Dr. Jenny and the phone consultations

You know I'm a hypochondriac. (Ok, and all of these.) Fortunately for me, my mom's a nurse. And, my brother's an EMT. And, my dad was the medical guy on his Green Beret and Delta Force teams. So, I'm covered when I freak out about my latest perceived, terrible illnesses and impending death.

My sister has recently become a veterinarian. And, what do you know?! I am a first-time dog owner!! Hooray for the (actually not at all accidental on my account) serendipity!

As you can imagine, taking care of myself is tough work, but taking care of someone else too?! DAMN NEAR IMPOSSIBLE! I don't know how parents of human babies do it! So many terrible, awful, horrific things could happen to my baby pup!! And, you just never know when they might occur. The whole world is a death monster, conspiring to get the little love of my life!

So, naturally, I have my sister on speed dial. Here are a few of the phone calls and FaceTimes--you know, if there is something I'm pretty sure she should examine--I've made to Dr. Jenny.

Jen!! The breeder said to take Lolly's collar off him when he goes to bed in his crate because he could strangle himself. I JUST LEFT HIM AT HOME ALONE WITH HIS CRATE OPEN!!!! Is he going to strangle himself?!?!?!!?

Jen! Lolly's poop is weird!!

Jen! Lolly's poop is weird but in a different way than before!

Jen! Check out this picture of Lolly's crazy weird poop! Is it supposed to look like that?!?!

Oh my gosh, Jen! Lolly's poop!!!
[The poop call happens a lot. Jenny said to me one time, "Why are owners so obsessed with their dogs' poop?! When I told her that everything you read about puppy wellness says that changes in their poop are first indicators of something being wrong, she said, "Kern*, how different does your poop look from time to time? Do you call your doctor every time it's different??" I mean, I might, if I were related to my doctor...]

Jen!!!! Lolly's making this crazy throat sound! DO YOU THINK HE CAN'T BREATH?!?!?!?! It almost sounds like he's got something in his throat--OR LIKE HIS THROAT IS CLOSING UP!!!! Oh, so you think he's just clearing his throat. So, that happens to dogs too, huh?

Jen! Jen!!!! Lolly's got weird goopy eyes! It's so gross!!! Here, let me send you a picture! DO YOU THINK HE'S BEING ATTACKED BY A MEMBRANE-DEVOURING BACTERIA?!?!?!!? Yes, there is pollen all over the ground. So, allergies you think, huh? Huh. What?! Give him Zyrtec?! Like I take?!?! That doesn't sound right... You're sure? Really sure?? Really, really sure dogs can take my human medicine?!?!
[Dr. Jenny actually said, "Poodles are known to be prone to allergies. You know, because they themselves are hypoallergenic! Har har." But, really.]

HOW DO YOU DO THE PUPPY HEIMLICH?!?!?! Is there such a thing?!?!?!?! Well, no, he's not choking right now, I'm just wondering in case he does choke one day. Reach into his throat and pull out the object he's choking on?! You can do that?!?!

Jen! Lolly is eating a whole tennis ball!!! Like, eating it, not just destroying it like he normally does. Is that going to get stuck in his stomach or in his throat?? DO I NEED TO DO THE PUPPY HEIMLICH?!?! Or, will it just come out in his poop?
[LOTS of poop questions when you have a puppy.]

How do I know if Lolly's cold, Jen? Do you think he needs one of those puppy coats? Of course, I have a rain coat for him, but does he need a winter coat?? That's true, he does have A LOT of fur...

Jen, Lolly is sniffing another dog's poop. Is he going to get sick from that?!

Jen!! Lolly's balls are HUGE!!!! Like so, so, so huge!!! Are they supposed to be that big?!?! I mean really, they're enormous for such a little pup. Look! Look, Jen!! Look at how enormous Lolly's balls are!! No, really! LOOK AT THEM! C'mon, Jen! Just look at them! I mean, one day they were just tiny, little, pea-sized balls, and now they are MONSTROUS!!! I'm pretty sure he's got whatever that disease is that inflames testicles. ...Huh. So, that's boy puberty?
[When Dr. Jenny neutered Lolly, I tried to get her to acknowledge again, in person this time, that Lolly had remarkably large testicles. She refused. But, when the vet tech prepped him for surgery--I got to watch the whole surgery and prep as a perk of being the vet's sister--the tech exclaimed, "Whoa! Now, those are some sizable gnards!" Vindication.]

Hey, Jen. How's it going? Having a good day? So, Lolly got into my bag and ate half a 12-hour Sudafed. Is that a big deal? WAIT!!! WHAT?!?!?! THAT'S A BIG DEAL?!?!?!?!?! IT COULD KILL HIM?!?!?!?!?!?!? WHAT DO I DO?! WHAT DO I DO?!?! WHAT DO I DO?!?!?! No, I don't have ipecac syrup or activated charcoal!! Oh, hydrogen peroxide will make him throw up too? I don't have that either!! NEIGHBORS!!!!! NEIGHBORS!!! HELP!!!!!! OH MY GOSH!!! LOLLY NEEDS IMMEDIATE AID!!!!!!!!!!!
[And, then I spent the next hour watching Lolly throw up and picking bits of Sudafed tablet out of the puke to piece back together to make sure we got it all. THANK GOODNESS for kind, close neighbors!]

