Bad with the good

Okay, for a few months I've been writing and posting Chester's stories ... for several reasons.

Originally I wrote as a diary of his progress, a way to track "do's and don'ts". Chester is our first, but likely not our last, rescue dog. Then I decided that sharing his successes and failures could help others who have (or might want to adopt) a rescue dog. From there it went from Facebook entries to the blog. Finally with encouragement from my husband and many Facebook friends, I decided to write a book. The book will be completed and published only when I feel we've made enough improvements in Chester's life for it to be a valid guide.

Several days ago I reported again on some obvious changes in Chester's health and happiness levels. It's time to tell some of the bad with the good.

After weeks of being sick, I woke yesterday starting to feel more like myself. We've had a very long winter so far and it's only December 30. Since we live in the Pacific northwest, we expect rain and grey skies but it can be depressing at times. What we didn't anticipate was for it to be the seventh wettest year on record. We've dealt with saturated lawns, muddy patches worn in the back yard as the dogs use the same paths to go from here to there. Grey skies that seem endless with few days of sunshine. Actually that's not normal either because we usually get more winter peeks at the sun than we've seen this year.

Yesterday morning Chester and I did our normal routine ... headed downstairs and outside for him to potty in the back yard and returned back upstairs to our room while we wait for Glenn and Casey to get up. Then we usually return downstairs for breakfast and another trip to the back yard.

Weather forecasters keep pushing days ahead when we'll see the sunshine. Tomorrow wasn't coming and I needed a mood change. One of my favorite ways to make that happen is heavy cleaning and moving things. Time for a shift of furniture and electronics in my bedroom and home office. Besides, with all the toys around, Chester has outgrown his sleeping area. Our grown kids could tell you childhood stories about escapades doing this over the years. When Glenn returned from work he never knew for sure where he'd find his favorite chair. Anyway, as I began removing wires from a few of the electronic gadgets in the bedroom, Chester began to shift around on his bed a bit. I wasn't anywhere near him and I assured him that he was fine. He settled back down. As I pulled more wires from the back of the TV cabinet, he began pacing around the room. He headed to the bathroom, then across the hall to my office and back. I figured if it made him that nervous that he would definitely freak out when I actually began moving the components themselves.

So, after Chester settled back on his bed, I shut him and his toys in the bedroom. I'd been gone maybe 10 minutes, across the hall in my office, when I remembered a remote control from the other room. As I entered the room I was stunned. It smelled like a sewer and not only was there a huge pile of poo on the tile in the bathroom, but there was a wet spot on the carpet and footprints all over the room. Not only had he peed on the floor, but he'd stepped in it and tracked his now wet and muddy feet all over the beige carpet. This season we've been careful to wipe dog feet at the door and keep the dirt to a minimum on the dark color commercial carpet in the basement.

The upstairs bedroom isn't a small room, actually it's very large as bedrooms go. And having that door closed isn't a new thing to him. There are times during the day and always at night when I close it. Chester is happy to be there alone for short periods of time, although I only do that when there's something or someone in the house that might bother him.

I may or may not have told you that Chester doesn't bark, growl or make normal dog noises. He actually growled one time within the first week or so of being here. If Casey was locked in a room, she'd scratch at the door, then bang on the door with her paw and if that didn't work, she'd bark. The only sound Chester makes, other than during sleep, is this quiet whistle noise. He doesn't even do that much any more. At one time he used it to welcome me back after I'd left the room to make dinner or run a quick errand. 

Don't get me wrong, he's had a few accidents in the house before, mostly in the basement and usually on the tile floor. He came to us as a five-year old dog who doesn't "ask" to go anywhere. We anticipate his needs and respond accordingly. Since we're with him 24/7, most of the time it works just fine. He was raised in a chicken coop with 17 other dogs and then spent months in foster care in a home with a doggie door. We don't have one and won't install one at this house since we're trying to sell. We will have one at the next home.

I was shocked how quickly the fear overtook Chester to cause him to defecate in the house after just being outdoors. I was not happy this time, and he sensed my body language, although I never said a thing to him. I cleaned up the obvious and quietly walked him to the basement where he could spend time with Glenn and Casey until I completed moving things around upstairs. Next time I know to move the dog before I move anything else.

Today the sun finally made an entrance, blue skies above and frost below. Our grey skies keep the temperatures moderate. The rain keeps everything green and pretty year round. When the clouds disappear this time of year we finally get frost. This year the frozen ground is a welcome sight  ... means the mud is gone ... for a few days.

Order of the day ... 1-take Chester outside to potty, again. 2-escort him to the basement to spend time with Glenn and Casey. 3-shampoo carpet in the bedroom. At least that completes my mood change projects for now.

Bad with the good or good with the bad? I believe Chester would tell you that most days are very good. We can weather a few bad times ... if for no other reason than to truly appreciate all the good ones.