I’ve finally beaten the cats at their own game. Well, one of their games, anyway. For a very long time, they would pull my bath towel off the towel rack almost every day. I’d come home from work to find a still-damp towel crumpled up on the bathroom floor and covered in cat hair. Since I really don’t enjoy spreading cat hairs on my wet body, I tried a variety of ways to stop them, from using different towel racks, to folding the towel in different ways (which usually resulted in a still-damp towel with no cat hair), to putting things on top of the towel to make it harder to pull down. Nothing worked for more than a day or so. Two weeks ago, I finally thought of something that actually does work. So far, anyway. I use a clothes hanger with clips (generally used for skirts) and clip it to one long side of the towel. I hang the towel lengthwise across the rack, and then hook the hanger to the rack underneath the towel. I don’t know if its too hard for them to pull the towel down now, or if the hanger makes a noise when they pull that startles them away. I can tell they’ve tried, because a few times I’ve come home to find one end of the towel off the rack (but not on the floor). My towel has been cat hair free since I started using the hanger. Its so nice. I just have to remember to unhook the hanger before I pull the towel off the rack, but that’s a small price to pay. I may be a bad parent, but I get a gleeful – and rather smug – feeling every time I walk into the bathroom and see that they’ve tried and failed to pull the towel to the floor.
Dad and Krysti came for a brief visit this past weekend. It was really good to see them, especially since its been a while (last Christmas, I think, but its been a very blurry year, so I make no guarantees). We went to the Farmer’s Market Saturday afternoon. The weather was perfect for that sort of thing, and the place apparently wasn’t nearly as crowded as it typically is in the morning.
Dinner Saturday was at Outback (always yummy!). Its nice to see that Dad and Krysti are finally eating dinner at a reasonable hour. I still have traumatic flashbacks to late night dinners, especially one with a Colonel Fink as another guest and we didn’t sit down to start eating until nearly 11:00pm. *shudder*
Sunday morning was an Excel lesson for Krysti, and then we met John and Amy at Perkins for lunch. Nothing like talking about convicts and criminals over Sunday lunch… Dad and Krysti headed back home shortly after lunch. The visit was the perfect length – not too short, and most importantly, not too long! And the really nice thing is that I can say that and Dad and Krysti won’t be offended.
I took these pictures a couple of days ago, so the colors have changed a little bit, but the general idea is still the same.
I was surprised at how much bruising appeared between the bandage and my elbow. I was also surprised at how much that area hurts when any pressure is applied. It doesn't hurt in and of itself (only when its touched) so I tend to forget how tender it is - until I bump it on something. When I went to the grocery store yesterday, I had to figure out how to maneuver the cart with my upper arm. I couldn't do much with my hand because of the hard splint, and I made the mistake of trying to use my forearm to push and turn. Not a good idea...
My fingers aren't quite as swollen now as they were in this picture, thank goodness. They're not as blackish-green, either. I've been lucky that the swelling and bruising hasn't been too bad, really. It was certainly much worse when I had this same procedure done on my right wrist. Interestingly enough, after the first couple of days, my wrist didn't hurt at all, except when I occasionally overdid it. My fingers, though, haven't stopped hurting.
I'll be ever so happy to get this splint off. I really, really want to wash my hand. Just a few more days of this - the splint comes off and the stitches come out Monday morning.
I stayed home yesterday and babied the wrist a bit. The pain meds still weren’t doing a great job, but the frequent naps sure helped. I did get a bit of work done, although its definitely slower typing with just one hand.
I’m back in the office today, as my wrist feels a lot better. There’s only a little swelling of the fingers and some discoloration right at the knuckles. As long as I keep the hand elevated, it does pretty well. If I forget for too long, the throbbing reminds me that I need to get the hand back up. The fingers are all working, and I can do a few things, but there are certainly limitations to the range of motion. I can’t stretch my fingers out to the side at all, and trying to do anything that requires twisting or applying pressure doesn’t feel too great. I was very proud of myself this morning, though – I managed to tie my sneakers all by myself.
