When we did allergy tests on our itchy Schnoodle Tinker many years ago, the findings included egg, flies, wheat, and various grasses. She would never avoid any type of food but you can clearly tell that she often does not like the texture of grass under her sensitive paws. If it wasn’t the uncomfortable dry thick grass of Austin, it’s especially not the lush wet green carpet of Portland. She will show her discontent by sometimes hopping like it’s a bed of hot coals or tread softly like a princess in a mine field. It’s interesting that once she’s decided to do her business she will leave the preferred sidewalk path and gravitate towards a grassy patch, wandering back and forth until she finally finds the perfect spot. She’ll poop in the middle of the grassy area but pee only on the edge, sometimes with her front paws on the sidewalk, asphalt, or dirt surface.  I will watch in amazement (and sometimes frustration) for what sometimes seems like forever until she eventually gets to the right spot. It may very well be that Tinker is getting her revenge on the very grass that makes her itch by taunting and torturing it on where exactly she is going to leave her mark. It certainly pains me to watch her do this endless dance.

We’ve put a lot of money and effort into trying to keep her itchy skin comfortable, including special diets, medication, and pampering. Pet.Vet.Debt. Our younger schnauzer Tally rarely goes in the grass, preferring a patch of ivy, myrtle, or other ground cover. We used to call her “Myrtle” when we lived in Austin because she could never pass a deep green sea of it without disappearing below the leafy surface to do her business in private. It was often the only green you saw in the Texas heat, and Tally could always find it with her radar-like instincts. With our home now in a hilly Portland, Oregon neighborhood, she likes to climb the steep incline of ground cover that they’ve planted across our street to prevent erosion. She’ll stand at the top where the homes are situated looking down on Tinker, who rarely subjects her precious paws to the purple flowering vines that flourish in the damp shade. As a result, Tinker will only go on the flat, grassy side of our street, while Tally will only toilet on the hilly side, so I have to make sure to cross our lane when walking them.  Sometimes I’ll be in the middle of the street with one dog leash stretched to the flat side and the other uncoiled to the hilly side. Why does the dog walker cross the road?

As my wife gets ready to go to work each morning, she makes us each an egg to start the day. Tinker has learned that we will not give her a bite due to her long-standing allergy, so she retreats to my dark office and pouts during breakfast. We try to discreetly give Tally a couple of small bites of egg since she is rarely as enthusiastic about any other kind of food. Tinker apparently has caught us showing favoritism, when we’re really just trying to avoid the itch. She’s given up hanging around the breakfast table and shows her frustration by turning her back on us. We now call Tally, “Eggbert,” because of her love for eggs, and this additional attention probably further exasperates Tinker.

Tally likes her new name, and waits patiently by our feet for her share each morning. For her, it’s the greatest thing since “Ham Time.” (See Post #133). Historically, Egbert or Ecgbriht was king of the West Saxons in the years 802-839, and a male given name meaning “bright sword.” Tally feels like a king or a queen when she is treated special at the expense of Tinker, and the name “Eggbert” gives her special powers. Tinker, on the other hand, feels like we’ve stabbed her with a “sword” when we’re only trying to protect her. Sometimes dogs just don’t understand!