Life Happens

Sometimes life's curve balls get the best of you for a while. But if you just keep doing whatever is next a sort of equilibrium emerges. With all good intentions of making 2016 a renewed year of rants and random wisdom, time got away and then my life's companion, best friend and wife was taken from me and paralysis and loss of motivation ensued. Now a sort of different "normal" is taking shape and this medium offers an outlet for what will now be the musings of an aging widower struggling through his remaining years in the company of a sometimes cantankerous dachshund.

Previously I've had things to say about dog rescue and adoption and when last I expressed myself here I had recently lost a longtime dachshund friend to Intervertebral Disc Disease. Having lived with these little long dogs most of my life I couldn't be long without one, so I soon found a handsome fellow in foster care after rescue in North Carolina. Transport was soon arranged to Iowa where he met his new roommates. His name was Pablo. Finding this slightly inappropriate for a dog with a strong Germanic heritage I decided to name him after a heroic figure from German opera, Siegfried.

One never really knows what a dog's life may have been like before he comes to his forever home and Siegfried seemed to have come from a place where humans were not entirely to be trusted. Siegi was very wary of human hands, especially if they were holding any object. Although he never bit us, he let us know by way of snarls and snaps that he needed patience and time to learn there was no danger here. To shorten what could be a long story, the point is that a dog will learn to trust where there is love. Two years later he shares my bed, sits next to me in my recliner, nuzzles my hand for comforting strokes and wants to accompany me wherever I go. When my wife passed away, he was a real comfort seeming to know our lives had changed forever and that it was his job to take care of me.

Having witnessed too often potential adopters who give up in the early days with a new dog, my plea is to give a rescue dog time. All any dog really wants is to please the one who treats it with love and kindness. And, as I have said elsewhere, rescue dogs seem to know when they have been saved from unpleasant circumstances and will make a companion second to none.  Adopt, don't shop!

Dog Stress III all things come to an end

Last post 10 months ago. Originally this was meant to be a series about the decision to give every opportunity for a good life to a pet with success, however costly, at the end. But plans often go awry and it has taken this long for me to be able to face ending the story. So finally here is the conclusion, and perhaps we can return to more frequent entries and random rants. 

After Sam’s first surgery when we visited four days later he was not improving but getting worse so we agreed to a second surgery. He came through this one as well and a week later we brought him home to begin his recovery. It was a long road since his hind quarters were still paralyzed. But over time he gradually regained about 98%. He could walk well, chase squirrels again, take walks with me and wag his tail joyfully as he eagerly went about his doggy life. There was physical therapy involved and all sorts of logistic problems helping him get around before his functions returned but we considered these things labors of love and we did them willing.

Then six months later the symptoms returned. Same routine – ER vet, then as symptoms worsened and pain could not be controlled with oral meds it was back to Iowa State and a second surgery. We were greatly encouraged when the first day after surgery he was up and walking. But two days later a call in the morning told us that he had “a setback”. He had regurgitated something and aspirated it into his lungs. X-rays were indicated to see how his lungs looked. The next thing we knew the Dr. was on the phone with us talking about did we want him on a ventilator and when we might consider humane euthanasia! To say we were alarmed is an understatement. Finally I realized that we were talking about end of life issues and the Dr. asked if we wanted to come and see him.  We were panicked and ran to get the car out of the garage and head for the clinic but then the call came that his heart had stopped. Realizing that he had had enough and anything more that we did would not be for him but for us we declined CPR since the Dr. had told us that fighting to breathe had used up all his resources. And just like that Sam was gone.

We spent a lot of money. A lot. And in the end we lost a wonderful little companion. For weeks I was racked with guilt although I still cannot see that there was an alternative. Let him live paralyzed and in pain? Euthanize him when there was still a chance he would recover and have years more of a happy life? No and no. People who have never accepted an animal as part of their family will never understand the expenditure. People who have been in similar situations will understand all too well. We bought 6 months of a happy, healthy life for him and as a bonus had the pleasure of his companionship for that time as well.

When the wound on our hearts scarred over some, and I had spent weeks at home in a very empty house we decided to open our hearts to another homeless dog. Now we have Siegfried (Siegi), another long haired dachshund. Not that anything could every replace Sam but as my wife says “Each dog brings his own gifts” and although tears still come as I remember and write about Sam, Siegi is teaching us to love another dog in his own way.

