A boy and his dog

My friend Steve's beloved golden retriever, Professor Jiggs, died in the wee hours of the morning today. He was a grand old dog of 13 years. He breathed his last lying next to his best pal and constant companion.

You can read Steve's tribute on his blog.

When Jiggs entered Steve's life in 1996 a transformation began. Steve, a fastidious and, some might say (but I never would), obsessive complusive neat-freak, saw his lifestyle markedly changed by that golden puppy. I think in many ways Steve's priorities shifted that day Jiggs entered his life. He became more carefree and more spontaneous. He may beg to differ, but this is what I saw - the before and after.

Isn't it amazing that dogs can impact our lives so? The motto of this blog is: Dogs are not are whole lives, but they make our lives whole. They truly do.

Rest in peace, Professor. You led a long and glorious life and brought many smiles to all of us. Find comfort in your memories, Steve. You always did right by Jiggs and gave him a life to be envied.

To everyone else...hug your dog today and say "thank you."

Snug as a bug

For the first time since Gracie's knee injury in April, she was able to sleep in bed with me last night. I woke up in the middle of the night in that familar "spoon" - Gracie's butt in my face and the rest of her long body stretched out along side mine. It made me smile.

When we first went to bed she laid quietly beside me for a few minutes and then jumped down. She was in the living room for several minutes and then wandered back into the bedroom with her Pig. With Pig in bed with us, all was perfect for a goodnight's sleep.

To catch a fly

Gracie is my fly-catcher. She excels at hunting down the intruder and making it pay for its misdirected flight into the house. It's one of the few activities that actually holds her attention for more than 10 minutes.

Several months ago, when Gracie first tore her ACL, we were at the vet's office in Portland waiting for the official verdict. Gracie, who was limited to three good legs, laid on the floor between my sister and me. My sister said "oh, a fly." Gracie was calmly looked up and as the fly zipped past her, she nipped it in mid-flight. Such is her proficiency in fly-catching.

There are some days when I purposely let a fly in the house, just to provide a challenge for Gracie. Gee, I hope the People for the Ethical Treatment of Flies don't find out.

Minto Dog is back!

For the second Sunday in a row, Gracie and I have enjoyed a short (and leashed) walked at the Minto Brown dog park. It feels good to be back at our old stomping grounds. There have been some changes since that fateful day in April - our last visit. The parking lot is bigger...much bigger. (However, it still irks me that bikers and runners use that lot for parking when there are two other perfectly fine parking lots for them to use.) A water sharing program seems to have been instituted. Several large jugs of water sit out on a picnic table for community use. A few years ago a thought group of high school kids build some wooden watering stations and positioned them around the walking path. The wooden structures held four or five gallon jugs of water and a couple of dishes. They were perfectly placed for the dogs to grab a drink. It was really nice on those warmer days. But the city, ever mindful of risk, liability and lawsuits, removed the watering stations. It's nice, though, that the city is allowing the water sharing to occur. Or, perhaps, they've simply grown weary of trying to leash the humans at the dog park!

It was a great Sunday walk at the park this morning. Gracie caught up on the park gossip and left a few messages of her own. Walking the length of the park seem to be just the right amount of activity for her. I think she'll have a great nap today.

The mother of all tantrums

Gracie threw a tantrum last night...one that would rival even the most determined two-year old.

It began shortly upon returning from our evening walk. I gave her a treat and then threw myself into the recliner. It had been a long day. It got longer. Immediately, Gracie started in wanting more food. She stood in front of me and barked. She barked an excited, happy bark. She barked a low, menacing bark. She gave me the woooo bark of impatience. She made as if to bite the couch cushions. She stamped her feet. (I'm not kidding!) I did my best to ignore her, even though I wanted to burst out laughing at her. She was serious. She ripped the ear off of Pig. Dead serious. In a final act of defiance she trotted down the hallway to the bedroom. I was close on her heels but not close enough. She had jumped up on the bed and was using one of the pillows in a way that it was not designed to be use.

I grabbed her leash and pulled her toward me. My plan was to reach around her waist and help her off the bed and then send her to a time out in her kennel. Her plan was to bite the hand that doesn't feed her. (Well...she actually bit my arm.) Nevertheless, she found herself standing in her kennel as I stomped back into the house.

After regaining my composure, and icing my arm for a bit, I brought her back inside. She was fine. She made a half-hearted attempt to get another treat. I said "no" and she laid down by my feet.

What was that?

A young Gracie destroying my book on how to raise lab puppies.

Snorting cat

Maybe it was the hot weather this week. Maybe it was from being cooped up with little activity for 3 months. Maybe it was withdrawls from stopping the sedative. Whatever the reason, Gracie started snorting cat this week.

It seemed harmless enough. Gracie was wound up, as she usually is in the evenings. She saw Mungo lying on the floor and bounced over to him. She buried her nose in his belly fur and took a big sniff. Next thing I know, she running around the living at top speed. You've seen dogs do this before...you know, when they tuck their butt and scoot around as fast as they can. I had her leash on her, but was not holding it. In an implusive act, I tried to step on the leash to stop her run. I was barefoot. I didn't stop her. Enough said.

The next night, she did the same thing. This time I was holding the leash, so I stopped her in mid butt tuck. I showed Gracie Dr. Gustafson's latest instructions: "High-speed, quick turns, jumping, and wrestling could result in joint sprain or damage to the mensicus."

