Heart-Dogs Heal

Making a difference...

2010-04-21T17:29:00.000-07:00

It is now almost two whole months since Heidi's diagnosis. I never thought we would be where we are now...back to just about normal. It is just mind blowing to me; that in two short months, 8 fleeting weeks, we go from indescribable terror and fear about hearing the word "cancer", to constant worry about kidney values and skin flaps, to the dread of having to walk into NEVOG for an appointment where we would be told our fate. But all along this bumpy road, we never lost hope. We have had great support to remind us when times got really tough that things would go back to "normal" someday and hopefully, in the long run, Heidi would be OK. We all would. And now it seems like we're almost there. Looking back, I cant believe how fast that time went by...

It is truly amazing to me not only how fast the body can heal (Heidi grew a 2 inch by 6 inch strip of skin in about 3 weeks!) but how well the spirit holds up. I mean, I know I should be surprised. Look at me. I went from being a blue baby to having two open heart surgeries that completely altered the way my circulatory system works, to surviving a blood clot, almost bleeding to death and then having a stent placed to allow me to be able to breath and live. And I'm only 27! Yes, looking at that all compacted in a short sentence looks impressive, but living through it and having all of that time pass in between incidents makes you forget a little bit of the fear and anxiety you're living with. But with Heidi, her whole illness has been so compact; almost like the sentence used to describe it. And although I have been an obvious part of it, it hasn't been MY BODY going through it...although I now know and have a new respect for how my mom feels when I am sick! But I also now know how she must feel when she sees me get better...

Heidi is totally back to her old self...in fact, she might even be (if possible) more energetic! She wants to play almost non stop (even to the point of bringing her toys to bed with us) and she is getting into more mischief: she barks and herds us through the house during our daily routines even more than usual, and the other day I came home from work to find my bedroom trash was picked through and then spread all over my floor! There was nothing in it but papers and dryer sheets, but...why is my 7 1/2 year old dog doing this to me?!?! I think just because she can...and because she wants to remind me that she is NOT SICK!!!

We try and take daily walks and have already been to the beach several times. Monday the girls made their debut at school-we were doing a palpation lab, so we were able to bring our dogs to locate things we had been learning about; in this instance, bones. They did GREAT! Everyone was impressed at how well behaved they were, and they made friends with the other dogs that had come in. I know that in a few weeks we will even be back to kayaking, which I cant wait for! I'm of course still being diligent about their health, though: I check Heidi's leg and incision site on her side daily, and I have started them both on some new supplements. They go in for their annual visit at the end of May, and at that point will have titers and their 6 month blood work done. I'm also going to go ahead and have chest x-rays and an abdominal ultrasound done then as well...

I am SO GRATEFUL to be so blessed and, lets face it, lucky. I can't believe how well things have turned out. But again, although this fact makes us blessed, it is because we have been lucky. So many of my friends have lost their fur-kids (even just recently) to this dreaded disease called "cancer". But even witnessing my friends pain of fighting their dogs' battle, and seeing dogs that I watched grow up lose that battle and pass over the bridge, I was still detached from the grief. Although I tried hard not to think about it and put myself in their shoes to spare my own feelings and emotions, I cant pretend it didn't obviously affect me...a lot. But like so many other situations in life it takes personal experience to truly know what it feels like and to want to make a change; to make a difference.

And so, with Heidi as my motivator, but Wally the Greyhound, Diesel the Rottie and Forrest the Newfie as my inspiration, we have decided to participate in the "Paws for a Cure" walk: http://www.paws4acure.org/home.html

This walk helps raise money for families in need of help to treat their dogs cancer. It is our honor and privilege to walk for our friends. I initially decided to walk on my own with the two girls, but after talking with my mom (and her request to walk with us) I decided to create a walk team. At this moment, its just us two =0) But we hope there will be more to join us! And if there is anyone out there unable to walk but still looking to help, you can pledge to sponsor us right on Heidi's team page, which is here: http://www.paws4acure.org/teamheidi.html

This is kind of a big deal for us; not only because of the incredible mission and purpose of the walk itself, but it is going to probably be a real challenge for us. I know some people who just finished the Boston Marathon, but for Heidi and I, this is ours. I don't think I have walked 3 miles since I got sick last year...I'm sure I can do it, but I know we wont be the ones setting the pace! And of course with Heidi's leg still healing and arthritis, it will be a challenge for her too. But this is too important for us to pass up...the challenge of facing cancer (and then having to worry about how to pay for its treatment) is a much bigger one than some 3 mile walk...

Thank you all again for your support, your following and your well wishes for my family. If you are able to sponsor us, thank you. If not, that's OK! Maybe there will be something in your area that is looking for support-like volunteering. Please consider helping out a truly worthy cause...we don't want anyone to have to go through what we and our friends have...

stinky, stinky stinky? HEFTY HEFTY HEFTY!!

2010-04-09T17:31:00.000-07:00

I'm seriously considering sticking my dogs in a Hefty bag. Sticking them in a Hefty bag, tying the ends TIGHTLY shut, and then putting said back out on the curb. Why such drastic measures? Because my dogs SMELL. They smell BAD. Almost indescribably bad. And I don't know why. I went to work today, then went to the grocery store, and then came home. I grabbed some of the groceries and carted them into the house, where I was immediately jumped by my attack dogs. I bent down to say a quick hello, and then ushered them outside to potty. I grabbed the rest of the groceries and went back in the house. I bent down again to give the girls a more proper and thorough greeting and that's when it hit me. The stench. That smelly smell of something that smells smelly. It smelled like old, rancid, left-on-the-counter-too-long goat cheese...with metallic overtones...like someone had added rusty nails to the mix. I smelled it on Shelby first. I was a little overwhelmed. She followed me into my bedroom when I went to change, and jumped up on my bed. Then my mom came in, and went to say hello to the girls too. "Don't pet Shelby!" I warned. She asked why, and I told her to have a good sniff. "Oh my GOD, what IS that?!" she asked. THAT is a very good question...

I took her into the bathroom and decided to try and wash some "stank"off. Yeah. It turns out my wipees that I use for emergency "bummy checks" dried up. I tried re-hydrating them by running some water over them, but to no avail. They did not come back to life. Their slightly flowery scent did not return. Damn. I didn't have anything else. Oooh! Lets try some essential oils! Those are good and strong, and the few I have Shelby seems to like. I put a few drops on my hands, rubbed them together and applied to Shelby's head. Then I crossed my fingers and smelled my dog in some bizarre, backwards version whats supposed to happen.

No change! Now she just smelled like old, rancid goat cheese with essential oils added in! Dammit!!!! Well, there's nothing I can do about it right this second. I had other stuff to do, like make dinner, iron and some other things around the house. It wasn't hurting her, and I just figured I could snuggle and kiss parts of her body other than her face and head. Then I bent down to take a toy from Heidi and I smelled it on HER TOO. Did she get it from Shelby?!?!? Was it spreading like some form of noxious gas???

Now I was not only completely bemused, but...a little worried. Having a stinky smell on one dog was bad enough, but...what if they both got into something? I figured Shelby might have rolled in something outside, or stuffed her head onto something...because that's what she does. She rolls in smelly seaweed at the beach, and head-presses and rubs after eating. She also eats poop. Heidi does gross things too, but different types of gross things: eating socks and undies, and licking body stuff-like her scabs on her surgery site and blood (eeeewwww....) So the thought of them both eating something gross is odd...and scary.

I looked EVERYWHERE. They only have access to the kitchen, living room and my bedroom when we're not home. I just cleaned the house on Wednesday. And we always make sure everything is picked up before we go in the morning. I couldn't find anything. Not on the carpets, floors or furniture. I thought maybe one of them had gotten sick and they both ate it ? (Yeah, I know. Even though they're Shelties, they're not all perfect all the time!) I found nothing. Then I searched outside. Still nothing. I'm really puzzled.

All I know right now is that not only am I going to be rearranging my schedule to fit baths in in the next few days, but I'm also going to be keeping an eye out for anything weird: any weird behaviors or any weird physical signs that they did ingest something not meant for Shelties to eat.

On a happier note, Heidi continues to improve day by day. She has no more scabs and her scar is nice and pink (which equals healthy!) She does have a few more fluid pockets that are from suture reaction; some of her internal sutures are making her skin angry-they are making little pustules that rupture and which allows the suture to poke through. The surgeon told me to pull them...so I did. I've removed about 6-7 inches (in various sized pieces) from the little wounds. I've kept them clean and put antibiotic ointment on them, and most of those are healed too...although I did find one or two that haven't burst yet when I checked her tonight.

We've been to the beach twice, and will continue to build up all of our strength and stamina. She's playing tug with her toys like a FIEND and just wants to go Go GO!. Shelby's humoring her and playing with her a bit, but shes definitely enjoying getting out and about too...and being able to chase the birds again! The weather is getting nicer, so we'll all get more active over the next few weeks. Hopefully by the time the really nice weather comes, we'll be in decent shape to really get out and enjoy it! (More on that later).

Keep your fingers and paws crossed for us and the smell. I'm so used to snuggling and kissing them all over; I'm like some weird drug addict who huffs my dogs. They each have their own individual sweet smell: like the mixtures of the various places we go outdoors, essential oil blends that we use for flea/tick repellant and just overall cleanness. I have to say my dogs are NOT the stinky kind...they don't even usually smell when they get wet! I'm hoping the baths will do the trick. Otherwise, we will be DESPERATELY looking for some kind of "doggy febreeze"...or some Sheltie sized Hefty bags!

Decisions, decisions...and updates!

2010-03-30T16:09:00.000-07:00

Today is Tuesday March 30, 2010. Three days ago was my birthday. March 27th meant a lot more to me this year than merely the celebration of aging another year...it marked the one month milestone since Heidi was diagnosed with her MCT. I almost can't believe that it has been a full month; in some ways it feels like a year...in other ways it feels like it only happened yesterday.

My last update talked about our oncology visit at NEVOG. I left there with a lot of information: thoughts on what to expect for the future and ideas on what to do in terms of further diagnostics and treatments. I have had about 2 weeks to digest all of that information. I've done more research online, and tapped my greatest resource yet: the amazingly informative and patient doctors at my practice. I've come up with the following:

Ive decided not to pursue radiation therapy with Heidi. The costs of it far outweigh any benefits I see. Here are some of the pro's and con's:
Pro's: the radiation will hopefully kill any remaining cancer cells from the site of the tumor that may have been missed/remained outside of the narrow margins obtained with surgery. The treatment is short, and the side-effects are temporary. Heidi will receive treatment for 15 days (5 days a week for 3 weeks in a row) and should be healed (from the treatment) 2-4 weeks afterwards. That's it. Those are the only pro's. And those pro's have con's.
Con's: Heidi will have to be sedated and intubated 5 days a week for 3 weeks straight. That is getting knocked out and WOKEN UP 15 times in a row. (I had 4 surgeries in 12 days and THAT was rough for me!) Although the side effects are temporary, they will obviously add on another 2-4 weeks of recovery-which means everything Heidi enjoys doing, she wont be able to because of the burns she will receive from the treatment. She is just finally able to do some of her normal activities (more about that in a bit). She will get major burns in a very sensitive area-her foreleg and ARMPIT. It will be uncomfortable to just "be", never mind walk. If we chose radiation, that is about another 5-9 weeks of her not being able to do anything except sit in the house or in the yard. And we're hitting the Spring; one of the best seasons to get out and DO. I know this sounds trivial (I'm going to risk my dogs life to let her enjoy some hikes during the spring? 1-2 months is more important than years?) but there isn't enough evidence for me to think radiation is the best way to go; that it is our best choice.

Although the margins were narrow, they were also clear. Radiation is just a "just in case"-just in case they didn't get it all. At this stage of the game, it is almost being used as a prevention. I'm not willing to let her go through such pain and discomfort for "just in case"; not when the odds are already stacked in her favor. The oncologist said that only 80-85% of dogs are cured with radiation. So there is a chance it may not even work. And if we do it now, and it does come back, it might be more aggressive and resistant to the radiation itself. What then? I did (of course) consult with the surgeon, and she assured me that should it come back (on the leg, where the odds are better of it returning to rather than somewhere else) that we did have surgical options to take wide margins again. And again, at that point (should it ever get there) we had radiation as an option. I also talked with the Dr. who has been taking such good care of us, as she knows how I feel about both my girls, and she said she wouldn't do radiation either. That made me feel even more comfortable with my decision. The decision about the RT came pretty easy. What diagnostics to run, however, is proving to be much more difficult.

The options I was giving for a full staging work-up are as follows: spleen, lymph node and bone marrow aspirates; abdominal ultrasound; chest x-rays. I'm having a much harder time deciding on what to do here. My decisions change as the days do. At first I wanted to do it ALL. My love for my girls is strong enough, (and so is my paranoia) to be willing to do it all. But my gut and very limited medical knowledge are telling me all this isn't necessary. The chest rads and ultrasound are pain free and non-invasive. A splenic and lymph node aspirate are simple enough; not non-invasive like the others, but relatively pain free. But the bone marrow aspirate...yikes! Stupidly I watched a video that showed the procedure (the video looks a bit old, but I've been told the procedure is basically unchanged: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=4953415127475383802#). OUCH! That definitely is invasive and painful looking! NEVOG told me they did it without sedation; she said the pet is given a local and it is not usually painful until the bone marrow starts getting sucked out. The dog in the video is knocked out, and the surgeon said she would do it under sedation as well. Although I think it would be the best diagnostic tool (I mean, if cancer cells are being manufactured in the bone marrow, there's definitely a basis to have everything else done too) but can I do that to her? Especially where her kidneys were so bothered by pain meds only a few weeks ago? What would I use if she woke up in pain or if she had a reaction to the sedation/anesthetic?

I'm still really torn about what to do. My desire to do everything possible (within reason; again, I'm not doing RT) and know as much as possible is causing conflict in my mind and heart about wanting to do the least invasive and painful procedures I can. Heidi has been through a lot. Do I want to do more to calm my own mind and get to sleep easier at night? And what if I do it all and Heidi has residual effects from the aspirates? Nothing is ever 100% safe or without risks.

I have to say that a very useful tool I have had through this whole process is the book "Speaking for Spot". I have heard great things about it all over the place: magazines, other blogs, other books and websites. I finally ordered my copy a few days before Heidi's NEVOG appointment and read the whole thing through by that day. I wanted to be prepared. And the book helped me. Working in the veterinary field has taught me a lot, and a lot of the book I already was aware of, and although it didn't help me in exactly researching or collecting information, it did reemphasize what I should be doing to be prepared for the appointment. And what I should be doing after I get the information from the appointment. I went in totally organized (what a HUGE help!) and left with all of my questions answered...and clearly got (and retained) all of the information that I got from them. I definitely recommend picking up the book before you find yourself needing it: when your dog is having a medical crisis. Its an easy read and is well organized itself. I can only imagine how much more information I would have gotten out of it had I not worked in the field! If anyone out there in the great big world is reading this, I hope you get two things out of our experiences: trust your gut, and don't wait...and buy this book! (Or see if you can borrow it at our local library!)

I really REALLY appreciate all of your kind and encouraging comments. I don't usually comment back, but I read every single one of them. It's a great way to feel connected-even though the people leaving them live hundreds if not thousands of miles away. It makes me feel included in this great "dog loving family" that includes us all. As with any family, people have different opinions and approaches, but ultimately everyone has the same goal: to do what is best for our furry charges; our "furkids". I also just want to mention that although I don't always comment on YOUR posts, I do read them...ALL. Every morning I have the same routine: check email, check facebook, check blog-roll. Overtime there is a new post, I read it. And enjoy every word. Keep writing!

And finally, the update on Heidi herself. She is doing WONDERFULLY!!! She is just about back to her old self. She had her last bandage change last weekend (after out NEVOG visit). The surgeon was changing them every day or two and decided that as the was starting to get irritated, only a few more would be needed. There is a fine line to using bandages: you have to make sure they are not doing more harm than good. Knowing Heidi's last bandage would come off last Sunday, (which meant her leg would then be exposed) I decided to take her to the farm for a walk. She couldn't even make it 1/4 of the way. And then I had to carry her for most of that 1/4 back. When we took off the bandage the next day, I found out why. The vetwrap (co-flex) that her bandage was being held on with started rubbing her fur and then her skin off. She had a crusty abrasion on her elbow and has redness and irritation on her side and forearm. I felt AWFUL! I had made her walk...and play ball the day before! She must have been really painful. But nothing will stop her from doing what she loves: playing and working. I relearned to trust her and listen to her-when she didn't want to walk, I knew something was up. It had become too ouchie for her.

But once the last bandage came off Heidi had a freedom that she hadn't had since her surgery. She could move! She was a little crunchy, as she had to use the rest of her body to over compensate for her bandaged leg, but soon got her spring and bounce back. She hasn't stopped since! The surgeon recommended this really neat cream to put on her site every day. Remember, that when the skin flap died and was then peeled off, her inner leg was pretty much exposed to the outside world. The bandage protected it and allowed it to heal quite a bit, but it was still an open wound. Well, this cream has fixed that! I bought her some shirts (they are made by "starter gear" and are very similar to the "under armour" that athletes wear-it hugs her body pretty tightly-including her legs, as it is a long sleeved shirt. I got them at Wal-mart for 3 bucks. 3 BUCKS! I bought 8!!!) and every night she gets her wounds cleaned with gauze and saline, a new application of the cream and a new shirt on. In even one week her wound has gone from its entire original length and the width of a "fat pen" to barely as long as my pinkie finger and barely as wide as a ribbon on a balloon. This is such a huge improvement! Her leg looks great and, as I said before, she is really doing well! The skin that was pulled from her side does need to stretch out a bit, but it doesn't seem like she's lost any ROM. I walked her twice last week at the park (paved surfaces) and took her to the farm again on Saturday. She did the WHOLE WALK including the "long way" via a detour on the way back. She's doing so well!!!

The girls annual PE's are coming up when I'll get their titers, HWT and 6 month blood work check and I hope to have decided on what staging tests I plan on doing. I am also seeing a holistic vet next Monday to get somemore natural ways to keep her healthy, and discuss options for pain management in the future...as we're no longer able to use NSAIDs. (We're seeing the same person Iris "The Rainbow Doggess" sees!) I will of course keep the blog updated on how things are going! Thank you all again so much for the time you take to read this journal of mine (well, the girls) and your thoughts and prayers. They all mean so much! And yes, Shelby is thrilled to have her sister (and in some ways, her Mom) back! Wrestling and tug-of-war have resumed! The best birthday presents I've ever received...

NEVOG

2010-03-19T17:36:00.000-07:00

This past Wednesday was the big day. The day we went to NEVOG to get some more answers; to talk to an oncologist.

Typing that sentence makes me feel exactly how I felt when I was told Heidi had cancer. And it was exactly the way I felt making the trip to Waltham two days ago. I wasn't really thinking about anything on the way down. It was like my mind was wiped blank. I was focusing on the radio; probably a defense mechanism to make sure I didn't lose control while driving and sparing the lives of all the cars that joined me on a jam-packed rt. 128. I don't remember much about the drive itself; only that I wanted to make sure I didn't miss my exit and didn't fall asleep at the wheel.

I probably could focus more on "nothing" because I did feel like I was quite prepared. I read everything I could get a hold of on the internet; and luckily I have a pretty good sense of what is true out there and what is completely false. I wasn't necessarily looking for "answers"; no website or published paper could give me those. I was looking for information to compose questions to the human being (who happened to spend years in vet school) to be able to give me the answers. Because the answers meant closure. It is one thing to be able to type in an equation and get an "answer". But very often when discussing cancer (or any health problem) the equation can change so subtly that it is almost not really noticeable to anyone not trained to look for such small variances. But the difference in answers is huge. And even more important, is the way those answers are delivered. They need to be given in a soft, gentle and compassionate way. You cant get those feelings by reading something on the disease your dog has. So as I planned on seeing one of those people who would be able to give me the "answers" I was seeking, I owed it to them (for taking their time) and of course to my best girl Heidi, to show up with the right questions and a lot of them.

So feeling prepared and having a folder and note book full of stuff made me feel a little more at ease...you know, if that is even possible while trying to cope with the fact that your child (furry or otherwise) is sick.

I got to NEVOG with only a few minutes to spare. The traffic was not bad for most of the journey, but the last leg of 128 was bumper to bumper. And then when I got off at the exit they were doing construction. Great. Then when I did get on the right street, I passed the building. Then when I got to the right building, I went in the wrong entrance (I went in to the other vet, VESCONE by accident...I guess I missed the big blue NEVOG banner...duh!). I finally did walk in the right entrance and was glad to see other dogs waiting in the lobby. (I think I would have felt 100 times worse if I had to be there by myself...) It is small (well, I'm comparing this to our lobby or that of our sister hospitals) but was not cramped or crowded. I think it was nice for the type of hospital that NEVOG is-people are all there for the same reason; like everyone belongs to the same club. So the small-ness of it was conducive to people (and sometimes pets) getting to know each other. When I walked in, there were two Golden's and a small terrier mix that was being held, and their owners were chatting a bit. I walked up to the counter and started to check in.

I gave them Heidi's name, and they asked me to put her on the scale. It was a small one that was built right into the floor (I'm sure making it more comfortable for the dogs; I'm sure they need to be weighed every week and try not to make it a big struggle). I asked Heidi to "table" and she got right on and sat down. The people waiting were pretty shocked. They couldn't believe she just got right on and sat right down;no muss, no fuss. I explained she was an agility dog and knew her job well. They seemed slightly impressed...maybe it was a little bit of a surprise that an "agility dog" could get cancer too?

Her weight was just about what it has been through out the past few weeks; she has actually gotten back to her slightly heavier weight of 22#, but she is also bandaged, has not been able to exercise and has been drinking a ton. Not that I'm making excuses, but I would like her to be a little slimmer (I would like the same thing for myself too!) I went back to the counter where they had me fill out a registration form. I could have been taking the SAT's. In Spanish. I was STRUGGLING filling out the most basic questions. I wrote my cell phone number wrong. I couldn't remember the fax number for work. I couldn't remember the date (St. Patricks day?!? You know, why everyone was wearing green?!?!?!) That's when I realized I was really out of sorts; like I was in some sort of dream state. I finally finished (after many crossings out of misinformation that I am able to give correctly every other day of my life...)

I sat down and Heidi sat with me. She relaxed right away; but she always does. She just lays down and is completely content to watch the world go by...always on the lookout for a dropped morsel though! I hadn't fed her breakfast in case she needed to fast for any tests. I also hadn't brought Shelby (which I normally do-they go just about every where together). I felt like I should just spend this time, this important time, with just Heidi. Just while we got the initial consult out of the way. One of the Goldens went in for his "treatment" (which I assumed was chemo, but I could be wrong) and then left. After a bit of a wait (we were in no rush, we could have been there all day!) The Dr. came out and took us in an exam room. We saw Dr. Rosen-a fellow in oncology (but not yet board certified...which was fine with us! I understand that even though someone doesn't yet have the certification, they still have YEARS of experience and have access to many great minds should they find themselves with a difficult case. Maybe its from being at Mass Gen so often, but working in a "teaching" environment doesn't scare me at all...)

Dr. Rosen took us into an exam room at the end of the hall, invited me to sit down, and started to ask me some questions about Heidi: how old she was, how long shes been with us and about the tumor. I explained to her about her bandaging (and the slight complications after surgery-with her wound and kidney issues) and she asked if she had any other issues. I told her about her shoulder problems and arthritis, and also about her "choking" episodes where she hard-swallows and seems to gag. I found myself faltering again. I found I couldn't remember Dr.s names that we had seen in the past. When our Q&A session had ended and she was going to start talking about the MCT, I asked if it was alright if I tape recorded the visit as my mom couldn't come with me (and I didn't know if I was in the right state of mind to remember it all). She was fine with it, but cautioned me that she might be hard to understand as she just had her wisdom teeth out! So I pulled out my mom's Sony tape recorder (that is probably as old as I am) and it the red record button. The tape was rolling, and so was the Dr.

She explained what MCT's were (a collection of mast cells that for some reason grew out of control-like any type of cancer-and usually ended up as a mass on or just under the skin) and that the first most important part of treatment was to get the tumor surgically removed. After the surgery was done, the important answers could be obtained: were there clean margins? What grade was it given and why? Heidi's was removed with CLEAN but NARROW margins: which meant that the tissue around the excised tumor was free of cancer cells, but the AMOUNT of cancer free tissue from the very edge of the sample (the outside of the circle so to speak) was less that 1cm before they found cancer. Heidi's margins were clean at .6-.8cm. Heidi's tumor was then given a grade of II-but a LOW grade II. The importance of the grade was the mitotic activity-which means how many cells were seen dividing. A number under 5 had a very good prognosis as it meant the tumor was not highly aggressive. Over 5 was more worrying. Heidi had NONE. ZERO MITOTIC CELLS SEEN! Her mast cells also were clearly defined; meaning they were still cells as you would think of them, and hadn't burst. Both were VERY good indicators of how this tumor was going to behave. The Dr. said probably the only reason it was given a grade II versus a I because it had invaded past the skin and into the tissue just below it. But all those factors from the biopsy coupled with the small size of the mass and the fact that I (think) caught it early, means Heidi's prognosis is VERY good!! Yay!!! FINALLY some good news! But there still were things to discuss...

The Dr. then talked about 3 treatment options. She was very glad to see how non-aggressive this tumor seemed, but was worried about how narrow the margins were. She said that as MCT's grow, they spread out through the surrounding tissue-not down, but out. So if there are less than 1cm margins, there is a chance (hell, there is a chance even with the 1cm margins) that there are some cancer cells that remained. Which means there is a chance the tumor could grow back-and it could grow back bigger and more aggressive. She wouldn't be as worried if it were located somewhere else on the body; we could just go in and take nice big margins to hopefully get it all again. But where Heidi's is on her leg, there is only so much skin and actual BODY that is there. She said she was worried that if it came back and we needed bigger margins, there wouldn't be enough "Heidi" to allow us to get it all. So we had the three options: 1.) watch and wait-recheck the site with our surgeon every 2-3 months for a year. If it was going to grow back, it would probably be within the year. Obviously if this was the option I chose, I would need to discuss the options of future surgery with the surgeon; to make sure if it did come back, we would have options. 2.) Scar revision-where I mentioned Heidi may need a 2nd surgery to help close the wound on her leg (which used to be the skin flap) and she suggested we take off more skin and send it to be checked; to make sure those margins were still clean and therefore also achieve larger margins. 3.) Radiation Therapy-she said that with radiation treatment to the site, it would kill (at an 80-85% success rate) any cancer cells that remained. This would involve Heidi having treatments every day, Monday-Friday, for 3 weeks (a total of 5 treatments). She would need to be sedated for each treatment (with reversible sedation) but which would involve intubation. By week one, we wouldn't really notice anything. By the end of week two, it would be a burn-like a bad sunburn. By the end of week 3, it would bee a full blown burn-raw, red, painful and weeping. She would be healed in a week or two from the burns, and her hair would grown back in a few months-and it would grow back gray.

She told me the options, but then said there was no true rush to decide on them right away. She wouldn't be able to do any RT on Heidi until her leg was completely healed-at least another month. Unless I was going to have the 2nd surgery, there wasn't any rush to a decision. HOWEVER, she did then talk to me about other diagnostic tests. The talked about doing aspirations on her spleen, lymph nodes and bone marrow. She also suggested chest x-rays and an abdominal u/s. It would be about 1000$ for the diagnostics through them (but probably a lot cheaper at our hospital) and then it would be 3500$-4000$ for radiation therapy, should I decide to pursue that. Clearly I have some big decisions to make...

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That's the jist about how the consult went. As you can see, great news! Essentially, if your dog is going to get a MCT, the kind Heidi has is sort of the one you hope for: small, low grade, and seemingly not that aggressive. I'm glad we have not only have AN option, but several. I am SO THANKFUL that the prognosis is good. I am so GRATEFUL that my girl has such excellent care. And I am so HOPEFUL that we have a long and golden road ahead of us...
(next update will let you know what I have ultimately decided to do...I think, anyways! My mind keeps changing slightly from day to day...) Thanks again for the support and well-wishes!!! Heidi and I appreciate all of the good thoughts and vibes!

Week 2: more issues, more questions...

2010-03-16T15:36:00.000-07:00

Sorry I've taken so long to update; I didn't mean to leave anyone in suspense, but things have just gotten busier. Here's whats happened last week:

Day 9: Saturday 3/6/10

Woke up early, yet again. I planned on doing my usual routine of getting up, starting to thaw the dog food and going in the shower-all while the girls stayed in bed. But Heidi stood up when I got out of bed. "Do...you need to...go out?" I asked tentatively. She started dancing around like she had ants in the pants. I guess that's a yes. I picked her up to put her on the floor and she took off out my bedroom door. I started to put on my slippers and by the time I reached for my bathrobe, she was back. Apparently I wasn't moving fast enough. I hurried to follow her to the door where she sprinted outside. I watched her squat and pee...about 3 times. Then as soon as she came in, she hit the water bowl for a drink. Something was definitely off. I thought about how the surgeon said that we would check blood work if she didn't seem better by Tuesday, but this was different-she was getting worse. I decided to take her in and have the blood pulled, but first I fed her...and she ate! Yay! I brought her to work and the Dr. who's been taking such good care of us (and who diagnosed the tumor) pulled a health check and sent it to idexx. I worried all day what the results would be; she was drinking way more than she ever had. She said to stop the previcox (which I had don't the day before after she wouldn't eat breakfast-I know gastric upset can be a side effect of any NSAID and is not to be messed around with). I waited all day for those stupid results to come in, but they didn't get posted by the time I went to bed that night.

Day 10: Sunday 3/7/10

Finally, a day to sleep a little late. My schedule changed due to our shortness of help, so I was scheduled to work 11-7 (a "swing shift") instead of my usual 8-4. I woke up early anyway though because I wanted to see if the results had come in. When I got up, Heidi did the same pee-pee dance and ran outside. Then she drank. Dammit. While she was tanking on water, I turned on the computer and signed on to idexx. The results were in...but not at all what I wanted to see. Heidi's kidney enzymes were indeed elevated. Her BUN was 70 and her creatinine was 2.9. WHAT? Her levels were beautiful the week before-we had run them the day before surgery; her BUN was 15 and her creatinine was .7. WTF??

I started to get really upset; that numb horrible feeling was back. The feeling like something was closing in and the ice-ball in the pit of my stomach had returned. I decided to go into work an hour early to see if someone could go over the results with me. But even going in an hour early gave me some time to look things up on the internet...which scared me even more. I read on one of the sites that by the time the kidney enzymes were elevated there was already significant damage. OH MY GOD. What was I going to do when on top of just being diagnosed with CANCER, Heidi was in renal failure too?? Was it the anesthesia during the surgery? The previcox? The raw diet? Her Lyme's disease? My mind was reeling. I did all I could to not just call into work and demand to speak with someone; or even calling in and asking to be put on the emergency board as a patient and wait to be seen. But I knew it was probably busy, and I could just as easily speak with someone when they had the time. I had to try and remember what I had hear our Dr.s tell other clients-when they are in renal failure, they felt really crappy; like a terrible flu. Heidi was not behaving any differently other than drinking and peeing a lot. Good. Her spirits were OK. She seemed a little more, I dunno, depressed? But that was because she was wearing the cone just about all the time...I was pretty sure, anyways.

So I went in early to work, and I had been right.It was busy. One of the Dr.s did take the time to look over the results quickly with me, and gave me a plan for the day: they would run blood work in house (to make sure the results were right) and would check a sterile U/A as well. They did that later that morning, and then the surgeon came in to check on some other patients and looked at Heidi as well. She said we would still keep an eye on the black, dead skin flap and then she looked at the results of the in house labs. She said something was making her kidneys angry, and for now we would do sub-q fluids then (and the next day) and then recheck her labs on Tuesday. She was given the fluids and hung out in her crate. This went on all throughout the day. It was one of the busiest Sundays I have worked in months; we were 1 Dr. down (we usually have 3) so it was nuts. This was probably a good thing, because while I was focused on working and getting other peoples pets taken care of, I couldn't stress about Heidi. Well, I should say I couldn't stress about her as much as I would have had I been idle...

I went home that night praying this fluid therapy would work, and we wouldn't be looking at severe changes to her life as a result of kidney damage or failure. And of course I worried how this would effect my future medical decisions regarding her care and her treatment-how will we control pain? What if she needs treatment for her cancer? What about her arthritis when she is back to normal? What if she needs sedation because of another procedure? Because I didn't know what caused this, I didn't know how to prevent it happening again...if best case scenario, it was cured. Worst case is that it wouldn't be cured and I could make it worse...

Day 11: Monday 3/8/10

A day off. Because I was starting school the following Monday, they implemented the schedule change this week to make sure they stayed with the same pay period. I decided to just take it easy. Spend the day snuggling, watching movies, and prepare my questions and concerns for her kidneys. I was planning on going in for her fluids in the afternoon-when she had been given them the day before. I was just planning on going in and having the technicians give them (just like any other normal client). But when I checked Heidi's incision and skin flap (which I did several times a day) I saw something that made me even queasier than just the black skin: it had started to separate from the pink skin; the healthy skin that remained on the back side of the flap-the side of the flap that was attached to the rest of her leg, rather than the black part that was stapled. It was not only pulling apart, but there was yellowish goo that filled in the gaps in places. Ruh-roh. What if it was infected? I had paused in her course of antibiotics while she was not eating, so what if I had caused this too? I decided to call work and make a formal appointment; we could get her wound checked, I could get my questions and concerns addressed and she could have her fluids.

The Dr. (yes the same we had been seeing) really took her time and patiently answered my questions. She thought it was the previcox that caused the kidney issues; once they had flushed them out, they should return to normal. No more NSAIDS-EVER. We couldn't really discuss what would happen if they didn't flush properly-if the levels continued to be high-because she didn't know just yet (well, I think she did, but she didn't want to freak me out!) She looked at the wound and said it was normal it was separating: "remember, its just a big, ugly scab". The yellow stuff wasn't puss, but connective tissue. Yuck. But relief. Heidi got her fluids and we went home. More time spent worrying and thinking about the future...its scary when you don't have things to actually worry about. This was ridiculous!

Day 12: Tuesday 3/9/10

Finally, a day to get some answers! We hoped to hear from the surgeon about what to do in terms of the skin flap (aka "disgusting scab") and her kidney levels. I thought about it all day, but didn't really get any answers until the end of my shift. The Dr. had booked some time to see Heidi just about the time my shift was scheduled to end. But I had a problem with my cash report (as I was missing cash and credit card slips) and so took a while to really get finished so I could be with her. I was really angry; I tend to let little things completely send me over the edge when I get stressed out. Finally I went out back where a piece of paper was waived in my face by the Dr. who was now giving Heidi her fluids. The piece of paper were her results. Her BUN and creatinine were NORMAL. Holy CRAP!!! Two days of fluids and she had been fixed! I high fived the Dr. but immediately got down to business-I had found a small bump on Heidi's neck the night before and wanted it checked. I couldn't be truly happy until I knew this was nothing too. The bump was small, white and felt completely part of the skin. It had been there for a while, but I wanted it checked. It was nothing. Just a bump. Yay!!! Now it was time to be happy! I went home feeling better than I had in days! Well, a little less nervous anyways! The surgeons report was also pretty good; she said she would "debried" the wound (aka "pick off the scab") on Thursday and we would go from there. She might consider doing a second surgery to close the wound remaining (with staples and sutures) or she would do wet to dry bandages. But she wouldn't decide anything until her kidneys were better...truly better. That was good enough for me!

Day 13: Wednesday 3/10/10

Another day off! I decided to clean the house in the morning and a friend came over in the afternoon. It was again nice to not be as worried about everything. Well, I was almost less worried. Heidi had peed herself in my bed while sleeping. Hmmm...not something I was pleased about. Not because I minded waking up early (as Heidi had woken up to go pee at about 4 am-which made the accident even more puzzling) or because I had to wash my bedding, but because I had to put her in the tub. And I had to wash her very delicately to try and keep her wounds dry. She was not happy, but I couldn't leave her with pee on her skin and hair. That night my mom and I went to run some errands and I found myself at Petco looking at doggy depends. I didn't want Heidi to ear something all the time (the cone was bad enough!) but I wanted something to wick the pee away from her skin should she have another accident. I had her wear them that night, but they turned out to be unnecessary. OK. Well, I have a 15 pack of doggy diapers that I'll keep on hand. No big deal; better to be safe than sorry.

Day 14: Thursday 3/11/10

One more day to sleep in; well, sort of. I had taken some Tylenol pm to try and allow me to really sleep, but I was so worried about Heidi I kept waking up anyways. When she moved, I woke up. And put her out. Then I tried going back to sleep. I was groggy due to the meds but also the inability to truly get a good nights sleep for over a week. I had to go into work early again to see the surgeon. I had really only planned on bringing her in for a suture and staple removal, but the "scab picking" soon commenced. I thought I was going to PASS OUT. Seeing it peeling away on its own over the previous few days was gross, but seeing it peeled away from the skin and being able to see the inside of your dogs leg was really stomach turning. She decided to do a wet to dry bandage to peel away any ickies that were on the leg; and to soften the rest of the scab, because not all of it would come off. Well, at least if its bandaged I would have to look at it!

