Abbye and the new digs

Some of you have kindly inquired as to how Abbye is doing in her new surroundings. The short answer is an unqualified "OK."

We were concerned that moving into a new house would be stressful on her, and she doesn't handle stress well. So we were (and are) pleasantly surprised that the move itself hasn't seemed to affect her, health wise.

Of course, she lost all of her cues for finding things, and that's an ongoing problem. She's gotten pretty good at navigating the path between her crate in our bedroom (where she spends most of her time) and her water dish in our bathroom, and she can eventually find her way into the kitchen around meal time. But more often than not, she gets disoriented and has to be rescued from behind furniture, in corners, or down hallways.

In her defense, until we can completely clear the floor of unpacked boxes and unhanged (is that a word?) paintings, her wanderings will be unavoidably complicated.

On the other hand, some of Abbye's disorientation is no doubt due to a slow-but-steady decline in her overall condition. She's lived for more than two years now with Cushing's Disease and the diabetes that blinded her, and our vet's best guess is that she's about fourteen years old. She could well have a few more years of life ahead of her, but odds are that she doesn't. In addition to being blind, we think her hearing is worsening, and even her sense of smell doesn't seem to be as sharp as it was only a few months ago.

Still, she gets out for a daily walk in the morning, and a shorter one in the evening if it's not too hot, and she knows well when she's due her quota of treats. Losing her eyesight was even a blessing in a strange way, as she's much calmer now that she's no longer got a hair trigger when it comes to being startled by things like blowing leaves. And the daily dose of glucosamine has worked wonders for her arthritis.

I guess you could say that for a dog that's as sick as she is, she's in remarkably good health. We should all be so fortunate.

Cool Canine

Sometimes I think that Abbye was born in the wrong state:

Her hatred of falling precipitation is well documented, but she apparently has no qualms about roosting in the frozen variety.

She was rather less content with the big towel greeting she got when she finally decided to come back inside.

Introducing: Bandit

Meet Abbye's new cousin, Bandit:

Bandit's a "dachshuahua" (you can figure that out, can't you?) and he's a few months old now, in that puppy stage where he's either going a hundred miles an hour or is completely unconscious. He belongs to (or, to be more accurate, owns; you can probably figure that out, too) my brother and his wife, who lost their last little dog earlier this summer to a rattlesnake bite. That dog was quite a personality, but Bandit is going to give him a run for his money in that department.

Abbye's not terribly impressed, by the way. Bandit enjoys carrying out sneak attacks (having not yet figured out that any attack on a blind dog falls into that category), and Abbye's reflexes aren't quite fast enough for effective paw-swipe retaliation. But they still get along pretty well.

Being Abbye's Owner

Julie drew a cartoon illustrating a story emailed to her, and I can relate to it very well.

The people in our neighborhood who know Abbye by name outnumber those who know me by name approximately 10-to-1, I'd guess.

I generally rate a nod, perhaps a smile or a "how's it going?" on a good day, while Abbye's adoring public falls all over itself to gush over her.

A dentist who lives in our neighborhood and whose commute coincides with our morning walk recently told me, "you know, I need to stop someday and visit with Abbye. She's the most loved dog in the city." Seriously. I don't even know what that means.

Drivers slow down to stare (and smile) at the little fur-ball doing the imitation of a live pull-toy. I'll bet if you were to ask them five minutes later to describe the person on the other end of the leash, they'd say something like..."um...person?"

If I ever decide to switch from building websites to robbing banks to make a living (and in the process regaining my respectability), I'm taking Abbye along on the heists. I'd sail through every line-up.

Here's the ironic thing: Abbye couldn't care less. She's so much like a cat in that regard. You can fawn over her all you like and she won't give you the time of day. People chalk it up to her blindness, but I know she's just being a prima donna. But, you know, nobody listens to me. Nobody.

Unamused Abbye

I was toiling away at the pixel factory when I noticed that Abbye was heading for the back door, so I carried her into the back yard and went back to work. She normally roams around the yard for a while, and, depending on the weather, lays down to decipher the scents and sounds of the neighborhood.

Some time later, I caught a movement on the porch and saw that she'd made her way back to the door. She was also soaked.

What I'd failed to notice is that drizzle had begun to fall. Abbye had gotten disoriented and wandered around in the rain until she stumbled onto the porch.

She was not a happy camper, to say the least, and then she had to endure the humiliation of The Big Towel's invasion of all of her personal spaces.

I'm pretty sure I'm being given the cold shoulder treatment now. This is going to cost me when it comes time for the after-lunch liver treats.

[Under the] Bed Head

Being blind, Abbye is not particularly concerned about whether she makes it completely under the bed before taking a nap:

This is actually a more flattering pose than usual, as in this case it's her head that didn't make it all the way under.

Abbyeliciousness

Because everybody needs some cute dog pics every now and then...

Abbye: Nanook of the North

I mentioned yesterday that Abbye's reaction to snow is somewhat surprising, particularly in light of her normal sissified behavior in other meteorological conditions (wind, rain, thunder, etc.).

When we awoke Wednesday to a thin blanket of snow, she dutifully trucked out into the backyard per her usual routine, and having completed her business, did this:

Then, as if sitting in snow wasn't evidence enough of her disdain for the conditions, she did this:

She appeared quite content to recline indefinitely and I had to issue a stern order to get her back inside. I assume that her fur is so thick that she was simply enjoying a cool interlude. (I do wonder if she has a visual recollection of snow, now that she can no longer see it.)

The downside for her was that she was greeted at the door with the Big Brown Towel. As you might guess, she reacted to the drying off process as if I was actually skinning her alive in order to remove the ice that was clotted in her fur. Now, that's the Abbye we know and love.

Christmas Report, Installment 1

I won't bore you with a whole slew of Christmas photos, even though our families are quite photogenic, as I'm sure you've surmised. But here are a couple of pictures from our time in Fort Stockton.

Caution: Fashionistas at Work

First, the weather on Christmas eve was pleasant enough to permit a bit of gunplay. Lest you think that we're completely uncivilized and uncouth, please note the origin of the paper bag we used to collect the used brass and empty ammo boxes...

PetSmart, Eat Your Heart Out

Second, I assume that you've seen that cute PetSmart commercial featuring the dachshund who loved his real toy. That one was staged. We got the real thing.

That's my mother holding one of her granddogs, Peanut, who was so proud of his Christmas present that we didn't think he would ever let go of it.

