About Lily: A Difficult Decision

During the past few days I spent my 15 minute writing period discussing Lily, her behavior problems, how they have intensified over the past 6 months, and the difficult decisions that must be made about this situation. Dr. Nichol was, in the end, very frank about the stark choice that we face. He was quite clear that if we decide to keep Lily in the household, we would never be able to let our guard down regarding her for the rest of her life, even if we use medications and behavior modification, spending thousands--primarily on the training--she will remain untrustworthy. The only option to removing her from our household is euthanasia. Or as we used to say in those days when the Engineering Geek and I were growing up, putting the dog down. And the decision remains ours. He did not tell us what to do.

From the outside it looks like an easy decision: the dog is displaying more and more fear-based aggression, and the target is generally Shayna, the low dog on the totem pole, the dog who is generally quiet and shy. The obvious thing to do is to put the difficult dog down and to let the shy and quiet dog blossom. Except. . . except that such black and white pictures of the two different canine temperaments happens only in mediocre novels and B-movies.

Although Lily has indeed been showing more and more incidents of aggression towards Shayna, she is still a sweet and obedient dog with us, and is a pleasure to have around most of the time. Since consulting our very capable trainer, Casey, we have instituted a program of home training and she not only has learned to sit, stay, and down-stay, but she is beginning to come when she is called. She is affectionate, and she enjoys Umbrae's company much of the day in the dog run without incident. All of this makes it very difficult to contemplate putting a healthy dog down.

And Shayna's shyness is not all sweetness and light. It has the dark side of fear to it. Shayna will snap if she is cornered by a person, especially a large male person. She never makes contact, and the snarl and snap are a warning: "Look at these teeth and leave me alone!" If she is not cornered, her MO is to run to her "office" (her crate) and hide. She is very reactive to loud noises--pots and pans banging, a door slamming in the wind--and she is absolutely melded to her routine. Although all dogs are creatures of routine, Shayna gets physically ill when it is changed. Shayna can be said to be on sensory overload a good deal of the time, and she manages her anxiety with routine. She, too, will likely need a course of anti-anxiety medications and has already begun training--the beginning of her behavior modification.

By now, the gentle reader may be wondering why it is Lily's behavior and not Shayna's that has created the need for the decision that we are about to make. The difference lies in the nature of the behavior problem. Although both dogs are reactive, Lily's reaction consists of an all-out attack. Further, she has not only attacked and physically injured dogs, she goes after strangers and has come close to injuring people. And that is a line that cannot be allowed to be crossed. Although during the current escalation of aggression, Lily has only attacked other dogs, this must not be construed to mean that it will always be so. Lily cannot be trusted with other people. Ever.

It is also a grave concern that Lily attacked and injured Shayna in the dog run, when we were not there. Usually dogs do not fight when alone. When they fight--which is more common among females*--they tend to fight over resources. Food. The dog bed. Attention. And a person can generally end the fight by walking away. That she attacked when we were not there is very abnormal behavior and is impossible to predict or prevent except by keeping the two dogs completely separate. Forever.

*Female-upon-female fighting is very common. Male-upon-male is a distant second. And male-upon-female almost never happens. Had I known this, the make-up of the canine side of the household would have been different.

These are the reasons that the decision must be made about Lily and not about Shayna.

As is true with most difficult decisions, this one has moral implications. It is generally the moral import of a decision that makes it difficult. Choices that are about pure preference are seldom difficult. We go with what we like. Chocolate or vanilla? Cake or pie? There is no moral dimension to such a decision, as as human beings become practiced choosing our preferences, we make such choices without much thought.

But a decision that involves life and death, even that of an animal, has a moral dimension. It is not the same moral dimension as such a decision about a human being. That is entirely separate. Animals--even animals as sophisticated in social structure and the ability to make decisions as a dog is--are not moral souls. They do not make a conscious choice between good and evil, right and wrong. Rather they make decisions based more on instinct, and are hard-wired to act in favor of survival. And an animal is not conscious of its own death in the future. Dogs, like most other mammals live in the moment. (Dogs are aware of the difference between a living animal and a dead one, but they do not generalize it). That consciousness of impending death is what makes the human a moral being; the myth of the tree in the garden is a story about becoming conscious of mortality and thereby acquiring the need for morality.

Because she is a dog, Lily will not be aware of her impending death--should that be our decision--even when we go to put her down. We will make sure that her passing is unanticipated and painless. A walk in the meadow. A ride in the car. Going out to the garden at the Vet. That is all she will know until she knows no more.

But we are aware of it. And so the factors of our decision include important questions. When is it proper to destroy the life of an animal? Is it ever proper to spend thousands upon thousands of dollars on uncertain treatments for a dog, when a limited amount of discretionary wealth inevitably means that humans in the family will have to choose to do without certain wants, and even needs?

What about Lily? Is she ever really relaxed? Does her anxiety overwhelm the good life for her? What does it do to her brain to go repeatedly into that out-of-control place?

And, of very great importance, what about the threat of pain and suffering to another human being that Lily poses? As much as we'd like to believe that we can keep Lily from encountering another person and harming him or her, there is always chance. Dogs escape. In the confusion of comings and goings, they see the open door and the beckoning world and out they go. Lily was on a leash and slipped her collar and ran toward the neighbor dogs that she bit; they were minding their own business on their own property. She could do the same to a human being should she go into that "red zone" and get loose.

In my moral calculus, a human being's welfare is more important than the life of a dog--even a dog I love. This is so because I am obligated to respect the rights of another person, and also because I can only imagine the pain and fear caused to another person who is attacked by a dog. A dog for whom I am responsible, and whom I cannot cure.

