Our dog Owen is a lovable galoot. He’s a pit-lab mix, about as beta as they come, and loves nothing more than to snuggle up to any creature, human or otherwise, who will have him. He also likes trying to eat everything. I mean EVERYTHING.
Some years ago, “everything” included the rubber nipple from a baby bottle he had come into possession of, which caused a blockage and expensive surgery. We are more careful now, but he still manages to get into weird stuff from time to time. This weekend, his diet consisted of:
- corpses of bumblebees slain in the great Wasp v Bee wars of 2017
- dried up worms
- part of a woven handbasket
- bark
- dandelions
- his own poop
Dogs are not the most discerning eaters.
He also is having a few issues adjusting to life out here. The first night we were out here, any time we took him anywhere, he would immediately try to drag us back to the car because clearly we were smoking crack and this is not his home. I had forgotten how strong he is, even with a gentle lead on, as he was able to practically yank my arm out of the socket.
Day 2, he would run around me in circles, frantically trying to figure out why the hell we were still here despite his earnest request to go back home. We also, on this day, put up a 10′ x 10′ dog run with a lovely little igloo home in it, surrounded by pig fence to prevent digging.
Day 3 was our first day back at work after the move – we left Owen in his run with water, a couple of toys, his dog house stuffed with blankets… And he seemed fine. He was whimpering and barking at us in a hoarse puppy bark by the time we got home, but he seemed to be pretty ok.
On day 8, I took him out for a walk – he has to stay on a leash – and we encountered a neighbor’s dog on our land, and the dog kind of barked hello at us, but maintained his distance. I think, since it had been 3 years since there were people living here, the dog was surprised he had any competition for places to crap. We haven’t seen that dog again.
I write this on day 13, as I sit on the patio, with him in his dog run and I prepare to work from home, and he’s doing a kind of low-grade whining at me, but seems generally pretty chill. Over the weekend we managed to take him for a little stroll around the edges of the field and he was quite happy with that, so it seems our city dog is beginning to acclimate quite well to the country life.
Edit: I went inside to do a few things and about 30 minutes after I came in, I heard scratching at the porch door. It was Owen. He had managed to pull open his dog run gate just enough to get free, and fortunately had the good sense to not go running to hell and gone, just came upstairs and tried to get in. I let him in and he immediately went over to a sofa and fell asleep, completely oblivious to my freaking out that he could have gotten lost or hurt.