Learning an Old Dog's tricks

Today was the Seven Sons' birthday. 

That is what I always called Scout and Tanner's litter since there were seven puppies and they were all boys.  Scout and the rest of his remaining brothers turned 13 today, as Tanner would have if he were still here.  The Seven Sons are more the Fabulous Five now.

Scout is still doing pretty well for turning 13.  He is definitely showing his age and has gotten rather tottery.  Like many old dogs, he has lost most of the muscle in his hips and he does wobble from time to time.  He gets Previcox and joint supplements every day to help with arthritis, but he still manages to go on hikes with us.

Scout is still very much convinced that he is the ruler of the world.  He is certainly the old patriarch of the pack.  The puppies are very respectful of him and are always extremely careful not to knock into him.  They aren't always so careful of us humans as FB can attest to today having been run over by a very large puppy.  We like to think we are in charge, but the truth is, we can't hold a candle to Scout.  We can yell and holler and they mostly listen, but one twitch of an eyebrow from Scout has those puppies fawning at his feet.  There are a lot of tricks that only an old dog can teach.

It isn't easy watching such a vibrant and strong-willed friend become frail with age, but it is also good to see that Scout does not feel diminished at all.  There is a lesson in that.  There is the sorrow and the beauty of an old dog who still lives fully and joyfully in the knowledge of his own worth. 

Happy Birthday Scout and to the rest of the Seven Sons.

There's no stopping a Tsunami

I know a lot of people probably have questions about what happened to Tanner as his end came so suddenly.  The thing about kidney disease though is that there are no early signs of it.  Most dogs show no symptoms whatsoever until they have irrevocably lost at least 75% of kidney function.  Tanner, who was a hyper-dedicated, overachieving Border Collie did not show signs until he had lost closer 95% of kidney function and was on the brink to total renal failure. 

While his end was sudden, in hindsight there were some subtle signs.  I took him to the vet last year and told her I thought something wasn't quite right.  His coat wasn't quite as beautifully soft and silky as it always had been, he tired faster.  This summer, I noticed signs that his vision was not what it had been.  No one but me ever noticed and given Tanner's extreme phobia of all things vet related, his vet and I both agreed that lots of test were not in his best interest. 

I can say now that Tanner had Chronic Kidney Disease.  It happens in about 10% of dogs and 20% of cats.  It can happen for a number of reasons, but in Tanner's case it was most likely either congenital or occurred secondary to a cancerous tumor.  We did not bother to figure out which as it was completely irrelevant.  The end would be the same regardless. 

Kidney disease is a bit like a Tsunami.  It starts like a little ripple out in the deep ocean that builds and grows slowly.  It gradually gets bigger, gathering momentum and speed as it moves relentlessly onward.  A boat traveling over it in deep water probably won't even know it's there, but when it finally reaches shore, it's path of destruction is unstoppable.

In Tanner's last couple of weeks, he started getting increasingly picky about food.  Then he began leaving meals unfinished.  Eventually he refused to eat altogether.  At first, I took no notice.  He has always been a somewhat fussy eater and it was not unusual for him to skip a meal.  He was never highly food motivated, he'd drop a steak dinner at the sight of a Frisbee. 

He began to have increasingly bad breath.  I thought he might be having trouble with a broken tooth or have something stuck in his throat - his habit of playing with sticks finally coming round to haunt him.   Last Friday, he was still playing with his brother, the picture of health.  By Sunday, he wouldn't eat and was showing signs of lethargy.  On Monday, I set out to find a new vet for him as his regular vet had retired.  After trying 4 different clinics, I finally lucked out on the 5th when the vet herself actually answered the phone.  She told me to bring him in that afternoon. 

I think she knew before she ever saw him.  If he was someone else's dog, I think I would have known too, but denial is a powerful thing.  I had managed to convince myself that we could fix this right up until the vet stepped out and showed me the test results.  His numbers were so bad that the blood analyzer kept throwing error messages, convinced that they couldn't be right.  But they were.

