A happy ending to a (literally) crappy week

Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been so obsessed with poop as I have been this week. But it was for the best, believe me.

Poor Lucy has had the Hershey’s Squirts since Monday. Of course, I was immediately concerned. The dog has a stomach of iron and eats everything that will fit in her mouth, usually without incident. I had Mark take a stool sample in for testing, but nothing was found. I was advised to cook some white rice and feed it to Lucy with her regular food for a couple of days. But it didn’t cure her loosey goosies.

“Mom? My butt hurts!”

I watched Lucy in the yard last evening. After she did her business, I went to investigate, hoping to see some sign that things were returning to normal. But things were far from normal and I also saw blood, which made me feel a little panicky. Bella had bloody stools just as she got so incredibly sick. I couldn’t sleep last night. I worried that Lucy was getting incredibly sick too. I made Mark promise to take her to the vet today.

Mark called me at work this afternoon. He asked, “Do you want the good news? Or the good news?”

“Umm… the good news,” I said.

“They found a fungus in Lucy’s stool. She has some pills to take for a few days and her poop should get back to normal as soon as this evening.”

I was so relieved! When I got home and Lucy greeted me at the door like usual, I dropped to my knees and hugged and kissed her and told her how happy I was that she was going to be just fine. She put her paws up on my shoulders and gave me a big, sloppy, wet kiss! A happy ending to a crappy week!

On a side note, for anyone wondering, “Why don’t I know who Tigger is?” ….

This is Tigger.

There’s not much to say about Tigger. Like some of our other pets, he found his way into our lives when we weren’t even looking. He used to belong to my parents until they couldn’t keep him anymore. It took him a while to get used to us. He never really did, I guess. He now resides behind the furnace for the most part and comes out for treats and a snuggle from me when I get up for work in the morning. Otherwise, he pretty much keeps to himself and prefers not to be looked at or touched.

I can’t say for sure, but I think Tigger is glad that Lucy isn’t feeling so crappy anymore too.

They’re getting to know us really well at the vet’s office

Lucy’s tummy is bothering her. I knew it was bad when Jake called me at work yesterday to tell me she’d had an accident in the house and he was cleaning it up. I’ll spare the gory details he shared except to say that he mentioned the words green and reeks. He wanted to know how much carpet shampoo to put in the little scrubber machine and also to inform me that he was going to Target for some Spot Shot. I thought it was just a fluke thing. With much of the snow melting, Lucy has spent more time playing in the back yard than she has in months. The grass is matted and there’s probably mold and gross stuff in there after a long winter under the snow. And everything goes in Lucy’s mouth. God knows what she might have eaten.

After I got home from work, she threw up on the deck a couple of times. We kept an eye on her the rest of the night. She seemed normal otherwise and I wasn’t too worried. She continued to drink and eat normally. Dogs expel a lot of bodily stuff. Figured it was just one of those things and she seemed fine this morning.

At work today, I received a call on my cell phone from a number I didn’t recognize. It turned out to be Emily at the vet’s office.

Emily is the one who assisted the veterinarian when we had to have Bella put down. I liked Emily immensely already because she loves Lucy and treats her extra special whenever we visit. I liked her a hundred times more when she cried along with me as I was letting Bella go. That day, I was asked if I wanted to keep Bella’s ashes and have a paw print made. I said yes without even thinking about it. I wasn’t sure if I wanted them or if Connor might want them, but it seemed important to accept them. Emily was calling today to tell me that Bella’s ashes were back and we could come pick her up whenever we were ready. I thanked her and told her I would probably stop in after work.

I seem to be having a harder time moving on from Bella’s death than I did with Shelby and Holly. Both Shelby, our Springer Spaniel and Holly, our gray cat lived to be ripe old ages (fourteen years each.) When their time came to leave this world, we had plenty of warning. They started slowly going downhill and we had time to get used to the idea that they wouldn’t be staying with us much longer. Maybe that made the grieving process slightly easier.

