Hiking

I took Bella on a most magnificent hike this past Friday with a friend and her dog. The weather was chilly but gorgeously sunny with fall colors coming on strongly. The other dog is 6, almost 7, and tolerant of Bella, but not necessarily eager to play with her, much to Bella's chagrin.

There were streams and lakes throughout the hike, so the opportunities to retrieve were around every corner. At one of the lakes, we had to stop tossing sticks because she was shivering with cold, but determined to keep going. She hiked probably 6 miles that day and slept well that night!

The next day my husband took her on a small mountain bike ride—around 2.5 miles. He said she was banking her turns and barking with joy. The next day, she went kite boarding with him. Because of the cold and a pesky injury, my husband ended up not kiting, but playing on the beach with Bella. Oh happy girl!

Here she is in the van on top of all the equipment. Today has been a big let down with us both back at work. It's a dog's life!

Flash Back

With school starting up again, I haven't been able to write regularly (or at all). I never posted about our vacation and it's enough in the past, that I am no longer in the mood to write about it. However, I do want to say that Bella did beautifully. Within the first week we stopped using the crate when we went off biking and I'm not sure why we chose to do that. I always left her with a stuffed Kong and the van—and Bella—were fine when we returned. The only things we lost to her chewing was one magazine (which we gave her) and two rolls of toilet paper (to which she helped herself).

I took her hiking and her Aussie traits kicked in. Although I started her on a leash, I wanted to see how she'd do off-leash. At four months, I felt confident in her need to be with us that I doubted she'd run off, though I knew I was taking a risk. Again, she did beautifully. She'd go part way up a trail, stop and wait until I caught up. The trait I was not happy with was her nipping. In her excitement to get going, keep going or return, she'd start barking and nipping at me. Bad! When this started, I made her sit and rewarded her for complying. The disreputable behavior subsided.

We also tried her on very, very short mountain bike rides (under three miles). She stayed right with us. What a joy! She'll be a great mountain biking dog when she gets a bit older. Oh! And did I mention she figured out swimming on this trip? That's her labby side. Previously, she'd tiptoe into the water, but never chose to swim. At one point, she just walked into a lake and began paddling!

Of course when we returned home and reverted to "normal" life, it wasn't as "fun" for her. I had to return to work, she had to be sequestered when I left. No fabulous new smells and new woods to encounter. However, I think the camping trip also helped in other ways. It finally trained her regarding peeing indoors. The van was too little (like a crate). She's been stellar ever since.

Spayed

It happens to most city girls. Before they've even achieved adolescence they are medically altered to "it-dom." Our girl is just five months. I know it's for the best and I know it eliminates chances of some cancers, but you can't help but feel miserable for them.

Puppies definitely recover quickly, however. The first two days after the surgery, Bella was on drugs and although I was hesitant to use them, the vet warned about mitigating the pain the pup was in whether she showed it or not. (I certainly remember the pain I was in after the same surgery!) A friend who has two poodles used a funny, life preserver-looking collar on one of them and lent one to us. It's much better than "The Cone" and Bella got used to it quickly. She looks a bit like a flower, or a circus animal, or as my husband calls her, "Disco Dog." Many people have stopped and asked why she's wearing it. On the back of the tube it warns against using if for a life preserver.

By day 3, her activity level shot up. And now, 10 days after the surgery, her energy level is normal. Her stitches will be removed within the hour. No more life preserver around her neck. (I had it off today for about an hour and she started chewing the stitches. Guess she can wear it a little longer.) It will be nice not to have her banging into me on walks. I'm sure she'll appreciate being able to maneuver around without smacking things (although as a puppy I don't think she really cared). Sleeping should be nicer for her.

Trial Run

We did a trial run for camping this past weekend getting ready for three weeks on the road. Bella took over the van "couch." Nary a second thought—it was hers. (This will require steadfast work on our part to convince her it isn't always hers.)

She was able to finagle a huge stick into the van as evidenced by the blurry picture. It isn't, of course, in the van in the shot. She was working up to that. She worked the angle, the run in and the leap.

And like all good dogs, she recognized the packing phase for what it was. FUN TRIP AHEAD! How do they learn this so quickly?

A small concern is that she just entered the "brat" phase. I'm a little leery of three weeks in close quarters, but am hoping the exercise and excitement of new environments will sufficiently tucker her out!

Teething

Bella lost her front teeth (top and bottom) a couple of weeks ago. For a few days she had nothing up front to tear with, but her adult teeth didn't take long to break the surface. For another couple of days, she had a double layer on the bottom (baby and adult teeth next to her canines) so we named her The Land Shark.

Her other teeth must be loose, as we're seeing blood on some of the things on which she chews. She has also become a prolific drooler. We're hoping this is just because of teething; it's so unbecoming in a girl-dog!

Mountain Biking

We took Bella for a 1/2 mile mountain bike ride yesterday. I know puppies should not run on a regular basis. Not good for their growth plates. But a 1/2 mile (if that), I figured was okay. I wanted to see how she did off leash and with bicycles on the trail. Stellar!

Her Aussie heritage came to the fore. She was constantly waiting for the last person to catch up. She stayed on the trail. She came when called. What a good puppy!

Clean Puppy

Bella gets a bath!

Getting the grimy ears clean!

Looking almost dog-like!

Hot!

Yesterday the airport recorded 103 degrees. A record for us, but not the highest temp in the area. Some local communities got up to 106! The last time I looked at the in-house thermometer it was 96. That's indoors. (This morning at 5:30AM it was pegged at 84.)

I bought a kiddie pool for Bella, but during the day all she did was drink from it. One front paw went in, but nothing else. I stuffed her Kong with ice cubes and that satisfied her until they melted and we were back to the heat. It was, in fact, too hot to even be sitting outside in the shade, so the majority of the day we were in the basement. I wish I knew what the temp was there. It was cooler, but it certainly wasn't cool.

Around 9PM we went into the back and Bella re-discovered the pool. I wish I could take action shots because she was having a ball trying to dig to the bottom of the pool. No lying in it, but she spread so much water by digging that she was soaked. And what happens to a cooled down puppy? Solid action! She went flying around the yard making three laps, before going back to the pool for another dig!

I'll look at the phone pictures I took and see if they are worth posting.

Mood Reversal

Did I say "I love my puppy" yesterday? Well, I do, but by last night I wasn't so sure. She peed downstairs on the carpet. Mea Culpa. I got a phone call and ran upstairs to take it and didn't take Bella. She's gone two weeks without an accident, but obviously doesn't yet know the appropriate pee spot.

The weather has been abysmally hot (mid to high 90s) and I find my temperament drops with each degree of heat. So I was angry when I came back down and spotted the puddle. (I did not shame the puppy, but cleaned it up and took the puppy upstairs and outside.)

In trying to escape the heat, we went to the river for a quick dip. It revved the puppy and she got spunky, bouncy and bitey—and took the opportunity to bite the leash and me. NO BITES! My momentarily cooled off temperament took another nose dive. I spent the rest of the evening away from the puppy and let my husband deal with her. I knew I wasn't capable at that point of being reasonable and I didn't want her to be the recipient of my foul mood.

Today is supposed to be even warmer topping out (I hope!) the day after at 100. I am doing some private instruction mid-day and can only hope the location is air-conditioned. Waking up to find the temperature already in the 70s at 5AM, just makes me a grouch at the start. I don't know how I survived living in the Midwest. I find this weather completely debilitating.

I love my puppy!

I know Bella isn't unique and all new owners feel similarly about their own pup, but I LOVE MY PUPPY! Here is a terribly blurry picture that doesn't show how absolutely adorable and smart and cute she is, but I like the picture none-the-less. She was completely inside the milk carton, but jumped out when I snapped. Why was she there? Exploring!

