Story 69: Olympic Eater

What was the cause of Laika's endless amounts of gas? I asked a magic 8-ball if it was due to the speed at which she ate her food. The answer was, "All signs point to yes." So, there you have it. Science at its most scientific. But, in all seriousness, saying that Laika "ate" is not really the proper verb, because that would have meant that she took the time to chew, which wasn't always the case!

So, Laika inhaled her food. As a puppy, she would wait by her bowl with eyes wide and tail flailing in anticipation of her meal. As soon as the bowl touched-town, she would fly into a legitimate feeding frenzy! In less than 20 seconds, every last morsel of the dry food would be gone and she proceed to lick the bowl until it fell on the ground (more on this tomorrow).

One of my friends came over to visit shortly after I started taking care of Laika and he could not believe the rate at which she consumed her meals. After she was done, it honestly looked as if there had not been food in the bowl. Given that she was eating dry food, she was most likely ingesting a lot of air as well. This was definitely the cause for her massive amount of exhaust from both ends, which she proudly released at will!

In order to curtail any type of damage to her system, I started elevating her bowl and moistening her food with water in later years to slow her down. Still, even after surgeries and at times when I thought she was down for the count with treatments, she continued her gluttonous ways by consistently pushing Olympic-level times for speedy consumption.

For Laika, eating was life. And, therefore, gas was life, too! If there had been an eating competition for pups, I have no doubt that she would have won. In fact, sometimes she ate so quickly that I forgot if I had fed her. Worrying that she would be starving, I would inevitably feed her again. Obviously, this was not a problem for her and she would eat round 2 with the same gusto! I secretly believe that she tried to get this bonus meal more times than not!

Laika was, therefore, a true Olympic eater. But her skill of cleaning her own bowl would have also wowed the international judges...

I like this photo a lot. I have no photos of Laika eating, which is not so weird. According to my parents, there was no camera fast enough to capture it!

Story 68: Rude Awakening

Since we are already firmly in the gutter, let's make today a trifecta or sorts. This will complete the hat trick of farting (which was actually pretty commonplace with Big Baby Windbag). Much like her toot at the vet, this story involves Laika harnessing the power of her gas as a weapon...a biological weapon of sorts.

Laika loved to sleep. As she got older, it was one of her favorite pastimes. However, since the world revolved around her, when she woke up in the morning, everyone else had to wake up, too. Since I was usually the only one around, that meant she could focus her efforts solely on getting me out of bed. Sometimes she was desperate to go out (due to medication side-effects), but most of the time it was because she was hungry. Because, well, she was hungry almost all of the time!

As a pup, she had some tried and true methods of trying to wake me. These included jumping on the bed and licking my face, laying with all of her force through her pointy elbows directly on my chest, howling like a fiend to tell me that it was breakfast time, and passively whacking her tail off of things around the room to produce a loud drumming. Even if I tried to hide under the covers, she would dig her way under and resume her wake-up call, body and tail wiggling all the time as if we were playing a game. It was a nice way to start the day, actually...even in the pre-5 am dawn, as she learned that breakfast was given after I was roused; so, the earlier, the better (for her).

This carried on for a few years, until she learned a more sinister way to wake me up: by farting pretty much directly in my face and then running away to watch my reaction from across the room. I am not sure where she learned to do this, but it was a very effective method to make sure that I vacated my warm bed immediately, even on the coldest of days. If you have not been woken-up by a stinky trumpet blast from the business-end of a dog at near point blank range, I would like to officially state that it is not really a fun way to start the day. It was all in good fun for Laika, though, as she would eagerly observe my response with a gleam in her eye and a tail wag that would crescendo as smelled the wake-up call and quickly got up to give her breakfast. As usual, as soon as I acknowledged what she had done, so exuded immense pride and performed a sort of victory parade around my room. (As the younger brother of an infamous farter, this type of olfactory abuse was nothing new to me, sadly.)

Although she mixed-in the sort-of-good with the bad, the "rude awakening" as I will call it was sometimes her first line method, but very often her back-up for when I didn't wake up quick enough for her liking. Granted, I am vegan and eat a lot of beans, so Laika did have to put up with my endless exhaust. But, I have never once weaponized my flatulence as a means of achieving my goals with her. Plus, it is my understanding that dogs love stinky things. So, in some ways Laika might have been happy in the house of a farter such as myself...but I digress.

Since these stories have highlighted Laika's fantastic, gaseous qualities, it might be a good time to explore the other end in an attempt to explain how she ended up this way. It might have been the way that she ate, but we'll have to wait until tomorrow!

View from the business-end.

