Dream interpretation

I often find myself wondering, “what the heck did that mean?”, after I’ve awoke from some totally off the wall dream.  The most current head scratcher had a mad squirrel that was probably the size of a cocker spaniel, chargeing across the yard at Beezly.  What kind of nutcase squirrel would charge an English Mastiff??
Wonder what my subconscious was trying to tell me or process from previous events?

Impulse buys

Over the past couple of weeks now, I've become a much better lurker on FB.  My posts have been minimal.  Rarely do I comment or react (with thumbs up, frowny faces, etc.), but honestly, it takes every fiber of my being to refrain from commenting on some.  I see people doing things that just make my blood boil, or have me rolling my eyes so hard and shaking my head, that I figuratively hurt myself.
I wish people would stop and think before getting a new puppy.  This isn't about whether someone purchases a puppy or adopts, it's about taking possession of the dog (or cat, or any pet for that matter).  There is so much more than the initial purchase price/adoption fee.  And that little puppy cuteness wears off.
I've no doubt most people get them with the best of intentions, but most then get overwhelmed and that is why so many dogs end up in shelters/rescues.
People don't think about the expense of keeping the pet, especially one of the giant breeds.  The expense of feeding is astronomical compared to that of say a chihuahua.  Same goes for veterinary care, toys, accessories, repairs to your home when it destroys things.  I know many are looking forward to having that giant dog that will draw attention and shock people, but do they really stop and consider that that giant will be able to help itself to items on the kitchen counter, the dining room table, entertainment center?  You'll have to keep your home more picked up than if you had a human toddler!  And your health insurance isn't going to cover all those trips to the vet like it does for a human child. 
And for Pete's sake, get the dog spayed/neutered!  Don't dodge the issue by keeping a female in a garage or kennel when she's in season to avoid the mess in the house, or just getting a male so you don't have to deal with it.  By spaying/neutering, you're helping reduce the chance of certain cancers, and marking of the territory, as well as other things.
And obedience training is an absolute must! 
Please people, look and think beyond that initial cute, cuddly puppy and think about the long term.  Do your homework and research the breed, regardless of what it is.  Know what special needs it may have.  Know what diseases it is prone to and be watchful of it.
It's beyond selfish if your impulse buy tanks a few months later and you've decided you 1) didn't realize how big it would get, 2) don't have time for it, 3) are fed up with it's behavior because you didn't take the time to work with it, 4) it's got too many health problems because you didn't tend it it's needs properly, and as a result of any or all of these you send it to a rescue.
Please!!!

Dog Bite

In case you missed the news story about the dog that bit the anchorwoman, here's the link:
http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/cutline/rescued-dog-bites-nbc-anchor-face-during-feel-141755422.html

I hate hearing of anybody that gets bit by a dog, unless of course it's an intruder being bitten by a dog defending it's owner/home.
While I won't exactly say that the reporter deserved what she got, I will say that it's a shame that some people never learn!
How many times does someone have to get bitten by doing something so foolish? I mean honestly! How stupid to get face to face with a dog you don't know. Just because it's never done anything like that before, doesn't mean it won't ever. Just like people, dogs can have a "bad day" and not feel well or just be moody.
Use a little common sense people!! Haven't you been told enough times in your life that you should always ask before petting some else's dog? And how many times do you have to be told not to get face to face with a strange dog?

I can't begin to tell you how many times I've had perfect strangers walk up to me and one of my giant furbabies and just start petting them, and even worse, get down so they are on eye-level with the dog(s) and put their nose to the dog(s) nose. I mean, seriously!, of all the stupid things!!! Or even if they do ask and I grant permission, they aren't content to just pet the dog in a gentle manner, instead they have to get overly enthusiastic in their petting and practically smack the dog. I'm sure they are entending it as a "pat", but because it's a giant dog they feel they can pat harder, but seriously, a gently pat, a light scratching under the chin or behind the ears goes a long way toward keeping the dog calm and well-behaved. By rough-housing when you pet the dog, it can get the dog all stirred up and make him/her very difficult to handle and create a dangerous situation.
If it weren't for the fact that my dog would be taken away from me and have to be retired from the pet-therapy program assuming I got them back (and I'd probably have to pay some kind of fine and possibly get sued), a part of me almost wishes the dog would bite the stupid person, just to teach them a lesson. But I'm guessing that foolish person wouldn't learn, and in time, would do it again.
Do I get face to face with my dogs? You bet, but they are MY dogs and I can read their moods and behaviors pretty well.
Do I get face to face with dogs I know that don't belong to me? Sometimes, depends on the dog and how well I know it, and even then, I don't force myself upon the dog.
Do I get face to face with a strange dog? Hell no!!
Now that's not to say that I haven't had strange dogs come up to me and start licking me in the face, but I certainly wasn't the one that initiated the face to face situation.

