But You Eat Chicken, Right?

Everything had been going along so wonderfully. The two dogs were playing, sitting on the ottoman together, etc. Well, the Snausages hit the fan.

Admittedly, the fight was my fault. I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that Annie is new here when I put the bowl of food down between the two dogs. Well, within seconds, somebody touched somebody’s snout, and it was a full on dog fight. Annie, who is about ten pounds bigger than Pub, pinned him on the floor. I screamed and yelled (cries to which nobody came running, by the way - good thing I wasn’t being mugged), and finally was able to pry her off of him.

My husband walked into the room just as I was opening the basement door to send Annie downstairs. He took her down to her crate, and I ran over to check on Pub, who was shaking like a little leaf. With Bill, he was always the dominant dog. Clearly, that is no longer the case. Within a few seconds, we noticed blood on the floor and on my hands. Pub had a tear in the skin of his neck, and it looked bad. I called the vet and he told me to bring him immediately.

I had to leave him for a few hours while he was sedated and stapled. The end result is a sweet, terrified dog with five staples in his neck. He is taking pain medication and an antibiotic. We left Annie in the crate all night, except to go outside, and we put food and water in the crate and made sure she knew she was on the bad dog list.

I was really shaken up by the whole incident. The vet was shocked. He met Annie last week for a check-up, and he thinks that rather than aggression, it was just a typical, run-of-the-mill dog fight for dominance over food. I tend to think he is correct, but I am still nervous. He told me that I must establish dominance, and fast. I have never been good at that, and frankly, I am not sure I know how to do it. I don’t want this to happen ever again.

Annie is back upstairs now, and she is lying at my feet while Pub sleeps on the couch next to me. They have interacted, but I have been trying to keep things as calm as possible. They seem fine together now, but I am so scared that it will happen again. The food is put away, so that shouldn’t be an issue.

Any advice would be wonderful. I have never had to show dominance or train a dog to respect me as the pack leader. Also,I don’t spank or use shock collars, so that won’t work.

Thanks in advance for any advice.

As I mentioned in my last post, the vet said that he thought that Annie might go into heat anytime, and that we should spay her. You can read Annie’s story here and here. Naturally, I wanted to mention it to my husband before I sent her to surgery, so I told him I would call back in the next day or two. As my luck would have it, she started bleeding the next morning. I have never had a female dog or been around one in heat, so I thought we could still spay her while she was bleeding. Wrong. The vet said it was very risky to do the operation while she was bleeding, so we have to wait it out. I am not at all shocked that I would be the person to temporarily adopt a stray dog and have her go into heat. Story of my life.

I went to look for doggie diapers, but the prices were ridiculous, so I decided to buy real diapers and cut a hole for her tail. That didn’t work either. Being the creative one in the house, I decided to take an old pair of my husband’s briefs, stick a pantyliner in them, and tie them on. It’s been working quite well, as a matter of fact. I guess that English degree is good for something.
I really don’t know how long the cycle lasts in a dog, but I hope it is short. Considering she is still potty-training,  the panty/diaper thing is kind of a hassle.

Also, we have no prospects on a new home for her, so it looks like she will be staying with us indefinitely. She and Pub are getting along quite well now–even playing chase. I am happy to see he isn’t jealous of her anymore.

We’ll see what happens. At any rate, she will be getting spayed as soon as it is safe to do so.

Here’s a photo of Annie in her Panties:

Well, today is day four. Annie did great in the crate downstairs, but we decided that yesterday was the day to get her ready to introduce to everyone else in the house.

The first step was the cat test. We took one of the cats to the basement to meet her on Monday night. She was on a leash, and she did great. She was curious and wanted to play, but when she realized that Linus wasn’t interested, she found something else to amuse herself.

Step two, probably the most important step, was to clean her up. I put her in my next door neighbor’s basement shower, and disaster ensued as her hair clogged the drain, the water rose, and I ended up just as wet and soapy as she did. But it was worth it, because now she is soft, fluffy, and smells like Mandarin oranges. Meanwhile, I just ended up smelling like a wet dog. After we came back home, I put her in her crate with her dinner so she could air dry and relax.

A few hours later, we brought her upstairs to meet Pub. He is very tempermental, and I was concerned about how he would react to her. They sniffed each other (well, he sniffed her butt and he went ballistic when she returned the favor), and she tried to play with him, but he wasn’t interested. In fact, he’s still not interested. He has been avoiding her at all costs, and he is seriously angry about the situation. When she gets too close, his lips pull back in a smile and he groans. We’ll see.

