Santa Paws 2009

I don’t see a reason to cancel an inexpensive family tradition just because I’m mostly jobless, so last night I took the pups for their annual photos with Santa Paws, hosted by the local SPCA. I decided to make a minor change in how we did things, and I think it worked out for the best. The SPCA usually has time slots during the week and weekend before Thanksgiving, and then the first weekend in December. In 2005, we went the first weekend in December and got some really cute pictures. In 2006, we went the weekend before Thanksgiving, the place was a mad house and the pictures weren’t very good, so we ended up going again the first weekend in December. We got some good pictures that time. For 2007 and 2008, I decided to not mess with a good thing and just go in December – good pictures both years. This year, though, my free time is a bit different, so I scheduled us for a late slot on a weeknight, thinking there probably wouldn’t be too many dogs in the room. I was right – there was a pair of dogs leaving when we got there, and another pair came in as we were finishing. Having a calm, quiet room certainly helped keep Reyna and Duncan focused. The SPCA changed things a bit this year, too. In the past, we had to wait a week and then go pick up our prints and a CD. This year, though, we had the option of having a link emailed to us so we could download the photos – and the really neat thing is that I got the pictures today, rather than sometime next week (plus, I saved myself nearly an hour for the pickup trip). Below are the pictures that the photographer and whoever else with the SPCA looks at these considered to be the five best pictures of the bunch, in the order they were taken.

Nothing Too Bad

Reyna had her extremely belated annual checkup today. We’ll get the results of her blood work on Monday, but we’re not expecting anything unusual from that. Doc told me to up her Benadryl intake to see if it will help clear up her itchies, and to call him in a week if it doesn’t. He said one possibility is that she has a flea allergy (since she is, after all, allergic to most of the rest of the world), and if that’s the case, it could be a single flea bite that caused her current problem. Thankfully, there’s still no indication that she has fleas, so if it was a flea bite, it may have happened when we went to the Mutt Strutt earlier this month. Of course, there’s no way to know, so we’ll just keep trying the Benadryl. The vet and I also talked about Reyna’s limping, and he noticed that her left ankle seemed stiff. Probably just a wrong step and something that will go away soon. He had me walk and trot her, and we talked about the fact that she doesn’t have the range of motion in either hip that she used to have. I’d noticed before that she wasn’t taking long strides anymore. Watching her from the side, its also noticeable that she’s hunching forward some and carrying more weight on her front legs than she should. The only way to correct that is more exercise. I’m going to talk to the kennel owner and see if we can work out an arrangement for Reyna to use their swimming pool a couple of times a week. If we can, that should help build muscle and increase her range of motion. The vet also commented that Reyna’s a little underweight (a mere 71 pounds, as opposed to Duncan’s 117), but considering her joints, being thin is for the best. Doc said everything else looks great. All in all, it wasn’t a bad checkup.

That. Was. So. Cool.

Yesterday, Duncan and I went to Pittsboro for a herding session. The trainer is letting me swap work for training, so I don’t have to pay cash for the lesson. We did about 30 minutes of herding, then an hour of work, then another 30 minutes of herding. It worked out really well for everyone, I think.

After our regular herding practice, we decided to try Duncan on boundary herding. Instead of moving the sheep around the fenced area, the point of boundary herding is to have the sheep in a big open area while the dog guards the perimeter. The dog isn’t allowed to cross the boundary into the grazing area, and the sheep aren’t allowed to cross the boundary out of the grazing area. The handler is essentially just supposed to hang out while the dog does all the work. The trainer is hopeful that working boundaries will build Duncan’s confidence and teach him that he doesn’t need to be right up on me when we’re working the sheep (which would be very useful when we’re doing the other style of herding).

This was our first experience with boundary herding, and I wasn’t sure how it was going to go. Duncan was thrilled when the trainer asked him to gather up the entire flock and move them. He got them into the grazing area with no problem at all. The boundary was a path around the grazing area – one side was just the path, the next side was the path along the fence line, the third side was the path along the tree line, and the fourth side didn’t have a clear path – it was just the tree line. I was in the process of asking the trainer “How do you teach the dog the boundary?” and I’d just gotten “how do” out of my mouth when Duncan came to a screeching halt at the edge of the path. The trainer: “You were saying?” Me: “Never mind.” Duncan picked up the boundary idea very fast – the few times he tried to cross it was to come to me, not the sheep. As the sheep moved farther away from us, he figured out that he needed to get closer to them, but he stayed on the path. We only showed him the open side and the path along the fence line – he figured out the path along the tree line on his own. And watching him run the boundary, especially the side that was just the tree line, with no instruction from either of us, was absolutely amazing. Within just a few minutes, he learned a herding method that was entirely different from what he’s been doing. I am so proud of my boy!

