Update on Oliver

Oliver came through the surgery well - his heart and blood pressure remained at healthy levels the whole time. The anal gland problem turned out to be fistulas rather than abscesses, though fistulas can originate from chronic anal gland infections when the glands are not removed. (Unfortunately, Oliver's previous vet advised his mom against the anal gland removal, a procedure which is usually recommended when a dog has more than three episodes of infected glands in a year.) I won't get into the gory details of fistulas, but for those who want to know more, this link is a good resource.

Oliver did have some small tumours which have been sent to pathology along with the enlarged testicle - it will be a few days before we get those results back. Meanwhile, our paws and fingers and toes will all be crossed, hoping everything is benign.

While one vet worked on the back end, another worked on the front end. Oliver lost a lot of teeth, which I rather anticipated. It'll be mushy food for a while for the little guy.

Oliver is staying overnight at the vets, as he is still very groggy and they are keeping him on fluids as long as possible. Hopefully, he will be ready to come home in the morning. Sleep well, Oliver - in a few days you'll feel so much better and be terrorizing the cat once again.

Thanks, everyone, for your many prayers and healing thoughts.

Holding Oliver in my heart

Today is Oliver's surgery day, and I greet it with some trepidation. He has a strong heart and clear lungs and his blood tests show no problems but he is, after all, thirteen years old with some unknown back end problems.

The vet has reserved six hours just for him. The goal is to remove the loose and abscessed teeth, to remove the anal glands, to remove or at least closely examine some other possible perianal tumours, to neuter him, and if he is still doing okay under anesthetic and those procedures haven't taken too long, to clean whatever teeth remain. The priority will be the back end, especially urgent since the discovery of one very enlarged testicle which will be sent to pathology for examination.

I have just taken him for his early morning walk around the yard. It is barely above freezing, with a heavy frost and a beautiful starlit sky. I took him by myself while the other dogs slept and I told him about the upcoming day. And I assured him that every person who reads this blog today will think healing, happy thoughts for him.

May the spirit that guides my life guide my vet's hand today, may Oli's guardian angels watch over him, and may my boy soon be back home recuperating in his favourite spot by my feet.

Oliver, I will hold you in my heart until I can once again hold you in my arms.

Humour restored

The day started with Charley rambunctiously trying to engage Sadie and Oliver in a game of chase-and-tumble on the hill at the back of the pasture. Belle, of course, was the referee, awakening the world with her constant calls.

I love, love, love watching eleven year old Charley leaping around like a puppy, barking and playbowing and mouthing and throwing herself at the others. For so many years, in another time and place, she was my Eeyore Dog - head down, slow moving, disinterested in everything around her. She is a different girl now, here on our little farm.

We continued with the morning chores. The piggies were relieved to find out it wasn’t raining, and Martin was happy to get some apple slices and sweet alfalfa with his grains.

I ran some errands, went to work, ran home after class to take the dogs for another run in the pasture – happy, happy dogs. Martin came down for meal number two and some fresh local hay.
I ran back out to do a couple more errands and to pick up fruit and veggie bits for the piggies from Lou’s – and she had a container of lovely, scrumptious, delicious, yummy homemade stew for me to take home for my dinner, complete with fresh bread and some really tasty melon. Ooooohhhh......I love being spoiled! Thanks, Lou!

I fed the dogs, fed the piggies and put them to bed, fed myself, and sat down in front of my wonderful, warm, working natural gas fireplace which a nice repairperson came to fix yesterday.

That was when Oliver began his oh-so-cute little lispy sound by sticking his tongue through the toothless gap in his mouth – “tsit tsit tsit” – which is his way of saying “I’d like to go out again please”. Oh Oliver, you’ve had two walks, I really just want to sit for a bit before I tackle some marking.

Tsit tsit tsit.

One sheltie nose on my knee.

Tsit tsit tsit.

Big eyes looking at me wistfully.

Tsit tsit tsit.

And so out we went.

And it was a beautiful evening.

