It Was The Best Of Times...And The Worst

People who love dogs know there is nothing in the world like them.  Least of all people.

Shortly after we lost our Saint Bernard Bacchus a new one came into our lives via You Tube.  Jub Jub.  At the time just months old and as owners of new puppies do, his owner flooded You Tube with videos of their adventures.  I received an invite that I would guess went to every Saint fan he could find.

It was all of our Saints all over again rolled into one.  I couldn't wait for new ones.  The timing was great because it helped heal the pain of my loss.

With time inconsolable grief turns into happy memories and you move on. At least it did with me and Jub Jub's young man.  He moved, the videos became less frequent but we were friends on Facebook and I check in every now and then.

Time came to clean some things out of our game room.  Sitting in a corner was a cardboard cut out of Beethoven I've had for 20 or so years.  I picked him up from our local video store just after we lost Oaf who had preceded Bacchus as head Saint in our household.  I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather pass him on to than Jub Jub and his human.  All because of their relationship - it's special, at least to me.  He's there now, in a place of honor on the wall above Jub Jub's sleeping space.  It seemed a happy and fitting thing to do, I had healed.

But you never really do.  My niece called me today in tears.  She had just had their greyhound euthanized.  The vet suspected a neurological problem for some time and yesterday it manifested itself to the point of no return.  She described it to me, her anguish palpable.  It brought back all those feelings as if my own experiences with Bacchus, all my dogs, had been yesterday.  My eyes are moist now.  For my niece and her family, for her Treason and all our pets that have gone before.

It hurts.  Oh my, I had forgotten how much. I grieve more for my dogs than I do for most people. I don't recall who said that dogs aren't your whole life but they make your life whole.  How true.

Such is the joy and the sorrow of allowing yourself to love that deeply and be loved equally as much in return.  Run free Treason.  That we could rejoin our dogs at some point in eternity would make all the pain and turmoil we live with in our earthly existance more than worth it.

Who The Heck Is Jub Jub McFadden?

Jub Jub McFadden.  The name kind of rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?  No?  Well, I guess it's in the mind of the beholder.  You see, he's the new man in my life.  Relatively new anyway. Actually there are two of them, the other being his Dad.

I've written before about how sometimes something special comes along through blogging and all that has accompanied it like You Tube.  Remember back when Bacchus was sick and I posted videos about his well being - or lack thereof?  I had just gotten my Flip video camera the Christmas before we knew he was so sick.  I never got to do all I had planned.  Videos of fun with my dog.

Fast forward maybe a year after he had left us.  I got an invitation to subscribe to the videos of one Beefstew.  Speaking of curious names!  Curiosity won and there I met Jub Jub.  A Saint Bernard puppy and his dad.  It was love at first sight.

I've a couple of other friends on Facebook with Saints though with one being Greek and the other Italian I miss out on the dialog. And of course there was Oly, the Saint belonging to our vet tech.  So it isn't as though I've been deprived of my Saint fix.

What I found, however, is this tremedous bond between a young man and his dog. I know most people love their dogs as much as I loved mine.  Most, however, don't show the relationship develop as has Stew with Jub Jub.  Every dog in the world should have a person like Stew.

It also drove home that raising a Saint Bernard is a joy  meant for people much younger than me!  The energy!  The adventures.  The laughter with dogs and cats and friends - and chipmunks!  It's hilarious, poignant and exhilerating.  The first thing I do when I open my e-mail is to look for a new You Tube announcement.

Now my vicarious world is complete.  Jub Jub has his own Facebook page! Both Jub Jub and his Dad have friended me. I'm thrilled.  I really am.  It makes me feel more a part of them.  It isn't the same as having my own living breathing furry friend, but it's as good as it gets as a substitute.  How can you not love a guy who stands with his dog, commenting on the Occupy Wall Street movement with a sign saying 'I am so angry I made a sign'.  It may not hit everyone's funny bone but it hit mine spot on!  The man is flat out my kind of people!