For now, I'm keeping my eye on her. She hasn't snorted cat for a few days now. If she starts again, I'll have to see if the rehab clinic in Corvallis treats this type of addiction.

Contemplating a snort

Patient has improved clinically

Gracie and I saw Dr. Gustafson on Monday for the 8-week post operative Xrays. He said the bones were healing well, the implants were in good position and the patella was stable in the trochlear groove.

We left the office with a bounce in our step. Well...I did anyway. Poor Gracie had been sedated for the Xrays and was still a bit wobbly. We now continue with rehab and start increasing our walking time. I've added a 5 minute evening walk to our daily ritual. Dr. Moore, the vet rehab specialist in Corvallis recommends increasing the walking tiem by 5 minutes each week. Our goal is to walk 30 minutes in the morning and 30 minutes in the evening. Hills are now permited so we can extend our neighborhood strolls to the surrounding blocks.

I thanked Dr. G for his excellent surgical skills and care of Gracie and told him: "I hope we never see you again." He smiled and said, he felt the same.

Walk the dog

Gracie and I have been enjoying our morning walks again. Last Friday we were treated to a spectacular red sunrise. Mt. Hood was in perfect silhouette. This is what I've missed most about our morning walks - being outside, seeing the changes to nature and the neighborhood.

Our walks, by necessity, have been cautious. Memories of her dislocated patella three weeks post TPLO are still fresh in my mind. I am probably too cautious for this stage in her recovery, but I fall easily for the "my leg hurts" look. With recovery comes some amount of discomfort. The challenge with dogs is knowing them well enough to know when it is pain and when it is simply not wanting to.

Living on a hill has presented some challenges. The vet advised the walking should be done on flat ground. There is some flat ground about a half block from my house. I must then weigh the risks: a slow, careful walk to the flatter ground, or loading her in and out of the Escape. The extra long, extra wide ramp I ordered for the SUV is in route. It should be here by Tuesday. Once we've had a chance to practice using it, I'll feel more comfortable (and there will be less risk) in taking her to a nearby park that has nice flat trails. For now, though, we do a couple of "warm up" laps by walking along side the house on the brick sidewalk. Then we walk slowly the half block up the hill to the flatter sidewalk. This stretch is about a block long. We will do two or three laps.

The deconditioning for both of us is apparent. After the second lap, Gracie starts to pant a little. Even though the temperatures are very mild, I feel a bead of sweat on my forehead. We then head back to the house for a "cool down" lap along side the house. Then it's back to the kennel for a drink of water and a nap.

The Sound of Freedom

Gracie and I sat out front yesterday evening just as the sun was setting over the west hills of Salem. The sounds of Oregon firecrackers began popping and whistling throughout the neighborhood. As mentioned in my last posting, this noise does not seem to bother Grace. True to form, she rested at my feet. Her concern was less for the noise echoing off the hills, than for the neighbor cat Romeo who was sauntering across the street.

It was early. Still light enough to see the crossword puzzle I was working on, but the anxious kids (young and old) could wait no longer and fireworks were exploding all around me. I could hear them, not see them. No one on my block was setting off fireworks...yet. (My neighbor, Jenn was busy preparing for her show, which she informed me would take place in 1 hour.) As dusk turned to dark, people were becoming more bold. Illegal fireworks purchased in neighboring Washington were now lighting up the sky. I'm fascinated by these roman candle type fireworks - first the flares brightening the sky and then a percussive bomb.

As I sat in my chair enjoying the Washington products and listening to the rat-a-tat of the legal fireworks, I began to wonder about the people in far away places from whom these sounds were not joyful or fun. People who hear these sounds more than once a year. People who hear these sounds, not as marks of freedom, but of klaxons of destruction. I thought about our marines in the Helmand province of Afghanistan. Just then a nearby burst of firecrackers went off. Is that what machine gun fire sounds like? That whomph sound as one of those illegal roman candles is launched - is that what mortar fire sounds like? The percussive bomb as the sky lights up with red, green and white flares - what does that mimic?

To say that I'm glad to be able to celebrate American freedom would be an understatement. But I can't help but wonder about, and worry about all the people in the world for whom these sounds are not happy. Who do not oooh and aah at the pretty colors and loud noises. Christmas is usually the time we all hope for peace on earth. I guess I'll just start hoping a little earlier this year.

The rockets red glare

Gracie was about 3 months old when July 4 rolled around. I had heard stories about dogs coming unglued at the sound of fireworks. Grace and I were already beginning some challenges as puppy and clueless companion. I had to wonder what the 4th might bring.

From my deck, I can see a fairly spectacular fireworks show put on by a private golf club two miles south. That first 4th I stood on the deck with a puppy Gracie sleeping - head on my foot. I had leashed her just in case. The first boom echoed acrossed the hills. I glanced down. She didn't even budge. She slept through the whole show. And for all the July 4ths since, she has barely mustered a half-hearted glance in the direction of the noise.

This year will be much the same. I'll stand on the deck and watch the fireworks...and, occasionally, nudge Gracie lest she miss the whole thing.

Walking on water

Editor note: I didn't have my camera with me for our first hydrotherapy, so this is from the vet's website.

Gracie had her first hydrotherapy appointment last Thursday in Corvallis. Trina, Gracie's new BFF and vet technician at the West Hills Animal clinic, helped her into the hydrotherapy tank. As the warm water started to fill the tank, Trina said "Dogs will do one of three things: start walking normally - very few do this; try to swim; or simply refuse to move at all." Gracie is not always the most compliant of dogs, so I feared she would opt for the third option. But no. Much to my pleasant surprise, when Trina turned the treadmill on, Gracie started walking as if she had done this all her life.

