Veterinary Woes

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Figure 8's, a path to test
Which one of us runs the best
              UNTIL
A hole, a twist, or a tree
Stands between that fun and me
   

Within the last year, my two furry children have decidedly made my life more challenging as well as costly.  Last October, I wrote about Emma who developed a genetic cataract in her right eye.  This prompted taking her first to our vet and then to a veterinary ophthalmologist an hour and a half away from our home.  Remember we live in a rural area of Virginia, and everything is an hour and a half away.  What followed was an expensive cataract operation, medication and treatment.  We still transport her periodically to the specialist for checkups, and eyedrops remain on her daily schedule. 

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In addition, Kiowa recently presented us with his own medical issue.  I guess he didn’t want to be left out.  One day as usual, both grey kids were let out in the backyard to do their stuff.  Instead of concentrating on business, they began running around like maniacs.  (Who with a greyhound doesn’t understand this phenomenon.) Half way into it, Kiowa exploded with a blood-curdling scream.  Not a little cry, you understand, but a loud wrenching howl.  Back inside, I gave him a pain med and iced his leg.  (This boy is such a baby that I never know if the injury is really serious        or not.)  

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The next day, Kiowa’s leg ballooned. Visiting my local vet, they x-rayed his leg and prescribed anti-inflammatory medication.  The x-rays being inconclusive, I kept him quiet and gave him his medication.  The next week after the swelling went down, he was still hopping around so another appointment at the vet became necessary.   At his visit, the doctor discovered a definite problem.  The part of his rear back leg (known as the hock or metatarsal) showed a break in the bone which correlates to the top of a human foot.  The next step (so to speak) brought us face to face with a veterinary orthopedist (an hour and 45 minutes away) who recommended surgery. 

Why am I here?

Kiowa tends toward the art of the accident.  The last time he hurt himself, he ran into a tree in the backyard at night.  Why he was running around (yep, again) at that time in the evening still has me baffled.  He issued a wretched screech, and when brought in, had blood oozing from his nose.  Again, with the ice.  I iced his nose and cleaned the other wound on his forehead.  Of course, it was Sunday and at night, but luckily, my vet was on-call.  His last comment after our conversation was, “So much for him being a sighthound.”

  

I WANT OUT!

Now back to the present story.  Kiowa’s surgery, scheduled for the following week, brought new experiences to our lives.  He needed to be at the hospital between 8 and 8:30 the morning of surgery and needed to be picked up the following day.  We decided to stay overnight so picking him up would be easier.  On the day of surgery, the dogs, my husband and I left the house around 6:15 in the morning.  We dropped him off and were told that they would call us upon prepping him for surgery.  They finally called at 2:30, but he didn’t get into surgery until 4.  Here I thought that he would be in surgery early since he was there at 8 am!  (I know I like a doctor to be well rested before doing a procedure on me.) Oh, well, the best laid plans… 

Emma seems confused

Surgery went well, and we picked him up the next day accompanied by two pages of post-op care.  OMG!  After reading them, my blood pressure must have escalated.  I’m a pretty good nurse for my animals, but all the directions made me extremely nervous.  He had to be activity restricted for eight weeks, cold compresses the first week, warm compresses the second week, and three medications twice daily.  In addition to all of that, we still had to get him home without an injury to the affected leg.  I sat in the back seat the entire way home continuously reminding him to lie down.  It was not a pleasant trip.  

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Two weeks have passed since surgery, and Kiowa is recuperating well.   The veterinary orthopedist had to place a plate and screws into his leg to stabilize it.  The incision is very clean although quite long, and he recently got his sutures removed.  He placed his injured foot down very soon after surgery, and so far, there is no limp when he walks. Except for the time spent in his crate, he seems happy.        

Needless to say, I have spent a ton of money on my babies this year.  Our previous dogs have never suffered these types of expensive ailments or injuries so I guess these two are making up for the others.  The question of buying animal health insurance comes up when things like this occur.  If these two dogs continue to follow their existing paths, I guess I will have to consider the option.