Without social media none of this would have happened.  It can't replace reality nor should it, but if it can fill an empty place in my heart it can't be all bad.

So to Jub Jub and Stew and everyone around you that join to warm my little corner of the world.  Thanks.  Only one thing could make it better.  That someday our paths should cross. One never knows.

Good Bye Old Friend

No, not Bacchus.  He left us two years ago this month.  It seems like yesterday and we still miss him terribly.  It's the couch.  His couch, really. He played on it, ate on it, we snuggled on it but mostly he slept on it.

We've had it for better than 20 years.  It was a purchase we made from the model house we bought in Simi Valley.  That was back in the eighties!  It has been recovered only once - when it moved from living room into family room.  Then we let our guard down and allowed the dogs on it.  Most came only when invited.  Bacchus owned it.

Recently I've had two good friends lose their dogs.  One unabashedly declared not only did he love his dog, but he was in love with his dog. Then wondered if we understood the depth of his feeling.  Of course we did.

The other, being a Buddist, is hoping her dog will return to her via reincarnation. Not being Buddist, I'm not sure how that works, but again, the depth of feeling.  Being widowed and totally alone she feels lost without him.  I worry about a degree of obsession with her but I understand the grief.

In time I hope the zest for life without their beloved pets returns.  Ours has though it has been  a slow process.  Mainly I think because we haven't and don't plan to get another dog.  There are a slew of reasons.

Reminders remain around the house though.  There are still some cans of food in the laundry room pantry.  His Mutt Lucks and grooming tools.  A couple of water dishes.  I still find tufts of fur stuck under a piece of furniture seldom moved.  And the couch.

We decided when he first got sick, when we knew the couch was due for replacement, that we wouldn't get rid of it as long as we had him.  And so we kept it, and kept it and kept it.  It was comfortable, well broken in and pretty thread bare.  Yet we were reluctant to make that move.

But it's time now.  New recliners suitable for old couch potatoes have taken it's place.  I'm happy with them for they too are comfortable.  I'll miss that old couch though.  It was a part of what made the house our home.  I miss the old dog too, who was even more so.

Lucky Dog!

Most all of us who have dogs love them with all our hearts. There are times, however, when love is not enough.

Since the end of November there has been an ad running in the local paper asking for information about, or the return of, Remington, a three year old black lab.

It has appeared so often the paper did a story on the owner. In it he waxed nostalgic about how he missed his buddy, how they had bonded, how empty his bed was without him pressing his legs against his back. He went on to remember their hunting trips and how he hopped into the back of his pick up, how he'd go out at night and always came back.

Whoa. Let's back up here. One, it's against the law for a dog to run loose in this county. For many good reasons including the heartache of his not returning. What grabbed my attention, however, was the comment about the pick up.

Having seen a dog in the middle of a Los Angeles freeway one time, I've never been able to shed the image. Fortunately cars behind me saw cars swerving to miss it and were able to slow traffic enough to rescue the pooch. My guess is he fell out of a pick up.

You see it all the time. Some states have tethering laws, others do not. Even that isn't fool proof for a dog could actually hang himself.

This morning's paper told the story of a woman and her kids who witnessed a dog being dragged behind a truck. The driver had no idea. Even though in pursuit, the woman didn't catch the truck before the dog slipped his collar and they finally corralled him in a parking lot. We was alive, running on adrenalin, but his nails were gone and his feet worn down. The woman and her kids rushed him to the vet emergency clinic where he was successfully treated.

In a conversation with the owner, it was learned he "lost track" of the dog in Interstate 90 before exiting into city traffic. The woman didn't see him until they were several miles from that particular exit. One lucky dog. Maybe. He's home now and will recover. Hopefully never again to be allowed in the back of a an open pick up. Or be "lost track" of!!

Bacchus was truly spoiled. When he grew too tall for our Expedition, we got him a van. The picture shows how he travelled. Even at that we weren't totally conscientious because we did not secure him to his 'chaise'. Most of the time he slept on his blankets and didn't wander but if he wanted to stretch his legs he could.

