The dog days of summer

On some days, it's just too hot to go outside.

So on those days, they choose to stay inside.

On the sofa.

So they can do absolutely nothing.

'Cause that's how they roll...

Oh, the life :)

Fergie

Six weeks ago, Ferguson was diagnosed with heart worms. This was the latest in a long line of ailments since we adopted him a little over a year ago. In fact, the very day we learned of his infection the doctor had suggested that we start visiting a dermatologist in Maryland for a skin condition we have yet to control. Funny, I thought-- I don't have a "relationship" with a dermatologist myself, and here I am... readying myself to embark on a journey with one... an entire state away... for my dog!

The skin-related frustrations were to be put on hold, however, as a much more critically sinister, life-threatening condition now waged war against my pup. Heart worms, contracted by the bite of an infected mosquito, lead to certain death in a dog when left untreated. Ferg had been receiving preventative meds since he'd been in our home, though, so this new diagnosis completely threw me (us) for a loop. The skinny of it all-- from the time of infection, it takes 6 months for a blood test to give a positive result. Clearly, Ferg was infected before we adopted him, which truly comes as no surprise given the litany of struggles that poor pup has had to face due to the neglect and cruelty of his previous owner. Now, a year later, the fight was on.

When Ferg started treatment one month ago, Mosby-- the gray ghost/my other constant companion-- went to live, temporarily, at the Ritz Carlton for pups (a.k.a. Camp Grandmom). He's been abiding in the lap of luxury with Mom's & Dad's dogs for 4 weeks now, but boy oh boy do I miss that boy! Fergie, on the other hand, has been at home... quiet and lonely, bored (I think) and restrained. He misses his pal. He misses his walks. He misses his rough and tumble playtime in the backyard. Because while undergoing treatment, he can't wrestle or romp or exert himself in any strenuous manner.... in any way that might raise his heart rate beyond a resting level. And let me just state for the record-- with a two and a half year old pup, that's no easy task.

Enter last night. At 7: 30 I drove to the vet's office to pick him up after his second round of treatment. This dose had been twice as strong as the first one a month ago, and let me tell you... I was NOT prepared for what I saw. When the technician brought him out on his leash, I hardly recognized him. He didn't drag her across the waiting room-- as he normally would. He didn't wag his tail until it nearly wagged off-- as he normally would. He didn't kiss me all over and hop in my lap-- as he normally would. Instead, he simply collapsed at my feet. I noticed the slightest bit of a tail-wag, but that was it. He just collapsed. And rolled over. And emitted the most pathetic little whimper of recognition and delight.

Freakishly mindful of the time four years ago when, Jack, my best furry friend of 11 years, dropped at my feet (after a diagnosis of brain cancer), I struggled to retain my composure. Jack only lived for 3 more days. I wasn't ready to lose another one.

I carried Ferg to the car and laid him gently on the seat, and all the way home he cried. He cried when we pulled into the drive way, and he cried as Noh-man led him through the grass-- tears stinging Noh's eyes just as they were stinging mine. Thankfully, a spot on the sofa with his family gathered round did the trick, and within minutes, Ferg was sleeping soundly for the rest of the night.

Today, he'll surely be much better, and tomorrow even more so I'm sure. The toxins which are coursing through his body will acheive their desired aim, and thankfully, since the doctor caught the heart worms early, Ferg should recover fully. It's just a dicey and frightening ride en route.

In the meantime, I can't help but thank the Lord for this furry ball of tan and white... for the whimpers of delight amidst terrible pain... for the wag of the tail upon seeing his momma... for the hearts of his kiddos, gathered round to love... for the unconditional love he demonstrates every single day... for the lessons learned in the dark, when the way seems long and the way seems hard, and nothing-- absolutely nothing-- is a guarantee.

Because in those moments of frustration and fear and sorrow and pain, I can rejoice... because I DO have a guarantee after all... nothing-- absolutely nothing-- will ever separate me from the love of God in Christ, and while this life is filled with struggles and battles and conflicts I'd rather not wage, the Lord is working in all things, through all things, with all things for His glory and for His purposes. And if the hurdles I face in caring for this 44-pound bundle of energy and fluff get me closer to the finish line, well then amen... bring. them. on.

