Someone Appreciates Spring Weather!

Can you believe she'll be 13 in May?

Worldless Wednesday

Yes, yes. Lots of changes and excitement. Mm hm.

Impatience

Happy Saturday! I hope you're having a great day. According to the weather reports, I am likely experiencing a gorgeous sunshiney day of temps that are pleasantly mild for the end of January.

I can't tell you if that's actually true or not, since I'm writing this on Friday night. Remember, I had something to do on Saturday, something pretty important.

Watch this space!

We’re participating in this Saturday’s Pet Blog Hop, hosted by Life With Dogs, Two Little Cavaliers and Confessions of the Plume.  If you’d like to participate, please follow the rules and follow your three hosts, add your blog to the Linky and copy and paste the html code into your html editor.  Thanks again to our hosts for putting on the hop!
This is a Blog Hop!

Wednesday Morning

Her dad, all dressed in his work clothes, jingles Lanie's collar. He brandishes her coat. He calls to her and makes silly squeaky noises.

"Lanie! Come on! You MUST need to pee! Time for walkies! Potty? Hello?"

"*snore*"

More jingling and waving, but Lanie does not stir. Dad decides he will eat breakfast first and drag the old girl out later.

He opens the fridge.

Lanie appears. She is simply instantly there. And she won't be moving until she gets something out of the fridge, thanks. And weren't you EVER going to walk her? Where is her coat?! Boy, you humans can be slow...

Winsome Wednesday

Heh. Whoops.

Nothing to see here. Everything is fine. Move along.

I'm having the weirdest anxiety right now.

Everything is in place. We're ready! I just need to call the kennel and make an appointment...

I didn't do it Friday. I panicked. I'm too nervous. This means too much to me.

I swear, I'm going to do it Monday. I will kick my long-standing habit of being terrified of happiness. I promise. I just hope I don't embarrass myself and start crying.

 On the chance that you are here looking for non-crazy news, I have rather officially committed myself to attending Greyhounds in Gettysburg again this year. I'm excited to see some of my favorite people, including the fantastic ladies I travel with. Will you be there?

Good-bye, 2011...

... I hated you.

I've been trying to motivate myself to write a blog post for almost six weeks. I wanted to give some sign that all was well, that I'm alive and fine and engaged. Probably the biggest problem is that hasn't been true. I've been depressed and over-extended, distracted by the holidays and disconnected from how I really feel.

Lanie is amazing. She'll be 13 in May and for the most part she's still energetic and insane. We've noticed lately she's getting quite a bit grayer on her chest and forelegs, the whole front end of her elegantly fading as befits a lady of her esteemed age. She has also, without doubt, become much more cuddly.

Just this morning she woke up early, peed on the living room rug, and then came and curled up between us in bed.

We agree that a new brother will be a good thing for her. Sure, she'll spend a while pooping in furious protest at the loss of attention and competition for resources. That's reasonable. She's entitled to let us know how she feels. Anyway, she only goes in one spot on the rug, so we keep that covered with plastic under a towel for easy clean-up.

A lot of my "dog friends" spoke to me, in the early days after I lost my Drive, about how the need for a new dog was intense and immediate. It doesn't happen with people, does it? I certainly don't want a new mother or new grandparents. But when I had to say good-bye to my Drive, the only thing I could think of to make any sense out of the world again was to put my arms around another dog.

What was best for me wasn't best for us as a family. That was harder than I can say, and I know that contributed to the depression I've been wrapped in for weeks. This was the first time in years that I've been in that terrible dark place and not had my Drive to whisper to. It spiraled quickly.

I want to stop this spiral. I want off. I want a new dog. I want to meet the friend that's waiting. I'm so very ready.

And I'm here to let you know that I'm alive. This year has to be better. And coming sometime in January I hope to be able to introduce you to the newest member of our family. Soon, soon!

I hope 2012 bring amazing things for you, my friends. I wish you all the best.

 

Ready for Fall

Good News and Dismay

The good news first: there is absolutely nothing wrong with Lanie's heart. She is, in fact, absurdly healthy.

The dismay: I'm looking for a new vet, after seven years. I'm uncomfortable with change and averse to trying new things, but I can't overlook how unhappy I am about a few things. My plan is to get Lanie's dental taken care of soon, but to start looking around for a greyhound-savvy vet. It'll be a little complicated, since we're in a semi-rural area and vets are exactly thick on the ground in the first place, but I don't mind driving a bit if I have to. There is an emergency hospital nearby for the unthinkables that might take place at odd hours.

When my Drive had his dental last spring (April or May, I can't remember), the same thing happened to him that happened with Lanie. They called in the morning to say that his EKG was a little "off" and they wanted to take an x-ray of his heart. We had just lost our Bullie, not two or three days before, so I was already a mess, and they scared me. The x-rays came back "inconclusive." The vet painted terrible, dire pictures for me and, terrified, I told them to go ahead and do the ultrasound. Of course his heart was perfect.