The Dangers Of Television

I was watching a movie this afternoon (don’t remember what it was called; it wasn’t very good) that was set in the 1880s out in the middle of nowhere, and it started me thinking (I know, always a dangerous prospect). One of my ex-bosses told me that I should see the layoff as an opportunity. What he meant was that I would find a job doing the same or similar work to what I’d been doing, only I’d make a lot more money doing it (the general consensus was that I was underpaid for my job because of the way I moved up within the company, as opposed to coming into the company specifically to do that job). As I was watching the movie today, it occurred to me that he was right about seeing the layoff as an opportunity, but he wasn’t necessarily accurate about the *type* of opportunity. Instead of focusing on finding the “right” job - which could potentially lead to relocating - I should think about the places I’d like to live and see what jobs are available in those areas. I know this could upset a lot of the people who read this, because the places I’ve always thought about are not in North Carolina.

I haven’t been able to shake the idea since it hit. Let’s face it, being unemployed makes this the perfect time to enact a significant change in my life – I’m not tied to a job, which means I don’t have that excuse/rationale for not making a change. And why should I make my priorities job first, location second? Raleigh wasn’t my first choice for a place to live, or even my second – it just sort of happened. So maybe its time to be proactive, get serious about figuring out where I’d like to live, and reorder my priorities – location first, job second.

Baby Girl

Poor Reyna hasn’t been feeling too spiffy lately. Her attitude is generally upbeat, but she’s been limping on and off since the first cold spell a few weeks ago. I don’t think its necessarily her new hip, since her other hip is also bad and her shoulders are arthritic. But she’s definitely uncomfortable at times. A couple of days ago, she started scratching and chewing on herself, and when I pet her, she’s itchy and twitchy. I’ve been dosing her with Benadryl, and she got a bath this afternoon, which I hope will help. I checked, and there’s no indication of fleas (thank goodness). If we’re lucky, its just a minor allergic reaction to something, and the Benadryl will fix her up. Of course, if its that, I have to wonder what she’s reacting to. Just a seasonal thing, or (Dog forbid) something I brought home on my clothes from the kennel? She’s scheduled to see the vet next Friday to have her very belated annual exam, so if she’s not better by then, he might have a suggestion or two. Or, he might just look at her, shake his head, and say “Well, it is Reyna.”

Just A Bit Of Whining

This job search stuff is hard. I don’t like it. Spending hours in front of the computer each day, trolling through the many, many job sites, trying to figure out which postings are duplicates of postings on all the other sites, and constantly thinking “have I read this one already?” I’m tracking which ones I’ve applied to, so I don’t have to worry about that. Editing the cover letter each time, because you can’t have a nice generic cover letter, oh, no. It has to be specific to the position. Trying to figure out if I meet all of the requirements listed, and if I don’t, do I meet enough of them that I can still sound qualified. Its just frustrating. Sigh. I remember not liking the job search last time, but at least that time was by my own choosing. I really don’t like this forced job hunt. Stupid lay off.

Okay. Whining over.

A Howling Bad Time

Wednesday night, the wind was blowing pretty hard. At one point, it actually howled for a few seconds. Duncan was passed out in his chair, but when the wind howled, he woke up, jumped (almost fell, really) out of the chair, and landed with stiff legs and raised hackles. The poor guy stared at the back door for a minute or so, and then finally started to relax. Instead of getting back in his chair, though, he climbed on the couch and spent the rest of the evening curled up next to me.

Where’s My Canoe?

I know its been a while since I’ve posted, but I’ve been a bit distracted. I figured now’s as good a time as any to do a basic catch-up.

So far, no luck on the job hunt. I’ve been throwing my resume at anyone who’ll take it, but its just one more in a big stack of paper. Don’t worry, I’m not giving up – after all, its only been a couple of weeks. Sooner or later, someone has to be more interested in my resume than everyone else’s, right?

In the meantime, I’m still getting some hours at the kennel. Which brings me to Thanksgiving. I certainly won’t be making it to the western part of the state for the holiday this year. That’s going to be a busy week at the kennel, so I’ll be able to get a lot of hours that week (with time and a half on Thursday). Christmas is still up in the air.

My eye is finally much better. There’s still a bit of irritation at the corner of the lower lid, but it only bothers me when it itches.