Sleepy time, but still confused

I love my dogs, and I want the best possible care for them.  I guess saying that, these unexpected costs are just part of their package.  After all, the love and laughter they give to us comes without any strings.  Maybe in my next life, my career choice should reflect my love of pets and my pocketbook, like maybe, I should become a veterinarian.

A Lucky End Game

Flying

So when was your end planned?  You were oblivious, but those around you knew how things were playing out.  They knew what the end game was.  Do you think they cared?  Oh, maybe some did, but to the rest you were just a number to be exploited.  You were taught to toe the line.  Your play was work, but you didn’t know any better.  They told you what to do, and you did it.  Yeah, and how did that work out for you? 

They're off!

Playing was running, and boy, could you do that.  People say you had wings for feet, but those wings can do a nose dive when you’re not producing.  You squeezed into a box on a track, and when that door opened, you burst out.  You ran like your life depended on it, and it did.  But you ran for the sheer joy of the chase not for any accolade.  When you crossed that finish line you were a winner in your heart whether you came in first or last.  Unfortunately, others didn’t look at it that way.  They only saw the wins and the money.  You had a few chances to show your stuff, but if you didn't deliver, you were OUT.  Out of work, out of a home, out of food, and possibly out of a life.  How many of your siblings and friends got on that conveyor belt never to be seen again?  

Around the turn

You had a lot of time to contemplate these questions as you lay in your small sleeping area. For countless hours a day, you lay there.  Oh, they let you out for eating, play time and such but your life knew no spark…except to run.  Sometimes excitement filled the air, and everyone smelled the difference.  You escaped your space and, along with others, traveled to where the thrill given by your flight of feet produced loud cheering.  The change was fun, for a while, but the grind of repetition got old.  

Happy &...

Finally you heard them talking.  You had lost too many times.  Lost what?  Then, something changed.  They took you to a transport hauler, loaded you in with two others in the same space.  Bewilderment gripped you.  You felt terror, wonder, and unease.  The hauler stopped, doors opened, another vehicle and then a new place.  Anxiety heightened but curious, you felt kind hands bathing, feeding, and loving you while being readied for your next step.  

Goofy

I was your next step, my sweet greyhound.  And my job is to love you for the rest of your life.  

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Musing About My Muse

For a Writers’ Group prompt, we were to introduce our muse, our source of inspiration.  As I pondered my muse, it occurred to me that it lay directly in front of me on the floor, two sets of legs stretched upward in a cockroach position.  My greyhounds touch my heart everyday with their large brown eyes or one of their silly postures.  

Hearing the plight of the greyhound influenced my desire to adopt my first dog, but their endearing traits shaped my further adoptions (eight to this date).  Their sad story represents only a small part of what encourages greyhound adoption.  The dog itself tantalizes and then motivates action.  

My first dog sparked enthusiasm for involvement in greyhound rescue.  I bugged, cajoled, and probably wore my rescue contact down until organizing Meet & Greets once a month at a PetsMart became a passion.  Having to drive 45 minutes to the store solidified my purpose and working those M & G’s honed my greyhound knowledge.  Finally, a PetsMart in my town opened up, and I moved my operation.  

Talking about the dogs has never become old for me (and heaven knows, I can talk).  Moving to Virginia’s Eastern Shore and finding a rescue close enough to work with presented challenges, but with my dogs as a catalyst (and muse), I scaled that mountain.  Finding venues to showcase the dogs remain another hurdle, but the dogs continually energize me on their behalf.

As I became interested in writing and took classes, the continual pull to tell their story prompted many aspects of my writing.  Many of the pieces I write center on facets of the greyhound life as illustrated by this blog.  I do write about other things, but often, it just comes back to them.    

As I venture into my new interest of drawing, I find those long nosed, four legged creatures creeping onto the paper.  They just can’t stop.  They consume my waking hours, and refuse to take no for an answer.  Their lovable faces and cute posing cry out to be captured and deny silence.  It always seems to be about them. 

Writing this forced me to worry if something might be wrong with me.  The greyhound thing acts like an addiction that I just can’t give up.  This dedication to my dogs does sound a little scary, but I promise I don’t obsess about them all the time.  It only comes out when creative projects raise their barking heads (oops,there it goes again) or someone asks me about greyhounds.  So yes, my muse (or muses) are four long-legged, long nosed, cockroaching creatures, and they ignite the fire in my soul.

