Pit Bull Awareness Month

This is my dog.
     (Well, Randy's dog.)

Mocha girl.  

She is a lab-maybe pit-maybe boxer- mix.
     (A mutt.)

And a spoiled rotten brat.

I found out a couple weeks ago that October is Pit Bull Awareness month.  And while we are not completely sure that Mocha is part pit- we have tried to be good pet parents and ambassadors for the breed in general.  

I love dogs.  LOVE them.  I grew up with German Shepherds... I am a big dog kind of girl.  Before Mocha flung (flang? flinged?) herself into our world, we were shopping for a puppy of the shepherd variety.  We had agreed that we would get a puppy that summer, when I would be home to train it and housebreak it and all that puppy stuff.  

Little did we know, a teeny mutt had other plans for us.  We all know the story- sweet Randy was helping our neighbors move, and when they got to the neighbors new place, the previous occupants had abandonded their 4 month old puppy.  She had been locked in her cage for at least 3 days, with no food and water.  Randy calls me and asks if we could keep her.  There was a gross misunderstanding, and I was suckered into keeping her.  This was of course after many phone calls to lots of shelters and rescue organizations.  The rescue groups couldn't take her- they were all full.  The shelter would take her, but would euthanize her, because she could possibly be part pit bull.  

The thought of taking this adorable creature to a shelter that would only kill her broke my heart.  (Ask my dad- I was devastated, and hysterical crying.)  I just couldn't bring myself to let that happen.  It didn't matter to me what kind of dog she was- all I knew is that she needed to be rescued.  

And here we are, almost 5 years later.  We still aren't totally sure what kind of dog we have, but I do make a point of saying we think she is part pit bull. We try to be good ambassadors for the breed- even if she isn't part pit bull.  I've gotten to the point where I just might rescue some more pit bull type dogs- just to prove to everyone how incredibly sweet and caring and lovable these dogs are.  We have worked hard to have a well trained, well mannered dog.  And while she isn't perfect, and most of the time is scared of her own shadow, she is still a pretty fantastic dog who is throwing a lot of stereotypes right out the window.  

My point in all this rambling is this- if you see us walking down the street, don't run away scared.  Stop and ask us questions- we are happy to tell you Mocha's story.  She will love on you and let you pet her.... and if you are tiny enough, maybe let you climb all over her.   

She makes a great babysitter- and thinks that she can do a much better job of caring for children.

I'm hopeful that one day Mocha won't have to deal with the stereotypes.  People will realize that it's the person, not the breed, that makes a dog what it is or isn't.  But until then, we will take her wherever we go, and we will answer people's questions.  We will keep smiling when they cross to the other side of the street when they see us coming.  We will keep being good ambassadors- and hopefully change someone's opinion along the way. 

The girl can swim... sort of.

Last night, Mocha went swimming.

Swimming is exhausting!

Now, I'll ask again.  

Who thinks I am crazy?

Because what normal person takes their dog for hydrotherapy once a week?

Well, I think this might be proof that I am far from normal when it comes to this dog. 

2 rounds of CCL surgery have left Mocha a bit limpy.  (2 rounds of surgery have also left me a nervous wreck, afraid to do much of anything for fear I will continue to break the boy's dog. Blah!)  So when we went to visit Dr. Farthing, I told her I was concerned that she was still not putting much weight on her leg, and that I was afraid the second round of surgery hadn't fixed anything.  The boy-who does not always think worst case scenario like yours truly- figured that it was because she had had the same surgery done twice in 6 months, and that it was just going to take longer to heal.  

Now brace yourself.  Because this rarely happens.

The boy was RIGHT. 
(Yes- there it is- in writing.  Proof that he was right, and he wins this one.)

It turns out that occasionally I should listen to my darling dearest.  After I let him win, the vet suggested we take her swimming once a week to start building her strength back in her leg.  This was something Mocha was familiar with- after round one of surgery this summer, she was swimming at daycare once a week.  

So back to daycare we went.  Thankfully, they offer after hours swimming, so off we went.

Now Mocha is part lab, which means she should love swimming and love all things water, right?

Ha!

From what I was told, Mocha only swims because she knows it will make her people happy.  If the poor thing had a choice, she would definitely not be in a pool with her adorable life jacket on. But she swims.  She gets plenty of hugs and cuddles when she rocks it doing her laps in the pool, and our second round yesterday was much more enjoyable for all parties involved.  

So in case you missed it yesterday, here is Mocha girl swimming:

She just cracks me up haha.

It seems to be working.  After last week's hydrotherapy session, she would not use her owie leg at all for a good 2 days.  Last night, she was running around on it as soon as we got home.  So I am hopeful that this will make her leg as good as it's going to get, because Lord knows I am sick of being a nervous wreck any time the poor dog runs or jumps or does anything besides lay quietly next to me. 