Dog Stress II

Three weeks after Sam’s visits to the emergency vet when we thought he was back to normal on a Saturday evening (again! Those with pets know that these things always happen on a weekend or holiday.) Sam refused to walk up his ramp to sit on the couch and retreated to the kitchen where he huddled in a corner. Feeling his back it was clear that the spasms were back stronger than ever.  When we got to the emergency vet where the staff was getting to know us quite well, it was obvious that Sam was in a good deal of pain, quivering, refusing to stand up and panting – almost gasping loudly. After his examination we had a long consult with the Dr. on duty and concluded that conservative measures had failed and we were now looking at surgery. And now comes the point where some readers may ask “What the hell were you thinking?”. We were told that surgery would run three to four thousand dollars. We knew as we drove Sam to the clinic that we were likely to be facing this and what were the choices? Well, we could opt for palliative measures as he became paralyzed and see if he could adapt to life in a cart (a type of dog wheel chair), we could have him put down or we could opt for the surgery. Many times there are reasons to choose each one of these and most of them are financial. There are those who would say “let him go, it’s just a dog” and to those people all I can offer is a sad shake of my head knowing that they have never really formed such a bond with a dog that they realize how a dog becomes a family member. For many the cart becomes the answer and when considering surgery we were completely aware that sometimes surgery fails and the dog winds up in a cart anyway. But we had the financial means and even if we had to scrimp in other areas, Sam had brought so much love and pleasure to us that there really was no question that we would try the surgery. So Iowa State was called and they wouldn’t take him on a Saturday night unless he had lost all motor function, which he hadn’t. So we elected to board him at the clinic until Iowa State would take him so his pain could be controlled.

Sunday afternoon we got a call from the clinic that Sam was rapidly losing deep pain sensation and all motor function, Iowa State had been called and was prepared to receive him, so we picked him up from the clinic and drove to Ames. To shorten this long story, we consulted with a surgeon and he decided to operate immediately as soon as an MRI was obtained. There being nothing more we could do there we went home to wait for a phone call.

Dog Stress Part 1

I mentioned last time that our dachshund, Sam, was undergoing a bout with Intervertebral Disc Disease. This is one of those breeder produced diseases that comes from those in the dog show world trying to mold living creatures to some imaginary “standard”. In addition to IVDD these ailments include glaucoma, hip or elbow dysplasia, epilepsy, Cushing’s disease, cataracts, hydrocephalus, cardiomyopathy, lymphoma, osteosarcoma, patellar luxation, retinal atrophy, upper airway syndrome, and to mention just one more result of breeding to produce a desired body shape, English bulldogs can no longer give birth naturally because of the artificial selection of narrow hips and all pups must be delivered by caesarean section. This list is unfortunately but a few of the conditions caused by generations of inbreeding, and if you are a dog lover it should horrify you. But it is the standards embraced by the show dog circuit that have led to these problems and have cut short the life of many an animal that those in the dog fancy profess to love. Personally I think what they are in love with is self-aggrandizement in much the same way parents lose all control when pushing their children into sports or other activities that they wish they had excelled in themselves. But all that is a rant for another day. See http://avetsguidetolife.blogspot.com/2014/08/messed-up-breedswere-responsible.html  for more information from a veterinarian. This entry is an “up close and personal” account of one dog and his owners coping with one specific disease.

Early last spring I got the first warning sign but didn’t recognize it. I had Sam out for a walk and just as we started, instead of eagerly plunging ahead, Sam sat down and refused to go further. I reached down to pet and reassure him and noticed his body was quivering. I picked him up and carried him back to the house and sat down next to him on the floor rubbing him and helping him relax. I thought that he was having a very mild seizure. I had owned other dachshunds that had occasional seizures – maybe once or twice in their lives – it seems that this is a breed thing and doesn’t require medical care unless it is regular and persistent. So finally Sam stopped quivering and relaxed and spent the rest of the afternoon napping next to me on the couch. Life went on and the incident was nearly forgotten. Then two months later the other shoe dropped. Coming home from playing at a wedding on a Saturday night we noticed that Sam didn’t come running to greet us. Instead he just sat on the floor panting loudly. Then he would get up and pace as if looking for something. It was definitely atypical behavior and touching his back I could feel what I now could identify as muscles spasms all along his back and sides. We had no idea what to do, so after a quick call to an emergency vet, at 9:30 at night we piled into the truck and away we went. At the vet’s he got a spinal x-ray which looked normal and his spasms stopped so we were told to keep him from vigorous activity and sent home with some pain medication.