Reyna’s been feeling pretty good lately, although I think me being home so much has her more tired than usual. It must be exhausting, feeling like she has to be constantly involved in everything I do. I need to get into town to get her a new bottle of Rimadyl and a bag of kibble, but I think I’m going to need a boat to do that.

Duncan was supposed to have a long herding session tomorrow (I’m trading work for lessons with the trainer), but that’s not going to happen. I got an email from the trainer this morning – her property is already flooded and the rain is still coming down. Oh, well. We’ll get to it next week, once the floods recede.

The cats – and particularly Belle – are all healthy (paws crossed they stay that way). They’ve been enjoying the cooler weather, because it means I use the heated mattress pad at night. The only downside is that it can get uncomfortable with six cats on the bed. You wouldn’t think it’d be a problem with a queen-size bed, but they all seem to feel the need to be pressed up against some part of me. Of course, it’s a good gauge of the temperature – when its really cold, it’s a Six Cat Night.

Yay, Antibiotics!

I don’t know if it’s the pills or the drops or both – and I don’t really care – but the meds are definitely working. The swelling is much less noticeable today than yesterday, and my eye doesn’t feel nearly as icky. Its nice not having my vision significantly blocked by part of my face.

There’s A Tear In My Beer

Well, not really, but that tune has been running through my head the last couple of days. Only now, the lyrics are “there’s a stye in my eye.” I woke up Saturday morning with soreness in my lower eyelid, and I figured one of the cats had probably kicked me during the night (its happened before). Sunday, I woke up to find the corner of my lower eyelid was red and swollen. When I woke up Monday, the swelling had spread almost to my cheekbone. I called my eye doc and was able to get an appointment yesterday afternoon. She said it’s a pretty aggressive infection, considering how fast it spread from just soreness to so much swelling. So now I’m on antibiotics to clear up the infection and medicated eye drops to keep the infection from spreading into my eye. This morning, I look like someone decided to punch me in the eye. I foresee cold compresses in my future.

On the upside, my wrist is feeling better, and I’m finally out of the brace. I just need to work on the flexibility. Belle is also finally doing better – she seems to have shaken off all but the last remnants of her cold.

“Thank You” Isn’t Really Nice

I could rattle off a list of things that contributed to what happened today, but why bother? The end result is that we had a really crappy run. I have GOT to get better with the stock stick, and Duncan has GOT to quit trying to eat sheep when he gets agitated (its really hard to convince the judge he didn’t do it when he has wool hanging from his mouth). We had a couple of good spots in our run, but the vast majority of it was just awful. We were “thank you’d” by the judge before we finished. In this type of activity, “thank you” does not equate to “good job.” Instead, “thank you” means “get your dog and get off my field.” It just was not a good day for us. On the upside, this means I don’t have to stress over whether or not we’re ready for Course A Started at the Sanford trial – nope, we’ll be working to get our second PT leg. Oh, well...such is life.

I’ll be posting the video from yesterday’s run sometime today or tomorrow. And no, I won’t be posting the video from today’s run.

Halfway There

Our PT run went pretty well today (video coming soon). We had a few minor snags, but nothing serious. The sheep started out really light – I had to set Duncan up a second time, because the first time I set him up the sheep took off when I started walking towards them. Once we all got moving together, though, the sheep turned into knee-knockers and almost plowed me into the fence a time or two. We tried to do a hold on the fence at our turn, but the sheep decided they didn’t feel like waiting for that, and they tried to sneak off while my back was turned. Duncan brought them back very nicely, of course. We had a successful hold in the corner, and then one of the sheep decided to make a break for it. Once again, Duncan did an excellent job of bringing the sheep back to me. When we got to the pen, that same sheep didn’t want to stay with the others, and she ended up on the wrong side of the gate, upset because Duncan was (sort of) between her and the pen. Once I moved Duncan, though, she finally went in. The judge said the only problem we had was that I didn’t have the confidence in Duncan that I should – I need to relax more and just let him do his job. I was better about not constantly looking back and forth to see where he was, so thats something. After the run, we (Duncan) received a lot of compliments from the folks watching. And we earned the first of the two legs we need for Duncan’s PT title. On to tomorrow!

SniffleBelle

Poor Belle picked up a cold a week or so ago. She has a watery eye, a runny nose, and she sneezes a lot, but she’s still eating and drinking, so I’m not too worried. She doesn’t seem particularly lethargic, but then again, she’s a 12½ year old cat, so a certain amount of lethargy is expected. I’ll be watching to make sure she doesn’t get worse, and particularly to make sure she doesn’t stop eating or drinking. There’s not really anything the vet can do for a cold, but if it looks like its turning into something more, she’ll be at the vet’s office before she can sneeze again. My poor little sniffly girl. The other cats are fine, and paws crossed they’ll stay that way.

