Flush Puppies

Ok, here's an interesting idea...Flush Puppies, flushable doggie poop bags. These guys make it sound like they invented it, but there are other brands out there. Still, it's the first time it has come to my attention, which is hard to believe since dog poop bags are such vital element of my daily existence.

These, like the others, are made with a plastic film called PVA (poly-vinyl alcohol). I looked it up and everything I find seems to show that it really is water soluble and breaks down with bacteria. Then again, I'm not a scientist, so I'm not sure I totally understand what I'm reading.

Given our experiences with other "making the world better through plastic" issues, they'll probably find something dangerous about it after we've flushed thousands of them down the loo. But I guess the question is, would it be any worse for the environment than tossing your dog's doo in the local creek (a favorite of some of my neighbors, unfortunately) or preserving poop for eternity in a landfill in a normal plastic bag or some-time-less-than-eternity in a "bio-degradable" plastic bag as we do now?

Then there's the back yard dog poo composter...

If you're in a quandry, as I am, the NRDC has published a good overview on the options.

Where's ScruffyDog? Damfino.

They (meaning the blogging experts) say that one of the worst things a blogger can do is to not write regularly in his or her blog. The audience, who comes to expect to see new material, comes to the blog only to see the same post day after day, week after week. And, as time goes by, the audience gradually dwindles to nothing.

I fear ScruffyDog has come to the nothing point. One of my dear readers finally sent me an email asking if I was OK...she hadn't seen any posts in so long, she wondered if I had fallen off the face of the earth.

Sometimes it feels that way. When the pressures of work and life come to a peak, my creative energy seems to get supressed. This is frustrating. Because if there's ever a time when one needs creative juices to flow freely, it's when the pressures of work and life come to a peak. So I conserve my energy, parsing it out to each project until there's very little left for things like blogging or working on that historical novel I've been meaning to start for the past 10 years.

The one thing I do make time for, however, is playing with the dogs. If there's anything in my life that helps to replenish that well of energy it's canine companionship. I'm not really sure why. Perhaps it's because unlike human interaction, which is wonderful but draining on me, dog interaction takes nothing away. Sure, I expend physical energy heeding the call of the dogs' biological needs, trying to coax the poop bag open on a cold morning, wiping eight wet feet, scraping up the wads of dog hair that collect on the carpeted steps. But that's just stuff to do. The time I spend playing, scratching behind ears, rolling around and napping on the floor with Baxter and Kirby comes effortlessly to me. And it regenerates me in a way nothing else can.

So even though I may not always take the time to focus on my dog blog, I always take the time to focus on its subject matter. And that's what matters most.

Baxter's 9th Birthday Picture 4-4-08

A little late getting the image from camera to blog, but here he is...the birthday boy. I can't believe he's nine years old already! And still handsome as ever.

Moose-bear R.I.P.

I was on a conference call. Kirby was being very, very quiet.

Treatment #3 for Kirby, Baxter Tests Negative!

Treatment #3 was about the same as #2 yesterday. Sore bottom on the little guy and he's lethargic, but OK. He seems to find more comfort retreating to his crate instead of sleeping under the desk or out in the open in my office. Going to his crate during the day is a pretty good sign he's not feeling well... But his eyes are bright and he gets up and comes out whenever he hears a stir. I just wish I could make him feel better right now. But if it's like the previous treatments, he should be up and at 'em more by tomorrow.

I'm also very happy (and relieved) to report that Baxter's follow-up heartworm test was NEGATIVE. This is further indication that Kirby most likely came to us from the shelter hosting the heartworms in his system. Not that that's a good thing...it's horrible. And it's not surprising, given that a) Kirby and his siblings ran loose on a farm with no preventative and no vaccines until they were several months old, and b) he came from Northern California, where heartworm is more common than in Oregon. But I've been carrying around more than a little guilt over the fact that I was an imperfect administrator of preventative...missing a month or being late here or there. The vet says it's unusual for one dog to get heartworm and the other not to, particularly given that Baxter is a much older dog, and that's why the vet wanted to retest. Fortunately, the preventative we gave Kirby early on probably killed the larvae and made the adult worms sterile, so he didn't infect too many other mosquitoes.

