Melvin is on prednisone (and has been since long before I got him) for his allergies. It’s a low dose but he has the common side effects of increased thirst and subsequent urges to pee. There are no shortage of bathroom breaks for him and he rarely has to ask to go out, but if he does have to remind me he just sits in front of me and puts a paw on me and off we go. He does the same on nights when he has ‘massive stomach upset’, he stands above me on my bed and puts a paw on me. The point being, we have proven communication for bathroom breaks. I have never failed him.

Yesterday Melvin went out at 9am and then again at 11am. Just before 2pm Melvin was laying down, got up, walked in front of me (I was sitting on couch and there was an ottoman between us) and he pee’d. Inside, on the carpet, directly in front of me. I was in shock (as was he at the scream that came out of me). I seriously liken this event to any of you walking into my house and peeing on my carpet. There was no indication from him of any sort that he needed to go out and he has never gone in the house before. It wasn’t a crime of him marking territory, this was a full fledge bathroom break.

Maybe this was his way of thanking me for his new tail. That’s all I’ve got, I may call CSI cause this one is a mystery.

Update on the nubbin… Bandage is off (finally!) but he still has stitches and currently it is a tad-less-than-cute (thus the title reference to Frankenstein). He’s definitely working the wiggle and I love that he has been damage free for few weeks now. I realized how many restrictions there were surrounding his movements (trying to avoid his tail hitting anything and attempting oh so desperately to keep every bandage on). Back are the care free romps through the house as he spins with excitement and wags his nub! A few more days and the stitches come out. A few more weeks and his hair will grow back. Luckily, the love stays the same!

Let me know if there is any confusion about why I have to put a towel down when I eat an apple near Melvin. (Sorry about the crunching noises but the louder you are, the more he drools).

No matter how hard I’ve tried to dissuade him, Melvin loves to eat acorns. Oddly enough, acorns never seem to leave his body in a reasonable timeframe. I have told the vet on several occasions that I think Melvin has a secret hiding spot deep within his stomach. Every six weeks or so he will throw-up sludge (the perfect mix of acorns and grass). I am quite certain this sludge comes from that oh-so-secret spot inside his belly. This is one of my least favorite of Melvin’s quirks.

One early morning a year or so ago, I was awoken to a horrible sound coming from Melvin. It was a violent gagging noise and when I turned on the lights I saw his body flailing around. He was clearly unable to breathe. There was nothing instinctual about my actions, I flew blindly into the moment. I reached inside his mouth, down his throat and pulled on whatever it was I was feeling, for all I knew at that moment I could have been tugging on a vital organ. I pulled out a huge clump of sludge (and he subsequently threw the rest of it up). My heart was pounding, I had no clue what had happened and Melvin was laying there rather listless. We rushed to the vet.

Melvin had choked. In the process he aspirated some sludge into one of his lung lobes and was under observation to figure out if the lobe would need to be removed (apparently dogs have 4 or 5 lung lobes so it was not so much of an issue but at first I did have visions of him dragging an oxygen tank around). They were also concerned about how long he may have been without oxygen. The biggest issue there would be an effect on his short-term memory ability but since short-term memory was never his strong suit, I was not too worried. In the end it all turned out fine.

A great part about our new home is that we no longer live the in the land of 30-year old oak trees. I have not seen one acorn (or squirrel for that matter) in the two months we’ve been here, thus zero sludge!