The End

He made it all the way home before he cried.
The last he saw her, she was standing in the little cell at the animal shelter, trembling.
It is an image that will be burned into his memory for the rest of his life.
He knew it would be painful, and it is.
Though not as painful as his last loss.

And the circumstances were different this time.
This time, he made the decision about when and why, not some unplanned, unknown circumstance.
But it is still painful.

He had to steel himself to go through with the task.
It is not something he did easily.
He felt like a zombi as he delivered his dog to the shelter man, trying not to think about what he was doing, emotionally, to himself and to his dog.
He just plowed ahead and did it.
It had to be done.

He knows that the pain will last for a while.
And there will be the emptiness in the yard and house.
The silence, where other sounds used to be.
No more barking in the night, or scratching on the back door.
Now it will be quiet.
Quiet even when he wished there was some sounds.
It will be quiet now.
Always quiet.
Silence is the sound sadness makes.

The sad thing is, his dog trusted him.
After all her pain in her early years, she recognized quickly that this place was different.
She had found a home where she was loved and understood.

She opened herself to him, as much as an animal can.
He was her Alpha.
He provided the food, the prime task of an Alpha.
It was a task he took seriously, and spoiled her with special additions to her bland diet – eggs, oatmeal, meat, leftovers.
It was not something that she really could appreciate beyond the moment of enjoyment.
This, because dogs do not do comparative thinking.

And for the time they were together, he gave as much of himself to her as he could.
He loved her and gave her as much Tender Loving Care as he could, given the constraints of his life/schedule.
And she responded in the only way an animal can – she wanted to be around him as much as she could.
And she exercised her instincts to warn and protect him from outside threats real and imagined (or at least, not understood).

The good news is animals do not do comparative thinking.
They live in the moment.
But they do develop expectations about how “things” will go from day to day.
They get used to the daily routine – even if each day has no repeated routine.
So, as shocking as another trip to another kennel is for her, she will adapt.
And she will forgive him.
Because she does not know how to hold a grudge or seek revenge.
She will accept her new life.
She will deal with the changes.

Perhaps she will find another good home.
At worst, she will be put to sleep.
That is the good news.
After all, she is just a dog.

The bad news is he feels like he has failed another person.
Another person who trusted him.
Another person who depended on him.
And he has.
This is like getting a divorce.
Again.

For almost the same reasons.
Almost.
Then, it was because he did not know how to continue to deal with the situation he was faced with.
After years of no change and no knowledge of how the assist in a change, he gave up trying.
So, he ended it.

This time, he knew how to deal with the issues, but also knew he could not continue to do so.
It was taking too much out of him.
Too much time.
Too much energy.
Actually it was his job that was taking all the time and energy, but of the two elements, the job was more important than the pet.
Priorities force us to make some very difficult decisions sometimes.
This was one of those times.

So he now must live with the feeling that he has betrayed the trust of a simple animal.
One who trusted him to be different from her past owners.
One who cared and would be her friend.
And it was so for a few months.
Then things changed.
And now he must live with this guilt of betrayal for the rest of his life.

So this is yet another decision that he will regret the rest of his life.
Actually, he regrets that he ever gave into his heart and adopted this second dog.
Better to have never made a commitment than to make one and break it.
So, along with the emotional pain, is the knowledge of yet another broken promise in his life.
So many broken promises.
So many....

Life Changes

After four months of searching I have been blessed with a job.
It is not an ideal position but it will supply my needs.
I knew when I pressed the Send button that there was the risk of being hired in this less-than-ideal job.
But the situation worse than having a less-than-ideal job is no job at all.
And I have had six months of that.
So here I am.

I am working on my Philippians 4:12 skills (along with learning the details of my new job).
To prevent you from having to look it up, it goes like this......

Philippians 4:12
I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.

What is the job, you ask?
I am a janitor, tasked with cleaning a part of one of the Huntsville city high schools.
My shift is from 3 PM until 11:30 PM.
Most of us get finished with our assigned area by 9 PM.
Sometimes sooner, sometimes later.
When we complete our work, we sit in the cafeteria and wait for our leader to dismiss us.
Sometimes that is earlier and sometimes it is 11:30.
But while we are working, we are moving around – emptying the trash, sweeping, mopping, dusting, vacuuming, cleaning toilets, cleaning windows and mirrors.

I am the only white-skinned person on the crew.
I am also the oldest person on the crew.

One good thing about his job is that it is harassment-free.
Our leed person leaves us alone to do our work.
I want Miss. Wanda to come by to inspect my work to be sure that I am doing my job correctly.
And she does.
But she does not stand over me.
I like that.
I get nervous when someone is standing by, looking over my shoulder.

