Corporal Fips

It was a bright morning, and I could tell that Fips was hankering for a walk. “Aus-band?” Fips started jumping around, making it more difficult yet to put on his collar. I gathered up my keys and his leash and headed out the door.

Our apartment building is built in the form of a rectilinear “U”, with open air landings flanking the interior courtyard. Four large apartments along the base of the “U”, front out onto the lake. Two smaller apartments on either prong of the “U” look out onto the courtyard. The elevator shaft is located in the middle of the U’s base.

Typically, Fips will chase out the door, turn left and run to the elevator where he waits impatiently for that special grinding-click that tells him the lift has arrived. I’ve always been impressed with how quickly he connected a particular noise, to the approach and arrival of the elevator which he understands is the thing that takes him downstairs which leads to out to where all the sniff n’ piss takes place Anyone who says dogs don’t think, thinks less than a dog.

But this morning .....

Fips chased out the door as usual and suddenly came to a dead stop. There was a momentary silence followed by a very emphatic

Grrrrraaauff!

and

Grrrrrrrrr-grrrrrrr GrrrrAUF!!

What the devil....? I looked around to see what he could be barking at. I didn’t notice a thing. So I looked at Fips to see what Fips was looking at. He was staring very intently at the door to one of the inside apartments diagonally across from the elevator.

????

Grrrrrrrrr-grrrrrrr GrrrrAUF!!

Then I figured it out. He was barking at a large jack-o-lantern pumpkin that the occupants had put by the front door.

Fips was very disconcerted. Fips may not write, but he keeps his accounts. That head without a body was nothing he was familiar with or approved of. It had not been there yesterday. It was not supposed to be there and whatever it was... it was nothing too friendly either.

Grrrrrrrrr-grrrrrrr GrrrrAUF!!

Oh... Fipsie... It’s OK, It’s OK.... C’mon lets go walkie-poo

The elevator made it’s grinding click, I opened the door and Fips trotted in, having made his point and done his duty.

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Stoical Doggie

After taking Fips out for a walk, Michael came running back in, throwing open the door with a bang, and yelling “Fips got stung by a wasp!!”

“So?”

“On his tongue!!” Michael said with exasperation, “help me get it out.”

I ran over and held Fips’s head as Michael got some tweezers and pulled out the stinger. Fips is such a brave doggie, submitting stoically and trustingly to our ministrations.

“Well... all’s well that ends well,” I said.

Michael was not convinced. He worried that Fips, especially since he was still a puppy, could get an allergic reaction that would kill him. Michael’s worry was instantly contagious.

Down to the truck and back to Moraga. Michael holding Fips in his lap and both of us rushed and worried.

Smith examined Fips’s tongue and his swallow. He said that if Fips hadn’t had a more serious reaction by now, the chances were that he wouldn’t have one at all. He recommended some Benadryl for a day or so.

While there, he checked out the umbilical hernia which has gotten smaller. The left testicle is definitely "undescended" and will have to be taken care of. Smith recommends removing both. Michael gets sullen.

Dr. Smith is learning to handle us as soothingly as he handles Fips. Even though we’ve been to his office mostly for routine shots, we do fuss and worry about everything....worms, the umbilical cord, the missing testicle... and now the swollen tongue.

I hope Fips realizes that all this to-ing and fro-ing to Smith’s is because we love him. Probably not, but he seems to like going to vet. Since nothing painful happens, it's all just an outing to him.

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A Brief Separation

At the end of September, I left for a two week trip to Mexico. I had a wonderful time exploring the Oaxaca countryside, but I still missed the Little Mister. On the second day of my arrival, I called home. Michael said Fips had been a little subdued at first but was now fine. On my return, Fips seemed happy to see me, but did not fall into paroxysms of joy. I think I was the happier one. Instead, Fips simply reclaimed his places, under my desk and on the bed.

This would be one of very few times Fips and I would be apart.

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