Story 67: A Shocking Surprise

To continue with yesterday's theme, today will be another foray into Laika's farting excellence...yeah, I guess I can use this word, right? This story actually predates the Treat Fart and basically prepared me for what was to come. Additionally, it has been a source of amusement for over a decade at this point!

The apartment where I lived when I first starting taking care of Laika was a typical early 20th century Pittsburgh apartment. I guess I would describe it as railroad-style, since there were a lot of smaller rooms, but the most prominent feature was a long, cavernous hallway that ran most of apartment's length. Given that there was no a/c, this was really nice for airflow all the way from the front balcony to the dining room and kitchen in the back.

Once Laika moved in, this was pretty much a dog runway, as she would tear up and down the hall with reckless abandon while playing and rub her damp back the entire length of it after baths or when we came in from the rain. I was glad that she enjoyed the hallway so much, because it wasn't much good for much else. Even on rainy or cold days, which we have a lot of here, the space was perfect to ensure that Laika always had plenty of exercise.

During the day (when she wasn't crated), she would park herself in the hallway facing the door from the stairwell, waiting to greet my roommate or I when we came home. At night, she would sometimes just sit in the hallway, staring-off alertly into the darkness toward the dining room...presumably watching the ghosts that inevitably inhabited our old building. She never barked at them, though.

Even though the hallway was carpeted, sounds resonated greatly in it due to the tall, stark walls. Laika's running and play-growling was, therefore, magnified within the space. I am not sure what it sounded like for the downstairs neighbors, but they never complained and were always very happy to interact with Laika when they saw her. I'm sure some of her pouncing and jumping was enough wake the ghosts, though! She wasn't the loudest dog, especially since she wasn't much of a barker, but the hall had a way (sort of a pun) of amplifying everything.

At no time was this more clear than when Laika gave herself a shocking surprise. It was later one evening and I was home, relaxing in the living room at the front of the apartment. Laika had been somewhere else, probably laying on my bed, when I heard her rustling around in the hallway near the door to the stairwell. As I turned the corner to investigate, she was sitting completely still, facing the door with her back toward the long expanse of the hall. As soon as she saw me, she suddenly emitted a single, explosive fart that reverberated loudly down the entire length of the hall, bouncing off all of the surfaces as it echoed to its final termination in the land of ghosts. (Luckily, it was all bark and no bite, so the air remained relatively clear.)

I was speechless, having just witnessed this powerful volley. Laika, too, was completely shocked as her body shook in the aftermath. Still stunned, her immediate reaction was to turn around and bark desperately into the depths of the hallway, as if she was protecting herself from the evil that had just escaped from her bottom. Fear quickly turned to pride, as she started wagging her tail, satisfied that the threat had been abated. I almost fell on the floor laughing at the sheer absurdity of Laika's reaction. She could tell I was amused and immediately wanted a reward for doing whatever she had just done. Her reward was actually to go outside, as I was pretty certain that the fart was a harbinger of something more nefarious. Turns out, I was correct.

This episode was a hit with all of my friends, becoming a well-loved tale almost immediately. It also set a very loud tone (yes, this is a pun) that taking care of Laika was going to be one "shocking surprise" after another!

Laika, at the scene of the crime.

Story 66: The Treat Fart

So, I had a pretty awkward, yet hilarious, moment at the vet with Laika. It became a running joke for years with my friends and those who provided care for my four-legged companion. As if that wasn't enough, Laika created her own humorous events with the vet. We were kind of a dynamic duo, apparently...though Laika was allowed to be a bit more uncouth because, well, she was a dog. This particular story happened during one of her many vet visits and, as the title suggests, involved her most well-known skill: flatulence.

Before I took care of Laika, I had a theory that dogs could not fart loudly. I based this assumption on the fact that they did not have butt-cheeks, which seemed to play a significant role in the volume and timbre of producing loud farts. As it turns out, I was completely wrong. In fact, Laika disproved this theory constantly. By constantly, I actually mean all the time...she was pretty much part bagpipe, especially when she would produce a smelly tone directly on cue when being hugged! (She would then wag her tail to "spread the love," as it was called.) But...I digress.

Laika was usually proud of her noisy exhaust. However, in times of distress or nervousness, she would both yawn and fart non-stop. It was funny to witness...especially if outdoors or near an open window! So, each vet trip was accompanied by a usual soundtrack of "yawwww" and "braaaaaap," with some sad whining mixed-in. It was a sad sight with a silver lining, because once we arrived she would be really excited to get attention from the vet and techs. In fact, she would get attention and non-stop treats...Oh, and some sort of medical procedure, too, which she never really seemed to worry too much about as long as the treats were flowing.