Heidi was still drinking a lot, so I planned on keeping an eye on that as well. But we figured we'd give it a few days to a week before rechecking her levels. She would need daily bandage changes for the next few days anyway, so shed be with me at work should I decide to check them at any time, or if I saw her behavior changing in any way. She went home with my mom that night (as I was working until 9, and knew shed be more comfortable at home) but I told her she couldn't really walk with her bandage; it went essentially from her arm pit to her wrist-covering her elbow, which impeded her walking. Apparently my mom thought I was lying though, because she said she was fine when I did get home! I think it was because the bandage slipped down and she could move freer...but she could have just been playing me!

Day 15: Friday 3/12/10

Two weeks. Two weeks since our lives were tossed about like a doll house in a twister. But things were calming down. Sure, there were still issues-including having to still have a consult at NEVOG, still keeping an eye on Heidi's pd/pu and daily bandage changes (which are now over the shoulder style, as the bandage kept slipping down which was not at all conducive to healing the whole wound!) I'm trying to keep focused on how different our future will be-I'm trying to focus on the positive aspects of that: pretty soon we'll be walking and hiking again, hitting the beach and our favorite spots in the mountains and kayaking. I'm trying to keep a level head and keep things in perspective. I know none of our lives will ever be the same again, but I have to try my hardest to make sure that I keep doing whats best for Heidi; for all of us.
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The last few days have been sort of uneventful; Heidi is still getting her bandage changes and is starting to get some spunk back. She hobbles pretty well when she wants to, and wants to play again. The surgeon said her leg looks good, and we may not have to go in and reclose; it may just heal on its own. We have the appt. with NEVOG tomorrow, and I feel good about it. Ive been doing a lot of research and feel good about the information Ive gathered, and the questions I'm prepared to ask. My next post will be up when I can type it, and I'll let everyone know how the consult went. This is the big one. This is where we'll get the answers...

Thanks again for your support through this difficult time...it really is appreciated!!!

The worst week EVER...

2010-03-08T15:52:00.000-08:00

I know this is long, but I'm almost writing this more for myself than for anyone else. I want to be able to look back and remember what it was like going through this situation as it was happening. I hope that when I look back, everything will be OK, and I will be able to see and realize how far we have traveled from now until then. I started writing this the other day, but only finished it to post now. I'll get the 2nd update up when I can...the saga is still on going...
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Today is Friday March 5. It is the end of the longest 7 days of my life...and although I'm posting this now, the ordeal is not quite over. I planned on posting last week about how my life was turning in a new direction; and with this hope, I was starting to feel better mentally, more optimistic. I was also going to talk about my little ones birthday-Shelby turned 7 last Saturday, February 27th. But instead of all of that good stuff, I'm here to talk about something that happened that completely eclipsed that; cast it all into shadow. I have had bad days in my life before-truly bad days. Days when I thought my very soul was being ripped apart and pried from my body in tiny pieces-shattered and broken from the immense grief and pain only losing a loved one could bring. I have felt that immeasurable sadness before, but this feeling was something totally different. It wasn't the crushing blow that you feel when you find out someone you loved has passed away suddenly, but the mind-numbing, full blown panic that hits every nerve of your body; freezing it with blinding fear that renders you unable to do anything: move, think or react. I can imagine being in the middle of the street seeing an oncoming car heading straight for you. That kind of feeling. What caused it? Here is the story of my worst week ever:

Day 1-Friday, 2/26/10

I worked my usual day shift of 7-4. I had a pretty rough time all day because I was still feeling sick. I had received a tetanus booster on Wednesday and it was hitting me hard: I had body aches and chills and was unable to move my arm. The weather was pretty bad (with a windy, freezing rain/snow mix) that just seemed to make me feel worse. I knew I had to go to the grocery store, so decided to take the girls with me to the doggie bakery for their goodies that same night. I figured that where I'd have to work tomorrow and still might not be feeling well, I should get everything out of the way now. Tomorrow we'd be able to relax and not have any running around to do. We could just celebrate Shelby's birthday, and I could watch them enjoy their snacks. So we ran the errands and went back home. I spent some time in the hot tub (to try and feel better) and had finally snuggled up on the couch with the girls. My mom was sitting next to me with Shelby on her lap, and Heidi was sitting facing me. I was rubbing her chest and the inside of her legs when I felt something odd: a lump.

I asked my mom to turn on the light as I flipped Heidi on her back. I searched her leg but couldn't immediately find what I had felt. Then I saw it: a small, pink, lump on the skin of her left front leg. It looked and felt fluid filled; it was squishy. It was bigger than a pea, but smaller than a dime. I didn't squeeze or pick at it. I knew I wanted one of our docs to take a look in the morning. I went to bed a little worried, but after looking up every version and picture associated with the googled phrase "dog lump", I felt it must be a cyst.

Day 2-Saturday, 2/27/10

I woke up felling a bit nervous, but pretty sure it was a cyst or big pimple. I packed up the girls and brought them with me to work. I was telling a friend of mine what I had found when one of the Dr.s walked up-I asked her if she could take a look. She said she could, and I found myself putting Heidi on the table a few minutes later. She looked at it and said something like "oh yeah, it looks like a skin-tag, but we always aspirate it to be sure." She stuck a needle in it, but not enough cells came with it. So she got a bigger one, and sucked some stuff out. Now the smooth pink nodule turned purple and very angry looking. One of the other Dr.s stepped over and agreed with the first that, as it now started to ooze a bit, it must be a cyst. I put Heidi back in her crate with Shelby, and tried to finish the work I had been doing. A few minutes later I was talking to a coworker when the Dr. came and asked if she could talk to me; she pulled me aside in to the Dr.s offices and told me the news that would change our lives: it was a mast-cell tumor. It was cancer.

I admit, I pretty much lost it. I remember crying and hugging her, thanking her for telling me. I remember her saying she wanted the surgeon to look at it right away, and she would go get her then. I went upfront (still crying) and sobbed to my friend what the news was. I asked someone to cover for me, and I punched out. I just wanted to be with my girl. When I went out back, the surgeon was already looking at Heidi. I cried as I kissed and petted her head. I remember someone telling me that she didn't know why I was upset; she didn't know she was sick. The surgeon was saying that it was small and in a good spot; she could get some extra skin from her side and armpit to close the wound-they wanted to obviously get as much tissue as they could to make sure they got it all. I was trying to focus on what she was telling me, but my mind was reeling. Cancer? CANCER? My 7 1/2 year old baby, who is raw fed and hasn't had vaccines in years? I didn't understand. I asked the surgeon when she could do it. "I can hold her if you want to do it right now!" I said. Everyone laughed. "Yeah, we use anesthesia here, you know" said one of the Dr.s. But the surgeon said she could come in tomorrow. She would come in on a SUNDAY to take care of my girl. I was blown away. I really do work with amazing and generous people.

I called my mom who couldn't really believe it; then she asked how much it cost. I know she was only asking because she was thinking of my future. I had just signed up to go back to school for canine massage. But at the time when I was so emotional, I took it the wrong way. I told her she wouldn't have to worry about it. The hospital is great with working with employees and payment plans. All I could think about is how badly I wanted this to be it. One lump. One surgery. No more cancer. I went home that night and snuggled with my special girls. I explained to Heidi what was going to happen the next day, and to Shelby about how we were both going to need her. I gave them some birthday cupcake (and I cut it up this time, so we didn't have another choking episode like last year) and we went to bed. I knew it was going to be a rough few days. What an understatement.

Day 3-Sunday, 2/28/10:

Surgery day. I got up early to get there for the surgeon to be able to start right away. My friend Ginny, who I had sobbed to the day before, came in on her day off to be with me, and jump in as receptionist back up so I could be out back with Heidi when she needed me. We got there for 7, and I didn't have to start working until 8-which meant I could be with Heidi while she got knocked out. The Dr. did a quick physical and looked at her blood work we had run the day before. They decided both were OK and we could proceed with surgery. The Dr. gave her a shot of hydromorphone in her "butt cheek" and she went down-hard and fast. She was really conked out. And a good thing, because she is such a hard stick, the technician couldn't get a good vein on her. (I knew she was tough from the blood work we had tried to collect the day before) She decided the best way to go was to put her cath in her back leg once she was out.

Her surgery went very well. They had to use little anesthetic until the end because the hydro had worked so well. Only when they were stapling her closed did they need to turn it up. They came to get me so I could see her. The Dr. lifted the blanket, and I was pretty shocked at what I saw: she has an incision wrapping from the inside of her front left leg up through her armpit and onto her side. I haven't counted the staples, but there are a lot. She also had 2 surgical drains. I hadn't realized it would be so large and extensive. It was a lot to take in. The tumor would be sent out to be biopsied the next day. I was planning on taking her home that night (they had me get a fentanyl patch to keep her medicated at home) but it was clear it was better for her to stay the night. She was a mess. They came out midway through the morning and said they were putting the "BAIR-Hugger" on her because she was cold. That was a scary sight. Not because of what it is (its just a big blanket of hot air) but because of the connotations associated with it; I really only ever see it used on extreme cases-like when a bulldog almost drowned in its owners swimming pool. But I knew it would help her, so I swallowed my fear and told myself it was just temporary.

After my shift was done, I decided to take Shelby to our friends dog playgroup. I went more for myself then for Shelby (you know, because shes a snob and hates it). I could use the support of dog-friends, and knew someone who's dog had a MCT removed off of the top of his foot; if anyone would know how I was feeling, it would be her. I did have a nice time talking with everyone and left feeling a bit more placated. I drove back to the hospital to visit with Heidi and to tempt her with some food. (Just like when they had dentals, I decided to have her on "the honest kitchen" instead of her raw; I didn't want any extra bacteria around her with her drains in, and knew it was gentle on her tummy). She was still in the BAIR-hugger, but it was placed under her blankets rather than on top, heating her from beneath. She was more awake, but clearly not herself. She was still very sleepy and seemed to be uncomfortable. I offered her some food and she ate like a champ. I petted and snuggled with her for about an hour and then got Shelby so she could visit as well; she hadn't seen Heidi since that morning, and I thought it would be important for Shelby to see her so she could settle when we got home. Shelby was so good: she sniffed and smelled her, but was extremely gentle. She laid down next to her and laid her head so softly on the very edges of Heidi's feet. She stayed like that and fell asleep while I snuggled and petted them both. The techs I work with are great. They kept an eye on when she was due for her pain meds (and if she might need them earlier) and when she needed to be iced. One of them tried getting her up every so often because she was essentially stuck laying on one side. But when lifted, she screamed; and she couldn't stand on her own. It was hard to watch. They would have let me stay the whole night, but I knew I had to get home and get some sleep. And I had to feed Shelby. I left around 9:00 when they were starting to get busy again, and went home. I fed Shelby, did some random things around the house, and ate a small frozen dinner myself. I wouldn't have eaten at all, but I knew I would feel worse if I didn't. I took some Tylenol pm to help me sleep and went to bed.

Day 4-Monday, 3/1/10

Looking back now, I don't really remember much of Monday. I got up early to be at the hospital for 7 to feed Heidi breakfast. I didn't have to actually work until 12:30. I got there and was pleasantly surprised at how good she looked. She was laying more upright (versus on her side) and had an elizabethan collar on. She could now stand (when helped up) but couldn't really walk. Her front leg hurt, and her opposite back leg was bandaged right to the toes for her IV. When I picked her up, she didn't scream, but she was covered in pee. Not like she had been laying in it for a while, but she was still laying on pee soaked blankies. I decided to take her out any way to see if she needed to do anything else and carried her carefully outside. When I put her on the grass, she stood there but really couldn't move. When I moved to try to get her to follow, she just ended up spinning in scared circles-she was worried about the traffic (because she was doped up on the pain meds), and her bandaged leg was the opposite from her "boo boo leg" so she spun. It was heartbreaking. I picked her back up and took her inside. I cleaned out her cage and put her back in. She seemed gratetful to be able to lie back down in warm comfort. I spent a little more time snuggling and then went back home. I fed Shelby, let her out and then we both got back into bed. I was exhausted. I slept for an hour or two and then had to start getting ready for work. I went back an hour before my shift started to spend some more time with Heidi and offer her the 2nd half of breakfast (which she again ate hungrily). I noticed that she was laying in pee again. I changed her cage, and took her out (she still hadn't pooped) to no change from that morning. I spent some more time with her and she had peed herself again when I had left for a few minutes. I let the Dr. know. This was unusual for her. She said we'd turn down the fluids. I worked my shift, checking on her sporadically, and the technician came in a little before I was leaving and let me know they took her completely off the fluids and pulled out her IV as she was now on her oral pain meds (tramadol and previcox which I had brought from home-it seems to be the only thing she responds to for her arthritis). I could take her home if I wanted to, but where I was just going to be back first thing in the morning, I decided it would be better for her if I kept her there rather than dragging her home just to truck her back in the morning. I fed her dinner, and left for the night. I missed having her warm body sleeping next to my head on my pillow...

Day 5- Tuesday, 3/2/10

Up early again. I was supposed to start at 7, but went in at 6 to get an update, some snuggle time in and feed her breakfast. She looked SO much better. She was more alert and able to walk. I took her out and she pooped! Yay! I felt much better now that she was empty. I never thought Id get so excited to have to scoop poop! I put her back in her house, fed her breakfast and went to work. The day (just like all the others) passed by as a blur-full of nervousness and worry about her: how would she do at home? How was her incision? WHAT was the biopsy going to say? I had put a large note on her account so when the report came in, whoever got it off the fax machine would call me with the results. The Dr. who had diagnosed the tumor noticed how anxious I was and gave me the ability to check the results from home. You bet I was going to! I left at the end of the day leaving Heidi at work. She couldn't ride in my car because she couldn't fit in the crate with her cone on. My mom and I would be back to pick her up when she got out of work. I told her we would be back soon, and left her for the last time. I went home to get Shelby to the doggy store to buy some salmon oil, but found myself on the computer looking to see if the results were in. THEY WERE. I clicked the results with my hands shaking. I scanned the page quickly: GRADE II-clean margins noted at .6 to .8. I felt happy and let down at the same time; that numb feeling had returned. Grade II. We were hoping for a Grade I. I couldn't believe it...what did this mean?

I did end up taking Shelby to the store, and then met my mom at home. She kept pestering me about Heidi's bill. I didn't want to tell her because I didn't want her to pay; she has done SO much for me, especially over the past year, I didn't want her to have to do something else. It was not that high (as the surgeon gave me a break) so I could pay it in full myself. I tried leaving it at that...

She had made a HUGE box of cookie cake (for lack of a better word) for everyone at work. She put two rows of about 8 flavors of cookies in a large box and labeled them. I was touched. Truly touched. I had barely eaten for the past few days myself and couldn't fathom baking something...but my mom, she is truly wonderful. I knew she was just as thankful for the wonderful people who cared for our girl as I was. We took the box of delicious with us as we headed to the hospital. I let my mom visit with her as I grabbed her chart and waited to talk to someone. They had just started to get really busy; it was almost 6 pm. Finally the Dr. who was on that day could talk to us. I mentioned Heidi's incision and how it looked black-something the surgeon told me to watch out for. She assured me it was probably just dried blood. She said when I left earlier she would try to clean it, but it had gotten busy so she wasn't able to. Looking back, I should have pushed her to look a it while I was there...

She read the results and said they were good. She told me Id be hard pressed to find a pathologist that would grade anything a I. Most (like 70-80%) were graded II. And of course the serious ones were graded III. That lessened the numb feeling slightly. I started to be grateful for the truly good news: THEY GOT CLEAN MARGINS. That meant they got it ALL. I felt better thinking that this could be it. I talked to 2 other Dr.s on my way out; they were equally as thrilled. Clean margins, they reminded me. I felt better. One said that she would still recommend a consult with NEVOG (New England Veterinary Oncology Group) to give us more answers, but she felt confident that with clean margins they wouldn't want to pursue any other course of treatment. I felt even better! And now I got to enjoy the experience of taking my girl home. My mom threw a bit of a tantrum when she found out no one would tell her what Heidi's final bill was (as I had put a note on her account about that too) and wouldn't really speak to me the rest of the night. That definitely deflated that happy feeling I had felt so fleetingly only a few minutes before. I spent most of the rest of the night in my room with the girls; wishing I had my mom to celebrate with, but enjoying Heidi's company none the less...

Day 6-Wednesday 3/3/10

My day off. The first in a week. I felt exhausted, but also was so full of nervous energy that I really couldn't rest. I waited and waffled before finally making the call to NEVOG. Making that appt. made it seem so final; so real. More real then anything else that happened so far-even watching Heidi have surgery. Calling NEVOG meant it wasn't just a bump we had removed. It was CANCER. I finally called and they told me they couldn't make an appt. without a Dr.s referral. They took my info, but I hung up feeling upset. Like I was having to go through unnecessary obstacles to have my baby taken care of. I didn't take it personally because I knew it was their policy, but its different I guess because I work in the same field. I knew how easy it was to make an appt. with one of our Dr.s, so had a hard time swallowing how difficult it seemed to have an appt. with one of theirs. I got off the phone and called work. I asked for the Dr. to send the referral down as soon as she could, and asked to book an appt. with the surgeon for the next day to have her drains taken out. I also was concerned about the black skin on her leg; it was the skin flap that they had used to cover where the tumor was taken from. It just didn't look good to me...not at all.

We spent the rest of the day snuggling, and having icing and massage sessions. She was doing so well at home. And Shelby and I were sure glad to have her back! I called my mom to tell her about the procedure at NEVOG and she seemed better too; not so mad anymore. Heidi was still eating really well and taking her meds. I felt slightly more relaxed. I ate my first meal for dinner in days...

Day 7-Thursday, 3/4/10

I got up early due to the ever present nervous energy. My mom was having surgery on some vericos veins in her leg; she has many of them and they are causing a lot of pain and problems. I was going to bring Heidi in to work an hour before my shift started to have the surgeon look at her leg and remove the drains. Shelby would stay at home to help my mom heal after her surgery. (A friend was picking her up and driving her home-she wasn't being knocked out, but was given relaxors. I was a minor surgery, so I felt OK keeping my shift at work). I got to work and waited for the surgeon to take us back. I had gone off food again, and couldnt eat breakfast. I was really worried about her leg. I waited in the lobby like a regular patient. I was nervous as hell.

The surgeon called us out back and put Heidi on the table. She was shaking. I felt sick. It was awful. She looked at the leg and said she wanted to give it another few days. There was a chance the flap was not dead, but was "congested" from the trauma of the surgery. It was gross looking, so I felt a little uneasy about that, but trusted her. She said it was fine to take out the drains though, and pulled them. Yeah...that was unpleasant. It was icky enough seeing them taken out of one of our emergency department dogs, but to see it done to your own was...just wrong. I felt pretty lightheaded and nauseas for most of the rest of the day. Heidi stayed with me at work until it was time to go home. I took her home and fed both girls. I told my mom about the leg and she said she didnt want to see it (shes pretty squeamous). Her own surgery went well, but she was in pain-she wished they had used some kind of sedation because she had been able to feel quite a lot during the procedure. I felt bad, but glad she was OK too. I went to bed that night still worried about Heidi's leg. I thought it was dead, and worried what would have to be done to fix it. She said we would recheck on Tuesday...almost a week later. I didnt know if I could hold out that long.

Day 8-Friday, 3/5/10

One week. One full week had passed. The worst and most difficult week I had been through. The worry was driving me mad- and not being able to eat or sleep was taking its toll. But, I felt that in a few days, we would have answers for Heidi's leg, her staples could come out, we would have our consult with NEVOG and life could go back to normal. I should have known.

I made some oatmeal for myself and then fed the dogs. Heidi wouldnt eat. She got in her crate, stuck her nose in the bowl, and then walked out. I just stared. I've had Heidi since she was 16 weeks old and she had NEVER turned down a meal. Maybe it was because I hid her meds in the bowl. I took out the food, and took out the meds. She still wouldnt eat. She did however, walk over to the water bowl and took a big drink. Uh oh. It hit me. She drank 3-4 times the day before, and this was her 2nd visit to the bowl this morning. I know she was off her raw, but her food is dehydrated-she was still getting quite a bit of water in that. Why was she drinking so much? I tried having my mom feed her while I finished getting ready for work. She ate a little, but then stopped. Needles to say my own breakfast went in the trash. I got to work late after trying to get her to eat more myself. What was going on? I didn't give her her meds because she now had an empty stomach. I left her at home because my mom had taken the day off to recover from her surgery and Heidi was barking and chasing me as I left. She seemed to be feeling fine, even if she wouldn't eat.

I forgot the surgeon was there, but was glad to run it by her when I saw her at work. I told her she was drinking alot and wouldn't eat. She said to let her know about the drinking on Tuesday, and try something else for dinner. I figured d put her back on raw. If she wouldn't eat that, I would know something was really wrong. I spent all day at work worring (and again it passed as a blur) and called my mom every few hours to check on Heidi. She was doing well, and would eat cookies but not her food. I got home and thawed her some raw. She ate! Yay! I still didnt feel comfortable giving her her meds, so I didnt. I prayed she would eat for me the next day...
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I'll post the next update when I can...when we have some more answers...

Somethings wrong...

2010-02-06T18:10:00.000-08:00

If you had followed me around yesterday, by days end you would have thought it was no different than any other. I worked my normal Friday shift, and did my normal work things. Yet, something was different about yesterday. Something...changed. For some reason the events that unfolded stuck with me; past the shift. I usually try to "leave work at work". Unless someone asks me how my day went, I usually don't mention it. And when I do, it's usually in generalities and pretty vague. It's just that I don't want work to define me; to become who I am. There are incredible things I see every day-some happy, but a lot very sad. I learned early on working here (especially in the ER) that it is best to distance yourself from the situations we see. We need to make sure that we don't get too involved...so that we can go home and function normally at the end of our day. So we can lead normal lives, and not be dragged down by the incredible sadness that we not only witness, but are involved in every day. After yesterday, I'm not sure I can do this any more.

It was an OK for the most part; again, nothing out of the ordinary. I booked appointments, answered questions, prepped files, and checked in and out patients. I got a call late morning from the grooming department, asking if I specifically could take a call. The person on the line was thinking about buying a Sheltie puppy from a breeder here in New England. I picked up the line, and answered her questions, which mostly consisted of the difference between the sexes, what questions they should ask the breeder, and what health screens the breed should have. I probably answered her queries with a little more enthusiasm and detail than I normally should have (as I was working, and did have other clients to help after all) but the conversation left me feeling good. I had helped someone become even more prepared for adding a lovely addition to their family. When I worked at the training center (and even now that I work at the vet) we always tell owners with lots of questions that they are the type of owners that we love to see, and wish there were more of; people who cared enough to find out how to go about doing things right by themselves and the new dog, rather than just buying the puppy that was staring at them out of a pet store window. After I hung up with the Sheltie owner-to-be, I found a smile on my face and a sense of peace in my heart. I felt really good.

That good, happy, warm and fuzzy feeling stayed with me for the rest of the day, right up until the end of my shift. Then, when I was about to leave, I was walking through the ER doors back into the treatment area of the hospital, and I saw a girl I worked with carrying an elderly Sheltie out back. This usually only means one of two things: 1.) the patient was coming in for an emergency and would be brought right to the technicians and Dr. to be triaged or 2.) the dog was there to be sent over the bridge. Unfortunately, it was the 2nd situation. The dog, as it turned out was in its teens and unable to walk or get up any more. I told my friend who brought him out back that I would stay with him while the technicians got set up. I held the poor guy while he lay on the table, shaking and shivering, not knowing what was to come next.

I suddenly found myself unable to think clearly. I had laid my hands on him to comfort him, and was surprised when after only a few seconds they felt very very hot. They usually only feel like this when I am practicing Reiki. I focused more sending my energy to him, and seemed to almost hear his frantic thoughts: "what am I doing here? Wheres my family? Who are you?? Whats going on? I hurt a lot. Whats that buzzing noise? Ouch! That hurt my leg! I'm scared...wheres my family??"

It just broke my heart. I'm not saying I'm any type of animal communicator or anything; I think any animal lover who was there would have surmised that that's what the dog was thinking. Usually what happens is while the owner is doing the paper work out front, we are getting the catheter placed out back. Then the dog is brought back to the owners room so everything is done; they can then spend as much time as they want and need saying goodbye before the Dr. comes in.

When the technicians were finally ready, I said my own silent goodbye to this sweet, sweet boy and took my leave. I was really out of it. I had a few things left to do before leaving the building, and I was finding myself walking in circles-unsure of what I just did or what still needed to be done. I couldn't believe what I just was a part of: a family saying goodbye to their beloved friend, and making the brave decision that today was the day. It was such a complete, 180 degree change from what had made me so happy only a few hours before. It was like two days had taken place: one with sunlight, and one without.

I went home and spent some time with my own girls. I keep a picture of them in a magnetic frame on my cash box at work. When I saw the picture, I knew I just had to get home. To make sure they were OK...to tell them I loved them.

I went to bed last night feeling as though something had broken. I was tired, so I felt like maybe some sleep would allow me to feel better, like my own detached self from before. But I do not feel better; I do not feel different. I fell the same-like something is wrong. I have never, ever felt afraid or unhappy about going to work (since Ive started at the clinic 2 years ago, anyways). I don't want to go tomorrow. I don't know if I have the strength to witness, to be a part of, another day full of sadness. I know that the whole day won't be awful. It's always nice to send patients home with a promise of "the medication will make him/her better", but this isn't always the case. People come in every day knowing their pet is sick; and they are now unable and unwilling to let them go on. And then other people come in knowing their pet is sick, but not knowing how sick they truly are; not knowing that their dog has bloat or a ruptured abdominal tumor. And then they are suddenly faced with leaving their best friend behind; never to be seen again, until the ashes are returned to them.

I don't want to do it any more, but don't know how to avoid it. Its part of my job, and I cant say no. Its not fair for me to neglect this most difficult piece of the work, and leave it for someone else to do. Everyone has a hand in this most dreaded "procedure": we as the "client care" team do the paperwork (which means dealing with an understandably distraught and sad owner) and usually bring the pet out back to the technicians; their part is to get the catheter places and bring the pet back to the owner, and then finally, the Dr. helps try to soothe and comfort the owner, and to finally give the final injection of sleep. I don't know why I am having such a hard time dealing with this now. I mean, having worked here for 2 years, I have done this already...more times than I care to think about. But something has suddenly changed...I know I keep saying it, but something is different. And I don't think it is because the dog yesterday happened to be a Sheltie. Last week, I had a hard time with a Dobie who had come in, and who's owners were unable (emotionally) to be there during the final moments. No pet is ever alone, even if the owners cant (for whatever reason) be present. But I had that same awful feeling of thinking of what must be going through the dogs mind. Is there something wrong with me? Have I lost my nerve? Am I anthropomorphising to an extreme degree? I feel damaged; like the reason they don't have people running the machines that deliver lethal injections to death-row inmates any more is because those people ended up with extreme emotional distress. I don't feel like I'm necessarily there yet, but...I don't want to feel like this any more.

I was strangely happy working in the hospital for so long because I felt like seeing so many difficult and often tragic situations allowed me to constantly remember how short life is; and how our pets lives are even briefer still. But now I feel like its affected me to the point where all I can think about is my girls, and my own, mortality. I feel like a sad weight, a steely-gray cloud has come over me. And having learned the lesson (time and time again) of how short life is and how much it should be enjoyed, I know that I don't want to continue to feel like this...but now what to do? I am right now on a "two year plan", during which I will pay off the bills, bank some money and be able to move out. I'm in no position to move things up, or to start over at a new job right now...just because I suddenly feel "uncomfortable". I hope I shake this feeling, but I know it may be with me for the long haul. I know that doesn't sound very optimistic, but...I don't know what I can do to fix it. How do you fix and emotion or feeling? I don't think I'm at a place yet where I need therapy (oh my doG, I cant believe I just said that) but I am troubled; shaken. I hope tomorrow does go OK, and I can keep going on and doing my job...for all our sakes. I could go on and on, but this post is long enough. Hopefully I'll have a better update for the next post...

Too much to ask??

2010-01-30T14:10:00.001-08:00

What do you do when your neighbors are driving you up the wall??? I live on the end of a dead end street (well, the last house on the left...the very end leads into a marsh) and really can't stand any of my neighbors! When we first moved here, I thought how wonderful it would be to live on a nice quiet road, with only about 6 or 7 houses on it between the two sides. And the house really is wonderful, just in itself. I love the house and the yard it sits on. I thought it would be a wonderful change from the side-by-side condo we were then living in. We have a two story, two car garage and an above ground pool with wrap around deck. I thought everything would be great...

But unfortunately, it soon came to pass that my neighbors are not the best people to live next to. I have a hard enough time with the screaming children who treat ours and others property with little respect (our fence that's broken in 3 places is testament to that), but the biggest problem is another neighbors dog. These people live across the street, one house down. They have a white husky/shepherd mix that they leave in a pen almost all day and night. From what my mom found out a year or two after we moved here, the dog is not very nice. The father said he has bitten him and other members of the family and escapes when he can. Every day they walk him from their front door to his prison-like pen. This dog barks almost non stop every day. I mean, seriously barks...NON STOP. Last night I timed over two straight hours. It is driving me C-R-A-Z-Y!!!

I mean, I live with Shelties; the most barky breed out there. Both of my girls do bark a lot...but it is indoors where no one else can hear them but my mom and I. Outside they bark when they play, but are not permitted to bark incessantly. And that is the greatest difference: they're not outside alone, without me, to be ALLOWED to bark incessantly! But this dog, this dog just barks because he has nothing else to do. And it's not even the barking that bothers me. It's the complete indifference of the owners. I mean, they can't NOT hear it. The dog is in their own yard for petes sake. They must just ignore it. And they expect everyone else around them to as well. They let it go on for hours and hours, and at the most inconvenient times. The dog was outside until 10:30 pm last night and was out at 7 am this morning...and today is SATURDAY! I mean, people have the day off, and (can you believe it?) expect to be able to sleep in! They are now essentially dictating when I can and can't sleep! I can't go to bed before 10:30, or get up after 7...are you kidding me??? Is a little consideration for your neighbors too much to ask??

And as I type this, and everytime the dog is out there barking, behind my irritation is a sadness. When I go to sleep and wake up every day, (what ever time that may be) the first and last thing I see are my girls, snuggled up next to me in bed. I go to work to make money that I spend on toys, food and treats for them. They get the best veterinary care, eat the best food, have memory foam beds and my vacation time is planned for their enjoyment as much as mine. But that dog...that dog that does all the barking across the street, gets none of that. That dog is locked out in his pen (which can't be more than 10x12) in the freezing cold and blistering heat, day in and day out. The only things he sees is the chain from the pen door and the tarps that cover the walls. His paws touch nothing but the dirty concrete that is his floor. The only walks he gets is the 15 foot tug of war he fights as the owners bring him to or from the house. He barks because he is bored, and probably neglected. Now, I don't know what his indoor life is like. I don't know whether he gets right up on a warm spot on the couch when he gets unleashed just beyond the door, or whether he is locked in the basement or a crate. I hope its the first option...

So as I sit, with my nerves rattled and my irritation escalating, I stop and realize that we are both asking ourselves the same thing: is allowing the dog inside too much to ask??

7 groups

2010-01-10T21:46:00.000-08:00

OK, I know this is a little late, but I wanted to play the game too!! After seeing this post on several of our favorite blogs, I decided to give it a go to. But before I post my "final line up" let me just warn you...I AM A DOG SNOB!!!

There are just some things that, I dunno, are a turn-off for me when it comes to dogs. Just like when we first start to date, there are some things that we are immediately attracted to or turned off by. For me, I love fluffy dogs. I am actually allergic to short, tight coats (think Boxers, Am. Staffs, etc) and don't really care for curly coats that need to be clipped like Poodles, Wheatens or Portuguese Waterdogs (when they're not clean, they can have a waxy, dirty texture). I also can't have my dogs drooly or with beards. All that slobbery wetness is just nasty; not to mention food usually gets trapped in there too. I like dogs with tails, dogs with long noses and dogs with legs. And I am definitely more of a small dog person rather than a large dog one. A lot of the reasons for this are practical-I need dogs that I myself am able to lift and/or carry in an emergency. But really, I just like the small size to cuddle and travel with!

And of course beyond just appealing looks, they have to have a great temperament. I (as I expect most people who have training as a passion) hate rude, obnoxious dogs. Of course, any breed left untrained and to their own devices can be rude and obnoxious. But some breeds are just more prone to being so. I hate to pick on them, but Boxers tend to be some of the rudest dogs out there. They just run on up to you and jump all over you and your dog. Bleeeech....I like my dogs well mannered and polite enough to look to me to ask whether or not it is OK to "say hello". I want my dogs to be needy enough to snuggle with me on couch or in bed, and who want to be with me more than any where else; but not to the point where they can't be alone. They need to travel well and not bay or bark when left alone. I also like dogs who were bred to do "a masters bidding"; I don't mean that with any dominance connotations. I mean that most dogs were bred to do a job, but some were bred for more independent work. Like hounds were bred to hunt in a pack away from the huntsman, but retrievers and setters were meant to work directly with the hunter. Terriers were bred to kill any and all vermin on the farm; herding dogs were bred to be in the pasture with the shepherd to direct the flock according to their direction. People may confuse this with intelligence; it is not that one breed is smart and one is dumb. You have to look at HOW the dog thinks, and WHAT is the motivation for him/her to do so.

I know, I know. Some of this stuff is ridiculous (like the tail, nose and legs). But again, everyone has their own likes and dislikes, which is why we end up with the breeds we do. But with all that being said, here are some other breeds (according to group) that I could not only see myself living with (some, only if forced) but some breeds that I could definitely see myself owning:

Group 1: Sporting
The Sporting group is an easy group for me to chose from. Members of this group tend to be fairly similar to the Herding dogs (of whom I am somewhat partial to ;0) Because they were bred to work so closely with humans, their temperaments are more biddable and willing to please than members of some of the other groups. Most have that long coat I love so much, and there are a lot of different sizes to chose from. I do like the American Cocker Spaniel very much, but aren't a big fan of the coat that needs a lot of tending to. Their popularity has lead to a lot of health problems, but that is true for a great many breeds spanning all the groups. So that consideration will be null, as it probably will apply to most of my choices. I really love English Setters too. But with them, its the size that is a bit of a deterrent. So I'd have to say that my choice here would be a Brittany. A nice sized dog with everything that I love; great, friendly temperament-friendly with people, but bonded with their owners, no neuroses. A great, easy to keep coat (easy compared to Shelties and Cockers anyways!) Athletic, smart...this is definitely a dog that I could not only live with but could easily own. They're beautiful and sweet. I haven't met a Brittany I haven't liked. And I think getting into Hunt tests would be a lot of fun! (Hmm...maybe I should see if there are any eligible bachelors who own them???)
Group 2: Hound
Another easy group to chose from. Not only easy because so many breeds are easily eliminated (oh doG, I could not stand baying!!!!!!) but because I have wanted one of these breeds since I was about 12 years old. I do like Afghans, but could never keep up with that coat. (Could you imagine the snow-balls tangled up in that hair during a New England winter?!?!?!) I do like Whippets very much too-very sweet, athletic and easy keepers, but I'm not sure I could handle the short coat. So my choice here is a Saluki-the best of all worlds. Beautifully elegant, sweet tempered and again, a nice size (the females tend to be especially petite). I mean, I love this breed so much I know what color I would get and what her name would be. I don't doubt that someday I will get one of these beauties. I know they're a little more aloof than I am used to, and wouldn't be safe off leash in all the places we go, but I think they are so delightful that a few sacrifices would be worth it!
Group 3: Working
OK, here's where it gets a bit tricky. This is the group I had the hardest time with because I honestly could not see myself owning any of these breeds; if for no other reason than their sheer sizes! I do love the temperaments (although all very different) of Newfies, Berners, Dobies and Rotties but really couldn't ever see myself with any of them. Newfies and Berners are a little slobbery and Dobies and Rotties don't have any coat. So I went with (although I don't know that many) a Samoyed. Their less independent than some of their northern cousins (like Huskies and Malamutes) and a bit smaller than any of the other available breeds in this group. I know they tend to be fairly friendly, albeit a bit stubborn. But I've heard they make great companions and bond well with their people. I think it would be fun to weight pull, and Dog-Scooter too!! Group 4: Terrier
Oh, doG, another toughie. Terriers just aren't my type of personality. Their just too independent; and I don't mean this as Herding or Sporting dogs cant function without their people, but Terriers just don't seem to care that you're even talking to them. They seem to be so busy with their environment and whats going on, you might as well just melt into a big puddle of invisible. Of course, we're picking by groups here, and although I'm somewhat forced to generalize, I know that there are of course, exceptions: to every group and every breed. A friend of mine has the most LOVELY Airedale right now. If they were all like her, everyone would own one! With that said, I think I would go with a Lakeland Terrier. They're not as bouncy or crazy as some of their other Terriers and seems to be fairly athletic looking. Again, I don't think I would ever chose to purchase or live with a terrier, but...there you go.
Group 5: Toy
Oh, another really easy group to chose from! I love so many breeds in this group! I fell in love with the Cavalier the year before they were admitted to the AKC. I actually went to a specialty show held here in Massachusetts years and years ago.(I still have the t-shirt!) It was the QUIETEST dog show I have ever been to! I met a lot of really nice people and great breeders. Although they are not my choice now, they will always have a special place in my heart, because they were so special to me as a girl. So my choice here is a tie. I love both Pomeranians and Papillons...although I think I would chose to own a Papillon. Poms can be a bit tougher to train and can be a bit feistier. Pap's seem to be very similar to Shelties in terms of temperament and habits (lets put it this way, I wouldn't mind a "Yappy Pappy"!) Again, a Pap is definitely a breed I could own one day. They're just fantastic, healthy little dogs that are bright and friendly. They tend to have less of a "arm-pit piranha" reputation than most other toy breeds; maybe because they know they don't have to go around shouting to get respect ;0)
Group 6: Non-Sporting
Hmmm....another toughie. You wouldn't think so because the group is so diverse, but alas. I do really like Dalmatians. I know they aren't the breed for everyone, and just like with so many other breeds you have to be careful with health and temperament, but their short coat rules them out. So although this may be a bit of a shocker, my choice is a Tibetan Terrier. The Tibetans are just fantastic! They look all glamorous like mini-Afghan Hounds, but they are totally clownish. I think they would be a JOY to live with. They come in so many colors, any ones taste could be satisfied, and they don't look weird if you clip them down (like an Afghan would). They're athletic and bright, albeit a little silly to take training so seriously ;0) Once again, I could totally see myself owning one! Group 7: Herding
Ahhhh, the best at last! Not that I'm biased. Now you all know which breed has my heart forever. But there are two other breeds here that I would share my life and love with in a heart-beat. The first is the Border Collie. This is a breed, that if I ever get my courage up, I will own one day. I was bitten by the herding bug, and would love to have a nice Border to be able to play at that with. Again, if you're careful and know what you're looking for and what you're doing, you can bypass the neurotic, crazy, OCD behaviors that can crop up with an ill-bred, ill-used BC. What you will have is a loving, sensitive, friendly best friend that has your heart forever. I see BC's as a slightly more open, less fluffy, slightly larger and a bit more intense version of the Sheltie. This is a dog I will own one day. The other breed I'm enamored with is the Belgian Sheepdog. I love their graceful, striking beauty. Again, not as intense (in terms of working) as BC's, but more aloof with strangers and more bonded to their people than some other herding dogs. These guys are like big, black Shelties in terms of temperament. But just like with Shelties, shyness can be a problem as can fear. Their size is a bit bigger than I would ever go, so I cant say that I would definitely own one, but if someone I lived with happened to own one, well...that would be OK =0)

This was a fun game to play! I've never done it "publicly" before, sharing my answers with others, but I used to to it all the time as a kid. When I would dream big about getting a puppy of said breed and go on to not only win Westminster, but (as I grew up) the Invitational and National as well (in both breed, obedience and agility, of course). I still find myself day dreaming like that every so often. But then I look at my girls: they haven't ever competed in a breed ring; they've never been trained past the Open exercises for Obedience; and they haven't competed in agility in 2 years; and I realize we don't need any of that. Yes, of course it is nice to show all of your hard work in front of your friends and peers at a show. It is nice to pick up a ribbon or place at the end of a long day of competition. And although those are special memories that will be cherished beyond measure when your special friend has crossed over the bridge, those are NOT the moments you will be wishing to have more of when that day comes. You will be thinking about how soft their fur felt; how delicately their eyes fluttered and their nose twitched when they slept; how gentle they were when they nuzzled your arm and licked your face on your saddest day. No, you will not be longing to make more memories of competition. You will be longing to have more moments when you can just sit and be together. We all get the dogs we want: we ask for them, chose them and shape them. What ever breed, from what ever group, we end up with who we are meant to be with. Be thankful.

