Showing posts with label my pets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my pets. Show all posts

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Adopting Emily


This is the story of how I adopted my dog Emily several years ago. I am intentionally leaving out the name of the shelter where I adopted her because this was my one and only dealing with this shelter and may not have been typical. Since they didn't kill a dog or anything even close, I want to give them the benefit of the doubt.

When I was looking for a little dog, I had been laid off from my job and was having no luck in finding a new one. Billy and I agreed we would visit area shelters until we found a good match (sometimes I went alone since he was at work). The first dog we found was at my favorite no kill shelter, the Animal Protection League. The lady who introduced us to the little white female mixed breed was up front about some major medical issues the dog was dealing with which I really appreciated. We left saying we'd get back to her about the dog. I went home and began researching online. Ultimately, we decided against taking on a dog with these issues since there was the possibility, as with any dog, that the future held more, unknown medical problems and after all, I was out of work. I didn't think we could commit to the necessary veterinary expenses for this dog. We let the shelter know and they were very nice about it. I still remember that dog and think of her and how I had left lipstick on her white head.

The second dog I picked out was at a kill shelter. When I told the receptionist which dog I had chosen, she said that dog was on a potential hold for someone else. She said she'd call me and let me know if the adopter decided to take the dog. She did call me eventually, but by that time I had adopted Emily. I still remember that dog and wonder what happened to him.

I was searching online for shelters when I came across the website which led me to Emily. Although I didn't see her listed on the shelter's site, they did list a very reasonable adoption fee of $75 which included neuter, vaccines and heartworm testing. In addition, the site indicated that some dogs who had been at the shelter for a long time were half-price! I was definitely excited about that. I didn't know if I would find a dog there or if I did, whether that dog would be one of the half-price ones, but I figured I'd give it a whirl.

When I arived at the shelter, I went to the front desk and my eye was immediately drawn to an x-pen full of little dogs behind the desk. I'm sure my face lit up but the receptionist must have seen the gleam in my eye and told me immediately that all of those dogs were adopted. I remember wondering why a shelter would keep a bunch of already adopted dogs in an x-pen behind the counter. It seems like if they were the staff's personal pets, she would have just said that but I don't know. At any rate, after I explained I was looking for a small dog, she thought of one that was available and asked someone to bring her out to me. That was Emily.

I spent a long getting-to-know-you time in their spacious lobby area with Emily, most of which she spent having a nap on my lap. While I was there, a lady came in with her kid to redeem her lost Dachshund. The receptionist refused to return the dog to the owner without spaying her first. The owner eventually broke down in tears and the small child was obviously upset. I didn't like any of that and I got a bad feeling.

I called Billy to tell him about Emily and he agreed we should adopt her. I was given an application form and the receptionist asked me questions about how I took care of my other dogs which made me feel better. That's when she dropped the bomb: No, Emily was not a half-price dog, she wasn't even regular price - her adoption fee was double! For the second time that visit, the receptionist accurately read my facial expression without me even saying a word. I was shocked. I admit it would have been great to pay a reduced fee but I had gone in there willing to pay the regular, full fee if necessary. But double? WTF? She explained that they charge more for little dogs. For reals. Needless to say, had they disclosed this on the website, I may have decided not to go there or if I did, at least I would have been prepared. I felt they had lured me in to the shelter by promising me I could adopt a dog for $35 or $75 and then when I got there, jacked up the price to $150. Do. Not. Like.

Before the deal fell through though, the receptionist unleashed her most excellent salesman tactics. First she offered to take payments - $50 a month on my credit card that I would leave on file with them. Then to seal the deal, she appealed to my independent ego. Noticing that I had called Billy earlier, she asked, "Do you need to call someone to see if paying the fee is ok?". Oh hell no, I don't need to call anyone! I am a strong independent woman who makes my own decisions and takes responsibility for my own finances! I demand that you take my credit card immediately and put through the first payment!

Yeah, she got me. But in the end, we got Emily. So I can't really feel too bad about the whole thing. But honestly, I highly doubt I'll ever go back there to adopt another pet nor have I ever recommended the place to anyone. So I have to wonder if it was really worth it to them to get the extra $75 out of me when all was said and done. As I said in the beginning of this post, maybe this isn't the way they typically do business. But the incident with the Dachshund owner combined with my own experience just left a bad taste in my mouth.

By the way, the shelter ended up trying to charge my card an extra time after the fee was paid off. I complained to the bank who asked them for proof of authorization. They didn't provide a response and so the bank credited me the extra $50 charge. Not the capper to this story I wanted.