Such Grace

Duncan and I participated in an AKC herding fun match in Rougemont this past Sunday. We were originally scheduled to have a herding lesson, but when we found out about the match we decided to do that, instead. The match was held at the same location where we’ll be this coming weekend, so I figured it would be excellent practice for us. Nothing better than getting to check out the location and sheep ahead of time. We were able to get two runs on the Pre-Trial Test course, which is exactly what we’ll be doing this weekend.

Duncan did a lovely job. Our trainer said that if we could do that again this weekend, Duncan would earn his PT title with no trouble. She also added that I need to remember that, even though I know Duncan will bring the sheep back to me, the judge won’t know it, so I have to help reassure the judge that Duncan really isn’t going to try and eat the sheep if he has to run after one of them. Duncan did actually put his mouth on a sheep a couple of times, but he never grabbed them – it was almost like he was just reaching out to get a little taste. One cute thing that was pointed out to me was that Duncan’s tail almost never stopped moving. He so obviously loves herding sheep.

The first run went pretty well, once Duncan got the sheep back to me. The pick up went better on the second run, but we did have one little snag. Keep an eye out for something that happened around the 1:50 mark. I wish I could blame the sheep, but I’m pretty sure I did it to myself. Both runs, we had some trouble with penning the sheep at the end. Duncan and I have a lesson scheduled for Wednesday (one good thing about no job is that our training schedule is a lot more flexible), and I told Claire that we absolutely have to work on penning the sheep with a gate that latches on the right. Her main gate latches on the left with the hinges on the right, and both Duncan and I are so used to that setup that we have trouble with gates that latch on the other side. Apparently, we both pattern train fairly easily.





Keep your paws crossed that we have good runs Saturday and Sunday. If we do, Duncan will earn his PT title and I can spend time obsessing over whether or not we should move up to Course A Started for the December trial in Sanford.

Just A Little Fella

Duncan had his annual exam today. Everyone was a little startled when he weighed in at a petite 117 pounds. That’s right – my boy weighs almost 120 pounds. He’s in excellent overall health, and if Duncan were anything but a GSD, he wouldn’t be considered overweight. Because of his breed and the potential for joint problems, the vet said he’d like to see Duncan about 5 pounds lighter. The vet also commented that he can tell Duncan’s added quite a bit of muscle since his last exam. We’ve all been on a diet since Reyna’s surgery, but it looks like its time to cut back on his kibble a bit more. Poor Duncan.

...Followed By A Fun Weekend

Saturday was a good day. I took Reyna for a ride in the truck and then to a small park in Knightdale. She was so excited to get out of the house and go somewhere. We rode around for about 30 minutes, and then spent another 30 minutes or so at the park. We had the park to ourselves, which was even better.

Saturday evening, I went to Pittsboro to meet Mary and Pat at the Carolina Tiger Rescue (formerly the Carnivore Preservation Trust). We’d been there before, but we wanted to check out the twilight tour, as the cats are supposed to be more active at that time of night. Since I got a lot of pictures at our last visit, I didn’t bother to take my camera. I’ll pause for a moment so you can get over your shock. Better now? Naturally, since I didn’t have my camera, the white tiger was on the tour this time (he wasn’t the last time we were there). Oh, well.

Sunday was spent in Rougemont, NC, at a herding match. I’ll have more on that later...

A Sad Day...

Friday was my last day at the office. Thankfully, I’d packed my belongings on Thursday. It was amazing how much stuff I’d accumulated in my six years there. John pointed out that it made sense, considering that I basically lived in the office. Realizing he was right was actually worse… I only stayed until lunch time Friday. I spent the morning finishing up an item for a customer, taking care of one last emergency for Dave, and saying good-bye to folks. I did okay with that, except for the times when the other people choked up or got teary-eyed. It was nice, though, in a way, to realize how upset other people were about me leaving. It didn’t make it any easier, but its nice to know I’ll be missed. For a day or so, anyway.

Silly Puppy

I think Reyna may be a “winter limper” from now on. I’ve noticed she’s been limping again with the cold temps we’ve had the last few days. The limp seems to be connected to both the temp and her level of stiffness, so its worse in the mornings than later in the day. I’m inclined to think that some of it is also due to our lack of activity since my wrist surgery, so I’m hoping she’ll improve now that I’m down to just a brace and we can start walking again.