We just finished puppy class today. She is not the best behaved in class; she doesn't often play with the others. She scavenges for left over kibbles that may have been dropped. Or she goes person to person and sits politely in front of them waiting for a handout because she knows sitting gets food. How could you not love her to pieces?

Too Long

I apologize for the long gaps between posts. No one told me having a puppy was so time consuming! We've also had lots going on besides the puppy—our house was recently burgled and we just finished up a stint of dog sitting.

Bella grows by leaps and bounds both physically and mentally. She is more able to do "dog" things. Whereas a couple of weeks ago, running wasn't really figured out, she's looking more dog-like when she runs. She leaped into the van for the first time yesterday. It may have been a fluke as she saw her half-sister, Molly, do it. Bella went in right after her. She also took a flying leap off a three-step platform clearing all the steps in her enthusiasm.

We feel like proud parents over her increasing abilities. "Isn't she clever?" we remark. I'm glad we're saying these things in the confine of our home. I'm a bit embarrassed how gushy we are.

Here's a great picture of her with her favorite companion. I'm sure Molly loves Bella despite Bella's "remora" tendencies, but Bella absolutely adores Molly. The day after Molly went home, Bella slept nearly the entire day.

Bella is Settling In

Bella is settling in. In previous posts I mentioned what at first I thought was aggression, but now realize is rough play. She's a vocal player like Lucy and it sounds vicious, but it merely talk. Sometimes she gets overamped (like a child) and plays too roughly, but a momentary separation seems to solve that.

She plays beautifully with her half-sister, Molly. Plays to the point they are both exhausted. She has gone camping with us and behaves beautifully in the van. We have her in a large soft crate and she'll most likely curl up and sleep or quietly gnaw on a chew. Here she is on a hot, hot day. The heat combined with many new experiences, people, other dogs, kids, kite boarders, water, wind...well, it tuckers out a girl!

Reality Relief

After posting the "attack" issue in a couple of fabulous dog forums, I feel more human again. From my sister-in-law to everyone in the forums, the consensus was one incident does not indicate an aggressive dog. Sunday afternoon and Monday, I took Bella to an area where a lot of folks walk their dogs and none elicited the reaction she showed with the little lab. Not even close. She met dogs of all different sizes, ages and temperaments and was universally well-behaved. I still want to be alert to the potential, but it's no longer consuming me.

I must admit today, however, I am exhausted from puppy parenting. I know these puppy traits will pass and with them will be a certain nostalgia, but the constant monitoring is all-consuming and really makes me wonder why on earth someone in their mid-50s would choose to have a child! I can barely keep up with a puppy and that is tons easier in comparison.

I'm on a new scheme to train in small increments throughout the day. Over and over and over again. No session is terribly long, but just enough repetition for her to get some of these commands ingrained. Biting is a big issue and that has to stop. She's also nipping at legs...herding dog. That will also have to stop.

The other big one is starting and stopping on walks. Ten feet forward, sit, another ten, lay down, another ten, sit. I've got to figure out a way around that and it may be with food although every time she gets a kibble, she sits to eat it. 100 chews. Mother would be proud.

Awful!

Today in our first puppy class, Bella attacked another, smaller puppy. The pup was about a quarter of her size and quite shy, but not submissive. All the puppies seemed to dominate this one, but none attacked. Bella got over the top of her and went for her neck. Before I could even react, the instructor swooped in and removed Bella. No shouts, no "No!"—just got her out of the situation.

I've written so frequently about the turmoil with Lucy's aggression and how it dominated everything we did. The last thing I wanted was another dog to have this same issue. When I spoke with the instructor after class, she said (in so many words), if Bella was showing this behavior now, it was part of her personality. I don't think this is the place to swear, but I'm certainly thinking that way. I am so horribly discouraged.

I know she's young and I know I have the advantage of time and training on my side, but I donotdonotdonot want another aggressive dog!

Love Fest

Here is Bella snoozing on my husband's leg. Oh! Such a lovely puppy!

Bella has done two nights with only one mid-night wake-up. Five hours of crossing her legs successfully! It's been great. Though I find myself still in a bit of a sleep-deprived fog, I know real sleep is not too far away.

I took her in the car yesterday and will again today. Tomorrow is her first shots from the vet, though she did get the first puppy shots from her breeder. On Sunday we begin puppy class. For these two events, I want to make sure that I am able to successfully travel with her. I'm presently using her bed (crate) for this and it seems to work well.

I'm excited about the class starting up and am eager to see her with the other puppies. Although we've been doing a moderate amount of training (name recognition, leash walking, sit, a bit of come), I want to get started with guided training. My husband says I know what how to train a dog and that's probably true. None-the-less, I haven't worked with a puppy in decades and want the guidance. It's the clicker training which I'm excited to try.

Bella's Home!

Bella is here and my! What a puppy! We're thrilled to pieces and exhausted from all the middle of the night outings. She's been very good about letting me know when "it's time." A bit of squirming in her box which is by my side of the bed is enough to let me know to take her outside.

Everyone exclaims over her cuteness and of course, I have to agree. In reality, what puppy isn't cute? But since she's mine, she probably is the cutest of all.

She's fairly mellow for an 8-week old and able to self-entertain. Separation is a bit of a problem; she doesn't want me out of her sight, but once she figures out the situation, she quiets down.

She's met Hannah (a friend's 14-year old pup), Molly (Bella's cousin—same mom, different dads), Amber, Annie, Josie and Cherry—the neighborhood dog crew. She is a bit intimidated by the younger, bouncier ones (Amber, Molly and Cherry), but very enamored with Annie and Hannah who are old, sedate, about the size of her mom and similar coloring.

Puppy Kindergarten starts Sunday at
Ahimsa. I signed up for classes beginning on Monday, but with confusion happening between the vet, shots and class schedules, that fell through and I lost the opportunity. Bella gets her second set of shots on Saturday and that's where the glitch was; she needed those for the vet's okay. The owner at Ahimsa offered the Sunday class and although I originally bulked at that day and time, I think it will be great. One it's with the owner and two, it's early enough that there will be plenty of time with the rest of the day to play.

So into the land of puppydom we go!

Tomorrow!

Tomorrow is our lucky day! The puppy comes home! Today will include last minute frantic scurrying to get us ready. I need to get some chicken wire to fence off the veggie beds (the rest of the gardens will be on their own), the big crate needs to be set up and the baby-gates found.

Will the puppy like us?

Bringing in Supplies

I am so excited. It's funny how much different I feel about this puppy versus the sweet Tucker. I find myself quite 'ga-ga' over the puppy's imminent arrival and perhaps that's the calm before the storm. The basement is stocked with puppy food, treats and toys. Reading is frenetic. The orientation last night was exhilarating.

Who is this puppy? The thing I keep thinking is that for a while it will be pandemonium, and then...and then...it will be bliss. Yes, there will be ups and downs and whys and hows and all the things that go with dog-owning. But unless this puppy is a complete bomb (which I don't anticipate), there will be all the years of dog-owning bliss when I look into that furry face and glow with love and pride and happiness that this pup is part of my family!

Restart

It seems longer than it's been since I've posted and like much of life, so much has happened! We had a lovely Memorial weekend, but it was odd being dogless. The flip side was nice though—there were no issues about what to do and when, nor how to accomplish it with a dog. And then the phone call about the aussie-lab puppies...

A friend joined me to look at the five pups. She's a "puppy aficionado," so I'm uncertain whether it was advantageous to bring her along or not! Talk about aiding and abetting!

The pups were kept in a barn stall and were in the process of being weaned from their mom. The mama dog is absolutely wonderful: very petite, very nurturing, very attentive. Her five pups were a mix of her and her handsome consort: two black girls, a black merle boy (the only boy), a brown merle girl, and a tri-colored girl. The tri was already spoken for, so the others were available for consideration.

