Older Dog Wisdom: Grace 4: 3x5 Cards

Tux has his many and beloved 11-year-old toys. Grace, though, is a girl after my own heart. She has a fascination, dare I say it? an obsession, with 3x5 cards. She loves her index cards. I dare not leave any within her reach, including on tables because they’ll be gone when I return. I love being able to blame my misplaced/lost cards on Grace.

She caught on to my ruse not long ago. She no longer tries to hide the fact that she has taken my index card. Nope. She tears off a corner and leaves the rest for me to discover. I like this about her. Since I get the card back only a little worse for wear, I don’t lose the data on the card.

At one time, I thought I could foil her theft by attaching a pen to the card thus making it awkward to carry because of the added heft. It didn’t deter her at all. I found the card with the pen nearby. The obligatory corner was gone, the pen was unharmed, and my list remained legible.

I have a confession to make. I love my iPhone and all the many apps I keep on it, including shopping apps like Grocery iQ to keep my grocery list, apps to keep track of books, apps like Awesome Notes which is the closest I’ve come to having 3x5 cards on my iPhone, and a host of other apps. Even so, I continue to use 3x5 cards to make a list of things I need to accomplish on a particular day, for instance. I’ve recently discovered 2x2 cards. A quick perusal of the cards next to my chair includes a reminder to download Steven Tyler’s Dream On from iTunes, another reminds me to get some Journey tunes, while a third reminds me to get distilled water the next time I’m in a grocery store. Even with loving my iPhone and its apps, I haven’t given up my need for 3x5 cards, regardless of their size.

Grace is inordinately pleased that I continue to use 3x5 cards. She loves the heft of the cards, the ease of carrying them around, and how satisfying chewing off one corner is. For my part, I’m pleased that she likes the cards rather than plush toys. 3x5 cards are a heck of a lot cheaper than plush toys, and since I can’t seem to stop buying the cards, we now have a life-time supply stashed in a cupboard in the family room.

I asked Grace what lesson I could pass on about her passion for 3x6 cards. Her answer, while rude, was pithy. She said to tell you to figure it out yourselves. Such a mouth she has.

Older Dog Wisdom: Tux 30 - Storms of Our Lives

A recent storm came upon us quickly. It seemed as if one minute the sun was shining and the next it was so dark it could have easily been twenty minutes after the sun set. Then the winds came up whipping the tree branches back and forth bending saplings nearly to the breaking point. Next, the skies opened up and deluged us with rain and small hail. All of this could be a tornado. I quickly turned on the television and, as quickly, lost service. Next, I pulled out my iPhone and started opening weather apps. 

The national weather apps were useless because their information was a half-hour old, which is usually not a problem, but it becomes a problem when dealing with a tornado that can change direction in a nanosecond. Closing those apps, I opened first one and then another and yet another of the apps put out by the local television stations. Not only was their information nearly as old as the national apps had been, but their sites are cover in advertisements making it hard to find the information I was so desperately seeking. I had no idea whether a tornado, like the F4 tornado that hit Joplin, MO and left over 100 people dead (making it the deadliest tornado in US history) and 1100 injured, was coming at me or this was only a severe thunderstorm.

While I was trying to find information about the weather, the thunder arrived. Both Tux and his sister, Grace, are afraid of thunder. It only took seconds for them to seek comfort in my lap. Grace, in particular, was affected by the noise. She shivered, her eyes got very big, and she hid her head between the chair and me. Tux, on the other hand, was putting on a brave face, but I noticed that he cringed whenever a clap came too close to the house.

As fast as the storm came upon us, it started moving away. It didn’t make it any less dangerous or any less scary, though. The rain continued for another hour or so, and the wind continued to blow. Two hours later the sun was out again. We had weathered yet another storm.

Lesson Learned

We all have storms in our lives. Relationships end, jobs are lost, loved ones pass away. Those storms can be devastating, they can be life changing, and they can be demoralizing. It is, however, how we react to them that is important. If we arise from the devastation, learn about ourselves from them, and then move on, we have grown and gotten stronger.

Tux has learned this lesson. He was scared of the noise, of my desperation to find out whether our lives were in danger, and of his usually brave sister's reaction to the storm. His reaction in the face of the storm was to whistle in the dark as it were. 

The storm passed and I learned from Tux that sometimes we all need to put on a brave face and whistle in the face of danger.