And of course, every attack by a dog on a person creates problems for neighbors, dogs and dog-owners everywhere. Whole breeds of dogs are collectively held responsible for the irresponsible behavior of a dog owner who willfully or inattentively lets a dog harm a person. Dog owners find their lives more and more restricted, no matter how responsible they are and how good their dogs are. It tears the social fabric, making for strife between neighbors, anger and fear, and inevitably guilt and shame for the responsible dog owner. Can I keep a dog that is clearly becoming more aggressive, one that I have been warned can never be trusted, and take the risk of creating such chaos?

These are the questions that must be answered. The nature of the questions themselves predict for me the inevitible conclusion. A little time must be taken in order that every human being in the household has the opportunity to ask these questions and prepare themselves for the consequences of the decision that must be made.

A little time. But not so much time that a decision is never made. Not so much that the decision is taken out of our hands by events. A mensch--a real human being--does not let events determine her morality. This idea has been a long time coming to me, even though it seems so simple. I was raised in chaos. I did not learn until late that what I do matters. It has an effect upon the world. In fact, the home(s) or origin for both our problem dogs probably mirrored mine in that important way. But I am a human being and I can learn to be a mensch, and I am obligated to make decisions based upon my ability to think about the future and to make conscious choices. And so, too, with the other humans in the house.

This is not an easy decision. But then, life was not meant to be easy. Life was meant to be life. And it is in the wholeness of life and in the nature of a human being to make such decisions.

About Lily: We Get a Prognosis

"You didn't create a monster," Dr. Nichol assured us as we left the small exam room at Albuquerque's Veterinary Emergency Center. "You were dealt this problem."


After six months of incidents involving aggressive behavior of our dog Lily toward our dog Shayna, and two other dogs in the neighborhood--each incident of which has caused injuries, and repeated trips to the vet for the other dogs--we were at the end of the line. We had consulted a trainer, purchased crates, used calming collars, instituted behavior changes, each of which had been cause for hope, and each of which appeared to achieve a certain measure of success--for a little while. After a quiet period that lasted 4 months, Lily has once attacked Shayna again, and this time it took a dry-firing of a 22 to get Lily to disengage. Poor Shayna had both staples and stitches, and she is becoming increasingly reactive to sudden movements and loud noises. Not a good situation for a dog that lives in a house with a family.


When Shayna was being treated at ABQ Vet Urgent Care Center, Dr. Fizpatrick told us that we ought to consult a behavior specialist, and she recommended Dr. Nichol, who is working on his board certification for Veterinary Behavioral Medicine. "This pattern is not going to get better," she said. "In fact, it is going to get worse each time. Exponentially. Unfortunately, he is not cheap," she continued, "But Jeff is well known throughout the region. He's among the best."


So last week, the Engineering Geek worked from home for a day in order to babysit the dogs, and he spent an hour on the phone with Dr. Nichol's research assistant. We both filled out long questionnaires and submitted them by e-mail. The questions not only required that we detail the agressive incidents, we were also asked why we had chosen this dog, what her daily habits are, where the dogs sleep, how all the dogs and the cats interact, and more. From our detailed answers Dr. Nichol was able to glean quite a bit about our dogs, even before he met us--and them.


On Wednesday afternoon, I loaded all three of our canines--Lily, Shayna, and Umbrae into the Honda, and drove over to the Veterinary Emergency Clinic. There, the Engineering Geek met us, and we went into a two-hour consult.


Dr. Nichol met us in the foyer, greeting the dogs first. A promising sign, I thought. He complimented us on the use of the Gentle Leader head-collar for all three dogs. When we got into the consult, he got straight to business. He had read our questionnaires, and he had many questions. Most of the consult was related to the questions, and near the end of the consult, he also listened to and responded to our questions.



According to the information we had been given about the consult, sometimes dogs are examined and given a battery of lab tests to screen for underlying health conditions before behavioral interventions and any medical treatment begins. When I asked about the blood work toward the end of the interview, the mood got very serious.



Before we get into that, I would like to discuss with you the prognosis for this dog, he told us. Basically, he said that we have a very complicated situation. We have two dogs with behavior problems--Shayna, who is very shy and reactive and may not be using normal signalling to other dogs, and Lily, who displays fear agression that has become physical in the past six months. Umbrae, on the other hand, is a well-adjusted dog. This is not surprising because he has been raised by us since he was a very young puppy. He is not part of the problem at all, and may even mitigate it to some extent.



Now, as if a switch has been thrown in Lily's brain, her threatening behavior towards other dogs, which was always present to some degree, has become outright attacks on other dogs and threats toward people. And because she and Shayna are in the same household, they have begun an transaction in which Lily threatens and then attacks--and her agitation ramps up very, very quickly. In response to three attacks with injuries, Shayna's reactivity has increased, but that also increases the chances of another attack. If we keep both dogs in the same household and do nothing the attacks will certainly worsen in ferocity and the resulting injury over time. And threats towards people will most likely become attacks on people, something that we cannot allow.

The question thus becomes what to do. "What are your goals?" asked Dr. Nichol.

Our first response was to say that we wanted peace in the house, that we want the fighting to stop. When pressed by Dr. Nichol, we expressed that we wished to rehabilitate Lily if possible, and to bring Shayna to a point where she is less reactive and more obedient towards others in the household. (She obeys me, but if I am around she ignores commands from others).


Given these goals, Dr.Nichol discussed with us two broad actions, the second of which has two possible directions.


1) Keep both dogs in the household, treat both with anti-anxiety medication, and institute a program of behavior modification for both of them. (Umbrae would continue with his therapy dog training, as he is not part of the problem anyway).


Prognosis: We may see limited success for a period of months or even years. But we can never trust Lily with strangers or with other dogs--even our own, and the likelihood of another, and more severe attack months or even a few years down the line is high. Bottom line is that we could spend thousands upon thousands of dollars, and completely change our behavior and we still will have to be very vigilant toward Lily for the rest of her life with us.

