The Decade of Melvin.

I rescued Melvin ten years ago. Of course he rescued me ten years, and one week ago (when I drove to Delaware to meet him). I don’t know how it is possible that it is only ten years, because I cannot really recall a time before, or without, Melvin.

Melvin made me believe in fate.  I believe the universe delivered a master plan in us.

Yes, Melvin won in his life with me. He got the vet care he needed. We waged an assault on his allergies. He had the healthiest life he could have, with me. I love him with my whole heart. But the winner of our union will always be, me.

He changed me. He taught me to chase joy. Jake came, because of Melvin. Because we were joy junkies and we needed that little peanut so we could all be more joyful together. I have so much patience for Doug, because Melvin taught me to be understanding of all dogs. To accept that it is not where we’ve been or where we are going, it’s where we are right now.

I worried when he died that he wasn’t able to impart his wisdom on more dogs. Had I know cancer would strike so quickly, I would have brought more dogs into our house so they could soak up Melvin vibes. But now with Doug, I realize that I am his link to all that. I am the connection from Doug to Melvin and Jake. And there are so many things about Doug that remind me of his brothers. My love is the link to them all.

There will be more decades of Melvin, because I carry him in my heart. His love, and life, and light, will always shine brightly in me. Melvin magic lives on.

A few years ago, I wrote a letter to Melvin’s first family. You can find it here.

I have said this before, I have hard time being anything but happy about Melvin. I didn’t spend a ton of time being angry at his life before me. I made a huge effort to not be angry when I was grieving his loss. Melvin personified (dogified?) joy every moment he was alive. I mean his tail got amputated and he came out of that surgery, on the stretcher, wagging his nubbin. He was ALL JOY, all the time. I worked really hard after he died, to not let anger become a part of our story.  There is a peace that has always washed over me when I see Melvin’s face. I hope that stays with me forever.

Ten years of Melvin in my heart. I’m blessed.

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Wild Kingdom.

Doug has never really shown interest in chasing squirrels.  He might see them and stare but for the most part, no. Obviously last spring through fall, he was on post-surgery tie down, so much more so, nope to squirrels.

This year, Doug is pretty aware of the two squirrels (they have lived just behind our fence for YEARS and I named them Breakfast and Dinner because Jake used to hunt them 24/7, even in his sleep) who use our yard as a dumping ground for acorn shells and squirrel germs. Doug doesn’t hunt them like Jake, he is much more of the: I shall chase after them but hopefully I don’t catch them because they could be violent or be concealing a weapon.

He will see them from the couch, and sometimes forget he’s inside as he goes to chase after them. Almost always, they will see him (whether he is inside or outside) and do a freeze with a look that says, you are way less scary than the dog before you, and then they will take off. If Doug is outside, sometimes he thinks, I guess, that he can jump over our 7-foot fence. He however, cannot.

Where dat squirrel at? IMG_7106

It’s all fun.  If a squirrel drops anything in its efforts to escape, Doug, true story, will go locate said item (an acorn) and bring it inside as an extra FU.  I just love having acorns in my house with squirrel saliva all over them.

So to recap, squirrels = friends/playful.

Move over to the driveway side of the house, where Boy Bob (Bob 2) taunts Doug with his meowing. Doug is way more aware of that window now and he polices it pretty regularly. Recently I noticed that Bob’s food bowl was being taken over by ants so in true crazy person mode, I googled ant-less feeding solutions.  Found a few and I’ve been outside setting up some of those fixes, along with a new condo for Boy Bob to take a break from the elements. My being out there makes Doug even more aware of the Boy Bob situation.

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Well this week, a crow has taken up residence in our driveway area.  I have never once, in seven years here, seen a crow.  So it makes sense that the first one to move in, moves into our yard. Apparently the crow thinks the condo and food bowl are his. Or hers. I don’t know crow gender. Let’s call him S/he.  So this giant food thief is always lurking. This has not gone unnoticed by Doug. There is nothing, NOTHING, that Doug flips out more over than this crow. I don’t know if they know each other from the streets of  South Carolina or what, but Doug sits at the window like a scarecrow and comes to life horror movie style when the crow arrives. I have yet to catch it on film because the home camera does not pick up that window and if I’m home, I’m just trying to avoid having the crow fly into our house via a suddenly broken window.