I fell for a little black girl who exhibited typical lab characteristics—happy go-lucky and friendly, such a delightful dufus! Yet I found the little brown merle girl interesting too. Initially the brown merle was a bit too independent for my liking, but as I watched her quietly explore, I became quite smitten. When she tuckered, she came over and laid down beside me. What's not to like?

Four days later, I took my husband (resigned and silent) out to see them. [Can we have a shaft of sunlight beaming down on us and heavenly music playing?] I have never seen someone do such a complete 180! He kept exclaiming how cute the puppies were while he played and laughed and patted them. The little brown merle took a shine to him and for the next hour, stayed by his side. So guess who we're bringing home? The posted picture is from my first visit when she was six weeks old and just about to konk out from an hour's worth of play.

It's been nearly two weeks since we've seen her; we wanted her a solid eight weeks old. I get to pick her up Friday morning and my same puppy-friend is coming along. We don't have a name yet, though the list of potential names is long. I'm excited to see how much she's changed in that time. All the other puppies are gone except for the little tri girl, so luckily our pup still had her sibling and mama there for comfort.

Last night I attended an orientation for puppy training and classes begin in two weeks. I have a stack of puppy books laying in the breakfast nook. I'm dreaming, thinking, stressing, happily contemplating all things puppy. More later when she's joined the fold!

New Day

I dropped Tucker off last week. His foster mom is a wonderful, easy-going woman. She was going to take Tucker sheep-herding this past weekend. I hope it went well; I think he'd like it.

When I dropped him off, he immediately started playing with his buddy and that certainly eased the transition for me. His foster mom sent me an email letting me know he's paced the gate when I left, but went back to playing with his dog friends, so Tuck will be okay.

The friend that joined me on this sad, but good trip said I should get a lab. I don't think of myself as a lab person, but what should happen? The owner of my in-laws great aussie called to tell me their wonderful little girl dog commingled with the neighbor's black lab and now has 5 week old puppies as proof? Destiny? I'll go look...

A short lived affair

I've been in tears all day struggling with this decision, but I feel I have to return Tucker. He is the sweetest boy and wants so badly to please, but our environment is not a good match for him. I believe he needs more stimulation than we can provide him. He barks/yips in the yard, house, car. Whether an obsession or a bad habit, it is a very large part of his personality—at least here. Perhaps he needs more space or a dog buddy—or more likely, a job.

Last night our neighbors were over. The mom is a vet tech and her daughter is around six and dog-savvy. They've both met Tucker before and the little girl has patted him. She's a very quiet little girl—and this is an understatement. Tucker was leashed to me. The little girl was very gently petting him, she wasn’t jumping or squeaking—or even speaking. When she stopped, Tucker starting nipping at her clothes. There is not a mean bone in his body, all he wanted to do was play. She didn't react and actually thought it was kind of fun. However, I immediately said “No!” and put Tucker on a down, then removed him from the situation.

Neither mom nor daughter were frightened or bothered by it, he didn’t make contact with skin, but I know that nipping is what he was bred to do. He nips at me if I race by him. I can’t help thinking in a different situation, if I should have my head turned and a small child comes running by…

My husband and I had a long talk about it last night and again this morning trying to determine the best next step. Tucker is a beautiful little boy dog who is very sweet and exhibits traits for which he was bred. I understand the learning curve with a new dog. I know training is a long process and needs to be viewed with the big picture/long term goals in mind. However, this made us assess our lifestyle and dog needs with his needs/breed.

Packworks felt Tuck was a medium-high drive dog. My take is he'd be happiest with a job whether it is actually working or working with someone who can consistently and regularly provide him with something to do (herding, agility). Not piecemeal, not every once and a while, not miles of long walks. (Even the seven miles yesterday didn't slow him down much.) If he isn't regularly engaged (and toys don't seem to hold his attention for very long), he isn't happy/is bored. I play with him in the yard, but if he loses interest in the game, there's the sky to deal with. I am not able to give him the amount of attention he seems to need.

We've been working on the leash and it still needs work. He sits for his dinner, waits to go out the door, walks my pace down stairs. He's very smart and very tender. While crying, he was curled at my feet. What is not to love about this dog? But for his sake and ours, I think he needs a different family.

Calmer...at least for now

I think Packworks missed the boat on Tucker. They had great ideas, but for the wrong dog. In 24 hours, he became a much different animal and not one I wanted. Today I walked him around seven miles in three different walks and he's back to sweet.

He still sky barked. Bad. Really bad. But perhaps if I keep him tethered to me I can stop it.

I'm also going to take some obedience classes, either starting this week or early June. Classes were not recommended by the trainers, but I think it will be a good solution and good for bonding.

I'll keep Tucker another week.

Pulling My Hair Out

One week down the hatch and what a hatch it is! Tucker is obsessive/compulsive about the sky. He tears around the yard, eyes fixed skyward, barking. It doesn't matter if a bird, contrail, or plane is in sight; he's over the top about it. Same in the house if he can look out a window. I hate this and don't know how to deal with it!

Packworks said to keep his world small and only walk him in the backyard, but after one day, he's gone from a sweet boy to a snippy boy. Awful. I took him back into the neighborhood this morning and though he pulled, it was better for both of us. Where's the mental stimulation from walking the backyard? He didn't look at me while doing it, but at the sky. Periodically he'd flop down and I'd be dragging him until he got up. What is this proving? If this is leadership, I say someone else can have it!

He won't poop (yet) while on a leash, so of course he went inside. Not his fault. This has me so on edge I can barely stand it!

Tucker

Tucker is either a short-coated border collie or a border collie/cattle dog cross. Neither the rescue nor the vet were positive. He's somewhere between 1-2 years old and a fine little dog. I did bite off a handful considering his breed and his desire for chase...cats, small kids. Not all bring it out or should I say, not all create a wreck out of both of us. All entice him: cats, kids, dogs, people, cars, but to see a couple in a row put him in hyper drive. One alone, we can manage. Thank heavens he's little, but I don't want to turn him (and me) into whirling dervishes.

Oh. Did I mention he's also a jumper? And a counter surfer?

I've taken him to the vet and he got a clean bill of health. I'm hoping to set up an appointment with an organization called Packworks. The rescue folks recommended it because of Tucker's shyness. Another neighbor recommended because of the great advice they gave him on his rescue dog.

So Mr. Tuck is not a poodle, nor an Aussie. He does shed. My skin is reacting. And right now, I questions my sanity. I'm hoping he'll be just fine.

Another Possibility

I looked at a dog this past weekend. What a handsome boy! I had a couple of reservations though. He's only been at this foster home a couple of weeks. He has two wonderful acres to roam, three other dogs to play with, two cats to chase and fields worth of bunnies. So understandably, he was not particularly focused on me. Of course, that was disappointing, but pushing my ego aside, I understand (and hope) that's something that would change. When he did come up, he was very willing and eager for loving.

However, he is also very shy. His foster mom said he probably was an outside dog without a lot of human or canine interaction so new things overwhelm him. It is possible this shyness could evolve into aggression without the proper leadership and training. Would this be easy to do or would it be a constant part of owning Jake? God bless, Lucy, but I don't want another dog whom I need to continually monitor. I want a dog who is confident without being aggressive, friendly without being in your face, and is compliant but not lacking esteem.

When in doubt...

I sent an email to my vet asking her for her feedback on health and personality of aussies and standard poodles. Those two breeds seem to be my focus du jour and I thought she'd have a good perspective on them. Of course, I do understand that once I'm in the grips of a puppy, I may buy by the heart—and I hope that's the case! None-the-less, I'd like her opinion. She is not only a vet, but does a lot of outside activities (agility, etc.) with her dogs. Plus, as a vet, she sees them in their time of need, so can assess if either breed is more prone to certain issues.

