snow storm

December 21 2009. the wind was blowing, the snow just kept coming; in the end we had about a foot. On this day we walked down to Gabriel Park for burritos.

missing gus

We’ve stepped into January; the snow melted and turned to rain and it just keeps coming. The yard is soupy and covered with fallen sticks and leaves and the general rot of winter in our moderate climate. Funny thing is that the papillons will go out in it…but Maudie has to be pushed…she just does not like to get wet…Whereas Flynn used to back up in horror at the sight of rain, she now goes mincing out to potty pretty easily; Sonny barrels out and then barrels back in. Maudie looks stricken….

Gus’s absence is strange and deep. There is a clear feeling of being one less; the hole he used to fill is fuzzy and large. I miss his feathery little body curled up next to me, his perfect silky coat cool white and coal black with rusty thumbprints on his brow and cheeks. I even miss that odd smell of metal and spit he gave off these last months. I miss the way he would dance around all bossy and excited to get a cookie or be told how fine and handsome he was while getting a back scratch. I miss the top of his head where the white hairs of his head mingled with the black, and instead of being clearly delineated, they meshed. I miss his upturned bridge and his tiny front teeth. I miss the way his front feet folded when he rolled on his back for a tummy scratch…the fur on his fragile forearm that seemed always to be growing back after being shaved, the bright pink or purple vet tape that held the gauze to the vein that had been punctured for a sample or a tube. The little brown map that was left on the gauze after the tape was rolled off. I even miss how quiet it is when I and the other 3 dogs go to bed. He would already be there with Mark and would get in a snit about us disturbing them.

It’s that physical absence of a dog that is so painful. The feel of them, the smell, the sound conjures tears and an ache of loss. Our relationships are so about being physical and close, touch and smell. We watch them poop, they follow us into the bathroom too. There is no shame; there is just a being in the world together. And when one is gone, certain ease goes with it…a dance partner has bowed out…a team member folded, a comforter gone cold.

...3rd dog...

Maudie is now the 3rd dog.
We lost our Gus Friday night... and the physical absence of him is heartbreaking. The grief overwhelming. Our neice, who was stranded at the airport Friday on her way back east from Reed College has come here to ride out the winter storm ....and I think her presence...which is soft, and smart and sweet has made it much easier, esp for Mark. But I, who stays up late into the night and haunts the places where Gus is not...I meet the rip in the fabric that is our life in this house without him... the silence without the flurry of barking when I and the other dogs would come in to bed at night, his sudden appearance at the door for a late night snack and a pee.
Now, it is 3 am on the first full night of this terrible knowledge; the wind is batting the trees around, tiny ice crystals fall onto the deep snow and I am tired.
Earlier today I wrote a kind of eulogy for him to send our family and friends. Then we took Maudie out for walk in the snow.

CH Ezee Butterfly Storm CD CGC...known to his friends as Gus.

Gus came to live with us in 2002 took one look at Mark and announced that he was "his man forever." While he finished his championship with his co-breeders, Karen and Steve Baird, Mark and Gus began a relationship characterized by a love and devotion that was moving to all who knew them. They ventured in to the world of obedience together and very quickly earned a CD. Their second qualifying score was earned under Judge Jill Jones who remarked that she had never seen a Novice A dog with such great off lead heeling. This, we understood, was evidence and illustration-of the bond between them.
Gus took it upon himself to be Mark's partner; he taught Mark how to train, he took care of him in the ring. Once the judge called left turn, Mark, with Novice A jitters, started to turn right, but Gus turned left and for a moment Mark heeled with HIM into the turn.

They had been training in Open and Utility when he died. Tuesday morning class with Ellie Wyckoff was a highlight of the week. They went a lot of places together, and even when it was to the hospital I think the experience was softened by the fact that they were together.

Gus was a very special dog. If he had been a person, he would've been a poet, sensitive as an ant's antennae, lovely as a monarch butterfly. To us he was the epitome of papillon beauty: graceful, a little willowy yet masculine,and with the unmistakable bright intelligence of the breed. He didn't have a coarse bone in his body yet he always struck me as much larger than he was. He was of a type that defied fashions and fads, not flashy, but balanced and elegant. And he loved to show off.

Always polite to everyone, there is a small group of people with whom Gus shared his heart. He continued to adore Karen, he loved Ellie and Steve and me. But he
was without doubt, a once in a lifetime dog for Mark. An irreplaceable force, a true true friend.

Fall

Things have been relatively quiet around here. In my research on seizures I discovered that there is a high success rate for melatonin given to dogs who have seizures in their sleep. So Maudie is getting 3mg at bedtime...

I've also been informed that the off-gassing of polyester, the waves sent by wireless computer, cell and land phones as well as the fall out from television may play a role in disturbed brain activity. I've been replacing Maude's beds with whole sheepskin, wool and all cotton. I'm not sure what to do about the wireless Internet we have; it's become such a staple of the household...but I am being more mindful of her space in relation to the use of the electronics.


