Well, Hoover is making a comeback – no thanks to some veterinarians who shall remain nameless.  I argued with them yesterday for some pain meds and that made all the difference.  When are they going to get it through their heads this is not something they can “fix” – it just IS and let’s make him comfortable for the time he has left!  So instead of 2 Rimadyl a day he is now taking: a strong steroid, a prescription antacid because the steriod is so strong, and now a narcotic pain reliever – 7 pills plus antibiotics 2x a day to take the place of 2 tasty Rimadyl 1x a day…and to top it off they are making him thirsty, taste bad,  he pees more and no doubt his liver levels are elevated – the reason they wanted me to avoid Rimadyl in the first place…WELL THAT MAKES SENSE (sarcasm).  He isn’t moving his neck any better, is still paralyzed like a quadraplegic, but you can see from his eyes he’s not in pain now.  He’s back to yelling at Riggs, Moola & Jazzy when they look at him – a good sign.  The pain dose they wanted to give him would have made him a Zombie (2 Tramadol pills every 12 hrs) so I started with 1/2 and that wasn’t quite enough, so went to 1 and that’s working better – though it’s only good for 12 hrs. vs. 24 with the Rimadyl.  So essentially we are doing what the Rimadyl (a non-steroidal pain med) was doing with Narcotics and Steroids…pretty stupid if you ask me. Really irks me he had to have 4 rotten days switching over when he was doing just FINE, thanks to their egos. 

On another note, I had my first dream about Shadow since he died.  It was wonderful (until I woke up and started crying because I miss him so much).  It was SOOOO real, and I was holding and petting him and his whole essense was there – aura, expressions, personality – I was carrying him around hugging him but he had no weight – just soft cuddlyness.  It was so nice.  After he died I felt so bad because so many of the dogs give you a “sign” they are ok at the rainbow bridge – a dream, a corner of the eye glimse when they aren’t there, a sound – but from him I got nothing.  Finally, a really strong sign he’s OK.  It felt good. 

Ok, I did it.  I’ve written a small book – I have his rainbow bridge tribute up and some stuff on his page.  It’s very hard.  He was so special and this seems so final.  I guess if there’s any message at all in his life it’s DONT GIVE UP.  No situation is hopeless, and every breeder should be their for their puppies.  If you seek a breeder make sure they take back their dogs -under ANY circumstances - had we not taken him back he would have probably ended up in a shelter somewhere – euthanzied at  7 months old and would have never been  able to touch the lives of so many and teach us so much.  It’s just hard to put into words how much he has affected our lives – more than ANY other dog ever.  I just hope to someday have another like him – not the same – but with the same drive and spirit.  That would be awesome!

It’s getting harder and harder to update this site – so many of my best friends are gone.  I’m trying to write Shadow’s rainbow bridge tribute and how do you summarize in a couple of paragraphs a dog that was so intense, so complex, so brilliant, so unique.  I don’t think it’s possible, but I’m trying.  I feel like the light has been put out from the most magnificent fireworks of all time.  The grand finale.  Where do you go from here?  I love the others of course, but he was truly special – and challenging.  The other dogs are mourning too.  Especially Riggs.  Riggs really likes the old guys.  I think he’s gained a lot of wisdom from Homer & Shadow (well, maybe not wisdom from Shadow aka “the Butthead”, but I’m sure he learned some really useful things like how to get what you want out of life and how live every day like it’s your last and savor every moment and how to rummage and thieve). 

I want to thank everyone that has expressed concern for him over the last few months.  He went to the rainbow bridge this afternoon – fighting every inch of the way.  It’s been very hard on all of us, especially Stephanie who just doesn’t understand how bad off he was.  He was almost blind, almost deaf, pooping in his sleep, couldn’t walk so had to be partially carried outside, and had a raging bladder infection that went into his kidneys causing him a lot of pain, had trouble peeing because of his prostrate and was wetting his bed. His abdomen was swollen with something else – cancer? liver? who knows.  He sat with us and tried to do the malamute *I’m fine* thing, but you could see in his eyes, he was feeling really bad.  Steph is still having trouble understanding this because he still wanted to play the ”face” game with her and hid how he really felt because he loves her so much.  He hadn’t slept in 2 days – figeting and barking or whining and got little sleep because he felt so bad.  He couldn’t bear to be alone for even 5 minutes without barking for us.  It was time, and though he was 100% there mentally with his still exhuberent spirit, and devoured all the special last treats, which made it doubly hard, it was time and I think he knew it. He tried to *eat* the cable guy and vet even though he could barely tell where they were standing – one last hurrah being “the Butthead”.  I’m having a hard time coming up with a rainbow bridge tribute because he was one of the most special dogs I’ve ever known.  No, THE most special dog.  Our hearts are broken again… Cindy

