A Year

has passed since I had my beautiful, brilliant, exasperating, clever, generous, funny, charming rescued Akita Zuki euthanized.

I lost Zu to  Osteosarcoma. It was a span of 24 days between the time she started limping for no apparent reason until a pathological fracture of her humerus and micrometastasis of cancer to her lungs force me to do the unthinkable.

She would have been 3 in January of this year.

On Memorial Day, my perfect, easy, sweet, kind and wonderful companion of 8 years also decided she was done.

 Nikka was the easiest, most trustworthy dog I will ever have. Until she was diagnosed with cancer, she never caused me a moment's worry.   I lost her to metastatic cancer.

 In late July, I gave a temporary home to Londie, a 13 year old arthritic female Akita who had been dumped in a shelter by her owner. She was with me briefly before she, too, opted out. Londie had Degenerative Joint Disease and hip dysplasia.  And a broken heart, come to think of it.  Her cowardly owner was cruel to abandon her. 

 

In October, my giant boy Rafa clearly told me he was done. He became unpredictable around people, had to be hand fed, and was losing control of his bowels.  When his senility caused him to come inside to urinate, it was clear he was not mentally stable.  Hence, his demise was due to complications of canine dementia.

We're a single-dog household now. I miss Zuki. I miss Nikka. I miss Rufie. I love my funny, bright, energetic puppy, and boy, I miss the ones I had to let go.

Un-blog

This is turning into The Un-Blog. I started it with enthusiasm and energy, and life has seemingly gotten in the way. Tomorrow is October.

October! Just a few weeks ago I was writing out my List of Things to Do for the summer. I turned around, and we're already well into fall.

It's been a bumpy year. Several friends and colleagues are gone. One of those who died was in chiro school with me. He died of a massive coronary in his office. Too busy taking care of others, he failed to attend to his own health. I'll miss him.

Today I got news that my beloved Little Princess has a cancerous mass in the wall of her small intestine. She's had slightly elevated liver enzyme levels, so I opted to take her in for an abdominal ultrasound.

While this showed that her liver was slightly small, an 'incidental finding' was a tumor about the size of 1 1/2 golf balls.

To cut, or not to cut, that is the question. Baby Girl is 12, yet is in excellent health, especially for her age. If I don't have surgery done on her, she'll die a pretty miserable death. She may, however, expire due to anesthesia. And although there was no evidence that the Big C is metastatic, there's no guarantee that it hasn't.

What to do.........

Jackie 1946 - 2011

My friend Jackie died last week.

I knew she was ill, but I didn't know how ill. I spoke with her two plus weeks before her death, and she didn't mention a word about the fact cancer had metastasized throughout her body.

While we weren't around-the-corner-stop-over-for-coffee friends, we spoke and emailed almost daily. I am bereft. Jackie was, above all else, honest, generous with her time and energy, and dependable.

My last, best gift to her is the 110 pound 10 year old(?) Akita who is currently sacked out in his crate after his big and first full day in his new home. Jackie wanted me to take her boy and give him a good home. So here he is, part of the pack now.

I just hope he can blend in with The Girls.

And it is official. I am now one of those crazy old women who have too many dogs.

A month

has passed since I've blogged. I've given up checking the state of the world and the state of the country; after I listened to Chris Hedge speak on Alternative Radio a couple of weeks ago, I was severely depressed (nearly paralyzed, in fact). His topic, the death of the liberal class, was based on his book of that title.

As I say to my friend H, 'we are so (very) hosed.'

In that time period, I was also fighting a major intestinal bug, which came and went seemingly at will. I felt miserable one day, though I went to work. When I returned home, the house electrical panel was shorting out, which, in turn, made my computer crash.

Hard drive wiped clean.

Back-up misfired, and I have half of what I need.

What I say next will tell you exactly what my priorities are: my first thought was 'Sheee-it! I lost all of K's photos! Damn! The Little Princess's photos are gone, too!'

