Category: Dogs

Not long after Toby came to live with us, I took him for his first Italian Greyhound play date. It did not go very well. I took him to another one later on and he was equally meh about the whole thing. 

In the interim, I had his bad tooth removed and put him on thyroid medication which trimmed him down and increased his energy levels. We kept getting invited to the play dates, but for various reasons I wasn't able to take him to one this year—until last weekend.

A couple from the Italian Greyhound community invited Toby to a play date in honor of one of their dog's birthdays. I had the day free, so I loaded him into his carrier in the car and off we went.

He had a BLAST! Finally my desire to get him to run around and play with his own kind had come to fruition. He wasn't as fast or playful as some of the younger dogs, but he ran around with a smile on his face the whole time. 

He was even game to wear a party hat. I put it on him and he happily ran around with it on his head for a good 20 minutes or so. It eventually slid over one ear so he looked especially rakish, but he was unbothered.

Photo credit: Cassandra J. Cameron

He did draw the line at "bobbing for weenies" wherein pieces of hot dog were dropped into a kiddie pool for the dogs to retrieve. Toby loves food, but not if it means water is going to touch his body. He managed to score a piece of hot dog anyway, which he successfully gummed into submission before any of the other dogs could grab it away.

Photo credit: Kara Erikson

He had such a good time that now I feel bad about how boring his daily life must be. He sometimes tries to play with the cats, but they have yet to figure out each others' playing styles.

Last night he asked to be taken out in the yard, so we wandered around fruitlessly for a while until I finally took him back in. My theory is that he just wanted something else to look at.

Then I walked out the front door on my way to get dinner and he bolted past me and ran up the street! I had to chase him almost a block because he was on some kind of dog mission. Dog owner guilt caused me to take him for a walk up the street after dinner even though it was ridiculously hot and humid. That seemed to satisfy him.

Since he's clearly up for dog activities now, that changes quite a bit about my plans with and for him. For starters, I'm going to start identifying the local dog parks that have enclosed yards for small dogs (he can't run free because, as a sighthound, he's liable to run off). I'm also going to try to get to the Italian Greyhound play dates more often.

Then there's next year's BlogPaws Conference in Nashville. Yes, he's going with me. There may need to be a mild tranquilizer involved for the car trip each way, but I'm finally going to get to take him along. I can't wait!

It was fall of 2012 when I realized that Toby was a land monster compared to other Italian Greyhounds after I took him to his first breed-specific playdate.

Several people suggested to me then that he might have thyroid issues, but at the time his more pressing problem was a bad tooth. Sure enough, once we had his tooth removed, a lot of inflammation throughout his body subsided and he got less chubby.

On his most recent vet visit, the doctor brought up his thyroid and recommended that we do some blood tests. I had always thought that the thin fur on his head and back were the result of alopecia, which is quite common in the blue Italian Greyhounds, but the vet thought that his thyroid was the culprit for that as well.

Sure enough, he tested low and we started him on thyroid medication. Almost immediately, his fur began to fill in as his extra weight started to drop off.

He's still a bit heavier than he might be, but he's looking much better. He's about to go up to a slightly higher dose of his meds, so that should help his coat grow in even more than it already has.

The only downside of the thyroid medication is that it seems to have increased his energy levels. That's fine during the day, but less fine when he pops up like a jack-in-the-box every time he hears a noise all night long.

Still, I'm glad he's looking and feeling so much better. He's my boy!

Years before I got Toby, my company tried the whole "bring your dog to the office with you" thing for a while. I don't know specifically where it all went wrong, but I do know that it didn't last long.

Fortunately, my pets are so pampered that they didn't even notice. Take, for instance, yesterday morning when I tucked in the dog and Dr. Jones before I left for work.

Then there's the Italian Greyhound playdate I took Toby on a couple of weekends ago. He's not great with the socializing, but I did coax him into the yard a few times.

Eventually he went full wallflower and removed himself from the proceedings until I took him home. The dog above him on the stairs was similarly over it.

At home, he's spoiled rotten, though. Here he is chilling on the bathroom rug after a long walk.

Inspired by Noodleroux's example, I will now seal my status as crazy pet lady by listing for you the various nicknames that I call Toby.

• Tobester(s)
• Tobesteroo
• Doggers
• Doggeriffic
• Doggeroo
• Toby Toadstools
• Doggeree, Doggerrah, Doggeree, Doggera-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha (more his theme song than an actual nickname)
• Little Dog Man

And that's just the dog. Imagine what it's like when the five cats get involved! I'm going to go sit down now.

