Drac-Attack

The first Starbucks spokesdog? Probably.

Clean Drac is funny-looking. 

Dracula did not take well to camping, to say the least.

The first night in the tent he was bothered by the noises of nature and fellow campers, so I had to put him in his crate. I’m wracked with guilt that I fell asleep and left him in there all night, cold and alone. When we woke at 6:30am and sought warmth in the camper, he crawled around curiously, not stopping to avoid using my head as a walkway, for the next two hours.

We took him into town Saturday and he was a hit. Unfortunately he does not love strangers as much as they love him.

Tip: the following things are not cute or original. Don’t say them to us or any other small dog owners:

• you sure that’s a dog?
• look at the rat
• that thing looks vicious (this one is particularly funny to me though, because Dracula is quite vicious toward strangers)

At one point he was protecting me from a stranger and Dad got in the way, and Drac leapt toward him. When he yanked away he pulled his already troubling shoulder. This is both a bad and good thing: bad because he was in a lot of pain and it hurt the rest of the weekend, good because he has needed surgery for three years, and now he has to get it, thanks Dracula.

By the time we headed back to camp Dracula was beat. On our walk back he started tugging to the right. When we does this I usually follow him because he tugs rather strongly and I get as curious as he does. This time, he lead us to a van, under which he lied for shade. Thankfully for my sake, because otherwise I would have carried him, an air-conditioned van driven by a ranger pulled up and offered us a ride back to camp.

He had me worried the rest of the night. He was shaky and lethargic, and only wanted to lay underneath things. He perked up a bit when Dad grilled steak for Michael and I took him on two walks.

One odd thing, during one of his walks he pulled toward one of the hills near our camp. Like I said, I usually let him follow his instincts, but I was wearing TOMS so I was not about to hike up the hill. Eventually I followed him. He got about half way to the top and lied down, slanting with his butt in the air, nose pointing downward. I carried him back and he slept the rest of the night. 14 hours later from when he first lied down he awoke mostly recovered and ready to go home.

What a trooper.

Dracula hates two things: other dogs and water.

The dog beach is absolute torture for him, but I like the vibe there so much more than the dog park.

The first time we went, pictured above, I dunked him four times. Big mistake. I’m his person, the one thing seeks to protect and be with at all times (unless there’s food around). He doesn’t mind other people unless he thinks they’re going to harm me, but he certainly doesn’t go out of his way to sniff others.

But at the dog beach, he was legitimately looking for a new owner. When I stopped him from running to the car, he starting running up to strangers practically begging for attention.

I feel like he was really concerned with his coat, and not getting it wet or ruined. He’s such a sissy.

I had to put him back on the leash so we could stay without losing him, but then he was fine walking on the sand near the water.

We cuddled the whole drive home.

We went again today, and it did not going over well. He doesn’t have to love the water, but I’m determined to socialize him.