Overall, though, she’s so much better than she was this time last year. I’ve had two clear indications of her improvement – there’s a lot more dust and dirt in my house again (which means she’s playing outside more), and she’s getting in her chair again (which means she’s comfortable both with climbing into it and with curling herself up to fit).



Last night, she gave me yet another indication of her new-found good health. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I know someone flipped her silly switch. I was standing up looking at something when she suddenly popped her head between my legs, holding a big floppy squeaky toy. She spent the next 15 minutes or so dancing and bouncing around, shaking her head with a goofy grin on her face, teasing both me and Duncan, tossing squeaky toys and then her ball in the air. It was the funniest thing I’ve seen in ages, and I really don’t remember the last time she acted like that. I laughed the entire time, and poor Duncan seemed rather bewildered by the sudden spurt in activity, although he was very willing to participate. Its so good to see Reyna playing like this again.

Ahhhhh

Finally! The splint came off today! The nurse got the splint off and pulled the fishing line out from under the skin with minimal fuss. My fingers are still a bit sore, which the doctor said is mostly likely due to residual swelling, and there’s a bit of a greenish tinge to the back of my hand (and no, that’s not mold, that’s bruising). Doc gave me a brace to wear for two weeks, as a lot of movement at this point might actually cause the cyst to reoccur – something about fluid squishing between the bones. I can handle wearing the brace, though, because it’s a lot smaller and lighter than the splint and I can take it off to wash my hand and shower. I also have to stretch my wrist a few times a day to regain the flexibility. As long as I do that, there shouldn’t be any need for me to go to physical therapy. The first thing I did after leaving the doctor’s office was to pop into the restroom to wash my hand, but they didn’t have any soap in the dispensers, the slackers. I had to wait until I got to the office to give it a good scrubbing, followed by a thorough lathering of lotion. Despite the soreness, my wrist and hand feel better than they have since the morning of the surgery.

Ha! I Win!

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.

Visit

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.

Getting Better

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.

Less Ow

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.

Ow

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.

GSD Picnic

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.

Such A Good Boy!

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.

No Eating Sheep!

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).

Cross your paws for us!

AKC RDO Day

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!

You Know...

New windshield wipers can really change your outlook on life.

Good Times

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.

Falling

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.

Fun-Filled Friday

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.

Working Dog

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.

We Has A Happy

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.

Firsts

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.

Freeeeeedommmmm!!!!!

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...

Waiting...Again

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.

"Calm" Is Definitely The Word I'd Use

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.

Remember...."calming agent."

Almost There

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...

“Friendly” May Be A Bit Strong

Since Reyna’s surgery, I’ve been able to keep the door in the hallway open, with just the baby gate separating the four-legged species. Because of this, the cats have reached an uneasy truce with Duncan – they no longer panic and flee when Duncan gets up and walks toward them. Duncan has been meeting me at the gate each morning and he likes to watch the cats as the walk around behind me. Lately, Belle has been following me to the gate and watching Duncan. Over the last week or so, Belle and Duncan have been interacting just a bit through the gate, with Belle rubbing along the gate, and Duncan sniffing at her through the wires.

This morning, Belle was rubbing her face on the gate and Duncan had his head hanging over it (this is a first for him – he usually keeps his head on his side of the gate). Suddenly, the worst thing in the world happened. DUNCAN LICKED BELLE. ON THE HEAD. The look on Belle’s face as she jumped backwards was absolutely priceless. It was a combination of astonished and offended, because OH MY GOD! She was LICKED! By a DOG! A DOG! It was awful! And horrible! She was so startled by the whole thing that she couldn’t even hiss. And then she got over it, and came back to the gate so I could scratch her chin some more. But then, oh my goodness, but then it happened AGAIN. LICKED! On the HEAD! By a DOG! Belle was clearly shocked that Duncan would have the nerve to do such a thing a second time. That’s when I decided it was time to move Duncan into the living room. Because, really, Duncan likes the cats and seems to have a particular fondness for Belle, and I want him to keep that fondness - and his nose – intact. And I wasn’t sure Belle would be so surprised by a third lick that she wouldn’t try to physically express just how offended she was.

Four Long Months

Reyna 16 weeks post-op today. Some days, its hard to believe its been that long. Other days, I feel every excruciating minute of it.

This week has been a good one for Reyna. She hasn’t been limping except when she’s stiff, and she seems to loosen up pretty quickly once she's out of the crate. We started taking walks again this past weekend, and Reyna’s very excited about getting out of the house. She wants to go a lot farther than I’m letting her right now, which is a good sign. We go back to the surgeon in 12 days, so we just have to keep it together until then. Which means we can’t have another morning like we did today.