The process was simple. She walked on the treadmill for about 5 minutes. Then the treadmill was stopped and Gracie relaxed as the warm water swirled around her. Then she did another 5 minutes. And then we were done.

Yes, I suppose it's a long drive from Salem to Corvallis for 15 minutes of treatment, but I'm feeling optimistic that this therapy will help Gracie regain the muscle mass in her left leg and get her back into shape. We will also continue our home exercises and increasing our daily walking time at home. We are now 5 weeks post the femoral osteotomy and 8 weeks post the TPLO. Each day brings us closer to our goals.

Father's Day

"Just as we were reaching the car, we heard a commotion from the woods. Something was crashing through the brush - and breathing very heavily. It sounded like what you might hear in a slasher film. And it was coming our way. We froze, staring into the darkness. The sound grew louder and closer. Then in a flash the thing burst into the clearing and came charging in our direction, a yellow blur. A very big yellow blur. As it galloped past, not stopping, not even seeming to notice us, we could see it was a large Labrador retriever. But nothing like the sweet Lilly we had just cuddled with inside. This one was soaking wet and covered up to its belly in mud and burrs. Its tongue hung out wildly to one side, and froth flew off its jowls as it barreled past. In the split-second glimpse I got, I detected an odd, slightly crazed, yet somehow joyous gaze in its eyes. 'I think,' I said, a slight queasiness rising in my gut, 'we just met Dad.'"

When I first read these words in John Grogan's wildly popular book, Marley & Me, I experienced a sense of deja vu. Gracie's father is a black lab named Chopper. He was named after the popular TLC TV series Orange County Cycle, which follows the dysfunctional family antics of Paul, Sr., Paul, Jr., and Mikey, as they establish themselves as one of the nation's premiere custom motorcycle fabricators.

Chopper had that same slightly crazed, yet joyous look in his eye when I first met him. Of course, he was a new father with not one, but two litters of puppies yappying and dancing around him. When I lifted a squirming Gracie out of her bed, I was hoping she would grow to be like her mom -- quiet, gentle and subdued. After four years, I can see that she really is a daddy's girl.

So Chopper, wherever you are, Happy Father's Day.

Dog is my co-pilot

Gracie and I both have been experiencing cabin fever. So Wednesday evening after work, I carefully loaded Grace into the back of the car and we hit the road. With the windows rolled down, and the fresh air and smells of the surrounding farms, Gracie sat with her nose pointed high, taking it all in.

Gracie has always been a great traveler, for which I've been most grateful. I enjoy road trips and long drives. Gracie is a great partner. She sits calmly in the back of the Escape. While I watch the road ahead, she watches the road behind. I love having her in the car with me - whether running errands around town or hitting the road to the beach. She's a great companion and I've missed our drives. Wednesday was one of those "first time since..." moments.

Wednesday we drove down to Corvallis as a trial run for a vet appointment we have today. I found a clinic in Corvallis that offers physical therapy for dogs. West Hills Animal Hospital has full rehab services including an underwater treadmill for dogs with leg injuries. I'm hoping in addition to helping Gracie, the rehab specialists will be able to give me some direction on exercises we can do at home. The downside to most of these specialized clinics is their work hours - 8 to 5, Monday through Friday. And to date, the Family Medical Leave Act has yet to extend to our canine and feline companions.

With each day, Gracie's bones heal a bit more. The key is not rushing things, even when it seems like she is doing well. But I still look forward to the day that she and I can hit the road, stop when and where we'd like and resume our great adventures.

Thankful Thursday...and every day

Gracie and I made the hour-long drive to Beaverton yesterday to see the vet. She had her 3-week post-op Xrays. Good news! The TPLO sight is healed and the femoral osteotomy site is showing good signs of bone growth after just three weeks. Hurrah!

The vet advises sticking with her current restrictions and use of the sedative. The need for the sedative was apparent at the vet's office. Gracie burst through the office doors as if to greet everyone with a big "I'm here!!" I can't blame her though. After being cooped up for three weeks not only did she get a car ride, but a visit with people who think she's the cutest thing ever.

Sticking to the plan has paid off. Now that our routine is fairly established, we'll continue with it for another five weeks until we go back for another round of Xrays.

A big milestone is successfully passed...thank goodness!

Limping along

The title of this post refers more to me than Gracie. Since her initial surgery in April, I have found myself at loose ends on the weekends. Our regular Saturday morning routine has been thrown asunder. I feel like I'm limping along.

My friend, Steve, retired in April and moved to Mexico with his ancient golden retriever, Professor Jiggs. A few weeks ago, the Professor became quite ill. The prognosis seemed bleak. Steve's distress was evident in his blog postings. But Jiggs has become the dog of nine lives. With a new summer haircut, and a reduction in medications, he seems to be back to his old self. In Steve's post today, he talks about getting his "sea legs" back. With Jiggs on the mend, he is once again exploring his new surroundings and enjoying his adventure.

I hope to take a lesson from Steve and Jiggs. I find myself experiencing a strange sense of guilt when I do things on the weekends that Gracie and I once did together. Intellectually, I know that Gracie doesn't care what I do for an hour here or an hour there as long as her meals arrive on time, she gets to have some belly rubs and is allowed her occasional trips to the backyard to go potty. And, I know, we will one day get to resume our Saturday adventures.

