My Fire Hydrant

There’s a little blip in the Feb. 18 Newsweek talking about how some Greenies out there are worried about dog poo adding to the methane gas problem and ruining our groundwater.

The green economy is
targeting a new color: brown. Each year the United States’ 72 million dogs
produce about 274 pounds of poo per pooch…

Heaven help me if they ever get a whiff of Bailey’s business! OMIGOSH! And I’m pretty certain it’s because of the chew bones the doc has ordered her to chew so we can keep her teeth clean.

Bailey never, ever farted (pardon my language) before she started chewing these bones. Now, she’ll sometimes blow this very discrete little rasberry–and she’ll turn her head around to her little tush as if to ask in surprise “What the heck is going on back there?” Other times there will be no warning sound, just a putrid aroma that wakes you from a sound sleep in the middle of the night.

The odor is something worthy of a much bigger dog—maybe a Mastiff who’s devoured six turkeys. Silient but deadly.

But the smell of her poo can actually kill you. Let me say again, this has only started since we put her on these chew bones for her teeth—I KNOW it’s not her food because we never had so much aroma before.

Our weather has been bad lately, and I have not been able to take Bailey out for her walks on a regular basis. So we go to plan B, her pee pads, which she is very used to using. But when she poops on the pee pads, the odor travels thoroughout the house and I have to resort to strong air freshner to get rid of the stink. No problem in knowing when she’s done her thing!

So I guess before too long I can expect a visit from Al Gore who will heap the disgust of the green world upon my head for choosing to have a dog with clean teeth over saving the ozone layer. Maybe once they get all the cow pies under control.

I think I’ve mentioned before how much Bailey dislikes going out in the rain. I got a big chuckle today walking behind her and watching how her back legs seem to try to swing out to the side, around the wet blades of grass. I don’t know how else to describe it. Her gait looks sorta like this:
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As she trots along those little back legs just swing out in a vain attempt to stay dry.

And don’t ever think that a dog’s face is expressionless! The look of disgust on her face, when I opened the door on today’s rain, was unmistakable and priceless! I love my dog!

Have I mentioned how much Bailey dislikes wet or cold grass in the morning? This antipathy towards wet, cold grass has not been very helpful lately when I want her to pee. You would think after sleeping all night she would want to pee, but NO! Not my little fluff princess!

I WANT HER TO PEE AND SHE WON’T BECAUSE HER LITTLE FEET MIGHT GET WET OR COLD!

She sticks her nose in the air, gets a snooty sort of bounce to her walk and looks at me and says, “How can you possibly expect me to go potty when the grass is being so uncooperative? I couldn’t possibly pee out here.”

I worry because if she doesn’t void her bladder on a regular basis then the crystals start to collect and before you know it she’s got little bladder stones. We’ve already been through 2 surgeries to remove bladder stones–I would rather avoid any more of those during the time I have left with her.

My mom loves to tell the story about how when I was a little girl, and we were traveling, and I didn’t like the look of the restroom, I would refuse to go potty. It would worry her to have a toddler with a full bladder in the back seat. To this day, I will hold it if the restroom looks even slightly soiled. Coincidence? Or have I taught my dog some of my own neurotic habits?

[On a side note, we're now 5 months out from Bailey's cancer surgery. So far, no symptoms. I wanna say she's in remission, but I'm afraid to tempt fate. Dearest God, please just keep these normal days coming.]

We went to the vet yesterday. Dr. B. found what she thinks is a tumor.

It’s a little to the left of Bailey’s anus, and about the size of a dime. I can feel it. It’s a hard mass beneath her skin. I’m supposed to keep an eye on it (maybe it’ll do a dance or something). So much for my houseboat on denial river.

The good news is that as it grows it should not interfer with Bailey’s ability to poop.

So yesterday I was enjoying my last holiday before work. Bailey was stretched out on my legs and we were both enjoying the La-zy-boy recliner. I was beginning to think that maybe some of the normal I had been wanting was coming back. Uh, nope.

