Where we are....one year later

Well, we're almost at the one year mark. December 18th, 2010, we found out that the King was in renal failure and was thrombocytopenic. Under the watchful eyes of Dr Graham and the staff at Sangaree Animal Hospital, we were referred to Dr Sergio Chalhoub at Charleston Veterinary Referral Center. Dr Serge has been amazing, allowing Dr Graham to perform the blood work and to make changes to Stet's med regimen (reminds me of some of my older patients with their WalMart bags full of meds!), all the while watching from the wings. Imagine your vet telling you that he and the "specialist" sit at Stingray's hockey games and discuss your dog's health and the plan of action! Stet truly doesn't know how lucky he is to have these fellows taking care of him. Of course, CitiCard doesn't care if he ever gets well....they're making some serious dough off his mom!

We're on a quarter dose of the Pred that we rapidly ramped up to, since his platelet count wasn't responding. Since then, he's also on Azothioprine, a chemo agent, that basically slams his immune system into submission. Dr Serge determined that Stetson's platelet problem was auto-immune, meaning that his bone marrow was destroying all those lovely little clotting platelets.....To add to those two, he's also on Prilosec since the Pred irritates his GI tract, causing some bleeding, which he can't afford. With the platelets and the renal failure, my boy is also slightly anemic. The last time we had a urinalysis done, he was spilling protein into his urine, which was worrisome. His renal numbers (after feeding a renal specific dog food) have normalized, but the protein worried the Doc. We went to Dr Serge for a BP check (normal) to make sure high BP wasn't the culprit. Then we added Benazapril to his list, to keep that protein in check. Both vets assure me that the protein is likely secondary to the high dose Prednisone we've been on so long......Will this never end?

We went today to our favorite Dr Graham, and had some blood drawn, so tomorrow we should hear results. We'll know if we can notch that Pred down once more! Slow dance, since we can't take him off fast....my medical friends understand that this would send his body into steroid withdrawals, like a "storm" and could kill him. After all we've been through and done, he's gonna have to hang around (although I threaten to off him about once a week!!!!). Prednisone is an evil drug! It's made bad habits worse, and fried the little brain he had......he's a hot mess. My Mom can't understand my addiction and loyalty to this dog....he's a troublemaker, untrainable, and a general pain in the rear. I can't really explain it either, other than to say....I think back on that May afternoon in Maryville, TN, when I walked up and laid eyes on his (as Karen says) "Sexy beast" self, it was over. He had me at the first look! Big sad brown eyes in that flashy black and white face.....looking miserable in a crate, as if to say "Can you help me? I'm not a prisoner. I don't belong in here." For the record, the crate still insults his royal highness.

If I'd had psychic powers then, and known the road we were going to travel, would I have left him in the hand of the rescue? No. Karen knew it, and I knew it. When he went home as "foster", he was never to be available again. I have made the occasional threat, and came pretty close to relocating him, but I feel to guilty to do it. I feel like I made him a promise, and I have to make good on it. For all his drama (and mine), he's mine. I've brought him this far, and if we have 3 more years together or 3 months, well, I feel like he knows he's home, and he knows....I'm his human. The big goat.

Sir Elliott and Miss Sadie Mae are as well as well can be. Ell has a cherry eye, and we got a quote on that repair. HOLY MOSES! I'm going to have to find some overtime to cover that one. He's insulted that he's not an only child, and lets his siblings know it often and at full volume. He spends his days sleeping with one eye open.....to growl when they dare to invade his personal space (the entire first floor of the house), but he rarely wins the argument. He is definitely not the Alpha. Sadie is crazy. What else can be said. She's 18 pounds of black and white spots.....she's been mistaken for a Dalmation puppy when shaved for the summer.....but she likes to taunt the King. She may not live to see her 4th birthday at the rate she's going.....She is also a hot mess.

So. That's where we are in the world of the Canines. May not fascinate you, but....they're my children, and for whatever they cost me.....Your 2 legged's will cost you 50 times more. And, I can crate mine and escape.....you're stuck with yours for the long haul!