The procedure went fairly quickly this morning. John came over early so he could hold Parm down while I cut off a large wad of matted fur (I had enough for a new kitten when I was done), and then he took me to Duke Raleigh Hospital. I was checked in by 9:20, and a nurse took me back for prepping about 9:45. The nice lady gave me a valium (but she wasn’t nice enough to give me two), and the surgeon popped in to initial my wrist. He also initialed my palm and made a comment about making an incision there, too, but we figured out later that he must have been confusing me with his next patient, who had both a cyst and carpal tunnel.
They got me into the procedure room before 11:00, but I’m not sure exactly when. The nurse designated to distract me has two dogs, so guess what we talked about most of the time? The most painful part of the whole procedure was the shots for the local. Man, those hurt. I’m just happy they had a sheet blocking my view, because I had no interest in watching the procedure. The surgeon said the cyst was pretty large – I think he mentioned a size, but I don’t remember what he said. By then, the valium had kicked in and I really just wanted a nap.
While I was waiting for John, I dozed with my face on the pillow that was propping up my arm. The nurse told us that she’d been checking on me and she knew I wasn’t suffocating myself because I was still pink every time she looked. Of course, that was mostly due to the fact that I was lucid enough to make a little gap in the pillow just under my nose… I have no idea what time John got back to the hospital, but I do know that we got to the Target pharmacy at 12:20. We picked up my Tylenol with Codeine and a few other items that I meant to get yesterday, popped into Subway to get some lunch, and then headed home. John played with the pups for a few minutes and then headed out. I was very ready for lunch, but by then, I was also very ready for the drugs. Sadly, they aren’t doing a spectacular job, although they’ve toned down the pain from a sharp stab to a dull roar (as long as I don’t wiggle my fingers). If its still like this tomorrow, I may call the doc and ask for something a smidge stronger. We’ll just have to wait and see.
So, I’m splinted from knuckles to mid-forearm, I have to keep the hand elevated for 3-5 days (so no typing with the left hand), and I can’t take the bandage off unless I need to loosen it. Always fun to shower with a plastic bag over my hand and arm. At least its only for two weeks, as I go back to the surgeon to get my stitches out on the 19th.
Saturday, I took Reyna to her first real social event since April. Her last social outing before that was sometime last year, I think. I figured the German Shepherd Rescue picnic at Montague Park in Cary was a good first try, since she wouldn’t be the only barking and snarling dog there. I was right – there were a lot of agitated shepherds at the picnic. Reyna did fairly well, all things considered. Of course, I didn’t let her get too close to any of the other dogs. We only stayed about an hour, and we spent most of that time walking along the lake. Reyna naturally made the most of the nearby water.
While we were out and about, Reyna and I also took quick trips into Lowes and Gourmutt’s Bakery. Reyna handled the errands nicely, and was very happy to see some old human friends. By the time we got home, though, the poor girl was exhausted (and so was I). We definitely need to build up our tolerance to strange dogs and their stranger people.
Friday was a very long, but very good, day. I was up at 4:45, and Duncan and I were out of the house and on our way to Denton at 6:00. We finally made it home eleven hours later. Lucky Duncan, he got to sleep most of the way. The local English Shepherd Rescue was hosting the trial as an American Herding Breed Association (AHBA) event, which meant Duncan was working for his Junior Herding Dog (JHD) title. There weren’t very many people there, which was nice, and I think there were only three dogs entered who weren’t English shepherds. Duncan was the only German shepherd there.
To earn a leg towards the JHD, the dog and handler have 10 minutes to pick up the sheep, move them behind two panels (between the panels and the fence), between two more panels, and then re-pen the sheep. The dog has to be engaged in the entire process, so the handler can’t just walk the sheep through the course while the dog is off doing something else. The second video shows a much clearer example of what should happen – the first video, not so much – and Duncan was definitely fully engaged during both runs.
