Dog Day : The 20th Anniversary

Today is Dog Day.  Dog Day was established when Bear was born on September 1, 1995.  At the time we had Oppey,  Buddy & Jezebel -- Bear was the last in that long line of great Labs.  Rather than celebrating so many birthdays I declared September 1st as Dog Day.  The celebration has continued throughout the years, even after the incredibly sad loss of Bear.  It has become less a birthday celebration and more a day to honor all dogs and the place they share in our lives.  In spite of the name, the day is also for cats, indeed any pet, because they are all members of our families, and they all give us great joy and comfort.

Dog Day is a celebration so today I will remember Bear and Buddy and Oppey and Jezzie.  And I will both mourn and remember Blackie the Brown Dog who I lost in 2012, and my sweet Lucy who I just lost this past April. I will remember them all with love and gratitude for all they have given me.  

Blackie (the Brown Dog)

Lucy

Lucy was my last dog.  My new life is no longer suited to caring for large, rambunctious Labs.  But I now have the adorable Mister Pip, still a kitten but already a member of my family.

Mister Pip

So in honor of Bear, and in honor of all our fur-friends past and present, please celebrate a very happy Dog Day.

Rest in Peace Lucy (03/25/2003 - 04/22/2015)

Lucy was my 50th birthday present.  She was sweet and smart and mischievous and loving.  For 12 years she was my best friend and I will always miss her.  

Cara & the Devil Dogs

Jonathan sent this picture today.  Cara wanted a photo of herself and the dogs for a relative.  I'm not sure this was the moment she expected to capture.

Granted this is an older picture but Echo and Delta have always been sweet pups.  But, maybe they are demonically possessed and in true horror movie tradition the camera sees what we don't.

Dog Day

Today is Dog Day.  Dog Day was established when Bear was born on September 1,1995.  At the time we had Oppey,  Buddy & Jezebel - Bear was the last in that long line of great Labs.  Rather than celebrating so many birthdays I declared September 1st as Dog Day.  The celebration has continued throughout the years, even after the incredibly sad loss of Bear (http://ddramblings.blogspot.com/2012/03/sad-anniversary.html).  It has become less a birthday celebration and more a day to honor all dogs and the place they share in our lives.  In spite of the name, the day is also for cats, indeed any pet, because they are all members of our families, and they all give us great joy and comfort.

Dog Day is a celebration so I will  remember Bear and Buddy and Oppey and Jezzie and Blackie the Brown Dog with love and gratitude for all they have given me.  And my beautiful Lucy who is still with me, will have the traditional dish of venison and all the cookies she wants.

So in honor of Bear, and in honor of all our fur-friends past and present, please celebrate a very happy Dog Day.

Echo's Progress

Here are Delta and Echo with Jonathan back in April when Echo first joined the family.

And here they are last week.  It was Echo's first trip to the dog park, and her first swim.  Lucky dogs.

Echo Update

Echo and big sister Delta spend time with their neighbor while Jonathan and Cara are working.    

The neighbor's dog Gia is their best friend. Here are all 3 greeting each other.  

Gia and Echo taking a walk.

Echo and Delta in the Snow

Fun in the snow for Echo and Delta. 

Welcome Echo!

Cara and Jonathan have a new family member.  This is Echo.

Echo is exploring her world and meeting new friends.  (Though Delta looks a bit skeptical for now.)

Happy Birthday Lucy

Lucy was my 50th birthday present.  Today she is 11 years old (you do the rest of the math).  She is as pretty as the day I brought her home, sitting on Gus' lap the whole ride. She follows me everywhere and plunks down behind me wherever I go, whatever I'm doing.  I trip over her every time.  At least one of us never learns.  But she is sweet and loving, and she is a loyal friend. Today she will have venison and ice cream, maybe together.    

Lucy's Christmas

Lucy loved her Christmas sock monkey.  

She pushed it closer to the camera, seeming to demand a second photo.