Yes, I probably am crazy.  But I am okay with that- because I am fortunate I can spoil my dog with daycare and hydrotherapy and whatever else she needs.  She is a happy girl, and a good puppy.  And really, I know it is all worth it in the end! 

Surgery- Round 2

Remember my 85 pound problem from a few months ago?

Yep.  The same 85 pound problem came back.  

Of course it did.  Because it's my dog, and she just can't make things easy on me!

About 2 weeks after the boy got home from deployment in October, Mocha girl started limping again.  Everyone told me not to worry about it, that she was fine.  (Have I mentioned lately how much I hate that word?!)  I took her to the vet, and was told to keep her resting and quiet. 

So that's what we did.  When December rolled around and nothing had really gotten better, we took another trip to the vet.  She said that something just wasn't quite right, and suggested we take her back down to the surgery center in Richmond.  

Thankfully, we were able to get an appointment while the boy was still around and I was off of work for the holidays.  So on December 30th, we ventured back down to Helping Hands.

I of course had been stressed out for weeks- just knowing the nightmare I was facing once again.  I hated that I had done something wrong, and was causing the dog to be in more pain, and causing us to have to deal with this surgery again.  When we arrived, Mocha was so tense and so stressed out, they had to give her a short acting anesthesia.  Once the doctor examined her, we still didn't really know much.  Something just wasn't quite right with the ligament that had been replaced, and the only way to tell was to do surgery to check things out.  

So we left the brat with the surgeon, and spent the day exploring Richmond.  We went to an art museum (where I was quickly reminded that immature Marines and fine art just do NOT mix) and then did some after-Christmas shopping.  That part of the day was great- and I was happy to have the boy there with me for round 2 of surgery.

When it came time to pick the dog up- I was a nervous wreck. In June, the wonderful people at Helping Hands had to carry her out and lift her into the car.  She was completely drugged up and couldn't hold herself up.  My mom had to hold her down in the back seat the entire way home, and she had to be carried into the house by my fabulous neighbor.  So of course, I was expecting the worst.  The absolute WORST.

Thankfully, this time around was totally different.  Mocha came charging out of the back room like nothing was wrong, and was alert and wide awake and could not be happier to be running around giving everyone kisses.  I got all teary eyed when I saw how different she was.  What a huge relief!!

I must mention here how absolutely fantastic the staff at Helping Hands is- just absolutely wonderful.  Dr. Pasternak was sympathetic and understanding, and really made me feel better about the situation.  It turns out that somehow Mocha had stretched the ligament- and it's just not supposed to do that.  We were told that it was the most bizarre thing- and that she had never seen that happen before.  (Again-of course-because it's my dog!)  I am so glad that we were referred to this place- not only because they are so affordable, but because they genuinely love and care for your pet when they are there. 

Now, I am a professional at post recovery ACL repair in dogs.  Not something I really thought I'd be an expert at, but hey, it's all good!  Mocha's stitches came out this past Tuesday, and everything is healing really well.  I think this second surgery has made the dog a bit more cautious- she's still hopping around on 3 legs, but sloooowly beginning to put weight on her leg.  Hopefully by the time her daddy is done with his latest school, she will be all healed up and ready to run around with him again! 

Oh July....

I am OVER you already!

And it's only July 8th!!!

But wait- for once it's not because I am counting down until the end of deployment.  (Although that might be a teeny part of it...)

This month is already the most stressful month so far since my darling dearest left.  

This deployment- for the most part- has been smooth sailing.  

Except for one 85 pound thing. 

For some reason, I had myself convinced that this whole surgery thing would be cake.  I mean, how bad can it really be?

HA!!!

My mom was nice enough to come down to help me out.  Thankfully I had come to my senses and realized that, as stubborn as I am, and as much as I would LOVE to prove to myself that I can do ANYTHING..... it would probably be a good idea to have her here for help. 

After the surgery, my mom literally held my poor dog down in the backseat of my car, for the entire 2 hour trip home.  (Thanks VDOT for having construction on 95 north at 4:30 in the afternoon!) Mocha cried and whimpered and whined because she was just in so much pain.  When we got back home, we couldn't even get her out of my car.  Luckily, my wonderful neighbor came over and got her out for us.  I have no idea what we would have done if he weren't sitting on his porch!  We immediately put her in her crate and gave her the meds that were prescribed.  She cried and whine for another 2 hours, before finally falling asleep.

I was pretty much on the verge of a complete and utter meltdown.  I felt like the worst person in the world, and was confident the dog would hate me forever for doing this to her.  

Turns out that Thursday night was the worst of it.  By Friday afternoon, she was starting to perk up and eat a little bit here and there.  I thought that it would all be smooth sailing from there.

