That Was Me - Sorry

I don't know about you, but I find habits of my dog that resemble those of my own to be really funny. What makes it even funnier is the way that he reacts to my reaction.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist (or in this case, a doctor/veterinarian) to tell you that the canine anatomy is very different from that of homo sapiens. But there are obviously many overlapping characteristics to be shared, most likely all derived from both of our species falling under the mammal classification. Undoubtedly, we share similar physiology in the digestive systems and resulting bodily functions - yes, I'm talking about farts.

Flatulence is unpleasant... unless it came from yourself (those tend to be "acceptable"). Apparently my dog agrees. I've observed him give me a "was that you?" look before excusing himself from his spot if he's within one of my more potent bomb's proximity. When I'm on the receiving end of his silent but deadly detonations, he's likely wearing a "oh, I didn't think you'd notice" expression when I accuse/ask him if he was guilty. I've even seen him change places on my bed to get away from his own gas eruption.

Who would've ever thought that repugnant dog farts would be so entertaining?

Everyone Poops (I Poop Twice)

Animals - particularly dogs - use their bodily waste as unique identifiers for a number of different purposes (such as marking their territory). Usually they use their urine and I would assume that's because they have a bit more of that stuff to allocate at their discretion.

Apollo hasn't ever been much of a territory control kind of dog. Perhaps our indoor lifestyle has led to further domestication and removed that primal aspect from his instincts. When we're out walking in new areas or around the neighborhood, he's not one to stop at every tree, bush, or fire hydrant to tag it with his pee. He'll stop and sniff, but doesn't care to contribute.

However, he seems to feel the need to completely empty his bowels of feces on our extended outings. Apollo will pee once (maybe twice) but squat and poops two or three (sometimes more) times! Even during our daily bathroom routine - I know he's not done until he's given birth to brown babies at least twice in two different spots. I wonder if he uses his poop to mark his territory...

The Sock Bandit

Apollo - like all dogs - went through his destructive phase when he was a young puppy. I had figure out a way to withstand his chewing habits and minimize the financial hole that he was gnawing in my wallet.

Squeaky chew toys went right out the window as an option. They lasted about as long as the time it takes to microwave your TV dinner. Within minutes, the squeaks would be completely extinguished and bits of plastic, fur, or stuffing would be all that's left of a massacred animal. I had to find something else (and quickly) as anything that had either a soft or fuzzy quality all of a sudden had a shelf-life in my house.

One day as I was sorting my dirty laundry with Apollo watching intently, I dropped a sock on the floor. "A new toy!" I saw in his eyes... as he quickly scooped it up and ran off with his prize to evaluate closer on the other side of the room (away from poachers who might want to steal it back) before deciding to shred it into a hundred pieces. I didn't think much of it and decided not to attempt recovering it, as that sock had a small hole and was ready to be retired anyways. It suddenly dawned on me that this was exactly what I was looking for.

In additional to providing comfort for your feet, I came to realize that socks (especially worn and dirty ones) was one of Apollo's favorite things to play with. There were so many uses: we played fetch using them, stuffed them with treats and toys, I used it as a glove when he plays play-biting with me. And to this day he still loves the freshly worn, stinky ones that he steals right off my feet.

The way he runs away with a sock in his mouth, prancing around the room... reminds me that he will always be my little sock bandit.

Trampled and Headbutted

Certain breeds have a mis-matched temperament with their physical size. When you pair a large, heavy, powerful body with the curiosity and energy of a puppy - it has a high probability of the situation ending with destruction or injury. But even smaller bodies can cause pain if they catch you off guard.

Apollo and I find ourselves nearly attached at the hip when we're at home. Whether it is on the couch, floor, or my bed... we he doesn't have a great sense of personal space and is frequently "all up in my business." I've pretty much accepted the fact that my dog will scale my body like a mountain if he so chooses. That means walking all over me to get to his sweet spot on the couch or climbing onto my chest in order to get a taste of whatever it was that I just ate. And when a 20-something pound body lands or steps on "undesirable/sensitive" body parts - you can bet I'm uttering "oooof" or "owwww" in pain.

Another unexpected weapon Apollo wields is his noggin. Yes, he's a bright dog - but I'm not referring to his smarts. I'm talking about his cranium, his skull. That thing is as deadly as any other blunt object and I've caught it on my chin and mouth several times. I've bitten the inside of my mouth and even cut my lip a time or two from him suddenly/unexpectedly whipping his head upwards with my face in striking proximity.