Riggs is back to watching TV and yodeling. Shadow is going downhill fast again and this time I think is it – or closer to *it*.  Thursday the vet is coming out for heartworm tests and it’s killing me to try and decide whether to put him down then or wait a little longer.  He has another bladder infection which he is treating with huge amounts of cranberry juice on his own (that fixed it before – he ASKS for his juice) but his rear is getting weaker, and he can’t see very well, hears even less, and cries, screams or barks constantly wanting to be helped to do something.  Has trouble getting his front up now mainly because he’s just getting weaker which is breaking my back. I really spend  most of my day helping him in and out and to get comfortable so I’m wondering if I need to do something.  I’m really having a hard time with it because he is so mentally alert and seems reasonably happy (as long as I help him get up, etc.).  I’d like him to go as peacefully as possible – but he’s butthead and there is no *peacefully* with him.  He’s a survivor and I suspect he will figure out what’s up (my crying won’t help) and will fight and make it really difficult.  So I’m really torn about what to do.  He’s falling apart – found blood from somewhere yesterday – probably the bladder infection – but he has so much determination to get better (which he won’t) it breaks my heart.  Right now he’s sitting under a shade tree in the yard – that will last 10 minutes unless he falls asleep before the squeak goes out he wants up or to come in or move.  This has been the hardest one yet – and Penny was agonizingly hard.  Hoover isn’t doing all that well – he’s healthy overall, just his rear is getting weaker.  Then Moola got into my meds last night so she will have the cleanest arteries in dogville due to the Lipator. Yes, I am running a nursing home for dogs!  We would like to think about having puppies – we could use some puppy breath – but how would we find the time! Well, gotta go….being summoned by Shadow…

Once again, just as we were thinking he was a goner…Shadow has bounced back.  He is amazing!  Like a cat with 9 lives, we were sure he only had a few weeks or days to live – or would have to make the “big decision”.  But he’s trying so hard – and he started his own therapy regimen.  Even if he didn’t feel like it, he’ll ask to go for a walk outside.  (the excuse is always to pee – but it’s so hard for him to walk, I doubt that’s the REAL reason).  He limps quite a bit in the morning, and he still can’t get up on his own, but once up he’ll tackle anything (stairs, turns, even nudging the door open with his nose while I hold the back end steady).  He mostly stays on the drive way because it’s flat and there are no obsticales to maneuver around.  But I’ve seen major improvement – he even made it up the smallest step without help a few times.  I think he’s getting some strength back – and if being a pain in the butt is any indicator – he’s feeling MUCH better.  He no longer squeaks weakly – he does the loud, screachy bark he used to do.   He’s got a routine now and actually this could go on for awhile since his condition has stabilized.  I never thought I could laugh at a dog “guarding” his food dish!  He makes it a point to “yell” at Riggs, Moola & Jazz that it’s HIS dish (even though empty) and back off.  They respect his wishes and he feels important.  Not like he could DO anything if they wanted it however – but that doesn’t stop the Butthead from making his wishes known.

We went to dog class last night and Moola was bouncing off the walls.  She found a tennis ball and I threw it and threw it and threw it (hoping to wear her out before we started – ha! Not possible!).  But she had a blast and made a new friend, a very tiny affenpinscher (also called a monkey terrier).  They did a lot of butt smelling and I think had a nice “conversation” though they couldn’t actually play (size difference), I think they liked each other. It’s so nice having a Malamute I can trust with ANY dog – that’s what I love about Moola – she loves everyone.  Funny how you keep a puppy expecting it to only be a pet – I kept her for her wonderful personality.  But she’s turning out to be the better “showdog” – the one that loves showing, asks for the win, and has fun in the process.