As I expected, this job is very taxing on me, physically.
While the work is not hard, as I count hard, I am constantly busy and moving around.
it makes me go home very tired every evening.
Because I cannot do as much as I used to do, or for as long as I used to do, I have had to re-arrange my physical activities.

I have always hated second shift because of the disruption it causes in my daily life.
This job is no exception.
Here are some of my life changes.....

No more morning weight workouts on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
No more morning walks around the neighborhood on Tuesday and Thursday.
No more running on Saturday morning.
I can no longer attend church on Wednesday evenings.
I can no longer attend the meetings of my neighborhood association, neighborhood council, or community watch group.
I have not had a regular dinner until tonight (Saturday) since I started last Tuesday (Monday was a holiday and my last regular dinner).
You cannot cook a steak and prepare a salad at work.
So I eat two lunches, one at lunch time, and one at work.
Just walking the dog each morning is less enjoyable than it was before.

The pay is just slightly above minimum wage.
But even at this wage, it will be enough to supply my needs.
Even if they start adjusting our pay to actual hours worked instead of padding the timesheets like they are now.
The good part of this job is that it is monday through friday.
I have my weekends off.

There is talk of some occasional overtime on weekends but I will steadfastly resist such activities.
There are people on the crew who want more hours (= more money) that I will gladly give my extra time to.

So, am I happy?
Sort of.

Do I hate my job?
No.
Hate is too strong a word.

Would I rather be doing something else?
Yes, but it depends on what the other something is.
There are other jobs around that are harder than this one.
With more difficult people to work with.

I am still looking at Help Wanted ads.

Consequences

Patty is miffed at me today.
She has good reason to be – sort of.
Let me explain.

Last night, Patty awoke from her evening nap at 12:30 AM, came to my bed to be let outside.
I drowsily complied and went back to bed.
We had a pretty good rain yesterday afternoon and the ground was damp.
I was in the bed but five minutes when Patty began to bark.
This was not her usual announcement barks – deep, slow, grouped in fours or fives.
These barks were quick and short, grouped in threes or fours.
I let this go on for a about five minutes then reluctantly decided to investigate.

Outside, I find Patty with her nose under my utility shed and her butt in the air, tail in full wag.
Evidently, she has found some critter under the shed – perhaps a cat or raccoon.
Patty is running from side to side of the building, furiously digging in the nice soft clay to get closer to her prey.
Her nice white fur, from her elbows down, is a nice dark brown.
This can be seen even in the moonlight.

I ask her to stop but she pays me no mind, totally absorbed in the nocturnal hunt.
I dread what she will look like when she is done with her adventure, and what I must do to accommodate her dirty state.
I went back to bed, after locking the back door, so she could not reenter the house, disturbed by what was going on in my back yard.

What do I do?
Lock her out?
Yes.
Give her a bath?
Certainly, but when?
Outside, with the water hose, given her muddy state? (I had just mopped the floor yesterday because of another digging session by the quad-paw.)
But I know she would not like that and would be hard to keep still given that she would have the whole back yard to avoid me.
Or a bath in the tub – the usual method?
And when?
When we first wake up?
Before breakfast?
After breakfast but before her walk?
It might help her dry out to do it then.
Or give her a bath after her walk, when she is tired?
Or...
My mind was a whirl.
Meanwhile, Patty continued to bark.
After another 15 minutes or so of non-sleep I got up again and went out into the back yard.

Patty was more responsive to my presence this time. (a good sign).
She stopped barking and came over to me.
She was indeed muddy.
And happy to have something to do.
She seemed proud of herself.

At that point, the critter apparently escaped from under the shed and ran under my rear fence.
Patty gave chase but was too late for a capture.
After sticking her nose under the back fence (and rubbing her chest in more brown dirt/mud), she returned to me (standing on the concrete patio) for affirmation.
I complimented her on her keen senses and advised her to stop barking (which at this point was all but unnecessary – she had stopped barking on her own.)
I advised her to go to sleep, which she seemed to obey by laying down in the grass, and I went back to my bed.

I lay in the dark, my mind spinning at 10k rpm, regarding what to do with my mud-ball dog.
After ten minutes or so, I turned on the light and began to read my History of the Christian Church, Volume 2. After about 30 minutes, I was ready to try darkness and Alpha brain waves again.
I slept.

So this is what happened Friday morning and why Patty is ill with me.
I woke up at – correction – I GOT up at 5:50 AM (yes, I slept in...).
Shaved and did my usual Friday weight workout.
I fed Patty her dog food (no embellishments) outside.
I fixed my breakfast, ate it, and cleaned the dishes.
Then got myself ready for our usual dog-man walk.

