The Incredible Adventures Of A Dog Named Curly Joe

Merry Christmas, Curly Joe!

2011-12-26T07:47:00.000-08:00

It's been almost a year since I updated last. Sorry. Curly Joe is still alive and well. In fact, he's a bit of a bastard. Haha! Really, he's healthy considering his liver issues. Just a happy little dog with lots of energy and a bit of an attitude. We're happy he's still with us, and we're pretty sure he feels the same way!

2010-02-11T04:46:00.000-08:00

The Terrible Two's

2010-02-10T06:16:00.000-08:00

Happy Belated New Year to one and all. I apologize for the lack of updates. You know how life gets.

Today's update is special because it is Curly Joe's second birthday! Or so it said on his adoption papers. I admit, I'd forgotten about it until I got an e-mail from Dogster wishing Curly happy birthday.

At obedience class last year, the trainer said that dogs are still pretty much puppies well into their second year. Well ... crap. I guess we'll have to put up with this a while longer. And by "this" I mean CURLY JOE. There's no end to his energy levels, and nothing ever gets him down. The rest of us are exhausted, but Curly Joe still wants to go go go. I'm grateful for this, of course. He's still a sick little dog in regards to his liver shunt, but he is maintaining very well on his supplements and special food. We ran his labs at my work and his bile acids came in at the high end of normal, so the vet suggested I put him on Denamarin, in addition to the Hepato Support and l/d food. In less than a week, there was a marked improvement in his health. I had thought he'd been looking a little "off" for a few weeks, and that confirmed it. The supplements are expensive, but if he needs them, he's going to get them.

I don't really have anything to report in regards to our little friend, and really, that's the best news. In December, our friend Aed and her two dogs moved in with us for a few weeks, and Curly Joe had a great time playing with them. Not that he doesn't enjoy Tank and Jackson's company, but Tankerbelle is old and arthritic and Jackson has bad knees, so neither of them are viable options for roughhousing. Aed's dogs were perfect for that. Video (and pardon the audio -- we were figuring out what to get from Pita Pocket):

And here he is, frolicking in our (thankfully) only snow this winter:

Last video, me trying to get Freddie to beat up Curly Joe. She loves it.

That's basically all I've got. Want some pictures? Here you go.

Tuckered out while the humans play Cranium:

I took this one when I got home from work this morning. As you can see, he still hates having his picture taken. But it was the best I could do for an impromptu birthday pic!

So that's about it. Curly Joe is doing well and running us all ragged. He is having some dominance issues which I'm trying to clear up. It might just be the new pecking order amongst the dogs, but he does tend to get protective of the strangest things (litter boxes, a pile of laundry, the couch, etc). There were a few recent incidences where Curly Joe and Tank got into a fight while I was at work. Nothing serious, but I still can't accept that kind of behavior from a dog. We'll have to work on it.

We took the dogs to Sauvie Island last summer. This year, I want to take them to the coast. As far as we know, only Tank has seen the ocean, and though we know none of them like to swim, it would at least be nice to get out and enjoy Oregon with the boys.

I hope you are all doing well. Curly Joe sends his love. Or rather, he would send his love if he weren't busy chewing on his Nylabone.

2009-09-16T09:43:00.000-07:00

Dog Days of Summer

2009-08-01T07:52:00.000-07:00

Update!

Hi, everyone. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. We're all fine here, don't worry. In May, Curly Joe's auntie LaShea (former foster mom) came out for a visit and he was so happy to see her! He totally flipped out. She got to see how big he got and what a bastard he's turned into. I'm just kidding. She already knew he was a bastard.

Still kidding! Here they are, saying goodbye. It's ok, though. She and her partner and their dogs are moving to Portland next year! We'll all be one big happy, demented family!

It's August, which means it's almost our Curlyversary! I'll have to bake him a little doggy cake or something. He's come so far in 12 months!

I haven't signed him up for Intermediate obedience classes yet, but I will. He's gotten rather unruly since May, and I take full responsibility for that. Still, he does remember what we learned. My sister just bought him a little doggy back pack so that we can put stuff in it on our walks. The idea is that it'll wear him out faster. He's just got so much energy!

I found another solution to that problem, too. I'm still working nights at the lab and feel like I never get to see/spend quality time with the dogs, so I've started walking them as soon as I get home in the morning. Lately, the puppy that lives on the corner has started joining us. It pissed me off at first because he was disrupting our Together Time, but I quickly came to enjoy his presence. I feel bad that he just sits outside that house all day (they don't let him indoors, he's not neutered and he doesn't wear a collar). I figure since Jackson and Tank are too rickety to roughhouse, this puppy (who I call Horace) is perfect for him. They both get to play and have fun for a little while.

Horace tries to eat Curly's brain, then decides it's not worth the effort. Too small a payoff.

Curly Joe thinks he's got the upper hand...

Think again, Curly Joe. I actually laughed so hard when this happened, my glasses flew off my face and landed in the ditch.

When we got home, I fed the minions and then hopped on the computer and all three dogs are passed out on the floor. SUCCESS!

So that is pretty much what's been going on. Jackson has settled into our family quite nicely. Curly Joe tries to play with him all the time, but Jackson doesn't have the knees for it. Getting a fourth dog is definitely within the realm of possibilities. We need a younger, "take charge" girl dog to keep Curly Joe's butt in line.

Oh, I forgot! We took the dogs to Sauvie Island a couple of weeks ago. It was Curly and Jackson's first trip and we were sad to find they both HATE water. We coaxed them in (Tank was the only one who swam, which is ironic because he's hated water since he was a puppy) but Curly just clung to me the entire time.

Aren't they handsome?

When a friend of mine saw the pictures of the dogs at the beach, she asked how I get them to just lay there. "I tell them to lie down and stay." And that's it.

Graduation!

2009-05-07T06:43:00.000-07:00

Guess who graduated? That's right, Curly did! I don'the know how, since he was an absolute bastard yesterday. Seriously! I was so embarassed. I'd played fetch with him before we left, too, but it apparently only served to give him even more energy. For class, we did "puppy push ups," which means we reviewed all the commands we'd learned, but out of order. Curly did well on that, but then we went out into the store for more reviews. Except Quinn was testing us, not the dogs. Well, I failed miserably. Faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiilllllledddd. Curly Joe wouldn'the listen to a single command. Quinn kept laughing and saying he had ADD and I was thinking, "Well, somebody here does, and it isn't the dog!" Then we went back to the ~~rink~~ room and tried to learn heel. I say "try" because CURLY WOULDN'T DO IT. I would lure him with a treat to sit by my leg. He would follow it for a few seconds and then walk off in the other direction. Quinn said it was the hardest thing to learn in Beginner class, so I wasn't too upset about it. It was like the dogs knew it was the last day of class and figured they didn't have to listen to a damn thing we said.

When it came down to the graduation ceremony, Quinn pulled out this yellow chicken and when she pressed the arm, it would play the graduation song. She walked over and gave Nita the Shepherd her certificate and congradulated her and loved on her. Then the chicken went into the chicken dance and she turned it off. Repeat for Ava, the Boston Terrier. Then came Curly Joe's turn. Holy crap, he did it! We did it! I give us an F+.

After "diplomas" were handed out, Quinn brought the graduation cap around and took pictures of all three dogs wearing it. Nita did the best.

Ava wouldn't sit for it, so her mom had to hold her up. So cute.

And as for Curly? Well, I'd been dreading this moment. I expected the Pirate Incident all over again, and that's exactly what it was. He tolerated the hat, but the look he gave me? Ouch.

I've never seen an animal so completely disgusted with me in all my life. And I wasn't even the one who put the hat on him! After pictures, we let the dogs have their final playtime. It was so sad.

Big, Medium, Small: Nita, Curly Joe and Ava get ready to rumble.

I kept encouraging Nita to chew him up, but she was far too polite to try such a thing.

Who's the biggest asshole in class? Curly Joe is! (I'm kidding, my dog isn't an asshole.) When he gets too rambunctious, Quinn makes him take a brief time out. Like when he does what I like to call Boston Bowling. Ava seems to enjoy it (fall over onto her back and slap Curly Joe's face with all four of her paws), but Curly gets overstimulated. Look at this face. This is the look of a dog on the edge.

And here is Curly Joe watching Nita walk out of his life, probably forever. *tear*

I admit, I teared up at graduation. Not because I'm overly sentimental, but because I was thinking about how far Curly Joe has come. A year ago he was just a sick little puppy that nobody wanted. Eight months ago, he was in critical care. Just one phone call away from being euthanized. And now look at him. He's in his doggy teens, he's got a forever home. His liver is still fucked up, but he's doing well on his special food (and the Hepato Support and 3V). He has two big brothers and is well on the way to becoming a kick ass therapy dog. Incredible adventures, indeed.

Before we left, I told Quinn Curly Joe and I would be back for the Intermediate class. I just have to figure out how/when I can work it into my schedule. And then, because he's such a good little dog, I bought Curly Joe two presents: a new toy, and a box to put it (and the rest of them) in.

In exactly a week, Curly Joe's Auntie LaShea (foster mom) is going to be here! I can't wait for the reunion. Hopefully he doesn't shame me again....

To be continued...

Obedience Class - Week Seven

2009-04-29T19:59:00.000-07:00

Today wrapped up the last-but-one obedience class for Curly Joe. I feel like we just started and learned absolutely nothing, but obviously that's not true.

Next week is graduation! Bring your family and your cameras! Quinn says she has lots of fun stuff planned, and she makes the dogs wear silly graduation hats. After the pirate mishap, I'm pretty sure Curly Joe won't want anything to do with the hat, but we'll see.