We tried.  We put tanner on intensive fluid therapy and fomotadine, hoping that he would respond, but the Tsunami had hit the shore.  He went downhill VERY fast. 

Once I knew, or accepted, that it was hopeless, I made arrangements with my horse vet to come out to the farm and put Tanner down, honoring a promise I made to him many years ago, that I would not let him suffer and I would not let him die in a vet clinic.  The night before, I gave Tanner a large dose of prednisone and lots of fluids, which fixes nothing, but made him feel better.  We played some Frisbee.  In the morning, more prednisone and FB and I took him and both of her dogs down to Tanner's favorite creek.  For a short time, he was once again the Lord of the Forrest, the fearless trailblazer, the steadfast companion, the protector.  He even went for a swim.  Afterward, one last car ride home and we sat on the lawn together.  He was very content, sitting with me, enjoying a massage as he surveyed his kingdom.  Eventually, he laid his head on my thigh and went to sleep.  The vet showed up shortly after and Tanner barely woke.  I held him in my arms as we all said goodbye. 



I know a lot of vets advocate yearly blood tests, lots of screenings.  Had I known of Tanner's hidden illness earlier I might have been able to start fluid therapy sooner, but he would have HATED that.  Some dogs respond well to a very low protein diet, then again, many don't.  Some advocate a diet of very high quality protein instead.  Tanner got nothing but best all his life.  They say fish oil can help.  I was already giving it to him for his joints.  There is some possibility that I could have bought him a couple of more months if I'd know earlier.  Then again, it may be that all the things I was already doing had already bought him an extra year.  Knowing would have been a blight on both our lives.  I'm glad I didn't put either of us through the trauma to find out.  There is no stopping a Tsunami anyway.

I made a pledge to Tanner when he was just a pup that I would give him the best life possible, that I would make every day his birthday.  When there were thunderstorms or gunshots and he had to hide in the bathtub, he probably thought they were lousy birthdays, but I know I always tried my best.  I have no regrets, but I miss him terribly. 

***

I'm going to take a little time off from the blog, from the computer.  I tried, but it's just too hard right now and I'm not good company anyway.  Thank you all for your caring and support, I can't tell you how much it means.  I'll be back in a little while, for now, I have to go hug a donkey. 

Laid to Rest

Tanner 

10/28/2002 -9/25/2014

Goodbye my friend.

Thank you, everyone, for all of your caring and support.  I've had so many amazing emails and comments that I am overwhelmed.  Literally overwhelmed.  I simply cannot find the words to reply just now.  I will when I can.  I do want to send out some special thanks to FB and RB for all your help and support this week and to RB's husband who unexpectedly showed up with his excavator to help me lay Tanner to rest properly.  Thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my broken heart.

Bad News

My dog is sick.  Actually, he is dying.  He was fine last week, but started not wanting to eat and following me too closely on our walks.  Yesterday, we went to the vet.  Tanner was very well behaved, which scared the crap out of me.  Tanner hates the vet.  The blood-work came back unequivocally bad.  He is in full renal failure.  He is getting medicine and fluids.  They are not helping.  He has gone from seemingly completely healthy to dying before my eyes in a matter of hours.  He will be gone soon and will take half my soul with him. 

A Dog's Day

 

Tanner Speaks Out Against the Unfairness of it All

You humans really have to rethink this whole 4th of July concept.  It's bad enough already, what with the hot, hot, hot and the bugs, bugs, bugs AND I had to take refuge in the bathtub three times already this weekend. I keep trying to explain to Mom that it is the only safe place to be during storms. She just doesn't get it, even after all these years.  Mom is a good human and I can't imagine life without her, but she can be awfully dense at times. I do try hard to look after her, but it isn't easy.

And then there's the bombs in the air thing.  WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE THINKING?  Mom says they are just fireworks and I don't need to worry.   See what I mean about her being a bit dense sometimes?

