Graduation!

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

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!

Obedience Classes - Week Four

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!

Get to the part where you pee!

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:

Homecoming

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 . . .

It's a boy!

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:

1. Hepatitis.
   
2. A shunt problem.
   
3. 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."