One particular visit a few years ago involved both treats and farts. I distinctly remember the appointment being about something rather serious, most likely the aspiration of a mass and then her anal glands being express. So, something entirely not fun for either of us, especially Laika. As usual, though, Laika was the perfect patient and tolerated all of the poking and prodding with complete stoicism. It made it easier that she was being given non-stop treats...keeping her eyes and mind directly on the impending delivery of goodies while she stood perfectly still on the exam table. She was amazingly good for people she knew were helping her.

At one point, the vet needed to leave to examine some of the cell aspirations and I stayed in the room giving Laika more and more treats. She was so happy, despite the previous procedures and sat on the floor with a goofy smile on her face and her tail buzzing. When the vet came back, it was her turn to give Laika treats while we discussed the results. As usual, it was a wait-and-see kind of lump, which was par for the course, sadly. At some point during our discussion, though, the doctor stopped giving treats. It might have been the gravity of the topic, I'm not sure. Regardless, Laika was not pleased. Her initial reaction was to stop wagging her tail, which created a noticeable silence, and gazing blankly and unblinkingly at the vet. The quiet alerted us that something was amiss. As we turned our attention to Laika, she was waiting completely still for the next treat...practically staring into the vet's soul.

"No more treats," the vet said. Laika, continuing her vigil, was obviously unsatisfied with this proclamation and responded the most forceful way she could...by breaking the silence with a thunderous fart that reverberated all around the tiled exam room! I laughed out loud as soon as Laika made her disagreement known. The vet, on the other hand, looked totally bewildered, but immediately produced another treat for our gassy protagonist. Laika was so happy that she started wagging her tail, which quickly "spread the love" around the room. I could not stop laughing. Laika looked really proud of herself as she munched the treat and, secretly, deep-down inside, I was proud of her, too. The vet eventually ended-up chuckling a bit, but maybe because of my reaction to the situation. Perhaps this solidified my place as a certified manchild? Fine by me, because the timing and volume of the fart were hilarious...and perfect; as were Laika's extreme concentration and focus. I hope that after the fact the vet was able to appreciate what had transpired, because it was something that only Laika could have done!

Unlike my mistaken phrase that lived-on in good-natured infamy around the vet office, this was not as celebrated an event. Regardless, the treat fart was hilarious and something so totally representative of Laika-ness that the sight and the smell are indelibly etched into my memory forever.

The stare.

Story 65: The Rash...The Phrase

As a young pup, Laika was a ball of energy and...a ball of allergies! She quickly learned to accept the lifestyle of Benadryl. In fact, she willing embraced it, since peanut butter was the vehicle for taking pills. Still, as noted yesterday, she was prone to getting rashes and skin infections during her warm weather frolicking in the grass. The first time this happened, resulted in a somewhat awkward, yet hilarious situation at the vet.

Laika wasn't much of a licker. She was more of a scratcher. I feel like dogs usually fall into one of these two camps for usual methods of addressing itching, at least in my experience. So, when Laika would start to lick her paws or other areas, I knew that it was time to bring her to the vet. I learned this early on, as the change in habit meant that she was having some sort of allergic reaction.

A long time ago, Laika would go to the park pretty regularly to run around like a complete fool. Although the pack of insane hounds there had collectively managed to trample most of the ground, there was still grass lurking to irritate my poor baby! After one such outing, we returned home and Laika seemed a bit itchier than usual. She was rubbing on every surface possible and couldn't get comfortable. I felt bad for her and gave her an extra Benadryl to help. She seemed to calm down, which was a relief to both of us.

The next day, however, she had moved from scratching and rubbing to licking herself in a very private/sensitive area! I could see that her inner legs and belly were very red and had some small lesions, from contact with some environmental allergen (most likely grass) or from the licking. Either way, it was time to take Laika to see the vet. Being that this was one of our early trips, I hadn't yet built a rapport with the doctors or techs there. Still, they remembered Laika from her first visits and knew she was a complete goof.

We arrived at the vet and were immediately put in a room to wait. Laika continued her licking, despite my attempts to get her to stop. I was really unsure of what to tell them, because Laika was licking her "private area" a lot and I was a bit embarrassed to tell them. Not sure why, but it was a point of overthinking. When the tech entered the room, she asked what was wrong with Laika. I immediately (and nervously) answered, "Um...she has a rash in her bathing suit area and has been licking non stop." The tech responded by laughing uncontrollably, while Laika stopped licking and wondered what was so funny. Apparently, this was not the usual way to describe the afflicted area, and the tech called in the doctor for me to explain it again. Yes, this was a somewhat awkward situation, but still amusing, I think. (It's been about 10 years and I still remember the scene like it just happened!)

