Meet Knucklehead

For at least two years, maybe three, I have been calling my dog Skye by her name and by the nickname of Skye Knucklehead or just plain old Knucklehead. I never realized how much she associated herself with that moniker. Well, there we were Wednesday, three weeks and a day ago as I type at this moment, walking through Spring Lake Park in Texarkana, TX when we walked past a stray at peace pooch lounging in the grass, apparently enjoying the warmth of a beautiful fully sunny day. That is he was at peace until he saw us when he began to toss several woofs at us along with a few growls. We walked on. About 20 minutes later while we headed back the same way, we came across him in the exact same spot. This time he barked, growled a bit and we walked over toward him. Suddenly he sat up and held his left paw limply above the grass. We got close enough to wish him good morning and he just kept barking but still sat in place paw held up. Skye got close and they greeted one another and he got up and the sniffing of arse ceremonies commenced betwixt them and lasted but brief interlude of a minute or so. I talked to him with what proved to be soothing effect and petted him a little. Then we walked on with my sincere apologies that I had to enjoin him not to join our small group. Of course, he did not understand a word I said and he followed us tail wagging. We had but a half to three quarters of a mile walk back to my vehicle in the dog park parking lot but he kept pace with us, not usually a difficult trek for what I figured to be a 4 to 6 month old puppy but that left front paw must have been hurting because he limped all the way to my Corolla. Well let me correct that - he limped all but the last 15 to 20 yards, then walked just fine. I surmised he either worked out a strain or pulled muscle during the walk or that he is one heck of a good thespian.

While walking, I figured I'd let him follow, get him a clean drink at one of the fountains in the dog park and feed him thinking I had a can of dog food in the Toyota. All went well except there was no dog food. He was so skinny, I felt pity and took a chance. I had him get in the car and drove him home. I could have left him in the dog park and called animal control to come get him but like a well meaning idiot I took him home. At home I fed him and allowed him more water. He ate like he had not eaten in at least a couple or even a few days. He drank as if he had a vortex in his throat that was sucking an ocean down to his stomach. I called animal control on the Texas side, I live across the border in AR. I told them I found him and brought him home to' the AR side. The guy asked me for my address and I told him I preferred not to give it at which point he snapped at me and said something very much like 'that's it for me I am hanging up' and it seemed the line went dead at which point I exclaimed "what an asshole" thinking he had hung upon me. Suddenly I heard him say "It takes one to know one" something a 5 year old might use for a reply. He then told me he needed my address because I had transported a dog across state lines and did so with vehemence and that bureaucratic bravado of a low level government employee who thinks he is in charge and has power. Wow, I thought, it he sounds so authoritative that transporting a dog across state lines must almost certainly be a sooper dooper felonious form of mopery in the first degree. I hung up.

I called the pound on the AR side and told them likewise when they asked for my address but at least the woman to whom I spoke told me they needed my address to come pick up the poor innocent & possibly abandoned mongrel. I told them I'd deliver it to them in 10 minutes and then the woman got that same quality in her voice as the guy from the TX side pound. She forbade me to bring it to them and said in sum & substance: 'YOU MUST FOLLOW PROTOCOL and protocol demanded they come to pick it up at my house. I said thanks and goodbye and hung up. Meanwhile somewhere in there Knucklehead peed and shit on my floor. Happy was I that I have all vinyl floors, no carpeting; unhappy was I that I had to clean it up. Later on I contacted a coupe of supposed no kill shelters, none got back to me. I also contacted the rescue where I got Skye back in 2019. The owner there told me she had 73 dogs at that moment and could take no more. She told me she could not get any volunteers to help her. When I said thank goodness that her husband helps her on his weekends when off from work, she said not anymore because they recently got divorced. Imagine the amount of work with the world of 73 dogs on your shoulders and your shoulders alone and I am guessing she is in her young seventies or at least mid sixties.

Of course, I also posted a notice online about a found puppy. I put it up on Paw Boost. A gal I know at the dog park also put it on a local lost & found for pets. It's been three weeks and a day plus 44 minutes , as I type, and no one has come forth to claim him. In the past three weeks he has been to the vet three times, first for a check-up and shots. Then two more vet visits because he has really loose or formed but very soft yellow stools up to five times a day and because this past weekend he started throwing up yellow fluid. he also has abdominal spasms on nights he does not puke. My vet said he is parasite free but I wonder. This morning he finally gave him some meds, three things: a de-wormer (but no metronidazol for protozoan parasites), a probiotic and something else for th vomiting. Today's visit was about $150, the other to about $200 for both not each. He eats almost exactly, if not somewhat more, than twice the amount of food as Skye and he has only gained about 3 pounds since I found him; Skye would have easily put on about 8 pounds in that time eating that much, maybe ten.

Lest I neglect to do so altogether, I should mention I named him Knucklehead. My first inclination was to call him Bozo but Knucklehead seemed to fit him perfectly. I admit, it has been confusing to Sky when I call him because she comes too. So much for using nicknames for a dog. She is coming round though to the realization that he is Knucklehead and she is plain old Skye again.

As it stands now, the major negative about Knucklehead is how much he pulls. he is very strong. He is about the same height as Skye, a bit longer but his legs are 1.25 to 1.5 times as thick as Skye's and taller than hers. He is a power house and I am guessing he will increase in weight from about 44 pounds to maybe 60 to 80 pounds. Big paws, thick & tall legs kind of, sort of, almost definitely indicate such growth is in store for him when an adult. He already has almost pulled me over several times now, I need to be really careful. Got a Gentle Leader muzzle which a few folks have told me works like a charm to get a dog to stop pulling. He wears it starting later this morning. If I can train him not to pull, he will make a grand pet. He barks and growls at people we walk by but if they come over or if he gets to them he just licks them. He tries to go after passing cars too as we walk. He is either being protective or is afraid of things or both. He is great with other dogs and people in the dog park. He also is very energetic which makes for lots of play fighting with the other dogs at the park. He is okay with young children but I use a lot of caution because kids are kids and big strong puppies are still excitable puppies and things can get out of hand quickly. My neighbor's three year old son was maybe about to get a playful bite the other day when they first met, but I restrained Knucklehead, next day he was much gentler with her three children. Older kids less of a concern, in fact my neighbors 9 year old daughter handles him like a pro, the five year old daughter is a bit afraid of him because he gets right in her face friendly but that will pass.

I was going to give him away thinking no way I could walk both dogs at once and with my bum hips, individual walks, meaning double the distance, for both are not happening. One guy from the dog park seemed like he'd take him but that fell through. No other interest as far as adopting him except from one other guy - you probably have guessed by now that guy is me. If I get him to stop pulling I will keep him; if not, I will keep looking for someone to adopt him. He is a good looking pooch, looks exactly like a Manchester Terrier and I mean exactly except for the fact he is two times the weight of a standard Manchester and even bigger than a toy Manchester.

This is Knucklehead:

This is a Manchester Terrier:

 

Back To Knucklehead:

 

 

Either I have a super sized Manchester or a mixed breed that looks exactly like one. Regardless of his breed(s), I love the new addition to the family. So does Skye; he and Skye get along great and much to my surprise it is like she has new found energy when she play fights with him. If I have to get rid of him, I think it would affect Skye badly. I hope I can get him over pulling because that will make him a keeper. 

 

Other than pulling he has few faults. He is about 95% house broken, usually barks to let me know he has to go. Oh yeah, one other kind of negative, if I keep him he is going to cost me for for two dogs when it comes to food now and when he gets bigger maybe will cost me for three or four dogs worth of dog food and he will double regular vet bills and other pet related costs. He is a glutton right now and is eating up my gun & ammo budget but that will likely change either naturally or by way of me implementing strict dietary restraint. That's all okay, I love him enough so that I'll buy a couple less guns a year and that my friends must be true love!

 

All the best,

Glenn B

Boy Gives Dog A Bone And Woman Pulls Her Pistol...

...and points it at him. As he runs away, she fires a warning shot. She gets arrested and treated like a criminal and I simply do not understand why on God's green earth she was charged and the kid will probably get off again.

Yes, there are some sarcastic puns in those previous sentences. Read the linked article and you will understand.

