D is for Dog

Dogs have always been a part of my life. In my six and a half decades, I can count in months the times I have been without one.

This is the story of our girl Meeghan...

We  went into the pet shop to look...just look. 

Our beloved Yorkshire Terrier had died just three weeks previously, and a  large piece  of my heart had died along with Angel. I knew I could not bear to go through that pain again...I was done with dogs.

Angel

The shop was bursting with puppies that day – chubby, fluffy  wee dogs that did their bouncing best to get our attention. I barely glanced at them. Lost in thoughts of Angel, I was numb to the possibility of beginning again.

Turning to leave, we spied a scruffy black bundle cowered silently against the window while a much larger pup bounded on and around her. I caught her timid glance and felt something stir in me despite myself.  Michael asked them to bring her out, and once the shaky wee soul was in my arms, I was lost. The shopkeeper explained that this little one had been rescued from a puppy mill. As the ragged body pushed into me fearfully, he described the first three months of her life spent caged, unloved and filthy from lying in her own dirt. She was severely underfed, weighing only four pounds. I could feel every rib, every notch on her backbone...

There was no  considered decision to say yes or no; of course we could not leave her there. It was clear that she needed us. Even clearer to me, was the truth that we needed her.

Because it was St. Patrick's Day, we named our new girl Meeghan. Matted, dull-eyed and underfed, she was traumatized and fearful of everything.

As it turned out, I did not have to wait long for the pain I'd been trying to avoid. On the complimentary vet check provided, Meeghan was quickly diagnosed with a heart murmur...she had congenital heart disease that would prove fatal. The vet calmly suggested that we return her for a refund as she would almost certainly die  in a matter of months, if not weeks. It went without saying that since she couldn't be sold again, she would be euthanized, but not to worry, he went on...there were lots of cute and healthy dogs to choose from.

Meeghan had been mine for two days and  it was all the time we needed to bond. I was the first person to hold her. She trusted me from the start and I cherished her in return. There was no way I would give up on this little dog who'd never had a real chance at life. 

We immediately took her to our own vet, hoping for a miracle. He confirmed the diagnosis of Patent Ductus Arteriosus or PDA.

In humans and animals, a miniscule blood vessel that supplies oxygen to the lungs in utero should close at birth when the lungs fill with air. When it does not, the result is PDA, a condition that overworks the heart, fills the lungs with fluid and leads to congestive heart failure.

With Meeghan, her weakness and shortness of breath were all too obvious. She curled up beside my head on the pillow for safety and I lay every night with the sound of her speeding heart thrumming in my ear.

Our gentle vet offered two options: we could shower Meeghan with  love and attention...make her life joyous for the short time left before her heart gave out on her. Alternately, he could do open-heart surgery to try to close an incredibly small valve in a risky operation he'd done only twice before. The surgery would cost several thousand dollars and the chances were good she would not survive.

Neither my husband nor I hesitated for a moment. We had no idea how we could come up with the money, but we could either watch Meeghan suffer through a painful illness and die before she'd really lived...or put our faith in a doctor whose skill and compassion has been well proven. We simply had to give her a chance. 

The details aren't important, 

though it must be mentioned

that this wonderful

 veterinarian ended up 

charging us only a 

nominal fee for this 

complicated surgery. 

What matters most is that

 she survived the

 risky procedure and

 ultimately flourished.

 Four years later, she is a bouncy, 
spirited dog who loves her life 

and wrings joy out 

of every day!

She remains a scruffy girl in 

spite of constant grooming. 

As the runt of a Schnoodle  litter, 
she can enter no conformation 
shows.  Nor can we try 
for obedience or agility trials...our 

lackluster training skills being 
more to blame for a lack in

 that area than her obvious,

innate cleverness. 

No matter...we need

no certificate 

to know she's beautiful 

inside and out.

Meeghan is still hand-shy  

-she was clearly mistreated-

 ...is timid with strangers and rarely leaves my side. Her eyes search my face often in a day as if to reassure herself I'm still there. While she loves the rest of the family, there is no question she is my girl...we adore each other unreservedly.

Yes, my heart may be broken again one day, but I will always cherish this small saviour  who helped lift me from the depths of despair  when it seemed an impossibility...a precious companion who enriches my life immeasurably each day by her sweet and simple presence.

I am linking up to the wonderful ABC Wednesday. For a real treat, stop by to see more stories and pics from around the world...

http://abcwednesdaymrsnesbitt.blogspot.ca/

I will be away the week this is posted, but will get back to everyone as soon as I can...

.

 Since my children were small, I've made a great fuss over St. Patrick's Day. It was not something we did growing up in Ireland, but as a treat to amuse my wee ones years ago, I began to colour their milk and potatoes green for this special day.

