Another year, another vet

Another year another new vet. In my 12 years with Mom I have visited seven vets. Mommy never finds one who fits just right.

First there was a doctor in Norton whose waiting room was filled and many pups fought in. Second there was Raynham where our brother Jax went to the Bridge after a poor diagnosis by a man with brains like a lamb. Third there was Westbridge but they saw so many dogs there some of them would get lost over the ridge. Fourth there was Middleboro Clinic but the high costs brought out in Mom the cynic. Fifth was a doc at Southeast Vets but when he retired the new doctor was not kind to pets. Sixth was in North Attleboro but the high cost filled Mommy with sorrow, Now we go to a vet in Dighton that hopefully will make my Mom’s face brighten. And now that the effects of the shots have worn off over time, I will no longer be writing this blog in rhyme.

Monday, while Mommy and Daddy were preparing to go out,  Pocket and I were expecting to get shoved in our room when, instead, Daddy grabbed our leashes. Both of us got very excited, jumping and barking. I don’t know why we do that. We never go anywhere fun. We are either going to be groomed or prodded, But still the sight of those leashes overwhelm us with the possibility of fun.

We got in our car seats and were driven by Daddy Lackey and Mommy to a place we had never visited before. What could it be? A doggy fun house? A place where all our friend were?

Nope, it was a new place where we were going to get stuck in the rectum and not one of the fun place to get stuck in the rectum where Daddy Lackey’s “Uncles” go. There were no dogs in the waiting room which was nice because Pocket and I got to explore but caused me concern because either she didn’t have any customers or they were all at the Bridge.

Mommy filled out the forms. She asked Daddy what colors we were. He said black and tan. I was thinking perfect and wonderful. The forms were done and the torture was to begin.

The doctor was a lady. It has been a long time since I’ve had a lady doctor. Old men, older men, young men, thin men, mean men, smelly men, men, men, men, manly men men men. So I welcomed the tender touch of a female.

She checked my teeth but unlike the Southeast vet who didn’t like pets she did not announce my tartar was the final stage of death and did not demand a cleaning. She checked my butt but didn’t insist on squeezing and fondling like the man from the Middleboro clinic who made my Mom a cynic. When it came time to discuss shots she listened to my Mom unlike the doctor from North Attleboro who filled Mom with sorrow. And she did not stick anything up my rectum which would have ruined my Monday The whole exam took less than ten minutes and she gave me a clean bill of health. During my exam Pocket, who frets over me, and hates to see me getting attention, was panting and whimpering.

Now it was Pocket’s turn and while she continued to pant and whimper I looked out the window not really concerned about what was going on. Been there saw that. Her exam was done faster than mine because there were more things to ignore on her than on me.

Finally it was time for the weigh in. Mommy kept talking about how much I would weigh because of what she calls my “Buddha belly.” But guess what? I dropped half a pound. Take that lollipops.

Then came the big step. The bill. But Mommy was happy. So maybe we have a repeat vet.  A Lady Doctor who told me I lost a half a pound didn’t brush my teeth or squeeze my anus. That makes her tops for me.

Wordless Wednesday

Willie is our January 13, 2013 Pup of the Week

I am not a fan of roller coasters. The ups, the down, the slow, the fast, the certainty of crashing, the beauty of the view from up high. Of course I have never actually been on a roller coaster but I have been taken on some emotional ones in my time.

But no pup I know has been taken on more of an emotional roller coaster than my friend Willie Nillie. Not only has it been filled with great highs and devastating lows but it has gone on for almost three years.

In 2010 Willie told  to us a that he had a form of cancer. He had a tumor on his right leg between the paw and the knee.  The cancer was non life threatening but Willie needed to have surgery. The surgeon removed most  of Willie's tumor, but it had spread from his lower leg into the top of his paw.  It became entwined around his tendons, stuck to his bone and wrapped around a vein.  The Doctor said she had to remove his vein, his  tendons had be removed to facilitate healing, and the tumor would grow back. Willie came home and recovered well from the surgery.

But there was a big downhill on the horizon. A visit to the oncologist. And then the paw began to become a problem. Jessie developed a hot spot on it and a recovery that started before Halloween pushed past Thanksgiving.