The passage of time...

2010-01-01T08:05:00.000-08:00

I can't believe that 2009 is over. It seems like just yesterday I started to write on this blog in earnest. A way for me to let out my frustrations, fears, joys and victories while dealing with another bump in the road that is my life living with heart disease. So many things have changed in this short year, but at the same time, so many things have stayed the same. Things that I really can't let slide any more. Although yes, I did survive this particular issue with my heart, there will undoubtedly be more to come. And I am not helping the process by being so unhealthy. I swore all last year to get myself healthier-to eat better, exercise more and to lose weight. I did accomplish those...temporarily. Something always came up that derailed that self-improvement program. But I can't let those minor detours in life keep leading me down paths that I should not be on. You'd think that I would have taken last year and all its lessons to heart (no pun intended) but I didn't. Like so many of the other things in my life, I kept saying "tomorrow will be better; tomorrow I'LL be better". But "tomorrows" turned into "next week"s, and those turned into "next month"s. Now its "next year". But next year is here...you bet your Sheltie-bottoms that this year I mean it.

I'm missing out on so much; from little things like feeling out of place at family gatherings because I'm the only one who doesn't fit the "tiny" mold that everyone else does; to not taking certain trails on our walks because they might become "too long" or "too difficult". I have to change everything about the way I'm living. If I want to really enjoy my life and the lives of the amazing beings around me, I really have to get my act together...for all of our sakes.

I don't really want to make "resolutions", but set goals for myself for this year. I'd really like to keep on the right financial track that I am on now: slowly but surely paying off all of my debt so that I can start banking money. This goal, like the health one, will be a bit of a challenge for this year. The loss of our pet-discount at work will play a big part of that-not only because I'll be paying more upfront for their health care, but because I will also be putting my tax return (or most of it) towards the premium for pet insurance. (Again, more on this subject in a future post). But I am taking steps to lessen my monthly debt. Switching foods from pre-made raw to home-made will be a change, and I'm also looking into switching car insurances. They already boosted my hours at work from 35-40, so those extra 5 hours will be helpful too. I also plan on picking up as many extra shifts as I can; as I SAFELY can, I should say. Any extra money would be a big help. I plan on paying for everything I can in cash. I've already made a good head start by paying for my Christmas presents this way, so that was a big step. I just have to realize if there is something that I want, there is no rush to get it right then and there, the moment I decide I want it. I can put it on a "wish list: of sorts, and save for it. I don't know what this year will bring me health wise, so I better get my ducks in a row in case life deals me another hard hand. I already paid for my one big seminar I plan on going to this year: Patricia McConnell is coming to Worcester in July; when I found out I signed up right away. I wanted to make sure I had a spot, marked it on my calendar, and it was paid for. I love all of her books, and can hardly WAIT to see her in person! And the best part is some of my friends (the "dog ladies" as we call ourselves) have signed up too...so it will be a nice time for us to get together and see an AMAZING person give an AMAZING presentation!

I also want to work on myself for this year. I want to work on remembering everything I said I would while going through all of the rough patches last year. I want to try and not get stressed out so easily, and remember to be kind. I want to try to keep in mind that this moment spent with this being (person or animal) may be the last I ever get; no one knows what is going to happen from one minute to the next; I need to make my moments count.

The end of this year signifies so much for me. I don't know a single person who has had a really good 2009. A lot of us will not be sad to see this year go...but on the same note, this is also the end of a decade. A decade that has been really important and influential on us all. For me, this is the decade that I really "grew up" in. I graduated high school AND college. I fell in love, and then out of it. I lost dearly loved ones, including my Dad and my first Sheltie, Missy. I had 2 major health scares that almost took my life. I bought 2 cars. I moved 2 times, and lived in 3 different towns. I acquired the two dog-loves of my life that share it with now. I've had 6 different jobs (some were at the same time). I've lost friends I had when I was younger, but gained friends who share the same interests. I've changed in a lot of ways, but in so many, I have stayed the same. I've embraced my inner "geek" by being a home-body, attending dog shows, and getting excited about things like "Lord of the Rings", "Harry Potter" and "Avatar". I started in agility, was pretty successful at it, and then had to bow out because of health concerns for all involved. It's been a decade that has really covered so much of my life. Looking back, I can't believe that all that can happen in 10 years, that when looked back upon, merely seems like a blink of an eye.

So what does the next 10 years hold in store? Can anyone be completely sure? Of course not. But some things seem certain. It is certain that there will be more hard times: with everything in my life. I hope to be able to buy my own house. I'm sure that I will once again change jobs, maybe several times. I hope to be able to get back into agility (NADAC) and allow my girls to really enjoy themselves and have some fun. I'm sure there will be many more great movies I will get into, and obsess about. I'd really like to attend the 2012 Sheltie National in Florida, and someday make it to "Camp Gone to the Dogs" in Vermont. I'll attend my 10 year high school reunion. I know there will be more loss...my Grandparents continue to age, and so do my "babies". I don't think any of my friends or family with kids are planning for the day in the next decade that they will have to say goodbye to their children. They will be looking forward to seeing their kids grow up into their tweens and teens. But not us "dog parents". We will come to that inevitable day that we must say goodbye; and we might even be placed in the position of deciding when exactly that day comes. It is an awful prospect, and something I do not wish to really think about or dwell on. But when you chose to spend your life with these amazing beings, you enter into the relationship knowing that their life spans a much shorter time than yours. So we must make every day count. Real parents have their whole life time to get it right; to make sure their kids grow up successfully and with love every day. Pet-parents only have 1/4 of that time, if that. We must watch our kids change and grow up in merely a heart-beat of time; before the golden years of their seniority sets in, knowing that after this last warmth of life's autumn, winter must come.

My girls are going to be 7 and 8 this year. I plan on having a big birthday bash for them when they turn 10, and then again when they turn 15. They do not seem older to me; more mature, maybe, but not "old". I pray with every fiber of my being that they continue to stay strong and healthy for the whole next decade to come.

Other than those things, the more specific questions in life remain unanswered. I'm unsure about what I really want to do in life. I have "jobs" but don't have a "career". I desperately want to own my own business some day, but will my health permit it? I don't know if that's the wisest move. What am I to do with an associates degree in animal care, when I am not physically able to really "care" for the animals? I do really love my job now, but the company I'm working for is making it increasingly difficult for me to want to stay. The changes in policies and benefits really make working there a constant battle of worry and nerves. I would be happy to have the same job somewhere else, but how long will I need to wait before another "golden opportunity" opens? And what if it is not right next door? Will I be willing to move and relocate completely for the right job? After all, things can change...what will happen if I am far from "home" and the same bad decisions are made by that company? It's things like this that keep me awake at night. But it's also things like this that make me want to improve and not be so afraid any more. Although life hasn't worked out completely like the way I thought, everything that I did think about when I was younger has happened. It's funny when I think about it. I am exactly where I thought I would be at this age; it's just that I've had to take different paths to get here. Or maybe I was on the right path the whole time, but as I could not see where it lead in front of me, I did not know it. Whatever comes, I know it is meant to be. I must have faith. It hasn't let me down so far...

So we hope that this new year bring nothing but happiness, good times, good health, and unbelievable love for you, and your family-human and animal. 2009 is not a year that many people will be sad to see go. Hopefully the lessons that we have all learned in this tough year stick with us for the next; remember to keep things simple, as it is the small things in life that really stick with you and make the most difference. May you enjoy every moment of every day-including when you are cleaning "messes" up from the floor, brushing and blow drying for hours, vacuuming up "tumble-weeds" hidden in the corners, and being herded around your house. Remember that those times are always followed by warm snuggle sessions in bed, the peace and tranquility of a walk on your favorite path through the woods, the joy of playing with a favorite toy, and the laughter the canine-clown always bring about.

"And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer."

Santa baby...

2009-12-25T18:00:00.000-08:00

"Slip a SHELTIE under the tree, for me..." Wait...that isn't how it goes. And this isn't quite what I meant!!

Oh well =0) That's a picture of the girls under the decorated tree; and yes, I did bribe them with a cookie to get under there!

This was a great year for Christmas. Not that Christmas every year isn't great, but this year seemed to be a little extra special. It seemed like more people were looking to just enjoy the holiday for what it is meant to be: a time when family and friends gather to give thanks. Sure, the stores started to put the holiday paraphernalia out right after Halloween and the commercials about their super-sales with slashed holiday prices started airing soon there after, but all in all, I don't think a lot of people were buying it (no pun intended). People just seemed to want to have a down-home Christmas. Sure there would be gifts, but I think people limited their budget a little, and made sure that the credit cards stayed out of sight. I dunno. Maybe I'm way off target...maybe I'm only speaking from my own experience. But this year I tried to get more into the Christmas spirit and appreciate what the season really is all about!

For the first time this year, we sent out Christmas cards! I always mean to do it, but just never get around to it. Two years ago I had the photo, but no cards. Last year I had the cards, but no photo to insert into them (so I kept them to use when I DID have a photo!) So this year I took the girls to go see Santa to get their pictures done. Hey, if other kids can go, why cant mine?? The local mall was having a pet photo night the first Sunday in December. The girls and I met up with some friends at work to get their pictures taken. They were so good! They were good with all of the mall shoppers and distractions (like food on the floor). And they were VERY good for Santa! I think they were trying really hard to make the "good list". If you look closely at the picture, you can see just how hard Heidi is working...she actually put her leg and paw ON Santa's lap! She's either a.) protective of people in red suits or b.) very anxious to make sure her various misdeeds throughout the year get cleared up and erased.

That was the picture that was sent out as our holiday cards. Everyone said how cute they were and how mice it was to get the cards. I'll definitely be doing them again next year!

One tradition that I did stick to was working the holiday shifts. We are all required to work two holiday shifts throughout the year; these are emergency shifts that we pick up when the front office is closed on major holidays. Last year I picked up Christmas morning (7-3) and New Years eve (4-midnight). There were a few "left over" shifts, and I was asked if I wanted to pick another one up. Since the pay is good, I said sure-the only catch was that one shift was the other new years eve shift (3-11; which I couldn't pick up because I was obviously already going to be there) and the other shift was Christmas eve 4-midnight. I chose to pick it up anyways. Luckily as the time grew nearer, the girl who was working 3-11 agreed to switch with me so I could leave that extra hour early...which translated to an extra hour of sleep! It was a really nice thing for her to do...especially where she is 8 months pregnant!!

So last year when I worked Christmas, I made sugar cookies to share with everyone who was on that day. This year I decided to do the same; but I made two batches-one for Christmas day, and one fro Christmas eve. Now, these just aren't your run-of-the-mill sugar cookies. These are sugar cookies with a twist:

THEY'RE SHELTIE SHAPED!!! And they have "love" baked in...or is that dog hair? Oh well! People ate them, which was all I cared about.

So I worked both shifts and then spent some time with family at my aunts house. We came home and went to bed. Then TODAY, we celebrated OUR Christmas: my mom, girls, and I. I took the girls for a walk (as it was slightly milder than it has been, and snowing =0) and then came home and opened gifts. My mom was so generous; she always is. Every day, all year. But Christmas she gives even more. I tried really hard not to ask for too much, because she does give me so much all the time. And I got everything I wanted. I'm very excited about new floor mats for my "dog square" (more about that in a future post), some magazine subscriptions and a great Sheltie wrought-iron coat rack. I got her a paddle for her kayak and a gift-card for a life jacket (so we can go together in the summer!) and I got some spikes for her shoes for winter walking (for traction on ice) and some "happy feet" slippers (the "Patriots" design, of course!)

Since opening gifts, we've napped, done some laundry and dinner is just about done. Its been a very nice and special Christmas this year, and we all hope all of yours has been extra special to! Happy Pawlidays from our family to yours! Sheltie-Mom Jenn, Jenn's Mom, Heidi and Shelby

Here are some photo's of our living-room all dressed up for the occaison:

Doggie dentals

2009-12-15T18:22:00.000-08:00

That's right. The girls went in for the "Big D". Dental surgery. I know. Its not something I really wanted to do, but felt needed to-for several reasons. The first being that their teeth did need a cleaning. They both had some tartar and staining, and I wanted to make sure any problems that might be minor now, didn't get the chance to turn into major ones down the road. Heidi had broken two of her upper premolars a few years back (I think on a dumbell), so I wanted to make sure that none of her other teeth looked weak or diseased. Shelby had a tooth that was definitely questionable; her little incisor next to her lower canine tooth looked either like it had a small chip broken off, or was tilted to the point where it was half hidden by her gums. Food was getting trapped in there, and the gums around it looked a little swollen, so I wanted to make sure that I had it checked before it turned into an abscess.

Now people have been asking me, (and some of you may be wondering) why I have to get them done anyways, as "don't I feed raw?" Yes, I do feed a raw diet, but I do not feed raw bones. Well, I don't feed whole raw bones. They do get them, but they are ground down and already in their food. I used to give raw lamb ribs and pork backs, but I stopped because the girls would eat them and then vomit them back up. Cleaning the pre-digested bones up one time, I noticed the broken, chewed bones that had been previously (albeit briefly) in their stomachs were still shards as sharp as chipped ice. I decided right then that even raw, I didn't really trust them nor did I want to risk splinter-like bones having to make the dangerous pass through their entire digestive system. Don't get me wrong, they get plenty of things to chew. They usually get bully springs and y-tendons; things that with a bit of chewing and saliva usually turn into a sticky mush rather than a ball of meat and bone shards. But the chewing alone doesn't quite do it. And I have been neglectful in my end of the deal: brushing their teeth. I'll do it and get on a schedule, and then miss a day and the system will fall apart. I have to now do better and be more diligent to make sure they don't have to do this again. For all of our benefits.

A routine dental cleaning for our hospital is over 400$; a moderate or severe goes up from there, depending on the number of dental extractions and x-rays needed to make the mouth healthy. We do get a generous discount at work, but that is going to be changing (see a future post). And even with it, I don't have that extra money to be spending to just have a little bit of plaque removed under sedation every year. And I know that all of that anesthesia is not healthy for them to begin with. So I scheduled these procedures knowing that I would have to pick up the slack, and keep my end of the bargain; which translates to actively brushing the girls teeth during the week to help keep them clean.

So I booked the dentals for the Tuesday right before Thanksgiving. I had a few PTO ("paid time off") hours to burn through, so I took a half day; that way I could work in the morning while the other dentals scheduled for that day were done, and then I could spend some time with the girls when they were knocked out and then woken back up. I had no intention of staying out back through the whole procedure; that kind of pressure wouldn't be fair to the Dr. or the tech. I planned on bringing a book and staying to read or something. But then I was approved to do a few extra hours of work (reminder calls, it turned out to be ) in the time I was not with the girls, so that ended keeping me pretty busy. Heidi had to go fist because she kept trying to eat that pesky catheter out of her leg. Yes, she ended up in the "cone of shame" because she wouldn't stop trying to chew it. She took the pre-med sedation pretty well, and fell right asleep with the anesthetic too. They had no trouble with the intubation, and her dental took less than an hour.

The technician came to let me know she was done, and I spent the next little while with her in the cage snuggled up with her; I know how tough it is to wake up to sedation: you don't know whats going on, or where you are. Your delusional and you try to fight off the meds. I wanted the whole process to go as easy as it could for the girls; they don't know what just happened or why. Poor Heidi was swaying and licking her tongue out of the side of her mouth. I kept trying to put it in STRAIGHT, but she kept forcing it out the side so it just hung there, limply. But overall she took the wake-up quite well. They had her tucked into a blanket and a pillow for her head, and she just slept it off. But her sister was a bit of a different story.

Her sedation was a bit more difficult. First the premed didn't seem to have any affect on her at all. They actually had to give her a second dose to make her a bit more sedated. She went from standing up right and wagging her tail (1st dose) to lying down with her head hung drowsily. Then they put her on the table for the actual anesthesia. She fought this too. She actually remained standing for a few seconds before it over took her. Then she fought the tube! Bad dog! But then she went ni-nights and went off to Sheltie dreamland too.

A little while later, the doctor came to find me to discuss that pesky incisor I had shown her. She said that she did x-ray it, and although it wasn't in trouble right this second, it didn't look healthy and its root was so close to that of the canine tooth, that she thought it might become even more troublesome later on. So we decided to pull it. I finished up the last of the calls and then went to go check on the girls. When I walked out back, this awful screechy sound met my ears. Yeah, it was Shelby who appeared to be in a delusion-induced panic. I went over to her cage (while passing Heidi's-who was fine, but had a look like "PLEASE shut her the hell up so I can get some sleep!") and saw that she had her mouth open, her tongue hanging out and was in a wide-eyed SCREAM. I crawled into her cage, as I had done for Heidi, and wrapped my arms around her. It took a few minutes, but the screeching then turned into a dull, but monotonous whine. A little while later, she had settled down enough for me to eat some lunch and make the plans to bring them home.

I didn't just want to scoop them up right there and whisk them away, because both were still quite drowsy. I wanted to make sure that they were OK and it was safe to bring them home. So I took Heidi out for a potty break (which it turned out she didn't need, because she had wet the blankets in her cage =0( and then offered her some food. I was sticking with The Honest Kitchen because although "raw", it being dehydrated and processed eliminated a lot of the bacteria in it (unlike their regular raw). Its also pretty gentle so I knew it would be an OK "bland-ish" diet for them while recuperating. Heidi ate with gusto...she ate about 1/2 of a regular meals worth and kept it down no problem. I asked one of the technicians if they could feed Shelby while I went to run some errands (including hitting the bank to get some cash to pay for the dentals!)

I went back about an hour and a half later to see if they were OK to pick up. Shelby had eaten (and like Heidi, happily and with no problems) but she had also peed in her blankets. She was in her cage with 2 warm saline bags, as her temp had dropped while I was gone. But I checked with everyone, and they said they were both fine to go home. I packed up the car, packed up the ladies and took them home where they could sleep off the rest of the drunkies.
Heidi passed right out; she just slept and slept for hours. Shelby still seemed to want to fight the sedation that remained in her system. She kept pacing and not wanting to settle; she'd get on the couch, sleep for a little while and then move again. When she finally DID get to sleep, it was with her head on my hand...as it slid down as she drifted into a deeper slumber, her teeth were dragged along the skin of my hand! Those nice clean teeth left some pretty deep impressions, let me tell you!

When it was time for all of us to go to bed, I picked Shelby up off my lap and put her in my bed. When I went to go get Heidi, I couldn't wake her up easily. I picked her up and put her on the bed too, and then went to get something to drink. When I came back, I REALLY couldn't wake her up. I kept smacking her thighs and calling her to no avail. Just when I started to really panic, I grabbed some of her scruff and shook. That did the trick. She just blinked blearily up at me like "Ummm...do you mind? I'm trying to get some rest!" Talk about holy-heart failure! I decided as both were still pretty out of it, I couldn't be completely sure that they wouldn't roll off the bed. (Especially Heidi, who tries to sleep upside-down but sometimes just rolls over...) So I put their beds from my room on top of their doggy-stairs in case someone fell off; those stairs would hurt! I know, maybe this seems a bit much but Heidi has fallen off the bed WITHOUT being high on meds, so...I wasn't taking any chances!

When I woke up in the morning though, they were both still where they should be: snuggled next to me on the bed. They spent most of that day and the next sleeping off those drunkies. But by Friday Heidi was back to attacking my towel as I dried my hair and Shelby was out chasing birds out of her yard. It was nice to have a few days quiet while they recuperated, but it was nice to have them back too! They were on the honest kitchen diet for 1 week, until Shelby's recheck (for her pulled tooth). That went great, so they got raw back the next day, They had no problems transitioning right back to their regular diet and haven't had any problems with their mouths at all. I'm glad I did them now, and have started getting better about brushing their teeth. As a matter of fact, I just got back from taking them on their walk...I should go brush them now! Here are some pictures of what the girls teeth looked like before and after (we do this for all of our patients):

Caution: Contagious!

2009-11-14T15:40:00.000-08:00

Swine. H1N1. The "Pig Flu". What ever you want to call it, it all means the same thing: 5-7 days of MISERY. And I'm not just guessing; going by the incessant reporting and interviewing of infected people on the news. I'm drawing the conclusion from experience. Yes, I had "the swine".

Let me tell you folks, if you CAN find and receive the vaccine, I think I would get it. It really is that much worse than the regular flu. And I can say to get the vaccine only because hindsight is 20/20. I procrastinated getting it because I had an appointment with the cardiologist this past Tuesday, and wanted to ask which one I should be getting, if any at all. My Dr. has always said that it was up to my parents and myself if I wanted to get the seasonal flu vaccine. My dad used to make me get it every year, until he passed away in 2000. Every year I would dread going because it seemed like I would always get sick after receiving it. So I haven't received the vaccine in years. And with the H1N1 being a new strain, I of course haven't ever been exposed to it or vaccinated against it. But with it being reported as being pretty serious, I wanted to see what exactly my Dr. thought about it; there are always risks with vaccines (which is why my dogs don't get them!) and this is a vaccine that hasn't ever been given before. I also knew that if the dr. did recommend it, I would probably need his help to find and receive it.

So I put it off. I mean, as of right now, its just 2 weeks into November for crying out loud. The risk wouldn't be that big, would it? Boy was I wrong!

I woke up the Wednesday right before Halloween feeling pretty ill. My body hurt, and I immediately started coughing. As the day went on (it was my scheduled day off) I got worse and worse. I couldn't find a thermometer that hadn't been used on the dogs (you know what that means...) so I couldn't tell if I had a fever; but I had body aches and chills worse than I ever have. I woke up Thursday feeling even worse. It wasn't like the flu I usually got- I didn't have any "head cold" like symptoms; just a nasty cough and feeling lousy. But then I started getting so cold that my fingers were blue. That's right. BLUE. Like "Scary Smurf" blue. That's when I called my GP. They said they didn't like the sound of my breathing (because I really couldn't due to the coughing) so they told me to get my ass over to the ER pronto. I told them (truthfully) that I really was too sick to drive. They told me I should go, but I told them Id have to wait to get a ride.

A few hours later though, I felt OK enough to drive (and I had tried to get warm in the hot-tub to no avail) so I decided to go to a local ER (versus Mass General). I waited for a while until I got triaged, where I found out I had a fever of about 101. I waited a total of 5 hours (masked, might I add) before I finally got a bed and was seen by a dr. They did a rapid flu test and found I was positive. The dr. said that "as it is too early for the seasonal flu, it is H1N1" (which doesn't make sense to me, as the seasonal flu doesn't abide by the calendar...). He wrote me out the prescription for the Tamiflu because I am "borderline" high-risk with my cardiac issues and he didn't want it to develop into pneumonia. He also told me that I would be out of work for 7 days. At that point I got a little upset. Work had changed its "paid time off" policy from paying us out for unused time off at the end of the year, to "use it or lose it"; so I had used it all, and was now looking at taking sick time without pay. I wanted to make sure I could go back to work as soon as I could, and he wrote the note for the parameters set by the CDC-either going back to work 48 hours after the fever breaks (24 to be fever free, and then 24 to make sure the fever doesn't come back) or 7 days (which is what a lot of employers are requiring to make sure it doesn't get spread around).

That night I ate a little (I hadn't eaten since Wednesday morning, but did not really have any desire to) and then took the Tamiflu. I went to bed with the blankets piled on because I was still freezing cold, and tried to get to sleep. I woke up at about midnight soaked in sweat. I also felt so nauseous that I got up and took some pepto. I tried getting back to sleep, but was still hot and sick. Then I found myself sprinting to the bathroom, hoping I would make it. Yeah...I puked until I was dry heaving. It was AWFUL. I haven't been sick like that since I was under 10. I was SSSIIIICCCKKK.....

I did feel better after I had finished, and was able to get back to bed. I didn't have any more vomiting, but it changed course if you know what I mean. That's when I knew that I did have the H1N1 and not just the flu. The gastrointestinal pyrotechnics are kind of a hallmark of the sickness...

So I spent the next few days out of work (Thursday, Friday Saturday-which is my normal day off, and also was Halloween-and Sunday) and went back on Monday. Needless to say I did NOT pass out any candy to trick-or-treators on Halloween! The girls were happy because they didn't have to dress up as hot-dogs this year. They were so good to me; they really do know when I'm sick. They were great when I was going through everything earlier this year, and were even better with me this time around. They both layed and snuggled with me on the couch. Usually its just Shelby that lays on top of me, but Heidi got right up there with her and settled in too. They really were the best medicine; definitely better than the chicken soup and Tamiflu!!

So it really was 5 miserable, awful, crappy days. Not only because I FELT sicker than I have in probably years, but because of the additional nerves of having to miss several days of work and pay. This happened the same week I was given a 2200$ estimate from my mechanic for a 60,000 mile tune up, 4 new tires and 2 sets of new brakes. Yeah, it was fun times... but now I'm feeling much better; a little more broke (as I did end up getting the tires and brakes...apparently they're important...) and I still have a cough, but I'm back to my regular activity.

So I lend this tale to let you know what to look for in terms of symptoms, and hoping that if I can convince someone to get the vaccine (especially any high-risk people reading this), I might save them several days of virus-induced torture.

On another note, I received an email from a dog friend about another disease that's going around. In order to try and protect even more people, I share this info with you now:

Urgent Notice: Potential Danger of Dog Hair......

In a press release today, the National Institute of Health has announced the discovery of a potentially dangerous substance in the hair of dogs. This substance, called "amobacter caninii" has been linked with the following symptoms in females: Reluctance to cook, clean or do housework, a reluctance to wear make-up, good clothes or high heels. Reluctance to spend money on home or car repairs until after 'Baby' has new collars, leashes, beds, treats, food, blankets or toys.

"Amobacter caninii" usually results in long hours away from home and exhaustion which may lead to a loss of physical contact with other humans (especially husbands and boyfriends). "Amobacter caninii" is thought to be addictive, driving the need for additional sources - this may lead to a "pack mentality" or like the potato chip commercial, "you can't have just one". Beware! If you come in contact with a female human infected by this substance, be prepared to talk about dogs for hours.

Surgeon General's Warning: Dogs are expensive, addictive, and may impair the ability to use common sense.

This message is from the CDC-Canine Disease Control

The following picture is the CDC's recommendation for protecting yourself against this life-altering disease. It is a lycra body suit that hopefully curbs the distribution of the dangerous dog hair!

(actually this is a picture of Heidi wearing a body suit from K9topcoat.com. I bought it to keep the dog hair out of the pool when I have them swimming in it during the summer; apparently dog hair in the pool filter is pretty bad...)

The most wonderful time of the year...

2009-11-10T20:10:00.000-08:00

No, not Christmas. Not even vacation. I'm talking about FOOTBALL SEASON! Yes, it is here! (Actually, it started a few weeks ago, but this is the first time I've been able to post about it!) Now, there can be no doubt who the Shelties love and root for...I mean, no doubt with THESE pictures anyways!

That's right. The Shelties are New England Patriots fans! I mean, look at that last picture! You don't MESS with the Shelties on game day...they MEAN BUSINESS!

Now being a football fan of any kind isn't always easy. For me, having to work on Sundays in the ER means I miss all of the 1:00 start games. The 4:00 starts and Monday night ones are usually safe, but a majority are those that may be missed. So my mom and I have started taping them and watching them when I get home from work. No, we don't have a DV-R (yet!) so we're doing it old school with VHS tapes. We struggled in the beginning (just like the Pats) but now we're old pros. Just as the Patriots are playing better (59-0 against the Titans?!?!?!) we're getting over our technological deficiencies.

Game day for the girls is usually pretty good too. They usually get a rousing game of frisbee (unlike the NFL, our games are weather permitting) and the settle down with a good curly bully stick. (Jerseys come off-they must keep their uniforms clean!) This latest addition has helped Shelby get over her "fear of foozeball"; she used to run upstairs and hide when the game came on. At first we thought it was due to my hollering and screaming at the t.v. (look, I'm not THAT bad, I mean...the neighbors have never complained!) but it actually turned out to be the whistles. But now that we give her something to nom on, she seems to be 100% better. She hasn't run out of the room since last season!

So thanks for indulging us and letting us brag about our favorite pass time. We hope that whatever sport you and your Heart-Dogs chose to watch, and which ever team you all support, the important thing is that you enjoy watching them together! Here's hoping your teams does well! (Just not as well as the Pats...;0)

Sheltie Survival!

2009-11-01T06:05:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone...its been a while. A long, LONG while. I suppose some of you thought we were carried away, or eaten alive by the fleas! But no, we've (well, mostly I) have just been really REALLY busy lately. But life, once again, has caused me to slow down; which has also allowed me to take some time for something I really do love-writing!

The flea situation was, after all, blown a little out of proportion. I of course freaked out by finding them, because I had lived through an infestation many many years ago with the first dog I ever owned. I can just remember how costly it was in both time and money to finally eradicate them all. I definitely did not want the problem to get to that point. I wanted to stop the problem naturally before it got out of hand and I was then forced to use some not-so-natural (and down right dangerous) products to free us all of the fleas. So I did my research and came up with an action plan to get rid of them.

The firs part of the plan was to kill any live adults. This was done by first treating the dogs, and their immediate quarantined area (the kitchen). I had already removed their bedding and crates from there and provided them with temporary sleeping arrangements of an old sleeping bag on the floor. I got one of the doctors at work to write them a prescription for "Capstar", and it was given to them that same night by my mom. When I got home several hours later, I only found one dead flea on Heidi. That's when I started realizing that the problem might not be so bad after all. If I was finding them both covered in dead fleas, I may have been a lot more worried about what could be living in the house. Now I wasn't really thrilled about using the Capstar. But again, I did a lot of research online to find any reports of adverse reactions or problems that people have reported using it. I didn't find any. In fact, I found some information stating that some states allow groomers to use and dispense it without a veterinarians input or approval at all. Although it is a pesticide, and although it is given orally and gets straight into the bloodstream, the amount of time it is in the body is very short and it does the job very quickly; usually without the need of a second dose. So, I bit the bullet and gave it to them. Again, it did obviously seem to work, but I did find some vomit on the sleeping bag the next afternoon. It made my stomach clench quite guiltily when I found it; I hadn't used anything else yet to treat the fleas so I assume it was one of their little Sheltie bodies trying to rid themselves of the toxin...luckily they (which ever girl it was) had no more symptoms after that.

The day after the Capstar dose, I brought them up to our friends shop and did a thorough grooming. Here my spirits and hopes were further lifted as while I thoroughly brushed, bathed and blow-dried them, I did not find ONE SINGLE FLEA one either dog, alive or dead. WooHoo!!! And while I was cleaning the dogs at the shop, my mom was helping out and cleaning the house. Like really thoroughly cleaning it. She did everything! Vacuumed, washed the baseboards, washed the hard floors and vacuumed carpets. I, in turn, the following day took everything that was too large to fit into our washer and dryer to the laundromat. I washed the dogs beds, sleeping bag, and the beds for their crates in the car. With everything washed (including the dogs), I felt it was fairly safe to let them back into the rest of the house.

But the plan did not just include cleaning. It also involved treating; treating to make sure that any remaining eggs or adults that may have escaped the cleaning purge would not live much longer after that. And I was still hard pressed to figure out where the girls picked them up in the first place. I mean, we were in the woods, at the beach, around other dogs...I could have even brought them home with me from work! So I also wanted to make sure that if we were to come into contact with them again, that the house would be a very unwelcome place for them to stay. Again, after reading a lot of old issues of "The Whole Dog Journal" and consulting with friends who own shops that cater to people who want to use natural and safe products, I decided on a small biological army. I chose to use "Para-Clear" by Azmira Pet Products- which is food-grade diatomaceous earth (D.E.), "Flea-Busters"-a borax powder, and "Natural Defense" carpet powder and spray-a blend of essential oils that are natural pest-repellents. The D.E. is made up of the crushed fossils of hard-shelled algae. The fine powder allows the shards of the fossils to pierce the exoskeletons of fleas and ticks and kills them. The "Flea-Busters" powder works in a similar way, further drying them out. And the "Natural Defense" powder would hopefully cause any more pests thinking about coming in to rethink that idea.

All of the powders had a similar consistency and texture-like a light floury, confectionery-sugar type feel. This made for very easy application and spreading, but did cause a cloud of fine dust to rise and linger during the spreading process. I decided to mix the powders together for and easier, one time application. I used 2 parts D.E., 2 parts "Flea-Busters" and 1 part "Natural Defense". I put it on all of the freshly washed items like the dogs beds, carpets, floors, baseboards and even in the radiators. I used the brush from the vacuum to really rub it into the fibers and into the cracks and crevices in the floors. I let the powder sit on everything over night, and then vacuumed it up the next day. For a fine powder it came up really well. There was a bit of residue on the hard floors, but I just went over it with a dry Swiffer and it came right up. I only treated everything that one time and still have almost a full jug of both the D.E. and the "Flea-Busters" (which both came in 3lb. tubs). (here's a picture of the powder spread on the kitchen floor-before vacuuming!)

As for the dogs, I upped their garlic intake (as garlic is known as a natural pesticide; it is thought to make the blood distasteful to the parasites) and had planned on using the "Natural Defense" spray on them too. However, this spray is very VERY oily. Even if you use just a spritz, it will easily bog down your pets coat with a greasy residue. It probably goes on better if diluted with water, but I don't know if it is as effective. The nice part is, is that (in my opinion anyways) the oils smell LOVELY. I really do love the smell of this spray! (The powder smells the same, so it was nice to have the house smelling like the oils!) But before I tried to use a diluted form of the spray, I found "Flea-Free"; also a spray made up of essential oils. I liked this ones scent too (its a little less powerful and strong) and it seemed like a much lighter spray. So I bought and used this. It seemed to work really well; I mean...I didn't find any fleas or ticks! Then I noticed the label...yeah, it definitely has CATS on it. Ooops...oh well. The Shelties are quite secure in their canine-ness, and are OK with using a cat-spray as long as it keeps them flea-free!

