Should I Stay or Should I Go?

When my husband Augustine and I had been dating for awhile, he mentioned one evening that he and a couple of his friends had been talking about having to sleep with their girlfriend's pet. Apparently, one of them had given his girlfriend the ultimatum of having either him or the cat in bed. Sadly, the girlfriend chose the friend. I knew immediately where the conversation was heading but I allowed Augustine to continue as I remained silent.

"So," Augustine had said,"when I told them that Ripley slept with us, they mentioned that maybe I should give you the same ultimatum."

"Oh really?...Hmm," I said. I paused for a second, then with much deliberation continued, "I've had Ripley much longer than I've been with you, and Ripley and I have been through a lot together. There's no way she's sleeping anywhere else." That was all I had to say and Augustine had never mentioned it again. By the way, my husband doesn't remember that conversation.

Since then, Augustine has changed his tune. It is expected that Ripley sleeps with us, and when she isn't in bed with us for whatever reason, Augustine would get up, find her and bring her to bed. In fact, Ripley chooses to sleep next to Augustine more often than with me. I just don't understand how that happened, but it really gnaws at me sometimes. Can you blame me? She was my dog first!

Needless to say, with the addition of Morpheus and Elektra in our pack, we were cramped in our queen size bed. Lack of space became an issue. Augustine would end up at the edge of the bed, on the verge of falling off and I was usually on my back with one leg draped over Morpheus while the other one underneath Elektra. It was so uncomfortable we barely got sleep. But our dogs slept fabulously.

Sooner than later, sleep deprivation came, and it made me IRRITABLE. Poor Augustine bore the brunt of it. In order to maintain the harmony between us, we bought a traditional king size bed. We needed sleep. It was ridiculous that the dogs were the only ones getting precious sleep, especially since they were at home all day sleeping while Augustine and I worked.

Our new bed looked massive, and it was wonderfully spacious. Certainly, our dogs felt the difference too because they soon started to sprawl out, and Morpheus, our lab/pit mix, was the worst offender. He had a terrible habit of sleeping horizontally in the middle of the bed and was badly influencing Ripley. Yes, even Ripley began spreading her little body between our pillows at the head of the bed. In a short period of time, our bed seemed to have shrunk, and we found ourselves in the same predicament, but to a lesser degree, thank goodness.

Having enough space in bed was a hot commodity, and the dogs were in possession of it. They were usually the first ones in bed which meant they got the best spots. Fortunately, we realized that WE controlled the treats. It was easy to entice them away from their holding, and it worked every time. Hey, it's a fair exchange, what you would call a "win-win" situation. And, I learned to waste no time in claiming my spot in bed, because one time, Morpheus beat me to it. I didn't think he would finish devouring his treat before I reached the bed.

Ripley and Elektra are pretty good about getting up and moving elsewhere in bed. It's Morpheus who is a challenge. You cannot budge that boy when he's fast asleep. He becomes dead weight. You would think that he would wake up as we attempt to move him aside, but he doesn't. Maybe I should, but I don't have the heart to wake him when he's happily snoring away. So, we resort to sleeping around him.

Ahh, but once everyone is in bed and satisfied with his/her wiggle room, it's awesome having the dogs sleep around us. There is a feeling of coziness and warmth that is indescribable, which also has the ability to lull you to sleep. And, there's a sense of bonding and security that you feel with your dogs that I know you cannot feel when you share a bed with people. At least, I don't feel that bond when I have to share a bed with one or two of my sisters.

A problem arises when the urge to pee occurs in the middle of the night. It isn't a problem if Morpheus isn't sleeping next to me. But when he is, I have to think twice about going to the bathroom. There has to be a desperate need to pee.

Recently, I made a big mistake in drinking a ton of water before going to bed. I had run on the treadmill and was very thirsty. But I thought I would be fine since I made several trips to the bathroom before retiring for bed. That night Morpheus decided to sleep next to me. I was snoozing away peacefully until I was awoken by my bladder. Opening one eye, I noticed it was three in the morning. Even though I was half asleep, I was cognizant of Morpheus right against me. He hadn't shifted from his position. So, I asked myself, "should I stay or should I go?" (Just like that song from the 80's by The Clash)

Immediately my mind answered, "Stay, I can hold it for a few more hours. I don't need to go that badly."

Persuaded by my internal voice, I stayed and invited sleep to come back. In less than a minute, my bladder made it known that it seriously needed to release the water it was struggling to hold.

