Archive for June, 2008

Kate Moss Never Looked This Good

June 22, 2008

Okay, finally, I’m posting a photo. Here’s my canine version of a super model at about a year old.  She’s an attractive beast, one that could potentially model. But don’t we all think our dogs could model? The dog could have mange, no teeth and a steady drip falling from its eye and still, no matter, ours is the one that should be on that Purina bag.

But maybe, just maybe, in a perfect world we’re right–all of us. Because in a perfect world we would worship age and imperfection just as much as we do their opposites.

 

In Session. With Dog.

June 18, 2008

Given my “situation” one of the requirements when picking out a pup was to try and get one of the mellower ones. This to me seems nearly redundant or perhaps a double dose of mellow since when these Greyhounds get to be adults they’re nearly comatose. Today, predictably, at a year old, Stella’s more like a sixty pound cat than a dog.

I figured though that if fate and Llewis were in cahoots to land a pup and a mellow one into my life, I’d do the Aikido thing and go with the flow. And what better way to leverage a super mellow, “don’t hate me because I’m beautiful” creature than to do a little therapy. A little pet therapy.

The plan is this: Stella’s gonna be the therapist. And I’m the person holding the leash and cashing the checks.

Unfortunately, however, it’s all volunteer so no $150 for 50 minutes. Damn!

Seriously, it’s about giving people who are very sick some good fur time. We’ll be working with patients in hospice settings as well as working in some more acute care areas within hospitals. Stella also does great with kids so maybe a children’s setting will be in her future too.

The hoops we’ve both jumped through so far, me and the hound, have been vigorous. But for good reason. You need reliably calm, well mannered dogs to do this work. We passed the Canine Good Citizen test . We did a two hour evaluation session with the leaders of the therapy group: they poked, prodded, clanked around and did nearly everything to rattle the prospective therapy dog (Stella was rattle free–thankfully.)

I’ve also had to observe someone doing pet therapy at a hospital. And next, I will be observed–twice. Rigorous stuff. Lots to jam into a life getting more jammed by the minute.

Anyhoo, soon pet therapy will begin. And as much as I’d love to post more, as much as I’d love to go on and one about pet therapy, as much as I’d love to post a picture since I’ve not done so in months…I’m afraid that our fifty minutes are up.

Stella’s Got Her Groove Back

June 3, 2008

Stella woke this morning completely limp free. 

My friend Sari said that Sundance, the Sacrificial Pit Bull, and most other pit bulls are so stoic that they’ll take a bullet for their owner and keep on going. Stella wouldn’t take a sliver for me. What’s the opposite of stoic?  Sensitive, emotional and demonstative?

The challenge now will be to still rest her–to make sure whatever it was is healed and to keep the house from being destroyed.

Stay tuned…

Stella’s Got Her Limp On

June 2, 2008

Finally, I stop poisoning the dog and life seems pretty good–at least for the next 72 hours.

But last night, when we came back from a party, she emerged from her crate with something new: a limp.  She was 100% when I put her in and out she comes, a few hours later, gimpy.

Today–same thing. Limping.

I take her into the cheapo vets–the “clinic” and they say she’s sprained her carpus (wrist) and it’s likely she twisted it in the crate.

This dog is fine to run like a maniac on cliffs but decides to twist up in her crate. The best laid plans, as they say…

This means no exercise for two weeks–nada. Only a brief jaunt to close some deals and that’s IT. I don’t know who this is going to be harder on–her, me or P.

 

 

 

 

Doggie Munchausen Syndrome (AKA I’m Poisoning My Dog)

June 1, 2008

So I write this whole post about Stella’s aloof behavior. And yes, she can be aloof. But really, I think this may have been influenced by the fact that I’ve been poisoning her for the past couple of weeks.

Not intentionally of course. But Id’ been giving her fish oil to help with her coat and her nails and, well, if three squirts (the recommended dose) are good, aren’t six better? And ten even better than that?

As Stella lapped up the oil, each day she became more aloof. I was stumped.  First you cry. Then you blog. And then you go to the cheap clinic ($14 to chat with a vet) to see if this all might not be in her head–and mine.

“She’s just not herself. I mean she’s not a licky dog, she’s no Lab, but she seems depressed” I told the vet.

The vet checked her head to toe, stuck a thermom up her butt, listened to her heart and declared her in perfect health. “Anything new you’re feeding her?”

I told her of the fish oil.

Turns out some dogs can get gastritis–very painful. And Greyhounds in particular can have a very hard time with too much oil and fat. Little did I know I was on my way to killing Stella in search of a better coat and nails. The price we pay for beauty.

One week later, no fish oil at all, and she’s back to her old/young self. 

Lesson learned: more is not better–in fact, even any at all may not be.