It’s been different with Bella. Her sudden illness took me by surprise and I feel guilty that maybe I just wasn’t paying close enough attention. Some days I think I’m used to the fact that she’s gone. Other days, some little reminder will bring me to tears again. She keeps showing up in my dreams where I’m surprised and thrilled that she’s come back to us. When Emily called today to tell me I could pick up Bella’s ashes, I felt okay. But as I neared the vet’s office, I felt tears stinging my eyes again. All I could think about was that day when Mark drove me there with Bella dying in my arms and the doctor and Emily waiting for us there, staying late at the office just so we could come in to have our dog put to sleep.

Thankfully, no one was in the waiting room when I arrived. I had brushed away my tears by then and was pulling myself together. A girl I didn’t recognize was at the front desk. When she asked if she could help me I said, “I’m Terri. I’m here to pick up…”

“Oh. Yes,” she said in a careful sort of voice. She stepped back into the office area and reached for a plastic bag. When she returned, she pulled out the clay paw print and explained that it wasn’t baked yet, in case we wanted to add Bella’s name or anything else to it before it was permanent. I nodded and thanked her.

Before I left work today, Mark called me to say that he was watching Lucy in the yard today and it looked like her stomach issues weren’t over yet. While at the vet’s office, I remembered I wanted to ask what they thought, and I was anxious for a distraction so I mentioned it to the girl at the desk. I went over my suspicions of moldy grass and whatever treasures Lucy might be finding in the yard. She agreed it was a good possibility that Lucy had simply ingested something that wasn’t agreeing with her.

I asked if we should be worried or if we should bring her in. I was grateful when she suggested that since Lucy seems otherwise normal, we could just bring a stool sample in for testing. God knows we’ve racked up enough vet bills over the last couple of weeks so if we can alleviate our worries without paying for another vet visit, I’m all for it.

I told the girl that I would assign the job of collecting said sample to my husband and she made me laugh when she said she would write a note to make it official that it was his job and not mine. I was appreciative but assured her that I could convince him without the official paperwork.

On the ride home, I kept seeing the box with Bella’s ashes on the seat next to me and I started to feel sad and teary again. Part of me was feeling embarrassed, thinking how some might think it is silly to feel so mournful over a dog. But another part of me was realizing that my pets have filled a hole that was left by my children growing up and that it’s natural, me being a dog lover and all, to take some time to grieve.

Anyway, when Lucy greeted me upon my arrival home, my thoughts turned away from my sadness. I remembered that I was worried about Lucy. The panicky side of me was worried that something was wrong with Bella that may have been contagious to Lucy. But when I saw Lucy acting her normal, squirrely self, I gave her a hug and relaxed a bit. And when she ate her evening meal as anxiously as ever and wrestled with Jake later on, I felt more certain she was only suffering some temporary ailment.

Also, I remembered the elk antler I’d bought last Friday at the pet store for Lucy to chew on. An online search led to some information about these antler chews being suspected of causing diarrhea in some dogs. Who knows. But Lucy’s been gnawing on hers since I brought it home and she’s done some damage to it. I took it away just in case. Then I called Mark at work to tell him that the vet staff said he was responsible for collecting a stool sample tomorrow. He was a good sport and played like he bought it.

I can’t worry too much as long as Lucy continues to be her mostly normal self. But I’ll feel better when we can get some answers and hopefully all we need to do is work on curbing her habit of treating the back yard like a salad bar.

Spring Walks

The weather is taking a turn for the warmer. The snow is melting and the neighborhood walking paths are finally clear of packed snow and ice. Lucy and I have been able to get back outside for some real exercise. She can do a good amount of running in the back yard, but she really loves to get out and explore the neighborhood.

As we’ve been out on our walks these last few days, I’ve realized how much easier it is to walk one dog as opposed to two. But I would still give anything to have Bella along on our walks again. She was so cute, the way her body skirted along the ground. And her short little legs kept up with Lucy amazingly well. It’s quieter around the house without her and Lucy has mellowed, not having to fight to be the center of attention. But I sure do miss our little Bella, every single day in a hundred ways.