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To maintain my sanity on this issue, I do pretend that Doug is defending Boy Bob’s condo and food. It’s the story I plan to tell the window replacement company.

A cart dog road off with my heart.

A rescue that I volunteer for, recently had a situation where a younger dog was starting to experience what Jake went through when we first realized he had a spine issue. This dog started losing use of his legs and in a panic, the owner felt they were unable to care for the dog and they reached out to this rescue to take him. The rescue responded and started having discussions with the owner.  They told them they were absolutely open to taking the dog, and behind the scenes, a foster was being lined up. The owner was understandably upset – spine symptoms can hit suddenly and there was the added emotion of having to give the dog up. The rescue made sure the family knew there was no rush, they were there if/when the family needed them.

Before I continue, all I know about this situation is: the family had a dog, the dog suddenly started to have mobility issues, the family panicked and reached out to rescue, rescue suggested a few things the vet should try (pain medication to start), the family and rescue touched base every day for about a week.

Here is what I do not know: what the feedback was from the vet, updates on that were from the owner, but from what the rescue could tell, it sounded so much like what Jake went through and that pain meds were helping.

Instead of surrendering the dog to rescue, the family choose to put the dog down. They told the rescue after they put him down, not before, when the rescue could have pleaded.

When Jake and I came to be, I had no idea he would start to become paralyzed a year later. I only knew he ran funny, his back legs would go in a circular motion when he was running. I just assumed that was how Frenchies rolled. Jake’s paralysis was destiny. There was nothing his first family or his forever family could have done to prevent it. I often wonder if I would have adopted Jake knowing he’d be or if he already was, paralyzed. It’s a hypothetical not worth dwelling on, because similar to Jake’s paralysis, he and Melvin and I, were also destined to be. One way or another, he was to rescue us.

Able body Jake, the day we met him. photo[2]

The day Jake’s legs suddenly gave out, panic is not even close to what I felt. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, I had no comprehension of all the terms the vet and neurologist were throwing out to me. I cried for so many different reasons. But the next day, we all got up, and we started figuring it out.

Wheels and diapers, check. IMG_1731IMG_4119

When I read the post that the family put the dog down, a lot of the air around me vanished. Everything started spinning and I had to sit down. My mind started going in so many directions. There was lack of comprehension and information. Grief showed up out of nowhere and gut punched me and my hands became desperate to reach for Jake again. To scream how grateful I was that his first family gave up on him before they had any sort of reason to put him down. The only thing worse than a life that is now without Jake, is a life that never knew him.

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I don’t know this family’s story. I only know our story. Our story is about dog named Jake and the family that he made whole. When Jake’s legs gave out that winter morning, I am not the only one who panicked. Jake looked to both Melvin and I when his legs were swimming and Melvin was the first one to make it over to him. He used his nose and front paws to stand behind Jake and push on him so he wasn’t losing footing. I then picked him up. My little family at is absolute finest.

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Caring for Jake was one of the hardest roles I’ve ever had. Frustration came knocking daily. Life threw a lot of obstacles in Jake’s way, but we said to every one of them:

Move bitch, get out da way“. (Ludacris)

Special needs dogs are not for everyone.  And that is ok. But they are absolutely for someone. Jake widened my patience. He taught me about resilience. He gave me the most incredible purpose. Every obstacle, was an opportunity to find solution. We never gave up.

He wasn’t broken, he was perfect.

My bond with Jake is strong and tough and fierce – forever.  I’m sad that family made the decision that they did, because that dog would have saved a person he was meant for. The same way Jake saved me.

xoxo

 

May Day.

It has been a little too busy over here. I am helping out with some extra projects at work so that is one part of it, our roof decided to give up 7 years into existing so when it rained ALL week last week, it did so outside AND inside.

Here are some highlights as we call ‘uncle’ on May!