Funny how you never notice things until you’re forced to.  In taking Shadow out day and night, having to wait with him while he finds just the right spot to go, standing there in my pajamas, I’m watching the phases of the moon come and go.  The other night I saw stars for the first time in years.  Things like that make you wonder what is the meaning of life.  They also make you realize how incredibly persistent and strong Malamutes are.  Most dogs would have given up by now – having to practically be carried out, propped up, so he can waddle and do his business.  It isn’t easy. Then there’s the scream as we pick him up – sometimes I think it’s just a protest to having to give in to the dependency, other times I wonder if it’s pain.   I don’t know.  But once he’s up and motoring around he seems content with his fate – for now.  I have no illusions this will last forever, but it’s working for now.  He manages on his own to get all over his little space somehow – you never really see him do it – you just come back and he’s turned around, or in a different position.  Maybe it’s the malamute don’t let the pack see weakness thing.  I wonder if the other dogs are fooled.  Last night I dreamt the Bobo boat sank in front of my eyes.  I’m wondering if that’s an omen – even if it isn’t, that’s eventually what is going to happen.  It’s inevitible and it makes me sad.  Meanwhile life goes on.  I’m glad he decided to be back in the house so we can share these last days together and he can enjoy the company of the other dogs too – he really does like Riggs alot.  He’s really learned a lot about trust in these last months – of us and of other dogs. 

Riggs has earned his Doctorate.  After watching tons of Doctor shows he demonstrated his compassion and apparently what he learned last night.  For days we haven’t slept because Shadow would cry and scream all night to be let out, because he was lonely, he wanted water – we were exhausted!  Riggs always has had a love of the old guys, as a puppy he would spend long hours talking to Homer as Homer’s health failed.  Apparently the old guy left a special place in Rigg’s heart and since then he’s always been kind and gentle with the old dogs (not typical malamute behavior, most would rather knock off the old guy than humor him).   Anyway, in desperation last night from lack of sleep, I put Rigg’s bed next to the old guy and hoped his company would get us some well needed sleep.  It worked!  I heard Riggs several times come and lay down by our bedroom door, then I’d hear a tiny moan from Shadow and he’d get up and leave.  By 5 am when I awoke I realized I hadn’t been up ONCE all night.  Of course, Gracie decided to pipe in and yell toward morning, but at least you can bang on the floor and she quiets down.  With Shadow that just doesn’t work – he gets louder and louder and louder. However, last night Rigg’s nursing kept Shadow content and quiet.  Shadow is now being as obnoxious as ever, now that Riggs is off eating his well-deserved huge rawhide, but at least it’s daylight and with a little sleep, I can tolerate a little demanding and whiney behavior from the old coot.  What did he do last night that accomplished what we could not?  (I mean, we tried EVERYTHING imaginable).  I think he talked “dog” to Shadow.  I think they spent the night having long conversations like Riggs used to do with Homer.  Shadow even made the effort to STAND – slowly making his back end get up so he could change position, he managed to go the whole night without drinking water like a fish, he didn’t pant uncontrollably.   They say a pet is good for your heart – maybe dogs need other dogs too?  Maybe Riggs shouldn’t get the title of Doctor as much as faith healer!  Dogs are amazing – and the power of the pack is more amazing.  Who would think 2 males would get along and like each other so much that you could trust them together all night (Riggs is double Shadow’s size), and that just being together would be comforting to an old guy on his last leg.  We’re talking Shadow here – a dog who never quite fit in and with aggression issues with other dogs and people –  getting along with a male twice his size – actually trusting and depending on him.  I’m even more convinced dogs have a language all their own, beyond words, perhaps ESP that we may never comprehend.  Obviously all the knowledge learned from E-Vets and Scrubs helped Riggs as well , he could comfort Shadow when no one else could.  He didn’t scream for drinks of water every 15 minutes (and then have to pee every 20), nor did he screach as he pooped (he no longer can make it outside so screaches while he goes), nor did he moan and howl from loneliness – which was his apparent issue all along.  In his old age, Shadow’s separation anxiety seems to be returning full bloom and what a wonderful discovery that his companionship with another dog, Riggs, can help him cope. 

Today’s been relatively quiet – maybe because the weather is warming up and the snow is melting a little.  Everyone has been content to just hang around the house.  Riggs had a long conversation with Shadow this afternoon – one of those long non-verbal esp sessions humans will never understand.  Pod spent the better part of the afternoon outside hunting – she loves to hunt.  Chevy helped as much as he could then went and sat on the porch.  That of course drove Hoover absolutely nuts seeing him through the doorwall – Hoover was whining and yelling at him.  Clueless, Chevy took a nap.