Trippin’ to Virginia

So it’s been a hella long weekend – considering it started on Wednesday. Chaka and I made our way down to Virginia for my friend’s graduation from University of Mary Washington. There she learned not to pull while getting walked on a leash thanks to choker collar and ‘turn-the-other-way’ training techniques. Thanks to some random chick, she also got untrained from her name…but I have been working all day to correct that problem. I have learned since that she is overwhelmed by a large amount of people, and also that she plays rough – and doesn’t fully realize bite inhibition yet.

Last night we arrived home and Lucky’s reunion with her went fairly well. They got into a tiff this morning, but nothing serious. I think it was more my dad starting some trouble due to lack of understanding of dog’s hierarchy (and that Lucky is not necessary the top dog). So far its back to peace in the land of the Gurevich house.

Me and my dad are beginning to re-train her jumping now though, aka she will be ignored when we enter the room to show she’s not the alpha here and that she can’t jump when she wants to on who she wants. It’s from an interesting dog training book I am reading at the moment. When I have more time, I will go into greater detail. Right now just trying to sum up all my over-loaded thoughts from this weekend and this morning before I head down to Long Island for a day or two with the devil-bitch.

She is really a fucking hand-ful at times too. I was exhausted yesterday but felt bad keeping her in her crate, but I was literally crying from being too tired to deal with shit. It gets hard at times. My heart goes out to housewives everywhere.

Anyways, despite my dads protests of my dog lacking protective instincts, being a punk, being tiny, and other strange complaints – I think he likes her deep inside. The protest “why does she lick me…I only gave her 2 treats” does not seem like one from a man who actually dislikes the beast.

Anyways that is all I have time for, will return later to chronicle the chronicles.

PS…what is it about an 11 year old male dog that makes him hump a 6 month old bitch’s face?

Training the Fuzz

Well, snuggle time was up this morning for the newest member of our family. Not that she was ready for it to be over. Little miss princess stayed in bed for an extra half hour after I had gotten up. She snuggles at night right up against me – so cute!

Anyways we got up and Lucky and her were getting along better. I had taken her out after my dentist appointment to train her a little around my block. I could hear my dog outside barking his head off all the way down the block when it stopped. Chaka and I headed back up the hill and guess who was there: Lucky! He had escaped from the backyard to come and meet us on our walk. I have since fixed this problem – but what a munchkin. It was funny to see the both of them walking side by side, sitting at my command. They get along much better when busy with commands. I’ve been abusing this for sure.

I took her to the park and used the trainer’s tips to get her to learn her name and come to me. I would call her name and get her to come, and then shove a cookie in her face and let her enjoy. Then off she goes. We did this many times – and it worked all but two times when she ran too far to hear…or at least I will give her the benefit of the doubt. She even started sprinting my direction. It’s really cute.

Anyways, Lucky is so exhausted he can hardly stand. The little brat is mouthing on everything around her that she can find. I think she’s a tad younger than 6 months actually but we don’t know. I have decided for sure that she is a Basenji mixed with a Staffordshire pit bull terrier – I have seen pictures online of other dogs, and descriptions – and she matches them perfectly! Anyways, I’m completely exhausted and going to go chill on the couch and watch some TVs.

OKing home for fuzzes

So that is Ruthie, aka dog with no name. I just had my house check by Benni, who is a really nice although somewhat stressed lady. Her poor dog Booboo (maybe?) is very sick with sarcoma and has only a little bit of time left to live. She really wants to spend more time with her fuzz, but it’s hard when you are also trying to find good homes for pits! So she came by today and we had a nice talk about how to introduce Ruthie and Lucky, about me moving her, about how to do homechecks – since I will most probably be helping her with some in the future. I will probably be picking her up tomorrow and I am really excited. I don’t know if I should pick her up in the morning to have my mom here during the introduction. I have to drop my dad off at the airport so I would have to take her with me. Or pick her up when I come back, take her to the park and wear her out. Maybe chill with Claudia somewhere until my mom comes home and only then introduce them? Still thinking it over. Anyways, I have been OKed and I am so uber excited!