Today, we went out into the store and practiced all the things we've learned so far; mostly the proper way to greet people and dogs, and the "leave it." And, most important, loose-leash walking. Curly Joe is aces at this inside the store, but when we walk outside, he's pulling like he's gunning for first in the Iditarod. As usual, there was nobody in the store except for employees and our classmates, but that's fine.

Once we were back in the "room" (rink), Quinn had us work on three new activities, all involving the Stay command. First, we had to put our dogs in the Sit position, then tell them to stay. Then we were to turn around. If the dog moved, we say "uh uh," put them back in stay and repeat the command. Curly Joe did really well at this. Then we did the same thing except crouching down and tugging on their leash. If they stayed, that was good. If not, try it again. Third, we crouched down and messed with our bags or a chair.

After that, Quinn talked about grooming, nails and ears. She had us sniff our dog's ears to see if they smelled bad. I sniffed Curly Joe, not wanting to get into that whole "I have no sense of smell" thing. I'm a little jealous because says one of her dog's ears smells like chocolate. Okay, I'm a lot jealous.

She asked how often we trim our dog's nails, and I said every couple of weeks. "I either get him while he's sleeping, or my sister holds him on his back." For some reason, everyone thought this was hysterical. Every time Quinn looked at Curly Joe, he would flatten his ears. She said, "I love how his ears fall when I look at him. He looks like Yoda!"

I think she's sweet on Curly.

As for grooming, she went through brushes and combs and said how much she loves the FURminator. Heehee.

At the end of class, we had Play Time. There was a black lab puppy present for the entire class. He belonged to the trainer-in-training, and his name was Happy. He had on a little vest that said, "In training - please don't pet me," and pretty much slept the entire time. Quinn let him loose to play with the others, and Curly Joe immediately latched onto him. Happy was probably around seven or eight months old and was still bigger than Curly. Ava (the Boston Terrier) launched herself at me and landed on my chest. Then she ran off and drank water the rest of the time. Curly Joe was the most annoying dog there, and Quinn had to keep breaking them up. And here I'd played fetch with him before class and everything!

Anyway, that was pretty much the gist of it. After class, I got worksheets (and coupons) for weeks 2 and five, which I'd missed (and made up). Curly Joe was so worn out, he slept the whole way home.

Once we got home, Sis and I took all three dogs for a walk together. I love a good, mismatched set of mutts.

See you next week!

Big brother.

2009-04-26T18:32:00.000-07:00

Curly Joe has a new brother. Yesterday, my sister adopted a dog. His name is Jackson, and he is a 5 year old Mastiff/Shep mix. He had surgery in January and will probably need another in a couple of years, but he is a very sweet, mild-mannered dog. Tank and Curly loved him immediately, but it took him a few minutes to get used to them, Curly Joe in particular. This morning, they were all playing in the yard together, so we have hope that it won't be long before they're all BFFs. The best part is, Tank is happier than I've seen him in almost three years, since before Luke died. I know he likes having Curly Joe around, but I think it must be that he feels better the more dogs he has around him. Also, Curly Joe is intimidated by large dogs. Jackson looked at him for a split second, and Curly fell over and exposed his belly to him.

If I can get them all to stand still long enough, I'll take a picture of all three boys lined up by height. We have stackable dogs, almost!

Obedience Classes - Weeks Five and Six

2009-04-22T18:26:00.000-07:00

We missed last week's class. Don't judge me.

Obediently, I called Quinn right away to set up a time to make up last week's class, and Curly Joe and I arrived a half hour early to class this afternoon. Quinn said that Week Five is the easiest class to make up, so that made me feel better. We worked more on the on-leash "come" command out in the store, except this time, after Curly Joe had obeyed the command (and I marked the good behavior with an enthusiastic "yes!"), I had to make him sit before I put his lead on and then give him a treat. No problem. Curly Joe is happy to do anything and everything if there's something delicious on the other end of it.

Next, we went to the small animal section and worked on Curly Joe staying in the "stay" position while I tried to distract him by talking to rats and hamsters. He did well with that, too. And that was pretty much the gist of it. At 4:30, Ava (the boston) and Nina (the GSD) showed up and we got down to brass tacks.

This week, we learned two things (well, ok. More than two, but I'parallel get to that later.): how to act appropriately around people and other dogs. Quinn told us to take the dogs out into the store, and if we came upon a customer (or an employee) who wanted to pet our dogs, we were to put them in the sit/stay position and have them sit calmly while the person pet them. If the person wasn't interested in petting our dogs, we were to reward the dogs anyway with a pat on the head. Figures, there wasn't anyone in the store. Well, there was one woman pushing her kid around in a shopping cart but she looked like she'd rather slam her hand in a car door than pet one of our dogs. Which is kind of weird because she was in a pet store. But I digress. I found some employees to sic Curly one (haha) and he did ok. He gets overexcited when you give him attention. Totally fine to come and sit on command, but once you lean over to pet him, he loses his shit. A couple of times I had to walk him in a circle and try again.

For the dogs, we were to put our pooches in a sit/stay and have them wait until we told them to "go play" or "say hello." Then they were allowed to go over and sniff or play with the other dog. After a few seconds, we were to say "Let's go" and walk away, even if the dogs were still playing. We ran into Nina and her mom a couple of times, which made me happy. I miss my Lukenstein, so I have a soft spot for Nina the GSD.

After that, we all went back to the "rink" and Quinn talked to us about nutrition and dog food and also which bones were the best to give our dogs. (She recommends Nylabones and marrow bones, if anyone's interested. Rawhide = no no.)

That was pretty much the class for the day, and Quinn ended it on a fun note (as always): the shake command. She loves to teach tricks, which is something I was never into except that Tank picked up on the "paw" thing really quick and we made a little game out of it. He'll keep giving you one paw then the other, then the other again, then the other until the world ends. One of the techs at my vet's office saw him doing that and said, "Are you shitting me? He's river dancing!"

Where was I? Oh, right. So Curly doesn'the know that one. Quinn showed me how to teach him to do it by having him sit and then holding a treat out for him to nibble while she used her other hand to kind of poke at the back of his leg. When he lifted it to get away from her, she said, "yes!" and fed him the treat. She did this one or two more times and then had me try it.

The pointy-eared bastard refused to give me his paw. He nibbled at the treat but when I poked at his leg, he glanced down at my hand like he was two seconds away from biting it off. I badgered him into obeying once, but after that he was done with it. I wasn'the going to bother, but now I'm going to keep practicing this trick just to spite him.

Lessons were over, then came the fun part: PLAY TIME! This time, Quinn had us put the dogs all in a sit/stay and then we told them to go play. And boy, did they play. The really great thing for me over these last few weeks has been to see Nina open up and enjoy being a dog. Her "owner" only got her about a month ago, and at first (at class), she was hesitant and unsure of herself. When we let the dogs play, she didn'the really know how to react and was very twitchy and nervous. This afternoon was the first time I'd seen her flat-out enjoy herself. She played with Curly Joe and Ava and even managed to pin Curly Joe once or twice. Curly will bash the hell out of tiny little Ava, but with Nina, he's all, "OH MY GOD PLEASE DON'T EAT ME."
Rolls over onto his back and stops just short of pissing himself. But Nina just played and played. It kind of made me feel bad, though. At home, Curly Joe doesn't have anyone to rough house with, as Tank is almost 12 and just wants to hang out with me and chew on a bone. So Curly has no one to play with (most of the time - Tank does tussle with him), and Tank doesn't get a moment's peace. Then we get to class, and he has so much fun tumbling with these two other dogs.

Anyway. Ava's mom said Curly Joe had the cutest face she's ever seen on a dog. If I had a dime for every time someone told me that, I'd be rich.

After class, I told Quinn that I was interested in training Curly Joe to be a therapy dog, and wondered what/if there was anything I should be doing in addition to this class to prepare him for it. She asked what sort of therapy I was interested in and I told her I wanted to take him into nursing homes. She said that I should really work with Curly Joe on calm behavior, not jumping and staying on a sit/stay position. She also said to get him used to being around wheelchairs and elderly people. I told her my mom was disabled and Curly Joe was used to being around her and her chair, and she said that was perfect and to work with him on sitting politely next to my mom while she pets him. This will be tricky because my mom (even though I tell her repeatedly when we come over to ignore the dogs until they calm down and NOT to let them jump on her) let's the dogs go nuts when they see her.

Quinn also said that she focuses a lot on the CGC in the intermediate class (which I'd already planned on signing Curly Joe up for), and that I can check the calendar and come take Quinn also said that she focuses a lot on the CGC in the intermediate class (which I'd already planned on signing Curly Joe up for), and that I can check the calendar and come take the test with Curly. It's ten bucks and even if he doesn't pass, I'll still get an idea of what we'll need to work on. Basically, Curly Joe would get the same test as the other dogs, except that since I want to take him into nursing homes, they would throw in a person on crutches or in a wheelchair for when Curly has to walk through (and obey me in) a crowd. with Curly. It's ten bucks and even if he doesn't pass, I'll still get an idea of what we'll need to work on. Basically, Curly Joe would get the same test as the other dogs, except that since I want to take him into nursing homes, they would throw in a person on crutches or in a wheelchair for when Curly has to walk through (and obey me in) a crowd.

And that's pretty much it. Two more weeks left, can you believe it? I can't. I don't want it to end.

I realized something in class today: Every week I agonize over how much Curly Joe still has to learn, but I realized from something Quinn said that it's not like he has to learn EVERYTHING we go over by the next class. I've been so busy thinking I have to get him 100% on everything every week that I get overwhelmed and frustrated. And that's no fun for Curly Joe.

