Happy Mardi Gras!

From Gretna, Louisiana, and PAWdi Gras 2006, my little dog, Cross, models her hand-made "Mardi Gras" outfit, complete with sequins and funky fringe. She wore this under duress.

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

(Let the Good Times Roll!)

And throw the dogs a biscuit, mister!

Meet Our New Dog

 Tony Tony Chopper

I finalized the adoption today of a stag red Miniature Pinscher from the Montgomery County Texas Animal Shelter.  Meet our newest dog, "Tony Tony Chopper".  I didn't name him, my 16-year-old daughter did, after a character in the Japanese pirate-themed anime "One Piece."  If you aren't familiar with the show, don't feel bad!

 At the Red, Hot and Blue Parade. Chopper has slimmed down since this photo.

I first saw Chopper in late June, and I thought at first he was "Rusty," a stag red MinPin I fostered last summer (detailed in an earlier post).  I took Chopper with me for the July 3rd Parade (also in an earlier post), where my husband decided to walk him. He liked the dog, and so I took Chopper home, gave him a bath, wormed him and put flea meds on him. My little rat terrier mix "Cross" seemed to like Chopper, too.  My son was away at college when Taco died, so he had been pestering me (even though he's almost 21) to get a MinPin puppy.  I don't do puppies.  Never have, never will.

I didn't want to force a decision about Chopper right away--we had a trip to New York City and Washington, D.C. planned for a week in early July--so I arranged for Chopper to go to another volunteer's house for four days, until my son could come get him (my son went with us to New York but came home because of his job).  By the time we got back home, Chopper was a part of the family.

My husband was calling him "Brown Dog" and we were waffling between "Sam" (no one liked it except for my husband), "Rusty" and even "Tucker" (the name of our other foster).  While we were in Washington, D.C., my daughter decided there would be no more discussion.  His name was "Tony Tony Chopper."  And that was that.

We love his velvety ears and big brown eyes.

I put off finishing the adoption on Chopper because I had to decide if we were ready to take him on--he's probably about four, and he's heartworm positive.  He's going to our Vet tomorrow (I've decided to stick with Dr. Williams at VCA, but that's a topic for another post).  I'm going to have them check his blood under a microscope for filaria and probably do a general workup.  He's on the Shelter list for the 2-shot treatment, but that program is on hold (again) until the Constable (who is the County official in charge) decides how to pay for it.

Chopper isn't going to "replace" Taco, but we like MinPins, and he's the first one to come in at the Shelter. He's affectionate without being clingy and gets on well with other dogs, which is great for my fosters.  We can take him to pet events or the dog park--things that were hard to do with Taco.  He's small enough to sleep with my son or daughter.  He is a little barkier than he was at first, but that's okay.  He loves to play with chew toys, but doesn't get ugly or bitey when you take them from him.

 Cross likes Chopper, too.

And Cross once again is enjoying her walkies.  She had become pokey about walking alone--she and Taco were deeply bonded, even though they didn't sleep with each other or play together.  Everyone, including Chopper, is happy.

On The Hunt

Sometimes in the course of events it becomes necessary to take an excursion with members of the family.  As this is one of those times, I'll be away from my off-sites.  My own dog, Cross (AKA The Cutest Dog in the World) has gone to my Mom's house, to join the Chihuahua Pack.  Teencie and Tucker are still vacationing with their BFFs the Border Collie/Australian Shepherd mixes.  "Sam," the Miniature Pinscher who was my Rusty-look-alike is going to visit another MinPin named "Jake."  So, we'll BRB.

Fun with My Dogs

This is my daughter (yes, she has dyed her hair blue-green for the summer) holding a reluctant "Teencie" as we are now calling our skittish little Chi foster girl.  Teencie wants so badly to be held, but she isn't quite yet brave enough to let us do so.  We can scratch behind her ears, and hold her (firmly) for a few moments.  She whines and howls in her crate at night, so now she's sleeping with my daughter.  That is, she is sharing the bed.  This has made Teencie more confident.  We've had a her a week and she has improved tremendously.

This is Tucker, my other foster, right before his June 10-11 heartworm treatment.  He received the 2-dose, back-to-back Immiticide shots.  He's doing fine--the biggest problem is keeping him quiet.  He loves to run after birds and squirrels.  One of my Vet Tech friends says her clinic is out of Immiticide, and it doesn't look like they will be able to get more for awhile.  Our Shelter clinic ran out of the drug earlier this year, and so when I took Tucker home, I put his name on a wait list.  When the Immiticide doses arrived, I got a call--I made sure to get him in so he wouldn't lose his place in the line.

This is my dog, Cross.  She isn't really taunting you,  She is about to lick.  She has a licking problem.  She is powerless over her desire to lick.  She needs a 12-step group.

All Clear for Cross

My little dog Cross has recovered from her scrap with the foster Jack Russell Terrier (who has been adopted). I took her in for a final recheck today. The puncture wounds in her neck have healed very well—the deepest, most dangerous one (by her jaw) has developed a clean scab and has only a bit of swelling. No more drainage, so no need (thank God) for surgery. Cross is still on antibiotics, and needs to stay “naked” (no collar!) for a couple more days, but her attitude is great and she seems back to her old self. We owe our deepest thanks to Dr. Jessica Colborn at the Animal Emergency Clinic of Conroe and Dr. Beth Williams at VCA Woodlands Animal Hospital for their compassion and expertise.

Update on My Rat Terrier

My 9-pound Rat Terrier Mix, “Cross” went to her vet on Monday, April 13th. After putting $497 on the debit card, we’re in a wait-and-see mode. The most challenging wound is the puncture bite just below Cross’s right jaw. The worry is that Darla’s tooth punctured the salivary gland, which is a very tricky thing to correct as a punctured gland rarely self-heals.

