Baby's Got Back(hair)!

Last week marked the week Paco's hair finally grew in. I know this for a fact because we just had a barbeque two weekends ago and I was pointing out Paco's surgery line. Faint as it was, it did the trick as he was able to invoke sympathy (and table scraps) from everyone at the gathering.

And then we let him kill the giant unicorn pinata stuffed with tennis balls.

However, I tried to point out the line for visitors this weekend but, alas, it was nowhere to be seen. Not that we're complaining. In fact, this marks a huge victory in his recovery, as we had somewhat resigned ourselves to thinking our little company mascot was going to be naked from the waist down (aka "pants-less") forever.

Instead, it took almost 5 months on the nose to go from bald to beautiful. Check out the results:

Side view

close up (Paco wants you to know it smells like roses, just scratch and sniff)

And finally, annoyance.

It feels good to have our little guy back in one piece!

Cover Boy!

So remember a few months back when I announced Paco was selected by his surgeon, Dr. Haburjak, to be the cover boy for their CCL injury flyer? Well, it's now in circulation, woohoo!

Check it out:

If you want your own copy to frame, keep around as bathroom reading material, or use for kindling I'm sure you could request a copy from www.vscdsurgerycenters.com

Paco Gets Gay

And so do we. At the San Francisco Pride Parade.

We marched with the rest of the BADRAP contingency and won the unofficial costume contest (I say unofficial because I think we were the only ones participating).

Paco walked strong the entire time. Granted, it's not a long parade, but the entire event is pretty tiring for the pooches. Let's just say he slept well the rest of the day!

You can see more pride pix (and a sweet video) here!

Bonus Footage

Because Paco's mom is a little bit, ahem, technologically challenged at times, these videos were only recently uploaded and formatted for sharing.

Paco loves to fetch the stick at the lake. He's like a little otter in the water! And he can seriously beat any dog to the stick (just ask Pandora, she's eaten his waves before).

Shaking it off

And this is why Paco needs a bath when we get home (and why there's a brown ring around the tub).

(Okay, shameless product endorsement here: after all the abuse his Paco Collar goes through, it still looks great!)

Paco's Vacation

So this weekend Paco went on his first vacation in 4 months. We went to his favorite place on earth, Pyramid Lake (the one just past Reno, not the one near L.A.). It's the place he learned to swim when he was a wee pup and we make a pilgrimage at least once a year. As you can see, he really pops against the natural palette.

I'm not going to give away our secrets, but we have a spot that almost nobody knows about and you're pretty much guaranteed privacy (unless it's a major holiday weekend). The end result was that only two people intruded our solitude the entire time. One just drove by in their truck and the other was a dirt bike rider who stopped for fifteen minutes to explore the rock formations. Other than that, we got to loaf around, and Paco got to relax and swim to his heart's content for days. Well, day and half.

Here are some choice pics:

On top of the rock

Crazy swimming face

(there's a small stick in his mouth, hence the really weird expression)

Showcasing his native style

Group shot with Paco doing his best Zoolander impression

Dirt Face (aka. "Pig Pen")

Dinner

Feasting like a wild animal

Dead dog after a weekend of fun

Abracadabra!

So I've discovered a trick to disguise the fact that Paco is practically naked from the waist down. Just add shirt and, voila!

Studies have shown that the human mind is good at "creating stories" that make sense when there's missing information. For instance, the reason we always fall for the woman getting cut in half trick.

In another study, they had a stranger go up and ask for directions. While giving directions, two construction workers carrying a large sheet of plywood would walk in between the two people and the direction-asker would be switched out for a new person. In almost every case, the direction-giver never noticed the switch, even when the new asker was a completely different race. The theory is that the brain just reasoned away any inconsistency and filled in the gaps. For instance, "Huh, I thought he looked different when we first started talking. Oh well, I'm just unobservant."

So, since I've had Paco in the shirt, nobody's noticed his hairless ass.

[To be fair, it is growing back. . . slowly. There have been two comments in 24 hours to substantiate this. Last night Aaron said, "It's not so disturbing anymore," and today Jane said, "It's looking a lot fuzzier," so we're making progress]

My dog has no pants

So SFGATE just started a "Pets" section because, you know, pets are important. Since the option to write your own blog was available, I decided to take advantage and write about my favorite subject: Paco.

My dog has no pants.
Posted 5/12/2008 4:49 PM PDT

Recently my dog underwent TPLO surgery. For those of you unfamiliar with our story I urge you to read up on it here.

So, while I commend the medical staff at Berkeley Dog and Cat for prepping us for just about every post-op obstacle out there, they failed to address some secondary complications. For instance, the public embarrassment.

Right now it looks like my dog has no pants.

This was fine when I had to carry him down the stairs, help him walk with a sling, and have him confined to a crate or tie down 24/7. If anything, the fresh shave job emphasized the fact that he was crippled. It brought his pathetic state to a new level and squeezed sympathy out of even the most hardened hearts.

But now we've been cleared for light exercise. This means we get to start taking walks again, Paco can come in the car, and life begins to return to normal. The only problem is that nobody seems to have told his butt the news. It looks as pathetic and naked as before. And the fact his muscles have atrophied due to 6 weeks of no exercise only brings the point home.

Call me shallow, but I take pride in how my dog looks. I keep his weight down, his muscle tone up, and deck him out in fancy collars. When we roll down the street, I'm used to people hanging out the windows and yelling, "That's a nice lookin' dog!" and, if I'm lucky, they add, "and you ain't too bad yourself!"

But that's over now. I see people eyeballing us, as we make our slow return into the public realm of the street. I see their reactions as they take us in, get excited and prime themselves to hoot and holler, and then their faces fall as they try and make sense of the naked behind as it comes into full view. I can only wonder what's going through their heads since, to a lot of folks, the idea of surgery on a dog is ludicrous.

I suppose we have to choice until it grows in. Until then, I think I'll make him wear his pants more often: