July 27, 2015

Yesterday was A.J.’s birthday; my little boy turned three years old. Well, technically it was his two-year adoption day. We’ve had this crazy springer in our house for two full years. Wow. It’s amazing how much we’ve been through in those two years.

We decided to go out to dinner to celebrate. I fed A.J. his dinner about half an hour before we left for the restaurant. I fed him a tiny bit less than usually, knowing Greg would feed him from the table at the restaurant. (Something I still don’t like, but I’ve given in on that at restaurants. Not at home though, absolutely no handouts are allowed directly from the dinner table.) Because it was his birthday, Greg fed him even more than usual from his dinner, and because it was his birthday I didn’t put up too much of an argument.

A.J. was (of course!) very well-behaved during dinner. When we were done we took him to a nice big play field right by the restaurant. It was a little hot out, the temperature was in the mid-80’s, but I let him run like a crazy dog for about 15 minutes. When we first got there the field was covered with crows. A.J. took care of that right away.

After about 15 minutes I could tell A.J. was looking for water. We had some in the car, so we headed back. We gave him his drink then we went home.

Thirty minutes later A.J. was still panting like crazy. He’d lay down, then get up and stand there and just look at me. I’d go to him, pet him for a little while, then go back and sit down. We did this a few times until A.J. went outside. I was getting a little worried about him as time went on, so I followed him outside.

I  guess now is when I should mention that I’m absolutely paranoid of bloat. It happens quickly, and dogs die from it all the time. I always wait at least an hour after A.J.’s meals before I take him for walks or let him run around a lot. On this occasion I didn’t do that, so as he’s lying there panting and wandering around for 30, 40, 50 minutes, I’m watching him very closely, hoping we didn’t kill our dog with kindness on his birthday.

I’m happy to say that he’s perfectly fine. His breathing finally calmed down after about an hour. Paranoid dog mom can relax and enjoy her three-year-old.