Off the subject of breeds, but equally important, I came across this blog entry today. Since I've used many of those questionable products on Lucy, I find this interesting. Did the flea solution have something to do with her cancer?

Looking at Poodles

I met some great standard poodles recently. They were quite small (37 and 43 pounds, I think), but large enough to not be confused for a miniature. They were lovely and sweet and well-mannered.

As a child, my mother had been told that if she insisted on getting a dog, she should get a poodle as I was allergic. What amazed me about these dogs, was how my hands didn't react at all when I petted them. It was very surprising as I am so used to my hands getting itchy when I touch a new dog. Whenever I've brought a new pup home, it's taken a while for my skin to adjust to the dander, etc. But with the poods, nothing.

I Miss My Girl

I miss my girl. I miss my girl. I miss my girl.

Oh...

I just got a call from a good friend. Their dog, who we've taken care of over the past decade, is being put to sleep today. She has a brain tumor that can no longer be controlled by drugs. She's had five seizures in the past week. One of her owners is overseas and was concerned about leaving because of this. My heart breaks for both of them, for her being away, for him having to take their pup in and return to an empty house without either his dog or his partner. Losing your dog leaves a pit in your heart that is enormous.

Rest in peace, Ms. Suki.

Identity

Because Lucy and I were such a familiar sight in the neighborhood, I am often stopped and asked where she is. People aren't accustomed to seeing me dog-less. I am pleased I still walk the 'hood twice a day and for the first time in years, I'm traveling through different neighborhoods. And there in lies the rub...

I grew up with dogs even though I was allergic. My mother decided it was better I learn to live with and care for animals than have an itch-free existence—and for her own need to own a dog, I'm grateful. Throughout my childhood, there was always a dog, big, little, smart, gregarious—it didn't matter. Dalmatians, dachshunds, retrievers, mutts... When I moved out of our house into my first apartment, I was dog-less, but I didn't feel like I was. I lived close enough to my mother and visited frequently where there was always a dog at home.

It was only when I moved west that I truly was without a furry face. That lasted just shy of two years. Getting a dog, being responsible for someone other than myself, was my first step towards "growing up." It instantly modified my behavior. And how lucky I was that Suzy was such an amazing dog! When she passed away, it only took a couple of weeks before Lucy came to live with us. But now that Lucy is gone, it's been two months—and that's just the start of it.

I find I'm not frantic for a dog, though being without a dog is curious. I don't go into a store without thinking I should look for dog treats or toys. I still save plastic bags for scooping. I don't go on walks (although I'm training myself to call it that), but dog walks. Being on vacation last weekend without Lucy in the van with us, made me feel as if we'd forgotten something. I continually imagine her in the house. Not literally anymore, but in the figurative sense. The "if I was here, she'd be there" thought process.

Many friends—and even my students—ask when are you getting another one? I wonder the same thing. I've never considered being without a dog. I assumed one would always be in my life. Is this a new me? When will I get another dog...or will I?

My response has been consistent. For all her fabulous qualities, Lucy's dog aggression was stressful. It was something that I had to always monitor, it limited where I went and what I did. Plus the last three years of her life were fraught with medical issues which were equally emotionally debilitating. What did she have? How much would it cost? Would she be okay? And on, and on...

So I am not in a rush to have a pup again. I'm going through the steps. I'm having a "home check" down by one of the rescue organizations. I look on the internet and have been to the humane society, but no little face has called to me without me thinking of the work involved. I am liking my freedom to go anywhere at anytime to do anything. I am liking how clean the house is. I am liking there are no spousal disagreements on dog care.

But somehow I feel that's sacrilegious...

Give and Take

I've been having interesting conversations recently. They have been from the pro-no-dog folks—people who previously had a dog, but now do not. The bottom line is they wanted to do something else and the dog(s) held them back. One couple does extensive overseas bike rides. This is something my husband and I have often talked about and would love to do, but could not/would not because of the dog.

The dilemma for me is do I choose not to have a dog because I'd be gone for a certain length of time, when the majority of time, I'd be at home? We've often talked about traveling overseas, but with the recent dollar exchange, we decided this continent would be more affordable and equally enjoyable. And this continent, at least on this side of the southern border, we can easily take a dog.

Also, a friend reminded me, I am a homebody. I love camping, but I love my home and garden. Do I really want to be gone for months at a time? As fun as the van is, it's small! As an adult, the longest I've been gone is a month and we took the dog with us. It was during the winter and the garden could manage on its own. I don't really want to go during our summer as it's so nice here.

So what's a girl to do?

There's a little pup I passed up on. Perfect size; sounds like a lovely little personality. We weren't ready. I am so uncertain about this!

Patience

One of my students got a rescue dog recently. The dog is a lot of work for her and we were laughing about the learning curve both the owner and dog go through getting used to each other. Each class she asks if another dog has come into my life and I can honestly say, "It will happen, when it happens."

Yes, I am actively submitting applications in the Border Collie rescue, but I am not pursuing the dog to the point of obsession. My student said the reason why I didn't hear back from the rescue people and it's something I should have known. As the pup is globally exposed, the number of applications must be staggering. Of course they can't get back to me right away! If I wasn't the first application in, I could have been the 100th or 200th! That makes me even happier. I can apply without anxiety. It will happen when it happens.

We are taking our first vacation without Lucy this weekend. A short trip and only for the weekend, but it feels so strange to not be packing all of her things. The van will seem big and empty.

Pause

Yesterday was the first sunny day we've had in weeks. It felt wonderfully spring-like...enough to mow the lawn for the first time this year. It was also time to complete our time with Lucy and spread her ashes. How hard. Just when I thought I was done grieving, the loss was revisited.

When our first dog passed away, we spread her ashes on the north side of our house in the garden where she liked to sleep. For Lucy, we decided the south side through which gate she preferred to escape (until we became savvy to her methods). Emotions were as volatile as the ash of our sweet, long-legged girl let loose.

We saved some of her ashes and afterward took them mountain biking to a local trail system we often ride in the winter when higher routes are snow-covered. Where I would have dribbled the ash as we rode, my husband, who was carrying her ashes, chose to put them at certain spots. It was much more appropriate. When we'd ride with Lucy, she and my husband were always ahead of me and they had their own games they'd play. In some spots, Lucy would race my husband in straight-aways or cut through woods to short cut the trail and get out in front. He knew all those spots and at each one, we'd stop and he'd relate why he was putting the ash there. It was very tender and a wonderful way for him to say good-bye to his favorite dog companion.

Yesterday took the wind out of my new-dog-cravings. It seems sacrilegious to bring another pup into the home. I think we need a bit more time saying good-bye to Lucy.

Rebuttal for why NOT to get a dog

I got this rebuttal for my cons. Will I be aided and abetted at each turn? It looks like it! :)

1. The house is cleaner.
I won't be bothered by trivial stuff if I have a dog to play with.

2. I don't have to be home at any certain time.
I'll be glad to be home on time because of what greets me!

3. I don't have go on a walk if it's pouring.
I'll get to enjoy a tour of the natural world with my friend.

4. No spousal disagreements regarding care.
My spouse and I will have a stronger relationship because we have a mutual being to be responsible for.

5. Cheaper.
I'll get rich being paid in wags and shiny eyed looks.

6. We can go anywhere at anytime without worrying about the dog.
I won't wander aimlessly through my life.

7. The yard/garden is free of destruction.
I will have a reason to be outside more.

8. We can leave the garage open.
Your garage will be closed to prevent theft of property.

9. We don't have to worrying about who/how to board the dog.
I will have so much joy sharing my dog with the wonderful people I search out.