A little worried, because my thought went back to Morpheus, I asked again, "should I stay or go?"

This time my inner voice said pressingly, "You better go. Just go." It sensed that my bladder was rapidly loosing containment.

"Mind over body," I thought. So, I asserted, "I can hold it. YES, I CAN!!...I just won't think about it."

But that's all I could do was think about it. Shortly after, I felt a sharp poke in my bladder.....Oh man, I can't hold it! I really have to go!!! Drats!

There are times when the body will stop listening to the mind and act independently. Truly, the body has its own intelligence.

Not wanting to have an accident in bed, I reluctantly rolled out of it. But before I rushed to the bathroom, I firmly whispered to Morpheus, "You stay where you are. Don't move!"

FYI, in case you didn't know, dogs do not hear negatives, meaning the words "no" and "don't" are not included in their vocabulary. An animal communicator had told me this, and I have also read it in a book. Therefore, if you tell a dog, "don't eat that crap," that dog will go ahead and "eat that crap," because that's what he heard you say.

So, when I returned to bed finding Morpheus in my place, I could only shake my head. Clearly, it was my fault. What did I expect? Weren't my last words to him, "Don't move?" By saying that, he heard me give him the green light to go ahead and move. After all, he is an obedient dog. I could only be mad at myself.

It's a big decision allowing your dog to sleep in bed with you because it WILL affect your sleep. But I find that the positives of having my dogs sleep with me far outweigh the negatives. When I go out of town, and I have to sleep in bed alone, my first thought goes to my dogs. I miss their presence more than my husband's (sorry honey, but it's true). I cannot imagine being without them in bed (or anywhere else really), that's how attached I am to them.

Sleep is just as important to people as it is to dogs. It regenerates us, and it is during sleep when healing occurs in the body if there is an injury or any disharmony. Furthermore, as we sleep, the hormone melatonin is secreted by the pineal gland when there is complete darkness. The presence of light will stop its production. This includes light from the television, cell phone, night light and computer. This hormone helps boost the immune system in both dogs and humans. Studies have shown that insufficient amount of melatonin is associated with breast cancer in female dogs and women. It's a good thing to keep in mind if you fall asleep with the television on.

Love your dog. If you don't have one, adopt or save one. Then, for the sake of yours and your dog's health, make sure both of you get some deep, uninterrupted sleep in total darkness as much as possible.

Thank you for visiting my weekly blog. Any comments are very welcomed!

Pinto is Dead!!!

Let me give you some background information. Pinto was an Australian Shepherd that belonged to my husband Augustine before we dated. I met Pinto only once when I went to Augustine's house for the first time. We were rarely at his house. Because Augustine was at my apartment most of the time, Pinto ran away and was never found. I didn't know that until after Ripley, my black chihuahua, and I moved in with Augustine a few months after we got engaged. I felt extremely bad for Pinto's disappearance.

Now, more than eight years later, we have three dogs who stay indoors when we're not home. Our dogs, Ripley, Morpheus and Elektra are our kids. They sleep with us and have a healthier diet than we do. They are spoiled but that was by choice (my choice, to be honest).

With that said, my story begins. It was a morning in December of last year when I happened to hear a knock on my front door. Of course, the dogs started barking simultaneously. I quickly glanced outside the window and noticed that the gardener was already there working in the front yard. Ordinarily, I would ignore people knocking on my door and allow my dogs to scare them off with their barks. However, I opened the front door assuming it was the gardener with a question for me.

To my dismay and annoyance, the gardener had knocked on my door to let me know that there was someone wanting to talk to me. Urrgh...that someone was a worker from the Animal Services from the City of Los Angeles. I don't remember the guy's name but for the sake of the story, I'll call him "Joe." Joe gave me his spiel about going around the neighborhood making sure that all the dogs were up to date with their licenses. As he talked, my mind became frantic. Knowing that my dogs weren't current with their licenses, I was trying to think of plausible explanations to offer this guy.

After confirming my name and address, Joe said, "So, we have here that you have three dogs, Pinto, Ripley and Morpheus."

"Yes," I replied slowly. But my mind, still churning, thought, "Oh good, maybe I'll just pass Elektra off as Pinto so that he'll leave her alone."

"It shows in our records that the dogs are registered but that you haven't been paying the license fees for them," said Joe, and then told me the number of years I had neglected to pay. He continued, "Mam, you can take care of this now or go in front of a judge."