I went outside, put the leash around Patty's neck (she is getting better at holding still while I install her chain collar around her neck), and off we went.
We did our usual walk, but I had a plan....
After about 50 minutes we were home again.
I left patty in the dining room while I prepared the bathroom for a doggy bath.
I removed her collars and gently grabbing the skin of her neck, guided her into the bathroom (which she does not like for this very reason).
I lifted her into the tub and began the soaking of her very substantial fur.

I did my best to clean her muddy legs, paws, chest, and tummy.
Patty tolerated my ministrations as best she could, but it was clear she wanted OUT.
Finally, I was done.
She was glad and did not take much urging to climb out of the tub on to the drying matt.
After a few shakes and towel rubs she was free to go hide in her place of choice.
It was at this point that I got The Look from my dog.

A mixture of betrayal and disappointment in her eyes.
And body language that said I am ready to run from you again if you have any further plans for me.
But I was mostly done.

I went to the store to buy our weekly food, leaving Patty inside to air-dry her remaining dampness.

We are slowly returning to our previous levels of cordiality.

More On The Theory Of Dog Walking

Walking Patty the dog is an interesting experience.
It also allows me to ponder the differences between Patty and my previous, short-lived dog, Sally.

First, the basics...
For me, walking the dog is all about the dog.
It provides exercise for the animal, helps her get used to her neighborhood, meet other people and animals, and see other things outside of her fenced-in plot of dirt.
For the most part, I let my dog choose which path/street/direction to go.
I don't care (with qualifications).
I only intervene when I have to, for the safety of the dog or simple convenience (meaning that our presence in/near a situation ahead may cause a disruption that will be bothersome to someone else).
I don't care if she stops and sniffs every other mailbox post, etc.
That is why we are out there.
I watch the time and try to keep our jaunts to about an hour, mostly because I am a scheduled kind of guy.

When I lived in the country, Woof, my big yard dog was free to roam the fields at will.
He trotted a path around the neighborhood every morning just after sunrise, often with a friend of his from next door.
I observed that the normal pace for a morning explore was a brisk trot with lots of stops to sniff.
I guessed that this was the equivalent to the wolves going on a hunt.
After about an hour, Woof would come home, plop in the driveway and be on station for the rest of the day to guard and protect his two-legged charges.

I did not take Woof for walks because he did not need any.
If the two-leggers did go for a walk, he came along as a part of the family, but he knew this walk was not for his benefit.
Living in the city is different.
Dogs need to be walked for several reasons.
Now to my observations....

Sally was a strutter.
She was proud to be a growing big white doggy and when she walked along the street or sidewalk, you could hear her front paws slap the pavement.
Patty is less vigorous.

Sally liked to be my leader/hunter/protector and she liked to pull me along.
To the point that I had to literally brace myself to hold her back when she wanted to examine something out of leash distance.
I was constantly having to make her stop pulling.

Patty is less vigorous.
She likes a slight pressure on her neck as we walk, but she is constantly trying to adjust to my pace.
Seldom will she test the tensile strength of her nylon tether.
Often, I have to keep a slight tension on her leash because she is walking very close to me.
If I did not keep this gentle pressure in her string, the chain collar would just fall open.

In both cases, I am less intolerant of being dragged along on the journey because I understand that the normal pace of a dog on his/her morning walk is a trot.
They are excited to get out and see/smell who has been around overnight.
This is not an urgent pace, but it is clearly exciting to them.
It is important business that they must be about.
It is what they must do.
I am less excited about this task, so I am less enthused.
But I try to go along with the program because I understand the drill, to some extent.

Still, being dragged along the sidewalk with 74 pounds of tension on the line can be tiring and bothersome, so I do try to moderate it occasionally.
I believe Sally would have been perfectly happy to be pulling me along in a Radio Flyer, if we had one.
Patty, once reminded, does try to moderate her pace.
She is a very compliant dog.
We can likely tally some of Sally's exuberance to her youth.
She may have settled down had she been allowed to live long enough.

Sally was the explorer of the two dogs.
Once she got used to one path, a process that took just two or three trips, she was ready to blaze a new trail.
She took me all over the neighborhood.
She never took the same path two day in a row.

And she wanted to sniff both sides of a road.
Everything needed to be checked.

Patty is 180.
I let her choose the direction of our walk the first morning and we basically walk the same course every morning.
Sometimes she explores the church grounds that is on our route (like yesterday) and sometimes she ignores it (like today).
But these are minor variations to a very predictable pattern.
And she is content to stay on the sidewalk.
Rarely will she seek to sniff something across the street.

Only today, did she seek to turn and go down a street she has never traveled.
This path actually led to two other streets she has never been on.
True to her form, Patty stayed on one side of the street and did not zig-zag from side to side very much.