It was a Winnie-the-Pooh-Blustery-Day with white and pink puffy clouds and

“The wind is lashing lustily/And the trees are thrashing thrustily/And the leaves are rustling gustily” (From: Winnie The Pooh and the Blustery Day. Written by: Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman)

I love Winnie-the-Pooh-Blustery-Days!

Martin had come back to his pen to see if he could cop another meal to make up for the one he missed in the rain and dark yesterday evening. I obliged, then took the dogs back into the pasture for their third romp of the day.

On the neighbour’s hill alongside my pasture, his llama was silhouetted in the gathering dusk against the last remnants of the blue-golden sky, long neck stretched up tall and proud, funny curved ears alien-like atop his head, black shadow animal on light evening sky.

Ahead of me, I watched Sadie as she raised her nose high in the air, head into the wind, catching the scent of llama, the breeze feathering her long fur. I looked behind me to see the two shelties, Oliver and Belle, strolling down the trail, side by side. And Charley bounced around in the rustling pasture straw, pouncing on mice, real or imagined.

At the top of the rise, I sat on the bench surrounded by beauty and watched as the setting sun turned the sky to golden and red and then slowly disappeared behind the hills.

When I returned to the yard, the neighbour was gathering crabapples from his tree to give to the piggies. I went over to give him a hand, and in companionable silence we worked together in the fading light.

Life doesn’t get too much better than this.

If only the elves had tiptoed into the house while I was enjoying nature, and worked their way through the piles of marking........

The week can only get better......

Monday was not one of the critters' best days around here. It was pouring rain so the piggies were grumpy and wouldn't even go outside to go potty (anyone wanna clean out the barn for me?????). Martin the Alpaca, on the other hand, didn't want to stay inside his nice waterproof little shelter, so he got soaked and muddy and miserable.

The bears tromped through the front yard at 5:00 AM, sending Sadie into a frenzy of barking and a frantic attempt to claw her way through the patio doors, waking up the whole household a half hour earlier than need be.

Oliver had to make an unexpected trip to the vet as one of his testicles suddenly swelled right up. He was not in pain, but one testicle is the size of an egg, and that is cause for concern. Unneutered dogs are at high risk for reproductive-system problems such as prostate cancer in their senior years. He will be getting neutered on Thursday when his other surgery is done.

Both Sadie and Charley had the runs and vomiting from the moment I got home - mostly outside but Sadie managed to decorate the living room carpet rather copiously.

Even Belle is fidgeting and chasing her tail as if something is bugging her (no, she doesn't have fleas), though I can't see any problem other than a flair up of her dermatomyositis on her nose.

And I am up to my ying-yang in marking, preparing midterms, and trying to keep on top of lecture material (it's a losing battle). It occurred to me that I have twice as many students this semester as I had last semester - I am soooo ready to retire!

So, the good news is....
THE WEEK CAN ONLY IMPROVE! (Touch wood!)

I went to a birfday party!

By Oliver

Today I gots to go to my new grandma's 90th birfday party. It was a pic-nic in a really pretty place called Williams Park. I think I like pic-nics!

My new sisters were a bit pissed off cuz they didn't get to go, just me an' my pal Becky who lives wiv my mom's growned-up kid. Becky's nice. She waz wearin' a funny cone on her head and a boooootiful purple rubber boot on her paw cuz she hurts herself an' had to have suuuurgery. My mama sez I am having some suuurgery this Thursday. I hope I get a booootiful purple boot! I dontz want a cone though - it looks silly! Becky's mama took this photo of her in her cone:



Heeheee. Sowwy, Becky! If your mama sends my mama a photo of your booootiful purple rubber boot, I will post that photo too.

The weather was 'posed to be rainy but it was not too bad. I gotz to go for some walks an' I didn't get wet. The pic-nic waz in a very nice shelter wiv a biiiigggg fireplace. My mama built a really nice fire in it and we were all toasty warm an' it waz pretty to look at too.

And I gotz lots of attention from my grandma an' my auntie an' other hooman relatives. I was a very, very, very good boy. I never barked once or did anyfing I wazn't 'posed to do.

