SheltieTales

We’re baaaaaack…

SheltieJim — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 22:44:15 +0000

Well, we’re finally back from our trip. As planned, we spent two days driving to Louisiana to spend three days with Jim’s mother, who’s 95 years old. We left there on 31 July and drove the remaining 850 miles to Clearwater Beach, FL in one longish day. The next 19 days were spent doing a lot of work on the boat (including scrubbing and sterilizing the fresh water tanks, which were affected by an algal growth so bad that the dogs wouldn’t drink the water!) and several day sails.

And, yes, Abby went sailing with us…three times. On the first sail, she did pretty well, but was a bit anxious (understandable, as this was a completely new experience for her). The second sail, which included Abby and Peyton (who’d travelled with us to Florida to be adopted there), was a bit rough and the dogs were flung about the cabin a bit too much for comfort; needless to say, they didn’t have much fun. The third sail on which Abby joined us was really perfect. There was good wind, calm seas, and it wasn’t terribly, terribly hot. I think she actually enjoyed herself.

Sheltie rescue work didn’t stop while we were gone, however. All sorts of things happened, including new dogs coming in and rescues having medical problems. We mostly thought that everything was under control, but we were seriously wrong!

First, a new rescue named Smokey came into the program from the local humane society exhibiting signs of kennel cough. He was treated (both at the human society and at Cottonwood Animal Clinic) and spent a coupld of days at Julene’s house. Unfortunately (we don’t think, and fervently hope, that it’s unrelated!), one of Julene’s earlier rescues passed away during the night and she was (obviously!) distraught, so Smokey was moved to another foster home. A coupld of days later, the other foster called us to say that Smokey was coughing up blood, so he took the poor boy over to Cottonwood, where they tried diligently to discover what the problem was. As they were preparing to X-ray his lungs, Smokey died!

Then we got the phone call from hell. Our “petsitter” called to say that Jasper (who weighs about 65 pounds!) had falled off the ramp we installed to help the older kids get down to the yard and back into the house and broken his leg! Of course, we said to rush him to Cottonwood immediately. Well, when he got there, they found that he had not, in fact, broken his leg. But that was the only good news. Instead, he was heavily infested with maggots!!! They were crawiling around all under the skin of his left shoulder and leg! He was immediately hospitalized and they operated on him to remove the maggots and “plenty of necrotic tissue”!! And that’s when things started to get really bad. Breathing problems erupted (he was turning cyanotic and had very labored breathing). Eventually, they diagnosed pneumonia, but suspected some additional heart problems that seem to not really be present. So, here we are upon our return to Utah with poor Jasper in the hospital for two weeks (and a vet bill rapidly approaching $5,000!!!!!) with a huge open wound on his left shoulder/leg (from the surgery) that they can’t close up because they don’t think he would survive being anesthetized, a gaping hole in his left elbow from an ulcer that had been allowed to run amock that they can’t close up (same reason), major breathing problems, and almost no ability to stand up because of weakness and grotesque obesity (with which he had originally come to us).

But then we saw our house.

The floors of several rooms (the dog’s food room, the family room, the kitchen and dining area, the office, and the master bedroom) were covered in feces and urine that had been ground into the carpets and wood floors because of people just walking through it without cleaning it up. A large piece of one of our couches (about 8″ by 18″) had been ripped apart and partially eaten (the claim was that Jodee had done it in “just a couple of minutes while I was out of the room”). The oven has cheese baked into most of its surface, the microwave was filthy, the shower was filthy, there were fast-food drink straws all in the bed, … hell, I can’t go on. It’s just too depressing. There’s probably several thousand dollars of damage done to our house and property. And the “petsitter” just didn’t understand why we were upset!

So, the relaxation and pleasure we had from our trip to the boat expired instantly upon our return, and we’ve spent the weekend and today just trying to make the house liveable.

Sigh…

Not Only Survive But THRIVE!

Patti and De Boys — Thu, 05 Aug 2010 16:21:45 +0000

I had been looking at the Sheltie Rescue of Utah website for months and had been too late to adopt several dogs. When this picture was emailed to me,

I fell in love immediately. It broke my heart to know this beautiful little girl had been living on the streets in sub-zero weather, dragging around a broken leg that she couldn’t use! When she came to SRU, everyone was amazed she had survived on her own, given the shape she was in. I was so inspired by her tragic story and amazing spirit to survive because I am a survivor, too. Several years before, I was diagnosed with brain cancer. Despite a dicey diagnosis and with lots of love and support, I beat the odds.