So this Saturday, I'll do some of the things we use to do together. As soon as the June rain showers lessen, I'll wander down to Saturday Market and shop for fresh cut flowers and local berries.

I noticed yesterday as I took Gracie to the backyard that she was barely limping. As time marches on and she continues to improve, I suspect my limp will lessen as well.

Stick with the plan

I don't like plans. That may surprise some of my friends who think I'm the Chief Planner. I will step into the void and plan something if no one else will, but all in all, I prefer spontaneity. Why plan a weekend activity when you can wake up Saturday morning and decide?

Following Gracie's second surgery I devised a plan: Confinement to her garage apartment and outside only to go potty. My resolve was firm. After all, it was the break in this original plan three weeks post surgery #1, that she got away from me in the house, slipped on the wood floor and dislocated her patella - all leading to surgery #2.

I have to keep reminding myself that this confinement is for her own good and that her recovery will go more quickly. But despite all my best efforts to stay connect with her, I still miss her in the house.

My resolve broke Saturday. I snuck her in the house - against the harsh inner voice warning me against this. I made her go immediate to her crate though. There she laid while I putz around the house doing Saturday chores. After a couple of hours, we made the slow walk through the backyard (stopping for a potty break), along the side of the house and back to the garage. This route allows us to avoid the stairs. Nothing bad happened, but again, that inner voice reminded me that it could have.

Gracie and I had a talk this morning. I told her we need to stick to the plan. I told her I knew how hard it was to do this, but we must. She simply seem to shrug her shoulders and curl back on her bed. She is OK with the plan. It's me who's struggling.

Letting sleeping dogs lie

The tag long on this blog reads: Dogs are not our whole lives, but they make our lives whole. Generally this is true, but since that fateful day at the dog park, April 19, and two surgeries later, I can definitely say that for right now Gracie is my whole life.

Since her second surgery on May 20, Gracie has been convalescing in her kennel. She has not seen the inside of the house even though she looks longing at the door every time I take her out to go potty.

I miss her being in the house, so I spend time with her in the kennel. I take a book with me and sit by her - sometimes for 15 minutes, sometimes an whole hour passes. We enjoy watching the neighborhood with the garage door open.

This past Sunday I found myself in the baby aisle at Target looking at video monitors...again. I've been in this aisle three times in the last month looking at the same product and each time talking myself out the purchase as being silly, obsessive or just a plain waste of money. Sunday I bought it.

The camera sits on a shelf in the garage. The small black and white monitor sits on the kitchen counter. With a glance I can check on Gracie. Most of the time she is sleeping. Sometimes she is hugging Pig or working on a bone. Sometimes she is just laying there, head up, staring ahead, thinking, I guess.

I still spend time with her in the kennel each day. But when I can't be out there with her, it helps me to see her on the monitor.

I'm not sure why, but it does.

Is the sedative ready?

This time around, Gracie is taking a sedative twice a day to help keep her a bit calmer during recovery. It's helped - both of us, actually.

However, each time I prepare her pill for distribution (Greenies' Pill Pockets are awesome, by the way), I giggle to myself.

Of course I'm thinking about one of the funniest scenes in my favorite movie, Young Frankenstein. Here's the set up...the monster is alive. The team of Dr. Frankenstein, Igor and Inga rush to the laboratory. Dr. Frankenstein utters the line "Is the sedative ready?" and then begins about 3.5 minutes of hilarity as Inga and Igor play charades with Dr. Frankenstein while he is being choked by the monster.

I haven't quite figure out the process for adding video to the blog, but if you haven't seen this scene for a while, you can find it on Youtube.

Good comedy reminds me that laughter really is the best medicine.

Slow and easy

Gracie seems to be doing much better after this surgery than her initial TPLO surgery on April 27. I left the e-collar off overnight, but noticed her incision was looking a bit raw and thought it wise to put the collar back on her. I like these soft collars better than the rigid plastic ones. Plus, it makes her look like a flower.

As you can see, she is not lacking for comfort. Her precious Pig is near by. Several times yesterday as I sat by her, she would reach forward and pull Pig close. I often find her asleep with her head on Pig.

Here's a close up of the incision site. Her TPLO was done on the inside her leg. Dr. Gustafson said had he done both procedures together, the incision would be on the inside, but with it being done separately, it was better to do the femoral osteotomy on the outside of the leg. He closed the wound with internal sutures that will dissolve over time. The incision site is closed with surgical glue. Dr. G recommends icing 3 times a day for the first three days. I have worked in about 4 times each day. She has not had near the swelling or bruising she had with the TPLO.

Better living through chemicals. This time around I asked for a mild sedative to help keep her more calm during recovery. Between the pain meds and the twice daily sedative, she is resting comfortably but doesn't seem to be "out of it." With the help of the belly sling we've made a couple of trips to the backyard to go potty. For some reason she is adamant about not going in the front yard. Most likely the result of those puppy training techniques that tell you to train your dog to go potty in one area of the yard. Unlike some of the other lessons she learned, she is consistent and firm on following this one.

I'm feeling better equipped to handle this recovery than I did with the TPLO. I was frantic all the time with her after the first surgery. I'm still concerned about her, but having gone through this once, I know more what to expect. It's OK if she doesn't go potty like her usual clock-work pre-surgery.

We still have a long row to hoe, but we'll get there. We're going to take it slow and easy this time.

