Covid Puppies – Part IV: Penny Eudora Snaeffels Keenan

Here we are, seven months on. New York summer and Friendly, now named Penny Eudora Snaeffels Keenan, because she is an Icelandic Irish black woman from 1945, is very well settled.

Training started the moment she came into the house last December. She had been in a puppy room with her mother and siblings at the fosters so had never even set foot on grass, been in a house or knew that area rugs are not for toileting. Luckily the greedy pig Labrador in her meant endless kibble and treats would get her toilet trained and tricks ready within a month. Seriously, get a dog for Christmas. Everything will be nailed by New Years.

She is definitely a dog’s dog and other peoples’ dog. She belongs to society. Meaning, she doesn’t like any of us. Does not like to be cuddled, stroked, hugged, snuggled with, whatsoever.

She is so aloof that if you lie next to her on HER stinking dog bed, she will get up and move and lie somewhere else. But she also does not like to be on her own. I get followed from one room to another daily and only a massive walk and play with her best buddy on the street will result in a dog bed coma that stops her following me into the bathroom. She loves other people of course. You know people in society generally, who get jumped on, kissed, licked and hugged. She is an asshole.

This June, just ten days out from going on holiday to the Pacific coast national parks she contracted kennel cough. Quite the feat given she does not go to doggy daycare or the groomers. In fact, I am convinced she got it at the vet when she went it for allergies and was then back again the following week with the kennel cough and resulting pneumonia. Did I mention the vet drives a Tesla? $759 later, she was placed on two weeks of antibiotics. I used three rolls of kitchen paper clearing spit up and because kennel cough is so contagious, doggy boarding or in fact any boarding facility would not take her. So, our holiday to Seattle was cancelled. She is a burden.

The result of her illness had the added benefit to her of us all going completely gaga and waiting on her hand and foot. She got hand fed. We gave her boiled chicken, rice and vegetables to keep her stomach settled while on the harsh antibiotics. We made her “pupsicles”, out of peanut butter, watermelon, yoghurt and banana to sooth her cough. The kids lay next to her and cuddled with her to make her feel better. If she had any energy, she probably would have preferred to bite them, but lethargy prevented that. We took turns sleeping downstairs with her to make sure she wasn’t ill during the night, or her breathing didn’t become labored. One night my husband didn’t even crate her but slept on the sofa while she was on her bed stretched out, to help her breathing. She began to recover within 48 hours and while the demise of our holiday was a huge disappointment, we were happy to be home looking after our little Penny. She needed us.

A week later I was intent on losing her in the street accidentally on purpose. The indulgence she received which was for her benefit of course, but also for ours if there is such a thing as non-consensual dog cuddling, resulted in she did not want to sleep in her crate anymore but lie out on her dog bed, wake us up every morning at 5:40am because she now needed to pee two hours earlier than she had the six months prior, have someone near here at all times but no affection allowed, lick herself so loudly at 4:45am she wakes me up and rug regurgitation was de rigeur. She was as manipulative as the child that wanted her.

On top of that we were convinced the rescue had told us giant lies about her breed. You know with the rescue it is going to be a crapshoot as to what you are getting because many of the dogs have been abandoned, are strays or are knocked up so any ideas about breed history is often a guess. We are more and more sure that not only is she Labrador and Pointer, but we can definitely see some Staffordshire Terrier and more worrying, Great Dane in those ridiculous back legs of hers. She trots as opposed to walks which makes me wonder if she is also part dressage pony. When she runs, she drops her back legs paraplegic style, which could imply whippet or greyhound. Her look also depends on whether she is ears back or front. Front, Labrador. Back, Pitbull dog fight toddler killer.

Given I wanted a medium sized dog around the 25-40 lb mark and am going to end up with a dog around 60-70 lbs, I really arsed this up.

Luckily there are breed DNA kits that you can purchase that can answer all these questions for you. The best on the market and generally considered the most accurate and detailed is Embark. Just a snip at $199.00 or on Amazon Prime Day $159.00 but I refuse to give Jeff one more cent of our hard-earned cash, so he can wear a jack ass Stetson in space.

Unfortunately, being a colossal tight arse means I will have to spend the next 16+ years constantly speculating and boring friends and neighbors with the same conversation as to whether when she is full grown, I will be able to walk her or ride her.

She is the most wonderful addition to our family. They can pretend she belongs to all of us but while she probably likes me least, she is definitely my dog and I adore her, even though her bits licking sounds like an orbital sander at 4am and I am now wearing earplugs.