  • Doug met a few ‘potentials’. It turned out they were only potentials for me. Doug hated them. Thus, we met with a new trainer, who I really like.  In the past I have worked with trainers on his need to mouth feet, or my need to be able to encourage him from wild to place. This trainer is going to help us get Doug back to being more comfortable with play dates and hopefully then, a housemate. I will do a separate post on this.
  • I don’t think Bob #1 is with us anymore. She could have relocated, we had a surge of feral cats this spring so maybe she found a new gang to run with. I have not seen her in several months. She is chipped to me and I have not gotten any phone calls so, who knows. We wish that vixen all the best.
  • Bob #2 is a regular. Last night I pulled into the driveway and he was in our bushes.  I stood in the garage to see if he would come up to his bowl and he did. Every time a bird flew by or there was a noise, he would flinch. I guess that is the life of a feral cat. After he ate he took a little siesta on the driveway and even though I’m deathly allergic and he is just generally terrified, I think he knows I’m the provider of food. Also, I love him. IMG_9524

 

  • This spring is so much better than last spring for Doug! Last year at this time we were a few weeks into Doug’s first surgery. This year, Doug owns his yard like a boss. He chases the squirrels out of it, he digs for moles (I could live without this), he makes sure his jolly balls get the attention they deserve and then he lays down on every soft surface, except the dog chaise I bought for him.IMG_9396

 

  • To add to the awesomeness of Doug’s life, he has graduated from being in the mudroom when I am gone to having access to the main floor of the house. I slowly gave him more freedom and he has done really great with it all.  The first few days he sat and stared at the door like a statue, but somewhere around day 5 he realized he could do what all other dogs do when their humans are way – lick his parts and nap.IMG_9363

 

  • Melvin and Jake continue to send me songs and beautiful sunsets. And Doug and I continue to help dogs in need so that their #loveliveson .

Have a wonderful week!

 

 

Who runs the world? Moms.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms! To the hockey moms, the dog moms, the new moms, the grand-moms.  To the male moms, the single moms, the families with more than one mom moms. To the cheer moms, the carpool moms, the dance moms. To the moms that gave birth and to the moms who open their doors to children in need. To the working moms, the stay-at-home moms and the do-whatever-is-necessary moms. To the worry-they-have-no-idea-what-they-are-doing moms. To the moms of one and the moms of many. To the moms setting a better example for their kids, than what was set for them. To the moms preparing to become moms.

To the moms who have lost a child. I won’t pretend to have the words.

To those who have lost their moms. I wish you strength as memories sneak or flood in.

Moms rule this universe. A mom created your beating heart and then (hopefully) filled it with love and confidence and joy and understanding.

To my mom, you taught me the meaning of true, unconditional love. It’s the foundation of my beautiful life.

To Max, Melvin, Jake, Bob(s) and Doug, being your mom, is my everything. You are my joy.

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Good Dog.

I know I share a lot of challenges about Doug.  Some I share so that others know that the struggle is real here too. Some are just funny.  Mostly, it’s just reality, right? Kids are way harder dogs, but raising dogs is something new every day too.  Both journeys are everything that love is about though.

Doug was handful from day one. He was every bit as spastic as Melvin was, but having Melvin didn’t automatically train me for Doug. Doug was energetic, Doug was not down with any helpful commands, but the worst part was, he mouthed my feet, 24/7.

Doug is now none of those things. Yes, he is energetic, and there are spastic moments, but that is also, just Doug. He and I have come a long way and there has been a lot of joint compromise.

There is now, mostly good. I mean, can’t we all claim that?  I’m mostly good too!