The King Stetson Story

In May 2008, I was volunteering with Cocker Companions Rescue, and was mainly helping at events and transporting dogs. We were scheduled out at Maryville on a Sunday afternoon, and I was going to meet two of our newest fosters. The day was gorgeous, and there was a great crowd! By the time I got out of church and over to Maryville (Murville for you natives) it was about 1 o'clock. When I got there, Karen and the crew were there already, setting up and settling in our fuzzies. I walked up, and saw the most gorgeous bundle of black and white Cocker goodness that I'd ever laid eyes on. He was freshly groomed, bandana intact, and sitting in the large crate looking out as if to say "Take me home. I am too good to be on display this way." The King has this trademark, hangdog stare, and he was putting it on this day. Well, he had me at "Woof." I walked him, got him chipped and brought him back over. I said to Karen "You do realize I'm in love with this dog." Evil grin from fair rescue director, and she said, "He is a sexy beast." Meanwhile, a lady had seen the King on our website, and she was on her way to meet him. Glad he had a potential home, but kinda jealous as he was such a handsome mug.

At the end of that day, his potential had turned into a giant No, and Karen asked if I'd take him home and foster him, as he'd been living in boarding at the vet. Sure. No problem. Within 3 days, I called Karen and had her remove him from the adoptables list. He ran away with my heart, and has yet to return it. The big, goofy clown of a dog is one of my favorite things in life. He knows what buttons to push, and he pushes them well. He acquires new friends wherever we go, and he has the ability to make everyone fall in love with him. He is.....a lover. Some of you have asked about where he came from....so here goes.

My giant, silly, clown of a Cocker was a breeder's stud in a puppy mill. Karen got a call about the mill shutting down, and wanted to know if we'd take some of the dogs. My understanding is that Stetson was left 24/7 in a 4x4 run, and bred with a rape box. Makes him sound like he was not a nice boy, huh? He had hair covering his eyes, and was in a sad state. The groomer was actually able to save his coat, not shave him, which was a miracle. He likes his toys, and has a touch of source guardian in him, but we make sure he can't take possession of much of anything, and the fights are limited. Overall, he's a good boy, and I'm happy to say I think his life with me is better than any day at the mill.

I'm no stranger at our vet's office with this guy. He's had his belly x rayed for bleeding in the summer 08, as he ate something (who knows what) that he shouldn't have. In early 09, we went to the pet ER at 1030 at night when he acted like he couldn't walk, and was in great pain. I now own an xray of his lovely foot and leg....all over a pulled toe nail. I was hoping that would be the last of the "nonsense" but it was not to be.

In December, the King and his sister Sadie got into over something, what exactly, I cannot remember, but she lunged and attacked. The face and nose are very vascular, and he bled for 2 hours. Into the Pet ER in North Charleston at 10pm with the boy. We escaped xrays, and even stitches this time. The vet there felt he'd need something for pain, but wanted to check his kidney function first. His was elevated, or not functioning appropriately, and she wanted us to follow up with our vet. We did start some antibiotics for the "dog bite". (Still makes me laugh that a dog got a dog bite.) And we called our vet the next day.

In the midst of the kidney problems, we also learned that Stetson had a low platelet count, down to about 2,000. Normal count for canines is 200-400,000. Holy Moses! I spoke to our vet at length about treatment and testing, and cost. I've got to say that anyone who thinks it's easy to be a pet parent in this day and time is crazy. After learning what just the testing was going to cost, I told Dr Graham that I just can't do it. I can't afford it. (I know I'm going to catch it here). He was in agreement. He said that we'll treat the platelets for now (clotting blood is more important at this point) and if and when I'm able, we'll delve into the kidney issues. I'm hoping and praying this was a fluke thing, maybe a virus or something that elevated those numbers, but I've got a feeling that it's more than that.

The King is not acting sick. He's the same old goofy, laundry stealing, food interested ball of black and white fluff that he always has been. He likes his naps, and he comes to my lap every night for cuddle time with Mom. If anyone else is there first, well, he just puts it in 4wd and knocks them out of the way. He is, after all, the King. And a hot mess.

I'm probably in over my head with 3 Cockers, but the thought of sending even one away sends chills down my spine. I'm convinced that they have a better life with me than they did previously, and while I know that all 3 could have gone to equally wonderful homes elsewhere......*sigh*....they are mine, and they are loved and cared for. And as I watch the 3 of them napping at the moment, I am content. I don't know what I'd do without them. They are my entertainment.

What they're up to now....

