Small Things Equal Big Worries

After you have a pet die from cancer, especially quite suddenly, every small ailment feels like a huge deal. Right now Reagan is limping a lot and her back end is quite wobbly. She has hip dysplasia, but has had no issues with it since her first bout with it about four years ago. This week it seems her hips are really hurting. We'll give it a few days of rest and see if she improves, but after that it will be time for an x-ray if there isn't a change. The worst part about all of this is fearing for the worst: cancer.

Reagan is only six years old, but after losing Wembley at seven years old, I'm terrified to think of Reagan passing away at a young age. She had a vet check-up two weeks ago and everything checked out fine, including her bloodwork, yet here I am, worrying about the big C for no reason at all.

Quincy had a limp about six weeks ago, and naturally I feared for the worst, thinking she also had hip dysplasia (She turned out to be fine and had a minor strain). Walter has a small fatty tumor on his bad leg, right where it meets his body. Again, I freaked out and thought it was a cancerous tumor, and obsessively checked it to see if it got bigger. Luckily that was not the case. I can't help but wonder if I will ever stop thinking this way after losing Wembley so suddenly.

My heart is so full of love for these guys, that all I want is for them to play all day, have fun, and be happy. A retriever who loves to play ball more than anything else shouldn't have to deal with hip dysplasia that keeps her from running.

Read more...

More Progress

Today is a gorgeous day. It has been disgusting and cloudy for a week, and I am loving this sunshine.

Yesterday, I took Walter to the local state park rec area and we walked the mile loop and went along the beach. There is still a lot of snow, especially along the water, and I was sinking to my knees in some places! Walter did fantastically, even though he got quite tired by the end. Of course people stopped us like they always do, to ask if Walter is hurt. One guy fell in love with him, and some lady was totally rude and said, "Now that's an old puppy. I bet he's at least ten to twelve years old." It was more in the way she said it that bothered me, especially considering she was not even very close to us. She may have said this because of the way he walks. He was at the end of a steady mile with one bad leg, and he has a delicate sense of balance. If she only knew the progress he has made.

This afternoon I decided to walk the girls, which is never an easy feat. Reagan is generally terrible on a leash unless she is wearing a prong collar. A lot of people think that's a cruel method of walking, but it has been the only thing to work for Reagan. Alan and I also did some testing on ourselves with it before we used it on the dogs to get an idea of what it feels like at different strengths.

I was ready to go, leashes in hand, and Reagan began jumping up and down, barked right in my face, and even nipped my hand because she was so excited to play. Quincy is a little easier to get the leash on. I left Walter in the kennel assuming he was too tired to go for a walk, not wanting to bother his joints and wanting to give him some recovery from our walk yesterday. Well, I'm out of the driveway and on my way with Quincy and Reagan, when Walter started barking. I kept walking and he started to bark again, so I went back and got him too.

Amazingly, this expedition was not a disaster, and I walked Walter farther than he has ever gone on our standard route. He was very tired at the end and had to take a lot of breaks once we reached the fields leading to our backyard, but the fact that he had enough energy and strength to go two days in a row is huge progress! I think I am going to start taking him on shorter walks to build up his strength, and see if he can get to going one mile without struggling at the end. Either way, I'm thrilled that he was able to do SO well today.

After our walk, Quincy and Reagan got some time in with the Chuck-It, the greatest invention for high energy dog owners. With the Chuck-It, we can throw the ball farther than with just the arm, and the rubber balls that are made by the same company are lighter and fly better. They also bounce when they hit the ground, so if the dogs don't see the ball right away, it bounces back up. Quincy is so fast that she beats Reagan every time, but Reagan always runs back and forth. Because Quincy is so fast, we have to either trick Quincy or give Reagan her own retrieving time.

The pack is now sound asleep, all basking in the sunshine of the living room, happy and content.

Read more...

Do All Things With Love

We spent a lovely weekend relaxing at the cabin. It just happened to fall on the 18th, which marked eight months since Wembley and seven months since adopting Walter. While we have a large yard and the dogs are not suffering for any major outdoorsy time, they sure love being at the cabin. Reagan and Quincy especially enjoy chasing the mule, and Walter always finds some lucky curve of the earth to nestle in as a makeshift bed.

We had a bonfire, lit fireworks, did a lot of reading, stayed warm by the wood stove fire, and gave the pups a special treat- cranberry and pumpkin biscotti with meat and vegetables on top. They all nibbled on fresh pumpkin too; a very nutritious and tasty treat.