  • Doug greets the day with an exuberance that most will never be able to replicate. He springs from bed into a zoomie manuerver that takes him down the steps and out the door in about 3 seconds flat! He reminds me every morning that we are chasing joy.
  • Doug loves to eat. He loves food more than zoomies. But he has never once barked to be fed, and on days when we had to withhold food, he never showed me any punishment.
  • I taught him leave it. It is how I got him to stop destroying my feet. He knows leave it no matter what the situation is.  I have complete confidence in Doug and that command.
  • He never marked in the house. He had a few accidents at the start but who cares about that.
  • He is GREAT in the car. He loves car rides but just in general, he is calm and happy no matter how long the journey.
  • He does not beg.  He will stare at you with the intensity of a fiery hot sun. And he will drool.  But he will not try to take food or invade your eating space.
  • If i put him in the mudroom, or when he had to be crated after surgery, he never fought back on that. He goes in and waits to be let out.
  • He will stop anything and everything he is doing if I raise the volume on my voice and calmly say, absolutely not.
  • He sleeps 10+ hours a night. I’m not even joking about this.
  • He is not all that verbal. He’s more interested visually in what’s outside the window than he is to bark about it. He barks if he hears a noise that startles me and he barks like crazy at Bob #2.
  • He loves people.  Like he wiggles and wags and smiles and froths and very few people are nervous to meet him.  The ones who are mostly just worry his exuberance might result in them falling over.
  • He knows all the drills. When the doorbell rings, he has to go into the office. When I say bed, he goes upstairs and gets into his bed. When I say dinner, he breaks down all barriers to get to his bowl. He then sits and waits until it’s placed in front of him.
  • He knows go upstairs, go downstairs, get on your mat, go into your room (mudroom), go into office.
  • He knows sit, down, touch. He refuses to learn stay. Stay doesn’t translate to nuclear energy.
  • He never learned come but he did learn treat and now I use that to get him to where I need him to be.
  • He has moments when he has crossed over to hyper. When his face gets tight and his eyes get a little crazy. I say nap, and he goes to chill out for a little while.

He’s crazy. I am pretty sure he will always be a certain level of nuts.  That is who he is. But he’s also become a really, really, great dog.

I see so much of Melvin and Jake in him.  I know that what I see in him in those moments, is me. I am the common denominator.

I understand Doug and Doug understands me too.

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Stockholm syndrome.

You will recall that Doug did great with other dogs. All dogs. Even if a dog didn’t like him, Doug was in love with that sucker.

Then he had surgery and was not around other dogs, but when he was (at the surgeon and rehab), he was oddly very lungey. We chalked it up to pain, not being full strength and maybe a little lockdown pent up’ness. He was also attacked twice just before lockdown last year and that may play a factor.

If only he could talk.

Since coming off of restriction, he has been around dogs at Thanksgiving. My sister has two little dogs and I had Doug on a lead cause I was not sure how he would do and I didn’t want him to think they were what smelled so good (it was the Turkey).  He did fine. This was at my parents house.

We have since started meeting dogs again. Mamma wants more dogs. Doug does not seem 100% on board with that idea.  The dogs are ok if they are met on a walk. Walking near each other and even sorta side by side, is OK. What he does not seem to deem ok any longer is a dog heading into our yard or house. The moment Doug realizes this is a home turf visit, he turns and become very vocal and lunges like a damn disco queen.

He also seems to do this intense stare thing that other dogs do not enjoy in the slightest. He does this to me sometimes and I start to feel like food. The thing is, I don’t think he knows he is doing it. His eyes are intense and he has them open like the rest of us but when we look towards something it’s ‘seeing’ and when Doug does the same it is ‘staring with the intensity of a thousand hot suns’.

We met a bulldog and the moment I met her I was already picking out her first five Sirius Republic collars.  The dogs were fine on a walk, They came inside and Doug apparently felt like she was a huge threat to the couch cause he went nuts on her and she was like F you, no you didn’t just lunge at me. 

So fun!

So…a wonderful follower of the blog, Jodi, reached out to a wonderful trainer in our area and we have our first appointment next week. She will (hopefully) help Doug get back to being Doug and then she will help us do meet and greets with other dogs.

Wooohhooooooo!

The foster mom of the lady Bulldog mentioned to me that Doug seemed ‘very fond of’ me. We may have a bit of Stockholm Syndrome and perhaps Doug has bonded too much with the person who held him captive for five months last year. I am trying to be less wonderful so that he feels like he can branch out and like his species again but it is really hard for me to be anything less than lovable.

We are a work in progress. Happy weekend!

Doug: I love my mom. 54342NNhol112204-R4-057-Edit

Doug: But not as much as Becky. IMG_7287