A flair for the dramatic

After a beautiful, sunny day, dark clouds gathered to the northeast yesterday evening. A full rainbow with a partial pal formed in the sky, while lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. It was exhilarating! We rarely get thunder and lightning in the Willamette Valley; I think my heart dog Rosie only heard a thunderstorm once in her seven and a half years of life and she prompted crawled up on our bed and under our covers in her fear (something she had never done before). But I AM hoping for calmer weather while we camp out in the wilderness!

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D is for dogs, of course!

First of all, thank-you so much for your kind comments on the Sonnet. I agree with you; it doesn't look half bad on me in that photo. But that was within the first five minutes of trying it on; by the end of the next day, it had grown at least three sizes. Because of the oversized neckline and heavy sleeves, I have to keep tugging at the shoulders to keep in on - and then fold my arms. It is distracting enough when others constantly fuss with their clothes; it drives me crazy when I have to! For the record, this garment weighs over three pounds....

Jackson is lookin' good. In fact, Jackson is the purtiest, fluffiest, softest dog we have ever had. He's smart, too, although most of our dogs have been. I think dogs are about as smart as their people think they are (a lot like kids!), with a few notable exceptions.
Taking photos of him is a bit easier now that he is a doggy obedience school graduate; I can tell him to stand/stay (top photo) or sit/stay (second photo), and get cooperation. But he is still a puppy - and still has an alarming propensity to chew things up! Yes, there have been more casualties (don't ask Brian about his Thomas the Train engine). Jackson still likes to play puppy bite-games, too. I thought it would be easier when he lost his hypodermic-needle baby teeth, but all those shiny adult teeth are hard and strong. My hands aren't covered with little scabs any more - Brian's forearms are covered with little bruises!
Yes, I used the plural "dogs" in the title. No, we haven't gotten another dog, although a playmate for Action-Jackson is probably not a bad idea. Rosie often comes to mind, and I still miss her so. She was my constant but quiet companion, and that was more of a boon in my harried, hectic life than I ever realized - until she was abruptly absent. I tell myself that in a few years Jackson will probably be a real buddy, instead of another youngster to supervise and train, but that is a head exercise that doesn't help my heart. How DID she capture my heart so completely? How many tears can you cry for a dog?

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Moving from blue to a paler shade of grey

It has been hard to shake the blues since we had to put down Rosie nearly three weeks ago. Brian thinks I shouldn't still be sad; Rick is slightly more tactful but also thinks I'm taking her loss awfully hard. I'll admit it; the magnitude of my devastation over losing "Rosie-Posie-Puddin'-and-Pie" was shocking even to me. If I go at Mach 9, I function just fine, but in quieter moments, the sadness is still there like a lead blanket, ready to envelop me.

I want another "doggie love" in my life, yet I'm afraid no other doggie love will do. Rick and I have talked several times about what dog(s) may be in our future. While we haven't reached a consensus yet, it may be that we get another bulldog for indoors (we both love them) AND an outside dog for Brian to romp with (that will be the tough one to agree upon). After we get back from a week-long trip, we will begin looking in earnest. Actually, I've already done some looking (it's a long story; maybe I'll get to share it some day). I would love to add one of these beauties to our family, but so far, Rick is very resistant to the idea:
While I wait for the next four-footed family member to join us, I AM getting in some spinning and knitting; Christmas is approaching, after all! Above is a glimpse of what's on the needles at the moment; I intend to cast on at least one more project while we are traveling. What DID I do with myself before taking up knitting?

Right now the second largest of my Japanese maples is at its glorious peak. Today's fog and the flowering cherry behind it provide a perfect backdrop. I'm sure it will look much different when we get back.

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I'm back...

...from the brink of despair, from a wretched abyss of emotional pain, from Bend, Oregon. You knew I'd be back, right? After all, I am a "journaler" at heart, so it is my wont to write down things, to think on paper/computer screen.

Before moving on, I want to thank you for all your comments and personal emails in response to my last post. Friends really do multiply joys and divide sorrows. I haven't said a lot about Rosie on this blog, but she was the "Dog of My Life." There WILL be other dogs, of course, but the next one will probably be "Brian's dog." It will be awhile before I can devote the time, emotions and energy to a puppy; at this time in my life my higher priority is to be Brian's mommy.