Seriously folks, I can't beg of you enough, please, Please, PLEASE! ask before petting someone else's dog, and above all else, teach your children to ask before even approaching someone with a strange dog.

Massacred!

Well, 2011 is ending on a crappy note. Would I expect anything less?
At 3:30 this morning, my kitchen looked like somebody had been massacred. Blood was all over the floor, across the front of the fridge, stove, dishwasher, cabinets, etc. etc. All over Phoebe, all over Olivia, all over me. The men-folk in the house were the only ones that escaped being covered in blood, and that's simply because one was in the bathroom and the other never got out of the crate.
Ah, the crate. That's where it all started at 3am...
For reasons I've yet to figure out, all 3 dogs seem to prefer the newer crate. It's the same exact size as the other one, so I don't know if it's because it sits inches closer to the activity-center of the house than the other, or because it's black instead of silver, or because we use the side door on it instead of the end door, or what! But prefer it they do. Especially Phoebe, since it isn't hers. Especially Phoebe, because there is usually another dog in it, and she wants what everyone else has.
By 2:50 this morning, all three dogs had been out to potty and I was packing John's lunch. Each of the girls had received their morning animal-cracker and as 3am rolled around, I was putting the finishing touches on his lunch when I heard Phoebe in the other room antagonizing Eliott because he was in the crate that she wanted to be in. Usually, Eliott grumbles a bit and then finally gives up and leaves the crate so she can have it, but not this morning. He grumbed as usual and she yipped and yapped right back at him and I thought nothing of the commotion I heard as it sounded just like what I hear every morning (and all other times of the day when she tries to get him to play. Sometimes he does, sometimes not.)
So a few minutes later, she came and stood by me in the kitchen, I didn't even glance at her as I filled our water bottles with ice. It was only when an ice cube fell on the floor and I bent to pick it up that I saw all the blood on the floor. I looked at Phoebe and was horrified to see her whole head COVERED in blood. I couldn't even tell where it was coming from there was so much of it!
I grabbed papertowels and got them wet and started wiping blood off her formerly white fur, trying to find the wound. I thought briefly that it was where her left ear met the scalp as there seemed to be a heavy concentration of blood there, but that wasn't it as that all wiped up. I finally found a tear in her right ear, about an inch from the tip.
I kept ringing the towel out and wiping her 'til she was almost clean, I blotted the wound and it seemed to have stopped bleeding so I breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't any worse and set about cleaning all the blood up from the floor. I'd no sooner wiped up the last drop of blood than she gave her head a hard shake and sent blood flying as she opened up the wound again. Again, her head was covered in blood. Everytime she shook her head, those long floppy ears wrapped around her head and smeared the blood all over, not to mention sending it flying all over everything else. Again I got the bleeding stopped and somewhat cleaned up when again she shook her head and so this cycle kept repeating itself. By now it was 3:30 and I sent John off to work. I put in a call to the vet as I now decided it was time for stitches to help end the vicious cycle. The vet agreed to meet me at 4am so I tied a large dishtowel around Phoebe's head and left my blood soaked kitchen behind and my normally pristine white Olivia walking around in the mess to track it all over the place. Poor Olivia looked like she'd been in battle as well, as she had blood all over her as well from where Phoebe kept dripping on her.
I attempted to drive my stick-shift one-handed as I held onto Phoebe's collar to try and keep her from pawing the dishtowel off her head. Changing gears with the left hand isn't easy and holding on to a squirming dog while driving is even harder. I gave up on both and drove normally. She got the dishtowel off and then stood there dripping blood all over the inside of my car, all over the passenger seat, the arm-rest, etc. etc. It was still dark when I left to come to work, so I couldn't see just how much blood actually was in the car. I made it a point to wear dark clothing this morning, just in case I got any blood on me.
Once at the vet's office, Phoebe was sedated and stitched up. 4 stitches later...
It's unbelievable how such a tiny wound could bleed so much!!
Needless to say, I never made it to the gym this morning, but I did get my cardio up as I fretted over my wounded child and I guess I got in somewhat of a workout when I mopped the kitchen floor and crawled around wiping blood off the appliances. Hopefully I can get all the blood cleaned off my running shoes before my big race on Sunday morning.
2012 has GOT to be better than 2011!