I was drawn at a very deep level to share Chloe’s WILL TO LIVE and overcome obstacles. Because her leg had been broken in several places and not attended to, the vet felt amputation was the best option for her. The amazing people at SRU saw to her surgery and her recovery. Then, it was time for Chloe and me to meet. Chloe was very timid when my husband and I met her. She slowly warmed up to me when I sat on the floor with her. Finally, she let me touch her. Even though I knew there was a special connection between us, she was so shy when she first came to live with us. She would put her head in a corner and pretend if she couldn’t see us – we couldn’t see her. Chloe bonded with our other dog, Rustler, first. She looks up to our Border Collie like a little sister looks up to a big brother. She follows him everywhere! When they lie down, she likes to lie so she is touching him. Slowly, my husband and I became her humans. A few months after she came to live with us, we planned a boating trip with friends. She loved the boat, beach and the kids! She became best friends with a five year old girl. Since then, these two fast friends have had many happy times together. Today Chloe gets around great – because of her amazing fur coat people don’t even notice she has only three legs. She has changed my life and opened my heart to so many possibilities.

I hope to share our story of beating the odds by training with Chloe as a therapy animal team. I want people to see that, despite the odds; you can not only survive, but THRIVE!

Susan and Chloe Hamada

Draper, Utah

Sheltie Rescue of Utah has entered this story into the HEARTWARMING STORY CONTEST being conducted by The Animal Rescue Site. Susan thank you for sharing your story with us and the world.

Here is the link to the submitted story: http://www.theanimalrescuesite.com/clickToGive/ps/3/gchogizftlzktpz5ycb4

Win $10,000, $5,000, or $1,000 for Sheltie Rescue of Utah — please!

BluvsJ — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 00:09:56 +0000

Go to this link

http://www.petfinder.com/best-pet-parent-contest/enter?utm_source=sponsor&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=bpp2

…and tell your story about why you’re the best pet Mom or Dad and submit it with a photo. The write-up must be 500 words or less. Go! Fight! Win! Thank you so very much for taking the time to do this.

- Barbara

Abby’s Going Sailing

SheltieJim — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 19:39:20 +0000

Near the end of July, we’re going to take a trip to Florida to visit our 40-foot sailboat, Dream SeQuel. For a variety of reasons, we’ve decided that we’re going to drive! It’s “only” 2400 or 2500 miles The major reason we’re driving is that renting a car for three weeks while we’re there begins to approach a thousand dollars, and that’s a bunch of money every time we go. So we’re going to leave the car there and fly home. We’ve found a safe place to leave the car — at the home of a friend-of-a-friend, who will start the car and drive it around the block about once a week, to ensure the battery doesn’t run down, the fuel doesn’t gel, and the tires don’t get flat spots on them — at a very reasonable cost. The secondary reason for driving is that my mother, who lives in southwest Louisiana, is 95 years old and probably won’t be around a lot longer. We’re going to stop and visit her for three days, which might be the last time we get to do so.

All in all, we’ll spend two days driving to Louisiana, three days there, and another day driving the rest of the way to Clearwater Beach. MapQuest.com, maps.google.com, and our portable GPS all claim the driving should take about 41 hours, plus or minus. Splitting that over three days of driving means an average of 14 hours each day, which is just fine by me…I love road trips and love driving for hours at a stretch.

Because we’re driving, it occurred to us that we might take Abby with us to see whether she likes the idea of being on a boat. She’s not the first of our personally-adopted Shelties (that would be Star, but Star’s got a lot of anxiety about too many things and we think she would be miserable) or the most active (Jodee is into everything all the time, but she’s too puppyish and insufficiently trained). But Abby is brave, adventurous, and trusting. And we’re going to buy her a life vest just her size, so she’ll be safe in case she does fall into the water.

I’m really excited to see how she does on the boat itself, but also to take her into the water with me and teach her to swim (both with and without her life vest). It’s also going to be interesting to fly her home with us. We are hopeful that we can take her inside the cabin with us rather than check her as baggage, especially because of temperature problems (the airlines can…or are supposed to…refuse to fly a dog if the local temperature is above 80°F, and we can’t risk having her left behind at Tampa or some intermediate airport). But we don’t know if she’s small enough to qualify…plus we’ll have to get an appropriate crate for inside the plane.

We’ll let you all know how everything goes, just as soon as it happens!

Medication Fright

SheltieJim — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 18:35:55 +0000

I’m writing this post several days after everything has returned to normal, in part because I was a bit emotional about the situation while it was in progress.