Dog Day

Today is Dog Day.  Dog Day was established when Bear was born on September 1,1995.  At the time we had Oppey,  Buddy & Jezebel - Bear was the last in that long line of great Labs.  Rather than celebrating so many birthdays I declared September 1st as Dog Day.  The celebration has continued throughout the years, even after the incredibly sad loss of Bear (http://ddramblings.blogspot.com/2012/03/sad-anniversary.html).  It has become less a birthday celebration and more a day to honor all dogs and the place they share in our lives.  In spite of the name, the day is also for cats, indeed any pet, because they are all members of our families, and they all give us great joy and comfort.

This year is a somewhat sad reminder that Blackie is no longer with me.  But Dog Day is a celebration and so I will  remember Blackie (and Bear, and Buddy, Oppey, and Jezzie) with love and gratitude for all they have given me.  And my beautiful Lucy will have the traditional dish of venison, and all the cookies she wants.

So in honor of Bear, and in honor of all our fur-friends past and present, please celebrate a very happy Dog Day.

Rest in Peace Blackie (07/05/2004 - 06/13/2012)

This past Wednesday, 13 June 2012, I had to make the impossibly hard decision to let my Blackie go.  In the short two weeks since my last update on his condition, he declined rapidly.  He was no longer able to walk with me, he had to be coaxed to eat.  He did manage the stairs every night to make it to the bed so he never had to sleep alone.  And somehow last Sunday he found the strength to walk the trails with me one last time.  I didn't think he was up to it but he refused to turn back.  I am convinced he knew it was his last ramble, and it was a last gift to me.

 
Every dog, every pet, is loved.  But every so often, if lucky, there is one that you have a special and remarkable connection with.  I have been so blessed three times in my life.  First with my Beagle, Rip, who was my childhood friend; second with my Bear whom I wrote about in March (http://ddramblings.blogspot.com/2012/03/sad-anniversary.html), and then there was Blackie.

Blackie was sweet and sensitive.  He and I communicated in ways I can't explain.  He trusted me with his life and he was devoted to me in return.  I never thought I would lose him so soon.  While he likely had the cancer for quite some time, he showed no signs until the end when it was too late to do anything - indeed it is likely there was never a point when it could have been successfully treated.  He deteriorated fast but he never seemed to be in pain; he was loving and peaceful to the end.  The decision to let him go was the hardest I have ever been faced with.  Ultimately it was the only thing I could do for him.  He relied on me to do the right thing and I know that I did.  But I will miss him forever.

              

Update on Blackie

Blackie and I went back to the vet today.  As I had anticipated, the news is not very encouraging.  Naturally they took more blood from him; (he was such a good boy even though it took time to find a good vein).  His red blood cell count has not changed - no worse but no improvement.  At this point the vet has pretty much ruled out everything that can be diagnosed with blood, poop or urine.  Any further testing would involve xrays and that would require anesthesia.  Even though I knew the answer, I asked her what could be found with xrays.  She said that xrays would show any tumors.  If found, then I'd have to decide if I want him to go to a specialist for surgery to remove the tumor, and there is of course no guarantee that removal would help.  Before going to see the vet I had decided that I don't want to put him through any trauma just to identify a cause that can't be treated.  Blackie hates any disruption in his quiet, routine-filled life.  Xrays and surgery would make him miserable, and for what purpose?  The vet and I seem to agree on this.  She did give us antibiotics - though the tests have been negative for any condition caused by ticks or such, she said it wouldn't hurt to treat for that in case the tests were wrong, or were done too early to test positive.  So we'll try the antibiotics and then we'll go back in 2 weeks.

I learned today that bad news is bad news, anticipated or not.  But I'm glad he's not in any pain or distress.  He's happy to eat,  he still enjoys all treats that come his way.  And he still wants to walk the trails with me first thing every morning, albeit at a much slower pace.           