I cringe every time I see a dog in a pick up. There are so many things that can cause a tumble. You see them in beating hot sun and pouring rain and snow. When we had occasion we had to take Bacchus in the pick up he had the entire back seat. He was cramped compared to the van but he was safe.

It's a practice that will probably never change but I sure wish it would. Dogs should be banned from the back of open pick ups. Full stop.

The next dog that suffers the fate of the golden retriever of which I write may not be so lucky. I would not like that on my conscience!

Unfettered Talent

On a sweltering hot August day in the summer of 2007 I got a call from a neighbor asking if I could come over. Ready for a break for any reason, I obliged and was greeted by the entire family grinning and giggling. The reason was to present me with a water color of Bacchus done by their then eleven year old son. I was absolutely stunned.

Bacchus was beginning to get up in years and I knew I had a wonderful, personal keepsake that I would treasure forever. It hangs today in the kitchen next to the Swiss cowbell I toted all the way home from one of our excursions. I thought they were an appropriate compliment to one another!

I've written about this family before as being models for home schooling. All three of the youngsters are bright and talented and I miss having them in the neighborhood a lot. They had sheep and goats and alpacas and dogs that I loved to visit and often did. They were the type of neighbors that were always there if you needed them. They've moved on to property more akin to their lifestyle yet I still find myself craning my neck to see if any of the critters are out and about.

What I really miss, however, is keeping track of the kids' accomplishments. Especially the young water colorist. Being an artist of sorts myself, I have a soft spot in my heart for him. He has an immense talent and I admire the way his parents have handled his development. They see that he is getting the necessary training to hone his skills, yet keeping it controlled so that he can enjoy the freedom and joy of just being a boy.

Every once in awhile, a justly proud Mom will send me a photo of a new painting. I'd like to share the latest with you. The young man is beginning his teen years now. What a future he has ahead of him! And this is his dog. I see two kinds of love in this painting. That of a boy for his dog and that of a young artist for his medium. Having a work of his done especially for me is one of the highlights of having had our paths cross.

What A Concept!

Bacchus. He was an old boy when he left us. For a Saint Bernard. A few months short of ten. His disease took it's toll, aging him even more rapidly than had he been younger.

As Christmas rolls around, we find ourselves still missing him. There is an emptiness to the house. It's not quite the home it was when he was with us. Many friends encouraged us to get another dog. Others understood why we said no more. We're not so young any more either. We had two major concerns.

One was the pain. We've been through it six times. We don't want to go through it again. Especially since with Bacchus it was such an emotional roller coaster. I'm not sure I could survive another bout of anxiety that intense.

The second concern is what if our pet would out live us? We have no family to take him. What would become of him? What would the upheaval do to him?

Most of our friends, scattered throughout the country, are animal lovers who share our intensity of devotion. Yesterday we received a Christmas card from just such friends. They expressed their sorrow about our losing Bacchus and shared that they understood our thinking. They, however, have an alternative!

Living in the country, they have a collection of strays and mutts that become instant family. They also live not far from Texas A & M which, in conjunction with it's Vet Med school, has a retirement home for pet's who have lost their owners!

What a fantastic concept! They are not put up for adoption, they are just given a home for as long as necessary. They have shelter and albeit a new family and surroundings, one that will be consistent. They have medical care from the vet med school and 24/7 care from the students. They are not caged but allowed to roam. Like home.

I did a google search to see if there were other facilities of this sort and could find none. Not that there aren't any, but none were readily apparent. Someday, when money isn't so tight and good works can find funding once again, this is a concept I'd like to see blossom! It isn't inexpensive, but isn't beyond budgeting. It may just be the comfort zone seniors need in order to have pets during their later years.

What about us? I doubt it. It's a decision for the two of us and being at odds doesn't help. You see, it's the pain.

Dog Daze Of Vacation

I love dogs. You who follow this blog know it. A shy three months have passed since we lost our beloved Bacchus. The emotion still bubbles to the surface, sometimes at the most unexpected of times.