Within a half an hour, we were alerted to the fact that she is in no way potty trained. We decided that she should spend nights in the crate downstairs (and when we aren’t home.) I think she is catching on quickly, because she whimpered at the door last night to go out. She didn’t quite make it, but she did try. She’ll learn.

Today was our trip to the vet. She weighs 43 pounds, and she is about one year old. She was given a rabies shot, which she didn’t seem to mind at all. The bad news is that she is not spayed, and she is ready to go into heat. The vet said it could be tomorrow or it could be three months, but I don’t want her bleeding out in my house, so we are going to put a rush order on the operation.

She is an absolutely wonderful dog. She is gentle, sweet, affectionate, and eager to please. She doesn’t jump and she isn’t overbearing; still, we are trying to find her another home. We are still hoping that my mother-in-law takes her. They would be wonderful companions for each other, I have no doubt. No matter what, she will live here until we find a suitable home.

For now, she’s all spiffed up with a shampoo, new collar, and shiny rabies tag. Annie is living the good life.

This afternoon, I was relaxing on the sofa, reading a book with the dog and a warm banket. From the corner of my eye, I kept noticing something outside the window. When I stood up, I saw a dog running back and forth along our hedges. Since we live near a busy intersection, I ran outside to check for a tag and to make sure she didn’t run into the road.
She came right over to me and jumped into my lap, and I noticed right away that she had a very tight, broken chain around her neck. Clearly, she had been an outside dog that had broken loose. She also had a regular collar, but lo and behold, there were no tags. She was happy to have someone to play with, so I took her into the basement to warm up and try to figure out what to do. My husband had to use a screwdriver to get the chain off of her neck. She was thirsty and ate several treats, and she wanted to snuggle a lot!

Because of our dog Pub, we aren’t able to keep her. That poses two problems. 1. It is cold outside, and the life of a stray is no life at all, so we don’t want to let her back outside to fend for herself. 2. I am not comfortable giving her back to someone who is just going to tie her back up to a tree and ignore her for the rest of her life. She deserves so much more than that. We drove around the neighborhood for about an hour and asked people who were outside if they recognized her, but nobody knew who she was. We asked the few local businesses if anyone had called or come in to ask about her, but nobody had. Another neighbor said that she has seen her roaming the neighborhood for about a week. It was clear that she didn’t have a loving owner searching for her.

To make a long story short, we decided that the best thing we could do was to set up Bill and Pud’s big old crate and fill it with blankies, toys, and food. As of right now, she is staying in our basement, and we go down every hour or two and walk her and play with her for a little bit. She is absolutely adorable, quiet and sweet. She can’t get enough hugs or kisses, either. I have asked several friends and relatives if they are interested, but nobody wants another dog.

I am going to call a few more people tomorrow and see what I can find out about foster placement, etc. I desperately need to find her a home. She goes back in her crate when I ask her to, but she tries to talk me out of it with her big doe eyes and a snuggle. She is sleeping snugly and quietly right now, but I feel bad for her since she is down there all alone. I suppose it is better than being all alone out in the cold.

It breaks my heart to see animals who are neglected and discarded this way. She is a beautiful, precious girl, and I will see to it that she has a wonderful home. It’s such a tragedy that animals are just thrown away and left to fend for themselves on the streets. If anyone can help, please let me know. We think she is a German shepherd/beagle mix. She is probably 35-40 pounds.

Meet Annie:

When I started this blog back in December, I had intended it to be a place for me to write and muse about whatever happened to be on my mind. At the time, my nine year old boxer was already a few months past his advanced lymphoma diagnosis. His health had been declining steadily, but I wasn’t ready to post about it at the time. Talking about the inevitable was just too painful. Even as I write this almost six weeks after his death, it is still almost too painful to think about.

When I started this blog, I had no idea that it would become a place that several other pet owners and I would converge to talk about what we and our dogs were going through. We discussed the signs and symptoms of the lymphoma, complications, medication, euthanasia, other pets/family members - everything. What started as one painful post quickly became a sanctuary where I was able to come and talk to some of the wonderful people that I met here. Much too soon, however, they became the people that helped me through the agonizing process of losing a beloved pet. Over the past several months, several of the dogs from our group have lost their battles with canine lymphoma.

Bill, a nine year old Boxer who owned Eve, passed away on January 5^th, about ten weeks after diagnosis.

Emmitt, a Golden Retriever/Irish Wolfhound mix who owned Patty, passed away on January 23rd, about nine weeks after diagnosis.

Sydney, a Shepherd/Husky mix who owned Victoria, passed away on March 1^st, almost six weeks after diagnosis.