The walks have been good for both body and spirit, I think. (Speaking for both Lucy and me here!) I never quite realize how oppressing the winter can feel until spring arrives and brings a breath of fresh air. We left the house this morning early enough that we seemed to have the neighborhood all to ourselves. Maybe it was the early hour or maybe it was because the skies looked like rain. Or maybe it was because the people we might normally see are church-goers and had somewhere else to be this morning. I kind of felt like this morning’s walk was my church.

Lucy pulled me along, so anxious to get from one smell to the next that I could barely keep up. We saw so many robins – the true gauge of spring’s arrival! There was a family of geese lounging in a small open area of a still partially frozen pond. They honked and made plenty of noise and I thought of how Dacotah would stand at attention if she could hear them, good hunting dog that she is. But Lucy isn’t a hunter and ducks and geese are so common around here that their calls don’t even hit her radar. There was a pair of ducks that caught Lucy’s attention though. They were resting in someone’s front yard as we were cruising on by and our close proximity probably startled them. As they started to waddle away down the street, Lucy was curious and wanted to follow, but we weren’t going their way so I steered her back to our path.

Back at home, Lucy got some breakfast and as I settled down to read and enjoy my morning coffee, I noticed her doing a funny thing she does sometimes. There’s a heat vent below the kitchen sink and Lucy loves to lay in front of it and warm up on cold mornings. She must have been feeling a bit chilly from our morning walk and she was soaking up the warmth, laying with her paws crossed in front of her in that proper way she has of doing.

It’s quieter around here this weekend than it’s been in a few weeks and I’m grateful. I needed time to catch up on things. I have a few chores and errands to finish up and then my only plan for the day is to make a big batch of split pea and ham soup – some for us and some to share with our parents. Mark’s dad has just been hospitalized with yet another case of pneumonia. Pea soup is his favorite thing. Maybe the thought of homemade pea soup waiting for him at home will help promote his recovery.

The Poop Egg

My kids, even though they are grown up, still like to carry on certain family traditions. Maybe it’s because they’re becoming adults. Maybe their sense of nostalgia is beginning to kick in already. Regardless, it does my heart good to see them willingly carry forward the family traditions.

In the weeks preceding Easter, Kacey reminded me several times to pick up extra eggs and a dye kit. She wanted to color Easter eggs with her brothers when everyone was home for the holiday weekend. And in spite of our sadness over the loss of our little Bella, we were doing our best to celebrate Easter. And staying busy helped keep our minds off of our heavy hearts.

Kacey and Connor cleared the table on Saturday afternoon. They spread newspaper and got out the coffee mugs, one for each dye color. Connor put a dye tablet in each and then measured the vinegar and water. When he and Kacey sat down to start working on the eggs, I heard her say, “We need to make sure we get some colorful eggs done before Jake starts mixing up the colors with his poop egg!”

I had forgotten about the poop egg and Kacey’s mention of it made me smile. Every year since the kids were little, Jake has made it his mission to use every single dye color on a single egg. At times, this resulted in drastic and beautiful Easter eggs. Other times? Well… that’s how the name poop egg came to be. This year’s egg was not artistic. It was poopy. But the Easter egg bounty wouldn’t have been the same without it.

The eggs were finished in plenty of time for Easter, not that anyone ate a single one of them. I don’t care. My big kids coloring Easter eggs at the kitchen table is a happy memory from an otherwise difficult weekend.

We had brunch with my extended family on Easter Sunday. It was a typical, loud and frenzied celebration. When it was over, Brad and Heather went back home, stopping by her parents’ place on the way. Kacey and Connor went to his family’s Easter celebration before they went back to school. Mark went back to bed to get some sleep before working the night shift and Jake disappeared. I put my comfy pants and sweatshirt on and Lucy and I settled comfortably in the living room in front of the t.v. for the remainder of the day.

And that’s when the loss of Bella really hit me. I had myself a good cry for a while. Lucy never left my side. I’d like to think she knew I needed her comfort. And maybe she did. But I knew she was just exhausted as well. She was worn out from a weekend of running and playing with Dacotah.

