A year in the life of our Miss Riley

Nope, Nope, Don’t Wanna!

Still horribly hot and humid here. Riley is still balking at going outside until it’s almost past necessary. This was her this morning, standing at the open door, all “You want me to WHAT? Go out THERE? Are you INSANE?”

I bet if there was ever a time she wished she knew how to use the indoor facilities, today was that day.


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Strictly Business

If we thought earlier this week was hot, this weekend made it pale in comparison. Riley would only go out to do her thing, then back up the ramp and back into the cool.


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Princess Picky

It’s really hard to tell if the latest cortisone and vitamin shot Riley got is helping her appetite, because she’s gotten even pickier about food. She’s now over eggs again — even eggs with cheese melted into them — and wants nothing to do with her regular kibble — even when there’s yogurt involved. We found a canned food she seems to like that even has a little higher fiber to keep her colitis from acting up. I fed her a full can in stages today. After I finished the can, she kept coming looking for more, so I opened another can and gave her some, and her attitude changed to, “Oh, this stuff? No thanks.”

The latest winner? Boiled chicken with broth. My husband made her some after herĀ canned food refusal was followed by her egg and cheese shunning and then my mini breakdown. She lapped up the broth, then gulped down the chicken. Let’s hope this agrees with her and isn’t another transient taste. For her health and my sanity.

I'm not picky, just particular

I’m not picky, just particular


Sometimes Even Royalty Has to Wait…

…especially when expecting to be hand-fed scrambled eggs and cheese — that cheese gets really hot!


Doesn’t mean Riley can’t bark and give me the stinkeye while she’s waiting, though…

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Sometimes It Pays to Be Old & Deaf

Today was the trifecta of noise on the home front: our bathroom renovation started, the house across the street (my office faces it) is being renovated, and neighbors down the street were murdering trees with a giant wood chipper. At one point, our little street was like a scene from Mad Max: Fury Road with all the trucksĀ battling for space.

Riley? Slept through it all:


Our workers fussed over her, as is her royal due, when they arrived, and then later when she woke up, she relocated to the dining room, where she could look up the steps and see what the guys were doing.


The Princess Fan

I dug out the fan I used to use in my old office for Riley. It’s quieter, and sized just right for princesses.



Too Darn Hot

We’re in the middle of super-high temps, and Miss Riley isn’t too fond of it. The heat slapped us in the face when we came out around lunch, and Riley wasn’t remotely eager to stay outside — she beat me to the porch and gave me this look when I snapped a photo instead of opening the door to let her back into the nice cool house.

Put the camera down and open the door already!

Put the camera down and open the door already!


Princess Clingy

Riley’s reduced mobility means she can’t up and follow me around when I do things around the house, particularly upstairs. Instead, she stands at the bottom on the steps and yips. If I don’t come down right away, she sits where she can see the steps and sulks.


I’m Princess Clingy from Clingtown, Clingania. (and so’s your dad!)

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Her Royal Highness

Why, yes, I am royalty; how kind of you to notice.


This is my “Benevolent Ruler” face

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Pack Dynamics

When you have dogs, you become part of the pack and pack dynamics apply. My husband is the Alpha, He Who Must Be Obeyed. I am the Omega, the pack member who seems the weakest, but is actually a trusted caregiver. Our roles were very apparent today in how we got Riley (who defies all pack dynamics herself and is, in general, the Queen of Everything) to eat.

In a few intervals from morning to early afternoon, I brought Riley’s food from the freezer, set it down in front of her, and coaxed her into eating. She took morsels readily from my hand, and occasionally was eager enough to dive into the bowl for a few bites before she started looking for something in my hand again. End result: complete meal eaten.

This evening, my husband fed her. She barked as is her wont in the evening feeding time, but tried to do the sniff-and-walk-away move she’s patented in recent weeks. Alpha stood behind her and said, “Go on, eat.” And stood there implacable until she finished all but about two bites. Even then, he took up the bowl, followed her into the living room and got her to eat a little more.

Coaxing or command, whichever works. She’s got food in her, so that’s a good thing.


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