2) Remove one dog from the household, and treat the other dog.

Here, it was clear from the beginning of our discussion that the dog we were all considering removing is Lily. She is the one with aggression problems, and they pre-date Shayna's advent in the household. As I noticed that this was the subtext of the conversation, I interrupted the conversation. "If Lily is removed from the equation," I asked, "Do we have a better chance rehabilitating Shayna?"

"Definitely," came the reply. Shayna does not have problems with agression. Any aggressive looking response she gives Lily is defensive in nature. However, these attacks will eventually make the behavior more entrenched, so a decision should be reached before we end up with two aggressive dogs. Although treating Shayna's fear and anxiety, which was present prior to any interactions with Lily, will not be a walk in the park, a combined approach of medication and behavior modification has a good chance of succeeding.


We discussed two possibilities regarding removing Lily from the household: re-homing her and euthanasia. Separately, both the Engineering Geek and I had answered on the questionnaire that we had thought about euthanasia. Bruce also indicated that he had thought about re-homing. My response to the re-homing question was a little different. I had written that I had thought about it, but was reluctant to pass on a dangerous dog to others.

According to Dr. Nichol, rehoming isn't really an option for Lily at this point. First, he pointed out, she does have issues with aggression and they are persistent and entrenched. Even if we managed to find a new home for Lily, having been direct about the problems, and even sharing with the new owners the report for Dr. Nichol and getting them to sign a waiver of liability in blood, they could still come back and sue us later should Lily injure someone. Further, part of the genesis of Lily's problem is already that we are at least her 3rd home. She probably had at least one home prior to being a stray, she was then a resident of the shelter, and then she came to us. By the time she came to us, she had made and broken attachments in at least two other places. Each such transition is hard on most dogs, and particularly hard on one that has fear-aggressive issues. "Frankly," Dr. Nichol said, "Your home is the last stop for both of these dogs." He was talking about Lily and Shayna.

So at this point, we stand on the cusp of a weighty decision. Rehoming Lily is off the table. So is doing nothing and hoping the problem will go away. Shayna cannot take more of this. So the decision is whether we ought to begin treatment of both dogs with anti-anxiety medications, along with behavior modification supervised by a trainer, or whether we ought to euthanize Lily and treat Shayna. Certainly this issue has financial considerations attached. It is also a highly emotional decision that cannot be taken lightly, and that despite the emotional cost, must be decided rationally and thoughtfully, taking into consideration the impacts on every member of the family and upon the household as a whole.

And making such a decision is going to take some time. How do we deal with the dogs in the meantime? There are more questions than answers at the moment. We (the humans) of Ragamuffin House have to each make a choice of our own, and come to terms with it, and then we have to talk it out, reaching a choice as a family. We must take into consideration the needs of all the non-talking residents--Lily, Shayna, and Umbrae--who are involved in the dynamics that have gone so terribly wrong, and who are impacted by our decision. In the process, we will undoubtedly wrestle with the mistakes that we have made with these dogs, as well as the problems that we were dealt unknowingly, and the sense of failure that humans feel when no choice has a happy ending.

It is hard enough to consider and make the choice for euthanasia when a dog is old and ill. To contemplate putting a dog down before end of life decisions would ordinarily be made is harder.

What a Long, Strange Monday it Was . . .

Talk about a bad Monday . . .

Yesterday, I started my 15 minutes a day 12 step writing regime, and I even have a sponsor.
I had already had a conversation with the family about mom needing to finish her graduate school career. At 50, it's getting ridiculous! And that means starting the dissertation. Because 90% of dissertations that are not finished were never started.

And yesterday I did several hours of housework in order to get some order back after First Day Rosh Hashannah (no work done), Second Day Rosh Hashannah (no work done), followed immediately by Saturday--an all-day seminar (no work done). I was feeling proud of myself after I put in my 15 minutes of writing that expanded to 30, followed by phone calls and getting a necessary form filled out for the Catron County Assessor--for the Ranch!!!--and a trip to the Albuquerque Uptown Borders store to purchase Strunk and White. (That's The Elements of Style, and oldie but goodie!)

I was feeling on top of things. I was doing my life pretty well indeed.
Or so I thought . . .

I picked up the Rasta Jew from Cross Country practice at about 6, and when we pulled up, I asked him to bring the dogs in. Shayna was already inside, but Lily and Umbrae were in the dog run.

Now usually, the Rasta Jew waits a while before bringing them in. He generally needs to inhabit his room alone for a while, and reassure himself that he is part of his space. So, looking forward to sitting down to read a book about a city girl turned farmer, I went about putting away some clothes in the closet. And was suddenly surrounded by two very excited, wild and crazy dogs. (I usually make them all sit in the dog run before I open the gate, and again at the door before I let them in. I do this to avoid what happened next. And when Lily jumped up on the bed, I ordered her down. And she jumped straight over the footboard and right onto Shayna.

We had a repeat of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly in my bedroom.
Except that the Rasta Jew had to dry fire his pellet rifle next to Lily's head to break her away from Shayna. So it was a Monday evening trip to the Vet Urgent Care with Shayna, who had multiple abraisions and wounds on her left foreleg and chest. She was more serverely injured than I thought by looking at her.
Over three hundred dollars later, I was ready to take Lily in for immediate euthanasia.
Rehoming her seems irresponsible since I'd just be passing the problem on to someone else. . .

The Urgent Care Vet gave us the name of an animal behaviorist, and the Engineering Rancher Geek, who had initially said we should euthanize Lily today, spent 45 minutes on the phone with one of the researchers. I filled out a very long questionnaire, as did the ERG. To see this person will be quite expensive, but that expense includes a full medical evaluation and lab tests. If this leads to a definitive answer that either something can be done or it cannot, it could give us peace with whatever decision we make.

