Day 5173

 I made the call around 10AM Saturday morning.

After speaking to the oncologist, I finally felt certain that there was no reasonable path forward. I had tried for a week to bring her appetite back with prednisone but all I got was a really thirsty dog who was wasting away. 

She was weak and getting weaker. A part of me wanted to wait, selfishly. After all, she gobbled up her cod dinner just the night before. Another part of me couldn't bear to see her become any more of a shell of her former self.

We stopped at McDonald's on the way over. Andrew ran inside, and I sat in the back seat with the dogs.  

I thanked her. Told her I loved her.

On the ride over, Red curled up next to her and Marge put her head across his back. One of my favorite things that they did on road trips. 

My mom and sister pulled up at the vet's office beside us. I brought Red over to their car, and they entertained him with a frozen Toppl in thr back seat while we went in.

Marge got out of the car after her first round of chicken nuggets and promptly squatted down to poop. It was solid.. not always a given with her, especially not lately.

She then sniffed the tree nearby. She looked happy to be doing it. She hadn't been interested in much of anything the past couple of weeks, so I stood and let her do her thing.  I couldn't deny her. 

We entered the office. It was quiet. They ushered us straight in to the room on the left. They had a nice thick towel down on the floor, but I brought my blue plaid blanket for her, one that had accompanied us on so many of our trips. I wound up leaving it with her. 

She laid down readily. She was tired.

Our vet marveled at her and all she did in her life, and how she was healthy throughout all of it, aside from her GI issues and a little back pain. She did such a good job in that moment, as weird as it might be to say.

We fed her some more chicken nuggets before she was sedated, and then off she went, peacefully, with her head on my left leg.

We brought Red in. He seemed more concerned with comforting us. He's such a good, sensitive boy. He tried so hard these past two weeks to help, I know it's been hard on him. 

And then off I went, with several glances back, to move forward without her. 

I am broken and tired right now. And I'll have more to say. But for now, I wanted this all in one place. 

Day 5163

 Day 5163.

That's how many days have elapsed since Marge first set foot into my home and into my life.

She's resting quietly in her bed now, at 7:11pm. I just picked her up from the veterinary hospital, where she spent most of the day.

An enlarged spleen was found on ultrasound. We're awaiting biopsy results. The options are not good. Most likely, lymphoma or mast cell cancer. Less likely, an infection. Even though an infection sounds like it would be good news, a tick-borne illness would likely require such long and high doses of antibiotics that we've agreed may not be the best choice for a dog with an already-sensitive GI tract, especially one in the state she's in now.

Friday, she was a mostly normal 15-year old dog.

Today, she is tired. Sedated, still, from the meds and stress of the day. But tired.

The days ahead do not look as though they're going to be easy for me.

But I am trying to be as strong as I can to make them easy for her.

Still Around

Howdy. It's been like three years since I've written on here. I can't even access the Photobucket account associated with it, despite multiple attempts.

Lately, a wave of nostalgia has hit me, I read through all my posts, and there's a little itty bitty piece of me thinking of reviving this blog. I found it strangely comforting to read through all of our old adventures and see pictures from so many years ago.

Marge is 15 years old. She retired from Rally Obedience last year, after earning her AKC Rally Championship.  We stopped doing agility a year or two before that. She had earned her MACH2 a few years back. In Obedience, she earned her CDX title. We tried to keep going in Nosework, but she doesn't seem to really want to do it any more.

Marge's golden years have truly been golden, filled with lots of hikes (including 4 trips to Acadia National Park, one about two months ago) and cheerleading Red as his dog-sport career has gotten into full swing.  She's slowing down a bit, now, though these ridiculous and excessive temperatures aren't helping.

I know that I am entering a new phase of Marge's life where she is becoming an old dog.  I don't think she's going anywhere just yet, but I do know she physically and mentally can't do what she used to do any more. Often, this means making the choice between changing my plans, leaving her behind, or taking the dogs on separate adventures on the same day. It's tough. 

Yesterday I didn't have to make that decision, the weather made it for me. The whole fam went out for a stroll along the river, wading around and not really hiking very far due to the heat. 

For some reason, I love this blooper I took on my camera.

