It’s a rainy, dismal morning: the sort of morning when you don’t want to get out of bed.
As most of you know, Noga is my Psychiatric Service Dog. She helps me deal with the ups and downs of having Bipolar, PTSD, and a a few other DSM diagnoses. She takes care of me at night when I get stricken with the Blind Terrors, and she torments me mercilessly when the time for my evening meds rolls around and I am still furiously writing. When I get depressed she cuddles up to me and when I dissociate she pulls at my pants leg till I come back.
Her payoff–well, part of it, anyway–is that every morning she gets kisses and hugs. She waits for me to wake up, and is usually snuggled up in the snuggly place between my left shoulder and my ear, which has been wonderful in the cold season; I think I shall have to put in air conditioning in the summer, though, so that the snuggling can continue unperturbed by sweatiness.
Back to the hugs and kisses part. Noga will not get out of bed without her hugs and kisses. And by some unit of measurement known and determined only by her, she must have a certain quantity of hugs and kisses before she will get out of bed. And there is a specific sequence to the ritual:
1. Hugs and kisses, especially tummy rubs and kisses on the head, preferably between the eyes.
2. Stretches, with hugs and kisses along with.
3. Scritches and playful tugs on the hind legs and tail, accompanied by little love nibbles on the active hand, given by the Princess.
4. Standing up and prancing about in the bedclothes, and “killing” some of them with fierce shakes.
When we get to this point, it is time to get out of bed and go outside to “do our thing,” since Noga does NOT use the Electric Toilet (see previous post).
Today was an exception. Noga awakened, opened one eye, saw through the glass slider that it was pouring rain, and went back to sleep. I tried kisses and hugs in vain. She enjoyed them, yes, but she was not about to be moved. Bed was where she planned to stay. I could see it in her eyes: I will stay here all day if need be. You see, Noga has a morbid fear of getting wet. She is rather like a cat in that respect.
I really could not believe that after ten hours in the sack she could not have to go potty; so I picked her up and cuddled her for a while, just to get her going. Then I set her down in the bed, and as you can see in the picture above, her answer was: “No dice.”
Lhasa Apsos are arguably the most stubborn dogs in the world. They make Corgis look like boot-lickers. So I snatched her out of her warm bed and bundled her up in her Paddington Bear raincoat and carried her outside in the rain. She looked like this:
She was not happy, and indeed she refused to look at me the entire time we were outside. But we got the job done, and when we came inside and took off our raincoats we played chase and had breakfast and everything was lovely again.









weordmyndum
/ January 14, 2013My dog refuses to go out in the rain, too. He’s nearly 50 lbs, though, so I can’t pick him up–I kinda have to push him out the door. Then he runs under the neighbors’ porch overhang to do his business where it’s drier, then dashes back inside. Kinda hilarious. He also growls at snow falling.
Soul Survivor
/ January 14, 2013Growls at snow,eh? You have to wonder what’s going through their doggy minds….
scienerf
/ January 14, 2013Hehe she sounds very like Angus the little man (Lhasa Apsos) who came to stay with Toby and I for a couple of weeks while his daddy was away…rain was a no go unless Toby was peeing then he would dash out the back door, pee where he had been then run back in. Toby however loves the rain, the snow today was his idea of heaven but he doesn’t like hail
Soul Survivor
/ January 14, 2013Yes, someone else peeing has a very motivating effect. See my previous post. I don’t blame him for not liking hail! It could puncture the integument.
scienerf
/ January 15, 2013Hehe I saw peeing wars. I don’t blame him either we both hid under a shop doorway last time it was so heavy!
puncturerepairkit
/ January 14, 2013This has got to stop. There is only so much….toilet stuff that the internet can stomach.
Soul Survivor
/ January 14, 2013Hee hee hee….gotcha….
Bipolar Girl
/ January 14, 2013she is precious!!
Soul Survivor
/ January 14, 2013Thank you, I think so too!
survivor55
/ January 14, 2013Reminds me of my Max, a miniature schnauzer. I’d have to hold MY umbrella over HIM in order for him to use the bathroom in the rain!! I love him and I miss him so very much!!
Thanks for sharing this story and the wonderful photos, too!!
Soul Survivor
/ January 14, 2013That’s a great story. We do grow to love these wonderful doggy buddies, don’t we? I still mourn over canine partners past and gone.