Azuki and Puppy-Still-With-No-Name

On Sunday we paid a visit to Travis' new pup, a shiba puppy that unforunately still has no name. A naming contest went around their office, and although more than a few dozen names were suggested, nothing has yet been decided. We all felt strongly that since it is a Japanese breed dog born in Japan, he should have a Japanese name. I suggested names from Japanese anime, such as Totoro (a gray forest creature), Haku (boy from Spirited Away), or perhaps something totally unconventional, like Mo-fo. I mean, can you imagine telling other people your dog's name if he had a name like Mo-Fo? This would come in extremely handy when your dog does something naughty: "Where is that mo-fo?" or "Get over here you mo-fo you!" I don't think I would ever be able to stop snickering.

But since the shiba puppy still has no name, we resorted to calling him "puppy," "dog," "inu," or just, "boy."

Because Travis had warned me that "inu" doesn't seem to like other dogs, I was expecting him to perhaps bark and growl, or at least act a little aloof, when we introduced him to Azuki. However, he actually turned out to be quite the socialite. The pups were a little uncertain with each other first, but after performing the greeting ritual (i.e. butt-smelling), they broke into endless play fighting, pro-wrestiling, and lots of chasing each other around. The Shiba pup was also very friendly and happy to see us humans, although it is teething big time so a couple of times when I tried to pet him, he made semi-permanent indents on my hands. This guy might still be tiny (not even a quarter of the size of Azuki, as you can see from the photo), but what he lacked in size, he made up in fiestiness. He was a bundle of unbridled energy, and if he did't want to let go of a toy or be held, he didn't hesitate to let you know--mostly with his VERY SHARP TEETH. In fact, when we gave him a pig ear to chew on, he liked it so much that when Travis, his master, went over to pet him, he barked and walked away from him. A MAJOR DISS, I would say.

The pups played so hard, that, combined with Azuki's long walks that day, she was utterly exhausted when we got home. I didn't think much of it since she habitually rips around the room until she uses up the last ounce of her energy and falls into a sudden heap unto the floor in a big, loud, thud. But this morning, She was acting lethargic, and I thought perhaps she just needed more sleep, until I realized that she wasn't eating. She had left her biscuit untouched from when Matt left early in the morning, and then refused her breakfast at 9:30am. Now, this is VERY uncharacteristic of our dog, as Azuki usually devours her food in several large, chewless gulps. Although she could be finicky about her treats, she NEVER refuses a single kibble of her dog food.

So with such a food-oriented dog, you can imagine how worried I was when she skipped a meal. But the real panick ensued when I came home and realized that she hadn't touched her cream-cheese filled kong. She also hasn't drank much water all day and was unusually quiet. It was then that I truly believed my dog was going to die.

The possible causes of her inevitable and impending death that went through my mind included:
1. puppy-no-name transmitted some rare and incurable disease because he was a pet store bought dog and of course they all carry the canine equivalent of ebola. (This of course, was not rational because Azuki had all her shots, and if anyone was in danger of contrasting some virus, it was the young pup from Azuki, and not the other way around).
2. Azuki contracted some weird, incurable disease from the poop that she licked on our walk the previous week, or from one of the 1,4937484383 dirt/garbage/leave that she nibbled on from the streets of Tokyo.
3. She caught the canine equivalent of the bird flu from infected pigeon droppings, which she probably also licked.
4. She has bloat, a condition that afflicts many large breed, deep chested dogs like the Dalmatian and German Sheperds, and is extremely rare in small breeds. My dog, of course, would be the unfortunate exception and her stomach has been filled with air which made it twist 360%. She will die of a painful, slow death, suffering until her last breath.

I then thought of what I would do if I lost my dog--the creature that has changed my life forever (or at least for the next 10-15 years), the animal that I love and treat like my first-born.
Much of this blog is devoted to talking about what a bad dog Azuki is, but that simply isn't true, at least not all the time. Sure, there are times that I want to drop-kick her off of our 4th story apartment, like when she is full on ATTACKING ME and my shorts out of excitement when she senses that I am changing to take her out for a walk. But most of the time, I am convinced that she is the cutest pup with four extra long legs that ever walked on this planet. I love her just the way she is.

And besides, if I had a goody-two-shoes pup, she would be totally boring and I would have no materials to work with and no doggie blog. WOULDN'T THAT BE A TOTAL SHAME??

Back to our day: when she still hasn't eaten anything by 5pm, I promptly took her to the vet. The vet poked around, took her temperature (normal), and couldn't find anything wrong with her. She certainly seemed well enough at the hospital, hopping on every person that walked by, wagging her tail, licking their hands and in general just showing everyone how happy she was to be there. They tried offering her some delectable meat-flavored canned dog food, which she showed some interest by sniffing but still would not eat. But because there seemed to be nothing else wrong with her, the vet force-fed her some crushed medication (don't know what it is) mixed with sugar syrup and some high-caloric gel to give her energy.

I don't know what the medication was, but when we went home Azuki seemed more active and then became really gasy. Besides the constant gurgling sounds coming from her stomach, which sounded exactly like how humans sound when they are hungry and their stomach is empty, she also let out a few lound, explosive farts. They were so loud, I heard them while I was on the computer and she was halfway across the room. And for once, this wasn't me trying to blame it on the dog. The dog was passing gas in my livingroom!

After a brief walk outside, at about 9m, all of a sudden Azuki decided that she was hungry and was ready to eat. She ate all her kibbles that I had dropped in her cage, and then a whole bowl of food, plus some. She also took large slurps of water. Azuki was back!

Later on I looked at her medical bill, and apparently, I paid US$20+ for a whole week of medication that she now no longer needs. It seems plausible that the whole episode was a simple case of gas. She was probably just ALL STUFFED UP. I can't imagine how much better the pup must have felt after she let them rip.

Azuki and I had a quiet night, and this morning I woke up to the pup completely back to her former, genki self. Demanding her breakfast at 8am, Azuki engaged in her usual scheme to prevent me from sleeping in--she clicked her toenails all over our hardwood floors, attemped to knock the lamp off of my bedside table, thumped her forelegs at the side of my bed, and ran around in the livingroom banging into furniture.

When the workers came to deliver our dinning table, she subsequently terrorized them by stealing their gloves, digging at their equipment, jumping and licking their faces while they are handling our table made of GLASS, and just generally getting in everyone's way and staying there.

Someone please remind me why I wanted the pup to feel better.