This year, the trio is enjoying the warmer weather of South Carolina. They're still spending quality crate time while Mom is at work or out and about, but they sure love to be free. Of late, the ringleader and King has decided that he has to be touching Mom all the time, so he spends his time sitting in the floor, staring up at me, whining. When the computer or whatever book I'm reading vanishes, King Stetson leaps into my lap. Reminder : this boy is 36 pounds of black and white spotted mischief. He then circles 3 times, goes down, and lets out a sigh that says "Thank goodness....I wasn't sure how much longer I could take it." He is, as we say, a hot mess.

Yesterday I put up our Christmas tree (any of you call it a holiday tree, and Ima smack you) and the trio watched in great interest. They were ecstatic that my car was out of the garage and I'd left the house door open. I'm betting that they went in and out at least 50 times each.....each time in wonder, like they'd never been in the garage before (they're out there twice a day, since that's where their food stays). Each box that was brought in had to be thoroughly sniffed. I don't know what kind of training the airport dogs get, but I'd lay money that my nosy Cockers could give them a run for their hard earned treats! Elliott grew bored with the investigation and wandered back out to the garage to see what might have been there since he was there last. Sadie checked out the tree.....and then proceeded to Hoover up all the scattered needles....I can't wait to see what the yard looks like in a day or two. Stetson had his usual case of "don't get out of my sight, Mom, I might not make it". He trekked every step with me.

Once it was all up, and a few ornaments on it, I plugged in the lights.....Sadie hid behind the couch, Elliott paid no attention, and the King.....Well, he made himself right at home under it. My nice Satin tree skirt made for comfy place to lie a tired Cocker mug......Naturally, he didn't stay there while I tried to get the camera.....you know, since I have this habit of abandoning him so much! For right now, it seems to be old news....they've not offered to mess with it or take anything off of it....I guess nothing on it smells like Lamb n rice or Duck n yams.....hopefully it will stay that way. Sadie and Elliott, no one worries about...they couldn't care less about things. But...the King is a different story....he's a klepto.....no telling what he'll decide looks tasty!

I find it most amusing that I spend $$ on dog beds, nice cushy plush dog beds, and these 3 will have nothing to do with it. Let one of the sofa blankets or a towel fall in the floor (or the Christmas tree skirt go down) and they're on it like white on rice....they love it. They claim it. I'm just curious what the difference is? It can't be scent....the tree skirt is new. Just wonder what goes through a Cocker mind when they spy something that they wanna try out!

On another note, Stetson has learned to play fetch....now, he's not perfected it, but he does get the general idea. He practically grins when he's the first to the ball (and don't think he doesn't muscle in on his siblings to get it) and smiles all the way back. He dances for a minute, he preens a bit, and then he comes to me. Of course, I have to pry the ball out of that mouth, and he's ready again. Elliott is, naturally, the A 1 fetcher. He flies after the ball, often catching it in the air, grabs it and brings it back. He must place it in my hand, or he won't let go. He waits, patiently, for his siblings (and you can see the words "Move outta my way, moron!" on his little face) to move so he can drop the ball and be ready to go again! Sadie hasn't really caught on. She flies after the ball, and she can get it on occasion, but bring it back? HA! No way. I have to chase her down and grab it....all the while she looks on confused at why someone would take her treasure....maybe one day she'll get it. They all enjoy a good romp in their yard....and the ball makes it even better. Just say the word "ball" and watch the show.

Currently 2 are napping....and the King.....well, he's busily trying to get in my lap though the computer is there. For now, he'll drape that long body out over my legs and wait on the lap to be free.....and then he'll move it. Elliott is to my right on the loveseat, growling at Stetson with a warning to Buzz Off! Sadie is stretched out on the couch, in true Sadie Style...long ways....asleep. Not much bothers her.....unless she misses something edible that her brothers got and she missed.

Guess it's Cocker cuddle time.....

The Kids--Where it all started.

Way back in 1994, after my Dad passed away and while I was working for Fairey Chevrolet, I got the bright idea to "buy" a Cocker Spaniel Puppy. She was 2 lbs of blonde sassiness, and she was called "Hoopie". Don't ask me where that came from, but somehow she got baby talked to death, and that became her name. She was bought from a backyard breeder in Norway, SC. The business was Kennels and Cars of Norway. The breeder delivered her to me and her brother to a co-worker on a Friday at lunch time. She stayed in a box with me at work with her towel and a tennis ball. Didn't make a peep.