Oh, on the name search – I still have to settle with a decision. Here is the list of potential names:

• Iti (means with me in Hebrew)
• Keena (means judged in Hebrew)
• Nissa (means sign in Hebrew)
• Sheba (means daughter of an oath in Hebrew)
• Simcha (means joy in Yiddish and Hebrew)
• Nessa (means miracle in Hebrew)

So, that’s all of them so far. Maybe we will ask Ruthie (aka dog with new name soon!) which one she prefers!

I have to go to the library but it closes in 15 minutes. Maybe I will go back to Barnes N Nobles. Get a book about training with crates and what not. Start reading. I have to buy her some food, toys, a crate, a bed, a collar and leash – all the good things in life. I do have a feeling I will be spoiling this one rotten!

OG Fuzz meets NG Fuzz

So…today was a decision day. I took my dog, Lucky, over to ______ Animal Hospital to introduce him to Ruthie (aka. no name) to see how they would get along. Because my dog is calm and likes other dogs just to chill out and be happy, I was a little worried. After all, an energetic 6 month old puppy is not quite what I would call “calm”. However, after the initial butt sniffing, my dog gave up caring about this other dog. Ruthie decided this was a good time to jump all over me and say hello – this didn’t phase my dog either. He was busy sniffing dog pee in the yard in front of the vet office. When Ruthie decided to jump on his head and then his shoulders, my dog seemed a bit taken a back the first moment. Immediately afterwards though, he decided this was a great position to fully check out Ruthie’s crotch. And when he was done investigating this and Ruthie jumped on his head anyways, he didn’t seem to care at all. She was happy to meet him, he seemed amused if not uncaring to the situation. All in all, a positive step in the right direction.

Now I am waiting for a call back from _____, from the _____ Breed Rescue on what she thinks of my adoption application that I sent her last night. And then I guess the next step will be the meet and greet on my property – since we’ll never really know how they will be at home until we try. Perhaps an overnight stay that may turn permanent. Don’t know yet.

However, at the moment, I must go back to jet off to Long Island to visit the other three shelters there in case this doesn’t pan out. Probably I will only end up seeing one shelter by the time I get there and see the other two tomorrow. Either way, I am excited since I will be going to a carnival with Kerri, my wife! Probably going to chill with a few of my other friends while I am there. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my Hofstra friends, so I am excited.

No Time to Fuzz?

I don’t know how this is possible, but I seem to have no time to fuzz. The fuzz lays there with his sad eyes staring at me as I run around doing stupid things all day. Everytime I go to pet the fuzz, I am called away to do some mind-numbingly, useless, irritating errand/call/to get bitched at. Not that starting a blog has helped – but it relieves the stress so that I don’t overpet the fuzz when I happen to have time to pet the fuzz. The fuzz, however, does need petting. More like grooming. His fur is everywhere – coming out in huge clumps and small pieces all day long. He must be shedding pounds just from losing fur alone (he’s also on a diet cause he’s a fatass as mentioned earlier).

Speaking of, I have just changed his food regimen for the upteenth time in weeks. He has no Artemis dry food and some Purina Veterinary Diet OM (Overweight Management) that has almost no fat in it whatsoever. He seems not to mind. Probably from the fish oil I put on his food. DAMN, does that stuff reek. If you get it on your hands – beware! for everything you touch shall smell like fish for days.

Anyways, I am attempting to get a hold on all the stupid little errands in my life so that I have time to clean my room and see what I need to buy or sell or get rid of or throw away before I move. But as you may or may not know, these little things seem to multiply the more you do them. For instance, I paid my cell phone bill only to have two letters to write for the company I work for (sort of) and sort out four more bills for them. Once I sorted their bills, before I had a chance to write their letters, I urgently have to sit on a phone trying to figure out why Delta is being a douche – yet again. Immediately afterwards, my mother needs my help to find people who are mushroom hunting. While my dad wants to know why I haven’t paid my American Express yet. It’s an insane kind of warphole where the more you try, the more you have to try…and the farther you fall from your goal. On the bright side, after two weeks of battle – I have almost nixed all the stupid stuff and will soon begin the perilous journey of uncluttering the mess in my car, garage, attic, and room. Wow, am I NOT looking forward to it.