.

The notion exploded, and really...how was I to know they would never get over it? Now a table of full-grown adults, and whomever else we can con into it graciously invite, gather at table each year to partake of green wine and a motley assortment of viridian-tinged victuals.

 It is great sport to check out the reactions. We've had guests who were quite unable to eat at the sight of dark, mushy peas crowding up against lividly-tinted spuds...and skinless chicken that glows fluorescent green on the outside and is fish-belly white when cut seems to repel everyone.

.

.

 It must be said, however,

 that others have fit

 right in, stuffing

 food into their mouths 

in the knowledge that 

it all tastes just 

the same 

anyway.

. 

These people we embrace  

into the family!

.  

.

This year, scheduling conflicts force us to postpone celebrations

 until next week...cancelling was not an option, apparently!

.

.

 I leave you

 with a few photos of previous dinners, and a collage of my girl

 Meeghan in her

 St. Paddy's Day pullover.

.

But should you hear the raucous sound of the Pogues somewhere in tomorrow's celebrations, you'll know I'm having a grand oul' time singing along with them!

.

Have yourself a wonderful day!

Shadow Shot Sunday: Dogwood Park

As British Columbia's main port, Vancouver attracts immigrants from every part of the world, many of them coming from South Asia. In countless neighbourhoods, including my own, this migration is reflected in the numerous nationalities that co-mingle on our streets.  

 .

I love living in the midst of this cultural diversity, and particularly enjoy when my Indian friends and co-workers prepare for weddings by decorating their hands and feet with mehndi. There is a unique and striking beauty to the art of drawing patterns and designs with henna that is simply breathtaking.

.

On a recent walk through Dogwood Park in nearby South Surrey, my attention was caught by the dappled shadows that patterned the dusty trails. 

.

They struck me as being

 similar to mehndi,

 though paling by

comparison with 

the complexity and

detail found in

the traditional

Asian adornment.

 

.

This off-leash dog park is

 a favourite for our Sunday

 jaunts. The lacy canopy 

offers wonderful shade

from the hot summer

 sun, a treat for dogs

and people alike

.

 

If dogs could smile,

you would see

Meeghan with a

grin on her face

every minute of

the time we spend

 in this park!

For a variety of wonderful shadow shots, do stop by Hey, Harriet and check out Tracy's Shadow Shot Sunday. You'll be very glad you did...

.

http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/

.

Yesterday, We Lost a Friend

.

 We have never had to seek out pets to adopt into our home…they have always found their way to us. We love them unreservedly in the brief time we’re allotted with them, and mourn the loss of a family member when it is their time to go.

.

Yesterday we lost our boy, Oreo, a sturdy, handsome tomcat inclined to stride about the cul-de-sac, asserting himself as the neighbourhood’s top feline, only to return home and immediately snuggle up in whichever warm lap was available to him.

Oreo was the grandson of our petite tortoiseshell cat, Zoe, though at twice her size and inclined to play rough, there was little matrilineal similarity. Zoe came to us unexpectedly one Sunday afternoon as we explored an old graveyard, cleaning off headstones to read the wonderful words generations past used to honour their loved ones.
.

A sudden squeal of brakes near the entrance caused us to turn, just in time to see a girl step out of her car, toss something roughly into the trees, and quickly peel out again. Seconds later, we heard a shrill, forlorn howl, and on racing down to help, came across the smallest, sweetest kitten I’d ever seen. In that instant, Zoe became part of our family.
.

Tiny and young as she was, we did not realize she was coming into heat, and in no time understood she would soon be having her first, and only, litter. The next-door neighbours requested a kitten, and though we warned them to avoid our huge error in judgment, they failed to have their cat spayed, and more kittens were soon on the way. From this litter came a cheeky black and white fellow their kids named Oreo.
.

In time, the people next door moved to a new house, a few blocks north of us on the other side of a busy street. Imagine my surprise, then, when I went out to the yard a few days later to find Oreo looking at home on the warm top of our picnic table. Luckily we had exchanged phone numbers before their move. We were able to advise his owners that their cat had returned to his old neighbourhood, and handed him over when they came by that night to reclaim him.

.

Two days later, Oreo was back, meowing a greeting to me from the picnic table as if that was exactly where he was supposed to be. We were not able to reach the owners quickly this time. We left a message on their answering machine but they did not come for a couple of days.

.

Oreo was definitely a leaner cat than he’d been and happily tucked into the food I began to regularly place in front of him.

.

Meeghan and Oreo with their toys

 When the old neighbours finally showed up, we voiced our concern about the dangerous main road Oreo had to cross to find his way to us, and repeated our advice that he be kept indoors until he got used to the new house. Though they vehemently promised to do that, Oreo was back the very next day.