In the meantime, upon return from the vet last night, a groggy Shayna went into her crate and has refused to come out in nearly 24 hours. I cannot give her the antibiotics--the priciest item on the estimate for her care--but I think if I can just entice her to eat one of the liver-flavored pain tablets, she will come out and eat, drink and take the antibiotics. And take a short, halting walk outside . . . this is the longest Shayna-on-strike we've had since we brought her home.

Whatever hard choices we make in the next few days, for sure we cannot let this happen to poor Shayna again.

Oy. I don't like Mondays. At least, not Mondays like this!

Dogs: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

I haven't blogged on family life for a while--there has been so much going on around here that was hard to sort through what to blog and what should never see the light of day. I have been meaning to blog about the dogs for a while, but it was to be about the good, the good and the good. Until Sunday evening . . .





But I want to start with the GOOD:
Umbrae is now just over seven months old, and the vet thinks he's a Newfie/Husky cross based on size and some other characteristics. We know the mom, but not the dad, so . . . could be.

Umbrae has passed his Puppy Kindergarten and his Intermediate training courses with flying colors. He is very attentive to us when we are working with him, and so we just began a 16 week Advanced class that teaches the skills he needs to test and be certified by Therapy Dog International.

Because he is already bigger than both of our other dogs, and he is going to be bigger still, we have decided that the more training the better--and if he is a certified Therapy Dog--we can take him to lots of places. Since he is so smart and so willing (and as the Engineering Geek says--"so treat motivated"), this is becoming fun for us as well as for him.

At home, he is our happy-go-lucky Baby Huey, and he now obligingly fetches the newspaper from the top of the driveway for us.



The BAD (or at least the misbehaving): As Umbrae has grown up, Lily has grudgingly accepted him, but for some reason in the past few weeks a new rivalry has begun between Lily and Shayna, and Lily has been the agressor. I had noticed that Lily has begun to encroach on my territory as well.
It all culminated Sunday night when I went to bed early and fell asleep. Apparently, Lily got up on the bed with me, and when the EG moved her off later, Shayna was standing beside the bed. Lily went for her and cornered her. She did not go for the throat, so the trainer is pretty certain she was not going for the kill, but it still meant another trip to the vet, and another round with the trainer. Lily has been the only dog who is not crated. We got Shayna a crate last year when I noticed that she crawled under the rocker to sleep, and she uses it frequently. We started Umbrae on crate training right away and it has kept him calm and happy. So yesterday I finally got Lily a crate, expecting she'd be unhappy, but she took to it pretty well last night.




The UGLY: Poor Shayna, she was standing by the bed and maybe there was a look exchanged, and I was awakened by the serious growling of a dog fight, and the Engineering Geek breaking it up. Although it lasted no more than a minute, Shayna ended up with a gouge in her back. She hid in her crate that night, so I found the bleeding wound yesterday morning.

She came home from the vet with two shaved spots, five staples, and a desire to stay in her crate. Last night she did not want to come out at all, but this morning thirst and bribery got her to come out for a walk and to get her meds. She's now lying on the floor by my chair, but still she's quiet and more submissive than usual.

Yesterday I had a good discussion with the vet about Lily. Although she had a routine shot update in February, we are going to take her in for a full physical to make sure there is not an organic basis for her irritibility. It could be as simply as allergies. We also talked about structuring her days more carefully, and the use of a crate. Although Lily is not supposed to be on the bed, she was, and both the vet and trainer think this fight started as a dominance move on her part. But there has also been a lot of stress around here for a variety of reasons, and Lily is a reactive dog. So we have been told that renewing structure and routine, asserting our leadership equally over all three dogs, and crating Lily are all likely to make Lily and Shayna feel more secure and prevent further badness and ugliness.

From the start, Lily has taken on the function of showing me where my dog skills are wanting, and when our routines have been upset and need resetting. She's been the most challenging dog I've ever had. And yet we have become better dog owners one step at a time as we have dealt with her. She is getting older and has become calmer, she doesn't like strangers, but she no longer fears them, and now in her middle years, we have to keep her feeling safe and secure by providing structure for her. She is our household barometer.

And that's the good, the bad and the ugly dog story for the quarter.

Umbre Joins the Pack

I know, I know, I should be writing a summary of a largely successful Continental Congress 2009 for you all, but . . .


. . . when someone walks into the house for Thanksgiving Dinner and hands you a little black ball of canine that promptly snuggles up on your chest and falls asleep, well . . . thoughts about even something as important as the restoration of the Constitution go to the back of the mind.



Umbre explores the sitting room.






Umbre makes the rug his own.








Shayna tries to figure out who this little interloper is and why he fits on the Engineering Geek's lap.













Tired out from his adventures, Umbre naps under the polishing bench.










Now we have three dogs just in time for a mountain winter when we will experience those three dog nights.

It's A Dog's Life!

NEARLY WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

I had plans for this entry. I did.

I went to the Tea Party Express Rally at Haines Park in Rio Rancho yesterday.

I even took the camera.

But I left the battery in the charger.

Oops.

But last weekend, we had three dogs in residence, because the grand-dog came to visit.

Watching them--no worries!--I wondered who's smarter? Us or the dogs?

Shayna in her "office" noticing that I am getting ready to take a picture.

After a while, the front leg

emerges. I don't see it,

I don't hear it.

But now its there.

"Alright, if you're going to keep snapping those pictures, I'll continue my nap somewhere else!"

Lily thinks her daddy's shoe is the perfect pillow.

"As long as I lay here, Daddy won't be able to get up."

"Nap over, and it's time to check the perimeter.

Alert, alert! There's something up there.

Right there! Can't you smell it?"

