A lot of things are bringing me down, but one of them is my elderly Boston Terrier. First, a little snippet.
Someone asked in the last post about BT, what BT stood for. Brace yourselves for the creativity here… it stands for Boston Terrier. Before you judge Tim and I for the world’s most terrible dog name, you should hear the back story.
Although I was the one who brought BT into our lives (another story for another day), she was always Tim’s dog. In fact, I didn’t want to keep her after some early snarling from Eliot (foreshadowing), but Tim was smitten and insisted she stay. Being his dog, Tim needed to pick a name for the new alien dog creature. He spent days and days deliberating. Early after getting BT, we had scheduled a trip to go out of town so I left her with a friend to watch her while we were gone. Said friend took little Boston dog to a horse show that she was working at, and friend plus all the horse show friends just started calling the new dog “BT” for Boston Terrier.
We came back, and Tim officially named her Claudette… but we all know which name stuck.
Although I love my Claudette BT, she is driving me slowly insane.
BT was a puppy mill breeder dog that was pulled by a rescue before we got her. There were over 30 Bostons in a cage, and the amount of filth there was not ideal. BT lived for years knowing she needed to eat feces to survive, and that living in waste was totally normal. House training her was a night mare, because she doesn’t have the instincts many dogs do to keep her personal space clean. Even at much younger ages, she would have accidents out of spite or because she simply didn’t care to wait to go outside.
Flash forward now to her “double digits” (I don’t know how old she is), and it’s becoming a real problem. Though I suspect BT has been peeing in her bedding for years (I wash beds every week), now it’s either more frequent or more noticeable since I’m sharing a bathroom with her. If I come home every 4-5 hours and watch her like a hawk, we can get through a day with no accidents. If I live life normally (you know, doing things besides work and watching an elderly Boston Terrier at my apartment) she has accidents all the time. I haven’t been able to find a pattern or solution, but here are my observations:
- I have watched her fluff bedding as if she were to go to sleep, and then pee in it instead. Right in front of me.
- Some days she’s put up from 8am – 6pm with no accidents.
- Some nights she can’t make it from 10:30pm – 7:00am without accidents
- She wakes me up earlier and early every day, first starting at 7am and now it’s more like 6:30am… if I ignore her until I get up (around 7am) she will have accidents. This does not change the later I let her out at night.
- She ignores pee pads and won’t use them. Will pee on her bed or the floor next to her bed instead of pee pads
- I haven’t tried doggy diapers because I was iffy on how humane they were… but I’m getting desperate
I’m getting really, really frustrated. I don’t know if she’s having old age incontinence problems, or the move has just messed up her schedule so much she doesn’t care anymore… or both. Either way, I’m cleaning every day and doing way more dog laundry than I care to.
Overall, I feel like BT has a pretty good quality of life. She plays with Pascale (though not as much as she used to), enthusiastically eats her dinner and enjoys most of the chewies I give her. When I’m home, she kind of strolls around the house sniffing things. She’ll come up to me and lick my leg, or beg for food. Do I think she’s the world’s most stimulated dog intellectually? No. Could I sleep at night if I put her to sleep tomorrow? Probably not.
So there’s the problem. Ideas welcome.