Anyway, lesson learned. And I still feel bad about missing preventative doses. Honestly, having been a Portland-ite for so long (where there is almost no incidence of heartworm), I didn't realize to what extent that Southern Oregon is in a higher risk category. I didn't develop as rigorous a habit of giving preventative as I should have. And my husband wasn't tracking on it at all, since it was a job I took on. Now both of us are tracking on it, noting the day each month when our guys get preventative and reminding each other -- even though we're now back in the Portland area and it's probably not as critical. I just know I wouldn't want either of our dogs to have to go through this process in the future.

I've also commented previously here that good-natured people who adopted Katrina rescue dogs (50% or more were estimated to be heartworm-positive) sometimes unwittingly spread heartworm to relatively free areas... all it takes is one of the small number of local mosquitoes sucking the blood of a positive dog, then spreading it to countless other dogs. And Portland is full of good-natured dog lovers, so it wouldn't surprise me if that, plus global warming, plus the way these things travel wouldn't result in rising infection rates here. Well, at least our veterinarian has practice.

That said, I'm so glad there is a treatment for heartworm. I grew up in Iowa hearing, at the time, that heartworm was basically a death sentence for the dog -- a slow and painful death sentence. Early treatments were very hard on the dogs and many didn't make it. The new treatment is still risky, but with a 98% success rate, I feel much better about Kirby's odds of getting through this and going on to be a healthy, bouncy, happy little dog.

Now if we can just keep him from bouncing and racing around the house for the next six months, until he gets his follow-up heartworm test, we should be in the clear.

Treatment #2 for Kirby, Test for Baxter

We took Kirby in this morning for the second of his three-shot heartworm treatment. The vet also wanted to retest Baxter for heartworm -- he tested negative in December, but sometimes it takes longer for dogs to test positive and if, per chance, he was exposed last summer, it should be showing up by now. Our fingers are crossed that Baxter will still be negative.

Kirby is a bit lethargic, as he was after his first shot. They give the shot in the deep muscle of the lower back/hip area. Occasionally Kirby will curl around to bite at it, but for the most part he just seems tired. He also has his "panic smell." Kirby had this weird smell when we first got him as a puppy -- some of it is coming from his breath, but some of it just seems to come out of his whole body like a little cloud of stink. Now he gets that smell whenever he's frightened or really stressed. These trips to the vet really bring it on. It usually wears off in a couple of hours...hope so, because he's sleeping beside my desk...

The vet said the first of the three shots is the worst in terms of danger to the dog -- you don't know how they'll react, that's when the majority of the worms die, etc. Because Kirby did so well the first time, he's less worried this time -- but it's not over until it's over and we still need to watch him closely for a while. Restricted exercise continues for a few more months as well...

The vet said it's possible all the worms died after the first shot, but they can't get an accurate test for six months and the protocol says to treat all dogs as if they had a heavy worm load. So it's three shots no matter what. Kirby gets the third shot tomorrow morning. Poor guy, he still has a lump on his hip from the first shot last month, he got the other hip this morning. Not sure where tomorrow's will go...he's out of fresh hips to get shots in.

Thanks to all of you who are following Kirby's progress and who have sent your good wishes. They are most appreciated by all of us!

Yet another Kirby cousin?

No photo this time... As my husband was out for his morning run today, he saw another little dog that looked just like Kenny -- same color and proportions -- walking with a different person. They didn't get a chance to meet, but we'll certainly be keeping our eyes open next time we're in that neighborhood.

Maybe dogs are like cars. Every time I get a new car, or even think about getting a particular model, I suddenly see them EVERYWHERE. Of course, we've had Kirby for well over a year now, but I know my ability to spot shaggy little black-and-tan dogs is definitely more acute.