The best part waz the yummy food! I got raw cawwots an' brocollis an' celery an' strawbleberries an' all sorts of fruits and veggies which I loves. I even gots a bit of cheese an' meat.

My mama took lots of pickchures but most of them haz peeples in them an' my mom likes to pro-tect peeple's privacy so she don't post pickchures of peeples on her blog, at least not ones of peeples' faces. But here is one of me looking adoringly at my mama's great-niece (my grandma's great-grandaughter). She's five years old, I fink. Her name is Kaia - izn't that the prettiest name you've ever heard??? It's pronounced ky-ah! She's as pretty as her name an' real smart too. She can write really nicely an' she can play moosic an' do lots an' lots of neat stuff.

She dozn't like dogs much though, so I didn't get to play wiv her. How can anyone not like dogs?????? Um, well, I could unnderstand a liddle kid not liking rambunctious or barking or growly dogs...... but how can anyone not like meeeeeee?????????? I mean, look at me! Do I look scawy to you?

Anyway, I had a vewy nice day an' so did my new grandma, an' now I am sooooo tired I am going to have a vewy looooong nap an' then go to bed.

Yours truly,
Oliver

And by the way, you three bears.....

Do you MIND not leaving three HUGE piles of scat right on my lawn when you are passing through??? As if I don't have enough poop to scoop around here with four dogs, twelve pigs, a cat and an alpaca. Sheesh!!! What a mess!!

BEARS!!! AND MORE BEARS!!!!

The bears in our area are fattening up for their long winter's nap, and there are lots of fruit and nut trees around to help them accomplish their goal. Unfortunately, many of those fruit and nut trees are right on my property, my neighbours' properties, and the vacant fields across the road.

This morning, just as dawn was beginning to show, Charley started making whining sounds near the back door. This is unusual for Charley, who seldom whines and who is usually the last dog up in the morning.

I noticed the motion-detector light on the back porch was on. Looking out my window, I caught the back end of a bear clambering over the fence not THREE FEET from my door - fortunately heading OUT of my yard, not into it. The bear was mid-sized, likely one of last year's cubs, old enough to spend time without mama but young enough not to be chased out of mama's territory until next spring.

I looked out another window to follow his progress (of course, by this time all the dogs were awake, hovering around the back door, bristling in anticipation of "something's out there!" at the same time that they needed to go out for their morning pee!).

He was joining his siblings, who had probably preceeded him just moments early - and all three of them sat down for a tasty breakfast of crabapples under the neighbour's tree less than fifty feet from my door.

Dilemma: dogs NEED out, three hungry bears with great fence climbing ability just feet away. What to do, what to do, what to do?

And then I flashed back to a time when I was about eight, tenting with my parents. A bear had wandered into our campsite. My mom picked up two saucepan lids and banged them together with all her might....and off ran the bear.

Normally, I let wild animals be - they have a right to be here too, and it is we humans who have encroached on their territory. But I knew there were plum trees and apples trees in the empty fields across the road so I wasn't about to deprive them of their only food source. I grabbed two lids, slipped out the back door, and with all the energy I could muster at 6:30 in the morning, banged away as loudly as I could and shouted at them to move.

And move they did! Fortunately, they moved away from me. Over the neighbour's crossfencing and right smack into his pond!! Now that did make me laugh, but bears can swim and have warm coats so they were in no danger. They raced across that pond, across the field, over the fence, across the road, across the next fence.....and then stood there watching me for a while before finally sauntering along the fence line in search of another tree.

Suddenly Martin, who was down by the creek in my pasture, sounded his alarm and I turned in time to see him doing a complicated dance with two more bears! I called to him, but he was in panic mode. They were not attacking him, but likely either checking for fish (I get the occasional trout swim through the creek) or having a drink. Martin, however, just sensed danger and didn't know which way to turn.