People tell me their stories, 99% of which are sad sad stories and I have to keep telling myself that every dog is different and that she has me to look out for her. I come to understand more and more Keats' theory of negative capability not only as a poetic state of mind, but as a way of being in a world guided by change and uncertainty...It's a balancing act to stay grounded, to soldier on while acknowledging that the Mystery is All. To not pull back from love when loss shakes its finger at you.

The First Dog

On another note….I am quite certain that I have the answer to what kind of dog the Obama’s should get. ;-)

First off: I PRAY they don’t fall for the “oodle” scam. There are some nice ones, no doubt…but I am appalled at the prices people are willing to pay for a mongrel. There is no breed uniformity, no standard…and no guarantee of being “hypo-allergenic.”

But! I vote for a standard poodle from a really good breeder, a big poodle as elegant, intelligent, funny, dignified as the family itself. And they don’t shed. In my mind it’s a white standard poodle, but I think the black ones are said to be the most stable and intelligent.

A ex racing greayhound is an elegant choice, but I’m not sure one would be “fun” enough for the girls.

I keep thinking about the terriers…a Kerry Blue, a Wheaton or maybe an Airedale. Cairn or Westie maybe….Scotties are too dour…

But I think a Standard Poodle would be perfect.

Another One.....

Monday evening. My optimism failed me. We were all lounging in the living room; I was grading some papers before supper, the dogs were snoozing in front of the fire, drowsy from Ellie’s. Suddenly Maudie sat up her eyes darting around the room as if following a very fast fly, then she fell to her side and went into seizure.

I reached down to where her muzzle would’ve hit the sharp corner of the settee, wedged my hand between and asked M to bring the Rescue Remedy and Haagen Daz. When it was over and she lifted her head, we gave her RR and as she stood up, offered the ice cream, which she ate.

Because of the RR and the ice cream at the ready, her recovery was much faster this time and I tried to hide my sinking heart from her, focusing instead on her increasing steadiness.

Her breeder has been very supportive.

What triggered it?
? The paps had had their HW meds 3 days previously. Could there be a kind of offgassing?
? I had seen her on the garden path in the dark very interested in something on the ground
The gas fire’s been on for a few weeks. ??
? She was unable to focus in class until I took her outside where she exploded just in time and spent a few minutes crouching as not much came out after the initial dumping of soft, mucousy stool. Afterwards, she was gay as all get out in class and we had fun.

We saw D OB the next day, got an adjustment and I’ve been researching additional measures. Homeopathy in particular…

The hoof beat would suggest idiopathic epilepsy, a problem in the breed. In NC they are doing a study on collies with the dbl MDR1 gene and epilepsy. I wrote but as she’s not on seizure medications she’s not eligible.

Meds aren’t prescribed unless the seizures come more often, and phenobarbitol, adjusted with sodium bromide seems the standard. It makes sense to me that something like Valerian/ Passaflora and the like ---which also have a calming effect—might help.

I wonder if a tab of Formula 303 each evening might work as a preventative. In any case….another medical mystery has landed on my desk… I remain calm, if a little disheartened, preferring to give this one to my head and let the girl herself keep my heart.

Abashed.

The blog has slid out of my ritual and habits.
It is the probably the most common ailment of these thousands and thousands of bloggers. And, well, I caught it.
Part of it is the return to school, part of it is the fact that I’ve kept working in the studio and am exploring new things, part of it is reading through the articles I’m evaluating for DWAA* awards, and part is just ailment.

Just to catch up then.

Maudie and I are now working twice a month at 2 different locations. One in our neighborhood and one a little outside of it.
The second is the library where we started and even though the time is a little inconvenient: Tues pm after a full day of teaching, I can’t give it up. Too many possibilities. There are the 4th grade girls who Maudie adores, most of whom read as well as my college students, and some who need more practice. She really enjoys them. Our last reader, when she was done, sat on the floor with Maudie’s head in her lap while her mom rubbed her tummy. She looked up at me with a “this really IS the life” look.

The Maudie fan club grows wherever she goes. It is clear to see why.
a. she’s arrestingly beautiful
b. she’s personable
c. she’s gentle
When she meets people, she sits square in front of them, looks them right in the face with soft eyes and offers a paw. Her posture is one of humility and delight: her ears are back. Yet she retains her queenliness: she is sitting straight up when she offers her “hand.”

The kids love it when she lies down next to them with that big “ooof” which I have told them is her sound of contentment. And it is.
She sounds like a lion when she slides to the floor and groans. It is a happy song.

I am very very proud of her. When she is working and her eyes turn to mine to check in, I am filled with honor to be her partner.


* Dog Writers Assoc. of America