Our Christmas was quite pleasant -- lots of good food, cool gifts, happy families -- a time of exceeding joy and peace. Um, well, except for that plumbing thing...

Shooting the Dog

I had to take a few minutes and attend to the second most distasteful chore of the day, giving Abbye her insulin shot. (The most distasteful is a tie: giving her the morning shot.) Most of you know that she was diagnosed as diabetic earlier this year, and that she's now blind as a result.

The good news is that she seems to be feeling very well, and she's gained back all the weight she lost, and grown back all the hair she lost.

But she hates those shots with a passion...and she's already a little drama queen to begin with. Her pitiful whimpering and twitching may be her way of ensuring that the post-shot treats are plentiful and delicious -- and it's a strategy that pays off without fail. She's got us trained pretty well.

I have no idea why she's so cockeyed in this photo. I guess she was in the middle of a one-eyed blink.

Abbye Update

I've had a couple of folks ask for an update on Abbye, and since that represents a significant proportion of my readership, I figure I'd better oblige.

Abbye's still got Cushing's Disease, diabetes, and arthritis and she's still blind, but other than that, she's doing pretty well. We should all be so fortunate.

She's got as much energy as she ever had, and we're still doing her twice daily walks around the neighborhood. Her hair is coming back in quickly and thickly, although it appears that she may be mutating into a beaver, since her tail is, well, flat. I'm sure that's just an interim situation until the hair gets long enough to make her resemble another species. At least we hope so. We'd really prefer not to have a dog who goes around slapping the floor with her tail whenever she wants something.

She's also got her appetite back, which is a good thing for a dog getting two insulin shots each day. However, in order to keep her interested in food (she's always been a picky eater, at least as far as dogfood is concerned), MLB has stocked up on three kinds of dog food (two dry, one canned) and keeps a bag of chicken tenders in the fridge to prime the pump, or the pup, as the case may be. Occasionally, she'll have all three kinds of food in her bowl, because we never know what she'll be willing to eat. Did I mention the scrambled eggs?

The shots are still an adventure. Abbye has always been a drama queen, so even though the needles are about the width of a human hair, she manages to unleash a blood-curdling yelp about half the time. Mind you, the yelp sometimes comes before the needle stick, which tends to minimize the amount of sympathy she gets. Of course, she might also be recalling very early when we were still trying to get the hang of things, and MLB was holding her while I gave the shot, and it turned out that she was immobilizing her to the point of where she, well, couldn't breathe.

The blindness has required the biggest adjustment, as you might imagine. She's fine in the house or in the backyard, but taking her for a walk requires constant attention to make sure she's not walking into anything or falling off the curb. We also need to make sure she's OK around other dogs and people.

We're trying to use a system to alert her to step onto or off curbs, using a combination of verbal commands and tugs on the leash (she hates leash tugs). She's catching on, but it's sometimes a bit comical, in sort of a sad way. If we're a bit early with the "up" command, she starts high-stepping -- goose-stepping, really, like...um, you know.

Seriously, though, we're pretty relieved that she's doing so much better than a few months ago. The vet is still trying to get a good handle on the right insulin levels, but we knew that would be a long process. The main thing is that her quality of life is good, and there's no reason why she shouldn't have a few good years ahead of her.

Abbye Update

Just a quick update. As far as the vets can tell, Abbye's diabetes is not a function of the Cushing's Disease, meaning that we'll need to continue to treat the two ailments separately. She's been going in every morning and spending the day at the clinic while they try to determine the proper insulin dosage. It looks like we'll be giving her two shots a day, from now on. And, sadly, her vision is not improving. Unless a miracle occurs, we and Abbye will have to adjust to her living without eyesight.

We're all very grateful for the many expressions of concern and caring, and I'll let you know if anything changes.

Abbye Update: The Hits Keep Coming

I apologize for the lack of positive posts lately. I really would like to write about less consequential or more uplifting things but life isn't always like that. I'm sure you understand. What I do know is that this too will pass, so don't give up!

Well, there's no easy way to put it so I'll just lay it out: Abbye is blind, probably as a result of diabetes. The shocking thing is how quickly it came on, although we've suspected a tendency toward diabetes for a couple of months, based on her weight loss and copious water consumption. The blood tests weren't out of line, however, and so there was nothing to do but monitor her.

She apparently took a turn for the worse while we were on vacation (isn't that how it usually happens?). She spent all day yesterday at the vet clinic where they could administer insulin and monitor her reaction, and she's there now, to repeat the process. The good news is that she responded well and by the end of yesterday her blood sugar was in the normal range.

We don't know if she's got a full-blown case of diabetes, or if it's actually a temporary condition caused by the Cushing's Disease. Her quick response to the insulin yesterday seems to favor the latter diagnosis, in which case she could well regain normal pancreatic function and, hopefully, her eyesight.

Right now, she seems to be able to distinguish light and shadow. It's very difficult to determine the degree of blindness in a dog, particularly when it's in a known environment like its home. Abbye's especially hard to read, as she's so cautious in her movements anyway; she doesn't play with toys or romp through the yard or the house, and so we don't have that baseline to measure against. However, she stumbles over curbs and steps and occasionally will turn too soon and brush a doorway before going through it. We also set up a simple obstacle course at the vet clinic yesterday and she had trouble navigating it, following the sound of my voice.

On the positive side, she seems to be feeling well, all things considered, and is still eating and drinking. Her hair is beginning to reappear, although it'll be a long time before she's got a full coat back. Our primary hope is that the blindness and the diabetic indicators are temporary. We've had a diabetic and blind dog in the past, and it did not turn out well. Abbye deserves better.

I don't plan on giving daily blow-by-blow updates on this, but I will let you know if anything significant happens. Thanks in advance for caring about the little dog.

Newsflash: Man Bytes Dog!

Five new photos have just been inserted into the "Many Moods of Abbye" rotation. I figure a couple of hours of clicking the reload button ought to be sufficient to see them all via the random display. Well, you could try to hack the URL, but what's the fun in that?

Abbye Update

Abbye's treatment for Cushing's Disease has gone well, I'm pleased to report. She was taking lysodren daily up until last week, when a blood test revealed that the adrenal suppression was working and a lower dosage was called for.

Um, perhaps I should back up a bit. As you may or may not recall, Cushing's is a malady where the adrenal glands produce too much cortisol, which has all kinds of unpleasant physical effects. Cushing's is most often caused by tumors on either the adrenal or pituitary glands.