As for the Easter eggs, I used them to make potato salad to have with our dinner tonight. I didn’t use the poop egg, though. Somehow that just seemed wrong.

And as for the poop egg-maker, he’s 22 years old today! Happy Birthday, Jake!

Rest in Peace, Bella

God, I forgot how sharply this hurts. The first time we had to say goodbye to a pet, it was our Shelby dog. She was so gentle and sweet, such a loving dog. It was heartbreaking. Only a year later, it was our cat, Holly. Mark said we would never have pets again. It was too hard to say goodbye to them. And I agreed with him for a few years before my heart felt the tug to have a fur baby around again. That’s when Lucy joined our family. Only a year after Lucy came to us, Bella found us.

Bella was ten years old already when she joined our family. I guess I didn’t think much about her age. It wouldn’t have mattered to me anyway. She was such a darling. Everyone fell in love with her at first sight. She was a good pal to Lucy and helped her feel less lonely during those times when none of us people were home. She stole my heart. She “sang” for us and she made it clear to me when she wanted me to move over so she could sit in the chair with me. She slept between Mark’s and my pillows at night and I’m glad we let her do that because it meant that she was right next to me the last night she was with us.

Even if I’d known last October that Bella would only be here for a few months, I still wouldn’t have turned her away. She brought more love to our home and endeared herself to us completely.

I was so encouraged when she was allowed to come home with us yesterday. She was a little bit quieter and a little bit slower than her normal self, but she certainly looked like she was going to get better. This morning though, she seemed a bit slower than the night before. She ate her food and took her meds, but she looked at me as if she were only doing it for me, not because she was feeling better.

I went to work today, and thankfully, Kacey was home from school for the weekend and able to keep Bella company. Kacey texted me in the afternoon and told me that Bella seemed very, very tired. And I got worried. I hurried home as soon as I could get out of the office. When I came through the door, Bella came toward me and wagged her tail, but she was too tired to make it all the way to me. I picked her up and I could tell something was wrong. She wasn’t holding herself up at all, but only falling into me. Only an hour and a half later, it was clear to me that she was going downhill fast. Her breathing was getting labored and as I held her or petted her, she looked at me forlornly. I knew the end was near.

Mark called the vet’s office just as they were closing and he described Bella’s condition. The doctor agreed this was bad and she said to come in. They would wait for us.

I had to be there with her when she left this world. I kissed my Bella girl, stroked her face and told her I loved her as the shot was administered. I cried into her fur as she closed her eyes and breathed her last. It was so hard, but I knew it was the right thing for her. Deep in my heart I knew this was the time. She’s not hurting anymore, but our hearts are going to hurt for a while.

 

Love you, little Bella girl. You will be so missed.

Well THAT was scary!

Last Saturday I found blood where Bella had been laying. I called Mark to help me try to figure out what was wrong. Bella laid patiently on her back while we combed through her fur looking for the source of the bleeding. She didn’t seem to be in any pain and merely watched us with curiosity. Finding no injuries or bleeding, it finally occurred to Mark to check inside Bella’s mouth. Again, she patiently allowed him to prod her and when he lifted her lip, found that her gums were bleeding pretty well.

“I think she has a bad tooth,” Mark said.

“That would explain her reluctance to eat the past few days,” I agreed. For the remainder of the weekend, I crushed up Bella’s food and she ate happily. The vet was able to see Bella on Tuesday morning and upon checking her gums, she agreed they were in bad shape and a cleaning was in order. We weren’t surprised. Bella came to us last October with bad teeth and we knew we were going to have to suck it up eventually and pay the cost of a dental visit at the vet.  (And those ain’t cheap!)

Having a dog’s teeth cleaned requires anesthesia, so Mark left Bella at the vet for the day and picked her up again Tuesday afternoon. She was happy to be back home and enthusiastically ate her dinner and took the antibiotic the vet had prescribed because she had such a bad case of gingivitis. I hid the pill in a Pill Pocket and Bella thought she was getting a special treat.