Roddy

One of the blogs I follow is 'written' by Roddy the Black Labrador.  Roddy lived in England with his 2 devoted owners who rescued him from the 'dog home' (as Roddy called it). His blog has always been filled with his stories and adventures, and the many lovely people he has met along the way.  For obvious reasons I have loved this blog, and I've come to love Roddy.  This morning I read Roddy's last posting - he died on May 24th after a long and happy life.  As I sat here crying for Roddy, Blackie and Lucy each came to me and put their heads on my lap as if they know the reason for my tears.  Both will be getting extra love today, in honor of a very good dog who led a very good life.

http://roddytheblacklabrador.blogspot.com

Blackie (the Brown Dog)

Blackie has been having some health problems.  Last summer when he was at the vet for his annual check-up I showed his doctor a lump just behind his upper right front leg.  I had done some research and suspected a fatty tumor (almost always benign) - the vet concurred.  At the time it was about the size of a tennis ball.  Her advice was to bring him back if and when it got larger, or if it started to bother him.  Late this winter it started growing at an alarming rate - here's what it looks like today - about the size of a small soccer ball.

So a few weeks ago I brought him in to see the vet.  She still thinks it is a fatty tumor but also thinks it should be removed due to its size.  In preparation for surgery she drew blood for pre-op testing.  A couple of days later she called to say that the blood work showed his red blood cell count was low (anemia).  We put a hold on the surgery; Blackie and I (with a stool sample) headed back so the vet could draw more blood.  The vet checked what she could while we were there - no lime disease, no intestinal worms, ... nothing obvious.  The vet wanted a urine sample while we were there.  Blackie and I went out with one of the assistants who followed us with a bowl - every time Blackie lifted his leg, she would stick the bowl under him - it took 4 tries (might have taken fewer but we were both laughing pretty hard) and at last she got some in the bowl.  The vet checked the urine and still nothing abnormal.  She then sent the rest of the blood to the lab for more analysis.  Two more days and she called - still nothing.  She listed 3 possibilities; the 2nd two were not encouraging.  Her first guess was an under-active thyroid - if this were it then it would be very treatable, and he seemed to have lots of the symptoms for hypothyroidism.  So back to the vet for more blood.  Blackie is a really nervous dog - he hates to have strangers touch him, so for safety the vet must muzzle him while taking blood.  She also lets me stay with him because she knows that he calms down considerably when I'm there.  This last time one of the techs drew the blood.  She came out to get him - I told her I usually go with him but she insisted that wasn't protocol.  I handed her the leash and off she went - she didn't get far when there was no more slack in the leash and she was pulled almost backwards - Blackie was sitting by me and had no intention of following her anywhere.  Some people have to learn the hard way I guess.  So about a week ago the vet called again to say that all of the thyroid tests showed normal function.  We were both disappointed because this was the one optimistic option on her list of possibilities.  She said that the next step would be ex-rays and that would require anesthesia.  She's a great vet and she knew that both Blackie and I needed a bit of a break.  So for now he is taking mega-iron supplements to try to give his blood a boost.  The main problem with the low blood cell count is a really low energy level.  I've noticed Blackie slowing down a lot in the past year - he used to love to run fast; just running made him happy.  Now he moseys along and sticks close to me, with an occasional ramble through the high grass or the stream.  I've credited the slowing down to age (he'll be 8 in July) but I guess low blood count is actually the reason.  I guess I'll have to subject him to the ex-rays soon.  The iron isn't hurting him and maybe he seems a little friskier, or at least he's less lethargic, or maybe I want to see that.  He does not under any circumstance seem to be in pain which is a very good thing.  And even the vet (who would not lie to make me feel better) admits that sometimes you never find a cause and sometimes the blood count goes back to normal levels.  Fingers crossed for a spontaneous recovery.

By the way, I once promised I would explain how Blackie (an obviously brown dog) got his name.  Lucy was my 50th birthday present, so I got to name her - I gave Dan 3 names and he made the final choice.  So when we got Blackie it was Dan's turn to pick the name.  He wanted either Buddy (for the chocolate Lab we had many years ago) or Blackie (for his first dog, actually a black Lab).  I wanted to remember the original Buddy as the only Buddy, so I selected Blackie because I never knew the original.  And OK, the irony appealed to me as irony often does.