In Abbye's case, an MRI ruled out any tumors, which was mostly good news except it left us not knowing the cause. But it also made it easy to decide to address the primary symptom: the overactive adrenal glands. The most common treatement for this is a drug called lysodren, which is used primarily in human chemotherapy. It's an adrenal suppressant, very powerful with some scary side effects. Too little and it's ineffective; too much and it can destroy the adrenal glands and kill the patient.

Our vet made the right call with the initial dosage, however. After a week on lysodren, Abbye's cortisol levels had come back near the normal range. We've reduced the dosage to twice weekly, and are awaiting the results of another blood test which we hope will show a completely normal reading. The icing on the cake is that she -- the one who has historically managed to exhibit every known bad side effect of every known medication -- experienced none of the problems generally associated with lysodren. That was a miracle in and of itself.

She's obviously feeling better. Her limp -- which I'm not sure I ever wrote about -- is gone and we're back on our regular walk schedule. She's still a bit slower paced than usual, especially in the afternoon...but, then, aren't we all? I sometimes forget that she's going on twelve years old, and some slowdown is natural.

She's still not eating at pre-diagnosis levels, and has lost a couple of pounds, although I might be so ungentlemanly as to suggest that she probably can afford them. But she doesn't turn up her nose at regular offerings of scrambled eggs and lunch meat, so we're not too worried.

The biggest annoyance is that she's still drinking a lot more water than normal, which wouldn't be a problem except that what goes in must come out and she's getting up 2-3 times every night to go outside. That also wouldn't be a problem except that we don't have a doggie-door and one of us has to act as a doorman. Or, doorwoman as it happens to work out (I'm apparently a very sound sleeper...I've yet to be awakened by a piercing canine stare, something my wife in her infinitely greater sensitivity cannot claim).

So, there you have it...a complete update on our dog's recent medical history. Did I mention the almost $1,000 we've spent to get to this point? Of course I haven't; that, too, would be unchivalrous.

Abbye Update: A little good news

There's a simple reason why most doctors won't even attempt to read an x-ray or similar scan, instead waiting for the radiologist to apply his or her expertise to the output. That reason? They're not always right, as we've just learned from the official results of Abbye's ultrasound scan last Tuesday.

There's no pituitary tumor, nor is there an adrenal tumor. There's nothing wrong with her gall bladder. What we're dealing with is simply (?) a pituitary gland that's overstimulating the adrenal glands, leading to an overproduction of cortisol. And while it's not clear what's causing that overstimulation, it is apparently a manageable situation via medication.

Another blood test is needed to establish a baseline, and then we can start her on the medicine that, by all accounts, is very effective in erasing the symptoms she's experiencing. That's not to say we're out of the woods; the dosage of the medication is tricky, and the proper level is a matter of trial and error.

But, at least we know what we're not dealing with, and we're quite happy to make that report.

Muchas gracias for your prayers and best wishes for la perrita. It's nice to know that the light at the end of the tunnel isn't an oncoming train!

Abbye Update

Abbye survived the night without food and water, although we weren't sure that we would. A couple of times we awoke with the disturbing feeling that we were being watched. Sure enough, Abbye was sitting on the floor, in the dark, and glaring at us as if she could will us to get up and attend to her needs. It almost worked. In fact, I woke up once feeling really thirsty and couldn't bring myself to go to the kitchen to get a drink, out of guilt.

Anyway, she had the ultrasound today and the preliminary results are mixed. She appears to have a tumor, but it's on the pituitary gland and not the adrenal as we expected. In addition, the vet said that her gall bladder looked "sludgy" (which, believe it or not, appears to be a legitimate medical term of art; in a human, it indicates a gall bladder filled with stones...we're not sure what the canine application entails).

Until we visit with Abbye's regular vet, after he gets the final interpretation of the scan results, we won't know the treatment options. But some quick research on the 'net indicates that surgery to remove pituitary tumors is extremely rare; it's just too delicate and complicated. They may be treated with radiation, if they're really big. But the other apparent option is to not do anything for the pituitary itself and instead treat the adrenal symptoms which are being caused by the former gland.

As for the gall bladder, it may be treatable via medication.

So, while we know a bit more, we still have more questions than answers, but those answers may be just around the corner. We appreciate very much all the expressions of concern and caring for the little dog, who is really enduring more than she deserves, but is doing so with her usual stoic grace. If it was me, I'd be a whining mass of self-pity; thank goodness dogs are wired differently. But, of course, that makes it all the more difficult to watch them suffer.

We'll let you know what happens next.

If dogs could sue...

...Abbye would be calling a lawyer right now. She thinks we're guilty of the worse kind of abuse.

Let me back up. Now that we've gotten a firm diagnosis of Cushing's Disease, and have determined that it's being caused by tumor on either her adrenal or pituitary glands, the next step is to pinpoint the placement of the tumor(s), as that will determine the course of treatment. So, she was scheduled for an ultrasound scan today at a clinic in Odessa, apparently the only one in the area with the necessary equipment. We drove over and appeared a bit early, in case there was any paperwork, and were met by the receptionist with this question:

"So, has the pet been fasting?"

"Just a minute, please." She disappears into the back recesses of the building, but we know what's coming.

In a few minutes, the doctor appears and escorts us into a waiting room where she explains that there was apparently a communications snafu between us and our vet, who set up the appointment. It seems that the ultrasound is extremely sensitive to air, and the presence of air (gas) will prevent a clear reading. Since a dog's adrenal glands are located in close proximity to the colon (I didn't know that, by the way), it's imperative that the gut be, well, gas-free, hence the requirement for a 24-hour fast prior to the scan...a requirement of which we were not aware.

So, starting at around 4:00 this afternoon, Abbye's food dish has been hidden away, and she's come up empty-pawed in terms of post-dinner treats. She is not amused.

It's not like she's going to waste away to nothing...she has plenty of reserves stored. But, of course, she doesn't understand that. What she does understand is that we're the worst people in the world and if she could dial a phone, the SPCA would be banging on our door at this very moment, presumably bearing a court summons for us and a pork roast for her.

She's really going to be upset when we take up her water dish at 11:00 p.m.

