The Dogs of the Blog

I'm still limited on the amount of time I can spend on the computer (or doing other tasks) because of my arm, so I've been choosing things I can work on a little at a time. I have a Rogues Wall in my home with photos of many of the animals who have shared their lives with me, but it was missing some of the most recent ones so I surfed through my digital photos today for suitable images. Then I became sidetracked using some of those images to create a new header for my facebook page, using a photo from a recent hike, a rainbow, and my dogs who are now at the rainbow bridge.

As you may notice, it includes just those dogs I've lived with since beginning this blog, which was shortly after I moved to acreage and took on adopting senior and special needs dogs. The picture does not include the pigs or alpaca from my farm days, nor my numerous short and long term foster dogs, nor does it include dogs who went to the bridge before I started the blog or lived at the farm (Brandy, Shamrock, McDuff, and Muffin). And it doesn't include Emma, who is still alive and thriving at her Dad's place. Allie would like to point out that it also doesn't include any cats, past or present.

I'm not sure I could make up a photo that includes all the animals that have been part of my life. But I do know that they each stole a piece of my heart - and gave me part of theirs. I miss them all.

(If you want to refresh your memory on their life stories, try clicking on the labels below. I won't guarantee it will work - it doesn't always - but worth a try). 

Sweet Shiloh, My Sunrise Sheltie

Shiloh
May 11, 1998 - April 2, 2015

This morning my sweet Shiloh, lover of sunrise walks, left this earth for the Rainbow Bridge.  She was just shy of her 17th birthday,  and she had lived with me for just 17 months. We know only that the months of her life immediately before rescue were pure hell, and I am so grateful that I had the honour of turning that around and loving her to the end.

To my sweet Shiloh, my sunrise sheltie,

You came to us thin and weak, with matted and flea-ridden fur and a broken spirit.  With Sheltie Rescue’s help, you began your new life. And then I adopted you, and  I fed you and walked you and most of all loved you, and soon you were whole again.  

People sometimes thought you still looked sad, because your tail was always down and your head seldom up, due to neurological damage from your former home.  But I knew differently – you just showed joy in other ways.  A sparkle in the eyes, a slightly open mouth, a mischievous prance with the paws, and I knew you were enjoying yourself.

There were three things that gave you great pleasure: food, comfy beds, and walks.

You loved your food.  In your previous life you had sometimes been left for days without food, and your appreciation of regular meal times was apparent.  Your old dog soprano joined in with Eddie’s and Mitzi’s meal time chorus as soon as the food bowls came out.

My funniest memory of you was on your sixteenth birthday, when you had dozed off by the time we served the frozen yogurt and dog biscuit birthday cake.  I place it on your bed by your sleeping face, and slowly you awoke, saw it, and jumped up with the biggest smile on your face I’ve ever seen! 

Yes, you loved your food. Until a week ago.  And then food ceased to have meaning for you.

You loved your beds.  You had more beds than any other critter in the house – baskets and crates, xpens and foam mattresses and soft round plush beds – though sometimes you rolled right out of them. Perhaps that’s why the raised beds were your favourites.  First you chose Charley’s old raised bed, but it was a bit high for you so I bought you another.  You’d jump up into that bed and stretch out and watch the world go by.

You loved your raised bed best.   Until a week ago.  And then you could no longer get in unassisted.

But most of all, you loved your walks.  Twice a day, you paced the hall and ran to the back door, in and out and in and out until I got the message – Walk Time!  It didn’t matter if my breakfast eggs were just at the perfect consistency, or my dinner had just come out of the oven, or my favourite TV show was ten minutes from the end of the season finale – when you said it was time to walk, it was time to walk.  Every Single Day.  A couple of kilometers in the morning, another kilometer at night.

Sunrise walks were the best – you’d drag me out of bed by ringing the little bell on your xpen, enthusiastically eat your breakfast, and tell me Let’s Go!  I’d grab the camera, gulp a few sips of coffee, pull on some jeans and a jacket over my pjs, and we’d be on our way to the waterfront to watch the fishing boats go out and the sun spill pots of  reds and yellows and purples across the bay.

You loved your walks.  Until a week ago, when you could no longer even walk across the street and the sunrise strolls ceased.

You had a Swan Song Monday, but Tuesday your body and spirit began to ease their grasp on each other. And so for most of the past two days, we cuddled, you and I – your head against my shoulder, your breath soft on my face, you sound asleep in the safety of my arms, me half awake stroking your soft fur. 