How I missed this news item, dated May 8th, while I was in AR is beyond me except maybe that while my son has a television he only has it hooked up to his computer to watch YouTube and Netflix; a subscription for cable was too expensive (welcome to the real world my son). I am sure he will get cable soon though now that he has a decent job. Anyway, I digress so let me just say again, read the linked article and be amazed and maybe disgusted. I think maybe, had it been another person instead of this particular woman, he might have been shot being it was the second time he gave the bone to the dog and giving the same bone twice to the same dog could be considered a shooting offense by some.

All the best,
Glenn B.

She's Gone...

...and that made it a tough and miserable day today because I did one of the most difficult things I have ever done, at least for me emotionally. But let me start at the beginning or at least where I came into it. Got a few text messages from my wife this morning, at about 0940, telling me that our Chihuahua, Lucy, was at the vet because our larger mixed breed, Roxie, had attacked her. The last text in those first four said "And then I need to go to the doctor". That got me very concerned and after several texts back and forth between my wife, daughter, son and I - I finally found out that Roxie had bitten my wife twice while my wife was trying to free Lucy from Roxie's grasp. As it turned out, once she got Lucy free and had bitten my wife, Roxie also tried to go after Mimi our other mutt. Roxie was our biggest dog, weighing in at about 95 pounds and weighing more than tripe that of Mimi and a lot more than any of our three Chihuahuas or my daughter and son-in-law's two Chihuahuas that were also at our house today.

I left work by 1025 and got home about 1215; thankfully my daughter as able to pick me up, at the train station, while on lunch from her job. When we got home, my wife was already there after seeing the doctor. Why she did not go to the ER is beyond me. Anyway, she suffered two puncture wounds. One on a calf and the other on an arm. She will be okay but she has developed a lot of pain in her right foot and leg. She pretty much had to dive onto Roxie and struggle with her to free Lucy and hit her right knee and apparently because of the pain she has now, her right foot pretty hard. Roxie bit her when she got Lucy away from her and right after that is when Roxie tried to attack Mimi. Mimi, having been attacked by Roxie before, was smart enough to skedaddle downstairs at high speed and my wife was then ale to calm Roxie.

You can see, from the furrows in Linda's brow, that she is pained,
both by her injuries and by our decision to put Roxie down. Linda
was in so much pain she could barely get down to give Roxie a last hug.

While at the vet for Lucy, the vet commented that as far as she knew, this was the third time Roxie has attacked like this within the last 5 years (Roxie was only 7, we had her since she was a few months old). My wife said yes it was and that it was the second time she had been bitten by Roxie. The vet recommended putting her down. My wife agreed and that was none to easy for her to do. She did not do it right then though because she had to get to the doctor and Roxie was locked in a bedroom at home.

As I said, when I got home, my wife was already there after seeing the doctor. We talked about our options and I had to agree that it would be best to have Roxie put down. She was a very lovable dog 99% of the time but became suddenly unpredictable for virtually no reason, and certainly for no good reason, and would attack like that. She bit Linda this time and a couple or few years ago in another similar event. Last time, Linda had a much worse set of puncture wounds in her hand and was lucky to not have had a vein, artery or tendon severed.

Anyway, we waited for Brendan (our son to get home). Before he got there, Linda called her brothers to see if they wanted to take Roxie after giving them a full rundown of what happened. She called because Brendan had asked us to do so but she also, on her own accord and at my urging, recommended that they both say NO! That is what they said and who can blame them. The five of us, Linda (my wife), Celina our daughter, Brendan our son, Oma (Linda's mom) and me talked it over some more. We agreed that for many reasons, not the least of which was Linda having been bitten a second time by Roxie, that Oma - who is in her eighties - would be at Roxie's mercy in such if ever attacked by her, that the other four dogs were at risk of being attacked and another very important upcoming reason that I am not at liberty to disclose right now, we needed to put her to sleep.

We brought Roxie to the vet's office a couple of hours ago; Linda was in tears, at the dining room table, when Brendan and I took Roxie to the vet. While we waited for the doc, Roxie seemed to know something was wrong but that was probably just me. She was most likely just nervous because she was at the vet's office, as she always is nervous when there. Brendan and I were there with her for about 15 minutes when the doc came into he room. We opted to stay with her through it. They literally put her to sleep with some sort of barbiturate. Then after a few final minutes with her, they injected a drug that stopped her heart, almost instantly and she was gone. Brendan and I were blubbering like lost children and I guess that about sums up what we were in those last moments with Roxie.

My Uncle Ken once told me he never saw a dog before that so badly wanted to please someone as much as it appeared Roxie wanted to please me. It kind of worked both ways, I liked to keep her happy too. Early on, I found outa lot of that was in the cookies (what we call dog treats) I gave her - much as Jack Nicolson, in As Good As It Gets, said it was all a trick, all due to bacon. Well, it wasn't all due to cookies or bacon, it had a lot to do with love too. I am going to miss her, we all will miss her - a lot.

 

We have had to put two dogs to sleep before, one due to terrible nerve damage, resulting from a back injury, that was getting worse. The other was due to old age problems (she was probably 22 and literally falling over a lot, mostly blind, and so on). Before today, we never had to do that for a reason like today's and add to that Roxie was only 7 or so and as I said was lovable 99.9% of the time. Even though I know ours was a good reason today - it was tough, very difficult to do. God damn, I am miserable. Then again so too are Brendan, Celina (and probably Phil - Celina's husband) and Linda. Linda was crying when we left with Roxie and crying when we got back home. She adopted Roxie, as a surprise to me (not for me), when I was out in Arizona on a detail for work. When I got home and saw her for the first time, I soon got over my shock and came to love Roxie as much as all of our other dogs.

By the way, Lucy has four good sized punctures in her neck and her sides near her shoulders. She was not injured internally as far as we know; although, my guess would be some muscles got torn or stretched badly as Roxie violently shook Lucy back and forth while in her maw. Hopefully, she will pull through admirably. That, at least, was a little sunshine - even if it came late today - after Roxie's sunset.

Later 4 U,
Glenn B

The Dog Owner Should Have Been Beaten...

...to a bloody mess for leaving is dog behind resulting in the pooch's death. I am by no means a petaphile, but sometimes what people do to animals deserves a damned good beating. The only out I see for the car/dog owner in this decades old case would have been had the owner been disabled but I tend to doubt there were many disabled driver's in the 40s.



By the way, this The Tacoma Narrows Bridge Collapse has always been my favorite film of a bridge being destroyed. Too bad for the dog though.

All the best,
GB

Mama, Can I Have Some Too...

...seems to be the thought passing through at least Abby's mind as she sits on my wife's lap at our dinning room table right after we finished our roast chicken dinner. (Yes, all 7 dogs got some when they ate - our 5 and the 2 visitors.) She is staring right at what is left on the platter. Note her good manners though, no elbows on the table. The other one on Linda's lap is Chloe, one of our daughter and son-in-law's visiting Chihuahuas and the third one sticking his head out from under the table is our Pepe.

All the best,
Glenn B

The Crisp Coolness...

...of a damp morning greeted me as I swung open our side door to let out the hounds a few minutes ago. As usual Mimi, our mutt, ran along the neighbor's fence staring up into the trees. She was looking for our resident squirrels and birds. She even stopped to tinkle, all the while peering intently up into her favorite small tree, one that until a few days ago was weighed down by an abundance of medium sized blackberry like berries (anyone know what kind of a tree makes berries that looks like blackberries). It is the squirrels that make her flip out though, and thankfully there were no squirrels this morning up in the berry tree. Yes those squirrels and many local birds love those berries. I am pretty sure Mimi too has eaten her share as we were seeing evidence of seeds in her 'business'.

