Cones and More Cones

Each foster comes with their own challenges.  Maybe that is why I never feel like I know what I'm doing.  Just once it would be nice to have a repeat situation so I could say AH HA!  I know what to do.  But, noooooo...not the case.

Buddy was our first experience with kennel cough and thankfully that is over. He throws in a very occasional wheeze just to remind me how bad he was and how far he has come.  Now the challenge is cleaning up his skin conditions. He has been sporting a cone of horror for some time now.

We've tried the soft cone, which has one nice perk, he can get in and out of the doggy door with it.  It takes some work, and is pretty amusing, but can be done.

We've tried the inflatable cone.  He tried the doggy door with that one on, but was rejected over and over.  Poor Buddy was seriously confused.

We even have tried the basic plastic cone.  No go on the doggy door with this option.  We've even tried the plastic cone with the inflatable cone behind it. Now I do have a photo of that.  But Buddy begged me to spare him that indignity.  I told him if he is good I won't share it.  

Here is the deal.  If he wants to work on his hot spots he finds a way around the cone.  Itchy foot, pick it up and move it within range.  Itchy flank, stretch and you can just get to it.  It helps 90% of the time, but that 10% is an epic fail.

Isn't that the way it goes?  We try and we try.  Baby steps forward and then a few big steps backward. So we back up the bus and try to find a new route. It's not easy, but love pushes us through.

For Buddy it means more experiments and a closet full of various cones. Maybe there is a cone manufacturer out there who'd like to donate a cone we have not tried yet. Let Buddy be your independent testing panel. For me I want a cone that gives him full vision, is doggy door flexible and automatically telescopes when it senses him going for an itchy spot. Is that too much to ask?  Maybe, but a girl can dream. I dream of a healthy dog casting off those cones of horror.  One of these days he will.     

Spring?

Yesterday we worked in the yard in shorts, cooked hot dogs over the campfire and savored the warmth and sunshine.  Today we are back to sweatshirts, have a fire in the fireplace and soup on the stove.  Some call it Spring, some just say typical Nebraska weather.  Yesterday was all about work, and today is all about rest.

Now the dogs approach it a bit differently.  Except for our hikes, their mission was resting in a cool place, in the shade, under the deck or on the cool wood floors. Today their mission is resting in a warm place like the bed, sofa or recliner. I see a pattern here.  Sure hope one of them makes room for me on the sofa, the bed or the recliner as I sure won't fit under the deck.

I have to wonder what it's like to be a dog in our house sometimes.  Maybe they think they have won the lottery.  Frankly, we think we have too.  Mick probably rolls eyes at the parade of dogs that have come into our lives, took up temporary residence and then moved on. He is especially thankful for the moving on part.  

I have to laugh whenever someone says "how many dogs do you have now?" 
Sometimes (rarely) the answer is only two.  Most often it is only three.  A few times it was only five.  Crazy is such a relative term that I don't even think of myself as a crazy dog lady any more.  Just a dog lady.  And I consider it a compliment.

In case you were wondering...Buddy is settling in well.  We hear a very occasional wheeze from him.  Still working on itchy skin issues and he spends most of his day in the dreaded cone of horror.  Mind you the cone is covered in duct tape as he barges through the doggy door cone and all.  You gotta love his fortitude!  We take the cone off for walks in the field and talk about one happy chappy.  

He is our first foster to destroy a crate.  Not bad for all the years we have been helping the dogs.  Thankfully, the mudroom/dog run provide a safe option for a guy who doesn't like to be crated.  He is a grand old guy and someone will be lucky to share their days with him.  Until that time comes we're the lucky ones.

So...on this wintery Spring day, as we listen to thunder in the distance and know we'll likely see some snow flakes later in the day, I wish you a dogs life. Safe and happy, warm and cozy, with a friend to take walks with and a soft spot to land.  

Oldies But Goodies

Owning it is the first step.  I like gray faces, muzzles, eye brows and paws... I like the old dogs.  They rock.  They are game and gimpy, great and gracious, goofy and gorgeous.  Right now we have two old boys in house.  One a forever boy and one a foster boy.  Ages 13 and 9.  Bet they could tell some stories. Even at their ages I sometimes have trouble keeping up with them.

Not that I don't like puppies, I do.  Especially when they are sleeping.  Okay, mainly when they are sleeping.  They are delightful to cuddle with.  But an old guy?  Mostly he just needs a gentle hand to make his world. Give him a soft bed, a sunny spot and life is good.

We had a potential adopter recently suggest a full adoption fee for a dog who's life was half over didn't make sense.  Frankly I think that "adopter" didn't freaking make sense.  I think he was an ________(fill in the blank). It's okay, don't hold back.

Unless you are loving an old dog.  Then never, ever hold back.  One moment of bliss with an old guy is priceless.  Old guys can stir up the mischief too. Mischief knows no age.  Nor does love. 

Some day we'll be the oldies.  Hell, maybe we already are.  Come to think of it I like soft beds, gentle hands and a sunny spot to sit in.  I fuss a bit about the gray hair, and look closely for any whiskers, gray or otherwise.  I don't mind a little soft snoring.  From me or the dogs.  Give me an old dog, or two...please.  Life is good.