I was not ready to lose you, but you were ready to go.  Thank you for being a part of my life.  I love you more than these words can express, more than all the sunrises the world has ever seen.  And I shall never watch another sunrise without thinking of you, my sweet sunrise sheltie. 

To those involved in Shiloh’s rescue:  Katie, Wendy, Joanne and Julie – thank you.  Without your help and love, Shiloh and I would not have had those 17 wonderful months together.  I am forever in your debt. Just as she touched my heart, I know she touched yours too.   

They Know

I have never had dogs who were best buddies in the sense of playing together or sleeping together.  But in the last waning days of one of their lives, the other dogs (and even the cat) have always watched over them and lain close by.  Charley watched over Caleb, Sadie watched over Charley and Belle and Oliver, Eddie watched over Sadie....and now Mitzi and Eddie are watching over Shiloh.  She has not awakened for the past twelve hours. 

A Rather Tough Few Days

A few readers have emailed to ask how the critters are doing, and it is only right that I bring you up to speed. I shall relieve your anxiety by prefacing this post with "All the critters are okay for now!"

Eddie's seizure, mentioned in the previous post, happened on Wednesday.  On Thursday, he was right as rain. But Shiloh wasn't.  She went for her morning walk as usual, but ate hardly any breakfast and refused all dinner.  Not a good sign in my food-loving gal.  And she was getting stuck in strange places, falling over, restless, and just not herself. She didn't want her evening walk.

On Friday, she didn't get up until I woke her and had to carry her outside for a pee.  She was unable to stand or walk, disinterested in food or water.  She did not have typical signs of vestibular disease, something that often afflicts old dogs - no head tilt, no circling, etc.  By noon, she displayed all the signs of imminent death - signs I am all too familiar with from the many senior dogs I have loved:  lack of coordination, extreme fatigue, complete loss of appetite, vomiting bile, confusion, bladder and bowel leakage, tremors.

She's not usually a cuddler, but her tremors settled down and she slept deeply, with no fussing or obejections, when I held her.  So we spent Friday night curled up together - first in my recliner, then in my bed. She was completely limp and nonresponsive to touch or voice - I could touch her paws, put my fingers in her mouth, play with her ears - things that usually either make her shake the body part or try to nibble me.  I doubted she would last the night, certainly not the weekend.  Since I had the mobile vet coming to see Eddie on Monday, I gave Doc the heads up that if Shiloh had not gone of her own accord over the weekend, I may be wanting her to help Shiloh pass when she came to see Eddie.

Saturday morning, I noticed her licking her lips and making smacking noises in her near comatose state, so I used an eyedropper to place a few drops of water on her lips and tongue - which she swallowed!  A few more, and a few minutes, and she was trying to get up from her bed.  And throughout Saturday, several times she got up staggered, drank some water, went outside with help, before going back to sleep again.

Sunday was better still - in fact, in the morning she seemed almost back to normal!  She even went to the gate as if she expected our usual sunrise stroll.  But we got no further than across the street and down one house before she collapsed again and I had to carry her home.  All that day, she alternated between being up and alert for progressively longer periods of time, and sleeping.  She even showed interest in chasing the cat - the spirit was willing but the body was weak. She drank water, but still didn't eat - her last meal had been Thursday morning. Only a small bite of toast (one of her favourite treats) even tempted her, and she was unable to propel it to the back of her throat. I was pretty sure today would be her last.

And this morning?  She popped up at first light.  She trotted outside for a pee. She drank water. She chased the cat,and managed to get a few tail hairs in her mouth.  She ate a little breakfast , though most of it fell back out. She was alert and following me around the house and garden  for at least a couple of hours.  And all day long she got stronger and stronger.

When the vet came at 3:00, I was still undecided.  Was this a swan song?  Was she going to recover fully from whatever it was that had nearly taken her Friday?  What to do, what to do?

The vet examined her and observed her and decided one of two things (or possibly both) had occurred. She had suffered a stroke or similar neurological event and/or she was coming into heat.  Okay, that may sound strange - dogs come into heat all the time without exhibiting harbingers of death.  But some of you may recall we almost lost Shiloh last spring/summer when she had a two-month heat with discharge that just wouldn't end,  she stopped eating, stopped going for walks, just lay in her bed sleeping, day in and day out.   (In case you are wondering why she is not spayed - since coming to live with me in October 2013,  three vets have advised me not to spay this old girl who will be 17 years old in six more weeks - the risks of her dying during the spay, given her age, overall frail condition, and boggy uterus, are as great or greater than the risks of her dying from another prolonged heat.)