Balancing the Scale

Love for my greyhounds, or any greyhound come to think of it, does not exclude the other end of the spectrum - annoyance, agitation, or down right anger when my dogs exhibit insufficient cooperation.  We wrestle with the angst of our feelings when our sweet dogs show tendencies we do not like.  Love reveals itself as not a constant, but rather a sliding scale of ups and downs, and sometimes, our dogs, just like children, test its veracity.

Resting in the Keys

The love I feel for my dogs is full blown.  I adore them.  However, when my  boy, Kiowa, jumped on my expensive leather couch and nested using his sharp nails on the soft and supple leather, I have to say my love wavered.  Or when my girl, Emma, peed on the rug for the fifth time after she came to live with us,  I confess sending her back might have been on the table (only kidding, not really).  I expose this mixture of feelings due to the roller coaster effect that our unstable emotions play in all of our relationships.

What are we doing?  I'm ready!

Through the years, my dogs have tested the waters to see just how far I would let them swim.  After adopting our first greyhound, Cayman, and having no experience with dogs since childhood, I didn't realize that crating was the best way to approach confining a newly adopted dog. I showed my inexperience by allowing her unrestricted space.  She must have peed umpteen times on one certain area of the rug.  I remember sitting on the floor next to her, crying, and explaining that this was inappropriate behavior.  “I don’t pee inside when I want to annoy you, do I?”  RIGHT!  We bought a crate soon after, and she was fine.  However, when my husband one day, approached his tomato garden and found a rump, two rear legs, and a tail projecting out of the soft, brown earth, he questioned his loving feelings. 

Where are we going today?

The importance of experiencing our dogs as fallible creatures teaches us that it is OK to be annoyed with them.  The real dog falls short of the perfection molded into a statue or painting of a greyhound.  Our dogs make bad decisions just as people do.  The job of showing them how to behave falls to us.  We cannot blame them for our lack of guidance.

In Key West

If a dog exposes behaviors that you feel he should have already mastered, your job escalates to one of detective.  What appears as an act of defiance (I don’t know if a dog can feel defiant), could be triggered by a health issue.  A vet visit, then, tops the list as an instrument of your love.  Our dogs want to please us.  They show us through their behavior the depth and scope of their love.  If that behavior resists the norm, then we must detect the reason for it. 

To new adopters, if your dog has issues, guide him in simple ways to the preferred behavior.  Ask for help from your adoption group if you’re stumped.  They want to support you in any way they can.  And most of all, never give up on your greyhound.  Most greyhounds have fixable issues, and some have none at all.  Be guided by the people who know greyhounds. 

What?

View your emotions as a timeline.  We move forward in the love for     our dogs, then something occurs, and we move back a bit (not much).   As time goes by, our love continues in forward movement with small backward slides along the way.  These small annoyances just balance things out.  I love my greyhounds, and their flaws just make life interesting.  

An Exhausting Day

A "Key" Lesson

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Between Christmas and the New Year, my husband, Wayne, and I were visiting friends in Saratoga, NY.  During one of the less snowy days and having cabin fever, we ventured out to shop downtown taking the dogs with us. Upon leaving the first shop and looking toward our car, we froze.  My stomach sank as panic bubbled up inside me.  The back driver’s side door of our van stood wide open.  Our dogs were in the rear of the van, so luckily both were safe. This was not the first time we had discovered our van with an open door . 

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Almost 5 years before, we had been in Virginia Beach shopping and had taken the dogs.  We stopped at a popular furniture store on one of the main thoroughfares and locked the car before we entered.  After about 45 minutes, my husband sat down, tired from having to shop.  A little while later, an announcement came over the loud speaker looking for the owner of a gray van.  Sounding like it could be our van, he went out to investigate.  When he did not return, my stomach churning and my mind a blank, I followed.  Horror struck, I saw the hatch of our van WIDE OPEN.  And so began a terrifying journey that encompassed almost two days.