  

It Takes All Kinds

Will all the dogs we've fostered over the years this is our first one with kennel cough. It's not a laughing matter, but we have found some humor in it. The coughing and hacking was intense when Buddy arrived. I'd bring him to work with me just to keep an eye on him. Several of my coworkers thought he was a goner. Pretty sure they were appalled. I felt the need to explain to my customers that no one was expiring in the design room.  Although I did keep thinking I'd be stepping on lung that was coughed up in the process. Giving him Robitussin was a challenge, until I got the soft gel tablets.  Even then he has a knack for opening the tablet and discarding it. Somehow he gets the medicine, so I don't care how he does it. His cough is better now, just some episodes of wheezing these days. 

Because of the coughing, hacking and wheezing, we've affectionately begun calling him Buddwheezer.  It fits this old dude. Could be worse.  We could call him Buddgeezer.  He's older, but not really a geezer.  Lucky for him.

No matter their issues, idiosyncrasies, personality, their sense of character, and Lord knows we've had some characters, we fall in love with them. Perhaps it's the investment of care, the nurturing we do, the affection we exchange with them. Perhaps it's because they are so lovable and have been unloved. Maybe it's because no two fosters are alike.  Each is a gift of the unknown.  It takes all kinds and they are all kinds of amazing.  

So Buddwheezer would like you to know he's feeling much, much better.  It's a relief for us to know he's more comfortable.  And a blessing to not look for lungs on the floor when walking near him.  It takes all kinds and Buddy takes the cake.  

Welcome To The Good Life

The state slogan here is Nebraska the Good Life.  For a nine year old pointer named Buddy so it is.  

Buddy joined the Great Plains Pointer Rescue fold recently and today took up residence with us as a new foster. He's an older dude who deserves a cushy existence.  He was a hunting dog lost afield.  When he was found his owner had moved out-of-state and didn't want him back.  I know I can think of several names for people like that...can't you?

Here is the deal, Buddy is a bit of a crusty old boy with mast cell tumors, irritated skin, and he just got neutered.  His whole world changed, he lost his jewels and he's trying to find a way to settle in.  Life is like that sometimes, we're irritated, we've been altered and we don't know where to settle.

Our job is to help him do just that. Good news is that his tumors are low grade and have clean margins. That means Buddy will be healthy enough to enjoy that forever home when it finds him. 

Until then, he's with us. He has some learning to do to appreciate the finer things in life, like living indoors, soft blankets, warmth and nourishment.  And while I would like to have some words with his former owner, I believe I'd begin them with gratitude. By not wanting him back, he gave Buddy a second chance for happiness. So he wasn't a complete moron, but very close.   

Prayers/Wishes/Dreams

I can distinctly remember saying someday I want a job where I can take my dog to work with me. Maybe I prayed that, maybe it was a wish.  Sometimes those things are one in the same.  It came to pass, prayer answered.

I remember saying/praying/wishing that when my kids were young I could only work part time.  And I did, even when divorce challenged me to work full time. I also remember saying that after they were out of school I'd work my ass off. That one came true too. It's okay for that part to ease up a little. Just sayin.

I know we wished/prayed/dreamed for a place with some land for the dogs to enjoy. Never realizing how much we would love it too.

I remember thinking how nice it would be to have professional pictures taken with one of my dogs. I wanted it, but not enough to make it happen. But happen it did thanks to belonging to K-9's & Friends Therapy Dogs and the good people at Lad Photography. 

Another prayer/wish/dream come true.  But, and there is always a but, I admit to struggling with that whole timing thing.  Don't you?  I see some prayers answered, and know there are others still clearly in the works. I know they have been heard. Lord knows because I've not been shy in asking repeatedly for them.  Most frustrating are the ones I pray for others.  I can wait, but I don't want my loved ones to have to wait.  So maybe if I ask nice once again we can speed up that process.

Or not.  So I count the blessings of prayers/wishes/dreams answered.  And I wait. Knowing I must be in good company in this struggle.  I'm not alone, and answers are coming.

Dogs and Dessert

Dogs and dessert....what an odd combination. You're thinking she has clearly lost it. Post Valentines insanity.  A sugar high gone wrong.  A dogged loss of her natural grip on reality.

I think not.  I'm thinking of some of the sweeter things in life, so naturally dogs and dessert come to mind.  Both take time.  Case in point the wonderful dessert that Reno made for me.  Decadent chocolate cake made mostly with eggs, butter and cocoa.  A champagne sauce with whipped cream, eggs, and more butter. A mango puree sauce. Raspberries, blackberries, blueberries.  All layered in a mind boggling trifle. No he's not a chef by trade.  He is an adventurous cook. It didn't come out quite like the picture, but the flavor is sublime. I learned he knows more about double boilers than I do.  Let me say this publicly.  He was right.  For the record...yes, he was right.  Makes his day when I say those words.  I can grovel and he can gloat.  Makes for a happy marriage.

Good things take time...like dessert, wine, quilts, good books, fishing, gardening, relationships and yes, dogs.  Time and loving.  

Several friends are grieving the loss of furry friends.  Some have new paws to love. Others are opening their hearts to new fosters. It takes time to grow to love them. Mere seconds, or a bit longer in some cases.  It's hard to let them go.  We crave the sweetness and want it to last.  In all cases we must savor both the moment and later the memory. Much like a good dessert.