On the way home, he passed out in the back seat. I'd taken him and Tank out into the big yard before class and played fetch with him for 15 minutes. That, plus play-time with Big and Small (Nina and Ava), really wore him out. SUCCESS!

LaShea (Curly Joe's auntie and former foster mother) is coming to Portland for a visit in a couple of weeks. I put in for vacation time (what a luxury! I love my job!!!!) so we'll all have plenty of time for fun. I just really hope I will have worked with Curly Joe well enough to not shame myself when she gets here...

See you next week!

Obedience Classes - Week Four

2009-04-08T19:32:00.000-07:00

Well, we survived Week 4! That means we're halfway through the class. Seems to be going by really fast, and I know I'm not putting enough effort into Curly Joe's training. After today's class, I've gotten a bit of my confidence back. Sis came with, as we needed to do some shopping. The deal was, she would go to Costco to pick up our cat's meds and injections. She sat in the class for a little bit and then went out to run errands.

Today we learned Stay. Curly Joe caught in pretty quick (as he's wont to do when food is involved). Next, Quinn had us go out into the store to practice the "come" command. Curly Joe and I went first. I took off his leash and she clipped a really long lead to his collar. The lesson was to show Curly Joe a treat, then walk five or six isles down and turn around. When I was ready, I was to say, "Curly Joe, come." As soon as he started to move toward me, I was to mark the behavior with an enthusiastic "Yes!" and then grab his collar when he got to me, give him a treat and then wait for Quinn to come over so I could walk back and do it again. Mina (the shep) went next, then Ava (the boston terrier). I love Mina to pieces because she reminds me of Luke; just this giant ball of happy with ever so subtle undertones of batshitcrazy. She moves like she has no idea who's controlling her body.

But I digress. Quinn had us do this twice and then head back to the "rink."

I forgot -- earlier in the class, Quinn had had us walk our dogs down a couple of isles where she had planted "booby traps." Bags of treats or toys all along the isles, and we were to walk the dogs along and tell them to "leave it" when they went for something. Curly Joe did really well at this, too. He wasn't really interested in grabbing anything; he was just sniffing at them.

So after the "come" lesson, we went back to the "rink" and learned some more doggy stuff. I have to work with Curly on the "come" command, especially outdoors. When we're outside, he very rarely comes when I call him. Neither does Tank, but that's mostly because he's going deaf. But I'm trying to train Curly Joe to watch me when we're out there, and I think it's working. I loose-leash walked him around the yard before class (and also played fetch with him for about 20 minutes), and I could see out of the corner of my eye that Curly Joe was looking up at me from time to time. He knows to sit when I give the hand signal, too. I need to work with him more on the "down" signal, though. But anyway, I have to think up an "emergency" word for Curly Joe. It's the word I use when it's serious and I need him to come Right Now. There's more to it, but for the life of me, I can't remember. Even with the meds, I have trouble keeping things straight.

After class, Me, Curly and the boston terrier stayed behind to make up Week Two, which was "sit" and basic behavioral problems. Curly Joe knows sit, so we skipped that part, but every problem Quinn asked about, Curly Joe had. Embarrassing! Nipping? Check. Jumping? Check. Digging? Check. She gave me tips on how to deal with all of these things, and I brought up Curly Joe's penchant for cat-chasing, and also how I don't like how he plays with Tank (bites his "ankles"). The cat thing, I basically have to teach Curly Joe that, when a cat comes into the room (or runs by), he gets yummies if he doesn't try and chase them. With the nipping, I just stand up and ignore him for 3-5 minutes when he nibbles. It'll be a lot of work, trying to cure him of these habits, but I'll do it.

While Quinn was talking, I suddenly heard a bang behind me. I turned around and there was a giant Akita staring at me. After the lesson was completed, I walked Curly out into the store and we ran into the Akita and her "sister," a giant Newfoundland mix (who I wanted to hug and squeeze squish her ooshy face). Quinn was behind us, and she walked up to the Akita and gave her a big hug and said, "I love you I love you I love you!" Every Akita I ever saw when I worked as a tech was a big old 8-ball (bite/attack without provocation), so ... I guess there are nice Akitas out there in the world. I started to pull Curly Joe away, but Quinn asked me to leave him for a minute so she could see how the two big dogs did with him. They were mostly like, "Son, I shit bigger than you." Curly Joe, for his part, seemed really, really intimidated by them but completely unable to resist interacting with them. This mostly involved him walking under them to sniff around. When the Newfie turned to have her turn at sniffing, Curly Joe fell over onto his back and exposed his belly to her.

When they have off-leash play at the end of class, Curly Joe always rumbles with Ava. I'm positive this is because he either likes being the Big Dog, or he's afraid of big dogs. Poor Mina the Shepherd wants to play but Curly's too busy rolling Ava like a bowling ball. To Ava's credit, she never backs down from Curly Joe.

So all in all, the lesson went well. After class, Sis and I did some shopping. She insisted I get some smaller tennis balls for Curly Joe; she says the regular sized ones are too big for him, but I disagree. Plus, I'm worried hell shock one the smaller ones. We'll see.

I, again, forgot to talk to Quinn about eventually training Curly Joe to be therapy dog. D'oh.

To wrap things up, here are a few more recent pictures:

See you next week!

P.S. Playing fetch before class paid off: Curly Joe was more well behaved this time around, and towards the end he was just flopped out on his side. Exercise GOOD!

Obedience Classes - Week Three

2009-04-01T18:34:00.000-07:00

That's right. We missed Week Two. It's okay, though. We're going to make it up next week after Week Four. Confused? Good.

Last Wednesday (which would have been Week Two), I was sick and we missed class. I left a message for Quinn and she got back to me today, saying we could make up the class at 4:00. Unfortunately, I didn't wake up until 3:30, so that was out. When we got to class, there was a third dog in our group: a little boston terrier named Ava. Mia the shepherd was there, and then there was Curly Joe. There was another girl there, who I think works for Petsmart but was just observing the class? She said Curly Joe had the cutest face she's ever seen on a dog. Quinn said Curly Joe looked like he'd gotten a little bigger. I'm not sure if she meant fat-big or just big-big, but I have been feeding Curly less these days. He's pushing 40 pounds now and getting a bit ... flub. It's all my fault, feeling sorry for him and his messed up liver. I'm like my mom: FIX EVERYTHING WITH FOOD! I'm really good about scraps, though. Curly Joe only gets his l/d. The only time he gets treats is when we're at class.

Anyway. Today we did some loose leash exercises. We took the dogs out into the store and walked with them. When Curly Joe pulled on the leash, I stopped. When he turned back, I would say "let's go" and start walking again. It's really hard for me to do these exercises because I get so nervous in public. My whole life I've tried to blend in with the background. I don't like to be noticed or called attention to. So these classes are as much a challenge for me as they are for Curly Joe. Scratch that. The classes aren't a challenge for him - they're fun. So I'm trying to learn from him and relax and focus on the task at hand, but it's hard. I have such a fear of failure that I often screw up before I even begin.

Curly Joe did okay on the loose leash exercise, though I admit I got flustered and probably didn't do it well enough. Last week's class touched on "sit" and basic behavioral problems. Curly Joe knows sit well enough, so it wasn't anything crucial to moving on to Week Three. Our next exercise today was the "down" position. We didn't say anything, just held the treat up until our dogs sat down and then moved the treat (palm down) slowly to the floor until the dogs lay down. It took Curly Joe a few tries to catch on because he's completely obsessed with Ava.

That's another thing: I will never take Curly to class again without exercising him first. He was so obnoxious, I was embarassed. So next week we're going for a long walk and having a rousing game of fetch before class. Worn Out Curly is much more attentive than Wide Awake Curly.

Next we worked on take it and leave it. Curly Joe caught on pretty quick, though I kind of flubbed the exercise. I blame the ADD. I think I'll be better able to focus on everything when I'm at home and not so self-conscious. I'll go over everything with my sister, too, so that we're all on the same boat in regards to how to deal with Curly and his "indisrections."

Eventually, we're going to get to a point where Curly Joe will heel and walk with his collar lined up with the seam of my pants. Somehow...I can't imagine that ever happening, but that's stinkin' thinkin'. I shouldn't be projecting my own insecurities onto my poor dog. Okay, so he's a bit of a shit, but he's still young enough where we can work on it and get him behaving properly. Dogs love to have something to do; Curly Joe is up for anything. Our goal is not only to have a well-behaved dog, but to have a well-behaved dog capable of passing the canine good citizen test (with the intention of then becoming a therapy dog).

Huh! I just looked for information on the CGC and it turns out Quinn, Curly Joe's (and my) trainer, is an evaluator! I'll have to mention the whole therapy dog thing next week.

After "take it/leave it," Quinn let the dogs play, on-leash at first. I was worried Curly Joe would smash Ava, but her "parents" assured me she could take it. Well, all right then. Quinn let us unleash them and they played well together. Curly Joe got a little too jumpy, but Quinn supervised everything and got into the mix when things got too rambunctious. I felt bad for Mia (the shep) because Curly was so focused on little Ava. I love dogs, but I've never quite gotten the little dog "thing." I like a dog you can wrestle with, not carry around in your purse. Which isn't to say I wouldn't love a dachshund or a pug! Working as a tech, I just saw far too many people with little dogs who treated them like babies, and it really annoyed the hell out of me, especially when the dogs turned into 8-balls because of it.

But I digress.

Week Four next week! Ava's parents and I decided to tack Week Two on right after next week's class. I'll get home around 6 p.m. with plenty of time to feed the animals and get ready for work.

I feel bad leaving the house without Tank, but I'm going to put peanut butter in his Goodie Ship and freeze it so he'll have a nice treat ALL TO HIMSELF while we're out learning how to Be Good. Plus, Auntie Grubby hangs out with him and keeps him happy.

