Better late than never
The former DLD (Dog Liver Disease) support group I have referred to in many of my previous posts changed its name to Dog Liver Shunt and Disease (DLSD).
The new web address is:
It is still a Yahoo support group addressing the needs and care for dogs with liver disease. I have a lot to say about the benefits of joining this group if you are looking for a community of people who all have dogs with liver disease and share a wealth of information and knowledge on relevant topics ranging from testing to nutrition, supplements, acupuncture, prescription dog food options, meds, surgery, etc.
I used “strike-out” to show what no longer applies, which is the “new” blog no longer exists.
This blog is the original one and lives on…
New POSTS are all on my new dog blog: www.mingsdogblog.com (Ming’s Dog Blog).
However, I have kept comments open on this blog. New comments and replies to pre-existing posts [will] continue to be posted [here], especially in regards to the Bile Acid Test post, which has a good and easy to understand explanation of the Bile Acid Test. This popular post called Demystifying the Bile Acid Test Using Shaili’s Results can be seen here: https://solarwomen.wordpress.com/2009/01/17/demystifying-the-bile-acid-test-using-shailis-results/.
I may reinstate “mingsdogblog” later, however the bulk of the dog liver disease related posts I made are on this blog.
I lost the domain and haven’t had time to keep blogging, however I will continue to respond to comments and questions regarding dog health issues. Good thing I still have this wordpress blog.
Original post below, with comment from today in parentheses:
- To see posts after 3/15/09, please go to:
- http://www.mingsdogblog.com (Note: this site no longer exists, but I may reinstate the domain later; 5/30/14)
This is the first sample of the dog bed I asked my girlfriend to make. She sent me the pix and I must say the bed looks even more beautiful than I imagined.
The dimensions of the frame was made to fit a standard pillow. I recommend a gusseted one. The beautiful thing about this bed is that you can use a regular sham of your choice on a standard pillow.
It’s a bed that will last for generations. The Aspen is hand gathered from fallen trees in Colorado and each bed is a unique woodwork creation by Elizabeth Battaglia, a furniture and jewelry designer with an eye for nature and beauty. See her site at elementsbylizzie.com
Standard pillow case sized bed
Winsworth & Nemo on the “standard” bed
The sizes of frames will include:
#1) Small Breed bed takes a Standard pillow: 20″ x 26″ ($275 for frame, $25 custom cover)
#2) Small-Medium Breed bed takes a European Square pillow: 26″ x 26″
#3) Small Breed 2-Dog Bed takes a Queen Pillow: 20″ x 30″
#4) Small Breed 3-Dog Bed based on King Pillow: 20″ x 36″
A friend sent me this video to cheer me up. It did the job. Who knew baby pigs were so cute, would be so attached to humans and could swim! Thanks for sending the link Dawn!
Without clicking on it, scroll over the link below. Then click “Play” in the pop-up window that appears.
Kingsford Goes to the Beach – video powered by Metacafe
If you simply click on the link, it will take you to Metacafe’s web page with the same video on it.
I had a friend who had two pot bellied pigs, but I only met them after they were large adult pigs and they were not as friendly as this little guy.
T, If you are reading this blog, Happy Birthday, again.
Anyone who sees this post, take a good look at the photo below because my sister might make me pull it off the site. She’s camera shy and very private, though if you know her, you know she’s neither shy nor private about her opinions. LOL.
So I guess I won’t say how old she is. Even though she thinks I’m a “crazy dog lady”, I know she has a rapport with dogs. This photo should be proof enough. It was from a couple years ago. I couldn’t find a recent photo to use. The Min Pin’s are especially attached to her.
Willie thinks my sister is a big brown Min Pin
In case you were wondering, she woke up from a nap to find Willie still asleep, hugging her neck and smiling.
Pictures say it all sometimes.
Just wanted to share two sets of photos today:
- 1) I know a lot of dogs do this, but here is a photo of Bumper, my parents’ black Min Pin, on my sister’s lap in Ann Arbor, and right below it, a photo of Willie, my chocolate Min Pin on my husband’s lap yesterday in Colorado.
Bumper the Black & Rust Min Pin in Michigan
Willie the chocolate Min Pin in Colorado
2) My latest grooming creation as performed on Halle. I used Bumble & Bumble’s “Sumotech” hair wax to get the bangs to stand up. Voila!
My grooming hobby personified
I’m going to indulge myself in putting up another photo of my handiwork. I truly enjoy cutting my dogs’ hair, but it is a time hog because I do it for leisure and have absolutely no sense of urgency ;-)
Halle stays perfectly still for grooming
That’s a gooood giiirrrrlll.
Sofia, a Havanese on the Dog Liver Disease site accidentally got out during a trip out of town and was hit by a car. Thankfully and miraculously she is alive and seems not to have sustained any major physical trauma thus far.
When I read that she had been hit, I felt my heart skip a beat. I think anyone who has witnessed or lost a dog to a car accident, or even almost lost a dog to an incident with a vehicle will not forget that sickening feeling for the rest of his or her life. I know I won’t.
I’ve been meaning to put a post up as a salute Alice, the Border Collie whom I met last summer and whose owner I befriended and became bonded with forever in one of the best as well as most certainly the worst day for me last year.
As a result of my involvement with Alice’s passing last summer, I have become completely paranoid about dogs and cars, especially since Willie our Min Pin is an escape artist and runner, Russell the Morkie loves to run out and stand in the road whenever she gets a chance, and Halle is so tiny, she blends in with the dirt road at our summer place.