If what happened was a stroke, she will likely have another one from which she will not recover.  If it was heat, she may or may not make it through. But she might also have several weeks or months of good living left to do.  So we decided, based on how well she was doing when the vet was here and the fact that her heart and lungs sound good and she's drinking lots of water, that we would wait and see. She was simply not ready to go today.

I do have another tentative appointment booked for Thursday in case this is but a swan song  (we are heading into a four day weekend here when my favourite vet will not be available) - but I will cancel it if she continues to regain her quality of life.

For now, for today, she has improved exponentially,  and she ate a nearly normal size portion of dinner tonight before jumping up onto her favourite raised dog bed, unassisted, and settling down for a nap.  She is one amazing sheltie.

As for Eddie, he has developed at serious heart murmur - minimum grade 4, possibly a 6 on the six-point scale (with his anxiety and panting and barking it was hard to hear the nuances that differential 4, 5, and 6 beyond knowing it is very, very noticeable).  However, that only explains his recent fatigue on hikes and is not related to his seizure.  For that we have taken blood tests and stool tests and should have some results Wednesday.  The results will likely not tell us what caused the seizure, but may help us rule out some things like renal failure, liver disease, and thyroid problems.

The bad news is that dogs his age rarely suddenly develop epilepsy, which shows up in young dogs and can be controlled with medication.  Grand Mal seizures in an eleven year old dog are more often caused by a brain tumor. The good news is there are many cases where a dog of any age has one seizure and never has another one. However, between the seizure and the serious heart murmur, Eddie's hiking days are pretty much over - gentle short walks for now at least.

And that's life at my house with the critters.  I'm sorry there's no pretty picture to accompany this post.  It has been an emotionally and physically exhausting few days.

Hearts and Critters

(Well shoot - in trying to adjust the template so the right hand border of the collage would show properly, I changed the whole dang look of the blog!  Guess it is a hint that it is time to redesign it.  And here I thought I was doing great to put together this collage with the heart and the writing and the frame using PicMonkey.  Aaack - I need my own personal computer guru!) 

One of those rare moments...

My critters aren't particularly closely bonded to each other, nor do they tend to hang out together.  So it is a rare moment when I see all four of them in the same room, let alone in close proximity.

Of course, the click of the camera awoke Mitzi, who then moved, which awoke Eddie, who then barked, which awoke Allie who then took off, which awoke Shiloh - who then chased Allie, of course.  So much for peaceful moments.

On the First Day of Christmas....

The Critters and I wish you a very, merry Christmas.  We  have neglected our "blog-only-not-on-facebook" friends these past few months, and so we have a special gift just for you.  For the twelve days of Christmas, we shall blog every day - sometimes photos from adventures we posted on Facebook, sometimes a new photo or story, sometimes an encore post from a favourite long-ago blog entry.  I hope that blogging for twelve consecutive days will get me back into the habit of writing and posting regularly - if not daily, then at least once a week.

And so, my friends, a very, merry first day of Christmas, from the critters and me -

From Eddie Claus 

And Mitzi Elf

I wanted to be Mitzi Claus, but the other critters said
I looked like a Shriner in this hat!

And Shiloh Reindeer

And Allie (aka Grumpy) Cat
(Allie:  I hope youse sleep wiv yer eyes wide open!  )

And, of course, Merry Christmas from your
scribe and photographer, me!
(Thanks to Penticton Bev for the photo ornament of me shown here!)

Just touching base

When my mom was alive and was still able to use the phone, she would sometimes start her call to me with "Just thought I'd touch base with you".  In my infrequent emails to my daughter, I often find myself starting with "Just a note to touch base".  So after not blogging for three weeks, but not being motivated to write or post much, I figured I should at least "just touch base" with my readers.

The SPCA garage sale was a huge success - we raised a total of $42,800, all for our local animals.

16,000 square feet of gently used merchandise!

I still have done nothing about fixing the computer I spilled coffee on.  So I still access email by remote, can't do all the stuff with my photos that I'd like to do, and don't have my writing programs on this laptop.

But that's okay, because weekend before last I had a horrific case of bursitis in my shoulder - something I've not had before - and ended up in emergency unable to move my arm one iota.  A cortisone shot, some tylonel 3s and several days later, I can type again, but I'm limiting it to a few minutes a day - pretty much just checking email and facebook. It is, of course, my RIGHT arm, so while it was immobilized I compensated with my left arm and now have a back ache too. And, of course, my garden is still not finished.

