In Memory

On December 31, 2010 my heart dog Jojo left this life. He was diagnosed with lymphoma and, when it became clear that he faced nothing but more suffering, his family elected to have him euthanized. You can read about Jojo in the first entry in this blog. Let it suffice here simply to say that he and I had a very close and very special relationship.

He came as a puppy to my daughter Kelly and her family at Christmastime in 2003. At the time my grandchildren, Hannah and Jordan, were in elementary school and it was my pleasure to go to their house in the morning and help them get ready for school after their parents went to work. I made sure Jojo got a good long walk and, as often as not, took him spend the day with me until it came time to meet the afternoon school bus. He spent at least as much time with me as he did with his family.

I realized he was a very special dog when, as a pup, he watched me replace a kitchen faucet. I had cleared out all the cleaning supplies under the sink and was lying on my back, half in/half out of the cabinet, balancing a flashlight while fiddling with the plumbing connections. Jojo walked into the cabinet and sat down beside my head and looked up at what I was doing. He would watch my work for a bit, then look down at me, then back up at the plumbing. He showed such intelligence and curiosity that I found myself explaining to him what I was doing. There we were, as my son Brady later said, me with my "micro manager" fixing the plumbing.

Jojo was the smartest dog in the world and, when he approached doggie puberty, became quite headstrong. I asked Kelly if I could take him to obedience training and for six weeks we spent Thursday nights learning how to behave...both of us. Our instructor, Shade Whitesel, showed Jojo and me how to work together instead of butting heads, and Jojo became a very cooperative and gentle companion. We went on to complete an intermediate course in obedience with Shade, and then Hannah and I took Jojo and Elky (my Cardi who had joined us by then) through a beginning agility class.

I had the opportunity to spend the better part of a day with Jojo and Hannah before his death. He came to me and let me brush him and love on him, and it was clear that he didn't have much time left: he was weak, but still bright eyed and affectionate. I lay on the floor with him and just loved him, and my tears flowed.

A Buddhist monk once told me that animals can be great teachers. I learned from Jojo the joy of giving and receiving unconditional love, and to pay more attention to others' needs. Jojo confirmed for the the value of enthusiasm, pure enthusiasm at being alive. Knowing him has made me a better person, of this I am absolutely sure. I grieve his loss and am profoundly grateful that he came into my life. With Jojo there is no unfinished business: he lived and we loved like a clean bright flame.

Keep them doggies rollin'

Last Wednesday we drove and ferried up to Langley, WA to have Tassel fitted for this cart. As noted in earlier posts here on the dogs' blog, our pretty red & white girl has a bad right knee. (You can see in this picture that she avoids putting weight on it.)

The good people at Pet Mobility & Rehab Center, spent a good hour with us, getting the cart adjusted, teaching us how best to get Tass acquainted with it, and generally making sure that we were fully equipped to deal with what will most likely be a steady decline in her ability to get around.

We are experimenting with solo and "both dogs" walks, bribes with treats, and off-leash meanderings in the back & front yards. The plan is to have her able to use it before it becomes absolutely necessary. She's not the happiest camper when lashed into her cart, but it looks like she'll get used to it before long.

Do Corgis shed?

Last evening I bathed the girls, hoping to remedy the increasingly 'doggy' smell in our environs. Neither pooch is very happy about bath time, but Elky, to whom all grooming constitutes torture, sulked and hid and, when finally dragged to the tub, stared at me with her shocked and injured look. For reasons that escape me, this week both dogs are (in the parlance of Corgi people) "blowing coat."

Corgis have what's called a double shedding coat. Contrary to all the supporting evidence, this does not mean that Corgis shed twice as much as other dogs. It's a technical term that distinguishes dogs with a certain kind of hair: some dogs, like Poodles, have hair that is like the wool on a sheep: it just continues to grow and grow. I don't think they ever shed. Corgis, and many other dogs, have two kinds of hair: stiff guard hairs and a much finer, softer undercoat. They shed more or less continually during the year, but on special occasions (known only to themselves) they shed 98% of their undercoat. Dog show people refer to this as "blowing coat." If this were a competitive event, Corgis would take the gold every time, hands down.

