Murphy's Law strikes again!
Yup, it's been a while since my last entry. I plead a hectic few months and offer apologies. Let's see, where to start ...
I'll skip most of the gory details and go with what screwed up last weekend. We have the most wonderful dog in the world. Yeah, I know. Everyone thinks that. They should. Dogs are great. They give you their hearts, no questions asked, and love without reservations. That said, we have the best dog ever. He's a german sheperd, weighs in at about 106 pounds and is 10 years old. A year ago, he was a solid 120 pounds. This is what age does for ya.
Anyway, the old man had a major health concern last week that led to an emergency trip to the clinic and major surgery. Now, I'm a vet. I've been watching my old guy slow down (physically anyway. He's still a pup at heart, but his body just cannot keep up). Seeing some changes, I've known that that awful day is coming sooner rather than later. But this was a major change in his condition, out of the blue and it hit me square across the face. I fell apart.
Strange. I've had pets all my life, lost other dogs and cats. This one just hits me in a spot that none of the others has. I have a 5 year old daughter and younger daughter that is almost 3. They love the big dog with all of their little hearts. And he loves them. He lays in the middle of their play area and serenely goes along with whatever their little hearts desire of him. Lay down and go to sleep as they cover his whole huge body with about 10 dolly blankets? No problem, happy to do it. Listen as the little one babbles a story to him out of book after book? Love to. Share afternoon tea and cakes from their plastic tea set? Great. Honestly, he's happy just to be with them, for the petting that comes with being tripped over and stumbled around. He's arthritic and I know that at times, their love hurts (although I have never let them abuse him, like by sitting on him or pulling his ears and tail). Let's face it, 'gentle' has a different meaning for a 5 or 3 year old than it does for us. On the rare occasion, I've heard a whimper if someone was overly exuberant. But that's where it stops for him. He'd never dream of retaliation. These are his babies, you see, and he'd lay down his life to protect them, I am convinced of that. From day one, he has been infatuated with them and I laid each of them right on the floor for his inspection. When they lay on blankets, too young to crawl or even roll over, he would park himself right at the edge of their blanket, always keeping a watchful eye. I wanted him to know from the start they they are his and he was happy to accept them.
Then, there's the fact that he spent years going everywhere with me before we had kids. He still follows myself and my husband from room to room, just to be near us. Never mind that it's much more of an effort to get up and down lately. How many burglars have been scared away by his big face in the window of my front door. Everyone takes a few steps back when I open it and they see him. I've never worried about someone forcing their way inside once they see him. Plus, he's such a good boy. He never developed the habit of charging the door when the bell rings, barking like he wants to eat whomever is on the other side. The big man has always stood quietly at my side, studying the person that backed away slowly as they tried to explain why I need saving, or to buy some meat, or whatever. If it is friends at the door, his big tail wags and the greeting is much warmer, a thorugh sniffing of their entire body and a quiet insistance for his own pat on the head from them. I've always loved his calm demeanor.
We've never walked him down the street without someone stopping to ask if he is a police dog. He hangs out in his front yard and was long ago trianed not to leave the boundries of it. Nevertheless, countless peoiple have spotted him lying quietly beside us or walking about the grass and crossed to the opposite side of the road to pass our house. German sheperds get a bad rap as a breed. So many people don't train or socialize them properly and as a result, many bite and are overly aggressive with strangers. My big guy has never offered to bite anyone, but he's never been given a reason to. I've no doubt that if one of his family were threatened, he would do some serious damage in our defense. He was a joy to train and has rarely needed reprimand. What makes him happiest is making us happy and getting attention from us. What more could any of us ask of our dogs?
So, we had a big scare this weekend, and a certain amount of deliberation over his surgery. He required major abdominal surgery, of a sort that I do not have the expertise for as a general practitioner. There would be a certain amount of cost associated with it, but that was not so much my concern. I questioned whether it was fair to put him through the surgery and recovery. But looking into his trusting gaze and knowing his love for us, I felt that he deserved the chance. His recovery has gone pretty smoothly. I had promised myself that if it was rough, if I thought at any time that he was in too much pain, then I would end it. We were lucky. He's doing well, recovering quickly and home and happy. We've had a reprieve and I am so grateful to have him around for a bit longer. We are treasuring every day.
