Quality of Life

I think it's funny how reoccurring themes come up in our lives. . . or they may not be reoccurring, but come up all at once to teach us a particular lesson. Something that has come up for me recently is quality of life. It's a strange lesson to learn, but I've been faced with that notion repeatedly in the past few months.

First, Mole's back went out and I had to determine what was an appropriate level of exercise/fun. Then we had some very sick puppies come through and we had to decide if long-term high quality was worth the short-term low quality. Then I had a foster dog with sever medical issues. . . it was a constant question about what qualifies as quality? Then Abby's body started shutting down and I had to figure out the exercise/fun quotient for her. Then we had another sick puppy scenario. . . It's been almost constant recently.

Awhile ago, when mole was first diagnosed, we slowed down a bit, but I decided that his quality of life was more important and that we need to continue our normal hiking/exercise routine. Time wears on and he gets worse. I decide that he is too important to me and that I need more time and he stops going on hikes. Fast forward to when Abby was diagnosed and I have a completely different opinion - Abby still goes on hikes despite her issues.

It's funny how we can come to completely different solutions to the exact same problem. And it's not that I love Abby any less than mole - or that I value my time with mole more than I value my time with Abby. For Abby, I decided that she needed to have a high quality of life despite the obstacles that come our way because she had such a poor quality for such a long time. If, in the long run, it means that I have less time with her, then so be it. But I could not make that same decision for mole. I felt that even a lower quality mole life is way higher than a lot of dog's highest hoped for quality.

Just this week I was faced with an interesting decision - where to place my special needs foster puppy. The decision was a tough one. One of the people would cuddle him continuously and treat him like a precious little baby, and the other would let him romp and play and be a dog. Both clearly loved him and would care for his special needs, but which would be the best life for him? Where would he have the highest quality of life?

It was in making that decision that made me rethink my decision about mole. He LOVES to hike and play and be a dog. My keeping him confined kept him comfortable, but he sure wasn't as happy as he used to be. It showed in small ways, but it became more and more apparent. But making the decision to allow him this was tough. He hurts more often then not now, but we are able to manage the pain. But the fact that he does hurt makes it all the more difficult to allow him to do something that might make him hurt worse.

But seeing him age quicker and quicker makes me want to make the time he does have here with me as special and as fun as possible. Because of that, I have decided to take him hiking again. We aren't going to go as far as Abby and I go, and we are going to go on flatter trails, and we are going to go at his pace. . . but we are still going to go - at least once a week. We have already gone once, and seeing how happy he was made my resolve to continue to do this stronger. And he really didn't need any more pain meds than usual - at least not this time. I understand that might not always be the case, but how can you say no to this face

Rally Run Thru

Abby and I went to our first rally run thru last night. I was a bit nervous, but figured that it would be a really good learning experience for both of us.

The run thrus are set up like a rally trial, so I decided that we would pretend it was an actual trial. I got there early, set up her crate and left her in there for a bit. I checked in, walked the course (level 3 - not what we were actually running). I sat for a bit and watched some people. About 6 people in, I pulled Abby out, pottied her and did some warm up exercises. Abby knew that something was going on, but couldn't quite figure it out. We still had a ways to go before our turn, so I put her back in the crate and let her rest.

Before I knew it, it was time for me to walk our course. It was actually quite an easy course, and one that we would have done well off-leash on if we were in our level 2 class. We were the second ones up, so I only did one quick walk through and pulled Abby back out to potty and warm up. I was a bundle of nerves when it came time to actually do the course. Even though it didn't "count" for anything, this was our chance to see how we were doing, and what we needed to work on. It's one thing when you are in class, but this was almost like a graded exam!

Silly me, I had nothing to worry about. Abby has this shit down. We ran the course twice and got a 201 and a 196 (out of a possible 200 w/ a 10 pt bonus). We needed to work on tight leashes (my fault) and doing a sit from a down (I got dinged for having to give a second command). Abby did well and seemed quite happy the entire time. I am especially surprised that she did so well after having a long day at work - our first run wasn't until 8:40pm and our second was at 9pm. That is quite late for a doggie who has an early bed time.

Confession time: when I added up Abby's first score, I cried a little. I was so proud of her. I felt like we really accomplished something. We have worked so hard at so much and I think that this is something that we can actually excel in. My silly little iggy not only likes this stuff, but is actually getting good at it.

Training Update

I haven't written a whole lot lately about Abby's training mainly because we took a few weeks off. In the past year and a half we haven't taken much time off from training because there was always something going on. But now that we can't do agility, its easier to take time off between classes. I've still been hiking with her and doing small things here and there, but no actual training.