A few hours later, Bella looked tired and was begging to sit with me. I picked her up and she snoozed in the chair next to me. I noticed she’d begun to wheeze and I was a little concerned, but when I checked online later for possible causes of the wheezing, I read that this is somewhat normal after a dog has her teeth cleaned, the result of the breathing tube that is inserted while the dog is under anesthesia.

At 10:00, Mark left for work and the dogs and I called it a night. I was tired and fell asleep quickly but was abruptly awakened at 12:30 by Jake turning on the hallway light. I saw Jake in my doorway and groggily said hi, thinking he was just letting me know he was home for the night. (I’m not sure why I thought this. He never lets me know when he’s home for the night.) I really woke up, though when Jake said, “One of the dogs had an accident and threw up and there’s blood.”

I bolted out of bed and found that Jake wasn’t exaggerating. Bella was hiding under my bed and Lucy’s demeanor was hesitant. I had Jake take the dogs outside while I scrubbed carpets and called Mark at work to tell him what was going on. We talked a bit, but neither of us could think what might be going on. I was scared, but Bella seemed to be done vomiting. I took her into bed with me and proceeded to not sleep while listening to make sure she was still breathing.

I fell asleep sometime just before my alarm went off, or so it seems. When it was time to get up I was utterly exhausted and so was Bella. Clearly something was not right. She was lethargic and still wheezing. I carried her to the back door and took her outside, then carried her back in, hoping she would eat something. She turned her nose up at her food and then proceeded to vomit more blood. Now I was panicking.

Mark was on his way home from work and I waited to leave until he got back. He took Bella to the vet’s office and asked them to call me with any information. I hadn’t been at work long when I got the call. The vet explained that Bella had no platelets. She’d had platelets the day before when she had the health assessment before putting her under anesthesia for her dental cleaning. Now she had none. The vet explained that this condition was common in chemotherapy patients and in Bella’s case, she wasn’t sure of the cause. It could be that Bella had a condition that was just now making itself known, or it could be the result of the anesthesia or the antibiotic. It was clear this was serious… the vet told me Bella might not turn around. She was going to give her steroids, keep her overnight and said we would know in the morning if she was going to make it.

I could not concentrate at work and I felt weepy all day long. I’m sure my exhaustion contributed to my inability to focus and I couldn’t wait to go home. When the end of the day finally came, I headed to my car and as soon as the door was shut, I began to cry. I was sure we were going to lose our little Bella. I called Mark to ask if the vet had called the house and he said she hadn’t, but suggested I swing by the vet’s office on my way home.

As I headed into the vet’s office, I swallowed the huge lump in my throat. The woman at the front desk asked if she could help me and I said, “Yes. My AnnaBella is here. I was wondering if someone could give me an update on her status.”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll go check and be right back.”

She didn’t return, but another veterinarian did. He smiled and said, “She’s moving around, barking, eating everything we put in front of her.”

I was stunned and speechless for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Soooo… she’s gonna be okay,” I asked?

“Well, we’re still feeling a little guarded about her outlook, but we’ll know a lot more tomorrow.”

“Do you think this was a reaction to her antibiotic?”

“Maybe,” he said. “Tomorrow will tell. You can go in back and see her if you want.”

“Really? Okay,” I said!

“But keep in mind she might not like it when you leave her again.”

I stopped mid-stride and said, “You’re right. I don’t want her to think I’m abandoning her. Maybe I better just wait until tomorrow.”

I felt more hopeful and went home to share the news with the family. And even though the news was promising, I was still so worried and sad for my little Bella. My mind kept seeing all that blood and in spite of the vet’s news, I was convinced there was something really wrong. The lack of sleep was catching up with me, I know. While Mark took his pre-night shift nap and watched t.v., I sat in the recliner and cried off and on all evening. When I crawled into bed later, I fell asleep quickly, but was awake off and on all night, worried about Bella and thinking that I had to prepare myself to say goodbye.