Do you have any experiences - positive or negative - to share about adopting from a shelter or rescue? I'd like to hear them.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

When to Euthanize

This is a subject that is a part of every pet owner's life - how to handle a pet's last days.

My first dog I ever had to put to sleep was terminal with cancer. I asked my then Vet more than once, "How will I know when it's time?" and she always answered, "You'll just know". This was not at all helpful to me. When I did make the decision, I questioned myself right up to the emergency clinic.

I realize now that for me, this is normal. It is no small thing to end the life of a pet, even when you are doing it as a kindness to relieve suffering. Questioning my own judgment is not a bad thing.

Likewise, it is normal for me to look back and wonder if I made the decision at the right time. The only thing I refuse to dwell upon is "If I'd known then what I know now, the dog could have lived longer". I didn't know then what I know now just as I will (hopefully) know more in future. It's not fair to judge my past decisions on when to euthanize against a standard of knowledge I did not possess at the time. I won't beat myself up like that.

To get into some specifics, the dogs I've had to put to sleep have been Flatcoats. They have all been happy dogs who enjoy companionship but more than anything - food. I wish I could flatter myself by saying they valued my company more than life itself but that would be a lie. (Side note: I once took a nursing dam to the emergency Vet because she refused a meal. That's how much my Flatcoats have loved food. Turns out, she had mastitis.) So one factor that has been useful for me in deciding when to euthanize is whether the dog can be enticed to eat. When we reach the point that food is consistently refused, I know that dog is miserable.

I have never been of the mind to go for extensive treatment when a pet is terminal or simply old. Even if I won the lottery tomorrow, I don't think that would change. My pets are like most people's I would imagine - they don't like going to the Vet and definitely wouldn't like staying there for days. I can relate. I am a homebody and being at home gives me a sense of peacefulness and comfort. I think age increases the attachment to home and routines. I've been able to keep my pets at home until the final Vet visit was needed. I tend to think that would be their choice too, if they could be The Decider.

This is in no way meant to disparage owners who choose extraordinary measures and hospitalizations. Nor do I look down upon those who opt for a natural death, allowing the pet to starve himself or whatever the circumstances may be. We must each make the decision that is right for our situation and with our pet's best interests in mind. Aside from something extreme (e.g. a pet who has been badly mangled by a car and the Vet gives little hope for survival even if the owner opts for heroic measures), I don't think there are "wrong" end of life decisions for ailing pets. The best we can do is the best we can do.

One of the many things I've learned from my pets is to live in, and cherish, the moment. For me it's question=yes, regret=no.

What has been helpful to you in deciding when the time is right to euthanize a pet?

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Old Dog Vestibular Syndrome

Emily was an adult dog of undetermined age when we adopted her from a local shelter. She was old enough to have so much build-up on her teeth that a canine fell out when I gave her a turkey neck but no one seemed to be able to assign her an age. She is some sort of Chihuahua mix with a terrier coat. Over the years, she's had a few "episodes" (possibly seizures) which leave her disoriented and shaking for a few minutes after but then she seems to recover fully. She had one such episode last week during dinner (they always seem to occur when she's eating). Since they only happen once every year or two and she is healthy in other respects, I've never pursued the issue with my Vet.

This week she was eating dinner in a room by herself (I separated her from the group dinner after her episode last week to make sure she had a quiet, private area without a bunch of big dogs stalking her food bowl) so I didn't see if she had another episode but after dinner, she had a head tilt and difficulty with her balance. I took her to my Vet the next day and she was diagnosed with "Old Dog Vestibular Syndrome". The Vet thinks the head tilt and the seizure type episodes are unrelated. An x-ray of Emily's skull revealed no abnormalities but her blood work showed she was dehydrated. The other abnormalities on the blood work didn't overly concern the Vet since they could be a result of the dehydration. The Vet suggested we hold the water bowl up to her to get her to drink. I had noticed at home that she was having a hard time drinking. Although we've been following the Vet's suggestion, Emily refuses to drink when assistance is offered. That's just her personality. She is very willful and independent and - how shall I say - actively discourages any help from us. We tried a syringe of water but she just growled and bit the syringe. So I've been adding water to her food and I'm hoping she might drink something while no one is home.