When I hear my husband coming up the driveway, I would run out with limbs akimbo scooping up small loose dogs like a maniac. Even crazy-smart dogs can’t fully wrap their heads around how deadly vehicles are, especially the ones they are familiar with. Why would a vehicle they wander under for shade suddenly be cause for alarm?
I’ve been putting off the tribute to Alice because every time I think about last summer I have feelings of despondency and nausea. How I cried. How Jeff cried. He didn’t leave the house for days and I was in shock for what seemed to be like an eternity. I couldn’t stop reliving the moment involuntarily. I was terrorized and haunted by my memories.
The feelings of terror and guilt are awful, but even most rural environments are not free of motor vehicles and the most vigilant pet owner cannot always anticipate or prevent an accident from happening.
I’m almost ready to write about Alice, but for now I just want to pray for Sofia and for her human parents to emerge as unscathed as possible.
Please feel free to share your experiences in the comments.
1) More soul searching
2) More thought or desire for having meaning in one’s life and actions
3) More frugality, reducing, reusing and recycling
4) Enjoying the “free” intangibles more: sunsets, friends, nature, walks, relationships
5) More creativity
6) More self-reliance and DIY (Doing it Yourself)
7) More gratitude for what one has
8) More empathy and compassion for fellow struggling humans
9) De-emphasis on material things
10) Discovering who your real friends are
11) De-emphasis on “financial net-worth” of a person
12) De-emphasis on status, prestige and luxury
13) More interest in energy conservation and renewable energy
14) More saving when possible
15) More paying down debt when possible
16) More use of debit cards and cash instead of cash when possible
17) More humility, less arrogance, fewer attitudes of “entitlement”
18) More depth of meaning and less superficiality
Things are pretty bad, but I’ve always found the worst times are the best times for personal growth. Our entire country probably collectively needed a real spanking anyway.
I believe that Americans will emerge more evolved from all that is going on. In some ways I do hope that things get worse in order to provide deep and wide impetus for moving our collective consciousness to the next level. Adversity is an amazing wake-up call, especially if it is systemic and pervasive.
Please feel free to share your “silver linings” in the comments!
We’re not imagining it. I’m not going to interject my opinion until the end of this list because the following items speak for themselves:
1) As of three weeks ago, unemployment in Detroit proper was at 22%. The marker for “depression” is 25% Michigan was at 12%. People in Vail are crying because they’re up to 4.3%.
2) Banks have been retroactively reducing home equity lines of credit based on newly devalued home prices. In Michigan, Chase Bank has devalued property seemingly across the board by about 30%. Your line of credit may go from $200,000 to $140,000 overnight. You may find you are suddenly maxxing out on your credit without notice.
3) Credit cards are hiking up interest rates just because. Citi raised my interest rate from 8.9% t0 19.99%. When I called to ask if it was something I did, they said, “No – you have an outstanding payment history. We’re doing this across the board”. Many cards are also reducing credit limits out of the blue as well. I understand they want to reduce their liability, but it’s creating more problems.
4) The economy has finally affected the Vail Valley with 1000+ foreclosures on the books, but rents continue to rise by 10-25% because the area is still short thousands of units of affordable housing. My girlfriend is a bank manager and has confirmed that they are turning down the majority of the loan applications due to the much more stringent requirements.
5) Insurance companies like Aetna, AutoOwners, etc., are “holding” money: taking much longer to pay out for claims or dragging the process out until customers are willing to settle.
6) Family pets, mostly dogs, are being found abandoned in homes in which people have foreclosed on or been evicted from.
7) Retirement funds from decades of individual and group plan savings have dwindled to half or less of their sizes.
8) Everywhere I go I see businesses that have shut down or struggling.
There’s more of course.
I am actually the family optimist, but I strongly feel things will get substantively worse before they get better. Why? Because each new day brings news of more layoffs, businesses filing for bankruptcy, ponzi schemes and mismanaged corporations.
People without jobs can’t find work. People without homes can’t buy new ones. Banks aren’t lending. New jobs have not materialized yet and the repercussions of all the lay-offs, business closings and corruption are still fanning out across our country at all socio-economic levels.
The lucky ones are the people who can lay low and ride it out. But “it” may still take at least 3-5 years.
Here are two little things that caused a lift of the eyebrow:
- -Barnes & Nobles is now enforcing a new return policy: only 14 days and only with a receipt. No store credit, returns or exchanges after 14 days period.
-Costco in the Vail Valley has removed their selection of upscale cheese. We’re talking about the Vail Valley.
Here’s an item of irony. My husband says that Vail Resorts has been visibly affected in the following ways:
- -The company is restricting overtime for employees.
-Clients who used to spend $5000+ a day at the resort are now spending $1000/day.
Since I’ve been home I’ve taken time out to hang out with Ron and our three dogs. Tomorrow it’s back to work for both of us and that’s a good thing.
In the past two days I’ve had a chance to indulge myself in one of my favorite activities: grooming!
I take a long time cutting dog hair, sometimes hours spread out over days to perfect the cuts, trims, sculpting, cleaning, and pawdicures.
I told Ron I was becoming a pro as I inspected my handiwork and was obviously pleased with myself. He smiled and said I probably wouldn’t make any money on it because I took so long. So I said I was an amateur groomer. He said I was more like a “hobbiest”. We both laughed. It’s so much fun for me I don’t even care if I only ever have “hobbiest” status.
It took a lot longer than planned, but I’m finally home.