Phoebe has a tumor

Phoebe has a tumor.
She loves her tumor, as do we. I don't think she can live without it. Odd thing to say about a tumor, but it's true.

Okay, so before any of you freak out, watch this short video clip before reading the rest of this blog:







That having been said...
This is Phoebe's "Tumor":




She carries it with her wherever she goes. She absolutely adores this toy!
Phoebe has proven to be THE most destructive dog we've ever had when it comes to dog toys. She destroys every one she gets a hold of. Kongs, mere childs play, she might as well be chewing a stick of soft butter. Virtually indestructible my arse!! However, this one toy she has singled out as her favorite and she takes very good care of it.
It's a ball-shaped, sherpa-covered stuffed toy. It's actually a left-over from our other dogs that never played with it (or destroyed). She carries it all around the house, sleeps with it, carries it outside when she goes potty, amuses herself by playing fetch with it, but never, ever, no NEVER does she chew on it or try to de-stuff it. She simply carries it around with her. If for any reason it doesn't end up in the crate with her when we have to pen her up, then you can be certain that as soon as she's turned loose, that's the first thing she does is go find her tumor.
I haven't figured out why this toy, but I'm just glad there is something that has survived. Tumor is starting to show some wear and tear as it's getting old, and even though she doesn't chew on it, let's face it, her teeth do sink into it when she carries it around, so small holes are starting to appear. I've been searching all the pet stores in hopes of finding a new one (and additional ones to put back for the future), but so far haven't been able to find any. So if anybody knows where we can purchase a new tumor, please, let me know! If nothing else, hopefully Phoebe's tumor will hold out 'til the dog show comes in to town in March and I'll be able to find one at one of the vendor boothes.
The funny thing is, despite being totally deaf, she seems to have learned to read lips or else is reading my mind. On the rare occasion that she sets tumor down when she goes outside, if she tries to come back in the house without it, all I have to do is look her in the face and say, "go get tumor", and darned if she doesn't turn and go get it. Now if we could just get her to start "listening" to us about other things.
Okay, I hope this has made you smile, as seeing her walk around with her tumor always makes us smile.

All in the Family

I've been away for a while. Not just from bloggy world, but literally, away. I've been house/kennel-sitting for my friend for the past 10 days. Glad that's over!

I was struck with the realization while there, that every single dog I was caring for, was directly related to my Olivia. That hasn't always been the case in years past, unless they were like distant cousins. This time though, the familial ties are much closer. Many of these dogs you've "met" over the years, but they are aging gracefully as they enter their senior years.

This is Bella. She was our Bootsy's litter-sister, and half-sister to Olivia.

This is Sara. She and Olivia are full-sisters, just from different litters. Every time I see Sara, I see more and more of a resemblance between her and Livvie. Of course not in the markings, but in the structure of their heads and in their eyes. Did I mention she's a retired champion??

This is Candy, Sara's daughter/Olivia's niece.

This is Sawyer. He's Bella's son/Olivia's (half)-nephew. Also a retired champion, at the ripe old age of 3!!



And this little cutey is Little Bootsy. She's one of Candy & Sawyer's babies. Sara & Bella are her grandmothers, making her Olivia's great-niece.


And last but not least is Magic. She and Sawyer are litter-mates, making her Olivia's (half)-niece.



Now for some updated pix of my kids:

See that green thing under Phoebe? She had her Kong tucked in between her legs and it looked like she was trying to hatch an egg.


Is it too early to start humiliating the dogs for Christmas?
My quilting teacher made the holly-collar for the dogs so they took turns modeling it for her. Phoebe doesn't ever seem to mind getting "dressed up". She's so agreeable to anything we do to her.

Can't really say the same about the others. We have to snap their pictures really fast before they start trying to wiggle out of things.

Olivia looks embarrassed, doesn't she?


Eliott is just glad to have some attention directed towards him for a change.