What Lily saw.
This was worth watching for nearly 40 minutes.


Dogs understand mindfulness.

Ruby, the grand-dog, posing in the kitchen.

"Must you take my picture?"

Attention from Grandpa EG is

worth a play bow!

See what I mean?

We go to work to earn their daily

kibble. So who's smarter?

Happy Wednesday!

Shayna Moves In

NEARLY WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

Addendum: I had this set to post yesterday, or so I thought . . .

But Academic Crunch Time has the ability to turn even the most straightforward operation into something more sinister.

Two months have passed since we brought Shayna home from the Albuquerque Animal Shelter.

She is still shy, and when someone comes to the house she runs to the master bedroom; but she can't contain herself.
She peers around corner, and whines, as if an invisible force field is keeping her from coming out.












She is still shy when there are loud kitchen noises. She has a mannerism by which she shows deference and submission. She will come up to the Pack Leader present, turn her head sideways, and place her paw on the nearest presentable body part. Although it is usually someone's thigh, her it is the Engineering Geeks hand.


We found out a little more about our Shy Shayna Sunshine. When we had our first 9-12 book club meeting a few weeks ago, one of the members, a dog person extraordinaire, said she had seen Shayna hanging around Highway 14 North two times, three weeks apart. One was in a snowstorm. L. thought she had been dumped, and was hanging around awaiting the b*****d who did it. L. said she had looked for her several times, and even dreamed about her, but did not see her again.

The last time L. saw her--in the snowstorm, was a few days before the records show that Shayna was brought to the East Side Shelter.




Now that Shayna has a home, and is becoming positively comfortable, all of that is past.

And since the very late spring started last week, which seems to have morphed quickly into early summer, she has been shedding that winter coat she grew while living outside last winter.

She even allowed me to groom her. You can see the tufts and tufts of hair.

After I groomed her for 30 minutes with the loop, Shayna was positively happy!

I have been vacuuming up hair by the bucketful, several times a week. There will be more.

I remember promising myself before Zoey died that I would not get another white dog. I can't wear black, you see.

But that was before I saw Shayna's beautiful face at the Shelter website.

Oh, well. Light colors are happier anyway!

Just like Miss Shayna Sunshine her own self!

. . . And now that the post is finally up, it's back to writing about the two theories of visual perception in ASD. Wish me end-of-the-semester luck.

Shy Shayna

Since the day we brought her home, we have been learning who the new member of our pack is. She is shy Shayna, and in the first days she appeared afraid of her own shadow.

As I sat at the table eating, she'd park herself right behind my chair. As I'd move about the house, I had a silent, ghostly shadow following closely. On walks, she cringed at the open sky, and under the trees, and when startled, she tried to climb up me, clinging to my thigh.

There were occasional glimpses of the dog we believe Shy Shayna will become. On her third evening with us, she stole an entire piece of chicken from the table and inhaled it before we could call her name.

But this was dog who is so quiet that we hardly know where she is in the house. Along with her pink collar (the EG's choice), she wears a worried look much of the time, and a look of sadness and uncertainty.

We know she was found on North 14. We can only surmise what happened to her. She sits on command, is house broken (except when frightened by Lily's rambunctious energy), and she walks at the heel and does not pull on the leash.

But she's afraid of the coffee grinder, and the vacuum cleaner sends her running for the safety of the room she shares with me and the Engineering Geek. She wants to be with us, but she'll creep out to check on us, and a sudden move, a hand above her head will make her cringe and whimper.

When horseplay between the Chem Geek Princess and the Boychick sent her panicked into a corner behind the rocker (apparently she'd never seen an adult woman on the back of a teenaged boy), we got her a crate. Sans door, it makes a wonderful place of safety for Shy Shayna to retreat to when it all gets to be too much.

Our cardinal rule is that we never violate her sacred space in the crate, and she has begun to relax there. Last week, she began to realize that she could "go" in the meadow. During the past weekend's snowstorm, we learned that she likes to play in the snow.

She enjoys brisk walks in the meadow, and after watching Lily a few times, she has learned to jump the chain across the new road. Lily has also shown her the joys of sniffing and snuffing at the rodent holes in the meadow, and she has learned what a treat is for. She eats like there is no tomorrow.

It is still one step forward, two steps back, one and one-half steps forward again, but Shy Shayna is coming out of herself bit by bit. She's as beautiful as her name implies, and she still moves silently as a ghost through the house.

And she doesn't quite know what to do with a ball or a rawhide bone.

I guess she'll always be wary of strangers, but she is no longer wary of us.

We've made a good beginning.

Welcoming Shayna

Shayna Sunshine

Maybe it's too soon. At least, it is according to all of the experts.

New dogs come into your life in the most interesting way.

Zoey, my first dog with my kids, came via a neighbor girl who was visiting a Pet Adoption event to get a cat the day that someone abandoned Zoey there. The girl came home with a dog rather than a cat, but her family already had five dogs, so they gave her 24 hours to find a home. We we walking in Sneed Park in Rio Rancho, talking about getting a dog; the girl was walking Zoey in the park and came up and said, "Do you want this dog?"

Lily came because someone had Pet Harbor send me her Shelter listing. I got the listing every day for two weeks, before I decided that it must be fate, and went down to see her. I took the family (big mistake) and came home with the adoption papers but sans dog. She needed to be spayed, and it was Easter weekend, something that I had completely missed. I was cognizant of the fact that it was March Madness, though. The kids say she's a Lily because of the white lily on the back of her neck. I think the Lilies in all the stores were subliminally in their minds!

Shayna came as a Pet Harbor picture e-mailed to me by a friend who thought she looked like a dog for us. She was listed as a Dalmation mix, but it looks to me like she has more Lab than Dalmation in her.