So that's our story up until this point. I haven't seen ANY more fleas, and we've just about passed the "danger mark". Apparently dormant eggs can hatch for another 3-6 weeks after treating, and we've just passed the 6 week mark so I think we're OK. And a bonus is that most of these products also work on ticks! Indeed, as I checked the dry Swiffer pad last week, I found a dead adult (not engorged) tick on the bottom. There is no reason for it to be dead, I mean...we all know how hard they are to kill. Even if I had trodden on it while swiffering, it wouldn't have died. I could only attribute it to being exposed to the powders still lying on the floor. I even decided to test the powders myself by putting a crawling tick that I found on Shelby in a small gladware container with some of the mixture. It was dead withing a half hour. I got the same results when I tried with two more ticks. I now use the D.E. powder whenever we go out for walks-I keep it in a baby-powder container, and shake it into their coats before we go out walking. It works WONDERS!

Now I know that everyone has their own opinions and ideas about whats best for their own furkids. Parenting of any form can be fraught with tough decisions and many words of advice (asked or unasked for), but it really is up to each one of us to make those tough choices in the best interest of OUR kids. No one can tell you that this one way is the best or only way to handle something. I can't say that using my plan will help a flea problem that you might be having. I can just say what worked for me; what worked for me, and what I felt COMFORTABLE doing. Sure, I could have used harsh flea dips, bombs, collars and topical pesticides, such as Frontline. But I don't think that those types of products are in the best interests of my girls. I'm not saying that you shouldn't use them. That's why this is America. You can do whatever you want. But just as we have the freedom of choice, and the ability to make our own decisions, we also have the responsibility to make informed ones. Please do you thorough research before using ANY type of product on your furbaby. Don't just take your vet's advice. There are many MANY stories out there, all over message boards and email lists about peoples furkids being seriously injured or even killed using topical pesticides. Do your own research, get second or third opinions. Even though more information can make your decision more difficult, in the long run you'll always feel more comfortable with it.

So that's our flea tale. I know, its not enough of a circus to have kept us away from the blog for 6 weeks, but there have been lots of other things happening in that time...most of them a lot more fun than fleas! I hope to be able to post about those soon! Thanks for reading, and I promise with wont be another 6 week wait for another Sheltie Story!

A Circus...

2009-09-13T23:03:00.000-07:00

I can't believe how long its been since I've posted anything! I'm glad to say that nothing serious has been going on; I mean, my health has been good...so good in fact, that that's why I haven't posted. I've been so busy picking up extra shifts at work and trying to enjoy the beautiful weather that is finally here! After a very cool and rainy June and July, and a hot and humid beginning and middle of August, the weather seems to have calmed down. It's been nothing but cool, sunny, beautiful days for the past two weeks. And best of all, the vacation I had planned happened right at the start of the gorgeous weather!

I decided to go camping for 4 days up north (New Hampshire). We had a fantastic time! We did all of our usual stuff: hiking, riding the Conway Scenic Railroad, kayaking and just relaxing. We really did have a great time! I did discover, though, that my camping experience is becoming a little more of a...hassle?...now that I'm the one doing all of the packing and setting up by myself. After setting up, and then deconstructing camp I started thinking how nice it would be to not have to tent it. I feel like such a weenie! I have always loved sleeping in the tent! Hearing the sounds of nature through the thin walls, waking up in the cool-ness of the morning, cooking on the grill outside...but this time around, all of those things took away from the experience, rather than enhancing it. I usually always stay at the same campground; they have grassy (and somewhat close-set) sites along the river. But this time I wanted a different experience, so I chose a BEAUTIFUL campground with wooded sites, also along a river. I drove up at the start of the summer to check it out and choose a site. I thought it would be perfect; the next site seemed far enough away, and with the sound of the flowing water, I figured I wouldn't have to worry about neighbors at all. I was very wrong! Two guys were camped in the next site over and enjoyed long conversations well into the dead of night. I could hear every word...I mean, it was like they were actually standing right outside the walls. Luckily, the dogs were so tired that they didn't bark; I didn't want to get complained about or kicked out!

The last night I stayed, I thought I had finally lucked out. The night started off pretty well, when we were driving over the Kancamagus highway (one of America's "Scenic Byways") and saw a moose! Right there, on the side of the road! Just eating amidst all kinds of flashes from cameras and people (including me) gawking at it. Some guy remarked it was like Paris Hilton spotted at a restaurant =0) Anyways, I was then glad to see that the "chatty Charlies" next door had gone, and the people who had taken over their site had already gone to bed by the time I got back to the site. (We had taken the "sunset" train in North Conway, and then had almost an hour drive back to the site, so it was dark when we got back). But just when I had started my fire, and settled in next to it, I heard SCREAMING (not blood-curdling "I'm being murdered" screaming, but loud, drunken WHOOPING). A few minutes later, one of the campground owners rolled by on his golf-cart to the site to quiet them down (as it was well after 10). Then, when I thought for a second time that I would be able to enjoy my night, they (the people who had been screaming) started playing BONGO DRUMS. Who the hell brings bongo drums camping?!?!? These people, obviously. Again, the guy on the golf cart rolled by, and they quieted, finally. But by that time my fire was all but out and it was bed time.

We got back home thoroughly exhausted, as not only did the night time shenanigans prevent us from going to sleep at a reasonable hour, but the coldness had kept me awake (not because I was cold myself, but because I kept waking up to check on the girls!) I also had a LOT of problems with the food I packed for us all. I had carefully packed most of our perishables in glad-ware and put it in the cooler. I don't think ANYTHING stayed dry. I actually poured water out of the bowl that I was keeping the girls raw meat in =0( I was pretty miserable at some points of the trip. My lowest point was when my pop-top liquid container full of Gatorade for my lunch exploded in my lunch bag, and ruined my camera. It is working, but is acting a little shorted; it keeps turning itself off and on, so I can't keep batteries in it when I am not using it. Dammit!!

So, I've been thinking about maybe buying a pop-up camper for future trips. It's just a thought, as I of course will have to do quite a bit of research and saving.

Now, I know that you may be thinking (after several paragraphs of complaining) that the camping trip is what I mean by the "circus" mentioned in the title. I wish. The circus that I am referring to is one that no one EVER wants to attend. A FLEA CIRCUS!

I was snuggling with the girls on Thursday morning, when I noticed some gritty stuff in Shelby's coat. Now, I wasn't that surprised, because I've been feeling a similar feeling for weeks; we had gone to the beach several times, and they had played on the very coarse, large-grained sand of the river beach when we went kayaking. I just thought that's what it was. But she started licking the air; like I was scratching an extremely itchy spot. I started to part her hair to see what was so irritating to her skin, when I noticed small black particles. My heart jumped into my throat. "This looks like flea dirt", I thought. But it couldn't be. The last and only time I had ever lives with dogs with fleas was almost 20 years ago, with the first dog I ever had. And these were my girls: my raw-fed Shelties! Where the hell would they have picked up fleas!?!

I started going through her whole body, parting her hair and frantically searching. Although it has been almost 20 years, I still remember what they looked like. I didn't find anything. Then I checked Heidi. I didn't find anything on her either. Just when I told them all was OK, and decided that the black specks had to be something else, I saw it. A flea on Shelby's FACE. I grabbed it, and squished it. I then started to check them both again, and found two more on Shelby, and one on Heidi. I immediately quarantined them to the kitchen (where there is no carpet), and checked them throughout the morning before I went to work. I found two more on Heidi and 4 more on Shelby. I spent any "flea free" moments on the internet looking for all natural alternatives to get rid of them. I found quite a few helpful suggestions. I'll go over those, and our plan in the next post.

As of right now, though, the dogs are still in the kitchen. I have set up the bathroom as "decontamination central": anything that can be washed, is; anything that can't be, has either been moved out to the garage (like the dogs memory foam beds and floor rug in the living room), or is awaiting treatment. I did groom the girls Friday, bathing them first in a natural flea deterrent shampoo, and then re-bathing them in their regular shampoo and conditioner. They are still in the kitchen, though, because I don't want whatever eggs or larvae or whatever that may be living in the untreated areas (my bedroom carpet, the couch/chair etc) to get back on them.

Some unexpected consequences have come about from this whole situation. First, I am horrified, and embarrassed. I'm not worried about the fleas for myself or the girls because I know it would take an infestation of an extreme magnitude to induce anemia; and they are on year round Interceptor, so I'm not worried about them catching something. I do, however, worry about the stigma attached to having pets with fleas. I always thought these parasite-ridden pets must live in filthy conditions, or have owners who didn't care enough to pay attention to them. And people look at YOU like YOU might be carrying them around with YOU; maybe in your own hair or clothes. Although it was said jokingly, I actually had a friend not want to hug me in welcome last night, because my dogs had fleas!

Secondly, both the dogs and I are extremely unhappy with the whole "quarantine" situation. They are unhappy because they are spending a lot of time alone in a room where no one "hangs out", and they have lost some of their creature comforts: like eating from a raised dish ("you want me to eat of the floor?!?!" says Heidi), and missing their side-by-side, yet private, individual crates. (They are now sharing a large bolster bed on top of my mom sleeping bag). And we are ALL missing being together. I've noticed a huge change in my own attitude since I haven't had the dogs close by to touch, kiss, snuggle with, or talk to. Although they are only a room away, when I am in my bedroom, sleeping alone in my bed, I might as well be back in the hospital. It is an awful feeling, being without them (especially where they really are so close!), and it in turn has made me more irritable, and less happy and positive.

(The girls having to eat off the floor...notice where Shelby's dish on the right starts out...)

(and notice where it is now! One downfall of eating on the floor: your food tries to get away!)

We are all trying to get through this tough time; in going what I have gone through this past year, I am trying to keep this all in perspective. We are all still healthy, and we can still interact anytime we want to. It's just one more hurdle that we will have to, and eventually will, get over. Hopefully it will be sooner rather than later. I take it as an extremely good sign that I did not find ANY fleas on either of the girls when I groomed them: none during brushing, bathing or blow-drying. Not a single one! I also haven't found any in my home-made flea trap. I'm hoping that they just picked up a few adults, and that none are lingering secretly in the carpet or upholstery. We're keeping our fingers (and paws!) crossed! I don't think we can take much more of this Sheltie-segregation!!

Summer Reading

2009-07-23T15:53:00.000-07:00

Do you remember those long lists of books that teachers handed out to you and your classmates at the end of every year? Just when you thought that the school year was over, and you could give your brain some much needed slacking off time, those darned teachers would hand out those lists of epic proportions deemed "Summer Reading". And the lists would come with both bribes and punishments; the more books you read from the list the better. You would get into different "levels" of difficulty, and sometimes you would even get to chose a book that was NOT from the list. But whether you chose a book off the list or chose it to exercise your freedom of expression, you would always have to do a REPORT on it. And the report seemed to just be an excuse for the teachers to make you PROVE that you actually READ the book, and did not just buy the "Cliff's Notes", ask a friend for a summary, or to make sure you just didn't see the movie!

These reports usually followed the same format: they asked questions about the main characters, secondary characters, plot summary and your interpretations of certain themes (i.e. "do you think that this book helped or hindered the women's liberation movement?") etc. The report was to be typed or be written in CLEAR hand writing. Jeeze, the teachers didn't want too much from us on our Summer break, now did they!?!

But far from complaining, I actually bring this up because this has been a lesson that has stuck with me throughout the years. I have always been a big reader; no doubt owing to my lacking social skills and the desire to seek out the quieter things in life. Reading for me, much like writing for me, comes in spurts. There are some times where I just want to get home at the end of the day, do my nightly rituals, blank out in front of the t.v. and then hit the sack. But other times, my appetite for reading is so voracious that I cant seem to have a book in my possession that I will not be tempted to read. Indeed, any books that find themselves waiting idly to be read, soon finde themslves unable to be put down until the final word is read and absorbed.

I find myself in one of these manic reading states now. I planned on buying some used books off of my VERY extensive wish-list on Amazon. Realizing that I would once again be in the hospital for another procedure, and then need some time to rest and recuperate seemed like a good time to get some more titles under my belt. The books would at least keep me from sitting in a mind-numbed state in front of the t.v. for the entire time! And who knows, I might even learn something and enjoy the story that was to unfold.

My taste in books is pretty simple. There are two main categories: Harry Potter and Dogs. Now, the Harry Potter Category is quite simple. I read, and re-read...and RE-READ (12 times) the books in the series of 7. I usually have to be in the mood for a certain book, and so sometimes go out of chronological order. I'll sometimes read one of the books right before the next movie comes out (as I'm planning on doing now!) to make sure that all of the literary details are fresh in my mind when I see them played out (and sometimes edited out) on the big screen. The dog category gets a little more involved. I am, and have always been, fascinated by the human-canine bond. I tend to pick up any title that even suggests that that is what the book is about. My favorite thus far has to be "Pack of Two" by Caroline Knapp (which I have referenced from heavily in other posts), "Bones Would Rain from the Sky" by Suzanne Clothier, and I L-O-V-E Patricia McConnell's books. And due to my love of reading all things about the canine bond, I love reading personal memoirs of people and the special relationships that they have with their special pets. I'll read anything including blended story books (like the "Chicken Soup" books), stories about agility dogs, service dogs, therapy dogs and just pet dogs. I know that none of this will come as a surprise to anyone who reads THIS blog regularly, as these kinds of stories are what I also like to write about. I try to get across that no dog is un-special or "regular". Every single dog that is loved and loves someone deserves to have their story told. I know that no one will ever love your dog as much as you do, but hopefully by telling your dogs story you can get others to fall even more in love with their own dogs.

So, on to the reading list! There are three books that I would like to mention in this post. Again, I don't pretend to know your taste in reading, but I hope if you are reading this blog, that these stories just might interest you too.

The first is "Where the Trail Grows Faint: A year in the life of a Therapy Dog Team" by Lynne Hugo. This book was something of a surprise. I expected the book to be about the authors journey into therapy dog work, complete with how the dog came to be, training and stories of visits once the time came to make them. I did find all of that, but this book brought out so much more. This book really brings to light the various things that people are forced to give up when they enter a nursing home or hospitalized situation. It really, REALLY hit home to me. The issues were not the blatantly obvious ones such as becoming physically less capable of taking care of ones needs, but it brought into sharp relief what it felt like to LOSE every one of those needs including ones independence, autonomy, and the right to space and privacy. I thought I had a lengthy twelve days in the hospital at the beginning of this year, but after reading this book I realize how truly lucky and fortunate I am to have been able to get healthy enough to get out. Although tough times still take their toll on me, TRULY after reading THIS BOOK, I have had my mind changed about complaining about and sweating the small stuff. I know that I have pledged both here on this blog, and aloud to friends and family that I am a changed person who will no longer let time and life pass me by, but THIS BOOK has helped solidify those promises. It has helped me see that truly, if I am to end up in a state like some of the patients, I have to live my life, and live it now...to the fullest. Without letting a single opportunity to enjoy it pass me by. Don't get me wrong; the issues brought up by this book are not brought up in an overly sad and dramatic way. They are brought into the light with skill and intelligence; they are not brought into the story to bring in feelings of depression and sadness, but in ways to make you outraged, and determined to look at your life and lives of others differently. By the time I had finished this book, I have already visited the Delta Society web page, and found out when the next prep-class and test will be held. I am determined to not only take the lessons shared here in this book to heart to change my OWN life, but to hopefully help people who are already in this situation as well. I will never again take for granted the feel of the sun on my face or the wind through my hair; or let the sights of the sun illuminating the high-lights in Shelby's fur, or the wind delicately playing with Heidi's mane. This book is a FANTASTIC read for anyone practicing or interested in therapy dog work. It is also great for anyone with aging relatives, or who want a clear, unbiased insight on what it is to live in one of these long-term facilities. Again, I want to emphasize that there is nothing indecent in this book; it is not filled of stories of having to clean up after incontinent patients. It is the honest, un-blinded view of what it costs to have to give up who you are when you are unable to physically be that person any longer. Although the authors therapy dog is obviously mentioned and does play a large part in the book, it is definitely a story that I would have read and enjoyed even if there WAS no dog. It was that much of a lesson teacher and eye opener for me.

The second book I read is one a bit more on the scientific side. It is a book called: "Between Pets and People: The Importance of Animal Companionship" by Alen Beck et al. This is a great read for the obvious reason that the book is about exploring the amazing bond that people have with their pets. As I said, it is quite a bit more scientific minded with many medical studies mentioned and cited, but it also does have quite a bit of interesting information regarding how pets keep us healthy through all kinds of medical maladies including heart disease and mental illness. Lets put it this way; if I was going to write a book about the special bond that humans have with their animals THIS is the book that I would want attached to my name. It is something that a layman like myself could NEVER pull off, but thankfully someone did because it really is a wonderful book. Some parts of the book get a little dicey (in terms of dealing with issues of pets and sexuality-I'll let you form your own opinions about this topic), and I didn't actually read the last chapeter because it talked about how the animalhuman bond can make you a better parent (no doubt useful for people into that stuff; you know HUMAN children) but over all the book gives wonderful insight on just how important pets really are to our health and well being. Put it this way, if Dr. Marty Becker's book "Thee Healing Power of Pets" had a second edition, more scientifically written, this book would be it. It goes beyond the holistic view of Dr. Becker's book, and is able to cite some really wonderful medical studies. Again, if your interested in the animal/canine-human bond, this book is definitely one of the top ones I'd recommend.

The third, and perhaps my FAVORITE of all the books Ive read, has to be "Dogged Pursuit" by Robert Rodi. What an (for lack of a better word) AWESOME book! The brief synopsis of the book regards it as a mixture of "Marley and Me" and "Dog Show" (the movie). This is SPOT ON! (Without the death of the beloved main dog at the end.) I found myself laughing out loud so often at this book, that I worried what my hospital roommate must think of me! I had actually stumbled upon it by accident, which in my mind, makes the book even better-I'm a big fan of serendipity! I had just placed my somewhat large order with Amazon the day before and started getting confirmation emails that my books were to be shipped (as I bought all of them used, they were all coming from different places). I realized that I probably would not get a single one of the books by the time I was to be admitted into the hospital for my procedure. So much for my brilliant idea of being able to read while recuperating! So I went to Barnes and Noble the night before to see if any of the titles on my still VERY lengthy wish-list were available for a quick sale. I was scanning the shelves to no avail when I came upon the bright blue book with a LEAPING SHELTIE on the cover. My eyes highlighted on the word "Agility" and I KNEW I was leaving with this book. I had to practically bind my own hands to prevent myself from reading it before I really needed to. I ended up packing it in my over night bag straight away to eliminate any and all temptation. I ended up reading some of the book the night after the procedure and finishing the rest of it the next day, after being sent home from the hospital.

This book is just...so good. I have not yet read Susan Garrets book "Shaping Success" about training and competing with her border collie, but I expect that this book is much different. It really is truly hilarious! This is my favorite line from the book; the author is trying to highlight the differences with his current, female Sheltie, Carmen, with his newly acquired rescue, Dusty (the main character): "With a treat in my hand, I could get Carmen to do anything. Any-thing. She'd go up and down an A-frame a dozen times in a row. She'd teeter till she tottered. She'd do back flips. She'd dial up a restaurant and book a table. In French." I laughed so hard at this line, because this is true of my two Shelties too! So many things in this book I could relate to: from the crazy jitters you feel at a competition for the first time, to the obvious Sheltie-like behaviors, to the digestive pyrotechnics that reared up at such in-opportune moments. One of the best things I liked about the book was not only the authors humor (that is so much in line with my own) but of his social awkwardness as well. I too have found myself high and dry at a trial or seminar; trying to blend in with the few people I am acquainted with, but really writhing and dying of fear and insecurity inside. This book is a wonderful read for anyone with Shelties, rescue dogs, and any one who has a passion for agility and other dog sports. I cannot, AGAIN, recommend this book enough. It seems like a short read, but there are so many laugh-out-loud moments, that it actually takes you longer to get through then it should; your too busy wiping away the tears of laughter!

So, this concludes this session of my book reports for summer reading. I hope you have enjoyed my not-so-brief accounts of some of my new favorite books, and I urge you (just like your teachers of yesterday) to go to the book store or library and pick up one of these, or another title that sparks your interest. With so many negative things going on in the world, and being broadcast into our living rooms every night, its nice to escape to another world, or someone else's life for a little while. And if you can find a comfortable place to curl up with that book, it just seems to make everything fall into place.

Here are a few pictures of my favorite reading (and writing) place...I actually just typed this post right here:

Venting Session

2009-07-16T07:46:00.000-07:00

OK, this is definitely not the post that I was planning on putting up. But something happened today that has made me SO angry, if I don't get it out I'm probably going to be in a VERY bad mood for the rest of the day.

So, I'm trying to get us all out and about more to practice on some skills that have gotten a little rusty (heel, stay, leave-it etc.) and to get us all a bit more exercise as we can all stand to be a bit trimmer (which I'll chat more about in the next post). Now walking has become a bit of a challenge; gone are the days of walking in the woods or open fields due to the arrival of the dog-days of summer. Those quiet, pristine places are not off limits due to the awful amount of ticks my girls bring back with them. So we've been confined to pavement walking: hitting the local parks and sidewalks instead. And these places are neither quiet OR pristine. Not only are we dealing with a lot more in terms of distractions (litter on the ground, people going by with skateboards, bikes, strollers etc.) but we're also having to deal with the sheer NUMBER of people with and without these additional things.

Now, don't get me wrong. My girls are BOMB-PROOF; they have seen, experienced and dealt with all of these things before. They ignore just about all of them;they are not reactive in any way. They just let them pass right along by. BUT they are having to relearn what it means to "get in close" as we are now on a narrow paved path with these things and they need to learn to be polite and move aside so there can be room for us all.

If it was just these things then our walks would still be fine. I mean if anything, they would enhance our training sessions and make us all stay on our toes. But there is one BIG, HUGE incredibly ANNOYING consequence that we are also having to deal with: CHILDREN. Lots of them.

I cannot STAND children. I have always been like this. I can't stand anything about them: the way that they are always sticky, they smell, they don't know how to behave and most don't listen. Now don't get me wrong; as long as they are not affecting me in a negative way, we can coexist without a problem. But am I going to knowingly seek out their company or want to "hang out" with them? Absolutely not. I always joke that I was born with a "defective mothering gene"-I only feel those warm, maternal feelings towards small furry beings. The sounds of babies (crying, etc) to me is like nails on a chalk board. But a puppy whining or even barking immediately sets my brain into nurture mode. I can easily turn a deaf ear to barking and just tune it out (I do live with Shelties you know!) but the sounds of screaming children makes me want to pound my head into a brick wall.

Again, its not like I go around wishing harm on all of the children in the world. I don't stand up and cheer when I hear an awful story on the news about something tragic happening to someones kid; I feel bad just like everyone else. But I really am getting sick and tired of dealing with stupid parents who let their obnoxious children run amok.

I took the girls out to the park for a quick early morning walk before breakfast. The walk takes place at a park where there is a big paved path forming two connecting squares around some ball fields and a play ground. It is a pretty popular park for walkers, and parents: both of dogs and kids. There are at least 5 poop pick up stations around the park, lining the paths. Clearly the rec. department knows how popular the park is for dog owners and want to ensure that we take care of it so we continue to be welcomed. (Its funny that you'd be hard pressed to find even one small piece of dog poo, but there are candy and ice-cream wrappers littering the ground around the play ground...but I digress...) So I take the girls for a walk, having their leashes, treats and poop bags stored in my pocket. The paths themselves are pretty quite, but there are already some families on the play ground. No problem; we'll just steer clear of it.

As we're about 1/3 of the way around for our first pass, it starts to rain. So I hustle the girls up (as none of us wants to end up soaked) and we start to head back to the car. When we get there, the rain is letting up a bit, so I ask the girls if they want to play ball (we never go anywhere without their Chuck-It!) so I grab it and we make our way back to the field. As we're walking back, this little girl RUNS off the play ground and starts chasing my girls. Well, they want to play ball and 4 legs are always faster than 2, so they out run her. We make our way to the field and I huck the ball. The girl is still running after them trying to pet them. Now, NORMALLY if the girls father (who is half-heartedly following this annoying child trying to marshal her) had ASKED can she pet them, I wouldn't have had a problem. But he was just LETTING her chase them, so I kept throwing the ball in the OPPOSITE direction; keen to SHOW HIM that NO, I did NOT want his little girl getting near my dogs. Apparently he never got the hint.

So finally after a few minutes of ball throwing, they were sufficiently tired (and wet!) enough for us to go home. Heidi, being normally a little slower than Shelby (and now being really tired) was making her way slowly toward me when the little girl started chasing her again. I FIRMLY said "DON'T CHASE HER!" when the little girl caught up to her, WRAPPED her arms around her waist and then FELL ON TOP OF HER. I YELLED. I mean really YELLED "CAREFUL!!!" and went over and picked Heidi up. I was so INCENSED with anger, I couldn't even get the words out that I wanted to scream at this father who was muttering a feeble"sorry". I wanted to SCREAM at him "look buddy, if I don't let my dogs run up to your kid, what makes you think that you can let your KID run up to MY DOGS? If she had bitten or snapped at your daughter it would have been MY DOG that would be put to death. A bit UNFAIR, don't you think?!?!?"

I STORMED off and carried Heidi all the way back to the car where I gave her lots of good snacks and told her what a wonderful and brave dog she was. (And of course I told Shelby the same and gave her snacks too).

I CAN NOT believe the ignorance of some people. I mean, HONESTLY?!?! What makes it OK that your kids can accost mine? What if my dogs were NOT friendly and Heidi HAD bitten her? I mean, this is RIDICULOUS. As far as I am concerned, if a little kid puts themselves in situations like that (and the parents ALLOW IT) if they get bitten, they DESERVE IT. Maybe then they will learn the lesson to ASK before petting strange dogs. And if you don't like that way of thinking, think about a dog as if it were a hot stove. Would you just let your child run up to a stove and put its hand on it? Or would you check first and make sure it wasn't hot? Or better yet, keep them away from the stove at all?

And if your a parent, put yourself in my shoes. What if you were at the park, and some huge, off-leash dog came RUNNING on to the play ground? Would you just ASSUME that the dog was friendly and willing to put your child's safety at risk to test the dog and see? Even if the dogs tail was wagging, would you take the chance? Wouldn't you be screaming at the ignorant dog owner to get her pet under control and away from your kids??

So let me just say this: I am now going to be taking a MUCH more active role in leader and protector of my dogs. I've already stepped up my safety arsenal of preventing dog attacks by carrying a whistle, air-horn and direct stop. You bet your ass that I'm going to start protecting them from rogue children now too. No, I probably can't MACE the kids who come running up, but be sure that I am going to now start employing body-blocks and using a loud commanding voice to tell kids to "BACK OFF" and deter them from charging the girls. And short of shaving them and painting them black and tan (to have them look like mini-rottweilers), I'm going to also be wearing this to the park:

Hooded Sweatshirt - CafePress

Shared via AddThis

If this doesn't deter stupid people and obnoxious children, I don't know what will. I'm sure that this is probably going to anger some people, and may even change peoples opinions about me. But look, all I am looking for is the same thing that anyone else is: respect. Respect for my feelings, respect for my space, and respect for my dogs. If I can give it to you, and ensure that my dogs do as well, cant you give it back? I mean, a little common sense and common courtesy goes a long way...

Does anyone have the number for Animal Control?

2009-07-09T14:15:00.000-07:00

No, not for my dogs...or even for my neighbors' dogs. I need the number for the VERY LARGE foot prints left in my yard!:
My mom was out cutting the grass (or doing other various yard-tending duties that I generally leave to her) and found a big pile of poo. I looked at it and very quickly figured out that no, it did NOT belong to either one of the little Shelties; or to any of the cats or bunnies that roam freely through the neighborhood either. Lets put it this way, this poo-pile was easily the size of one of my girls' HEADS. Yes, the pile was that big. (You'll have to take my word for it, as no, I did not get any of the pictures of the pile of poo.) The other observation (other than me thinking/saying out loud: "HOLY CANOLI THAT IS A BIG PILE OF POO!) was that it was FULL of seeds. Like, seed from a neighbors bird feeder seeds. So, as I am not a wild-life expert, I did not know what had left this mass of mess. Maybe it was a deer? They eat seeds right?

Well, maybe that is plausible, but then the next bit of evidence quickly put that theory to rest. As I was walking away from the seeded deposit, I saw oddly shaped impressions in the soft ground at my feet. My mom had tilled this patch of yard a few weeks prior, and it had not filled in with grass yet. So these new impressions were pretty clear. And they were clearly TRACKS. BIG ONES. Houston, we have a problem. We have a BEAR.

Now, I cant be sure that yes, it is a bear leaving tracks. Again I am no wildlife expert. But I don't think mountain lions (which are not common in this part of the country) or lynx/bobcats eat seeds. Especially not in those amounts. I showed my mom the tracks, and then quickly got the camera. I tried to take pictures of my hand with the tracks and then with Heidi sitting near them for something to visually compare them to, but I'm afraid the pictures aren't that clear. But if you look at the different colored patches of earth, even if you aren't able to make out the shapes, you can see how LARGE they are.

Now were pretty accustomed to wildlife in the yard; although we are the last house on a dead-end street, the end of the street borders a marsh. We frequently get visitors from the wetlands that make their way casually onto our bit of land. We've had turtles (both box and snapping), rabbits (lots and LOTS or rabbits), cats, probably deer and frogs. Frogs of death and doom. I say this not because the frogs are in fact dangerous, but because they SOUND SO. The first spring that were were in the house the frogs made a very conspicuous appearance. They are gray tree frogs, and make a VERY odd noise; a noise that sounds like the sharp trill of a raccoon. My mom was preparing to clean out our empty hot-tub when she heard the noise-she really did think that there was a raccoon trapped beneath the cover. After some very careful maneuvering, she opened the cover (preparing for something large, black-masked and furry to jump out!) and found herself face to face with the real culprit:

Terrifying, isn't it? But a much more welcome sight than this:

Anyways, most of the critters entering our yard have been fairly harmless; I mean the snapping turtle that out-weighed both dogs put together was a little less than friendly, but I've been able to keep the girls away from and prevent them from tangling with the more "dodgy" sort.

But now Ive got to really keep on my toes; especially when letting the girls out for their night-time potty breaks. I'm assuming that "Yogi" (as we've taken to calling our big black furry friend) shows up really late, like in the dead-of-night late, which makes me thankful that we do not have that many emergency "I need to go out NOW" potty trips. And if they do arise, I turn on the light FIRST before opening the door (lets hope Yogi is photo-phobic) and make noise before letting the equally noisy girls out to do their business. I know this is much to my sleeping neighbors chagrin, but...I've got to keep my twenty pound, fluffy mini-rottweilers safe, right? One whiff of the "intruder" in her yard, and Shelby is going to go N-U-T-S. Heidi will just tag along for the ride and bark-fest, but Shelby will be out for blood. Bear blood. And although I'd be willing to bet my own life on her amazing recall, Id prefer not to have to test it and bet HER life on it at 2 am some stormy night. I'd rather be safe than sorry. One more lesson down. Thanks girls...

Birthday cake, ice-ream and lessons

2009-07-03T12:53:00.000-07:00

I'm posting today to wish my very special girl, Heidi, a Happy belated Birthday! Unfortunately for all of us, this years birthday did not exactly go to plan (which is also why this is being written late!) Hmmm...odd how neither of the girls birthdays went smoothly...

Anyways, I got sent home from work (and sent straight to the doctors) on Monday because of SEVERE dizziness and nausea. I had a procedure last week to try and relieve some of the excessive bleeding I have been dealing with off and on since being put on coumadin and plavix. Although the procedure went well, I did take out a few days of work afterwards to let my body heal. And it was a good thing I did. I had a rough time waking up from the anesthesia, and then dealt with very bad nausea (which I NEVER have a problem with) and pulled muscles in my neck and shoulders from thrashing. Mondays episode, although seemingly unrelated to the procedure or anything else going on with my health, was pretty scary. It was as if someone had put the world on "spin cycle"; it was like being on a very bad amusement park ride that I desperately wanted to get off. I wasn't able to focus, was having a hard time breathing and could hardly walk. I was driven to my moms work, where she drove me to the doctors.

They did a few tests and figure that I have Vestibular Neuritis, which is an infection (viral) on your vestibular nerve. I was put on prednisone and sent to see a neurologist just to be on the safe side. I've been out of work since. Hopefully, I should be able to go back on Monday. I am feeling better for the first time today, which is why I am able to sit and type on the computer (and which is why I didn't wish Heidi a Happy Birthday blog sooner!) I've been struggling to just get around my house; staring at a computer screen (and especially scrolling up and down!) made me feel, if possible, worse.

But enough about me and my stupid symptoms (I'm sick of dealing with them, never mind thinking about them more!) and on to my special girls day! We technically celebrated today, as Wednesday I was too sick to even bend over and play with her and her sister.

Now, usually we will be in the White Mountains hiking and camping at this time. I can't remember which year we started going camping for her birthday, but it has developed into a tradition that has been a fun one to follow. Even if we were not camping per se, I would drive up there for the day and let the girls run in the woods and splash in the rivers. It was a great mini-vacation day for all of us; being up there seems to recharge our souls.

But, for obvious reasons, this year I wasn't even driving down the street to the park, never mind making the two hour trek to the mountains. I of course felt guilty and sad that I couldn't let the girls enjoy our time honored tradition, but at the same time I knew that they weren't thinking about the day the same way I was. Although I know they would have fully enjoyed our outdoor excursions, they do not celebrate "special occasions" the same way we people do. Celebrating the day of ones birth is a very human thing to do; our dogs will never hold grudges or be angry with us if we forget or are unable to celebrate these special days in the ways that we want to. As I've said before, they're not going to go to school or work the next day grumbling under their breath about how we forgot their birthday, or got them an unsatisfactory gift. As a very good (and wise!) friend pointed out to me (as I was lamenting not being able to go to the mountains for the day), Heidi was probably just happy to have me home for the day; able to snuggle up to me when she wanted and able to hear my voice.

Thinking about that now, I realize how stupid I was being. I was sulking not only because missing a favorite tradition was hard to bear, but also because not being able to do anything AT ALL that day, again because of my health, was a low-blow. But now, a few days later, I am feeling better. Not only physically, but also better about finally being able to share in the celebration of the birth of my very special girl.

So today I got outside for the first time in over a week with the girls. It has been raining here in New England for what feels like AN ETERNITY. So when the precipitation let up today, and the sun decided to make an all but brief appearance, I decided today was a good day to break out some goodies for Heidi's special day. So, what do Shelties consider goodies? Cake and ice-cream! Which is possibly even more important and special to a Sheltie than a long walk in the woods...they do like their food after all!!

My mom got her hair cut on Wednesday afternoon, and so was able to buy some birthday cupcakes from the doggie bakery, "The Barkery". Yes, these are the same cupcakes that caused so many problems on Shelby's birthday in February. BUT, I think that if I chop them up and feed them in pieces (rather than letting the girls go in for a free-for-all!) they should be OK. They just finished their ice-creams outside, and will probably have a 1/2 cupcake each later tonight.

And make no mistake, Heidi got plenty of snuggles, cuddles, pats, and kisses on her real birthday, which was Wednesday. I apologized to her that were didn't go hiking, but I did promise that when we go on a real vacation in August that we would do all of her (and Shelby's) favorite things. I actually spent most of the day today making lists of what attractions were dog-friendly, and what they might like to do (and what I would be able to do!) I think it will be a really nice, relaxing vacation, and of course even if something happens and things DON'T work out the way we wish, I think the lessons of being thankful are finally sinking in: "Don't sweat the small stuff", "don't cry over spilt milk", and "when life hands your lemons, make lemonade". All little anecdotes that we learned at a very young age, but lessons that are important enough for us to remember all throughout our lives. And once again, small lessons Ive been reminded and retaught thanks to my VERY special Heart-Dogs!

Here are some pictures from today with the cake and ice-cream. It doesn't look like they're enjoying it too much, does it?

Truth or Scare

2009-06-24T14:12:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a dream so vivid and realistic, that when you woke up you were convinced it was real? I have a lot (and I mean A LOT!) of dreams like that. And usually they are about random things, like being in love with someone I barely knew from high-school, or being angry with my mom over something stupid. Indeed, they are so real that I often spend the next day contemplating what they meant and if they truly have any significance. And then dwelling on their content usually ensures a repeat dream that following night. It becomes a very hard pattern to break.

Usually, though, these dreams are obviously harmless enough. They usually just inspire hours of day dreaming and contemplation. But sometimes, the dreams aren't dreams. Sometimes these all to real nightly visions are bad; they are the nightmares.

For a lot of people, nightmares involve you in a scary situation; sometimes accompanied by the ones you love (which makes the nightmares all the more scary!) A lot of people report nightmares of being chased by someone, or being in a situation where the lives of you, and your loved ones along for the ride, are in mortal peril. For me, these are all true. But the loved ones who I'm usually accompanied by, are my dogs.

Of course I dream about other people (friends and family) in them too, but my girls always make a regular appearance. They are usually in the fight or flight scenario too, which makes these nightmares all the more scary. In a lot of the nightmares, we are either being chased, or trying to escape something (like a tornado). They are always off leash, and I always find myself having a hard time getting them to come with me and to then stay by me as we run away. They usually dawdle, or move too slowly...or sometimes they are paralyzed by fear. I always snap awake just when something really terrible is about to happen, and grope in the dark for their furry bodies. I find them (of course) and breathe a huge sigh of relief. Feeling Shelby's warm weight as she rests against my legs, and Heidi's naked pink belly (as she sleeps upside down on my other pillow) always brings me out of the nightmare induced shock and panic and back to reality.