A Sad Anniversary

On a beautiful and exceptionally warm Sunday March 7, 2004 I opened the back porch door and let 

our 9 year old Lab, Bear and our almost 1 year old Lab, Lucy out to run.  We have acres 
of woods behind the house and I had done this countless times before that day.  Dan and I went out a 

short time later and spent an hour or two cutting brush.  We began to wonder why Bear and Lucy 

hadn’t come back to visit now and then.  We started calling but still no dogs.  I walked the back 

trails while Dan traveled the adjoining roads.  It got dark and I spent the night on the couch 

assuming I would hear them run up the steps wanting food and attention.  By the next morning it 

was colder and it had snowed and our concern grew.  We spent the morning making fliers and 

distributing them to stores and mailboxes; we called every vet, animal control officer, local & state 

police, placed ads in the newspapers - and then we searched some more.  I got a call from a woman
who had found a black Lab and I drove a short distance to where she had parked her Mercedes with 
an extremely wet, dirty, and scared-to-death Lucy shivering in what was once a clean back seat.  
Though the fliers said we would gladly pay a reward for anyone finding our dogs, this wonderful 
woman said no, she was just thankful she’d reunited us with Lucy.  I asked where she had found 
Lucy and did she see the larger black Lab.  She hadn't but she would keep looking.  So many people 
tried so hard to help find Bear but days and weeks and months, and finally a full year went by. 

I feel certain that Bear most likely died out in the woods due to his age and size and a family history 

of heart problems, and because of his doubtless, intense feelings of responsibility to keep up with 

Lucy.  We also know in our hearts that no one could have taken him for long – he would have found 

his way back to us somehow, someway, someday.  But there is always a modicum of doubt, and 

maybe he lost his way.  If that is what happened, it helped at the time to know that there were 

organizations available to give solace and aid to Bear, and to other animals who can’t get back to 

their families - and for those saddest cases when no one ever loved them enough to provide a 

home in the first place.  So on that one year anniversary of losing my Bear I went to our town 

shelter and I donated money on behalf of Bear for all they had done to help find him.  I also donated 

to North Shore Animal League, a no kill, national organization dedicated to helping animals in need, 

and I donated to the ASPCA - all in Bear’s name.  And still now if there is money left after paying the 
bills that I may once have spent on something I don’t need, I send it to North Shore and the ASPCA.  
I do it for Bear because it is the only thing I can still do for him.   

I am so grateful that I still have my beautiful Lucy who is wiser and sweeter for the short time she 

had with Bear, and she of course has been joined by the sensitive and charming Blackie.  Lucy and 

Blackie are my rambling partners and best friends.  But I will always mourn the loss of Bear.

Gun Season

Incongruous with this beautiful start to the morning, it is opening day of gun season here in my part of New York.

I understand (or try to understand) the lure of hunting.  Dan is off to hunting camp for the weekend. For him, someone who was brought up on a working farm & has hunted all of his life, this is the best time of the year. This is Christmas for him.  He is a responsible hunter and never shoots just for a trophy.  And yet I walk this beautiful land we live on every day; the dogs and I share the field with the deer and we have a comfortable respect for each other's right to be there.

Normally I would avoid walking at first light on this weekend.  We are surrounded by farms, and neighbors who hunt - it is probably not the safest time for a morning ramble.  But this year I have no access to the back trails since Hurricane Irene destroyed all of our bridges.  And I'm not willing to give up our walks so we prepared as best we could and went up to the field at our usual time.  I put Blackie's bright orange collar on him.  Lucy was in neon pink.  I wore a red coat and off we went.

When out with Blackie, and then with Lucy, there were several gunshots.  I'm glad we walked but I missed the peaceful quiet we usually have.  Fortunately no change to the beauty.

Meet the Dogs

The dogs will be a big part of this blog, so here are my best friends & rambling partners.


First is the beautiful, obstinate, always-under-foot, so sweet & easy going, Lucy.

And here is the handsome, sensitive, attached-to-my-side, careful & loving, Blackie (the Brown Dog).

At some point there will be an explanation for why a brown dog is named Blackie.  It's not for the obvious irony of it.  Though I do appreciate irony in any form, I wouldn't name my dog for that reason.