Meet Kenny, Another "Kirby Cousin"

We made a trip to the natural health pet store today to pick up some more Hawthorn Plus (supplement to help minimize side effects of Kirby's heartworm treatment). While we were there, a women came in with a little dachsund/terrier mix that looked a LOT like Kirby, only with a tad more dachsund blood -- very short legs and slightly longer ears. His name is Kenny and he's about a year old. He came from a shelter in Albany, Oregon.

I immediately thought of Kirby's dog park "cousin" Paco, who came from a shelter in Southern Oregon. Kirby came from a shelter in Northern California. Kenny's owner said she met someone who got a dog from a shelter at the Oregon Coast who looked exactly like Kenny and was about the same age.

Could there be a little, wire-haired, black-and-tan dachsund/terrier Romeo populating the West Coast?

Most likely there are many. I know the black-and-tan color markings are very common across multiple breeds and they often show up in mixed-breeds as well -- probably a very old gene in the canine gene pool.

In any case, little Kenny's tan markings are in all the same places as Kirby's and the dark part of his coat, while a little longer and softer than Kirby's, has the same mix of black and gray. His eyes have the same shape and the same dark intensity as Kirby's and that little black button of a nose is almost identical. And, of course, like Kirby at age one, Kenny wouldn't sit still long enough for me to snap a clear photo with my cell phone camera!

While I strongly believe all dogs should be spayed or neutered unless they are being shown and/or responsibly bred as part of a purebred breeding program, I still can't help but be charmed by the little "serendipity" dogs -- the black-and-tan happy accidents that charm us with their sweet, spunky little personalities and charming good looks.

Speaking of Paco, here's the latest from Cheryl down in Baja. He definitely has the shortest hair of the three...Kirby's a mix of the two. But those eyes and that face...

The Moose are Back

I've been remiss in my mending. This past Christmas Kirby got a soft, little stuffed moose from my mom. It was adorable...tan with a pink tummy, pink antlers, pink nose and pink feet. It had a little squeaker in it's tummy. Kirby was thrilled. For the first 15 minutes or so he ran around the room showing it to everyone and squeaking it to his heart's delight. Then things got quiet. As we were all opening our Christmas gifts and eating cookies, Kirby was busy at work behind our feet. The next time I looked down, the little moose's pink tummy had been completely ripped open and Kirby was chewing on the squeaker. Little Moose lasted less than an hour. Other than the abdominal surgery, Little Moose was in perfect condition, so I stuffed him into a bag and decided I would sew him back up some day.

Baxter, meanwhile, had a big stuffed brown moose (aka "Moose-Bear") -- his favorite brand: Castor and Pollux. Baxter isn't one for squeaking, but whenever he gets a stuffed toy, he enjoys carrying it around, sleeping on it and occasionally ripping out a leg or nose. Of course, now that Kirby's around, Baxter seldom gets any time alone with a toy before Kirby zooms in and steals it. I'm not sure which dog was the culprit this last time, but Moose-Bear also managed to get eviscerated...but the squeaker remained. Moose-Bear went into the mend pile as well.

The mend pile lives in the laundry room, in a bag on top of a hamper. Every now and then I'll find Kirby sitting in the laundry room looking up at it and growling under his breath (it's as if he's willing it to come to him). Finally today I decided to get out the needle and thread and bring a couple of moose back to playing condition again. Little Moose got a tummy tuck...this time sans squeaker. Kirby seemed pleased, but a bit disheartened that no squeaking happened when he bit into the little pink belly. Oh well.

I mended Moose-Bear and handed it to Baxter. Bax got a good 3-4 minutes with it before Kirby realized Baxter had a toy and proceeded to steal it away. I tried to give Little Moose to Baxter, but he refused to even touch it.

I don't know why Baxter doesn't protect his toys...I'm not sure if he thinks Kirby is somehow superior to him or if he just figures it's not worth arguing over. In any case, Kirby is now napping with BOTH of the moose and, so far, their stitches are holding.