So that concludes Week Three. We've got a lot to learn, but I've got my binder and Quinn's phone number if I have any questions. I'm just proud of myself for following through with this and proud of Curly Joe for being so eager to learn. Tank has been owner protective his entire life, and I was too stupid back then to realize the damage my social anxiety did to my dog. It's a new thing to me to have a dog I can take out in public without worrying about him barking at everyone who stares at him. I wish there was something I could do to help Tank get over that because being scared is a bad thing, and I hate seeing him upset. He's the only joy of my life and I feel like I let him down.

Obedience Classes - Week One

2009-03-18T19:23:00.000-07:00

Week One of obedience class was so much fun. Call it fate, but it was only me and another girl in the class, and she has a big old german shepherd. A ten month old female named Nina, I think. She got her a week ago from someone on Craigslist who couldn't be bothered trying to train a gorgeous, fun-loving dog. DIE IN A FIRE, but I digress. Quinn is our trainer, and she asked if (since nobody else showed up) we minded a small class. Neither of us did. I think it would be good for Curly to have lots of stimulation and exposure to other dogs, but considering my ADD, I think it's probably a good thing that it's just the two (well, five) of us. (Six if you count Quinn's dog, who either slept in her bed or stared at Quinn the entire time.)

Quinn started out the class by having us introduce ourselves and talk about issues we want to address in the next eight weeks. I said that I wanted to curb Curly Joe's OMGCHASETHECATS issue, and basically just teach him manners and obedience.

Quinn said that she wasn't here to train our dogs, she was here to train us. Amen to that.

I should mention that, before we left for class, Sis and I had been out in the big yard with the dogs, and Curly Joe pretty much wore himself out tearing around in the leaves. When we got to Petsmart, Curly transformed from Demon to Waif, and when we got into the rink --- what I call the training area because it's basically a teeny tiny ice rink without the ice. Boards. Glass. The works. All that's missing is a zamboni --- and I sat down on a stool, Curly Joe crawled under it and stayed there the entire time. He also slept a lot. SCORE!

His classmate, Nina, kept whining and barking and Quinn would squirt her (or near her) with her water bottle. Curly did some whining himself and was rewarded with some spritzes. He looked at me like, "Holy crap! I can't believe that just happened to me! Did you see that?"

Quinn gave us clickers, but she said we didn't have to use them in class. Thank gad. I hate those things. We did do some exercises with them, and Curly Joe responded well.

Our homework this week is to work on the "watch me" command. Or the beginnings of it, anyway. She wants us to build on having our dogs maintain eye contact with us so that we can get them trained to watch us. Remember how I said Curly Joe won't take food from my hand? Now he will. I did basically the SAME DAMN THING I do at home. Quinn had us take some treats, put one between our first and second fingers. Hold the treat down for the dog to sniff, then bring our fingers up to our face next to our eye. When the dog maintains eye contact for a second or two, we look away, say "Yes!" (or a positive word of our choosing) and give them the treat. Curly gobbled those treats like they were going out of style. We did some clicker exercises, too, but just to see how they did with them. When we got home, I clicked the clicker when it was in my pocket and Curly Joe immediately sat down and started at Sis (who was making her lunch). Whooda thunk the little shit could be trained? I kid because I love.

So Quinn is all about hand signals, which I love. If you're in a crowded or hectic place and you want your dog to listen to you, he's not always going to respond to verbal commands. If he's trained to keep an eye out for hand signals, you can guarantee he'll always be mindful and paying attention to where you are.

I'm looking forward to learning more as the weeks progress. We got our own binders and every week Quinn is going to give us a worksheet and a coupon for treats. After class, I walked Curly around the store, bought some cat litter and used the coupon to buy a bag of treats. I'm going to get a couple of bags of treats to so that Curly doesn't get bored with them. I'm also going to use ~~Luke's~~ his tennis ball as a non-food reward. I'll only take it out when we work at home, that way he knows it's his special reward for doing well.

We got binders and homework, did I mention? Homework this week is to work on the "Watch Me" command and potty training. Curly Joe is house trained (except if I have to leave him home for a few hours; he'll usually pee in the laundry room), so we'll just be working on the "watch me." I figure we'll take the dogs for a long walk and then I'll work with Squirrely afterward. That worked out really well at class this afternoon, because Curly Joe passed out under my chair almost the entire time. Quinn says our training sessions should only be a few minutes long. Maybe a few minutes before we go to work and a few minutes when we get home. Surely I can manage that. I'll be sharing everything I learn with my sister so that she can keep up with the training while I'm at work.

I'm just really excited and glad to finally be doing this. I put it off for far too long.

I had a lot more to say, but I've got to make my lunch and do some stuff before work.

Tune in next week!

Countdown to obedience

2009-03-16T02:48:00.000-07:00

In two days, Curly Joe and I start obedience classes. I haven't taken a dog to obedience classes in ... over 20 years. This ought to be fun. I dosed Curly with Frontline last night and trimmed his nails the night before last. That was a surprise; normally he kicks up a big fuss, but he was lying on the frontroom floor, basking in the warmth of the pellet fire, and I figured I'd play with his paws. He protested a little at first, but once he realized I was trimming his nails whether he liked it or not, he just lay back down. LaShea and Chad did a great job of desensitizing him when he was a puppy, but now that his health is better and he's found his place in the house (i.e. Dennis the Menace), it's a toss-up whether or not he'll let me cut his nails.

I'm interested to see how he'll do in a class setting. The last time I took him to Petco (the classes are at Petsmart), he was really intimidated. I think the smells overwhelmed him because when we all met up in Colorado last August, he did just fine when we all went inside the Stanley Hotel.

I'm interested to see how I do, too. I'm pretty shy and being out in public usually freaks me out. I'm not good at small talk and never know what to say to people, so I'm really hoping Curly Joe doesn't pick up on any of my anxiety.

Class starts at 4:30, so I want to be up in time to take him for a walk or at least play with him out in the yard before we go. You know, to burn off some of that extra energy so he'll pay attention in class.

The vet wants to see Curly in soon to recheck his bloodwork. Thankfully, I get free labwork through my job, so I can pretty much get any tests I want and not have to worry about breaking the bank. Hopefully he's doing ok. Or as ok as a dog with a messed up liver can be. He's still a little porky, so I need to really step up on the walks. I've lost ten pounds in the last month, so I'm really motivated now to keep us all up and moving. Especially now that our nails are all short and pretty.

Recent pictures (as always, click to enlarge):

I slept on the couch a couple nights (days, whatever) last week because I wanted the warmth and comfort of the pellet fire. The boys fell asleep as soon as they settled down in their bed.

Last week, we got a package from LaShea and Chad and in it (amongst other things) was a DVD Chad had made from when they were fostering Curly Joe. We finally got to see his curly ears!!!! I haven't had time to watch the whole thing, but what I've seen so far is both adorable and hysterical. It's really sad because Curly Joe lived outdoors for so long, he didn't know it was okay to come in the house. He'd follow their dogs (Samus and Sheba) to the door and then sit down. Gahhh. Of course, he doesn't have that problem anymore. He runs everywhere and usually doesn't stop until he hits something.

The other night, I swear to god, he said "Murphy."

March Pupdate

2009-03-05T03:43:00.000-08:00

(Since Curly Joe turned a year old last month, I guess I can't call them "pupdates" anymore. Sad!)

Hey everybody!

Quick little update: Curly Joe is still alive and well. And ... fat. Yeah, he's fat. I MADE HIM FAT. I have officially turned into my mother.

Because he's sick (inwardly, anway), I find myself feeding him more than I should. It'd be fine if I walked him enough to compensate, but I don't. Since I am apparently pretty badly vitamin D deficient (thanks, night shift), I need to really get the dogs out after I wake up in the afternoon. The exercise is good for us all, and I'll get all the sun I need. In the meantime, I am taking a supplement. The days are getting longer, which means more daylight, so that will help.

The Big News is, I finally signed Curly up for obedience classes! I went through Petsmart because Petco does clicker training and I kind of hate clickers. Petsmart has a clicker class, but it's nothing to do with the regular ones. Thank gad.

It took a few minutes, talking to one of the employees on the phone, to dig up a class that would fit my schedule, but we found one that starts on the 18th that will probably do just fine. I picked that one because the class meets on Wednesdays at 4:30. I have every other Wednesday off, so that works out well. I could have done Saturday (which I also have every other one off), but the classes started too early. I get home between five and six in the morning and the classes meet at ten. I'm usually in bed by 7:30, so ... no. Not going to work.

In the meantime, I'm going to work on hand feeding Curly Joe. Every now and then he shows a bit of toy aggression, and I plan to nip that in the bud. My dog Luke was toy/food aggressive when we rescued him, and I hand fed him, one kibble at a time, for two weeks, then one handful at a time for another two weeks and never had a problem after that. I've attempted this with Curly a few times over the last week and the boy flat out refuses to take food from my hand. My sister said maybe it's a sign of submission, but I don't think so. I feed the animals after I eat, and when I attempt to hand feed Curly, I hold the food up by my eyes so he sees me and knows that the food is coming from me (because I say so), I hand him the kibble and he doesn't eat it. So we're going to work on that. I also need to get a bin for the dogs' toys.

So that's what we've been up to. I'm pretty sure Curly Joe weighs more than 30 pounds now. Bit of pudge around the middle, yes. Happens to us all.

