Shameless Self-Promotion

As those who are my dedicated readers know, I enjoy making art--whether with paper, glue and scissors or my scanner and Photoshop.  I like using my artwork in my blog posts, but I don't want to mix my artsy life with my animal rescue blogging.  So, to that end, I invite those of you who might be interested to visit my new creative blog, "El Rancho Not So Grande" by clicking on the longhorn steer link in the sidebar.

I am not planning to slack off on "We Don't Rent Puppies."  In fact, now that my own dog, Taco, is over the crisis of his illness, I plan to do off-site adoptions again.  I can't have a foster dog until I get the all-clear from Taco's Vet, but I have some news about some of my adoptions, so I'll be posting some updates.

I began "We Don't Rent Puppies" a year ago last March, and I now have about 45 followers.  I'm nearly at 100 posts, too, which is a good milestone to reach in Blogland.

I appreciate all my readers' comments.  Together, we're making a difference in the lives of animals.  If you have an blog that I should add to my Blogroll list, leave a comment with the link.  Again, thanks for your support!

If you like what you see over at "El Rancho Not So Grande," let me know!

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Artwork:  My new dog-related business cards from Moo!

Lucky Dog

My Miniature Pinscher, Taco, is one lucky, lucky dog—after more than a month of battling a liver ailment, he appears to be fully on the road to recovery. Yesterday, he began eating out of his bowl, and not just sniffing disdainfully at the food. He’s more likely to follow me around in his normal nosey way. He’s had a couple barking spells. And today, the effusion (swelling) in his lower abdomen is clearly diminished.

He still requires meds, including some pills I’ve not been able to get down him. Yesterday he actually took a pill in a pill pocket! Now I have a regimen of meds to improve his liver and guard against ulcer formation. Plus, he’ll stay on antibiotics for another couple weeks.

I’ve not had a foster dog since his illness began and I’ve been too worn out from working with him to do off-site adoptions for the Shelter. My Adoption Team Coordinator has about given up on me. But I just couldn’t focus on the Shelter dogs while my own pet’s illness was so severe.

Here’s what I’ve learned from my experience with Taco:

1. Be aware that animal treatments are as comprehensive today as human treatments. It should go without saying, but it still threw me for a loop. Taco’s illness would have resulted in certain death perhaps only five or ten years ago. The Vets who cared for the beloved dogs of our childhoods didn’t have sophisticated blood testing, portable sonogram equipment and specially trained personnel to read the results. Plasma transfusions for companion animals were a rarity. All these procedures are readily available, for a price, to most Vets today.
2. Decide before your dog gets sick what you will do when presented with expensive (and often escalating) treatment options. One of my friends had some lipomas removed from her 7-year-old Cattle Dog’s torso. When her Vet asked if she wanted to have the tissue sent out to analyzed for cancer, she declined. “I didn’t want to know if the tissue was malignant or not. If it came back cancerous, we’d feel too guilty to not treat it,” she explained. “We decided we’d do the removal of the lipomas for the dog’s comfort, but we weren’t going to go further.” To some people, this may sound harsh, but it’s reasonable—my friend is committed to providing palliative care, but not treatment that may or may not work.
3.  Ask about euthanization costs before the need arises. Some Vets charge an additional cost to euthanize a client’s pet, and others don’t charge faithful clients for the actual injections. There are often other charges that are mandated—disposal fees, etc. Ask so you know ahead of time.
4. Decide what you want to do with your pet’s remains. If you plan to bury your pet’s remains on your property, you need to make sure local ordinances permit this. Cremation is a popular way to handle a pet’s remains, but procedures and costs vary. The April 2010 print copy of “Houston Pet Talk” has an extremely good article about pet loss, and includes suggestions on how to evaluate the services offered by pet cremation companies
5. Consider Pet Health Insurance. I don’t have insurance on my pets. My Mom used to carry pet insurance on her pets, but doesn’t now. I asked my Vet for a brochure from the company honored by my doctor’s practice (I use VCA, a corporate Vet, with franchises nationwide—the reasons why are better left for a post in the future). I’m not purchasing insurance, but I did review the brochure. I might consider it in the future. I need more information.

What do you think about pet cremation or pet health insurance? Leave me a comment!

We Are Nearly Out of the Woods

Buddies
Originally uploaded by Calsidyrose

Finally, I think we're on the road to recover with Taco, my Miniture Pinscher (left in the photo) who has been battling a liver issue since March 12th, when he got ahold of a dead squirrel. It's taken $5,000 (yup, you read that right, not that I'm thrilled about it) and round-the-clock effort but he's starting to act like his old self again.

We're still having to force-feed him 2 times daily (a high-protein, low-fat slurry fed through a big syringe) just to keep his protein intake up, but his energy and attitude have vastly improved. This week he has finally begun showing interest in his toys again--he got the "ugee bone" ( a bone-on-a-rope thing) and guarded it vigorously. Yesterday, he "stole" one of Cross's squeaky toys and pushed it at my hands, trying to get me to tug it. He worked at making the squeaker peep for several minutes. He is also starting to lurk under the table again when we eat. We're so relieved.