Older Dog Wisdom: Tux 27 - Taking Action

Tux got another fan letter. Let the strutting around the 

house like a peacock begin. For a very cute older dog, he can be insufferable. One of the first things he did, after he stopped bouncing around doing his imitation of a happy dance, was to take Grace’s spot on the couch. Grace is his sister and rival for the position of Alpha Dog in the family. She immediately retaliated by climbing onto my chair with me - a place Tux claims as his own. She asked for pets. Despite not wanting to take sides in this ongoing battle between the two of them, what choice did I have? I gave her the pets she wanted.  She kept glancing over shoulder to ensure that he was watching. He was.

That was too much for Tux. He jumped down from the couch and headed our way. He, too, climbed into my lap. Grace shifted positions to make it harder for him to lie down. He did it anyway. Not only was he uncomfortable, but now so was I. I may have to buy a double recliner if this keeps up, I thought. They both settled in for a nap. While I usually keep a book nearby, on this day there was no book. I couldn’t very well get my laptop out - there wasn’t enough room for me, two Cocker Spaniels, and my laptop. Never did it occur to me to push either or both dogs off. Can we say spoiled Cocker Spaniels?

While I sat pondering what to do next, Grace jumped down and reclaimed her spot on the couch. Tux looked surprised. I continued to watch him and finally, several minutes later, I saw the light dawn. Grace had duped him. She had tricked him into giving up her spot on the couch. He’d been had - again. She has become a master at duping Tux. He’s not the brightest star in the array, but he usually catches on eventually. And he is so very cute and trusting while he ponders what just happened.

Lesson Learned

Watching Tux and Grace, I’ve learned to think about the consequences of my action before I take action. While the initial satisfaction of an action taken in haste may be worth it, more likely than not, the consequence of a rashly taken action taken during the heat of the moment, often turns out badly. Perhaps taking a few minutes to ponder the possible consequences of action might provide some perspective, show us what could go wrong. Who was it who said, “If something can go wrong, it will?” Tux can certainly attest to that - time and time again.

Older Dog Wisdom: Grace 3 - Past Prime

Grace is the extrovert of the family. She loves people. Let me be more precise, she loves being the center of attention. There have only been a couple of people who she didn’t like. One was a vet who had fast hands and no bed-side manner, and misdiagnosed the cancer that caused her toe to be amputated. The other was a rude plumber who, as it turns out, was incompetent. Grace had been right to not like both those men.

We were out for our walk one morning recently. We were in the park by 6:00 am (and it was already 80 degrees and humid). We passed by a dog we’d never seen before and its owner. Then there was another walker, a woman. Grace was doing her best to charm the woman. Her tail was going a mile a minute. She was at her most charming. The woman, however, was apparently immune to Grace’s charms. The woman ignored her.

Grace isn’t used to being ignored. It had all begun when she was a puppy. She was as cute as the day is long. Wherever we went, people would come to her oohing and ahhing over how cute she was. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to rub her tiny soft ears, caress her silky-soft coat, and watch the tiny tail wagging so fast that it appeared that it could make her fly. This adoration continued. Now, however, the adoration is fading. 

Grace is crushed. She looked at me with disbelief in her big brown eyes. When we got home, I sat down and she crawled up into the chair with me. She looked positively depressed.

I had to explain to her that in this society being young is more important than the wisdom that elders have. I explained to her that humans ignore their elders, and make them feel like they don’t exist. Unlike the Chinese, for instance, who revere their elders, we Americans look away from our elderly. I explained that as she ages (she’s now 11) and due to no fault of her own, she, too, will be ignored. There will always be a puppy who, while no cuter than she is, it will, nevertheless, have the upper hand because of its age. 

It’s not fair, Grace told me. 

No, it’s not fair. But it is what it is.

Well, shame on anyone who believes that age should factor into whether I’m the cutest.

Yes, shame on us, I replied.

She felt a little better, but I could tell, she wasn’t ready to give up her title of the cutest Cocker Spaniel ever.

Lesson Learned

It is a shame to ignore an elderly person. Instead, when you see an elder - be it a human or a dog - give a smile and say hello. You will have made that person’s day because you didn’t treat her like she didn’t exist. The same can be true of dogs. They love the attention and pick up from your voice and pets that you think they’re special enough not to ignore.

Older Dog Wisdom: Tux 23 - Stunned by a Cat

Imagine Tux’s surprise when a cat, yes, a cat, slithered under the gate of the privacy deck right outside the family room’s French doors. At first, he was immobilized, stunned by the audacity of the animal. Grace was the first to react, racing to the glass doors and barking her outrage. Tux followed her, but before he could issue forth a single bark, the cat had slithered back under the gate.