I want to thank my friends at DLD for their support – I didn’t feel alone for a minute. I also want to thank my sister for talking with me on the road when I was tired, googling clean and cheap motels as I prepared to stop, and generally making the trip by phone with me. She was the one sister that was out of state when my parents were hospitalized, but made immediate plans to take time off work to fly back to Ann Arbor. Her stay was planned to overlap with my departure, which made the transition for both me and my parents much less traumatic.
Marie – thank you for keeping track of me. One can’t have enough mom-like people in one’s life!
Halle and I have been on the road for something like thirteen hours today. We stopped several times for gas, meals and bathroom breaks. She’s a great little traveler now.
When I first adopted her, she would throw up every time she went for a ride. Then after a while she stopped getting sick but would crawl under the car seats until the car stopped. Now she travels like a champ in her own car seat “above ground”.
I think I was more worn out by Nebraska than she was. Actually, we’re still in Nebraska, but close to the Eastern border. Nebraska seems to go on forever, but this was one trip through it without construction, giant tumbleweeds, windstorms, rainstorms, tornadoes or lack of lodging with vacancies. Nebraska was kind to us today and I am grateful.
After a late start, more stops and starts, missing a major exit and having to pull over to catch a nap, we’ve made it to the border of Iowa.
Leaving was hard. I tried to say my goodbyes to my parents inside the house, then run outside into my car and drive away before they could come out to the driveway. I wasn’t fast enough. They came out and stood by the passenger side of the car. Their eyes looked as big as saucers. I waved and yelled, “Goodbye”, mustering the best smile I could, then pulled out of the drive, not looking back.
Now Halle and I are in a motel. She’s sleeping and I’m tired. Tomorrow will be a very long driving day
I feel overwhelmed by sadness about the news of Mac, so much so that my own feelings are bewildering to me.
My brain hurts, my heart hurts. It’s really touched a nerve in me and triggered a deluge of emotions. I keep swallowing but the lump in my throat isn’t going away.
Lord have mercy. God have mercy.
Here is one of the last pictures Bonnie sent of the super-cute, sporty, fun, comical Mac, who loved life as much as any little dog could.
This dog could make us laugh. We love you Mac!
In the last day or two he was not able to urinate and was in discomfort. Bonnie took him to the vet several times. He had a culture done to check for a UTI. The vet gave him a shot of antibiotics as well as steroids, but he did not seem to improve much.
The next day (today) she took him in for an ultrasound which showed a mass that could have been the cause of the blockage, but also could have been a tumor. I know that they had to keep him at the vet’s, which Bonnie wasn’t happy about, but they told her he would be more comfortable. Before further medical intervention could be made, Mac crossed over the Rainbow Bridge.
It is a shock to the system to lose a loved one unexpectedly. I feel so sad myself, but when I think of him bathing in the birdbath and taking in the Florida sun, the corners of my mouth lift up a little.
I am very sad for Bonnie. She is a fun-loving, compassionate person who was Mac’s adoring mom. They had a great thing together and I know that with time the grief will be replaced by a plethora of wonderful memories.
Bonnie says she has tons of pictures of Mac, so when she’s ready I will be ready too to give him the fabulous photo-send-off he deserves.
Bonnie – I’m thinking of you and your family now and sending my condolences. I didn’t get a chance to check all my facts about the last days, but will make corrections as needed.
-Ming
Nicole just let me know that TJ’s pathology lab came back for the growth that was removed from his paw.
Just so that you know the biopsy results were good. These are her words: “YAY ~ YAY ~ YAY ~ YAY”.
The growth that was removed was determined to be a Benign Histocytoma Tumor, which shouldn’t grow back.
Nicole took these pictures this morning, She finally figured out a way to bandage his foot securely. In the past three days he was able to the gauze cast off and lick his paw, but “not today though…mommy did it good…”
No more yucky growth, but about this cast...
Doggy paw cast perfected
I postponed my departure in January to wait for Daisy, then we had the family health crisis, I am now finally wrapping up my stay in Michigan.
My husband more or less called to say he didn’t think I was coming back because I’ve been gone since September and my return date kept getting pushed forward.
I was grief-stricken to find that he was going to give up on us. I am now packing everything up to drive back to Colorado on Thursday, at least that’s the plan. I have a friend going with me who might need another day or two, but as long as I’m back by Monday night, things should be ok.
Here’s a photo taken of us about five years ago when I wasn’t out of town so much. I can’t believe it’s been so long. I’m so sorry.
We were together and happy once
I wish my family were closer or that my husband’s job and lifestyle weren’t so geographically dependent, but these are just wishes. The reality is that 1200 miles exist between the two spheres of my life and I’m the only one in a position to be a vagabond. The things most important to me have to fit in a suitcase or if I’m driving, my car.
There is a sense of freedom, but it’s also hard to be a part of either community. It’s not easy or ideal to be a floater leading a double life, even if it’s legitimate.
So much coming and going, saying goodbye and hello and goodbye again. For someone who yearns for stability and grounding, I certainly uproot and replant myself a lot.
Even if I carry a lot of “flower food” with me and make sure I get enough water and sun, it doesn’t lessen the repercussions of being absent.
The search has mostly been for either a Maltese or a Yorkie. At the moment we are looking at Yorkies again. The girls are young but eager to be careful, responsible and gentle. They have spent time handling a friend’s Maltese and did well with my five pound Yorkie Halle.
Their search has encompassed reading, researching on the Web, talking with dog owners and friends, and discussing the breeds and the care and the commitment needed to have a dog.