A couple of weeks ago, big Sheltie boy Copper (who is as big as a largish Collie and deaf) was having bloody diarrhea. It seemed consistent with giardiasis, which had been brought into the house (and yard) by Tigger, the puppy who’d been with us for only a few weeks. Diarrhea is, of course, hard on one’s system and we didn’t want to risk Copper getting dehydrated; it’s also hard on the carpets when a dog doesn’t get outside in time, and it’s easy for the yard to get continuously re-contaminated and causing infections in other dogs.

Consequently, we jumped right onto the situation to get it under control as quickly as possible. We started Copper on a regime of metronidazole (generic for Flagyl®), which is a recommended antibiotic (which we stock because of its broad usage) for a number of intestinal infections, including giardia. He seemed to improve over the next day or two, but both Barbara and I sort of vaguely noticed (without mentioning it to one another!) that Copper seemed slightly “out of it”, maybe a little awkward or clumsy. We didn’t think too much about it (which is probably why we didn’t say anything to one another about it) until about the third day when he was clearly and significantly ataxic!

Ataxia is, of course, the word used to describe loss of coordination of muscle movements. In this case, it manifested itself as a very wobbly and uncertain walk and difficulty in standing. Poor Copper finally laid down (“collapsed” is only a slight overstatement) and couldn’t get back up. Now, most of you haven’t met Copper, so you don’t know that he’s got this fully little head tilt that we think might be related to his deafness — the vet thinks that both may have been caused by an encounter with a car when he (Copper, not the vet) was about a year old. Well, his head tilt was noticeably worse, and his limb movements became very jerky and he got a bit rigid. In short, he was not doing well at all!

These symptoms are known side effects of a metronidazole overdose! Fortunately (well, unfortunately, in a different way), we’d seen this before. Some years ago, we’d actually given an overdose of metronidazole to Annie, an ancient and abused Sheltie we’d rescued from down in St. George. She had similar symptoms, so it was familiar, but also quite scary. Naturally, we immediately stopped giving Copper the medication. A little research revealed that he’d been getting a 33% overdose for a couple of days. That’s not horrible, but apparently he is somewhat sensitive to that medication.

Now, most of us would think that a dog would start to improve…or, minimally, not get any worse…when you stop giving him the thing that’s causing the problems. Not so… By that evening, he was significantly worse. I was seriously wondering if we were going to lose him. Naturally, it was Friday evening after Cottonwood Animal Hospital had gone to emergency room hours (and costs). Barbara phoned them, but the ER vet on duty was somebody with whom we’d never worked and she wouldn’t give us the time of day over the phone. (Side note: I guess that’s not unreasonable, since the vet didn’t know us, but we’re used to dealing with vets at Cottonwood who know us and our experience level and are thus willing to give advice based on our descriptions, etc.)

To avoid the much-higher costs of taking a dog to the ER, and because we’d had experience with this problem before (and because Barbara was doing extensive research about this problem on the web), we decided to keep Copper at home. We knew that the medicine would gradually, over three to six or seven days, leave his bloodstream, and Barbara’s web research uncovered the fact that phenobarbitol (yes, the anti-seizure medication) was reported to help detox from metronidazole overdose! Who would have guessed? And, yes, we stock phenobarb because of the various seizure dogs we’ve had over the years.

So we started giving Copper subclinical doses of phenobarb, which really did seem to help. It’s less that it seemed to remove the metronidazole from his bloodstream than it controlled the neurological effects of the metronidazole and reduced his ataxia and other symptoms.

Recall that I mentioned above that Copper is Collie-sized? That includes his weight, roughly 30 kilograms (65 pounds). No way could Barbara pick him up, and it was incredibly difficult for me to lift his dead weight while he was lying down. And he couldn’t stand! Obviously, I couldn’t hold him in an appropriate position outside for him to pee or poop, so for a couple of days, we had no choice but to allow him to just pee where he was lying on the floor Poor guy…he was extremely unhappy about that, but we put him on a pad that would protect the floor and carpet.

After a couple of days, he was able to sort of pull himself into a sitting position, so I did pick him up and carry him outside. When I set him down on the ground, he was actually able to (barely) stand for a few seconds while he peed, and I snatched him back up before he collapsed into the puddle he’d just made. Back inside onto his pad he went. The next day, same thing, twice…and on the first time, he was able to take a couple of steps without collapsing. Next day, more of the same, but he could walk a little bit more. Still, he wasn’t willing to tackle walking down the ramp or back up it to get back into the house, so I continued to carry him in and out. By the day (Wednesday) I had to leave for a 2-day business meeting in California, he was clearly on his way to recovery, but I was still carrying him in and out, although he could manage to pee and poop by himself while outside.