Bruno, a three year old English Bulldog who owned Lee, passed away today, March 11th, about eight weeks after diagnosis.

Max, a thirteen year old terrier mix who owned Linda, passed away on April 23rd, 2008, about six weeks after diagnosis.

Patch, an eleven year old Dalmation who owned Meredith, passed away on May 9, 2008.

Ladies, if you would like me to post a photo of your dog, just let me know. I am so sorry for all of your losses, but so glad we have been able to help each other through this horrible experience. I hope that this blog continues to be a place where people can come to find others who are dealing with the same issues.

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together….

Author unknown…

And he has a fat butt, sharp teeth and huge pupper paws! I love him! He is being called Scooter right now, but who knows what his permanent name will be. He doesn’t pay any attention to names anyway, although I think we made some serious progress on sit today.

He is just adorable. The rips and teeth holes all through the shirt I wore to visit him today are not so adorable. But he is a sweet puppy, so it’s a forgivable offense! He just better outgrow it!

No, no - not here. Not because they didn’t try, though. My brother-in-law’s parents bought a Labrador puppy from a breeder at Christmas, and have apparently decided that they are no longer in the mood for a dog! When they couldn’t find someone to take him, they decided that they were going to take him to the pound (grrrr), and so my mother-in-law has decided to let him move his stuff in until he can find another place to crash. Although she would love to keep him, a large lab is a heck of a lot for her to handle on her own.

If Bill had been our only dog, we would have seriously considered it. I would have felt badly/guilty because of Bill, but right now I would feel worse for our other dog, seeing that he is nine years old and we have a pretty nice arrangement here. He gets all of the attention, all of the snuggling, all of the treats, all of the smooches…you get the idea. I would not bring a puppy in here to mess up his happy home - he’s been through quite enough losing his best friend last month. Although, if my mother-in-law had not taken him in, we would have - temporarily. I would never let an animal go to the pound if I was in a position to help it.

Anyway, he is a 12 week old purebred lab, and I will be posting photos of him shortly. The photo above is just your typical cute lab puppy picture. Stay tuned for the real thing!

I really don’t know why I have bothered to wear makeup for he last few weeks, since I have been sobbing regularly. Not many things in my life have been as rewarding as the relationships I have had with my pets, and not many things have been as painful as watching them grow old and deteriorate. This is coming from a woman who has been through many, many difficult times.

I talked about Bill’s diagnosis with lymphoma in an earlier post. While he did well on the prednisone, the last couple of weeks have been difficult; his health is rapidly declining, and he is near the end of his life. For the last few months, he has been losing weight; about a month ago, he began to sleep much more than usual; in the last few days, Bill has had difficulty with stairs and standing without help. He loves getting treats, eating snow, and snacking on”people food,” but he doesn’t really eat on his own anymore.

We have discussed the inevitable, and know that within a few days we will have to put him to sleep. The decision is absolutely agonizing, particularly when I see him wagging his stubby little tail, getting frisky about treats or snuggling with his brother. He is not in any pain, we are certain of that; he is, however, losing quality of life. I wonder if I am doing the right thing, or if maybe if we wait one more day he will go peacefully in his sleep.

Life will go on, the pain will lessen, but I can’t bear the thought of waking up and not seeing his sweet, smooshy face. I dread that first morning without him. I will miss him dearly. I already do.

About two months ago, my husband and I listened to the words that every pet owner dreads: “your dog has cancer.” Advanced lymphoma, to be exact. I knew that something was wrong when in a matter of weeks, he had lost a significant amount of weight; then, one evening while we were playing, I felt a lump in his throat.

Looking at my nine year old boxer in the vet’s office, I just had a feeling he would be one of the many of the breed who succumb to some form of cancer. The doctor told us that it had most likely already metastasized, but that as long as we don’t feel lumps in other areas of his body, he should do well. We opted for a Prednisone regimen that we hoped would prolong the inevitable without any suffering.

Earlier this evening, I felt a tumor behind his knee. I know his remaining time is short, but I just can’t seem to prepare myself for life without him.

He is still a happy and playful boy, eats voraciously (more than likely due to the prednisone,) and acts as if nothing has changed. Still, I know that this new lump is not a good sign. We won’t let him suffer; as soon as we feel that his quality of life is diminishing, we will make the call.

Don’t take a single day with your pets for granted. Every day with my dog and his brother has been a true joy. I know that I will never live in a home that doesn’t include animals, but I often find myself wondering if having pets is just too hard. I cannot imagine anything more agonizing than watching my dog every day and knowing that I am watching the final days of his life.