She got up, didn’t move, but yelped loudly. Then she jumped off the end of the foot rest and disappeared under the bed. Later, we walked down to the fire hydrant (need to post a photo of that) and back. As we were getting ready to go back inside, Bailey noticed one of our neighbors across the street walking her dog, Oscar. Bailey gave a few soft barks as if to say “Yo Oscar! How ya doin’?” and Oscar and his mom started across to street and Bailey literally screeched. She wasn’t moving, but what a yelp she let off. And her back legs were trembling. We went into the house and she went under the bed and moped the rest of the evening.

She wouldn’t get up in the bed with me last night, wouldn’t let me lift her up. She slept mostly in her own bed, but when I got up to pee at 6 she was snoozing in her crate–something she hasn’t done in a long long time. And I had a really hard time getting her to go out for her first potty of the day.

She spent most of today sleeping under my desk–we’re starting to get back to the routine of me working at my desk all day and her managing and advising me from under the desk (so helpful to have such an intelligent little dog to guide me through my work day!). There was a moment at lunch time when she looked at me with that sleepy-doopy look on her face and her little pink tongue sticking out like a goofy stuffed toy–Dr. D. (at the office) says that when dogs are very relaxed they can seem to loose control of their tongues–the tongues sorta flop out of their mouths without them knowing it. I had never seen this on any of the other dogs I’ve shared my life with. But when Bailey is really relaxed and cozy that old tongue just pops out and she hasn’t got a clue that it’s not in its proper place. I thought maybe things were approaching my normal again. Uh, nope.

She did too much snoozing today–and hardly any pottys. After lunch, I tried to get her to go out and ended up taking her to the pee pad by her leash. She flooded the place! She did not want to leave the bedroom. But then around 5:30 she “asked” to go out, so we walked down to the corner. She pooped (finally!) and peed and when we got back she refused to step up the single step to the front porch–I had to lift her. My stomach acids started churning.

I fed her–she wanted to eat, in fact she asked for cookies on and off all day long. But she was hugging the bedroom–wouldn’t come out while I fixed her supper (she usually supervises) and wouldn’t come out when I called her for a cheesy treat (ah! the joys of pilling with the Laughing Cow!). So I brought her cheese cube (which secretly held her antibiotic) into the bedroom and gave it to her. She was standing. She ate the cheese then let out another yelp. And I decided, enough is enough. Called Bigger Road (God bless them!). They’re supposed to close at 7 but at 6:30 I was on my way with the pup.

Dr. B. manipulated her back legs–sure enough she was feeling some pain. I’m thinking, it’s gotta be a big tumor pressing against a nerve or something, once again the water works are going. Dr. B. took Bailey off into the dreaded back room to do a rectal exam and also to take some x-rays. Turns out, it’s arthritis! My poor little pooch has a pocket of arthritis in the ball joint where her right back leg joins her pelvis.

So, another shot of pain killer, another prescription (Metacam), and she’s been under the bed since we came home–except for the very few moments she came into the office and took a tremendous dump on the pee pad. When she showed me the x-rays, Dr. B. pointed out all the little poops waiting to come out–lotsa them. She figured that it probably was painful for Bailey to squat down into the poop position. Guess the shot helped.

I’m still looking for that normal time…

Yesterday was the last of our “social obligations” for the holidays, so today I feel a sudden yen to count my blessings.

1. We have left-over home-made cheesecake. Yes, my mom made cheesecake and it was part of a lunch we had with my boss and former boss on Friday, and the neighbor gathering we hosted last night (both of these meals have become a tradition for us). There’s probably 4 slices left and I am going to get my fair share–even though neither one of us should be indulging in the fat and calories.