We've been giving her meclizine at the Vet's suggestion (I take this myself for vertigo) but I haven't noticed it helping. Her head tilt is worse this morning and in fact when I let her out to potty at 5 a.m., she didn't come back so I had to go out and look for her. I found her spinning in circles. The Vet says we just have to ride it out and as long as Emily doesn't get too dehydrated, she doesn't have to be hospitalized. We're crossing our paws.

Emily is the first dog I've had that has gone through typical old dog problems like hearing loss and decreased vision. My previous old dogs have all been Flatcoats and typically cancer kills them before they get very old. Provided we get through this, I wonder what Senior Adventure Experience awaits us next.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

South Carolina Snowpocalypse!

Most years, we don't see snow. In fact this is the first snow my two youngest dogs, Linus and Patty, have ever seen - and they will be 4 next month. We all had a lot of fun in the white stuff today so please indulge me in a buncha dogsinsnow pix:


Linus


Graham


Patty & Charlie patrol the fence for all things abominable


Charlie


Charlie managed to find a tennis ball, natch.


Randi


Patty

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Dignateh: i haz it



This is our Pot Bellied Beagle, Graham. She'll be 10 next month. There is no spot in this house that you have to walk more than 4 paces before running into one of her dog beds. None of our other dogs have dog beds. How did she manage this?

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Dinner at Chez Dog

Yesterday I did some marathon dog food making (just a couple batches but I have a lot of dogs and I'm only a short distance runner) and wanted to share:



The first batch was a non-meat menu so I used a rice/squash/spinach base and added some chopped hard-boiled eggs and cottage cheese. I stirred in olive oil in the process.



For the second batch I used the same base and then did one of my classic "Hmm, what's in the back of the cupboard?" menus: Can of low salt wild rice & chicken soup, leftover chicken broth from the fridge, can of sardines in tomato sauce, two cans of chunk chicken breast and a can of Brandon Farms chicken.

And while I was dl'ing these pics from the camera, I found one Billy had snapped of Linus. He likes to roll in things (Linus I mean), and this one happens to be publishable:



Linus does not get along with other male dogs so we are hoping to find a single dog (or all girl) home for him. Besides rolling in things and fighting with other males, he also whines and barks. Contact me if interested! (He actually is a very good dog, maybe I shoulda said that first?)

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Emily's Cancer Returns

My little dog Emily is of unknown age but presumably "old". She had some tumors removed from her mammary chain in 2007 and recently a couple more have appeared. We took her to the Vet today and her blood work and chest x-ray looked pretty good. She has a heart murmur (Grade 2 or 3 of 6) but otherwise ready for surgery next month to get these latest lumps removed.

We had her blood glucose checked on suspicion of diabetes as she seems to be so hot all the time lately, drinking lots of water and urinating often. But that was normal, so that's good. I'm guessing that perhaps because she is now almost completely deaf, she is generally more anxious, causing her body temperature to increase, which causes her to drink more water and in turn, urinate more frequently. I noticed she is now scared of thunderstorms, which didn't used to bother her, and I attribute that to the hearing loss as well.

At any rate, she's still full of piss and vinegar and I always say about her, "Hate keeps you young".

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Randi - I Love Her!


Randi with one of the Beagle's toys. For
whatever reason, the big dogs seem to covet
the little dogs' toys. They snatch them any
chance they get.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Dinner at Chez Dog

Billy cooked up some ground turkey for the dogs last night and put it in the fridge. This afternoon, I tossed some leftover veggies (carrots, radicchio and broccoli) in the food processor and cooked some rice. Since the turkey was cold, I put it in the bottom of the dog bowl. Then added the warm rice and spooned the grated veggies on top. So it looked like this:


Then I mixed everything up so all the food would be room temperature (see how s-m-r-t I am?). It looked like this:


The humans got to eat too and of course the dogs got leftover salmon and risotto afterward:



Graham got a PB jar for dessert:



Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Friday, November 21, 2008

Don't It Make My Black Coat Blue?


I notice in the Fall and Winter, certain light makes the black dogs look almost blue in photos. OK yeah, just an excuse for me to show off a couple of my pesty pets: Randi, age 6 and Patty, age 2.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Personal Pet Post: Just Because I Love Her


I don't post about my pets very often but just wanted to share this photo of my too-adorable-to-be-as-disobedient-as-she-is Beagle. Graham turns 9 years old next month and I can honestly say - despite all the trash she's "redistributed" for me on the floor, and how many times she's unmade the bed, and all the lizards and turtles she's tormented (and I won't even get into the coming-when-called thing) - it's been 9 years of pure joy. I love her!

*wag, wag*