Would I have spent this much money and effort if I'd known up front what the costs would be? I don't know--we love this dog, but he's always been a challenge-dog. He is mouthy, pushy and doesn't always play well with others. I've owned a muzzle to use when I handle him for medical purposes for years. Our female, Cross, is far more people-oriented and sweet-tempered than this guy.

But we spent the money because he's our dog and we're responsible for him. The potential for prolonged treatment and vet bills is just part of dog ownership, and it is something people need to think about before adding a dog to their lives.

Animal Control Officer Accused of Shooting Puppy

A German Shepherd puppy belonging to a family in Galena Park, Texas (a Houston suburb) was apparently killed in February by a gunshot wound and found in a trash bin. Juan Enrique Hernandez, 40, an animal control officer for the city of Galena Park, has been accused of shooting the dog, rather than taking it to the pound.  Hernandaz is free on $2,000 bond after being arraigned on April 7, 2010, charged with animal cruelty.  Read the Houston Chronicle article here.

There's No Free Lunch--or Free Dog

One of my Dad’s favorite sayings is there’s “no free lunch.” When working with clients who are considering one of our Shelter’s dogs, I echo my Dad’s assessment, adjusting it to, “There are no free dogs.”

Recently, our Shelter altered its fee structure, reducing the cost to adopt a dog or cat from $100 to $75. We also offer lower fees for senior animals, multiple adoptions and long-term Shelter animals. The current fee includes the animal’s spay/neuter, rabies shot, bordetella preventive, yearly vaccination, microchip and a heartworm test (but not treatment, if needed). This is quite a deal—the spay or neuter alone can run around $300 at a local Vet’s office, once meds and other costs are added.

However, many of our clients feel that even $75 is too much for a Shelter dog. True, many of our dogs will need additional Vet attention to combat Shelter-induced infections such as kennel cough, worms, mange, mites, fleas, coccidia and other ailments, but no matter how you look at it, the point-of-purchase (and let’s face it, legally, this is a sale, not an adoption) cost is the least expensive part of owning a dog.

If you get your dog from Craigslist, you can get a “free dog” but most of the ads I see list a “re-homing” fee (which is really a price) ranging from $25 to $800. Of course, the Craigslist flaggers get busy when the “re-homing fee” for a dog is more than $100, but their vigilance has more to do with the stated rules of Craigslist than anything else. In our local paper, some breeds of puppies are marketed at $1,800 or more.

No matter the take-home cost, dogs are not “maintenance-free.”

Regular basic care for a year (including heartworm prevention, regular shots, one Wellness Vet visit with routine shots & fecal/blood tests, decent food and purchases such as bedding, leashes and a few toys) in our area runs about $300 to $600, depending on the size of the dog.

And that’s assuming your dog doesn’t get sick, hit by a car, attacked by another dog or otherwise suffer a serious illness or contract a chronic condition.

For most folks, the costs of a caring for a healthy dog are not problematic. The joy of having a companion animal is well worth it. But when an animal is ill, all bets are off.

So far, I’ve spent about $5,000 treating my dog, Taco, for a severe liver infection due to his dog-natural tendency to nom on dead squirrels. He is about 9 or 10 years old, and was very healthy before this illness. When I opted to start treatment, I was prepared for $2,000 but not double that and more. At each step, I asked my Vet, “Am I throwing money at a dying dog?” And each time, it was clear I was dealing with a critically sick dog, but not one that was at death’s door—unless I simply decided to stop treatment entirely. Of course, the outcome electing not to do IV fluids and one plasma treatment (which were pricey) would have meant death for the dog.

I’ve halted treatments on my own dogs before (both personal pets and foster animals). I have even selected euthanasia when the Vet recommended it. In short, I don’t think I’ve plunged blindly into trying to heroically save a dog’s life when I should have simply “let him die.”

I have sacrificed my summer vacation and a computer upgrade to treat this dog. I haven’t been able to do off-site work or take on a new foster dog. I have learned how to do all sorts of things I never dreamed I’d need to know how to do—how to muzzle and force meds down a dog, how to administer sub-cu fluids, and how to give a dog an enema. I am out of money and worn out. And it’s not over yet. My dog is still not fully recovered. He’s a lot better, and he’s one lucky dog, but he sure as heck ain’t a “free dog.”

When I’m back doing off-sites and my clients start fretting about the cost, I may have to remind them that the cheapest part of dog ownership may well be the point of purchase.

How to Hold a Nippy Dog

We are learning all sorts of new skills from our experiences with my Min Pin, Taco, who has been battling severe gastro-intestinal illnesses since March 12^th.

A very dear friend of mine has been helping me give Taco sub-cu fluids (I’ve learned how to hold the needle in place once she slides it under the skin).  Today we reviewed the process for the “Vet Tech Hug,” which allowed us to administer medicines (pills crushed and dissolved in distilled water and Hills Science Diet A/D food mixed into a thick slurry (20 ccs at a time, administered by mouth through a big syringe).  Taco’s severe pain has made him extremely bitey, and I’ve got bruises and small punctures from his sharp teeth.  Fortunately, he is a small dog, so the bites are small, but his jaws are very powerful.  It hurts like the dickens when he clamps down on a fingerful of Nutri-Cal.

