Brooklyn is Our May 25, 2014 Pup of the Week

I must admit that before I crossed the River of Life I had visited Rainbow Bridge before.  My Boston Terrier friends, McKinsie, Promise, Megan, would visit me in my dreams and take me to the Bridge, which helped me greatly when I made my journey

I have very important things to do as a Judge here but when I get my playtime I enjoy spending lots of it with McKinsie, Promise and Megan, and sometimes, in their dreams, the rest of their pack joins us.  I enjoy the balance of who amongst the Boston Terrier pack is here, and who is on the other side of the Bridge.  But now the balance has been upset as Brooklyn is in very serious condition and in need of many prayers.

It started during an innocent day of play.  Much like my sister Pocket Brooklyn loves to chase balls.  Brooklyn was playing with her brother Parker when they both went for the ball and crashed mid-air.  Brooklyn was knocked unconscious for over five minutes.  When she did come around her eyes didn’t seem right.  But Brooklyn acted fine and her Mom hoped it would pass.

But Brooklyn wasn’t bouncing back.  Her Mom could see, through Brooklyn’s expressive eyes that she was in pain, and there was swelling in her neck.  Mom hurried Brooklyn to the vet who prescribed an antibiotic hoping that it would clear up whatever was wrong, but it had little effect as Brooklyn grew worse until it became apparent that she had lost her eyesight and was crying in pain.

Brooklyn’s pack, affectionately known as the Magnificent 7, were upset and hovered over her.  She is their leader, their protector, their guide.  

The following morning Mom took Brooklyn back to the vet who said that Brooklyn had swelling behind her eye, possibly an abscess from the accident, or a tumor.

The vet thought that medication was still the best treatment.  Over the following days the roller coaster effect was in full force.  One day she was leading the seven outside to their pee spot and drinking water, the next not seeing things that were right in her face.  But she did improve with medication, the real test would be when she went off the medication.

Soon, after being taken off her medication, Brooklyn’s vision problems and pain returned.  The vet checked her over and while he knew something was wrong because she was showing sensitivity in the head and neck.  He didn’t think it was a tumor, and put her on medication again, but Brooklyn did not respond.  In fact, she got worse, losing her balance and being unable to walk.

The vet believed it was inflammation in the neck from her crash.  He prescribed laser treatments to relieve the inflammation.  The roller coaster began again.  She would have a good day, then a bad day, bringing high hopes than none at all.  Friday night she took a turn to the worse and was in a semi-conscious state.

Her Mom believed she had a brain tumor, or an injury from the mid-air collision with Parker, and she asked all dogs to play with a tennis ball that day for Brooklyn, who she was convinced was headed to the Bridge.

Mom called the vet to schedule the appointment for Brooklyn’s departure.  But the vet wanted to hold out for a miracle.  There was a possibility that there was something non-life threatening wrong with Brooklyn, and she could not let Brooklyn leave without eliminating every possibility.

They went to the vet’s office to do x-rays which turned up something unexpected.  Brooklyn had a very serious infection in the inner ear and sinus cavities.  She was given fluids by bolus under the skin and injected with antibiotics then sent home with prescriptions with more antibiotics and anti-inflammation medication.  The vet said the recovery would be slow, and, if there is a seizure there would be no way to stop her trip to the Bridge.  Her Mom even asked me not to allow her to cross the Bridge and I said I would do everything I could to keep her on the mortal side of life.

The last report I received about Brooklyn was yesterday morning.  She was not improving.  She had to receive medicine and water by syringe.  She could not stand on her own. She was lying still taking very deep breaths.  

Her Mom wrote this description of her love “Brooklyn is the joy of our family of Bostons, she is the leader, the ball player, the referee, the Red head of the family...she does agility and is a natural as her Aunt Promise (who is with me at the Bridge) , and was about to make her splash into the agility ring this summer...she is a love, but no one touches her ball, and her joy is chasing it and bringing it to me...keeping it away from the others....”

For Brooklyn to survive is going to take the greatest miracle ever, but, if it’s possible, we can do it.  Just pray for one more day with Brooklyn, just one more day for Brooklyn to be with the Magnificent Seven, and if that answer is yes then pray again tomorrow, and if the answer is yes, then do it for a week of tomorrow’s, then a month, then a year, then a ten thousand tomorrows, until Brooklyn has lived a good, long life, and not the six years she has had.