When I got to my hotel Wednesday night and phoned Barbara, she had the superb news that Copper had actually been able to walk outside, do his business, and walk back in. He was, she said, still a bit wobbly, but clearly much better. By the time I got home late Friday night, Copper was almost 100% back to normal…just a little extra head tilt and a slight tendency to get tired and have to lie down more often than normal. And, by today (Monday, July 5), he appears to be completely normal, like it never happened.

Poor guy! We tried to help him overcome one problem (diarrhea) and created another, rather scary, problem. He was clearly scared about what was going on, but he trusted us to do the right thing for him and he let us do what had to be done. He was such a good boy about the whole thing, and obviously grateful that we were willing to carry him in and out.

Lesson learned! Check the dosing very carefully before giving medications! And know your dogs’ weights!!

Oh, and to make matters really frustrating…we finally concluded that poor Copper’s diarrhea wasn’t caused by giardia after all, but that he’d picked up coccidia (which also came into our house courtesy of Tigger). And coccidia should be treated with sulfadimethoxine (generic for Albon®), not metronidazole.

Does Your Dog Chew His/Her Nails?

SheltieJim — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 23:39:09 +0000

Here’s another gem I got from one of the various Sheltie lists to which I belong. I’m not sure that I agree with everything the writer says, or if she covered all aspects of the subject, but I thought it was worth our readers’ attention. What do you think about this subject?

Pet Nail Biting: Necessity or Worrisome Behavior?

While most pets don’t indulge in vices such as smoking or drinking, some animals share one seemingly unhealthy behavior with humankind: nail biting. Whether your pet is a chronic nail muncher, or just takes an occasional chew, here’s what you should know.

Why Pets Chew Their Nails

According to Christina Shusterich, Canine Behavior Counselor and president of NY Clever K9, Inc., cats bite their nails as part of a grooming routine. They do this “in order to clean them, as well as to get rid of the older, outer sheath of the nail.” This often occurs when a cat’s nails are overgrown and could use a trim.

Nail chewing in dogs, however, is not normal. They may bite their nails “from itchiness due to allergies or an infection. They could also be biting out of boredom or anxiety.” Excessive nail biting by either cats or dogs can be harmful, as it can “cause bleeding, irritation, and infections,” says Shusterich.

Dealing With The Problem

There are several steps you may want to try to take care of excessive nail chewing.

Diagnosing the Cause: It’s always good to check with the vet when your animal exhibits obsessive behavior to see if there could be an underlying medical cause. But if you think your dog or cat is bored, anxious or has simply irritated his skin so much that he can’t stop working it, then there are a few things you might want to try.

Deterring the Behavior: An anti-itch spray paired with a head cone can help ease skin irritation and keep the pet from further abrading it, giving the skin time to heal. “A good over-the-counter anti-itch spray with a taste deterrent is called Lido-Med,” says Shusterich.

Distracting the Pet: Bored nail biters can benefit from interactive puzzles and toys to keep their minds off their chewing. According to Shusterich, “Providing catnip for cats and hiding it in several toys can help entice them to search and play.” Similarly, hiding a peanut-butter-filled Kong toy keeps dogs busy and “reduces anxiety by boosting your dog’s confidence in providing a regular activity in line with his nature, and a job he is performing successfully on a daily basis.”

Diminishing the Anxiety: Aerobic exercise is an essential component to reducing stress and this may also help reduce nail biting. Shusterich recommends “15 minutes of playing with your cat and 15 minutes of aerobic activity in addition to your dog’s walks” to keep your pet calm throughout the day, thereby reducing their anxious impulse to gnaw on their nails.

And If Your Pet Is Still Biting?
If you haven’t consulted your veterinarian yet, go ahead and call. There may be easily treatable allergies or even serious medical issues that the vet can help resolve.

What I Learned At The Dog Show

SheltieJim — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 23:22:25 +0000

I got this from one of the Sheltie mailing lists to which I subscribe and thought it would be of interest to our readers. It’s probably copyrighted, so I’ll point you to the original location and ask that you at look at it there: http://humanewatch.org/index.php/site/post/what_i_learned_at_the_dog_show/

The original article has some cute photos that accompany it, but I think it’d be going too far for me to copy those into this post. Sorry!