That's one reason we were anxious to take our trip. To get a change of scenery and let some of the memories fade. The fact that he accompanied us on our route many times over the years might suggest we should have done something different, but we had places we wanted to revisit and friends we wanted to see. We were enjoying the freedom of fewer rest stops, and in some cases better motels. We were on a quest. To find pinion wood for our fire pit. Oh, that aroma!

We purposely left Durango to shun pike through Chama, past the Ghost Ranch and south toward Santa Fe in hopes of finding a roadside truck filled with the aromatic wood for sale. We whizzed by a few before I suggested to Hub he might slow down a bit. It was difficult to see anything ahead of time when we were whipping down the road at 60+ miles per hour! Approaching Santa Fe, traffic took care of the problem and I spotted a whole yard full of piles of fire wood.

They must have pinion! Another pickup was backing onto the property and a pleasant looking young man emerged, talking on his cell phone. "Anyone home?" I asked.

"No one answers," he replied keeping his eye on a passel of dogs who were doing the same of us.

That's when I saw him. In this forsaken excuse of a yard, covered in desert dust. A Saint Bernard. Laying exactly as Bacchus is in the picture. Just watching. I wanted to go to him so badly I had to consciously restrain myself.

"No answer," the young man said.

"Knocking on the door would be less than prudent, " I suggested.

"Too many dogs for me," he agreed.

Yep. Reluctantly I rejoined Hub in our truck. "You can't be sure he's friendly," he said quietly. I just nodded.

On we went. In Santa Fe I scratched the ears of a sweet old Shar Pei that was the house dog at the Christmas Shop. I felt a little better.

Then when visiting our friends in Bloomfield, NM, I got my first real dog fix since August. They raise Bassets and had two puppies left from the latest litter. After dinner, we were introduced and they, along with Mom, were all over me to my unending delight.

The puppies soon were bored with this old lady curled comfortably into the corner of a couch enmeshed in conversation, but I was perfect for Mom. She crawled up next to me and after shuffling around a bit found her comfort zone flat on her back, all four paws totally relaxed, her head in my lap. For the rest of our stay she remained with me as I scratched her ears and brisket; we were both at peace with the world.

They tried mightily to get us to take a puppy. It isn't time yet, by any means, and besides we'd have not been able to take just one. Oh my.

Hub learned something about me on this trip if he didn't already know it. Put an approachable canine anywhere near me and it will always be lovingly acknowledged!

A Minute of Nonsense Just For A Change Of Pace

It seems to be taking forever to get these snippets organized and put together but it is still fun. Sure beats my usual blogging, especially when my followers are clobbering me! Ah, well, to each his own.

Today was one of those days. Our irrigation pump froze and we had a gusher. The router on our computers went out. The Brits are giving Hub a fit on an insurance renewal for a field of oil rigs which will probably put our long awaited vacation on hold one more time. It's freezing cold.

So. I read the headlines and thought, 'Nah, not today'. I'd rather play with my dog. You can too for about 50 seconds!

When You Can Laugh You Know You're Healing!

Bacchus will be with us for a l-o-n-g time to come! We've begun washing the blankets, gathering the toys and vacuuming everything! He had never stopped shedding his winter coat and tumbleweeds of dog fur are everywhere.

In some native American lore it is said the spirit of the departed stays for three days. In Bacchus's case it's probably to make sure his Mom is going to snap out of her funk. It's okay, kid; I'm getting a handle on things.

Yesterday morning Hub heard me fumbling around the kitchen getting my first cup of coffee and came in. He said, "Either Bacchus's spirit is alive and well or we've got a mouse! I saw a dark something scoot out of here when I was getting ready to turn on the light."

"Or you didn't!" I laughed.

We haven't had a mouse in the house since we first moved in. We had a battle royal for about three days and that was the end of it. But, living on five acres in the middle of the prairie, we decided to dig out the live trap, load it up with peanut butter and set it where we thought was strategic. Outside the pantry.