Our first run wasn’t great, and it took us about 4 minutes, but we made it. Eventually. Our first big problem was that we had very light (spazzy) sheep. They started panicking as soon as Duncan walked into the arena, and we had to set our start position twice. We were working 3 sheep - a dark brown one, a white one, and a light brown/red one. Watch the red sheep; she was the lightest of the bunch, and she caused us a lot of trouble. Claire, our trainer, pointed out that I was our second problem. I was following the sheep, rather than using their inherent stupidity to make them go where I wanted them. I could have slowed them down so I wasn’t having to chase them if I’d turned towards the fence several times. As a general rule, if you turn your shoulders, the sheep will turn that direction, too. I was too worried about catching up with the obnoxious things to remember that little tidbit of information. The third problem we had was, again, me. I’ve gotten used to having the gate a certain way at Claire’s – latch on the left, hinge on the right, so I put Duncan behind me on my right. I wasn’t thinking about it during our run, but the gate was reversed. Out of habit, I put Duncan on my right. Claire pointed out that what I did was essentially block the sheep from the pen (in their minds, anyway), which is why the red sheep kept taking off. If I had put Duncan on my left side, the sheep likely would have gone into the pen the first or second time – rather than the fourth. The only reason the sheep finally went in the pen when they did was because the judge told me to just open the pen, even though I didn’t have everyone in one spot. Despite the challenges, though, Duncan did an excellent job. He did exactly what he was supposed to do. Even though he had to chase down that stupid red sheep 4 times before she went into the pen, Duncan never once made any attempt to grip, nip or bite. I was so proud of how calm and relaxed he stayed. The judge's comments were “Nice dog, let him work and cover his stock, very cooperative to instruction.” Oh, and of course, when I finally managed to get the sheep to go between the center panels, the guy working the video camera got distracted and missed it...
We had our second run after lunch. Thank goodness, we got a different bunch of sheep. This time, we had no problems. At one point, I was worried that Duncan was too close to me, but the sheep didn’t seem particularly concerned. Claire said that Duncan was tucked in during the run, keeping his power more internal, rather than pushing it at the sheep. Whatever he was doing, it worked. We had the fastest run of the afternoon – 37 seconds. We picked up our sheep, went behind the back panels, through the center panels, and straight to the pen. I had to have Duncan shift the sheep for me a bit, because they wanted to wander off, but he did that with almost no instruction from me. I was so proud of him! The judge’s comments were “Great job – he’s a powerful dog but very calm, controlled. Well done.” Hear the applause at the end of the video? I didn’t hear it when it happened, but its really neat to know we earned that.
During the day, several people told me how handsome Duncan is, what a wonderful temperament he has, and how impressed they were with his sheep handling skills. Claire said he was an excellent example of a herding German shepherd.
Have I mentioned yet how proud I was yesterday? He was such a good boy – I really couldn’t have asked for anything better than what he gave me. Duncan truly deserves his new title.
Tomorrow’s a big day – it’s our first sheep herding trial since July 2008. We’ve got two runs, one in the morning and one sometime after lunch, so we could conceivably earn Duncan’s JHD title. With luck, I’ll find someone willing to take photos and someone else willing to videotape our runs. I’m nervous, but I feel pretty confident about our chances, as long as a few things go our way:
1 – We get some non-spazzy sheep. 2 – Duncan stays off my butt and out of my personal space. 3 – I manage to not confuse Duncan by telling him one thing with my voice and something totally different with my body. 4 – Duncan remembers to not try and eat the sheep (really the most important thing).
Mary, Duncan and I spent the day at the AKC Responsible Dog Ownership Day event. We were there to work the German Shepherd Dog Club of Greater Raleigh table, and we shared our space with the German Shepherd Rescue. Duncan was, as always, an excellent ambassador of the breed. He was very well behaved, and was loved on and admired by just about everyone who stopped by. Duncan even took a few minutes to show off a few of his freestyle skills and his very focused “stay.” We did take some time to check out the other booths and watch a few demonstrations. The AKC had dogs showing off obedience, rally, agility, flyball and herding.
Duncan in front of the first table we set up. We ended up moving to a different table so we'd have more room.
Mary and Duncan at our table. Duncan actually has both front feet on my chair.
Taking a break to love on Mom.
Duncan was not the least bit interested in taking a cookie from the strange person in the dog costume.