My obnoxious neighbor did something that made me want to slap him stupid. Come to think of it, I still want to slap him. This is the neighbor with the motorcycle. Reyna hates his motorcycle. I know it, he knows it, I’m pretty sure the whole neighborhood knows it (Reyna isn’t the subtle type). The neighbor generally keeps to a schedule in the mornings, moving the motorcycle out of the shed at 6:30, leaving at 6:45. Reyna usually hears him leave his house and go to the shed, and she barks from then until he turns the motorcycle off in his driveway. And then she starts up again for a minute or so when he leaves, depending on how long he revs the stupid thing in the driveway. This morning, I let Reyna out of her crate to go into the back yard before our walk. She hadn’t been barking and it wasn’t yet 6:30, so I wasn’t worried about the motorcycle. Silly me. For whatever reason, the neighbor decided to move the motorcycle from the shed a bit early. Reyna took off for the fence, running, barking, jumping, twisting, and generally doing all sorts of things she shouldn’t be doing yet. Did the neighbor do the nice thing and turn the motorcycle off for 30 seconds so I could get Reyna on a leash and away from the fence? No, he did not. Instead, he sat there and revved the engine several times. And then smirked and walked back into his house.

This same neighbor has given me grief since Reyna’s setback in early July, talking about how its my fault she got hurt, and how he’s told me over and over what I’m doing wrong, and how its not his fault that she goes nuts over his motorcycle (I’ll grant him that her nuttiness is not his fault, but he enjoys revving the motorcycle unnecessarily and watching her flip out).

I took the pups for an abbreviated walk, hoping it would help loosen Reyna’s muscles and possibly reduce any damage from this morning. When I left for work, though, she was limping. Hopefully, that eases by this evening and we’re not looking at a replay of July because of his jerky behavior. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame him for starting the motorcycle when he did – after all, he’s not required to check and see if Reyna’s in the yard before he does that. What infuriates me is the fact that he couldn’t exercise just a bit of basic decency and turn the thing off when he heard Reyna barking. And yes, I’m sure he heard her, as he’s admitted before that he hears her barking at his motorcycle, even when she’s in the house (as I said, she’s not subtle). Instead, he chose to continue moving the motorcycle, and then chose to rev it unnecessarily several times.

I’m not sure any of us in the house can handle another four weeks of strict confinement without going completely off our rockers. Everyone cross your paws for us. And be prepared to send bail money when I’m arrested for assaulting the neighbor.

And THAT’S Why I Don’t Stay Up Late

When something like a second or third shift job isn’t part of my routine, my natural inclination is to get up fairly early in the mornings. I like to get up, get stuff done, and then have the evening to relax, followed by a reasonable bed time (normally between 10:00 and 10:30pm). This works well for me, particularly when it lets me enjoy activities with my dogs that I might not otherwise be able to do, such as early mornings in the woods for SAR training or in Pittsboro for sheep herding. After all, if I typically stayed up late, it would be very hard to drag myself out of bed at 5:00 so Reyna could look for strangers or Duncan could chase sheep. This isn’t something I tend to think about a lot, but it was brought home to me rather forcefully this past weekend.

Saturday, I was up at my normal time. For my birthday present, John (brother) took me to the Alan Jackson concert Saturday evening. It was fun, even though we were soaking wet by the end of it. I got home around 11ish, and since Reyna’d been crated while I was gone, I stayed up longer than I normally would have so she’d have time to burn some of the energy she stored up during the evening. This meant I got to bed shortly before 1:00 - well after my normal bedtime.

Sunday morning, I slept in until 10am. I haven’t slept that late in I don’t know how long. Normally, I’m up long before 8:00, and if I happen to sleep that late, I feel like I’ve wasted most of the day. So, got up at 10:00, dragged my groggy self into the living room to let Reyna out of her crate, fed the dogs and the bird, and then plopped down on the couch in something closely resembling a stupor. Didn’t do much more than that for the better part of the day. I did take a two hour nap in the afternoon, though. Still draggy at bedtime, but couldn’t actually get to sleep, since I’d slept so late and napped and such. And that was very bad, because I had to be up at 6:00 so Duncan and I could make an 8:00 herding session in Pittsboro (I took Monday off from work). Soooo tired on Monday. Didn’t get much done that day, either – although I did manage to sneak a nap in during the afternoon. I’m back on my normal schedule, but I’m still feeling a bit draggy. I can’t believe how long its taking me to get over one late night. I have to remember to not do that again…

Thank You!