Technorati tags: Cushing's Disease in dogs

Abbye Diagnosed

After more than a year of searching for an explanation of Abbye's gradual hair loss, dulling of her coat, discolored skin and other less obvious symptoms, it appears we may finally have an answer. According to the results of a just-completed blood test, she is suffering from Cushing's Syndrome, a condition that results from an excess of cortisol (also known as hydrocortisone), a hormone produced by the adrenal glands.

Our next step is to figure out what's causing the disease. The most common causes of this hyperadrenocorticism are normally-benign tumors of either the adrenal or pituitary glands. There's another blood test that is used to distinguish between the two; Abbye's scheduled for that on Monday.

The presence of a tumor doesn't necessarily mean that surgery will be required. There are some alternative non-invasive treatments. The prognosis is uncertain, however. Everything we can find so far is primarily anecdotal; there haven't been any rigorous studies of how Cushing's plays out in dogs over time.

We certainly want to see Abbye's physical symptoms improve, but I can't help thinking that some of her behaviors -- which up to now we've joked about as simply eccentricities -- may also stem from this disorder. A malfunctioning adrenal gland has some definite psychological implications, which may explain her irrational fear of just about everything.

We're far from fully understanding what's going on, but it's a big step in the right direction, I think. Stay tuned...

Here are some links we've found helpful:

• VetInfo.com
• Patient Information (geared toward humans, but provides good background)
• Wikipedia's entry on cortisol

Technorati tags: Cushing's Disease in dogs | Cortisol | Hydrocortisone

New Abbye Photos!

I think that says it all.

Happy clicking!

Abbye Update #814

Abbye seems to be returning to her normal state: lazy, pampered, spoiled beyond belief. However, I suspect that she's also a lot more suspicious of trips in the car, seeing as how the last two have resulted in close to ten needle sticks.

We returned to Midland yesterday morning, just in time for me to drop MLB and Abbye off at the vet's office while I went home and unloaded the car. Abbye got injections of antibiotic (a new and apparently tolerable variation) and anti-nausea (also a new concoction) as well as subcutaneous injections of fluids to treat mild dehydration. She did fine the rest of the day, although some strange behavior at 3:00 a.m. interrupted our sleep (it turned out to be nothing of significance).

MLB took her back this morning at 8:00 for more injections and fluids, and she's been what passes for normal around here ever since...other than her adamant refusal to go outside because of the leaves of death. (We shall not speak of the resulting spot on the living room rug.)

I'm to take her for one final appointment in the morning, at which time I hope the vet will release her to a normal diet, as she's been quite surly at not receiving her proper quota of puppy biscuits.

By the way, she wishes to extend her warm thanks to each of you who have been so kindly solicitous of her health and well-being, and she has asked me to alert you to the fact that you may receive a summons to appear at the upcoming civil trial in which she plans to sue me for violating her right to privacy under HIPAA. Such is life with a canine primadonna. But I'm sure we'll be able to settle out of court. We always have.

Abbye Watch: The Roller Coaster Ride Continues

Abbye did not have a good Thanksgiving evening. First, she suffered the indignity of my cramming a pill down her throat when she refused to accept it wrapped in even the tastiest of morsels. Then she had another bout of throwing up, making us despair that we were making any progress on her recovery. To make matters worse, we were unable to get another antibiotic tablet down her before bedtime.

When we awoke this morning, she just laid in her crate, eyes half-closed, refusing to even acknowledge our presence. We began to discuss potential options, one of which was to hurry her back to Midland and leave her with the vet for continual monitoring. How bad did things seem? MLB had tears in her eyes as she said "I just can't bear the thought of her dying over there by herself." I had no good words of comfort.

We decided to go for a run, hoping that the cold air and exertion would help us focus on what needed to be done. When we finished, she kept going a few more blocks while I went in the house to check on Abbye...who, by that time, had apparently decided that the joke had gone far enough and was trotting around the house looking for a handout of leftover turkey. I put her on the leash and we set out to meet MLB. Abbye was as animated and alert as she was before all this started.

So, we've gone from cutting our trip short to return her to the vet in the hope that he might somehow save her life, to MLB going shopping with my mother and our niece. Abbye's now asleep in her crate, which is her normal mode this time of day. And we've decided that the antibiotic was actually making her sicker instead of healing her. She's had adverse reactions to antibiotics in the past. As it turns out, her refusal to take one last night was probably the key to the apparent turning of the corner.

And, as far as why she refused to acknowledge our presence this morning, I think it was her way of expressing her absolute disgust with the lack of respect accorded to her yesterday evening when I manhandled that pill down her throat. Let that be a lesson to me.

Doggy Doldrums

The forecast calls for monsoonal miasma, with occasional breaks for apathy and doldrums.

We have a sick dog, just in time for the holidays. Abbye's been throwing up everything she's chowing down -- which hasn't been much -- for a couple of days, so she went to the vet today and we're awaiting results from a blood test. She's running a slight fever and has slightly jaundiced eyes, possibly indicating a liver inflammation. She got five injections -- a B12 shot, an antibiotic and three injections of fluids for dehydration. She's not a happy camper, so neither are we. The bright spot is that she's on a doctor-prescribed diet of Gerber's baby food (smushed chicken; mooshed beef; etc.), and she does think that's pretty good stuff...and so far, it's been staying with her. But, it looks like no turkey for her this week, unless it's the gelled variety.

Gimpy Dog? Maybe it just needs some "Hip Action"

Ever since Abbye's near fatal encounter with Rimadyl, an oft-prescribed canine anti-inflammatory and pain medication, we've been giving her a daily "serving" of something called "Hip Action," manufactured and sold by a Colorado company named Zuke's. This is essentially a dose of glucosamine and chondroitin, similar to what you may be taking for arthritis or other kinds of joint pain. (In fact, both I and MLB have been taking glucosamine on a daily basis for years.) And I have to admit that Abbye has responded remarkably well to it.

Even though we knew we would never again be able to give her Rimadyl on a regular basis, the vet said it would be fine to treat her with it if she experienced an acute flare-up of pain. She's been on Hip Action for about six months, and we have not had to resort to Rimadyl...or any other kind of pain meds, for that matter. In fact, she seems to have more energy now than she's had in years, and others have commented on that fact.

The last time we ordered a new supply, the company sent some additional samples in a different flavor, and my wife gave them to a co-worker who has two large dogs, both of which have chronic joint pain and/or hip problems. The co-worker is also reporting good results.