I took her home to my Mom, who was displeased at yet another animal brought home to the farm, but fell in love with her just like I did. To say I was ignorant in caring for a dog was an understatement. Living out in the country, we were not strangers to having animals dumped on our farm. Countless puppies, cats and kittens, and a few stray dogs showed up periodically. Dad was unhappy, Mom was saddened and guilt ridden when we took any to the pound, but we just couldn't keep them all. Don't think I didn't try. The animals that we purposefully adopted all seemed to get killed.....living on a major highway doesn't help the cause. Foxes got our ducks and chicks, hunters shot some of our dogs, and the highway lay claim to a few of them too. One or two just disappeared. We were never without an animal, whether it canine, feline, bovine, equine or swine. We had everything at one time or the other. At the time I brought the Cocker home, we had only cats.

We kept her in the house for a while, but once she was old enough, she was relegated to a chain link pen, built by Mom and the brother. It was a big pen, not a typical run, and she had a large house, fresh water and lots of toys. I think, all in all, she lived a great life. She had a personality that was second to none.....always up for a tussle with us, plenty of love for a long nap with her humans, and always just content to be with her humans. When I moved to Knoxville, and bought my house there, I took her with me. I was working nights, she had to stay crated a lot, and seemed unhappy. At the time I took her to live with me, she'd been living with Mom for several years. We finally realized after a time, that she was Mom's dog, and she missed Mom and her "home." She came back to SC with Mom.

I got a call one Sunday morning, in the Spring of Hoop's 12 th year. She'd developed a horrible cough, one that worried Mom enough to drive the hour to Columbia to the emergency vet clinic. She'd been previously diagnosed with tracheitis, an inflammation of her trachea, causing it to spasm and her to cough. Unbeknown to us that it was a misdiagnosis. I'd noticed that she had a heart murmur once when I was fooling around with my stethoscope and a big ole case of boredom, but thought nothing of it. When the vet at the pet ER checked her, he found her to be in Congestive Heart Failure, and a pretty advanced stage at that. Started her on some meds, diuretics, and sent her home. She just continued a downhill slide after that. Her regular vet saw her, and did what she could, but the fact was, Hoop was not getting better, and she was not comfortable.

Memorial Day weekend, 2006, and I had a friend visiting in Knox-land. We'd gone to the Aquarium of the Smokies and to sight see in Gatlinburg. While in the exhibit, I had no cell service, and once we got outside, I had 2 voice mails and several missed calls from Mom. She'd taken our girl to the vet, unable to catch her little breath and unable to stop coughing. Mom was calling, needing to make the decision, and not wanting to make it on her own. Our girl needed to cross the Rainbow Bridge. She couldn't get me, but our vet, Ann Hurst talked to Mom at length, and told her that Hoop was hurting and uncomfortable, but willing to suffer to stay with her humans. Ann told Mom that we could do what we needed to do, but the Hoopster wasn't going to get better. She and Mom helped the old girl across the bridge, peacefully.

It was so weird to come home, and not see that blonde mug smiling from the patio door when I pulled up. It was hard as hell to know she wasn't just at the groomers getting her hair did. It was painful, and still is. So you might ask....how do I have it in me to have 3 gorgeous Cockers now? Because she was where it started. The devotion to the breed, with all their quirks and their personalities. At the end of the day, when I get home, I have 3 mugs looking out at me from their crates. At night, I have 65 lbs of black and white and spots in my lap, giving Cocker kisses and scrambling for the closest place to me. I see the eyes, all chocolatey and dark looking at me, as if they know what I'm saying. And above it all, I have the unconditional love from 3 little furry beings who don't know any other life. Working with the rescue in Knoxville was eye opening, heart breaking, and so worth it. I gained 2 of mine from that experience, and I gained friends that I wouldn't trade for the world.

I've been there when fosters crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and the experience sliced my heart as though they were my own. It makes you want to hurt the people that hurt the animal to the point they can't be pets anymore. It makes you go home and grab your fuzzies and love 'em until they can't take anymore. And it makes you realize that you've been given or have accepted responsibility for a fuzzy heart, and you need to take it seriously. Would I trade my 3 in for anything? Nope. Would I trade the experience of the Hoopieness? Never. She started my love for the Cockers, and she'll be the reason that mine live better than I do.