A few months ago, I put together a training plan for Abby that consisted of 3 phases. The first phase was to get her out in new environments. The second was to do very basic training in environments that she was comfortable in. The third phase. . . well, we didn't actually come up with a third phase because we were still trying to work on the first one. I think that I have an idea for phase 3 that consists of training in new environments. . . but we aren't there quite yet.

Today Abby and I started phase 2.1 of our training plan. I had no idea that there would be a 2.1 when I started, but I knew it today when I saw it. Abby and I went to our favorite hiking spot. We don't go there a whole lot because it is a bit further than our usual hiking spot - and way more remote. Abby likes the quiet of this place but I am always worried about mountain lions and psychopaths. In these hills Abby will totally settle and actually walk and mark and will just be a dog. I knew that this was the right place to do more intensive training with her.

I wanted to do some training before our hike because I figured that she would be less interested in getting back in the car - one of Abby's favorite things to do because she gets an "all done" cookie after class and hikes, etc. Abby did surprisingly well on the basics, so we worked on some distance stays, and some mom being weird stays. I was quite impressed with her willingness to work in this environment, and more impressed that she didn't completely freak out when a car a drove by. After the training we went for our usual hike (well, maybe a bit slower since I took an ass kicking class at the gym yesterday. . .) As we approached the car, I got this silly little idea in my head about doing some more training BEFORE getting into the car. I have no idea what devilish imp gave me that idea, but I decided to run with it. I was completely shocked when Abby actually responded to the training commands. She really wanted to get into the car, but she still worked some heeling and some stays - and a "distance" down ("" because I'm really only 2-3 feet in front of her at this point). I was really proud that she was able to control herself with something so tempting in front of her.

I'm still super bummed that we can't do agility. . . and even more bummed about it when she flies over the ONE jump we do in Rally 2 practice. I'm sad that her body gave out because I think that she would have continued to do well in the sport. But even though I am bummed about agility, I'm really glad that we still have something fun that we can do together. And it's nice that we can practice closer to home rather than drive 30-60 minutes for training.

New Phone

I had an iPhone for a few years, but it has been slowly dying lately. Earlier in the week it decided that it would no longer accept phone calls; but for some strange reason I was still able to talk using my blue-tooth... Strange, I know. . . it was becoming increasingly evident that I needed a new phone.

I have been thinking and debating about phones for a few months now, but this is a bad time of year for me at work, so making non-work related decisions is difficult. I had hoped to put the decision off until September or October, but having a working phone is sort-of essential. . .

After much thought I decided on the HTC EVO, for a variety of reasons that I will not go into. For the most part, I really like my new phone. I am happy with the service so far - Sprint -and really enjoy the lightning fast data access (I was stuck in the olden days with the Edge network). I really like the big screen, I like the camera, I like the radio feature, I like that my contacts are synced with FB and everyone has their own unique photos. There are a few things that I don't like, however, and I don't think that I will get used to 1) I can't access my mail folders - or at least I can't figure out how to access them 2) I can't seem to get my iTunes music transferred- even though I KNOW there is a way to do this. 3) I don't like the limited options on the calender for selecting repeated appointments 4) I don't like that it takes FOREVER to charge!

I have a full 30 days to try out this phone and service. I am almost 100% sure that I am going to stick with it. I can't quite say that I like it as much as my iPhone, but it is still new and we are still getting used to one another.

Ignorant Owners

No, this isn't a rant about how some ignorant owner wronged me or one of my dogs. This is about how sometimes I wish I was an ignorant owner. OK, not really, but sort of. . .

Sometimes I wish that I didn't have as much veterinary knowledge as I have. Aside from the time I would save cleaning ears, expressing anal glands, trimming nails, and looking at limping and lumps on friends pets; I would save my self a great deal of worry about my own pets.

My kids are getting old and I see all the symptoms - perhaps magnified because I know exactly what I'm looking for. While some people wake up one day and find that their 8 week old puppy is suddenly a 12 year old geriatric dog; I see all the small symptoms along the way. I notice that hesitating to get into and out of a car is a surefire sign of early arthritis. I see that "accident" as evidence of kidney disease or loss of bladder control. I see the slowing down on a walk as proof that we are having back problems.

