It's My Dog's World: I Just Live In It

Goodbye, Dear Faith. Hello, Queen Mavis: On Rushing in Again Like a Fool

So, this happened a little faster than either I  or my husband expected.

Faith died on February 10, 2013.  (One of Faith's fans, another dog owner, said: "You never forget the date.") 

Jeff and I had planned to have a few months to ourselves.  To grieve, to travel, to write. We had expected to have our old girl for one more summer, one more plunge into the lake. But cancer had other ideas. 

I missed Faith a lot.

I missed her so much I couldn't write about it. Here, or elsewhere. Except for Facebook.  By the digital waters of Babylon, I lay down and wept. Mark Zuckerberg, you may be an evil supergenius, but you certainly have provided us with a place to grieve almost anything. 

I also missed the routine of being a dog owner: the walks, the conversation on those walks. The friendships that came out of owning and/or loving dogs.  It felt positively weird to talk down the street, day after day, without a creature at the end of the leash. Without the connection to other people that came from walking Faith.  

I got to know Hoboken through walking Faith. I met our city's mayor when she was first running for council--because Faith wanted the donuts she was giving out.  I met the mayor's kids with Faith and was mightily impressed with how they handled dogs.  And when Faith was still a work in progress, one of the few dogs she got along with was the soon-to-be-mayor's dog. 

And this had been even more precious to me and Jeff because Faith started out as such a difficult, unpredictable dog. After we adopted her, we discovered that she hated most other dogs. So much so that once, when she thought she heard a dog on the other side of the street,  she tried  to climb over a car to menace it. It gave me no peace to realize that all Faith had heard was some guy's wallet chain jingling. 

But she changed, because she felt safer, because we all--Faith, Jeff and I--worked very hard. Four trainers-worth hard. And because Faith was the kind of dog who, when she got older, she got sweeter.  So the walks at the beginning of our time with Faith were fraught with anxiety and terror. And the walks at the end of her life were lovely and magical.

Don't get me wrong. I hated losing Faith, but I liked, very much, no longer having to rush home to walk our dog. To wander. To make dog-less vacation plans. To stay put when the weather was crummy because nobody in our house had to go to the bathroom outside. 

We had the canine equivalent of an empty nest. 

And it lasted all of a month and a half. 

Dogs happen, baby.  In the next installment, I will talk a little bit more about our pocket pit, Mavis the Strumpet.

 

 

Goodbye Big Swimmer

Our dog Faith died five weeks ago yesterday.  I've mostly been writing about this elsewhere--Tumblr, Facebook, Twitter...not here.

But it's still my dog's world.  

Here's what I wrote elsewhere:

 

Our dog Faith died two Sundays ago, when we had to put her to sleep at Animal Medical Center in New York. She started having trouble walking on Saturday, and spent that night panting. The next morning, her back legs wouldn’t support her. X-rays revealed a tumor on her spine. Surgery wouldn’t bring any of her functions back. At 6 a.m, we walked in with a very sick dog. At noon, we left alone. 

Faith was 14, a Jersey City rescue, and the love of our lives. She was no Lassie or Disney dog. She had a broken tooth, a piece missing from her tongue, and a tooth-shaped scar under her eye. (Yup: we were CLUELESS.) Her dog-aggressive behavior meant we went through four trainers before she got within hailing distance of normal. 

But: she did. And it was totally worth it. By the end of her life, Faith was the role model for other dogs, completely docile around kids, and quite the cougar when she was around unfixed males.  

If you decide to “rescue” a dog, know that it may be more difficult than you imagine. And more rewarding than you could ever dream. 

She broke our hearts wide open.

[Here is a sample of her being very, very good.]

 

 

Someone got a few pins in her

Source: flickr.com via Martha on Pinterest

Faith's joints are getting creakier and creakier, so we went to our vet for some acupuncture, electrostim, and cold laser therapy.

The vet, who has a lovely New Zealand accent (Flight of the Conchords!), was kind and gentle with Faith, and Faith held out through the acupuncture (I did think of HELLRAISER for just a second). The electrostim seemed to rile her, through no fault of the vet.  On went the muzzle. Sigh. Faith seems somewhat better, but it takes a few treatments to really establish what will improve.

Meanwhile, Faith is also dealing with a persistent plantar's wart on her front left paw, which causes her to limp. She wears a purple rubber sock on her paw, kind of a paw condom thingie, when she walks on the street.  People like to make comments. We deal.  

She is still capable of: swimming a half an hour. And causing a shiba inu puppy to stop dead in the middle of a New York street to sniff her butt. So: there's that. 

We also saw Bernadette Peters and her sweet dog Stella. Celebrity AND celebrity dog spot(! Stella has her own book and CD!)

It's My Dog's World, But Sometimes She Has To Share It With...a Puppy

Someday, probably in a book, probably partly on this blog, I'll go into the long, never-ending, sometimes joyous, sometimes difficult journey to make Faith a better dog.  In the short run, though, let me celebrate the fact that we went on a little vacation where we shared space with Faith's old pal Mac, a mellow GoldenDoodle (snifftastic), and Faith's new acquaintance, Penny, a beautiful 13-week-old Jack Russell terrier.  (This isn't Penny, but a reasonable facsimile. Especially the chewing on wood stuff part.) And relative peace reigned. Sniffs, barks, territories tested...and then...doggy peace.

Faith on Broadway 2Night!