Just wanted to say a quick “thank you” to everyone who took the time to send me a birthday card, email or instant message, to call, to pop into my office, or to post a comment on Facebook or MySpace. Each and every one of those is greatly appreciated. Thank you!

15 Weeks

Reyna seems to be over last week’s spinning and bouncing incident, but I’m not taking any chances. We’ll try a short, easy walk Saturday morning, and see how that goes. I’d like to be able to start walking her every morning, but I don’t think she’ll be ready for twice a day walks right away, even if we do keep them short. I’ve got to get her doing something to burn some energy, though – she’s still snippy with Duncan, and she’s started obsessing over her tail again. At first glance, her tail looks okay, but if you look closely at the tip end, you see that she’s already licked off the fur and some of the skin. She’s being sly about this time - licking in a spot that’s surrounded by long fur so its not so visible.

Freckle Face

I had a nice little chat with our vet this afternoon, and for once, it wasn’t about Reyna. Mikey has a brown spot on his right iris, and being the bad mother that I am, it took me quite a while to realize the brown spot was not part of the original package. Once I made that connection, I started looking through Mikey’s pictures, trying to pinpoint when it first appeared. It looks like it started in April last year, and by August it was definitely there, although not as large as it is now. After I narrowed that down, I sent the vet an email with the details, asking if I should bring Mikey in for a visit. Based on what I was about to tell the vet, he thinks its just a freckle (more scientifically known as iris melanosis). I didn’t even know cats could get freckles on their eyes. Apparently, some cats get a lot of small freckles, and other cats end up with one huge freckle that changes the color of the entire iris. But as long as the freckle stays flat, its not a problem. Here’s to flat freckles!

Mikey in 2003, not an eye freckle to be found!


Mikey today, not real impressed by my efforts to get a picture of his freckle for the vet...

101 Days Of Reyna

Last Thursday was 14 weeks post-op. I know the actual difference is very small, but today is 101 days post-op, and that feels like a much longer time than 14 weeks. And to think, we still have 3 weeks left before we see the surgeon.

Reyna was allowed to start going on walks a week and a half ago, but since the temps went so high, I didn’t bother pushing that. Instead, I waited until this past Thursday to start walking. We took a short walk that evening, and Reyna did very well. Friday morning, though, she had a bit of a limp. I don’t think that’s due to the walk as much as to the fall she took Thursday. She was spinning around (as usual) and she ran into Duncan. Unfortunately for Reyna, she didn’t hit him hard enough for him to move, but just hard enough for her to bounce off. And when she bounced, her back legs went out from under her. She didn’t seem particularly distressed at the time, but between that and the Friday morning limp, I decided we’d put walks on hold again for a while longer. She’s still got a bit of a limp, and she’s started licking her surgical hip, right at the top of the implant, which makes me think that area is irritating her. So, we’ll wait til next weekend to try walking again. I certainly don’t want to push anything and have the surgeon extend her confinement. Especially since that’s starting to visibly wear on Reyna. The last week or so, she’s been getting a bit snotty with Duncan when she goes in her crate. She’s not crazy enough to snap at me (yet), so she still goes in her crate with no arguments, but once she’s in there, she starts saying nasty things to Duncan. It doesn’t get her out of the crate, but it does seem to hurt Duncan’s feelings a bit. He always sighs and puts his head down after she fusses. Of course, that could just be his way of tuning her out…

13 Weeks

We’re 13 weeks post-op today, and things are going well. Reyna’s almost entirely limp free again (knock on wood), and we’ll start taking short walks this weekend. Another bit of good news (or bad, if you’re actually trying to keep Reyna quiet) is that Reyna is definitely feeling like her old self. I’d have been happier if she could have waited on that for another few weeks, but it is what it is. And what it is, is a wound-up, energetic, tired-of-being-crated, darn-near-crazy Reyna. So glad we start walks soon.

Moving On To Stupid

Last night, I was finally going through a stack of mail that’s been building up for a couple of weeks. Imagine my surprise when I open an envelope and find a certificate in recognition of Reyna earning her Level 1 Rally title. Now, I realize it has been a year and a half since Reyna actually earned her title, but since I wasn’t expecting a certificate (I was just thrilled we had ribbons), its not like I was stressing over it. As I was admiring the very nice certificate, I noticed the date the title was awarded – June 21, 2009. That’s right, 2009. And to make things a bit worse, Reyna actually earned her title on January 19, 2008. So they got everything wrong – day, month, and year.