I have to admit that while I'm usually skeptical about the claims of nutritional supplements, my daily glucosamine would be the last one I'd be willing to part with. I don't know how it works, or why, but I can tell you that I'm able to run pain-free for as many days in a row as I want, and I never thought I'd be able to do that again, due to knee problems. I'm sure there's quite a bit of similar anecdotal evidence floating around, even as I'm sure that just as many people have tried it without seeing any benefit whatsoever.

The point is that if you have a dog with hip or joint pain, I recommend trying Hip Action to see if it makes a difference. It's the least you can do for your best friend, right?

And I probably should mention that Abbye really, really likes the taste. She certainly doesn't realize that it's medicine!

Technorati tag: Zuke's Hip Action

#*^#%@ Rain!

(We desert dwellers can be exceedingly mercurial when it comes to our weather tolerances.)

We've had another inch of rain since dawn...or what passed for dawn in our cloud-laden skies. Despite the post title, I'm not complaining, but Abbye is. Her ombrophobia has been well-documented on these pages so I'll not reprise those eccentricities. Suffice it to say that thus far this morning I've (a) carried her two blocks back home under an umbrella after an aborted attempt to make it to the park during a lull in the rain and (b) driven her to the park during another short-lived lull.

To her credit, during (b) and even while the rain began to fall again, she attended to business -- and quickly, I might add -- and raced back to the truck.

We all feel much better now.

Telepathic Failures

Abbye was inexplicably restless last night. As MLB and I sat in the living room -- she with notebook (binder) in lap, studying, and I with notebook (computer) in lap, coding -- Abbye did her best to get our attention.

She sat in front of each of us and stared. She walked over to her Big Pillow and laid down for a few seconds, generally facing me, glaring with upcast, accusing eyes. She moved into the game room, next to my computer desk, and sat. She went in and out of the kitchen, drinking copious amounts of water. She lay on the rug next to the bookcase, facing away from us. She sat in the doorway leading to the bedroom and laundry room. In short, she was a nervous wreck, for no discernible reason.

We did our best to interpret her signals. Did she want to go outside? No. Did she want more food? No. Did she want to jump up next to us and get scratches and act like a real dog? Emphatically, no. Had Timmy fallen into the well (again) and needed rescuing? Probably, but that wasn't relevant at this point.

Finally, MLB got up to get something from the bedroom and discovered the reason for the strange behavior. The bedroom door had swung shut! It stood between Abbye and her crate!! It was past her bedtime!!! The world as she knew it would soon end!!!!

MLB opened the door and Abbye was through it faster than Michael Moore on a 6" meatball sub. We didn't see her the rest of the night. I'm sure she was casting evil thoughts our direction from the safety of her crate, but, of course, we missed them.

Have you ever known a dog so non-assertive as to be unwilling to push a door with its nose or scratch at it, even when faced with a life-and-death situation?

Jedi Bites

Another "Awwwww" Moment

Abbye is happiest when she's standing in the kitchen, looking up at someone whose hands are hovering in the proximity of the treat jars. Exhibit A...

We'll thank you not to mention her slightly crossed eyes.

Your questions answered.

Gazette reader, blogger and pledger (thanks!) Denise sends questions in from the Metroplex: "What breed of dog is Abbye and how old is she? And how long have you had her?"

Abbye has authorized me to make the following statement on her behalf:

Abbye is a bit testy, as her traditional Saturday morning ham and eggs were somewhat on the cold side.

But, she's off pouting somewhere now, so I can quickly inform you that she is of, um, indeterminate ethnicity. The vet thinks she's part long-haired dachshund and we think she's part Welsh Corgi. A lot of people mistake her for a pomeranian (which annoys her to no end). We cannot explain her webbed toes and black-spotted tongue, however.

As to age, again, we're not sure; she's a shelter dog and we think she was about a year old when we got her. She weighed just over half of what she does now and was apparently accustomed to eating insects to survive. We've had her for about eight years, and she's doing much better now, thank you.

I just hope she doesn't find out I posted this.

Your questions answered.

Gazette reader, blogger and pledger (thanks!) Denise sends questions in from the Metroplex: "What breed of dog is Abbye and how old is she? And how long have you had her?"

Abbye has authorized me to make the following statement on her behalf:

Abbye is a bit testy, as her traditional Saturday morning ham and eggs were somewhat on the cold side.

But, she's off pouting somewhere now, so I can quickly inform you that she is of, um, indeterminate ethnicity. The vet thinks she's part long-haired dachshund and we think she's part Welsh Corgi. A lot of people mistake her for a pomeranian (which annoys her to no end). We cannot explain her webbed toes and black-spotted tongue, however.

As to age, again, we're not sure; she's a shelter dog and we think she was about a year old when we got her. She weighed just over half of what she does now and was apparently accustomed to eating insects to survive. We've had her for about eight years, and she's doing much better now, thank you.

I just hope she doesn't find out I posted this.

You knew it was coming...

Abbye Update #3: Good news

I hope this is the last health-related post I have to do for Abbye for a long time. Today's blood test revealed that her liver enzymes have dropped to 45; a normal reading is under 100, and the initial test two weeks ago had her pegged at a scary 668.

It seems obvious now that the Rimadyl was indeed the culprit; if your dog is on a steady regimen of Rimadyl for arthritis pain, make sure that the animal is getting regular blood tests to monitor its liver enzyme level. If your vet doesn't agree...consider finding another vet. Seriously.

Her white blood count is still a little elevated, but not to the point of concern. It's always been on the high side...one of her many peculiarities. We're going to keep her on antibiotics for another ten days, and she can go back on her thyroid medicine, which we hope will get her appetite and coat back in shape. But she seems to be feeling good -- practically frisky -- so that's one less thing we have to worry about.

And I do appreciate all the expressions of concern and good wishes left here for our little dog. You guys are great!

Abbye Update #2

(I just realized that I don't have a category for posts about Abbye. I probably should correct that. Someday.)

I've been remiss in providing the promised reports on Abbye's condition, because I know at least two (maybe three) of you really care. In a nutshell, she's doing better, although she's had something of a relapse today.

We've had her on antibiotics for 8 days now, and she's completely off Rimadyl (the arthritis pain medicine). She's also supposed to be taking vitamin E every day, but she balks at that. All of these things are intended to help bring her liver enzymes back into the normal range. She goes back to the vet for a blood test on Monday, at which time we'll find out if they're working.

