The Whole is Greater

The whiskers on a dog’s snout are a curious thing. Long coarse hairs emerging from soft furry mounds or what we would call pimples if they were on our own faces, seem somehow cute. “Dog whiskers have two major functions: helping dogs understand and sense their environment and conveying emotions,” according to PetMD. These are so important in a dog’s life that removal creates tremendous stress, alters sensory perception and balance. I can relate on how something so seemingly insignificant as whiskers are to the life of an 80-pound beast can affect just about everything in his or her life should it go awry. Fortunately for Bella, all is well these days.

We rescued Bella about a year ago from the Doberman Rescue Group in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Oh we tried to find a Dobie closer to Indiana to adopt but things kept going awry literally the day before picking up some seemingly sweet pup. One adoption agency hadn’t vetted their dog’s behavior when the foster, who happened to be a Dog Trainer, wasn’t present. Zora attacked a Veterinary Technician during a visit to get her shots updated the day before we were scheduled to pick her up! Well that wasn’t going to work for us. Another Dobie Mix was uber friendly in multiple videos of her at events hosted by the adoption agency. We didn’t find out until the day before we were to pick her up that she wasn’t friendly with other DOGS though, just people. Holy cow. Our home is in a court with small dogs living in the house on one side of us and a German shepherd puppy on the other side of us. That just wouldn’t work for us or the dog either.

Isabella had lived for 8 months in an 8 x 10 foot kennel in the country of northeastern Arkansas. She had been surrendered at one year of age by her former owner then fostered by the Doberman Rescue Group. We met her foster Mom, Michelle, who explained her routine of visiting Isabella each day to let her out, feed her, and let her run around in the fields behind her family’s property. Isabella had a friend, Mr. Noble, with whom she would race around with in the tall grass on hot summer days. She knew some basic commands and was beautiful. Her single-haired coat seemed like it would minimize any allergy symptoms that we had developed when trying to adopt a long-haired German shepherd after our first GS, Elle, passed away. We’re not Doodle people and hypoallergenic dog breeds just didn’t appeal to Steve and me. We had researched numerous breeds, watched training videos, scoured more adoption websites, talked with Michelle at length several times, filled out our application, paid the fee, and made arrangements for Steve to travel to pick up Isabella. He would stay overnight at his cousin’s home in Little Rock then schedule a meet-up at the home of a paddling friend; Michelle was willing to drive 90 minutes to deliver Isabella. Everything went smoothly as planned.

Isabella was very sweet on Steve’s drive home to Indiana. Our young pup placed her head on Steve’s shoulder as he drove for most of the day with a few stops along the way. She had an accident that first night as she wandered, quite disoriented, through the limited area of our home to which we initially gave her access; the crate training turned out to be the best method to acclimate her to her new life. We took her to the vet, changed her name to Bella, gradually introduced her to more of her new surroundings, began training, and slowly transitioned her diet to better food. Over the next several months she grew taller and put on almost 14 pounds to her current weight of 81 pounds! True to her breed, she is a high energy dog that craves at least 3 walks per day, treats, and lots of toys! She learned to pull Steve on his long board through the neighborhood, even showing off for other dogs as they whizzed by together. A year later, she is at home with us: having gone on many adventures, made friends with the pups who live nearby in addition to many hoo-mans, learned a few tricks, and become protective of our home. We love her so!

The whiskers of life, the little things or maybe bigger ones too, that distract me from the whole of all that my days can be really bring me down sometimes. I am grateful that a shiny black and brown pup often senses those moments and lays her head on my lap, waiting for a gentle scratch around the ears or bum. The wiggle of her muscular hind end with a stumpy tail characteristic of the doberman side of her lineage is just too cute for words. Her whole body wiggles with delight and makes me smile in the process. While my life really hasn’t changed much since I was last writing more regularly here (as I still have convulsive episodes most days of the week and they are crushing in so many ways) I can do more when I am more stable. For that I am grateful. I could be distracted by many new health problems and perhaps I am for a time. The whole of my life is greater than these icky parts; there is also even more to be grateful for than ever before. Bella is one of those gifts. My beloved Steve is an even bigger gift in my life. My Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, is the greatest gift of all.

Where do you find your joy Gentle Reader? Is it enough to sustain you through the icky or smaller parts of your life? I do hope so. Life is increasingly difficult and complex these days. It just seems like there is no time to waste on things with no lasting value, pleasure, or meaning. The speed of life keeps increasing bringing both bad and good news faster and faster, requiring us to find a bigger picture that will sustain us no matter what the day brings. When I finally get going in the morning or afternoon, it is often Bella that I see before my beloved Stevers. Every day, her wiggly, stumpy tail attached to a smiling beast coming through the door and pushing up against me to let me know that I am loved is simply wonderful. I love you Bella.

