Blogging Hiatus

An explanation is in order for the hiatus in blogging.

I could explain that I am of French extraction and tout le monde knows that the French go on Holiday for the entire month of August.

But I've already mentioned that John had a knee replacement.

So. I have been exercising whatever aptitude I might have in the area of home nursing. The pups have made their adjustment to strange appliances and machines. And I have more respect than I can express for people who take care of infirm loved ones over protracted periods of time.

John is on the mend. But blogging will continue to be light for the month of August.

P.S. The other Big Event on August 6 was an expedition to the skilled nursing facility where John was receiving physical therapy before coming home. With the help of my friend, Zoe, Bingley and Magic paid a visit to John. They were well behaved, but I don't think anyone mistook them for trained therapy dogs. Thanks to Zoe for making the trip possible.

Happy Day!

I have been waiting for August 6, 2010 for some time. Just how long is hard for me to pinpoint. Let me explain.

Penny, my first dog, and Mame, Champers and Britches, John's and my first three dogs were pedigreed. Pure-bred dogs whose births were planned, who were well cared for while still in utero. Penny lived to within a month of her 16th birthday. Mame lived beyond her 16th birthday. Champers died "young" just shy of his 13th birthday as a result of an vicious attack 18 months earlier. Britches lived beyond her 16th birthday.

I had this crazy notion that a dog's normal life expectancy was 16 years.

Then we started to adopt rescues.

Our first rescue, Daphne, a Wheaten/Whippet--or, perhaps, Greyhound--was 3 when we adopted her. I expected to have her for 13 years. A few months after her 7th birthday, she hopped up on the love seat in the living room for an afternoon nap. Forty minutes later, John and I called her for a walk. She didn't move. She was already in rigor. I was still in shock over her loss when we adopted our next rescue.

Zephyr was 4 1/2 when we brought her home--a very large, dark brindle retired racing Greyhound. When she was restored to health, she tipped the scales at 97 pounds. She was a dignified, courageous dog. I figured that Zephyr would grow old with me. But she had the bad fortune to get osteo sarcoma--and died exactly one month before she would have turned 7.

Our next rescue was Portia, for whom this blog is named. Her life was cut short by a vicious attack. She had just celebrated her 4th birthday.

Now we have Bingley and Magic. We will never know Magic's exact age for certain. We have declared her birthday to be July 15, 2004, which makes her 6.

Bingley's birthday is tattooed in his ear. September 5, 2003. He will be 7 years old on September 5 of this year. Today, he is one day older than Zephyr was when she died. I have been waiting for this day. Perhaps, I will finally have a dog who will grow old with me.

I live in hope.

August 11 will be another important day for Bingley. It will be the 5th anniversary of his very first race. He won it. Poor baby wasn't even two years old.

We will celebrate today in a unique way. More on that later.

Happy Day, Bingley and Magic!

But, in many ways, every day with a rescued dog is a Happy Day.

With A Little Help....

Blogging has taken a week's hiatus because John had his left knee replaced last Tuesday. The good news is that he had a skilled surgeon who operates in a hospital that has a surgical floor dedicated to orthopedic and neurological patients. However, the hospital is at least 25 miles from our house. To get there, one must travel Interstate 5. Del Mar Racetrack is now running. It too, is accessed from Interstate 5, between our house and Scripps Memorial Hospital. I spent quantity, if not quality time on the freeway going back and forth to the hospital.

When planning for this past week, John and I quickly realized that we needed help with Bingley and Magic. Once more, we have reason to thank our lucky stars for Windsong.

A week ago, I delivered my treasured canine companions to the care of Mike, Michelle, and Jessica, knowing that they not only would have their basic needs attended to in a safe place, but that they would be given love and attention--and the treat that they enjoy above all others--the chance to run, run, run in a large fenced in space.

I have just brought Bingley and Magic home, freshly groomed and happy. Bingley has appropriated the preferred location on the love seat across the room from where I type. Magic has stretched out in the doorway, catching the soft cross draft from open windows.