When it comes to squirrels, I could use the magic of the Dog Whisperer (or any other dog training magician) to calm her down, she is so intent on them that she hears no or few commands from me when they enthrall her. I don't know if they are singing some high pitched Siren's' Song to her, but about the only way to control her when a squirrel is nearby is to tether her to another tree much as Odysseus was tethered to the mast of his ship. Squirrels simply make her go bonkers and she jumps trying to climb our trees, has jumped over the neighbor's fence, has apparently tried to take flight a couple of times (I am happy she does not have even vestigial wings), and once or twice when out front ran right out into the street chasing a squirrel (no more off leash for her on the street). It is not just the squirrels though. She has already - to our knowledge caught 4 birds in mid-flight in our backyard. She is quick. She has also chewed up a prized tortoise of mine, yes the tortoise is okay but will probably never win Best In Show again, and she has obsessed over a backyard pen that now houses the tortoise and 2 bearded dragons. She is almost possessed by a desire to catch small critters, and no punishment seems to deter her from her mischief. She is so taken by them that she will even sometimes stop playing fetch with her favorite ball; and the way she gets into playing it has to be something pretty compelling to make her stop. Today though, she just watched, I guess because she too was listening to the wonderful birdsong that filled the air.

Her presence under the trees this morning did not deter the flock of mixed species of birds that also greeted us as we walked out of the house. Their symphony of chirps, whistles, and chittering filled the air like it has not for quite some time now. It was late in the day before yesterday that I filled up the bird feeders (2 of them) for the first time in at least few months. Even with our mighty oak tree gone, these tiny winged singers still find their perches among the smaller trees of our backyard and serenaded us and one another with their busy songs, that is once those seeds are back! With so many present at one time, it seemed Mimi did not have a clue as how to react, and she sat there as if mesmerized by their songs. Pepe, our mini Chihuahua, ignored it all and went about getting his morning business done. He has his priorities straight if only because he is a slave to the dog biscuit that awaits him once he gets back inside; and I suppose he figures that birds are basically for the birds although a squirrel on the ground is fair chase for him too.

Today there was a slight delay between the doggy business of the backyard and the biscuit; I had to refill the bird feeders. Funny how fast those seeds disappeared once our feathered friends figured out they were back. Mostly we get English Sparrows, but there is also a good variety of others including House Finches, Doves, Cardinals and others of whose names I have little or no idea. Every now and then, maybe twice per year that we notice, a hawk stops by for a quick lunch too - and brother he is not eating seeds. Of course there are also those rats with wings (Pigeons) and busy tailed rats (Gray Squirrels) that bring their appetites to the feast. It is not until the pigeons show up though that my wife gets upset with me that I have filled the bird feeders. I am hoping they have found other, more abundant and tastier, feeding grounds than my backyard, and that it will be a long time before they again show up here. For now though, as my brief summer morning's backyard interlude fades into the rest of the day, the bird feeders are filled and I can hear the twittering of those more desirable avian songsters as my fingers clack away on the keyboard. Life is good.

All the best,
Glenn B

Animal Obligations

Well $98.00 later, a shot, some pills, and Mimi is not barfing right now; but then again she stopped right before we got to the vet. I walked her to the vet so that was not a mess in the car. Hopefully she will get better without further incidents. Animal care can be expensive, but if you have a pet you should take care of it properly.

We met a nice lady at the vet who had rescued three kittens from a construction site. Their mother had abandoned them. She is caring for them now, and they seemed more than a handful for her. It was kind of nice to see that someone would care for three kittens like that without raising the flag of PETA or some other wacko animal rights group, and just take them home to give them food and shelter, then to the vet for a checkup, all without making it a federal case against the construction company, or in favor of spaying/neutering, or against cat ownership in general. I wish her luck in adopting them out.

Now what was it I was supposed to be doing around the house today??? While I figure out what chores I need to get done I'll say: Later for you all, and later for a gun blog.

All the best,
Glenn B

Sprocket The Rocket - Heaven Bound

Lately she could not walk very far without just about falling over; heck sometimes she could not take more than a few steps with trembling and having a hard time at it. She would get up in the middle of the night and pace though, incessantly back and forth to her water bowl; and if there was water she would drink every last drop of as if parched from a trek through the Sahara and having finally found an oasis. Other times she would just stare as if out into space pondering the depths of the universe, and while chances were she was just staring at a wall instead of looking out to the heavens - who knows what she saw. At those times when she seemingly was spaced out, she had to be called over and over again before she heard me or saw me motioning to her; and while I don't know for sure where she was then, I like to think it must have been a glimpse of heaven she was seeing. She was old and frail, had a tumor the size of a baseball (had it for many years too), and had many other semi-crippling afflictions.

She was not always that way our Sprocket. She was named Sprocket after a character on the show Fraggle Rock (a favorite show not only of Celina and Brendan, but also of mama and papa). Later on we nicknamed her Sprocket The Rocket and for good reason. She was the fastest mutt I have ever seen, and once she kicked in the afterburners she just kept going. I think if allowed to she could have run for miles. In fact she may have done so more than once at Uncle David, Tante Marlene and my nephew Daniel's place while chasing their dog Milo, or their friend's dog Rudy, two of her canine pals, through the big (really big) backyard. Had she been a real rocket, she would have been a wonder of scientific technology because not only was she fast, and tight in the corners, but she loved the water. When we first got her, I used to take her on long walks to a pretty remote spot (imagine a remote spot in New York City - well there are more than a few relatively speaking). I was trying to break her of some bad habits, and trying to train her to act okay when off the leash. I had her off the leash and she was responding to my commands just fine that day so many years ago, heeling like the best of trained dogs. Then suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks, her ears went up, her brow furrowed, her tail went out, she was as alert as I had ever seen her. I could not figure at what she was looking, but she was looking out over the sump pond in front of us. The next thing I knew she was airborne and then splash she was in the water loving every moment of it. A command or two and she was back at my side. She loved the water - imagine that an amphibious rocket! When we visited my sister and brother-in-law she used to put her paws in a water basin and splash like crazy, yes she loved the water. She loved her trips to my uncle's and aunt's farm too where she could run and swim and play with other dogs there as she pleased. It had the right name for people and dogs alike - Happy Times Farm, and Sprocket's visits there were always happy ones for her and for Celina and Brendan when they were together there.

She was also a loyal companion for Linda (my wife) and for Brendan and Celina (our children). The kids grew up with her at their sides, and Linda was faithful in caring for her taking her for long walks each and every day without fail. I walked her too, but nowhere near as much as did Linda - they were quite the pair those two. In return, Sprocket was protective of the family. At times almost to a fault, and was sometimes nippy of our guests. As some time went by she pretty much dropped her habit of barking and nipping at everyone who visited us first in our apartment, then in our house. She grew accustomed to family and most friends and accepted them all as part of the pack. Still though, with a few people who were friends of the family, she never quite got over whatever joy it was for her to give them a scare - you know who you are Kyle and Laura!

She was that way with other dogs too at first, and it took a long time to get her to be decent with other dogs when we went out for walks; scars on her legs probably proof of a dog fight or three. She wound up getting along fine with Milo and Rudy though, and later on with Onkel Raymond and Tante Lorraine's dogs, and also with Onkel Alex's dogs. She also got along great with Cody our cat. Cody had come to us as an adoption from our neighbor who had moved away and could not take her two cats. We took the saner one, and my wife never let me live down the fact that when asked if we wanted him I said it was up to her. How could she turn down her best friend's request? They were pals those two until Cody left us last year.

Sprocket had other buddies with four legs. When we got Hexi, our mini dachshund, well Sprocket did not know what to do at first with such a little and young pooch. Yet Hexi, with her magic, was able to turn Sprocket into a playful pal in almost no time. Later on when Pepe joined the pack, Sprocket was a lot older, and less playful, but she accepted him pretty much right away, and she often took pleasure it seemed in watching Hexi and Pepe romp in the living room or backyard. What a pack, 4 humans, three dogs, and a cat.

Sprocket, like Cody, also came to us as an adult through an adoption, but a totally unexpected one, at least for me. We had just had to get rid of another dog we had adopted that was vicious and that had attacked both of our kids. That was tough, because the getting rid of part was permanent. Well, not too long after that, in fact sooner than I had expected, since Linda had said no more dogs until Brendan was older - there was Sprocket when I came home from wherever it was I had been. Uncle Alex had brought her by. She had been adopted out at least a few times after her owner had passed away. It seems no one wanted to keep her. Well no one except for us. She grew on us quickly despite her bad habits, I guess because of her good ones. As I said already - she was one loyal family friend and Linda, Celina, Brendan and I loved her dearly. She was part of our pack, and we part of hers.