The day was a lot of fun, although Duncan and I were both very happy to get home. After a quick round of playtime with Reyna, Duncan zonked out on the couch for a couple of hours. Hope he gets plenty of rest tonight, because he’s got herding practice first thing tomorrow morning!
Its so great to have Reyna feeling better again! We had a fun weekend, and most of it, we couldn’t have done (or at least not enjoyed nearly as much) before she got her new hip.
Saturday morning started with an early herding session for Duncan. The poor dog, he was so confused at one point, and it was all my fault. By the time the session was done, though, we’d both figured out what we were supposed to be doing. Of course, he’ll probably retain the information better than I will, but as long as one of us knows…. The trainer and I talked a bit more about working Duncan on boundary herding, but I think we’ll hold off on that until the new year. We’ve got to at least get past the three upcoming trials before we throw in something new. The trainer also mentioned that Reyna might be a good candidate for boundary herding – she could work as much or as little as she chose, and she wouldn’t be able to get close enough to eat the sheep. Something to think about, but again, not until the new year.
After we got back to the house, I decided to take Reyna for a short walk so Duncan could eat his breakfast in peace. I’d intended it to be a short one mile meander since it was starting to get warm, but it didn’t work out that way. Instead of walking through the neighborhood, we went down the shoulder of the main road – I figured we’d do some “leave the car alone” practice while we were out – and on our way back, we saw a road leading into the woods. I know there are several roads/paths that lead into the woods behind our cul-de-sac, so I figured we’d take a more scenic route home. But I forgot to factor in Reyna. We got to a split in the road, and Reyna very intently and deliberately took the left path. Now, I knew we needed to go right to get home, but I thought the left fork might take us to the big sand pit where we typically start our tromps into the woods. Boy, was I wrong. It actually took us all the way around to where we generally turn around and head back home. Of course, Reyna found the only big puddle out there, and promptly covered herself in some nasty, stinky muck. So, two and a half miles and nearly an hour after we left, we made it back home. Reyna wasn’t at all bothered by the long walk (or the bath she received immediately after), and I think that was mostly due to the soft surfaces. She still shows a bit of strain when I push for two miles in the neighborhood, even though she tries to walk through yards for most of that.
Sunday, we went over to John’s so the pups could run in the pasture. I think we were there for about an hour and a half, and it was starting to get a bit warm. This was the first time that it was very clear that, while she’s moving easily again, Reyna does not have the stamina or endurance that she used to have. She ran and played and barked at the Horses!, but she also spent a fair bit of time resting next to (or in) her water bucket.
When it seemed like she was pretty much done trying to aggravate the Horses! (who were almost completely ignoring her), I took the pups for a stroll through the woods behind John’s house. He hasn’t done any clearing out there lately, so we had to fight our way through some tall growth, but we had a good time.
Reyna found the stream, naturally, and managed to get a bit more muck on her.
The sure sign that Reyna was finally tired was that when we got back to the barn, she didn’t make any effort to go back at the horses – she went to the back of the truck, instead, and waited for me to open it for her. When we got home, she actually crashed for almost an hour and a half. This morning, I could tell Reyna was still tired, but she wasn’t limping at all. I really like her tired. The hopeful part of me thinks maybe this will become more common, because she is getting a bit older, after all. The realistic part of me figures its only temporary until she gets back in shape. But I really like her tired.
I know the calendar says Fall doesn’t officially start for a couple more days, but it’s already happening here. Yesterday, I noticed the first leaves of the season on the ground. I am so ready for Fall to really take hold. The cooler nighttime temps of the last few weeks have been wonderful, but it’ll be even better when they drop another 10-15 degrees. And the daytime temps are just too waffly right now – a nice stable 68-70 degree high would be lovely, thank you very much. The dogs love playing in the cooler air, and I’m really enjoying the lower power bill. And as long as the cats have a patch of sunshine to snooze in, they’re happy, too.