I did paint the shed door I built
before my shoulder gave out!  

But that's okay, because I have more pressing matters on my mind - my Sweet Shiloh has been very sick. She has internal bleeding for which the vets have been unable to find the cause despite my emptying my savings account into their office coffers. I've decided not to put Shiloh through any more tests and we are just taking it a day at a time.

Ah hope ah get some sym-pa-thy!  

And therefore tonight I cancelled the vacation I was supposed to take next week - my annual camping trip with my friends on the mainland.  It wouldn't be fair to leave a petsitter with the responsibility of making life-and-death decisions for Shiloh.

So... please excuse me if I continue to not blog for a while.  It's all a little overwhelming.

I make no promises about posting for the rest of this month, but this I will say:   On July 1st, I will publish my annual Canada Day post featuring my best photos of the last 12 months.  Or at least up to a few months ago when I spilled coffee on the ones I hadn't backed up.  But whatever I can salvage, I'm sure the post will celebrate our nation in true Life with the Critters style.

Sunrise from my back yard

Meanwhile, please keep Shiloh in your thoughts.

Jean

Shiloh and friends

Shiloh is feeling a little sorry for herself as she developed a hematoma on her ear (likely related to her neurological issues which affect that side of her head and cause her to frantically bash her head along the floor or furniture on occasion).  Yesterday we had to go to the vet's to have it aspirated. Hopefully the ear will now heal itself and no further more invasive procedures will be needed.  She goes back for a recheck and some blood work on Tuesday.

I reminded her that the vet is her friend, but she didn't believe me.  She says friends don't stick needles in you.  She likes her other friends better, like the ones that came to her birthday party earlier this month:

Hugo

It's hard for humans to enjoy a feast
when the canine guests are taller
than the table!

Keaghan obediently waits for
the humans to finish eating.

And she likes human friends who visit her and give her cuddles instead of needles.  Recently, our Sheltie Rescue friend Joanne and her daughter Julie, who fostered Shiloh for the first month of her new life last fall, came for a visit.  They were happy to see how healthy she was (this was before the hematoma appeared!), and Shiloh was happy to see them.  I think she remembered them and certainly didn't hesitate to snuggle with Julie and give her little sheltie kisses.  It was a great opportunity for me to get some shots of Shiloh's beautiful face without her walking right into the camera:

I remembers you!

Look mama! It's mah cuddle friend!

I likes her much better
than mah vet!

Shiloh's beautiful face

There's one more friend in Shiloh's life too:

Ah has a new friend!

It's a Shiloh mini-me!  I couldn't resist getting it for her for her birthday as it looks so much like her except for the completely white nose.  Her mini-me is very well behaved and quiet, and best of all will never develop a hematoma.

He can kiss mah ear all better!

How to Wake a Sleeping Princess

Yesterday was Shiloh's sixteenth birthday.  It was also Mother's Day and my daughter had flown in for the weekend.  And it was my good friend Else's birthday.  It was a busy day - from the moment Shiloh awoke until the garden pawty with her human and doggy friends in the late afternoon.  

Pawty Time!

By the time we brought out the canine 'birthday cupcakes' (yogurt, frozen with dog cookies in them), she was already asleep in her bed.  Of course, I couldn't let sleeping dogs lie - not on her birthday!  I can't resist sharing this series of photos, even though they are terribly out of focus.  Here's how you wake a sleeping princess:

Place birthday treats and tiara next to princess.

Place tiara on head
(because princesses should always be dressed for
their birthday photographs)

Shiloh:  "Ohhhh!  Treats!"
(note tiara tumbling off  to left of photo)

For me?????
Wow, thank you!

It is the first photo I have ever captured of her 'happy face', and as blurry as it is, I'll be keeping it forever. 

Happy sixteenth birthday my sweet girl.  Though you have been with me for only six months, you have brought me so much joy and I love you so very much.  

Shiloh then and now

It is just over three months since Shiloh came to live with me, four since she came to the attention of Sheltie Rescue.  Regular readers will remember this sad, sad photo that a friend emailed me asking for my help:

Shiloh, one week before rescue

Her full story is here, but a quick recap of her condition will highlight how much can be accomplished with four months of a healthy diet, exercise, and love - even for a Very Old Dog like Shiloh, who will be sixteen in May.  When Shiloh first came into care, her skin was a mess, her fur was sparse and dull, she scratched and bit at herself constantly, her back end was so weak she could hardy walk and often fell over,  she was very timid and hand-shy, and she was skin and bones.  She had been neglected and abused.