I felt better this morning, more able to handle whatever news the vet might have for me today. When I hadn’t heard anything by 9:00, I took my cell phone to a small private office and made the call. I braced myself for bad news, reminding myself of Bella’s age and the fact that she came to us with some issues last fall.

But there wasn’t bad news! The first thing the vet told me was, “Bella has platelets!” She was doing very well and she could go home today! She was still bleeding slightly from her nose, but the vet assured me that after a few days on the meds she was prescribing, that should stop. She said Bella isn’t out of the woods yet. She wouldn’t know for sure for a couple of weeks, but everything looked promising. She was pretty certain that this episode was not the result of some condition, but the anesthesia or the antibiotic.

I was elated! I couldn’t thank our veterinarian enough and she laughed happily, clearly happy to deliver such good news to me. I was going to be able to pick up Bella after work and take her home with me again. I left work a few minutes early and swung by home first. Jake and Kacey insisted on coming with and argued on the way there about who was going to get to hold her on their lap on the ride home.

Back to her old self

Bella is back home with us, happily eating her new prescription canned food, getting pampered and sleeping more than usual. Being so sick takes its toll and I’m sure it will be a few days before she really bounces back. But we are so glad to have her home again. (Lucy too! She missed her little pal.) We’ll all sleep so much better tonight.

Someone please wake me when spring arrives

The days feel so short this time of year. It’s cold outside and the sun’s appearances are rare. All I seem to want to do is sleep. At the end of the day, I can’t wait to change into my fleece pants and a warm sweatshirt, then retire for the night under the usual bedding of  two blankets and a quilt,with an extra layer created by my fleece tie-blanket spread on top of it all. Add in a couple of dogs curled up next to me and I’m happy. It feels like my own personal cocoon and I love it.

I’m not entirely sure how much Mark loves it, though.

Come morning, the sound of the alarm clock is a most unwelcome intrusion, even for a morning person, such as me. I slept much later than usual this morning. I went to the gym last night, so I gave myself an extra hour on the alarm clock. And when the alarm sounded this morning, it was just so warm and cozy in my bed that I kept delaying the inevitable. I hit the snooze button and burrowed deeper under the covers.

“My feet are cold. And so is my belly!”

Eventually, I knew I could no longer avoid greeting the day. The dogs always follow me right out of bed and I lead them to the back door to let them out. They’re not big fans of the cold first thing the morning either, especially when it’s still so dark outside. But I encourage them to go do their business so they can come back into the warmth. Bella is sneaky. Or lazy. Or both. She meanders around the deck, sniffing and acting all non-nonchalant. She’s trying to avoid going down the steps into the snowy yard where I’m sure it feels even colder on her little feet.

I look at her with a stern warning on my face.

“Bella,” I say through the crack in the door. She looks at me like, “Huh? What? I’m not doin’ nothin’!”

I point to the deck steps and say, “Go potty… Down THERE!”

She hangs her head and looks at me sadly before her short legs carry her down the steps. If I’m not careful, she’ll sneak in a pee on the deck.

I drove to work in the dark, with wet, dirty snow spitting onto my windshield, the only scenery a sea of tail lights ahead of me. It can be hard to find motivation and energy in the midst of these gray, cold, dreary days. The dogs know it and so do I. Sometimes you have to look really hard to find sunshine and light. But it’s out there. I found it as I was leaving work.

The pond behind the office

I was happy to see some rays of sunshine, if only for an hour today.

Walking, Talking Dogs

Oh man, it was a long day at work! I had some challenges to tackle, but all worked out pretty well by day’s end. I called Mark as I was exiting my parking ramp to let him know I was going to be late coming home, which he probably already knew since it was already well past the time I normally pull in the garage.

It was such a crazy day that I barely stopped for lunch and all I wanted to do when I got home was enjoy a hot meal and stop thinking so much. Since there was no hot meal, I heated up a pizza and plopped into my recliner to eat in front of the t.v. and temporarily reduce my brain to mush. Lucy had other ideas, though. I got the distinct impression I was receiving a talking to, although I’m not sure for what!