Brooklyn has been knock, knock, knocking on the Bridge door for a while now, but we are ignoring it, because she deserves so many more tomorrows, so many more balls thrown, so many more days of sunshine with her Mom.

I know us little group of dogs ask for a lot of miracles.  Can’t we have this one?  Please?

Ask Aunt Foley

Dear Aunt Foley:  What is up with humans and spring cleaning?  The Girls

Dear Girls:  Personally, I never understood what was up with humans and cleaning.  I think a messy house is a house that shows how much humans love their dogs.  But my Mom was a big fan of the cleaning.  Daddy used to tell her you can’t have a sparkling clean house and two dogs but she still has not given up her quest.

Since I can’t answer why they clean I can’t tell you why they want to do more of it in the spring.  I guess it’s because they are starting to tend to the gardens and the lawns, cleaning them, and decide to do the house too, but wouldn’t it make more sense doing it in November when they don’t have the lawn to do?   I have tried to explain human behavior to my friends but honestly, most of the time they remain a mystery

Of course I know what prompted this question.  Like most dogs, when their parents clean, I am sure that you just curl up and watch with either a frustrated or bemused expression on your face, but then they start digging into your toy boxes and deciding what toys you do or don’t need.

This is such an invasion of our rights.  We should be able to keep our toys no matter how gross and spit covered they are.  But not according to our parents.  And then when we try to return the “favor” and go into open drawers to pull out clothes they don’t need, or rip apart shoes that are out of fashion they get mad.

So I say spring cleaning for all or no spring cleaning!  And keep your dirty hands which are attached to your dirty feet in your out of fashion shoes which should be thrown out off our freaking toys.

Wordless Wednesday

For the Forgotten Dogs By Foley Monster

I have been either living with humans, or observing them from above for a long time now, and one part of my human studies have been completed.  I can now state with 100% accuracy that the best way to measure a human is by how they treat their pets.

Admittedly I cannot judge non pet owners.  There are some who don’t own pets because they can’t provide for them, and some poor souls have allergies and can’t have a pet, but almost all humans at some point have encountered  pets and I can use that evidence to make a partial decision of their righteousness.

As I have written before us dogs are on Earth for one reason and that is to love and give comfort to humans.  A very high of percentage of dogs get that love back, but some are abused, and, although not as painful as abuse, some simply are ignored.  We have to share the love that is in our hearts, and if we are unable to, the pain eats away at our hearts as much as the loss of a loved one does.

This happens to some of us after a baby is born.  Mommy has seen young married couples with their dogs and they treat them like their baby.  Then the actual baby comes and the dogs are either kept in the cellar, outside, or made to stay in one room or sit in a corner.  Both Mommy and I wonder if this is the type of human parent they are what kind of dog parent are they going to be?

I pray every night that all dogs have good homes, some of them just have to settle for homes where they don’t get any love.  But I wonder about those dogs who had love and were then pushed aside when their parent lose interest.

I don’t know if it is better to have been loved then it would be to never have been loved at all.  At least you don’t know what you lost.

Molly is out May 18, 2014 Pup of the Week

People ask me what I miss the most about life on the mortal side of the Bridge and of course I answer my Mom, then my Dad, and Pocket, and all my friends,  but honestly, the first thing that pops into my head is chicken.

Oh how I loved chicken.  The smell, the taste, the texture.  Sure, we can get chicken up here, but since nothing really dies in the immortal life, it’s not real chicken.  It’s like pizza on the West Coast.  They call it pizza, but it’s not pizza.  We have chickens happily running around here, and man I would love to chop one of their heads off, rip out their guts, build a fire and roast those little suckers up, but it’s against all sorts of rules, and my understanding is it still wouldn’t taste like chicken.

I don’t think I could stand to live in a world where there were real chickens and we weren’t able to eat them.  And yet my friend Molly has an allergic reaction to chicken.  And to make it worse she got to taste chicken, she knows how good it is, and then it then she got chicken snatched out of her grasp.

But ultimately Molly’s story is one of survival and that’s what counts the most.  For a long time Mollie had terrible tummy issues, with stuff coming out both ends.  Vet trips after vet trip were made and there were no answers.  Her Mom became more sad and frustrated.  And then came the horrible diagnosis that cured everything.

Now Molly must go through life without the best tasting part of life:  chicken.  While I am happy that she is getting healthy I feel so sorry for her, having to live a chickenless life.  And living chickenless isn’t as easy as just going to buy food and treats with another protein listed on the front because chicken is very plentiful and most dog foods like to add a bit ot if to their recipes even if it doesn’t say chicken in big letters on the package.