In the last week I have looked over the websites of various brokers, pet stores and private breeder networks that Tatiana has sent me. I hated to disappoint her and the girls, but had to dissuade them from purchasing from any of those avenues.
After getting all kinds of great feedback on the puppy search from DLD members and passing it on to Tatiana, I looked up the local AKC member clubs in Florida for both Malts and Yorkies, gave her the links and contacted some breeders to see if they had any hearty (older) puppies available for adoption.
One of the women I contacted, Peggy Horner, shows and breeds beautiful Yorkies in Michigan. I just remembered that she winters in Florida, so I called and emailed her on the girls’ behalf. I was interested in purchasing a puppy from her before I found Halle, though I still love to look at the picture of the puppy I had my sights on, who ended up with a doting retired couple:
The Northern Lites pup that got away
You can see her “Show” case of Yorkies on the Northern Lites site. The site has a lot of useful information about the breed, the standard, health issues and other information one would need when thinking of purchasing a Yorkie. As expected of a reputable breeder, Northern Lites can provide excellent references.
Peg sent me a links to two videos tonight of a Missouri puppy mill rescue done by the Humane Society. They’re pretty bad, but important to see if you’ve ever wondered what a puppy mill is like. She was very upset by these videos for good reason! I’m posting one of them below:
The Humane Society of Missouri Animal Cruelty Task Force rescues more than 90 Yorkshire Terriers from a substandard puppy mill in Greene County:
If you scroll down a bit you can see the two other posts on TJ. He had a growth on the top of his paw that was just surgically removed and is now home wearing the dreaded cone and recovering.
Here’s the email Nicole just sent me:
- Hi Ming…We got home last night. He [just] had surgery 4 hours before, so he was so tired, as I was too – we fell asleep on the couch. He was restless at first, as his paws hurt and couldn’t get comfortable, so I cradled him like a baby, so he didn’t have to put pressure on his paw, he was out like a light within minutes of his new position….
The Dr. said the biopsy results will be in within 4 to 5 days. He’s being positive, and doesn’t think it is a mass cell tumor at this point, but we still have to wait to find out!
[TJ’s] stitches come out in 10-14 days. Yes, his paw hair should grow back. He is on Baytril again, but no pain meds. He seems to be doing ok today, although he wants to lick his paw. I have the cone on him. But in a couple of days, I will wrap it with gauze. The Dr. said I can put a carter baby sock on him, so I may try that as well.
-Nicole
Tucked in and watching from the window, his favorite spot
Bumper is going to be my Dad’s official heart disease service animal! She is great at calming him down and will be carrying all of his emergency medication. She’s almost nine years old and has already spent the first of half her life being a faithful and attentive companion dog to both of my parents. Now she will go into service for the other half.
She is a sharp, compassionate dog who understands commands in English, Cantonese and Mandarin, can travel quietly for hours, even days at a time, and already accompanies my dad everywhere as it is. She used to to answer the phone by pushing on a large orange button, and has used speed dial with speaker phone on my parents’ old giant-button phone.
Of course she can “talk” on the phone and has demonstrated repeatedly that she understands its use as a communication device.
Although I don’t have pictures of Bumper at the hospital with my parents, she was there every other day, alternating with Halle.
Here is a picture my dad’s beloved Bumper, the 7.5 pound Miniature Pinscher:
Bumper the Brainiac
I had to include a photo of Bumper as a puppy because she was so crazy-cute:
Yes - Bumper is a real dog
Here a photo of the growth that Nicole emailed me:
The growth on the top of TJ's paw
I think I would have it removed too!
This is the cutie who’s going in for the removal procedure tomorrow.
I'm just a happy little guy
I think waiting is the hardest part. Waiting to feel better. Waiting for results. Waiting to leave. Just waiting.
I’ve heard rumors there are some children that are patient. I was never patient as a child, but life has taught me patience, tolerance, and empathy. It’s still hard for someone who can’t sit still, so I still experience some anxiety and frustration.
I was raised to understand delayed gratification, so that wasn’t the issue. I just like to be doing something all the time, even if it’s active “alone time” or “quiet time”. Also, my understanding of delayed gratification is that one waits in order to be better rewarded later. If one waits and there is no discernible benefit to waiting, I find that waiting becomes stressful and unpleasant.
If there is too much waiting and not enough forward movement, momentum can be lost, which easily undermines the goal. Getting the momentum up again becomes a chore when it has to be revived over and over with no satisfactory results.
Seems like it’s high time for me to find another way to re-frame “waiting”.
So here we are, delayed again. I can’t even get back to Ann Arbor from Kalamazoo much less get back to Colorado from Ann Arbor. Everyone’s tired and crabby from the recent hardships. I barely feel able to be useful today, but there isn’t much of a choice. Tomorrow will be better when we are back at the home in Ann Arbor where I can more easily manage the environment and lifestyle for them, without having to do it all from the couch!
Well, my dad is doing fine now, but the nurses have been checking my mom’s blood pressure in the last three days and it has been consistently over the ER admittance for high blood pressure. At 192/122, the nurse said she needs to go to ER. We are expecting that they will just do the protocol, give her the appropriate meds, and keep her overnight.
I went to get my dad’s stuff while they were checking him out of the hospital and about to wheel Mom down to the ER.
Physical bodies just start to give out after a while. One of our friends has had both knees, both hips and a shoulder replaced in addition to serious asthma. He’s in his 80’s. Others we’ve known have made it over 100 with just weak knees.
I’m going to stay a little longer in Michigan to make sure they are settled before I go back to Colorado, but hopefully it’ll just be another week.
