Split Focus

Kenny and I took Dudley to the vet this morning.   Dudley has been licking himself silly lately, and there had been some spots on his skin we were watching, so we wanted to double check that all was well.   It was hard to concentrate on the exam, though, because Kenny, somehow aware that he was not the main event for the visit, worked overtime being cute.

I had set him down once in the exam room, with firm instructions not to touch anything, and held Dudley for the vet to give him the once-over.   Kenny toddled over to the rack of brochures on the wall, all with adorable pictures of dogs, and pulled down several.   Then he started flipping through them, saying, “PaPee!   DaDee!” (“Puppy!   Doggie!”).   When that failed to garner a response, he began carefully turning each page as if he were going to read us a story, all the while babbling with such perfect, animated inflections that you would swear he really was reading, just in a language other than English.

I had one eye on him, one on Dudley, half an ear on the vet and the rest of my capacities spent in trying not to laugh.   Our wonderful vet is so in love with animals, that he didn’t even notice the pipsqueek in the corner reciting the Gettysburg Address.    Dudley was so happy to have all the attention on him, he started wagging his tail with such ferver I thought it would fall off.   Then our vet delivered the good news / bad news.

Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be any physiological worries.   His little skin spots are just a de-pigmentation, nothing to worry about, and it doesn’t seem that there are any immune deficiencies or allergies causing the constant licking.   The verdict in fact was that the dear old doc believes that Dudley is exhibiting obsessive/compulsive disorder, and that the licking is due to his  desire for more exercise and attention.   He said that it’s quite common in working dogs who are pets.

Now as far as the average pet goes, Dudley lives in the Taj Mahal.   We don’t spoil him (hey – we’ve read the Dog Whisperer’s book), but he gets pretty lavished with love and attention.   We take him everywhere with us, he gets his walk first thing every day, and we snuggle with him every night after Kenny goes to bed.   But weimaraners are a different breed (pardon the pun) from your average canine.   They don’t just want a walk, they want an eight hour day of prowling through the marsh.   They don’t just want a snuggle, they want to sit  on your lap and have a swedish massage.   They don’t just want to go for a ride, they want to drive.

So combine the natural tendencies with the fact that we have a human toddler in the house, and it’s a recipe for the weimaraner boo-hoos.

Our vet gave Dudley a low-dose  anti-anxiety medicine that he’s supposed to take for a few months to wean him of the licking habit.   (Oh goodness… everyone’s weaning!)   And he suggested that we up his exercise a little more, too, to take the edge off.   I was half-expecting that we were also going to get a referral to a dog psychiatrist, but that fortunately didn’t come up.

When we got home, we went for an hour long walk.   Kenny fell asleep, and stayed that way in his stroller in the living room for an hour.   (!)   Dudley took a long happy  nap at my feet and I got most of the way through a pile of unopened mail that dates almost to back Bastille Day.  

Finally, to update on Kenny, he is continuing to eat like a horse, and for the first time, actually lost interest in nursing at one point today.   Two minutes into it, he heard Dudley galloping through the living room, and he rolled off my lap to stumble after him, to see what the fun was all about.   I sat there, a little shocked, and realized that weaning is real, and it looks like it’s working.   I just need someone to wean me!