Catching that headbutt feels like getting upper-cutted.

Hair Dry Me

Apollo doesn't like baths, we've established that fact. But I should be more specific and say that he doesn't like the water-related portion of the bath process. He actually puts up with enjoys and takes pleasure drying off.

You'd think it's obvious that anyone would be happy with finishing/ending any activity that was displeasurable but in this case, Apollo would probably enjoy the routine even by itself. What I'm talking about is everything that takes place after he's allowed to get out of the tub. I typically have towels prepped and spread out on the floor in anticipation of this wet creature who proceeds to stop-drop-and-roll (minus the stop part). I usually give him a good pat down to soak up the excess water before pulling out one of his favorite devices: the hair dryer.

I'm positive his fondness of the hair dryer stems from the months in which my mom looked after him during his early years. She had to routinely/regularly blow dry her hair and Apollo was never too far away while it happened. My mom soon realized that Apollo not only got used to the noise but was also quite addicted to the warm breeze. She would typically give him a few extra seconds at the end of her routine.

And so as I attempt to be efficient and employ the hair dryer on him - Apollo seems to look forward to the warm and buzzing heat waves at the end of his baths. Gone are all traces of anxiety of being drenched with soapy water. Rather, he's typically got a look of satisfaction on his face as if to say, "You can keep going, I don't mind this part."

Couch Buddies

Apollo doesn't watch TV. He may occasionally react to certain sounds (such as dogs barking, squeaky toys, etc.) but that's about the extent of his interaction with any form of digital entertainment. However I'd like to think that when he sees me plop down on the couch in front of the TV, it's time for us to hang out.

My dog wasn't always allowed on the couch. When I first bought my nice microfiber two-piece sectional couch, he was denied access. It was my mom (from henceforth known as "Grandma" as that's how I refer to her in front of Apollo) that came to his rescue when she heard that I stipulated this house rule. She bought a nice blanket that served to cover roughly 50% of the couch in order to appease me and nullify my argument that Apollo would dirty/damage the couch if he were allowed on.

It's inevitable. Within 30-90 seconds of me sitting down on the couch (95% of the time followed immediately with the TV set turning on) Apollo will be right next to me. It doesn't matter if he was sound asleep in his dog bed (about 20 feet away) or all the way down the hall in my bedroom - he'll show up right on cue each time. Apparently sitting on the couch is a two-person activity, and I'm not allowed to do it alone.

I guess it's kind of our thing (one of many).

Sleep Wagging

I've always been incredibly fascinated by my own dreams and am very much grateful that our brains are able to have such complex neuro-activity while our bodies are shut down and resting. But many studies have shown that we (humans) are not the only mammals on this planet capable of experiencing these phenomenons. Dogs are just as capable of having dreams as we are and I'm just as (if not more) interested in Apollo's dreams than my own.

I'm usually made aware of my dog's dreams (no, he does not come tell me about the weird adventure he just had in his dream after he wakes up) when I hear him whimpering in his sleep. I'll hear sounds emanating from his bed below my work desk or from under my blankets in the middle of the night. There's no way to know for sure they are sad/scared wimpers... perhaps that's the canine version of talking in their sleep? In any case, I usually talk to him and stroke him until he calms down or wakes up. I'd like to think that hearing my familiar voice in his dream would give him a sense of comfort.

I've seen YouTube videos of dogs growling in their sleep but I've never observed Apollo acting that way, at least not when his eyes are closed in slumber. The only other dream-induced behavior from my dog that I've ever seen is my favorite one: the sleep-tail-wagging. Out of nowhere I would occasionally hear a "tap-tap-tap-tap" of Apollo's tail thumping against my/his bed. When I look down, all I see is a dog deep asleep...

I'd like to assume he is happily begging for food (from me) or chasing other dogs in his dream world.

Not Scary But Annoying

I raised Apollo to be a brave dog. Well, I've conditioned him to become familiar with quite a few of the things that dogs are typically perceived as being scared and terrified of.

Exhibit A: the vacuum cleaner. Most people can very easily picture the stereotypical dog barking like mad at this household appliance that really doesn't warrant any senses of threat other than the fact that it's very loud. I've owned a vacuum and lived in carpeted dwellings for the better part of Apollo's life. Thus his first meeting with Mr. Hoover came very early on and he became used to seeing me walk around the house in a weird pattern every few weeks with the vacuum.