Thankful Thursday

Gracie is home from the hospital. She seems to be do much better after this surgery than the first. She's not quite so groggy and her tail is wagging more.

The vet seemed pleased with the surgery and placement of the new implant in her femur. We go back in three weeks to see how the bone is healing. Some dogs, he says, will have good healing progress in three weeks, others take up to eight weeks for the healing to begin. Her level of future activity is based on the healing process.

Right now she is sleeping in her kennel. When I got her home she was ready for her afternoon pills and ice pack. I sat next to her icing her leg and then just to sit with her. We are using a sedative this time around to help curb her enthusiasm a bit. At least until we get further along in the healing process.

Right now I'm thankful she is home.

A set back

I knew something was wrong Friday evening when I got home from work. I took Gracie to the backyard to potty and she was no longer putting weight on her injured leg. I chalked it up to being tired and, possibly, a bit too much walking. Saturday was no better, so I called the vet's office in Beaverton for an appointment on Monday. By Sunday I knew this was serious. Her knee was swollen and I was out of pain meds.

Today I got the news: her patella was dislocated with a probable tear of the ligament that holds it in place.

And the rest of the news: additional surgery, scheduled for Wednesday, to straighten her femur and correct the patellar luxation.

Prior to the TPLO, the vet surgeon explained to me about Gracie's anatomy. Her femurs are bowed, making her look bow-legged from behind. The curvature of the femur was problematic. In some instances, not only is a TPLO done, but also an osteotomy of the femur to reduce the curve. He could do it in Gracie's case, but he felt the angle was not too bad, so we opted to just do the TPLO. That was the wrong decision in hind-sight.

So Gracie is scheduled for surgery on Wednesday. The vet surgeon will perform the osteotomy of her femur to reduce the curve and deepen the patellar groove so that the patella doesn't slip out of place.

I'm struggling with this one. Did I push her too hard, too soon? Did I let her get away with being zany Gracie too soon? Did my desire to have her close to me in the evenings put her at greater risk of injury? It's hard to know. Maybe this could have been prevented, or maybe not. I do know that I'll be more strict this go around. She will be spending time in her "garage apartment" and not in the house. Walks will be to the potty area and back, only. And because she is such a strong and energetic dog, I may have to opt for the mild sedatives to keep her calm.

And we are back to square one.

A stitch...and some time

Gracie had the staples removed today from her surgical site. The vet thought she was doing well. Some minor swelling around the wound, probably from her licking the area, but the vet thought that would resolve in a day or so. He also gave the OK to start leashed walks. Five minutes twice a day to begin. Over the next 6 weeks, we'll work our way up to 20 minutes, three times a day. The written instructions advise against hills. That's a problem. I live on a hill. But I guess I can drive her to the bottom, walk her along the flat ground and then bring her home. She's my Gracie afterall.

Thankful Thursday

I've noticed that some of my fellow bloggers have begun a tradition called Thankful Thursday. I think it is always a good thing to take stock in life's blessings and to practice gratitude.

April 2, Dad was diagnosed with cancer and treatment ensued. On April 19, Gracie tore her meniscus and ACL at the dog park. Surgery followed on April 27. In between, we've all battled colds, potty breaks in the rain and wind, fatigue and mental weariness. In fact, I tried to hold a pity party for myself last week and found I was just to exhausted to even muster a tear. Instead, I think I'd rather spend my time on gratitude. So here it is, a short list, in no particular order:

• Dad only has 4 treatments left. He'll be done on Wednesday May 13.


• Gracie's surgery went well. She seems to be healing well. The swelling is markedly down. She still makes me laugh every day.


• The sun is shining...for now.


• Mom & Dad paid for Gracie's surgery. I think they are finally resigned to the fact that my sister and I will produce no grandchildren for them other than dogs and cats. They will dote on them accordingly.


• My sister's visit and care of Mom and Dad timed perfectly with Gracie's need for surgery and initial recovery. I couldn't have done it without her here.


• Good friends and good co-workers who share my heartache over an injured, albeit recovering, dog and who help me keep everything in perspective.


• A faith firmly rooted in the ultimate display of love, sacrifice and forgiveness.

I like this notion of Thankful Thursday and will try to carry it forward - if not in the blog world, at least in my heart.

Back on track

Gracie's body seems to be returning to pre-injury function. Her bathroom forays have been highly successful the last two days. Cross one worry off my list. I do fret that she is doing too much. When outside for her bathroom breaks, she makes the most of her freedom by leading me to believe she needs to sniff each piece of barkdust in the yard. (FYI - my backyard is mostly barkdust.) She is just beginning to put weight on her left leg. Not much, but some. I'm still using the belly strap to help her get to and from the backyard to make sure she doesn't slip and fall.

I talked with the vet surgeon on Friday. He said he was not concerned about her walking around during her potty breaks. He said her main risk was spraining the fragile tendons and ligaments in leg, but he felt certain that the bone was in a good position and the plate firmly implanted.

The sun made a brief appearance today. Gracie laid on the deck for about 15 minutes soaking in the warm rays. It must have felt good on her injured leg. She was really good about allowing me to place cold compresses on her leg for the first 3 days. The instructions then advised to follow the next 3 days with warm compresses. She has not liked that process at all. Happily, though, the swelling is much reduced and the bruising is fading.

Tomorrow we can cross 1 week off our recovery time. Now that she and I are getting a rhythm, I'm hopeful the next weeks will go well (and pass quickly!).