Last night we were watching the tube when we heard the click of the door. Sure enough we had a little guy. Hub took him out to the fence line at the back of the property and let him go. "He didn't want to leave his peanut butter," he was laughing when he came back in. We both laughed. It reminded us of someone else and his taste for "people food".

We resumed watching TV. It wasn't long before another little guy was scurrying around at our feet. Hub got up and reset the trap. "That 'spirit'", he muttered, "wants to make darn sure we have something to do!"

We both laughed. No mouse yet today but we know he's in there! It reminded me of the old Scottish prayer,

From ghosties and ghoulies,
And long-leggety beasties,
And things that go bump in the night,
Good Lord deliver us.

We're doing just fine. We're beginning to laugh.

There are poignant moments too. I was searching for mouse holes in the guest room closet and found a little wooden heart on the floor. It says "Love bears all things". It's probably off one on my stuffed animals from the collection that adorns the guest bed until we have company, then into that closet they go.

What an opportune time to find it. I smiled. How true.

The Last Chapter

I write this for those of you who asked for and faithfully followed my updates on Bacchus. Many of you are strangers who have become caring, compassionate friends. For all the support you have afforded, and your expressions of sympathy, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

He had a good day Wednesday, he had been to the vet for blood work. His heart rate was normal for a vet visit and in some respects his blood work had improved. He had begun to eat again and was as active as he's been able to be.

Thursday Hub went to get him for his first trip outside and he rolled over to get his belly rubbed which was their routine. First thing in the morning and last thing at night was guy time together. They both loved it.

When Hub turned on the bedroom light that morning and asked me to get dressed I knew we had problem. Bacchus had stumbled and his hind legs had given out. I went out and scratched his ears and we waited together until he felt like getting up. He was walking just fine back into the house and out into his back yard.

We watched as he laid down and decided to let him regroup. If he couldn't, we knew what we'd have to do. Hub tried to give him his morning pills and he turned his head away. Okay, we'd let him rest for a bit.

We had a cup of coffee and started the papers then decided to try again. He had gotten up and roamed a bit but then I saw him behind the flower bed he loved to sniff and water for me. But he was laying down.

Sudden death is always a possibility with this disease. We tried to keep undue excitement to a minimum, not wanting to trigger anything, but excitement is not necessarily the cause. That is what took him. It was quick and with no pain. He actually appeared to have been in mid-step from his position. It was that quick. You just never know.

Other than having him just go to sleep and not wake up, there is no better way for him to have gone. We are so grateful for that. We were spared the dreaded euthanasia.

The house is too quiet and will be for some time. Hub took his walk last night and again this morning. I missed hearing the second set of foot steps. We drank too much wine while we reminisced and cried and hugged one another. The only time I've ever seen Hub cry was when we've lost our dogs.

Today is a "keep busy" day while we begin to decide what to do with things. Tomorrow we're going to WSU to say some good byes than just go for a ride. We need to get out.

There will not be another dog. I know many of you think we'll change our mind. Bacchus was a wonderful and deeply loved member of the family and it will take some time for the heartache to heal. The emotional roller coaster has taken a toll on both of us. I know that grief is part of the price of having a pet that you will out live but at our age we're not sure that would again be the case. Eight or ten years down the road we're not at all sure we'd be able to handle the emotional stress nor do we want to go through it again. If we aren't here we have no one to take care of one left behind. We've had six over our forty years together, and for us, that's enough.

Our final thought on the subject is that the chance of having another pass the way Bacchus did is slim to none. We're going to stop with the memories of a great dog and the five who preceded him. It will do; they filled our lifetime.

Bacchus - Good Bye Old Friend

Bacchus

December 28, 1999 - August 19, 2009

We will walk no more together

Tough Love

It was WSU day again for Bacchus. We're beginning our seventh month of controlling his congestive heart failure.

We now have a new cardiology resident, a new cardiology intern and new students passing through on two week rotations. Each has to do their thing with our old boy. It's exhausting for all of us.