"For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory

that far outweighs them all."

2 Corinthians 4:17

Edit: At 8:30 this morning, Fergie bounded from his crate... full of enthusiasm, excitement, and strength. God's mercies truly are new every morning!

The next installment, so to speak

Years ago, when Chris and I adopted our very first dog, we started a trend...

each of our male dogs has been named for a Civil War General.

A Confederate General, to be more precise.

Now at the time we didn't realize we were doing such a thing;

it just sorta turned out that way.

And as the years passed

and a few more canines found their way to our doorstep,

that trend continued.

(yes, my husband-- the history buff-- initiated this pattern,

and the rest is, well... history :)

First there was Jackson.

Then there came Beauregard.

Next in line was Mosby.

And now, our most recent installment...

Ferguson!

I know, he's quite the sight right now, but I've gotta tell you, he's one of the sweetest little boys in town! Our family adopted him on New Year's Eve from a wonderful rescue league here in our area, and his tail hasn't stopped wagging since. To say that we are absolutely smitten with him would be an understatement... he's cruised right in to our hearts and taken up residence with all the other pups we hold so dear.

Now, for a brief explanantion: when Annie died last spring, Mosby was forced to fly solo around this joint. And while we all adore him beyond measure, we soon began to miss the pitter patter of additional paws. So eventually, we decided to start searching for another playmate. Now we didn't intentionally seek the most pathetic creature in town; again... it just sorta happened that way, for once we stumbled upon Ferg, we knew he was the one. You see, Chris and I have a passion for pups. All pups, but especially the downcast and the outcast, the unlovely and the unloved... and this little guy fit that bill perfectly. He's probably one year old (two at best), and at the risk of overstating the very, very obvious, he's been sorely mistreated and terribly neglected. I'm not sure how well it comes across in the photo, but I'd estimate that half the fur on his little body is gone...gone!... due to mange and other untreated skin ailments (see all that pink skin??), and in addition to the raw misery such conditions create, he's also battling an abcessed eye, a double ear infection, multiple secondary infections due to lack of timely medical care, and an emaciated frame. Thankfully, our substantial arsenal of meds is already making a difference, and the good, good eats we're pumping in daily are starting to pack on a few pounds. It's also quite amazing-- what a little bit (or a lot-a-bit!) of attention and love and good old-fashioned TLC will do~

So, Ferg's the new man on the block... and Mosby thinks he's quite swell. The boys are quite tickled with him, too, and they're glad we decided as a family to pick him. It's been very rewarding to watch them take a very active role in his care, and it's been really neat to see baby steps of physical/healthy progess each and every day. And his tail... his long tan tail with a white-tipped end continues to wag and wag and wag at an ever-increasing rate! Now that's a treat!

It still amazes me, though-- with each medicine I serve, with each meal I prepare-- with each touch across his sickly form-- that someone... some unfit misfit of a person... could actually allow one of God's creatures to end up like this. It's reprehensible & utterly inexcusable, but I don't think anyone would argue that point with me right now :)

So... when all is said and done, this little guy is going to be quite the gem! With a new coat and a healthy frame, Ferguson will surely be one of the most handsome-- and most loved-- little guys on the block!

And hopefully, in the months and years to come, I'll be able to share more stories like this... more success stories, I pray, should the LORD provide us with even more opportunites to open our doors wide to the unwanted and the unloved... to the abandoned and the forsaken... to those who have seen the other side of the tracks... that they might finish out their days, if only for a very brief time, with us... that they might know what it feels like to be loved.

Cause there's just nothing greater than that.