I have to admit, I was surprised maybe most of all how much Sprocket got along with Granny (my mom), or should I say how much Granny seemed to like Sprocket (she is not an animal lover); but that was Sprocket - lovable. Of course Onkel Alex and Onkel Hans (my other brothers-in-law) and Oma (my mother-in-law) loved her too. Onkel Raymond (my brother) and Lorraine his wife loved her as well, as did Marlene (my sister), David (her husband) and Daniel (their son). Aunt Glenese and Onkel Ken loved her too. Sprocket got along good with all of them. Did I mention, she was part of our pack, and we part of hers.

Sadly those days are over. Yesterday Linda and I took Sprocket to the vet for the last time; and we had her put down. It was one of the toughest things I have ever done, and Linda has done it twice now in the past 3 months because in January our little Hexi had to be put down due to paralysis and seizures. Hexi was only 7, pretty middle aged for a dog. Sprocket was the grand old dame, and as best we know she was around 18-20 years old. We had her for 14 or 15 of those years as far as I can remember. The vet to which we brought her actually has a living room type setup in which they euthanize pets. It was as Linda put it, more comfortable. I think she meant for her and for Sprocket, and I'll admit that during the 1/2 hour or so we spent in that room waiting together, Sprocket seemed at home. The folks there were all very nice, especially the vet who did the deed. She was truly interested in Sprocket and her afflictions, and I think had we left out a few of them, she would have recommended other than euthanasia. She seemed generally interested in what was best for Sprocket. Once we told her about all of Sprocket's problems - she was very understanding, and she agreed with us that this was best. I wonder, but do not judge, if knowing that made it easier for her to do. I suppose it must have been tough for her, and that it is tough each time she does it. It was quick though, and Sprocket never knew what was coming, nor felt a thing from what I could tell. The thought that kept going through my mind as we waited, and as she was leaving us, was that she had trusted us to care for her. I know for a fact it was tough if just for that one thought along, hell it was the toughest thing I have ever done - bringing her there and going through losing her - being responsible for it. I am sure it was even tougher for Linda - she loved Sprocket with her all; and I imagine she had a similar thought to mine yesterday as we waited for Sprocket to be taken from us.

We will all miss her. We all loved Sprocket dearly, and we will miss her the same. Linda sobbed all the way home, nothing I could say or do would console her, though I think she found some comfort in me. Celina was over yesterday and shed more than a few tears for her, and Brendan is pretty torn up too. I am sure that everyone who knew her will miss her. Onkel Alex was hit hard when I told him what we were going to do; and to him I can only say thanks for bringing Sprocket, and a lot of joy, into our lives. I don't know if there is anything I can say or do to help ease their loss, or mine, except maybe to say that Sprocket The Rocket was heaven bound in a flash, and mama and papa were there with her at the end. Now she is in a place with no pain, and with fields through which to leap and bound, and ponds in which to swim at her heart's desire. We miss you girl, and we loved you - but I sure don't have to tell you that because you knew it, it was evident in how you loved us.

Filled with sorrow,
GB

The New New Deg

Pepe just did not appreciate the Chesapeake Bay Retriever mix Brandy (aka: Brownie) that we picked up from North Hempstead Animal Shelter, and who could blame him. Brandy was intimidating to say the least, and besides that she took a few nips at our little darling Pepe. It was only in play. The thing was all she wanted to do was play without giving Pepe a break, and some of that play included playful biting. Had she grabbed him just once on the head and shaken hgim, well I am afraid, we were all afraid that would have been it for Pepe. We would have kept her and trained her, that would have been easy enough to do within a week or two, and she was already learning within only the 4 days we had her, but she was just too rambunctious for Pepe. She probably weighed in at about 45 to 50 pounds. Pepe is 6 pounds. She was just too much woman for him.

That all done with, Linda was in the dumps. She and Celina went to look at some other dogs and found a nice Atlas Terrier. I saw it too and thought it looked very nice, but I got conflicting stories in the puppy shop where we found it up for adoption. In the end we decided it sounded like a problem waiting to explode and we held off. Then yesterday Linda, Brendan and I were back at the ASPCA pound in Manhattan. Nothing there that strike dour fancy except for a nice Beagle, but that was spoken for already. What next, hmm. Well a nice young lady volunteer at the ASPCA suggested we try the NY City Shelter on 110th Street. We drove up there with some trepidation. Two weeks ago while at the ASPCA someone had told us the NYC Shelter was not too nice, and things there were uncoordinated. What the heck, we went anyway.

Well when we got there we had to wait a bit before someone acknowledged our presence, not too long though or I would have walked away. When we told them we were there to see a dog, they said go right in and buzzed us into the holding area. No guide or anything like that. We immediately saw they had only 2 smaller dogs on the first floor, and we wanted a smaller dog this time. No more monsters like that Chesapeake Bay Retriever mix. We decided to take a look at a mix, they called it a Shepard mix; but what they did not say was that it was probably an Australian Mix, or an Australian Cattle Dog mix - or maybe a combo of both. Well at least not until later, and it did not matter to me as long as it was not a Pit Bull mix. You can own one, but Pit Bulls are not for me. This dog, white and black and tan, was very jumpy, but being smaller and weighing at my guess about 25 pounds, that was not a problem. She seemed well behaved on the leash, and made pee only when taken out of her cage and brought outside the building. That last was a strong plus in her favor.

We asked some more about her and all we were told was that her previous owner/adopter had brought her back to the shelter, and told the workers he fund her as a stray. They said they knew the previous owner was lying because they had the dog micro-chipped, and had the owner's name in there files. That made me wonder what could be wrong with Mimi. To get more info I was told to go to the front counter where they could pull up her info on the computer. I went, signed in the book, and waited, and waited and waited. Finally they called me and said they had no other info except that she was on hold! Egads - on hold - then why had they said she was available. Well it turns out she had been on hold to do a show at a church or something like that, and they forgot to take her off of hold. So she was good to go, if we wanted her. After seeing her though, we decided to look at a couple of Chihuahuas they had hidden away upstairs. We saw one, a female that looked nice, but was supposed to be nippy None of that for me, and Linda agreed, so did Brendan. He had thought that Mimi, the first dog we looked at was a nice one. We all agreed. I could not wait to get downstairs to adopt Mimi. We went back down to adopt her, and I had to sign in the book again. This time we waited and waited again, but not too long, as they helped other customers. I filled out the paperwork, had my references checked (I guess they checked), then paid $75 plus gave a $10 donation. Then I was asked if I wanted a goody bag, to which I said yes. I was also asked if we needed a leash, which we did, but we didn't want to buy on because we had spares at home, so the nice lady helping us got out a temporary leash for us. She gave me the goody bag, and said the dog would be out soon, and again we waited. The dog was out in about 15 minutes or so, and we were ready to skedaddle, or so we thought. Then we were told we had to wait again, to get some medication for kennel cough from the vet. Aargh - kennel cough! They said not to worry it was just a precautionary preventative since she had been in the kennel. We waited another 20 minutes for the pills, but I took advantage of it and took her for a walk outside. She made a poop outside, and again she got praises and petting for her good behavior.

The ride home was pleasant. Brendan drove, as he had also done on the way in. Linda sat up front, probably only because I jumped into the back seat before she had a chance, and of course Mimi was in the back with me. She was pretty calm throughout the whole trip. She stood a while, sat a longer while, and laid down even longer. She must have been in a car before, she behaved like a well trained dog. We got her home without accident, let her loose in the yard, and she went bonkers. Well not really bonkers, but I can tell you she is fast. She rocketed around the backyard like she had energy built up that wanted to take off to the moon. Then she peed in the yard. What a good dog. We brought her inside and Brendan suggested naming her Rocket. Our older mutt is named Sprocket, and Mimi reminded us all of Sprocket in her younger days when we called her Sprocket the Rocket because of how she ran and jumped when ever off the leash and allowed to play. We thought about it briefly but decided to keep the name Mimi. Celina came over, and she too liked her almost instantly. They played and bonded for a while, and I can just see Celina taking Mimi for long walks and runs to keep her fit (what a good daughter). later on Celina and Linda took Pepe and Mimi for a long walk. I spent some quality time with Sprocket on a shorter walk, and Brendan washed the Toyota (what a good son).