To recap, I brought Lanie in for her dental last week, got the "questionable" EKG results, had the "inconclusive" x-rays done... And refused to okay the ultrasound. I am not made of money, people. I may have mentioned that. If I'd thought for a moment that Lanie had any problem whatsoever, it wouldn't have been about money, but all I could think was, "Didn't I just do this?"

You know why the x-rays show a heart that is borderline enlarged? Because greyhounds have large hearts. I learned, after repeated phone calls and persistence, that the EKG results were "off" because no one told the EKG analysts they were dealing with a greyhound.

Once that fact was made clear they said, "Oh, well, that's all perfectly normal for a greyhound."

I am not a happy customer. In the end, what made the decision for me was an extra $19 on my bill. "What is this?" I asked, as I was already forking over $200 for the stupid x-rays that weren't even necessary. "I'm being charged $19 under boarding?"

"That's our policy. It's for cage use and technician time."

"She was here for four hours! Getting stupid x-rays!"

"It's just policy." (I will spare you the rant on how much I loathe it when people hide behind policies.)

"I've been coming here for seven years and I have never, ever been charged a boarding fee." (I even checked, because I keep all the vet information filed.)

"That was an oversight, I guess. It's policy."

So! If you happen to live near me and know a great greyhound-savvy vet, let me know.

Thank you so, so much for the support and thoughts and advice I asked for last week. I meant to reply much sooner but I was flattened by some weird viral thing and spent a few days in bed feeling sorry for myself. :)

It's Never Simple

Of course, Lanie's dental did not go off as planned.

The day before, I took her to the vet for a blood panel and an EKG. Her bloodwork came back perfect, but the EKG detect an abnormal beat or two over the space of 30 seconds. No big deal. The plan was to repeat the EKG with a longer duration in the morning.

The longer duration EKG was less than ideal. As seems standard with these things, the information is relayed over the phone to a company that specializes in interpreting it. They expressed concern over the results. Again, there was an abnormal beat or two; no clarification of what that actually means. They also said there were "indications" of an enlarged heart.

The vet working with me is trying to get more information from the EKG people, who insist that for a more in-depth analysis they will have to charge more. Meanwhile, an x-ray of Lanie's heart looks normal from the side and maybe, possibly "borderline" large from the top. Lungs are clear. She has no symptoms of any illness (other than the mental caseload she's always carried, obviously.)

So the vet recommends that we do an ultrasound of the heart to be extra-super-sure that Lanie does not have any enlargement issues.

If I were wealthy, this wouldn't be a problem. But I'm not. I'm really not. I checked. In fact, I checked right before I started writing this post and I'm still pretty not-wealthy. So I am left trying to decide if I want to give my dog a $300 ultrasound on a heart that might maybe be a little enlarged, so that we'll know that before she has dental surgery. Because she still needs her teeth cleaned and one of her canines probably needs to come out. That three hundred bucks is the money we have set aside for her dental.

She has no symptoms of anything. As far as anyone can tell, she's in perfect health and full of joyful, deranged energy. We're really unsure what we should do. Either way she's getting her teeth cleaned, but our choices are to get the ultrasound and put off her teeth until tax time, or get her teeth cleaned without an ultrasound and take our chances -- which we're doing anyway, given that Lanie is an elderly greyhound.

My favorite part of having this blog is reading the comments, especially when people share their own anecdotes. I don't think I've ever said that before. So I'm telling you now, I love the comments. I love the experiences, and I especially love the wisdom.

If you have any wisdom to offer here, I would love to hear it.

(Preemptively because I know some of you: Thank you deeply and sincerely but please don't construe this as a plea for financial aid. ;) )

My Only Dog

"I'll stop smacking you when you get it out of my face."

Lanie is not a fan of the camera. After all, it it not made of food and it does not squeak. All it does it flash in her eyes, eliciting a death glare that only ladies of a certain age can manage.

At age 12 and a half, her pointy little face is white and her eyes have clouded. She used to hunt frogs relentlessly, making walks in the spring and summer a constant challenge as she lunged and snapped at the hopping meat-snacks. This summer, we realized that she simply doesn't see well enough to do that any more.

It's harder to tell if her hearing has faded. I'm disposed to believe she just ignores me more, since if I think too loudly about opening the fridge she will materialize from the ether.

She is a grand, goofy old dame. She is a glorious mixture of bravado and insecurity, terrified of a slammed door but not thunder. Helium balloons are the devil to her, but she will snarl and lunge if we make the mistake of walking her by the neighborhood bull mastiff. I am her humble servant who exists to feed her, but when she is scared she shoves her head against my chest.

Since we lost my Drive, she's been the only dog in the house. Always a velcro girl, I've noticed the length of time she lets me out of her sight has decreased. She's less content lately to be within sight range and now feels the need to be within petting range whenever possible. She has absolutely become needier. I can understand. So have I.

The strangest difference is her sudden, avid interest in going for car rides. I think she just hates that I sometimes leave the house without her. She hates being alone, poor sweetie.

I'll address the issue of "When will she be getting company?" in a different post.

This evening Lanie goes to the vet for bloodwork and an EKG, so that tomorrow she can be safely anesthetized for a dental cleaning. (She won't be spending the night there.) She's in overall excellent health, especially for a senior dog, and her teeth are not the nightmare that some greyhounds' are, though she has broken a canine recently. She was probably checking to see if something was edible by biting it, like a great white shark.