He’s getting released today. I’m going to pick him and my mother up. She’s stayed there all three nights.
I’m going to drive back to Ann Arbor with Halle today to get the house ready for them.
Will probably be offline until tonight.
You can always see it in the “VIDEO” subsection of this blog under PAGES.
Margy posted the link (on DLD) to this amazing true story of a crow who cares for a stray kitten and becomes it’s surrogate mother and best friend. It’s a bit long at seven-plus minutes, but worth seeing, especially the play scenes and the side-by-side walks.
Nicole, a DLD member has requested prayers and good thoughts for her little Yorkie, TJ, who will be having a growth on his paw removed on Friday, after which it will be sent to pathology.
Here’s the four year old, seven pound yorkie-boy “TJ”:
I'm ridiculously cute and I know it
Nicole reports that the growth has been on the top of TJ’s paw for about a month. It is the size of a black bean and is skin color. They treated it for two weeks with Baytril and an antihistamine in case it was a lick granuloma. But it has been about a month now and the growth appears to have grown a bit. The Vet doesn’t know what it is, but he, Nicole and her husband are all uncomfortable with it, so he will remove it in its entirety and send it to pathology.
Nicole is petrified about the surgery because of the chance that it may be a mass cell tumor. Althouth she is trying to stay positive, she has appealed for help:
- Please keep my baby TJ in your thoughts and prayers. [..] I am trying to remain positive, but inside I am SCARED to death!I too am hoping this turns out to be ‘nothing’ but the stress of it possibly being a mass cell tumor is freaking me out.
He is my baby boy and I am his mamma…
THANK YOU! Nicole
The Bronson Hospital has an entire “Chest Pain” center. It’s only about five years old and a stunning hospital.
Bronson Hospital entrance
Bronson Hospital: First Floor Foyer
It was a stroke of luck that my dad happened to be in Kalamazoo, minutes from the hospital when the attack began. The immediate attention he received prevented worse damage from occurring. They said he was only about eight hours away from a massive heart attack.
He’s staying in the cardiology inpatient care pavilion right now:
Cardiology Inpatient Pavilion
He is going to be released later today to go home or two months of quiet rest. No air travel. No stress.
They have to wait two months for the heart to repair itself before they run the ultrasound to see how much damage occurred. In the meantime, he’s already doing very well recovering and in good spirits.
I took Halle to the hospital to see him today. She was happily mistaken for “Rufus” the therapy Yorkie, so she got to have run of the hospital without being bothered. She didn’t even seem to mind people calling her “Rufus”.
It helps so much to have a dog there. You can see the heart rate go down the the monitor while petting the dog!
Halle the "Therapy Dog"
I couldn’t find who the original author was, but here is the story about what a 6-year old boy’s observation about dogs. This story, known as “A Dog’s Purpose”, is all over the Web more or less in this form:
- Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish wolfhound named Belker. The dog’s owners, Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.
I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn’t do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.
As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.
The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker’s family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.
The little boy seemed to accept Belker’s transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker’s death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, “I know why.”
Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I’d never heard a more comforting explanation. He said, “People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life – like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?”
The six-year-old continued, “Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.”
Live simply.
Love generously.
Care deeply.
Speak kindly.
Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
Take naps.
Stretch before rising.
Run, romp, and play daily.
Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.
When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
Be loyal.
Never pretend to be something you’re not.
If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.
Thanks to each and every person who has contacted me personally, commented here or posted on DLD. Your support and friendship has more than compensated for the loss I have felt in this ordeal.
Thank you also for expressing your concern and well wishes for my father. He is a retired professor, and today he is in good spirits as a number of colleagues are at the hospital engaging him in conversation on all kinds of interesting projects and topics.
I am finally going to get back to focusing on my own work project. Yay!
My dad turned 70 last year. He had quad bypass surgery in 2002. The doctors told him around year eight things may start to happen. 2008 was year eight. He’s been stressing since his birthday last November. Of course stress exacerbates or can even trigger a heart condition, so that didn’t help.
He officially had a heart attack yesterday, but they caught it about eight hours before what would have been a massive heart attack. Two stents were put in his artery. He will stay in the hospital until Wednesday. Phew. That was stressful.
He’s recovering and in good spirits today. Not as scary as when I saw him in the Intensive Care unit right after the bypass surgery. He was blue, green and purple and didn’t even look alive. It was very upsetting and the recovery was slow for him.
Unfortunately he was one of the few bypass patients who did not feel better after the surgery and whose symptoms were not markedly reduced. He continued to suffer from shortness of breath, heart pounding in chest, and chest pains.
My father was taken into heart surgery tonight in Kalamazoo during a visit with his grandson, Bo.
Even though Daisy’s schedule was off, and she was traveling, and meeting new people and dogs, she did very well compared to how Halle was when I first got her. Daisy is much better socialized even though has liver disease.
The only three times she cried was when I walked more than 20 feet away from her. Other than that she loved my mom and has found a new playmate in Halle.
Below are the photos I took of the things I bought for her at Whole Foods last night. I arranged them on the breakfast bar after I took them home.
Daisies for Daisy
Ming's MVD Dog Whole Foods Display
Here’s a picture of Higgins, Grant’s Yorkie on the beach in Bermuda. Besides the fact that he looks like a total Teddy Dog, I love the paw prints in the sand in the photo:
Higgins, Grant & Lauren's Yorkie, pondering
Dawn described her relationship with Finnian as “a dance”.