They saw the Radialogist who said Willie had a Grade 2 Neurofibrosarcoma. He had 18 radiation treatments over  several weeks. They got interrupted by Christmas and a terrible blizzard. The only problem Willie had was some burning on his paw. After radiation the healing began and there was some problem bleeding and soreness. But Willie, like all pups, was getting sick of the pain and bleeding and began licking his paw. This put him in the cone of shame for three weeks. Over that time his parents thought his tumor coming back but luckily, for now, it had not. At this time what had occurred starting at Halloween had pushed past Easter:  Easter 2011.

And the paw was still not healing right. The doctor thought the radiation used to kill the tumor had also killed lots of Willie’s healthy tissue. Around Memorial Day the paw had finally started to heal, but a few weeks later Willie started licking it again, and he reopened the wound, meaning no beach for him that summer.

The next step was to put a blue wrap on his paw. The doctor surmised that he was licking his paw because the new tissue growing back over his wound felt funny. Then the runaway car that was carrying his family began to speed out of control downhill again. There was another mass behind his back paw on his upper leg. The doctor took a needle biopsy and the pack had to wait a week. The result was not good. The sarcoma had returned.

The doctor told his parents it was probable that they would have to choose between amputation and the Bridge. Then their car began to climb again. The doctor said that the cancer was grade one which meant it had not spread to his lungs.

But the tumor continued to grow. And then the hurricane hit the East Coast. No not that hurricane. We are still in 2011. This was Irene. They survived the hurricane and Willie fought off  a bout of the runs and they kept going.

Then another downhill. The tumor had grown so large they were afraid it had broken Willie’s leg. Another surgery was needed. But instead of surgery the doctor’s decided to put him in a shoulder sling because the bone had not broken. Soon Willie was walking on all fours again.  His paw was healing and hair was growing on his tumor. Things were looking up for Willie as he passed his third year anniversary of his first tumor surgery.

But then things slowly began to take a turn for the worse. Around Valentine’s Day he was limping again But under doctor’s care he started walking on all fours.

By spring it seems like he is on his way to recovery. In June the tumor began to grow again and Willie went to his Dr Kari who was worried that it was red and swollen.

In July the tumor was back to being out of control. It was bleeding, and could not support his weight. The tumor kept growing. It ruptured the skin over it causing bleeding. Also it became infected. Willie soon was wearing the cone of shame as he kept trying to fix the problem himself caused  more bleeding.

They took Willie to a holistic vet to see if he could help. Gradually Willie started to feel better. Don’t know if it was from the antibiotics or the herbal medicine. He was eating, barking, and playing. On August 31 his Mom reported that his infection was going away and they hoped in two weeks he would be back to being healthy.

But the persistent tumor kept growing. In September it grew from 16 cm to 21 cm around in four weeks. His parents began to resign themselves to the fact that the leg may need to be amputated. The doctor disagreed and said that she could cut away the infected part of the tumor and keep Willie as a four legged pup. In October, despite being in pain, Willie was back to walking on all fours again,. He had some stitches in his paw to keep the tumor from bleeding.

Then came Hurricane Sandy. While their home was spared their neighbors’ houses suffered significant damage. They were without electricity for more than a week and cut off from their very worried friends. And then, still without power, a Nor’easter hit, leaving them buried in heavy wet snow. It was not until near Thanksgiving that they got power. Through everything the family went through they still found the strength to give thanks on Thanksgiving for their blessings.

By the first week of January Willie was back to being a three legged dog. His paw was throbbing again. The pain was so bad he was turning aggressive to other dogs in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. The vet determined that he had a broken toe.

On January 7 the news was quite bad. There was a massive infection in the area where he received radiation. The doctor thought the breakage was caused by the cancer. His sad Mom became resigned to Willie never gaining use of his paw again.

And then another doctor said that the break was not caused by the cancer. And Willie started healing. And their car started rising again. Looking at it all, it is incredible what they have been through, and how they have survived it all.

So let’s give prayers that Willie’s and his family keep rising, and after they have been through they deserve a nice long quiet break.

You keep getting better Willie and we will keep praying.

A Scene From Our Home Early Morning

A scene from Pocket’s and Foley’s house

Setting:  Early morning, cold winter day.

Pocket and Foley emerge from the bedroom with their Daddy Lackey. Pocket is being carried, Foley is waddling forward. Daddy Lackey goes over to the thermostat turning up the heat so the house is not freezing. Pocket shudders because she hates when the heat comes through the floorboards.