The other day, I let the dogs out, completely forgetting I'd left the front gate open to bring a couple bags of wood pellets in for the fire. A few minutes later, I opened the door to call the dogs in. Tank trotted over, but I had to call Curly a few times. I could hear his tags jingling, so I figured he'd squeezed through a hole in the small fence and was out "playing" with the geese in the big yard. (He calls it playing, they call it "DIE, PUPPY, DIE.") Nope. The little bastard comes running down the ROAD, just as happy as can be. I probably should have freaked out, but mainly I was pleased that he came when I called him, especially considering he had probably been playing with the two corgis down the street.

See? (Click on the photos to embiggen.)

Oh, what the heck. More pictures, anyone?

Stormtroopers don't have puppies or Santa Claus. Isn't that sad?

Driving up to see my mom. I'm happy at least one of my dogs doesn't get carsick.

Bedtime!

I actually feel really bad about my schedule, in regards to the dogs. Tank doesn't mind since he's old and sleeps more, but Curly Joe is a young'un. The dogs sleep while I'm at work, then I come home, feed them and we go to bed. So they pretty much just sleep all the time. That's why I need to make more of an effort to walk them every day. Bored puppies are destructive, ANNOYING puppies.

Curly Joe's foster mom, designerd, is going to be in Portland for a visit in a couple of months. This little dog is probably going to explode when he's reunited with her. He'll be so happy! Hopefully she won't laugh at how fat he is or make fun of his wattle.

Well, that's about it. Wish us luck with the classes! It'll be good for both of us, I'm sure, and just think: this is the first step toward eventually getting Curly Joe trained as a therapy dog.

Happy Birthday, Curly Joe!

2009-02-02T16:48:00.001-08:00

Update.

2009-01-25T22:27:00.001-08:00

Curly Joe is alive and well. Hyper as ever. I'm ashamed to say I still haven't signed him up for puppy classes; my excuse is that it's hard to find the time now that I work night shift. He needs it, though, and I'm going to do my best to get him straightened out.

Still no word from the doctor about finding someone who can fix his shunt, but I'm choosing to remain hopeful. In the meantime, he seems to be hanging in there with his special food, Hepato Support and lots of TLC. Last week, I let him out to go potty and heard all this noise on the front porch. I opened the door and saw Curly, jumping and darting around. All three geese had their heads stretched through the slats in the porch railing and Curly Joe was playing with them as they snapped at him. Now, they wanted to kill him, but to a puppy, it's a Fantastic New Game. He was having the time of his life.

Guess what? Curly Joe turns a year old in a week (Feb 2nd).

2009

2008-12-31T19:32:00.000-08:00

Curly Joe (and Tank) wanted me to wish everyone a Happy New Year. I had to get a jump on it because I'll actually be at work when the clock strikes midnight. Thanks for tuning in to this blog and for all the love and support. It's hard to believe Curly Joe has only been here for four months, especially since his birthday is in February. He's been urinating a lot, and I'm pretty sure it's because of his liver issues. I may take him to the vet on Friday, just to check things out. He's not acting any differently, just drinking and peeing a lot, like when we first got him.

Anyway, here's to Good Things in the year to come. We wish you all the best.

For the rest of us

2008-12-23T23:22:00.000-08:00

Happy Festivus, everybody!

Curly Joe wasn't feeling well last night. He vomited (food) three or four times and was really restless. I've only had him for four months, so I'm still learning how to read him. My other dogs I had for 12 years or more and I knew them better than the back of my own hand. When they weren't feeling well, I usually knew why and what to do for them. Curly Joe has a serious liver problem, and it's something I've never encountered before. I can't tell when it's just a bad puppy day and when it's a bad liver day, so when he isn't feeling well, I have to work hard not to freak out.

My main concern last night was cleaning up the puke before Curly Joe inhaled it again (gagggg), but his gums were nice and pink, he wasn't dehydrated and he didn't react when I palpated his abdomen. I know for a fact he's peeing and pooping okay, so that wasn't the problem. It looked like there were bits of paper towel in his vomit, so I figured it was just regular old garbage gut. He didn't eat dinner and he didn't eat breakfast this morning, and that was fine. One thing I learned working as a vet tech, when an animal vomits, you put them on NPO for 24 hours. When I fed the inmates this evening, Curly Joe ran upstairs and sat by his bowl, so I knew he was feeling better. Not wanting to push things, I gave him about a quarter of what he normally eats. He ate slowly, but finished it all, so I think he'll be ok.

I was really nervous because with all this snow we've gotten, I'm pretty sure we couldn't have made it out to the vet if it had been serious.

This afternoon we had some fun out in the big yard. Since we got him, I've been nervous about letting Curly out into the big yard because the fence on the south side of the property is old and our neighbors' dog is always getting through somehow. I was worried Curly would find the hole and escape. However, I keep forgetting that dogs need a pack, and that wherever Tank goes, Curly follows. Tank has never run away once in his life (except for the time he jumped out my window -the day after he was neutered- ran to the front of the house and sat by the door to wait for me); he's only interested in sniffing, so I know that he'll stay in the yard and hopefully so will the puppy.

At any rate, Sis and I were out in the yard trying to fix a busted pipe. The dogs busted out of the yard and ran around in the snow. They were having so much fun, I didn't have the heart to make them go back into the little yard. And really, Curly Joe isn't going to learn anything if I don't let him get out and explore.

We haven't had any water here for a week and we ran out of wood pellets the other day. With all the snow/ice/more snow we've had, we haven't been able to get to the store. This afternoon, a guy from the plant nursery across the road helped dig us out of the driveway and put our snow chains on, and my sister was able to drive to the little store a couple miles down the road. She bought pellets and a few provisions, so tonight we and the animals were nice and toasty warm. I think it was a combination of good, strong heat and an afternoon frolicking in the snow that made Curly Joe sleep so much. He's been quiet all night, but still frisky and lovable when you say hello to him. For my part, I was so unbelievably relaxed (and, more importantly, warm), I dozed off in the middle of the Bruins/Devils game.

I'm sad that I won't be able to make a special First Christmas for Curly Joe, but the important thing is that he's even here for his first Christmas. Honestly, animals don't give a shit about holidays. It's just nice to include them in our celebrations, and I know my mom was really looking forward to us coming up to her house for Christmas. I was going to buy the dogs some new toys (since Curly Joe hoards them), too. I guess I'll just have to tell them Santa caught an updraft and won't be able to stop by until the weekend.

Pictures? Okay!

My car is under there. Somewhere.

It's like he fell asleep mid-scratch.

I have a ton more, but snow is snow. I spent 26 years buried under the stuff every winter, and when I moved out to Portland, I thumbed my nose at the thought of buying a snow shovel. Boy do I wish I had a snow shovel right now. Portland doesn't have very many plows (it hasn't snowed like this since the 60's), and they don't use salt for environmental reasons. They put down some sort of de-icing chemical, the purpose of which seems to be to make the roads five times slicker than actual ice, so when it does snow, the whole city shuts down. Growing up in Chicago, in all the years I was in school, we never once got a snow day. When we started attending the local community college, my sister and I went to class when it was 80 below (with the wind chill). We went home for lunch between classes, got stuck in the driveway, a neighbor dug us out and we went back for the rest of our classes. We had to scrape ice off the inside of my car before we left. There was a giant hole in the driver's side floor, over which I put a piece of wood, but slush splashed up into the car anyway. Never once owned a pair of snow chains. Since they refuse to salt the roads in Portland, if you don't have chains or an SUV, you're pretty much screwed until the bad weather passes.

Normally I wouldn't mind, but when I have to miss work or when one of the animals gets sick and I can't get him or her to the vet, well. I take issue with that. Global warming, people. It's not going to get any better. Salt the fecking roads. One week a year isn't going to do much damage.

For all that I bitch about the snow, at least Curly Joe is having a blast. I don't have to work until Saturday, which means I get to spend lots of quality time with my dogs. There's a six pack of Svengoolie (courtesy of my friend, Adoresixtyfour) waiting for me up at my mom's, and it's KILLING me that I can't go up and get it. And, you know, see my ma. Needless to say, old Sven would have been lovely to have around this week. Sven, the dogs, a lapful of cats, a bottle of IBC root beer and a roaring pellet fire. I guess I'll have to stick with hockey, something I haven't been able to watch since I started working the night shift. The Winter Classic is coming up in a little over a week; at least I have that to look forward to. I was born in Michigan (45 minutes south of Detroit) but grew up in Chicago. Though I am a Red Wings fan, I'm still a little conflicted as to who I should be rooting for.

At any rate, Curly Joe hopes you all have a merry Christmas and a kick ass new year. So do I. Thank you to everyone who has supported Curly Joe and to everyone who reads this. Here's to hoping I'll be updating this blog for many years to come.

Curly Snoe

2008-12-21T18:35:00.000-08:00

He was born in the south but may as well have been born in the Midwest because Curly Joe is currently enjoying the hell out of all this snow.

I took this a little before 6:00 this morning.

December 15th - it was his first encounter with snow. He had such an adverse reaction to the rainy season starting up, I assumed he would hate snow. Boy, was I wrong. He ran around in it like it was caffeinated or something. Here he is enjoying a new hobby: apple pouncing.

Yes, he did run into me. Full speed.

Another one from this morning. That's me!
The bush next to us is covered in ice.

Size comparison. This is Curly Joe in September:

Three months later (same dog bed).
I think he has doubled in size:

And video! This was before the snow froze over.

As you can see, the boy is doing quite well. My sister is teaching him how to speak; he's pretty damn smart. When I let him out now, he hops around the snow into the spots that he's already created so that he won't have to crash through anymore ice.

One of these days, I'll get him to puppy classes, though he's probably too old now. It's hard finding the time for it; I get off work at 4:30 a.m. and go to bed at 7:00. I need to get on the ball because he WILL be a therapy dog. I have decreed it.