Until today, she's seemed more energetic and hasn't had any of the symptoms that clued us into the liver enzyme problem to begin with. So that's good. But today, she's dragging around like everything hurts...we could hardly coax her out of her crate this evening for after-dinner treats (laced with antibiotic, of course).

Abbye is the pickiest pill-taker in the canine world. You can imbed a tiny pill deep in a piece of steak and she'll mouth it around until she swallows the steak and spits out the pill. It reminds me of that cartoon bit where the guy lays a cigarette paper flat on his tongue, pours a heap of tobacco onto it, pulls it into his mouth then pops out a neatly rolled cigarette ready for ignition.

We've found one technique to thwart her pill-avoidance system, however. It requires careful planning and the execution must be flawless, but when it works, it's a thing of beauty. The key is to get her into a rhythm of eating succulent morsels. She's always suspicious of the first one, so it's important to make it undoctored and then to have two more treats ready in quick succession. The first one primes the pump, the second one delivers the payload and the third one is presented to her as an incentive to down the second one without worrying it too much.

Sheesh. I can't believe I just wrote that, or that we have to resort to such tomfoolery. Such is life with a canine princess.

Abbye Update

Abbye is getting decidely annoyed with these frequent visits to the vet's office. She objects, in particular, to the highly personal methods used to check her temperature...which, by the way, show that she's still running a lowgrade fever.

However, things are looking up. The medicine got her nausea under control, so she can eat and drink again. She now begins a protocol of antibiotics and Vitamin E to get the apparent bacterial infection under control and bring her liver enzymes back into the normal range.

Most importantly, we may have identified the culprit that's caused the liver spike: the every-other-day dose of Rimadyl she gets to control pain from arthritis. The vet said that 10-15% of the dogs who take Rimadyl end up having to leave it due to stomach and/or liver problems. The only odd thing about this is that Abbye is normally not part of such a large minority. It's usually something along the lines of, "I've never seen any dog react in that way to this medicine!"

Of course, we want the liver problems fixed, but if it is the Rimadyl, we're then faced with a different but just as vexing problem: pain control. I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Sick dog

I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but Abbye suffers from chronic canine Ehrlichiosis, a tick-borne disease similar to Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. We suspect that she contracted it as a pup, before she came to us, as we believe she was out on her own for a while before the Humane Society found her.

She gets an annual blood test for the condition, and she continues to test positive. The treatment is a round of antibiotics that are effective in suppressing the symptoms for about a year, at which time another test may indicate that the organism that causes the disease has been snuffed. Unfortunately, that hasn't been the case with Abbye, and may never be.

Anyway, we're approaching the one year anniversary of the last round of antibiotics and she's starting to show symptoms again. The blood test confirmed that she's still got the Ehrlichiosis, but she's also got some significantly elevated liver enzymes which has the vet a bit concerned.

Obviously, we're concerned too. She threw up about eight times over the weekend (that's always been the first obvious symptom), shows little interest in food but is drinking water to excess (diabetes has been ruled out, btw). Her coat is also thinning out. But the most telling sign that she doesn't feel good is that she wants to sit in my lap while I'm working, and if there's one thing Abbye is not, it's a lap dog.

The vet has a plan laid out, but it's not something that will show results or even a diagnosis in just a few hours. When your dog doesn't feel good, nothing feels good, especially when you're not sure about the problem or the cure.

While we're not yet at the point of worry, let's say we've slipped over the edge of anxiousness. Knowing how some of you feel about Abbye, I'll be sure to keep you posted on her progress.

Ombrophobic Canine

Today was the fourth consecutive rainy day in Midland. I know that doesn't sound like much to some of you, but this is the desert, folks, and we're more accustomed to measuring rainfall in terms of consecutive minutes rather than days.

If you talk to any real west Texan, they'll be ambivalent about a situation like this. We need the rain; we always need the rain. Nobody will seriously speak out against the rain. But, deep in our heart of hearts, we know that four straight days of rain is just too dang much. We also need the sunshine.

Still, in our household, the one who suffers most from this climatological situation is Abbye, the dog-like creature who shows up at mealtime but rarely any other. You see, Abbye is deeply ombrophobic. She hates being rained on. In her doggy little mind, those aren't just drops of water...they're radioactive knives coated with arsenic and acid.

The practical implication is no laughing matter: she will not venture outside to, um, do her business if there is actual rain actively dropping from the sky. She'd rather live with all four legs crossed than risk a precipitation-marred trip to the backyard. And just forget about walking down to the park in the drizzle.

I've taken her out in the drizzle before, forcing her outside before she literally explodes. After being dragged three blocks to the park, she'll take care of business -- after all, she's already wet -- but then she'll just sit down in the middle of the sidewalk and glare at me, her wet ears hanging from her head like weird forelocks. If I concentrate, I can hear her plotting the call to the SPCA in which she'll accuse me of abuse beyond belief.

The ironic thing is that Abbye is, by all indications, a water dog. She's got webbed toes and her undercoat is not unlike a duck's; I'm not sure her skin ever gets wet. She'll slog through standing water without flinching. It's those tiny drops of death from above that she just can't tolerate.

Fortunately for both of us, it appears that the rain is starting to clear out. For most of us in this part of the country, the thinking is that the next drought has now begun. For Abbye, it's just a brief respite before the next killing rain appears.

More Abbye Pics (If You're Lucky!)

I've added four new Abbye photos to the display at right. These images are from her early period, when she was still sorting out just who, exactly, was in charge. (That question was answered quite some time ago, by the way.)

Of course, since the photos are displayed in random fashion, you've got a 1-in-26 chance of seeing a new one. So keep hitting that reload button!

A Tale of Two Abbyes

I think I may have mentioned previously that our little dog is easily spooked. Well, that's putting it mildly. If the wind is blowing more than 10 mph, she will not go outside unless coerced, for fear that a rogue leaf will blow her direction, causing untold devastation.

Just today at lunch, I witnessed another display of her amazing lack of bravery. We had received a package via UPS and the contents were cushioned by the ubiquitous styrofoam peanuts. During the unpacking process, a sliver of styrofoam -- smaller than a baby aspirin -- escaped unnoticed onto the tile floor of our dining room. I finished my lunch and Abbye wandered in for her traditional post-meal treat (she doesn't beg; she just knows her due). I gave it to her, she scarfed it down, then turned her attention to her food bowl ("gack...dog food again! When will they ever learn?") and the surrounding floor.