Mimi got along decently with Pepe and he with her (did I forget to mention that Pepe had come to the shelter with us). They remained on fairly good terms with only a few growls and snaps from Pepe once home. I think only a few because although Mimi backed off almost every time Pepe showed curled lips, she went at him twice and gave it right back to him both of those times. I think it made him think twice about bullying her as he had tried with Brandy. A for Sprocket, she showed a lot on interest in Mimi. I think more than she had shown in brandy. They even played awhile in the backyard, and being that Sprocket is 18-20 years old, play does not come as easily for her as it once did, but there she was right at it with Mimi.

Mimi was an angel throughout the night. We put her in a crate, but she started whining about 15 minutes or so after she was crated. I went up, took her out, and she headed for the door. She needed outside where she promptly took a pisser. This despite the fact that she had just done so for my wife 15 or 20 minutes earlier. What a good girl. Then it was back inside where she spent the night asleep without incident, well except for 2:30 Am when I woke up and let the degs out. Sprocket does not do so good overnight any more, so I needed to let her out to prevent an accident. Mimi went and she did her thing again outside, but my bet is she would have slept all night had I not awakened the. By the way, where was she sleeping when I woke them up - in her crate, but I had not put her back in there earlier. I had left the door open, and she just went in there on her own. I like this dog.

This morning I woke up and she was on the floor next to me. I took her out in the back, she did what she had to do, and again she convinced me we have a very good newer new deg on our hands. Right now she is lying on the floor behind me as I type. By the way, since we got her home, all that jumping, well almost all of it has disappeared. When she does it, we tell her no, and she stops.Not bad. She just got up and headed to her crate. As for me, I have to get up and head to the office. Later for you.

All the best,
Glenn B

Unplanned Weight Gain + A New Dog =

... time for some unplanned weight loss. Well, unplanned in that I had not necessarily planned on getting a mutt that needs as much exercise as our new dog Br----- is going to need. Our best guess is that she is a Chesapeake Bay Retriever cross. I don't care what the pound said about her being a Shepard cross. Yeah it could be she has some Shepard of one sort or another in her, but my bet is there is an awful lot of retriever packed into this bloblike slightly flabby pent up ball of energy - you should get a load of the webbed feet. She is a bit overweight at only 11 months old; and I am, at 52, a lot overweight. Her weight is probably due to lack of exercise or overfeeding with her previous owners; my weight gain due to me having recently gained a totally unexpected 10 pounds when I was ill a couple of months ago putting me at an all time high of 2--; oh let's just say I have surpassed pleasingly plump, and the dungarees sure are tight. (Any of you youngsters reading this know what I mean by dungarees?)

So there we were tonight out for a nice leisurely walk. We kept it slow paced since it is obvious that neither one of us has had a good workout in months. As it turned out we walked about 3.1 miles in just about an hour. That included quite a few sniffing stops here and there, a few corrective stops trying to get her to heel, and a short break for us (really for her) because it appears she was favoring one foot (but not as bad as she was two days ago). All in all I figure we will both improve over time. I am none to concerned about speed, but figure 4 or 5 miles per walk would be much better for both of us. For now though, 3 miles is okay by me, especially since we will probably go out walking each evening or night. Even if we only do 2 miles a day, that will be good for the both of us. Br---- will probably get another mile or two in there when my wife walks her in the AM. Who knows, if we keep this up, we may become slim and trim within a few months. I am figuring she needs to lose 10 pounds of flab - and it is okay if it is replaced by toned muscle; and I need to lose about almost as many pounds as I am years old! Yeah, I guess that will take more than a few months; hopefully she can train me right and I will stick with the walks.

All the best,
Glenn B

New Additions...

...to the household were inevitable - I guess. Some I was expecting, and another well it came as sort of a surprise. Yesterday, mid morning, was on the chilly side, not much wind to speak of but damp and dreary, with a steady light rain falling. I was waiting for a package to arrive via UPS overnight, and was promised it would arrive before 1030. Around 0940, I asked my wife to stay on the lookout for the UPS truck so I could go upstairs and shower, to get ready for work. Her response really surprised me when she said: "Its outside by the side door, the UPS guy just left it there." No knock on the front door, no knock on the side door, a car in our driveway so even a 10 year old may have suspected someone was at home, and this guy leaves my package containing 6 Dwarf Bearded Chameleons on my side steps in 40 degree temperatures! I almost flew through the door, grabbed the box, and brought them inside to warm em up. Now these guys being from a mountain range in Africa, one that has mountains over 8,000 feet tall, are used to somewhat cooler temps than many other lizards, but the 40s are a bit low for them.

I got the box open quick, took out the deli cups - two of them - one holding 2 males, and the other holding 4 females, and started to put them into their new tanks. Then wham, I noticed right off, before I even picked up the first one, that one of the females was DOA. Funny, the others looked no worse the wear for the trip they had just made to my place overnight from FL Chams in Florida. I checked through the box, and there was a heat pack in there to keep them warm enough, and it was still warm! I doubt very much that the one died from cold. The other felt not warm to the touch but not cold either. Sort of room temp, which was right at 68. I wondered if the heat pack had made it too warm for them, but I don't know.

Well, I had other things to do instead of wonder about why one had died. I got the other 5 of them into their setups, all planted nicely so they could crawl about on thin vines. The substrate in the tanks was sphagnum moss on which they could crawl about, and which maintains a good moisture level to help keep up the humidity a bit. Not as much as for something like a Dart Frog mind you, but these guys coming from mountains covered in forests like it kind of on the humid side as compared to many other old world chameleons. Once they were all set up in their tanks, I got an email off to the dealer. I took a couple of pics of the DOA chameleon, and attached them to the email. I had a refund in about 5 minutes, well a conditional one anyhow. No conditions for me, but due to not enough funds in the dealer's account to fund the refund. Oh well, as long as it shows up in a couple of days I will not mind. Then I was off to work.

Last night when I got home from work, must have been 10PM, I was taking off my shoes by the side entrance and heard my wife and daughter talking in the living room. Then I heard my daughter giggle, and I looked up into the face of Brownie! Thank goodness she had not rounded the corner with any speed and run into me because I would have tumbled down the cellar stairs just like Humpty Dumpty falling off the wall; and the way my joints have felt lately, you would not have been able to put me together again either. Brownie was the bit of a surprise, the new addition that I sort of had not expected. We had looked at dogs at the North Hempstead Animal Shelter this past weekend, and Brownie (soon to have a new name) was the one there that we really liked. Despite my telling my wife this was the dog for us, and I was as sure as anyone looking at a dog in the pound could be about adopting it, my wife insisted on going to the ASPCA shelter in Manhattan saying she would not make up her mind fast. So off we were in the Corolla to the ASPCA to look at other dogs.

At the ASPCA we waited hours before we were able to see a dog I had seen a there a few days before. Then they would not let me socialize with it because Linda was not with me, nor were my other dogs. This time we got up close and personal, and found Mandy, a silver/gray colored supposed Labrador - Weimaraner mix to be quite playful. The thing was she had been adopted previously, then returned to the ASPCA because of bad behavior. Well so too had Brownie been adopted and returned to the North Hempstead Animal Shelter, but for another reason. Brownie had been born at said shelter. She was adopted as a puppy by a couple with a new born child. They thought it would be great to have their kid grow up with a dog. I guess they never thought of how the dog would outpace the child, and at between 10 to 11 months old, Brownie was overwhelming the child being playful with it. Back to the pound for her - or so went the story we were given by the ladies at the shelter. They seemed honest enough, and each of three ladies had the same story about; more than I can say for the differing stories I got about Mandy at the ASPCA. In the end we decided to wait, even though Linda really now wanted Mandy badly. I thought that was the end of it until at least this Saturday. Err, wrong again! Turned out we have her Brownie as the latest addition to the household, and that is fine by me. I just wish the wife would talk these things over with me first, I almost stopped by the ASPCA to pick up the other one as a surprise for Linda. Man oh man am I ever so happy I decided it would be better to ask her if she wanted Mandy as badly as she had seemed to, instead of bringing her home as a surprise. Two of them would have been way too much with the 2 we have already.