Go potty...please

Editor's note: please don't tell Gracie that I'm posting her bathroom habits on the web. She's already mortified at the prospects of having to potty in the front yard.

It's been four days since surgery and Gracie hasn't recovered her typical potty habits. Gracie has always been very precise in her bathroom habits and I could always count on a poop and pee every morning and every evening. Not so now. Yesterday I fretted over the fact she wouldn't go at all. This morning I shouted for joy following a lengthy pee.

I have a feeling this recovery is going to be harder on me than Grace. I revisited some of the web postings about post operative care following TPLOs. The Vet Surgery Central, Inc., site has been very helpful in explaining the entire TPLO process from start to finish. It confirmed that potty activities will be impacted following surgery.

In other recovery news, the swelling in her leg seems better. I'm trying warm compresses now although she is less eager to lay still for these. Actually she is less eager to stay still at all. She is still not putting much weight on the injured leg, but is taking a few tentative steps. She is very fast on 3 legs so I have to be diligent and keep her leashed at all times. Even so, her strength is returning and she's been a handful on our brief sojourns to the backyard.

Yesterday, our neighbor dogs, Clare and Pre, stopped by for a visit. Gracie laid down and both Clare and Pre, with a display of gentleness and respect, sniffed Gracie and gave her a lick on the snout.

I still find myself anxious about her level of activity - trying to make sure she doesn't over do it and that I, in my selfish want to have her close by, don't put her at greater risk.

I know that the smarter and more patient we are now, the better chance we have of enjoying some nice walks this summer.

Look who's four!

Happy birthday to my best pal, Gracie.

Wish we could be at the park today, but it's enough to have you close by.

You make me laugh everyday.

TPLO

I work in insurance. This field is replete with acronyms. Every procedure and process is reduced to a TPA (three letter acronym). But today I learned a new one: TPLO. Tibial plateau leveling osteotomy.

Gracie's local vet confirmed the diagnosis...she has a torn cruciate ligament in her left knee. This morning, we met the surgeon in Beaverton who specializes in the TPLO. In addition to the torn ligament, he also suspects cartilage damage to the meniscus. His plan is to arthroscopically repair the damage and then, via a small incision, insert the stabilizing plate. Surgery is set for Monday, April 27...three days short of Gracie's 4th birthday. She'll spend the night at the hospital and then home to 3 weeks of confinement with breaks for potty time only. The surgeon felt within 3 weeks she would be ready for leash walking only. Within 8 weeks she should be up to 20 minute walks 2 or 3 times a day.

It seems bad news always comes in threes. Today was no different. The surgeon informed me that Gracie will have about a 40% chance of needing the same surgery on her right knee in the next year. In addition, the Xrays show hip displaysia in her right hip. He suspects she has been compensating on the left side put her left knee at greater risk.

But, my goal is to look for the positive. Here's what I've come up with so far:

• I have the money to afford this level of care.


• I have an employer who is supportive of any time off I might need to take.


• I have two possible locations in the house for Gracie to convalesce in.


• Dr. Gustafson seems to be one of the top notch doctors in the Salem-Portland area for TPLOs.


• Gracie is still wagging her tail every day.

Can I still call the blog MintoDog?

Several months ago, Gracie began favoring her left rear leg. Long walks, too many extra ball throws at the park and the like would cause her to limp around for a few hours. Always, though, she would walk it off in a couple of hours and be back to her usual self. In March, I had the vet do some checking. On the Lab Retriever's Chat Board I had been reading about several dogs with knee injuries. Coincidentally, or not, several of my subscription dog magazines and newsletters sported articles about ACL repair in the knee. The vet found no ligament tears but some mild arthritis in her left rear knee. We amped up the glucosamine intake. And the weeks past with nary a limp from her. We continued with our long walks and trips to the dog park.

Until Saturday evening at the dog park. She dropped the ball and I grabbed it. I made her wait for me to throw it. She did. Then she took off at top speed. Three or four steps into her run she let out a loud yelp and then yelped for another few seconds. I've never heard her cry out like this. I dropped the chuck it and ran to her. She held her left rear leg up and looked at me with worried eyes.

She laid down for a few minutes to catch her breath. I was hoping for a sticker or burr in her paw. No such luck. She limped a few steps and laid back down. We struggled along like this for what seemed like forever until we got back to the car.

Once home, she refused to put any weight on her leg. I went through the pet lover's conundrum- emergency vet or wait? We waited. It was a long night. She was clearly uncomfortable. About 3 a.m. I moved to the couch in the living room to be closer to her. I would hear her whine, almost a mutter, shift her weight and try to reposition herself on the floor. At 3:30, I helped her to her kennel in the garage. She curled up on her bed and fell asleep. Back in my bedroom, I did the same.

At 6:30 a.m. I got dressed and struggled to get her in the back of the Escape. We got to the emergency vet. I should've gone the night before. Oh, those "should've, could've, would've" moments.

Dr. Fischer pronounced my worse concern...positive Drawer's sign - probable rupture of the ACL. He gave her some pain meds and we limped back to the Escape to head home. We'll see our vet first thing in the morning for xrays and discussions about treatment.

So it looks like our visits to Minto will be severely curtailed in the coming weeks and months. But Gracie is still Gracie. When the emergency vet came in to examine her, she looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye and wagged her tail at him. Restricting activity will be our new normal for now.