No matter, it's a teaching hospital and it's how they learn. I have no argument with their thoroughness. Unfortunately it showed a spate of new or worsening issues. Meds have been adjusted and we'll be monitoring him more closely for a time to see if these changes do or do not work. Our efforts will be no less than before but reality is looking us straight in the eye. Sooner now trumps later. It's tough.

They want to see him again in 5 weeks. That's hopeful. Maybe. Meanwhile things will be handled locally. And the beat goes on. I can only hope it's his heart beat.

Dog Days

With temperatures hovering in the high 80s to mid 90s, it's the dog days of summer as far as I'm concerned!

We do what needs to be done early. Except for Bacchus. He pretty much goes with the flow. His routine is quite consistent. Hub rises at 4:30. I refuse. It's uncivilized! Anyway, he takes Bacchus out with him to pick up the morning papers. Bacchus gets his morning grass angel fix and all the other first thing in the morning stuff. Then back in. Hub starts the papers and has his first cup of coffee. When it's time for his second, Bacchus gets his first batch of pills, between 5 and 5:30, then goes out where the grass is cool and damp and craters.

This is about the time I stagger in, get my coffee, read the papers, shower, eat breakfast and depending on how speedy I am, sometimes get the bed made and the dishes done before 8 which is time for for the second batch of pills and first yogurt.

Usually my old boy comes right in but sometimes he decides he's going to jerk my chain a bit. I don't mind. We always get it done.

It has been just a shade over six months since he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. The trials we've endured have sometimes seemed epic. It does show, however, patience and following the doctor's instruction can pay off. We weaned him from his junk food diet from the early days. He is now back on dog food. Canned and kibble. The improvement in his condition is unbelievable but it took a lot of patience and trial and error.

The reward, other than still having ole fuzzy face with us, is that he's more like an old dog who happens to be sick than a sick dog who happens to be old.

How sweet it is!

People Come And People Go

Funny. Today there is little on television other than the Michael Jackson memorial. Hundreds of thousands of people are saying goodbye to someone they've never met. Yet they grieve inconsolably.

Yesterday was my turn to grieve. I was losing a person who has come to mean a great deal to me. Dr. Sara Bordelon. Bacchus's cardiologist. She has finished her residency at Washington State, taken her boards and is off to the next adventure in her young life. Private practice in Florida. She will have great success. As Dr. Prince once said of her, "She's on it!"

From that first wintry night back in January when we rushed Bacchus to the clinic with congestive heart failure, I knew that if anything could be done she would come up with it. Such was the level of her confidence and her ability to convey it. During the intervening months she fielded e-mails and phone calls from a distraught pet owner with the utmost of grace, assurances and truths. The visits every month were much the same.

As time passed and Bacchus's inundated system began to adjust to the medications I adjusted to the situation. Hub was a great help in my keeping sane. In his calm and measured way he made me understand that what ever will be will be. I'm no longer in a panic. I know what the outcome will be, just not when. I also know that we've given him many additional good months thanks to the skill of Dr. Bordelon. That he's more an old dog who happens to be sick than a sick dog that happens to be old is testimony to that.

When discussing it yesterday she said, "That's what we wanted, isn't it." Indeed.

The photo? I wanted to give her a token of our appreciation and to wish her well. I had carved a Cougar for a project that has been shelved. Since Washington State's mascot is a Cougar I knew she had to have it. All those winter months she would appear with a long pink scarf peeking out from under her lab coat. Being from Louisiana, she was always cold. So I adorned said Cougar with a scarf of it's own and set it on the dining room table for Bacchus's approval. Eh. Sort of silly but okay.

As I sit here writing this my mind drifts back to the Jackson hoopla and thinking how much impact an individual can have on your life. She hasn't died; she's just moving on. She didn't entertain me; she gave life to a dog that I love. We'll stay in touch; I can bounce things off of her if I feel the need. But it won't be the same. I will miss her. The sadness I feel is at least as deep as those mourning Jackson. Such is the nature of a lifeline. The depth of feeling has been earned.