The “Vet Tech Hug” method requires two people, a towel and a slip leash.  The towel is spread on the table to stabilize the dog.  The slip leash is for back up control at the beginning and end of the hug.  The dog is left un-muzzled for this process.  The holder encircles the dog’s neck, using the crook of the elbow like a vise to still the dog’s neck and lift the dog’s snout toward the ceiling.  With the other arm, the holder encircles the dogs body—I’m more comfortable putting my arm over the topline, but it can be easier to slide the arm underneath the dog’s belly.  You pull the dog toward your torso, hugging the animal in a firm squeeze.

I do the holding, and I have to get the grip right on the first go, otherwise, a dog Taco’s size can get leverage with his forelegs and pull his neck out of the grip or snap at my face.  I don’t have a photo, but you can get the idea of the position from the picture above, which I found on Flickr.

While the dog is in my arms, my friend or my husband can take a prepared syringe and squeeze liquefied pills or food into the dog’s mouth.  The key is to place the tip of the syringe in the small gap between the perimolars, as shown in the diagram below.  The dog may mouth the syringe with its canines, but it’s almost impossible for the dog to bite down.  Plus, this puts the syringe tip far enough back in the mouth that the dog is forced to swallow the liquid.

So far, we have given Taco half of his medication dosage for the day and have fed Taco 60 ccs of liquid food (20 ccs at a time, every hour and a half).  The third syringe of food went down with only minimal resistance on Taco’s part.  We’ll feed him again twice before bed tonight and give him his meds.

On Monday, Taco will have another sonogram.  My Vet reviewed the numbers on his liver bloodwork and she suspects sludge in the gallbladder.  A sonogram will confirm that and give us a clear look at the liver and other organs.  Yes, it’s another expense, but if the gall bladder has been affected, it’s actually one of the easier issues to treat.  There’s a possibility that Taco has developed pancreatitis, but we’ll have to wait until Monday.  For now, the key is to get him eating (hopefully on his own) and to get his meds down his throat without getting bitten.

Memories of Old Yeller

We all know what happened to “Old Yeller” in the classic book and Disney film, and we all bawled our eyes out. Of course, back in the days when Old Yeller fought bears and contracted rabies, advanced veterinarian treatments were non-existent.

Today, vet care is as sophisticated as human medical care—even if it is without a bitter Congressional fight—and owners can treat their animals for an ever-expanding range of maladies at an ever-increasing cost.

I’ve spent more than $3,000 on a rescue dog I’ve owned for 10 years. Back when we went to the PetsMart adoption event, we never visualized this, of course. We saw a cute, spirited Miniature Pinscher. We didn’t know he would be a dominant, nippy little twit, but after all these years, we love him, even with his drawbacks.

I was describing Taco’s recent illness to a group of friends, and an older man began describing how his family cared for the dogs of his youth: “We had dogs on our farm in Wisconsin,” he said. “And we never did much for them, but they were healthy and lived a long time. We didn’t even feed them fancy dog food. And we never took them to a Vet. We might have called a Vet for a cow, maybe, but never for a dog.” He was appalled that I had spent so much on “just a dog.”

I didn’t get into it with the gentleman, but 30 or 40 years ago, when he was a boy in Wisconsin, a farm dog might have lived for 3 or 4 years before getting injured, ill or hit by a vehicle. Dogs simply “ran off” never to be seen again. Even when I was a kid in the 1960s, if you had a dog that lived to be 7 or 8, that was an “old dog.” A very old dog.

Most Vets still consider a dog a senior at age 7, but vaccinations, spay/neuter programs, better food nutrition, preventive health checks and a growing list of drugs and treatment options have extended the life-span of our pets. Today, I meet people with 14-year-old Golden Retreivers who still take (slow) daily walks and 18-year-old Dachshunds who might be hobbled with cataracts and toothless, but they still have pep. Advances in Vet care today mean that if you want to spend the money, you can provide your ill pet with blood transfusions, open heart surgery, joint replacement and sophisticated cancer treatments.

Have I spent too much on my nasty little Min Pin? I don’t know. As I told my husband, the time to decide how much you want to spend is BEFORE you are involved in a full-bore treatment plan. I could have stopped, I suppose, after my first visit—skipping the pricey emergency care and nixing the follow-ups. My dog would be dead now simply due to system collapse and dehydration. I’m taking him to the Vet this morning, after watching him slip into a decline last night. However, this morning, his whole attitude seems better.

Still, I warned my daughter that we might have to make that big Decision with this dog. I told I needed to be honest with her—I needed to know if she wants to be with Taco when/if euthanization is needed. She said yes she did. Meanwhile, my conscience won’t let me just abandon this dog to death if reasonable efforts will help him improve. My Vet, at this point, believes he is a good candidate for total recovery. So for now, I will hand over my credit card.