Curly, Tank and I hope you all have a wonderful holiday. It's a little bittersweet this year, as it is the first Christmas we've had in 14 years that didn't include at least one of the original Chicago dogs. (Tank doesn't really count because he's from New York.) Still, I'm glad that Tank has a friend to share presents with and that he won't be alone. It has been wonderful to see their friendship progress over the last four months. For myself, I never thought I'd be happy getting another dog after all of this, but I think that it helps that I see so much of Luke, Meathead, Lady and Bernie in Curly Joe. I know it sounds like I'm projecting, but it really is strange how he seems to have a little bit of each of them in his personality, voice and mannerisms. Hell, he even sounds like Chester when he smacks his lips.

With him around, it seems easier to keep the old dogs and their memory closer to the surface.

December Pupdate

2008-12-08T05:05:00.000-08:00

Curly Joe's first Christmas is rapidly approaching. Personally, I'm a bit of a grinch about Christmas. After our dad died, my sister took it upon herself to decorate the house for the holidays. We haven't had any sort of Christmas (with a tree and presents) in seven or eight years, but this year my sister is determined to go all out: dig the tree out of storage, string up some lights and ornaments, put some twinkle lights out front. Me, I just want to get a leg lamp and stick it in the front window. My south-facing bedroom window faces the road, and I think it would be hysterical to put a leg lamp there. None of our asshole neighbors would get it, but we would. I actually got my sister a mini leg lamp a few years ago, but the cats spend a lot of time curled under it for warmth, so the stocking has gotten a bit ... furry.

But I digress. Oh, hey. Curly Joe finally (just now) chewed through his fire hose and pulled out the squeaker. Garbage time!

Curly continues to do well. He raided the garbage quite a few times last week, so I've been worried he'll have a flare up or something, but he seems to be okay. He's still on L/D, Hepato Support and the 3V supplements. Every now and then, he'll eat around the Hepato Support capsule (I just stick it on top of his food) and I'll have to yank open his gob and cram it down his throat.

Saturday, Sis and I took Curly Joe on an outing. I can't say what we did because it's a surprise for LaShea and Chad, but Curly had a great time and met a lot of nice people, including Dr. Brown. She is the doctor I met last year (through my regular vet) who did acupuncture for Lady and Meathead. It was good to see her again, as she was on maternity leave for a while, and we didn't have a reason to see her after Meathead died in July. She introduced us to a massage therapist (whose name I've forgotten), and we chatted for a bit. Everyone had to stop and say hello to Curly, which is pretty much par for the course with this guy. He's irresistable. When it came time for Curly to [do that thing that's a secret], he wasn't happy about it at all. Afterwards, we went back over and continued talking with Dr. Brown. She said a lot of nice things about me and my sister and how we have the island of misfit toys except for animals. And also the fountain of youth because our animals live so long. "Curly Joe, even if he doesn't get his liver fixed, will probably live to be 15 and they'll go, "Well, he's starting to get a little bit of a limp.'" Oh, I hope.

Sis mentioned how I wanted to get Curly Joe trained for pet therapy, and the massage therapist said that he would be perfect for it and I should definitely look into it for him. That made me so happy. For one thing, now I know I'm not biased; there really is something about Curly Joe that draws people to him. I mean, all dogs are wonderful, but Curly Joe is special somehow. At home, he's hyper, obnoxious, jumping all over Tank, but when we're out in public, he's all quiet and submissive. I dunno what that's about, but I'm going to roll with it.

At any rate, here are some recent pictures and video of Curly Joe:

On our way to [the thing].
Afterwards, I stopped at Petco to replace the leash Curly ate last week.

Curly Speak is funny.

Yesterday, Curly Joe was frolicking around the office with a toy in his mouth. He was play growling at Tank, teasing him with the toy. This went on so long, we tuned them out. Tank, who had been silent the entire time, got fed up and went, "ARF!" and Curly Joe dropped the toy and went, "Damn." I keep telling Tank to kick his ass. I hope someday he'll take my advise and put that little dog in place.

Get to the part where you pee!

2008-11-24T16:51:00.000-08:00

Last night, we had Early Thanksgiving at my ma's. I don't normally celebrate this holiday (for several reasons), but my mom is going to be in Florida for Christmas, so we kind of threw both holidays together and celebrated early. Plus, she's going to spend Thanksgiving with her friends, eating normal, non-vegan food. (Sis and I, since I have the day off of work, are going to the zoo. I wouldn't normally patronize a zoo because it kills me seeing those beautiful creatures in cages, but it's free on Thanksgiving as a thank you to Portlanders for voting to pass a measure to improve living conditions at the zoo. I really want to see Samudra.)

Anyway, Sis was teasing the dogs by talking to them through an empty paper towel tube, and this is what happened when Curly Joe got too excited:

November Pupdate

2008-11-19T19:50:00.001-08:00

Not much to report on the Curly Joe front, except that he has learned how to bark and has taken up the unfortunate hobby of digging holes in the landscaping. See?

He has also learned doggy laughter, which I haven't caught on video yet. I do have some new photos, though:

Hanging out on the front porch with Tank.

Snoozing (with Tank) by the warm and cozy wood-burning stove.

Caught in the act.

A few seconds after that last picture was taken, Tank taught Curly Joe a thing or two about inappropriate touching.

I'm still looking into puppy classes for the young'un. It's hard to find something to fit my schedule, since I work nights. I'd love to take him to a dog park soon and just let him loose. He has so much energy, it exhausts me just watching him zoom around the yard.

If dogs could vote

2008-11-04T19:13:00.001-08:00

No matter who you support, Curly Joe hopes you all went out and voted today. These are amazing times we're living in right now.

New game.

2008-11-01T15:28:00.000-07:00

I got Curly Joe a new toy the other day. It’s made from fire hose material, so I figured it’d be perfect for him. When I got home, I read the reviews and apparently it’s really easy to destroy. So I’ve been keeping an eye on him when he plays with it. So far he seems content to just make it squeak and then thrash it around for a while. The other night, we discovered a new game. It’s called Go Upstairs And Throw The Fire Hose Into The Frontroom And Make Curly Joe Run Up And Down The Stairs For Ten Minutes. He has so much fun, it’s insane. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Meanwhile, Tank is standing there going, “Thank god he stopped chewing on my legs.” Curly hasn’t learned “drop it” yet, but he will eventually. Tank was never into fetch, so this game is fun for me as well. Tank’s more into chewing than he is fetching. He just wants a nice Kong-based toy stuffed with peanut butter to occupy his time. He’s old. His needs are simple.

I worked last night, so I didn’t get to take Curly Joe trick-or-treating.

I’m kidding.

So that was Curly Joe’s first Halloween. Not very exciting, but at least he’s still alive to appreciate it.

P.S. If my sister ever comes back from Chicago with the digital camera, I will post video of Curly playing with his toy. Assuming he hasn't demolished it by then.

The Dread Pirate Curly

2008-10-28T18:22:00.001-07:00

I don't know when I'll have internet access again, so I wanted to wish everyone a Happy Halloween/Samhain from Curly Joe.

Homecoming

2008-10-27T05:40:00.000-07:00

On September 28, 2008, four days after checking in at the NWVS to undergo an operation to repair his liver shunt, Curly Joe came home. He wasn't all that excited to see us when we picked him up, but he was pretty gorked up on codeine, so I wasn't insulted. He slept a lot the next couple of days, but his appetite was good and he was obviously happy to be home. I had to tether him to heavy objects a lot of the time because the urge to chase cats proved far too great, even for a puppy with 18 staples in his belly.

His recovery went really well, considering what dire straights he'd been in just a few days before. When his pain meds ran out, he had one bad day and then he was back to normal.

When we picked Curly up from the vet, they gave me release papers for him:

Summary: Curly Joe had surgery with Dr. Donna Lee Taylor to repair a porto-systemic shunt. Unfortunately, the shunt was found to be intra-hepatic and could not be ligated. Dr. Taylor entered the abdomen and also the chest in attempts of finding an extra-hepatic shunt. Curly Joe had some bleeding and hypotension during anesthesia. Post-op Curly Joe was very critical and overnight after surgery, he had developed hemothorax and was administered multiple pRBC transfusions, a plasma transfusion and was ultimately given several auto-transfusions over 24 hours. About 48 hours post-op Curly Joe was much brighter and started eating on his own and maintaining his PCV count. He has severe hypoproteinemia with TS of 3.0 and Albumin of 1.3 (Albumin improved - post-op = 0.7). Curly Joe is being sent home today and will follow up with Dr. Taylor.

Medications:
1) Cephalexin 250mg capsules: Give 1 capsule by mouth every 12 hours with food. (antibiotic) Next dose is due at 8pm.
2) Codeine 30mg tablets: Give 1/2 tablet by mouth every 6 hours for pain. Next dose is due at 8pm.
3) Purchase Pepcid 10mg tablets over the counter. Give 1 tablet by mouth every 24 hours - next dose is due this evening.

DISCHARGE INSTRUCTIONS
1. Strict exercise restriction. No running, jumping or playing. Only take Curly Joe outside on a leash to urinate/defecate.
2. Monitor incision daily for any signs of redness, swelling or discharge. If any of these signs are noted, please have Curly Joe rechecked by a veterinarian.
3. Keep an e-collar on at all times to prevent Curly Joe from licking at the incision site.
4. Monitor Curly Joe closely; if he becomes lethargic, stops eating or drinking or starts vomiting, please have him rechecked by a veterinarian.
5. Schedule a recheck with Dr. Donna Lee Taylor in 10-14 days for a recheck. Please call her team on Tuesday to give us an update.
6. Please feed Curly Joe the L/D diet.

