Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, months turned into years -- as they are wont to do. Nee and I had found our niche. As the years passed, we both mellowed -- a lot. We settled into a comfortable companionship. She was not as protective or possessive as in her younger years. She would allow friends to hug me -- we all settled for a kneeling group hug which she really enjoyed! One of Marg and Len's sons - Richard - was a big, tough looking guy and he simply adored Nee and she him. He came in once and layed down in her bed (her "palace"). I got really anxious and told him to get out before Nee saw him and he just laughed and called her from the balcony. She looked over at him in her palace and stood there for a minute - like she was trying to figure out how she should react. Richard grabbed her, put her in the bed and started rough housing with her, ruffling her all up and smooching her. They played together for awhile and she went back to her balcony, leaving Richard in her palace -- aw, no problem, it's only Richard!
We came to the point where our walks were shorter and slower. No more sliding down the hill to the river for us. Nice, quiet, sedate walks -- Nee sniffing every foot step, every blade of grass, me keeping an ever-roaming eye out for loose dogs. We met a new neighbour - Cindy - who had two small "dustmop" dogs -- really, one of them WAS named Dustmop, the other Rit. Dustmop, at 16 or so, was a grumpy, snarling little thing so although they didn't play together, we were able to walk all three of them and strolled out in the evenings without an issue.
When Nee was 11, she became incontinent - probably as a result of the Metacam she was on for her joints. Eventual testing indicated she had also developed Cushings disease. Oh, all the meds the vet wanted her to take! Something for the incontinence, another new vaccination for leptosporosis, something for the Cushings, along with her Metacam - which was the likely cause of her other issues. Well, no thanks. We'll keep her on the Metacam only. He balked at the Metacam and said it was like a timebomb, just waiting to explode. Well, that scared me sufficiently to agree to take her off that medication and put her on something new -- Tramadol. Gave her the dosage as prescribed and watched her daily get more stiff and in pain. Vet said, give it a chance, let it get into her system. Foolish me -- I listened. After a month, she could not go up the four steps to our apartment without limping and groaning. That was it! Called the vet and told him I WAS putting her back on Metacam and if he wouldn't prescribe it, someone else would. We're talking quality of life here...if it cuts her life short by a year or two, it's certainly better than having her live in pain for those extra years. He finally acquiesed, put her back on the Metacam and within a week she was back to her normal 11 year old self. We weren't gonna be running any marathons, but never did that before, either. I was determined to listen to my spirit for her care, just as I would for my own. Over the next few years, I stuck to that, refusing meds that would prevent incontinence -- the side effects were horrendous, warnings from the OVA were dire. We'll take our chances as long as she's not in pain. It was worth the extra housecleaning, extra cleaning of her body to prevent urine burns, always making sure she retained her dignity. When I saw her lying in a wet spot, I simply stuck an absorbent pad under her. People told me our home never smelled of urine, or any other doggy smells. I loved the smell of my dog (well, except after swimming in the river and rolling in dead fish). Even today, when I take out her leash or a toy she played with, I inhale that beautiful, sweet smell of my little girl. It's still there, years later, although the fragrance is fading.
When she was thirteen, she developed a cyst on her eye; a different vet at the clinic looked at it during her regular annual checkup; oh, she'll need surgery to remove that! Well, how safe it is for her to have surgery at her age and with her medical condition? Not very safe -- you just never know with an older dog. I agreed with that - you never do know. Okay, give me something to soothe the irritation while I think about surgery. I didn't think about it much. I bathed her eye twice daily in a mild salt/cool water solution using sterile pads, then put the cream on that the vet had given me. Two weeks into this regime, the cyst started bleeding - not much, but enough to worry me somewhat. Again, my instinct was to just keep up with the routine with slight changes. To avoid more irritation, I stopped using salt and used warm water. After a month, I could see this thing shrinking, no more bleeding, she was scratching it less often. I prayed that this would solve the issue so she wouldn't require surgery. It did and before long, there wasn't a shred of evidence that it had ever been there. God is so good!
At thirteen, Nee's hearing wasn't as good as it used to be, her eyesight had diminished somewhat, she walked a little slower. Come to think of it, during that time, my hearing and eyesight diminished somewhat also and I too walked a little slower. We were growing old gracefully -- together. She still managed to amaze me from time to time. During one snowfall, we were walking down the road beside our building. Snow was very deep but that never bothered us much. Decided to walk back through the field and entered at the far end where the snowplow hadn't been yet. No problem getting through the smooth, deep snow. As we started to come out of the field, I noticed the plow had been there and there was a HUGE mountain of snow blocking the exit. I said "Well, looks like we're gonna have to climb this mountain". No sooner were the words out of my mouth than Nee took a flying leap and literally glided through the air up and over that pile of snow. I was in awe - I've never seen anything so beautiful and graceful -- body stretched fully out like she was flying. I'd never seen her fly through the air like that. She came to a halt on the other side, stood solid and let me pull myself up with her leash - just as she used to do climbing the hills!