Fortunately, however, 95% plus of these are on my camera's memory card, the internet, in email, or on this blog. Gotta love Ethernet-land.

The day after The Major Crash, I felt quite ill, and figured that taking a hot shower would at least help make me presentable. Ran water into the tub from the tub faucet till it was hot. Then flipped the lever for the shower.

Nuttin'

Shit! Turned water off, and galloped down the stairs. Water was seeping down the wall of the 1st floor bathroom & across the new flooring. I grabbed a pile of dog towels & mopped it up, then thought 'shit!' again, and galloped down the basement stairs.

Sure 'nuff, a BIG puddle was on the floor.

A number of stupid little things like that have occurred -- misplace the remote to my car, misplaced all the dog leashes, got snowed in, found that my snow plow guy isn't worth hiring back next season. And more. Nickle and dime stuff, but it does add up.

And I miss my boy. I think of him every day. Sometimes I think of his antics, his goofy, funny side. Sometimes I remember how wise and kind he was. I contemplate how much he loved people. And I also remember how hard his last months were on both of us. I hope I didn't wait too long. I hope I didn't keep him here for me for one second longer than he needed to be here.

Late during the summer of 2009 (his last summer), I'd leave him in the yard because he no longer wandered. He'd just lie in the yard and let the breeze waft over him. I'd check on him every 10 minutes or so. And, typical K, he'd made a friend of a stranger, even on our quiet road. A woman was hunkered down on the front lawn, and my big baby was sitting in her lap. She'd been biking by, and stopped because 'he was so beautiful and looked so kind.' She was amazed that K was an Akita. They are, after all, on the 'dangerous dog' list.

I love my girl dogs. The Little Princess is the easiest, most well mannered dog I will ever have. And The White Dog is a hoot. She is endlessly entertaining, despite how frustrated I can get. She keeps me laughing!

But neither of them are My Best Boy.

I dreamt of him last week. He was at the end of his life, and the anguish, worry, concern, focus, energy, fear, and time commitment came rushing back. I was in it, up to my neck, back to thinking about anything, everything, I could do to help him.

Perhaps it was his way of telling me it had been his time. Whatever it was, it was simply wonderful to wrap my arms about his big neck and tell him that I adore him.

I miss you, buddy. You are, and always will be, my best boy, my heart of hearts. I'd have cared for you for the rest of my life IF you'd have had quality of life.

So I'm in a semi-hibernation. The funky weather (did that damned rodent tell the truth about an early spring), mud season and last night's time change are just icing on the cake.

Oh, right. I can't eat cake. My gluten-wheat-corn-oats-sugar-soy-dairy-free diet won't allow it.

Voice mail

I checked my work phone messages yesterday. One of my patients had left a message. "I read your blog. Last week when it was so cold, I thought how nice it would be to have something big, fluffy and warm to be snuggled against. I just wanted to know you're not the only one who thinks of him and misses him."

Kuro pops into my head several times a day. Sometimes, I laugh aloud at the memories I have of him, other times I cry.

I'm glad that The White Dog is nothing like him. Gender, color, personality are all different. The Big Guy was calm, stalwart, seemingly stoic (although he'd cry like a baby when I had to trim his nails). Unflappable. Kuro was the type of dog that you'd want to wrap your arms around after a long, hard day. Doing so would mean all of your tension and anxiety would drain away until all that was left was calm. Think sigh of relief & relaxation.

The White Dog is a pistol. She's young, whip smart, energetic, effusive. After a bad day, any stress vanishes when you spend time with her simply because she's so entertaining and funny. She's the canine version of Tigger, and doesn't have a mean bone in her svelte white body.

Despite many, many warnings about how dangerous it is to have 2 same-sex Akitas in a household, my two seem to have found a solution. White Dog spends most of her time on 'her' front porch or in the fenced yard. Princess Girl is my house-bug. They're also atypical Akitas and I rule with an iron fist. ('Don't even THINK bad dog thoughts...')

