Snow White

Meet Hugo

Hugo is my boyfriend’s dog and the inspiration for getting Henry. He’s the original Maltese in our circle and is about 3-years-old. He spends his days perched on the couch, people watching by the window and barking at unsavoury characters. He loves liver treats, strolls in the park and holiday sweaters. It’s my dream that Hugo from London and Henry from Los Angeles will one day meet.

Every Morning is Monday Morning

Getting ready in the mornings is never pleasant for me. Ever. If the problem isn’t the fact that I cannot bear the thought of getting out from under my soft, warm and ever so accommodating bed, it’s that I take one look in the mirror and immediately know it’s going to be a bad day because no amount of makeup or fake peppy facial expressions can help me. These are probably the days that I feel I’m at about 10 percent.

That’s how I judge how I feel on a given day, with percentages. For example, if I’m feeling pretty great, which means my clothes, my look and my mind are in order, I’d say I’m at 90 percent. If I’m feeling horrid and nothing is going well for me, including the mountain of a pimple that just showed up on my chin’s doorstep, then I probably feel about -5 percent. The most interesting part is, that even if I start out at a good percentage, say 75, by the end of the day, I’m almost in single digit numbers. That’s quite discouraging. I can honestly say that I’ve never felt 100 percent, EVER. But then again, who has? On second thought, I’m sure there are people who have. I hate them.

After I gauge a percentage, I go about my business of turning the kettle on, decided what to wear all the while running from the bathroom to my room multiple times. During this tedious process, Henry the Maltese is ever so vigilantly by my side and will follow me at all costs, no matter where I go and no matter how many times I go there.

When I get to the bathroom, he’ll duck himself in there with me and then, because no one is home and I need to make light of the fact that I feel like DEATH, I strike up a conversation with him.

“No Henry, that’s an illegal behavior,” I politely tell him when he sticks his head in the trash can.

While in my room, I ask him about my wardrobe. “What should I wear? What do you think? If you had to pick something for me what would it be? Oh c’mon, don’t be shy. Pick something!”

While in the kitchen, I discuss life. “If you had a choice between staying home and going to work, which would you choose?”

When he wanders off out of sight, I miss him. “Can you come back now? I have to leave soon and I want to see as much of you as possible. Why don’t you ever make yourself heard?”

When I have to leave, I reassure him that it will be ok. “I have to go now Henry. I’ll be back home soon, I promise. You just stay put, ok? I’ll be back I swear.”

And as I shut the door, I hear him barking in the distance, as if to say, “Why do you leave every morning?”

I ask myself the same thing.

Well That Was Fun

When Henry the Maltese decided to wake up at 2 a.m. and stand in front of the bedroom door, patiently waiting for me to open it, I knew there was a problem. Usually if he gets up at an odd time, it’s to crawl under the bed in an effort to find cooler space, or sniff out some socks to chew on. I stumbled out of bed and opened the door and watched him head straight for his pad in the kitchen. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and before I knew it, Henry was spinning in circles like a mad man, arching his back and probably feeling horrible that he was having a big bout of explosive diarrhea.

After I cleaned him up, wrapped him in a towel and went back to bed, I knew it wasn’t the end of the Diarrhea Night of Hell. I opened all the windows in the kitchen, knowing full well that if that putrid smell was not allowed to exit the building, it would surely kill a 200 lb. man.

By 6 a.m, I had let him go about his business and washed him about three times. When 7 a.m. rolled around, I contemplated whether or not I should make the trek to work.

Somehow I pulled strength from somewhere and got up to get dressed. I had barely made my way to the bathroom when I heard something that sounded like faint fireworks exploding in the living room. When I got to Henry, he was crouched over, no doubt in pain from whatever had just shot out of his ass. It was clear we were not celebrating ANYTHING.

The rest of my day was spent nursing him back to health. In more ways than you know, I needed a day off, and perhaps Henry answered my prayers by deciding to keep me up all night and day so that I could wipe his bum and try not to throw up at the same time.

As the day progressed, he sat in my lap, where he is right now, seeking warmth and comfort from me. Occasionally, he’d raise his head, look at me with those big brown eyes and let out a tiny whine. Tucking his snout under my arm, he went to sleep, only waking up if he heard a threatening sound. It’s in these moments, that I realize that I need him just as much as he needs me. The cleaning, the wiping, the worrying, the taking time off work, it’s all worth it, when at the most unexpected moment, he pops his head up just to lick my hand, as if he’s saying “thank you.” No Henry, thank you.

Did I Mention Henry Voted?

He couldn’t get up as the early as rest of us, so he snuck out to his local polling center at PetSmart down the street and cast his vote. I tried to get him to tell me who he voted for, but he wasn’t having it. However, I think it’s safe to saw he went for Baruff Obama and not John McClaw.

Nipple Nipper

This morning after eating breakfast, I decided to come and make my bed, when all of a sudden, a little monster named Henry just wouldn’t let me. He hopped up his mini stairs and began chasing my hands around as I was trying to straighten out the quilt cover. He was not only nipping me, but growling as well. I wanted to shout, “The power of Christ compels you!” in my best Dr. Evil voice. He had gone nuts. I continued about trying to get my job done, while this 6lb white gorilla kept gnawing on my hands. There were times when he would stop biting and spin around like dervish, until I relented and moved around to the other side of the bed.