She was nosing around when suddenly she yelped, jumped up in the air and ran to the other side of the room. I looked down, trying to find the cause of her consternation, and all I saw was the tiny piece of styrofoam. She re-approached it with the caution usually reserved for lighted sticks of dynamite and I realized what had happened.

She had gotten within a few inches of the styrofoam when static electricity caused the pellet to jump off the floor and directly onto her nose. I'm surprised that she didn't spend the rest of the day under the bed, lest she suffer another unprovoked attack.

But, to her credit, she's not always such a wuss. A while back, we were returning from our morning walk and were passing by our neighbor's yard just as his sprinkler system was coming on. There's a row of sprinkler heads next to the sidewalk, and as luck would have it, Abbye was next to one when the soft hissing occurred that presages the rush of water into the nozzle. I had just enough time to turn around, realize what was about to happen, and see her stick her nose into the hole from which the sprinkler head would emerge.

I waited for the inevitable clamor...and it never came! She was startled when the sprinkler head popped up into her face, but she didn't make a sound. She merely stepped back and continued down the sidewalk as if nothing had happened, although it was difficult to ignore her dripping muzzle and impossible to keep from laughing out loud at her apparent nonchalance.

El carnaval de los Perros

The Carnival of the Dogs is up. I didn't know there was such a thing, but there is, and Abbye is one of the featured canines, via this recent post about her.

I assume she's OK with this. Well, frankly, she couldn't care less; it's all quite beneath her. But, anyway, I appreciate Jay's nomination to El carnaval, and you are invited to pop over and see what other internet doggie denizens are up to. (Be forewarned: one of the links leads to a post with some salty language. Apparently, certain dogs are potty-mouths, and not just from being tempted to drink when the lid is up.)

Abbyeccentricity

Don't know if I've ever mentioned it before, but the doglike creature who co-habits our house and occasionally answers to the name of Abbye is the possessor of certain, um, behavioral quirks.

She's very suspicious of anything that appears to be wrong, where "wrong" may be defined as "anything she doesn't expect." For example, if one person opens the door so that she may proceed onto the back porch to survey her queendom, and a different person opens the door to let her back in...well, that bears investigation.

When this situation occurs, she'll pause in mid-amble for the briefest moment to touch her nose to the doorperson's leg, just to confirm that he or she is duly authorized to perform that menial task in her presence. If MLB lets her out, and I let her back in, I get the perfunctory leg-sniff. If I let her out and MLB lets her in, same thing.

Recently, I let her out AND back in, but I got the leg-sniff anyway. The reason? I had put on a ballcap after I let her out, and in her doggie little mind, I could now be an entirely different person because my head had taken on a different shape.

I can't imagine where she gets this. Is she afraid that Dr. Jekyll is letting her out, but Mr. Hyde may be waiting for her to come back in? Was she really paying attention when we watched "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" on TV?

I've been meaning to ask her about it, as soon as I can hide my ballcap.

Abbye Update

I'm happy to report that Abbye is doing fine today, apart from being sore in the shoulder area. She was a little slow out of her crate this morning, but the recuperative powers of a scrambled egg and a little bacon (for medicinal purposes only, of course) are amazing, and she even consented to a morning walk before we headed off to church.

I think we may have found one potential defense against the apparent epidemic in canine assaults. Of course, Abbye will have to gain about 30 pounds, but that's one area where she's never lacked motivation!

I toad you not to do that!

[Things are looking up, thanks to some herbal therapy. No, not that. I'm sipping a big mug of hot Kousmichoff Earl Grey Smoky tea (it comes in linen tea bags, you know...very civilized), and suddenly the world seems a lot more bloggable.

The Kusmi Earl Grey is the best I've found. Most EGs have too much Oil of Bergamot for my taste; this blend is very subtle, and it has a nice smoky flavor to boot. It's also hard to find, so I shepherd my stash very carefully.]

OK...just one more Abbye story.

The first night at our little Hill Country B&B, Abbye was in the yard being queen of all she surveyed. After a while, MLB peeked through the front door window and called for me to come see some unusual behavior on the part of our dog.

Abbye was staring intently into the flowerbed lining the sidewalk, occasionally pawing at something hidden from our sight. After about twenty seconds of observing this behavior, my curiosity got the best of me and I went outside to see what she was up to.

As soon as I stepped onto the porch, she grabbed something in her mouth (apparently as a defensive measure to ensure that I didn't get it first), and stepped up on the porch, intending to come inside.

MLB said "Does she have a stick in her mouth?" It was a good question, as something long and thin was protruding out from either side of her mouth. "Surely it's not a snake?!"

I didn't think so, but I yelled at her to drop it, which -- amazingly -- she did. She dropped a big fat toad onto the porch...a toad which she had taken headfirst into her mouth until only the hindlegs stuck out sideways like a fetched stick (which, by the way, she would never pick up!).

Here's the kicker: after she dropped the toad, she shook her head and scrunched up her face into a doggy expression of disgust...then attempted to pick it up again!

I called her off, sent her inside and helped the dazed lumpy amphibian back into the grass. We never saw it again, although Abbye searched for it each time she went outside thereafter. And we were reminded once again that we have an animal living with us.

Dog Snack: Close Call

Abbye got to meet her new neighbor yesterday afternoon, and found that she'd just as soon avoid the next such encounter.

Gabby is a 60 pound black labrador retriever who is normally kept in the backyard. As MLB, Abbye and I walked out the front door for our evening stroll, Gabby was running loose in the neighbor's front drive. Abbye and Gabby spotted each other simultaneously and met under one of our live oak trees, where the lab proceeded to pounce on Abbye with a snarl and gnaw on the back of her neck.

Needless to say, none of us were amused, Abbye least of all. MLB was screaming, Abbye was yelping, the neighbor came running and I grabbed the lab around the neck and pulled her off.

Fortunately, I was close and quick enough to prevent any damage, although we were all pretty shaken. I know people whose dogs have been killed in precisely that fashion. Abbye whimpered for a few seconds, but it may have been more of an empathetic response to the human reactions than any actual pain.

Our neighbor was horrified, and profusely apologetic. He had been testing his sprinkler system and was in and out of the backyard. Apparently he didn't get the gate completely shut on one trip, and Gabby made a break. She's slobberingly friendly around humans, but something about Abbye just set her off.