So yes, I was surprised by see the big brown eyes looking at me over brown snout and brown nose, when I got home last night. Except for some brindle striping, and a white blaze on her chest - she is indeed a lighter shade of brown all over. Of course, that name is not satisfactory for my wife or daughter and they changed it to Brina. I would have none of it and laid down the law, we would all have a say in whatever is to be her name - Brownie - Brina or something like Whisky. After socializing with her for a while, including a 45 minute or so walk, it was online for me. Of course she would have none of that, and decided to sit next to me nuzzling me in an attempt to have me pet her some more. I was able to push her off of me, and she was distracted by Pepe our chihuahua and left me alone for awhile.

Then I checked my emails and saw an email from mike at FL Chams about the refund, and in which he wondered why the apparently healthy little female Chameleon he had sent me had died in transit. I wondered too. I took a look again at the shipping container, and at the deli cups in which these little lizards had flown first class overnight express, and I noted two of them had pooped in the container. Well one of the poops had some urea attached too it. Like birds, lizards wee in the form of white powdery clumps of urea; except this one was not white, it was pinkish to light red. Whatever it was, this little gal had been ill from something that had her bleeding internally. Maybe a parasite, maybe an illness, maybe just a blockage that kept her from passing the urea as she should have. That last one was my guess as the urea to fecal ratio was quite high from the look of it. Oh well, I got the refund, sort of, and am happy with the other 5 of them so far. I sent off an email to Mike telling him about my observations and suspicions as to the one that died, and left it at that. The refund is still pending, but I imagine that it will clear when they next make a sale. I suppose that is how it works. All in all, right now I am satisfied with the deal I got on them, and the service from Mike will get a high rating from me pending my receipt of an actual refund. I can tell you now, if the refund comes through as expected, I would give an excellent rating to how they conduct business at FL CHAMS.

For now, I have some chores to take care of in taking care of the new critters. Then I am off to the rheumatologist to tend to my old aching bones and muscles, but I'll not bore you with that. So its later for all of you, I need to get busy.

All the best,

Glenn B

Hunting Dogs Today

No not necessarily as in dogs that you go hunting with, but rather hunting for a new dog - that is how I spent a good deal of today with my wife. First it was up and at em cleaning up my mini-zoo. Then off to the North Hempstead Animal Shelter to check out the dogs. We saw a really friendly Lab mix (if you talk to the folks at the shelter) or Shepard mix (if you believe what it says on their site about the same dog). It was supposed to be only 10 months old, the claim was it was housebroken, it was friendly, good mannered on the leash, understood some commands, and deferred to the overpowering authority of our small chihuahua Pepe when he snarled at her. She was not the prettiest dog, but was easy on the eye. The only bad point was she was overweight. Not good for a 10 month old dog. We withheld judgement and headed over to the ASPCA shelter in NYC. There we took the tour and looked at all the available dogs, except the one we wanted to see. I had been there 3 days ago and saw a really nice looking Lab/Weimaraner mix (or so they claimed). It looked the part though. Today they said it was out on a walk, and would be back soon. Soon wound up being about a 1 1/2 to 2 hour wait for us. When we saw her, the lady who showed her to us was none to certain why she had been adopted then returned to the shelter. Being it cost $200 to adopt her (yes that is what the ASPCA is charging as her adoption fee, as opposed to the $29.50 fee of the North Hempstead Animal Shelter) there must have been a compelling reason that the last person brought her back to the ASPCA. A few days ago they told me it was something to do with the other adopter not being able to care for her, or something else benign. Today we find out she was going into the kitchen, somehow getting into the kitchen sink to grab dishes, then breaking them when they fell to the floor. Sounded hyper like. She was a bundle of energy, and I like that as she was very playful. Thing is she peed all over the floor without a bit of hesitation, and I had been told she was making inside and outside and was almost housebroken, which I guess really was code for not near housebroken at all.

Both dogs were responsive, apparently about a year old (though the first one looked older maybe because she was overweight), knew some commands, and got along good enough with the tiny terror Pepe. The first was much more mellow, easy on the leash, and friendly. The second was better looking, had more desire to play, was friendly, but pulling on the leash and hyper, and as I said made a mess while we were there. Decisions, decisions. We left both behind, and will think about it since we are in no rush. I sure like the playfulness of the second one, but am none to sure I want a dog that needs to be housebroken, especially one that weighs about 60 pounds, oh those messes! Decisions, decisions.

Here is a link to a set of pics of the first one at the North Hempstead Animal Shelter: http://www.petfinder.com/petnote/displaypet.cgi?petid=10435127.

No links available for the other one.

Got tomorrow to think about it if I want to scoop one up on Monday. I have all week to think about it if we want to look for another beasty next weekend. Decisions, decisions. Hunting dogs is not as easy as I had thought (although I can tell you, that $29.50 adoption fee is tempting compared to the $200.00 one).

All the best,
Glenn B

HEXI: January 3, 2008 - A Rough Day For My Family

When I woke up on the morning of the third, I was none to sure I'd be going to work. I was still achy, stiff, coughing and feeling fairly miserable from my cold or whatever it is I have had for the past several days. (I am still feeling it as I write this.) After a bit, I decided I was okay enough to go into the job, but figured I was going to be at least 2 hours late. As I warmed up the car, yes it was pretty cold, I checked my voice mails, and whoopee I found out I had to work a 2PM to 10PM shift. As it turned out I would not be late, and wound up in the office about 2 hours early. I got a lot of stuff dome I needed to finish up, and before I knew it it was about 6PM and I was headed out to do some surveillance on a drug case. At about 8:30PM I called home and no one answered. I tried again a little while later still no answer. I was not all that concerned, I figured my wife was out with the degs (our pet name for our dogs), or relaxing after a hard day's work and not wanting to answer the phone. Lucky for me at that time, I was in my government vehicle staying warm it was 21 degrees outside and getting colder.

Maybe about 930 or so, the surveillance was over, and I headed home. I called home again just to check in. When my wife answered and I asked how everything was, I could tell even before she said a words, that something was not good, I heard her sobs. Then she stammered that things were not too good. When I asked what had happened she told me Hexi, our 7 year old dachshund, had to be put down earlier in the night. Hexi had recently suffered from what the vets had led us to believe was a badly slipped disc that caused her to be paralyzed from about what would be your waist down. We had been set to live with that and Linda had ordered a doggy cart for Hexi, so she would be able to get around using her front legs for movement and the cart for rear support. The cart had not even arrived, heck probably had not been assembled yet at the factory, and Hexi had taken a turn for the worse. She was shaking and apparently having some sort of seizures when Linda came home from work today. Linda, Celina, Brendan, and Julia (Brendan's girlfriend) rushed Hexi back to the emergency veterinary clinic where the vet told them there was no hope for her, and Hexi had to be put down. They tried to call me, but Mr. Knucklehead had forgotten his cell phone at home today, so Brendan left me a message at the office. I only got the news when I called home later on as I said above.

It is a tough thing to lose a loved one, even if that loved one is only a deg. Hexi was a true bundle of joy from the first day we got her. She was Brendan and Celina's favorite out of the 3 of out dogs. Gosh, even my mom liked Hexi, and my mom has no great love for dogs or cats or other critters for that matter. Yet Hexi was able to warm her heart more than I had ever seen another dog do before. Hexi was lovable, and she surely was one of our loved ones. As a matter of fact I don't think she ever even growled at anyone let alone nip at them. She would rather have licked you to death, and she was always seeking or showing affection.

I don't know if it has really hit me yet in its full force, and as a matter of record I am pretty sure it has not. When I got home only Brendan and Julia were up. Linda had gone off to bed and Celina was at her boyfriend's house. I could see Brendan was hit hard. I got him to talk about what had happened, and I think it helped him a bit, but I could see the pain in his eyes. Julia was down in the dumps too. In the short time they have dated (must be 8 months already) she also fell in love with Hexi. it is as if the little witch (which is basically what her name means in German) could cast her loving spell over anyone. As for me, I think I will get the full force of this blow either when I talk to Linda about Hexi tomorrow, or when I awaken some night on the futon in the basement after having fallen asleep in front of the television and I realize that my little loving leg warmer is not cuddled behind my curled knees. It is difficult to think she is really gone.