.

This time, we did not phone…clearly when his owners noticed him missing, they would know where to find him. As several days passed wherein they neither phoned nor dropped by, Oreo effortlessly joined our family and has been with us ever since.

.

On Saturday afternoon, he could be seen sitting in the driveway, as he liked to do, surveying his little world with satisfaction. After supper, our son, J.J., came to tell us Oreo was dragging a back leg. It seemed reminiscent of an earlier leg injury, earned upholding his reputation as a scrappy cat, and with our son Jules holding him, we hurried out to the animal emergency hospital.
.

Expecting another cast and a plastic collar, we grew concerned when the vet spent overlong on his examination, and even more concerned that Oreo’s entire hind end now dragged behind when he tried to walk. We had never heard of Arterial Thromboembulisn, (ATE), a frightening condition that strikes without warning. The vet explained that a blood clot had shot to the aorta, blocking blood to the legs and hip and instantly cutting of circulation. Cats Stricken with ATE are literally fine one moment and paralyzed the next.

.

The vet advised leaving him overnight, where he could hook Oreo up to an I.V. and administer meds to help with the considerable pain, but warned us gently that the prognosis was not good…once one rhombus has been thrown, more usually follow.

.

We got the call at six a.m. to say our beautiful boy had passed away. I am grateful it was swift and his pain was short-lived, but am lost without his large presence in our too-quiet house.

You know we loved you fiercely, Oreo, and you showed us every day how much you loved us. I'm sure by now you’ve found Angel and curled up on the couch beside her as you used to do.

.

Please take very good care of each other until we see you both again…

.

My World: Snow Day!

My girl Meeghan loves snow as dearly as I do. Sadly, we are out of luck a lot of the time…in our mild West Coast climate, precipitation most often comes in the form of plentiful rain.

.

 .

You may then realize the giddy excitement with which we greet our occasional snowfall. In short, we turn into grinning fools…leaping through the drifts, (well- Meeghan leaps and I lumber!), chasing snowballs, and cheerily greeting other small dogs in their winter coats.

.

.

Alas...our snow celebrations are, of necessity, brief: by afternoon, we are usually wading through slush. But for those fleeting, magical moments in time, we happily throw ourselves into the glory of winter’s icy offering and grab from it every sweet minute of pleasure that we can…

.

.

I am linking up today with Klaus and his team at My World Tuesday. For a glimpse at many wonderful sights, do stop by the link below...

.

http://www.showyourworld.blogspot.com/

.

Friday Blessings

In spite of the problems and setbacks that mark our lives in these busy times, we have much to be grateful for. Too often, our appreciation is overshadowed by fear and doubt…we forget the wonders each day unfailingly presents to us in ways both large and small. I am making Friday a special day to count my blessings. Here are three things I am especially grateful for this week:
.

1) A good friend: My longtime pal, and poet, Sherry Blue Sky, surprised me with a glorious box of treasures yesterday. It overflowed with books and cows, incense and soap, and a few very special Yorkie treats. We lost our beloved girl, Angel, not too long ago, though we will carry her in our hearts forever. Sherry was able to find a frame that read, ‘Little Angel’ and download a picture of our Angel to put into the frame. This is a friend who knows me heart and soul. For her presence in my life, I will always be grateful.

.

2) A good dog: My little Schnoodle, Meeghan, is a furry ball of pure love! Her eyes shine with it every time she looks at me…we are devoted to each other. Everyone’s life is enriched by having animal friends, and I know I have hit the jackpot!

.

1) A good book: Few things feed one’s inner fire like a book that inspires and challenges us. As a continent dear to my heart, I read much about Africa, especially where it concerns her children. Melissa Fay Greene has written a brilliant book about Haregewoin Teferra, an Ethiopian widow who runs an unofficial orphanage for children left alone by the AIDS pandemic. It is not a comfortable read, but it is an important one. One small woman is making a huge difference in the world. What might we do?

.

A good friend, a good dog and a good book…life is a blessing indeed!
.

What are you grateful for?

.
I offer a few links to explore..my other blog has travel pics of Africa and an essay on AIDS orphans: http://theimaginativetraveler.blogspot.com/

Sherry Blue Sky's poetry/memoir site is definitely worth a visit:
http://stardreamingwithsherrybluesky.blogspot.com/

Pixie, of 'Pixie's Pages', has a fun blog: http://pixiepages.blogspot.com/

And she offered a link to Rachel who posts a Happy List that inspired me to try my own take on the idea: http://blackeiffel.blogspot.com/

.
Thanks to all you ladies for making blogland a magical place to visit!
.