EXECUTIVE SUMMARY:
- An Executive Summary is for all you Jackballs out there who think you don't have enough time to read through an entire document. It's usually for the same people who don't know what an Executive Summary is.
- Zinny is a good dog that came to us from an exploitative breeding situation if you believe my hyper-active imagination.
- Zinny is now living a secure, stable life except for her occasional hilarious spats with Fudgie.
- She won the shelter dog lottery - a pig ear, two square meals, medicine, cuddling, an occasional marrow bone, a warm dog bed, and a long walk every day.
- She cowers around loud, Neanderthal Biped males like myself.
- And yet she thinks we're married by the way she growls and barks at me when I'm not giving her enough attention.
- She loves hiking and experiencing new places.
- She's the perfect K-9 road trip companion - sleeps all the time, gigantic bladder, and just happy to be in the truck.
- Is completely content with everything she gets. Except when there's dog birthday cake at hand.
PREAMBLE
We got Zinnia June of 2024. She was advertised on the Kennebec Valley Humane Society's Facebook site. She's the first girl dog, and the first yellow lab Liana and I ever had.
The second I saw her picture and read her description, I dropped what I was doing and partially filled out the application. I say partially because I own a world-famous pet store, and had many score of Labrador notches on my belt. I didn't need to be bogged down by questions regarding whether I had a dog before, or the ratio of all the felonies I'd been acquitted/convicted. I was called back almost immediately. And yes, they knew of our little cranky operation in Boothbay Harbor. A couple of the staff even read this blog. Or they lied about reading it.
Either way, I was flattered.
They thought I should bring in Fudgie to see if the dogs were compatible, and I agreed. Of course they were compatible. Just look at this picture below. I think they just wanted to make sure I wasn't as disjointed as my writings suggest.
Auggie was not consulted. He only hated puppies, and was just fine with older dogs when they weren't blocking his food.
When we came to pick her up the next day, she gleefully hopped up into Liana's car and never looked back. She was a lot like Buddy and Auggie. The other dogs; Max, Coal, and Teddy had very obvious and anxious adjustment periods to Chez Salty. They thought their previous owners were coming back. Not Buddy, Auggie or Zinny. They never skipped a beat. They never looked back. They were ready for the clean slate that was Chez Salty.
ZINNIA'S INCARCERATION & PAST
The police picked Zinnia up wandering around downtown Lewiston, Maine. They said she was friendly but confused and it seemed like she was looking for something. She was also lactating. Hard. Her teats were like something out of an old National Geographic magazine featuring naked, primitive tribes doing risqué things like walking around without bras and T-Shirts. I mean, look at the photo of her with Fudgie.
Thinking she was a lost dog, the police brought her to KVHS and when the shelter called the number on her microchip, the man on the other end said, "That fucking dog? You can just keep her," and hung up.
The folks at the shelter knew she was special. Someone loved her in the past. She knew all the commands. She was friendly with everyone and everydog. She instantly became the shelter darling. Sometimes they let her out of her crate to hang out at the front desk when things were slow. (THIS IS TOTAL FICTION. I WOULD NEVER RAT ANYONE AT THE SHELTER OUT).
You can take this section with a grain of salt inasmuch as I came up with a neat, tidy theory regarding Teddy that was laughably fictitious.
The fiction involved Teddy being owned by a single woman in a one-story building who fed him from her plate. That's why I thought he responded more to Liana than me, was tediously food-picky, and wouldn't go upstairs.
In fact, Teddy's first owner was a man in his 50's who died. Then he (Teddy, not the corpse) was sent to a relative- another middle-aged man in his 50's who subsequently died.
That's how Ol' Spaghetti ended up in the shelter.
Presumably, Skeds didn't want to get close to me because he thought I would die. It was very sweet of him. And Ol' Sked's DNA showed he was 17% Husky, so that explained his reluctance to eat anything reasonably priced, and why he was so vexing about going upstairs. To the end, he was as stubborn as the last pea on the plate.
ANYWAY.......
The shelter advertised Zinny as 10 years old. It was almost impossible for a Lab to get pregnant at 10.
She also had bad arthritis, and her ears were stinky and chronically infected. I'm sure KVHS advertised her as 10yo to weed out people who read "Lab" and thought Zinnia was a young, lively, carefree dog she could never be.
I estimated her to be about 8 when we got her.
My assessment? Zinnia was a Mill Mom for a back yard breeder. And when Zinnia weaned her last possible litter, the breeder didn't want the pesky expense of feeding her or any vet bills for the rest of her life. That would cut into the profits. So would medicine for her chronic ear infections and arthritis. There was only so much money to get high on.
So her owners did what any reptile lacking empathy did. They abandoned her in an alien, dangerous, and terrifying place and forgot all about her.
I hate those cowards. The fact that they probably picked up a breeding dog on the way home after abandoning Zinny to keep the pup-money coming in made me furious.