Tonight was the WORST.  The neighbors had a big party with huge, HUGE bombs.  Even Mom was muttering about fools and idiots setting off giant bombs directly over the top of their 1970's trailer house; being glad that everything is so wet that not even a moron with a rocket could make the field burn and that this is why her driveway is 300 feet long.

All you people out there are probably wondering how the prey animals took the massive explosions going off 50 feet over their heads.  The horse got a little nervous the first time, but the donkeys didn't care.   Huge, HUGE BOMBS going off over their heads and they didn't CARE! It just goes to show that those donkeys aren't as smart as everyone thinks.

Do you know what the absolute worst thing was though?  As if heat, humidity, bugs, thunder and BOMBS wasn't enough; Mom took me to the VET today.  Can you blame me if I told that horrible, evil vet that I would bite her if she touched me? So what if I broke a tooth and I'm having episodes of bad lameness.  I'm fine, FINE.  There is no reason to subject a good dog like me to such torture. 

At least they did listen to me.  Finally.   Mom says my tooth is OK as is, she got some medicine for me and, best of all, she says that she and the vet agreed that I am not going to have to go back there.  The humans will try to work things out over the phone as any aid the vet can offer is nullified by the trauma that visiting the terrible, evil place causes me.

I think the vet is just afraid I'll bite her.  That's OK with me and I guess that is why a good dog should never give up on his person. She may be dense at times, but she does try.

Now that I've got all this off my chest, I guess I might make it through this awfullest of holidays.   Mom says the worst of the bombings should be over with (although I am not at all sure that I believe her), she has stuff to make me feel better when I need it, I get to keep all of my teeth, there was no thunder tonight and I have my very own fan.  I suppose things could be worse.  Maybe. 

Now, if everyone would just learn to play Frisbee or chase sticks instead of setting off bombs, the world would be a much better place.

Security Breach

Now that the snow has finally gone, the toys have reappeared.  I gathered most of them up the other day, which was a Border-Collie-Security-Breach of massive proportions.  I was informed, in no uncertain terms, that each and every toy was fully and completely accounted for already and my interference was not appreciated. 

Each and every toy had to be thoroughly inspected and placed in a new Border-Collie-Approved position.  Such positioning might appear arbitrary and random to us humans, but I assure you, it is not.

The security status remains on high, orange alert.  The Dancing Donkey Farm is at Def-Con 3.

In light of this massive breach of security, Tanner has asked me to review all of the rules applying to all toys.  He has even been so kind as to dictate said rules so that there will be absolutely no confusion about them.  Hopefully this will prevent any further security breach emergencies. 

The Rules

Part 1.  No toy or perceived toy shall be moved, dislodged, misplaced or otherwise handled without the express permission and instruction of the Border Collie (heretofore known as the BC, Security, Investigator, Judge, Jury, Executioner, etc.  AKA Tanner, AKA Farm Manager, AKA The Boss).

Part 2.   No toy or perceived toy shall be be played with, used for games, or otherwise handled by any other creature residing on this farm or on any other property within this solar system without the express permission of the BC.

      

       Part 2a.  No permission of such handling will be granted by the BC now or ever.

Part 3.  Definition of a toy:  Any object that the BC has deemed to be a toy.  This includes, but is not limited to:

• All balls, jolly balls, basketballs, footballs, or any spherical or semi-spherical object or ball-like substance that can be kicked, thrown, chased, bitten, etc. 
• Frisbees, Frisbee like objects, or any disc shaped substance that can be thrown, caught, bit, etc.
• Selectively chosen sticks retrieved from the woods by the BC for the sole use and entertainment of the BC.  

      Part 3a.  If in doubt, all determinations are to be made solely by the BC at his discretion.

Part 4.  The BC expressly prohibits any equine, especially and particularly donkeys, from handling, sniffing, touching, or interacting with a toy of any kind at all times.

    

       Part 4a.  Acceptable donkey toys consist of such useless, pathetic items as traffic cones and bits of old garden hose.  The example below illustrates highly illegal and forbidden activity.  Looking at and casting a shadow upon a BC approved toy is NOT allowed.