Once again, I cannot recommend Windsong highly enough. Good friends of Friends of Portia recently boarded FOUR Miniature Dachshunds at Windsong for ten days. These are people who spent years without a real getaway vacation because they could not face putting their dogs in a regular kennel. Having Windsong for their dogs has changed all that.

It's wonderful to have Windsong there for travel and vacations. But, it is even more important to have them for stressful situations. Like major surgery!

John's surgery was a success. He's learning to use his spiffy new titanium knee. And I could be with him during this past week's events without worrying about Bingley and Magic.

I am very, very grateful.

Great News!

The wonderful Alle is on the mend. Take a look at her and tell me she isn't Heaven material. But not yet. Thank Heavens!

Do Dogs Go To Heaven?

One of my daily visits in the blogsphere is to The Anchoress. Yesterday and today, she has been dealing with the illness of her beloved Border Collie, Alle.

As the name of her blog implies, The Anchoress is a devout Roman Catholic, so it is not surprising that the discussion threads on her posts about Alle deal with what happens to our beloved pets when they breathe their last and leave us in a state of some of the most painful mourning we can experience. Just the thought of that pain is bringing tears that are now blurring the screen as I type.

Being stuck in Anglican Ambiguity between Protestant and Catholic, I find it difficult to articulate a Strong Theological Argument for a position on whether or not dogs--or cats--or fish, or hamsters, for that matter--will be in heaven.

But I do find comfort in the writings of the lay person's Anglican Authority on Difficult Religious Questions, C.S. Lewis. The work in which he deals with the Hereafter is The Great Divorce, and I do believe, there is a particularly grand horse in Heaven in that book.

So if horses are admitted to Heaven, I assume dogs and cats are too. And could Heaven be Heaven without birds?

Whatever your persuasion, if so inclined, take a moment and say a prayer for the recovery of of the Wonderful Alle, and for The Anchoress and her family as they endure the uncertainty that comes with the illness of a beloved pet.

Ooops! An Important Date for Magic Passed

Things have been a little hectic around here, but that's really no excuse. We missed an important anniversary for Our Girl, Magic. On July 15, 2008, Magic, two of her puppies, Morgan and Merlin, and the puppies' ex-racer Greyhound father, Mystery, were rescued from outdoor cages in the High Desert of California. A week later, a third of Magic's puppies, Mackey, was also rescued. All five dogs are now living as beloved pets.

Since we have no record of Magic's birth, we have decided to give her an Official Birthday--something like the Queen's. So, we hereby declare July 15, 2010 to be Magic's Sixth Birthday.

Happy Rescue Day, Magic!

Happy Birthday, Magic!

Unleashed Report

Even as our household observed a formal week of mourning for Portia, a beautiful Greyhound who died needlessly because:

1.A neighbor carelessly let his dog out of the yard while rolling a trash can to the curb in front of his house.

2. Our Leash Law Authority had imposed NO penalty WHATSOEVER on the SAME DOG, SAME NEIGHBOR less than three years earlier when the SAME DOG ravaged our great Greyhound, Zephyr,

purposely unleashed dogs continue to be potential threats to themselves and others here in our little suburban city.

These dogs are frequently under the "care" of humans who declare, "My dog ALWAYS obeys me!"

I pause here, dear reader, to let you ponder the IDIOCY of such a declaration.

In another case, major injury was sustained by a dog whose adult owners stated that their children had been left to care for said dog--and its companion. We're talking HUSKIES, not Toy Poodles or Shih Tzus. But then, I also have neighbors who think that children can adequately supervise a MASTIFF.

The first instance of unleashed dogs involved two Huskies. Friends of Friends of Portia might recall a Husky puppy who cried pitifully on Thanksgiving Eve and shortly thereafter through an afternoon and early evening. My repeated calls to Escondido Humane Society resulted in an officer being sent to the Husky's home to counsel the family on the responsibilities of dog ownership.

Evidently, the family's solution to the problem was to purchase a second Husky to keep the first one company. That solution worked--as far as the crying Husky was concerned.

However. Confining TWO young Huskies in a back yard for long periods of time is not the job for children.