I emailed a friend of mine who happened to be trial secretary for each of the trials we entered, asking her who I should contact to get this fixed. She gave me the email address and said she has all of records and will be happy to help straighten this out. She also said certificates are usually mailed within a month of earning the title. One month, 18 months...no difference, really...

So, I sent the following email to the Rally Coordinator:

Hello -

I received a certificate in the mail a couple of weeks ago for my girl, Vereyna (R-07-5966), earning her Rally Level 1 title. The date on the certificate is June 21, 2009. Vereyna actually earned her title a year and a half ago, on January 19, 2008 (legs were earned July 28, 2007, July 29, 2007, and January 19, 2008). Is there a way to get a certificate with the correct date?

And this morning, I received:

Dear Janine:

Thank you for your inquiry. Title certificates are automatically generated each time trial results are processed. Your dog's trial records indicate the Level 1 title was not earned until June 21, 2009. We do not reconcile official records against exhibitor's personal records. If you would like a copy of your dog's official trial score log, please download the Administrative Research Request form off the rally website (it can be found in Forms for Exhibitors) and mail it to the rally office. Once it is received, we will send you a copy of your dog's trial score log and you can notify us of any specific discrepancies, which we will be happy to research for you.

I sent a response pointing out that, not only have we not entered any trials since January 2008, but on June 21, 2009, Reyna was at home recovering from her THR. Now, I know she has a lot of skills, but I don’t think she’s figured out how to drive the truck. Plus, I’m pretty sure I’d have noticed if she’d been gone all day on a Sunday (and no, I didn’t include those last two sentences in my email, although I thought about it). I also asked the coordinator if it would be possible for her to work directly with my friend, the trial secretary. After sending the email, I downloaded the form she specified. Its $20 dollars to get the trial score log, which I than apparently send back to them with the discrepancies marked. And then it’s another $10 to get a certificate reprinted (which I think they should waive, since its their mistake). Since I’m not inclined to spend $20 to fix their screw-ups, I’m going to try working this through my friend, first. And then maybe I’ll just put some white-out on the certificate and write in the correct date…

Rain, Rain, Go Away...

Yes, I know we need the rain. And no, I generally don't mind it. However, I would really like to cut the grass in the back yard, and I can't do that when its soaking wet. I would greatly appreciate it if Mother Nature would hold off on the rain for a couple of days so the grass will dry enough for me to cut it. Then it can rain again.

Mycroft

My sweet boy is 9 years old today. Happy Birthday, Mikey!

Working Fun

Duncan and I went sheep herding Saturday, for the first time since late November. Our session started at 7:00, which meant we left the house at 5:40. AM. The getting up at 5:00 doesn’t really bother me, and the drive to Pittsboro doesn’t really bother me. It’s the drive back that kills me.

Duncan managed to stay awake for the drive down, which surprised me a bit. Of course, he wanted the graham crackers I was eating for breakfast, so I’m sure that was part of it. When we took the exit for Pittsboro, Duncan perked up with an “I think I know where I am” look on his face. With each turn we made, he got a little more excited, moving from a sniffing interest to dancing and pacing in the back. When we made the last turn onto Claire’s road, he started whining and moaning and licking my face. If I don’t know better, I’d think he was excited…..

The first comment Claire made was that Duncan has grown up. She said his face doesn’t have any more puppy in it. I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess she’s right.

Duncan had a wonderful time working the sheep. The only trouble he had was me. I’m planning to enter us in a herding trial in late October, so Claire was really working us on technique. Duncan picked up what she wanted him to do pretty quickly, which was basically to stay off the sheep unless he actually needed to get close to them. I was so impressed a couple of times – Duncan was about 15 feet away from the flock, and Claire asked him to turn the sheep. He didn’t even move, he just looked at the sheep, and they all turned. It was amazing. Then Claire had me work with the flock and Duncan while she stood in the middle of the arena, and it all went downhill from there. Duncan tried to do what I asked, but I had a bit of trouble figuring out how to ask the right way. Duncan got so frustrated a couple of times that he walked over to Claire and stood with her. She finally had to get almost to the other side of the arena so he’d stop doing that. I’m also having to learn techniques that are opposite from how I normally do things, so retraining myself is going to be a priority. By the end of the session, though, I think we were doing pretty well. Duncan and I were successfully moving the flock around obstacles at a steady pace, making turns, and stopping the flock. It’ll take some more work, but I think we’ll be ready for the trial.