We shall see if this breaks her walking pattern.
These are streets that Sally knew well.

Sally liked to run.
When she got excited (like when greeting another dog), she wanted to run to burn off the energy such situations generated in her.
Being a runner, I always complied.
One reason was because I know that Great Pyrenees dogs are not long distance runners.
They will lumber along for a few hundred feet, then slow to a walk.
Three or four sessions like this during an hour walk and they are done for the day.
This may have been a symptom of Sally's youth that would have diminished with time.
We will never know.

Patty trots.
Period.
She stops and assesses her item of interest for several seconds.
Sometimes a full minute.
Then walks on.
Only occasionally will Patty trot and even more rarely will she run.
And then, only a few dozen yards.

Sally did all of her biological business in her yard.
While on a walk, she seemed to not care if other animals knew who she was or where she had been.
So, she seldom left any momentos for the other animals to sniff.

Patty is the opposite.
She saves her liquid and semi-solid gifts for the neighbors yards.
So I must attend to our walks with the appropriate baggage.
Patty will squat 20 or so times on our walks.
And provide two bags worth of other material along the way.
From my observations, Patty is a very healthy dog.
I am not sure why it is so important for Patty to mark her path so often.

I am sure there are more differences between these two interesting creatures, but I have run out of items for today.
.

The Progress of Patty the Pooch

Patty is a sweet, smart dog.
It is difficult to believe that she was mistreated before I found her.
She responds to her new name (Patty) without any special training on my part.
When she misbehaves (mainly trashcan diving) she acts contrite just from my voice inflections.
She has never yet messed in the house.
And Patty does not play with my dirty clothes. (like my former fuzzy friend did...)

Around food she is mostly well-behaved.
She did steal something off the dining table once when left unattended.
This may have been because she did not know the rules as much as being a sneak.
Most of the time, she just sniffs and looks and licks her lips.
We will see how she does in this area.

Early on she was nervous about fast hand movements, but that seems to be mostly gone.
Occasionally, she will shy away from a fast hand movement, especially by strangers.

Her initial resistance to being on a leash is nearly all gone.
She does well 99 percent of the time and only occasionally tries to pull away.
Patty is learning to negotiate with me on pace and direction during our walks.

My philosophy is that walking a dog is for the benefit of the dog, not the human.
It is not a victory lap to show off my trophy animal for all the neighbors to admire.
It is to exercise the dog and allow her to get used to her area.
So some of the pace and direction of the walk should be left up to the dog.
My overrides to her decisions are mainly for her safety or a time constraint.

Early on, there was some resistance to having a collar around her neck.
But that went away the second day I had her.
Now she has a collar on all the time since then (except for her bath).

Today, I started using a chain choke collar for her walk, - as I did with Sally - to see how she would respond.
She did fine.
Zero resistance to having a new, heavier piece of hardware around her neck, and she responded well to the new feel.
As with Sally, I use it only for walks.
Sally liked to pull me along, apparently from the need to be my guide through the neighborhood.
Patty is more relaxed.
She will spend most of a walk with a loose leash at my side or just ahead of me.

My goal with the choke collar is to keep it loose most of the time, with just a small amount of tension on it so she knows I'm there.
If she needs some guidance, then more tension can be applied – typically, very little is needed and only for two or three seconds.
If more urgent or aggressive guidance is required, the choke function is there to mimic the teeth of an Alpha pack leader administering discipline.
But the need for this last application is rare.

Often times, Patty will respond at just a quiet word from me.
She is learning my command, “wait”.
Which means to stop at the end of a sidewalk before walking into the street.
The command involves a slight tug on the leash to let her know the needs to stop.
Sally was learning it, too.
Patty is already tuned into this command.

She is doing well with my other commands, “this way” (some other direction than the one she is going), and “be with me” (= “heel”).
As you can see, I do not do traditional dog commands.
I just talk to them like I talk to peoples.
They get it. (the dogs....)

My version of the traditional command, “come” is “come here”.
We are still working on this one.
There is no real problem here, I just have not spent much time training Patty.
Mainly because she is so smart and well-behaved.
We have not spent any time on “sit”, “stay”, or “lay down”, yet.
Interestingly, I have told her to lay down on two occasions and she laid down.
I don't know if she really understood the command or if she was just lucky.
I was impressed, nonetheless.

The summary of all of this is that Patty has not been as difficult to adjust to (and seemingly, vice versa) as I was expecting.
I do not know what her former life was like, but she seems to be doing just fine here.

Patty - Post op

Patty had her internal female parts modified Thursday.
I delivered her a 7 AM, per instructions, and picked her up at 4 PM that afternoon.