The Princess is older and smart enough to concede to her younger, bouncier pack-mate. The fact that she's aging is troubling -- nearing 12, she's starting to slow down, have hip problems, be unwilling to climb stairs. She is the easiest, most thoughtful & trustworthy dog I'll ever have. She came this way. My only contribution was socialization with strangers.

Too, too bad that our 4-legged friends live such short lives. I wish all dogs had homes like mine.

Kuro

I think about you every day. I long to wrap my arms around your big, furry neck and bury my face in your soft grey coat. Yesterday, I remember when you went to the vet for you-know-what. I went to pick you up the next day, and you were so dopey! All that anesthesia!

The vet tech told me to go into the back room, where another tech was holding your leash. You looked miserable -- your head drooped, and your tail sagged earthward. I'd only had you in my life for a few days, yet when you smelled and heard me, your ears pricked and oh, so very slowly, your tail started to raise..... until it formed its perfect Akita curlicue. You knew me!

And of course I recalled the second or third day you were in my house. NL, the director of the rescue group through whom I was (allegedly) 'just fostering' you, had told me: "never, never, never, put your face at the level of an Akita's."

So when I was squatting in front of the bathroom vanity, rummaging around for whatever, I froze when you walked up behind me and took the back of my head (my ENTIRE HEAD!) in your mouth. I thought a (very) bad word and 'I'm going to die!'

When you let go, I stood up oh, so s-l-o-w-l-y, I was relieved when you took my (entire) thigh in your mouth. I distinctly remembered thinking 'weeeelllll, I can live with one leg.'

Stupid human that I am, I didn't realize that this was your way of saying you loved me.

Remember how, if ever I was walking with someone else, you'd come up behind us and then walk between us? Remember, during your last year, how you'd stick your head between my legs if I was talking to someone? What a goof! You'd always be so proud of yourself.

I miss you, K. I think of you every day. I have two wonderful, terrific, amazing dogs in my life, and neither of them are you. You are always in my heart. I love you.

Health

I was at a nutritional workshop yesterday in Oswego, NY. About 4 inches of snow fell as we were in session, and the drive home was tiring and a bit scary.

I tested positive for adrenal failure and hyperactive thyroid. I am not *at all* surprised. Cravings for fat, sugar and salt (yummmm, potato chips! Cookies - delish!) frequently go hand in hand with adrenal problems. Further, I've got food sensitivities to: gluten, dairy, wheat, oats, corn, sugar, soy. I'm OK with eggs.

So I'm ordering up the appropriate supplements, and will spend the next month on a fairly stringent diet of everything that excludes the above food groups. Oh, and for my fruit selection, I'll be sticking to apples. This limited diet doesn't seem to leave me with much of a selection. Fish, chicken, turkey, venison (no beef). Brown rice. Gluten free bread, muffins, crackers & cookies. Beans, potatoes. Any/all veg. Nuts (peanuts - no)

I was not surprised by the findings. I've at least suspected my adrenal glands were functioning poorly. Fatigue, tension, restless leg syndrome, lack of motivation are all associated with hypo-adrenal function. They're also associated with (many) other health issues, both emotional and physical.

It'll be fascinating and fun to see how I feel after I get the supplements and start the diet & pills. After a month, I'll retest (probably myself) and see what, if anything, I can add back into my diet.

Virtually everyone in the class as well as all of the patients who volunteered to come in to be test cases tested positive for candida, gluten intolerance and/or adrenal insufficiency. The workshop leader said that 80% of her practice is gut and endocrine. Fix these, and people show huge improvements.

Now, are you wondering if you fit into this category? Are you thinking "But I eat so well!" Or "I have an easy life!" Or 'Not me, I feel healthy." In general, all of the above apply to me, too. So if you're interested in improving your health and well-being, I can probably help!