Some of you may recall when I had a cyst removed from my right wrist, back in 1996. It was a very much horrible experience. Along with the pain, the sausage fingers, and the crying, I remember being so mad at Rob because he wouldn’t shut up and let me rest. I had to call Sam and ask him to come back to the dorm, because Rob had to leave. And why did he have to leave? BECAUSE HE WOULDN’T SHUT UP. Sam knew enough to just watch a movie and leave me alone. Then, in 2003, I had a cyst removed from my left wrist. Done by the same doctor, too. Still a very much unpleasant experience, but not nearly as traumatizing as the first surgery. I think the doctor used better drugs the second time. More importantly, I got better drugs, too.
All of which brings me to this afternoon. A new cyst appeared on my left wrist several months ago (in fact, I also have a small cyst on my right wrist, but as long as it doesn’t cause any problems, I’m not going to worry about it). This new cyst recently started causing some pain in my hand, particularly along the line of my index finger and thumb. So, back to the doctor I go. I had to be there at 3:00 for a 3:15 appointment. At 3:30, the nurse took me to an exam room. At 4:05, the doctor decided to pop in for a quick visit. After poking, prodding, twisting, squeezing and manipulating, he determined that, yes, indeed, there’s a cyst on my wrist. He made a very manly effort to pop it, which resulted in nothing more than an overwhelming desire to smack him silly. But I resisted. At 4:10, the doctor was gone and my wrist was being x-rayed. At 4:25, the doctor was back with the x-rays. Apparently, I have the hand and wrist of a 14 year old (a 14 year old with a cyst, but still... And yet, I have the knees of a 55 year old. Go figure.). At 4:33, a nurse was scheduling my surgery. A long wait for a whole lot to happen real fast. The end result is that I go to the hospital October 6 to have the cyst removed during outpatient surgery. They could have done it September 29, but I don’t want my arm in a splint for the herding trial that weekend. Gotta have priorities. With luck, we’ll have a repeat of the 2003 surgery, and not the 1996 trauma. And good drugs. Lots of good drugs.
Now that Reyna’s doing so much better, I’m able to focus more on the fun stuff. In Duncan’s case, that means sheep herding. We’ve been practicing when we can and thankfully, Duncan doesn’t forget what he learned between sessions. He’s been doing so well I’ve entered us into three trials between now and the end of the year. October 2, we’ll be in Denton, NC, trying to earn our Junior Herding Dog (JHD) title. October 31 and November 1, we’ll be in Rougemont, NC, and December 5-6, we’ll be in Sanford, NC. We’ll be working towards our Pre-Trial Tested (PTT) title during the last two trials. The JHD is through the American Herding Breed Association (AHBA), and the PTT is through the American Kennel Club (AKC). So, similar, but different. If we earn our PTT at Rougemont or the first day in Sanford, we might bump up to the next level, which would be Started (HS) – I just have to figure out if I’d rather run Course A or Course B. Eh, well...I’ll worry about that later.
I’m not sure who is more excited – Reyna or Duncan. They both got new balls Saturday. Reyna has a shiny new basketball, freshly punctured and partially deflated. She’s more than happy to run after it, but she’s also decided she really enjoys just laying down and licking it. Duncan got a new purple jolly ball, because Reyna managed to destroy his old red one after her last basketball was taken from her. Duncan can’t figure out if he wants to chase his jolly ball or harass Reyna when I throw her basketball, so he runs back and forth, trying to do both at the same time.
Its been a long road, but we’re finally at the end. From surgery to release, it was over 4 months. Nearly 18 weeks. 124 days. A third of a year. Of course, as someone pointed out yesterday, I’d have been really annoyed to spend so much money and have the whole thing over and done with in just a few days. After all, if it was that easy, it shouldn’t be so expensive. But it wasn’t that easy, and it was so expensive. And frustrating. Heart-wrenching. Nerve-wracking. Terrifying. I sincerely hope we never have to go through anything like this again.
As difficult as it was, though, I know it could have been so much worse. We were very lucky in that we didn’t have any major complications. The set-back in July really only cost us a month. I also know this would have been harder without the help and support of so many people. Thanks so much to everyone who contributed to the success of Reyna’s hip replacement, whether financially, physically or emotionally. Reyna may not appreciate what you’ve done for us, but I do.