She was barely able to walk at pick-up time.
I had to help her into the car.
Once home, she had no appetite not even for water.
She wanted to stay outside even though it was very hot (100), I thought she would be more comfortable inside.
I prevailed because she was in no shape to argue.
Bad idea.

She got sick and barfed on the gym room carpet. (a common reaction to anesthesia, I understand)
So I let her out for a while.
After a couple of hours she requested to come inside and I accommodated her.
She slept all night in her two favorite locations - next to my bed against the wall, with her head on the A/C vent, or, in the dining room on the cool vinyl floor, in front of her little fan.

Friday morning Patty was better but in obvious pain/discomfort.
She spent the morning going from place to place in the house, trying to find a comfortable place/position.
She was sleep for a while in each spot then have to get up and find another spot.
She even went to places she has never slept before - head under my bed, under my keyboard, in the gym room, in the back storage/workshop room.

Sometime at mid-morning Patty drank some water.
This was a good sign as she had gone over 24 hours with out drinking anything.
When she woke up from her noon nap, she nibbled at her food.
More good.
And when I scratched her, her tail responded with more enthusiasm.

By Friday evening, Patty was eating small snacks every couple of hours.
I responded by giving her some roast turkey bits along with her dry dog food.

Saturday morning Patty wanted out at 4:30 AM - her usual time.
I let her go out and went back to bed for few minutes before I needed to get up for my weekly run.

THE RUN

I felt tired Saturday morning.
I knew that I would break no records during this mornings jog but that was of little concern to me.
The big deal was to finish the whole distance with no stops or injuries.
That goal was accomplished, but not without some challenges.
First, my tiredness wanted part of me to whine about how hard this was.
The firm, consistant answer to that was "shut up and run".
And run we did, even though I was forced into Level 3 breathing for the last third of the party.

Second, was my left leg.
It had some muscle/nerve/connection problem that made each step chirp some undefined complaint.
It felt like a neurological issue except that there was some low-level pain in there also.
Every time I moved my leg forward to take the next step, there was a vague pain around my Sartorius muscle upper connection. (the muscle that lifts the leg forward toward the body.)
Or some place near there.
And as I placed my foot and the weight of my body transfered to my left leg, my thigh muscles acted like they did not want to support my weight.
A precursor to my left leg collapsing.
Not good.
That is the bad news.

The good news is that I finished my four-mile run with no problems.
No stopping.
No collapsing.
No broken parts.
Woo hoo.

Patty - Day 3 Post Op

Patty was much better today.
Her tail was up to at least 90% full wag.
She was hungry and more playful/responsive.
I cooked her an egg to go with her dog food, for breakfast.
She went outside a few times and barked a few times (her first utterances since being sliced upon).
She slept more comfortably and could not get enough food.
All good signs.

The day was not without its troubles.
Patty trangressed the Tradition of the Elders - twice - this afternoon.
She dove into the kitchen trash can and stole the egg shells from this mornings breakfast.
For this, she was banished to the back yard.

Thirty minutes later, she fished something else out of the same can to sniff/lick/taste.
Out to the back yard she went again.

When I invited her back inside a few minutes later, she refused.
She wanted to enjoy the 104 degree heat.
She would show me.

After about an hour, she requested entry to the coolatorium.
Which I granted.
It appears we are still friends.

Patty n Me - Day 2

We slept better last night - about 6 hours.
She spent the night in the narrow (24 inch)space between my bed and the wall.
She seemed to do a lot less scratching during the night.

I put her out when I went running at 5:30.
She was a bit stressed but hopeful.
When I returned an hour or so later, Patty was glad to see me (duh).

THE RUN

The run itself was a total success (again - I am spoiled with blessings)
Because of my lack of sleep, I felt tired from the time we woke up at 4:30 AM.
I let Patty out but she seemed to have no urgency in her.
She came in and I went back to bed hoping to doze off for a little while before my "official" wake up time of 5 AM.
The time came too soon and I was not ready.
I would have slept-in another half hour but I wanted to get done what I planned to do.
So I got up and began the day.

From my first steps on the course I could feel the tiredness in me. (does that make sense? Do we "feel" what is not in us or just what remains?)
But my strategy was, as always, do what I can do.
So I did.

The session really did not go that badly.
The long uphill was a challenge but not significantly more than other times.
In fact, I did better than I have at other times (faster breathing, etc)
On the return loop a part of me flirted with the thought of "stop and walk for a minute or two".
Ego, Runner, Coach, and Running Central, all said "no" to that idea.
Tired equals slower, not, stop and walk.
So I finished my weekly four-mile loop in good shape. (no pains, no injuries, no stops)

PATTY

After a shower, we had breakfast together and she did not eat all I gave her.
That brought flashbacks of dark events 8 weeks ago.
She was also very calm/sleepy lying on the kitchen floor on her side.
More concern.
But my worries were unfounded, it seems.