Animal Fare

Saturday morning I was in the bathroom splinting my finger when I glanced out the window and saw a deer staring back! Wow. Our yard is fenced and Bacchus was out there somewhere. It was really cool.

I miss seeing deer in the yard. When we lived in Rochester we had them all day every day. I never tired of seeing them. Here, we live on the prairie and while deer are plentiful they like more cover than we have. She was back yesterday morning too though I'm sure she'll move on soon if she hasn't already. Oh, yeah, Bacchus was sound asleep at the end of the deck and never moved.

When he did move he was snorting and coughing so hard I was afraid he'd have a heart attack. Hub assured me it was just allergies. It continued all day, getting worse, and I was becoming quite concerned.

By Sunday morning I was so concerned I suggested calling WSU to see if it was really allergy or a combination of that and his heart. They had us bring him in and since it was a group of new people unfamiliar with Bacchus and his problems they were at a loss as to what to think. They sent us home to follow up with our vet. 200+ miles and several hours later I'd decided having a medical emergency on Sunday does not bode well. Fortunately Hub was correct; I was the one being paranoid.

Today we had the follow up x-rays done and his heart is fine. Well, let's just say his condition is stable. The allergy issue was just that. We're trying a new medication to see if it will make him more comfortable. Other than that Benedryl will do. I did get the "I told you so" when I got home.

All this got me to thinking, the last time I posted about visiting Ollie I alluded to a goose that had come in for treatment while I was there. My blogging friend Linda wanted to know about him so this one, once again, is for Linda! Uncle Raymond, the goose, is doing just fine. They pinned his leg and it's expected he'll make a full recovery.

Back to business as usual. My finger splint is history, and the stitches removed. With that in mind I'm ready to tackle Obama's health care plans! Maybe tomorrow.

Who'd Have Thunk It!

Tough love works! After a dose of constipation and the reversal of same we decided no more bad diet. It worked. He's eating well now, he's alert and interested in everything, he's sleeping less and romping around like a kid. Well, as much as an old man can romp like a kid.

His cardiologist says it's because of our commitment to him. Maybe, somewhat. I give her the bulk of the credit. She concocted the "cocktail" that has kept him with us. Without it all the commitment in the world would have been for naught.
We of course are absolutely astounded and thrilled with the change in him. To look at him you'd never know he was suffering from congestive heart failure. Hmmm. Maybe there is something to eating a healthy diet!

There have been times when these updates have been difficult to write. He was doing that poorly. This one is pure joy. May it continue for a good long time!

The Week That Was...

What has been a very short week is winding down. Blogging has sure taken a back seat between the holiday, gardening and Bacchus.

Thursday he had an appetite so I pretty much let him eat as much as he wanted. Actually it was mostly chicken instead of his usual diet of sausages. The high fat diet, however, caught up with him that evening when his whole digestive system rebelled. He and Hub were gone an inordinately long time for their last walk. He just couldn't get anything out and completely exhausted himself trying. He had to take a breather even before returning to the house.  Which really scared Hub.  An uncomfortable night followed.

By pill time Friday morning everything had reversed itself and I had to clean him up. Hub and I decided it was time for some tough love. No more junk. We'd rather he fade away from not eating rather than kill himself trying cope with a bad diet.  Oh, he'll get fed all right.  It's just time to call the old boy's bluff and for Mom (me) to get some backbone!

Off to the vet for a shave and a haircut. And some more pills to settle his system. Today he's sulking but he's also feeling a whole lot better.

Fortunately, for the sake of my humor, my good friend Word Tosser came down from Sandpoint and met me for lunch. No blogging. Just visiting.

Same thing today. Yard work. Unless something really grabs my attention I anticipate the same for tomorrow. Monday I have surgery on my hand so I doubt I'll be at the computer then either.

Now, that's more than you wanted to know, but it's why the substance of the blog is a bit different this week.  Every once in awhile life without the computer just needs lived!