So I finished my pizza while Lucy and Bella waited in the foyer for me, Lucy whining desperately for me to hurry up. She was so ready for another walk, she even sat nice while I slipped her Easy Walk Harness over her shoulders.

Mark declared he was not going out walking with us tonight. So I took the two dogs out on my own this time, wondering how I was going to manage two crazy canines on two separate leashes. I have to say we did pretty well. I kept the dogs close to me as they walked me in the dark, a chilly wind blowing against us as we took a bit longer route than we did last night. We happened across a couple of other dogs who were out walking their people too. The girls raised their heads in curious greeting, but otherwise did a good job of continuing onward. Bella was so cute. Her short little legs worked furiously to keep up with Lucy’s and my long strides.

I can see this is going to become an expected and regular thing again, this dog-walking business. And it’s getting colder outside by the day. I need to acclimate to the temperatures if I’m going to keep up! (It never occurs to me to wear something  over my ears until it’s too late!) And I think I need to get a reflective vest. It’s dark out there! I saw someone walking their dog in the dark the other night. I could only see them because the dog was wearing reflective dog boots. I’d love to get some for my dogs, but I doubt either of them would put up with me covering up their feet. But who knows? The weather man says we may get some snow on Friday. I hope we do!

Tired Dogs

We’ve noticed a few things since Lucy Pie had her second hip surgery in October. She’s developed some new habits, like barking. Barking outside is nothing new. She has always paroled the back yard and made her presence known to people and dogs traveling along the path behind our yard, or to the neighbors to the east of us when they dare to be in their own back yard. She has always perched herself on the top step of the deck and answered to the barks of neighborhood dogs.

But since her surgery, Lucy has begun to bark more. We’ve decided this is her way of communicating with us. When she wants our attention, she “rumbles” and barks at us. When she wants to play, she barks. When she’s jealous of attention being given to Bella, she barks. When we talk to her, when she sees a shadow in the dark of early morning, when she can see another dog out the window of the front door, when people come to visit, when we can’t figure out what has got her attention … well, you get the idea. Lucy has found her voice.

This second surgery was decidedly easier on her than the first. We really had to work to hold her to her activity restrictions and make sure she healed properly. A few weeks ago, she was allowed to travel steps again on her own. Her care instructions said that we should ensure that Lucy walks the stairs in a slow and controlled manner, five to ten times a day. Lucy scoffed at the idea of “slow and controlled.” She bounded down the steps and she bounded up the steps. I tried to restrain her, but after weeks of carrying all fifty pounds of her up and down stairs, inside and out, my back was tired and sore. After a few days, I said, “Enough.” This dog feels well. She is clearly healed. No more holding her back. I gave her free reign of her back yard and steps again.

Since Lucy’s activities have been restricted for the past two months, we’ve noticed something else. Bella has been affected by the laid-back schedule. Bella is getting a little… pudgy.

Lucy has now reached the time in her healing timeline where we’re encouraged to take her out for walks again; short, ten-minute walks. Are they kidding? Ten minutes is not nearly enough for this dog of ours who has turned into a canine ping-pong ball. All of this restriction has made her stir crazy! She wants to run! She wants to explore! She wants to go somewhere that is not this house and not her back yard!

As Lucy was “talking” to me after dinner, I commented to Mark that we should take the girls for a walk. Lucy got quiet and cocked her head at me.

“Oh, you recognize that word, don’t you?,” I asked her. “Should we go for a walk?’

Her cute, furry head cocked the other direction as she waited for me to show her I was serious. Bella was dancing nearby. She clearly understands the word walk as well. And so it was that we went out on our first walk since Lucy’s surgery.

Oh, the dancing and excitement that took place in the foyer as Lucy’s harness was secured on her! She’s not a fan of the harness, but it keeps her from pulling my arm out of the socket while we’re walking and she knew that if she wanted the freedom that awaited her outside that front door, she’d best sit still and let me put it on her. Even Bella sat still while her leash was clipped to her collar.