I ate my eggs and let her lick the plate.
She liked that and was obviously surprised.
While I washed the dishes, Patty took turns laying on the cool kitchen
floor and playing with her new tennis ball in the back room.

Then, after doing the dishes, I let her out in the backyard again.
This time, the neighbor dogs were out and started to yap.
Patty seemed to want to play with them (a first in my seeing).
She was galloping around the yard when I left her.
I went food shopping (including a 50 p bag of dog food...)

When I returned, she was lying in the shade next to the fence and did
not hear me.
I unloaded the car then let fur-face in.
After everything was put away, I decided to take her for a short walk
to do some more leash training.

The walk was a slow affair.
I had to let her test/examine every new bark and smell and sound.
And she has to learn to come around each telephone pole and mailbox on
my side (as Sally did so amazingly).
We went around the smallest, nearest block, as I had planned.
I did not intend for this to be an extended session.
She needs to get used to a lot of stuff - me, the leash, the noises,
dogs, smells of the neighborhood, etc.
It just will take some time.

A highlight of our walk was when she allowed a neighbor lady to pet her.
Patty was VERY cautious at first, but within two or three minutes,
scratches were being received.
The lady has a rescue dog, as well, so she knows the drill.

Tomorrow will be a test because I will be gone for almost four hours at church.
Patty may not know how long because she cannot read a clock.

Interesting factoid - Patty came to the shelter the same week Sally
died - four days apart.

THE FIRST NIGHT WITH PATTY

I don't know if this is going to work.

My nights sleep amounted to about three or four hours.
Hers must have been about the same.
At midnight she seemed like she wanted to play.
Midnight is not my play time.

She loves my attention. (duh).
She does not lick me - not face, not hands - she nuzzles with her
nose. (using her nose, she wiggled it into my relaxed hand and moved
my fingers so that I would scratch her)
She does not jump up on me, but does lift her front paw to get my attention.
She has laid down on her side/back and allowed me to rub her chest and
tummy - which she seems to LOVE.
She seems a bit hyper at times and when I rub her tummy, I do it very
slowly, which seems to calm her.
She is not as ticklish as Sally - very little hind leg kicking when I
pet various parts.


Patty is a sweet dog.
But....
She has some issues.

1 - she cannot stand to be away from me.
If I leave her alone in the back yard for longer than five minutes,
she tries to get out.
I have seen her trying to climb over my low gate (to go where?)

2 - she is hot natured.
She pants like a freight train (steam).
All night.
I fixed a little fan for her in the dining room and she laid in front
of it for a few minutes off and on, but she preferred to sleep next to
my bed.
I turned on the ceiling fan for us, which, no doubt, helped a little.

3 - She has allergies.
Evidently, Patty is allergic to my carpet. (or something....)
She spent the night gnawing and scratching herself.
At first I thought it was left-over fleas but her fur is pure white
down to her pink and tan skin.
I have not seen a single flea on her.
When she is in the kitchen for a while or outside, she does not scratch as much.

It occurred to me this morning that Patty may be an "Inside" dog.

Sally was an outside dog from her third day with me as a puppy.
She liked being inside with me, but she was happy to play and sleep in
the backyard all day and night, hot, cold, rain, snow, whatever, with just visits inside at meal time.
This was changing (spending more time inside as she matured), but I
think she would have always preferred to be outside most of the time.

Patty is very well behaved inside.
She does not try to climb on the furniture/bed, she does not try to
play with my clothes, she has not wet or plopped in the house (yet).

More later.

Testing The Waters For A New Dog

No, I have not died.
Just busy, and not much to say.

What follows is my report to my sister on my visit to a rescue kennel to inquire about a Great Pyrenees dog.
…...................................

I just got back from the SPCA Kennel in Pisgah, Alabama.
It is about 80 miles away.
I met "Perl". (her name given by the kennel).
I went into her "cage" and sat on the floor by the gate, Perl stayed
outside in her little area.
She wagged her tail tentatively but would not come closer than about 12 feet.
She has a very raspy bark, but did not bark very much.
The manager/lady gave me some doggy snacks to use to entice Perl to
come nearer to me.
I sat there for about an hour and she (the dog) would come no closer
to me than about three feet, and then only to quietly pick up the
treat and take it outside to eat it.

Finally, I gave up.
The dog was obviously sweet and wanted to engage, but was scared or
shy and was uncomfortable around me/stranger/male(?).
If I lived closer and could come over every day or so for a week, I
felt that we could gradually bond, but that was not possible with the
distance as it is.