Little Houdini

Either I am seriously losing my mind, or Phoebe is proving to be a little Houdini.
On the way home from work Wednesday, I got a phone call from my husband who had just arrived home. He asked me if I'd forgotten something when I left for work that morning. My mind started frantically trying to remember if I'd left an appliance plugged in, or perhaps the front door standing wide open. The possibilities were endless and of course I was about to get upset that something had happened to the house, or worse, the dogs.
Well, something did happen to the house, but not because I'd left something plugged in or the front door open. Apparently when I put Phoebe in her crate, I somehow failed to get both latches secured properly, and at some point during the day she discovered she could have free roam of the house. Needless to say, she took full advantage of the opportunity and had a field day! She knocked over the gate that keeps them out of our front bedroom (aka our "storage area"). In there she found several bags of dog treats that belonged to our therapy-pet group to use at functions/fund-raisers, she found bags of halloween candy, stuffed animals, papers to chew up, and all sorts of things she could've gotten in to, but probably ran out of time before being busted. Amazingly enough, she completely by-passed the giant box of giant dog biscuits that was already opened. As one bag of the candy had already been opened, it was hard to tell if she'd eaten any (wrapper and all) or just scattered them around the house. The papers she chewed up were fliers for the therapy-pet group. Most everything she got in to belonged to the group, which makes me wonder if she somehow knew that and was trying to tell me what she thought of becoming a therapy pet.
Of course I looked at Eliott and asked if he'd let her out and then stood back rooting her on, hoping she'd get in lots of trouble.
Okay, so she made a mess, and may or maynot have eaten some candy and papers. Amazingly enough, she hadn't eaten the dog treats, just drug out all the bags and scattered them around the house.
So then this morning, I once again locked her in the crate and headed to the gym. I returned a little over an hour later and she was curled up, sound asleep in the crate. I went to the bedroom to change clothes. Next thing I know, she's standing at the bedroom door "talking" to me as only Phoebe can do. Now HOW had she gotten out this time?
I'll accept that I messed up once, but TWICE in less than 24 hours? I don't think so!! I think she's figured out how to get the door open by herself. Maybe she mentally focuses on the locks and uses ESP or something to slide the latches open. Either way, I'm buying some clips at the hardware store this eveing to help keep the doors closed.

Weekend in review

It was another busy, busy weekend! First I took the girls down to Waterfront Park for the Alzheimer's Walk. We made some new friends (potential clients for our therapy pet group) and ran into some old ones too.

After the walk was over, I heard someone calling my name. It was Dan, a guy I've known since 2nd grade, but hadn't seen since graduation until that is, our 25th reunion back in June. Now here turns up again, kinda like a bad penny. Sorry Dan, not implying you're bad. ;) But I had him take this photo for me.


It's not easy trying to get the girls to both sit AND stay AND face the same direction all at the same time WHILE I'm trying to take their picture. This morning, I did hear back from one of the ladies we met, and I'm to start taking Olivia to a new facility starting next week. The lady was so nice and is just so excited to have us visit.


We also ran into another old friend, Doug and his Great Dane, Noel, and his daughter Aleah (hope I spelled that correctly). Our first dane, Smokey, and his first dane, Nip, were litter mates. We had a chance meeting at the park one day when we were there with our dogs, got to talking and discovered they were brother/sister. I've stayed in touch with the family ever since, thru their many fur-babies and ours.



Phoebe was doing a little modeling for me.
None of our other dogs have liked wearing the Doggles, but she didn't seem to mind one bit. How cute is she???

The look on her face says "Who, me?"

She was so exhausted after the Alz. walk, she passed out when we got home. It's hard work being an affectionate dog with hundreds of people wanting to pet you.

I do love it whenever I can get a group-photo of the kids together.

Update on Phoebe and the other kids

I thought it was time for some updated photos of Pheebs. I haven't weighed her recently, but I can tell she's put on quite a bit of weight since we got her. Her ribs aren't nearly as pronounced as they were.
She loves to aggravate Eliott every chance she gets. Sometimes he doesn't mind and they get to wrestling around on the floor, but occasionally he gets a bit cranky and wants no part of it. Fortunately, in these pix, he was in a playful mood.
Please pardon our mess on the floor. Pretty much every toy they own was scattered about.

Kind of looks like they're playing kissy-face.

Olivia ventured over to check out the action.

And now she's decided she wants no part of it so she's leaving.

Phoebe & Olivia actually play very well together also. They like to play tug-o-war with any "skin" of a formerly stuffed animal. It's so cute to see Olivia teasing Pheebs, walking past her, dangling the toy in front of her until Phoebe takes the bait and holds on to the other end, taking turns dragging each other around the room.

I took these outdoor photos this morning.

Eliott was checking out the bushes, trying to decide if they needed to be "watered".

Phoebe just loves to stand on her hind legs and watch people walk by. She rarely ever barks, just watches the world pass by.