Just four short months later, she is a healthy weight, the flakes in her skin and the bald patches are completely gone, she no longer scratches or bites at herself, and she has developed a thick, beautiful coat.  

Hi Mama, you called?

Shiloh in sunlight and shadow

Best of all, her back end weakness is virtually gone.  She loves, loves, loves her daily walks and usually does a two kilometer loop every day which includes time on the beach as well. She can now run fast enough and has enough stability to chase and jump at the cat, though she is learning that neither the cat nor I approve of such behaviour.  

Shiloh, learning to "leave it"
when the cat passes by.

Oh, and she has become Miss Congeniality – walks right up to every person and every dog she sees.  She is a very popular dog-about-town.  She is, however, a bit hard to photograph because as soon as she sees me looking at her, even with the camera in front of my face, she has to come running over to say hi!  

 

Oh boy a person to pet me! 

She is a great, great dog and I love her to pieces.  

Seeking inspiration

You can always tell when my newspaper column is due because I stop blogging for a few days while I scramble to come up with some topic that will appeal to the readership of this small town.  This is the fourth year that Liz, my co-writer, and I have been producing the Crofton column for The Chemainus Valley Courier, and when you live in a little village of perhaps 2500 people (including those in the more rural outskirts), with virtually no services, so few stores you can count them on one hand, no bank, no hardware, no drugstore, no doctors or dentists, no high school, no gangs, and very few drug addicts or criminals - well, sometimes coming up with interesting stuff to write is a challenge.  Most often, we talk about the beautiful parks and seawalk, nature, birds, fun events like the annual fishing derby or polar bear swim or Christmas parade and sing-a-long, or we interview an old timer with an interesting tale to tell or an artisan with a unique talent to share.

But when you've been writing a column for several years (and both of us contributed to a quarterly Crofton newsletter, now defunct, before that), it can sometimes be hard to come up with something fresh and new.

Liz and I usually take turns with the primary responsibility for writing the column, the other person offering suggestions, doing editing and proofreading, and supplying much-needed prods as the deadline looms closer. And it is my month to write.  And the deadline is the end of the day tomorrow - oops, probably today by the time most of you read this.  (Hmmm, Liz, maybe some of your amazing chocolate quinoa cake would give me the prod I need!).

So that's why I'm sitting at the computer at 11:00 pm blathering away on the blog -  to get the writing part of my brain in gear and hopefully find inspiration for the column.

In the hope of finding that inspiration on a typical foggy grey day in January (Cartoonist Lynn Johnston once referred in a comic strip to February as "that four month period between January and March" - here on the island, it is January that stretches to four months), I wandered down to the beach with Shiloh one morning this week.  Actually, we wandered all around town and then down to the beach - for a dog who is nearly sixteen, that girl can hike!

C'mon, mom, let's see what we can find
to write about!

We looked to the north west

and to the south east

And to the southwest..
but couldn't find a story.

 I came up with a few ideas as I watched the dozens of ducks swimming in the bay, a heron on a piling, and a clump of fresh green mossy grass growing on top of an old piece of wood that supports the RV park's wharf.

Two llittle ducks went out one day
Over the hills and far away....

Heron on a piling

Under the wharf
See the grass on the cross beam?

Springing forth from wood

Shiloh thought perhaps I could write about all the logs that have broken free from a boom on its way to the log sort at Shoal Island - they may be a hazard to local boaters, but they do have a pretty red colour and some interesting chains and holes.

This is interesting, mom!

Log and chain
(photo taken in a different season!)

I came home with a few ideas, and before I could get them onto paper,  Bonnie phoned to suggest we take Eddie and Keaghan to Swallowfield.  So off we went.  Not too much exciting there (we were both tired, and the river was high and fast, so we didn't go all the way to the estuary) - though Keaghan did spot some other people far far across the fields:

I see something!
I hear something!

And when we returned to the parking lot, the old tree above our cars held this guy:

Be nice or I'll poop on your car!

He was completely unruffled by our appearance or by the dogs, and calmly watched us as we got in the cars and headed for home.

I'm watching you.

..where I again sat down at the blank screen and thought: what the heck am I going to write about?
Oh well, there's still a few more hours.