Oh hey, it's not too late to enter to win a Logitech mouse!

So you know about Dogshaming, right? Possibly the funniest blog I've discovered in a long time. Don't click the link unless you have lots of time on your hands because you'll be reading for hours.

This post is not about Toby doing anything for which he needs to be ashamed. (Not that he doesn't do some of those things, but that's another story.) No, this is about me being ashamed that I let him get ridiculously fat again.

Today I went to an Italian Greyhound playdate arranged by Kansas/Missouri Italian Greyhound Rescue. Even before I took him, I was fretting on Facebook that he was awfully porky. Sure enough, when I got there, he was by far the most corpulent of all of the several dozen dogs there. No other dog in the group was even close.

As soon as we arrived, people started exclaiming about how "solid" he was. I got well-meaning advice about thyroid testing. And I could see it plainly. I'd known he was overweight, but until I had other Italian Greyhounds to compare him to directly, I didn't realize he was that overweight.

That means it's time for decisive action. We did our 3.4 mile walking route this morning, which I was already planning to reinstate as a regular daily thing. I also swapped out the 1/2 cup scoop in his food container for a 1/3 cup one. 

Toby will never look like the fine-boned, show-quality IGs. He's taller and has sturdier legs and a much wider chest than most of them. However, there were a couple of dogs in attendance that had a similar build to his without the extra chub, so it was a nice preview of what I could possibly achieve with him.

I'm sorry, little dog man. We're going to get you moving, make sure your thyroid is working right and work on finding some lower calorie treats to reward you when you're good. Obviously I'm still figuring out this dog owner thing.

Today marks one year since we brought our little doggers home. It took everyone a while to settle in, but I think we've developed a pretty good routine and he seems to love us a great deal.

We have lots of daily rituals. He and I usually go to bed around 10:00 p.m. and he paws at the blanket until I lift it up so he can go underneath and curl up against my ribs. 

Right now his inner alarm clock is set for exactly 6:35 a.m., and that's the time he crawls out from under the covers and gives himself a good tag-jingling shake. I grab my glasses and spend a few minutes talking to him and cuddling before we go outside for his morning constitutional.

He gets his breakfast when we go back in and I take him out one more time before I leave for work. He receives a Virbac chew stick as a reward for that piece of doggie business, which keeps him busy while I'm making my way out the door.

Barring long walks, which have fallen by the wayside a little due to a combination of overly hot weather and chronic foot pain on my part, we still have a lot of places to walk up and down our street and one street over. He likes to greet Dolly, the shih-tzu next door. I do my best to steer him away from another neighbor's giant pit bull because Toby doesn't have enough sense not to bark and carry on when we see bigger dogs.

I imagine he sleeps most of the day in his bed on the couch, but sometimes he plays chase with the cats (particularly Dr. Jones and Velvet) or chews his stuffed toys first. My husband gets up in the mid- to late-afternoon and takes him for his next potty break.

Suppertime is a little more complicated. Because my husband and I tend to stay pretty busy in the evenings, Toby gets double-fed more often than is good for him. I think we need something like this to keep track.

If the birth dates listed on his paperwork are correct, he's now nine years old. He's gotten a lot more white hairs in the past year, but I'm sure that the transition from the home he'd had all his life to our house must have been stressful. 

The new vet has given him a more or less clean bill of health, but we do need to have his teeth and ears cleaned soon and I'll probably have them remove a couple of small skin growths while he's already out. I hope he gets to keep his few remaining teeth. The poor little guy has so few that his tongue hangs out whenever he's relaxed or sleeping.

House training is still a constant struggle. Some days he's perfect and other days he's inexplicably bad (and sneaky about it, too). Things have gotten a lot better since we instituted a treat reward system, though. He's improved enough that I'm ready to do a good kitchen floor scrubbing and re-sealing of the slate this weekend.

Ultimately, the best thing about having Toby in our lives is the companionship. He loves to hang out with us. He has his own chair in the TV room (stolen from poor Trillian) where he lies so he can be with us while we're watching television. Wherever we are, that's where he wants to be. The cats are like that as well, but the dog takes it up a couple of notches.

I'm glad we're able to be Toby's family in his later years. He's cute, cuddly and a fun little buddy to have.

Happy First Gotcha Day Anniversary, Toby!