Knowing bears are more scared of me than I am of them, I raced into the pasture with pot lids banging loudly, scaring the bears away. Poor Martin was still unsure which way to move - to run after the bears up the pasture, or toward his frenzied, noisy, scary mama? Fortunately, he chose to run toward me the moment I stopped banging the lids. His nhah, nhah, nhah sounds, roughly translated into "I'm so glad you're here, mama, I was scared!" made my morning. It is the closest he has ever come to nuzzling me.

This is the third day in a row the bears have been hanging out here. Yesterday, they all but destroyed a neighbour's plum tree; the day before that, one was hanging out on the panhandle drive adjacent to my pasture - possibly getting apples from the lone apple tree along that fenceline. As long as there is plenty of fruit available, I doubt they will attempt to do harm to the piggies, but it is a worry. And lone coyote is getting far too brazen also - he no longer runs from me and is coming within a few feet of the pasture gate by the barn. And the pack of five coyotes wanders through the pasture almost daily now.

Living harmoniously with nature, respecting biological diversity, treating each sentient being with respect and dignity.....these are challenges for the human species. With winter still a couple of months away, I think I may be severely challenged for a little while yet.

On growing old

Today is my mother’s 90th birthday. It is hard for me to envision the passage of time, the passing of her life from child to youth to young woman to mother to grandmother to great-grandmother. To me, she has always been just “mom”. Until recently, she was ageless in my eyes – the same age when we immigrated to Canada in 1956 as she was when I graduated from high school in 1968 as she was when she started travelling the world after my dad’s death in 1977. The same age as she was when she was still hiking the BC mountains with her friends in the 1980s and early 90s. I remember a newspaper article about this group of five women, all in their 70s, still hiking Mt Frosty and Garibaldi and Baker - my mom and her four friends who all met through their volunteer work with the Girl Guides decades before – still together, still hiking, still laughing and singing in their senior years.

And suddenly it all started to come unraveled as first one friend died, then another; as arthritis and broken hips and polymyalgia and countless other ailments took their toll. Now Mom’s sight is almost gone due to macular degeneration, her hearing is weak, her mobility very severely limited, and her zest for life, that incredible energy and love of the outdoors and passion to be out and about and enjoying the world and all its inhabitants, has waned.

Loving senior dogs is, in many ways, so much easier than loving senior humans. My dogs don’t lament their fate, missing what they once had and no longer do; they live in the “now” and enjoy each day to the fullest. And when their suffering becomes too much, and they are ready to go, I can help them to gently leave this earth.

I wish, for her birthday, I could give my mom just one moment of the life that she so enjoyed, one ounce of that vitality, one day of restored vision and mobility. But these gifts are not mine to give.

And so instead, my family will do what little we are able. On Saturday, we will get together for one of her favourite activities – a picnic in a beautiful park – and we will gather her into our embrace, and we will love her.

Happy 90th Birthday, Mom. I love you.

The Gift

I awoke grumpy, achy and bleary-eyed this morning – I’d gone to bed too late, I’d slept poorly, my hip was hurting like h*ll (from an old injury), and I’d forgotten to set the alarm so consequently started my day later than I like.

I stumbled outside with Oliver and Belle, my early risers, and watched as they wandered around the yard doing their morning business. My mood improved as I gazed across the pasture to drink in the ever changing landscape of fall foliage sparkling in the dew and rising sun.

And that’s when I saw him. The lone coyote. On the path in the pasture, just beyond the little creek.

Oh, I’ve seen him before – many times. In fact, he usually visits us twice a day – morning and evening. But this time it was different. He was catching his breakfast. Or perhaps playing with his food would be more accurate. And he was awe-inspiringly, gut-wrenchingly, breath-stoppingly beautiful.

One of my favourite blogs, The Daily Coyote, speaks of the cat-like qualities of coyotes, of how they sometimes seem much closer to felines than canines in their movements and behaviours.

And here I was seeing it first hand. Because, just like a cat with a mouse, he was leaping and pouncing and stalking and batting and prancing and playbowing and yipping and tossing that poor little mouse or vole around in great feline style. He reminded me so absolutely of my Allie when she (thankfully) captures the occasional mouse who finds his way up from the crawl space in this old house of mine.