I am acutely aware of how lucky I am that it took until age 15 to reach this stage where we have to go a little slower.  That's one and a half, even two lifetimes' worth of living for some dogs. But I am still having trouble with it.

I don't know what my point in writing this is, but I guess in and of itself is the point of writing, isn't it? 

Maybe you'll hear from me again soon, maybe you won't. Today, I felt like writing. 

I hope, even if she's now old, that her relative good health and mobility continue and she can continue making memories with me.

Even if they're a little different than before.

On My Soapbox.. Again

Red, still in MS.

(Giving the same preface I always give... I am a supporter of responsible breeders as well as responsible rescue/rehome efforts.)

There is a blog post going around called "Dog Trafficking: A Multi-Million Dollar Business." Google if it you want, I'm not posting the link here. It was written in 2016, but seems to have gained some ground on social media over the past couple of days.  It brings up some concerns about the exchange of dogs from the southern USA to the northeast USA. It also holds special contempt for Greg Mahle, owner of "Rescue Road Trips" who transports dogs in this pipeline and makes money doing it.

If you know me at all, you know that I support ethical rescue. My own preferred version of ethical rescue includes the following.

• I do not support "adopt don't shop." 
• I do not support the idea that every dog is rehabilitatable and should be placed in a home. 
• I absolutely acknowledge that there is a lot of bad and a lot of greed in rescues. Most importantly to me,
• Some rescues don't hold dogs long enough to get an idea of temperament, leading to some of the situations you see on the news about dogs just attacking "out of nowhere"
• Some rescues adopt dogs right off of transport to unsuspecting owners, leading to the dogs getting returned when the adopters realize they've bitten off more than they could chew
• Some rescues fly dogs in from faraway lands, sometimes carrying serious diseases, sometimes claiming they're "meat dogs" when realistically.. no one stops to ask why so many people in Eastern Europe or Asia are eating purebred Golden Retrievers
• Some rescues go to auction and spend thousands of donation dollars to save one dog and subsequently line the pockets of puppy millers, therefore keeping the cycle going

Et cetera. All of these things may help an individual dog, but do much more harm than good for dogs over all, in my opinion.

Most of the people sharing this blog post would probably nod along in agreement with my points above. So.. if I feel this way, what could I possibly have to say in opposition to this blog post?

Welp. Frankly, I've read the post a couple of times and have arrived at the same conclusion over and over.  There is an important message in this post, but that message is buried deep under a ton of vitriol that vilifies adopters and makes outrageous claims with little supporting evidence. This all, therefore, negates any positive message the post might have about the problems with the system.

I repeat. This blog post calls people who adopt southern dogs and people who feel good about moving them up here gullible and brain dead.  At the surface, you can see why I might be offended by that statement, as an owner of southern dogs myself.  My second southern dog was not at all any kind of do-gooding impulse purchase. He was acquired by me with a ton of careful consideration, after scoping out both purebreds and mixed breeds, adults and puppies.  He was in foster prior to my acquisition of him, and the rescue group and foster were both happy to answer my extensive questions and let me dictate how the meet and greet went. I'd likely work with them again.

However, realistically, I do not need or care about some blogger's opinion on where my dogs come from. I've been at this stuff a little while now. So what's my real issue with this?

Well.. people have similar things to say about those who acquire backyard bred dogs. Or dogs from the meat trade. Or puppy store dogs. Or doodles. Or whatever's the latest pet buying craze that people disagree with. And while some or all of the things they say might be valid points of concern, they are presenting their concern in the completely wrong way.

Okay, so maybe you do acknowledge there are some problems with acquiring a southern dog, or a $5K designer dog, or a BYB dog, or whatever.  Do you think that calling people names is going to help them say "oh, okay, that's a good point, let me work with you and find a better breeder or better rescue group next time?" All that shaming does is piss people off and turn them away from you.  It doesn't make them your friend, it doesn't make them respect you, and it therefore neglects to solve the perceived problem at hand because it doesn't change their mind. 

And then there is the other stuff spewed in this venomous post.. the claim that the southern overpopulation of dogs is a mythical fairytale, and some vast majority of the dogs pouring north are doing so under false pretenses.