Apollo "puts up" and seems indifferent with this machine and associated noise. He goes about his usual business and watches me pilot the vacuum up and down when it makes an appearance. He'll proceed to follow me into every room -seemingly to evaluate whether or not I'm doing a good job - until I'm finished. I have a suspicion he also thinks the vacuum to be somewhat of a nuisance. As I go about my cleaning, I'll frequently find my dog laying in the middle of the room - right in my path - and I have to "shoo" him away. Apollo will then do his best to convey a sense of "you've inconvenienced me" with his eyes as he walks/sulks away...

...but a mere 2 minutes later and 20 feet away in the same room, I find myself face to face with this Dachshund speed bump yet again.

His Quadrant

As Apollo and I grow older together, we continue to learn and adapt to each other every single day. One of the more recent developments has been yet another stage of evolution in our sleeping habits/arrangements.

I get the middle (or whatever area on the bed that I want) - period. No compromises there, it's rule #1 since the first day he was allowed to sleep on my bed. So that leaves my pooch with the surrounding areas on my queen-sized mattress. There are several possible arrangements as we approach closing our eyes and falling asleep. He could be up close and right up against me, but this tends to only occur during naps when we cuddle. I think the reason why is because we're both smart enough and have learned that the night session is a long one and we'll end up making each other way too hot. Apollo tends to roam to the right or left of my legs.

But recently he has seemingly "claimed" the quadrant of the bed that's on the bottom-left (to the left of my left leg). He will perform his standard Doxen burrow act under the covers down in that area almost every night. I know for certain that he's going to right to sleep when I see that bear-winter-hibernation impression. That's when I say good night and settle into my own pillow and close my eyes.

In the morning, I'll almost always find him in that same corner but in funny & strange positions. My favorite also happens to be the most common: on his back, head + chest + front paws stuck out from the comforter, eyes still closed.

Feeding Time

We all have internal clocks in our bodies. It is what helps keep us on track and periodically wakes us up mere seconds before our actual alarms go off in the morning. I believe that dogs share a similar clock... and theirs is controlled by their stomach.

Dinner is one of, if not the most, consistent things that happens in Apollo's day. I'm sure he looks forward to the next meal as early as the instant he has finished devouring the last bit of his current dinner. However it wasn't until only over the last couple of years has his dinner "time" become consistent - as I've had the luxury of working from home and not subject to the fluctuation of traffic patterns which affect my arrival home at the end of each workday.

Such consistency results in various rather humorous "reminders" from my dog that it's that time of the day. I've had him make grunting/whining sounds near me, to him giving me one of his patented "shoves", to him walking onto my lap and climbing onto my chest to say, "Hey, time for me to eat. Make my food."

I've started to look forward to his reminders each day. It's the only alarm clock I've ever wanted to see or hear in my life.

Open Door Policy

I've lived most of my life without roommates and have enjoyed my freedom to do pretty much "whatever, whenever" in my own little kingdom. My only subject in this kingdom: Apollo.

Being king means abiding by my own rules and schedules. Every one of us knows about this sense of freedom and liberty in varying degrees. Whether it is in your own house, apartment, or even in your own room - no one else is around to judge what you say, how you look, what you do, or when you do it. Thus it shouldn't blow your mind when I share the fact that I leave the doors - both bed and bath rooms - open all the time. The private activities that take place in both locations are seen by no one...except of course, my dog.

Even to this day it still amuses me somewhat when Apollo embraces these "open door policies" so wholeheartedly. If I'm changing in my bedroom, he is usually there to observe and decide if I'm about to desert him at home for hours. If I'm getting ready to take a shower, he's nowhere close (fearing that he may be next in line). But when I'm on the toilet doing my business and he comes strolling in with a look on his face that says, "Hey, what's up? Everything going good? Mind if I hang out?" and proceed to sit on the toilet rug in-between my legs...

That... makes me chuckle a bit each and every time.

The 1-2 Stretch

When dogs do things that us humans do - it always makes me chuckle and is almost always amusing. Our bodies and anatomy are very different, but there are way more parallels than there are differences.

Stretching feels great in the context of both loosening up as well as a natural body reaction after being in an idle position (e.g. sleeping or sitting for prolonged periods). Apollo is a dog. Dogs sleep a lot. Sleeping is typically followed by stretching. Ergo - Apollo stretches a lot.