Coyote was oblivious to me, intent on his work. Or maybe he knew I was there but was not concerned, knowing I have respected his space before and left him time to depart before taking the dogs into the field.

Beautiful is too mundane a word to describe him. The thick salt-and-peppery fur on his torso, his brilliant white chin and chest, his slightly coppery legs shone in the morning sun as he pounced around this way and that, his head tilting at all angles to show off his lovely face topped with those two amazingly large and upright ears. I was mesmerized.

Words simply cannot convey how magical that moment was – the glory of the sunrise, the brilliance of the landscape, the intense pleasure of seeing Coyote at work and play. The scene before me gave life to the cliché “it took my breath away.”

It was a gift like no other. I am ready to begin my day.

Frost on the Pumpkin

Or, in this case, on the alpaca! This morning I woke to a beautiful sunrise and a light coating of frost on the pasture. Martin was waiting in his pen for his breakfast of grains, apple, lettuce and zucchini:

But when he turned sideways, I noticed this:

FROST! On Martin's wool! Brrrrr!

The piggies enjoyed a breakfast of their exotic pig feed, fresh strawberries (for which they say "Thanks Auntie Ewwen!"), lettuce, carrots, zucchini and beet tops (a gift from one of our wonderful neighbours). This isn't a very good photo, but Scotch is giving me the BIGGEST smile and "ha ha ha ha" laugh as he munches his goodies.

Then the dogs and I went for our walk. The coyotes have been getting very brazen lately, running only as far as the edge of the pasture when they see me, so first I have to walk the path to make sure all is clear for the shelties, lest they become Breakfast Bites.

No coyotes, but a large pile of fresh bear scat right on the trail.....so that's what all the dogs in the neighbourhood were howling about in the wee small hours of the morning! I came outside around 3 AM and shone my large flashlight into the pasture, to see two shiny eyes reflected back at me. From the location of the bear scat, I think I may have caught that poor bear right in the act. Nothing like having your bathroom break interrupted by a spotlight in your eyes! Sorry, Bear!

Once they had the all clear, the dogs were off and running. Oliver is now completely off leash and enjoying his new freedom to bounce and hop and run and gambol along the path at his own pace. He is one very happy boy!

(Click on this to enlarge it and see Oliver's happy smile! He has the BEST smiles!)

The early morning light on the changing leaves, frosted grasses, and autumn flowers was simply beautiful:

A beautiful start to a beautiful day!

Some advice for Oliver, from Charley

Hey buddy, you’s bin here two weeks today. You’s a pretty good bruver. You fits right in. But, Oliver, there are sum things you needs to learn, ‘cuz I see you doing sum pretty dum things sumtimes. So here's sum advice to make life a bit easier fer all of us.

(I askt Mom to help me wiv the spellin’ cuz I’s neva bin to schooooool, well, ‘cept to mom’s office at the unidiversity place).

1. When mom disappears inside the barn to feed the piggies, she does not have a secret tunnel back to the house. Standing at the door of the house barking incessantly to be let in does no good whatsoever when there is no one inside.

2. When you finally get the opportunity to run off leash in the pasture, don’t screw it up by making a bee line for the five-strand-wire fence at the very back of the property, causing mom to race all over the hill with her cotton pj bottoms flapping through the soaking wet grass. Not funny. At least, she didn’t think so. The neighbours had a good laugh though.

3. Lying in the bedroom doorway at night is the favoured spot of ALL the dogs in this household. If you get there first and stake a claim, expect to get growled at by the others. But hold your ground –they will go away and find a more comfy place to sleep. Even me.

4. And when you do lie in the bedroom doorway at night, expect mom to stumble over you when she blunders her way to the bathroom during the night. It’s dark, she’s not wearing her glasses, and she’s not awake!

5. If you walk away without finishing your breakfast or dinner, the other dogs will finish it for you and you will have to wait until the next meal for more food.