My mom left to go home to PA Wednesday when I left for work.  I should have known that military wives' Murphy's Law would kick in as soon as she left.  I really don't know why I was so surprised that everything went straight to hell.  I should have expected it really!

I got home from work, took the pup out, and noticed some blood coming out of her.  Seriously?!  So I called the vet who did the surgery, and she said that she was concerned, and suggested that I take her to our regular vet in the AM.  Well, there was NO way I was waiting until the morning to take her to the vet.  There was something wrong with her NOW, and so off to the emergency vet we went.

Now, please keep in mind, my dog is not supposed to be putting any sort of weight on her leg, or jumping and moving it suddenly.  I have an SUV.  I had to lift my dog into the car by myself.  I think sheer panic and adrenaline kicked in- because somehow I managed to do that-twice! 

We arrived at the emergency vet as soon as they opened.  The vet there explained that the painkiller she had been given can cause GI tract irritation, and bleeding, so that was what it was from.  I'm just so thankful that's all it was!  We were prescribed a 3rd antibiotic, and sent on our merry way.

Enter the longest night ever.  Since I was completely freaked out that something would happen to her in the middle of the night, I slept on the couch downstairs with her.  I was awake at 1am, 4am, 5:30am, and then finally at 6:30 when my alarm went off.  I have never heard such grumblings coming out of a dog's stomach. 

I can't complain much though.  She is already back to normal, and recovering quite well from her surgery.  So really, if this is the worst I have to deal with, I will take it.

At least things can only get better from here!!

My Abbie

Abbie
April 23, 2002- June 28, 2011

Yesterday just sucked.  There's really no other word to describe it. 

My dad called me at 7:14 yesterday morning to let me know that they had to put our sweet Abbie girl to sleep the night before. 

It came as a huge shock to all of us- I'm still in shock for that matter.  She was being treated for what we all thought was a bladder infection.  But Monday night, she started collapsing and was having trouble breathing.  When my parents rushed her to the emergency vet, the vet told them that she had a cancerous tumor that had ruptured, filling her belly with blood, and causing her to collapse and have a hard time breathing.  They had 2 options- emergency surgery to remove the tumor, and give Abbie maybe 6 months tops, or to put her to sleep, so she didn't have to suffer.  

They chose to put her to sleep- which I am sure was an incredibly hard decision for them to make.  

So now, we 4 are just sad.  Well, 5, if you include poor Milo, who just lost his best friend, but doesn't really understand what the heck is going on.  He's our family cat- and he and Miss Abbie got along so well- and were always playing and wrestling and chasing each other around the house.   

It's hard to explain how I'm feeling- but if you have a dog, you totally understand.  I truly feel like I just lost one of my closest friends, a part of my family, and I am just completely heartbroken.

We got Abbie the summer between my sophomore and junior year of college.  She was teeny when we brought her home- only 6 weeks old.  She was also a 3-1 decision, just like our first German Shepherd Saxony had been.  Except it was a different 3-1.... it was Mommy, Liz, and me versus Daddy.  Liz and I won again.   She was a family summer project.  We all helped train her, housebreak her... you name it, we raised this puppy together.

She was our baby, which of course turned her into a 75 pound mush.  She always was more afraid of her own shadow than anybody could possibly be of her.  (Are we seeing a trend with how we Sedlaks' raise our dogs.... they are all huge babies!)

We all spoiled her rotten- and treated her like a part of our family.  I swear that dog could understand every word you said to her.... well at least she looked at you like she did.  No matter how bad of a day any of us were having, all it took was one look at Abbie, and she would come over and lick your face- whether you wanted her to or not.  She was just the sweetest girl- and loved all of us completely unconditionally.

I think that's really the wonderful thing about having a pet- dogs or cats- they just love you.  No matter what, they just love you for you.  The tradeoff of that unconditional love is the hurt we all feel right now... which just hurts.  No way around it really.  

I googled a bunch of quotes before, trying to find the right words to describe how I'm feeling, and how much I'm already missing Abbie girl.  Here are a few of my favorites: 


"I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive."
     -Gilda Radner


"He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion."
     -Unknown


"If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went."
     -Unknown



"Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole."
     -Roger Caras



"My goal in life is to become as wonderful as my dog thinks I am."
     -Toby & Eileen Green

I come and go a lot now from my parents's house these days.  Every time I leave, my parents and Abbie stand in the garage and watch me back out of the driveway.  When I went home for my mom's retirement party last month, I remember looking at Abbie, and thinking that was going to be the last time I saw her.  I couldn't shake that feeling my entire trip back down to Virginia. 

I think I will always have a bit of regret that I wasn't there with Abbie when my parents made the decision to put her to sleep.  But I know she is happier now, and not hurting anymore, and I'm taking comfort in that. 

I have this mental picture of Abbie and Saxony playing together, wherever they are, waiting for the rest of us to join them.  And that is also a huge comfort to me.