I'm reminding myself of all the reasons I don't need to be worried, and I'm worrying anyway. I'll keep you updated.

And I think I'll take my dog out to lunch. She loves the drive-thru.

Words 2

Words 1

Roo Face

Drive has a squeaky, funny little bark. For a big male dog with so much chest cavity, I kind of expected more depth. More resonance. But no. He yips.

Lanie, on the other hand, has that gruff deep voice you'd expect. She talks all the time, like in the video I posted yesterday, usually variations on "Hurry up with that food, lady." She makes the greatest faces, so I talk back to her and keep up conversations with her. I would love to get in her doggy little brain and learn what she thinks she's telling me. Wouldn't that be awesome?

 

Cast of Characters

I have to warn you, this one is a little emotional.

I'm one of those people that "forges on" when things get difficult. I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to deal with my losses, I don't want a hug. When I need to talk about some ache that feels too big, I just want to put my arms around my dog and press my face into his fur.

I've lost dogs before. I got a little terrier mix from a shelter when I was 20, and I held her when I was about 30 as they put her to sleep. I lost one to a divorce, and found out later she was dropped at a shelter (rather than given back to me.) I lost the best companion off my childhood, a vicious Dobie-GSD-something-huge mix named Nibbles (not kidding) who passed away when I was in college.

And still, those were Before.

I've always liked dogs. What's not to like? They listen as if you're brilliant, they love everything you feed to them, they think you're a genius, they care when no one else does.

And then I met Drive. And just like that, dogs ascended in my view. I understood "dog people." I became one of them. There can never be another Drive, I know that, but never again in my life will I be without a dog. Actually, just the idea of having only one dog seems a little strange, but that's a matter of finance rather than preference for me. When I think of my future, of the "lifestyle" track I want to be on, there's dogs everywhere in my imagination. When I answer the question of a hypothetical lottery win, I get teary-eyed thinking of all the puppies! With a million dollars I could save so many puppies...

This new worldview has an unexpected bittersweet twist. I didn't just lose a pet a couple of months ago. I lost a person. I lost a living soul who took up a big space in my world and now, all these weeks later and after an emotional few days, it's hitting me how much I miss my Bullie.

I'm not even going to put his picture on this post; I linked to it up there with his good-bye post. Even looking at that makes me remember, I was holding him when he passed. I was looking into his eyes when the lights in them faded.

We go to McDonald's, and buy the $1 box of four chicken nuggets. I hand the extra one to my husband.

"What are you doing?"

"That's the extra one. You can eat it."

And about then, I remember that we only have two dogs. That they can just have two damned nuggets apiece and there's no extra anymore.

And then I think of Drive, who is 11. And Lanie, who is 12. And I take a breath and remind myself that I'm strong enough to love this much and then say goodbye.

Bullie was almost 9 when we (accidentally, I'm serious) adopted him. It was a few years for us, that's all. A couple years with an old stripey dog, followed by months of this heavy, pushing grief and a place for him in my heart forever.

It's worth it, because for Bulldozer, it was the rest of his life. He did not die a lonely and unloved dog in a shelter. He didn't spend his remaining time in a kennel waiting for someone to want an old, shy dog that didn't attach quickly or trust easily. He died held by arms that loved him. Someone wept for him, and still does. He died with toys. He died after a thousand wonderful meals and uncountable treats. The rest of his life was warm, loving, interesting, and full of delicious surprises.

It's worth it.

Problem Child

"I could be off hunting whatever tiny things live in those woods."

For every beauty shot I have of Drive, I have a few failures. He doesn't like to look at the camera. Lanie doesn't either, and she adds a level of difficulty: some angles make her look deranged. Her ears, her squinty eyes, her overbite, her "get offa my lawn" old-lady attitude... I try not to get offended when people (not greyhound people, of course) smile and ask so kindly, "Oh, what's wrong with your poor dog?"

Eyes: almost the same size!

Her habit of squinting whenever she's outdoors is so pronounced that every so often I look it up under "canine symptoms" to see if she's got a problem or if she's just narcoleptic. Even in the shade, she looks like a vampire with a hangover if she's deemed it "too bright."

(And while I thank you in advance for the advice that will surely come, she's not the sort of dog that tolerates things wearing things very well so we won't be buying Doggles anytime soon. Or a hat, which is too bad because I think she'd totally rock a little bonnet or fascinator. Something in teal or fuchsia. She does enjoy PJs in the winter.)

Might be my new favorite picture EVER. Look at that.

Proof that she can be pretty, too!

You'll have to take my word for it. When she's curled up on my bed looking at me with deep, soulful brown eyes and a quivering chin, she's the most beautiful little girl there is. It's sometimes hard to get that captured in an image, though.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

I'm Not Even Embarrassed to Say...

That is best picture I have ever taken of a snot droplet. I'm very proud of myself.

Lanie's Treat

Did Lanie get a cheeseburger for her (belated) birthday present?

Yes.

Are there pictures?

Just one.