Pocket is placed on the kitchen floor while Foley licks up some water from a bowl. Daddy Lackey puts on a jacket, a coat, and a ski cap, then goes on porch making sure the dogs do not follow.  He grabs a poop bag, the dog harnesses and coats. He goes over to the kitchen table. He gets a sweater or shirt from the Hattie Mae collection that the pups’ Mommy had laid out for them the night before.

He puts the sweater on Foley who puts up her paws fighting to keep it from going on but finally she lets it be slipped over her head. Pocket, while Foley is being dressed, crosses behind Daddy Lackey headed to the bedroom.  Daddy Lackey calls her.  She stops, looking confused. She turns back to the bedroom, gets called again, and walks back to her Daddy Lackey. While the sweater is going on she turns, squirms, boxes, shakes and finally relents to it being put on.

The harness goes over the shirt or sweater. This way the beauty of the Hattie Mae collection is not hindered by the undergarment. The harness goes on simply but Daddy Lackey has to be careful. If you don’t put the harness on correctly then the dog can break free. If Foley breaks free she just continues about her business knowing she will be safely harnessed soon. If Pocket breaks free she begins darting back and forth as if she has become an untethered balloon. Daddy Lackey has to chase her down before she gets in trouble.

Then Daddy Lackey takes the two jackets and slips the leash through the hole in the jacket. He does this because it is very hard to find the clasp on the harness after you put the jacket on. By slipping the leash through the jacket and then clasping it the entire process is easier. And, by this time, both dogs, standing on the cold floor, and walking back and forth, really have to pee, so expediency is of the utmost importance.

Daddy Lackey then hooks the leash on to the clasp and put the velcro straps around their neck and their stomachs. Finally it is time for the dogs to go outside. They walk out to the porch. Suddenly a stricken look comes over Pocket’s face as she digs her heels in.

“What is wrong?” Daddy Lackey asks Pocket.

“Daddy, I know you spent all this time getting me dressed to go out in the snow but I have to pee.”

“That’s why we’re going outside Pocket,” Daddy said.

“Oh that’s good,” she says following him outside whistling a happy tune.

Wordless Wednesday

JuJu is our January 6, 2013 Pup of the Week

 
When I first came to my home I was met by a beautiful female lollipop just over five years of age, named Blake. I was put on the floor as I entered the strange house that would become my forever home and the man who would become my Daddy Lackey went up the stairs. There was a scent of another dog in the house but I was too busy checking everything out to worry about it.

Then I saw on the last landing of the stairs a beautiful black and white Shih Tzu. She was much larger than me and I didn’t know if I should be scared but this Shih Tzu ran over to me barking, with her tail wagging, and welcomed me into our home. That dog was Blake.

Blake immediately began to tell me all the rules and regulations of the house, and how to be adorable and get around them all. I don’t know if I would have turned into the manipulative monster that I am without her wisdom. But one morning, shortly after I arrived home, Blake’s little body began to move uncontrollably, foam came out of her mouth, and a very distraught Mommy and Daddy held her until she calmed down. Soon she was back to normal.

When our humans were preparing to go to work I sidled over to my friend and asked what had happened.   She told me she had a seizure. The doctors didn’t know why she was having them, but they were becoming worse and more frequent. “That is why you are here,” she whispered to me. “Mommy wants you to learn everything from me before I get called to the Bridge.”

And I did learn everything, how to beg for food, how to cuddle, how to tree a squirrel, how to be there for my parents: I would not be the dog I am today without Blake Bear. A little over a year later, as her seizures became worse, and she began to lose motor control, she told me her time was near, and, on election day in 2001, she made the trip to the Bridge.

Since then I have shown particular concern for any pup that is having seizures which is why I am writing about my friend Ju Ju. She has recently had three seizures that have scared her Mom very much. She had to spend a night in the hospital, and, if there is a Mom reading this, and they have ever had their baby in the hospital for a night, they know that is the longest night ever. The dogtors were not sure why JuJu was having seizures and sent her home.

Two nights nights later she had another seizure, this one longer and scarier.
Juju’s sibling Pepper gets very scared and tried to attack the seizure out of Juju causing another problem: Juju’s Mom doesn’t want to leave them alone, and is considering daycare for Juju.