10. No training time.
I will have the mental stimulation of training another species to live happily in the world he's in.

11. No heartbreak.
I will get to experience a full lifespan in a way that we humans rarely get to do with each other.

Possibilities

There are two dogs at the local shelter that have caught my eye.

Like a retriever is hard-wired to retrieve or a border collie is hard-wired to herd, I am hard-wired to have a dog. I spoke with my husband last night and even though I told him I'd trytrytry to wait a year before getting another pup, I have serious doubts about my success rate as it has been nearly two months and look where I am! Thank heavens he understands me and knows not to plead his (losing) case too hard. A dog is in his future. Luckily for me—and the future dog—my husband is a softie even though he might profess otherwise.

I keep reminding myself of the work involved. I ponder the benefits of a rescue dog that has been socialized in another home. With this pup I'd have some proof if the dog was housebroken, destructive, had behavior issues, was dog aggressive, rode well in a car, etc. With a pound puppy, all I have is the intake sheet where the owner may or may not have told the truth. But the pound puppy would have more need of a stable home.

When I think back on Suzy, I was totally oblivious and blessed. I found an incredible dog that was born to mind. She was incredibly intelligent. We were connected at the hip. She saw me through a string of boyfriends and made it clear who was worthy or not—and I trusted her opinion. (She loved my husband right off the bat.) When I saw Lucy, I fell in love with her boisterousness; so different than serious Suzy. But Lucy was a handful her whole life—a love, a delightful goofball, but a handful. Very different hound dogs.

Someone on a dog forum told me to write a list of what I did and didn't want in a dog. Hm-m. I doubt this list covers everything, but as a start:

1. Connects with my husband & me
2. Minds/well-mannered
3. Healthy
4. Confident
5. Friendly with dogs and children
6. Good, but controllable energy
7. Ability to mountain bike

What I don't want:

1. Sickly or genetic problems (hip issues, epilepsy, etc.)
2. Aggressive
3. Hyper or lethargic
4. Fearful
5. Doesn't obey

Is that too much to ask? The sad thing is there are hundreds of great dogs out there that fit the bill. If I'm lucky, I'll find one. If I don't get a pup now, there will always be another fine hound in the waiting. I wish that wasn't the case.

Epilogue #1
I didn't go. I didn't stop at the Humane Society; I came straight home. I made a bet with myself that if it was raining, I'd refrain. However, I am weak when it comes to a fuzzy face. If it becomes sunny, I may hop in the car.

Wow. I sound really weak, no will power. This is a serious case of the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. Next weekend, weather permitting, we're going on a short trip. It would be nice to do it dogless. To try and do it dogless. Okay, maybe I need to make a list of all the good things about not having a dog.

1. The house is cleaner.
2. I don't have to be home at any certain time.
3. I don't have go on a walk if it's pouring.
4. No spousal disagreements regarding care.
5. Cheaper.
6. We can go anywhere at anytime without worrying about the dog.
7. The yard/garden is free of destruction.
8. We can leave the garage open.
9. We don't have to worrying about who/how to board the dog.
10. No training time.
11. No heartbreak.

So what's good about a dog?

1. Fuzzy face.
2. Sense of humor.
3. Unconditional love.
4. Companionship.
5. Protection.
6. Ice breaker. (I know many people in the neighborhood because of dog walks.)
7. Give a toss-away a good home.

It seems like the cons are more plentiful than the pros. So why the need? That's the question.

What next?

I am not ready yet, but I come from a long line of dog owners—people for whom a dog is a family member. Growing up, when one dog passed away, within a very short time, we had another. My mother felt it was her duty to give a dog a home. Not a fancy, pedigreed pooch, but some poor cast-off who was housed at a shelter. That mindset has been thoroughly inculcated in our family and my siblings have embraced it enthusiastically. Surprisingly, after we all separately lost our last dogs, we didn't spring into action, but waited. My sister waited nearly a year (unheard of!) and my brother is now out six months. It's been a month since Lucy passed and though I know I eventually will have another pup, I don't feel the need to rush.

When that pup arrives, I want to make sure I'm prepared...or as prepared as one can be. Lucy, my head-strong, lovely lass was allowed to walk at the end of her lead. She didn't pull, but she was "out front." The new pup will not have that luxury. With Lucy, it was a mistake and irresponsible of me to let her do this. Being aggressive and out in front meant I had no control over Lucy when a loose (aggressive or not) dog approached. Unfortunately this left Lucy to make her own (often inappropriate) decision on how to handle the situation.

And what kind of pup do I want? For some reason I have a rescued Border Collie on the brain, though I am not sure we would be the best household for a BC. Yes, it would be walked twice a day and yes, it would have many mountain-biking opportunities, but is that enough exercise/stimulation for that dog? And what about a shelter dog? I'm so concerned about pit bull being mixed in (a shelter dog) that I'm leery about adopting from that source. Size dog? I think I want smaller. Lucy wasn't that big, but big enough that it wasn't easy to pick her up.

I guess the nice thing about this time is it provides reflection. What did I do right (or wrong) in training my girl? How can I improve? What breed mix is good for us? When do we want to take on another dog? I can look on-line at rescue and shelter dogs and ponder without purchasing. I can muse without making the move. Hopefully I'll the opportunity when it presents itself.

Missing My Girl

I didn't think I'd be writing any more...at least not about Lucy and not so soon. After the initial heart break of losing her, I went through the denial period where I was not interested in any dogs. That's changed. I just returned from a short trip with girl friends and two of them have two dogs apiece. Naturally, there was a lot of dog-talk.

When I returned home, stepping off the plane and seeing my husband was wonderful, but entering an empty house with no Lucy to greet me was like watching a play where the last act was canceled. The house was empty and flat.

I may be getting a new pup sooner than I thought. I try to think of all the crummy things about dog-owning to keep myself distanced, but fact of the matter, that furry face is able to break down all sorts of boundaries.

Found Picture

My husband was looking through his phone and found this picture of Lucy. It was from our January trip, taken in the Mojave desert. Isn't she beautiful?

A Great Vet

I've mentioned this before, and here I go again, but Kate Schottman and her team at Sunset Pet Hospital are truly a notch above. Not only did Kate, the owner and main vet, send me a touching personal card, but the staff sent their own joint card. Today, I received a letter from WSU's College of Veterinary Medicine that Sunset had sent a donation to them in Lucy's name. The donation here goes into continued research. Some other little pup (or pet) may live longer because of it. I am not naive enough to think this is unique to us, nor that it doesn't promote continued business for Sunset. However, I think it is indicative of the style of that clinic—caring, compassionate and great. I would never go anywhere else with a pet.

My good, good friend Betsy sent a donation to PAWS in Lucy's name also. Now some other discarded pets will have a better chance at food and care. Lucy is happy about both of these. I know it.

Ashes to Ashes...

They called yesterday; Lucy's remains were ready. I picked them up with much trepidation, but she sits on the desk beside me. At first, because I was uneasy, I thought I'd leave the box in the basement—after all, she slept there much of the time. Yet that seemed a bit bleak, so I brought her upstairs. Eventually I opened the cardboard box uncertain of what I'd find...a bag? A box? There was a gray urn. We decided we'll scatter some of her ashes here and some on one of the trails where we took her mountain biking. He said it's only ceremony and not really necessary, but we both feel its an important step—closure—to a dog life well lived.

Many of our friends have elderly dogs and I'm so sorry for what they'll also soon have to experience. When I was growing up, my mother would get another dog rapidly after we lost one. Her motive wasn't to replace the first pet, but to honor it by giving another "cast off" another chance. I couldn't agree more. When our first dog passed away after 18 magnificent years, I doubt I waited two weeks before bringing Lucy home. This time, however, I feel no urgency. Yes, I did tell my husband I'd try to wait a year, but even more than that is the time I need to heal. Lucy was sick for over two years with something (back, nose and cancer). I need to be away from that sadness for some time before I'm willing to take on another pup and its issues. For me, that means remaining dogless for some time.