On Friday afternoon, I went down the ABQ Eastside Shelter to see her. I went through the buildings looking for her, and saw any number of really nice dogs, and I thought that maybe she had been adopted. And that this was probably good. It had only been a few days, after all. But before I left, I stopped at the desk and asked about her number. No one had assigned her a name. It turned out that she had been sequestered, so a staff member met me and took me to see her. She is very quiet and very shy. She is also beautiful. I was not sure about her temperment, so I called the Chem Geek Princess and asked her to stop by and see her that evening after work. The CGP is nothing if not forthright:

"Okay, I will, but Mom, you know what the experts say. It's only been since Tuesday and now you want a dog that looks like Zoey. I think it's too soon."

As I was waiting to drop the Boychick off for a Scout camping weekend, the CGP called again. She couldn't find the dog. I talked her through to the place, and she was able to see her. "Oh, Mom, she's beautiful. And she's different than Zoey. She seems pretty shy, though."

In our pre-Shabbat bath, though, the EG expressed interest in seeing her, and then yesterday morning, the CGP called to arrange to go with us. When we first saw her that morning, she seemed to recognize the CGP and I, but she was really shy about getting close to the gate. Then a Vet Tech came up and said, "Sorry, but you guys can't be in here."

I mentioned that the dog was released to be adopted on 2/16, and she said (actually, the area was loud with barking dogs, so this was a shouted conversation), "This dog is being treated and will not be released for three days. Why don't you go to the front desk?" I apologized for being in a restricted area and we followed her advice.

At the front desk, they said that the dog was finishing up meds for kennel cough and was released for adoption. The helpful clerk called back to the veterinary office to find out for us what was going on. We were invited to visit with the dog at the Vet center, and we were able to take her outside and walk her in that area, closely supervised by a volunteer. The Engineering Geek walked her, and she kept stopping and hugging his leg, nervous at the wide openess of being outside. The EG said, "Honey, I think she is scared of her own shadow." But at the end of the walk, she was on heel, and refused to leave the EG's side. For his part, the EG was already calling her "Sunshine."

Back in the Vet Center, we had a serious conversation about whether we should take this girl home. Dr. K., the Vet on duty explained that kennel cough is like a cold for dogs, and that in the outside world, it is seldom treated. "It will run its course in 7-10 days whether we treat it or not," she said. "But shelter dogs are so stressed, and come to us traumatized, malnourished and sometimes abused, so we treat it. It is contagious to other dogs, and there is a small chance that your dog at home will get it."

The Engineering Geek asked if we could pick her up after the three day hold.

The Vet explained that it was not a three day hold, just that they had decided to continue her meds for three more days, and keep her sequestered. However, she said, "We only have 10 open kennels right now, and very few spaces in isolation, so we cannot hold and treat her if you adopt her today."

The EG was undecided, although he clearly thought we should have this dog. But he also did not want to put Lily at risk. I broke the stalemate by suggesting that we call our vet in Tijeras about it. I explained the situation to the receptionist there, and she talked to the vet. "Dr. C. says that you should not worry," she told me. "Lily is strong and healthy, and the chances are very small that she will get ill because the new dog has already been on meds for seven days. And if she does, it is like a cold in humans. We can easily treat it, but it will run its course with no problems." I, in turn, relayed the information to the EG and CGP, and then we were on our way back up to the front.

"Let's go get the shayna maidleh ( Yiddish: beautiful girl)," said the EG. We had previously talked about names. The CGP was partial to Bellah, and the EG had been calling her Sunshine. I was not particularly partial to either.

"That's her name," I replied. "She's a Shayna, a Shayna Sunshine."

And that's how Shayna joined our pack.

It's probably too early.

But she's here now. The experts will just have to deal with it.

And you, gentle reader, must deal with one more post about dogs!

Mourning and Thanksgiving

I want to begin my thanking all of you who sent condolences for our family's loss.
They are more comforting and helpful than you may realize, and I am grateful to all of you!

Zoey died peacefully on my lap under the cottonwood trees in the garden of the animal hospital in Tijeras. Her pain is ended, and we knew when her body relaxed that we had done the right thing.

On Monday, she had a difficult day and that evening, I had to hand feed her and force the pain meds on her. Tuesday morning, I called the vet and made the appointment for that afternoon. The Boychick stayed home from school and the Chem Geek Princess came up mid-morning to spend time with Zoey. When the Engineering Geek came home at noon, we took her for the longest walk she'd had in the month. She perked up out in the meadow, sniffing at the rodent holes, and lifting her nose to the breeze. Then she rested on the front porch, where the Engineering Geek fed her a whole Hershey Milk Chocolate Bar.

You see, Zoey loved chocolate. And after we were married in 2002, she once stole a very large Hershey Bar from the dresser. Bruce discovered it, called the vet, and spent several worried hours with her. She did not get sick. Her liver function was fine until the day she died. But we learned to keep chocolate away from our girl. So Tuesday, during the last hour of her life, she got a whole chocolate bar to herself. And I must say, it was the only thing she had shown interest in eating in a long time.

The trip to the vet was unreal, short as it was. When we walked in the door, I broke down, and the EG had to handle the paperwork and arrangements. He was the one who asked if we could take Zoey outside to the garden, where she would not be nervous about any medical procedures. She died with all of us around her, talking to her, telling her what a good life we'd had with her and what a good dog she was.
When it was all over, and she lay still on my lap, I felt a great sense of peace about it all. We had done what we could for her medically, but it was clearly time for her to go the Happy Hunting Grounds. Zoey, I hope there are rabbits there that can be caught, just for you!

In the past few days, our house has felt very empty. Zoey was a big, big presence. Bigger than we had realized while she was with us. Poor Lily wakes up each morning, and goes looking for her, and she waits by the door, puzzled at night. But she is gradually taking her place as the dog in the family.