If you have a dog, big or small, go give them a hug now. Believe me, you will make their day with that one small act and our time with them is way too short.
I'll skip most of the gory details and go with what screwed up last weekend. We have the most wonderful dog in the world. Yeah, I know. Everyone thinks that. They should. Dogs are great. They give you their hearts, no questions asked, and love without reservations. That said, we have the best dog ever. He's a german sheperd, weighs in at about 106 pounds and is 10 years old. A year ago, he was a solid 120 pounds. This is what age does for ya.
Anyway, the old man had a major health concern last week that led to an emergency trip to the clinic and major surgery. Now, I'm a vet. I've been watching my old guy slow down (physically anyway. He's still a pup at heart, but his body just cannot keep up). Seeing some changes, I've known that that awful day is coming sooner rather than later. But this was a major change in his condition, out of the blue and it hit me square across the face. I fell apart.
Strange. I've had pets all my life, lost other dogs and cats. This one just hits me in a spot that none of the others has. I have a 5 year old daughter and younger daughter that is almost 3. They love the big dog with all of their little hearts. And he loves them. He lays in the middle of their play area and serenely goes along with whatever their little hearts desire of him. Lay down and go to sleep as they cover his whole huge body with about 10 dolly blankets? No problem, happy to do it. Listen as the little one babbles a story to him out of book after book? Love to. Share afternoon tea and cakes from their plastic tea set? Great. Honestly, he's happy just to be with them, for the petting that comes with being tripped over and stumbled around. He's arthritic and I know that at times, their love hurts (although I have never let them abuse him, like by sitting on him or pulling his ears and tail). Let's face it, 'gentle' has a different meaning for a 5 or 3 year old than it does for us. On the rare occasion, I've heard a whimper if someone was overly exuberant. But that's where it stops for him. He'd never dream of retaliation. These are his babies, you see, and he'd lay down his life to protect them, I am convinced of that. From day one, he has been infatuated with them and I laid each of them right on the floor for his inspection. When they lay on blankets, too young to crawl or even roll over, he would park himself right at the edge of their blanket, always keeping a watchful eye. I wanted him to know from the start they they are his and he was happy to accept them.
Then, there's the fact that he spent years going everywhere with me before we had kids. He still follows myself and my husband from room to room, just to be near us. Never mind that it's much more of an effort to get up and down lately. How many burglars have been scared away by his big face in the window of my front door. Everyone takes a few steps back when I open it and they see him. I've never worried about someone forcing their way inside once they see him. Plus, he's such a good boy. He never developed the habit of charging the door when the bell rings, barking like he wants to eat whomever is on the other side. The big man has always stood quietly at my side, studying the person that backed away slowly as they tried to explain why I need saving, or to buy some meat, or whatever. If it is friends at the door, his big tail wags and the greeting is much warmer, a thorugh sniffing of their entire body and a quiet insistance for his own pat on the head from them. I've always loved his calm demeanor.
We've never walked him down the street without someone stopping to ask if he is a police dog. He hangs out in his front yard and was long ago trianed not to leave the boundries of it. Nevertheless, countless peoiple have spotted him lying quietly beside us or walking about the grass and crossed to the opposite side of the road to pass our house. German sheperds get a bad rap as a breed. So many people don't train or socialize them properly and as a result, many bite and are overly aggressive with strangers. My big guy has never offered to bite anyone, but he's never been given a reason to. I've no doubt that if one of his family were threatened, he would do some serious damage in our defense. He was a joy to train and has rarely needed reprimand. What makes him happiest is making us happy and getting attention from us. What more could any of us ask of our dogs?
So, we had a big scare this weekend, and a certain amount of deliberation over his surgery. He required major abdominal surgery, of a sort that I do not have the expertise for as a general practitioner. There would be a certain amount of cost associated with it, but that was not so much my concern. I questioned whether it was fair to put him through the surgery and recovery. But looking into his trusting gaze and knowing his love for us, I felt that he deserved the chance. His recovery has gone pretty smoothly. I had promised myself that if it was rough, if I thought at any time that he was in too much pain, then I would end it. We were lucky. He's doing well, recovering quickly and home and happy. We've had a reprieve and I am so grateful to have him around for a bit longer. We are treasuring every day.
If you have a dog, big or small, go give them a hug now. Believe me, you will make their day with that one small act and our time with them is way too short.