While many owners would ignore these small symptoms - or not see them all together, I panic and rush my babies into the vet to figure out exactly what is going on. Because of my panic I learn things about my kids that other people might not know for years to come. And while I think that it often causes me unnecessary worry, I think that in some cases it prevents the problem from becoming irreversible. Learning Abby had kidney problems through a routine blood panel (after noticing more "accidents" ) I freaked out. Once I calmed down, I made a plan and with a slight change in diet, we remedied the problem. While I know that her kidneys aren't fixed, I know that we can manage the problem for longer than we would if I had just ignored it and let it get worse.

Recently, I have noticed that Mole's back isn't doing too well. . .again. Sure he is still getting around ok, but he is slightly off. I can see it when he walks and how he stretches and how he gets up from a nap. I know he is uncomfortable, but my stoic old man tries his best to hide it from me. We've tried muscle relaxants for a few days, but that hasn't seemed to help. We are going to try NSAIDs for a few days and hope that works. He isn't bad enough to put on steroids, but we might have to go back to the opiates.

Sometimes I wish that I didn't know as much as I did and then I wouldn't worry quite so much. But other times I'm thankful for my knowledge because I can pick and choose my medications more carefully rather than relying on a standard Rx from a vet. Then again, if I was an ignorant owner, I wouldn't know any better to begin with. . .

Abby's Last Fun Match

Who knew back in April that this would be Abby's last fun match. It makes me sad looking at this because I can see how truly happy she is. She is a bit distracted, but all her friends are hanging out just outside of the ring cheering her on. (who would've thought that Abby has FRIENDS!!!) Once I did get her focus back she RAN with her tail wagging the whole time.

Even though this video makes me sad, it still makes me happy because I can see that we went so far in such a short period of time. I mean, this was the dog that I had to teach how to jump - EVERY JUMP! Each obstacle was new, even if she had done it before, if it was in a new location, or even if it just looked different in any way, I had to start all over at the beginning. And this video, the first run of the day, shows exactly what dedication and determination can do.

You go, ABBY

We Don't Need No Stinking Titles

I read this earlier this week on a blog that I frequent regularly:

" What Is A Title Really?" by Sandy Mowery

Not just a brag, not just a stepping stone to a higher Title, not just an adjunct to competitive scores.

A Title is a tribute to the dog that bears it, a way to honor the dog, an ultimate memorial. It will remain in the record and in the memory for about as long as anything in this world can remain. Few humans will do as well or better in that regard. And though the dog himself doesn't know or care that his achievements have been noted, a Title says many things in the world of humans, where such things count.
A Title says your dog was intelligent, and adaptable, and good-natured. It says that your dog loved you enough to do the things that please you, however crazy they may have sometimes seemed. And a Title says that you loved your dog, that you loved to spend time with him because he was a good dog, and that you believed in him enough to give him yet another chance when he failed, and that in the end your faith was justified.
A Title proves that your dog inspired you to have the special relationship enjoyed by so few; that in a world of disposable creatures, this dog with a Title was greatly loved, and loved greatly in return. And when that dear short life is over, the Title remains as a memorial of the finest kind, the best you can give to a deserving friend, volumes of praise in one small set of initials before or after the name.

A Title is nothing less than love and respect, given and received permanently.

When I first read this I agreed completely. A title is a tribute to a dog and to the relationship that you have with that dog. It means that your dog was smart and adaptable and loved you enough to work for you. It means that you loved your dog and believed in your dog enough to spend the time and money it takes to earn titles. These are the reasons that I want titles for my dogs. And the drive for titles is why I am carefully thinking about my next dog.

But as I thought about this more, I realized that this isn't always true. There are many people who have titles on their dogs who do not necessarily do it because they love their dog. They do it because they love the titles and what having dogs with titles means for them as individuals. I think that this is a minority in the competitive dog world, but these people do exist.

I think that people like me, with dogs like Abby, is the other argument to this article. I spent a lot of time and a lot of money working with Abby in agility and we have no titles to show for it. I am spending even more time, and even more money with Abby in Rally, and we may never get a title there either. This doesn't mean that I don't love Abby enough, or that I don't believe in her enough. It also doesn't mean that Abby isn't smart enough or adaptable enough. And it sure as hell doesn't mean that I haven't worked with her enough to get those letters.

Even though I know that having titles doesn't matter and it doesn't prove my love or dedication to my dog, I still want them. I want them because of what it means to other people. A title will go into a record book, one that no one ever reads, but it will be there. And it will show that this Italian Greyhound called Abby did something special. Few people will ever know exactly how special it is or how much we worked through to earn those letters, but I will know. And while I am proud of Abby almost every day, a title will not only prove that Abby can do something special, it will prove that together, we can do something special.