This was our "I'm so glad you're ok" and "Glad Jenny did that whole vet school thing" shot

I'm so fortunate that Jenny became a vet. Could you image me doing this whole "parenting" thing without a safety net?! Thank goodness for pet insurance for frequent vet visits, right?!?!




*- A nickname attributed to me by my dear, sweet sister in high school because I was, at the time, quite a happily without a nickname. And, naturally, since I hated it, it has stuck for all these twenty-fygwmumbleskhe years. It's actually short for Kernwaller** because, sure.

**-Note from aforementioned sister: "Kern" is actually short for Kernwaller, Shot Caller," which should add further clarity. 

Dogs are love magnets. Or so I've heard.

We went to a really fun barbecue at Cabin John Regional Park last weekend. There's a great dog park at Cabin John, so there were a ton of people with dogs there. Lolly had a blast, as he always does when there are people and/or dogs around. Such a social, little bugger, that one! I don't know where he gets it!

As we were all leaving, we happened upon a guy with a yellow lab he had had for about two weeks. Suddenly, all eight of us girls and Lolly descended on him, cooing about the dog.

"Aw! What a cutie!"
"How cute is your dog?!"
"What a little love!!"

The guy said to us, "Wow! I should have gotten a dog a long time ago! I never got this much attention before I had him!"

I guess it's true what they say: guys with dogs are way more attractive than guys without. And, guys with dogs get a lot of attention from the ladies. So, single guys, do yourself a favor and get a dog! For real, it works.

But what about for the ladies?

Sure, Lolly and I get a LOT of attention when we go out. Lolly is certainly a charmer and wants everyone to know. These are the types that coo over us, though:

• Families with small children
• Moms trying to get their kids to not be afraid of dogs
• Older men with their wives who are here on vacation and left their dogs who look just like Lolly at home
• Homeless men
• Other dogs
• 20-something girls
• 30-something girls
• Teenage girls
• 40-something girls
• Other poodle owners
• Old, old men with poodles (one guy we see occasionally even pushes his elderly poodle around in a stroller. I turn my nose up at that now, but talk to me again when Lolly's little joints are arthritic!)
• Gay men
• Men out with their girlfriends/wives/fiances
• Men who inevitably say, "My girlfriend would love this dog!"
• Men I then later see with their wives/girlfriends/fiances and sometime their own dogs

So, as it turns out, Lolly is not the love magnet I was assured a dog would be. Nary a love connection has been made since I got the little pooch.

Perhaps my mistake in date-attraction ploys was getting a curly, prancy dog. Lolly certainly tries his little heart out, running up with those pet-me, love-me, little, puppy eyes to everyone we see (I mean, really, a half mile walk takes like 40 minutes as Lolly turns on the charm for every, single person).

I wonder how Lolly's friend Stella The Great Dane's mom does in attracting suitors when they're out for a walk.

The key, I've decided just now, is to train Lolly to reel in the eligible bachelors. We've got to get some kind of routine down, like when Adam Sandler uses the kid in Big Daddy to manipulate women. This will totally work. Ah, another time life takes lessons from Adam Sandler movies!

Hey, Lolly! Come here! We've got some work to do!

Lolly is a boy dog.

Longtime readers, and anyone who knew me between 2002 and 2014, know that Lolly was a long time coming. And boy, was that the right decision to wait until I was ready! The lovable, little pup is perfect for me and perfect for my life now. He has opened so many doors and introduced me to lots of wonderful people I may not otherwise know. I'm grateful for finding him and for finally being ready to let him bring so much to my life.

Sappy gratitude time over. Thanks for hanging in.

Lolly's a boy dog. I understand his name is misleading. His name was picked way back when. ...When I thought he was going to be a girl dog. But, after 12 years or so of commitment to a name, was I just going to abandon it for a silly, little reason like gender specificity?!

"Lolly" pays tribute to the first, little poodle I met, with whom I fell madly in love. Her name was Lulu. She was the one who made me consider liking dogs. "Lolly" also pays tribute to our time living in Australia, where they call candies "lollies," a term my dad sometimes still slips into.

On the weekend I locked Lolly down with the breeder, I happened to be visiting some great friends. It was confirmed Lolly would be a boy, and in the midst of celebrating Lolly finally existing (for so long before that, he was a make-believe joke that everyone found so, so funny--everyone found it funny, I know it), I said, "Wait, am I still going to be able to call him Lolly if he's a boy now??"

Without missing a beat both of the girls I was with--good, supportive friends--said, "Yes! Of course!!"

The sole, representative guy, who I think was speaking for all guys considering guys I meet are the most confused about Lolly's gender, assessed us all with a sweeping you-all-are-nuts look and said, "No you can't call him Lolly!! That is a GIRL'S name!"