My nightmares lately, however, have grown into more specific visions that directly endanger their lives; versus endangering all of our lives for example.

Last week I woke up from a nightmare so vivid, that if I think about them, I can still see the images as clear as day; as if they had been permanently burned into my memory. Even though the odds of you all thinking I am completely insane for dreaming this (not to mention now typing it for the world to see) are pretty high, this is the dream: Shelby was flying a jet. Yes, that's right. FLYING A JET. We were out in the back yard of my old house and she saw birds in the sky. (She LOVES chasing anything up there...sparrows, planes, clouds...the MOON...) The next thing I know, she is in a jet chasing the birds through the sky. I of course was frantic. Not because I was thinking how my dog couldn't possibly fly the plane correctly, or hold the stick because of a lack of opposable thumbs, but because I was afraid she was going to crash. So the next thing I know my mom and I are running through the streets of some city (Boston?) looking for a building large enough that I can stand on the roof and flag her down. I ended up trying to run up the ramp of a parking garage trying to get to the roof when I saw a plane collide with something in the air. Although it was another plane, I undoubtedly knew Shelby's was next. She then ended up crashing, and I found a fireman running down towards me with her in his arms; charred, wet and shaking. I screamed and went to grab her. That's when I woke up.

The next one I had was about Heidi. This one was more real to me, as the circumstances in the dream were ones that could in fact, happen. (Although I know Shelby is smart enough to fly a plane, I doubt anyone would grant her access to a cock-pit.) I dreamt that I found Heidi on my bed, and her eyes were rolling back and she was unable to stand. She kept falling over, as if she were drunk. I yelled for my mom and said that I was bringing her into work (our 24 hour facility) to have her looked at. The doctor who saw her was a man, but isn't an actual doctor that I work with (yeah, I have no idea where this guy came from). He took her out back, and they put her in oxygen as she wasn't breathing properly. They then said that they needed to tube her to assist in her breathing, and showed me pictures of some scan (a ct? glorified x-ray?) that showed that she had a blockage in one of her veins in her liver. They needed to do surgery, but she would be OK. That's when I woke up.

I think this second one was brought on by the fact that I had brought both girls in that day to work and had them get their annual physical and had had blood work done. I was nervous about their results because it had been so long since the last time they had had any done (Sept '08). I usually try to do it every 6 months (because they are on raw, and I am a hypochondriac so I think f they are going to get something, at least I can catch it early) and I had only waited because money was so tight due to my short leave from work earlier this year. I felt like a TERRIBLE mother, so as soon as I did have a little money, this was the first thing taken care of. (Yes, my sneakers still have holes in them...)

The reality of the situation is that their blood work actually looks good. Some of their stuff was a bit off, but I also normally fast them before having it drawn and this time I had fed them breakfast. The numbers weren't off so much that their doctor was concerned, so I figure I'll stick to my same routine and have it done again in December. Of course if anything comes up with them between now and then, we will recheck it, and compare it as we now have a baseline.

So as I wonder about my own dreams, I also wonder about theirs too. I think they must have the ability to have clear, vivid dreams as we do, but...do they remember them? Do they seem so real that the line between dream and reality sometimes get blurred? Do they spend hours after waking up wondering what all of those crazy sleep-induced images meant? (I don't think so, as they are often role models for the ability to live in the present.) After reading a lot of Patricia McConnells work, I share her belief that our dogs (and many other animals) do share our emotions, both primary (fear, joy/happiness, anger, etc.) and secondary (jealousy, etc.). But I wonder if their emotions, like ours, affect their dream-lives as well. I wonder if their night visions are permeated by smells and sounds rather than visual images. I don't think anyone out there can argue that dogs don't dream. Anyone who lives with dogs have witnessed first hand their somewhat active sleep habits: thrashing limbs, twitching whiskers and noses and whines and growls. Who knows whether they are having an enjoyable dream of chasing squirrels, or a terrifying nightmare where their lives (and their loved ones too?) are in danger.

But although I may never know what my girls are dreaming about, or how those dreams affect them, I can rest assured that they are happy and healthy; and knowing that helps me sleep better too. Even when the nightmares come, I awake knowing that they were just "scary dreams" and the truth is my girls are still by my side; usually sleeping peacefully.

Sheltie: Silenced!

2009-06-17T18:29:00.000-07:00

This post is going to be confirming the stories of abuse that my girls have been telling people for years. It was bad enough having to endure baths and grooming, but this...this is just inexcusable. Today I had to break out...

THE CITRONELLA COLLAR!!!!

Don Don DON!!!

I bought the collar for the girls when I worked at the training center several years ago. Although I was not necessarily having a barking problem then, I knew I had young Shelties and that, some day, it may BECOME a problem. I thought I was also making out on another "steal". The collars that that time were retailing for about 95 bucks; I got mine at cost for about 60 or so. They now go for about half that (http://www.amazon.com/Premier-Spray-Sense-Anti-Collar/dp/B0002D31QU) .

For those of you unfamiliar with a spray collar, let me explain what they are. They are a small box that has a microphone on the back, which rests on the dogs throat. The top of the collar has two holes: one to put the spray into (from an aerosol can), and one that discharges the spray when the dog barks. It lets it go in a puff of spray, accompanied by a somewhat surprising hissing noise. The hope is that the surprise of the sudden burst of spray itself (which gets the dog a little wet), the smell of the citronella, and the hissing sound will deter the dog from barking. It is approved and endorsed by the Humane Society and the SPCA and is a great first step to try if you have an obsessively barking dog. A much nicer first try to curb the barking than using a shock collar, or performing a permanent, surgical devocalizing.

There are a few types of collars out there, but they all generally work the same. The success in it lies in the design of the collar (one design having a stick-like rod that protrudes from the back where the microphone is located), the sensitivity of it (I really do like the Premier products the best), the tightness of the collar around the neck (which should be just like the dogs regular collar-you should fit two fingers between the neck and the collar itself), and the dogs response. Usually what happens is the dog barks, gets sprayed, jumps in surprise, and then decides that they cant stand on that spot on the floor/ground anymore. A few more barks and the dog gets it: bark=spray. Sometimes, however, the dogs don't care about being sprayed at all. They bark, get sprayed, bark again, get sprayed again, etc. There's nothing wrong with the dog; the citronella collar just isn't the right tool to curb the barking.

Now I don't want to get too much into the bark ground and theories and ways to control barking. I explained my feelings in my post about Dog Laws at our other blog: http://rohanshelties.blogspot.com/2009/02/dog-law-every-dog-owner-should-be-aware.html

Although I bought it "just in case", I did have to end up using it, albeit briefly, when we lived in the townhouse in Dracut. Obviously our neighbors were pretty close, so we didn't want to be the people with the "annoying barking dogs" (those turned out to be our "new" neighbors, who moved in shortly before we decided to move out; they were one of the reasons for our move!) But, being brilliant Shelties, they learned what the collar meant. Indeed, they even learned the name for the collar. Even though neither dog has really worn it in the past couple of years, I can still "threaten" them with it when they get a little too vocal. All I have to say is "Citronella collar" and they usually button up pretty quickly.

Shelby is MUCH more sensitive to the threat of the collar; when she hears the dreaded words, she not only quiets down but immediately launches herself into my lap to make apologetic gestures: licking my face, ears back, soft whining. All the little behaviors that always make me think twice about actually using it. Heidi isn't as phased by the collar (and therefore the threat of using it) because her mane and "fluff-ruff" is SO big and full that the collar doesn't work properly. It either can't register her bark if it is sitting on top of her hair, or if I bury the collar in it, it can't spray her because it gets caught in the hair webbing now sitting on top of the collar!

Now my girls bark for different things, which also determines how often they get "threatened". Heidi barks a lot indoors; at quirky things (the blender, hair-dryer, vacuum, the shower turning on, keys being picked up, etc.) And although her barking at those random things gets annoying, she is very good about stopping when we tell her we've had enough. Shelby on the other hand is an outside barker. She barks at the cars that turn around in our driveway (we are the last house on a dead-end street, so we get a lot of them), the annoying kids who play at the end of our street (aka in our DRIVEWAY!!), and now at the birds (that no longer have to be goose-shaped; any bird will do!) as they fly over our house, which she considers our "air space". Shelbys barking, although less annoying to us than Heidi's, can get us into a bit more trouble since it is outside and the NEIGHBORS can hear it as well. (As a side note, if a complaint was ever lodged, I would point out with NO TROUBLE the dog who lives across the street that barks at all hours of the day as he is left UNATTENDED in a 10x6 run, and the kids whose shrieking easily reaches the point where only bats-and my dogs-can hear it. If someone says to me that I have to shut my dogs up, I'm going to tell them to shut theirs-kids and dogs-up first!!)

So although Shelby has really kept her little Sheltie mouth shut lately, it was a little harder for her today. It was the first real nice day in at least a week, so when I kept the door open to give them access to the deck and fenced yard, she went a little crazy. I'm not sure if more birds were out, also enjoying the nice weather, or she was able to see them better without the low-lying clouds that have blanketed our sky for so long, but she was definitely having to keep our air-space clean more today. So as her barking reached its peak, I had to get the collar. And I did it for her own good as much as anyone else's. When I went to get her (as you should NEVER call your dog to you when you are going to do something unpleasant to them) she was panting heavily; she is so focused on chasing the birds that she can't settle. I wanted to give my little one a break before she ran herself into the ground.

So I put the collar on her, just while I finished up ironing, and then took it off. The look on her face was priceless. It was as if I had both beaten her and told her there was no Santa Paws. Her face was just so sad; the indignant, disgusted looks I was getting was disconcerting. Then when Heidi (being as nosey as she is) went up to see what all the fuss was about, and smelled the collar on her poor sisters neck, she started with the ugly looks too!

I tried to explain to both of them it was only for a few minutes and it was for Shelbys own good, but they looked like they didn't believe a word I was saying. I quickly took the collar off a few minutes later and have been trying to get back on Shelby's good side all night. Although I don't think I am completely forgiven yet, I do have to say that the Yoghund ice cream helped. I'm just hoping I don't wake up with a Sheltie-Shaped pillow over my head trying to smother me tonight while I sleep! (Oh, and for the record, the collar lives EMPTY on my refrigerator when not in use. This is so Heidi doesn't find and DESTROY it. And as it has been so long since I've had to break it out, yes, I put it on Shelby EMPTY today too! Sssshhhh....dont tell her!)

Here are some pictures of Shelby wearing the dreaded device: first being stressed, then hearing birds, then looking in the sky for them! But she still didn't bark...

A Sheltie Steal!

2009-06-07T16:53:00.000-07:00

Did I happen to mention yet that I love living in New England? Every time wander-lust hits me and I feel the urge to wonder where I would like to live some day, I always come back to thinking "I can't leave New England...its just too good here!" Now of course I know that everyone must think like this; if you didn't love where you were living, why would you continue to stay? But I have to say, being a dog owner in New England definitely has its perks.

Just like in human medicine, we have some of the best veterinary hospitals around. Both Tufts University and Angell Memorial are world renown. And there are, of course, many others: including the amazing group of hospitals that make up InTown, which is where I work. We also have an amazing competition scene; Paw Print Trials, who serves as secretary for many of the top 10 agility trials in the entire US, is based right here...and many of those high-entry trials are held here in Massachusetts. We have some of the best world competitors and trainers at facilities that are an easy hour or so drive in any direction from where I live: Ken Fairchild, Julie Daniels, Lo Baker, Celeste Meade, and Leslie Nelson are all here.

There are several dog parks, dog friendly state parks and beaches, hiking trails and open fields that are heaven to any dog looking for a little exercise and some bonding time with mom or dad. The weather is always changing; you can enjoy all of those afore mentioned places during the hot dog-days of summer, the crisp coolness of autumn, the chilly snow of winter and sunny rebirth of spring. And with all of the changes the seasons bring, also bring a variety of other activities that you can enjoy during them: skiijoring and sledding, hiking and swimming, kayaking and canoeing, and of course indoor and outdoor dog shows.

But as wonderful as all those reasons are, there is one reason that I regularly over looked...until yesterday: living within easy driving distance of the PetEdge warehouse!

Now, for those of you who don't know about PetEdge (PetEdge.com), it is a pet supply company that usually sells to retailers...but also sells to the general public as well; they not only sell to you and I, but we get the same WHOLE SALE prices that the retailers get! Check them out the next time that you're looking for great prices on everything from crates to beds, toys to bowls and every grooming supply that you could ever want or need! Their prices can't be beat!

Now although I have been aware of their company (and my close proximity to their warehouse!) for many years, I never took so much advantage of their great pricing and good deals as I did yesterday. I had received an email from them about a week ago about a three day sale they were having at their warehouse only. Money has still been a little tight, so although I didn't delete it, I wasn't really planning on going. I didn't NEED anything at this particular time (although being a Sheltie owner I could probably always use SOMETHING...) so I wasn't as excited about it as I probably could have been at some other point. But then a friend of mine said that she had gone down and got a GREAT deal on some beds. So, as I found myself off on Saturday with nothing to do but brush the girls, I took the drive down. What the heck, I thought. Maybe I'll get something at a steal.

AND BOY DID I!!

Now, the entire warehouse store was NOT on sale; the great deals only applied to the clearance room. So I strolled around there looking for something I could USE...not just something I wanted, but something I could put to use to justify spending the money. First I found a cordless nail grinder. That is something that I could definitely use and had always wanted. The box was damaged, but all parts were accounted for and it was only 7 bucks. So I grabbed it. I then bought a small clipper, as I've found that just scissoring a "sani-strip" on their hind ends isn't quite cutting it. The clippers were 21 bucks. When I got to the counter, I found out that I already had a 13 dollar credit on my account from a previous return. Sweet! I paid the difference and told the girls that we were leaving...

It's a good thing we didn't! I happened to hear some of the employees talking about bringing some more stuff into the clearance room. So, leaving my bag of purchased items at the counter, I went back in. And that's where I spotted a set of these:

http://homeandkennel.petedge.com/Pet-Studio-RampSteps-ZA659.pro?parentCategoryId=194&categoryId=222&subCategoryId=418

I had been WAITING to be able to afford a set of stairs or ramp for the side of my bed so Heidi can get on and off; Shelby has always been able to jump on and off, but my Heidi has never been able to do it. I've always lifted her on or off the bed; which got a little difficult when I wasn't allowed to lift anything over 10lbs. after I had my stent placed...

The sticker on this "marked down" set, was $67.99. It was still a lot (a lot more than I had planned on spending that day, anyways...) but I knew that they were in the catalog for over $100. So I brought them to the counter.

When the cashier rang them up, the price came to:

(get ready for it!!)

$11.19!!!!!!!!

Yes. That's right. I paid ELEVEN DOLLARS for something that is still priced online for $127! I felt like that crazy lady in the IKEA commercial when she looks at her receipt and then RUNS to the car where her husband is waiting screaming "START THE CAR! START THE CAAAARRR!!"

I hurried the girls out, into the car, and sped out of that parking lot as if it were a chase scene from "Chips". I think I even left a little rubber (and flying dog hair!) behind.

I still am proud of my excellent bargain, and felt the need to share it with all of my dog friends out there in blogger land. I hope you all are finding bargains in this tough economy too! We can't forget the needs (and lets face it, wants!) of our furry friends!

Take care everyone, and here are some pictures of Heidi enjoying her new stairs. True to Sheltie form, she figured out how to use them and remembered where they were in a few short "up and down" sessions (with liver enticements of course!) The last pic is so Shelby gets some "face time" too.

Double Trouble

2009-05-16T11:55:00.000-07:00

Although my amazing Shelties are beautifully behaved and expertly trained, they are still dogs. Very VERY smart, intelligent dogs. Dogs who, when they don't have a job to apply all those smarts to, get creative in terms of finding intellectual outlets on their own. Now, at this point I have to be honest and admit that I've been slacking. I know I haven updated in a while, but Ive had to take a few steps back and really curb my activity level again; I was just feeling too tired and run down and needed to let my body rest. Not only did I have to start taking it easier at work, but also at home. Which meant that the girl activities would be cut down too. Now I hope that through all these posts you know me well enough to make sure that they are still being taken care of! We're just playing more Frisbee in the backyard (while I can sit) instead of taking long walks.

So I had deep and meaningful conversations with them to let them know what was going on and that "mommy needs to rest", and I think they took it well. Sure, Heidi has been a little more talkative than normal (with a little more pent up energy than normal, her mouth seems to be her "creative" outlet-more on that in a bit) and Shelby has been chasing more and more things in the sky (again, more on that in a bit). But otherwise they have been doing well. We all have. I'm hoping, as I'm sure Ive said here a hundred times before, that listening to my body now and getting some seemingly needed rest, will pay off later and I'll be able to enjoy being active again. Indeed, I hope to be able to be even more active than I was before!

So, things up to this point have been going well. That is, they were going well until yesterday. Yesterday was the first day that I thought to myself (as I'm smart enough not to have yelled it out loud): BAD DOG!!! And not only did I think it once, I the thought occurred to me twice. In ONE DAY!! Let me tell you the tale:

So, not too long ago, I posted about some "quirks" that my girls had. Well, let me tell you about two more. And also how these quirky behaviors got the "BAD DOG!" thoughts yesterday.

After our somewhat disappointing attempts at herding (both sheep and ducks) I thought I would Shelby continue to practice on some, uh, local fowl: the Canadian geese that seem to be EVERYWHERE. Now, I don't let her chase them anywhere where they should be: state parks, etc. but on public beaches and places of business they're fair game. Now of course I would never put Shelby in harms way; I can call her off them in a split second if the geese don't take to flying right away (which means they may fight) or if they fly too close to a road. But letting her go tearing off in chase (much like a sight hound at a lure coursing event) is something really neat to see. At first she wouldn't go that far from me. She would run a little, give a few barks and then come back. Now, however she'll run and run...even after they've taken flight she'll still chase them while they're in the air. It's even more of a fun challenge for her when its seagulls at the beach-they're not as bright as the geese, you see. They fly off when she comes running and then when she comes back to me, they'll just land in the same spot again. Which, of course, makes Shelby go right back after them.

Shes become a little...obsessed...with this behavior. She now tries to chase anything that she sees in the sky; she actually walks with her neck craned upwards so that she can stare search it for things to chase (once she even got upset that the moon was out early...and no, it wasn't moving!). But again, she has a great "leave-it" and stops staring (or chasing) as soon as I ask her to. But yesterday she took the behavior further than I think even she expected. My mom and I took them to the beach to get some exercise. They went for a bit of a walk and I brought their chuck-it so they could run too. And of course, Shelby chased birds: in the sky and on the beach. But one time when I threw the ball it got lost in the beach grass. As my mom and I were looking for it, we heard this huge "SPLASH!!!" We both turned around and saw Shelby practically UNDER WATER. She had JUMPED right into the ocean! Where we were is kind of hard to describe; we weren't on the actual shore, but on the beach of a small harbor. So the ocean waves weren't lapping at the sand. It was pretty calm and quiet. But it was deeper than the gentle, gradual slope of the actual "beach" on the other side of the road.

So now Shelby, coughing and sputtering, comes bounding out of the sea with this look of complete surprise on her face like "WOW that was DEEP! And cold!!" And I now have a soaking wet Sheltie that needs to be loaded into my car for the drive home. And this is when, while the pungent odor of "wet dog" was filling my nostrils on the entire 45 minute trip back, I was thinking "BAD DOG!" But then those fleeting thoughts left as quickly as they came. And they were replaced with laughter and the humor of the ridiculousness of the whole thing. I didn't have my camera at this point, but she looked very similar to this:

This picture was taken after she had gotten soaked with muck after another memorable seagull chasing event in March. The only difference is here she is soaked with muck only up to her chest and yesterday she was soaked with water and sand...up to her chin! I actually took her collar off to make sure she didn't get a hot spot.

On to "BAD DOG!" #2:

One of Heidi's quirks, which shes done ever since we brought her home, has been to eat socks...and other, er, undergarments. And although it sounds terrible, the reasons behind are actually kind of amusing. Those people in the training and behavior world often remind us that dogs do not have the emotional capabilities to feel things like spite. Well, come meet my dog Heidi. She can be very spiteful in certain situations! She seeks out these clothes to kill when my mom and I leave; no, not EVERY time that we leave, but when we leave and piss Heidi off. For example, she wont eat anything when we go to work or to run an errand UNLESS we do something like leave and come right back: i.e. when I say goodbye, walk to the car and then realize I forgot something back in the house. So, I go back, unlock the door, grab my forgotten item and then LEAVE AGAIN. This is the situation where Heidi will go into either of our rooms (mine first, and then if she can't find anything easily accessible then she goes to scope out my mom's room) and look for something to eat. And no, she doesn't eat them completely, she chews them and then leaves the slobbery mass on the floor for me to find.

Now this behavior is pretty rare; not necessarily because Heidi doesn't get pissed off as often as before because she is aging (yeah right!), but because we've kept our house "puppy proofed" (yes, the puppy proofing that you usually do when you have a 7 week old puppy not a 7 year old adult dog!) We have to put up a gate to prevent her from going upstairs (which we would probably do regardless for safety reasons) and I went from using a laundry basket to keep my dirty clothes in to a hamper with a lid. I had to do this last switch because she had figured out how to actually GET INTO the basket and grab said sock from INSIDE my pant legs!!

So we humans think we are so smart; now that we have outsmarted the dog. Well yesterday she proved me wrong. BIG TIME. She totally outsmarted us. I got home and saw that she had left me a gift: a pair of chewed, drooly...unmentionables...on my floor! I thought "How in the HELL did she get them?!?!" Then I looked at the laundry hamper. This is what I saw:

She actually PULLED THEM OUT through the tiny holes in the front. And what is even worse, is that there were also SOCKS sticking out of the hole too! Now I don't know if those had come through while she pulled the "other" item out, or if she had gone back for seconds but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that she took advantage of them hanging out and chewed those too! This dog is TOO SMART for her own good!!! This was the second "BAD DOG!" thought for the day. I of course couldn't say it to her because she doesn't remember what she did. And she doesn't know what "BAD DOG!" means; I might as well be shouting "pickles and ice-cream" at her. And again, like Shelby's incident/accident from before, once the shock of the "I can't BELIEVE that the dog did this" feeling wore off, I managed to find the humor in the situation.

And thats what my Heart-Dogs are still doing for me: reminding me to laugh and find the humor in every day situations; even if they at first appear to be troublesome or annoying. And to remember these times as they will later become precious and treasured memories. And to remember that having two dogs is usually double the trouble, they are also (just like the gum commercial says) "double the pleasure and double the fun"!! (And in he Shelties' case, double the beauty, sweetness, intelligence and love.)

American Dog

2009-04-25T09:31:00.000-07:00

Although this post is a little delayed, I just want to also share my congratulations to the Obama family in their new furry members arrival. I remember how much fun it was to be young and have my first dog too. The adventures they have, the lessons they learn and the love they share will be with them forever. Although I am not a subscriber to the same political party or mindset, and of course am completely biased on what particular breed has my heart, I couldn't be happier with the situation.
I'm so glad that they, as our blogger friend Cadie posted on her Acadia Shelties site, did not buckle under the immense pressure that was being put on them from various animal welfare/rescue groups about what THEY think the family should have done. It was really nice to see that they did what was right for THEIR family.
I cannot BELIEVE how much controversy their decision has caused. Sure, he may have said that we would like a rescue dog. We ALL would like to see rescue dogs in permanent loving forever homes. But when it comes down to it, we all need to make a decision based on our individual and familial needs and wants. And after all, isn't this still America? Don't we still retain the right of freedom of choice, and the right to the pursuit of happiness?
I mean, if you think about it, yes, the Earth might be better if we all drove hybrid Prius'. But a Prius will NOT fit every ones lifestyle. How are you going to cram you 4 kids and spouse into a Prius? How will you fit your two English Mastiff's in there? How will you pull your trailer or boat? Just because they are available and a good decision, doesn't mean that everyone can or should get one. Now, look at it when it comes to dogs. The Obama's needed a hypo-allergenic breed (personally, what makes me SO proud is the fact that they did not pay some exhorbent amount of money for a "designer" dog like a labradoodle). They also need a friendly, outgoing energetic breed that can keep up with their demanding schedule. If they were to get a mixed, Heinze 57 dog, who knows what the personality would be like, or the size the dog grew into. Or the temperament or behaviors the dog could come up with. Of course, as was expressed in my last post, every dog is an individual even beyond their breed tendencies, but it is hard to have any predictions when you don't even know where to start.
And it is obviously harder to guarantee the health of the dog as well. Sure, many people argue that mixed breeds are healthier because they have fewer genetic conditions, but think about it: any mix or combination of purebreds can have the same inherited eye, bone and joint and heart issues. And yes, in the veterinary clinic where I work, we see mixed breeds with cancer too.
I know that there are many passionate animal lovers out there who would like to see every homeless pet in rescues and shelters adopted. I applaud their love, hard work and all of their efforts to get that mission accomplished. But these people also need to STOP blaming and penalizing RESPONSIBLE pet owners and breeders. Just because someone buys from a breeder, it doesn't mean that they are making or accepting the conscious decision to "let a shelter pet die". We need to start looking towards the actual reasons behind the pet over population; it has nothing to do with the good responsible breeders making good, healthy, quality pet dogs available to loving homes. It has to do with the fact that so many low income pet owning households are irresponsible: not spaying and neutering their pet (who is clearly not being kept intact to "improve a breed"-as most are mixed breeds themselves) and then letting said intact pet run amok through their neighborhoods ensuring unwanted and unplanned litters. It is because of commercial facilities (aka the HUNTE corp.) that churn out pets like product, and then sell to second party dealers (aka pet stores) who then sell them to people who walk through their shops and buy on impulse; with no regard to the dogs health, if they are really ready and able to care for another being, and who because of lack of education, they keep THESE dogs intact and become "backyard breeders."None of these things happen when responsible breeders are at the helm. These people not only ensure that they are only breeding healthy and temperamentally sound dogs, but they also screen out the people who may not be the best candidate for that breed (or a pet at all!) They are doing all of the right things; the problems lie when those people who get turned away (for whatever reason) by the responsible people, are then able to go to the pet store or even shelter and get a pet. The red flags that the responsible breeders saw on the initial meeting usually crop up at some other time later (or in some cases, right off the bat) in the pets life. People who shouldn't own so much as a gold fish because of personality flaws/disorders (hoarders, people who want to breed for ridiculous reasons-"I want my kids to experience the miracle of birth", "I don't want to take away his/her right as a 'parent'", "I want to make money" etc.) are then able to do all of those irresponsible things at the animals expense. People who were turned away for financial reasons (most breeders know that if someone balks at the price of a high quality puppy, they will also question other "pricey" things that are undoubtedly bound to come up throughout the pets life-accidents, vaccines, heartworm tests, other illnesses etc.) will then find themselves facing a huge medical bill or euthanasia because the puppy they bought from a pet store has parvo, kennel cough that progressed to pneumonia, or hip dsyplasia. (I see these INFURIATING cases all the time at the hospital).
We (we meaning all of us animal lovers) need to stop persecuting and placing hugely restrictive laws on responsible owners and breeders and focus on the real issues plaguing us. Good breeders need to stop being demonized for what they do; this is America. The greatest country in the world. We can deal with the issues of Peace all over the world, but we can't all agree on or take care of our pet issues here in our own country? We need to start working together and stop pointing fingers. We need to look at the issue as a whole, and find out really, what the root of the problems are. And for HEAVENS SAKE, we need to stop judging people based on their decisions as pet owners-as long as they are RESPONSIBLE. And although criticizing politicians is part of what it is to be American, judging him on his decision on which pet would be right for his family is just wrong. I hope we can keep in mind how happy that this dog will make this family for years and years to come; even after they have vacated the White House, and have moved beyond Washington, "Bo" and all of the memories with him will live on in their hearts forever.

Real Life: Lessons in life and love

2009-04-20T06:20:00.000-07:00

This post was inspired by the "Real Life" post by one of our favorite Bloggers "Many Muddy Paws". (If you haven't read it, and it's follow up post, go check it out!)

I have long since been an advocate for people teaching their dogs real world skills. When I taught puppy and small dog beginner and advanced classes, I always tried to impress upon my students how great it is that their dogs could shake their hand, and leave a biscuit that was placed in front of them alone, but that the real importance of those lessons was to have a happy, well socialized, SAFE pet. It wasn't just "shaking hands", it was an ice breaker for someone who might be afraid of a big (or any sized) dog; it wasn't just neat how your dog could turn their noses up at a piece of highly edible food that was being offered to them, but it was an extremely important safety skill that can be used when your dog was going to eat something undesirable or worse, dangerous. (Like the time a little boy was trying to feed my girls M&M'S in Petco).

Even the "fun" things that we did in class had an important purpose: when we brought out small agility equipment for the dogs to play on at our last class, we were not only intending for everyone to just have fun. It was important to not only build the confidence of new dogs and their new owners, but to also demonstrate to the humans that if they could act like EVERYTHING they taught their dogs was this fun, then their dogs would learn things and be weaned off treats faster. They should treat every exercise as a game; sit and lie down doesn't have to be boring!

When I worked for the big facility here in Mass, I was told that using our own dogs as demos would cause the students to feel bad; it would cause a sense of inadequacy, and make them feel like they could never achieve that level of "obedience". I, however, thought and saw differently. When I did bring my girls out for demos, I found that the students really did strive to do better: concentrate more on their homework and try new things as well. Many said to me that they hoped that their dogs could be like mine. I took this opportunity to remind them that this was my JOB. They were the ones who had it really hard; they had to work their regular jobs and THEN find the time and energy to put into training their dog to be a good citizen. I got to do the training AS my job every day. I told them that I did just as much work on my two as they were doing, but I was able to incorporate this into my every day activities: because it was what I was PAID to do. I made sure that they understood that just because we were the trainers, we did not keep the "magic" pills hidden in the office for our use only. They could do whatever they wanted with their dogs but just like with anything else in life, you get what you put in.

I also tried really hard to impress upon them that they had to take into account several factors in their training and relationships with their dogs even before we got started. You should always remember that you dog is a DOG: not a human in fur-clothes. They are going to do DOGGY THINGS like eat and roll in disgusting things, sniff butts, and wrestle/play fight with other dogs. We expect a lot from our dogs because they live in our homes and play such a huge part in our lives. But they cannot be held to the same high social standards that we put on ourselves and our human children. If you can't handle NORMAL (i.e.: non aggressive, non-out of control) behaviors, then don't get a dog. HOWEVER, there are doggy behaviors that although are normal, can be considered rude and bothersome if they are allowed to continue. These include jumping on people and incessant barking. All of these behaviors can get better and get under control with some good training, but remember: they ARE normal.

The next thing that I asked them to keep in mind was their dogs breed. It is important to know something of the history of the breed (or breeds in some cases) so that certain behaviors predictability could also be kept in mind. (Shelties bark, Labs swim and retrieve, Beagles bay...) Going a bit beyond that, is to keep the dogs INDIVIDUAL personality in mind. It's important to remember that even though you have a lab, this dog may not retrieve. Your Newfie may not like water. Your Border Collie may not have "eye". And just because the LAST 15 individuals that you owned of this breed did behaviors A,B and C, doesn't mean that this one will. Just like with people, dogs genetics, socialization and personality reflects how it will behave in certain situations.

It is important to keep this all in mind so we do not place too high expectations on these little fuzzy beings so that we may enjoy a happy life with them; we don't want to waste our all too short time being angry or frustrated with them. Which is why training in itself is so important. We bring these guys into our lives for companionship and love, so why not make that a little easier to come by?

And on that note, it is so important to not only spend time training your new best friend to be a well-mannered member of society so that they can go out and about with you, but it is important to remember to cherish the time that your dog has a new member of your family. (As was posted in the "Full Tilt Border Collie's" blog where "Manny Muddy Paws got THEIR inspiration). As important as training is, don't forget that this is just the start of your magical journey together. Although every moment is precious and deserves to be remembered, it is the first golden days that you spend together that will be most missed once they have gone. Once our dogs grow into adults and their training is "complete", you start to remember and revel in the beautiful puppy nostalgia; remembering the silly puppy behaviors that although at the time probably seemed annoying, are now looked back on fondly. It was those behaviors that were the dogs raw personality coming through-without the training and discipline that we ingrain in them as they grow up. These puppy antics may have even helped get them their name (sometimes that name that you spent so long deciding on would have changed the instant you met and got to know them because their true nature shone through).

I'm not really sure what the point of this blog was; so many of you reading this know and are aware of all of this already. I guess that, just like with any of the other blog posts I write, this is a little bit for myself as well as for everyone else. I constantly try to remind myself to be thankful for every day I get to spend with my girls...and I hope that in my efforts to remind myself, that maybe I remind someone else as well. I try to remember that even though we aren't competing in Agility anymore, all those wonderful hikes in the woods and trips out and about are just as special as any clean run. And although that just the thought of it is excruciating to think about, I hope that one day, when my girls have crossed over that Rainbow Bridge, I will look back on all of these posts and remember that I did love them every day that we shared together. And that just because they will have gone, doesn't mean that the love that I have needs to go too. That is what will get me through those toughest of days. And that is what gets me through these tough days too.

Sheltie Rituals

2009-04-16T14:21:00.000-07:00

I started getting into this whole blogging thing when I got sick and was out of work for a while a few months ago. It's been a lot of fun discovering new blogs to read, and learning about so many different people (and dogs!) from all over the world. One blog that I got into and still check on is author Jon Katz's Bedlam Farm blog. Its so nice to live a little vicariously through his posts; I know I'll never be able to own and live on a farm myself, so it's a treat to feel like I'm just a little bit a part of one when I read his posts and see his pictures.

One of the things that he has posted entries and pictures about is his "daily egg" that he gets from his chickens. Various pictures sometimes accompanied by stories will be put up of the egg as it is photographed in different places around his farm. He then started posting a "daily bottle" scene, as he was having a hard time finding his chickens' eggs. The photographs are beautiful-even though their context is so simple.

So, his ideas bring me to this post. I know that his posts are about his photography and the beauty in simple, everyday things, but I think it is also about little rituals. I started thinking about my own every day ones and was quite surprised to realize how many the girls and I actually have.

For example, we have "our daily cheese." After I have whatever it is I usually have for breakfast (lately it's been a bowl of Cheerios!) I have a cheese stick. I figure it's good to have a bit more dairy and protein to start off the day, right? Well what started out as a trial of a healthy morning snack, has now become a daily ritual. It doesn't matter if I eat it early or late, it is always the same: I finish the cereal, and then reach for the stick (which is usually on the coffee table beside me). Immediately upon seeing my reach, both girls come over and give the notorious "Sheltie Stare". Shelby gets up on the other side of the love seat, and Heidi cranes her neck to rest her jaw awkwardly up on the cushion. I peel open the wrapper and feel their intensity and keenness increase; Shelby moves the slightest bit closer, and Heidi starts licking her lips and nose. I pull a small piece off the top and give it to Shelby (the faster I can give it to her, the sooner she stops drooling). I then repeat the process for Heidi. We all love this ritual, although for slightly different reasons. The girls love the food, and I love the closeness we share.

Another ritual we have is "attack the towel", which is one I have with Heidi. I usually walk around with my hair wrapped up in a towel-turban in the space between the shower and when I sit down to get my make-up on for work. As soon as it is time to get the hair down, Heidi knows. She comes running in full tilt, and attacks the towel as I bend over and shake/ruffle/pat my hair a little bit dryer. It didn't start out like this. But as our tug games increased with our agility training, so did Heidi's toy/play drive. Now, I was a trainer for a number of years. Trust me, if this was as obnoxious of a behavior as it may sound, I would have stopped it. (Like chasing the vacuum...I HATE that, and don't allow the girls to practice it.) But this is actually cute. She never tugs hard enough to make me drop the towel, or even stop drying my hair. She just thinks its a bit of fun we can share in the morning before I go to work. And I have to say, that after out "attack the towel" session, my day does start off a little brighter.

A ritual that I share with Shelby, is something that is very specific to her. And it is a ritual she does with EVERYONE; not just me and my mom, but our Vet and strangers when they ask to pet her. She is a HAIR SMELLER. She never ever chews, licks, or bites hair, but she NEEDS to smell it. She just very gently puts her nose right through the strands to the scalp, and proceeds to sniff around. She'll usually then move to other parts of someones head. She takes anywhere from 2-10 seconds to do her "job", and gets VERY upset if she is interrupted before she has finished. She will continue to attempt to get her nose back in the hair if she is not given enough time. My mom and I are of course used to it. To see strangers react is something funny. Most people are happy to oblige once I tell them that she does this to EVERYONE and will not lick or chew their hair. Some people get freaked out though, and as soon as they feel the little nose buried in their tresses, they panic and stand up. That's when Shelby gets most upset. It is very sad.