As I repeated myself for the vet, Laika, almost on cue, rolled over to expose her rash for both of them to see. Through much hearty laughter, the vet confirmed immediately that it was a skin infection from some type of allergy. She said she was going to remember the phrase "bathing suit area" for a long time, as, clearly, no one had ever said that before. And, in fact, she and the tech did! They probably put it in Laika's permanent record, just to keep it "on file." I feel like they reminded me about it years later and it was still funny to them. I wasn't embarrassed, but was pretty amused that it made such an impact! As far as Laika's skin infection, it went away pretty quickly with the help of antibiotics and she was back to her normal, slightly itchy self in no time.

Laika, though, had some other memorable trips to the vet for very different reasons...

Feelin' good with a rash-free belly!

Story 64: The Sensitive Lady

When you think of a pitbull or a boxer, do you get the mental of a tough-as-nails, burly pup? If so, this post will certainly shatter any preconceived notions that you might have. Because, well, as I found out early on with Laika, both of these breeds are predisposed to tons of allergies. So, while Laika may have looked imposing, if it weren't for her constantly wagging tail and goofy grin, one of her biggest weaknesses was actually grass. Yes, grass!

I didn't realize until we had a backyard that many of Laika's itchy issues were caused by being in the grass! For the first four years that I took care of her, she would randomly have allergy problems that sometimes seemed to be from things inside the apartment and other times from external threats. She would go from having irritated, crusty eyes one week to a skin rash a few weeks later.

As a result, she became a medicated pup pretty quickly, taking around 3 Benadryl tablets a day to help her get by. At first, these made her sleepy, but after week or so she became immune to the drowsiness effects. This was good, because she basically lived on the pills year-round. At times, she also needed a topical antibiotic also to help with skin infections that would inevitably occur as a result of the allergies. Still, the vet and I had a problem figuring-out the cause.

After moving to a house, though, it became pretty obvious that the wonderful yard where Laika loved to relax and roll around was the main cause of her problems. Grass was not only a delicacy for her, she would eat it like a goat even against explicit requests to stop; but it was also Public Enemy #1 for her skin. Walking, playing or even laying in the grass would cause her to itch or lick her paws incessantly. I attempted to limit her time in the grass, but to no avail. Luckily, it got to the point where the extra Benadryl (6 tablets) to control her cancer helped with the contact allergy to the great, green outdoors. Additionally, her vet, thankfully, started prescribing antibiotics for me to keep on hand in case of skin infection.

Given the difficultly of avoiding grass, we learned to control Laika's reactions to it so she was able to enjoy doing what she loved most: grazing, rolling and running in the yard. Despite the breed-specific stigma of Laika being a fearless ruffian, she was actually quite a sensitive lady. In her last year, she didn't have too many problems with skin infections, except when she stayed at my friends' house and played with their dogs in the yard constantly. However, the first time I took her to the vet for a rash in a sensitive area is still a very memorable event, which the vet and techs never let me live down...

Story 63: Hot Dog - Hot Weather Chronicles

In cold weather, a front row seat near the fire was Laika's favorite spot. Even though it made her, quite literally, a hot dog, she loved it! In warm weather, she actually liked more of the same. Anytime there was a patch of sunlight, Laika could be found basking happily!

My parents have a lot of windows in their house. When temperatures were too high for the fireplace to be used, Laika would turn her attention to seeking warm spots of carpet to relax on. This was pretty entertaining to watch, as the angles of the sunlight would change throughout the day. So, Laika would doze for a bit then wake-up in the shadows and quickly relocate to a better, hotter location. Looking back on this habit of hers, I am beginning to think that she was actually solar-powered!

She did this at my house, too. However, there were only windows on two sides (as I lived in a row house), so there were less possible spots for her to actively chase the sunlight. Still, she was able to find lots of places to recharge her body; sometimes heating it beyond a natural level! She didn't seem to care about that, though. She just loved being warm...constantly turning and readjusting to make sure that she sunned herself on all sides.

Even in the hottest weather, Laika would want to lay directly in the sun when I would let her outside. I couldn't understand why she wanted to be so warm, but relaxing on the hot concrete was one of her favorite summer activities! It was as if she was a lizard on a heat rock. She would happily walk outside and plop-down on the ground, ready to chill...I mean...bake in the sunlight. Given the fact that she had a lot of exposed skin on her back, on extremely hot days, I would sometimes apply some sunscreen under her shirt to prevent burning if we were going to be outside for more than a few minutes. I also made sure to keep her sun exposure to a minimum, because, well, she was not so good at the moderation thing.

Having a warm, happy pup was wonderful. It was too bad that she wasn't able to lay around in the grass, though. As it turns out, she was a very sensitive lady...