I followed those instructions faithfully (except for that minor bout of horseplay, but that was two weeks after his surgery), and recently took Curly Joe back to NWVS for his check up. As we sat in the lobby, at least two techs walked by and greeted Curly by name. He's a rock star to these people. They took him in back for the recheck and came out to tell me the doctor was thrilled with how well he is doing. I had taken him to my regular vet a few days before to have his staples removed, but was concerned about some swelling in that area. I was paranoid it was a hernia, but the tech told me it was his body's reaction to the internal sutures. She said it would go away as soon as the sutures were completely dissolved. Whew. Other than that, he was in great shape. He now weighs 26 pounds!

When we first got him, he was scrawny. His ribs were showing, his fur was patchy and he had a skin condition. I believe that the L/D food I've been feeding him, as well as the Hepato Support and 3V I've been mixing with his food has really done wonders for him. The doctor said he looked amazing and that I should keep doing what I've been doing.

The tech told me Dr. Taylor was going out of town for a week, but is still looking for other options for Curly Joe and would get back to me as soon as she found something.

Today, a little over a month later, Curly Joe continues to improve. He still has a messed up liver, but for now he is doing well. He still hasn't learned that cats hate to be chased and that he shouldn't turn his back on the geese when we're out in the yard, but he takes everything in stride and keeps me laughing with his antics. Sometimes we'll be out in the yard, and I'll look over and see Curly standing there with his front legs wrapped around Tank's neck. Or I'll go to call them in and see Tank running for the door on three legs because Curly Joe is running alongside him with one of his legs in his mouth. A leg or an ear, Curly's always got something that doesn't belong to him.

Halloween will soon be upon us, and I promised LaShea I would buy Curly a costume. I found the perfect one for him and took pictures yesterday. I will post them as soon as I get the film developed.

Until next time . . .

Riding the storm out.

2008-10-26T22:48:00.000-07:00

September 26, 2008

Two hours after almost losing and then maybe not losing Curly Joe, my sister and I were on our way to the Northwest Veterinary Specialists to see him. I called ahead of time to let them know we were on our way, and the tech told me that they were halfway done with the transfusion and Curly Joe's blood pressure had gone down and he was able to breathe better, too. We got there at around 2:00 in the afternoon and waited in the lobby until the tech came out for us. As he led us in back, he warned us that Curly was hooked up to a lot of different things, so I prepared myself for the worst. Then he led us into the recovery room, and there was my Squirrely, lying in a big, see-through (oxygen) cage. As soon as he saw us, he lifted his head up and started whining. The tech opened the door and when I leaned in to give Curly a kiss, he (Curly) tried to get up. Sis and I settled him down, and he seemed content to just lie there on his side and sniff us. I gave him lots of kisses and told him he was a good boy and that we missed him and loved him so much. His nose was all crusty, so I could tell he'd been eating baby food.

While I was wuzzling him, I heard Sis tell the tech that he looked good. The tech said, "He looks a whole lot better than he did this morning." That made me feel a little better.

And honestly, he didn't look nearly as bad as I'd feared. He was covered in blankets, but there was no way I was peeking under them. I didn't want to see his incision. Not yet. He was alert, but you could tell he was uncomfortable. They had him on good pain meds, but still. Something like that, he had to have been hurting a little bit.

Curly whined almost the entire time we were there. Sis and I took turns petting and kissing him, though we were nervous about all the wires and tubes running into him. He had a pulse oximeter attached to his paws and one of the nubs came loose. As I was petting him, Curly Joe saw the stray nub and immediately tried to eat it. Luckily, the tech came by and put it back in place and Curly forgot about it. Surely he couldn't be that bad if he still wanted to eat plastic, right?

We wanted him to get a lot of rest, so we didn't stay long. Three hours later, I called the doctor. She said she was standing there looking at Curly across the room from her and he was napping. She said he'd had a good afternoon and had taken a lot of naps. He hadn't gotten all of his blood yet (it's good for 24 hours) because they wanted to check his PCV and then give him some food first. So he was resting comfortably. His respiratory rate was still high, but not as high as it was. She said that just by looking at his respiratory rate, she didn't think his chest was filling with blood again, but they would take some radiographs later just to make sure. She put me on hold to check his chart and then told me that his PCV was 22%. She wanted him in the high 20s, low 30s. He wasn't on any blood pressure support, which was good news. "He was not happy with us after the chest tap," she said. "Before that, he would wag his tail at us. Afterwards, he stopped, but he's starting to warm up to us again." I've done chest taps before. Animals DO NOT LIKE IT. It's hard work on everyone involved.

She said he definitely wasn't out of the woods yet. At least there was no horribly bad news that time. She said in 10-15 minutes, when he woke up from his nap, they were going to feed him and then finish the transfusion. Isn't that cute? Wakes up from his nap. It's like he was at daycare instead of fighting for his life in an oxygen cage.

At midnight, I called the hospital again and spoke to the tech taking care of Curly Joe. She said he was bright and alert and had been walking around outside and going potty. His blood pressure was even better that evening and he'd been eating well. She said he wasn't out of the woods yet but was showing some improvement. HIs PCV was only 25%, which was the low end of what they wanted for not needing a transfusion. They wanted him in the upper 30s, lower 40s. They had one syringe of blodo left on reserve for the autotransfusion, if he needed it. He wasn't having any trouble breathing, so I took that as a good sign that the hemothorax wasn't returning.

When I had spoken to the doctor earlier, she told me that, if we could get Curly Joe past this, then we could manage his health with diet and medicine until she could find someone who could address his problem. She knows there are doctors who specialize in super sucky intrahepatic shunt problems; it's just a matter of doing some research.

I thought that was really promising. Surely she wouldn't be saying that if she thought Curly had a short life expectancy outside of surgery.

I called the hospital again when I woke up the next morning. The on-call doctor told me that Curly Joe was doing very well that morning. He'd been eating a lot and was in good spirits. They didn't have to give him the second transfusion, and as of 6:00 that morning, his PCV was at 30%. The best news was, they said he would probably be able to go home the next day.

We went to visit Curly Joe again but couldn't make it out until that evening. We got there at around 8:00, and when I told the receptionist who we were there to see, her face lit up and she told us what a sweet little dog he was and how he climbed into her lap when the techs were cleaning out his cage. After a few minutes, a tech came out and said they were getting him ready for us and then led us into one of the exam rooms.

We waited another five minutes or so before a tech came in and put down a mat and a nice, thick blanket for Curly to lie down on. Five more minutes passed. The tech came back with a bowl of turkey for Curly, but cautioned us to feed him a little bit at a time so he wouldn't vomit. Finally, she carried Curly Joe in and put him down on the blanket saying, "Is this your baby?" He was happy to see us, but not quite as happy as the day before. I attribute this to the bowl of turkey. He fixated on it the entire time. Sis fed him a little while I took pictures, and when she put the bowl back up on the table, he would just sit and stare at it. Then he would walk around the room and look at it from different angles.

We scratched his head and doled out all the kisses from his adoring fans. He kept coming over to sit by me, so I took that to mean he was happy to see me. After a little more turkey, he let out a very dainty yet very human belch. I hugged him (gently) and was shocked to find that I was touching his incision. It extends from the (top) base of his penis all the way up to his chest. Staples all the way. After a little while, we could see in his eyes how tired he was, but he was too uncomfortable to lie down. Sis went to tell the receptionist we were done visiting, and she paged someone to come and get him. By the time she arrived, Curly Joe had managed to lie down. When he saw her, he immediately rolled over onto his back and exposed his belly for her, darting his front legs out and then folding them back up against his chest like "Pet me. Go on. You know you wanna." That's what he does when he sees somebody. He doesn't just walk up and sit politely, he falls over and exposes his belly. It was wonderful to see him do that, even if it did expose his hideous incision.

Every time the tech bent down, he would flop over, so she ended up having to carry him out of the room. He immediately looked miserable, but we gave him one last kiss and told him we would see him tomorrow. And that is how our visit went.

FYI: This website has an animation that shows what is wrong with Curly Joe's liver.

Up next, Curly Joe's homecoming.

It's a boy!

2008-10-18T15:38:00.000-07:00

On August 12, 2008, we arrived home with Curly Joe. We introduced him to Tank in the street (neutral territory), but Tank was so excited to see me, he barely even looked at Curly Joe. As for the puppy, he loved Tank instantly. A split second was all it took for Curly Joe to consider Tank one of his best friends.

I wasn't really all that surprised. I had only known Curly Joe for a couple of hours before I realized how special he was. It's hard to pinpoint, but there's something about him that just sucks people in. His eyes? His ears? The way he immediately flops over on his back for belly rubs whenever someone approaches him? His penchant for sleeping in suitcases? Whatever it was, I saw it when we walked around Boulder with LaShea and Chad, and I saw it the entire drive back home to Oregon. He is impossibly cute. Sometimes you can't even stand to look at him, he's so cute.

But I digress. It took a couple of weeks, but Tank finally climbed up out of his depression and warmed up to Curly Joe. The cats are a different story. I think Curly thinks they're puppies because every time he sees one, he jumps on it.

One of the things I noticed early on was how much water Curly Joe drank and, inevitably, how much he urinated. I'd been planning on taking him to my regular vet anyway, to find out if he had any lingering issues from being poisoned. Now I was concerned there was something wrong with his kidneys. So on August 19th, I took him to my vet for blood work. On August 20th, the vet called told me that Curly Joe's kidney values were perfect, but his liver values were off. She said it could be one of three things:

Hepatitis.
A shunt problem.
Leftover toxins from when he was poisoned.

