Charlie

I am sitting on a plastic picnic-like folding chair across from one of the main pastures on the farm I now live on. A sweet, cool breeze is blowing through the tall trees that surround me. Afar, I see two mares and their respective foals. An Instagrammable sight, but not sound. Next to me is my fat, 5-year-old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, who is as cute as he is noisy — snoring obnoxiously at my feet.Charlie — my dog — just made his way across the Atlantic to the farm. He arrived a week ago to be exact, hand delivered in a big crate by the friendliest « pet handler » I had ever met — I had actually never met a « pet handler » prior to this occasion to be clear. He had travelled over 24 hours. From a small town in southern France, to Marseille, onwards to Paris and across the pond to Newark, followed by an hour drive to my home on the farm in northern New Jersey.Last Friday, the day he arrived, I was anxious, I was nervous.Would he remember me? Would he hate me for having made him go through such an expedition? Would he like his new home? Would he like the ridiculous amount of new toys, plush bed and organic food (yes…organic) I had prepared for him?Maggie, I can not relate directly to all of the stories you share about motherhood and your little ones, but as corny as this is going to sound, having a dog sometimes feels as though I too have a kid. This remark is very certainly a reflection of my current fear of responsibility for any being other than myself (hmmm not very proud of that, I have to say!), but it's true.Having this little dog — which was an unexpected surprise by the way, (oh shit does that ever sound weird! But it's true) is a part time job…Now you girls are probably really rolling your eyes ;)Charlie came into my life quite accidentally 5 years ago. At the time I was living with an ex-boyfriend, who given the sad state of my very small bed had offered to help me buy a mattress. I took him up on his grand gesture and we invested in an incredibly plush, firm and luxurious mattress. The day the Rolls-Royce of bedding arrived, I was beyond excited. I would never, ever, have a bad sleep, ever again…or so I thought. Truth be told…the mattress never made it up to my wee Parisian apartment. The stairs were too narrow, and the mattress…well…too plush…too firm…too…much of a dream.It was sent back to its origin at a store at Pont Neuf in the heart of the 1st arrondissement of Paris. A store that so conveniently happens to sit aside from a series of pet stores on the Quai des Animaux, on right bank along the Seine, of Paris.We — my ex, my younger brother who was living with me at the time, and myself — retrieved the hefty reimbursement we were due and left the bed store. I was so disappointed. Actually…I was pissed. I was infuriated. I had waited to long (this is France…so expect a two-month delivery delay when ordering a mattress…yup!). My vision of sweet dreams and long nights on a firm cloud of heaven had completely evaporated into thing air…As long as I was living in that apartment I would never sleep well.That fucking staircase.Noticing my ever so…shall we say… « dark » mood, my ex proposed we take a lighter break and check out the pet stores. My younger brother gleefully approved the idea…and I…well I followed them. We looked at fish, we looked at gerbils, we even looked at chickens (yes, oh yes, you can buy chickens in the heart of Paris). But I had warned them: we will not look at dogs. Too risky. Too cute. You get far too attached…far too quickly. No puppies. Obviously they did. Not only did they — my ex and my brother — look at dogs, but the imbecile that is this ex-boyfriend (imbecile is a kind work!) decided to hold some of the puppies…and worst yet, put one of them, the smallest, the friendliest and frankly the cutest…in my arms.15 minutes later, my ex, my brother and myself, had walked out of the 1st pet store we had walked into 30 minutes prior…with Charlie.I had not wanted to Charlie. I did not want any form of responsibility. I had just landed a great job, I did not want a distraction. I had warned my ex about the walking, the vet, the playing, the grooming…the responsibility that this little guy would represent.As you can tell from the story: he clearly did not listen. Fast forward 5 years later, Charlie and I are still together. The ex is long gone. And although this little dog has prevented me from having my dream mattress and ever truly having a good night's sleep (forget weekend sleep ins!), he's actually become my biggest blessing in disguise.He's my ray of sunshine when the clouds above my head seem to form over. He's the bolt of energy that gets me out the door every morning, far too early, for a good morning walk.But most importantly he's become my everyday companion who reminds me that I will never be alone as long as he's here.I've complained a lot about him over the years…the walks, the vet, the groomer, the dog walker (omg having to find a new dog walker…), the food, the accidents…but the happiness this little rascal has brought me, his company, his devotion, his loyalty, far surpass any complaints I could ever share. As I write, Charlie has stopped snoring. He is curled up, almost hidden by the tall grasses (likely covered by deer ticks…oh man). His right eye squints open and looks over to me. He's too cute.Many parents say that their children are the best, the most beautiful, the cutest…when asleep. I am no parent just quite yet, but right now, the same can be said about my little Charlie. Seeing him curled up in his new country home, far far away from the hustle, the bustle and the peculiar smells of the street of gray Paris…The 32-year old self that I am today would trade a good mattress in for him, any day.Signing off to go play fetch,Flora xoxo

why does my new toy poodle puppy refuse to eat ?

It can take a few days or even weeks for a dog to become comfortable enough with its surroundings to eat on a regular schedule. My small dog refuses to eat if someone is not home- so sometimes we need to do different things to get him to eat. One thing that works for me is dumping some of his food out of his bowl and onto the floor. I do not know why but he loves to eat off the floor ! Here are some possible causes and solutions to this problem: 1) The dog may have giardia- my puppy got it shortly after moving in. He will just need a pill and his appetite will be back. 2) Dog does not like the food - Change his food - the pieces may be too big for your dog to eat- try getting smaller bites and a few different brands so you know what the dog actually likes to eat. Get the pup some science diet wet food (beef) I do not know any dogs who wo not eat this ! Also, try feeding the dog some plain cooked brown rice, this can help the digestive tract get going again if something has disturbed it. Good luck with the puppy !