So this post will probably pass the border into Land of Too Much Detail, but it’s something I have to deal with every day so I thought I’d share.
Before we got Forest, I tried to mentally prepare myself for all the unpleasant tasks that go along with dog ownership. I knew there were going to be midnight potty breaks for awhile (which turned out to be multiple nighttime potty trips) and accidents in the house. I understood that there would be the daily chores of dog walks, meals and tummy rubs (ok that last one isn't too bad). But I never, ever imagined, nor did anyone warn me, that I'd be cleaning puppy eye gunk every day.
When Forest wakes up in the morning, it looks like small, white slugs are crawling out of the corners of his eyes. Yuck. They don’t seem to bother Forest, but it’s totally gross to look at, like eye boogers or something. Forest is a pretty relaxed puppy most of the time, but he’ll squirm and wiggle when I try to clean his eyes using toilet or tissue paper. If I don’t wipe it all away, after a few hours the remaining eye boogers will start to harden and get crusty. *gag* Then my sweet little puppy has what looks like burnt popcorn stuck under his eyes.
When he was a young puppy, Forest was a 24-hour eye gunk factory. I just couldn’t keep up. When the eye boogers solidified, I would try to wipe then away with a wet washcloth, but that just smushed it into his fur. The people at doggy day care finally explained to me that after the eye boogers dried up, the best course of action was to use your fingernails or a small comb to pry the gunk out of his hair. I keep mentally comparing this task to when parents have to stick a thermometer in their baby’s booty. Unpleasant, but necessary.
Is this grossing you out yet? If so, then don’t read any further, because I’ve only described half of the puppy eye gunk removal process. But first, a short story about dog psychology. My coworker has two dogs, and because she is much braver than I, she and her husband will cut their dogs’ hair instead of taking them to a groomer. The older dog is pretty well behaved when it’s his turn, but he barks a lot when they cut the younger dog’s hair. My coworker and her husband have a theory that the older dog thinks the younger dog is being hurt. He doesn’t understand that they’re only cutting away hair; the older dog just sees what looks like body pieces being removed from his friend and falling to the ground. I don’t know if their theory is correct, but it make sense to me.
Back to Forest. While I would describe my puppy as being unhappy when I gently wipe away his eye boogers with a tissue, I would say he definitely freaks out when I pry crusty gunk out of the fur under his eyes. The only thing that seems to calm him down (and believe me when I say I would never do this if it didn’t) is to let Forest see the gunk I just pulled out and then, well, let him eat it. Gross! *blah* Yucky yuck. I can only assume that Forest thinks that gunk is part of him, which technically it is, and he wants it back.
Fast forward to Thanksgiving when my family met Forest for the first time. Besides thinking he was adorable, and they were also surprised at how calm he was for a puppy. When Forest was taking yet another nap on the kitchen floor, I think it was my sister who asked if we drugged Forest to keep him so quiet (I didn’t understand her astonishment until I met her puppy Leo over Christmas).
At one point during the holiday, Forest was sitting on my lap and I noticed that he had some crusty eye boogers. Lovely. So I tried to discreetly clean him up without interrupting the conversation. After a few minutes my dad looked over, noticed what I was doing and practically shouted “Calli, are you feeding those to him?” I froze up for a second, realizing how very weird the whole thing must have appeared to him, and then quickly explained the eye gunk problem. At the end I added “It’s kind of like recycling, right?”
It’s odd what you can become accustomed to over time, especially when you don’t think about it (or repress it, whatever).
No comments:
Post a Comment