After the last paragraph of the article, I’ve inserted some of my own comments. Read ‘em if you want to, ignore ‘em if you don’t!

What I Learned At The Dog Show

I spent this weekend at the Myrtle Beach kennel Club’s all-breed dog show in Florence, South Carolina. The club invited me down to talk about the threats its members are facing from the Humane Society of the United States and the rest of the animal rights movement. Since I had never been to a dog show, I said yes. (I grew up thinking that “fancy” was an adjective. Silly me.)

I’m not a big fan of people who pooh-pooh things they’ve never tried or seen up-close. If one of my children says she “doesn’t like” something on the dinner table before taking even a tiny bite—well, let’s just say that doesn’t wash in my house.

And I’ve always thought the whole “dog show” community was rather mysterious, a kind of benevolent secret society with its own rules, customs, and vocabulary. Sorta like Deadheads, but with a lot better grooming and a lot less fleas.

Truth be told, the dog breeders I met this weekend do have their own peculiar ways of saying and doing things. But they’re really just ordinary people with a shared hobby. They’re really into what they do. And they taught me a lot in just a Saturday. Here’s some of what I learned.

——-

When you go to a dog show, bring your own chair. But don’t be surprised if someone offers to lend you theirs. (I’m typing this in someone else’s customized, embroidered lawn chair.)
Dog shows are competitive, but the people involved are remarkably supportive of their human opponents. I heard a steady stream of “congratulations!” offered to blue-ribbon holders from handlers who were trotting away empty-handed.
If you’re a first-timer who asks “what kind of dog is that?” too loudly, somebody might look at you funny.
These people treat their dogs like royalty. It was 90 degrees in the shade on Saturday, and the dogs had shade, electric fans, and cold water—even if their owners didn’t.
Judging from this weekend, the typical show-dog handler isn’t a stuffy Brit wearing Saville Row tweed. She—yes, she—is an energetic 40-year-old married mom whose husband packs up the kids and brings them along on the trip.
Sometimes the kids strut the dogs around the ring. The under-18 handlers even have their own judging category in which their skills are being judged, not the qualities of their dogs.
The name of the game is “conformation” (not “confirmation,” as I used to think). Dog show breeders are trying to breed animals that “conform” to a set ideal of how a breed can look, “gait,” and behave if they do everything right. (I read an article in Wired this week about how Cheetos in the factory are checked every 30 minutes against a “reference sample” from Frito-Lay headquarters, just to make sure the ideal color, texture, and crispiness is being matched. It’s kinda like that, but it takes years for these folks to make a single Cheeto. And Cheetos don’t pee on you.)
Watch where you step in the parking lot.

If this particular dog show is any indication of what’s typical, the “dog fancy” is a lot of fun for a lot of people who contribute a lot of money to the economy—and aren’t hurting anyone. “If we’re not having fun here,” one judge told me, very much off-the-cuff, “we shouldn’t be doing this.”

For the life of me, I can’t figure out why the Humane Society of the United States has such a visceral hatred of everything they stand for.

I think what’s going on is that HSUS, PETA, and other animal rights groups are conflating breeders whose main goal is to sell puppies with those who just happen to really love Pomeranians, Pinschers, or Poodles. This latter clique of people (far larger than the former) shows their favorite animals because they’re proud of them, not because they believe it will make their next litter worth more money.

It’s not hard to understand HSUS’s stated motivation for attacking people who breed dogs. The group wants everyone to believe that rampant pet overpopulation in America is all their fault. But personally, I just don’t see it.

I didn’t meet “puppy millers” this weekend. I met hobbyists, just like if I were at a model railroad convention, an antique fair, or a swim meet. They ask after each others’ kids. They visit each other in the hospital. They have knitting circles where the dogs watch approvingly. They’re 50 percent garden club, 50 percent church pot-luck. Zero percent animal abusers.

I asked one breeder how much money she had spent raising her champion dog, a mammoth Anatolian shepherd. “Who knows?” she answered. “I never really added it up. If you’re pinching pennies you probably aren’t treating the dog right.” In addition to the two purebred dogs she was showing, she had “two rescue mutts at home, and they have the same food, supplements, and everything else my show dogs get.”

And when I asked one of the veteran breeders how many of her peers raise dogs so they can sell the litters commercially, she looked at me like I was from Mars. “We all sell dogs, son,” she told me. “But none of us make a cent doing it. And I know where all my dogs live. If anyone can’t provide for them, we take ‘em back.” And then, almost as an afterthought: “I sure don’t want any of mine going to the pound or a rescue.”