2. We have turned down a get-together with my counsin’s family today so that we can have an entire day to ourselves where we don’t have to do anything. Every weekend since before Thanksgiving has had some kind of social gathering that we’ve attended and with all that’s been going on it’s really nice to have a day where we can sorta goof-off and not have any obligations to worry about–including straightening up the house for guests. Not that we don’t love everyone we’ve been seeing, but sometimes it’s really wonderful to re-charge your batteries by not doing anything at all.

3. As I write this, I’m finishing off a bottle of a really delightful zinfandel. Now, I realize that some people might look at the words “delightful zinfandel” and possibly see an oxymoron, but I am not a wine snob and I really like the taste of this Zin and it’s giving me a low-grade buzz that is not unpleasant. I’ve never worked on my computer with a little buzz going on–may have to do that more often.

4. The weather is mild and our snow is gone. Most people would want a white Christmas, not me. Bailey has been very inconvenienced during the past 2 and a half weeks because the snow was covering the grass and she didn’t know where to do her business (the pee pads sometimes just don’t cut it). I cleared a patch of grass around the patio and by our front door (causing our visitors to offer up many chuckles, much laughter and not a few jokes about how I had missed the sidewalk when I shoveled), but these areas soon lost their charm and Bailey wanted to go further afield for potty pastures. Alas, the snow put the kibosh (would you believe I found that word in the American Heritage Dictionary?) on that plan! But now the snow is gone and we’ve actually had 2 walks all the way down to the end of the block and back! (She was totally pooped–pardon the pun–after both walks and had to have a good snooze).

5. Bailey groomed my ankles this morning. Ever since she was a puppy, every morning when I brush my teeth she has come into the bathroom and licked my ankles, grooming them. OK, maybe that sounds a little kinky. I have to admit that sometimes it tickles. But I’ve always looked at it as Bailey’s way of helping me start my day–make sure mom’s ankles are clean. She has not done this since the surgery. It may sound silly, but it was a very welcome experience. She’s starting to feel better from the surgery.

6. I figured out why Bailey has been moaning. She started moaning Thursday night. I think she hurt herself the last time she jumped down from my bed–she hasn’t been asking to come up on the bed or the sofa. In fact, she’s been hiding under the bed a lot–especially if she thinks I’m about to pick her up. Thursday night she started doing little moans from under the bed. Not a “I’m really in pain” kinda moan, but a “I feel crappy and I’m sad because I’m lonesome” kinda moan. Every few minutes. Enough to rip your heart out. And she won’t let me do anything about it because she won’t come out from under the bed. I ended up sleeping most of the night on the sofa on Thursday, Friday and last night because I couldn’t stand to her her moan–it kills me and I can’t do anything about it. Of course I took her in to see Dr. B. first thing Friday morning (God bless Dr. B. and all good vets like her! She had a killer day on Friday and she made time for us!) Dr. B. checked everything out–she made sure there was no infection from the surgery or any other problems that might cause her to moan. We both concluded that she might still be in some pain and might even be a little depressed (yes, dogs get depressed just like humans sometimes do after surgery). So she gave Bailey a shot of some “narcotic” which made Bailey feel pretty good. Friday night the moaning was lessened, last night it was lessened even more–but still going on. At 4 AM a lightbulb went on over my head and I suddenly realized that she has not spent any time in her bed for the past few days. So I picked up her bed (a half-moon foam-walled thing with a fuzzy cover), and made up a bed for her with pillows on either side, a rolled up quilt along the back (along the foot of my bed), and a couple of “doggie blankets” on top of a thick sherpa-fur pad. I put a cookie (Iams, of course!) on top of it and she crawled right in. After I turned out the light I could hear her digging up the blankets to make a nest and she slept the rest of the night without a peep until around 8:30 this morning. Today, she seems more like her old self–the whole time I’ve been typing this she’s been in her “bed” under my desk (I’ve made the same changes to this bed as I did to the one at the foot of my bed) whining for cookies. She even tried to sneak into my mom’s room today in search of tissues! A good sign that she’s on the road to mending from the surgery.

