Start Random Observation…

Boomer’s back legs always look like he just got off a horse. And he wiggles his butt when he walks. Which would explain the desire of other dogs to hump him, I guess.

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Boomer’s ears are wonderful in the fact they are completely indicative of how he’s feeling. Straight up means he’s wide awake and ready to play. Ears half-mast means a little tired. Ears straight out from the side of his head means this dog is about ready to fall over.

Boomer, since I’ve had him, has only gotten seriously sick one time, with a case of kennel cough when he was about 4 months old. I came home from work at lunch to check on him and his gums were SHEET WHITE and the ears were about as far down as they could go. So I scooped up the puppy, took him to the vet, and a few dollars later, he got a shot of antibiotics in his hiney. I was also provided a regimen of oral medicine to give him for about 10 days. However, the vet decided that it was the perfect time to remove Boomer’s noo-noos, so away the oral medicine went (and the noo-noos!). There have been a few times that I have truly guilty as the owner of Boomer, for putting him in some compromising position because it was funny to me and, had he the ability to feel humiliation (which he obviously doesn’t, or he wouldn’t do half the stuff he does), he certainly would have done so. Well, while talking with the veterinarian about the forthcoming noo-noo removal, she said that I should get an e-collar (the lampshade thingee they put on dogs) to prevent him from licking his stitches and generally behaving badly while healing. So I get one, knowing full well that Boomer has a giant noggin but a little body. Well, just as I sorely overestimated his ability to wear his first leash and collar, I overestimated the need for an e-collar. When we got home from noo-noo surgery, he did absolutely NOTHING. He sat in the middle of the living room, his ears straight out, floating in his own little medicated head. And then I decide, “I better put this e-collar on sooner than later.” You have never seen more a pathetic animal than my dog, with an e-collar on his head, looking at me with the saddest little eyes.

And I took pictures. I suck as a human being.

And the worst part – because we didn’t finish the drugs for kennel cough before the noo-noos were taken, his fricking kennel cough came back, so I got to spend more dollars for another shot in the hiney (his, not mine), and more oral medicine. AAARRRGGH!

When I spoke to the breeder about her corgis way back when, she informed that she tries to breed than smaller than standard. I was told that Boomer should end up in the 19-22 pound range when fully grown. A regular-sized male corgi can be between 25-28. Only one problem – Boomer kept growing. And growing. Instead of being a mere 19-22 pounds, Boomer has now exceeded even the high end weight for his breed, at a startling THIRTY-SIX pounds. And the thing is, he isn’t fat! He’s not even festively plump. He doesn’t even look that much larger than some corgis he’s around, but he’s dense like a…like a really dense thing. This dog has been on half rations for 4 months and he’s still gaining weight.

One of the dog parks in Kansas City has a waterfront area for dogs, a little beach where they can swim. Initially, Boomer didn’t show anything more than curiosity at the water’s edge (and an overwhelming desire to drink the entire lake). And then one day he decided it was okay to get his paws wet and run in the shallow area. And then one day he decided it was okay to get up to his chest. And then one day, as a ball was floating by just out of reach, he decided he was Lab and went swimming after it. And now I can’t keep the maniac out of the water. And it’s not all fun and games for me, because as I’ve said before, Boomer makes bad decisions. One day, while swimming, he took off after a yellow Lab, which we all know would swim across the entire lake. So I turn to the lady next to me, who I didn’t know, and said “Would you be upset if I very quickly handed you my keys and phone, in case I have to go in after that small dog making bad decisions?” Luckily, his version of common sense prevailed and he turned back to the shore after swimming about 20 feet from the shore. My heart palpitations receded shortly thereafter. And now once a week, we’re out at the lake. If it wasn’t for his ears, you’d think he was an otter. I’m sure the underwater cam footage would be very I have thought about tracking down a small life preserver, aqua socks, and a pair of goggles so he can go running down the hill to the waterfront area decked out like a six-year-old at the community pool. Could be funny.