Actually, I think I came away with the most painful experience. Gabby had been barking a lot during the day, probably trying to get used to her new surroundings, and her owners had employed a shock collar to curb that tendency. I can assure you, based on what I felt as I pulled her back by her neck, that little gizmo works! It took me a second or two to realize why I was being jolted as I held the dog back.

All's well that ends well. We all calmed down (poor Gabby got a few punishing whacks from her master which I'm not sure she understood), and went on our walk. It wasn't long before Abbye was her usual self.

Of course, what was the first thing we encountered when we got to our neighborhood park? Yep...not one, but two black labs. Abbye wanted to greet them, but her people -- for some reason totally inexplicable to her -- steered her on a wide berth around them. Her role as a social butterfly will be somewhat curtailed from now on.

Leaves of Death

Please forgive the rather macabre post title. It's an allusion to our dog's reaction to this time of year. More in a moment.

First, though, we need to come up with a new term to describe this time of year, climatologically speaking. It's too early to be winter and it's too cold to be fall (at least for this part of the country). We could call it "pre-winter," but that's awfully clinical. "The cold season" sounds too much like a Ny-Quil commercial. "Late fall" is technically accurate, but isn't emotionally engaging. Abbye votes for "the season of death falling from above," but that's her private neurosis.

Whatever you call it, in my opinion Mother Nature got it just right this year. We had a hard freeze overnight, a killing freeze. That's good. There's nothing more annoying than having the first cold snap of the season be a tentative freeze, one that merely maims. When the first freeze is hard, you can make decisions, and stick to them. The lawn mower can be mothballed, and you can make a firm date with the leaf blower/sucker for a week hence, when the deciduous trees will be bare. Whatever has been producing that horrid pollen that's been triggering your allergies for the past month is satisfyingly dead or dying, and you'll have some relief on that front for a while. And, although the jury is still out on this one, the bitter cold might just persuade the flocks of Sonoran ravens which find our oak trees to be such hospitable toilet facilities to seek warmer environs.

Yes, when the first freeze is a hard one, we homeowners have reason to rejoice. But our dog becomes a nervous wreck.

Have I mentioned that Abbye has tendencies of timidity? Well, to say that she's timid is like saying that the Grand Canyon is a ditch. It's accurate without being meaningful.

Our dog's timidity is brought into full flower in the presence of tree-free leaves. In her tiny little mind, a leaf is nothing more than a Claymore, a Bouncing Betty, a MOAB; the lethalness varies only by delivery method. Leaves on the ground may explode with the least provocation. Leaves falling from trees are, simply, death from above. And windblown leaves are the worst, for you never know when and where they might strike.

As far as we know, Abbye has never been seriously injured in a leaf attack. But to her, every day that goes by without a fatal leaf incident is simply a day that brings her closer to one. And so, we enter the worst of all possible seasons for her, when leaves are dropping from trees like, well, leaves, and the winds are gusty, and a simple walk to the park and back is a night patrol on the Mekong Delta in 1967.

Think I'm exaggerating, do you? Well, just follow us at a distance some day. What you'll see is as odd a dance as St. Vitus ever executed. The human half of the pair is tip-toeing around the fallen leaves, trying to avoid stirring them with a foot, as that is the cue for the canine half to spaz out. In the meantime, the canine half is bouncing around like a junebug on a string trying to dodge the windblown enemy (think Neo on the rooftop in the first Matrix movie). Every now and then, you'll hear a woeful yelp, as the dog-like creature's leaf-avoidance circuitry fails her. This strange inter-species ballet would be hilarious were it not so darned serious.

Thus, it's with mixed feelings that I greet the first real signs of winter. I'm happy that Nature has scored an effective surgical strike, but I'm not looking forward to the next week's worth of walkies. And if you see a wild golden ball of fur whirling on the end of a leash, please don't call Animal Control. Instead, would you happen to have Dr. Phil's number handy...?

More Abbye Pics!

Well, I just couldn't resist. Being the perceptive bloggee that I know you to be, you've noticed the new photo near the top right of the Gazette's front page. What you may not have noticed is that each time you visit the Gazette or reload the page (assuming that you've waited a few seconds between reloads), a new photo will appear, as if by random magic!

Yes, this is Abbye. After all, for a dog this cute, one photo just isn't enough.

Enjoy!

The dog who would be queen

It occurs to me that I've never told you much about the third member of our little family, the one around whom all the universe revolves, or would, if she had her way about it. I'm speaking, of course, about The Dog, aka Abbye Fabulous (or Ab Fab, for short).

I've decided I need to make her a recurring character here on the Gazette. After all, Rachel puts dog pics on her site, and look at the traffic that generates. Lileks, likewise, obviously relies on Jasper for his hordes of daily readers. So it stands to reason that we need a dog. We need one that doesn't slobber as much as some, or engage in endless stick-chasing like others. We need Abbye.

By the way, this is probably a good time to point out that she's never been overly fond of that "e" dangling from the end of her name. She considers it pretentious. She can blame me for it. I got in way over my head and just panicked.

Here are five things you need to know about Abbye, if you're truly going to embrace her as she deserves:

• She's more like a cat than a dog, in many ways. She doesn't follow people around through the day, craving their attention. She gets up on her schedule, goes to bed on her schedule, and doesn't really care what we think about that.
• She's not fat, but she is really hairy. She has multiple layers of hair and fur, like a duck, I suppose. She'll lay in full sun on the concrete in 95 degree heat without being fazed, and she's never known the sensation of being too cold, even in the dead of winter. She also has webbed toes.
• She's absolutely afraid of everything. Blowing leaves, moths, pecans falling out of trees, blades of grass that behave in unexpectedly aggressive fashion... all of these things and many more are cause for great consternation in her life.
• Unless, of course, she spots a squirrel. Then she'll run through razor wire and broken glass to give chase. The hunting instinct is strong.
• She was a malnourished, beaten-down, broken-tailed shadow of a dog when we rescued her; she didn't walk to people, she crawled on her belly. I'd love to introduce my Colt Python to the guy (I'm sure it was a man, although that word really wouldn't apply, now, would it?) who put her in that state. So none of the preceding "eccentricities" are really her fault.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Abbye, in all her, um...glory. As you can see, she's a little shameless, too.

I know you're just dying to learn more about Abbye, so stay tuned. I expect her to turn up occasionally here in the Gazette. Rachel and James should stand forewarned.