A Dog’s Life

Friends of Kid Dynamite and regular readers of this blog will know that Mrs. Dynamite and I are, admittedly, Crazy Dog People.  We love our dogs like they were our children (in a way, they are, at the moment), and make them the center of our lives.   We joke that we quit our jobs to spend more time with Oscar,  but it’s only half-joking.  We joke that we bought this house with a big yard on a low traffic street for Oscar, but it’s only half-joking.

Oscar

Oscar

Since moving up here, we fostered and then adopted Mr. Griffey, a little psycho sidekick for Oscar.   Regular readers also know that we make weekly therapy dog visits to a local nursing home with both Oscar – a registered Therapy Dog – and Mr. Griffey, who has been totally changed by the process.

Mr. Griffey

Mr. Griffey

While Mr. G was previously scared of humanity (with the exception of Mrs. Dynamite – he loves her like she was his own mother), visiting people at the nursing home has brought about an amazing transformation which now sees him eagerly approach the residents and sit next to them to accept treats and get petted.

After “failing” fostering with Mr. Griffey (because we didn’t place him with another home – we kept him instead), we fostered Benny last may.   Benny had a rough start, but was a tremendous sport the entire time, and we bonded with him in a major way.

Benny

Benny

He is a total character, and we admittedly probably would have adopted him as well, except for the fact that Griffey hated him with a passion.   They fought like gangbusters multiple times a week, and we decided that if the right family came along, we’d have to let Benny go live a life where he wasn’t being terrorized by a psychotic little dog half his size.  Well this past week, Benny finally got adopted by a terrific family with a stay-at-home mom, a part-time-home dad, and two kids who are going to spoil him rotten with food, attention and love.  While it was hard for us to let Benny go, the angst was eased by the expectation that he will be in very good hands.

Anyway, this is all background to explain that we love our dogs and we share everything with them.  After Oscar and Griffey’s bowls are dirty, they eat off of the same plates we do.   We still give them kisses, even though they like to eat their own poop.   But tonight, I had to draw the line.

Mrs. Dynamite was informed by our vet that if she’s worried about Oscar not feeling well, she can take his temperature.   Rectally, of course, as you can’t tell the dog to keep the thermometer under his tongue for 2 minutes.   We haven’t done this at home yet, and needless to say, Oscar does not like to be “violated” with the thermometer.  He does his Scooby Doo impression when the vet takes his temperature.  So Mrs. Dynamite and I use one of those cheap digital thermometers that you stuck under your tongue.

Well, Mrs. Dynamite does some research and reports back:

“Good news – those thermometers can be used orally or rectally.”

me: “Ummm – what?”

her: “We can use that thermometer on Oscar too.”

me: staring at her in silence

her: “I should buy another thermometer for Oscar…”

me, emphatically: “I’m not sharing my oral thermometer with Oscar’s ass.  Sorry.  That’s where I draw the line.”

then:

me: “I need to go write a blog post about this.”

since I hadn’t written anything in a while, anyway…

So that’s the nexus of this post, dear readers.  I simply wanted to explain to you that my limit for my love of my dog is my unwillingness to share my oral thermometer with his rectal thermometer needs.

that is all.

-KD

related: Kid Dynamite posts with “Oscar” in them

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