Waves

It is the seventh day. Mostly I'm pretty good. Yesterday, for whatever reason was difficult though. I took myself on a couple of dogless dogwalks and tried to go places that I no longer took Lucy. However, even that made me sad.

Some friends stopped by in the late afternoon and ended up staying for dinner which was a great break. They gave us a card that tore me to shreds. It was written 'from Lucy' and thanked us for such a good life. Having put her to sleep, to get a thank you...even if written by Kathleen...cracked whatever reserve I'd built up. I still feel raw this morning.

Multiple Stages of Grief

I know some people find ludicrous the grief others experience over the loss of their pets. What they must not realize is how entwined one's life becomes with a pet. Multiple daily walks and feeding, brushing, washing, playing with them, patting them... They become your focus. You control their life and as a good dog owner, you are involved on an intimate level keeping them healthy, happy and engaged.

When Lucy was diagnosed with cancer a mere two weeks ago, that focus became quadrupled. Her care and comfort took on a whole new meaning and also became (unconsciously) a period in which to say goodbye and let her know how much we loved her. Knowing we were going to be the final arbitrator of her life was a struggle. At some point, all pet owners must come to grips with this. However, when she exhibited so much discomfort Monday evening, it was a quick decision—she let us know it was time and took the decision making on herself. Yes, I know, we made the call, but she made it abundantly clear she was miserable. There was little debate about what we had to do. Only for the briefest second did I doubt myself and that of course was because of the grief over losing her.

The next day I started cleaning up her things and was going to give away or toss most of it. (Not her collar; that I'll keep.) But I realized that was also grief talking—that somehow, by removing any sign of her, the grief would also disappear. Her food, her toys, some of her hiking paraphernalia, sure, others may be able to use them, but I don't need to get rid of everything. Not her beds, not her leashes, not her dog bag. Eventually we'll have another dog in the house.

I mentioned hearing her bark yesterday in the wee hours of the morning. Last night I dreamed that they'd made a mistake and Lucy was just fine and still with us. Another stage of grief: reversing the outcome. I wonder how many stages we'll go through?

I wrote my niece and told her that I was catching myself in the habits I'd accrued through my life with Lucy. Returning from work, any water left in my bottle, I'd pour in her water bowl. While making salads, any little pieces of vegetable she liked, I'd give her a scrap. I kept all the used plastic veggie bags for collection on dog walks and now what do I do with them? I hear her coming down the hall. I hear her old snorfely nose. I reach down to pat her or turn my head to see if she's in one of her many beds, but there is no Lucy to receive a pat. There is no water bowl, no beds. This is surely the most difficult stage of grieving—habit versus reality. I am constantly reminded of our loss.

Woof

I heard Lucy bark at 4:16AM this morning. I woke with a start. It was her gravelly, older dog, partially paralyzed larynx bark and was clear as a bell. At first I thought she was hurt, but realized she is at peace now and prefer to think she was saying goodbye or that she was okay; she was on her journey...that in front of her, lay a huge, sunny field filled with little rodents to snort out or bunnies to chase.

Saying Goodbye

I take part in an on-line dog forum. I don't personally know any of the participants, but they have been quite extraordinary in sharing their experience, thoughts and feelings. They've been particularly invaluable to me through Lucy's crises.

The last couple of days I've been struggling with ethics. How do I know when it's right for Lucy to go? Do I wait until she no longer can stand or eat? Do I put her to sleep while she's still functional? She's been panting a lot the last several days—rapid, prolonged panting, and I feel this is a sign of pain, not the prednisone. My husband and I talked about acupuncture over drugs as Lucy is so sensitive to pain killers; they turn her into a zombie. He felt any mitigating care wasn't fair either as it was just prolonging a life that was ready to let go. Yet he couldn't put her to sleep while she was still walking, eating and joining us for baby bike rides. And that too, was my dilemma.

When I posted my concerns and confusion in the dog forum, one wonderful participant sent me a private message offering her story. They chose to put their dog down before pain became his constant companion. Her note clarified my dilemma. It wasn't about me (and my ethical conundrum). It was about Lucy, her comfort and life quality. As a dog owner, you assume their care and well being. No matter how much we love them, the bottom line is their best interest regardless of our pain at losing them. So I talked to my husband about this and told him he needed to prepare himself emotionally for this eventuality...that this weekend may be the time we put her to sleep, if Lucy could wait that long.

Lucy is hard-wired for running. Each weekend we have taken her on baby bike rides of 1-2 miles. Each time she has been willing, eager and able. Walks have not been as enticing for her, so the last several days, she hasn't always been interested in her morning or afternoon outings. When she has gone, the walks have been quite short. The prednisone has kept her hungry, so her appetite is good. Last evening, sometime after she ate, she went into the back yard. For some reason, I felt I needed to watch her. She paced the yard. She looked like she wanted to poop, but couldn't; looked like she was trying to vomit, but couldn't. I rushed out to check on her and found her tummy quite swollen and rock solid and feared bloat. I called the hospital to bring her in. Luckily they were still open, and remained open until we got there. Kate wasn't on duty, but another vet, whom we like, was there along with some of the staff and techs I know well.

Lucy threw up several times in the van and I know she was uncomfortable doing this despite how awful she obviously felt. The techs and vet were wonderful. The vet said it wasn't bloat, but that something was definitely going on in Lucy's abdomen and she offered an xray. Instead, we opted for sleep. Lucy had been given 2-4 weeks to live and had just crested the half-way mark. She wasn't comfortable anymore and had started withdrawing from us. Yes, she might be in the same room, but she wasn't participating, wasn't watching us, wasn't keen on patting anymore.

The vet techs put a big, blanket-covered pad on the floor and a catheter in her back leg so that the drug would go in cleanly.We got down on the floor with her and were able to be with her until the end and then some. It was very fast, but our hearts are broken. She was such a fine, fine hound.

Positive Thinking & Reality

Lucy has started piddling again as she sleeps. I've put her back on Pro-In and hope that solves the issue. I've got an email in to the vet regarding dosage. My recollection was she started on 1 a day for X amount of time and then dropped to a 1/2 tab once a day.

She's drinking a huge amount of water and she is voraciously hungry. I could even say obsessively hungry. Every time she even thinks we might be heading to the kitchen, she's there ahead of us. Sometimes I'll find her just lying by her food bowl.

Is it the cancer? With all she's eating, she's losing weight. Are her kidneys failing? Her breathing is very congested, her heartbeat rapid. My sister said that perhaps the pneumonia will be her demise.

What a grim picture! I'm trying to think positively, but this morning it isn't easy. The reality is overwhelmingly depressing.

Taking things as they come

Saturday was a gorgeous day; one of those "foolers" that makes you think spring is here. I worked a bit in the yard, but really had to restrain myself from doing too much (and run the risk of plants getting zapped by a sure-to-happen frost). Lucy was in the yard with me happily soaking up the sun. So why was I depressed?

I think weekends are harder because I am with her 24/7 and can witness minute by minute how she is doing. Scrutiny that is that close reveals the changes I miss during the week while working. I don't always want to see them. She's slower. Her breathing is more labored. Her hacking is back. Her energy is low.

I decided to try focusing on the positive. She's here. Very positive. She eats well (in fact, she's always hungry). Positive. She still loves her cocktail ball. Positive. On Sunday, we decided to see if she'd be interested in a little run. Once those van doors opened, she leapt (yes, leapt) in. She ran (loped) about 2.5 miles. Now what's not positive about that?