Sleeping beauty

Well, not really.  It's just Mosby... on. my. sofa!  And he looks awfully comfy, don't ya think?  Evidently his doggie bed just doesn't cut the mustard anymore.  Of course, it seems to be quite sufficient when I'm in the room.  But as soon as I head off to another part of the house... this is what I find.  Funny how that works :) 

Actually, I probably shouldn't be too upset with him-- I think he's modeling truly selfless behavior.  He's simply keeping the furniture warm until Beau & Sam return to reclaim their favorite spots (hee hee).  Don't you agree, mom?

A note of thanks

This week was a tough one for us.  After losing Annie on Tuesday (while Chris was out of town, no less), the boys and I tried our best to function as usual, but as many of you know... that's no small task. You can't just pick up and carry on as if nothing ever happened; it just doesn't work that way. The loss of a loved one changes things. There's an emptiness.  A void.  A missing element.  And reminders everywhere.  

Thankfully, Mom came to my rescue on Tuesday when I knew Annie's time was short.  She's been through this before and she understands. Thank you, Mom-- I simply would not have survived without you. Thank you for crying with me (I can always count on you!) and thank you for never minimizing my grief.  You are a God-send.  Truly.

And thank you to you-- my friends and family-- who expressed words of kindness and compassion and encouragement over these past several days.  I appreciate it (and you) so very much!  So many of you called or sent emails or left comments here on my blog; some of you passed along your condolences to Chris at work. Please know that your words truly did provide grace in our time of need, and for that, I thank you... from the bottom of my heart.  You took a moment to share your support, and your thoughtfulness means more than I can say~

And to those of you who loved our girl along the way, a million thanks.  She was our very first baby & a true blessing, and she will be forever missed... 

Annie

Yesterday we lost our girl... our loyal companion of almost 13 years.

  She was our Princess.  Our Beauty Queen.  Our Kitty-cat Girl... 

our faithful, faithful friend.  

I simply cannot imagine our home without her.

I held her as she died, and for that I'm thankful.

But wow.  My heart just aches.

Sam

There's a new dog in the family! Well, sort of.  This handsome guy is Sam ("Angel dog," according to dad), the newest four-legged addition to "Camp Grandmom."  Mom & dad adopted him from their local SPCA on the 26th, and since that time, mom has spent more time in the backyard tossing tennis balls than she's ever done before.  This guy loves to fetch, and somehow or other, that nose of his tracks down tennis balls that have likely been hidden for years.  Just when mom thinks she's confiscated every last one (so that he'll actually lie down and rest), he pops around the corner with another slobber-soaked jewel in his mouth.  In addition to a wonderful new companion, mom will also have the best toned right arm this side of the Appalachians for all the pitching she'll be doing in the weeks and months to come! 

Good news

Good news, good news, good news!

Guess who just got a promotion??

No, not Hubby.  

This precious little guy--

Yep, that's right. This morning at puppy obedience class, Mosby was promoted from the beginner class to the basic class.  How 'bout them apples?!  We're all so very proud...!  In reality, though, I'm not so sure this new found "obedience" will translate in to any new and improved behavior here at home (though I really do have very little to grumble about), but that's ok.  He certainly is one keeper-of-a-pup, basic class or not.  And hey, who knows how far he'll go?  Perhaps he has his eyes focused on the top prize-- doggy valedictorian (is there even such a thing?).  Time will tell.  For now, we'll content ourselves with basic, but don't be surprised if our little gray ghost continues to climb the educational ranks, one level at a time, until he reaches the very top :o)

Oh, and while Mosby's the topic of the hour-- here's something really funny (at least to me it is).  Check out the sign in the photo below:
For 11 months we've lived in this house, and before a few days ago, I never once realized there was a Mosby Street only 3 blocks from our home.  How crazy is that?  Evidently I live in la-la land, or at least spend way too much time there...

A puppy reunion

Throughout Mosby's adoption process I've come to realize that the staff at the Humane Society really wants happy families and happy, well-adjusted pets (and to that I say, amen!).  To help achieve this goal, they provide free puppy obedience classes to their adoptive families.  In nice weather, these classes are held in a large field on the front edge of their property; on rainy days, the group heads indoors.  Well, our first session was scheduled for yesterday, so as Tropical Storm Hanna zoomed up the coast, we traipsed up the long gravel drive to the barn-- in the pouring rain-- to learn how to train our pup.  