On Wednesday, I cried as I washed out Zoey's food container, picked up her dishes, and her placemat. I put out food for the birds, so that they could carry the message of Zoey's death into the forest and the sky.

But we do a lot of smiling through our tears, as we remember Zoey and count the blessings of her life with us. She was a confident dog, a princess and a queen. She loved chocolate and standing out in the driveway, just out of reach, looking for all the world as if she were saying, "No, I don't want to come closer just now, but you are allowed to come pet me." She raised our two cats, and she taught Lily how to be a dog in a human world. She loved us, plain and simple, and greeted us with a happy dance every time we came in the door. She followed me around the house, and I am told that when I left, she'd stand at the window looking sad for a while. She was always at the window again, upon my return.

So we are sad, we feel the empty spaces in our hearts, and yet we are thankful for the true love and loyalty that Zoey gave us, every day that she lived with us. Zoey came to us by serendipity, under cottonwood trees in a park in January 2000, on a warm, sunny winter's day. And she left us in a garden under the cottonwood trees, on a warm, sunny winter's day. And every day of her life with us, she taught us to rise in the morning asking the Eternal to make us the people that she, our dog, thought we were.

Now, she is gone, but her legacy lives, and already friends are looking for another dog, one that needs a home, one that could benefit from what Zoey taught us about the bonds between a dog and her humans.

When Winter Comes Without a Spring . . .

NEARLY WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

Zoey

Winter 1997 - Winter 2009

"I sit beside the fire and think

of how the world will be,

when winter comes without a spring

that I shall ever see. . ."

--J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

A Few Good Days: A Zoey Update

Since Wednesday, Zoey has had a few good days.
On Thursday morning, I took Lily to the local vet for her shots, and when I came home, Zoey actually got up and hobbled out to greet us.
She not only ate the treat the vet sent home for her, but then proceeded to wolf down a half-can of chicken chunks in broth, courtesy of Nutro.

On Friday, just before Shabbat, the Vetinary Surgeon from the emergency hospital called to discuss the reports from the CT scan by the radiologist and that of the pathologist on the biopsy. The radiologist report stated that they did not think the cancer was actually in the ribs, but certainly went between them, and that the tumor is very big, meaning that although surgery can be attempted, the surgeon is unlikely to resect the whole tumor and that clean 3 centimeter margins are not possible. In fact, it is possible that the in an attempt to get as much as possible, the chest cavity would be breached, requiring more days in hospital and a chest tube and increased risk of infection.

The pathologist report agreed with the best hypothesis of the on-site oncologist: this is most likely hemangiosarcoma, less likely a soft-tissue sarcoma (it is not acting like one) and least likely an atypical bone cancer. The prognosis with surgery and chemotherapy (since they would be unable to get clean margins), is an average survival time of six months to a year, and in Zoey's case the smaller number is the more likely because of it being a Stage 3 (very malignant and fast growing) cancer.

The surgeon laid out three options:

• surgery with chemotherapy (we'd be facing this again in about six months)
• make her comfortable with pain management (prognosis of two weeks to a month in her best clinical judgement)
• euthanasia

We told her that we are leaning towards the second option, knowing full well that at the end of that road is the third option, but that we would contact her on Monday with any other questions and a decision.

As we sat in our pre-Shabbat bath, we discussed some more, and reluctantly concluded that we cannot put Zoey through risky surgery only to face this again in six months. We also concluded that we would not go through multiple regimes of pain medications. She came home from the hospital on three meds, which had given her two good days. When they cease to be effective, it will be time to put Zoey down, hard as that will be.

Shabbat dinner Friday night was a roast, with mashed potatoes and gravy. One of the Engineering Geek's express wishes was that Zoey should come put her muzzle in his lap, asking for a treat. And she obliged him. (I tell you that she can read your mind. Or at least smell the beef!) She hobbled out and ate quite a lot of the juicy bits, complete with Challah dipped in the clear gravy.

On Shabbat morning, the Chem Geek Princess brought the Granddog Ruby out, and the Engineering Geek and the Boychick took Ruby and Lily for a walk as part of our scheme to socialize Ruby to Lily (both are nervous about other dogs, unlike our beautiful Zoey).

Zoey was so upset that she could not hobble fast enought to go that I brought her outside to sit with me on the porch while I prayed the morning service. Here is Zoey smiling in the warm sunshine.
Our porch faces southeast, and so the morning sun is reflected off of the stucco wall of the house, warming the porch nicely, even on cold days. Yesterday was a warm day for February and the porch was quite toasty-warm. It felt good for both man and canine!



Later, when her people and other dogs came home, Zoey got positively motivated, spending a few minutes watching Ruby jump over the low door-garden wall, and then she decided to dig up a chew she had buried on some long ago summer's day.

Here she is digging, a favorite pasttime that has been absent during the last six weeks.
We watched with a bittersweet sense of impending loss; the digging was a sweet reminder of better days, but Zoey's poor shorn body, the grapefruit-size of the tumor, the trembling left leg, and the arched, painful way she holds her back, all reminded us that this normal Zoey behavior was a temporary respite from the weary toll of her illness.

And indeed, last night, worn out from the days adventures with Lily and the Granddog, Zoey had to be hand-fed, she paced in pain a full hour before she was due for her evening meds, she could not settle.

She did sleep, finally, at the foot of our bed, where she seems to find comfort in our nearness when she awakens in the night. She got up twice for two painful trips outside, and then to the kitchen for a drink (she refuses to take food and water from anywhere else).

This morning, she had great difficulty getting up. When we got up, she took over the center of the bed for a few minutes--another fleeting reminder of the Zoey normal--but today she has slept and slept, although she did eat some yogurt for breakfast, and some dogfood with cheese for an afternoon snack.