6. Lying behind mom’s office chair with the rolling wheels is NOT a good idea. When she tries to stand up, she pushes the chair back, you will get run over, and the wheels will steal some of your fur. That hurts. Just HOW many times do you need to have that happen before you learn to stay beside the chair not behind it?

7. If you pull back the shower curtain with your long sheltie nose when mom is in the shower, you’ll likely get a face full of water.

8. The cat is not a toy. Chasing her will only get you in trouble – with mom, with me, and with the cat. Cool it.

9. Any aggravation you cause can be instantly eradicated by putting your head on mom’s knee and looking up at her with a soulful expression in your big eyes. Mom’s a marshmallow inside.

10. If you lie directly behind the back door when mom is at work, and you sleep like a log, it is REALLY hard for her to open the door when she gets home.

11. And speaking of mom’s return from work - when you sleep so soundly that three other dogs prancing around you barking their welcome will not wake you from your reverie….well, you are likely to give mom a heart attack, or at least a few moments of extreme anxiety until she can ascertain that you are, indeed, still alive!

12. Stay away from MY crate. It’s MINE and nobody gets to nap in it ‘cept me!

Well, that’s all I kin think of fer now, 'cept to say “welcome to the pack”. We all thinks yer kinda nice.

Yer pal, Charley

Pawprints on the heart

Today I wept as I read the Turtle Gardens blog – Laddie, a wonderful old collie who was adopted by Kate, has passed away.

There are some dogs who, from the moment they walk into our lives, leave huge pawprints on the heart. I know Laddie did that for Kate, just as my Caleb did for me. They are our “heart dogs” and as much as we may love all our other critters, they are the ones to whom we feel the greatest connection. They are the ones who fill our hearts and souls with a love so deep that it cannot be described, it can only be experienced.

Kate and I met when I did the homecheck for the very first dog Kate applied to adopt from Turtle Gardens – a lovely little golden-coloured girl named Lucy. I knew in a matter of moments that this was going to be a wonderful home for a very lucky Turtle Gardens dog. A while later, Kate added another TG dog to her family – a little golden-coloured boy named Finn.

And then Laddie showed up on the Turtle Gardens blog. Laddie tore at my heart strings, and I kept going back to his photo, wondering.....is there room here? Can I help him? Could I make it work? And then my heart positively leapt for joy when Kate told me she was adopting him – he tore at her heart strings, his picture spoke to her, and she knew she needed to offer him a home.

And so she drove all the way from the Fraser Valley to Topley, BC, to pick up this dear old dog with the matted fur and skinny arthritic body. And from that moment on, he was “home”.

When we adopt seniors, and especially ones with health problems, we know we may only have them for a short while; sometimes they prove us wrong and live for a long, long time. When I adopted my Caleb, who was only 5 or 6 years old and appeared in excellent health, I thought I would have him for many years; yet eight months later he was taken from this earth by cancer. There are no certainties. If we listen with our hearts we know which dogs need us and just as Caleb needed me for the little time he had left, Laddie needed Kate. Kate provided him with all the love and care and warmth he could ever ask for. And just as he lived a good life for these past few months, he died a good death, in his home, in his bed, with Kate’s hand on his beautiful face. Thank you Kate for loving him.

I believe that those who have left this earth still reach out to us. I often feel Caleb’s presence near me when I am in the pasture, or wake to the sense of his big cuddly body on my bed, head on my pillow, just as he used to do in life.

I know that Kate is grieving today, and I can only glimpse how deeply she feels this loss. Kate wanted so much to see Laddie running in the fields near her home. He made it as far as the edge, but always turned back too tired to go on. One day soon, when Kate takes her “goldens” to the field, I suspect that Laddie will finally be there, running free at last. And quite possibly there will be a brindle boy named Caleb running right along with him.

Run free, Laddie, and let your heartmom know you are but a kiss away. Your spirit will always be as close as the love that lives on in her soul.