And once her curiosity is satisfied, she's off! Zipping around the yard, it's hard to get a decent picture of her as she's in constant motion...

And then there is that rare moment...

when she does stand still and allow me to take her picture.

Sunday evening as we took the girls out for their evening walk, we hadn't gotten very far, just to the intersection behind our house. The girls of course sat as they are supposed to do when we stop, and then to my surprise, a couple of neighbors across the road came out of their house flagging us down, asking to meet the new pup.

These people have lived in that house for probably 5 or 6 years and I can count on one hand with fingers to spare how many conversations we've had with them. I don't even know their names (first or last). The last conversation I did have with the husband was a couple of days after we got Phoebe. He had seen me walking her and commented that he'd seen one at the Humane Soc. that looked just like her. I smiled and told him she was in fact that pup.

So they crossed the street and Phoebe immediately leaned on the woman as she petted her. We talked and she told me as her husband had about having seen her at the KHS. They had adopted a cat that same week apparently, and had planned on telling us about the dane pup that was up for adoption, but hadn't gotten the chance to tell us. As it turned out, we were already in the process of making her ours. While we talked, Phoebe continued to lean and soak up the attention being showered upon her and Olivia sat patiently, looking to John for the occasional treat for sitting so pretty.

The woman then said something that made my heart swell with pride. She commented that our dogs were always so well-mannered.

THAT is exactly the kind of remark I love to hear. Of course we all enjoy hearing that others think our pets are cute/pretty, or fun to watch, but I'll take the "well mannered" compliment over all others any day!!

Pi$$ing contest

The last thing I want to do is get into a pi$$ing contest with an instructor, but honestly, it was all I could do to bite my tongue at class last night.
I've known this woman for nearly 15 years. That's not to imply that we're friends. We simply have a teacher/student relationship. While yes, she has instructed the last 4 dogs we've had (and for 1 class our first dane), she really doesn't know anything about our lives outside of class, and I kindly resent some of her comments in class about what our dog(s) are/aren't doing and more specifically, about the type of equipment we chose to use.
If I simply wanted my dog(s) to learn to sit, lie down, stay and come, then I can teach those things on my own. But the reason I take my dogs to obedience school is to learn to deal with the distractions and chaos we otherwise wouldn't have at home or when walking around our neighborhood, and to get them socialized.
I am a HUGE fan of the Gentle-Leader. I won't walk Olivia without one. The only time she sets foot out of the house without one on is if we're going straight to the car or if it's just a quick potty-break. Otherwise, she's not allowed outside without hers on.
Phoebe has learned she's not allowed out the front door unless hers is on, even if we're just going to the car and she's learned she's not allowed to get out of the car until I've put it back on her.
We've had her for 7 weeks now and she has settled down SO much! She walks beautifully on a loose leash, and only on occasion do I have to remind her to get back or keep up. In fact, I can walk both of my girls at the same time BY MYSELF, keeping both of them on my left side with minimal effort. Both girls sit automatically when we get to an intersection or we stop (although as we get near the end of our walk, sometimes Phoebe has to be reminded as her attention span has started to wander off). I think that speaks volumes for how well my dogs can walk on a leash.
In all honesty, I don't care if my dog(s) don't sit exactly straight facing forward when they sit. I'm just happy they sit. And I don't care if their bodies are centered exactly by my side. In all honesty, with the girls vision problems, I'd actually rather have them a bit behind me, or so that their head is right by my leg, so they can see me better and I don't have to tug on them to get their attention.
That having been said...
Our instructor seems to have become a huge fan of the pinch-collar since I last took classes from her. Maybe she was before and I just don't remember it, but honestly, I think all but maybe 2 of the other 9 nine dogs in our class are wearing them and most of them are on loan from her while class is in session. I'm sorry, but I absolutely REFUSE to put a pinch collar on my dog(s). I think those things are barbaric!! Now, if I could get my dog(s) to walk on a loose lead simply using a flat collar or a soft-choker, then I'd be thrilled, but I've never been able to accomplish this, so I feel using the Gentle Leader is absolutely acceptable. It's humane, the dog doesn't get choked or pinched, and it makes walking them a pleasant experience.
Up until class last night, Phoebe has always come when called... as long as she sees me sweeping my arm to call her in. That's the key... "as long as she sees me". And even if I haven't specifically called her to "come", if she happens to look around when we're in the back yard and I'm standing by the back door, she has never waited for me to call to her, instead, she's always come running. So in class last night we worked on teaching our dogs to come when called. Her first attempt was less than dismal. She wasn't focused on me and as soon as the instructor let go of her, she wandered off to visit with the other dogs. For that, I got chastised by the instructor for using a Gentle Leader. WTF??? I don't think a G/L had a darn thing to do with it. She started in on me about how I'm controlling her head at all time, guiding it where to go and the first opportunity she has to not be restrained by me, her head starts turning in every which direction and not paying attention to me.
Um, excuse me?!?!?
First of all, I don't "control" her head. When we walk, she's on a loose lead and her head is free to turn and look in any direction she chooses as long as she keeps walking in the correct direction. Second of all, she's got a stranger (the instructor) holding her back by the collar (not something she's used to having done to her), so as soon as she's let go, yeah, she wonders off to wherever and I may or may not have caught her attention. Now on the 2nd and 3rd time we did this exercise, she came straight to me both times as she was more focused on me.
When I was getting chastised for using the G/L, I felt like saying, "better that I control her head in a gentle fashion than to put a torture device on the dog and make her afraid of doing something wrong like all these other dogs".
Training a deaf/blind dog takes a little longer than a normally functioning dog, but that doesn't mean they can't learn the lesson. Phoebe has proven to be a very smart girl and I think with time and patience, she'll do even better than Olivia. But don't be critical for every little thing we do/don't do. You don't live in our household and have no idea what the rules are around our house. I've no plans on competing with these dogs, so perfectly square sitting or "staying" without moving for 2 minutes isn't a priority in our lives.

