The Pains
You may remember when Raven tore her ACL two years ago and had to have surgery to fix it. (I don’t, because I didn’t exist, but the previous blogger dog probably wrote about it. ) Well she did tear it, and she got it fixed, and she’s been great ever since. But… the surgeon did warn mom and dad that when one knee goes, the other often follows.
On Saturday, as she ran after a squirrel, the other knee followed. She suddenly started keeping one back leg off the ground and was obviously not happy. Dad checked the records and confirmed that it was the opposite leg, so we made an appointment with the vet to check her out. They agreed it was probably the same thing and referred us to the same surgeon.
Later that day, dad said it was time to take her to go see the orthopedic surgeon for an evaluation. I thought, hmm, I don’t know much about what an orthopedist does, but if Raven needs comfortable shoes, I’m all for it. Then I called shotgun and went with them.
Truth be told, I’m not that much of a shotgun fan. I really prefer archery, but that’s hard without opposable thumbs, so shotgun it is. But I digress…
The surgeon checked her out and agreed that it was worse this time, but definitely the same thing. However, he also noticed a distinct heart murmur and suggested we get that checked out before surgery because it can affect anesthetics and stuff. Dad made an appointment at a cardiologist for the following morning.
We started keeping Raven’s harness on her, because it has a handle mom and dad can use to help her with the stairs. (I suggested we just hang her in a closet until it was time for her appointment, but they ignored me.)
The next day dad took her to a veterinary cardiologist, who gave her an echo cardiogram. Afterward, he had good news. While she does have heart disease (hence, heart murmur) it is super, super mild. No need for mediation or behavior changes or anything, and the surgery can proceed as planned. It is scheduled for the first week of April. I can’t wait to see how Raven looks when she’s drugged out of her mind.
OK girlie, into the closet with ya…
The Changes
When it’s snowing, I love being outside (until my paws get too cold). The problem is we get a lot more cold than snow. The really good snow disappeared after about a week and suddenly it was panting season — for about two days — then it snowed again. Of course, that snow was gone in another day or so and now it feels like it may be warming up to stay. It’s still chilly at 5 am when dad makes me wake him up to go outside, but by lunch walk time it’s great. Dad even brought a few of my jumps out to the yard again, since most of the squish is gone.
Now that spring is finally here, I can stop by my friends’ houses on our walks and see if they can come out and play. My best friend is Gracie. She’s a Golden Doodle, which sounds like a prize-winning bit of graffiti, but it’s actually a dog breed. Her mom says she watches for me every day about 12:30, and then has a special bark she makes when she runs to tell her I’m outside. If we see the inside door is open, we know she’s probably waiting for us.
Speaking of agility (we were, barely) we’ve also changed agility schools again. Yeah, the last one wasn’t working out. The problem really started when we were suddenly moved from a beginning class where we worked novice level stuff with 5-6 obstacles, to an advanced class where everyone else had been competing for years, and the courses were always really complex with 18-20 obstacles and almost no instruction. It’s really disheartening when the other people/dogs blast through a course like it’s nothing, and then we fumble through and get stopped constantly for mistakes.
The final straw was the other night when the instructor swatted me with a 1″ PVC pipe because I came over to say hi.
I don’t think she expected dad to notice the swat, but he did, and said, “did you just swat my dog?” And she replied, “A little bit. I don’t think he was too offended.”
I recognized how icy dad’s voice was, and his jaw got really tense and he growled something under his breath that I wasn’t the one she should be concerned about offending; but, we powered through the rest of the course and left the ring. As I was about to go into my kennel, I saw dad was still pretty upset and I suggested we go walk around the parking lot for a bit. He agreed, and once we were outside dad said hitting me is a good way to end up in the hospital, and he really didn’t want to have to clobber an old lady (though I think he would).
We walked in circles and finally decided to finish class and be done with it. So we did, and we left.
The next morning dad wrote an email to the only other place in the area, All Star Dog Sports, and explained we were at a crossroads where we either find a place that encourages us and helps us grow as a team, or we’re done, which would be a shame because, well, I’m awesome.
To his surprise, they wrote back! (They’re super hard to get into so he didn’t really expect a reply.) After a few emails they invited us to come down and take both a beginning and intermediate sequencing class one night and see where we fit in. Evidently dad just happened to write them just as one class schedule ended and the next was about to start.
Luck of the O’Quackers. (That’s foreshadowing. I’m a writer.)
When that day came it was obvious we were way beyond beginner level, but the intermediate class was fun and had some challenges without going overboard. The class size is smaller, which means a lot more repetitions for practice too. It’s just jumps and tunnels right now to learn lines and signals, so we’ll be working on other obstacles at home so I stay sharp until we advance to other classes.
This class seems to be what we needed. It may be a little bit of a step back, but it’s a building block, and we’d rather progress in stages and learn things at a comfortable pace than get thrown in the deep end all at once.
Oh yeah, and you have to bring your own kennel to chill in while dad is out on the course, so I got a nifty collapsible soft-side kennel of my own to use for school and any other travels! (That also might be foreshadowing.)
It’s pretty cool. It is red like me, and has shades that can unroll on any side so I can change clothes in private.
The Automobiles
Somewhere during all of this stuff, dad decided that my pickup truck was reaching the point of lousy trade-in value, and he traded it in. Now I’m a jeep dog instead of a truck dog! In fact, the jeep says it’s made for me right on it!
This is actually a pretty good ride for me, because it has a big thing in the back seat that makes a complete floor (no more hammock thing sagging above the floor), and Raven and I have nifty leashes connected to a big overhead roll-bar that come down to our harnesses, so they’re more out of the way than when they were connected to the seat belt things.
I also feel much more stylish on our rides to and from school.
There’s another passenger that rides on the dash. It’s an Irish duck mom picked up at Browne’s Irish Market. I call him Mr O’Quackers. Look up “Duck, Duck, Jeep” if you’re curious about this weirdness.
Last but not least, I got some cool jewelry! You know how mom and dad have called me “wiggle-butt” ever since I was a little puppy, due to the way my little tail nub wiggles when I try to wag it? Well one day they were out somewhere and found this!
See! It says Wiggle Butt right on it. It’s so cool. Can you believe they made that for me — the one and only wiggle-butt in the world!? Sometimes I can’t get over how awesome I am.
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