In front of a judge?!! Really? For neglected renewal fees for my dogs?... And, when in the heck did I become a "Mam"? Okay, I honestly do not mind paying renewal fees for my dogs. They are only fifteen dollars per "altered" dog in the City of Los Angeles. But why wasn't I given a notice? I'd get one from the DMV, Triple A, the Acupuncture Board, etc., and when I do, I would always pay. Seriously, with all the bills that people pay every month, who thinks about the annual renewal fees for a dog license? Obviously, I don't.

Finally, I asked calmly, "So, can you tell me how much I owe?" I was ready and willing to pay.

"Well, since you hadn't been paying for the license fees, there's a penalty of $500 per dog on top of what you owe," Joe simply said.

In a second, my brain had multiplied three by five hundred dollars and deliriously arrived at FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS??!!

Shocked, I blurted out, "But Pinto is dead!!!" (foolishly thinking one less dog equals five hundred dollars less)

"But you said he was one of the three dogs you had," Joe said with confusion.

"Yes, we HAD Pinto," I emphasized, regaining my composure. "But he died a long time ago."

"But, you have three dogs," he said knowingly. He looked at me as if challenging me to deny this fact.

How in the world did he know I had three dogs? Did one of the neighbors tell him? Do these people have that much time looking into people's backyards and counting the number of dogs? I was baffled.

"Ehh...well, yeah. We found a dog in our backyard and we decided to keep her," I said.

Joe opened his pad and started to write. "So, how long have you had her?" he asked.

"Umm, I think we found her.. ehh.. last year," I said hesitantly because I was lying.

Joe asked me all sorts of questions. He wanted to know her name, age, breed, and was she spayed? When I said that she was, Joe wanted the name of the veterinary hospital where it was done. He needed to verify that indeed Elektra was spayed.

Dreadfully, but dutifully, I gave Joe the name and number of the hospital. I knew another lie would be discovered. The truth was we did find Elektra in our backyard and decided to keep her. But we found her at least four years prior. I phoned my husband as Joe called the vet hospital. I told Augustine what was happening and how mortified I felt because Joe would know that once again, I had lied.

"Why didn't you just tell the truth?" Augustine asked me.

"I don't know. I guess I just panicked," I replied. The whole situation was so unexpected.

By the time I got off the phone with Augustine, Joe had also finished with his call to the vet.

"Okay," Joe said, "the receptionist told me that Elektra was spayed in April 2003."

"Oh, wow, hmm," I said very meekly. What could I say? I wanted to minimize further embarrassment.

When Joe overlooked my lies, I realized that his only goal was to extract money from me. He kindly waived the fifteen hundred dollar penalty fee since I was "being so honest" with him. He didn't sound sarcastic when he said that, but then again I was too stressed to notice. In retrospect, Joe probably didn't expect anybody to pay the penalty fee especially in our present economy. But it was a good scare tactic. Hey, it worked with me. Consequently, I paid for the years I was behind for Ripley and Morpheus. However, Joe was very lenient when it came to Elektra. I only had to pay for one year instead of the six years I have had her.

On a side note, I would have had to pay more if my dogs weren't fixed. It's a violation if you have an "unaltered" dog, unless you have the "intact" dog license or a "breeder" permit. Thank god, it was easy to prove that Morpheus was neutered. I just had to parade him in front of Joe to show that he was scrota-less. Poor Morpheus, he was so afraid I was giving him away that his eyes were wide open with anxiety. I had to reassure him that Joe only wanted to make certain he had no balls, literally.

After I had given Joe my check which amounted to almost three hundred dollars, I asked him whether the City of Los Angeles accepted a titer certification in lieu of the vaccination. He had never heard of a titer. So I explained to him what it was.

A titer is taking a sample of blood to determine whether the dog's immunity is high enough so that it wouldn't need to be vaccinated. Dogs and cats are found to be over-vaccinated causing future health problems. Titers are available in veterinary hospitals but you have to ask for them. I usually recommend titers to be done especially for elderly animals. Why would you want to inject toxins in an already weak and possibly comprised body?

My normal habit is to tell the truth, so I tried to understand my dishonesty with Joe. I realized that my behavior stemmed from my desire to protect my dogs from getting the rabies vaccination. I'm not a fan of vaccinations. Yes, dogs should be vaccinated during the first year of their lives but that's it. This is my belief. If you think about children, they are only vaccinated the first few years of their lives. They don't get a yearly vaccination afterwards. Why should animals be different, especially when their life span is much shorter? As much as our dogs protect us, we have a responsibility to protect them in return.