The Story of "Helen"

This is the story of "Helen". A little girl in need of a loving, forever-home, with a family that would accept, even welcome her and all of her special needs/disabilities into their lives.

Sometimes things happen at the most unlikely of times in our lives. Could it be fate? Coincidence? Something else? By the time you get done reading this (actually, probably long before then) you're going to think John & I have completely lost our minds.

As most of you know by now, we lost our beloved Bootsy in mid-June, after being diagnosed with bone cancer back in March. Her passing left a sadness in our hearts, yet at the same time, I was kinda looking forward to a little less chaos in our lives/home... fewer dogs to clean up after, fewer vet bills, smaller feed bill, less dog hair, etc., etc. That may sound cold and callous, but if you only knew what kind of chaos we lived in. Don't get me wrong, it was a chaos that gave us joy and was filled with love, but none the less, it was chaos. So when John whispered to me a couple days after her passing: are we going to get another puppy if anything happens to Eliott?, I reacted loudly and without thinking: Hell no!!

Was he out of his mind? Bootsy had only been gone a couple of days! The last thing in this world I wanted to think about was a new mouth to feed, new responsibilities, adding to our chaos, etc. etc. I simply wasn't ready!! Of course I had failed to really understand what he had asked: ...if something happened to Eliott... Eliott is healthy, still playful as a pup at times, barring any unforeseen accidents, we should have him around for at least a couple more years (hopefully longer), so there was no need to even discuss getting another dog for a long time to come. Right?

Yeah, well, that's what I was thinking at that time. Then a little over a week later, Eliott was out in the backyard and I stuck my head out to call him back in. He started up the steps of the deck, only to fall back down them. He didn't get hurt, but it broke my heart just the same to watch him pick himself up and make his way around to the other set of steps and in to the house. Eliott has always had an awkward gait. His rear end is weak, the vet said it was probably neurological. When he was younger, it didn't seem to hinder him much, just made him look kind of funny when he walked. Now that he's getting older, it's making getting around difficult for him. His hind legs often get tangled with one another and he sometimes has trouble standing up. On more than one occasion I've had to use a towel to form a sling and help him stand up. We tried taking him and Olivia for a walk on their leash right after Bootsy's passing, but it was so difficult for him to walk at our pace in an orderly fashion that we had to cut the walk short and take him back home. He's definitely better left to run/shuffle around the back yard at his own pace. After watching him fall down the steps, I now wondered: just how long would we have him in our lives?
With that sad thought in my head, I went to work at my secondary office located in Westport Village that day. It was Tuesday, June 28th.

All day long, I kept thinking about Eliott and about what John had asked me. I still really didn't want a little puppy at this point in our lives, because they are sooo much work and we are sooo busy most of the time it seems. Things were quiet at work, so I had some free-time and decided to go to the Great Dane rescue site and fill out an application. I still wasn't ready for a new dog, but decided I'd get the paperwork taken care of and explain to them that perhaps in a few months we'd be ready and if so, then they could already have done their home-inspection and checked our references, blah, blah, blah. I started filling out the application , but couldn't answer all the questions off the top of my head, so I decided to come back and finish it later. In the mean time, I decided to take a look at what they had available... not that I was interested mind you, but I was bored.