I am sure dogs are stolen and imported by unscrupulous rescue groups, but I have a hard time believing it is a significant percentage of the dogs coming up from the south. I have seen some of the claimed-mythical overpopulation for myself.  Spoken to many people, including Red's former owner, who live there. Visited the shelter Marge came from.  I have seen intact male dogs wandering with my own eyes on nearly every trip I've made to the region. I have read the Facebook posts where people in places like Mississippi say "my girl had a litter and I can't keep the puppies, someone come get them." The south has dogs that people in the Northeast want.  Houndy, labby, herding mixes. You may question how well local organizations and their north affiliates are helping to curb these unwanted litters, and I'd say that's a valid thing to look in to. But, if you're going to make a claim that most of these dogs are actually offshore fly-by-night imports bred specifically for resale, who are run through shelters to get transported north, I WANT HARD PROOF because that's a pretty big, different claim.

(As an aside - I am going to get flack for this, but I personally feel that this guy, Greg Mahle, is filling a niche.  People in the north want dogs.  The south has dogs.  Greg Mahle makes money moving dogs south to north.  He is not a rescue hero, he is some guy filling a transport void that would be filled by someone else if not him. If the media wants to make him a celebrity, I couldn't care less as long as it's not in an adopt-don't-shop, anti-breeder manner. I think neither positively nor negatively of him.)

It very likely would make for a better dog-owning America if the only dogs available were purposely bred animals that people had to wait in line for.  It would certainly be better for the dogs as there would be no unwanted animals then, no impulse purchases, no animals to save and no animals to "save."  I do think that would require a drastic change on how the pet "industry" in America as a whole operates, which would have consequences more far reaching than just "the Smith family has to wait for Rover to be born". Until that utopia occurs, though, the question remains, despite the posts clamoring to END THIS and END THAT.  Americans want dogs, want them now, and everyone is talking about where not to get one, and not talking about where to get one.  

In the current climate, hobby breeders are an excellent choice but cannot meet America's demand for dogs in full and even if they could, some prospective pet homes are unwilling to wait on waiting lists.  Commercial breeders are the antichrist and now.. moving unwanted mixed breed dogs from south to north is no good, either, and wrought with conspiracy and disease and greed and and and.  

So what do we do?  Do we just sit around and complain about all of the things we disagree with, or even if we don't have all of the answers, do we attempt to educate-by-example without name calling and truly, earnestly help people make decisions that better align with our own morals?

I know what category I fall in to.

I personally feel that the people who "do their homework" with regard to dog acquisition didn't arrive to that point by accident.  They met a "dog person" (be it someone involved in good breeding, good rescue, or both), got to know them, wound up admiring them and their mindset, valued their opinion, etc and did more research.  

They did not arrive there because a blogger on the internet got snotty over where their dog came from.

On My Soapbox

If you get your dog from a reputable, responsible breeder, I will support you.  I will not push an "Adopt Don't Shop" agenda or accuse you for being responsible for dog overpopulation or full shelters when those things have nothing to do with you.

If you get your dog from an reputable, responsible adoption or rescue group, I will support you.  I will not tell you that a puppy from breeder is always a better choice or claim that adult shelter dogs all have behavioral issues and are not safe for a family.

If you compete with your dogs in the myriad of activities that organizing agencies have to offer, I will support you.  I will not accuse you of exploiting your dogs for prize money or green ribbons or "forcing" them to do something for someone else's enjoyment.

If your dogs are beloved pets, couch potatoes, hiking partners, fetching buddies, I will support you.  I will not share images of grossly overweight animals to allude to the idea that a healthy, happy dog kept as "just a pet" is somehow inferior to a show dog or working dog.

If your dogs are working to better our world, or the worlds of their owners, through service, livestock tending or guarding, sledding, hunting, police work, or any of the other things they may have originally been bred to do, I will support you too.  I will not make claims that having dogs spend a lot of their time outdoors is mean, or carry on about their work being dangerous.

I'm really tired of the divisiveness.  Yeah, the Greyhound thing started this.   Meme after meme being shared on Facebook, on either side of the argument, about all of this so-called "abuse" going on. Too many people pushing different agendas when really, they each want the same thing: to own their dogs and share the life that THEY want to share with them.