  

Kiowa showing off

Fix your ear, Emma

My husband routinely stores the car remote in his back pant’s pocket.  Somehow, the button that controls the hatch was pressed when he sat, opening it.  What followed seemed like a lesson in futility.  Our male greyhound, Rusty, was safe, but our female, Kazi, was GONE.  Where to look first?  We both reeled from the question, our thoughts jumbled.  The road in front of the store had eight lanes, and an intersecting road nearby had eleven,  Thoughts of what could happen to our dog left us weak in the knees .  We searched and searched, walking and driving the area the rest of the day, a black cloud over our efforts.  When darkness fell, we traveled back home with only one dog.  The ride, one of the most miserable trips I had ever experienced, was filled with dark thoughts worrying about our little dog.

Being exhausted from little sleep, we were on the road early the next morning to begin our search anew.  Our local greyhound rescue had worked up a poster which we distributed.  We called and visited animal shelters and animal control.   An announcement about Kazi was made on the radio, and people called us with sightings or just to help us search.  All this being done in the pouring rain which matched our moods completely.  We were at it until darkness fell, but, this time miraculously, she was found. 

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The range of the waves of a car remote can travel farther than you may think.   The remote can be triggered, and a door opened even if it is locked.  We were unable to get the remote disabled, so our immediate solution was to use the valet key when taking the dogs in the car with us.

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We thought we had this problem solved until the incident in Saratoga.  My car remote is encased in a cover to prevent accidental pressing, and I kept it in a safe part of my bag.  But this time I was the culprit.  Another key on the keychain had pressed the door button on the remote.  We were just lucky that it wasn’t the hatch control.

When traveling with your animals, be on high alert as to the location of your remote.  If you have a valet key, use it instead.  If not, make sure that your car remote is safely stored so that a mishap cannot occur.  

Greyhound Fostering 101

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                                                            A warm and cheerful home,
                                                            though temporary it be.
                                                            How could I have ever known,
                                                            it was chosen just for me.
                                                           

Christmas is coming, and all our thoughts go to the hustle and bustle of the season.  Greyhounds have no understanding of the festivities especially the dogs that are still waiting to be adopted.  One of the best gifts a retired racer can receive is a forever home, but the next best thing is being taken into a home as a foster dog. 

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Fostering a greyhound until a permanent home is found is a great gift to give to a newly retired racer any time of year.  Many rescues do not have kennels to house their newly acquired dogs, and the foster programs are their backbone.  When my family decided to foster, we already had two greyhounds.  Knowing what to expect from a dog right off the track can advance its education, but even without this knowledge it is possible to share your home.

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By taking in a foster, you are helping the dog transition from the track to home life.  Since dogs coming from the track have a very regimented life, living in a home becomes confusing for them.  It is best to try to keep some regimentation in their lives.  Feeding at approximately the same times each day and taking them out for potty at similar times supports this. (This will help with housebreaking also.)  Although greyhounds on the track live a different way,  they are eager to learn and pick up new skills quickly.

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The first time you bring your new foster home, it is important to introduce him or her to your present dog.  This should be done in neutral territory outside where your animal does not feel threatened.  Here, they can meet on equal terms and can sniff to their hearts content.  After the meeting is over, both dogs can be brought into the house.  It’s a good idea to let your foster wear his muzzle for the first couple of days while he is getting use to things.  If you have cats, make sure that the rescue has given you a cat-tolerant dog, and ask their advice on how to introduce them.  Keep small animals and birds caged. 

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Your job is a very important one.  Your foster is depending on you to teach him critical lessons for an easy passage to his forever home.  Since he has been kept in a kennel during his racing life, being in a home may be overwhelming to him at first.  Teaching him about stairs, slippery floor surfaces, windows and sliding glass doors, unusual noises, riding in a car, and children will make his move into an adoptive home easier.  

Having your foster learn to go outside when he has to go to the bathroom is one of the more important lessons you will teach.  In my experience, greyhounds want to please and since most are older, they learn quickly.  Taking your charge out often, giving a potty command and praise will encourage him.  Watching him closely when loose inside the house or crating him when you can’t watch him or you go out would assist him in learning what’s expected.  