There is a photo on the table of this family I married into, taken on another weekend where we all worked on odds and ends. Wembley is in this photo, for it was taken back when it was just our golden girls. Wembley and Reagan are not looking at the camera, but have their heads tilted to the side, in the same direction, which seems appropriate in a melancholy way. Wembley loved the cabin and enjoyed many fine days there.



Even though our pack has changed, we felt Wembley all around us, knowing she is the reason we are so lucky to have Walter, Reagan, and Quincy. We fell in so much love with Wembley that we opened our home to these other loving creatures one at a time, and because of that, she will always be around, as will each one after.


This weekend we watched as Reagan, riddled with hip dysplasia, ran and ran some more. She also swam and retrieved the stick with such force, her muscles bulging and flexing with every step and paddle. Earlier this year, the vet said Reagan was healthier now than she ever has been in her life. This is all thanks to endless hours of research and reading that Wembley's awful disease provided us with. Thanks to Wembley, Reagan is in the best health of her life.

Quincy tagged along with her sister, and she swam for the very first time this weekend. Before, she was scared. Now she jumps right in. I can't help but feel so grateful for this little one. Quincy ensured that Reagan would never be without a playmate. She distracted Reagan as we drove hours back and forth in the middle of the night for emergency vet visits with Wembley. She brought Reagan's smile back.

Walter stunned us this weekend with his abilities. We saw him run- and I mean really running as fast as his disability will allow, and he was quite fast! No, he can't go far, but he did it, and he was very proud. Walter climbed a hill too, and rode in the back of the mule on his dog bed without jumping out or being terrified. He showed us trust and an ability to survive and love and overcome in the way that only a dog can.

So many people put a cap on how much love should be designated for a particular person or thing. Like you should love your children more than your pet, and love your children more than your spouse, and love your spouse more than your parents, or love your million dollar home more than the thousand dollar trailer you had before you made the big money. All of this logic is ridiculous. Do all things with love, and love as much as you want. There is nothing wrong with loving your child or spouse or parent as much as you love your dog, your cat, ferret, horse, or rat. If we didn't love as much as we do, Reagan may have never bounced back to life from losing her best friend. Walter would be long gone from this world, and Quincy might still be at the rescue, waiting for a forever home.

All of the love you give to a pet, you will get back a million times over, without conditions. Now that is true love!

Read more...

The Dynamics of Adjusting

It is always interesting to see the dynamics of our pack when there's a new arrival. Reagan especially has had a lot of adjusting to do this year. Rhoda is fitting in swimmingly of course, and the cats are now forming their own little clique, even though I think all of them prefer the company of dogs.

Aurora was not a huge fan of Rhoda, as expected. She came from a family with only dogs, but she is doing a great job of getting along with Piper. Aurora is a diva. She likes to be the center of attention, and loves to be held. She was so annoyed with Rhoda that she stayed in the basement for the majority of the first two days. Now she is back to normal, roaming the house and showing up in our bed or next to it every morning.

Walter is a lot better with Rhoda now. The first day we brought her home, he picked her up thinking she was lunch! Now he still gets into "I see prey, must get it" mode only on occasion. He can walk right by her and sit by her (under supervision). I wouldn't leave him home alone with her, but we don't have to stick to him constantly either. Once she gets bigger, this won't be a problem, but his Chow Chow prey drive is strong, and by all means not his fault.

Quincy is being driven mad, only because she thinks Rhoda is something to herd. As Rhoda gets bigger she will make a good playmate for Quincy.

Piper and Rhoda are my favorite to watch. Piper is the best cat in the world (she is the Wembley of cats), and incredibly patient with Rhoda. She lets Rhoda bat at her, she lets Rhoda invade her space on the cat tower, and she even lets her take over playtime. Rhoda follows Piper, and I think sees her as a mother figure of sorts. Piper is teaching Rhoda how to hunt. If their favorite toy, Da Bird, is out, Piper will hunt first, and let Rhoda try it out next. At first I thought this was a fluke, but they have continued to do this often. Sometimes I catch them napping side by side. Over time, these two are going to become best friends.

Read more...