And speaking of Reyna...she is truly enjoying her new-found freedom. Her first night, Tuesday, was a bit rough, but that’s because she had to relearn a few things. When I told Reyna to go to bed, she was a bit confused because I’d already put her crate back in the garage. It took her a bit to realize that I meant she could sleep on either of the beds, or the couch, or the chair, or even the floor. She also had to figure out that, even though she could see out the kitchen windows for the first time in months, she really didn’t need to bark at every single thing that moved or flickered. That one took her a while, but she was pretty well settled down by midnight.
Yesterday was so entertaining. Reyna met me at the hall door in the morning with her entire body wagging. She got confused again when I took her out the front door to start our walk – she hasn’t gone through that door since the surgery. We spent the evening in the back yard, me in a chair with my book, and the pups running themselves ragged. Reyna and Duncan chased each other around the yard for almost 30 minutes before collapsing for a brief rest. Duncan is so excited that he’s allowed to play with his sister (and that I’m not fussing at him for trying). Reyna also had a great time barking ferociously at some of the neighborhood children, now that she can see through the front door again. All in all, this freedom thing is definitely a blast. But the best part - the absolute best part - is that Reyna isn’t hurting anymore.
I am pleased (excited, thrilled, ecstatic, overjoyed) to announce that the surgeon has given Reyna a clean bill of health and said that she is free to go forth and be a dog! No more confinement, no more restrictions other than basic common sense (no seven mile treks through Umstead Park until we’re actually in shape). Reyna is allowed to run, jump and play to her heart’s content. I’m sure that will result in some soreness while she gets used to doing those things again, but we can deal with that. The surgeon said that the implant looks perfect, with no shifting or slipping, and that the fissure that occurred during the surgery has closed nicely. Interestingly enough, the surgeon also said that they can tell she’s really using her new hip – they did a muscle atrophy check, and there is now more atrophy in her left (non-surgical) hip than in her right. I’m glad to know the new hip is doing its job.
As a counterpoint to the trazodone video, I took this little clip shortly after we got home today. Its about a minute, but Reyna is doped on the seriously good drugs that they use when they need get those unpleasant hip x-rays so she's moving a bit slower than usual.
As I’m typing this, Reyna is semi-conscious beside me. Notice the tongue...
Reyna’s at the vet school this morning for her check-up and x-rays. The surgeon was upbeat about the likely results, but couldn’t say anything certain until after the exam. So, Duncan and I are waiting, again. Hopefully, we’ll have a definite answer by early afternoon.
Reyna's been on Trazodone since her surgery, originally getting 100mg twice a day. The surgeon put her on the drug to keep her as calm as possible during her recuperation. When we had our setback in July, the surgeon increased the dose to 150mg twice a day, which is the absolute most my 75 pound girl can safely have, and a higher dose than most people take. I noticed the other day that the bottle actually says "calming agent" on it. That started me thinking about just how calm she's been for the last couple of months, so I decided to get some of that calmness on video. This clip was originally nearly two minutes, but I cut out about 40 seconds of her staring obsessively at Niko.
We hit 17 weeks post-op tomorrow. I’d love to say that everything is going great, but I’m afraid to be too enthusiastic. It seems like every time I get confident that we’re going to make it through, something else happens. I’m going to go with “cautiously optimistic,” I think. That should be safe enough.
The neighbor has been allowed to live. Reyna limped Thursday and Friday last week, but by Saturday morning she was moving nicely. We didn’t walk while she was limping, but we have the last few days, and we’re up to almost a mile per walk. The cool weather has been a huge benefit, and both pups are feeling very frisky. Reyna’s been wanting to play outside a lot more, and I’ve been letting her as long as she doesn’t get too crazy. Course, she’s not really the problem - Duncan is. He wants to play like they used to, and he hasn’t quite figured out what’s allowed and what isn’t. For example, running circles around Reyna and rolling on the ground is allowed, but grabbing Reyna’s back legs and pulling is not. You’d think the distinction would be fairly clear, but apparently not to Duncan.
We have less than a week to go before we see the surgeon. I so hope he releases Reyna to be free and live her doggie life. We’ll all benefit from that (except maybe the cats). We just have to make it through five more days without any major problems. It sounds easy, but...