Cheese Dogs

Both Baxter and Kirby are getting a bit more cheese lately. Now that we are administering pills and supplements as part of Kirby's treatment, we have hit upon the perfect way to get him to gobble them up...wrap 'em in cheese. He doesn't even bother chewing, the whole mini-cheese-ball goes down in one gulp, no questions asked. The cheese of choice? Tillamook sharp cheddar. It takes a bit of work to get it squishy enough, but it works like a charm.

While all the daily dosage attention is going to Kirby, Baxter stands in the background wearing his best hang-dog expression until he also gets a piece of cheese (sans pill, of course).

Now all I have to do is open the refrigerator door and take out ANYTHING wrapped in plastic. I immediately hear the scrambling of claws on the hardwood and within mere seconds there are two scruffy beggars at my feet.

I'm sure the cult of cheese will continue long after this episode of pill administration is over, and I'll never again open the fridge without four ears going up. Well, up as far as they go anyway.

Spooning

For the past several nights Baxter and Kirby have been spooning as we sit and watch movies. Each time we haven't had a camera close by, so no visuals yet. Both my husband and I are charmed each time we see the two of them in this peaceful state, Kirby curled up in the warm arc of Baxter's much larger body, both sleeping. Kirby is finally calm enough to stay that way, not giving in to the temptation to chew on Baxter's legs or ears. And Baxter no longer gets up and walks away. The two have made peace. They're family now -- not just by our imposition of a new pack-mate, but by their own decisions to be at ease in each other's company.

So far, so good!

Kirby seems to be doing well on his meds and herbs and his energy level is pretty much back to normal. As we anticipated, our biggest challenge is making sure he doesn't get overly excited or start jumping (one of his gleeful habits). Interestingly, I think he does sense an increased concern or urgency in our voices when we tell him to stop jumping. He's actually listening and stopping, for the most part, which is really, really helpful.

Baxter seems to sense that something is different. He has been different with Kirby -- sniffing him a lot, tolerating a little more cuddling, accepting when we're paying attention to Kirby. I was away working when my husband took Kirby to the vet on Tuesday, but he said that Baxter was just out of sorts during the hours Kirby was away. And Bax seemed genuinely happy when Kirby came home. Baxter has always been an extremely sensitive dog and I think he knows something is up, probably by the way we're treating Kirby and by whatever different smells and information Kirby is conveying.

The vet put Kirby on a low dose of prednisone to reduce inflammation and I think it is making him a little hungrier. He's now begging for food with much greater intensity and keeps going over to his empty bowl to lick it. Oh well, at least it's really easy to give him his pills -- wrap 'em in pieces of cheese and they go down in one fast gulp!

Kirby's Home

Kirby went in this morning for his first heartworm treatment, which consists of a shot of an arsenic-based compound that kills the heartworm. The shot, which was given in his lower back, is painful, I'm told, based on the location. That seems pretty consistent with Kirby's reaction so far -- he keeps biting and licking at the injection site. The vet has him on prednisone for a while, I guess to reduce inflammation.

Other than the injection site irritation, Kirby is a bit low energy, but otherwise OK. He's on strict "no jumping" orders, and so far he hasn't even attempted to leave the ground. He's asleep under my desk.

Now we just wait and watch for any signs of difficult breathing or other reactions. As I've noted before, I'm told the most dangerous part of this is if a worm breaks off and goes through the blood stream it can cause a blockage somewhere. So let's hope those worms hang on until Kirby's body can eliminate them micro-bit by micro-bit.

So far so good.

Tomorrow is Kirby's 1st Treatment

Ok, I'm getting nervous. Tomorrow Kirby goes in for the first of two shots of his heartworm treatment. He's happy and playful as ever today. I'm just doing my best to not think about it. I know he needs lots of positive energy throughout this process and my being nervous won't help. That's not enough to keep the thoughts from running through my mind, however.

The good news is that a veterinarian I know who treated a LOT of heartworm-positive Katrina rescue dogs says she's had great results. She gave us suggestions for some supplements we could give Kirby to help reduce side effects of the treatment. When I went to the pet store to get one of them the gal there said she worked for years as a vet tech and never saw a bad reaction to the treatment.