Part 5.  The utilization of any toy is the sole purview of the BC.
    
       Part 5a.  The BC will decide each day which toy will be utilized for that day and all other toys shall be ignored until such time as the BC decides to change toys.

• Any human chosen to throw or kick said toy must be able to differentiate between toys.  The throwing or kicking of the wrong toy will be punished via a Border Collie Stare that will fully and completely convey to said human the full extent of his/her failure along with the puzzlement of the BC as to how the said human could be so totally lacking in  basic intelligence.  

Part 6.  Failure to comply with any of these rules, or any other BC rules not listed here, constitutes a severe breach of security and can not be tolerated.   A breach may result in any or all of the following:

• The toys will be moved by the BC into Ultra Secure Storage, the location of which will be known only to the BC.
• Any human attempting to contravene these rules by allowing or encouraging any other creature to play with toys, especially and particularly donkeys, will be subjected to a Border Collie Stare of such soul withering intensity, that said human will know absolutely and completely the total futility of his or her existence.  Furthermore, said human will also have to live with the pure, unadulterated guilt of his/her betrayal.

Part 7.  These rules are subject to change without notice and at the sole discretion of the BC. 

• It is the responsabilty of each individual to know and understand all BC rules at all times.  
• Ignorance of the law does not exempt one from the law. 

 We thank all of you for your attention to these vitally important security measures. 

Framed

The Help

I'm sure you all have noticed the ugly pile of leftover firewood lying, half covered, in a heap on my lawn.  Well, now that I have finally gotten the roof on my wood/storage shed, it is time to get that firewood put away in it's new home.  I was making good progress on this job last weekend and then....the "help" showed up....

"Do we get to eat this stuff this winter?  It's not too bad really; a little chewy, but tasty...."

"i BET i COULD JUMP THIS!..."

"You know Ma, I still think you should teach me to drive this thing..."

"i COULD JUMP THIS TOO!..."

"WOW, WHAT HAPPENS IF i PUSH THE RED BUTTON???"

"Hey Ma, you missed a few pieces.  You know, you really ought to get some help around here..."

"HMMM, DO i EAT THIS? JUMP ON IT?  ROLL ON IT???"

In spite of all the help, progress was made.  Unfortunately, it was a small, inadequate pile of firewood that will require a great deal of adding to before the cold weather shows up and some of the help remains unimpressed...

"All that time messing around with firewood and donkeys and what have you got to show for it?  A big patch of bare dirt and a very bored dog.  Do you think you could try throwing the ball at least once this minute?"

What About The Dog

Evemarie (hi Evemarie) asked me where Tanner has been during all of this baby drama.   He has, once again, proven himself to be the best dog ever.  As soon as he realized that there was a new baby in the barn, he made a point of staying far away.  He stopped coming to the barn with me and instead kept a vigilant and quiet eye on all the proceedings from the far side of the house. 

Emma and Ramsey have been living on part of my lawn which is normally Tanner's territory.  I have them there because the grazing is better for Emma and it is easier for me to keep an eye on them.  Not all of the grass in the fields has been mowed and I'd never be able to find Ramsey out in the tall weeds.  He would have a hard time navigating through it as well.  He is only a couple of inches taller than Tanner and weighs half as much.  I don't want to misplace him:)

Tanner is none too happy that the donkeys have invaded his space, but he is being very good about it.  He has been extremely careful not to bother Emma or be any kind of threat, which I am grateful for.  Before the birth, I had been concerned about how I would keep him safely away from her.  There is a good reason why donkeys are used as guard animals after all and new mothers are always dangerous to be around.  However, Tanner knew just what to do.  I know how intelligent Tanner is, yet I still underestimate him sometimes.  I never cease to be amazed watching his mind at work. 

 

You can be sure that Tanner makes himself very scarce when this little devil gets going...

 

PS - I know my camera needs cleaning, but I haven't figured out how to do it yet.  It is the internal works of the camera that are dirty.  I am working on it, for now just bear with me please.