I unhealthily dwelled on that over and over.
The ultimate cruelty for Zinny is that someone loved Zinny. Someone taught her to walk on a leash, and wait for her food. Someone socialized her. Someone gave her a microchip. Someone taught her to come, stay, lie down... and they taught her to cuddle.
But they didn't do it because she filled soft parts of their hearts with happiness. They did it because they needed a well behaved "Mom" to sell their puppy cash machine. Only to abandon her 8 years later when she was out of cash. That "someone" was human offal.
Yet ironically, I'm almost grateful to them because we have her now, and she fills many, many soft spots in our hearts by doing nothing other than being her sweet self.
And Zinny loves me. I know that for certain because just look at this picture:
ZINNY'S LIFE AT CHEZ SALTY
Zinnie started her life at Chez Salty like so many other dogs - by biting Fudgie. I think she thought he was a stud dog and told him she wasn't ready the only way she knew how. Fudgie cowered from her for the rest of the week.
Fudgie's greatest attribute is what his (responsible) breeder described him as - forgiving.
The next day, Fudgie had forgiven Zinny and just wanted to play with her. He must have brought every single dog toy and tennis ball to her and waggled them in her face. It was the same thing Pup Fudge tried with Auggie until Auggie bit him for the second time. Auggie and Fudgie are best buddies now. Forgiving.
Over the course of several days with Fudgie shoving toys in Zinny's snout, she started to play. Fudgie has an amazing sense of play. He plays aggressive - taking some toys from her, and letting her win other tug sessions submissively. Regardless, he prances around her with toys until she gets up, barking and nipping at him as he runs by.
I give Fudgie a lot of shit for being dumb, but I really have to hand it to him. He wants to play. And he's also willing to train an older dog to that end.
DID YOU KNOW ZINNY:
(1) Runs like a damaged oil railcar wobbling off the tracks? She would be worse than Buddy in this respect except you could hear Ol' Buddy's bones creaking and grinding against one another as he loped along, legs flying in random arthritic directions.
I have never seen Zinny run more than 50ft for anything, further fortifying the racial stereotype that Yellow Labs are lazy, shedding, couch potatoes. Come to think of it, Fudgie lives up to the Chocolate Lab stereotype of being hyper batshit crazy. And Auggie is a goofy-smart English Black Lab.
(2) Jumped up into Liana's car unbidden from the get-go, yet refused to hop up in my truck for the longest time? I think it was because Fudgie readily hopped up in my truck and she loathed Fudgie. Or it might be because we brought her home in Liana's car, and she thought my truck would take her away from her new home. I understand if you are laughing because of my earlier assessment of Teddy.
No amount of coaxing, yelling, or treats would get Zinny into my truck. That equalized somewhat now that Zinny determined I'm not some kind of angry, Neanderthal male Biped. At least not the type that hates her.
My ace in the hole is that I give out way more Pup Cups than Liana. I think now Zinny just wants to sit up in front with me because she tries to jump up into the drivers seat, gets stuck there and refuses to come down.
(3) Scratches her ears obsessively? Dr. Domeyer says it's because she lived with an almost constant ear infection in both ears for her whole life. Of course her previous owners couldn't afford Zymox, lest they get less high on less drugs.
(4) Hides in another room when I raise my voice, swear, or get angry? It's a pretty stark lesson about how intimidating my voice can be. It doesn't even matter whether I'm happy or angry. She's afraid.
Afterwards, I feel like a shit and visit her wherever she is. I lie down next to her and let her know with gentle belly rubs that I'm not angry at her, but the 12th robocall from Spectrum Internet and the fact Liana ate my the last of my Chunky Monkey.
(5) Is a bone collector? She brings all the old, chewed-over dog-bones lying around Chez Salty into a pile and gnaws on them. Especially in the TV room when we're trying to watch TV. They're mostly old bones, but Auggie once snapped at her trying to steal his. She got the lesson quick. It's the same quickness she learned Fudgie could be bullied out of his dog bone pretty easily.
And that's the world of dogs, right? No concept of size or age. Just whether you can defend your dog bone hoard convincingly.
Sometimes Zinny will fall asleep on a pile of them in the living room like Smaug the Dragon.
(6) Has taken over pack-warning barking from Auggie? Now that Aug has added Laryngeal Paralysis to his list of myriad health problems, Chez Salty needs a dog to warn us of UPS drivers and squirrels when the wind changes direction in Dover-Foxcroft.
The other day, Zinny was sleeping peacefully in the sun out back on a bed in about 15F degrees of temperature. I heard her start to bark her head off and went out to see what was wrong. There were two older women, one over the fence trying to reach out and get at her. The other scowling and otherwise frumpy on the street.
Thinking this woman was trying to steal Zinny, I screamed in the most delicate way I could, "WHAT IN THE NAME OF WHAM! IS GOING ON OUT HERE?!!"