Today I came across the lyrics for Garth Brooks’ song The Dance and decided to post it here, along with some background information. The lyrics are meaningful to anyone who has experienced the loss of a life (dance) partner.
- Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared ‘neath the stars alone
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you’d ever say goodbye
And now I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I’d have had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn’t I a king
But if I’d only known how the king would fall
Hey who’s to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I’m glad I didn’t know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I’d have had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I’d have had to miss the dance
Artist: Brooks Garth; Song: The Dance; Album: Garth Brooks
The Wikipedia entry for The Dance states that it was recorded by country singer Garth Brooks in 1989. It was written by his friend Tony Arata, was a key track on his self-titled debut album Garth Brooks, and was a #1 chart hit.
The song was meant to be love song about the end of a relationship as well as a story of someone who died for something they believed in. Brooks illustrates these themes in the music video for the song.
This piece is called “Finnian Begin Again”. In light of Finnian’s recent passing, I found it difficult to read without feeling pangs of intense sadness. Dawn’s honesty and candor gives us a window into her world and that of her sweet Finnian.
I highly recommend reading this piece, but must warn that it may cause the tears to flow again.
- Finnian Begin Again
When I first adopted Finnian, we weren’t sure he would make it. His rescuer, Northwest Poodle Rescue, told us his sad, and nearly unbelievable story.Only three pounds when he was rescued, he was kept as a stud in a puppy mill for eight long years. He had never played outside, never been socialized, and never left the cramped cage he lived in, which was so small that his spine had a permanent arch and he was unable to walk. He had only learned how to stand properly and walk after he was rescued.
His legs were so atrophied that it took him a long time to build the muscles necessary to move. As he tried to walk, all he could manage at first was a kind of stumbling sideways crab-walk, punctuated with lost footing and falling down, then struggling to get up again. Later, we were to discover that over-breeding had also caused his kneecaps to be permanently dislocated, adding to the difficulty of his movement.
At some point, Finnian had been bitten by another dog, probably one he was forced to mate with, and his leg was torn open, an insult to the already injured skin of his body. He was bald and bare from urine burns that were made when the urine that soaked his cage and his body, built up and turned to ammonia. He had spent most of his time raw and burning and soaked.
After he was rescued, the vet conducted emergency dental surgery on him, removing twelve teeth that were rotten from an inadequate diet and that looked like “an Australian blooming onion” in his mouth, another genetic defect caused by over-breeding. Either during the difficult surgery in his tiny mouth or sometime before, Finnian suffered some unknown neurological damage to his tongue. Whether through stroke or trauma, he was not able to control his tongue and it still hangs out one side of his mouth. I had to use a water dropper to hydrate him several times a day, an ordeal that caused him to choke and sneeze. Since it was also difficult for him to chew and swallow, he would cough and sneeze food into his sinuses, leading to numerous infections that made it difficult for him to breathe.
Worried about his continued coughing and difficulty breathing, I took him to the emergency animal hospital in the middle of one bad night. This visit revealed that Finnian indeed had scorched lungs from inhaling ammonia from his urine. They also found that he had an enlarged heart and hardening kidneys.
During those weeks, I kept Finnian in a baby front pack at all times. I even slept with him each night on the recliner, giving him his pain medicine and waiting until he was sleeping comfortably before settling in for the night myself. I stayed still so that I wouldn’t disturb him, and I woke several times to make sure he was still with me. Sometimes he would open his eyes, sigh heavily after seeing I was still there, and fall back into a deep sleep, chittering his familiar chitter of fear and desperation.
There are no words to describe how we bonded during that time. To the outside world, it would look like it was I who was helping him. Over time though, I started to realize that he was helping me as much or more. Having dealt with anxiety for years as a result of Asperger Syndrome, a high-functioning form of autism, I had always forced myself to go out, to get out in the world and not fall prey to the agoraphobia that always seemed so tempting. I would have panic attacks in public, brought on from social stress and sensory over-stimulation. Just going about life could be so hard.
First from necessity and then in order to socialize Finnian, I began to take him with me everywhere in his front pack. We went to the store, to the mall, to my Thai boxing class (a very structured kind of social outlet for me), and to walk around the neighborhood. People would stop me and want to hear his story. I would explain all he had been through and people would pet him, going out of their way to show him love. These encounters were nice for me, because it gave me a way to connect with people and a way also to feel comfortable with their physical nearness. Finnian became a focal point not only for the people I met out in public, but for me as well.
I started putting my anxiety medication in his front pack, knowing that if I started to have trouble I would focus on him during the confusion that accompanies a panic attack, and still be able to find my medication. Soon, though, I realized I was having fewer panic attacks because he was with me. And shortly after that, I was surprised to see after much trial and error, underpinned by our strong bond, that Finnian was in fact signaling to me when I was heading into social or sensory trouble.
When I was feeling good and outgoing, he would be forward and outward-focused. As my stress level changed, he would turn inward, focusing more and more on my chest and pawing me when things were about to fall apart. He would know this was happening before I did. Sometimes just putting my nervous energy into petting him would help. Other times I would have to leave the situation anyway. Finnian would let me know which course of action was going to work.
Over many months, Finnian became a reliable gauge of my mental state and began to guide me constantly and infallibly in my negotiations with the outside world. Now that he was healing and more physically able, I started to train him in basic obedience and our bond grew even more. In addition to alerting me to panic attacks, he started to paw me insistently and wake me at the onset of my night terrors and sleep disturbances. He also started to insist at times that I get up in the night to take anxiety or sleep medication.