What we saw when we walked in to the room was this little darling:

Meet Smokey (in the red collar), Mosby's brother.  That's some resemblance, huh?  His front toes are gray and the white patch on his chest is much smaller than Mosby's, but other than that, you'd have a very hard time telling the two apart.  

A short time later, Neeco (in black) and Lulu (the golden babe)-- two of Mosby's other litter mates-- arrived for their lessons.  What a great time to have my camera on hand!

Is it possible to get four 4 and a half month old pups to pose for a picture??  It takes lots of treats and many attempts, but eventually...

Yes!  It can be done.  Is this a handsome bunch, or what?

And then there were eight...

Meet Mosby, the newest member of our family!  We adopted him yesterday from the Humane Society and are in love with him already.  He's a 4 and a half month-old lab mix with gorgeous gray eyes and darling little white toes (they match his chest), and he's as sweet as Chick-fil-a tea!  Our little man was rescued along with his mama and litter mates after mama went into labor in the back seat of a car (on her way to a very cruel fate, no less), and now, all 8 pups (and mommy, too!) have found their way to new homes and a fresh start.  So why the name Mosby??  Well, unbeknownst to me... 12 years ago, when we named our first dog-- Jackson-- we set a wheel in motion that my history-loving husband just couldn't derail. Stonewall Jackson, of course, was a famous Confederate general, and so was Beauregard, the namesake of our second male pup. (Naturally, Annie doesn't factor into this equation, seeing as she's a female) So here we find ourselves with our third little man-- a precious one in need of a new title-- and Hubby really, really wants to name him Mosby after yet, another Confederate general.  Not my favorite choice, I must admit, but when I googled John Mosby, I discovered that not only was he one pretty cool guy, he was also nicknamed the "Gray Ghost."  Now how appropriate is that??  So... we now have a Mosby... and he's wonderful!

Simply the best

Exactly one year ago today I said goodbye to my very best friend, Jackson, as he lost his battle with a nasty, incurable disease.  I never saw it coming... one day he was here, seemingly strong and healthy, and then 6 days later, he was gone.  Gone.  How was it possible?  I knew that, without a doubt, the days and weeks ahead would be terribly difficult to endure; I never would have guessed, however, that one year later the pain would still be so fresh.

I miss Jack terribly; eleven years together was simply not enough. Oh, what I would give to have him back...

Heavenly Father, please know that even though I don't understand, I trust You and I know that You had a reason for calling Jack home.  One day, I hope to see him again!  In the meantime,  thank you for the gift You gave our family when You gave us Jack... he truly was the best! 

Lollipop's New Friend

This is Cosmo, a spunky little wild man of a pup... and Lolli's newest friend.  He's a two year old golden doodle-- the constant companion of my brother, Dave and his wife, Wilma-- and a truly delightful dog.  This past weekend  he was the perfect host to my mom and my cousin, Corrine, Lolli and me after we traveled south to visit them all and attend a baby shower for Wilma (she and Dave are expecting twins in October!).  

We have all enjoyed Cosmo's company on several previous occasions, but this was Lolli's first encounter w/ the little guy.   She gladly shared her toys and her play mat, too, but when she started tugging on his paws and whiskers, Cosmo had to draw the line.  Fur-tugging was off limits; he simply would not tolerate it!  That was ok with her, though; eventually he came back and she, of course, loved every second of his attentions.  She even stole a few seconds of play time with Uncle Dave.  We certainly appreciate their patience and hospitality, especially that of Cosmo-- the arrival of a little screech owl could have severely disturbed his otherwise peaceful home, but he proved that he could hang... and he also showed us all that he will most certainly make a wonderful companion for his newest siblings this fall-- they'll be very privileged to have such a faithful, and very furry, friend.

Thanks, Dave, Wilma, & Cosmo, for your opening your home to us... we had a great time!