This link will give you an idea:

http://www.terenelf.com/SpockShedding/Shedding.html

So last night it was shampoo and conditioner rinse for the Elky girl, who has been looking increasingly shaggy and dull. The hair came off in handfuls...and this morning I sat down with her (that is to say I sat down on her) to see about brushing some of the remainder out before it got all over the house. (Corgi hair shows up everywhere...it may be their attempt at immortality: I have no doubt it will drift merrily around this house long after the dogs and I have shuffled off our mortal coils.) I bribed her with kibbles while filled a plastic grocery bag with what I removed with a comb. Then I ran the vac over the rug where I had her cornered, and got another bag full.

One would think this coat blowing business would happen in the spring, which it does, when dogs no longer need their undercoat to keep them warm. One would not expect it to happen in the late summer...but I'm still learning how surprising these girls can be.

Whose woods these are....

Across our dirt road is a 40 acre patch of woods, one of several parcels that constitute The Grand Forest of Bainbridge, according to the sign at the crossroads, and thus technically owned by the city. Happily, they are the least used and virtually undeveloped section, and when Tassel, Elky, and I walk there every day we almost always have them to ourselves. And so we have come to think of them as our own.

On a sunny morning the light streams in under the high canopy, brightening little spots along the trail. Here are some photos I took today while the girls explored "our" woods.

Monks and dogs

We had visitors from California this week: Rev. Master Kinrei Basis, prior at the Berkeley Buddhist Priory (left) and Rev. Master Seikai Luebke, assistant prior at Pine Mountain Buddhist Temple, stopped in for a couple days on their way north to visit fellow monks in the Order of Buddhist Contemplatives in Canada. Elky and Tassel soaked up lots of affection and I think if they'd have fit into Rev. Seikai's luggage he might just have taken them with him.

We had glorious patio-living weather and a good time was had by all.

That's why they call 'em bitches....

The sweet dog beside the flowers, though you wouldn't know it, has learned to drive her anxious companion (lurking in the doorway) to distraction when it comes to mealtime. The routine goes something like this:

1. Take Elky into the laundry room and closes the door, leaving Tass in the den.

2. Refill water bowl and prepare the kibble.

3. Give Elky her bowl and hurry out the door, hopefully closing it before Elky devours her kibble. Listen to Elky start to whine.

4. Put Tassel's bowl down near the back door (about where Elky is sitting in the photo).

5. Go back and let Elky out of the laundry room and keep her from charging Tassel's bowl. (Tassel at this point is standing at her bowl, but not eating.)

6. Put Elky in the next room so Tass can have her breakfast in peace.

The problem is that Tassel shows little interest in her food unless Elky is staring at the bowl from 4 or 5 feet away. (Closer than that and we have an intense interlude of the snarly-growlies, which I discourage.) Tass wanders away from the bowl, seemingly in search of her antagonist, and will often return to it only when it looks/sounds like I'm about to release Elky the kibble-hoover from her mealtime confinement.

And I swear there are times when Tass seems to bait Elky the Tapeworm; it goes like this: I put E in a down-stay beside my chair in the dining room, say, while we wait for Tass to dine in the den. Elky grudgingly holds the stay, though she remains ever vigilant for my attention to lapse, whereat she sneaks around the corner to see if there might be a morsel left in T's bowl. Tassel leaves her bowl to come peek around the corner at Elky. Elky stirs and gets a "no!", and Tass hurries back to her bowl. Rinse & repeat several times until either Tass has inadvertently eaten her kibble or I have become exasperated and set her bowl aside until dinner time.

What a soap opera....

There goes the flat screen TV...and other musings

Just wrote a $1400 check to my credit card company for Elky's vet bills. Needless to say, we won't be getting that sexy new flat screen hi-def digital TV that I was lusting after. Here's what I told Ellen when I wrote her a periodic update on the doggies:

Ellen & Marv, just a quick doggie update. We're all fine now, but we had a scary few days there when Elky was hospitalized with hemmorhagic gastroenteritis. The vet says they don't really know what brings on this condition (prolonged gastric upset, vomiting, diarrhea, dehydration) but I think it was due to gobbling crumbs of suet and birdseed that the large woodpecker spilled onto the ground below the feeder. Whatever the cause, our Elky girl was a sick puppy for about 5 days, and for 2 of those was kept overnight on i.v. fluids.