Last weekend I was signed up for a Christian womens' retreat in Bend, OR. I was prepared to cancel when Rosie got sick, but decided to go after we had to put her down. Figured I was more likely to be distracted from the aching void Rosie left behind while off somewhere else, listening to inspiring speakers and being with a bunch of nice women. Twas true. It was a good retreat, in a beautiful setting, that kept me thinking mostly of things other than my sweet dog. The suite I shared with seven others looked out on a small river, and on both Saturday and Sunday mornings I got up early with a friend and went for long, brisk walks before breakfast. The view from our room (there was a dusting of snow on the ground Saturday morning!):
Some photos taken on our Sunday morning walk:

While in meetings, I knitted. It's a wonderful way to listen without getting sleepy. Before leaving home I had bound off my lacy shawl, so I took the rest of the yarn from Becca and a pattern I found for lacy fingerless gloves so I could have a matching ensemble. I finished two pair, and a ribbed headband! (Photos later; my camera batteries are charging and I still need to weave in ends.)

The fingerless gloves were knit on double-pointed needles, the first project I've done on DPs start to finish. I may actually feel brave enough to try socks now -- but don't hold your breath. There's a sweater pattern I want to try first. :-)

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Trying to end on a good note....

Losing a pet is never easy. Losing the most beloved of all that you have ever shared your life with is excruciating.

After Rick tried unsuccessfully to get enough blood Monday morning to run a chemistry panel and CBC, he told me to take Rosie into a small animal clinic to have that done, as well as chest and abdominal x-rays. Our "regular" small animal vet isn't in on Mondays, the second one I called couldn't do it because their x-ray processor was down, so I drove Rosie to a third vet Rick is familiar with who had an afternoon appointment available. The lab results looked good except for a couple spikes that could be attributed to the prednisone we've had her on; no pancreatitis. But the chest x-ray showed a large, undefined mass in her chest that was displacing her trachea way over to her right side, explaining her difficulty in breathing. Obviously something that large didn't happen overnight; apparently she's been compensating for it for a long time before her "crash" on Saturday.

The vet sent us home with a couple cans of easily-digested prescription dog food; I softened it even more with warm water and got her to eat a bit from my hand that evening. She ate from my hand again Tuesday morning, enabling me to get a dose of prednisone down her. That helped her feel better; by Tuesday noon, although still weak, she was able to stand up and eat warm, softened food by herself.

Meanwhile, Rick sent her x-rays to a classmate from vet school who is now a board-certified radiologist at the WSU vet school. Dr. Roberts advised we get Rosie ultrasounded at a referral clinic to get a better idea of what we were dealing with. Some kind of cancer was the most likely diagnosis, but a treatable cyst was another. So today I drove Rosie to Portland. It was so hard to deny her food and water when she was now perky enough to want both (she's actually been drinking well all along), but I had to in case anesthesia was needed (it wasn't). There we got the news we were dreading; a large, inoperable, heart-based tumor that was putting pressure on her trachea and other structures, and causing fluid to collect around her heart. Rick and I conferred by phone. Since the referral practice doesn't do euthansias anyway, we decided to bring her home, make the most of her steroid-induced comfort, and lay her to rest here. Before leaving, I asked for a bowl so she could get a good drink and gave her a dog biscuit I had in my purse. When we got in the car I gave her a tennis ball I had stumbled upon under the seat; she happily gnawed it into little pieces. I swung through Burgerville for some sweet potato fries, which we shared. When we got home, she got another drink, a nice, big dish of warm, soupy canned food (with another prednisone), and a new toy to chew between rests. She even played a bit of tug-o-war with me. Now she's dozing next to me on the couch. Brian is out and about with his Aunt Kristine (bless her!) so I can spend this time with my "Baby Dog;" Rick is not yet home. Tonight after he has a chance to dig her grave, I will stroke Rosie and tell her how much I love her while Rick administers a final mercy and I fall apart for the umpteenth time since I realized a few short days ago I might lose the best dog I've ever had. One final blessing for all three of us: the catheter used to give her IV fluids Monday is still in and open, so we can do this without any final poking.

For now I am going to close this without any photos, because I can't bear to look through my files and think of how much I am going to miss this dog -- my dog. I am going to sit here and absorb every bit of being with her I have left. Seven years has not been long enough....