Of all the danes on their site, only one even piqued my interest, but it stated that she wasn't good with children or other pets. Well, that automatically disqualified her right there. Of course one website lead to another and before I knew it, I found myself at the Kentucky Humane Society's site. As I put in my search criteria, I really didn't have any expectations of finding anything of interest (or for that matter, really didn't WANT to find anything of interest... again, I was bored).

So imagine how I sharply I inhaled when this came up on the screen:

For the briefest of moments, I thought I was looking at one of Olivia's puppy pictures.
Nope, nope, don't even go there! I didn't even read the dog's bio or name, I just quickly exited out of the website and went to find something else to do.
But a couple of hours later, I found myself looking at that sweet face once again. I just had to know... I called the number on the site which connected me with the main office. I asked the girl that answered if "Helen" was still available. I held my breath as I waited for the answer, part of me hoping that she'd already been adopted to a nice family thus making the whole conversation moot, and another part of me holding my breath and hoping that she was still available.
She was!
The girl on the other end started telling me all about Helen and her special needs. Somehow, I'd completely missed reading her bio on the website, but as it turned out, Helen had more in common with Olivia than just her sweet, white face and gray spot in front of her left ear. Helen too is deaf and partially blind. But where as Olivia has vision problems in both eyes, Helen is only blind in her left eye, and sees very well from her right.
The whole time I was thinking to myself, "I've got to go and see this dog! Ugh, but I'm so busy this week, I don't think I can make it 'til Sunday afternoon."
Then the girl hesitated and said, "oh, well, Helen is located at our east campus."
I nearly fell out of my chair as I inhaled sharply. Had I misunderstood her? "Do you mean the one on Lyndon Lane?"
"Yes, that's the one."
I couldn't freaking believe it! I knew exactly where that location was, I could practically look out my office window and see it.
I nearly shouted at the girl, "I'm at the other end of that shopping center!"
I thanked her and hung up, paced around the office a few times, went up and down the stairs a few times, paced some more. I couldn't stand it, I simply HAD to go and see her. I excused myself for a few minutes and drove to the other end of the center. The whole way there I kept telling myself I was nuts to be doing this. Hadn't I just chastised John a few days ago for even suggesting we get a new puppy? I walked in to the Humane Society and someone shouted from the back that they'd be with me in a moment. I stood in the middle of the reception area, slowly looking around the room until my eyes locked onto a sweet white face looking back at me from across the room. I froze in place and held my breath as Helen and I sized each other up. She was in the "get acquainted room", lying on a counter top and staring out the window at me, her head cocked to the side. Tears started to pool in my eyes as I watched her. Why was she in there? What are the odds that the very dog I had come to see would be right there as soon as I walk into the place? It was as if she had been waiting for me to come and get her.
Then, to my horror, two young girls and a woman came in to view and Helen went back to playing with them. What were they doing playing with my dog!??!?!?!?! By the time the clerk came out of the back room, the tears had spilled down my face and my nose was running. I snivelled that I wanted to see that dog and pointed to Helen. I hated to ask, but had to: was that family interested in adopting her? I was assured they weren't and a weight was lifted from my heart as I was shown in to the room that Helen occupied.
It was explained that she stayed in that room. It was beyond love at first sight for me. Helen is an absolute LOVER with boundless energy. She offered up wet kisses to my face and I just knew that somehow, she would become a part of our family.
I spent about 5 minutes with her and went back to the office where I printed off her bio from the website. Before heading to riding lessons that evening, I stopped by the house and left it on the dining room table where I knew John would see it when he got home and wrote on it: "I want to come and live with you!"
I felt sure that there would be a voice mail waiting for me when my lessons were over, with John telling me I'd lost my mind, but there wasn't. When I arrived home, he'd already gone to the firehouse. I found Helen's bio right where I'd left it and stuck to it was a post-it note with the question: When do we go get her?
John was ready to bring her home that evening. Of course the KHS had already closed for the day and they closed early on Wednesday, so the soonest we could get her would be Thursday. But I gave it some thought, decided to take a weeks vacation in conjunction with the holiday weekend and made up my mind to be there when the doors opened Friday morning at 10am, and I was.
First thing Wednesday morning, I called the KHS and asked if I could put a deposit down to hold her until Friday. They agreed and I breathed a sigh of relief that no one could come in and snatch her away from us before we even got her. John went to visit her that afternoon and I went Thursday at lunchtime, taking my mother with me. Then John and I went back again that evening. Friday morning wasn't going to get here soon enough!
We both agreed from the get-go that her name would not remain Helen. She just wasn't a Helen. Helen conjured up images of a feeble old woman (no offense to anyone out there named Helen). Many names were tossed around and finally we decided on "Phoebe".
After I filled out all the paperwork on Phoebe and was given her medical history and other life story, I was amazed at the time lines that paralleled our last few months with Bootsy.
Phoebe was picked up as a stray in March, right around the same time that Bootsy was diagnosed with cancer. A few weeks later she was adopted by a family that ended up bringing her back a couple of months later because they couldn't "deal with her". She was returned in June, just days before we lost our Bootsy. And then here we were, bringing her into our family exactly two weeks later. It was almost as if it was meant for Helen/Phoebe to come and live with us right from the start. She just had a rough journey in life 'til she found her forever-home with us.
Part of me would like to meet her former, temporary owners and ask them why it was they couldn't handle her. But then again, it's probably just as well that I don't know who they are. Phoebe reacts frequently as if she's been beaten. Often when we walk into the room or stand up from a chair, she'll suddenly either cower down to the ground or run to her crate as if she's afraid she's done something wrong. I don't know it they beat her or perhaps the person that owned Phoebe's mother beat her, or perhaps even both.
All I know is that they are the fools to have ever let this sweet fur-child go. She is the absolute lovingest, sweetest dog. She wants to meet everyone she sees, human or canine, and she gets along with out cat too. Phoebe is quite rambunctious, especially compared to Olivia, but I keep telling myself it's because she's still a pup. But in reality, I think she is just a very active, high-energy dog.
She has fit right in from the get-go with our family. I had worried that Olivia might be upset at the newest member, but if anything, she seems most delighted to have a new playmate that actually engages her in playtime. If anything, Eliott is the one that gets a little cranky with her at times when her play gets a bit too enthusiastic and she knocks him down, but he still accepts her and allows her to cuddle with him.
It took us a few days to get the new dog crate, but it's now in place next to the other one and our house is now filled with chaos once again, but would we really have it any other way?
Phoebe is learning to walk (somewhat quietly) on a gentle-leader at my side instead of trying to drag me down the street, and she's quickly learned that she doesn't get fed anything unless she's either sitting or lying down. I had hoped to get her into obedience school last week, but we're having to wait until August 3, so that gives me some extra time to work with her and hopefully she'll be a star-pupil by graduation time.
Do I dare hope that some day she'll become a therapy pet like Olivia? Only time will tell if she has what it takes. She certainly has the personality for it, but it may be a couple of years 'til she calms down enough.
This past Saturday, I took her to a 5k event out in Westport, KY. Despite a few equipment malfunctions along the way, she did very well and made friends with everyone she met. Of course most of the regulars thought it was Olivia when they first saw her, but Phoebe will soon have her own following of loyal fans about town, of that I have no doubt.
Here are a few pix of our newest family member:


Visiting day at the KHS




First meeting between Phoebe and Olivia.

Liv has more spots and a black nose, so for now, they are easy to tell apart, but if Phoebe develops more spots and her nose changes like Olivia's did, it will become difficult for others to tell them apart.

That beautiful blue eye doesn't miss a thing! This little girl is constantly in motion and I think she sees more than most dogs with two good eyes.
Eliott isn't too sure about this new addition...

She's a bit thin, but she's so active, I swear she burns off every calorie we feed her and then some!

When I'm working on laundry, she often goes and lies by the front door.

If it weren't for the fact that she doesn't have the two spots on her side, I'd have a hard time telling her from Olivia, as Liv looked just like this at that age, including have a spot in front of her left ear too.

The new crate arrived and is now assembled. For some reason, all the dogs seem to prefer it to the old crate, even though they are the same size. Eliott doesn't mind sharing space with her either.

So now we're back to being a home filled with chaos. I hadn't expected this so soon in my life, but somehow it just all came together, if unexpectedly, and it just feels right. And as she's an older puppy, already knowing many basic obedience commands and almost (emphasis on almost) housebroken, she's not nearly as much work as a little pup. But we do have to try and stay one step ahead of her when taking Olivia out to potty or when we exit the house as she tries to follow every time

Yep, One big happy family we are!!