Yes, I'm a shameless dog mommy.  I submitted Faith's grrrumpy Santa photo to Purina's "Picture Your Dog in Times Square" contest....and tonight's the night.  She's scheduled to appear a little after 10.  If you're clicking through, check out all the dogs...(and p.s., I was part of the team that helped design the sign!).

Random Thoughts, Plus a Happy Wet Dog

I don't know.  I think Slutbuck's sounds like a fun place to go.  More about How Starbucks became Slutbuck's here from Fair Game, an NPR radio show.  Mermaids! Coffee! Free enterprise! Cleavage!

Faith went swimming in Brooklyn yesterday, at fabulous Prospect Park.  She barked from Hoboken to Jersey City to Brooklyn. That is a lot of barking. We have NOT figured out how to get her to stop. It may be time for a return visit to her bestest trainer, Tyril Frith.  Tyril once told us that he thought Faith, who has a really high prey drive, would make "a very good drug dog."  That's a dog compliment, y'all.

However, Faith was the best dog in the world once we got to Brooklyn's Dog Beach, and actually shared her two floaty toys (more or less) with Roscoe, a handsome brown pit mix, and Bella, a gorgeous little black Staffie who had NEVER been in the water before.  Roscoe is a retrieve-a-holic--when he couldn't reach Faith's water Kong (said floaty toy) he started bringing back potato chip bags, crumpled water bottles--I'm sure he would have brought back a small child if there was one there.  But he wouldn't bring them to land--because, Roscoe's owner explained, Roscoe thinks that once you touch land, it's time to go home, and Roscoe did NOT want to go home.

Bella, who had recently been adopted by Roscoe's owner, seemed puzzled by all the commotion, but clearly wanted to join her new brother.  So she lunged into the water...and then began flailing when she got in over her head. 

We humans on land vacillated between laughter and wondering if one of us was going to have to be a doggy life guard.  Bella figured it out, though.  Faith, meanwhile, dealt with all the commotion like a trooper.  She played well with others, and she snoozed in the car. Jeff and I felt like very very proud parents.

It's My Dog's World--So I Really Should Write About Her More Often

I realize that while the blog does regularly feature dogs, dogs, dogs, I haven't written lately about the Queen of All Dog Media, my dog Faith.  And mostly, it's because of that most basic blog problem:

Faith has become a good dog. So good, most of the time, her escapades are not blog-worthy.  Jeff routinely returns from his night walk with some new report of how many of the Cute Young Girls of Hoboken love Faith, how they knock over cafe tables to embrace her.  If Jeff were single, Faith would be his most reliable chick magnet.

But Faith's got it going on with the canine dudes now, too. She's got a couple of dog boyfriends, including a German short-hair pointer, Oliver, who staged a make-out session with her about a week ago, which my husband was thrilled to report on.  She's got a regular sniffy thing with  Shumbai, the giant Alpha James Dean Rhodesian Ridgeback of Hoboken.  She's even made a kind of peace with Rufus, a skittery King Charles spaniel. 

Does she love all dogs?  No.  And she never will.  (For anyone who's acquired a puppy, listen up:  SOCIALIZE YOUR PUPPY. SOCIALIZE YOUR PUPPY.  The developmental window will eventually close, and if you haven't done it, you will pay.)  But her training has taken her a lot farther than I ever expected.   Today we walked by the homeless shelter, where she snuggled with an older woman so anxious to pet Faith, who is sensitive to smoke, the woman threw away her cigarette.  "She's more important," the woman said.

She was a scared, freaked-out, fat, sluggish dog when we got her, though she was smart enough to dive into Jeff's coat the first time we met.  Bad stuff had happened to her, and like most traumatized creatures, she expected more bad stuff to happen to her.  How lucky I am that Jeff was willing to hang in as we discovered, with the help of several trainers, and patient friends, the dog Faith could be. And is.

So on this mother's day, I celebrate the creature I have mothered more or less successfully, Faith, the Miracle dog.

My Dog's Boyfriend Has A Girlfriend

My dog Faith likes her dog boyfriends big, short-haired, and aloof as possible.  The more Faith's masculine ideal ignores her, the more she trembles with...anticipation.

Tonight in the park, I met Sammy Girl, a sweet, ball-obsessed Lab/Shiba Inu, whose owner told me that her dog, very alpha, like Faith, loves the "standoffish boys."

I told her I knew exactly what she meant.  Then, Sammy Girl's owner looked at me out of the corner of her eye and said, "Have you met Shumbai?"

Have I.  Every time Faith sees him--a long, loping drink of Rhodesian Ridgeback--she lurches toward him, longing only for a head to tail sniff, punctuated by a long snort of his inner ear.

"Oh, don't tell Sammy Girl," the owner begged me. "Shumbai is HER boyfriend.  She even likes to whisper in his ear when they walk together."

I swore secrecy, but now I've got to know:  just what kind of man musk is Shumbai wearing in his ear?

Why My Dog Amuses Me

Because she makes me talk to other owners of oddly blended dogs…I actually met a pitbull/dachshund two days ago, because I could see a little Faith in him, but there was something else going on, so I asked the owner.  The dog’s name was Chingo, and he is a…weinerbull? 

 

Because she loves the big boys—and by that, I mean unfixed male Rhodesian ridgebacks and Italian mastiffs who stand perfectly still as she stands on doggy tippy toe to stick her nose in their ears.  If these dogs were people, they’d be biker guys.

 

Because she is so optimistic about getting a treat from someone that she now wags her tail when she sees someone carrying a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee….across the street from us.  Because coffee just might equal donut!

 

 

Dogs + YouTube = contest!

C'mon...I know you've got some good video of your dawg.