we can pretty much count on her to be about as consistent 7 days a week as the full moon is every 30 days. Zeldie is our very own canine alarm clock.

No, Mommy!

I have always had trouble sleeping. However, throughout the pregnancy, I have had even more. One particularly distressing night a few weeks ago, I woke up at 1:30 AM and never fell back to sleep. Early on in the pregnancy, I would cuddle with Zeldie on the couch. This would put me right to sleep. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but Zeldie's pleasant biorhythms are hypnotic to me. Whereas David's breathing sounds like a hurricane raging in my ear, Zeldie's regular soft breaths are like a gentle breeze. Whereas David's 200+ some odd body takes up half the bed, Zeldie's petite little 32 pounds tucks and curls into me like a pillow. Whereas David's twitches startle me as I fall asleep, Zeldie's regular heart beat lulls me effortlessly into unconsciousness. It used to be she would stand up, wag her tail and wait for me by the crate door. In the morning, when David would wake up to take her out, he would have to persuade her to get off the couch. However recently, she has not been so agreeable. In fact, she has seemed downright displaced. The past few sleepless nights, she has been at the back of the crate and I have had to pull her out of it. She jumps off of the couch after we lay down causing me to retrieve her so we can settle back down again together. And perhaps the most telling of all, when I wake up in the morning, she is laying on the floor, somewhere else in the room, as far away from the couch as possible. I imagine this is her way of saying, "No, mommy! I am a big girl now, too big to cuddle with you." At 14 mos. old, that strikes me as a bit sad but also inevitable. I suppose when you depend on your puppy as your Ambien, at some point she will make it clear she is an independent being and it is an inappropriate responsibility. I guess the only thing for a Mommy to do at that point is to take some Benadryl, get a Homemedics SoundSpa and buy a few more pillows.

A Sophisticated Palate

Our dog is a picky eater. Or so we have thought. When Zeldie came to us, the breeder sent her with a ziplock baggie size supply of food. This was the source of much consternation for me because the vet had said not to change her diet for at least 2 weeks. Instead, we had to start mixing her food immediately. We originally started her on Science Diet Puppy formula. Initially, our plan was to feed her that until she turned a year and then start her on something less expensive. Soon though, her skin became dry and itchy. She would scratch at her skin until her hair fell out and it would bleed and scab over. She apparently could not tolerate the grain and by-products used in most commercial dog foods. It took us some time to figure this out. Sometime during September, at least 3 mos. after she arrived, we learned about food allergies for dogs. It didn't take long for us to put two and two together to determine Zeldie had food allergies. We did some reading and decided that we needed to switch her to a more allergy and wire-haired coat friendly fish based food. We decided on Halo Spot's Stew Salmon formula. After all of the reading we had done, we were very excited about this formula. Zeldie was not so much so but we didn't notice. We proudly served her the food. We watched as she sniffed at it indecisively and reluctantly nibbled a few bites. We were satisfied. We kept giving it to her. Even though she rarely ate a full bowl. Even though when we gave it to her she would turn over her bowl. Even though when we left it in her crate she would bury it with her blanket. Even though when we went to our friend's house, we couldn't keep her away from the Pedigree. Even though, by the time we got to the bottom of the bag, she would snub it all together. We thought, "Our dog is so quirky. Look at how funny she is turning over her bowl." And, "Our dog is such a picky eater, she doesn't like stale food." We thought, "Our dog is so thin, it must be because she gets so much exercise at doggie day care." If Zeldie has thoughts they were probably somewhere along the lines of, "Idiots! In what other way can I tell them how much I hate this food." This past week, David went to buy the Halo and they were out of it. Flat out of it. And we were out of it. Flat out of it. So, under duress, he picked up a bag of the Wellness Ocean formula which is a whitefish based dry dog food. We fed it to our picky eater hoping for the best. And surprise of all surprises, she ate the whole bowl all at once as fast as she could, like any other dog I have ever known. We stood there in awe watching her eat. She must have been famished after having been starved for a year. She has been eating the Wellness for a few days now and she has finished every last bite of every last bowl. Every time I see the shiny bottom of the dog bowl, I have to admit, I am simultaneously fascinated and overjoyed. If she could have only told us she preferred whitefish to salmon, perhaps she wouldn't have had to wait so long for us to catch on.

Balloon vs. Zeldie

We finally found out what scares our "daredevil" of a dog--helium balloons. The Irish Terriers are known to be fairly fearless, earning the nickname daredevil (seriously, look it up). Most things her curiosity gets the best of her and she wants to really explore whatever it is. However, after David's 30th birthday party last night at Dogfish Head Alehouse, we brought home a few balloons. When she saw them, she went from lightly growling, to pawing at the carpet to backing up and putting her head down. Maybe she thought they were floating heads or something, but we wish we got her behavior on camera because the balloons were not even moving, just floating there.

Conjunctivitis for Dogs

One day we came home from work and noticed Zeldie was squinting like she couldn't see. Her eyes were all red and looked bloodshot. She also had some discharge running out of her eyes. This being new to both of us, we did what any couple would do, we googled it. Of course, the first thing that came up was a page on Red Eye for dogs which seemed to fit her symptoms perfectly. The problem was that Red Eye for dogs is the equivalent of pink eye for people and the side effects include possible blindness. This sent at least one of us into a tizzy. We held her out of doggie day care and took her to the vet first thing in the morning the next day. As it turned out, Zeldie did not have Red Eye for dogs. Zeldie had allergies. And now, we give her eye drops to alleviate the aggravation it itchy, puffy, red eyes. It seems like we have crossed a threshold into the absurd when your day consists of giving eye drops to a dog and this is a more tolerable notion than allowing her to rub her eyes with a paw.

Zeldie by the Numbers

We have now had Zeldie 1 year. we went to pick Zeldie up from the airport 365 days ago. Since we have had her, she has been in 3 dog training classes. She has had 2 different dog walkers. She has been kenneled 4 times. She has traveled by car to NY 2 times. She has traveled by car to NC 2 times. She has stayed in a hotel 2 times. She has met 4 other Irish Terriers. She is 32 pounds. She eats 2 cups of food a day, sometimes. She has swallowed 1 nylon knee high and 1 plastic bottle cap. She has stolen 1 set of diamond rings, but did not swallow them. She has eaten 1 pair of glasses. She has 2 allergies of which we know. She has had 2 prescription medications. All in all, it has been a good year. She has 115 days before she is no longer the baby of the house. We don't think she has any idea what is coming.