However, as of Monday, we’re 48 hours out from the incident, and the good news is that there is no pus and the hematoma-type swelling that appeared after the fight (and which was drained by the ER Vet) has not returned. In fact, other than a little poochiness along the side of her neck, there is no major swelling. There is still seepage, but it is clear, minimal, and completely free of blood or pus. So for now, we are holding off on risky, dangerous, difficult (and costly) surgery.

The xrays showed no broken bones or teeth, and no visible tears in the salivary glands and no ranula (a pocket of fluid building under the tongue and no major mucolcele (swelling due to the leakage of saliva from a ruptured gland). The lymph nodes have been damaged, so there is some adenitis (swelling of the nodes due to retention of fluid). However, overall, Cross is a very lucky dog. Dr. Beth Williams, my vet, called a colleague to discuss treatment and the consensus is to watch and wait. I have to apply warm compresses to the neck to reduce any swelling, and swab the area with a surgical-prep cleanser to ward off yeast infection. I’m still administering pain medications and antibiotics. And on Friday, April 17th, we’ll do a recheck. I just hope we don’t have to do a surgery in the area of the salivary glands. Evidently, it is a rare and difficult surgery with many risks.

As of today, Cross has regained much of her spunk, and lets me swab her neck and apply the compress. She is eating well and is back to going on walkies (in a breast collar). She was perky around JoJo, a pit bull male dog who came home with me before heading out to a new foster home this evening.

Darla is back at the Shelter, and I plan to take her to off-sites this weekend if she doesn’t find a home or a foster set-up sooner. She was excited to see me and jumped up and down like a wind-up toy: “Why. Aren’t. You. Taking. Me???” she seemed to say. She is now on the top of my Shelter dog list, since my other Shelter favorite, the pit bull, JoJo, went to a foster home tonight! More on that later.

Thanks to all who have left comments and asked for updates!

Lesson Learned

I made a terrible mistake in judgment last night.

I’ve had dozens of foster dogs over the years, including various Jack Russell Terriers and mixes. But last night, I made an unwise choice. I allowed a foster dog, a JRT, Darla, to remain uncrated with my dogs while we went to Good Friday services. All the dogs had eaten, and been exercised, and we were only gone an hour and a half. Everyone had a bed to retire to, and I figured we would be okay.

I was wrong.

My husband came home to find the cabinet where the dog food bins and leashes are kept was nosed open. The leashes were spread all over and a box of dog biscuits (the only unbinned item) was on the floor. As best as he could figure, the Jack Russell had nosed the cabinet open—I had caught her nosing a different cabinet open earlier in the day (she's a smarty-pants) and had corrected her. He picked stuff up, chalking it up to the things dogs do.

He leashed all three dogs up for a final quick walk, which was shortened, when our 9-pound Rat Terrier mix, Cross began yiking and squealing. My husband hadn’t noticed, but Cross had been bitten in the scuffling over the biscuits. It turned out that she had been bitten quite badly—at least half-a-dozen punctures and the same amount of scrapes. The worst bites were on her neck, with the deepest puncture below the jaw on her right neck. She also had puncture wounds on the top of her back and inside of her legs. The JRT was unharmed and my other dog ended up in a room with the door closed, so he wasn’t involved.

It turns out, once I took her to the Emergency Vet, that she may have a punctured salivary gland (number one cause, according to the vet: dog-on-dog biting; number two cause: lunging too hard against a pinch collar or other rigid collar.). Unfortunately, this sort of injury doesn’t generally self-heal, so we’re probably looking at a pricey surgical correction due to a near-fatal mis-judgement of pack-order and a foster dog’s readiness.

So…$265 later (so far), 2 injections (pain control and antibiotics) plus Clavomox, and two other pain meds, we came home.

The dogs had gotten along well all week. They had been fed in the same room. There were no scuffles at all--just butt-sniffing and body-pushing. And Darla has a charming personality. I was already falling in love with her. But she hates the crate. I thought we'd be fine.

But the temptations of the biscuits proved too tempting to Darla, who came to me as an owner-throw-away. I don’t blame her—I’m the one at fault. I should have crated her, which is my normal (and now mandatory) rule. Since we had no toys or chew bones out (all those were put up) I figured the dogs would get along. But they didn’t.

I spent today getting Darla into a different foster home. I love JRTs (see my previous post) and know she was just doing what her breed often does. She wasn’t happy to be back at the Shelter, and let me know it with her barking. I feel bad that I had to put Darla into a different foster home after she’d just settled in, but I had no other option. My husband and daughter were adamant.

My little dog is doing okay—eating well, and a lot calmer now that she doesn’t have to cut a wide berth around the JRT. I’ll take her to her regular vet on Monday to find out what we need to do next. My husband dotes on our little dog, but thankfully, he hasn’t bawled me out for making an unwise choice in letting the dogs remain unattended. I’m doing an excellent job kicking myself. This is the first time I’ve had anything other than yowly scuffles and damp fur or maybe a small nick between my dogs and a foster.

I’ve learned a hard lesson about dealing with my fosters.

Meet My Mutts

I have two rescue dogs of my own—a 9-year-old male stag red miniature pinscher (adopted in 2001), an avid hunter who has never figured out he’s been neutered, and a 5-year-old black-and-white rat terrier mix girl with fluffy hair and terminal cuteness (adopted in 2004). Taco is named after the southernmost Taco Bell in Louisiana. Cross answers to her rescue name--as a puppy she had a white "cross" marking on her forehead--which stuck because she was the group’s official mascot for two years. Both dogs like living in Texas, and they're tolerant of the fosters who cycle in and out of my house. Taco requires payment in treats, but Cross just wants a little lap time without having to share.