And one more for piggy fans

This was what I saw when I closed the barn door tonight (Click on photo to enlarge) - a pile of piggies who had put themselves to bed, blankies, teddy bear and all! What the pictures don't tell you is the noises I heard - SSNORGK..SSNOOORRKKKKK....SNF..SNF..SNOOOOORKKK - PIGGIES' SNORES!!!

Piggy Fix!!

Some days ya just gotta post pics of those smoochy piggy snouties for all the readers who need their piggy fix, so.........

Got dirt?

A little too close, Derby!

Fizzy's sweet snoutie

That's better, Derby. Good pig!

(Note: If you click on the photos in this blog, they will come up larger on your screen)

Campfire Tales

I had an overnight guest from Vancouver Island staying here last night and my friend Ellen was also here with her whippets, Cisco and Kinley, for our usual Friday night beer and dinner. We decided to light a campfire in the regulation pit (for which I finally got around to getting a permit!) and we spent the evening sitting around the fire with the dogs and our drinks, telling stories of the animals (my guest is a cat rescuer) and sharing some laughs. It was a great way to spend a Friday evening.

Most of the dogs were more interested in the food we were eating than sitting nicely in a circle around the fire for a photo op (and of course, I didn't want any of the dogs to get too close to the pit). Oliver and Kinley thought the camera might be edible, though, so they both got their pictures taken:

Oliver thinks we should make S'mores!

Kinley was more interested in BBQ ribs and fries

In other news, Oliver had his meet-and-greet-and-check-me-out with my vet yesterday. After the appropriate reactions of "Isn't he lovely" and "Oh! What a beautiful dog!" and "What a sweet boy!" from staff and clients in the waiting room, we got down to business. He was as good as gold while they drained half his blood (Oliver, you exaggerate!!! ) for his geriatric panel so we can get some baselines on his liver and kidney functions, white cell count, thyroid and so on. He was very good while the vet checked his heart and lungs (which are in excellent shape) and examined him from head to toe. Surprisingly, he ran and hid at the little light that the vet uses to look in the eyes and flatly refused to cooperate with that test. That's okay, Oliver, we'll leave it for another time.

We did find two problem areas that we are going to fix: he has several badly abscessed teeth (including a very wiggly front tooth, and a big gap beside it where his others have dropped out - he looks like a six year old kid!) and others that need a good cleaning. Getting the dental done will also help with his - ahem - halitosis.

The other problem is at the other end: I knew he had a history of chronic anal gland problems, but these are also very badly infected, swollen and abscessed and leak fluid while he sleeps. After a lengthy discussion and a look at his records, we have decided to have the glands removed. Hopefully this will resolve the problem, though there is a slight risk that he may become fecal incontinent. We will cross that bridge if we come to it. Meanwhile he gets the canine version of sitz baths - hot compresses with epsom salts three times a day - and antibiotics while we wait for the results of the geri panel to make sure he is a good candidate for surgery. Fortunately both ends of Oliver can be done at the same time, and will be scheduled for a time when either Ellen or I can be with him for several days post-op.

Oh, and he is sooo funny with his compresses. He takes the word "sitz" very seriously - when I hold the warm wet cloth to his butt, he "sitz" firmly down on it!!! Funny boy!!

And one last tale - this one for Charlie. Not Charley-the-dog, but my friend Charlie-the-man who I have known for - ummmm - too many years to count. Charlie-the-man came for a visit last Christmas and was constantly freezing in my house. Okay, yes, I keep my house very cool and anyone who comes to visit me and is NOT a menopausal woman with hot flashes better bring a warm sweater with them. But Charlie-the-man would have laughed at what I saw when I arrived home from work on Thursday.

It appears that Charley-the-dog absolutely agrees this house is much too cold. This is what I saw - all of her own doing. That blanket is supposed to be for her to sleep ON, not UNDER!! I still can't figure out how she managed to wrap it around herself like that .

So Charlie-the-man, these are for you:

And both Charlie-the-man and Charley-the-dog will be pleased to know I have someone coming to fix the natural gas fireplace on October 6th. It only took me two and a half years to make the appointment. :)