Mark and I ventured out into the chilly, dark evening with the furry kids. It was only six o’clock, but it was already so dark I could barely see Bella walking in front of me. I held Lucy’s leash while Mark held Bella’s. Then he decided he didn’t like the way Lucy was walking me, so we switched leashes and Mark repeatedly reminded Lucy to heel. Lucy worked hard on remembering, but there was so much to sniff, so much to see, so much to taste! It had been so long since she’d been out on such an adventure!

In Bella’s previous home, she was used to walking off leash. She lived in a quiet, woodsy neighborhood and could wander away from her people a bit without too much worry. But in our neighborhood, she needs a leash. There are too many houses and dogs and too much traffic to trust her off leash. But because of all those years of freedom, she knows no commands (other than “treat!”) So Bella gets to run willy-nilly on her leash. Besides, her legs are short. She works hard to travel small distances.

Lucy was clearly distressed by Mark’s insistence that she heel while Bella zig-zagged ahead of us in the dark. Mark spoke for Lucy to let me know that I should at least attempt to train the nine year-old weenie.

“Why do I have to heel when that little _itch gets to run wild?”

“Lucy, stop calling Little Girl bad names,” I scolded her.

Eventually, Lucy began to remember how to walk like a proper dog. Bella continued to zig-zag willy-nilly. We walked a ways down the path and then back again and then looped around the block. Neighborhood dogs took notice of us as we paraded past them and they howled out to Lucy and Bella from the confines of their fenced yards. Lucy and Bells arrogantly turned their noses in the air, proudly flaunting the fact that they were out for a walk and weren’t they special?

Eventually, we circled ’round back toward home again where neighbor-across-the-street, Bob was stationed out in his yard as he nearly always is. Lucy remembered that Bob is the neighborhood dog-treat giver and she pulled hard to go to him, but Bob wasn’t passing out treats this time and it was cold out there, so I was ready to get back in the house.

It wasn’t nearly the kind of walk the dogs remember. They would have gone on for miles if we’d let them, but it’s been a while and we have to start somewhere. And clearly, that was a good call.

Doggy Surgery – Round Two

I really did not want to do this again. Did not want to put my puppy-girl through another hip surgery. But Mark had to be all level-headed and insist that we couldn’t just fix her hip dysplasia half-way. We’d decided earlier this year to go with the surgery option and we knew from the get-go that there would be a round two. I was just not prepared to see my poor dog in such a fragile state for such a long time.

We waited until after last weekend’s family festivities when it would be quiet around the house again. Tuesday morning, before her second surgery, I hugged Lucy and kissed the top of her head over and over and told her I was sorry until Mark reminded me, “She’s going to be okay!”

All I could think about is how I came home after the first surgery to see her laying on her doggy bed on the living room floor, flashing those puppy eyes at me and looking so forlorn. The thought of watching her go through it all again made me so sad.

Lucy came home today and she is okay.

But I still feel so sorry for her. She’s got weeks of restricted activity, therapy and healing to do. At least we’re better prepared for the healing process this time.

After the first surgery, Lucy had to be locked in her kennel at night so she wouldn’t wander around the house and put too much stress on her hip while we were sleeping. She put up with this for the first few days and then decided she’d had enough. She wanted to be closer to her people. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but she whined and cried so much that Mark and I actually took turns sleeping on the floor with her for a while. But I’m ready for her this time! I blew up the inflatable mattress and made up a bed on the floor of our room so we can all get our beauty sleep.

Spoiled dog much?

Oh, well. It’s just for a couple of weeks until she can start easing back into some of her normal routines. And by Christmas time, she’ll be good as new with two working hips and no more pain! And maybe by next spring she could even start running with me.

And this time around, Lucy’s got a pal to keep her company while she recovers. The fact that Bella is an old lady comes in handy here. She’s mellow and calm and has taken it upon herself to act as Lucy’s nurse, licking her face and paws and assuring her it’s all going to be okay.