The woman over the fence started in about how cold Zinny was and what a monster I was to keep her tied up out here on a ripped-up dog bed whilst I was inside in the nice warm store.
I tried to explain Zinny wasn't tied up and wanted to be out in the sun. She could just bark once and I'd let her in. Over The Fence Woman (OTFW) was having none of it. She knew my dogs much better than me. She yelled, "If You're Cold, They're Cold!" I said Zinny wasn't cold - she had a double coat and was more like a seal than a dog.
Just as I was telling her about the thermal properties of Huskies, Fudgie came out and ran right over to OTFW. Fudgie had his beloved Yeti and shoved it in her crotch. Then he started jumping up on her, wanting to play.
In any other circumstance, I'd yell "DOWN!" But not this time. Zinny started barking again. OTFW became increasingly frustrated until she awkwardly gripped the gunwales of my truck on her way over the fence meant to keep her out. Then she was back into the general public where she joined her scowling friend for an otherwise pleasant walk down to the waterfront.
That called for a round of smoked duck feet and me filching Liana's coveted Tiramisu in the fridge. Eat the last of my Chunky Monkey? That's what you get, my beloved Itch.
(7) Does back-wrigglies on just about any surface, every chance she gets?
(8) Zinny is the best road trip companion EVER? That's only because of racial stereotypes that Yellow Labs are lazy couch potatoes that sleep all the time. And all those years of constant pregnancy gave her a gigantic bladder.
MAN'S BEST FRIEND? PSYCHO-GIRLFRIEND? WIFE?
From the first moment we brought Zinny back to Chez Salty, I felt like we'd had a relationship for a long, long time. Even longer than Liana and me.
Aeons, to use an Auggie word.
But what kind of relationship?
MAN'S BEST FRIEND
Zinny stares at me constantly. When I look back at her, she squints, smiles, and and wags her tail. I'll say "Good Morning!" from the bedroom at 6am and hear her wagging her tail against the couch in the living room. When I finally get up, she runs into the bedroom and gets so excited she starts scratching her ears. That morphs into her obsessively licking her private parts and I have to step over her if I want to get out of the bedroom in under an hour.
That devotion can also be pretty unnerving. When we first got her, I'd get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. When I flushed, I'd hear her tail go "thump, thump, thump..." against the wall and think something was wrong with the plumbing. I'd go back to bed, infected with insomnia, listening for the same "thump... thump... thump..." in the pipes for the rest of the night.
PSYCHO GIRLFRIEND
These days, when I'm getting the shop ready to open, she'll growl at me if I'm being too slow getting her daily pig ear. At first I was alarmed we'd gotten an aggressive dog, but she's just really vocal. Like a Psycho Girlfriend.
And if I'm not getting her message to hurry the hell up, Zinny will growl and bounce up and down on her front feet. If I'm delaying her pig ear in the extreme by doing unnecessary things like opening the shop door or getting the register set up, she'll growl, bounce up and down, and bark at me to get the lead out. OR ELSE.
Psycho, indeed.
WIFE
Zinny will not growl at Liana the way she growls at me. That's because Zinny and I are married, and I need constant, persistent pressure from her to do the right thing by her. Or maybe Liana is much quicker than I am at getting her food.
This becomes evident when there are higher stakes events at Chez Salty like Dog Birthdays.
I tease all our dogs mercilessly from sun-up by loudly saying, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" and "WHO WANTS DOG CAKE?" They know exactly what I'm saying. I whip them into a frenzy until Zinny growls, hops up and down on her front paws, and barks at me.
She's absolutely terrifying like a good wife should be. Click on the video below to experience the terror first hand.
THE ZEN OF ZINNY
In closing, I'd just like to wish every dog lover a dog like Zinny. She is the easiest dog we've ever owned. Don't get me wrong. Liana and I have loved seven dogs - 3 bred, and 4 rescues. Zinny by far places the fewest demands on us.
Our other dogs demanded things from us all the time. It could be maddening. Max stared at me until I gave him dinner... Auggie wouldn't get back in the car he didn't have enough fetch... We couldn't keep Coal out of muddy puddles and marshes... Buddy couldn't walk on a trail without getting lost... Teddy wouldn't go up stairs... And Fudgie? Well, Fudgie's problems are well documented.
But unless I'm winding her up, Zinny asks for nothing.
She's happy napping on the couch, in my truck or on the hard floor. She especially likes to harvest warm sunbeams on those naps. But they're not necessary at all.
She's happy ambling around a field, beach, trail... wherever...
She's happy eating whatever she gets. Whenever she gets it. And she asks for no more.
She smiles a lot, especially at me.
She wants only to be with us.
She makes me smile a lot.
And, like the rest of us, she just might get used to Fudgie.
Happy New Year, Everyone!
-- Don (Not a Dog)