And one ritual that I share with both my girls, is our "snuggle" time in the morning, and our "say hello" time when I come home. I get up an extra half hour early every morning so that when I get out of the shower (and after I started thawing their food) I can get back into bed with them and snuggle. Usually Heidi will lay right up on my other pillow and sigh contentedly, and Shelby will crawl up in between us and snuggle close. I pet and stroke them, rub their bellies, and kiss their heads. This is also one thing that starts out day off on the right paw, er, foot. Then, when I get home, the ritual is much the same. When I come in the door, they are usually going pretty nuts. Shelby usually jumps on the glass, and then jumps like a jumping bean straight into the air until you tell her to settle down. Heidi usually doesn't jump, but she stands and barks: DEMANDING that you pay attention to the Queen as soon as possible. So, once I get my stuff settled (coat off, mail and lunch bag set on the table, etc) I tell them to "lets go say hello", where they proceed to run to the living room and jump on the couch. I sit down in the middle of them and proceed to give them lovin'. Shelby usually stands on my thigh (to smell my hair, and lick my face) and Heidi lays down with her head on my other leg (so I can scratch inside her ears, and stroke her head and muzzle). After about 10 minutes, they've usually settled down enough to where I can get up and get some other things done (like get their food ready, make dinner, thaw their food, iron, and feed them...which is VERY important).

Most people think I'm crazy for waking up early just to snuggle, putting off my own responsibilities to greet them when I get home or to take them for their daily walk/Chuck-it/Frisbee session, and sharing my own food with them, but the people who would think this are the people who also think "it's just a dog" (see my "It's just a dog" post). I'm happy that our little daily rituals have so much meaning and can make such a big impact on the day as a whole. I know that these rituals will probably even continue with my next generation of Shelties, years from now, and will always be looked back on fondly. They are, after all, just more golden memories that sparkle and shine through the haze and confusion that is sometimes life. It's nice to have little habits to stick to when so much in life is unpredictable and out of our control. It's especially nice when these habits can be shared with a fuzzy loving being that takes just as much joy in them as you do. What are some of your daily habits?

Kennel update (still panicking!)

2009-04-13T09:34:00.000-07:00

So here is the update on our kennel visits from last weekend (finally). I have to admit, I tried putting off the visits for a week, but in the end I forced myself to go and have a look last Saturday. It is just so hard thinking about leaving them, even for a few days. I knew seeing the kennels would essentially make my decision final; I felt like if I could just put it off, another option would miraculously materialize before I needed to leave. Then my rational side kicked in and I thought about how hard it will be to leave them, compounded with the fact that if I had not done my homework, the already difficult situation would be made all the more hard. So I got off my butt and took the short drive to see them both.

I have to say that there are quite a few qualifications I look for in ANY place I plan to bring my dogs; whether it be for a seminar, class, boarding, etc. Being in the business, I know what warning signs to look for in the facility AND the staff: I find it pretty easy to spot red-flags, but also pick up on the positives of a place as well. So one of the first things that make an impression on anyone walking in is the staff. Are the friendly and welcoming? Does it seem like it is a hassle or harassment to ask them for something (that is probably part of their job??) Does it seem like they WANT to be there and enjoy their work? That last one is the big one for me. I know what it feels like to work somewhere and be MISERABLE. I'm sure that the clients felt it, but even more worrisome, is I'm sure that the DOGS felt it. That's why I left that job. And I don't want someone who doesn't want to be there to be handling my dog; their short temper or lack of compassion is not something I want my kids to experience. And I'm not saying that we all don't have bad days. Of course we do. I can't tell you how many times Ive been short with my girls after having a stressful day at work. The difference is that we have a RELATIONSHIP. My dogs and I know each others personalities, temperaments and quirks. Having my girls in the care of someone who doesn't really care at all can make an already stressful situation all the more worse. I don't want that. I want caring people, who love their jobs: where they work, what they do, and who they work with. (This is one reason why I love my own job so much; everyone is extremely dedicated to our patients and other members of our team.)

Another, obvious thing that I look at is the facility. Sure, it really is the people who make a business successful (or not), but the place in which these people work is obviously just as important. It needs to be clean, updated and SAFE. I want to make sure that there is no damage or faults with anything structurally where my dogs (or anyone else's) will be staying, i.e.: screws sticking out from places, chipped/splintered wood, cracks in the floor that can harbor bacteria and broken/sharp chain-link. I also want to make sure that the outside is just as good as the inside. It's important that where the dogs are expected to potty and play be just as clean and safe: no holes in any fencing allowing escapes and proper ground cover to be both sanitary and safe to play on.

I know that the dog people out there will be nodding and agreeing with these areas that need to be inspected. Some of my human, non-dog owning/loving friends may think its over kill. But wouldn't you do the same when looking for somewhere for your HUMAN kids? Just because my adopted children still walk on all fours and are covered in fur doesn't make their lives, happiness, comfort and safety any less important.

So, with those things in mind, I went to visit kennel #1. This was the kennel that was the fore-runner in my mind already. I just like everything that they stand for, and the things they do for the good of dog-dom. Again, I had been there before for seminars and events, but had never seen the boarding/daycare area. When I walked in, I was greeted by two very nice, friendly staff members. Already, a plus for this kennel. Both seemed glad to help, and happy to be there (even on a Saturday morning). One woman was checking someone in already, so the other offered to take me for a tour. She called on her walkie-talkie out back to make sure that the kennel was "secure" (i.e. in lock down, no one running around) before bringing me out to see it. As we walked, I told her of my concerns with Shelby and her previous episode of HGE. She told me that that made her concerned too. She said that although they had a wonderful facility, that it was still no doubt a kennel-setting; it can be loud and stressful. I was not allowed in the actual room where the kennel runs were kept because it would get all the dogs riled up (which I completely understood!) but I could see the two "suites" that I had been interested in. These were not runs like the rest made of chain link fencing, but they were their own little rooms with in the big kennel room. They had concrete walls and a solid, wooden dutch door (with a plexi-glass window on the top panel). These had guillotine doors to allow the dogs to go to a small, fenced patio area where they could take care of "business". The floor was concrete. Although I understood this, as it was easily sprayed down and washed, it still bothered me; I am not sure if my girls will be willing to go on it. I'm afraid they will hold it until they get to their play-yard time and will get a UTI, or in Shelby's case, diarrhea.

The woman explained that they usually give them 3 times throughout the day to use the "play-yards" which are 8 fenced in areas that have sand on the ground. It kind of reminded me of a cattle ranch; different chutes and areas where dogs could go to make sure that they did not come into any contact with any other dog, besides the ones from their families. She told me that this free yard time could be used for cuddling or playing. Whatever suited the dogs individual needs. (I immediately though that this would be the place where "Chuck-It" came out!) The woman emphasized that they are really about the DOG'S needs here; they will tailor the dogs stay to whatever they need or want. They have someone on site 24 hours, and will try to contact our vet first, and then the 24 hour clinic up the road from them if our vet is unavailable. (I explained that our vet is also 24 hours, and that I work there). She suggested that maybe we do a "trial overnight" where the girls can stay one night at a discounted rate to make sure they can handle the situation OK, and to reinforce that I will be coming back to get them.

I thanked the woman for all of her time and help, grabbed some printed info on their boarding program and left. Off to option #2. This kennel is actually only a short 15 min drive from the first one. This one I had a little more experience with, as it is where I usually groom the dogs, but this extra experience wasn't necessarily a good thing. I had encountered a few rude employees before; on two instances it was one of the owners. But, I figured that I should at least go and have a peek. I wanted to give them a chance.

When I pulled in the parking lot, I saw that they were doing a show 'n' go for agility. Luckily it wasn't too crowded. I walked up to the window and explained that I had emailed about some boarding info and was told I could come by and see the facility. The man (who is one of the other owners) said that he could do it. So he took me out through the main hall (where the agility was taking place) and brought me to the kennel area. These were all chain link indoor/outdoor runs. Some were slightly bigger than the others, and those housed multiple dogs. He didn't give me too much information, other than the standard "this is where they stay, they never come into contact with other dogs, etc." I never saw the outdoor portion of the runs. It was very full (again, a Saturday) but the dogs seemed overall content. It was loud, but not excessively so. When I was back in the main lobby grabbing some info, the man asked where I was from. When I told him Methuen, he said that he had driven trucks around that area for years. He went on to say how terrible of a place the area was, with an outrageous crime and violence rate. I told him I lived in a quiet section in the rural part of town and he proceeded to tell me that ALL parts were bad. Yeah. This is the type of rudeness that I had come to expect from his wife also. Although the facility was nice, and I will go back for classes, seminars etc., the staff leave something to be desired.

So, after seeing them both, I felt a little uneasy. I'm not sure if it is the hugeness of my decision to leave my precious girls in someone else's hands in a strange place, or because I had now seen the facilities and realized that yes, they WERE KENNELS. I really did/do like the first place, but...it is still a kennel. I don't know what I was expecting, but I wasn't prepared for the reality of it. I have seriously started considering getting a pet sitter for the girls. I think they'll be more comfortable at home in their own beds and rooms and having some one drop by 3-4 times a day would be plenty for them to potty, eat and get some exercise. I mean, of course I am by no means made of money (as I still have a $677 bill from the hospital sitting on my table waiting to be paid!) but I will pay/do whatever it takes to make sure my girls are happy, comfortable and safe.

But the pet sitter option is an issue in itself. I have been on the various certification website (pet sitters international, etc.) and cannot really find anyone in my area. It seems like a lot of people cover New Hampshire, or north or west of Methuen, but no one says that they cover the Merrimack Valley area. And here too I am very picky; I want someone who is Pet First-Aid certified and accredited by some organization. I sent out a plea to the message board for the Sheltie Club in my area, but have only received one response. I'm still looking into it all, but I think that I have a really tough decision ahead of me.

Well, that's all for now. As things develop, the Shelties and I will of course keep everyone posted. For right now, we're just going to enjoy the time we have before the dreaded 4 days in October come. I'll keep hunting, and if the stars, moon and sun align, we might just find someone who will make the whole process just a little more bearable for us all...

Preparing to panic

2009-04-01T10:00:00.000-07:00

I publish this post with a heavy heart. My plans for a long and glorious road trip to Florida this October have died. I ask you all to take a moment of silence for them. Thank you.

My dreams of a road trip for this year have ended due to my inability to pay for such an extensive (and expensive) car trip. The idea initially sprang from my inclusion in a friends wedding; she had changed her plans from getting married locally here in New England to getting married on a cruise ship (before it departs for a week long cruise in the Caribbean) in Miami. Upon hearing the news about the change of plans (and venue) I immediately became worried: what was I going to do with my dogs while I needed to be away? They have never been kenneled, and I broke into heavy perspiration at the thought of trying to either find a reliable kennel that I trusted (and also agreed to feed their specialized raw diet, and did not require a kennel cough vaccine) or a REALLY reliable bonded and insured pet sitter. But then I started to have wild and crazy thoughts fed by my increasing wander-lust (no doubt borne from my house arrest and inability to go anywhere for 7 weeks!) I thought how fun it would be to make the DRIVE from Massachusetts to Florida; all those amazing things along the eastern seaboard. I started getting REALLY into the idea, and even put in for my 2 weeks vacation the week before (of) and the week after the wedding, so I could visit with family and actually experience some of the amazing things offered along the way.

I got even MORE into it when one day I spent the entire day on the computer researching dog friendly places in all of the states that we would cross. I made a list of everything that we wanted to see and do, and even of some places to stay. I pretty much had the whole trip planned and figured out. It not only served as something to keep my mind busy when I was still idling, but also something REALLY positive to focus on in the not too distant future. But now, alas, the plans have somewhat died. I cannot say they have completely gone because I still have all of the information that I collected saved on my computer and I DO plan on someday taking this really wonderful trip, but...it just doesn't look like it is going to be this year. For a trip like this, you need to plan far ahead; like, I should be planning NOW. And I just do not have the funds to support those plans. Nor do I think I WILL have the funds when October rolls around. (I still have medical bills, credit card debt and a kayak debt from my mom to pay off!) So I'm trying to convince myself that I am taking the mature and responsible route, and looking into alternative options now before it gets too close to the dates and it is then too late.

So, I've decided that we'll (my mom and I) probably fly down to Florida on Thursday, stay and visit with family on Friday, do the wedding on Saturday, and fly home on Sunday. I know, it seems like I should be taking more time, but the truth is, I don't want to leave my dogs for that long. It's been hard enough leaving them at home when I went back to work, which of course, is involuntary. I can't imagine how difficult it will be to drive away from them knowing that I'm supposed to be off to have a "good time".

So, with the cancellation of my big trip and the drastic change in plans, I find myself doing research not into dog friendly places to visit and enjoy, but a raw-friendly, vaccine free kennel (read: PRISON) to leave my girls. That little sense of maturity, responsibility and preparedness has not faded away since I made the big decision. I know that I need to find somewhere that not only has the afore mentioned qualities (that ALLOW my dogs to be there), but a place that is clean, professional, staffed 24 hours and equipped to handle any situation. In short, a place that I am comfortable leaving my furry children whilst I am away; thus (hopefully) ensuring a little bit more peace of mind which will (again, hopefully) then lead to a more pleasant and fun (albeit SHORT) trip.

So, my search starts now. I have already found 2 well known, well established kennels with great reputations in my area. Yes, they are in the neighboring state of New Hampshire, but both are only about a 45 min drive from my home in Mass. I have been to both facilities before for shows, training classes and other events, but never looked hard at their boarding program. Lets face it, before now, Ive never had to! I have to say that even this early into my research, I am leaning more heavily to one facility over another. One just seems more...I dunno, is prepared a good word? Their facilities seem to be more up to date and state of the art, and I have always really liked their message and the work that the owner (a very well known clicker trainer) has done both in her facility and in the dog community as a whole. The other kennel option is also very well known, but for slightly different reasons. They have some of THE top handlers in THE WORLD when it comes to competition obedience and agility. But I know from experience (from being there for various things) that it is fairly loud; I'd want to make sure that where the girls would be staying would be a bit quieter and calmer.

This is a big issue for me, as I believe that Shelby's case of HGE (hemorrhagic gastroenteritis) was a DIRECT result of being stressed out from being in a "kennel" situation. I was house sitting for a friend of mine, who also operates a small kennel/doggie daycare out of her home. My girls were not allowed up in the main house, so I kept them down stairs with the other boarders. I wasn't able to leave them at home because the kennel was very close to work at the time, but work (and therefore the kennel) was about a 45 min. drive each way to my house. I just wasn't able to work, take care of the kennel dogs and my own in a days time. So I brought my girls along. We were there for probably 3 or 4 days(?) When I got home Shelby started with diarrhea. On the second day home it turned bloody. By the end of that day, she was producing a large mass of what looked like blood-clots (a jam-like consistency.) I took her to our regular vet (at the time) and the doctor we saw said "she must have gotten into something. Try a bland diet". I try explaining to this guy (who looked like it was his 2nd day out of vet school) that there was NO WAY that she just ate something; she is with me at work AND at home, and we have a trash compactor. Something was wrong. I ended up taking her for a "second opinion" the next morning after it had gotten worse. I took her to where I work now. This vet diagnosed her with HGE right away; she had an arrhythmia because she was so anemic and weak. She could have DIED. Needless to say, this new clinic became our new vet, and we have continued to see that same doctor since. (Although for emergencies when she is unavailable, we see who ever is here...they're all WONDERFUL).

So, needless to say I'm a little apprehensive about leaving them. Although HGE is said to have a very strong tendency to reoccur, Shelby has never had another problem. Maybe it is because she is on a better diet, maybe because I've limited her stress, but what ever the reason, I'm glad that particular scare has not come back to haunt us. So having a kennel be quiet and stress free is very high on our importance list. Just having a good reputation is not going to do it. I have to actually see and experience the kennel for myself; with my own eyes. I mean, I of course would have done regardless of whether or not either of my girls had any issues; but Shelby's potential bowel troubles have made it all the more important.

So, this is where I head on my Friday off this week; to see and inspect the two kennels for myself. I hope to have a review and our impressions (and hopefully reservations!) to let you all know about this weekend. Wish me luck, and if any one has any tranquilizers, could you pass them along? Not for the girls...for their over-bonded, nervous-nellie Sheltie Mom! Thank you!

Precious lessons, precious moments

2009-03-29T17:15:00.000-07:00

I have now officially been back to work for 3 weeks, going on four. It has been a really nice process, getting back into the swing of things, made much easier by my jobs' willingness to let me get back to work slowly. I've been oh "phone duty" since I've been back, and have been able to take it at a slow pace: allowing both my body and mind to get used to doing something other than sit on the couch and type on the computer. Tonight, however, is my first shift OUT of the phone room and back into "reality". Not only was this shift throwing me back into the pool with my responsibilities of old, but it was a shift that threw me right in the deep-end: a shift in the emergency room.

I'm about half way through as I write this, and I'm doing pretty well. But, just like with everything else that has come along with this "experience", I'm learning (well, relearning)lots of lessons. Because I was in the "phone room" for a few weeks before I even went into the hospital, it's been (honestly) about 3 months since I've done anything BUT talk to clients over the phone. I have to now not only relearn all of the little processes that come along with working in emergency, but I also have to relearn how to interact face to face with clients and their pets; both of whom are often distraught over the circumstances that brought them to us in the emergency room in the first place.

A few of our policies have changed, so I am also having to learn and apply those on the spot; but even doing that, I'm finding that getting back into the groove is just like getting back on a bike. Sure, it takes a little time to get my balance and bearings, but after a little bit of practice, I'm cruising right along unassisted.

That assistance in coming back has definitely made a big difference too. I can always depend on our amazing doctors, technicians and fellow receptionists to help me along the way, should I need it. It is an amazing feeling to not only really enjoy what you do, but to enjoy it AND be surrounded by other people who enjoy it as well. I really love all of the people that I work with, and am eternally grateful for their patience, guidance and help that they have given me, even when they were busy. It's great being part of any team, but to be a part of a team that has the same passion that you do is a truly wonderful experience. And although a lot of the lessons from today have served as "reminders", this is one lesson that I had not forgotten. The support that everyone has given me has been strong all along; tonight is nothing new. And even before my latest difficulties, I was aware of how amazing everyone is here. This had been our veterinary hospital for several years before I started working here last year. I had direct experience with every ones loving care before I got to actually work directly with them. It was a dream come true to get the job here; I knew I was going to be part of something that would impact the lives of people and their pets. Through the good times, and the bad.

And that brings me to the biggest lesson that I have had to relearn since I started my shift tonight. Beyond relearning my job and its responsibilities and beyond becoming more aware of my limitations and my can/cannot do's, I've had to relearn the hard lessons of being a pet owner. The hardest lesson being the one we all must someday regrettably face: the lesson that our furry children have life spans that are greatly shorter than ours. And that some day, a day that will come too soon for us all, we will have to say goodbye.

I can't say that this lesson had been one that I truly "forgot". Just a few days ago I read a post about this very difficult subject at one of the blogs we follow, "Whippet Snippets". And I know all of us Sheltie-bloggers are aware of the scare that Gio and his mom (and brother Romeo) faced just last week. We never know when our beloved friends time will come; we just know that it will come far too soon. And we know that there is always that possibility for the "emergency". Even if our pet is young and healthy, there may be a day that something tragic suddenly occurs; maybe, like in my own case, it will not be life ending, but life altering. No one knows when they will come up, or what the outcome will ultimately be: that's why their called emergencies! But although no one is ever prepared for one, just know that caring people in terms of veterinarians, technicians, and receptionists will be there; maybe not being medically able to save your friend, but hopefully making the process of saying goodbye even the slightest bit less painful. No one can ever take that kind of anguish away, but maybe someone will be able to lessen it a little bit.

I am so grateful for my job...not only because having a job in this tough economy is a blessing in itself, but I am REALLY grateful to have MY JOB. I get to go to work somewhere that is a state-of-the-art facility with a great reputation (which I can personally attest to!), work with incredibly caring and compassionate people who truly care about the pets, their owners and coworkers, and do a job that touches peoples lives every day. And all of those qualities combined not only make going to work a privilege, but a pleasure. Even though some days are tough, especially those days spent in the emergency room, those tough days are the days that teach you the most important lessons of all: our time here is short, and our time spent with the furry loves-of-our-lives is even shorter. Make sure you make the most out of every moment with them. You never know which moment may be the last you will share. Don't live your days in darkness and fear, but in light and in love.

I'm glad to be back to a more "normal" shift at work, and glad to be learning (and relearning) some important lessons while I'm here, but I am going to be even more happy and grateful when I can go home and hug my dogs. Snuggling with them, stroking their pointy Sheltie-heads and entwining my fingers in their soft fur is going to be a wonderful way to end today; and a reminder to pray that I get to experience the same precious gifts tomorrow.

Back to work, but still healing...

2009-03-24T16:22:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone! Sorry it has been so long since the Shelties and I have updated; I was able to go back to work 2 weeks ago and it's taking a little time to get used to. I was supposed to go back part time (dr.s orders) but as business has been a bit slower and our hours are at full-time minimum (35-36 per week) so I figured that I would give full time a go. Looking back now, after two weeks have gone by, Im not sure that was the smartest decision. Ive been EXHAUSTED! Although I cannot be sure that it has been STRICTLY work that has made me so tired; Im still having some issues with bleeding (just part of the territory when you're on coumadin and Plavix) and I haven exactly been resting on my time off. The first week back wasnt so bad, but last week was the killer. I had been put on a 4 night schedule, and then Friday day. It was 5 straight shifts with all but one night. It was hard to get used to, and definitely took it's toll. But even being that tired from working, it was hard to say "no" to going outside when it feels like the never-ending winter is finally drawing to a close.

It's not like I feel obligated to be outside, but it feels like a tremendous waste if Im not. I have learned so much from this whole experience about not letting life's precious moments slip by; knowing that nothing in life is garunteed, including tomorrow. And I know that applies to not only my own life, but to the other lives I cherish so much. Having to leave my girls at home all day has made going back to work that much harder. I know that they are either curled up on the couch or on their memory-foam beds sleeping, and they really arent that concerneed at all about where I am or what Im doing, but I am the complete opposite. I think I have developed separation-anxiety! Sure, work is busy and I have to focus on the task at hand but during the down times it's hard to prevent my mind from thinking about them and fantasizing about the next adventure that we will have: walking in the woods or through open fields, running on the beach or kayaking.

Now, I know that my girls need exercise: theyre herding dogs bred to be outside moving their flocks around day in and day out. I also know what a well exercised dog looks like: tounge hanging out, look of glee on their face, and knowing that they are wondering when they'll be able to take a nap! And I know that exercising them is as easy as sitting on my back deck throwing the frisbee through the yard. Sure they love to do that, and it is a tool that I can use on days like today where we may not be able to do anything else, but...what fun is it? I know that we both like being outside hiking or taking a long walk much more. So thats what we've been doing. Hitting the beach last weekend, walking in Newburyport and at Woodsom Farm on Friday and then hiking some cross-country trails and walking at a park and playing Chuck-It on Saturday. But as juch fun as it all was, an as much as we all enjoyed every second of it, I think that the plan may have back fired.

In my attempt to enjoy life more and not letting any moment go to waste, Im afraid I wore all of us out. Im afraid I forgot that as much as we like being out there, enjoying the slightly warmer weather, the stronger sun and the fresher air, it is important for us to continue to take baby-steps. Im still not 100% and still have a long road of recovery ahead. If I continue to take steps at leaps and bounds rather than at a slower and more comfortable pace, then Im going to be on this road for a longer period of time. Im going to find myself getting more tired and more frustrated. Im going to look back and wish that I could do it all again, wish that I would have taken my time. And of course this also goes for the girls. They too have been cooped up all winter with out much exercise. Their little muscles and joints will also need some time to warm up, stretch out and adjust to a more demanding work out. Although they also love to be outside and will do anything or go anywhere that I ask, I have to keep their health and well being in mind. Just because we all want to, and our spirit is willing, doesnt mean that we can or that our bodies are yet ready.

So we, well I, made some mistakes this past weekend. We did too much, too quickly. Although yes, I did rest (I was so tired, I couldnt help but not to) I also pushed us harder than we should have been. We walked and hiked at about 4 different locations and played Chuck-It to top it off. Needless to say, now that the new work week has begun, I still feel tired. And I KNOW the girls do, because they are both sleeping right now! Heidi is stretched out against the side of the couch and Shelby is curled up in Heidi's crate. They are probably going to be thanking their lucky stars that I'll be gone today! They'll at least finally get to rest!

So as you can see, Im still continuing to learn. This experience is still teaching me lots. Im still going to be hard pressed to stop myself staring out the window day dreaming while I watch the beautifully setting sun, and Im still going to be itching to get out and enjoy the weather that I know will just get more and more pleasant, but Im also going to really try and remember to take it easy; to take it slow. Although I dont want to waste any of the precious time that I have, I also dont want to rush through it so fast that Im not enjoying or remembering it. I want to make sure that I notice the sound of the wind gusting through the pine boughs, making them creak and whine while they are pushed and pulled. I want to make sure I appreciate the smallness that I feel as I watch the waves crash against the rocky shore with the sun sinking slowly into the vastness of the sea beyond. I want to forever imprint the earthy, citrusy smell of nature (and their Quantum natural tick repellant!) that my dogs keep in their fur after one of our favorite walks. I love how that smell fills me up like drink as I wait for sleep to carry me away to my dreams.

So this is the goal for the days off that are coming up next (this Friday and Saturday). Sure we'll be out and about if the weather is nice and enjoying a bit of it, but I'll also take some time to read some of the books that are still lingering around from my work absence, catch up on everyones WONDERFUL doggy blogs, and maybe even watch some movies (yes, Lassie is included!) My girls will get to play more indoor games, and get to munch on a few more treats. You know, the stuff that Sheltie dreams are made of. I dont doubt that we will hit some "doggy stores" and do a few "field trips" as well, but I really am going to try and remain concious of the fact that we are still supposed to be RESTING. Im going to try to keep in mind that although the days seem beautiful right now, they are only going to keep getting better; if I wear myself out at this stage of the game, Im going to be REALLY upset at not having any energy once the seventy degree days hit. And of course my girls will be pretty upset too!!

Luckily the weather for this weekend is forecast to be cloudy and a bit rainy this weekend, so that will help keep me indoors and in the slow lane. The Shelties dont really like being out in the drizzle either (yes, they WERE bred to live on the Shetland Islands, home of some of the worlds wors weather!) so Im sure they too will be content just snuggling and hanging out. Although I will be thee first one to say that I have a long road ahead, and will be the last to say that this journey is over, I am so lucky that I have such wonderful Heart-Dogs to help me through this all. I know I still have much to learn, and I know that they still have much to teach. Lucky for me their love, patience and intuitiveness is never ending and unconditional. I will be forever grateful to my furry Sheltie-shaped Angels.

Part 2: My Mom's many gifts

2009-03-06T08:36:00.000-08:00

So in my last post, I started talking about the amazing freedom I felt being out on the open water in a kayak. This brings me to the "craziness" I also mentioned. My mom actually BOUGHT me a kayak for Christmas this year. I was kind of sad and disappointed at first. I was in the beginning of my medical ordeal and felt weak and unhealthy. I felt like I had had my independence and possibly my life as I knew it stolen away; how dare she buy me something that I would never ever be able to use! But my mom knows me better than I think I know myself. She knew that it would be something that I would start looking forward to as I started feeling better. And she was right. A week or two ago, I was feeling so good, and so excited for the future, I went out into the garage, unwrapped it ( it was wrapped up because it had been shipped) and got in. I just wanted to get the feel for it; see how well the girls and I fit. I called the girls over and lifted Heidi in. This is where we hit a little snag. Heidi would fit in, but just barely. This is a sit-inside kayak, and there just wasn't enough room for my legs and the dogs to fit inside comfortably. Heidi was finally able to sit, but there was no way Shelby was getting in. I felt a huge wave of disappointment. I had taken a trip with the girls down the Saco river in Maine lat yearand it was WONDERFUL. As much as I enjoyed boating when I was a kid, being able to bring the dogs along made the whole experience better. It was a lot more fun. And that trip had increased my want for a kayak of my own ten-fold. Just look at these pictures!
So now that they wouldn't fit...I didn't know what to do. I did sort of have a solution, but...it was going to be hard to pull off. When I had been shopping for Christmas, I went into a sporting goods store to buy my mom some winter gear because she's the one who snow-blows (I dont know why she doesnt trust me with doing it...). That's when I saw it. The boat of my DREAMS. The "Peekaboo" kayak from "Ocean Kayak". It was a sit-on-top, so it was easier to get in and out of (especially on the water). It has a clear window cut-out directly in front of the seat; I didn't so much care about using the window to look through: it was a perfect place for Shelby to sit! She likes being close to me in the boat. I can't have her sit on my lap, because that would make paddling impossible. So there was a seat for Shelby, but what about Heidi? Well, upon further inspection it looked like Heidi was all set too! There is a "jump seat" (which means a smaller, flat seat) on the bow built right into the plastic mold of the boat. Heidi LOVES riding the bow of the boat. This would be perfect for her. This boat was everything that I wanted. I went home and looked online to see how much it ran price wise. Yeah...the retail price was about 850$ That's A LOT of money. And that's just for the boat! You still need a paddle and life-jacket! When I got the kayak from my mom for Christmas, I figured I would use it this year, and save my money to buy the other one next spring. Maybe by that time the price would have gone down.

So, that was my master plan until the other day. I would just have to paddle without the dogs for a while. But an issue still remained. How to actually move and travel with it? For that, I needed a rack for my car. My mom said that she would buy a rack for me for my birthday. So we went up to the Kittery Trading Post (http://www.kitterytradingpost.com/) to go see the racks. The rack was complicated a bit because I needed something to not only hold the boat on my car, but to help me get it up there too. We deiced on the extra piece of equipment, the Yakima ShowBoat. (http://www.yakima.com/racks/kayak-rack/product/8004040/showboat.aspx) When we got to the store and had priced the rack, I asked about a kayak dolly so that I move it easier (put in on wheels, and pull to the water!) The sales associate asked me what type of Kayak I was looking for. I told her the "peekaboo". She said "we have those here in our outside boat yard, you know". I told her that I would go look at them after we were finished there, but asked if she could tell me the price before we went down. She said that usually they ran 850$, but that they were on sale. ON SALE?? For how much?!?! She said:

599$

Are you KIDDING?!? That is two-hundred and fifty dollars off!!! I turned to my mom (who had an expression on her face that was a clear mixture of exasperation and amusement) and told her that I could NOT leave without buying this boat. I would never, EVER find this kayak this cheap. I could put half on one credit card, and the other half on another card. I was rambling this off as an incoherent babble. My mom, always the level head, said we should go and LOOK at it first, before I started whipping out my plastic. So we went outside (and then down stairs) to the outdoor boat yard. There was my baby: it was bright yellow. Yeah...I wasn't prepared for the "yellowness" of it, but at 599$ I would have loved it if it was puke green! It was on the bottom shelf so I was able to pull it out and and then see it up close. The one I had originally seen had been hanging from the ceiling of the store; I wasn't able to really get in it or handle it. I wasn't able to see or feel what 61 lbs. of kayak really felt like.

It felt heavy! Now that I could touch it, I started to pick it up and lift it over my head (as if I was putting it on my car). It was really heavy! I put it back on the ground, and got in it. It was dirty and had leaves and snow in it, but that's because it had sat around for so long. Apparently they (there were two) were on sale because they had been sitting around for months. We were told that when these two sold, they would not be replacing them. So I got in and sat down. It was perfect. Like it had been built just for me and the dogs. It was like they measured my little Shelby, and built the "window seat" just for her. And the bow was plenty big for Heidi. It had sturdy handles built in along the sides, bow and stern. Yes. I had to buy it.

My mom then brought up the subject of how to get it home. Hmmm. We had just gone to LOOK at roof racks, but now we were apparently going to buy one as well. The basic rack that my mom had planned on buying for my birthday had ballooned into the FULL kayak holding/loading rack. The very VERY expensive full kayak holding/loading rack. She said that she would put it all on her credit card and then I would pay her back so she could pay it off. She then insisted that I get a life jacket ("You are NOT buying or getting in that kayak without one!!") and then the paddle AND the dolly. I told her that all of the extras could wait; I wouldn't be able to get out on the water until at least May. There was no rush. But she said we might as well get it all now. I agreed because at least the "damage" would be done and I would know how much I was to pay back.

So we loaded everything up at the register. There was a lot of discounts offered by the KTP that helped a little. They kayak, of course had it's own huge price break. But when you buy a boat here, you get every accessory 10% off. And there were regular sales going on on some of the items as well. So although the bill shocked us both, it could have been worse (everything is relative). I will start paying an extra 100$ a month in addition to what I pay for room and board until it is payed off. Hopefully once my own credit cards are payed off, I can pay more than the measly 100 bucks.

So we left with WAY more than we planned on...you know, especially since we only planned on looking! We had my moms car, so we brought all the pieces of the rack home and will drive them back up in my car on Sunday, when it is scheduled to be installed. The kayak is still there, as we had no way to bring it home on Tuesday. It will come home with us, on my newly installed rack on Sunday too.

I still cannot believe that my mom did not only buy me one kayak, but in fact, two. The other one may be bought by a friend of hers who has also always wanted one, and this will put a small dent in the exorbant amount of money on my moms card. Or my mom may keep it so that maybe we can kayak together. I'm not sure yet what might happen to my first "best gift ever". I just hope that my mom knows how important that it is to me, even if it didn't work out exactly the way that we both wanted it to.

The fact that she bought me something that important is really...amazing. Sure, she bought me something big and expensive. But that's not why it is important or why I think it is the best gift ever. It is the meaning behind it, and the sacrifice she made to get it for me. I felt terrible knowing that I had disappointed her by not being that excited about the first kayak when she first gave it to me. I know how hard she worked to buy it, and how much time and thought she had put into selecting it out of the hundreds of kayaks out there. But I just couldn't see past my own sadness at finally having something that I wanted so badly for so long, and knowing that I might not ever be healthy enough to use it.

But my mom was different. She knew better. Yes, she was disappointed at not being able to see the pure joy and excitement on my face when I had seen it for the first time. She must have been sad that instead of seeing tears of joy she had to see tears of pain. That's obviously not what she intended or expected. But she had hope for the future. She hoped, like only a mom can, that I would get better and I would be able to get out there and enjoy something that I had wanted so badly. I'm sure that she worried that she might be wrong and I might be right and I would not get well enough to safely be out on the water, but nevertheless she had hope. And yes, it turned out that she was the one who was right (as usual). It of course took a lot of time and a lot of healing, but I did get better. And I'm continuing to get better every day.

But I have not only improved because of medical intervention. I got better because of the amazing amount of love from my mom (and dogs) on a daily basis. The patience that she has had with me while I went through all of this has truly made a difference. She let slide when I lashed out in anger because she knew that at the root of that anger was fear and sadness. She never gave up on me, even when my attitude would have driven anyone else from the house. She could always be counted on for words of encouragement (even if I was not always up to listening) and always kept a brave and positive attitude for my sake (although I know what was happening was affecting her as much as it was affecting me.) The fact that she was able to do all of this emotional stuff for me ON TOP of doing everything else is just amazing. She was able to both work and make time to take me to doctors appointments, to parks and stores so that I could walk and build/test my strength, and keep food in the house. She had time to do my taxes (thank GOD...the money from the return has been paying the bills that have already started coming!) AND allowed me to pay my other bills first and then pay her with anything that remained (this was an issue that she NEVER pushed, but I felt like I had to do something for her in return for all that she had done for me...)

She did all that for me when I was sick, and now has done something just as important for me because I am better. The kayak means so much to me already...even though I haven't even been able to use it yet! It has given me something to be really excited about. I know what this kayak is going to mean to me when I am able to use it. Its going to give me freedom; its going to let me let go of all the things that have troubled me for so long. When you're out on the water, you cant help but be in that moment. You stop worrying about work, about doctors appointments, and about the little trivial things in life. You appreciate what is going on in the present. You notice more colors in the sunset and the gentle sound of the paddle and boat slicing through the water. But there is one more thing that I'm going to be aware of while I'm out there: I'm going to ALWAYS remember that it is because of my mom that I get to enjoy all of those things I mentioned. It is because of her and her only. Her kindness, generosity, selfless-ness and belief that things would get better allowed me to enjoy something that my heart has dreamed about for years.

She has always give me so much; she has made huge sacrifices and given me things at her own expense to try and make my life better and easier. Just allowing me to continue to live in her home has been such a huge gift. But with all of her gifts comes responsibility. Although she has given without the expectation of getting anything in return, everything that she has done for me has come with a lesson. Although I live here, I am responsible for room and board, food shopping, cleaning (although she does the bathroom), taking care of the dogs (which isn't a job when you love it!) and doing my own laundry (and some of hers if it is in line). Yes, I can "defer" a little on my payment to her, but I do have to get all of my other bills taken care of and do have to pay her back eventually (again, not that SHE pushes for this, but I try and make sure it's done ASAP). And now I have a kayak. It is up to ME to take care of it, be safe on the water, and get strong enough to load/unload it and use it. It is also up to me to pay back EVERY CENT of the expense. As goD as my witness, I WILL pay it all back. Even if I put off my trip to Florida this year, I WILL pay it all back. I am willing to make sacrifices too. A lesson that of course, was taught by my mom.

I am so thankful to her for everything she has done. And not just through this illness, but through out my whole life. I am strong enough to get through it all because of the strength that she gives me. And I am able to try new things and be who I truly am because of her love, her belief in me, and her support. She's always there to offer them; No matter WHAT crazy idea I come up with!