When I got up I would reward him for this service, although he didn’t expect it. If I overslept because of the medication, he would let me sleep as long as possible, then paw me until I woke up. On mornings I hadn’t taken medication, he would wake me up even earlier so I could start my day on schedule. He was somehow able to tell the difference. Somehow he trained himself.
On days that I suffered from sleep deprivation to the point of not being able to trust my perceptions, he seemed to “patrol” the house for me. If I heard a voice and my partner and son were out of the house, I would ask him, “Who’s there?” and he would run around the house, coming back and then asking to get up in my lap if no one was there. At times there actually would be someone outside or at the door, and he would alert me by barking.
As our wonderful and sensitive Finnian, also known to the family as “Finnian Begin Again,” became stronger and healthier, he became the delight of our home, and a delight for our other dogs, our extended family, friends, and strangers. Still, he is most special to me, and I to him…
Finnian in his little red sweater
Now happy and secure, Finnian not only touches all whom he meets, but he remains a special friend to me, a kind of extension of my soul, allowing me greet my own unfolding happiness in ways I never thought possible.
Now licensed as a service dog, Finnian repays me daily for all the care I gave him when he could barely stand. I know that it is I who got the bigger gift. Thank you, Finnian.
Edited by Ming 2/7/09
ADDENDUM – A post from Margy about adopting dogs that aren’t perfect
“Hi Ming. Just wanted to tell you what a magnificent job you have done with your blog. It is very sensitive and touches my heart. I sure wish that Dawn would consider writing a book about her experiences. This is a story that the world needs. It would encourage the adoption of dogs who are not physically perfect and they could assist those of us who are not perfect as well. It would offer hope, and give us courage. Hugs, Margy Hope”
2/7/09 Dog Liver Disease (DLD) group.
I was going to present the events in reverse chronological order, but I couldn’t bring myself to prepare Finnian’s Last Day until after I posted Fenris’ First Day.
I hope this doesn’t bother anyone. Besides, as beautifully as Dawn describes his last day, this is still the rendition of events that incapacitated me for two days after reading it.
So here is your warning. If you are already in mourning for a pet, if you feel weak of heart or spirit, you may want to wait or prepare yourself to read about Finnian’s last day. Dawn is candid, sensitive and vulnerable in sharing his last day with us, but it is still very sad. Dawn’s words have been very minimally edited as a matter of basic proofing.
Finnian, just before leaving for the vet hospital
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Dawn wrote:
- As I told you all earlier, I prayed for Finnian to have a perfect day today. Our sun made a rare appearance and shined brightly … all day.
Finnian woke up wagging his tail and tottering excitedly if unsteadily on our bed, as if to say, “Get up! The day is wasting!” I fed him his regular supplements and little breakfast, and then fed him a little Pop-Tart crust with a tiny bit of the “good stuff” on it. He was passionate about Pop-Tarts, something I ate very, very rarely, and even then, I would buy the whole grain kind, but for him, anything.
I took him outside and let him hobble down the street off-leash in his small red sweater, going slowly here and there, wherever his nose would take him. This was his day. He only went half a block and wanted to come home, but he was smiling and blinking his happy little eyes against the bright sun as he made his way home.
I sat in the sun with him on my lap. While he took a long nap, I called my friends across the country who are the
only other people I know with an autism service dog. Their own dog had a health crisis recently and had to go in for a surgery that she wasn’t expected to survive. Before the operation, they took her back to the [service dog] training facility. Like Finnian, she would never let another dog near her autistic partner, but she also picked out a young dog and insisted it get onto Chris’ lap. She was choosing his next service dog. I explained that Finnian had done exactly the same thing with the new Pomeranian rescue we now have. Her story moved me, once again, by the love and foresight animals have on our behalf.
By that time my family was home and taking turns petting Finnian and telling him how much he meant to them. He reached a point where he was uncomfortable and not feeling well. He moved away from us, not wanting to be petted anymore. We just sat near him and respected his wishes.
We decided to go to the vet’s early because they have a beautiful trail behind the clinic. He got another walk. Again, He didn’t want to go far, so I picked him up and put him in his service front-pack and we just took in the natural beauty around us.
I was so grateful to my family, who fell behind and let me have a long, intimate talk with Finney about how much I loved him, what he had meant to me, and how I would be ok. I told him he need not not worry. I told him to find peace.
As I reached for the door at the clinic, I had a momentary breakdown. I just couldn’t open the door. I stood there and sobbed at the threshold. My family opened the door and helped us in. They took Finnian away to put a line in his arm and brought him back to us waiting in the room. Then the vet came and talked with us about Finney’s symptoms, went over the treatment we had been giving him and how he had a very bad night a couple nights ago. She said I could give him drugs that would allow him to hang on for a day, maybe two, but that it would be for me and not for Fin. I thanked her for being honest with me.
He was able to stay in his service pack as she gave injected the shot into the line in his arm. I kept saying into his tiny ear, over and over, “There’s my Fin, there’s the boy I love. He’s good boy,” in the voice I always saved for him.
I have been a vet tech and volunteered at shelters. I’ve even worked for a mobile vet whose specialty was home euthanasia. But I have never seen a dog die so fast. Before the injection was done, he was gone; no second breath, no heartbeats.
My family left so I could have a moment alone with him. I hugged him and cried until I felt that he wasn’t there anymore, that I was holding an empty body. Then I walked out into the hall and tenderly lifted him out of his service pack for the last time, and gave him to the nurse.
