Teeth are like badges, we don't stinkin' need 'em

In a few days I heard back from the vet about the mammary mass. It was non-cancerous! Big sighs of relief from me and my mom, who had proudly adopted the term "granddog" and was as worried about the Toothless Wonder as I was. Future masses may be in the cards and, as of this moment, I will likely have to ignore them due to various other issues that have manifested over the next few months. I make no promises though. I am a bit of a sucker for Nadine and keeping her healthy...if you hadn't noticed.

As for her mouth, she was a few teeth lighter, in a mouth that wasn't a full set to begin with, but Nadine took on her new chompers as if nothing had changed. Once healed, she was gnawing at her Dingo bones as if she still had a full set. No doggie dentures needed here! (My friend Beth had visited early on with her pup, Rupert, and introduced Nadine to Dingos. They immediately became numero uno treat and are now purchased in Costco-sized bags as she can gum her way through one in less then an hour.) I'm pretty sure Nadine was short on teeth originally, likely what caused her tongue to flip out of the side of her mouth...in any case, she now had just a few in back, none in the middle, and her canines in front - which the vet wanted to eventually remove.

"Oh yeah, I can still chew the hell out of this thing! I'll gum your cute, brown shoes, if you'd like too!

Whaddya mean, I can't do much damage?? Ooohhh, I'll show you...watch me eat up your TimeOut magazine!"

Now for our next challenge...housebreaking. She loved going outside and quickly learned what words were associated with it. She was also starting to enjoy the attention she was getting outside. Everyone stopped to say hello, and the neighbor dogs like Moe and Zoe, Heather, and Quinn were some of her favorite friends. Watching a 10lb dog trying to antagonize a 40lb one is a lot like an adult holding a kid by the head at arms length while they swing away at you.

Yet, for all her love of outside and marking up her territory with squats and leg lifts - she does both, which J.R. Ackerley called "necessity vs. social urination" -  understanding to hold it for outside was another story. She remained crated at night because I couldn't trust her with free-reign over the house. I had to watch her like a hawk when she was indoors, even taking her into the bathroom with me while I took a shower. Walking across the living room rug with my bowl of cereal in the morning was like maneuvering a field of land mines...you never knew if you were about to step in a sopping wet and possibly still warm puddle.  It always seemed to happen when I forgot to remember; step and "oh fudgesicle, Nadine!" But with more "uck" and less "udgesicle".

I read the books that said to repeatedly take her outside for just 5 minutes and if she doesn't go, to then right come back in and then right back out after 10 minutes. Wash, rinse, and repeat. Okay, that may be lovely for your suburban-dwelling, backyard-having, McMansion-owning, gas-guzzling, pesticide-spraying, excessive baby-having, environment-destroying...  whoops! Sorry about that. I meant to say, that may be fine for those with one door that leads to a yard, but it doesn't work so well for an urban apartment dweller three floors up. With a dog who can't walk down stairs. And a scary elevator.

After a month of accidents with no improvement and a fraying, overlaundered kitchen rug (her favorite spot, both in my house and, I shortly discovered, other people's) I decided to try another tactic...the puppy pad on the balcony. I thought this would save me from carrying her up and down the stairs 3 times a night. It did, but it wasn't any more pleasant...