When I first walked into my "Canine and Feline Behavior" class in college, the first thing the instructor (the woman who changed my direction and focus) said was "I have the BEST dogs in the WHOLE WORLD". Now of course the whole class immediately went into an uproar. We all were convinced that WE had the best dogs on the planet. But the instructor only said it because of the point it raised: everything is relative. We ALL can be absolutely sure that we have the best dog in the world, but no one loves your dog as much as you do. And when it comes to the people in your life, the lesson is the same. I know that everyone out there believes that they have the best mom. But I know that to argue would be pointless. My mom is the best mom to ME. I just wanted to show everyone how special she is and how important she is to me. And of course how much I love her. I do not need a kayak. I dont even need to live in a house. I could be living in a cardboard box with nothing but the clothes on my back, and my dogs as companions, but I would never stop being grateful to, or loving my mom. She's done so much more than just bring me into this world: she's made sure I haven't left yet.

Getting back to good

2009-03-05T09:54:00.000-08:00

So the verdict is in. After many MANY weeks of waiting, I can FINALLY go back to work! I called the doctor'f office on Monday (like I was supposed to) to get the results of my monitor. They weren't in (which I also expected...). So I called back Tuesday afternoon. They were in! The doctor said that I had a "significant" number of extra beats (yeah, no kidding...I felt them pounding away after all!) I had a lot of premature atrial contractions, but no prolonged tachycardia. I did not have any ventricular tachycardia...which is good, because that can be deadly. (Especially when you only have one ventricle!) As of right now, the only thing he said to do was just slightly up my morning dose of medication. I can't up or change it too much, because my blood pressure is so low. (It usually runs less than 100). I'm going to see him in a few weeks, and hopefully by then he will have some other options for me. In the mean time, I can go back to work (yay!!) He really wasn't thrilled about me driving, but as it is only 15 minutes away, I know the drive well and promised to drive safely, he said I could drive there. I still don't think I'm supposed to drive any where else for a while. I can probably drive to Lowell for the River Walk, but I'm sure I'm not supposed to go much further than that.
This, right now, isn't a problem. The weather is still quite cold (although we're expecting 50's+ this weekend!) and I don't want to be out in the woods somewhere with the dogs and then run into trouble. So for right now, we'll stick with the river walk. As every day goes by, I can do a little bit more and get a little bit stronger. I know that going back to work will wear me out, but hopefully it will make me stronger in the long run as well.
So, what does going back to work mean for us all? It means that I can get back into life's groove; get back on a regular schedule and back out into the real world. But going back to work has repercussions for life outside of work too. I'll no longer be home with my dogs ALL DAY. Their routines are going to change quite a bit too. But I don't want them to change too drastically. I have really enjoyed the daily things that we've been able to do together (while being trapped in the house) and don't want to change that just because I'll be gone from the house for 35 hours a week now. I'm going to try and make sure that we still get to do all of those special things; before or after work. I might not be able to do them all everyday, but...I'd still like to try. They're just little things, but they've definitely brought both me and the girls closer. They are things that we both enjoy. And not only am I going to be disappointing them by now leaving them every day for hours at a time, but try to take those things away too? I owe it to them to try and make sure that those little things still happen. They have done so much for me over the past few weeks; they deserve to still have special time with me when I get home from and before I go to work.
So I'm going to not only try and get the little things in (like brushing them every day, playing ball in the hallway until we can get out in the yard, etc.) but we're going to get some bigger special things in as well. When I was working before, my days off were Friday and Saturday. I'm hoping with every fiber of my being that these days don't change. It was nice because I would have one whole day to get everything necessary done (cleaning, food shopping, laundry etc.) and then the second day would be "doggy day". This was a special day where we did something or went somewhere we couldn't on the other days of the week. We would spend hours at the beach, drive to the mountains for a day of hiking and swimming, or go to a dog show. It was a really nice routine that we had; something really fun and special for all of us. I'm excited that I'll be able to do that stuff again. Spending so much time with the girls has been a really good and life changing experience. I've been shown how important we are to each other; how important they are to my health, healing, and sanity! I want to make sure that they are NEVER taken for granted and that they always feel special.
I know that going back to work is going to take some getting used to. For not only my body, but my mind too. I know that I will come back really tired for the first few weeks, and that I may not be able to anything too grand too quickly. But I'm OK with this; I think I would be having a harder time if it were warmer and I was able to drive further. Knowing that it was the first 60+ degree day and I could drive the 45 minutes to the beach would be torture for me if I didn't feel up to making and enjoying the trip because I was too fatigued. So hopefully this strengthening process with take me right up until the time when the warm weather does arrive and when I can travel extra distance it takes to bring us to our favorite places.

But something that is making the wait a little less easy to take, is something that happened the other day. My mom did something...a little crazy. And she did it for me.

I have wanted a kayak since I was probably 10 or 11 years old. I used to spend summers at my grandfathers camper in a really nice park on a lake in New Hampshire. I used to spend the long lazy days out on the water, both swimming and kayaking. It was absolute BLISS; heaven to a young girl who wanted to just escape the pressures of being a pre-teen and worrying about things that were important back then: boys, music and clothes. I just got to be alone with my own thoughts and really focus on what I wanted for MY future, without the input of my somewhat biased friends. Even back then, all I wanted to do was learn and think about dogs. I closed this love off for a while because it was an uncool subject to be interested in. Only when I was able to get into college did I really become comfortable with who I really was and what the passion was that was driving me. Those summers in New Hampshire let me be me for just a little while; it was liberating not having to pretend I was someone that I really wasn't. Trying to hide who you are and be something that you are not is exhausting. Although I still struggle with the insecurity of being a "loner" and being "different" because I spend my free time at agility class instead of bars, watch "It's me or the dog" instead of "The Bachelor", and spend more time and effort on my dogs diet than my own, I do feel more comfortable with who I really am. And that's been helped along by truly great friends (who actually ask me how my girls are...they acknowledge that they are MY kids!) and of course, my mom.

I didn't want this post to be too long, so In my next one I'll let you know just how much my mom knows me; what she has done for me and what she has given me...even if she doesn't know it.

Change of seasons, change of heart

2009-03-02T13:48:00.000-08:00

The side yard: Friday

The same side yard: yesterday

The side yard one more time: today

I think Mother Nature must have a wicked sense of humor. Apparently she thinks its funny to tease people with beautiful warm spring temperatures one day, and then smack us with icy cold winter ones the next. Keep in mind that while you are out frolicking (or tossing around a frisbee) on those warm days, Mother Nature is plotting against you. She is bringing together several weather systems that, when joined, make up a huge mass of mess. And that mess is heading right for you. What, you may be asking, is the problem here? I mean, April (or in this case, March) showers bring May flowers right? Well that would be case if the huge storm steaming up the east coast right was bringing RAIN SHOWERS. But, alas. The storm headed for us here in New England is bringing snow. LOTS AND LOTS OF SNOW. It is forecast that we are supposed to be getting 10-15 INCHES! And Methuen, where Im located, is going to be right in the middle.

This isnt a storm that blankets ski country in Northern Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont. This also isnt strictly a coastal storm that slams into the Cape and Islands. No, this storm is supposed to wallop us here in Massachusetts and Rhode Island. The "strike zone" runs from Rhode Island up through central Mass and Boston, to the North Shore, Merrimack Valley, and Southern New Hampshire. The Shelties and I live in that snow-belt: North of Boston; the boundary between the Merrimack Valley and North shore; on the border New Hampshire.

Yeah. Just our luck I guess. I mean, Im not saying that I wish this bohemouth of a storm on anyone else. Lord knows we've all had enough of the winter weather. But this is getting just a bit ridiculous. I mean, I understand that it is only March 1st and we've technically got a few more weeks of winter to go. (The groundhog did see his shadow this year, right??) But I think every one is pretty sick of the winter. Everyone is sick of getting up and shoveling, spreading ice melt, and driving behind plows on the highway. Everyone is sick of the cold temperatures that bite at any skin left exposed between layers and layers of clothes. The dogs are sick of wading through chest height cold white soup, getting ice and snow balls tangled in their hair, and having to wear booties. They dont like being this inactive. And maybe, for me anyways, this is where the root of the problem lies.

This winter has been tough. For obvious reasons. Im usually pretty active in the winter, which in turn, means the girls are pretty active too. We usually enjoy our winter walks on packed paths through the woods and fields. We never go out when it is really bitterly cold, but on the milder days, we can usually always be found out of doors enjoying our strolls. But this year we've been essentially house (and hospital) bound. The few times that we have been able to get out and about have just been within the past few weeks. Other than that, we've pretty much been winter shut ins.

I think that this is really why I am feeling so sick of winter. I cant ever remember being "fed up" with a season before. I mean, I LOVE living in New England. The change of seasons here are unlike any where else. Usually one season dominates another. Sure, people in Alaska may see spring, summer and fall, but they are usually all rolled into one brief interlude between winters. And in places like Florida, theres only one season with slight temperatire fluctuations that give you variations of that season; that season being summer. In New England though, we see every single change of season with really bright and predictable differences. In winter we get cold temperatures and snow. Sure, some years it is colder and snowier than others, but every winter is fairly the same. Temps that range from the balmy 40's to the bone chilling minus teens. Then comes spring. Spring brings the milder temperatures and warmer breezes. The beginning of spring brings the surplus of water from winters thaw and April's showers. The end of spring brings the really nice warmth that allows you to spend all day outside, and the renewal of life. The trees become full again and the flowers bloom so fast and so bright, that the previous world of gloom and gray is suddenly transformed into a bright world of color. Then spring changes almost imperceptiably into summer. The start of summer brings warmer weather, but this warmer air is still laden with the perfumed scent of springs still blooming flowers. As the temperatures continue to rise, the real fun begins. Swimming in any kind of water you can find: pools in back yard, lakes and streams in the mountains, and in the ocean at the beach. All of the other really fun outdoor activities can restart too: biking, kayaking, and hiking. True, just like with winter, the exteme temperatures of summer can grow tiring as well. By then end of summer you are bored with and sick of the really blistering hot dog days of August, but just as you are growing weary of it, summer changes to fall. Fall truly is a season that may not be able to be fully descibed here. I just may not be able to give the season the justice it deserves. The temperatures cool back down again, but dont immediately get cold; only more comfortable. You can shut of the air-conditioners and throw your windows open wide. The walks can grow longer and more frequent now that your not having to go at odd hours like in the early morning or late evening to avoid the heat. Although the leaves on the trees and shrubs are nearing the end of their life's cycle, they really come alive. The cooler temperatures allow the foliage to explode with color: the rich red, orange and yellow hues paint everything that the eye can see. The whole landscape is transformed. People from all over the world come to see YOUR beautiful back yard. It really is something truly amazing to behold. This is the season when you are most grateful to live here in New England. But before you can get really used to and comfortable with the season, it changes once again. The end of fall sees the cool temperatures plummit into COLD temperatures. The beautiful colored leaves continue to wither and then fall away. The landscape once again becomes barren; but it still retains a certain beauty about it. The sunsets become earlier, and the skies become grayer: a sign of the snow and winter to come.

Although every season has it's own beauty and magic to it, once the novelty of the season has worn off, some of its charm starts to wear away too. And of course other things happening in life can affect your feelings about a season as well. This season has been hard not only on me, but on a lot of people out there. On his Bedlam Farm blog, author Jon Katz has been writing on this very subject for almost the whole of this winter. The tough economic times, changing world around us and our own personal situations have become a cause for great concern for us all. We find ourselves worrying more; living in fear of what is to come. When will the other shoe drop? What is to become of us all? I think that the bleakness of winter and the inability to occupy our time with more positive activities has lead us down a path of more anxiety about turbulance and turmoil that has surrounded us. But there is hope.

Spring will find us. It will come to us all. It is Natures way of reminding us that there are still things to look forward to. If we can just get through the gray murkiness of where we are now, we will find ourselves in a much better, warmer and more colorful place. And again, this is both in terms of the seasons and in our lives. If we put everything into perspective, we will stop worrying so much about the future, but be able to look at it with a more positive eye. We will be able to get back to basics, and really find out what is most important to each of us. If we can just get through this next winter storm, and look at the beauty of the snow as it falls and decorates our landscape for perhaps the last time this year, we will be able to appreciate it (instead of laothe it). And when the warmth and hope of spring finally does come, we will be able to appreciate that more too.

So Im going to try and keep my spiritis up through these last few weeks of winter. Hopefully the start of spring will also see the restart of my life. I'll hopefully be able to get back to work and ease a little bit of my economic worry. And just as the warmer weather arrives, I'll also hopefully be able to really get out and enjoy that too. But in the mean time, Im going to enjoy the flakes as they fall today, and really marvel in the beauty that will hopefully be the last of winter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**For any one who has missed seeing the Shelties in this post, fear not! Here are some pictures of the girls on our recent walks; the one taken with the grass was on Friday (temps in the 50's!!) and the snowy ones were taken last night before the snow started to really fall and pile up (when I wrote this blog). The girls ask if you could kindly refrain from laughing at them in their coats and booties. They wear them to protect from the snow and ice. (And sand and salt used to treat the public path; which is why they're wearing them in the picture from Friday too!) I also apologize for the bright lights in the pictures (those would be the reflective strips on their booties, caught in the flash!) and the "Scarey eyes" on the girls (also due to the stupid flash). And as of right now, we probably have about 10 inches or so...I havent been brave enough to actually go out and measure!

Heidi sporting the latest Sheltie winter-wear

A picture of Shelby doing what Shelties do on lazy snow-days. "Im sorry, did you just ask me if I wanted to go out? In THAT??"

Birthday Surprises...

2009-02-28T14:38:00.000-08:00

Does that title sound familiar? It might if you're a "Harry Potter" fan. It is the title of chapter 18 in "The Half-Blood Prince". If you haven't read the book, beware! Spoilers ahead! The chapter is about how Ron, Harry's best friend, gets poisoned by accident on his birthday. Thankfully, he makes it. You're probably wondering why on Earth I'm bringing this chapter up, as it sounds pretty horrifying. Don't worry, no one gets poisoned...

Yesterday was Shelby's birthday. She turned the big 0-6 yesterday! I cant believe that my "little one" is 6! It seems like she will always be "the baby" to me...

We started the day with our requisite snuggle in bed before getting up. I told her Happy Birthday over and over, but I did not sing. I did not want to hurt her ears on her special day! I usually don't make a huge deal out of the girls birthdays; I don't throw parties for them and their doggy friends (partly because they're so snobby!) and I usually don't go overboard with buying them lots of things. Now if there is something that they need (OK, let be honest...something that I want and have had my eye on for a while...) I will buy it under the guise of it being "for their Birthday". There is one tradition, however, that we honor every year for each of their birthdays: we always go to the doggie bakery for some special goodies.

You're probably shocked that I, the anal retentive Sheltie-Mom who feeds a specialized raw diet on a very strict schedule, would feed my dogs something from a doggie bakery. But come on. To quote Jell-o, "every one needs a little wiggle room". It's their birthday! They deserve something special.

For Shelby's birthday, which again was yesterday (February 27th), we go to the doggie bakery that is close to home. "The Barkery" opened up in Tewksbury (my home town) a few years ago and we've been going ever since. They make everything on premises and use only human grade ingredients. (In fact, some of their stuff is REALLY good...I only nibble on a cookie or two!) They make doggie birthday cakes and a full bakery counter with canine canoli's, baked apple pies and decorated cookies. If you'd like to check it out, here is the link: www.thebarkeryonline.com/ We ended up getting two canine cupcakes (in place of a real cake) and two "Lucky Dog" frosted shamrock cookies. Oh, and a party hat for the birthday girl. (I snuck that in when both girls were fogging up the glass while they stared fixedly at the goodies inside...) Now, I admit that my girls aren't very picky when it comes to food. They'll eat anything that stays still long enough. I always tell people that if they mashed up cardboard and made it look like their thawed-raw then my girls would eat it. But they do seem to have more enthusiasm for some things; their raw for example. But the doggie bakery tends to bring out a whole new side of them. They become wide-eyed crazed demons, with the salivatory capabilities of a Newf on a hot August day. They go nuttier than squirrel poo. I mean, I know some people who have this same reaction when they walk into human bakeries. Trust me. My mom has worked in one for over 21 years; and I was suckered into working there for a little while too. Ive seen that wild look in peoples eye when they smell the fresh hot bread or baking cookies. It's SCARY.

Anyways, for Heidi's birthday it's a little different. Well, the routine isn't different, just the location. It seems like every year for Heidi's birthday, which is July 1st, we're away camping. But we always find our way to the dog store and bakery in North Conway, "Four Your Paws Only" (www.fouryourpawsonly.com/). Now this bakery doesn't make all of their stuff on premises, but it too is all hand made with human grade ingredients. And we can get "Yoghund" frozen yogurt there, which is a little more welcome by hot Shelties in July. We usually end up leaving with both ice cream AND cookies. (And then we go across the street to the 5 and Dime store to get me some fudge!)

So even though we don't usually hold a party, their birthdays are still pretty special. Their bellies feel pretty special anyways! And that brings me to the title of the blog, and it's relation to Chapter 18. I got Shelby ready to celebrate her big day: I put on her very special "It's my paw-ty Birthday Hat! Needless to say, she wasn't happy. In fact, she was pretty miserable. And of course it was made worse by her evil mother taking pictures of her to put here:

Once the "OHMYGODIAMSOPATHETICLOOKING" faces were over (I TOLD you she was a master at looking pitiful...) she decided that she would turn to her sister for help. Maybe Heidi would assist in ridding her of this feather trimmed cardboard piece of shame. But no such luck. However, with the promise of birthday cupcakes, her mood lifted significantly. No surprises there. So I had them sit while I carefully

(and tantalizingly) placed each of their frosted treats in front of them. I had enough time to snap this picture before I released them; I was erring on the side of caution: both dogs were vibrating with hungry excitement, and I wanted to make sure that they didn't explode!

However things started to go wrong when I said "OK" which told them that it was time to eat. Shelby, no doubt using her "Its MY birthday and I can have what ever I want!" card, proceeded to CUT ACROSS her sister (very rudely, might I add...) and STEAL HER CUPCAKE! I had to quickly intervene to make sure that Shelby (being the speed-eater that she is) didn't wolf down her (previously Heidi's) cupcake and go back in for the other one! I snatched that cupcake up and gave it to Heidi. Shelby in the mean time had peeled off her frosting and was chewing the dense little cake so furiously that tiny bits rained on the floor. I checked back with Heidi. Heidi's always had problems eating. She seems to be laboring under the delusion that she has no teeth. She LICKS everything. It's a good thing their raw food is very soft after its thawed; she licks every bit of it. When I give them raw bones, it takes her HOURS to eat them because she tries licking the meat from the bone. (Which, for obvious reasons isn't that successful.) The only things that she does seem to chew are bully-springs and MY CLOTHES. I have had many socks perforated by her "non-existent" teeth. So I watched her pretty close to make sure that she was in fact trying to eat it, and not just lick it to death.

She was, in fact, trying to figure out how the heck to eat this thing. Finally, after many minutes of softening it up with Heidi spit, she was able to eat it. This is when the second bout of trouble started. She kept breaking off little pieces, swallow them, and would then stop eating. I couldn't figure out what was going on; why would she stop eating this seemingly delicious snack half way through? I kept picking up the pieces and offering them to her, to encourage her to finish eating them. I told her that if she didn't finish them, then Shelby would. She ate a few more, and then could be persuaded no more. I decided to let Shelby have the rest. I got a few pictures of Shelby snatching up the crummies off the flood before I rechecked on Heidi. That's when I noticed something was wrong. She was standing stiff and still, but seemed both hunched and diminished at the same time. She was kind of gagging; not coughing or sputtering, but clearly trying to unstick something. I made sure she was breathing and then thumped her hard on the back. I thumped and thumped, and then tried the doggie Heimlich. That's when she started retching. Suddenly a thick, white foam started bubbling in her mouth. She spit some of it out onto the floor and I could see a hunk of cupcake in it. But she was still not right. Her eyes were liquidy and seemed to be sparkling with tears. I thumped harder and heaved her stomach again. More and more frothy white foam laced with cupcake. Finally after the third batch was hurled up, she started to look and act better. She was able to move and walk around.

I stopped panicking and calmed down; I was not going to have to rush her to work (the veterinarian) to get her checked. She was improving. I offered her some water and she turned away from it. I begged her to take a drink; "do it for mummy" I pleaded...and she took a few laps. She stopped again, and I knew that she still wasn't 100% Suddenly Shelby's attack dog instincts kicked in when she heard someone on our street. She started barking in her her big-dog scary voice, and ran to the window. That's when Heidi joined in: jumping and barking right alongside her sister. I knew she would be fine.

She took a few more sips of water, and let out a VERY un-ladylike belch, and has been OK ever since. It was a scary moment there, for a minute. What started out as happy birthday celebrations quickly turned into a tense, white knuckle situation. Luckily, just like with Ron, everything turned out OK. Shelby was even able to finish looking for crummies:

Just as an afterthought, (in case anyone is wondering) things with me have been pretty quiet. I was able to see some friends this week, thanks to their willingness to share their free time to hang out with me. It was nice to talk about other things and hear what was going on in other peoples lives, rather than sitting and always thinking about my own circumstance.

I've also spent quite a bit of time planning for a trip that I'm planning to take in October. My best friend since the age of four is getting married in Miami (on a cruise ship!) this year. I took two weeks off of work to drive down there with the girls. Its been fun finding neat things to do both down and back along the east coast during that time; I'm really looking forward to seeing so many great things with my kids. More on the trip to come!!

Well, that's it for now. I've got to go and check on the Shelties. I've got to make sure that they're still not high on birthday cupcake. You know what they say about too much of a good thing...

Who needs whom?

2009-02-24T17:39:00.001-08:00

So today was the day. They day to see the doctor, and to get a progress report. I was nervous because although I fell better, I certainly do not yet feel 100%. But I definitely feel well enough to go back to work. I wanted to make sure that I got that particular point across. (I sure am sick of sitting at home...but of course it has been made easier by the unwavering companionship of my girls.) We waited for a little while for my name to be called, and after what seemed like forever, we finally were ushered in. In general, the appointment started off pretty good. I explained that I was doing better with my breathing, and had started walking. He then asked me all of the routine things: meds, anything else going on, etc. This is where we hit the snag. I explained that my palpitations were getting worse. I had complained about them during our previous visits, and during the time that I spent in the hospital. They showed up every time on the monitor as PVC's (premature ventricular contractions). No one seemed to be worried at that point. But at mentioning them this time, he became fairly concerned. He asked me to describe them. I told him that it felt like my heart was pounding; not in a fast, racy way, but in a smacking-against-my-sternum kind of way. I told him that they were AWFUL. Yes, they were enough to effect my life. If I was doing something and they started, then I would definitely focus on them and less on the task at hand. They were bothering me so much the other night that I took my meds early because they were POUNDING so hard. And it doesn't matter what I'm doing. They occur at rest, and both during and after activity. They occur when it is 9:00 in the morning, 12:30 in the afternoon or at 7:45 at night. They're definitely feeling stronger and occurring a lot more often.

As he was doing his exam, he said that I had described them perfectly. He said that what I was feeling was essentially what was happening. OK, good. I'm glad that he knows what they are. Or does he? He is the type of doctor who likes to have EVERY base covered. (Which is why he ordered an echo before my 2nd cath to rule out a possible clot. After the echo that pretty much cleared that problem, he still went in through my neck to make absolutely sure that there really truly was nothing there. Yeah, he is nothing if not thorough.) So he decided he would attach a Holter-Montitor for 24 hours (which I'm wearing right now.) I have to write in a journal when I eat, sleep, feel anything and do any type of activity. I then have to turn it in as soon as I can. This last part is pretty important, because at the end of the visit when I was checking out and making my plans for the next follow up appt (8 weeks from now) I was told that no, I CANNOT go back to work until we figure out what this arrhythmia is. He was also really adamant about me still not driving. He wants to make sure that I do not suffer some sort of episode and pass out. Yeah. That thought was comforting. But at least we're going to get to the bottom of it. For me, these palpitations have been tougher to deal with, and a bit scarier than even the shortness of breath. I FEEL these in a very strong, and annoyingly painful way. And they worry me because these are coming directly from THE HEART. They're not some blood clot in my leg that MIGHT later be dangerous; not extra vessels branching from a vein on its WAY to my heart. This IS my heart. And to have it feel like it is pounding so much and working so hard is scary. As I type this right now, the palpitations are RAGING. Good for the monitor, I guess...

So, after I got the not so good news of being out even LONGER, I went to work to let them know. They were, once again, very understanding. They told me to make sure that I was continuing to heal, and to come back when I was healthy and ready. I am really thankful and lucky to be able to work for a really understanding company, and with such kind people. With their understanding and help, I have really been able to worry less about the goings on at work and how I was "screwing" everyone over, and more on getting better so that I could come back well. AND they not only check in on me, but on everyone in our family; they always ask about how my mom and girls are. It's really sweet, and it is really appreciated.

But on that note, I've realized lately how lonely I am. I mean, I know that I have amazing friends and family, but no one is living in a disease with you. Of course what ever illness your trying to get through effects everyone around you; my mom, extended family, friends and job are all examples of that. But to actually be dealing with your bodies shortcomings and breakdowns day in and day out is really taxing on your mind and spirit. I generally am able to keep both positive and upbeat but on some days (days like today, for example) I just find myself feeling pretty alone and a little down. Especially when I need to walk away from my friends at work, or watch my mom walk out the door without me.

I'm sure that lots of people feel this way. And that's because you cannot possibly tell the people in your life everything. Although they would never admit it, if you were to tell them every emotion that you felt, or shared with them every thought or opinion that sprung to mind, they would quickly grow weary of your company. Your relationships would be worn so thin that they would eventually snap. And it is certainly not anyones fault. Everyone is just trying to get through the things tossed into the path of their own lives. Everyone is just trying to make the most of the time that we are given. So, when the people who love you most in life are busy with their own things, between your emergencies and when you really need them, what do you do with all of these feelings? You can either bottle them up, tell your therapist who is trained (and paid!) to make sense of it all, or you confide in your pets.

As I've said before, this particular time dealing with sickness has taught me a lot. It has really opened my eyes and my heart to things that I had been previously been missing out on. And my girls have definitely helped me in this area most of all. You see, dogs don't have their own lives to be getting back to when yours has been "stabilized". YOU are their whole lives. They not only depend on you for everything that keeps them alive, but they also want to be with you more than they want anything else in the world. And that bond is not only because you are the one holding the dish of food. It is because they are love. Pure love. If you lost everything and found yourself living in a cardboard box and suddenly there was no filled food bowls to be found, your dog would still stick by your side. Because they are all love. All the time. They give you the whole of their beings. All of their hearts. All of their souls. And they ask for very little in return. As fickle, unpredictable and temporary as people are, pets are always honest, constant, and permanent. They are a true gift. And for me, a reason to keep going.

But I wonder if I am putting too much of my problems and stress on my dogs. I wonder if I am burdening them emotionally; I know that I am leaning on them more heavily now than ever. My relationships with them have become more intense; which is both therapeutic and terrifying. On one hand, they are the perfect therapists: they will never take what you told them in strict confidence, and throw it back in your face during a fight; they will never think your crazy; and they will never share your secrets with another living soul. But although they are helping me emotionally and spiritually, there are just some things that they cannot, and will not ever be able to do. This is when the fear sets in. Although our relationships with dogs are as intimate (or maybe more intimate) than our relationships with the closest people in our lives, our dogs dependence comes back to haunt us. Not only will they not be able to drive you to a hospital, sit with you while you lay sick in your bed, or offer you encouragement before a major procedure, but they will sometimes make the already difficult situation a little more complex. Some one will need to take on the duty of caring for them while you are unable to. You are now depending on people: friends, family and strangers (doctors and nurses) for support both in the hospital and out. It is a tough pill to swallow. The beings that fill in the "love void" when all of those people are busy leading their own lives (and rightly so) in between the crises that arise, are suddenly banned from your side. Even if you are in a small local hospital that allows the patients pets to visit, there will still be limitations. Your dogs cannot drive; they will need a ride to and from their visit. They also will not be able to stay all day; even if the hospital were to permit it, you may be to weak or unstable to be taking care of their potty needs.

So what are we, myself and the people in similar positions, to do? On one hand, we find ourselves drawing more closely and becoming more dependant on our pets, but on the other we are unable to truly have them close by when we truly need them. It seems to be a delicate balance; a balance that I am really struggling to find. I have never been able to be really close to people. Even friends that I have had for years I have drifted from. It seems that once the physical distance grows, the emotional distance does too. And I know that I alone am to blame for this ever growing rift. I feel uncomfortable and unreachable by people because I feel so different and out of place. My interests vary so greatly from my other friends that I find myself in a heightened state of anxiety when I am with them and unable to really be myself. The person who wants to talk dogs. The person who wants to talk about MY dogs. Again, I know that this is all crazy. My true friends and close family would of course listen to all I have to say. I know that they do love me for who I am. But the social anxiety that I have when I feel like people are making fun of me, or not taking me seriously is enough to induce a panic attack.

I just want to be able to explain to people why I love my dogs in such a way. It's often a hard conversation to have. It is hard to articulate your points on "dog love" when you have people sneaking skeptical looks or trying to vaguely disguise smirks as you speak; or at least it's hard when you feel like that's what they're doing. (But I have already written enough on this. See "Black Sheep" post.) So I blog. I put down my thoughts and feelings on an internet page that will allow people to see them, and then let them decide if they want to keep reading them or not. Anonymity at it's finest. No rejection. No harsh words or rolled eyes. I'm finding the writing, posting, and sharing of the blog world almost as therapeutic as sharing with my girls. Almost. As soon as the computer becomes fuzzy and can curl up with me on the couch, then maybe the rewards will start coming close to those I get when I spend time with my dogs. Until then, I will continue to love my dogs, heal and keep learning life's lessons; no matter how difficult they may be. And I of course will be ever grateful to the people and dogs who continue to CHOSE to spend their time with me; of course they do not have to. But knowing that there are beings that make the decision to remain in your life and in your presence is a really powerful and awesome feeling. Love is love. Whether it be "dog love" or love from the people in your life, their love is all you need.

Cardiac Rehab: Walking my dogs

2009-02-23T06:38:00.000-08:00

So, here I sit. Once again on the couch, typing on the computer, with the T.V. on in the background. Everything that has been realatively familiar to me for the past five weeks. I say realatively familiar, because where I spent so much time in the hospital, I have to be honest and admit that being there is pretty familar too. When I got home from my first, quite lengthy stay, I felt like I had some twisted version of Stockholm-Syndrome. It felt as if I had forgotten how to function in my own home. I missed the people who were my captors (very kind doctors and nurses). Instead of being monitored by both machines and caring people 24 hours a day, I was now alone. Instead of having meal choices offered on a menu, I had to decide what to eat. And then I had to make it. No more deliveries of food between 8 and 9, noon and 1, and 5 and 6. It was an odd feeling; not remembering my life before being hospitalized. But one thing brought me back to the reality of being home. Well, two things I should say. My two dogs. I had to snap out of it pretty quick in order to take care of these two beings who depended on me so. I had to remember that they also needed to be fed. I had to get up and prepare their food too and then make sure that I fed it to them in a timely manner. (I probably would have fed them breakfast at noon time if I wasn't forcing myself to pay better attention.) And they also had to go outside. Now, they had been forced to hold it for quite a while while I was in the hospital. My mom was trying to get a little bit of work in, and because I was having so many prceedures and meeting with so many different doctors, she was spending most of her remaining time with me down in Boston. She wanted to make sure that she didn't miss anything. Although I ALWAYS kept my girls needs in mind ("mom, you fed them at 7 am, they probably need to go out soon", or "it's really late and the'yre probably really hungry for dinner"), no matter what was going on with me. My mom was worried about her child in the hospital, but I was worried about MY children at home. But there were still a few days that their needs were put on hold perhaps longer than they should have been. On days when I was in surgery, my mom needed to be with me before, during and after the procedure, in case something went wrong. But no matter how long they were left alone, they never had an accident. Never got into anything inappropriate, or chewed anything out of boredom. They were perfect angels; as was my mom who went home every day and not only took care of their basic needs (letting them outside and feeding them) but she also played games with them too.
So because they were really reliable and good, when I got home I had to remember that just because they COULD hold it for a longer time than some, didn't mean that I should let them do it. I had to make sure that I was taking care of them, because they had immediately started taking such good care of me. And they still are. Right now, as I type this, I have both snuggling with me on the couch. Now, Heidi isn't much of a snuggler. She's usually much more comfortable on the floor, in her crate, or on her memory foam bed. But when she does come up and sit on the couch with me and Shelby, she pushes her body right along mine, lies down so that I can feel the warmth and pressure of her body right through the thickest blanket I may have on, and sighs deeply. Im not sure if she knows just how comforting that this is for me. I think she does, which is why she still does it. I pet her, and tell her how she's such a precious angel, and how pretty she is. And when she isn't up on the couch snuggling, Shelby can usually always be counted on. For a very special hour yesterday, She curled up in a "Shelby ball" on the other side of the couch, and I had my arm draped across the cushion so that I could pet her while I read. She shifted her position just so that my arm was the curled into the ball as well: she had placed her paw and leg over my arm, and rested her head and neck on it too. Again, just the loving warmth that I felt her giving me was glorious. I immediately felt relaxed, and made sure that I wasnt moving too much, as to not disturb her.

So here I have sat, day after day, with both dogs keeping me sane and upbeat. But tomorrow this all may change. I am hopeful that it will, but at the same time fearful of how much "adjusting time" I'll need to get back to reality again. Tomorrow is the day that I see my cardiologist, and I have every expectation that he is going to let me go back to work next week. Now, I'm sure that I will go back either part time or with some restrictions, but just the ability to go back is a little overwhelming. I'll be leaving the comfort and familiarity of my home and my girls, and going back out into the real world. A world that will suddenly become completely open to me once more. Driving. Work. Walks. The thought is both incredably uplifting and terrifying at the same time. Needless to say, I'm a bit nervous about how tomorrow will go.

But, as money makes the world go round, as much as I fear it, I do need to go back to work. The medical bills have started coming in, but not the money to pay them. Luckily I have good insurance, and have had some money saved to keep me afloat while I've been out. And of course, because of my mother (I told you she was a Saint!) has helped out quite a bit: driving me back and forth from doctors offices and hospitals and fronting the money for gas and the parking fees. And I can't forget keeping food in the house! Now it is time for me to retake my responsibility and start earning my keep. My mom will need to be repayed, bills will need to be taken care of, and my girls will need to eat. (Luckily I bought their frozen food about a week before this all started, so the freezer has been well stocked while my mom was taking care of them. (No need for her to blend tripe!) So as nerve wracking as going back to work will be, I might as well start preparing myself for the return, right? I'll need to start figuring out what I can do so that I can tell the doctor in what capacity I can return.

Now, what better way to get up and moving than walking my dogs? I wanted to start by doing the river-walk a few towns over from us. The walk is a nicely level, paved path with the Merrimack river flowing on one side, and a stretch of grass dotted with trees on the other. It is well lit at night, when we would probably be going, with old fashioned iron post lamps. It's a nice walk; easy. A good place to start. Unfortunately when I had this brilliant idea, it was the night that I decided to make the inconvenient trip to the ER for uncontrolled bleeding. And then the next night, it was way to cold and windy for us to take that stroll for the first time. I still wanted to walk somewhere though. I spent a while trying to think of somewhere we could walk that was indoors; somewhere large enough for me to really get moving, and somewhere that would allow dogs. The mall was out. But what about the big-box pet stores? Those are pretty big and of course allowed dogs. My mom thought it was a good idea, and took us that night to PetSmart. I like petSmart. It just seems less like a warehouse than Petco. The first lap we made around the store was for shopping purposes. I went there not only for exercise, but with a purpose of buying a specific toy for Heidi. Our Blogger friend "Cosi" at "Shelties 4Us" said that this was his favorite toy because it was a ball that he could tug. So, I decided maybe Heidi would like it too. Shelby plays with toys too, but it is at her discretion. Where Heidi will pick up ANYTHING that she can play with, Shelby really has to be in the mood to play. Granted when she IS in the mood, she usually has a blast and ends up just as exhausted as Heidi.

So, we found our "Holey Ball" and continued to walk. About half way through our time there, we ran into another pair of Shelties. A blue merle and another Sable. Both were super sweet and close to Heidi and Shelby's ages. After a good round of "Sheltie sniff-butt", we went out seperate ways. (After I got in some additional Sheltie pats and snuggles, of course.) We continued walking, and I didnt have that bad of a time. I was tired after, but what can you expect from your first baby-steps, right? I certainly wasn't having as difficult of a time breathing as I thought I would. So, it was good! We got out; we walked. And I was eager to try again.