I had made an appointment with a holistic vet, but my husband was not keen on my taking Lucy in. He recently lost his mother to cancer and saw her go through the medical gamut. He didn't want Lucy to suffer through that. I know it is different for a dog. The medication isn't as powerful; the acupuncture is supposed to ease discomfort. I cancelled the appointment, but may call her again and discuss in more details her costs and the procedures.

Perhaps I'm throwing darts at a moving target, but isn't this what everyone does when they fear they are losing someone (in this case, my lovely hound) they love?

Trying One's Best

Lucy's breathing is getting more labored—not as in she can't breathe (lung issues), but that her nose is constricted. It isn't that goobery, so I can only assume that the chronic rhinitis has the inside passages inflamed. She can't take the Piroxicam (anti-inflammatory) anymore as it conflicts with the Prednisone (for cancer). The two together cause awful, horrible ulcers. So what can I do? Should I do?

I've contacted a holistic vet and am waiting for a response. Purportedly she's worked with a lot of cancer patients and has had good success. With Lucy's blood count being so awful, I'm not expecting much change for the cancer, but perhaps she could do something for the rhinitis allowing Luce to breathe more comfortably. None-the-less, I don't want to subject Lucy to the awful anxiety of vet visits.

I hate this "should I do this?" or "am I neglecting if I don't" quandary. I want Lucy to be comfortable. Bottom line. Consciously I realize tossing this back and forth before speaking with the holistic vet doesn't do me any good and just causes me to be anxious while doing nothing for Lucy.

I guess I should just be patient until I have the conversation...

Drug Reconnaissance

Lucy's drugs are running low, so I emailed the vet and got her response. The Sucralfate, Famotidine and Metronidazole can be stopped and saved for later use, if necessary. The antibiotics should be continued for another couple of weeks (depending on what a second xray shows) and the Prednizone is a lifer, for as long as we are blessed with her presence.

Days of Grace

Lucy had been doing well since late Saturday. We didn't have any other bicycling opportunities, but she's been alert and perky on walks. And of course with prednisone, food has kept her focused. She's even been playing with her cocktail ball again and with the benefit of antibiotics, her nose isn't quite as drippy as it's been in the past.

Our contact at SVS, Becca, called the other day to check on Lucy and I gave her the bad news. I must say, we've been extremely fortunate with the vets we've chosen. They've been attentive, in general, and hugely supportive at present.

My husband made a comment last night that gave us pause. It was something we'd both been thinking, but had chosen not to voice—that old "if I don't say it, it doesn't exist" kind of thing. I mentioned how Lucy doesn't like as much rubbing as she used to, so I was only lightly rubbing her now. He said that's because her body hurts and is uncomfortable. We were both quite for a moment, said some 'lovies' to Luce and went on to another conversation. We didn't want to wallow in that sad knowledge.

Today it's snowing again. There isn't a lot of snow, but it is sticking. Lucy only went a half block today before turning around to return home. Her pace was slow.

Golden Day

Saturday was a day of grace. Lucy was not particularly responsive in the morning and although she ate, she wasn't interested in going on a walk. I needed to pick up some Metronidazole for the diarrhea, so brought her along for the ride and perhaps some stimulation(?).

When we returned home, our van was parked in front with the side doors open. My husband was planning on going on a bike ride and had loaded his equipment inside. When Lucy saw the van, her ears perked up and she trotted over to the van and leapt inside! Joy! We decided we'd all go and while he rode, we'd walk.

She wanted no part of walking; she wanted to run! So he grabbed her leash and rode while she loped along side at her steady 7.5 mile clip. Her ears were up, her eyes bright and if dogs can grin, she was wearing a big one! She was so happy and of course, so were we. She went about 2 miles perky as could be.

I expected her to be a bit slowed down this morning, but she's been as chipper as ever. She was bouncy on the walk.

Her drugs du jour are...for her upset tummy:

• Sucralfate (1 gm) 3 X day
• Famotidine (20 mg) 2 X day

For the diarrhea:

• Metronidazole (250 mg) 2 X day

For the pneumonia:

• Baytril (68 mg) 1.5 X day
• Clavamox (375 mg) 2 X day

For the cancer:

• Prednisone (20 mg) 1 tablet 2 X day for 1 week, then 1/2 a tablet 2 X day

Her food is a combo of:

• 1 lb. organic burger
• 1/3 lb. organic liver
• 1 1/3 cup organic brown rice
• 4.5 TB canola oil
• 9 grams fish oil (or 9-1,000 mg capsules drained)

She's gobbling up the food which is stupendous. If she continues on eating (and living), the vet advises me to add 3.3 grams of calcium carbonate and 2.9 grams of dicalcium phosphate. She'll also give me some other recipes so I can vary the diet if Lucy starts getting finicky.

More Results

The blood test came back. Eighty percent of Lucy's blood cells (white and red) are abnormal. The vet said she's at stage 5 cancer. Five? I didn't even know there were that many levels. She said it could be leukemia or some other kind of lymphoma, but that in either case, chemo therapy would not be effective, so we're spared debating that course of action. Kate said she'd never seen blood levels like this...this abnormal, I think is what she meant. I didn't ask.

Lucy has horrible diarrhea. It's contained, meaning she has control over it, but it's basically thick water and rice. Is it the drugs? The cancer? The fact that her diet has changed to burger, liver and rice? All of them could be affecting her. I'm waiting for a call back from the vet to see what she recommends doing about it...if anything.

Desert & Devastation

We just returned from 2 1/2 weeks in the southern California mountains and deserts. What a wonderful break from the snows and rains of this area. In fact, our timing was so good, we missed the torrential rains that caused the flooding and avalanches.

The first portion of our trip was more urban. My husband had to work a few days and we wanted to visit our nephew before he deploys. Both occasions placed us in big California cities. Lucy was quite sick during this period—lots of vomiting and phone calls to the specialty vet back home. We took her off the doxycycline for her nose and that helped, but didn't completely solve the issue. A type of chew that I've given her for years also seemed to upset her stomach, so that was also removed and her energy and well-being improved.

When her health was assured, we got her back to running with us, and though it usually wasn't daily, she did manage every other day. We kept her distance within 7 miles. She loved it! Happy! Spunky! Raring to go! One of the downsides of the desert were burrs from cactus. Not a good mix on dog feet. We had to be very vigilant where we took her and to check her paws carefully during and after. The picture is taken at Mt. Shasta. In January, the trail was covered in dry oak leaves. Lovely!

Surprisingly, or maybe not considering we were in dry deserts, her nose seemed to clear up—even off the doxy. There was still the reverse sneezing and some hacking, but not the constant goobery schnoz.

We returned to cold, damp, foggy weather. Lucy's nose immediately reacted. Constant. And her health went rapidly down hill. From being energetic and running miles, suddenly she wasn't eating or wanting to go on walks. When I got home from work and she didn't even raise her head from her bed, I knew something was horribly wrong. Pneumonia again?

I took her to the vet two days ago and got the results yesterday. I won't hear about pneumonia or not until I get those results today, but yesterday was awful—she has lymphoma. The vet said doing nothing, she might live a couple of weeks to a month; with prednisone, I could double that; with chemo, perhaps a year. The vet gave her some antibiotics while there and that seemed to revive her. For the first time in days, she ate and wanted to go on a walk.

All the "cure" methods are limited; the cancer isn't going away. The chemo would involve weekly vet visits with 1/2 hour drips—and that would be for 6 months or more. Lucy is going on 12 and hates the vet. (Who could blame her? She's spent so much time there in the past 2 years!) We don't want to make her miserable by constant vet visits, even if it might prolong her stay with us. I'm willing to do the prednisone. The vet said it could put the cancer temporarily into remission, but prednisone has its own downside.