Just because I may opt to give my dogs the type of life they have, doesn't mean that it works for everyone or every dog.

We are too quick to use the word "abuse," I think. A show dog or working dog that spends its entire life doing show dog things or working dog things is not being abused.  While far removed from the duties of the average American pet, please remember.. having dogs just so we can dress them up (yeah, I do that), spend thousands on pet food (yeah, I do that too) and paint their nails funny colors (OK, this one's not me) is a relatively new thing.

Likewise, a slightly pudgy pet dog or a dog who is a certified couch potato is not abuse either. Remember.. not everyone has the time, money, or desire to hunt with their beagle or herd with their Border Collie.  If the dog has a roof over its head, food and water in its bowl, adequate vet care, isn't engaging in destructive or dangerous behaviors and is loved by whoever takes care of it, why are you being so quick to get on your soap box?  All you will accomplish is swaying those "pet people" to believe you're a snob rather than having them ally with you when the dog breeding legislation pops back up.

Maybe I wouldn't give my dogs either of those lives.  Maybe some people feel that either or both those things are wrong. But.. it isn't abuse and it doesn't require any legal interference.

Abuse is somebody choking the show dog when it doesn't perform or overfeeding their overweight dog to the point that it cannot walk normally due to excess weight.  Go ahead, get involved then.   Let the existing laws do their work.

All you people who gasp every time you see a male dog who still has all his parts (*owned by someone responsible who isn't going to make him meet up with the random pretty girl dog down the street) - guess what? If dog breeding wasn't a thing, and every animal ever put on this green earth was spayed and neutered, then we'd eventually have no more dogs (or at least not enough to meet demand), and definitely no more dogs bred to serve specific purposes. 

And on the flipside, if everybody got their dog from a breeder and shelters weren't a thing then we'd have no homes for some of the truly lovely shelter dogs that are capable of many of the same things their purebred counterparts are.  Not to mention, we'd possibly not have enough responsible breeders to meet the public's needs and you'd see an uptick in backyard/puppy mill-type operations.  Maybe those "rescue people" will find themselves suited well to a purebred dog one day.  Maybe they won't.  Just because someone does not choose to get a purebred dog doesn't mean they don't support and stand by them and their purpose.

I am ambivalent about Greyhound racing.  I do not know enough about it to completely decry it and tend to think that if there was widespread abuse, we'd see it and hear about it.  I do think the industry provides a ton of well-adjusted pets once the dogs retire and I take in to account the fact that 100+ rescue groups opposed the ban.  I do think that a percentage of people voted on a quick snap Yes or No decision without doing research and weighing the pros and cons. But that isn't what this post is about.

What this post IS about is understanding that some people do things with their animals that I'd never dream of doing.  Just like I do things with my animals that some others wouldn't ever dream of doing, either.

And that's OK.  Short of true physical or mental anguish... leave each other alone.  I love my mutts and think they're both pretty fantastic.  They suit me and my lifestyle well.  BUT, I have loved, admired, or worked with purposefully bred dogs, shelter dogs, working dogs, family pets, and everything in between. Support each other and learn about each other rather than trying to pass laws about things that you might not know everything about.  Educate the people around you on your ideals for animal ownership but let them make their own decisions.

There's room for everybody.

Double Trouble

I had a very informative private lesson with Red yesterday, getting him ready for the beginning of what I hope to be a very successful stint in the Obedience and Rally rings.  I was told that I have talent on my hands with him, by someone who is one of the leading obedience people in my area.

It has basically led to me redefining heel position for both dogs.  I TAUGHT them both to forge.  I got away with it with Marge because she always had a tendency to get laggy in competition, but with Red, it's pushing him in front of me and causing us to flub up really simple stuff.  He isn't being "bad" - he doesn't understand the criteria!

The prescription: several small sessions a day "doodling" and getting both dogs comfortable in *real* heel position.  Doing lots of set-ups so I form the correct picture in their heads of what "heel" looks like. Of course, I took it upon myself to use these exercises for Marge, as she was home and comfy in her bed when I had Red out at the lesson, but since I want to bring her out for her CDX next year.. it's worth doing.

So far, so good.