So the next night, we finally were able to take our river-walk. It was still a bit cold and windy, so I decided to go well prepared. I wanted to make sure that I would be able to go as long as I could, as far as I could, without having the cold stopping me before my body did. I also wanted to make sure that the girls were comfortable too. I put on their "Mutt-Luk" booties (I don't know what they use to sand and salt that path, so I wanted to be careful) and put on their fleece coats too. I wanted to make sure that the wind that was still a little biting didn't get through their double Sheltie coats. I know, I know. A little excessive? Maybe. But it made me feel better about bringing them with my for my 2nd round of cardiac rehab walking. So we got there, all bundled up, and we walked. The walk away from the car was beautiful; we were walking into the last light of the setting sun. Those vibrant oranges, reds and pinks were blending beautifully with the deep star strewn blue that was rapidly taking over. My "new" eyes brought me these pictures that before I might not have fully appreciated. And then my other senses sprung awake too. I could hear the soft padding of my girls bootie covered feet on the path, and I felt the cool breeze play lightly across the little bit of skin still exposed on my face. Everything felt great. And sharing it with my girls was wonderful.

Now this walk wasn't just about my recovery. I was also worried about how the girls would do because it was their first real exercise in a while too. I was especially concerned about Heidi. She had some type of shoulder injury that has since caused many of the joints in that leg to become arthritic. This is what stopped her from jumping: ending her agility career, and preventing her from reaching the upper levels of Obedience. (See "NADAC: the career saver" post.) So I was trying to keep my eye on her too. Make sure that she didn't become too fatigued or painful in that leg; usually noticable because she starts pacing instead of maintaining a normal gait.
But I was surprised to see how far we could make it. I did have to stop twice to take breaks on the benches that were strewn along the path, but I made it quite a long way. And although my breathing wasn't exaclty as easy as it should be, and in no way was it back to normal, I really did feel pretty good. The girls were WONDERFUL. They kept a pretty brisk pace, and checked back frequently to urge me along. I had them hooked up to flexi leads, (which I normally hate and only recommend for certain situations: situations where there are no other dogs or people around who can become tangled in the dangerously thin cord) which allowed them to be ahead of me with the freedom to keep driving forward, and the safety of still being on leash. (There is a busy, 4 lane road after the grassy knoll on the non-river side of the path.) I also wanted to make sure they didnt hit any joggers up for snacks, although the path that night was pretty deserted.

There is a boat house almost all the way at the end of the path where the regatta boats are kept. We almost made it there, but I figured that I still had to walk back, so I shouldn't push us too hard. We took that second break and walked back. After the turn back is when I started to feel fatigued. My legs were tired and felt as if I had just hit the stair-master for an hour. But the girls were great. They just turned right around, and drove me all the way back. Heidi slowed up her pace a little at first, as she tends to shut down on our walk back if I cue her that we're going back to the car. But I didn't cue her at all this time, and my ears were once again filled with that "tap tap tap tap" of their boots on the pavement. All the while she kept up the same brisk, driving speed and never paced at all.

Even though we were all pretty exhasuted after the walk, we all also felt really good. The girls slept on the drive home and I slept pretty good that night. Both my body and mind were at ease not only because of the walk, but because I know I have two furry angels by my side. I know that this is just the beginning, but I also know that my girls will be with me every baby-step of the way.

A new day

2009-02-21T07:29:00.000-08:00

I started this blog with the intention of filling it with posts and stories of living with and learning from my two very special dogs, Heidi and Shelby. I named the blog "Heart-Dogs Heal", because that's what my two canine companions are, and what that is what they do. People in the dog world will tell you that a "heart dog" is that once in a life time dog; a dog that all others will be compared to. A dog who knows what you are thinking, what you are asking of them (even if they have not yet been trained to perform that specific task), and a dog who is your constant companion. Ask a dog person about their heart dog and you will usually see their eyes go misty and hear their voice constrict. They will usually tell you amazing stories of how this dog changed their lives; and how they are a different person because of that dogs love. The bond that we have with any dog that we share our lives with is amazing, but the connection between a person and their "heart dog" is something truly magical. It is something that often cannot be expressed in words, but can only be felt in pure, raw emotion. But often times we true dog people don't need those words to explain. Because we know what the connection is like. We understand because we have felt it ourselves.

Every ones experience with their heart-dog is different, although those raw feelings and emotions all tend to be the same. I know that every ones beliefs are different too. Some people, for example, think that we only get one chance with a soul mate. Once we find that person, or dog, we only get that one experience with them. Although their spirit always stays with us, we only get that one brief breath of time with them here on Earth. I know that some people think the opposite; once our soul-mate leaves, they can choose if they want to return to us. We can call them back, but ultimately, they have the final say. This thought can be overwhelming; daunting. What happens if we call them back and they decide the time is right? How can we be sure that when we go and look at a litter of puppies, we chose the right one? And that's if we even find the right breeder with the right litter! Its a challenge that seems insurmountable. But if you believe in the theory itself, then you also believe that there is a way.

For me, my belief right now, is that my heart-dog is actually two dogs. I truly believe that a very special, heart-dog soul has been split, and now resides in two bodies. I know that people out there may be thinking I'm crazy. There may also be some who think that this is an indecent thought. A soul is not meant to be split; it is not meant to be torn in two. A soul is meant to stay whole and unchanged. And it is meant to reside in only one body. But if you lived with my two girls, you would understand where my belief comes from. There are just too many coincidences to have this not be true. They just compliment each other in so many ways; both in their individual personalities and the relationships that they have both with me and with each other. I hope that in future posts I'll be able to show everyone why I believe what I do. I hope that everyone can see how they really are two halves to one whole. And my life is made fuller and more complete because I am lucky enough to have the pair of them.

On that note, I realized that I had gotten away from the true intention of this blog. I was using it as a posting site for all of the general, mushy posts that I had done through another blogging forum. I haven't posted anything here in weeks. I have been using our other blog, "Sheltie Musings", to publish all of the recent things I have written. Which is fine because those stories tend to be sillier, and more humorous, and we've made quite a few friends there! But I want to get back to this blog; back to posting what it is really like to be living with my heart-dogs. And how it feels to be able to have them use their healing powers to help me through whats been a very difficult and trying time.

I was born with a serious congenital heart condition, and therefore have been living with it and the various problems associated with it for my whole 25 years. I've gone through the trauma of two open heart surgeries, being diagnosed with ventricular tachycardia (which is dangerous enough, but having only one ventricle makes it a bit scarier for me...), having a blood clot in my leg and being placed on coumadin because of it, almost bleeding to death because of the coumadin, and these recent episodes of "fluid overload" (aka, congestive heart failure) and being diagnosed with collateral vessels which are causing blood to bypass my lungs and renter my body unoxygenated. This last issue has caused extreme shortness of breath and low oxygen levels. And for those reasons, Ive been out of work and unable to drive for a month and a week. Its been an extremely lonely and trying time. I've had three additional cardiac catheters (one of which resulted in a stent being placed to try and "block off" the collateral vessels), 2 wisdom teeth pulled (without sedation), and have been placed back on coumadin. I wasn't worried about it too much (except for the frequent blood draws...I'm a big needle baby!) but just the other day I started bleeding, and it quickly got out of control. I once again ended up on the ER, and then stayed the night for observation.

I mention all of this not because I'm looking for any kind of sympathy, but to illustrate how important my dogs have become to me. This situation has been difficult because I have been unable to really do even the simplest of tasks. I now know how my Grandfather feels when he becomes depressed and agitated because he is slowly losing his Independence. I can't drive any where by myself and have to now rely on rides. I cannot go to work, which is a huge blow in itself, but the anxiety of having the bills (but no money to pay them) coming in the mail every day has robbed me of quite a bit of sleep. I find myself sitting day in and day out here, on the couch, on the computer, reading or watching t.v. I could have very easily went into a dark place; found myself in a deep depression. But I have two furry therapists that have kept me from getting there. Two Sheltie-shaped life preservers that have prevented me from drowning in a sea of self sorrow. Although I have had dogs (even these very two dogs) with me during the other difficult times of illness, this is the first time where I am fully aware and appreciative of their healing powers. Before they were just my dogs. Sure, they obviously helped me in many of the same ways that they are helping me now, but now I am only now fully conscious of their abilities and attempts to get me back on track. What before was an unhelpful behavior that bothered me, is now something that I recognize as an act of mercy; it's their own way of bringing me back to the present, and keeping me focused on a positive outcome and future. They're trying to break up the monotony of the day by engaging in play. They're pawing and whining at me to break the trance I sometimes find myself in: sitting for hours in the soft glow of the computer monitor. Yes, they are trying to interrupt me. Only now I see their interruptions as loving interventions, where before they were annoying and time consuming.

What brought around the epiphany? Several things, I think. My maturity and the intense love for my dogs that has grown over the years has played a big part. But the other thing has been the amount of reading I have done. I obviously have had a lot of time to catch up on some good books. And my extremely generous friends from work have given me gift cards to allow me to vastly expand my library! I've chosen books specifically written on the human-animal bond. A few books were researched and written by well known authors, and a few books were written by people like you and me about their special heart-dogs, and how their lives were changed and bettered by them. One of the books that really contributed to my change of thought (and change of heart!) has been "The Healing Power of Pets" by Dr. Mart Becker. In it, he tells how pets help their people through some truly difficult and life altering illnesses: cancer, heart disease, disability (physical and mental) and the aging process. The chapters speak to the illnesses, and are filled with well researched facts and people's personal stories. The book is really well written and easy to read. For me it has been totally enlightening. Towards the end of the book, Dr. Becker brings up a very good point. If animals are such good medicine and are so effective at healing their people, why are so many people with pets still suffering from illnesses? Especially those that are self inflicted, like obesity? It's because, to paraphrase what he says, that just like any medicine, pets need to be used effectively. People need to be open and aware of the help that their pets are offering them. They must be willing to listen to their pets when they try to offer them help: when they try stirring them into activity, and when they signal that something is wrong.

This is how I am now going to live my life. I was, before, just a dog parent. A dog parent who loved my dogs as if they were my own children. But like so many parents, of both human and canine children, I wasn't really listening to them. We were coexisting. I did not have my eyes, ears or heart open to what they were offering me; the ability to have a better life. But I am listening now. I have started to really enjoy the little things that I am able to do with them. Before I looked at bath/grooming time as if it were a chore. A necessary one, but still a chore. This time I enjoyed the entire process. I enjoyed it as the social bonding time that it is really meant to be. I enjoyed being able to do something physical; to use the muscles that have been resting for over a month. I liked feeling tired after the job was done. I revelled in the feel of their hair: dry, dirty, wet, lathered, conditioned, cleaned and dry again. Every stage was a wonderful tactile experience. And my spirits were lifted to new heights when I was able to laugh during the process. Laughing and smiling is not something that you can help when you see your previously furry, fluffy dogs turn into skinny, naked ones. And when you see some of the looks that they give, or the expressions on their faces you really can't help but chuckle. All in all, the whole experience was great. The girls and I felt better after all was said and done. And it has since affected me too. Because my mom brought the grooming stuff (table, bag of supplies etc.) from the garage to the house, I have been using it every day. We do our daily "who's so pretty!?!?" routine before we play Sheltie-Speedway. It continues to be a really nice bonding time for us all, and I know that they will continue to feel nice and clean long after that last bath. I I really enjoy seeing them clean too. It really makes me smile when I see them outside, the wind playing with their silky hair, and their highlights sparkling in the sunlight that, like me, is growing ever stronger.

I feel like it is a new day; like I have been reborn with all of my senses fully awake. There are so many possibilities life still has to offer both me and my girls. There is kayaking and hiking this spring, summer and fall. There is getting back into obedience, rally and agility training. And maybe even competition. And there is a new business idea that's slowly taking root and growing in my mind. All made possible by the love and healing that my heart-dogs have given, and are continuing to giving me. I am so thankful, and so blessed.

I hope to be updating this blog more frequently, if not daily. I really hope to start using it for the original reason that it was created: to bring stories and updates to our friends, and to share the stories about my heart-dogs, who continue to inspire me every day.
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*I also wanted to mention the huge amount of support that I have received from ALL of my family and friends. Although this is a blog about my dogs, I do want to make sure that I mention all of the overwhelming support and love from all of the humans around me too. I truly appreciate every well wish and warm thought! I wouldn't be here if it weren't for both the dogs, AND the people!!

Dog Love

2009-01-27T07:49:00.000-08:00

Must Love Dogs part 2: Dog Love

Dog Love is one of the purest loves that we are lucky enough to be able to experience in life.It springs from the intricate bond and special relationship’s that we share with our canine companions.Dog love is like a unique brand of magic; like all love, it is hard to describe with mere words, but can only be expressed through strong feelings of passion and devotion. Feelings that can only be shared by beings who have a deep, intimate relationship with one another. And the relationships that people have with their pets are usually more intimate than any relationship that they have with other humans. There is just so much more freedom and trust in a relationship with an animal; people have often expressed how much freer they are to be themselves, without the fear of being judged when they are alone with their pets. There are no pressures there, or contingencies on that love. Their pets are there for their people through thick and thin, through sickness and health, and for richer or poorer. Because of this “unconditional love”, people feel that it is a more guaranteed love, a safer love; especially in a country with a divorce rate of about 50%. Unlike people, dogs will not cheat on you, feel differently about you because your weight or looks have changed, or leave you because your status or income has lowered. Dogs would stay with you no matter what. They would live under the bridge with you, in a card-board box, eating out of trash cans if we asked them to; and they would never utter a single complaint about having to be asked to do so. Sure, just like our relationships with people, our relationships with our dogs can be complex, dramatic, and emotionally straining at times, but it is never because they want to cause you pain. They do not wake up in the morning with a plan on how to get back at you for a previous grievance. They do not smile at you while you feed them breakfast, masking thoughts of manipulation breeding in their furry heads. They are completely honest beings, and if there is something going on that is straining your relationship, it is usually due to a breakdown in communication some where. It is not because they are trying to spite you, or ruin your day. They have no ulterior motives. They are who they are, and this is the main reason why their love is so special. Because people can be sure that the love is true, that it is genuine. You can be sure that your dog is not just trying to get your money, or get into your pants.
I do not want to spend this whole entry outlining every single thing that makes Dog Love so special and unique. If you’d like to read one of the best pieces out there bringing all of the reasons we love dogs to light in a really inspiring way, I urge you to check out “Pack of Two” by Carolyn Knapp. As I said in Part 1, this is probably my favorite book of all time. It is such a nice, and easy read; it doesn’t get dry or technical. It has a perfect balance between information and personal tales, woven together in such a way that it makes the reader not want to put the book down. But, I think that there are a few reasons that can always be brought up in this discussion, and a few more reasons why Dog Love is so great that were not mentioned in the book.
The first reason, is of course the one already mentioned: “Unconditional Love”. Now, I both agree, and disagree with this theory. I think that the unconditional part of Dog Love has to be earned. Dogs aren’t just BORN with the idea that they have to live to serve humans, or to grovel unnecessarily at our feet. Dogs are perfectly capable of surviving on their own, without the assistance of people. (Just look at all of the strays in this country, or all over the world for that matter.) I mean, sure, when dogs are being selectively bred by people, and there are generations upon generations of tame and domestic dogs going to new homes every day, of course they are going to be OK with people. But there it is. Just because they are going to be tolerant of people, doesn’t mean that they are going to LOVE them. The love comes when those new dog owners take the time to get to know, train, socialize and care for that new dog. It’s when that magic bond forms that we get the Love. And other people will start to take notice of that special relationship that connects these two beings of different species too. And the building of this loving bond brings me to the next point of the Dog Love story:The intimate bond. As I mentioned in the beginning of this piece, most people have a more intimate bond with their pets (namely dogs) than they do with any other human that they have in their life. And I say mostly dogs, because cats usually don’t care enough to follow us from room to room as we go about our daily business, and animals like horses obviously aren’t in close enough quarters with us to get the chance to. (I don’t know anyone who allows their horse in their home, or lives out in their barn with their horse!) But dogs…our dogs tend to be with us EVERYWHERE. I can really only speak for myself (although I know many dog owners who are in the same boat) when I say that my dogs share my bed. They also insist on following me everywhere, including into the bathroom, when they are able. (Not out of separation anxiety, but just as a need to be close; they are herding dogs after all!) Some people wont be that open even with their spouses. I’ve heard of people who wont let their significant others ever even see them without makeup, but they’ll allow their dog to. I know I wouldn’t DARE to sing in front of any human being but I will sing at the top of my lungs when its just me and my girls. There is just such a sense of comfort being with your dogs; knowing that you can act like a raving lunatic who’s free from the institution on a day-pass, and they will never tell. They wont get on the family hot-line and blab about how awful you sing, and wont tell the neighbors on the other side of the fence what you look like naked. Sure, we will never be able to tell what they’re REALLY thinking when we do all of the odd stuff that we humans do, but we can be sure that their lips are sealed. And sometimes its just really nice to have a friend who keeps secrets so well. This also, brings me to my next point:Dogs are the BEST listeners. It’s true, they are. They will not only keep the things you say completely confidential (which, lets face it, we cant always be sure that our human friends are doing…) but they will also never judge what you say, or the feelings that you are expressing. On the contrary, as they will always be silent listeners, they really allow you to think and analyze what it is that you are discussing with them. They allow for a great deal of introspection, and really let you think hard about the task or issue at hand, without being critical of your solution. One of my favorite quotes comes from one of my favorite shows. In the episode, the main character is trying to figure out what to do about a particularly difficult problem; one that is causing him terrible moral anguish. The characters pet comes to his human friend, puts his paws up on the sitting persons knee, and makes indistinguishable chirruping noises. The main character suddenly comes up with a solution and says to his companion: “I know you can’t talk. Pretending you can just helps me think.” His pet makes more chirruping noises. The main character replies “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t pretend to hear that.” I love this quote because it highlights why our animals can be such great therapists. They just sit, and “listen”. Even though our species language barrier filters out most of what we are saying to them, the fact is that they always LOOK like what we are saying is more important than anything else going on in the world. They just look at you with those big eyes, cock their heads, swivel their ears, and give you their undivided attention. Sure, they’re probably just waiting for key phrases that actually mean something to them (for my girls its “food”, “hungry”, “toy”, “ride” and “doggy store”) but seeing how attentive they are, when so many of our human counterparts just tune us out, is a huge confidence and morale boost. Someone cares enough to listen. And when we come up with a solution, or resolution, they are totally on board. No questions asked.
So, I think those are some of the main reasons why pets (and again, dogs in particular) are such loving companions. Especially in today’s world where the human race is becoming more and more reliant on technology, and therefore becoming more and more distant and separated. And of course, there are so many other benefits as well: dogs allow us to keep active, and therefore healthy; they introduce us to things that we may not have done before, and therefore they bring new people into our lives; and they give us something to always take care of. Even when parents leave us to live our own lives, and children grow up and move away. They are of course, an enormous responsibility, and just like with any brand of love, Dog Love does require time and effort; blood, sweat and tears. But nurtured and encouraged, the benefits are worth it.
I want to end this discussion of Dog Love with, I think, the most important point of all. I think that this reason, right here, is the number one main reason why we love dogs (and all of our pets) so much. As I mentioned before, Dog Love is thought to be unconditional. Love between people and animals is one of the purest and truest Love’s there is. And I think this is why:
I hear this quote mentioned at weddings, on T.V. and in books all the time. But when you think of it, and I mean really take some time to process what exactly is being said, I’m not sure that this is able to be applied to any relationships that people have with each other. Granted, I don’t think that it is supposed to be taken literally either. Rather, I think it is an ideal that any people in any kind of love should strive for. This is what loving someone should be about. But I find that it really and truly can be applied to our love for our animals. Only they, being truly honest beings, cannot put any negative attachments on their love. Dog Love is the love being mentioned in God’s words:
“Love is always patient and kind; it is never jealous, love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people’s sins but delights in the truth; it is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes. Love does not come to an end.”
So enjoy your dog love. Bask in it. Let it wash over you everyday that you are blessed to have your canine companions here with you. And know, as God said, Love does not end. And this is true for all love; Dog Love included. So if you have had to say good-bye to a dear friend, or if that time has not yet come, just know that your Dog Love will shine on forever. Those who are gone, live on forever in the hearts of those who remember them, as we are left with their paw-prints on our hearts and their Dog Love in our souls.

Black Sheep

2009-01-26T06:51:00.000-08:00

"Must Love Dogs" part 1: Black Sheep

I read a quote not too long ago, that said something like “one of the greatest joys in life is to find out who you are and what you are meant to do” or something like that. (I wasn’t able to find the original quote to refer to). I think it was well said, and I totally agree. But I think that there is something even more exciting than that...finding out who you are, and then finding people who are just like you. No matter what a persons interests are, there are always people out there who share them. Sure, it may be hard to find someone who enjoys collecting antique paperclips as much as you do, but sure enough, there are people that do. However, waiting to find those people who share your passion for various things in life can be one of the loneliest waits you may ever experience. Not having anyone to talk to about your love for something; having no one to share joys, losses, and sacrifices with; not having anyone who cares enough to laugh with you through the good times, cry with you through the bad, and to pick you up after things get tough. It’s beyond just your regular friends or family. If you don’t have people in your life who share the same passion that you do, life can be a very lonely and solitary road to walk. And it’s not your regular family/friends faults...its just that their passions and loves just happen to be something different. However, issues arise when those "regular" (and I don’t mean to insult anyone...maybe regular isn’t the right word? I just mean, familiar: friends and family who you know and love, and they know and love you back) friends and family members start not respecting you, or even mocking or ridiculing you because of your interests. Sure, it may start out as a bit of teasing (some of us who are passionate about some things can take it to the extreme; myself included!) but then turns into something more personal. The attacks become less funny, and more savage. It seems very akin to having your race, religion, or personality attacked. They’re attacking something that makes you, you. They are attacking your very core, the fiber of your being. It can turn very old, loving relationships into those hardly recognizable; relationships that become severed because of hurtful words or actions that can never be taken back. You’re hurt because these are the people who supposedly know you the best, love you the most. And yet they say and do hurtful things because they don’t think that you are "the norm". Usually, they are blissfully unaware that the things that have been said or done have hurt you that bad. They don’t know that you have been mortally wounded; that a sick feeling has crept into your stomach and tears have formed in your eyes. These situations are tough...tough to forgive, and tougher to forget. BUT, if you are lucky enough to be at the stage of your journey where you have found that magical group of people who share your dreams and passions, then the hurtful things that are said by others outside of that special group don’t hurt as bad. You know that even though you have been cut, your wounds heal that much more quickly when you have good medicine in the form of kind words and encouragement given by the people who understand you best.I think that if you find yourself if the category of "animal lover", as I do, you have challenges that make those listed above unique. Although I cant say for sure, as I’ve never walked this path, I think it is akin to being gay in today’s society: sure, people are tolerant (a lot more than they used to be) but you still encounter naive people who often misunderstand you because of their own fears. A lot of people just don’t understand...a lot of people think it’s a choice, or a "lifestyle", and do not realize that this is how you were born; how God made you. And again, these people may be in your own circle of friends and family. One of the good things, however, about being an animal lover is that you can find people who share the same passion a little easier, as there are so many of us out there. And what has sprung from our vast numbers is a very large and wide array of books celebrating the love and special bond between pets and their people. I don’t think that anyone has put what we animal lovers feel in today’s society better than Carolyn Knapp in her book (which is one of my all-time favorites, perhaps for obvious reasons) "Pack of Two":
...“Fall in love with a dog, and among non-dog people, you will see eyebrows raise, expressions grow wary. You’ll reach into your wallet to brandish a photograph of a new puppy, and a friend will say, ‘Oh no-not pictures.’...Attitudes like this can make dog lovers feel like members of a secret society, as though we’re inhabiting a strange and somehow improper universe....and at one point I said quite candidly, ‘I’m not sure I would have been able to face the loss if I hadn’t had he dog.’ This seemed like a perfectly reasonable statement to me-I tend to take my attachment to her (Knapp’s dog “Lucille”) for granted these days, as a simple and central fact of life-but Lisa’s eyes widened a little when I said it. She said ‘Wait a minute. You’re scaring me.’Scaring her? I looked at Lisa, aware of a sudden sense of dissonance, as though I’d just exposed too much. It was an uh-oh feeling: Uh-oh, she doesn’t live in that world, she probably thinks I’m a wacko. So I took a deep breath and tried to explain. This is a complicated task, trying to describe how a relationship with a dog can be healthy and sustaining and rich. It’s hard even trying to explain that the attachment does, in fact, qualify as a relationship, a genuine union between two beings who communicate with, respect, and give to one another. Unless you fall back on the one or two pat explanations we routinely trot out in order to explain the canine place in the human heart-dogs give us unconditional love, dogs are ‘good companions’-it’s hard to talk about loving a dog deeply without inviting skepticism. A lot of people, quite frankly, think intense attachments to animals are weird and suspect, the domain of people who can’t quite handle attachments to humans.…But I didn’t go into all that with Lisa. Instead, I used safe descriptions, clinical terms.…Lisa seemed to respond positively enough to this line of thought-‘right,’ she said at one point, ‘they are good companions;-but I was aware as I talked of a gnawing frustration, a sense of my own compulsion to hold back when I talk about my dog and to offer up what’s in effect a watered-down and fairly stereotypical view of attachment: dog as man’s best friend, dog as loyal and faithful servant. There are elements of truth to that view-dogs can be wonderful friends, they can be enormously loyal and faithful creatures-but those factors represent only one part of the picture, a limited and really rather arrogant fragment that concerns only the way dogs serve us, not the way we serve them or the ways we serve each other. Finally, I shook my head and said to Lisa, ‘You know, it’s been really important to me to learn not to pathologize my relationship with Lucille. People have very powerful relationships with their dogs, and that doesn’t mean they’re crazy, or that they’re substituting dogs for humans, or that they’re somehow incapable of forming intimate attachments with people. It’s a different kind of relationship, but it’s no less authentic.’Alas..... Lisa looked across the table and said, ‘You’re still scaring me.’”....
I read that passage and realized that I could not have expressed how I feel in better words than those. They have stuck with me since I first picked up the book over a year ago. This is exactly how most of us in the animal/pet-loving world feel...although we are often times not confident enough in our relationships with "normal" people to express it. And, as you can see with Carolyn’s discussion with her friend Lisa, even if we do get brave, frustrated or annoyed enough that we DO speak our mind, nothing that we say really sinks in.I think it is important to mention too, that just like with anything in life, there are variations of "animal lover". Just because you "own" an animal, doesn’t mean that you are immediately inducted into the "animal lover" club. I have seen my fair share of people come into training classes, dog shows, pet stores and vet clinics that share their home with animals, but really don’t see them anything except furniture that can move. They do what is necessary (sometimes, sometimes not) but really don’t care that much for them. Then again, you have people at the total opposite end of the spectrum who think that we shouldn’t even have animals as pets. I know some people who support PETA who think that the very idea that we "own" animals akin them to slaves and by keeping them in our homes we are robbing them of their natural rights and tendencies. There are also people who believe that every animal needs saving. Where do I fall? Where do most "animal lovers" in fact fall? Probably somewhere in between, though I of course can really only speak for myself. I do not see my dogs as objects or property that I own. And although I compete with them, I do not see them as ribbon-winning machines either. They are co-habitants of my home, and mostly like children. And although I will openly admit that yes, I see them as my kids, they are not treated like "human" kids are. They are loved like human kids, and respected as equals, but they are not babied or coddled. The first trainer that I ever worked for said that there are in fact appropriate ways to spoil a dog, without them turning into little monsters who think that they are in charge of your home and life. The key is to remember that they are a separate species, and as such, they have different rules and instinct that guide them through life. It’s important to know these rules and instincts so that everyone can co-habitate peacefully; it is not fair to have expectations of our dogs that are unrealistic. It is unfair to think that they will behave like civilized members of society without careful socialization, training and guidance. If you forget that your dogs are dogs, and treat them like small humans in fur coats, then you are asking to be constantly frustrated and upset with these confused beings who just want to share your home and your heart.However, there are many ways that we can treat our pets like we treat the other most loved members of our families that wont hurt them...in fact, there are some things we can do that can improve their lives in many ways. So much of the pet industry now is dedicated to making "human" products for our furry friends, though so much of those products really aren’t applicable or useful to them at all. I mean, what dog do you know needs a high fashion bikini before going in to take a swim? Or what dog really cares if his bed happens to sit on a four-poster cherry bed-frame? But some products that have been carried over have made their lives happier and more comfortable. I, for example, spent quite a bit of money (more than I care to admit here...) for memory foam beds for the living room for both my girls. They also wear booties when they go out for hikes in the snow to protect their delicate pads from the cold, ice, and toxic chemicals found in salt. Some advances in other areas, in nutrition for example, have made our friends much healthier and happier. I certainly know that having my dogs on a much higher grade kibble made a difference, and an even bigger one was made when I switched them to raw. I also know that they will probably by healthier with less vaccines being given to them as well. THIS is what separates the real "animal lovers" from the "animal owners." Animal lovers treat their dogs with the same respect and courtesy that we would treat any human. And we are constantly improving their lives from what we learn every day. Not too long ago, it was thought that animals felt no pain. They were not given pain meds through routine surgery such as a spay. But now it is common practice. We realize that our pets are so similar to us, in so many ways, that it would be pure ignorance and would do them a great disservice to not treat them in the same ways. And real animal lovers WANT to learn; we are constantly educating ourselves to make sure we are giving our pets the best lives possible. But to reiterate, this is what separates us into animal lovers, animal owners, and everyone else. People who don’t give animals the same respect and courtesy as people, see us as people who cant lead normal lives, and therefore must turn our attention and love onto some being that really cant reciprocate. They are often the ones heard saying "It’s just a DOG" (see my "Just a dog" blog.) So, what do we as animal lovers do when society tells us that we are the "black sheep"? We do what we have always done. Smile. Ignore it. Go on with our lives. And we can do that for so many reasons...because we have found our niche' in life, and are happy and content. We have found those other happy and content people who share our passion for the furry beings who walk the path of life with us. And we know that at the end of the day, when all is said and done (no matter what was said, and what was done) we have those furry beings waiting for us at home to greet us and shower us with unconditional love. And finally, because we know how intelligent and sweet sheep can really be, and take being called one a compliment.(For the record, as many times as I have experienced the hurt feelings and loneliness mentioned in the first half of this blog, I have also experienced just as many compliments and "warm fuzzies" from friends and family too. My mom happens to be not only my hero, but my biggest fan. She has ALWAYS encouraged and helped along my love for animals; even when it has cost her more money and gray hair than she would care to admit! I even received a phone call from an Aunt just a few weeks ago, where she told me that she was so proud of my love for my girls, and how lucky they must be to have me. Now, I don’t know about that, but it really brought a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes. And that’s the thing about friends and family, although they may think your crazy, and completely obsessed, you can always tell who really loves you...and as the Beatles so wisely said, "love is all you need".)

A ray of light through skies of gray...

2009-01-26T06:48:00.000-08:00

This blog is about the very special visit with my girls that I was extremely lucky to have, while I was hospitalized at Mass General Hospital. I was there for 12 days total, and am now home; Im now able to see, touch, and play with my girls any time that I want. I will never take their presence and love for granted again...
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I’m still here. Still playing the waiting game, still sitting in my room at MGH. But today’s different. Sure, I woke up at an unreasonably early hour, ate my standard breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and home fries, and I took a shower. But today something really special happened. Today I got to see my girls for the first time in over a week.I left my girls to go to work at about 20 mins of 10 last Monday, which was January 12. I just got back from seeing them; 7 days, 3 hours and about 40 minutes without any contact from my kids. I don’t know why, but it seems like the more you love someone or something, and the more you try not to forget it, not to let it slip silently from your memory, the faster it fades away. I can picture some random celebrity at any point in time. Remember what someone was wearing in some episode of a stupid T.V. show, but I have a hard time remembering what my Dad looks like. I forget the details of his face, how strong he felt when I hugged him, and how tall he was to me, even when I was wearing dress shoes with a bit of a heel. This time in the hospital away from my dogs is no different. I cant remember how soft their fur is; I cant remember the dark depths that their eyes portray; I cant remember the sound of their whine, or their barks; I cant remember the delicate way that their muzzles taper into a fine point where a obsidian black wet nose rests. But I can remember all of those things now, because I was lucky enough to have a mom who drove the ½ hour down and back to bring them for a visit, to have a Dr. who wrote orders that let me go off the floor, to have a nurse that took time out of her busy day to wheel me down stairs, a building over both down and back, and to have met a security guard that, when he spotted us, looked the other way and gave us another 5 minutes.I sat in Christmas-Eve like anticipation at the windows, waiting for my moms blue jeep to pull around the corner, to deliver to me my girls. Finally, I saw them. My nurse went out and spoke with her, and the next thing that I knew was that my mom was leashing them up and bringing them inside of the building. Luckily today is MLK day, and the Wang building, which is mostly out-patient care, was closed and empty for the most part. The girls walked in and gazed around curiously at their new surroundings. They have been in hospital like settings before, but obviously not here at MGH. I was sitting in a wheel chair facing away from the windows, staring avidly at my furry children that just walked in. I called them, and my mom dropped their leashes and sent them to me. Shelby immediately registered that I was sitting there and started jumping up and rubbing her face into my legs and hands (she was wearing her gentle-leader which I instructed my mom to put on her before coming-to prevent her from screaming!) Heidi walked over to me, but didn’t seem as excited to see me. Sure, she came over and said hello, but wasn’t wiggling out of her skin like Shelby was. This, I have to be honest, was quite a disappointment. Heidi is supposed to be my “heart dog”. That once in a life time dog that you bond with so tightly, and so quickly that they are the equivalent of soul-mates. Heidi sure seemed indifferent to seeing me. So I focused on Shelby some more. I let her jump up into my lap, and took off her gentle-leader. She was panting quite a bit, probably due to both excitement and stress. I cradled her for a few minutes in my lap, and kissed her all over her furry, white arrow-blazed head. I kissed her on her nose, and looked into her eyes. I looked at her mouth, and at her teeth. I wanted to look for as long, and as hard as I could. I’m still not sure when I’ll be able to see them again. Then, I turned my attention to my somewhat indifferent Heidi. I picked her up and cradled her too in my lap. She seemed uncomfortable at first. She doesn’t like much being held, but this was even more stiff this time. I rubbed in her ears, kissed her head too, and then released her. They were both now trying to get me to pet them at the same time. I only have two hands, both of which have IV’s in them. So, I decided to sit on the floor. Here they had a little more access to me. Shelby tried again to get into my lap and nuzzle me; Heidi backed up into me awaiting her belly and bum rub. I of course obliged both. The next 15 or so minutes was a snuggle fest: I asked Heidi to get on her back so I could rub her tummy more fully, and Shelby repeatedly put her paw on my arm and listened intently to what ever words came out of my mouth. I asked her how she was, and if Mumma was feeding her, and playing with her. I told them I missed and loved them, though I didn’t say out loud everything that my heart was bursting to say. There were a few other people there, and my mom, and I didn’t want to look like a complete lunatic.When the visit had to end (as the security guard could no longer ignore us, as his boss spotted us on the security cameras), my mom asked them to come away and went to call my nurse to have her come and get me. Shelby was whining, and Heidi kept staring at me, not wanting to follow my mom away. I watched as she walked them to the car, and loaded them in. I heard Shelby doing her crazy barking in anticipation of the next ride. I wasn’t able to see Heidi, but my heart has placed the image of her looking longingly out the window, back at me who was secretly and quietly dying inside. My mom waved by from the window, and then drove away. The security guard then handed me something: it was Shelby’s gentle-leader that had been ignored by both of us on the ledge of the pay phones. I held it, and remembered my new favorite quote: “I feel the same spiritual comfort holding a leash, as others feel holding a rosary.” While I waited for the nurse to come back and get me, all sorts of thoughts about my girls flooded my mind. I realized how much comfort that they give me on a daily basis. For example, how wonderful it feels to have the warm weight of Shelby sitting on my lap while I watch T.V. or nap. How much joy I get from seeing them chasing each other in a game of sheltie-herding-tag out in the yard, or on a walk. How comforting it is to have someone to talk to, even if its just cooing nonsense while I walk to get “snackies”” for them. How much faster I fall asleep when I have my face buried in Heidi’s snow white mane, and my fingers entwined in her pumpkin-pie colored hair. These are the very personal things that make my life with my girls so amazing. There are of course so many general things that make living with dogs a joy for people all over the world. I hope to elaborate on those later. They’re pretty much almost all summed up in “A Pack of Two”, my favorite book of all time. As for right now, I think I’m going to try and read some more (a new book that I bought at the Boston Show called “Dogs of Dream Time”). I’m going to try not to focus on how much I miss my girls, but focus on how lovely it was to have seen them; to have touched them. I’m also going to try hard and not focus on the fact that I expected them to be so much happier to have seen me for the first time in a week. Its hard for a human who loves something so much, to feel like they are not getting that same loving feeling in return. But we, well, I as a human, have to realize that I am loving dogs; and one of the brilliance of dogs as a species, and one of the reasons that they have been so successful in keeping their role as mans best friend, is their ability to adapt. I don’t doubt that were the circumstances different and both of us were gone, and they were left in a strange environment, they would be much happier to see me. I’m trying to remember if this was the case when we left them with Becky a few years ago when we went down to Florida. I think that they were both overjoyed to have us back, and to be back on familiar ground. Although dogs are masters of adaptation, they don’t really like the change that comes with it. So, although they are functioning, and happy now, as my mom is taking SUCH good care of them, I’m sure that they will be happier and a bit more content once things are “back to normal” and their entire pack (or maybe in their case, “flock” is back together.) See? Now I feel better already. I’m going to go back and hold Shelby’s gentle-leader or a little while, and relish every single dog hair that I can find on my clothes; a memento from our precious visit.