We had Hexi, and she was a member of our family, for 7 or 8 years. I thought it was 8, but Linda told me 7 and I'll have to assume she knows better than does my muddled middle aged memory. Still though I remember when we went to the breeder (actually the son of a breeder) who was selling some dachshunds. Over many protestations from Celina, I put down my foot and refused to even consider a cream colored dachshund that surely must have been the runt of the liter, and which was the first one shown to us. When Hexi came out, I had convinced Linda and Brendan that she was the better choice, and we should take her (I did not even need to see another). They agreed but Celina, who wanted the other one flipped out. It was not too long, as time flies by though, before Celina agreed that Hexi had been the better choice than the runt we had seen first. Hexi casting that magic spell I told you about, it just took a bit longer with Celina - but not much for sure. As it turned out, we were all perfect for each other.

Well perfect for us and even for Sprocket our other dog at the time we bought Hexi. Sprocket too took a short while to get used to Hexi being there. At first she did not know what to make of her, and seemed afraid that she would accidentally hurt Hexi. But as time wore on they both grew to be extremely fond of one another, and Hexi brought out a playful spirit we had not seen all that much, if ever, before in Sprocket.

Hexi was not the perfect dog for some mind you. She was afraid of cars big time, and over the years we tried to walk her on the local streets to almost no avail. She would whine and pull, and be terrorized if a car drove by with even a hint of unmuffled noise. So she wound up spending most of her so called walks in out small backyard. If she ever got off the leash back there, she was away like lightning, usually to our neighbor Jessica's backyard, more to tease us than to run away I think, and could she be hard to catch or lure back (but we managed to get her back each time sooner or later, either with a cookie or witht he promise of a ride in the car and an open car door). She also ate like a vacuum cleaner, and we had to make sure to watch her weight for her. We kept her at a fairly good size. She could have been trimmer, but she was no porker for sure. She tended to bark a lot too. Anything outside our house would get her into a barking frenzy. She was very protective of us and the house. She kind of outgrew this to some small extent and got much less likely to bark at just anything, reserving her barks for the mailman, other dogs barking in the neighborhood, someone walking their dog outside our house, and bogeymen. Lately though, in about the last two months she again started barking more, but this only when she went out in the backyard for some reason. All that mischief, but yet she was perfect for us.

All that barking had one certain effect. Hexi taught our third dog, a mini-Chihuahua, Pepe (named after Pepe Le Pew), how to bark. We have had Pepe just over 2 years now, and for one whole year he never, and I mean never, barked. Then he started barking right there next to Hexi atop the arm chair near our front window. We don't know what prompted him to start, but he followed Hexi's cues and started to bark up a storm as far as Chihuahua barking goes. Of course, Pepe and Hexi were also great pals with one another, Hexi had that effect. Since Sprocket is so old now (I would guess about 19 or 20 years old) she is not as playful as she once was, so Hexi found a new playmate, and a ball of fire, in Pepe. He could run circles around her, but man did she ever get exercise in the house that she was missing because of not going for walks. Pepe would pester her into being playful, into play fighting over their dog chews and toys, and just run her in circles for the heck of it. Hexi loved it, and we know that because after not all that long she started teasing Pepe to get him to play.

I can only imagine that Sprocket and Pepe will miss Hexi as much, maybe eve more, than we do - in their own dog way. Linda and the kids, they are devastated. When my mom, mother-in-law, sister, brother, sister-in-law, brothers-in-law, and nephew, find out, there will be plenty of tears shed, they all loved her too. There is a lot to miss about her, I only scratched the surface in this memorial. As for me I miss her, so much so that a few seconds ago I thought something walked beside me and as I looked down. I swear, and I mean that literally, I saw what I thought must have been Pepe walking next to my chair, then realized it was nothing, but I swear I saw something reddish brown walk by my left leg toward the cubby hole under the desk just like Hexi used to do to sit at my feet while I wrote many of my blogs. It wasn't Pepe, he was sill in his bed with Sprocket next to the radiator on this cold, cold night. All I can imagine now is that maybe it was Hexi passing by to say her last goodbye to me; I wish she would have stayed a while longer. The vision was their just for a moment and was gone, just like Hexi and her life. My eyes are starting to tear up right now, I've got to stop now. Maybe more on her tomorrow or the next day. Maybe not. What more could I say than we loved her ever so much and we will miss her more than I ever could have imagined.

Glenn B

The Prognosis

Our Dachshund, Hexi came home from the veterinary clinic yesterday. Her prognosis for the long term is not great. She will, in all probability, never walk again on her hind legs. Now that she is home, the New Year will start, and continue, with her getting special care. Hexi can not walk at all right now, her front legs are not strong enough to drag her lard butted slightly overweight behind around. So we have to exercise her by walking her with a towel wrapped under her abdomen for support. We are using it like a sling for now, to support/hold up her rear. This way she can walk on her front legs with us holding up her back legs. This will be done until the dog cart we ordered arrives.

Luckily though the year ended on a fairly good note because her condition did not worsen, and we did not have to make a difficult decision about whether or not to put her down. What I mean is the decision was easy - we decided to buy her a cart to replace her hind legs so she can be mobile, and hopefully she will live many years to come in relative bliss. On the other hand, had her condition bettered or worsened the decision would have been much more difficult to make. So in a way, I am kind of relieved that she will be using the cart and not getting a back operation; but of course, I wish she never needed either one. In Hexi's case all sensation is gone - with zero to extremely little chance of any recovery - even with surgery. The back operation would have had some good chance of success but only if she had any feeling remaining in her hindquarters. The surgery would have cost over $5,000; heck the vet bills alone to date have been well over $1,000. The decision to have surgery performed on Hexi would have been difficult for at least two reasons, one that there was a chance it would not work or kill her, and the other that it would have just about wiped out any cash we have in the bank. The cart, which will give her much needed mobility, will go for $300 (plus shipping I think). That is a relief to our life's savings - the five grand would have just about wiped out our bank accounts; and it is a relief to the decision making process. If the vet would have said: 'There is hope of her walking again, but only 25%' - it would have been difficult not to have opted for the surgery and poverty but it would have been doable I think especially in light of the other option, that of the cart. Chances are we would have opted for the cart then too. Then again, if the vet had said there was a 50% chance of her regaining sensation, just imagine the difficulty in making the decision; and if he had said an 80% or more chance - I wonder if we would have taken it! It would have been a roll of the dice for us and her had we opted for surgery, with the dice heavily loaded against us; so as I said, the decision wound up being an easy one. Apparently though the decision for others would have been quite different, the vet said that he had to ask because some people would not opt to care for her but would rather have put her down had she been their dog. Sure, had she been expected to worsen, we would have chosen the same, but she is alert, in fairly good spirits, and apparently not in any pain. Thank goodness for that, the decision was easy - though I wish we never had to make the decision in the first place.

Well, as it stands, Hexi is going to need a lot of extra care. She has been with us only 7, or is it 8 years, since she was a little puppy. We all love her, and I although think the care will be time consuming each day, we will all do our best to care for her. Once the cart arrives, things should get easier. Right now we have to pick her up to bring her out to pee or poop. Thankfully the good old behind works on its own, but regrettably the faucet does not. We have to give her some squeezing to get her to pee, which I do not hesitate to say is much better than having to squeeze her to poop. My wife got squirted last night when she picked her up, I guess we have to be careful as to how we pick her up to avoid that in the future. Oh joy. I guess though it really is a joy, we would have been devastated had it turned out worse.

All the best,
Glenn B

Wow, I Have Not Written Anything Since Friday

I had planned to do a lot of things this weekend, like work on getting the job of laying the floor in my son's room finished, doing some shopping for a new gun (got some spare cash for Christmas), taking care of my critters (they all need a cage cleaning), and writing my blog - among other things. When I woke up yesterday, I think it was already, late morning or early afternoon. I was aching all over, and felt like crap in general. Regardless it was off to Home depot to pick up a Blind Nailer (nail gun for flooring), and then to another Home depot when the first told me all of theirs were broken. Then to yet a third when the second store told me they did not have a tool rental section. Finally got the nail gun, but never used it yesterday, because I felt even worse when I got home. So it was back to bed for me.