A helping paw

My dad was in the hospital last week. As the paramedics were taking him out of his house last Tuesday night, my parent's cat, Nick, started yowling. Dad's main concern at that point was Nick's welfare. Never mind his own medical crisis that was brewing. I had to make sure Nick was OK before we left the house.

We are a family of animal lovers. My sister has two Chihuahuas - Pelli and Chisum. Mom and Dad have Nick the cat. And, of course, there is Gracie and Mungo. Our animals give us peace amid a world that is often chaotic and where unexpected events throw us into a tail-spin. Thank God for our faithful animal companions who remind us that there is a little a good belly rub won't cure.

On Saturday I was returning to Dad's hospital room when I saw one of my coworkers and her golden retriever walking the hallway. I called her over and she brought Isabella into the room to see Dad. He had been pretty tired, but perked up (a little bit) at the sight of Isabella. For the next 10 minutes, Colleen regaled us with stories of Isabella's upbringing which all led to her becoming a hospital volunteer. Both Colleen and Isabella sported name badges. Isabella is smiling in her picture.

Later that day, as we were taking Dad home, a woman entered the hospital with her Cocker Spaniel. We inquired - are dogs allowed? The CNA nodded yes, that family pets were permitted to visit. This, to me, is a miracle of modern medicine. It speaks well of our area hospital that it acknowledges the healing powers and comfort our pet companions can bring during challenging times.

Dad is home now. Nick is on his lap. We take our next cue from our animal companions - one day at the time, and, when possible, find a nice sunbeam to lie in.

Hot spots

From the title of this post, you might imagine I'd be writing about sunny location and warm environs. After several months of cold, damp weather, I would love to find myself right now in a nice hot spot...maybe Phoenix, or the Big Island, or a Mexican seaside village.


However, most dog owners know that the phrase "hot spots" does not refer to an exotic locale, but a frustrating and painful lesion that dogs can often incur as a result of allergies (or in some case obsessive-compulsive behavior).

Spring is springing into Oregon despite the continued chilly temps. As the trees start budding, Gracie's allergies start blooming. I'm not really sure if she is allergic to the tree pollen, but this time every year she suffers from skin rashes.


In years past, Gracie has developed a severe rash on her belly and thighs called pyoderma. It's a type of staph infection that requires antibiotics. I have tried to be extra vigilant this year to keep that area clean and sprayed with her topical medicine. I guess that's why the hot spot that developed on her chin surprised me.

I had noticed her rubbing her chin on her paws off and on, but did not think much of. Then one night, she jumped off the bed, and I noticed a silver dollar size stain of blood on the quilt.

Naturally, these events always take place at night or on the weekend, so as a pet owner you are faced with the dilemma- emergency vet or wait for morning? We waited. Monday morning, we showed up at the vet's office.

Grace is now on a course of antibiotics as well as some topical medicine. It's been a week and it looks some better but not much. We have a check up scheduled for next Monday.

As I look out the window at this cold, wet, windy day in Oregon, I'm wishing Gracie and I were dealing with a different kind of hot spot.

Walkies

When I first brought Gracie home - at 8 weeks - my backyard was not fenced. So Gracie learned at an early age how to walk on leash. After the fence was built, I still found myself going outside with her. By then she was so use to me being with her out back, she wouldn't go out by herself. I've tried to tell her on several occasions that dogs love being outside by themselves. But alas, she'd rather be with me. The downside to this...I often find myself standing out back in the rain, cold, and wind at 2:30 in the morning, while she sniffs around for the right potty spot.

Gracie and I go for a lot of walks. One of my objectives in bringing a dog into my life was to make sure I stay active. I know myself - I'm prone to sitting on the couch like a lump. Gracie makes sure we have a nice balance between lumping around on the couch and exploring the neighborhood. We are faithful walkers with at least one walk each day, and most days two walks.

Here are some tips I've learned over the years:

• Invest in some good rain gear and some good walking shoes.
• For the winter months, be sure to wear high visibility colors or safety vests, especially if walking in the mornings or evenings. This includes the dog as well.
• Use the right leash. Extension leashes are great, but not suitable for all occasions. They don't allow for total control. So you either need a very obedient dog and one not prone to distractions or you should use a shorter leash. I like the 6 foot leather leash. It is much easier on my hands than a nylon leash.
• Use the right collar. As a young dog, I used a Gentle Leader harness on Gracie. It was helpful in teaching her obedience on the leash. As she got older and stronger, it was no longer sufficient. We then switched to the prong collar (after receiving proper training in using this type of collar). Now, most of the time, I can just use her regular flat collar on walks.
• Use care crossing drive ways. Sometimes it is not always easy for the driver to see you as he is backing out of the drive way. Stay alert.
• Carry a cell phone.
• Be a good neighbor. Pick up after your dog.
• Be a good neighbor - Part 2. During our snowy weather, Gracie and I continued our walks. I would notice the newspaper carrier was not able to make his usual front porch delivers due to the weather. So I would toss my neighbors' papers closer to their front door for them.
• Know your dog. If she always looks for cat poo at a certain home, try crossing the street so the temptation is no longer there.
• I like to listen to audio books on my MP3 player while walking Gracie. Be sure to keep the volume low, though. You need to be able to hear traffic and other sounds to keep you both safe.
• Use care when meeting other dogs out for a walk. Some dogs can get aggressive or anxious when meeting other dogs on a leash. Be sure to check with the owner before letting the dogs take a sniff. If you have to, cross the street to avoid any unnecessary conflicts.
• Have fun. Walking with your dog is a great chance to connect with your dog, enjoy the outdoors, meet your neighbors, and get some exercise. Don't look at as a chore, but as something you get to do!