And then, in an uncharacteristic move, I put my hands behind me, thinking I had outsmarted him. He looked up, blinked at me twice and before I knew it, he had jumped up and taken a nip at my breast! My right one to be exact. I scowled in pain between my fit of laughter and checked under my shirt to see if there was bleeding involved. Thankfully, I got out unscathed. Henry, shame on you. I guess it’s safe to say Henry is definitely not a fan of the behind.

It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

Yes yes, I know. Christmas is at least three months away, but it looks like one of Santa’s elves has come out to play…

Henry tried on some pyjamas last night, as you can tell. A lot of people might get the impression that dressing dogs is silly and while for the most part, I whole heartedly agree, you have to take into consideration that small dogs, especially Maltese, because they don’t have an undercoat, get cold. So here he is, getting ready for the holiday season that is ever so quickly creeping up on us.

Nice to Gnome You

It has been about eight weeks and four days since Henry’s luxating patella surgery. I’m happy to report that for the most part, he’s doing very well. It’s almost as if he didn’t have surgery. He’s forgotten it, except when he’s taken outside early in the morning towards the cars parked in the driveway. I think he thinks he might be going back for more bandages and stitches.

There are times when I think I’ve seen him slightly lift one of his legs while running, although this could either be me worrying more than I should be, or just a normal part of the recovery process. His fur is growing back at a good rate, although he still looks like a lion in the front and a mouse from the back. One of the most important things that I do now is trim is pads, paws and nails frequently. Because we have hardwood floors, I want him to be able to grip the floor as easily as possible because the hair that grows between his pads might cause him to slip. Right now, he’s wrestling with an empty water bottle all around the house.

It’s been a long journey, and perhaps one of the most difficult things I’ve yet to experience in my life. I imagine I’ve experienced somewhat similar feelings of having a child recover from surgery. I know that might sound over the top and possibly an unfair comparison, but it’s something only dog lovers and owners can understand, especially people who own Maltese dogs.

Now that the surgery has been put more or less behind us, Henry and I have more important things to worry about. Like what he’s going to be for Halloween!

Last year was Henry’s first Halloween. Because of this, I wanted to make an extra special costume for him. I thought long and hard about what would be the best costume for an almost 1-year-old white ball of fluff and it came to me almost suddenly.

A gnome! I ended up making most of the costume out of felt, with the exception of his vest and belt, which was made out of Persian silk. It’s a shame that I hadn’t gotten Henry a year before, because I was Amelie two Halloweens ago, in tribute to my most favorite film.

Because of his costume, Henry even won second place at Etsy’s Halloween Costume Showcase! This year I have a couple of ideas for him. I’m strongly leaning towards Sherlock Holmes or some old timer like Benjamin Franklin or George Washington. We will see in a month’s time!

Henry Goes to Rehab

This week, I made the trek across town to take Henry to a physical therapy appointment, and I left with three different supplements, eight pages of physical therapy exercises, a dent in my credit card and one tired dog. Henry went through a thorough 2 hour exam where every part of his legs were checked. When we got home, he went straight to sleep. I really have my work cut out for me. In order to aid in his recovery from luxating patella surgery, Henry must take antioxidant supplements, fish oil as well as a pain/mood enhancing medication. His diet also needs to include only 50 percent commercial food and will be supplemented with various fruits, vegetables and spices. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t be feeding him any commercial food, but because I don’t have the time to cook for him, he does eat kibble and canned food. However, his food is always supplemented with vegetables and pure sources of protein, like chicken, beef and turkey. We make sure to cook for him as often as we can.

Henry’s therapist was the first professional I had met in the field of veterinary medicine that advocated the use of cooked meals and raw, organic foods in a dog’s diet. It was then, that I knew I had made the right choice to take him in for an exam. Every other vet I have spoken to or pet owners in general, usually don’t advocate the use of so called ‘human’ food in a dog’s diet. I always thought this was a ridiculous idea. Despite them being different, a dog’s nutritional needs are not that far off from a human’s. I feel sad for dogs who are always kept on dry kibble and never have the chance to experience the taste of foods that are good for them. What a boring palette. Food is the essence of life, in my opinion and should be enjoyable for humans and animals alike.

But, I digress. For the last 2 days I have been doing exercises with Henry when I’ve come home from work. These include short walks and a number of balance and flexibility exercises. Getting through all of them is hard. I am so tired by the end of it, not to mention stressed. I just can’t wait for him to fully recover. If I had the necessary funds, I would put him in the physical therapy program that the rehabilitation center offers, which includes 2 visits per week, but unfortunately, I don’t.

While we were there, Henry met a dachshund named Lily and he kept pulling on his leash to go play with her. When they took her away, he started to cry! My heart broke. He definitely needs a playmate and I look forward to the day when I can get him one.

It’s been a little over 5 weeks since his surgery, however we’ve got a long road ahead of us. One that involves much exercise, stressful days, sleepless nights and extra cuddles.

Thank You for the Memories

I woke up with a terrible headache this morning and when I took one look at Henry and saw how peacefully asleep he was, I knew I couldn’t get up, get dressed and fight the traffic to get to work. So I ended up staying home, nursing my head (and Henry) and cleaning my room up a bit. By the end of the day, I was feeling much better. It’s so nice to be home once in a while. My mind was so at ease. It was so nice being able to look outside at my garden, instead of the walls of the cubicle I sit in. It was so nice, that I decided to play photographer and took some photos of my usual subject, Henry.

Roaring white lion.