This story came to mind because just a week ago, I FINALLY got a notice for Ripley's license renewal. Since she is fourteen years old, she no longer needs to be vaccinated...that's what Joe told me. You can bet that her renewal fee will be paid. I do NOT want another encounter with Joe.

Love your dog. If you don't have one, adopt or save one. Then, protect them as best as you can because that's what they would do for you.

Thank you for visiting my weekly blog. Any comments are welcomed.

Unconditional Woof! (Love)

I love, love dogs. They are magnificent beings wanting only to love and please. So, it's appropriate that my blog starts today, Valentine's Day, to celebrate dogs and the love they give to all of us. In case you are wondering what my blog is about let me briefly explain. Dogs have so much to teach us about how to relate to each other and live life. This led to my decision to write a blog that focuses on dogs, the many things we can learn from them, the insane things we are willing to do for them, as well as "everything else" that happens in life. If you are a dog lover and owner, you will easily relate. If you are neither, you'll certainly come away with some understanding that perhaps you didn't have before. My intention is to provide insight and humor that will perhaps raise your awareness of who we are as humans sharing this world with our true best friend, the dog.

I want to clarify that I am no dog expert. However, because I work with animals, mostly dogs, providing acupuncture and holistic medicine, the fact that I have three dogs of my own, the studies and observations I have done on them, give me enough credibility when I write about these beautiful creatures.

Because today is Valentine's Day, the topic of unconditional love is most suitable. Have you ever met a person who gave you unconditional love 24/7?...If you were honest, the answer would be "no". If someone said, "yes", you're damn lucky. You have a keeper, because the majority of people give conditional love. I confess that I am guilty of this. Think about it. A person may strive to give unconditional love but the ego, a preconceived notion or an unresolved emotion interferes with her/his thinking and behavior. Many people have a list of criteria they look for in a mate even before the dating process begins. That is very conditional.

Unconditional means no matter how butt ugly or unbelievably gorgeous you are, rich or poor, intelligent or dimwitted, kind or mean-spirited, fat or fit, etc. this person will love you. Know anyone like that? I don't. The only place you will find a person like that is in your fantasy. So, dream on.

With dogs, you will always get unconditional love. ALWAYS! If you stink, they won't care. They'll give you a kiss regardless. Hey, if they can lick their butt, they can kiss you when you smell. Just make sure they don't kiss you right after they have licked their butt. If you're completely broke, it doesn't matter. I've seen a number of homeless people with dogs who seem very content. If you get sick, feeling and looking awful, they will snuggle up to you until you feel better.

When my husband got food poisoning a couple months ago, he was vomiting, moaning and groaning, and the last thing I wanted to do was cuddle up next to him. The aroma of vomit acts as a natural repellent as well as triggers nausea for me. That's just me though. You may be different. But our dogs, god bless them, comforted him the way I couldn't. They slept next to him despite the noise and stench. The best I could do was make my husband ginger tea, put another blanket over him and offer some kind words as he slept on the sofa.

Angry? Dogs will give you the space to cool off when you get mad at them, and afterwards, they will always come to you without resentment, without a grudge, without malice in their hearts. No silent treatment nor a need to get an explanation or an apology for your behavior. Just acceptance and pure, unconditional love in their hearts.

Can you imagine coming home and finding your significant other jumping for joy every time you came home? My husband may greet me that way if he knew I had a winning lottery ticket in my purse. Besides that, I don't think so because even bringing pizza home doesn't do the trick, and he loves pizza. However, my dogs are consistently, and without fail, thrilled to see me each time I come home. That is devoted love for you.

Dogs offer something more precious than anything anyone can buy on Valentine's Day. If we gave our loved ones the unconditional love dogs naturally gave us, we would be less stressed and have more money in our checkbooks (because there would be no guilt to make up for). But seriously, we would have more peace and happiness in our relationships.

Man domesticated dogs to be our hunters, our guards, our companions. I'm quite certain man never expected the love in return. Dogs know how to love. They do it effortlessly and without discrimination. Surely, many of us humans can learn from that.

Love your dog. If you don't have one, adopt or save one. Then get ready to share a love so big (crazy big, really!) that it takes over you, and suddenly you will find yourself doing the "baby talk" to your dog!... Ah, but that's another topic.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Thank you for visiting the first of my weekly blog. Any comments are welcomed.