So I'm hanging my hopes on those positive experiences. The vets in our area don't have much occasion to treat heartworm because it is not common here. But Kirby's vet worked in the Midwest for a number of years, where he did treat a number of cases, so I believe Kirby is in good hands.

Kirby's all bathed and smelling sweet. Today he gets his nail trim (we figured we'd better get the stressful things out of the way before the treatment, because we're supposed to keep him as calm as possible after the treatment). And he's thoroughly enjoying the tug toy we got him last week.

The great thing about dogs is they don't worry the way we humans do. Kirby's positive attitude will carry him through this. I have to believe that. And any of you who read my blog, please send positive thoughts and prayers to Kirby tomorrow and the coming days.

Store Dogs

I met a couple of great store dogs today. I love going into stores and seeing dogs milling about. It immediately puts me at ease and, honestly, it makes me want to give them my business. The first store was a fairly high end furniture store with a black lab curled up on a nice cushion. He looked up with his big brown eyes and when I scratched him under the chin, he rested the weight of his entire head in my hand, just the way Baxter does. I would have loved to give that store some business, but the sectional sofa I admired was about twice as much as I wanted to pay. Still, if I won the lottery tomorrow, I'd probably go buy that sofa from that store.

Next was a beautiful, black dog with long silky hair, this time at a pet store (yes, one would expect to find a dog walking around a pet store). I guessed him to be a Flat-Coated Retriever until he stood up and looked at me with big, droopy, soulful eyes. Big guy. I guessed Newfoundland/black lab. The woman working there said he was a stray, found wandering around the East side of town. They picked him up at the shelter. Breed-wise they had guessed the same thing. In any case, you couldn't find a sweeter, calmer dog. Who could leave a dog like that behind?

Baxter would make a wonderful store dog. I could just see him padding around and napping all day long, occasionally walking up to a shopper to sweetly say hello.

Kirby's New Favorite TV Show

Ok, well, it's sort of a show. I saw an ad for our cable provider's "on demand" channel for the local Humane Society. I figured I'd give it a look... Other than poor sound quality, the little video clips of each dog were really quite sweet and, of course, I wanted to run right down there and bring them all home. (Not until I live on a farm...) The best part was watching Kirby. As soon as the dogs came on, he was riveted to the TV. He stood there, tail wagging, watching the dogs trot around, pant and look sweetly into the camera. I'm amazed at the length of Kirby's attention span when he's watching other dogs on TV. Westminster has a similar effect.

The really funny part came when I pulled up the local "Pet Finder" channel. This one features still pictures of the dogs, as one would see them on the Internet. At first, Kirby showed the same interest as he did for the Humane Society videos. He trotted up to the TV and stood there wagging. But as he realized the big dog on the screen was staring at him, unblinking, unwavering, Kirby got a bit freaked out by the whole thing. He started backing up and barking. The picture changed. He approached. Again, the dog gave him an unyielding stare. Kirby jumped back and started barking again. My husband and I couldn't help but laugh.

We could have sat there enjoying Kirby vs. the threatening Pet Finder TV dogs all evening except it was getting late and we were worried his barking would annoy the neighbors. So we turned off the Pet Finder channel and called it a night.

Interesting sidenote: we found Kirby on Pet Finder. Photo rerun ahead...

Kirby on PetFinder
asking to be adopted

Kirby Last Month

asking to go outside

Sleep Barking

Baxter is a sleep-barker. Shortly after he falls asleep, the eerie barkfest begins... Because his mouth is closed, it sounds as if he were barking through a pillow. He usually starts off with a string of muffled "broowoowoof" sounds, but at times it can vary from puppy-like whines to haunting howls to deep, intense, growls. These vocalizations are usually followed by some serious foot and leg twitching, as if he were in hot pursuit of something or other.

I think Baxter's sleep-barking is particularly interesting because he so seldom barks during the day. Kirby, on the other hand, is quite prone to letting his feelings be known in an audible way, and he rarely barks in his sleep.