Now, since Blake passed, there have been lots of advances in treatments and the diagnosis of seizures. Also there were no sites like Doggyspace, the Tanner Brigade, or Dog Bloggers, to discuss what to do when a pup has a seizure and aleve some of the pup’s parent’s fears.

There are dogs that have lived with seizures, Cocoa Puff comes to mind, and there are many more. Medical scientists have learned a lot about dogs with seizures that they did not know when Blake was alive. So I am asking the Heavenly Pack Leader and our other pup friends for help.

First I would like all our pup friends who have experience with seizures and are living normal lives to post here and let JuJu, Pepper, and their Mom know that Juju should be fine, and what medications they are taking to help prevent the seizures. For those with more than one pup she needs suggestions about what to do with Pepper, since the can’t be separated in the house when they are alone and her Mom is afraid of Perrp attacking Juju.  And I would like everyone to pray for JuJu so the dogtors can find what is wrong with her and prescribe the medicine to help her.

My sister Blake has a sad ending but thanks to social media and medical research, if she were alive today she would have had a full long life with our family. And I pray, I hope, and I believe, that JuJu will too.

Foley versus the Stairs

I know I have aged in the last few years but I didn’t know I got old. You know how you can tell that you’ve gotten old? They start buying you things to “help” you when you never asked for any help.

Now I have had some weight shift as I have aged. A lot of my weight is now behind me, but not in a good way. So I don’t have the lift off I used to have. I have the same amount of lift off that George Costanza had when he was trying to model Jimmy’s training shoes. Foley’s getting frustrated.

Now my favorite spot to sit in is Mommy’s recliner. And when I was younger I could jump in the air, spin around, dunk two basketballs, fart out the window, and land smoothly on the seat. Up until yesterday I was getting in my chair that sits next to Mommy’s big comfy, and either make a leap of faith and put my butt in the Lord’s hands, or whined until Mommy picked me up. I was perfectly happy with this system. But Monday morning something terrible happened: Daddy had an idea.

Mommy and Daddy, without my knowledge, had been discussing buying stairs for me. I didn’t need no stinking stairs, but I could tolerate them if they came from a respectable store with Pet in the name. But no, Daddy saw that stairs were on sale at CVS for $10.00. CVS? That’s where they have the crappy dog treats and toys that people buy when they realize on their way home from work that they had forgotten their dog’s birthday. He couldn’t possibly have bought me stairs from CVS.

But he did. (I appreciate the booing but his heart was in the right place even though his head was up his wazoo.) He brought it home and snapped the pieces together (and isn’t this the term you want used for stairs, or any device made for your safety, snapped together? Come on Mrs Foley we just got done snapping together your wheelchair and handicapped ramp, let’s roll you up the stairs.)

They put the sherpa covering on it. I was so upset that a mountain guide had to give his life for that tacky covering. Then Mommy put my front paws on the bottom step and her hands on my butt, which was total sexual harassment, left them there to linger a little too long, then slightly began to push me up the stairs. I dug my feet into the poor sherpa carcass and refused to move. They then used my harness to pull me up the stairs. My harness! Made for my personal protection and now used against me. They got me to the highest of the three steps near the recliner and then, while holding the harness, they said the word jump. like I am so stupid that I wouldn’t know to jump, and lifted me into the chair.

OK, fine, I was the in the chair, mission accomplished. But then they put me on the floor and did the whole procedure, including the useless jump phrase repeated, to try to train me to lose the stairs.

They had not further luck so they sunk to the depths that all humans sink to in training dogs to climb, the kibble. They put a kibble on one step and I ate it, and we repeated it for the second step. Then they put it on the top step.  I wanted nothing to do with the rickety top of the snapped together stair built by people with no building experience. So, from the second step, I just stretched my neck, used my tongue and snatched the kibble. We were back to them lifting up by the harness one step at a time.

After several attempts Daddy noticed that the height of the steps was actually lower than the chair I had been jumping from. The intensity of their training waned. And the stairs were headed for the big closet full of things like the barker and other devices purchased to either aid me or control me that were abandoned after I proved their futility. The next morning, when I thought no one was paying attention, I snuck up the stairs and got into the recliner. But Daddy saw me. So now they keep the stairs near the recliner when no one is sitting in it to help me up. Maybe someday I will use them. If nobody’s looking. Can’t let the humans think they bought something useful. It’s just not right.