One warm summer night, I was sitting in the front yard with her; no leash on her - she didn't run anymore - nothing to worry about there. Yeah - famous last words. She spotted the raccoon before I did and raced across the road, scaring the living .... out of me. I ran across the street hollering at her - by the time I got there, the raccoon had headed back to our side of the road, Nee hot on his trail. Chased the raccoon to the next corner where he climbed a fence and up a tree he went. Nee stood there trying to figure out how to get over that five foot fence and that gave me time to catch up to her. Grabbed her collar and away we went back home. I was so relieved that no harm was done, I couldn't even give her a lecture. Heart pounding, knees weak, I held on to her and vowed never to take her abilities for granted again. She was such a strong spirited dog. It was to stand her in good stead in the following years.
We came to the point where our walks were shorter and slower. No more sliding down the hill to the river for us. Nice, quiet, sedate walks -- Nee sniffing every foot step, every blade of grass, me keeping an ever-roaming eye out for loose dogs. We met a new neighbour - Cindy - who had two small "dustmop" dogs -- really, one of them WAS named Dustmop, the other Rit. Dustmop, at 16 or so, was a grumpy, snarling little thing so although they didn't play together, we were able to walk all three of them and strolled out in the evenings without an issue.
When Nee was 11, she became incontinent - probably as a result of the Metacam she was on for her joints. Eventual testing indicated she had also developed Cushings disease. Oh, all the meds the vet wanted her to take! Something for the incontinence, another new vaccination for leptosporosis, something for the Cushings, along with her Metacam - which was the likely cause of her other issues. Well, no thanks. We'll keep her on the Metacam only. He balked at the Metacam and said it was like a timebomb, just waiting to explode. Well, that scared me sufficiently to agree to take her off that medication and put her on something new -- Tramadol. Gave her the dosage as prescribed and watched her daily get more stiff and in pain. Vet said, give it a chance, let it get into her system. Foolish me -- I listened. After a month, she could not go up the four steps to our apartment without limping and groaning. That was it! Called the vet and told him I WAS putting her back on Metacam and if he wouldn't prescribe it, someone else would. We're talking quality of life here...if it cuts her life short by a year or two, it's certainly better than having her live in pain for those extra years. He finally acquiesed, put her back on the Metacam and within a week she was back to her normal 11 year old self. We weren't gonna be running any marathons, but never did that before, either. I was determined to listen to my spirit for her care, just as I would for my own. Over the next few years, I stuck to that, refusing meds that would prevent incontinence -- the side effects were horrendous, warnings from the OVA were dire. We'll take our chances as long as she's not in pain. It was worth the extra housecleaning, extra cleaning of her body to prevent urine burns, always making sure she retained her dignity. When I saw her lying in a wet spot, I simply stuck an absorbent pad under her. People told me our home never smelled of urine, or any other doggy smells. I loved the smell of my dog (well, except after swimming in the river and rolling in dead fish). Even today, when I take out her leash or a toy she played with, I inhale that beautiful, sweet smell of my little girl. It's still there, years later, although the fragrance is fading.
When she was thirteen, she developed a cyst on her eye; a different vet at the clinic looked at it during her regular annual checkup; oh, she'll need surgery to remove that! Well, how safe it is for her to have surgery at her age and with her medical condition? Not very safe -- you just never know with an older dog. I agreed with that - you never do know. Okay, give me something to soothe the irritation while I think about surgery. I didn't think about it much. I bathed her eye twice daily in a mild salt/cool water solution using sterile pads, then put the cream on that the vet had given me. Two weeks into this regime, the cyst started bleeding - not much, but enough to worry me somewhat. Again, my instinct was to just keep up with the routine with slight changes. To avoid more irritation, I stopped using salt and used warm water. After a month, I could see this thing shrinking, no more bleeding, she was scratching it less often. I prayed that this would solve the issue so she wouldn't require surgery. It did and before long, there wasn't a shred of evidence that it had ever been there. God is so good!
At thirteen, Nee's hearing wasn't as good as it used to be, her eyesight had diminished somewhat, she walked a little slower. Come to think of it, during that time, my hearing and eyesight diminished somewhat also and I too walked a little slower. We were growing old gracefully -- together. She still managed to amaze me from time to time. During one snowfall, we were walking down the road beside our building. Snow was very deep but that never bothered us much. Decided to walk back through the field and entered at the far end where the snowplow hadn't been yet. No problem getting through the smooth, deep snow. As we started to come out of the field, I noticed the plow had been there and there was a HUGE mountain of snow blocking the exit. I said "Well, looks like we're gonna have to climb this mountain". No sooner were the words out of my mouth than Nee took a flying leap and literally glided through the air up and over that pile of snow. I was in awe - I've never seen anything so beautiful and graceful -- body stretched fully out like she was flying. I'd never seen her fly through the air like that. She came to a halt on the other side, stood solid and let me pull myself up with her leash - just as she used to do climbing the hills!
One warm summer night, I was sitting in the front yard with her; no leash on her - she didn't run anymore - nothing to worry about there. Yeah - famous last words. She spotted the raccoon before I did and raced across the road, scaring the living .... out of me. I ran across the street hollering at her - by the time I got there, the raccoon had headed back to our side of the road, Nee hot on his trail. Chased the raccoon to the next corner where he climbed a fence and up a tree he went. Nee stood there trying to figure out how to get over that five foot fence and that gave me time to catch up to her. Grabbed her collar and away we went back home. I was so relieved that no harm was done, I couldn't even give her a lecture. Heart pounding, knees weak, I held on to her and vowed never to take her abilities for granted again. She was such a strong spirited dog. It was to stand her in good stead in the following years.