Everyone I asked about this had the same kind of answer. If they found out that any of their puppies wound up in a shelter, they’d sure do something about it.

So why all the hostility from the Humane Society of the United States? Why did I hear from North and South Carolinians who had beaten back attempt after attempt from HSUS to have them taxed, registered, regulated, raided, and otherwise priced out of their hobby? What is it about these men, women, and children, so passionate about running up and down a concrete floor with their pets, that demands intervention from activists who think they know better?

Maybe it’s that HSUS thinks the only way to shut down “puppy mills” is to paint every dog breeder with the same broad brush. Maybe. I haven’t yet really wrapped my mind around why HSUS is opposed to everything I saw this weekend. I just know that it is.

As with pretty much every group of ranchers, dairymen, biomedical research scientists, and chicken farmers I’ve met, the breeders I spoke with this weekend had varying levels of awareness about the looming political threat from HSUS. Some of them can’t be bothered to be bothered. Others are fired up at the mere mention of Wayne Pacelle’s name.

“Somebody has to take that guy on,” one 50-ish man barked when I brought up the name of HSUS’s CEO. “That whole movement is nuts. After I showed up to lobby against HSUS’s last North Carolina breeder tax, I started getting calls in the middle of the night, untraceable phone calls, from these people saying they were going to come on my property, take my dogs, and burn my house down. I told ‘em my new rifle has an awesome night scope. That pretty much ended it.”

I spoke to the crowd after the Best In Show was awarded, in this case to a fluffy pekingese named “Noelle.” I told them that their problem is the same as the one faced by pork producers, egg farmers, dairymen, and even cancer researchers. But it was up to them to reach beyond their circle of friends—outside their comfort zone—if their kids and grandkids were going to keep being Junior Handlers and continue to raise the dog breeds they’ve come to love.

At the end of the day, I have to be skeptical of HSUS’s blanket condemnation of pet breeders. I’m confident that there are some horrible ones out there, as there are with any group of people (including animal activists…), but any legislative or cultural movement that lumps the people I met this weekend in with the bad actors is just plain wrong-headed.

Because the dogs I met in South Carolina were among the best-cared-for animals I’ve ever seen. Anyone who’s truly interested in animal welfare would want to make sure more dogs—not fewer—are treated this way. So how ’bout it, Wayne? Why aren’t you promoting dog shows?

Probably because you’ve never been to one.

——————————-

OK, this is Jim writing now. I’d like to comment on a few things that the author of the article said. First, though, let me say that I’m extremely impressed with the tone and perceptiveness of his article, and very pleased with his skepticism of HSUS and their fellow travelers.

I know that many (most?) of our readers have been to plenty of dog shows, so you already know that the observations the author made about how people are at dog shows are really true. People can be incredibly competitive, but they’re also (almost always) incredibly supportive of their competitors. The rare exceptions that I’ve witnessed were extremely ugly and the responsible people were usually disavowed by other people nearby.

What the author called “breeders whose main goal is to sell puppies” corresponds to what I tend to call “puppy mills,” much to the dismay of some people in ASSA. I guess it would be more appropriate to refer to them as “commercial breeders”, at least some of which treat their dogs abyssmally (but others of which treat their dogs as reasonably well as can be expected of a livestock operation).

The author also seems to think that HSUS “wants everyone to believe that rampant pet overpopulation in America is all their fault”. What he fails to state is that HSUS, along with their comrades-in-arms PETA and several other groups, wants to completely eliminate all human use of animals — including as pets — and will say or do anything that inches them closer to that goal. Perhaps that goal is so astonishingly far-fetched that he has trouble believing it?

In another paragraph, he says: And when I asked one of the veteran breeders how many of her peers raise dogs so they can sell the litters commercially, she looked at me like I was from Mars. “We all sell dogs, son,” she told me. “But none of us make a cent doing it…” That’s not a universal truth. I know some pretty serious and sincere Sheltie breeders who make a living (not getting rich, but a living) from their breeding. Their Shelties are highly respected and they are successful in the conformation ring. I have joked many times that “If you’re making money breeding dogs, you’re not doing it right”, but that (rightfully, I suppose) offends breeders who are both honest and careful breeders and who earn money from their kennels. Caveat emptor, fer sher.

OK, that’s my rant for today. Once again, I thank the author for a thoughtful, funny, educational piece on a piece of Americana (hell, “doggiana” would be more compelte). It’s refreshing to read something that’s on our side for a change!

I Slept With Jim Last Night!