The rest of us looked at each other and started trying to come up with "boys'" names. As it turns out, "Lolly" is, obviously, the most perfect name ever*. We couldn't top it. So, we set to work "butching" it up.

Lolly's full name became Sir Walter Lolly.

Any dog whose name starts with a title, like Sir or Mister or Prince, is hysterical. So, he had to have a prefix. Naturally.

"Walter" is the name my brother, sister and I attribute to anyone about whom we're inventing stories, and it makes us laugh and laugh. Ask us about Walter Tinkle, and we'll devolve into a fit of giggles! Sometimes there are things only siblings understand.

Finally, to tie this whole name together with a sweet--masculine--bow, I grew up in Virginia, and Sir Walter Raleigh is largely credited with colonizing Virginia. Sure, sure; history. Really, my favorite place to request birthday dinners when I was little was Sir Walter Raleigh's Steakhouse. So, that's especially apropos, if you ask me and my stomach!

Inevitably, though, the name Lolly leads to some confusion. I can't tell you how many times I have this conversation:

Stranger on the street (Lolly gets a LOT of attention when we go out. No one can resist the sweet fluff!): Oh! Look at this little guy! What's his name?

Me: Lolly.

Stranger: Oh! A girl; I'm sorry!

Me: No, he's a boy. I named him before I knew he was going to be a boy. His full name is Sir Walter Lolly when he's being formal.

Stranger: polite laughter as they get lost in Lolly's love.

I mean, what can you do?! Lolly's so curly and prancy and such a fancy fluff that the name totally works!

*- Except for the name Potato. There used to be a goldendoodle in our building whose name was Potato, and that was too, too funny and adorable! Best part? Sometimes they called him Tater or Tot!!!! I mean, come on!!

Stuff's kept me away

Guys. Raising a puppy is EXHAUSTING! Remember that little poodle I've been talking about for years? Lolly exists! (Also? Lolly's a boy—Sir Walter Lolly when he's being fancy. More on that later.) And, as it turns out, it is a lot of work and pretty much all consuming. He's mostly peeing outside now, though, so I've got some time to start writing again. 

Guess what! Puppies are good for a LOT of content, none of which I captured in the blog, naturally. So, just as I live most of my life slightly detached from reality, let's go back and pretend that these following puppy chronicles have all happened within the last week rather than the last year. And, while we're at it, let's imagine I'm 20 pounds lighter and much more financially responsible! 

I've got some non-puppy-related posts to pepper in there, too, for your reading pleasure. Oh! There was also a hilariously terrible juice cleanse during my blogging hiatus that maybe I'll "live blog."

Stay tuned, folks. There's gold coming. Gold.

Live from Lollywood!

Hi! Welcome to my brand spanking new blog where we’ll delve into my innermost thoughts. Ok, maybe not innerMOST thoughts. I’m not sure a whole lot of people would want to be that far into the circus tents that are the inner workings of me, and I think I’ve got a few ex-boyfriends who would probably agree.

For the first order of business, allow me to provide some insight into the adorable name of this rollercoaster of hilarity and mild insanity.

I have a make-believe dog. Her name is Lolly.

Lolly exists (or doesn’t, as it is that she’s imaginary) at the intersection of my love for saying absurd things just to see people’s reactions (usually the reaction is an internal debate about whether I should maybe be taken away by men in white jackets) and my desire to eventually own a toy poodle puppy. You see, I’m far too into happy hours and amorphous evening schedules to commit to the responsibility of feeding, putting on her rain boots and rain hat, walking, fighting off the hoards of people vying for little Lolly’s attention, grooming, matching collar with leash, disciplining, plying with treats and all the other normal duties associated with dog ownership. I’m not ready to actually invite a real puppy into my life, but I have her name all picked out and know exactly what she’ll look like: curly and small enough to fit in my purse, with a little bow in her precious tresses. I know, I’m a total cliché.

Somewhere within the years I’ve been talking about someday adopting Lolly, my family started buying Lolly presents for her to one day enjoy using. And, I prepared by buying all the poodle ownership books, including the ones about litter box training a small dog. Eventually, “Lolly will,” finally became “Lolly does,” and because I thought it was so freaking hysterical, it stuck.

If a dog jumps on me or goes crazy sniffing me (what can I say? Boys and dogs both seem to love my signature scent!), I’ll say something like, “Oh, he probably smells Lolly on me.” This is the most fun to say to a stranger in front of a friend who knows Lolly isn’t real, because whether it amuses the friend or not, I’m inevitably laughing so hard at my really funny joke, the friend is left to explain to the stranger that Lolly is make-believe and then to watch the stranger run in the other direction.

One day I had a guy over whom I had told about Lolly but had neglected to let in on the joke. When Lolly did not bound to the apartment door when we opened it, he asked where she was. I told him that she was probably running around the building somewhere, since everyone loves Lolly, but who knows where exactly she was. His horrified look was exactly what the joke is about.