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You will be essential in assessing the personality and behavior of your foster.  Your dog will face many new experiences, and how he reacts to these are key to helping your rescue place him in the right home.  If he is timid, introduce him slowly to new experiences so he can easily assimilate them.  Taking part in your rescue’s meet and greets will socialize him through meeting unfamiliar adults and children.  

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Having a soft bed in the corner of the room and teaching your charge to sleep in it instead of on your couch strengthens how he sees his new world.  You may want your dog to feel comfortable, but having his own space will work just as well.  The family that adopts your dog may not want him on the furniture.  Learning good house manners will make him more adoptable and help him to meld into his new family.   

With all these new lessons, your foster will be well on his way to his forever home.  The toughest lesson will be yours to learn.  Letting your foster go is difficult, but knowing he is going to his new home makes it all worth it.  There may be a time that you flunk “Fostering 101”.  Understand that it may happen, and if it does, tell the rescue as soon as you can that this dog is special to you.  All the love and care given to your fosters will speak volumes to their new pet parents.  

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Remember to wait until after the holidays have passed to consider adopting any pet.  Emotionally driven adoptions result in returns which no one wants, so carefully reflect on your reasons for adoption.

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Resources and Further Information:

“GFNJ Foster Guidelines”, greyhoundfriendsnj.org

“Fostering”, greyhoundlifesavers.org

Why Do We Love?

Love reinventing lives

dog and human alike,

Connections made

exquisite and pure,

Never to be broken

even with death.

Just as we develop relationships with people, we also develop relationships with our animals.  The connection with people can unfold emotionally and intellectually.  Sometimes, what begins as a professional association will blossom into a more personal relationship due to like interests or values.  Our relationships with our pets can also begin slowly, but as an animal’s personality emerges, our love may vary in its intensity.

The love I feel for my pets is non-transferable.  I believe each of my pets has brought something special into the relationship, whether it be following me around the house constantly, singing to their dad, rolling upside down into their cockroach position, or being afraid of their own shadow.  Each difference shapes the way I view them.  The dog who shivers physically when faced with an unfamiliar event will provoke a sympathetic love while the one that is pushy and knows his abilities generates an emotion that mirrors that strength.  

Think about the animals you have loved.  Was your love the same for each one?  The animals that are with me at any given time are always my favorites.  But realistically, the love felt varies because each comes with a unique personality affecting the way I view them.  

Kiowa and Emma exhibit their uniqueness through facial expressions and body language.  Whether they are chasing me around the house after I put my sneakers on (Walk Time!) or harassing the one in the desired bed by hovering and staring (they do have 5 beds), they express their desires very clearly and humorously.  Several of our dogs have revealed their propensity for the “cockroach” position (lying upside down with four legs sprawled in the air when sleeping).  When Emma does it, she shapes her body into a semi-circle (‘how’ is the question).  Looks uncomfortable to me.  Another endearing quality is the way these two play with toys.  The other day, I saw Ki with his head in the toy basket rooting for something.  He was very intense.  Emma, on the other hand, will pretty much play with any toy, but it MUST be brought into the sunroom where mounds of her toys end up.  You get the picture.  These two are always up to something, and I feel that they are the dogs of my heart, my forever dogs.  They love me ardently and display that by constantly putting their heads on my lap wanting to be cuddled and caressed.  Do I just feel the reciprocation of that love or do I love their spirits?  Probably both is the answer.

Each dog loved my family in its own rare way.  Our last two dogs, Rusty and Kazi, were affectionate with us, however, most of their love was directed toward each other.  When in the backyard, Rusty would stand over a reposing Kazi as if in protection.  When Kazi got loose, and we finally got her back after 24 hours, she looked at us like she didn’t know who we were but wagged her tail happily when she saw her Rusty.  Another one of our pets, Yankee, began life with us as a foster.  He feared the world when confronted with anything unknown to him, and shook uncontrollably.  When taking him places in the car, I had to climb into the back of the van to urge him out.  He loved us as his protectors, and our love made him feel safe.   We cherished each of our dogs, but their individuality determined our love’s intensity .

What makes your present dogs special?  What special charms did your past dogs possess?  Has personality impressed a slight variation in your love for each dog?  In truth, we really don’t need to know why we love our dogs, just that we love them with all our hearts.