This makes me wonder if the sleep-barking may be a manifestation of Baxter's repressed desire to bark all day long... Does Bax just lay there all day, quietly, when he really feels like cutting loose at every noise like Kirby does? And if we're ever successful at getting Kirby to bark a bit less, will he start sleep-barking more often too?

Labradoodle or Griffon? Labradoodle.

More photos from Cheryl in Baja...

This is Kuma. Cheryl tells me she's a labradoodle who spends a lot of her day in the Sea of Cortez. Given the resemblance to Baxter, the shape of the nose and the lighter hair around the muzzle, I'm thinking she could pass for a Wirehaired Pointing Griffon!

Either way, she makes a lovely addition to the Scruffy Dog photo collection...

Scruffy Dogs of Baja

Cheryl, our Ashland dog park friend and parent of Nemo and Paco (Kirby's look-alike) spends winters along the beaches of Baja. Occasionally she sends photos that brighten my rainy Portland days and make me ever-so-slightly jealous.

The latest email from Cheryl included a cheerful wag of the finger at my extremely delayed blog updates (I know, I know, work has been NUTS lately and 10 hours/day sitting at a computer is enough). She also included some absolutely charming scruffy dog photos.

This is a little 5 lb. dog named Minnie Me, she's about 5 months old and was rescued from the gas station on the highway. Cheryl tells me that a lot of Mexicans don't want female dogs and they leave them on the road or on beaches where Americans will adopt them. There is an American vet in her town who runs an all-volunteer clinic, and with the aid of another vet from Oregon does a lot of spaying and neutering. People just pay what they can, or not at all.


Chicita is about 2 years old and is a rescue dog. I'm guessing Yorkie mix.

Vaca is less than a year old and is also a rescue.

Boomer is traveling the world with his Dutch parents. He is not a rescue dog. Cheryl tells me he had a lot of fun playing with Paco & Nemo.

More pictures tomorrow!

grrrrrrrr, I'm such a pushover

A dear friend just sent me an email saying she noticed the last time I wrote in my blog was January 19. She was wondering if I was OK. I had to think about it for a second...well, yes, I'm OK. But I just couldn't fathom that it had been that long. Where does the time go?

Writing in my blog is one of those expendable things. It gets put on the back burner when work or personal things become too intense. And, truly, it shouldn't. It is precisely those times when we most need to be creative, to share, to enjoy our own stories and those of others. Trouble is, all work and no play makes ScruffyDog a dull blogger. And it's been a busy work time.

I guess the dog moments that stand out most to me in the recent past are all related to the dogs telling me it's time to stop doing whatever I'm doing. They need a break from watching me work. Somewhere, down inside, I know I need a break too. I just forget, especially when I have looming deadlines to meet.

But it's not just about taking a break from work...Kirby has developed this cute-but-annoying habit of thinking that the second I sit on the sofa, he needs to go outside. You see, it's OK to take a break, as long as it's a break with the dogs. Breaks that involve, say, eating lunch or sitting down with a cup of coffee and a book or watching TV are not acceptable. Not enough action. I might as well be working, as far as Kirby's concerned.

It's like clockwork. I sit down to relax and moments later I hear this little grrrrrrrr coming from behind me. I ignore it. I hear GRRRRRRRR. Then GRRRRRRR!!!!!!! Soon Kirby's front feet are on my thigh, he's looking me right in the eye. GGGGGGGGGGGROwowowt! (see previous post re: dogs speaking English). If I continue to ignore him, I get a full-on barkfest, complete with ear-piercing, terrier (make that terror) bark that could wake the dead. OK. I give in. Of course, he doesn't really have to do anything. He just wants to go outside and smell the rain and lick the grass and soak up a little Oregon winter.

And I know it will continue because I always end up giving in. "What if he really DOES have to go?" I think to myself. Yeah, right. What a pushover.

Kirby just stuck his little head up through my legs to rest his chin on my lap. grrrrrr. He knows it's time to get off the computer and go out for the late evening trip to the yard. This time I think he's right.

G'night!