7. I have an incredible circle of people supporting me. The vet techs and ladies behind the desk at Bigger Road have given me an endless supply of empathy and kindness. I have no words to express how much I’ve appreciated Dr. B’s support and help. I think I must work with some of the most caring and understanding people in the world–I had a long talk with Dr. Carey a couple of days ago (he has so many responsibilities within the company that I hate to take up his time, plus he was on vacation!). He really confirmed in my mind that I’m making the right decisions for Bailey. My cousins and aunts are so wonderful, and my neighbors have offered all sorts of kindness and support. I am truly blessed because I have all of these wonderful people in my life right now.

(Of course, there is a voice deep in my heart that says I would really be truly blessed if Bailey’s cancer would just go away. Yeah, like that’s gonna happen. I’m really gonna make an effort to live in today, and not think about what’s coming up in the future when she starts drinking lotsa water again. Omigosh. Did I just make a New Year’s Resolution?)

To anyone reading this: Merry Christmas. And, please God, let us all have as Happy a New Year as is possible.

I take back everything I said in my previous post about Med Vet–they are some of the nicest, most empathetic people I’ve ever come across!

Bailey had her surgery on Tuesday–Dr. Schertel called me around 10:30 am to let me know the surgery was done and she was in recovery (I also found out later that he called my vet, Dr. B. to let her know what was going on). It was actually 2 surgeries–the first one was to “strip” the 2 sub-lumbar lymph nodes. They did that through an incision that runs from about 3 inches below her rib cage nearly to her little “private parts” down her abdomen. The 2nd surgery was to remove the left anal gland–an incision that runs a little over an inch out from her anus.

We picked her up on Wednesday afternoon. Poor little sweetheart–she looked like some demented Poodle groomer had gotten ahold of her. Her front legs had Poodle puffs around her “ankles” then she was clipped down to her skin around her “calves” with her “thighs” being furry. She has a bare skin patch on the lower part of her back, and her little heiny is totally bare all the way around her private parts and her underbelly up to her rib cage (gives new meaning to “bare-ass nekid!”)

The incisions look healthy, but scary. She has stitches and metal sutures in her belly incision. The little incision off her anus has stitches.

They told me to keep the e-collar on her at all times–but she doesn’t rest well with it on. She behaves as if she’s being punished. So I’ve spent the past 3 days in the bed room with her as much as possible to keep an eye out that she doesn’t mess with her stitches (thank the Good Lord that I can work from home!). She’s stayed mostly quiet. I’ve not had much sleep.

We’ve had 2 traumas.

Trauma 1: Around 6pm on Thursday, Bailey vomited. This was scary because I got the e-collar off her just in time for her to urp (I had only put it on her 15-minutes prior, this was the defining moment for me and the e-collar–I now hate it as much as Bailey does). I heard her whining–she hardly ever whines–I popped off the collar and she threw up a mass of yellow bile (will need to get the stain out of the carpet soon), with a little bit of kibble thrown in (I had managed to hand-feed her 8 kibbles that morning). I called Med Vet. This is where my mediocre opinion about them changed.

I spoke with Dr. Jenny Lang–she works with Dr. Schertel and had been part of my original consult with him. She was more concerned over the vomit than I was (WHAT??). She told me to discontinue the Carprofen–she thought that might be upsetting Bailey’s tummy. She was also a little worried that Bailey had not been eating (see Trauma 2). She said she could prescribe a new pain med from a local pharmacy, if I thought it was needed, and for me to call her back in the morning.

Around midnight Bailey was restless–up to now she had seemed mostly sleepy and content to lay in her bed. I called Med Vet. The Emergency Room vet tech was incredibly empathetic to me–she took the Walgreens phone number (God bless the person who decided that Walgreens would be open 24/7!), and she contacted Dr. Jenny to find out what pain med should be prescribed (probably woke her up at home!). By 1:30am I was giving Bailey her new pain med (Tramadol) and by 2am she was fast asleep. (All of this happening during a massive snow storm–when I drove to Walgreens the only other vehicles I saw were snow plows!)