She recommended taking him to the Northwest Veterinary Specialists for an ultrasound/biopsy, but not before we did a clotting profile to make sure he'd be alright for sticking needles into his organs. The labs came back normal and he got the green light for an ultrasound. On August 30th, I took Curly Joe to a picnic and (thanks to some incredibly generous people) on September 12th, I took him to VDIC for an ultrasound and biopsy. The good news was, they didn't need to take any biopsies. The bad news was, the reason why is that he very clearly has a serious shunt problem. In fact, he probably wasn't ever poisoned; all of the symptoms that made the Louisiana vets think he was poisoned are classic signs of Portosystemic shunt problems: vomiting, seizures, head pressing, anorexia, stunted growth, etc.

On September 24th, I took Curly Joe to NWVS for his surgery. On September 25th, they operated on him. (They like you to bring your animal in the night before so they can get a catheter all set up.) About four or five hours after they started surgery, the doctor called to tell me that she had been unable to fix Curly Joe's shunt. It turned out to be intrahepatic (inside the liver), and she couldn't get to it without compromising him. There were no exit vessels to clamp off, and she cut up into his chest cavity a little to see if she could find a way through there. She was basically telling me there was nothing she could do. One of the two options I was given when Curly was diagnosed was surgery or managing the condition with diet and medicine. (l/d and lactulose.) Knowing Curly Joe would die without it, I chose surgery. I was devastated when the doctor told me there was nothing she could do. She then told me that she would look into other surgery options for Curly; there were other vets out there who had experience working with intrahepatic shunts, and she said she would keep researching. She also said that Curly Joe might need a blood transfusion.

An hour later, she called me again, this time to tell me that Curly Joe was still intubated and not waking up as fast as he should. I tried to keep myself from freaking out, but all I could think about was something my regular vet had told me a few days before Curly's surgery: a third of the dogs she'd seen go through this procedure never woke up.

They put him in an oxygen cage and covered him up with warming blankets because his temperature was low. He had lots of fluids going into him, too. They checked his pcv (packed cell volume) and it was low, so they consulted their critical care specialist who recommended giving him half a unit of blood, recheck in an hour and then give him the other half if needed. This was basically for supportive care. The doctor said she hadn't seen any evidence of seizures or clotting problems, but was a possibility.

At around 2:00 a.m. I got another call from the hospital. Curly Joe still wasn't doing well. His blood pressure was really high and his protein was low (which means he wouldn't be able to heal). The doctor asked for my permission to give him another blood transfusion (which I did) except this time it would be plasma. She said there was no guarantee that he would be better in the morning. He was responding to them, but not getting up on his own. They considered him a very guarded patient.

Six hours later, the doctor called again. She told me Curly Joe had developed hemothorax and was not improving. After some discussion, she said she didn't think that Curly Joe would recover from this. I asked her if she thought he was suffering and she told me that he was on two different pain meds and wasn't in pain. I told her I would call her back. My sister (who works from home as a transcriptionist) was working in her office. I went in to tell her what the doctor had told me and made the decision to euthanize him.

I called NWVS back and told them we would be coming in and then went to get ready. 20 minutes later, I called them back to check on Curly and make sure he was comfortable and able to hold on until we got there. I talked to the tech who assisted Curly's surgery and he told me that the doctor wanted to talk to me. My heart sank. My first thought was that Curly Joe had died before we could get there. Then the doctor got on the line and told me that she had consulted with another doctor at the hospital (one of the many great things about NWVS is that it's full of specialists). He examined Curly Joe and said that he didn't see a dog who was ready to die. He took radiographs (at no charge to me) to see just what was going on inside Curly's chest. They revealed that he did have blood in his chest, mostly on the left side where the doctor had made the incision to look for another way to get at the shunt. She said she would like my permission to do a chest tap and use the blood for an auto-transfusion. He would still have his shunt issue to deal with afterward, but she wanted to get him through this first. They wanted to give him a chance. She said he was interested in food and wagging his tail when people stopped to say hi to him. They didn't think it was time to give up yet.

At that bit of news, I told the doctor that they should do all they can for him, hung up, walked into the office and started sobbing. My sister immediately walked over, gave me a big hug and said, "See? This is good news!" I was so afraid to hope, but I stayed positive for Curly's sake.

There were a lot of people pulling for Curly Joe, most of whom had never even met him.

Next up: The power of positive thinking and a little dog who doesn't know the meaning of the word "quit."

All work and no play makes Curly Joe a dull boy.

2008-10-13T16:53:00.000-07:00

I first heard of Curly Joe about four months ago. Before I moved back in with my sister, we would talk online a lot and she was always mentioning this brain damaged puppy that a friend of hers knew from volunteering at a shelter down in Louisiana. At first I didn't pay much attention to it. Over the course of about a year and a half, our dog pack went from five to two (and this wasn't including the old golden retriever we'd rescued who died of liver cancer in '04). All we had left was my 10-year old hound dog, Tank and my sister's Shep/Lab mix, Meathead. Tank's best friend, Luke, died in January of '07. Nine months later, Lady died after battling Cushing's Disease for several months. Bernie followed her five months later; they were inseparable the whole time we had them.

Since Luke died, Tank had been growing more and more depressed, and I was starting to really worry about him. I didn't feel ready to start thinking about getting another dog, but I knew it would be the best thing for Tank. Around that time, I heard about some laboratory dogs (for a vet school) who needed homes or they were going to be euthanized. Fortunately, it turned out that the dogs actually weren't in any danger of being euthanized and all found good homes, but it made me realize that I was ready to take in another dog. It was right around then that my sister sent me a picture of this brain damaged puppy in Louisiana. My sister's friend, LaShea, told her that the puppy had been found, dying, outside of a nail salon. He had some seizures and passed out a couple of times, and the vet suspected he'd been poisoned. Well, the second I saw his picture, I knew I had to have him. Sis told me he'd been named Curly Joe because of the way the tips of his ears curled backward. The photo at the top of this blog and in LaShea's entry are the ones that sold me. I knew he would be Tank's new BFF.

Summer was upon us and we were concerned about how to get Curly Joe from Louisiana to Oregon. Flying was the easiest mode of transportation, but with his health issues, it wasn't something we wanted to attempt. My sister and I discussed driving down to Louisiana; LaShea talked about driving Curly up her herself. In the end, we decided to meet in the middle (or thereabouts): Boulder, Colorado. Sis and I had never been there, and I was very excited at the thought of a road trip. I hadn't been on vacation in eight years. We made our plans and got ready. On July 3rd, an hour before we were set to leave, Meathead started acting funny. We figured it was a pancreatitis flareup, as he'd been having issues with it for several months. We dropped him off at the vet, who called us back a few hours later. Meathead was really bad. His temperature was so high, they had him covered in ice packs. By the time we got there, he was mostly gone. When temps run that high, dogs go into organ failure. We think he waited for my sister because he died a few minutes after she crawled into the kennel and curled up with him.

Naturally, we canceled the trip. Over the next few weeks, Tank's depression got worse. He was eating and drinking, but I practically had to drag him out of Meathead's bed and make him go outside. LaShea and her husband had taken Curly Joe in to foster because the woman who was taking care of him went on vacation. We made plans again to meet in Boulder, this time at the beginning of August. On the evening of August 9th, 2008, my sister and I walked into our hotel room in Boulder and threw down our bags. I called LaShea's husband to let them know we were here (we got rooms in the same hotel), only to find out they were in the room right next to ours. He actually opened the door and surprised my sister when she was coming back from the car. I hung up the phone and went to meet Curly Joe.

First impression? A little underwhelming. Just kidding! Curly was flopped out on the bed, just ... hanging out. If it'd been Tank, he'd be bouncing off the walls and bruising my shin with his tail, but not Curly. He was like, "Hey, what's up? Come rub my belly." Of course, road trip adventures take a lot out of six month old puppies, so naturally he was tired.

I just couldn't get over how small and quiet he was. We hung out in their room until about 3 a.m., just talking and having a good time (watching some stupid movie on the Sci Fi channel). We left Curly Joe with them for one more night, and the next morning we all drove to Estes Park and walked around the Stanley Hotel. It's the hotel that inspired Stephen King to write The Shining, you know. And they let Curly Joe in!

Sadly, we parted ways that afternoon. Sis and I and little Curly Joe headed back to the Pacific Northwest, LaShea and Chad headed south to Louisiana. Very sad. I'm not really good with people; I'm very shy and awkward. But the moment I met those two, I felt completely at ease, like I'd known them for years. Though leaving them was sad, we knew we would be seeing them again, as they are planning to move to Portland in a couple of years. What a reunion that will be!

Up next: What happened when we brought Curly Joe home.

The Beginnings

2008-09-29T17:47:00.000-07:00

Curly Joe's journey begins in Shreveport, Louisiana. It was May 2008 when he was brought to Pet Savers Shelter. We know he was near death and found next to a nail salon. The shelter worker, Janice, who received him didn't believe he'd make it through the night because he was so weak and kept passing out. She kept him at her house, and later he went to live with Linda, who owns Pet Savers. During this time, he had several seizures and the veterinarian decided he'd probably been poisoned. Pet Savers didn't have the money to do in depth testing, and over time Curly seemed to grow stronger.

I was keeping a journal on my messageboard chronicling my adventures in animal rescue. The very first post I made about my work at the shelter featured a picture of Curly and his story. One of the posters (grubbygirl) simply said "I want him." I thought she was joking or it was just wishful thinking. Little did I know, she meant what she said! And her sister, turtle tracks, definitely wanted him. We started looking into animal transport options.

After realizing he probably couldn't get a clean bill of health to fly (and that flying can be quite risky), and that trying to create a transport chain from Louisiana to Oregon just wouldn't work, we decided to meet half way, in Boulder, CO.