Two days later we were back at the emergency vet with stronger spasms and it was now evident that Sam was in pain. A different vet saw him and then we heard the dreaded diagnosis “herniated disk” and told to give him strict crate rest for three weeks. Again his spasms gradually receded and muscle relaxant was added to his meds. We set up the ex-pen in the living room and began the routine of carrying him outside to do his business. Three weeks later he seemed normal and enjoyed another three weeks of regular activity. We didn’t know it but we had just been through a warm up for the main event.

Summer madness

Summer's half over and I'm trying to catch my breath. Late in May my mother-in-law passed away and my wife has been busy trying to help get her small estate in order and prepare the house for sale.

About the same time our dachshund suffered a back episode requiring us to take him to the emergency (read "expensive") vet twice in a three day period. After three weeks of strict crate rest he seemed to have recovered and led his normal doggy life for another three weeks before another episode. This time he was sent to Iowa State Veterinary Clinic where he underwent two spinal surgeries within 3 days. (For those unfamiliar with the dachshund breed, because of their long backs, they - along with other long backed breeds such as Corgis and Bassets - have a congenital tendency toward Intervertebral Disc Disease. I won't go into it - you can Google it.) After 2 weeks in the hospital, much of it in intensive care, he is now at home where we are trying to help him regain use of his hind legs. The costs of this are massive and ongoing. My hair was thinning and I may resemble Mr. Clean when this is over. My sisters and brother-in-law set up a gofundme page to try and help out. You might want to check it out Sam's Surgeries . If you just want to see this guy and what's going on with him you can check his facebook page The Sam Chronicles . I could go into a rant here about what the dog show crowd has done to purebred dogs from hip dysplasia in large breeds to breathing problems in bulldogs and pugs to these back problems in dachshunds, but you can research it yourself. Look at pictures of these breeds from the early 20th century and look at them now. Inbreeding has weakened purebred dogs for the amusement of dog show participants.

In the middle of all this the community theater that my wife and I play in the orchestra for did their annual summer production. This year it was "The Music Man". Every community theater in Iowa must put this one on at least once and as a result it becomes hackneyed and overdone. Surprisingly under new direction this production was a real winner. It was a pleasure to rehearse and great fun to play the performances. I've complained long and hard elsewhere in these pages about inept direction for amateur production but this was a welcome exception. I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more if we hadn't been dealing with an invalid pet.

All of this took place after a sort of mixed blessing in that I finally retired from my support position in the banking industry. I looked forward to having a lot of time to do things I had put off doing for years but those things are getting but brief attention as I deal with every thing else rolling downhill. I considered a lengthy rant about the horrible inefficiencies of the banking industry - you know something is wrong when a whole industry can afford to waste so much money, but I'm sure that kind of information is available elsewhere and I would just like to put it all behind me.

Now here it is nearly the first of August, with Labor Day a month away and where has the summer gone? I'm kind of glad we didn't try to have a summer trip this year, but looking forward to the early Christmas gathering of my family near New Orleans in November.

The Greatness of a Nation - 1

"The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated."
- Mahatma Gandhi

This is going to be a long one. Try to hang in there.

I do volunteer work for Dachshund rescue. I got into this because I got a great dog from a dachshund rescue organization and wanted to give something back. My original thoughts when joining my organization were of helping find loving homes for homeless animals and this is in fact a fair description of what I do. What I didn't count on was the constant head on encounters with selfishness, insensitivity, mind boggling cruelty and sometimes just gut-wrenching horror. (Disclaimer: My experiences are with dogs so I'm writing about dogs. I'm sure that things are just as bad for cats. So cat people please refrain from any accusations of dog chauvinism. Further disclaimer: My experiences are with dachshunds. Pit Bull aficionados be sure to write your own rant.)

How many people are involved in Dog rescue? It's hard to find a figure for this but consider; a search on Google for "dog rescue" returned 1,390,000 hits. A search for "dachshund rescue" returned 167,000. And what is the need? The American Humane society supplied these statistics for the year 1997:

* Of the 1,000 shelters that replied to the National Council's survey, 4.3 million animals were handled.

* In 1997 roughly 64% of the total number of animals that entered shelters were euthanized -- approximately 2.7 million animals in just these 1,000 shelters.These animals may have been put down due to overcrowding, but may have been sick, aggressive, injured, or suffered something else.

* 56% of dogs and 71% of cats that enter animal shelters are euthanized. More cats are euthanized than dogs because they are more likely to enter a shelter without any owner identification.

* Only 15% of dogs and 2% of cats that enter animal shelters are reunited with their owners.

* 25% of dogs and 24% of cats that enter animal shelters are adopted.