In the pink - and not

Today I noticed that a third volunteer dahia, a delicate pink, was blooming. Not too far away there is one sedum blossom hiding next to the blue fescue (the meadows rats haven't read the Sunset Western Garden Book's notation that deer don't like sedum): Then there's this rich pink mum in one of my pots on the deck:
Dampening my enjoyment of all this beauty, however, is Rosie's current state of misery. We're not sure what's causing her pain and loss of appetite; Rick suspects pancreatitis. He'll run blood work on her tomorrow before we get too aggressive; we don't want to give her painkillers if her kidneys are struggling. She's never been this sick, and I'm worried. Please keep her in your prayers.
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Let's hear it for the girls (and boys)!

I mentioned that at the last dressage show I entered, I got to watch Olympian Debbie McDonald compete on her young horse. She also brought her world-famous partner, Brentina, and did an exhibition Grand Prix freestyle. That I didn't get to watch, but a friend sent me this link of that freestyle this week. Small, fuzzy, partially obsured by a judge's stand, the ride still brought tears to my eyes. I went back and watched Andreas Helgstrand's freestyle on Blue Hors Matine right afterwards, and have to say I don't think Matine holds a candle to Brentina. Compare for yourself -- and enjoy!

A girlfriend and I took in yesterday's Brown Bag concert and then had lunch to celebrate her Aug. 14 birthday. We've been talking about doing something like this for years, just because, but haven't managed to until yesterday. Molly's Revenge, a great Celtic band, returned for the third year in a row; they are fantastic!The guy who plays the Celtic drum, flute, and bagpipes is as wired as any rock star; in the final set he jumps off the stage, jumps onto a picnic table, springs to a second picnic table, and jumps back on stage -- all while playing those pipes like a happy fiend! (Click on OysterFest 2005, then on Ballavanich Reel for a sample.)

Rosie got to go on the "girls' day out," too, and loved it. Before I had Brian I took her everywhere, and I know she misses it. It's a good day when you can make a friend and your dog happy!

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Picnicking, politicking and pets

Last night we attended a free evening concert on the campus of Linfield College in McMinnville (a beautiful institution that reminds Rick and me a bit of our alma mater back in Nebraska). Brian and I heard Etouffee as an acoustic duo at the Brown Bag concert series last summer and liked it a lot. Last night featured the whole band, and it rocked a little hard. Still, it was a nice place to be on a hot summer night with a picnic supper.

This morning the state vet gave the nod to my little Shetland flock for the voluntary scrapie program. I'm a little envious of all those whose state vets help them with tagging and shots and such; the one in my area comes strictly to do the necessary paperwork. He doesn't think much of the program, either, because it is only as effective as people are honest. He does make a good point: to make the program more meaningful, necropsies should be required on all animals in the program who die. Otherwise, people may unknowingly (or knowingly) dispose of an animal that has scrapie and no one is the wiser.

Fellow Shetland shepherd and blogger Juliann had to put down her old, beloved pug recently. Reading her account made me cry -- and reach over to scratch my Rosie. At seven years of age she's been having some health issues of her own, and I am very conscious of how short our time is together. We've had Rosie since her conception, and she has been my "baby dog" ever since we decided which pup in our litter we were going to keep. I'm hoping for a few more good years, but it won't be long enough.
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WOW! Can you say Fantastic Customer Service?

A week ago yesterday I put my Rocky Sheep Suits order in the mail -- plain ol' First Class USPS mail. Today I got my eight sheep suits in a Priority Mail box, with a $4 credit (or refund check, if I'd rather) for shipping since everything fit in a flat rate box. I am MORE than impressed! Becca had strongly recommended this company for their superior sheep coats, and others on the Yahoo Shetland lists had mentioned that the reps of another company were sometimes slow in responding, so I finally swallowed big and made out my check to Rocky Sheep Company. I wrote a note on the order form saying that my sheep are being sheared on March 22, so if there was any chance of getting at least the smaller four coats by then, I sure would appreciate it. My understanding was that they make the suits to order, and I don't know how many little sewing gnomes they have on staff. Never would I have anticipated this kind of turn-around time.

Since my Rosie-dog (world's cutest bulldog/world's homeliest Shetland sheep) was the closest thing with four legs, she got to model the size C coat that I hope will fit all the girls after shearing.
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