The cat, however, wasn’t done with us. When it realized that the hounds from hell hadn’t been released on her, she turned around and came back. Yes, really. She came back. Then she added insult to injury and sauntered slowly and casually not more than a foot from the reaches of the world’s most frightening Cocker Spaniels. Not once did the arrogant cat look their way. She totally ignored them both. That took away their voices. No one had ever been so outrageous in their presence before. Had the cat lost her mind? Did she think there wouldn’t be consequences to her actions? What did she do next?

She lay down. Yes, she did. She laid down. The boards of the deck had undoubtedly been warmed by the morning sun. She laid down in the remaining patch of sunlight. What did Tux and Grace do? Nothing. They did nothing. They didn’t bark, they didn’t insist on being let out, they didn’t do anything. That’s how stunned they were at the cat’s behavior. 

The cat, of course, lost interest in the game when Tux and Grace would do nothing but stare at her. She got up and stretched - first one rear leg and then the other. She calmly went out the way she had come in - slithering gracefully beneath the gate. She knew she’d won. I’m not sure Tux and Grace realized they’d been had. It took them several minutes to understand that the cat wasn’t coming back. She’d done what she’d set out to do. She shamed them both. Only they didn’t realize they’d been had.

Hours later, Tux is still checking out the deck. The cat hasn’t come back. If she does, however, Tux will be ready for her this time.

Lesson Learned

We can sometimes be stunned into silence by the arrogance of another. That doesn’t mean we don’t care or, indeed, we condone the behavior of the arrogant one. What it does mean, though, is that if we don’t find our voice and our willingness to act, the arrogant one will assume we condone his behavior and use our silence and inaction against us. Sound familiar? It should since it’s exactly what the politicians are doing to us right now.

Older Dog Wisdom - Grace 2: Cancer Surgery

Grace had surgery. While difficult on her, I do believe it was worse for me. 

I first noticed the problem in February when she began licking her front right paw. She didn’t seem to be in pain, she wasn’t limping or crying out when she jumped down from things. There was only her persistent licking of the paw. Then she began limping slightly.

I took her to the Vet when I noticed an odor emanating from the paw. It could have been because she was licking it all the time or it could be that something worse was going on. I hoped it was the former. 

The vet examined her, declared it was only an infection, and sent us home with antibiotics, pills to reduce the swelling, and a medicated shampoo in which to soak the paw. 

We followed the vet’s orders. She took the pills like a trooper (mainly because they were buried in globs of peanut butter, one of her favorite foods since she’d been a puppy). We went back to the vet. He pronounced her cured. I was immensely relieved.

She was not, however, cured. The licking persisted. She began limping even more. Things were getting worse, not better. We returned to the animal hospital (which I had asked around about and got glowing reviews on it so I took Grace and Tux to see a vet there), but saw a different vet. She examined Grace, and said we needed x-rays to determine what was really going on. When asked, she said she thought Grace might have cancer.

No! I cried out silently. Not my Gracie. Not cancer. 

The x-ray did, indeed, show that she had cancer of the toe, and it had already eaten away a goodly portion of her toe. 

The first vet never uttered the word cancer. His misdiagnosis of the cancer allowed the disease to eat away at Grace’s bone, and worse, perhaps spread to other areas of her body.

I took the x-ray to a different practice, and the vet there agreed it was cancer, and Grace needed to have the toe removed. Surgery was scheduled. The toe was removed.

Grace came through like a trooper, even managing to have the staff and doctor fall in love with her along the way. At home, she wasn’t able to jump up on the bed so she was lifted up and down. She quickly adjusted to the huge bandage on her paw. Within a day or two, she was running on three legs while holding the casted leg out in front of her. 

After several days, Tux, her brother, was rolling his eyes, sure that she was faking the effects of the surgery.

The pathology report came back confirming that it had been cancer, but also confirming the doctor had been able to remove all the cancer. She now has to return to the vet every three months for an x-ray to confirm that the cancer hasn’t spread.

Now, six weeks after the surgery, she is back to her old self. Reasserting her alpha dog status and wrestling the title of alpha dog from her brother, Tux, who is resisting her attempted coup since he had taken over while she was recovering. He wasn’t about to give up his hard-won title easily. 

One of the manifestations of Alpha Dogism in our family is who leads who out the back door and into the back yard. For a short few weeks, Tux got to go out the first. Then Grace recovered and now she’s back to leading the charge outside.

I have no idea who’s going to win the Alpha Dog War nor do I care. I’m just thankful that the two of them are healthy again.