That's nearly 3,000 animals per year per shelter or 15 animals per working day. If you are an animal lover; and most shelter workers are there because of their love for animals, not the generally low pay; imagine that your job includes taking 15 animals a day into a room and killing them. These are animals, who because of thousands of years of domestication, have learned to depend on and trust human beings. Many are abandoned or lost pets who lick the hands of the workers who administer the gas or deadly injection so starved are they for human affection.

But this isn't about the shelters, this is about those of us who try to keep pets out of shelters, who try to intercept the unwanted pet before they get to the shelter or try to help pets already in the shelter. After all, the pet in the shelter only has a 1 in 4 chance of avoiding the hand of the euthanizer.

Let’s start with the merely selfish, insensitive and stupid. When one acquires a dachshund one gets an animal whose lifespan can extend to twenty years. Fifteen is not unusual. This is nearly as long as it takes to rear a child from infancy to independence. Recent studies indicate that dogs have intelligence comparable to that of a three year old child. I have my doubts about that, it may be an underestimate. When they want to dogs can demonstrate remarkable reasoning powers, when they don’t want to they just truck along on instinct – this tends to confuse humans who frequently equate intelligence with “what I want it to do”. My conclusion is that dogs are smarter than you think and far more laid back than humans. But that’s another rant. As mentioned previously, dogs have been domesticated to the point where they are no longer equipped to support themselves without human assistance. In addition to having had a lot of survival skills selectively bred out of them, they also have to cope with less than optimal physical traits. Thus the low profile of my breed, the respiratory problems of the pug, the bad hips of the shepherd, the size of the Chihuahua and I’m sure you can think of others. In addition to all this, dogs have been bred to bond with human beings. I’m not sure that I’m being all that anthropomorphic when I say that if this does not actually equate to affection, then it is very close to it. Watch a dog playing in the park with its master or welcoming the master home after an absence be it only a brief one. To say that the dog is experiencing something close to joy is certainly no stretch.

So we’ve established that dog ownership implies a long term relationship with a semi-intelligent species that is dependent on you and is capable of something close to emotions. Below is a list of the most common reasons that people give when they contact me to help find their dog a new home.

1. Moving
2. Landlord issues
3. Cost of pet maintenance
4. No time for pet
5. Inadequate facilities
6. Too many pets in home
7. Pet illness(es)
8. Personal problems
9. Biting
10. No homes for litter mates

I’d like for you to look at the first nine items on this list as if you were the parent of a three year old human and ask yourself “for which of these reasons would I give up my child?” A ridiculous question, right? If you were moving you’d look for proper accommodations, you’d move if the landlord gave you grief, you’d make time for the kid, you’d make whatever alterations in your living arrangements you needed. You’d deal with all your offspring and their illnesses. Whatever your problems you’d deal with them. Behavior issues would be addressed.

So what is it in the minds of so many that when they decide to get a pet, the unspoken assumption lies there hidden in the dark, swampy recesses that if situations change they can always get rid of it? Is it because you can pass this little piece of selfishness off on a stranger? “Roscoe doesn’t get along with the baby. Can you find him a new home?” Can I find him a new home?? CAN I FIND HIM A NEW HOME!!! How about a new home for the baby? How about you spend a little time to modify both Roscoe’s and the baby’s behavior. My guess is that Roscoe is not happy about having his ears and tail pulled. But wait, I forgot, you are probably going to let the baby pretty much raise itself until you can pack it off to daycare or school and hope someone else cleans up your mess there as well. But I digress. Got a problem? Just find someone to take the dog off your hands. No matter that he is emotionally attached to you, you that he depends on for everything good in his life. No matter that he will be nervous and frightened possibly for weeks after you change his whole world. He may get sick from the emotional shock. If he is already sick he will get worse.

Think that the dog will get over it? Let me tell you something. I have dealt with rescue dogs for years. I have two in my home right now. They know! When I go into a stranger’s home, if they have a dog I can tell in a few minutes whether this is a rescue dog or not. In the best case scenario the dog is almost pathetically grateful and devoted to the new owner, much more so than a dog that has been raised in the same family all his life. This is the greatest reward of rescue, you sense that gratitude, that indisputable attitude you see in the dog that something traumatic happened in his life and the new owner is his deliverer. It is a humbling experience. The other sadder case is that the dog is forever traumatized and hides and cowers from strangers and runs and hides from unfamiliar experiences. For this dog life will never be entirely good because at any moment he could lose everything. After all, it happened before.

I want to talk some about irresponsible breeding and puppy mills, but I think those are going to be rants of their own. It’s a lot to take in. Thanks for listening.