For the first time in about eight years, I have changed my screen name. From my previously loved i3luntGod, I have upgraded to fuzzz machine in honor of my new chronicles. Now all that’s left is to inform my friends and actually have buddies on my buddy list. Some more stupid stuff to add to the list. Poor fuzz machine – needs his fuzzing as much as I need to fuzz. Having an addiction requires much organizing nowadays. Those lucky alcoholics, they lose their jobs and have all the time in the word…but what about us???

The Fuzz of my Life

So, to begin to explain the current situation I am in…I must first explain to you the fuzz pictured above (circa 2003). To catch you up to speed – he is much fatter, older, and grayer now. With a helluvalotta more personality than ever before. His name is Lucky. That name came about due to a lack of creativity in the mind of a ten year old when told she must pick a name that begins with an L. The reason that his name had to start with L is simple: to register a dog in Germany, you combined his parents first names and his sire’s name began with an L. I can’t tell you his whole name because I’ve been unable to pronounce it and have thus, forgotten it. Lucky was the first word that began with an L that we said out loud that the then-two-month-old responded to. That is how a not-so-lucky dog got named ‘Lucky’.

I guess you are now wondering the answer to the following question: Why is he in America if his parents are from Germany?

Well, to answer truthfully, the question itself is false. His sire is a world champion purebred German Shepherd who was born, bred, and shown in Germany. He won many show titles. His mother, however, is from Russia where she also showed and won many awards. His daddy won and won. Then one day while being shipped, he managed to get out of his crate. Unfortunately for him (or not), there was a bunch of kielbasa in the shipping container next to him. He gorged himself until the handlers finally got to the destination and unloaded him. By then, he was so full – he was on the verge of death itself. They brought him to a veterinary clinic where his stomach was pumped. He never quite got back to his previous self after that and was put to stud. Where he met Lucky’s mom. And this is where Lucky’s story starts. Just so you know, his dad was sold to breeders in Japan where last I heard he was living the sweet life of a retired champ.

As for Lucky’s mom, she had a different story. After a normal gestation period she gave birth to her litter. My family had at that time relocated from Brooklyn to bumblefuck, USA (otherwise known as Westport, CT). To make amends to their very pissed off daughter who had to leave behind her friends, the city, and an apartment not completely surrounded by trees, her dad decided to get her a dog. Her years of nagging were about to pay off!

Lucky was taken from his mom just shortly before the two month mark in order not to be detained by quarantine. He traveled in the airplane with his new master in a leather bag, neither defecating nor urinating the entire 10 hour trip from Moscow. At less than two months old!

Everyone always makes animals out to be the ‘inferior species’. I would like to take this moment to point out that this dog was two months old and that a baby of equivalent age (or even older) would be incapable of this task. EVEN MORE THAN THIS, a baby would fail to even realize the concept of ‘holding it in’. 1-0, to the animals.

Back to the story: The airplane landed in JFK where Lucky was released onto the cold tile of the airport terminal. There he did what everyone has done upon their first taste of freedom in the USA: he took a dump of disproportional size to his tiny body. Following this, he was driven home to me, where I was to lay eyes on him for the first time under a lawn chair hiding from the heat of the sun. Shortly thereafter would follow the horrible story of his naming that I have already told you.

Anyways, this is just the beginning of a ten and a half year (well, eleven on July 27th) saga. However, I will have to share the rest of my secrets at some later point in time – because that devilish fiend inside of me, eating away at my insides, is telling me to go fuzz my machine. And I am at it’s mercy. So off I go, to fuzz that giant fuzzy beast.