Chipper is my success story.
He’s become almost immune to the sound of fireworks.
Last year he slept at my feet through the grand finale, less than a mile away. I remember sitting in front of the computer with a 20-inch box fan set at high speed to make my upstairs office more comfortable in the heat. Sure, the sound of the fan helped dim the sound a bit, but not by much.
“Come Buddy,” I motioned my arm for my sister’s deaf twelve year-old cocker spaniel to approach me as I sat on the kitchen floor, toothbrush in hand. He patiently sat in front of me while I inserted his new toothbrush into his mouth. He had just moved in with me since my sister didn’t think he would survive the four-day drive to California where she was re-locating.
I turned my head away as he exhaled a rotten egg smell. His yellow and black teeth suffered from years of neglect. I only hoped I could reduce his bad breath by starting a daily brushing routine. His foul breath prevented me from giving him many hugs and pets he needed at this time of transition so late in his life.
The weeds, the dandelions─yuck. Should I spray an herbicide? But what about my dogs? How can I do this safely? So I usually put it off until the weeds get the better of me and I just have to spray them and try to keep my dogs off of the lawn for a day, or at least try. Most herbicides state, ‘safe’ for pets after it has dried. But are they? Here is what my research uncovered:
A Dachshund in a wheelchair on the book cover grabbed at my heart. About fifteen years ago, I too had owned a dog that needed a wheel chair due to osteosarcoma, a fast-growing bone cancer.
Was the author’s experience similar to mine? How did she deal with the constraints of a wheel chair? I had to find out.
It’s raining and you are walking your dog downtown. Suddenly he yelps then collapses. Puzzled you grab your dog—then you feel a burst of electricity run through you. You too could get shocked, collapse and possibly die from electrocution from contact voltage.
What is contact voltage?
Cassie tripped as she walked on the driveway, caught herself and kept walking toward me. How many times had this happened today? At least ten, or was it closer to twenty? I watched her walk, awkwardly curving to the left. My vet thought she had arthritis in opposite legs, causing her to trip and walk abnormally. A week later, she couldn’t walk and was diagnosed with a brain tumor. We had to put her down less than a week later as her condition deteriorated.
Ataxia or abnormal gait, takes many different forms, most of which are neurological, although there could be joint issues such as arthritis.
I yanked hard at Chipper’s leash as he grabbed a mouthful of something. “Drop it,” I commanded as he tried to swallow the big solid piece. Grabbing his collar, I put my gloved hand into his mouth and pulled it out–something sausage-like, dark brown and smelly. You guessed it a poopsicle—a frozen dog turd.
You look out the window of your back door through the crust of ice forming around the edges. It’s snowing, blowing hard, and well below freezing outside, but you need to walk your dog. Some people just open the door and tell them to ‘go potty’. Not me. If they have to suffer, so do I. I also want to make sure they cleaned themselves out.
So how can you make your best friend enjoy the winter more? Layering—the same as for us. My rule of thumb is as follows:
“A cocker,” I exclaimed, as I looked out the car window at the neighboring car during a traffic jam. My boyfriend slammed his foot on the brakes, thinking my outburst signaled impending danger as we passed through Hubbard’s Cave in downtown Chicago. That was his inauguration into my world of dogs, especially cocker and springer spaniels. At that time I was living without a dog, alone in an apartment and in desperate need of a dog.
