Tragic Sandwich

Tag: dog

  • Meet Rudy

    There’s never a good time to say goodbye to your pet, and we miss Butch very much. Baguette talks about him and Sundance and Wicket all the time, and our consolation is that she clearly is happy when she thinks about them.

    Have you ever tried to adopt a pet during a pandemic? Turns out, it’s not easy. The shelters are closed, or offer very limited access, and LOTS of people are looking for companionship. Dogs come in, dogs go out. This is great for the dogs! But it was a challenge for us.

    And our needs are a bit more specific than many, because of Baguette. So Mr. Sandwich called a lot of area shelters and asked about a lot of dogs, and either they weren’t available or we knew just from the phone call that they were not a good match for our family.

    We started looking at medium-sized dogs (the small ones are getting adopted lightning-fast), still keeping an eye on temperament. And while we have a real soft spot for old dogs, we have lost three in under five years, and that is a lot of grief. We also started looking at slightly younger dogs — still adults well beyond the puppy stage, but younger than the senior dogs we have adopted in the past.

    We got lucky.

    Rudy is a 7-year-old dog who is part Corgi, part we don’t know, part we really have no idea. He cannot stand other dogs, but he loves people, and he absolutely adores Mr. Sandwich. He is calm about food, he is passionate about going on walks, he has not chewed on plushes or slippers, he absolutely cannot understand why we keep getting up in the middle of the night. (Neither can I, Rudy. Neither can I.)

    We’ve had Rudy for almost four weeks, and we are delighted to have him in the family. And it’s clear that he’s delighted to have a family. Win-win.

  • Last of the Wild Bunch

    We said goodbye to Butch on Saturday. He had a good run — he survived Sundance, who we lost to brain lesions in February 2019, by more than a year. We adopted them in 2015, and gave them both the best we could. Dogs give you so much more, though.

    Butch had been in decline for a while, and for the past couple of weeks we had been working hard to keep him eating. But eventually he would eat — and he could still navigate the dog door and the back steps — so we continued to seek out ways to tempt his appetite and keep him as strong as we could.

    That morning, though, his breathing changed. Overnight he went from bouts of panting to constant panting, his old lungs and enlarged heart unable to move the oxygen he needed through his body. We knew.

    We called the in-home vet, who was able to come just a few hours later. Butch got that chocolate ice cream he always thought we were denying him. We talked to Baguette and had her say goodbye, and when it was done, she told me what we had been telling her: He’s with Sundance.

    So Parker has reunited with Longabaugh, as the last of the Wild Bunch rides off into the sunset.

    small dog being hand-fed

  • Butch and Sundance

    So we really miss Wicket. We probably always will–she was a phenomenal dog.

    But she left a dog-sized hole in our hearts and our home, and there was only one thing to do about that.

    Butch and Sundance

    Fill it with two more dogs.

    Butch (on the left) is a 10-year-old Crested Chinese. He is very chill. Sundance is an 8-year-old Miniature Poodle who gets kind of anxious whenever Butch isn’t around. Apparently they were brought into the animal shelter together, and they were so clearly bonded that there was no way we could imagine splitting them up. So we didn’t.

  • Why Our House Is a Disaster – Weekday Edition

    caution tape

    We’re refinancing, and on a recent Friday, we had a visit from an appraiser. The house was not even remotely clean, although I did set my alarm for 5 a.m. so that I’d have time to at least straighten up the living room (read: put things in stacks). Instead, I was so exhausted that I just kept hitting the snooze button. Sorry, appraiser.

    Mr. Sandwich and I are constantly evaluating the way we spend our time, particularly on weeknights, so that we can finish everything we need to and be ready for the next morning, while still getting Baguette to bed. What does that look like right now?

    5:30 a.m.
    Get up, wash face and brush teeth, unload dishwasher, wash any dishes in sink and put in drain rack to dry, give dog her medicine, open dog door, take one egg out of the refrigerator, put skillet on burner (which is not yet turned on). If it’s a day when we send lunch for Baguette, prep thermos with hot water.

    5:48 a.m.
    Finish bathroom routine. Shower if I’m lucky.

    5:53 a.m.
    Go back to bed to keep Baguette from rolling out; Mr. Sandwich gets up, gets dressed, and leaves for work.

    6:20 a.m.
    Get up, counting on Baguette to not roll out; get dressed, pull her pre-selected clothes/socks/shoes off of the shelf, get diaper and wipes and put them with her clothes, scramble and cook egg, heat up food to go in thermos, put egg in portable container, put food in thermos, assemble her lunch bag, put her breakfast in her tote bag along with anything else needed that day (set out the night before). Put yogurt and granola in my lunch bag if set up the night before; otherwise plan to buy breakfast at work. Feed dog. Make sure back door is locked, cabinets are latched, stove is off, and refrigator is closed.

    6:40 a.m.
    Unplug anything that has been charging overnight and put in handbag. Go back to bedroom and change Baguette’s diaper. Put her pajamas in the hamper and dress her for the day. Comb her hair. After she lies back down, sit her up and comb her hair again.

    6:50 a.m.
    Make Baguette stand up and walk to front door. Pet dog goodbye. Pick up bags, lock door, coax Baguette down steps, put her and bags in car.

