We took Jezzy to the vet today for another vaccination. While examining her, the vet noticed she had some dark-colored ear wax, which is usually not good for dogs. The bad news: Jezzy has ear-mites. The good news: The vet put a sample of the wax under a microscope and let us see the ear-mites. We could actually see them moving around! How cool is that?! We'd never get this kind of love with an American vet. Anyhow, the diagnosis is good; ear drops for a week, and she'll be fine.
Jezzy rarely barks, but if her ball rolls under the TV stand, she'll bark for us to get for her. It's not that she can't get it herself; she's small enough to get under there. I think she's claustrophobic, which, if you know anything about the origins of Yorkies, is totally ironic. They were bred small back in England to be ratters; some thought they were better than cats. Yet my dog doesn't like getting in tight spaces. Sigh.
So we finally bought a dog last week, keeping a promise we made to Emmy a long time ago. She's a 4-month old Yorkie who alternates being full of energy and napping contentedly in someone's lap. She's also a kleptomaniac; she's got this odd habit of putting stuff in her cage. Like a squirrel who can't store enough nuts, she hides anything she can bite: squeaky toys, rawhide bones, Hot Wheels cars, her collar (when it's off her), her leash, a spare straw, whatever.