She had been sick for three days and, even after I put her on a very bland diet (boiled rice and poached chicken breast) she didn't seem to be getting better. Glad I took her in: the emergency vet (these things always seem to happen on a weekend) said she was seriously dehydrated, and that she was in pretty serious danger of sepsis due to the condition of her bowel. You know how vocal Elky normally is. She had gotten very quiet and subdued and very listless, so it was obvious this was no ordinary tummy trouble. I'm very relieved to report that she's back to 100% now: barking at the TV, at the evil UPS truck that delivers her kibble, at the dangerous children walking to the bus stop, at me when I'm mixing up her kibble, etc. etc. And she has regained the contagious bounce in her stride as she and Tass lead me down to the woods for their morning walk.

Do you find her to be a very serious dog? She seems to be intent on everything she's doing, and I swear she looks at each walk as a major career move: she's completely absorbed, totally concentrating. Tass and I are often 30 yards down the trail ahead of her because she's stopped to study some smell or other, and then she comes racing to catch up. Tassel, on the other hand, is happy-go-lucky Miss Relaxed. Aside from her penchant for staying at the head of the pack, she seems much more light-hearted in her enjoyment of the outing. If I stop for some reason, she politely waits for me 10 yards up the trail, her tail wagging as she watches me to see that I'm not going off on another route or something. If I say her name or just talk to her, she trots happily back for a skritch, and then goes back to resume her position. She will stand there and soak up being petted and loved on, while Elky barely tolerates it. It's as if she's got important work to do and is impatient to be off and doing it.

When we're inside it's sometimes a completely different story. Joanna has put a quilt over the hassock/foot stool where I sit to keep the dog hair off, and Elky loves to jump up there and lie between my feet and rest her head on one of my legs. Joanna says I'm turning her into a lap dog, but I think Elky's really too independent ever to go that far. But she likes her cuddles on her own terms. For example: early morning is my meditation time, and this occurs after I take the dogs out for their early potty break. I sit on a low kneeling bench and a padded mat. Both dogs come to greet me and get a skritch when I'm settling into position, and then Tassel normally wanders off to her heated bed we got for her hip problems. Elky stays there in front of me with her head in my lap in perfect position for me to give her skritches with both hands. This goes on for five minutes or so and then she either lies there snoring through my meditation or walks off to join Tass on the cozy bed. She trots along beside or behind me whenever I'm in the middle of a chore, going to get the mail, take out the recycling, etc, and she sits and the entrance to the kitchen and watches me while I'm cooking. She usually snores beside me when I'm reading or working on the computer. It may be that she figures I'd wander off into the street if not for her constant vigilance...maybe that's part of her job.

Tassel will follow us outside, but when she sees we're only going to the mailbox she stands at the top of the driveway and waits, ears erect and her tongue protruding that silly half-inch that it does when she's concentrating on something. As I write this I note that we just returned from the mailbox: she waited at the top of the driveway and, when Ekly trotted back toward the house with me, did her ambush tactic to get some playful wrestling on the way to the front door. Tassel has taken it upon herself to closely monitor the chipmunk that took up residence under the outdoor storage box where I keep (and usually spill) the birdseed. If Elky is intent on my every move, Tassel is doubly so when it comes to this little guy. She stands and stares into the narrow space between the box and the house, then trots to the other end of the box where it is pushed up against the chimney.

Tass is our protector: no pedestrian or hiker makes it down our road without a sober and prolonged warning from her. No car door closes within a block without her disapproval. She is as intent on our protection as Elky is on supervising my every move.

Well, the trillium are in bloom in the woods across our road and the starflowers aren't far behind. And when we've had a day without rain, it makes for a very pleasant place for walking, despite all the fallen trees we have to scramble across. You're welcome any time to come for tea and time with the girls. Hope the spring is going the way you like it.

Jim