    6:55 a.m.
    Arrive at day care. Get Baguette and her bags out of car, sign her in, drop off tuition or hot lunch money or other paperwork as needed, and walk her to classroom.

    7:02 a.m. If I’m lucky.
    Leave day care. Drive to bus stop. Park car, run across street, hope to catch bus. If I do, hope to get seat. If I don’t, drive to work. It’s an hour either way.

    8:05 a.m.
    Enter building. Buy breakfast and coffee, or just coffee if I managed to pack my own breakfast (lunch is even less likely). Go upstairs and work.

    5:00 p.m. Unless I have to work late.
    Leave building. Walk to bus stop. Catch bus home.*

    6:00 p.m. Unless traffic is worse than usual.
    Exit bus. Get in car and drive home.

    6:07 p.m.
    Arrive home. Pet dog hello. Change clothes. Put away any dishes in drain rack. Pour milk into straw cups for evening and next day.

    6:12 p.m.
    Mr. Sandwich brings Baguette home. Feed Baguette as much fruit and/or Goldfish as she will eat.

    6:25 p.m.
    Take Baguette and dog for walk around the block (1/2-mile distance). Discuss day. Encourage Baguette to walk, but carry her for intermittent stretches. Let her run back and forth when the impulse strikes her.

    7:10 p.m.
    Return home. Pull together some semblance of dinner for Baguette while Mr. Sandwich helps her play with the hose (it’s hot out). Start her bath.

    7:20 p.m.
    Change Baguette’s wet clothes and feed her.

    7:50 p.m.
    Mr. Sandwich gives Baguette her bath. Set out her pajamas and nighttime diaper, take dog out, feed dog, close dog door, wash dishes from her dinner, empty her lunch bag and clean containers, straw cups, and thermos, probably wash the skillet from that morning.

    8:05 p.m.
    Dry Baguette off, put her in nighttime diaper and pajamas, let her watch Sesame Street. Continue to prep for next day, gathering any paperwork or materials needed for day care. Eat tortilla with peanut butter (if lucky).

    9:10 p.m.
    Go to bed. All of us, because otherwise Baguette won’t. (Note: That’s “go to bed,” not “go to sleep.” There’s no telling how long that could take.)

    What’s missing from this picture?

    *This is when Mr. Sandwich does as much laundry as humanly possible in 50 minutes. Neither one of us has time to fold it or put it away.

    Photo by skyloader, via Flickr.

  • Sunday Morning Toddler

    “Wicket!”

    “Daddy!”

    “Mommy!”

    “Wicket!”

    “No!” (to offer of water)

    Runs out of room and back in. “Daddy read!” (hands over book but refuses to let either of us read it to her)

    Runs out of room and back in.“Mommy book!” (hands over book but refuses to let either of us read it to her)

    Runs out of room and back in.“Ball!”

    Runs out of room and back in. “Mommy!” (holds out indoor portion of indoor/outdoor thermometer)

    Runs out of room and back in.

    Runs out of room and back in.

    Runs out of room and back in.

    “Wicket!” (picks up dog’s toys one at a time and returns them when asked, albeit increasingly grudgingly)

    Runs out of room and back in. (Sneezes, reaches for Kleenex, takes the one handed to her, drops pacifier on floor, and wipes nose)

    Runs out of room and back in. (Without Kleenex, which we will probably find in or next to the trash can)

    Lather, rinse, repeat.

  • Assorted Thoughts

    This is a weekend of dinners with friends. One was here (love the potlucks–even with a small group, it halves the work) and one is out (love eating at someone else’s house–it removes the work). Last night’s meal: steak and fusilli tossed with spinach, olives, and grilled asparagus. Oh, and a cupcake array from Dots in Pasadena. Let me tell you, those are some good cupcakes.

    Our dog hates her car carrier. I think we’ll replace it with a dog booster seat that will let her see what’s going on and won’t make her feel confined. Just typing “dog booster seat” feels a little ridiculous, though. I started small, by buying her a harness to keep her safely in the booster seat. She seems to like it; I hope it fits right.

    People keep telling me that I don’t look that big. That’s nice, but let me tell you, I feel tremendously pregnant. Changing positions has become a surprisingly difficult undertaking. Thank goodness our couch is so comfortable, since that’s where I’m spending an awful lot of my days lately!

    And it has turned out to be a really gorgeous day in the San Fernando Valley.

  • We Know This Dog

    The previous owner never claimed her, in spite of numerous signs and online postings, and a week in the shelter (for her, not for us or the owner). So we went back to the shelter and picked her up, after which we found a groomer and a vet. She’s too good a dog to leave behind: well-trained, sweet-natured, and affectionate, and immensely fond of walks and tummy rubs. When she rolls onto her back for one of the aforementioned tummy rubs, she looks like an Ewok. Thus, we have named her Wicket. Why, yes, the Sandwiches are total geeks. Why do you ask?

    Both the shelter and the vet estimate that she’s about 12 years old, which may account for her numerous naps. However, if you saw how she bounces when she realizes that you’re going to take her for a walk, you’d never guess that she’s an older dog.

    However old she is, we’re really glad that she’s ours. And she seems to be, too.

  • Do You Know This Dog?

    The dog is very good-natured and affectionate, and seems to have been well-trained and well-loved. Found in the San Fernando Valley at White Oak & Vanowen, on the border of Reseda and Lake Balboa/Van Nuys.