His 2-step (front and rear half) stretch is very funny and cute to watch. It starts with him embodying the true definition of the "downward dog" yoga position. His hips go up and back as he relaxes his chest towards the ground to get a nice stretch of his front legs. Apollo carries out phase 2 by trying to elongate his body - which is already quite lengthy - as much as possible. His chest is thrust forward and his hind legs are like two heavy pieces of wood as they drag on the ground behind him for a brief moment to get the rest of his spine. The cherry-on-top finisher is usually his patented full body shake (just picture a wet dog trying to dry himself) of which you can hear him perform from one or two rooms away. The reason it is audible is because of his Dumbo-sized ears that flap/flop with vigor. 

When I hear that sound - I know he's awake.

Showoff with a Bone

My dog enjoys visitors to our home. And why wouldn't he? They shower him with affection and attention - the latter of which he simply cannot get enough of. 

For both entertainment and health benefits, I've always provided Apollo with Nylabone chew toys. These tough plastic-feeling bone-shaped sticks have been a part of his life ever since he was young. He picks them up for a good gnawing session from time to time when bored (reminds me of the way I plop down on the couch with a book). These bones help clean his teeth and builds strong jaw strength. They are also really the only "toys" that Apollo gets, but that's mostly because he's well beyond his playful years. These days his "sleep to play" ratio has easily shifted well towards the sleep side of the spectrum.

When we have visitors, Apollo is of course bursting with excitement and energy. He doesn't quite know what to do after he's gone through the obligatory process of sniffing, getting pats/hugs/kisses, and excited hopping. So he picks up his go-to toy - the Nylabone - and attempts to do his best impression of a beaver as he grinds and chews with great ferocity. I honestly believe he's attempting to put on a show for us. If he could talk, I'd imagine he would exclaim, "Everyone look what I can do!"

Happy Shoves

Being a Doxen, I've never had issues with Apollo being rude to people that we encounter. That's because he's small (around 20 pounds) so he's probably not as threatening as say, a medium to larger sized 50-lb dog if one were to come barreling down the sidewalk at you. Thus I've never felt the need to really teach him how to engage strangers in public. Also throw in the fact that he's no longer an inquisitive puppy who loves to play and sees everyone through rainbow colored vision, he's well-behaved enough to not require manner lessons.

I think we've all seen dogs who like to jump up on people when they are either excited or curious. This is obviously not something that a well-behaved dog should be allowed to do to strangers (even less acceptable for a mature dog, younger pups get a bit of leeway). Apollo doesn't do this to people purely because of his physical attributes not really allowing him to get above human knees at best.

But when he does get excited - he will jump up and give you a nice, undeniable 'shove' with his two front paws. Trust me, it's enough to throw most people off and surprise them with his force. From time to time, he continues to exhibit brief moments of young puppy energy in his eyes and behavior. I hope he never loses that.

Proud Burps

People often say that pets take after their owners. Not online in terms of looks (which tends to be quite humorous) but also personality. That makes a lot of sense logically when you think about it. You raise your pets - in my case a dog - and condition them the way you live various aspects of your life. The way you interact socially, the way you go about your daily lives and activities, and the way that you carry yourself.

I'll preface my following comments with the proclamation that I am a very courteous and well-behaved member of society when in public and also around other people (friends or strangers alike). But...I've always found burping and farting fairly funny, especially in the comfort of my own home. And thus when Apollo lets out a very audible and loud burp after he wolfs down his dinner every night - it puts a huge smile on my face and frequently makes me laugh. I know that's 100% a bodily function/reaction but I can't help but want to believe that he learned that from me.

It makes me quite proud of my boy. Doggy farts on the other hand - just as funny but not as pleasant (or predictable).

Pee Right, Pee Once

Dogs have always (and will continue to do so until the end of time) peed on objects to mark their territory. It's wired into their brains and they use it as a 'signature' similar to the way we endorse the backs of checks - except their checks are trees or fire hydrants. If you're a dog owner, surely you're familiar with the routine of walking them and pausing every so often for them to go through their ritual at a new tree or light post.

Not my dog. His focus is about doing the job and getting it done quickly. One pee - and he drains the full bladder. Efficiency is the name of the game for him. It most likely has something to do with the conditioning and routine that we've established together throughout our lives. There's one objective when we go outside: elimination.

He's a one-pee kind of dog.