When my husband returns tonight, we'll talk about which options we want to pursue. It's awful playing the Final Arbitrator in someone else's life. Although we'd love Lucy to live years and years, we'd want those years to be healthy, happy years. If her time is now, we need to be able to graciously and lovingly allow her to comfortably enter it.

Snow's Almost Gone!

Hurrah! The snow is almost gone! We've had 3 days of 40 degrees and the grass and pavement are visible. After one last shovel to open the driveway to the street yesterday, I drove for the first time since the 18th .

Molly is with us again. Lucy is getting used to her, but still growls if the puppy approaches while Lucy is getting pats.

Lucy is done with her Clavamox. I'm curious if her nose will stay bacteria-free. Fingers crossed; I can't imagine life on antibiotics is any better for a dog than for humans. The only thing that has come back with a vengeance is her reverse sneezing.

Hungover

Lucy is decidedly wiped out from Christmas. We were with in-laws Christmas day and Lucy was the recipient of many doggie presents which were all food. Being a good mom, I only gave her one, but there were lots of other people around and they were all treating her—she even got turkey! She's barely budged today and hasn't even sniffed her breakfast. It is so obvious she's hungover.

More Snow

The snow keeps coming. I've shoveled twice and am buying stock in Ibuprofen. We're dog-sitting Molly for five days. The dogs are in seventh heaven with this weather. Lucy is definitely showing old dog enthusiasm—spunkier, but not lively, while Molly is doing a drag course around the yard.

A little sad on a beautiful day

It's sunny and lovely today, but very cold. I'm a bit sad which seems odd when it is beautiful outside. Lucy's breathing is labored today and her hacking and gagging have become quite pronounced. I fear her larynx is becoming worse and creating problems.

I spoke with a neighbor yesterday whose daughter had to put her dog to sleep. The dog was fairly young, but had increasingly complex medical issues. In the end, her body just couldn't keep up with her mind. I applaud the woman for understanding her dog had lost its quality of life. That takes enormous courage. I hope I recognize that for Lucy when the time comes.

We're dog-sitting her cousin, Molly. Molly's 10 month-old energy seems to be enervating for Lucy instead of energizing. Molly demands attention and is as big as Lucy and perhaps heavier. Although she recognizes Lucy-as-Boss, she crashes into her, wriggles past her, is in her face. I want the dogs to work it out themselves, but at this point, unless I intervene, Lucy just goes off to her bed rather than compete with the puppy. I try and give Lucy lots of love and reassurance, but unless the puppy is sequestered, she is so present.

Second Snowfall

It's beautiful and quiet. I have a fire going in the stove and Christmas music playing. Perhaps a tray of cookies in the oven would be appropriate. Lucy, like all dogs, loves the snow. And like a small child with a runny nose, she has her perpetual stringers, now a bit frozen on her face. I have a stack of adult handkerchiefs that I keep by her leash for walks. In house, it's kleenex.

Here are two shots of her enjoying the weather. One is quite blurry, but I still like it. She's looking for a "R-A-T." In the other, she's licking off the offending drips.

Cold!

It is so cold here in the NW! The weathermen say we are in the longest cold snap we've had in nearly two decades. Day time temps are never above 30. Nights are in the teens. Lucy is in heaven. Snow on the ground and temps that make her ears crisp, her nose ice cold and her heart spunky. Everything is a treat for her when it's cold. And her nose is better. Is it the drugs or the temp?

After my sister-in-law suggested it, I bought a baby nose syringe to try when Lucy's nose is filled. As she put it, babies can't blow their nose either, so I thought I'd give it a try. The first one I bought was an ear syringe for adults (as they were out of the baby equivalent) and she hated that, so it is now in the back of the bathroom cupboard. Today I purchased from another store a baby nose syringe with a detachable tip for easy cleaning. How wonderful!! I don't doubt that Lucy will be equally dismayed by the prospect, but it might help with all the goobers.

New Drugs, New Cocktail Ball

Lucy had access to her cocktail ball last night. It is the first time I've allowed her to play with it since it was taken away. Not only was it taken away, it was thrown away and replaced with a new one. I decided to pitch it as I was concerned there could be bacteria on it that was re-infecting her. I'll never know the answer to that one, although her nose wasn't terribly runny afterwards.

She is also on a new antibiotic: Clavamox. Her nose was getting more and more goopy—both nostrils—and she was obviously suffering from some bacteria. The vet decided we should "pulse" (their word) antibiotics, so we've stopped the Doxycyline for this new one. It was made a huge difference both in the amount of nose goo and, within a day, the color.

Edited to add (many hours later): as of this afternoon's walk, the color is as bad as ever!

Abstinence

Lucy's nose has been active recently. Both nostrils are running now and the goo is yellow-green. Gross. I'm sorry. I never thought I'd be so attuned to this kind of thing and I feel for parents with children who are chronically ill. Your life becomes focused on little things that others would rather ignore. What concerns me is that Lucy is already on antibiotics, so does this mean that she has built up an immunity to doxycycline or that the bacteria is getting an upper hand (stronger, meaner) or something else is going on? The vet and I are becoming best friends.

So what does this have to do with abstinence? Her cocktail ball has been removed. This is her most favorite toy. In fact, it is the only toy she's had that she hasn't lost interest in. At cocktail hour, she starts hounding me to produce the famous orange ball. Unfortunately, it requires a lot of nose action from her: rolling, snorting, poking—and all of those things seem to aggravate an already delicate schnoz. In order to (hopefully) clear up her nose, I've taken her ball away. Last night was the first and she definitely was not happy about it. She waited patiently at first and then not so patiently. She wandered around looking for it, she talked to me about it, gave me the hopeful eye, then the pleading eye, then the evil eye. She will not see it tonight either.

It is difficult to explain abstinence to a dog.

Grateful

We're care-taking Suki for a couple of days while her owners are away. She has declined dramatically since the last time she was here. It takes a lot of manpower to wake her and get her going, and once up, she's only there for a short time before going back to bed. I've "carpeted" the kitchen in non-skid rugs, so when she gets up, she can get to the water bowl without slipping. Her coordination is quite sketchy as she suffers from awful arthritis and her toenails are so long.

She is still eating, but seems to have a difficult time working her tongue and spends more time moving her kibbles around rather than scooping them up. We are using a carpeted ramp her owners brought over for her to get up and down our back stairs (of which there are three). She is good going down the ramp, though she sometimes slips her way down. Coming up, however, is much more difficult. Surprisingly, although she is not a "morning" dog, she seems more coordinated at that time and is able to get up the ramp to come in. In the evening, she needs encouragement and a bit of guidance to maneuver up.

When she first arrived five days ago, I think she was quite confused. When she was awake, her time was spent staring at nothing. This morning, for the first time, she got up with us (5:30AM), went outside, ate breakfast and had her morning biscuit. That was wonderful and very active for her.

Lucy is doing well. Although both nostrils now suffer from rhinitis, she is enthused and involved. Over this past weekend, she ran a total of nearly 12 miles—five on Saturday, the rest on Sunday. She was eager afterward, and appeared neither exhausted nor experienced difficulty breathing. Granted, the weather was cool, but who cares? I am so happy she is such a willing participant.

I am grateful she is still with us, mentally and physically. It makes me even more solicitous towards Lucy and I tell her regularly how much I love her.

I also feel for Suki's owners as I know they will soon have to make an awful decision—the one we hate to make, but are grateful we can offer. With Suki, I've spent several evenings on the floor by her bed letting her know what a fine girl-dog she is and how much we've enjoyed our time with her.

What would we do without our wonderful dog companions? I can't imagine how anyone could treat a dog cruelly or chain them outside and ignore them. They give us so much and ask for so little in return. Our lives are enriched immeasurably by them.