The Rock of the Family

This has been a trying year for our pack, and more specifically, Reagan. She is the rock of this family, much more than Alan or I, and sometimes it is easy to forget that more than any of us, this year has been the toughest on her. In just five months, Reagan has:

-had to adjust to a new puppy in the house (Quincy)
-moved to a new place
-lost her best friend in the entire world (Wembley)
-welcome two new pack members (Walter and Aurora)
-somehow adjust to Wembley not being here

Reagan deserves a lot more credit than she gets. People are hard on Reagan if they don't know her. She's often called dumb, too hyper, and crazy. She is hyper and she is crazy, but she has a heart of gold and an unrivaled maternal instinct for the rest of the pack, including us. Reagan is pure love.

The day after Wembley died, we took Reagan and Quincy to Petsmart. We were trying to get out of the house and its emptiness. At Petsmart, a senior golden was walking in a different aisle. Reagan saw this, and started wagging her tail. She had a look of hope on her face, and we both knew she thought this dog was Wembley from afar. While losing Wembley has been horrible for us, seeing Reagan mourn has been just as painful, and that moment tops everything. Sometimes Reagan checks for Wembley at the car doors or peeks hopefully around corners. She isn't the same carefree girl she used to be. She's never quite as happy as she was with Wembley, and she needs more affection from us than she ever has before.

I just hope we can give Reagan everything she needs, because she is our pack leader. Reagan is the core, the heart, and above all, selfless.

Read more...

Away

Today is a particularly bad Wembley day. I have a lot of these, but the approaching six month anniversary of her passing isn't helping, nor is the fact that her collar still smells like her.

Wembley had many collars, as all of our animals get their collars changed for seasons and holidays. While Reagan can't wait to be "naked", Wembley loved wearing her collars and always looked a little prouder when we put a new one on. The ultimate collar though, is the Wembley collar, that being a bright pink collar with her name spelled out in rhinestones.

All of her collars are tucked away now in a pink hat box with hearts all over it. I remember when I bought the box just to store all of her stuff. I put her dog shirts, her cheerleading outfit, her favorite toys, all of her collars, and all of the cards we received while she was sick and when she passed away. There's a ceramic heart with her paw print on it too. The cashier, trying to make conversation, remarked,

"Someone is getting a big Valentine's Day present."

Now, I know he was only trying to be friendly, but it was only a week or so after Wembley's death, and it took every piece of strength I had to not cry at the checkout. Instead, I smiled, and cried in the privacy of my own car.

The rhinestone collar finally went into the box this afternoon. It was slung over a picture of Wembley as a puppy, but I discovered that this collar still holds Wembley's scent very strongly. For those fleeting seconds it seemed like she was still here and this nightmare never happened. If I can smell Wembley on this collar, no doubt Reagan can, and that's the reason I put it in the box. It is easier for us to understand where Wembley went. We know the gory, clinical details, but Reagan doesn't. She doesn't understand cancer or chemo. She doesn't understand why Wembley isn't here. People might think that is easier, but Reagan is an intuitive pup and she still looks with hope that maybe Wembley came home from work with Alan today, or maybe Wembley is just hiding in the corner, or maybe Wembley is in one of her usual napping spots. Reagan is not the same dog. She's happier now, but there is something different about her, and that's just one more reason to put the collar in the box.

If only removing the sadness were so easy.

Read more...

A New Summer

For the first time in eight years, we are going to the UP without Wembley. Actually, something very monumental is happening when we will be away: July 4th marks eight years to the day that we brought our beautiful girl home. Alan will still be camping on Isle Royale, leaving me alone to process and question something that started eating away our little baby. Even if I had every clinical answer, I would still be asking why this happened when it did.

This trip will mark our first time in the UP with our new pack. It will be Walter's first time up there, and Quincy's first time as a nearly adult dog, and Reagan's first time without Wembley. I'm hoping Q will learn how to swim and not be afraid of the water, and that Walter will use his life jacket and enjoy some freedom from the pressure of his bad leg. There will be all sorts of fun things for them to explore, other pups to meet, and romping around with their pup cousins, Zeke and Honey. All I want is for them to have fun, because every once in awhile Reagan slips into "looking for Wembley" mode, which is the single, most heartbreaking part of our loss. We know what happened, but does Reagan? She knows her best friend is gone, but everything else is most likely a mystery.

We're all still learning how to be without her, and I am hoping this trip perks things up for all of us. Alan and I often talk about how we feel stuck in a bizarre tunnel where time marches on, but our sadness clings to every thought and moment. A haunting that will only grow the more we love, but looking into the faces of our critters, we know it's worth it.

Read more...