It's fun (albeit sometimes stressful), having to juggle Red, Marge, Obedience, Agility, Rally, and (for Marge) Nosework plus a real life.  Still, I don't think I overdo it with them.  Just a couple of weeks ago, they were out at about hiking all over the place.  Trails that I didn't know Marge could do - yet she made it all the way up and all the way down with no issue.

Maybe I'll actually revive this blog and start posting again.  At least I know that 2018 will not go by without at least one entry!

I Flew The Coop

I had been obsessively searching Petfinder for weeks.

Hours.  I mean, to the point where I was probably spending more time scrolling mostly aimlessly at dogs I had no intention of adopting than doing much of anything else.  Addicted, maybe.

I had spoken with breeders, met and inquired about available 8-week olds, and honestly.. it didn't feel right.  Bawling and thinking about how Marge was going to hate me if I made an 8-week old come live with her outweighed any ounce of joy that I had about the thought of bringing home a second dog.  (Nothing against breeders at ALL, so please don't take it that way.  I just couldn't bring home an infant this time around.)

I finally mustered up the courage to submit an application for a Cattle Dog named Luke available through a rescue in NJ.  We met him, and I was lukewarm on him (no pun intended), but after literally two weeks of having the application open and filled out on my computer, I decided that I'd at least give a meet and greet between this dog and Marge a shot.

It wasn't meant to be.  The day I submitted my application, Luke was adopted.  And honestly, it was OK.  It wasn't the right dog for me, and I was trying too hard in my brain to think about why it was good and why it would work.

Still, I think the experience lit a fire under my butt because I knew I couldn't hem and haw and expect dogs to still be available several weeks later after no action from me.

The following day, I again went on Petfinder, keeping my search radius so large that I wound up looking at dogs three hours away in Connecticut.

I saw this.

I said out loud, "What the [expletive] is THAT?!"  He was so cute.  A 7-month old Cattle Dog with a perfect description.

I submitted an application later that night.  That was a Sunday.

I e-mailed 24 hours later looking for a follow up. 

By Thursday, I was on the phone with the rescue coordinator setting up my 3-hour roadtrip with Marge and Louie to meet this little guy.

Fast forward to Saturday.  Six minutes from the foster's house - after a 3-hour drive in my new Ford Escape - I pulled in to a baseball field parking lot and bawled.  Why did I need another dog?  Marge is still young, still active in agility and picking up speed in obedience and Rally.  Would a new dog thwart our plans?

I went in to that foster's house thinking that there was no way I was coming home with another dog.  Not a chance.  This dog would have to be perfect, and I'd have to have basically no reservations about his behavior around Marge.

The rescue group deferred to me on how we'd do introductions.  I opted for a parallel walk with NO sniffing or interaction at first, gradually letting them get closer and get their sniffs in. It went fine.

After walking quite a bit, we turned them loose in a yard.  There was no more avoiding it.  If it didn't work now, it wouldn't work ever. 

One snark from Marge, then play bows, and then she ran around the foster's yard with this puppy like I haven't seen her do in years.

We signed our papers, loaded two dogs in the car and started on our traffic-filled voyage home.

Fast forward a few weeks, after the new-dog equivalent of some kind of weird postpartum depression equivalent on my part (Marge never really had an adjustment period, other than maybe spending a little more time on her couch chair), and I finally introduced Red to the world.

After a lot of digging and a little stalking on the internet, long story short, Red was an approximately 7 month old Beagle/Cattle Dog mix from Mississippi whose owners sent him to the shelter after they were unable to curb his bad behavior around poultry.

Rescue put him on a transport truck to Connecticut, which is when I found his profile and decided I had to have him.

You'd think a leash may have helped with the whole eating birds thing, but hey.. I got an awesome dog out of the whole deal.

So, without further ado.. this is Northbound Flew The Coop, and he's part of our story now, too.

But don't let that angelic face fool you.  This guy is a wild child.  He is well behaved in the house, amazing with Marge, and a blast while training.. but he's still got a lot to learn about life in the city.  Very different than training a fearful dog. Stay tuned for some training posts about him, particularly as I navigate an 8-week online mentorship with a trainer/behaviorist who I hold in VERY high regard.