BluvsJ — Fri, 18 Jun 2010 19:30:49 +0000

This post is going to be a mix of what’s new in Sheltie Rescue and what’s up with where we sleep at night.

First, here’s a photo of Jim with his new and improved knee! (It’s the naked one.)

Last night I slept upstairs in the bedroom with Jim and Tommy, Skyler, Lucky, Jill, Tigger, Star, Abby, Jodee, Peyton, Sparky, and Storm. Of course, Zen Cat was in the bedroom with us too. In bed with us were Jodee, Star, Abby, and Zen Cat. Storm kept getting up on the bed and looking at us but I asked him to get off and he did (he’s such a good boy!). For me it was great to be near Jim all night (at least until 6:00am) and to snuggle into our waterbed. Whenever I had a mini-awakening during the night, turning over or something, I kept thinking how good this felt.

I slept upstairs last night because today we’re getting two weekend guests…Kalvin and Buddy, who are Sheltie Rescue alumni. With this addition to our household it’ll be easier to manage everyone with most of them being near the door to the backyard — meaning I’ll be sleeping back on the couch again. We usually see Kalvin and Buddy several times a year.

It’s especially touching for me to see Kalvin for two reasons. Kalvin’s somewhere between 14 and 16 years and going strong. It’s great to see him doing so well at his advanced age. Secondly, Kalvin was saved by a woman named Iris. He had been brought to the Humane Society in SLC by his family and proceeded to nip people at the shelter. They knew he was just scared but it was getting difficult to keep him out of trouble (being euthanized)…so Iris found us and we agreed to help Kalvin right away. He was desperately in need of a dental and other medical attention all of which may have contributed to his ornery behavior. Iris has since passed away of lung cancer. But not before I came to love and respect her.

This is our new girl, Honey, who was turned over to us by the Humane Society. I sure wish in her case that we could find out who her vet was. She has a mass or tumor under her tail near the base of her tail. We’ve been told that she has skin allergies and needs cortisone injections because benadryl didn’t work. I’m not seeing skin allergies at least not in the form that I’m used to seeing them. I found the tumor and we’ll see what we can do about that when we visit with Dr. Cortisano at Cottonwood Animal Hospital on Saturday. What I do see on Honey is that she’s been licking her feet and her vaginal area so much that the hair in all these areas is deeply discolored. Her nails are way too long and could be causing discomfort for her feet resulting in licking. I don’t know if you can tell from the photo below but Honey is very overweight. She probably will weigh in at about 50 lbs.

The first night that Honey was here I thought I heard someone among the dogs throwing up. Most of what I heard turned out to be Honey licking herself so aggressively that she was making a lot of slurping sounds. In the morning I checked her mouth. Her teeth are in great shape. Her gums looked unusually red and they were sticky indicating that she was somewhat dehydrated. That surprised me because she’s eating meals just fine. It turns out that this was probably just related to her being stressed both by being at the shelter and then coming here and needing to adjust to us. I had already started her on an allergy diet having been told that she has skin allergies. She’s on Hills Science DD Duck and Potato with which I’ve had the best luck in dealing with allergies which can be extremely difficult to work with. Her appetite is very good. I tested her gums again later in the day and they were no longer sticky. So perhaps the stress of losing her home (she’s supposed to be 6 years old) combined with a lot of licking and panting dehydrated her somewhat. I think I brought her home on Tuesday.

To get my first photos of her I had to work hard. She didn’t want to stay still at all and she didn’t want to look at me. Here are some photos I got today of her sweet face and her discolored feet. The dark coloring on her feet is not natural dark color — it’s a dark stain from her saliva.

Sleeping Arrangements

SheltieJim — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 23:46:45 +0000

For a number of weeks now, Barbara and I have been sleeping on separate floors of our 3-story house. Most of the time, she sleeps on the couch in the family room on the main floor, while I (if I’m not out of town somewhere) usually sleep in the bedroom on the upper floor. We miss one another! It ain’t right…but it’s being done to help preserve our sanity and some shreds of sleep.

The problem is that we have a puppy and a bunch of not-completely-housebroken dogs living with us. And they tend to want to get up with the sun to go potty. We’d prefer them to go potty outside, not on our carpets or in their crates. But we don’t like getting up at “oh-dark-thirty” every morning.

So Barbara’s chosen to sleep downstairs with the majority of the dogs, which allows her to get up and let out those complaining the worst, then fall back asleep for a while longer. She might have to let two or three batches out, but she does manage to get a few extra winks of sleep between outings.