The manager offered to bring the dog into the lobby.
I agreed.
She said I would have to help her carry the big dog through the rear
kennel area to the lobby.
I agreed (suspicious that the dog, who did not want to engage me alone
would allow me to touch her and carry her hind end).
But the dog allowed us to pick her up and carry her into the lobby
with no problems.

Once she was in the lobby she was a different dog.
Her tail wagged off and on, she sniffed around a bit (there were
several cats in cages in there).
The lady broke out some kind of doggy snack that looked like a baby
hot dog. (different from what she gave me in the kennel)
She fed Perl a couple of bites then she gave it to me and I broke off
a bite and offered it to the dog.
She ate it out of my hand immediately.

Soon, Perl was allowing me to pet her (gently) all over her. (head,
ears, neck, chest, back, hips, etc)
She had a serious case of fleas, but was otherwise in good shape.
She does NOT like a leash and wants to pull away when one gets put on her.
But Perl was well behaved even when distressed.
She reminds me of Sally in her coloring.
I told the lady that I wanted to think about whether to take her or not.

In anticipation of a possible transfer, the lady took Perl into the
washing area to give her a bath (she needed it...)
Just before she took the dog into the wash area, Perl was standing
next to me, with her head pressing against the side of my leg,
allowing me scratch her head and ears. (was this a "bond"?)
While the lady sprayed the shampoo on the dog, she stood quietly in the wash area,
enduring her bath.

I am scared to take this animal.
I am not sure why.
It is clear that she needs some training and some time to adjust from
a bad beginning, but she is clearly a sweet animal with a calm
disposition.
I argue with myself - what's not to like?
All we need is some time.

As much as I wanted to treat Sally right, I feel a double
responsibility to rehabilitate "Perl" if I were to adopt her.
We do not know all that she went through as a puppy other than she was starved.
At the best, she was just neglected.
She has no scars to indicate any worse treatment.
This weighs on me - irrationally, I suspect.
The good news is, dogs don't expect much others.
…..................................

Stay tuned....

Status Revision

The Run

The run this morning was interesting.
I did not get as winded as I have the last two sessions – meaning going into level three breathing in the first half mile.
….....................
Level 1 = normal, every-day breathing rhythm – a breath every two or three seconds.
Level 2 = preferred running breathing rate of one in and out cycle every four steps.
Level 3 = accelerated breathing rate of one in and out every three steps.
Level 4 = all out panting reserved for emergencies, and short end-of-race sprints of one minute or less.
…........................
I know you all wanted to know that.

So today I was able to hold my breathing to a more comfortable rate which MAY mean that I was stronger that the last two weeks.
Assuming this is so, I do not know why it is so.
I have not felt sick or “weak”.
The previous two weeks performance MAY have been an Indication of the stress I was feeling because of 1) the death of my dog, and/or 2) looking for a job.
While I was not conscious of any exceptional stress during that time, it was there.
Which begs the question, Why was this session any different/better?
To which I reply, I don't know.

My dog is still dead and I am still unemployed.
Starting a new job is even more stressful than being unemployed, methinks.
So, why the improved performance?
I don't know.

There is one possible motivator – the Cotton Row race is this coming monday.
While that could easily be intimidating to me, it is also exciting.
I have been watching my diet all this past week, cutting down on my carb intake to diminish my abdominal flab a bit.
Even though my practice course today does not cover any of the roads that the 5K race will cover on Monday, I still thought about the race today.
The other good news is, no body parts squawked today.
There were a few minor mumblings from left foot, knee and hip in the first quarter mile, but all of these hushed up as we all got warmed up.

Speaking of warmed up – weather was mid-60s and a bit humid.
While it is not “ideal” running weather, I prefer it to 15 degrees with a 20 mph head-wind and sleet falling on me in the dark.
So I would rather sweat than have freezing nose/hands/ears/toes.

ON THE DOG FRONT

What is a dog front?
Never mind.
I have a method for dealing with my passions/desires sometimes.
If I find myself wanting something for a long enough period of time, I get tired of arguing with myself about it.
I may make a list of the pros and cons of such a purchase/project, or I may write a scenario of my life with the desired object/circumstance.
And sometimes I take some preliminary steps to actually acquire the desired item.

This last step may seem like a temptation, but it is actually a measured step to snap the imaginary desire to have the item with a dose of reality.
Such as, if I wanted a particular new car.
One way to kill the desire is to go test drive the car and talk with the sales person, and see the BIG numbers on the sticker in the window.
Thus, the realization that I cannot afford the new toy will sink in and my desire will cool.
I have done this similar method before and it works for me.