Puppy Love

Every once in awhile I figure I've done something right. If I hadn't, I don't know how I rate the wonderful "animal" people that have passed through my life over the years. None have meant more to me than the ones I have now.

You met Ollie a couple of weeks ago when I took Bacchus to meet him. He belongs to one of the vet techs. Last week she and the staff had been talking about us and were wondering how we were doing. So she gave me a call. Just to touch base. And to deliver a standing invitation to drop by whenever I was in the area to visit with Ollie. These are special, caring people. There will be a time when I'm sure they'll see more of me than they'd like.

I had to go to the grocery store today and it's right around the corner. I called to see if they were busy and was told to come on in. I did. With camera in hand. The proud Mom doesn't have a camera and you know parents need pictures of their kids. So every once in awhile I'll bop in and snap a few for her or take a short video. Today, still in my gardening clothes and looking like I have a death grip on him, I had my picture taken too.

When circumstances permit, like it's a bit cooler, I'll take Bacchus with me. He's still enjoying his outings and the interaction with one of his own! Dr. Prince came in from her lunch break while I was there. We talked about how full the cycle has become. What Ollie's Mom is going through with him, I'm repeating with my dear old man. Same issues, different ages. I revel and reminisce in her enthusiasm for the breed, comparing notes, answering questions and experiencing again the absolute joy of a new puppy.

I'm finding the experience fascinating, poignant and very, very special.

Saints Alive!

Some days are just plain better than others. Today was one such.

I had to talk with our vet this morning and mentioned Bacchus had an eye that was bothering him. Off we went to get some ointment and a chance to see two of his favorite ladies. Our vet and a Saint loving tech who has often assisted with him.

To our delight she had her brand new puppy at the clinic due to a sore paw and a house left empty. I felt pretty comfortable having them meet. After all his doctor was right there. For you Bacchus fans, enjoy. You'll understand why I love this doctor.

Motherhood In All It's Glory

I remember back when I was arranging for care givers for my Mother. One lady said to me caring for the elderly was not so different from caring for babies. They were just bigger. I remember thinking my Mom would have been livid at that assessment.

The care giver had her point though. I've been giving a lot of thought to the practice of "mothering" these days. I don't have children, but I'm mothering never-the-less, with Bacchus. Our animals are the only ones we go full cycle with as a general rule. For humans, parents aren't supposed to outlive their children. Unfortunately, that isn't always the way. I understand that pain. Even if my experience has been with dogs. It is my reality.

We started with a bundle of fluff, albeit a large one, that you could watch grow on a daily basis. We struggled through potty training, teething, switching from baby food to adult food. We lived through the terrible twos to the teens all within two years. We enjoyed the antics and adventures of youth and the dignity that came with maturity. We nursed scrapes and scratches and runny noses and sticky stuff in fur and bug bites. And now we wake each morning wondering if the old grey head will rise once more. Full cycle.

Mother's Day is a designated day of appreciation for all of this.

Spring is the perfect time. I remember many years ago when I did publicity for a small zoo in Washington. Spring birthing season was the time of year to get the TV crews to come out and photograph the new born. I've been marvelling at the mating and nesting habits of our backyard birds. The broken wing act of the Killdeer and the ferocious in-your-face screeching when you get to close, to the bullying of the Magpies. We have them all. They're all wonderful, living creatures bringing life into this world and nurturing it until it's able to fend for itself.

A couple of weeks ago a friend sent me a link to a live feed of an eagle's nest. I've watched her sit the eggs, watched them hatch and watched her feed them. She fusses over them, warms them, it touches one's soul.

It's a female thing that spans species wherever and whatever they may be. It's who we are and what we are meant to do in the grand scheme of things, each in our own way.

Another video has been making the rounds. I've received it from several people. It's a couple of years old, has been edited to be a nature film and sums it up perfectly. Add your look to the three million who have already viewed it. Don't mute it, the track is part of the story. It's motherhood - in all it's glory.