Older Dog Wisdom:Tux 21 - Pawing the Ground

Tux has developed a new habit that has us flummoxed. I’m not sure why he’s started doing this nor how he knows to do it. Perhaps he thinks he’s the only dog in the world doing it. What I do know for sure is that, in his 11 years, he’s never done it before.

The Habit

When he’s finished doing his business, he has begun pawing the ground with some vigor. First, he gets going with his hind legs and then he adds his front legs. It reminds me of a bull pawing the ground before he charges. Tux, however, charges no where nor no one. He does, however, shower us with leaves, twigs, grass, and the occasional dirt clod. Anyone standing behind him is pelted with debris and, if there’s a breeze, he even manages to get some on his own back. I learned the hard way to wait until he’s done to bend down to pick up after him.

He doesn’t do it occasionally. He does it every time he relieves himself. He’s not posturing because there are other dogs around. Well, his sister is with us, but, as he’s said numerous times, she's only a girl.

I’ve thought about the whys of his doing this for a while, but cannot determine the purpose for this ritual. If he were using only his front paws, I’d say he was emulating the cats he’s shared his life with until recently. We don’t have a cat now, although, I’ve wanted one for some time, but can’t figure out where to put a litter box.

But I digress.

The other day, Grace did the same thing without the enthusiasm Tux brings to the ritual. Her pawing was dainty and half-hearted - as if she wasn’t sure why she was doing it, but because her brother was doing it, she was going to be supportive even if it was a stupid thing to be doing. She’s not nearly into it as Tux. She forgets most of the time to do it.

I was waiting to pick up my nephew a few days ago, and watched as a dog and his owner came toward us in the green space across the street from my nephew’s home. The dog paused at the trash can, lifted his leg, and then pawed the ground once, twice.

Encoded Genetically

Since seeing the other dog do it, I decided that the pawing is genetically encoded in a dog’s DNA. Tux has no say in the matter, he has to do it.

What I’m pondering now is why has it taken 11 years for Tux’s DNA to kick in and remind him to do this? I’m now reconsidering the DNA theory because of the 11-year-lapse and because he still squats like a girl to pee. Surely, if it was DNA controlled, lifting his leg would be of more importance than pawing the earth. After all, who wants to spend a lifetime peeing on one’s own front leg?

Tux has lifted his leg twice in his life and didn’t see any reason to continue the practice. He enjoys flinging leaves and twigs out behind him so he continues to do that even though I’m sure he doesn’t understand why he does it, nor, indeed, does he care why he does it - it makes him feel good, so he does it.

Lesson Learned

Perhaps our lesson this week is if writing makes us feel good then we should continue to write even in the face of rejection after rejection. We certainly won’t be the first author to face tens, if not hundreds, of rejections. Some of the greats were rejected many, many times and they didn’t quit writing, did they?

Older Dog Wisdom 17: Sweet Compassion

Tux is the kind of guy who’s tough when he’s protecting his family, and a softie when no one is looking.

When my nephew comes to visit, Tux gets all squishy around him. He loves Zack. He’ll follow him around the house and even goes outside with him when Zack goes out on the deck to smoke. Zack loves Tux. Instead of going out front, he goes out back with Tux,

I recently had cancer surgery on my nose. When I came home, I had a humongous bandage on my nose. Tux and his sister were very glad to see me. One of the first things Tux did after I settled down in my favorite chair was to crawl up into my lap and lean toward me. I didn’t move, curious as to what he was up to. He very gently touched his nose to my bandaged one. His gentleness was so very touching and brought tears to my eyes.

I wasn’t surprised by his gentleness and caring. He senses when I don’t feel well. He’ll stay by my side if a cold lays me low, for instance. This, though, tugged at my heart strings because everyone I’d seen since leaving the surgeon’s office merely stared at me. And this remained the case for the next two weeks while I still had the bandage on my nose. Few people asked what had happened, most simply stared. I didn’t think the people asking were rude, and I usually said something like, “You should see the other guy.” They weren’t being rude, they were satisfying their curiosity. The people who were being rude were the people who stared.

Tux is not unique in being able to sense when his human does’t feel well. He’s like many other animals in that regard. He does, however, have a special way of making me feel better because he so obviously loves me. 

Lesson Learned

It’s really too bad that humans have lost the ability to care about others. I’ve been around people who think any kind of illness is a weakness and compassion for the weak has no place in their lives. I can’t help but hope that as they grow older and they become more susceptible to illnesses themselves they’ll find their compassion where they buried it long ago when they let their pride hide their compassion beneath a boulder. Surely, if Tux can do it so easily, so should a human be able to do.