So, for the last week, I have been debating about whether to get another dog.
I even went online and found two candidates within 30 miles or so.
Both of these dogs are in shelters and are full-grown.
I pondered and argued with myself for several days over this.
So yesterday I called one of the shelters to inquire about one of the dogs.
I found out the details of the animal and the cost to adopt ($150).
I told the lady that I would think about a visit.
That ended my curiosity.

The truth is, I cannot afford another dog.
I am unemployed and have small chance at landing a job at my age (67).
If I do not find something, I may have to file for bankruptcy before the end of the year.
Not complaining, just stating a fact.

I am now deathly afraid that any new dog I get will also get sick and die.
I do not have the income to pay for more doctor bills.
The dog now lying in the hole in my back yard cost me $450 and died 34 hours after the doctor gave her a clean bill of health.
I dread going through the emotional trauma of another loss like I just went through.

If I DO get a job, it will reduce my free time, which I need to spend (some) with the new dog.
I cannot get a dog and then leave it alone in my back yard all the time.
That is not fair to the animal.
What is the point of that?
But I still have that one percent desire/interest of getting another dog.
That is my heart speaking.
My head says, no.
No way.
For many reasons.

We will see who wins.

The One Percent Decison

I promise I will not keep boring both of you with this topic but I need to purge a few last thots about it.

As I noted in an earlier blog, just a few seconds after Sally died, the thot came to my mind, “this is my last dog”.
I was not crying then, or even grieving at that moment. (that would come a few minutes later...)
I was as coldly lucid as I have ever been in my life.
I was tending to my friend as a doctor and friend.
Observing every detail of her last minutes of life, trying to comfort her as much as possible.

I did not dwell on it then, but I have had some time to ponder the thot since then (and my subconscious dreams have worked through more of the possible scenarios and details, it seems).
In addition, several of the well-wishers who have stopped by or otherwise expressed kind thots and feelings to me, have asked if I plan to get another dog.
To all I have said, no.

Would I LIKE another dog?
Under certain conditions – yes.
Do I NEED another dog?
No.
Do I WANT another dog?
No. (not in my present or foreseeable circumstances)

This is not a decision made out of bitterness or anger or emotional distress of the moment.
It is coldly logical.
All of the reasons why I did not want a dog in the first place last year, still hold – small yard, lack of time to devote to the animal, etc.
I love animals in general, I love dogs in particular, and I love them enough to want to avoid placing them in circumstances that will make them uncomfortable, unhappy or unhealthy.
And now that I am looking for a full time job (again...) I will have less time to devote to an animal, should I be successful in that quest.

And I have told some that this is a 99 percent firm decision.
The one percent is to allow me to change my mind at some point in the future.
Maybe.

But my subconscious mind, it seems, has already run several scenarios for the one percent decision.
It has been only as my conscious mind probed some questions related to this topic that I discovered that I already had come to some conclusions about them.

Here they are:

Scenario 1

I wake up one day (or come home from work/errand/church) and find a large, open box on my door step with a puppy in it.
Donor - unknown.
I can choose to keep the little creature or I can take it to the Huntsville Animal Services office and let them deal with it.
Outcome depends on my situation at the time of discovery.

Scenario 2

I wake up one day (or come home from work/errand/church) and find a dog lying (alive) on my porch, in my yard, etc. tail tentatively wagging.
This could be a small puppy, an older puppy, or a full-grown dog.
Circumstances for the arrival of the animal – unknown.
I can choose to keep the creature, seek to find its owner or I can take it to the Huntsville Animal Services office and let them deal with it.
Outcome depends on my situation at the time of discovery.

Scenario 3

I go to the Huntsville Animal Services office (which is about three miles from my house...) to seek a new dog for my yard and life.
This is done simply out of desire to have a new fuzzy friend.
The new animal could be a puppy or a more mature animal depending on how the introductions go at the animal facility.
Sometimes you know right away, other times, you take a chance and the relationship develops over time.
This would only be done if my life situation allowed me to devote the proper amount of time and effort to training/caring for the animal.

Scenario 4

I contact the same people who provided Sally the Dog, contract for another animal from the next litter and get a more-or-less exact replacement for the big white dog I used to have.
This, knowing that no two dogs are ever the same, even of the same breed, even from the same mother, even from the same litter.
So I know from the this moment that no other dog will be an exact replica of Sally.
I am under no delusions about this.
We will learn each other and develop a relationship based on how our personalities interact.
The new dog will be named Patty.

Frankly, I am amazed that my mind has constructed each of these possibilities without my authorization.
If you were to call me delusional, I would not argue.

Below are the last pictures of me and my dog.