Trauma 2: Bailey has not eaten anything since Monday night–the night before her surgery. On Thursday morning I managed to hand-feed her some kibbles, but she urped them. When I spoke to Dr. Jenny on Friday morning she said to try anything to get her to eat–chicken and rice or canned food. I called my vet (wonderful Dr. B.) and got a prescription for EVD Low Residue canned food.

OMIGOSH! I gave her a couple of healthy tablespoons with a little chicken broth and you would think she was starving the way she attacked her food! (I guess she was, poor baby, with nothing in her tummy since Monday night!). We did small servings all day on Friday. She seemed to be a little perkier.

At 7pm Mom and I sat down for supper in the great room (first time that we’ve had supper together since Monday night). Guess who joins us! Little Miss Puppy Butt comes out of the bed room (she had not voluntarily left her bed since she came home), not at her usual frisky trot, but at a kinda nervous gait plopping herself down at my Mom’s feet (the best spot for fallen tid bits). She stayed there the entire time we ate supper, then minced nervously back to her bed.

Later on, she “asked” to come up onto the bed with me. She has not done that all week. Around 4:15 this morning she jumped off the bed before I could lift her down and headed for her pee pad. She did a massive pee (first time she’s used the pee pad since the surgery–I’ve been putting a coat on her and “forcing” her to go outside to pee–she hasn’t wanted to leave her bed). Then, wonder of wonders (!), she started to do the poopy dance.

[OK, if you're reading this you probably think I'm nuts, but my dog exhibits definite, definable movements when she's getting ready to have a bowel movement. She does a poopy dance. I don't know how to catalogue it, but I can recognize it when she does it. Just like I can recognize the way she moves when she is uncomfortable (like when she joined us for supper last night). Her moves are fast and jerky, her tail is at half-mast, and she moves to her destination without stopping for anything--not even an interesting smell.]

The whole BM thing has had me worried because–remember–she has this incision held together with stitches at 8 o’clock coming off of her anus. But out popped 2 little poops with no apparent problem! They came out easily, and she did not seem to experience any pain when they did. I felt like doing my own dance. Bailey re-settled herself on her bed with the opinion that I was silly to be dancing around the bedroom in the middle of the night.

Her stitches/sutures come out next Friday. We will also see the radiologist then. I am not convinced that I should put Bailey through radiation or chemo, I hate the idea of making her suffer anymore than she already has! But I’m going to hear what the radiologist has to say.

These past couple of days I find I am able to talk about Bailey’s cancer without crying, maybe I’ve begun to accept it (even as I type this I feel my eyes stinging and tearing up). And I am amazed and humbled at the number of friends and acquaintances who have come forward, asking about Bailey and offering support. I’m still not in much of a holiday mood, but I’ve begun to think I might make it to January.

It’s raining and cold today–has been all weekend. It’s wonderful to hear the rain knocking on the roof, but it’s a pain in the butt for Bailey. She hates walking in the rain–and she doesn’t like to potty on a wet surface. It’s days like this that make me thankful she’s trained to potty on pee pads. When I first house trained Bailey, I lived in an apartment in downtown Dayton. I couldn’t take her out for a walk as often as I wanted to because of our location, so I trained her to use a pee pad. I started by covering the entire floor of my apartment (so glad I lived in a studio!) with pee pads. Each week, I narrowed down her “target” until finally we were down to one pee pad in a corner of the sleeping alcove. I buy ‘em in bulk from Sam’s Club–they’re actually pads like hospitals use to protect the bed. Much cheaper than buying a name-brand puppy pee pad 24-pack from the pet food store. I really think the pee pad option has helped Bailey not to break training–Bichons have a notorious reputation for being hard to housebreak! And they’re a life-saver on days like today–Bailey absolutely refuses to get her little white fluffy paws wet in order to go potty. Ah, the life of a puppy princess…