We had brought the other dogs with us so we could take them all to the park afterward, just to see romping dogs full of life. I put Fenris, my new service dog, into the service pack Finney had died in. She smelled it, looked alarmed and then deeply sad. Then she settled down into the pack as if to make it her own.
I didn’t expect to write anything this soon, but I was so moved by the love and support I have gotten, and by all the beautiful words from hearts who have the scars, that I knew I must thank you from Finney and myself and share his last moments with you all.
I may not write for a while, but I consider myself a permanent member of the group and have no plans to leave.
With love to all of you,
Dawn, and Finnian, from across the rainbow bridge
I have edited this piece very minimally, and mostly as a result of basic proofing. It took me a while to recuperate from from the events of the last several days. After receiving this story of Fenris’ First Day, I finally felt I could present Finnian’s Last Day, which I felt was too difficult to read on its own.
My esoteric Catholic psychic friend used to assure me that death and re-birth were two sides of the same coin.
Fenris is the new service dog, to whom Finnian handed his baton. This transaction happened so graciously that it brought tears to my eyes.
Here’s a picture of the two of them together on Dawn’s lap:
Finnian passes the torch to Fenris (front)
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Here are Dawn’s words:
- Fenris woke up knowing that this was a different kind of day. Maybe she even knew before [she awoke that the sun would rise] to a world without Finnian.
She had curled up into a ball and pressed into my tummy all night [the night before], like a puppy waiting to be born. If I moved, she moved with me. If I lifted my head, looking for a familiar companion in the night, she lifted her head also. “I am here,” she seemed to say simply, “I am the familiar companion you are looking for.”
When I woke up, Fenris greeted me with her liquid brown eyes, laughing almonds, all things good in their sparkle. Before I got her from the breeder who didn’t want her anymore, she had somehow learned to “pray” by standing on her back legs and putting her front paws together as she hopped up and down. I always laughed when she did this. Even though her legs were deformed she managed to enjoy this little prayer dance, and it made me laugh this morning, too.
I gave Fenris her organic breakfast. Then I reached for Finnian’s medicine to give it to him. My vet had put it in a molasses syrup, which Finnian loved to have in the morning. But as I turned to find him, I realized that he was still gone. Fenris smiled up at me instead. I fished around in the refrigerator to find the treat she loves best: little chunks off the big, meaty training roll we use for all the dogs. I gave her one for Finnian and one for her. I made the piece for her bigger.
I got down on my knees to talk to her snout to snout. “Finnian picked you, you understand that, right?”
She wagged her puffy tail and smiled.
“Are you ready to start today?”
Wag. Wag. Wag.
“It’s a tough job. Are you sure? You will have to be my dancing partner. A constant dancing partner to my soul.”
Wag. Wag.
“Ok. I trust you.”
I took out my needle and thread and got Finnian’s service dog vest from the cupboard. I ripped out the seams, and brushed out Finnian’s small gray hairs where they had gotten caught in between. I took the little vest apart and measured Fenris. Slowly and carefully I re-sewed the vest to fit her. I put the vest on her and stood back.
Wag. Wag. Wag. Smile.
Today was a big day. We were taking my son down to Seattle, a couple hours away, to see a Children’s Theater play about an Egyptian king who tried to find a stone that would give him immortality. Rather than finding the stone, he found his inner strength.
Fenris stayed still in her front pack. She was friendly to the people who reached for her without reading the “Service Dog: Do Not Pet” sign on the front of the pack. When I took her out, she laid down on my lap and didn’t move a muscle during the whole play. I leaned around to see her face.It was clear she was watching the play intently; watching everything that was happening on the stage.
Her brown eyes were dancing as she listened and took in all the colors and movements. I had to laugh out loud for this was the little girl who had lived in a kennel all her short life, and only saw nothing but wire, bars, and concrete.
After the play, we went to meet friends at the food court in the Seattle Center. We ate lunch there with Fenris in her new front pack, never begging, never even sniffing the food so close to her.
Afterwards, we went to see the Lucy exhibit at the Center. Even though I took a long time in the reading each exhibit slowly in the crowded halls, Fenris stayed quiet and relaxed in the front pack. Sometimes she looked up at me and smiled, as if yo say, “This is fun. I love being with you.”
One of the guards at the exhibit who had watched us a long time came up to us.
“She’s beautiful. Did you train her yourself?” She asked.
It went through my mind that the answer was more complex than “yes” or “no”. As my friend with an autism support dog says, “they either have it or they don’t”. You can train a dog to within an inch of its life, but if it doesn’t do that dance with your soul, there is no service dog. Fenris licked the woman’s fingers daintily after the woman asked if it was ok.
“I think she trained herself,” I said.
“Well, I’ve never seen a dog more in tune with its handler. She has been so quiet and good.”
I told thanked the guard and scratched Fenris’ head. No one would ever believe this was her “First Day.”
Finally, we emerged into the cool evening air. I gave Fenris treats and water and let her walk on the grass. She stayed at my heel. On the way home she slept on my lap, looking up sometimes to gauge the stars. “Are we home?” Then, she would look at me. “Oh, yes. We are.”
Life goes on.
Dawn
Please everyone – take some quiet time for yourselves to recharge. I will do the same.
I’ll put posts up in another day or so.
Thanks,
Ming
Dawn sent me a piece with photos about Finnian that she wrote some time ago. I will be posting it later tonight along with her post about his last day, which debilitated me last night when I read it.
I’ll put a “Kleenex Alert” on it for those of you who may not be able to handle it at the moment.
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