Two Friends Of This Blog and true dog lovers were on their way one evening to pick up another friend from the airport. They had had just turned onto the main road out of our sub-division when they witnessed two Huskies running across the four lane, divided road, right into the path of an oncoming car. The Husky who had cried all Thanksgiving Eve was hit, resulting in multiple injuries, including a broken pelvis. My friends facilitated rescuing the dog and getting him to emergency veterinary care.

The good news is that the dog will survive. The hope is that this episode will motivate his owners to take a serious look at their responsibilities as dog owners. Meanwhile, there is one traumatized car driver who did all she could to stop in time. But laws of physics are laws of physics.

Same Friends of Portia. Same major thoroughfare. A Sunday morning and my friends were walking their three Miniature Dachshunds on a pedestrian path that runs parallel to four lanes of traffic.

Who should appear, but Marilyn's and my old acquaintance from Tuesday morning walks in the park. On this occasion, he was accompanied by his wife/lady friend and his Herding Dog--off leash! Is there some macho issue about walking your dog on-leash in the presence of your love interest?

My friends scooped up their little dogs and reminded the man that he was in violation of San Marcos Leash Laws. He insisted that all the law requires is that the dog be "properly restrained", and his was, because (you guessed it)"My dog always obeys me."

Too bad my friends had not witnessed this man chasing madly after the dog "who always obeys him" the day that the dog was chasing Mallards in the park.

Fast forward to the next Tuesday morning. Same man. Same dog. Marilyn and I were finishing our walk, but looked across the park to see The Man Whose Dog Always Obeys Him, chasing after his dog--who had seen a rabbit.

We laughed. But if timing had been different, things might have been very, very bad indeed. Five Greyhounds on leash, one Herding Dog off leash plus one rabbit is a recipe for disaster.

Two days later, I went to pick up my car after a lube and oil change. As I was driving out of the parking lot, a handsome Pit Bull walked out in front of my car from behind a dumpster container. I needed to get home and start dinner, but I have resolved never to ignore a loose dog. So I began to make inquiries.

A young man at a nearby business told me, yes, the dog in question was their "Shop Dog."

I informed him that letting the dog run loose was breaking the law and suggested that the "Shop Dog" needed to stay in the shop.

The young man shrugged off my suggestion. But he was sufficiently concerned to inform the dog's owner, who emerged from the shop as I was returning to my car.

"Is there a problem?" he asked me.

"Yes," I replied. "You are breaking the law by letting your dog run loose. He's a fine, handsome dog, but he needs to be leashed or confined. If I see him loose again, I'll report you."

"He's not hurting anything, and besides, (by this time, I knew what he would say next) "My Dog Always Obeys Me."

He attempted to demonstrate this assertion by calling the dog, who trotted away in the opposite direction.

"That does it," I said. "I'll report you as soon as I get home."

And, dear reader, that is what I did. I waited patiently through the mind numbing decision tree of my Local Leash-Law Authority. Heard no option that fit what I needed. Finally chose what seemed to be the likeliest number and--miracle of miracles--a Live Human Voice answered.

After questioning me closely to ascertain that The Authority would not be wasting its time by intervening, the person at the other end of the line determined that Action Was Needed. She is sending the Pit Bull's owner a letter! I will also be receiving a letter informing me of their action. Soon I will be able to paper the walls of my study with letters I receive in response to my calls to The Authority.

Yesterday, Marilyn and I walked our dogs in the park. We saw the man with the Herding Dog on the other side of the park. They were too far for me to see clearly. The dog might have been loose or might have been leashed on a long, retractable leash, which is over the legal length in San Marcos. But The Authority has informed me that they are unable to enforce that part of the law.

Then, as we were putting our dogs in our cars in preparation for departure, another man appeared with a large mixed breed dog on the end of a long retractable leash. As I was driving away, I saw the man remove the leash and begin what appeared to be obedience lessons with the dog.

Marilyn and I had seen two rabbits in the park, not far from where the man was training his dog off-leash.

Call me uncharitable, but I left without warning the man. One unleashed dog and two rabbits just might provide him with a valuable lesson that His Dog Does NOT Always Obey Him.

I live in hope.