This week Molly went seven days without taking the medicine for her tummy with no adverse results so this is a big week for her and her parents.  I would rather have a long life with my Mommy than chicken.  I did deliberate about this for a long time but it’s what I decided.

So here is to Molly and to all healthy recovering dogs.  The more healthy, recovering dogs we have the less work I have to do and less work makes me happy.

It gives me more time to eat crappy tasting fake chicken.

Ask Aunt Foley

Dear Aunt Foley:  Hi, I’m another young dog new to their home.  I have an embarrassing secret.  I am a victim of excitable pee.  When someone comes over the house, or something happens that gets my blood flowing, my pee flows too.  Is this normal?  What can I do about it?  Am I in danger of losing my new home?  - Lacey

Dear Lacey:  I have heard of this a lot, in fact my sister Pocket still suffers from it.  But the term excitable peeing is not correct.  What you are actually suffering from is what is known as peeing praecox or prematures peeulation.  (This is also known as early peeing, rapid peeing, rapid urination, and premature pee-pee.)

Although dogs who prematurely pee describe feeling that they have less control over peeing it is not clear if that is true.  Many if not most dogs report they wish they could last longer in between pees.  

The causes of premature peeing are unclear.  Many theories have been suggested including that PP was the result of peeng quickly during adolescence to avoid being caught by a parent who would punish them.

The good news is that there are self treatments that can be done to solve your problem.  One way it to try and think of something besides peeing. Something like sports or their litter Mom after being groomed.   There is little evidence to indicate that this is effective.  Other self-treatments include squatting slower, stepping off the rug completely, peeing before you become excited and using more than one pee pad, although this could lead to pee pad breakage.  Also many dogs have gone to pee therapists who have cured 75 to 80 percent of premature pee-ers.

Either way know that you are not alone.

Foley's Revenge by River Song

I know Foley has informed all of you that we have started gardening after a winter colder than the wicked witch’s underwear and longer than a James Franco text message to a 15 year old girl with references to a body part which he refers to as the Great and Powerful Oz.  I am just going to come right out and say it:  That dude freaks me out.

Anyway, back to the garden.  My Mommy has a bad neck which is connected to her bad back which is connected to her bad spine which is connected to her bad hip which is connected to her bad legs which is connected to her had knee which lead to her bad feet.  The woman is bad.

Foley has given us strict orders not to let Mommy overwork.   But on Monday the weather was cool, and the work was progressing without incident.  Pocket and I were chilling in the stroller, watching the pruned people walk by, the birds flying overhead, insects happily buzzing.

We went past the two hour mark.  Daddy, who is also on strict orders from Foley decided, on his own , that Mommy could work for at least another hour.  Mommy hates to get out of the garden more than an acid freak at Woodstock so she was happy to stay.  All of us forgot Foley and what would surely be her revenge.

Finally Daddy told Mommy it was time to stop.  She turned and looked at him like a dog who had just spent an hour chasing a rabbit, had finally caught it, and while exhausted, had saved the energy to devour it, and was now being told to come in.  But like all good parents Daddy insisted Mommy was tired, needed to come in, and, if she didn’t, would, like the dog with a rabbit, spend the rest of the day on the toilet.

None of us had considered how much we had angered Foley until it was time for us to get out  of our stroller.  Daddy took a hold of the zipper and pulled but nothing happened.  Both Pocket and I were barking loudly wanting to get out to run free and finally pee.  Daddy worked on the zipper but it wouldn’t budge.  Foley had frozen it trapping us in the stroller as punishment.

As Pocket and I were panicking, picturing a life stuck living in a buggy but Daddy used his almost human like strength to rip the zipper and we were free.  But the buggy was busted, having taken the brunt of Foleys wrath over us overworking Mommy.

Mommy ordered us a new buggy (actually three new buggies. Mommy got into a little keystroke problem with Amazon and we ended up with three spacious pink buggies, but she was able to return them.)  When gardening day we went out and enjoyed the new room and the bluetooth capabilities of the new buggy.

We completely forgot how long we were out there for.  Suddenly, for no reason, our new buggy tipped over and we could hear the faint sound of Foley chuckling.  We knew then it was time to go in.  

Luckily we learned some lessons from the experience.

Check your shopping cart before you pay.

Don’t let Mommy work too long in the garden.

And don’t mess with Foley.