Today was at best a mediocre day. And the tumor is growing still.

Although I cannot imagine our house without my Zoey, I do confess that I looked at the pictures of adoptable dogs from the local shelters on-line. But I kept thinking that this one or that one had ears like Zoey's, and that this one or that one would do well with Zoey as a mentor.

And then I'd remember. Zoey won't be there when we add another dog to the family. And then I cry. And Lily, that needy love-hound, would come up and lick my tears as I sat, stroking Zoey's velvet soft fur.

Sarcoma: A Zoey Update

After two weeks of frustratingly inconclusive biopsy results,

the doggie oncologist at the emergency vet service we have been using did a biopsy under anesthetic just before they did some imaging studies of Zoey's tumor and lungs.

The CT scan was recommended because the surgeon was not sure from the X-rays whether or not the tumor has twisted around nerves, or involved the ribs or infiltrated the chest wall.

So yesterday morning, we all sat on the floor of a small exam room at the animal hospital, the surgeon, the doggie oncologist, the original vet who had examined Zoey three weeks ago, the oncology/imaging tech, the Engineering Geek and me, with Zoey dozing half-on, half-off my lap.

The best outcome would be if the tumor was a (benign) lipoma, they said. But unfortunately, Zoey's tumor was not acting like one. It was growing fast, having doubled in size since the first exam, and it was growing in stair-step fashion, like a malignant tumor does: growing like mad until it outgrows the blood supply, then stabilizing while more capillaries are made, then growing like mad again. The problem of knowing what the tumor is, the surgeon opined, was secondary to knowing whether or not it was resectable (surgically removable). The oncology guy wanted to do a biopsy under anesthesia, should we consent to imaging.

We did.

The issue was this. We wanted the tumor removed, but we didn't want to put Zoey through it if ribs were involved, or if there were any complicating factors.

I can't imagine consenting to the removal of several ribs from an old dog.

And if the tumor was malignant--well, that would bring a new set of considerations.

I also did not want to wait on another biopsy. We needed to get some information.

Yesterday afternoon, the surgeon called. The oncologist had examined the cells himself. He was pretty certain that the previous inconclusive results were due to muscle that was over the tumor. And he identified the tumor as a hemangiosarcoma, an agressive cancer that is often not discovered or identified until it has metastasized. Although this cancer is found more often in canines than in any other species, it is still relatively rare, accounting for 7% of malignant tumors in dogs. It is known as the silent cancer, because the tumors are often not noticable until onset of very rapid growth. In Zoey's case, it has not metastasized, but the CT scan showed that two or three ribs are likely involved. If surgery is done, and if the tumor is resectable with wide, clean margins, then the chances of recurrence are 40% within 6 months to a year. However, I just read that there is some promising research involving tyrosine kinase inhibitors as part of chemotherapy. But that is rather academic in Zoey's case, unfortunately, because first we have to know if the tumor is resectable.

The surgeon e-mailed the CT images to a board certified vetinary radiologist for a second opinion, but as I said above, her own impression of the images is not promising. We are waiting for word from the radiologist, which is likely to come tomorrow.

Realistically, though, I believe we are looking at a maximum of two months survival with no treatment except palliative care.

Right now, Zoey is home, with three different medications to help with the pain. And it has been helping. She ate twice today, and has shown periods of curiousity and liveliness that have been missing altogether in the past two weeks. However, I am noticing bouts of panting, and she is sleeping a great deal as the tumor robs her of her energy. And her mobility is severely compromised by the location of the tumor under her front left leg. I know that as time goes on, there will be more bad days and fewer good ones, until Zoey's number of days is fulfilled.

We are preparing ourselves to say good-bye to our dear Zoey. Today, when I took Lily to our local vet for her shots, I spoke with her about what would happen when the time comes to put her down. They will do it at the local clinic, in an old house under a cottonwood near Tijeras Creek. We will bury Zoey's ashes here, at home, in her beloved mountains.

Zoey has been my dog from the moment the neighbor girl brought her over, saying that she had been abandoned at a pet adoption. She has followed me around the house and supervised my outdoor work. She has slept at my feet or next to my side of the bed for the past nine years. When the time comes, there is going to be an awful hole in my world, and in the family.

I have cleared my schedule of all but the most essential tasks, so that I can spend as much time as possible with Zoey hobbling at my side, or sleeping nearby while I write.

So once again, we wait. Bowing to the inevitable circle of life, we count every precious moment we have left with her as a blessing.

As the Boychick said, through racking sobs last night, "When you get a dog, you know this day will come. But knowing it doesn't make it any easier."

A Visit from the Granddog

NEARLY WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

Lately, the Chem Geek Princess has been bringing our granddog, Ruby, over the get acquainted with Zoey and develop social skills with Lily.

The CGP and Princess Ruby pull up in style,
with Ruby looking out the window in anticipation of adventures in the mountains.

She is a good car rider, and enjoys letting her ears flow in the breeze.

OOPS!

This place is new and exciting,

and Ruby was so excited that

she got tangled in her leash on

the front porch. Before anyone

could help her, she got it figured out!

Getting to know Zoey.
Here, the CGP very seriously introduced
Ruby to her adopted grandma dog, Zoey.

She met some other new relatives, and neighbors, too!

Relaxing on the rug with Zoey, under Grandpa

Engineering Geek's watchful eye.

Zoey seemed a little put out, but later

settled down to sleep without further ado.

Lily, on the other hand, was briefly introduced,

but Ruby stared and growled.

Not a promising start.

We have some more work to do!

With grandma on the porch, just before it was time to get into the car and go back to Albuquerque and the Chem Geek Princess's little house.

Ruby had a fine day and ate not only her lunch, but Lily and Zoey's as well!








It's a joy to see the fun and enthusiasm of a puppy!