Thank you Lord for the message of keeping our eyes mindful the bigger picture in our lives. Thank you Lord for all of Your good, good gifts. Whiskers included. JJ

As long as you have a dog

Julie and Elle in our Nissan Frontier, summer of 2017 as we headed west. Destination: USCA Nationals in Dubuque, IA then Wyoming, Idaho, Utah, and Colorado.
Bella and Julie at our local dog park.

Life is good as long as you have a dog.

A pup brings a furry friend for virtually every moment of her life. She lives to be near you (albeit closer to her next meal, of course). I get that.

Their brown or darker eyes tell the stories of every moment you have spent together, then remember only the ones in which the day was grand. Because to them, they all are grand!

I’ve heard it said that the problem with having a dog is that they don’t live long enough. Oh so true I have come to understand this to be.

Before you know it she limps or lists through her day, still smiling deeply into your eyes as if everything is still going to be o.k. If only, my pet.

Elle dragged through her last moments of life, trying to tell me that she loved me more as I stroked her thick fuzzy coat. Are you sure?

I still miss her you know. She was my first dog and fulfillment of a lifelong desire to have a companion like her. Oh the places we have gone together!

My husband and I had our special ways of relating to our Elle; she responded in kind. I loved that.

Sitting on the floor in front of the sink each night, she knew to lie beside me for her goodnight snuggles, belly rubs, and treat. Yes, I do remember.

My worst memory was our last: her bony butt walking away like a lamb to the slaughter at Animal Control, the day that was to be her last. No fanfare there at the loading dock with a vet tech there more to do her duty than comfort our weeping hearts for our Elle, our Currrrrr.

We cried sitting there in the parking area, for as long as we needed. She was gone. There was just so much pain in saying goodbye after 13 years of living together, us three.

You loved us well and were such a good puppers, our friend. You gave the best kind of love: selfless and sweet. How could we go on without you? You were so more than just a dog.

Time went on and the hole in our hearts got less sore. We discovered that we just needed one more like you, oh canine gift from above, to fill our empty nest with more love.

It took a failed adoption (aka foster), checking dozens of pet rescues, the viewing of hundreds of profiles, and two near-misses to find the next member of our family. Her name is Isabella, whom we shall now call Bella, and she is beautiful.

A month has gone by and we are slowly becoming a new pack as puppy power gives way to awesome wonder. Who is this nearly 2 year old beast who runs like the wind and leaps like a deer?

I am looking forward to our adventures to come, even if it be just to the local dog park in our changing times where travel isn’t quite the same anymore.

Each day brings a new surprise with you tender beast: so strong, so fast, so smart, so loyal as we have discovered in such a short time together.

Bella Bean you rock! It’s time to go!

That’s all she needs to know . . . as we three are off and running once again!

JJ

The full moon must goeth

If ever cycling was a thing in chronic illness then the one that goes with the emergence of a full moon is my worst. What a night from hell it was yesterday.

The new spritely Doberman mix youngster whacked me on the forehead when she jumped up suddenly. It felt like a head injury. Stars and stunned. Soon came the gutteral cries, gasps for air, and profuse drooling as I braced myself against the kitchen sink. I could think of nothing else but to hold on, try to breathe. Steve heard me and asked if I had a leg cramp. I could not speak for a very long time. I was seizing. It was terrifying.

About an hour later after much weeping, rebounding, being carried to the sectional, and 60 mg of Prednisone, my mind began to clear. No really it took 2 hours. I needed water and food and to go to the bathroom and serious help from Steve who sat nearby, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, what to do or not do. It was awful for him as well. We simply endured.

I am crying as I write this. I have spent this past day moving gently and taking a long time to do basic tasks. Very deliberately, very carefully, and certainly with much caution where Bella pup was involved. Did she know? Later last night she did lie beside me on the floor. Our other dogs never did that for more than a moment. Isabella has only been in our lives for 7 days. She’s a different kind of beast for sure. I wish I could say the same for myself. At this moment I feel like I am slipping away from my former sameness . . .

In the midst of the rebounding into more episodes when simply trying to adjust a blanket, I asked the Lord to take me home. Please take me home. I gave him my gardening, our marriage, this home. It just hurts so badly to be awake when hell breaks loose in your body and you have to watch it, helplessly. He said no. It’s not time yet. My mind went blank for all of the implications of living on until the next violent convulsive episode rips through my world. It’s complicated. It’s just so very hard.

So if the answer is no, not yet, keep going, that’s just what I will do. That’s just what I did today. He gave me the strength to take care of the dog, the laundry, some bills, cooking, computer stuff, and finding my way back to you Gentle Reader. How are you tonight? Today?

Perhaps some joy or even happiness will return to me at some point. Just for today all I can say is that I am blessed to be struggling with this mess in a situation where all of my basic needs are met well. In this place I will start the next cycle of the moon. And keep experimenting with ozone water. It did help me sleep better quite a few days and improve enough to get some tasks done that have been harder in the past to do.

Just keep going. Sometimes it’s enough. Isn’t she adorable? JJ