Somewhere in there my wife had taken our small Dachshund - Hexi - to the vet. She was having trouble walking on her back legs a bit the night before. From the vet she vet to an emergency veterinary clinic where they do surgeries. Hexi was getting really bad, really fast. They shot her up with cortisone, and by the time they had done so she had apparently lost all sensation in her rear legs. They said if she got sensation back, they would put her out, do an MRI, and do surgery if it was a slipped or exploded disc as they suspected.

Today dawned, and I still felt miserable, but I went to see our vet along with my wife, son and his girlfriend. She explained a lot about what could be ailing Hexi, and she called the emergency clinic for an update. The news was not good. She never got any sensation back. Her back legs are pretty much lifeless. So she is still in the emergency clinic under observation; a Neurosurgeon will see her tomorrow. We visited her today and she looked pitiful. Both our regular vet, and a vet on duty at the clinic told us there is little hope an operation will work regardless of what is the problem now that she has had no feeling for over a day, and because the problem progressed so rapidly. They are almost positive it is a disc but kind of made it clear the surgeon would know better so we left her there until tomorrow. They also agreed that unless Hexi gets some feeling back on her own - there is almost no point in operating on her, and little point in doing an MRI. We are hopeful they can diagnose her tomorrow, or at least rule some things out when the surgeon is on duty. We also are hoping it is not a tumor. If it is a bad disc they said she can use a dog wheelchair/cart to get around. If it is a tumor, well that could/would be much worse than a disc problem.

After that it was off to BJ's Club for some shopping. My wife joined recently, and I can tell you it seems strange to say we went shopping at a place called BJ's club. What can I say! After that, once we were home, I started some work on the flooring. I guess I was up there hammering away for about 4 1/2 or 5 hours. Why so long, well the rented nail gun was a piece of junk and did not work, and the nails for it were paper thin and bent each time I tried to get one out of the gun into the wood. When one did go part way in, it split the floorboard. So it was back to a regular hammer for me. With that, I got a whole 8 rows of floorboards put in. Not very much, but man oh man is that oak hard to hammer nails into even though I am pre-drilling nail holes. I can tell you that in those 4 1/2 or 5 hours my knees went through hell. I am betting I'll be hardly able to walk tomorrow; although I have to admit that when I started doing the work I felt like I was about 80 years old, and by the time I had finished I felt like I was only about 60 or 65 years old. I guess maybe I have a cold or something, and adding that to my having just started to work out again (I ran/walked 5 miles on Wednesday and 5 1/2 on Friday), the aches and pains of a middle aged fat guy overdoing it have had me really out of it. I can hardly wait wait until the morn when I awake stiffer and even more achy because of the work I did on the floor. Thanks to aspirin, I may actually make it to work tomorrow.

Now I don't have it as bad as Hexi, nor as bad as my mom. She also went into the hospital yesterday - some old age problem of one sort or another. She is better now and hopefully will get out tomorrow. I guess when it rains, and it is raining here, it truly pours. As for me, I am sure I will get over my cold soon, or imagine I will. I guess my aches and pains will also go away with time and a load of aspirin, though earlier today nothing worked. I must admit that the work on the floor loosened up some things and got rid of some aches, I am just expecting others to take their place by the morning. Oh well, enough complaining from me; whatever happens, I plan to have a good New Year's Eve at home with my wife, and a bottle of fine red wine, and a bottle of even better champagne; and I am hopeful Hexi will be with us. Hope you are felling better than us and not suffering from the blues or anything worse.

All the best,
Glenn B

The Pack Mentality...

...can lead to some funny situations if you own a few dogs or more. Take suppertime for the dogs at my house. Each and every night the dogs get all excited before they are to be fed. All three of them go to the kitchen, whenever someone walks into it, in anticipation of being fed. As their bowls are being filled they prance around anxiously, unless I am feeding them and I tell them to sit (I have to do that several times before it takes hold as they are so excited). Then they chow down with abandon, well at least the two smaller ones do. Hexi the Dachshund just about swallows everything whole. Pepe (as in Pepe Le Pew, not as as if a Mexican name) gulps as fast as he can with a few crunches heard as he quickly chews the food. Sprocket, our old lady of a dog, takes her sweet time eating. She has dog bowl manners.

While Sprocket eats, you can easily see that the other two, both long since finished with cleaning out their own bowls, are anxiously awaiting Sprocket to finish so they can go to her bowl to eat whatever little bit she leaves behind. We have had Pepe for about 2 years now and he learned quickly from Hexi that good things await them in Sprocket's bowl once she has had her fill. This lesson took awhile though, Pepe used to try to run in and grab something right from the bowl as Sprocket was chowing down only to be snapped at by Sprocket. He learned his lesson for the most part, but now that Sprocket is so old she is slower than she was with a young Hexi years ago, and sometimes Pepe still makes an attempt that is sometimes fruitful for him. Hexi used to try but also learned her lesson after being thoroughly scared by Sprockets growls and snapping jaws.

The thing is the lesson was learned and is now being forgotten. over the past several months, Sprocket has slowed down a lot. She is about 17 or 18 years old by our best estimations. We got her when she was about 4 or 5 and have had her 13 years now. She is getting really old, and with old age comes the joys of the 'golden years', or so they are called. Both Hexi and Pepe have picked up on this big recent change in Sprocket's speed; and as I said Pepe still sometimes makes a dash for Sprocket's bowl, and he grabs a morsel before she can react. Hexi has seen this and has seen Sprocket slow down, and she has become more brazen too. I guess the pictures will show it all.

In the first picture above, Pepe and Hexi wait patiently for Sprocket to finish her supper; their own bowls, both quite empty, can be seen in the background. Sprocket takes so much time chewing her food as she eats though that Pepe and Hexi are soon beyond the limits of remaining patient as can be seen in the second picture. Not too brazen yet, but certainly wanting Sprocket to hurry up, finish, and get away from her bowl. Sprocket doesn't even notice, she never did when they were that far away. She really never cared unless one of them got really close to the bowl. Then she would tell them what for, and remind them who was/is the leader of the pack.

Of course, with food at stake Hexi, the canine vacuum cleaner of all things edible, can barely withhold her urges to get some more. She is a true glutton, and if we allowed her to do so, she would turn herself into something that would rival the Goodyear blimp for girth relative to length. She is no fool though, and she know that if she tries to get right into Sprocket's bowl, Sprocket will give her a quick reprimand. Yet when she sees an opportunity, she goes for it. She is no slouch when it comes to grabbing a morsel, and if you look closely at the third picture, you will see a morsel tempting her, almost as if calling her name and saying: "eat me".

So she starts to make a move, right through Sprockets legs. I can assure you, a move like that in the past would have wound up with Sprocket giving a snarl, a snap of her jaws, and Hexi soon on the run to the safety of the living room. As it turned out tonight, yes these pics are from tonight, Hexi was able to make it all the way to the fallen crumb, and snatch it up without Sprocket doing more than looking over at her. Maybe that was because of old age, or maybe because Sprocket was just about full; she finished her supper just a moment or two later, and then took her inevitable walk to the water bowl for a long drink. Once she did that, the remaining few bits and pieces in her bowl were open for poaching by both Hexi and Pepe.

As you can see from the final picture, they both pig out in mutual glee once Sprocket's muzzle had vacated her bowl. Funny thing is though, if Hexi or Pepe were to try to steal food from the other's respective bowl there would be trouble for sure; it's just at Sprocket's bowl where they dine in mutual satisfaction without guarding the food. By the way, any of the family can go to any of the dogs' bowls, while they are eating, and take food out of them without fear of reprisal from them. The dogs know who are the bosses. The pack mentality is a wonderful thing, and as seen, quite amusing at times.

All the best,

Glenn B

Dedicated to Milo, a good friend of Sprocket's, who is now in dog heaven eating steaks and taking it easy.