I’ve tried to alternate with her so she could get some nights in our comfortable waterbed, but the bloody couch is about four inches (10 cm) too short and I can’t stretch my legs out. I feel really badly about this, and am willing to sleep on the floor if necessary, but Barbara insists that she doesn’t mind (too much, at least) this arrangement.

When I go up at night, I take Star and Abby with me, as well as Tommy on most nights. Star usually sleeps on the floor next to the bed or on one of the big pillows we have positioned against the bed, while Abby sleeps on the bed somewhere fairly close, but not so close that my tossing and turning keeps her awake. Tommy really prefers to sleep near me (on the floor…he gets uncomfortable in the waterbed) when possible, although he will on rare occasions insist on sleeping downstairs with Barbara. Sparky often likes to go up with me, too, because he perceives being in the bedroom as a special privilege reserved for the best dogs. And, many nights, I like for Jodee to come up with me as well.

At first, Jodee wasn’t a good candidate for this, because she wasn’t very well housebroken. In fact, she still has an “accident” once in a while…probably when she hears other dogs going outside but she can’t get out of the bedroom, downstairs, and out with them. But more recently she’s been pretty reliable, so she gets to come up with me more often.

And she really loves it. At first, it bothered her that her puppy-buddy Tigger wasn’t nearby, and she thought maybe playing with toys was the point of the exercise. But lately she’s gotten the idea that sleeping next to her daddy on the waterbed’s a pretty good deal. Last night, she slept right next to my head; I could lean my face against her side or her hip for most of the night.

Still, I’ll be awfully glad when our numbers go back down (we’re at 19 today, expecting two more tomorrow, and more next week) and Barbara can move back upstairs to sleep in the same bed as me!!

Jim Has Fun While Getting Knee Fixed!

BluvsJ — Sat, 12 Jun 2010 19:00:49 +0000

Friday Jim went and got his knee repaired by Dr. Vernon Cooley in a short surgery, although, arriving there at 8:15am and leaving at 2:30pm would hardly seem short. The surgery itself was only about a 15 minute procedure. The preparation was much longer and recovery especially long because Jim, who wanted to stay awake and watch the surgery, was given a spinal anesthetic. This anesthetic wears off fairly slowly so we had to stay until he could stand and sort-of walk. We were both bored with hanging around but Jim couldn’t have been happier with having been awake for the surgery. His surgeon and anesthesiologist set up a monitor right beside his head so he could watch everything they were doing. In addition, Dr. Cooley explained what he was doing every step of the way. Jim was beaming when I found him in the recovery area.

Here’s the whole story in photos…

Here’s Jim in that lovely standard issue, full coverage gown we all get when we have to see a doctor, nurse, or go for surgery…it seems like any time we need any procedure they can’t wait to get us into one of these ridiculous things.

Here’s Jim with the nurse who outfitted him with his hospital bracelet. She used to work in the baby delivery area and was used to being videoed at work.

And here Jim is with the other man of the hour, his orthopedist, Dr. Vernon Cooley.

I don’t know…for a surgery it really looks like everyone is having an awful lot of fun…dontcha think? The next photo shows Jim with his anesthesiologist. Anesthesiologists are always more subdued than the rest of the group. He was great…we think his name was Dr. Denton. It was really up to him to decide if he’d give Jim a spinal injection rather than put him out.

The anesthesiologist is holding the IV because he and Jim are just about to leave. They are going to walk down the hall together and into the operating room.

The next photo is Jim in the recovery area. He didn’t have the usual recovery to do because he wasn’t under anesthesia. This also meant that he didn’t have the possible nausea from anesthesia too. He did, however, have to get the feeling back from his waist down so he could stand and walk. That took awhile.

Finally, back home and feeling pretty good this morning (Saturday). Jim is following the doc’s orders to stay on the couch for a few days and do his knee and leg exercises while icing his knee. The surgery turned out to be a different surgery than they’d expected to do, going into it. After they got inside they saw that Jim had a piece of his lateral meniscus torn that needed to be cut out. Before getting inside they thought they were going to need to abrade the miniscus to get it to do some healing on its own…this was going to require that Jim stay off his left leg for 4 to 6 weeks! We were bracing for this type of lengthy recovery. With the excising of the torn lateral piece of meniscus his recovery is very different. He needs to stay off his feet for a couple of days with short trips around the house every so often walking on that leg. They told him that in 2 weeks he can probably start some light hiking! What a much better recovery schedule! We’re both thrilled.