Happy walking!

The Sleepover

Gracie had a guest this weekend, a six-year old yellow lab named Sockeye. Sockeye and Gracie had not met before, so it was a bit dicey to introduce a new dog to our home for a weekend visit, but something told me they would get along. And they did.

Gracie seemed glad to have a playmate and we had several sessions of wrestlemania in the living room. I only had to interveen twice when it appeared one of the dogs was getting irritated. At that point, we'd all go out back and get somre fresh air. I was grateful to have Sockeye here for what turned out to be a miserable weather weekend - gusting winds and driving rain. I scooted the coffee table out of the way which opened up the floor plan a bit for them to wrestle and play chase. Sockeye enjoyed rooting through Gracie's toy box and pulled out all of the toys. With each toy she pulled out, Gracie would take away as if to say "I was just going to play with that." Nevermind that she hadn't played with the toy in over six months.

Sockeye was the perfect house guest. She didn't chase Mungo. Her first night here, she quietly curled up on the floor next to the bed. I woke up about 1:30 a.m. and looked at her. I patted the bed and she jumped up. Of course, both Sockeye and I were regulated to opposite corners of the bed since Gracie likes to sleep on the diagonal...on her back...front and rear legs stretched out.

It was a great weekend. I wonder if a second dog might be in our future?



Sockeye wanted to play with both the football and the frisbee!



Checking out the toy box.

Wrestlemania: Revenge of the Sockeye

Spring in the Park

Honest. There was a patch of blue sky on the horizon when I left my house for the dog park. The storms always come from that direction so I thought it would be fine. I swung by my friend Charla's house to pick up her little dog, Hanna. Hanna and Gracie are best pals. They are the Mutt and Jeff of dog world. Gracie, an 85lb chocolate lab, friendly, wiggly, and casual. Hanna, a 15 lb rat terrier, suspicious (at best), stiff and formal. Charla has been battling a head cold, so I thought I'd help by giving Hanna some much needed exercise at the park. Like I said, the weather seemed to be OK.

Our weather has been screwy so far this year. Far more snow than is typical for our low elevation valley. And just when we think we've seen the last, the forecast calls for more. We woke up this morning, with just a dusting of snow. It was gone by 9 a.m., but back by 11 a.m., and then just as quickly gone again.

I thought it would be OK.

When we got to the park, it was busy as usual for a Sunday afternoon. A very light sprinkle of rain had started. Nothing to worry about. In Oregon, you quickly learn to perform activities in the rain lest you spend 6 months locked inside. We headed into the open field.

Gracie chased her ball. Hanna chased Gracie. Then Hanna chased a few birds. Then back to Gracie. Then to me. She zipped, zagged and zigged around the field. Good I thought. She'll be nice and tired for Charla.

As we came around the back side of the field, the rain picked up. Hanna, a worried look on her face, glanced back at me. "It's OK," I said. Then tiny hail began. Hanna really looked worried now. The hail was piling up on her black fur. Her large ears sagged and her tiny nub of a tail tucked tightly under. She ran to me. "Up," she said. I scooped her up. Then the snow started. Sideways snow.

Meanwhile, Gracie strolled along checking her regular pee-mail stops and leaving a few messages of her own. When I looked back for her, the snow was covering her brown fur. She didn't seem to mind. She had her ball. That's all that really matters at the park.

I set Hanna back down and she took off for the car. As far as she was concerned, Gracie and I could lolly gag around in this cold, wet white stuff all we wanted but she was not going to. Gracie and I had to hustle to keep up with her.

We all scrambled to get into the car where it was dry and warm. I was soaked and both dogs were soaked. We had one towel to share. Gracie and I opted to let Hanna have the towel. She shivered and shivered until I got her dried off.

It was quite an adventure for Hanna. I bet she'll sleep really well tonight.

Tough Times

Last Friday I got an email from a fellow dog-lover at work. The original email sender told of her family's financial troubles, a lost home, and a new apartment that didn't accept dogs. She has two labs - a chocolate and a yellow. The two females are best friends, inseparable. But now the woman had to face two devastating prospects: first, the loss of her precious companions; and, second, the probability that the dogs will be separated from each other when left either at the shelter or rescue organization.

My heart broke - not just for the fate of these two pals, but for a family in distress, having to make tough choices. For half-a-second I had the urge to adopt the two - Cookie and Coco. Get real, I then told myself. My house is barely large enough for Gracie. The backyard is not particularly dog-friendly. It suffices for Gracie because most of her activity comes from me walking her or taking her to the park. Throw two more dogs in the mix and I would be in way over my head. Next consider the cost to keep one dog, much less two or three. Dog food, treats, vet bills, etc. And, for me, the ultimate decider - my cat, Mungo. He's been with me the longest. His health is questionable and costly. He tolerates Gracie, but two other bounding, over-enthused labs would be the final straw for him. I had a vision of him packing his bag and heading down the road.

So, I deleted the email about Cookie and Coco and said a silent prayer that a benefactor would come along to adopt, or foster, both of them until their owners can get back on their feet.

In the recent issues of Bark magazine, there's a short article about "soup kitchens" for pets. It profiles a shelter in Georgia that distributed 4000 pounds of dog food and other pet supplies to area owners. Our animal shelters are struggling to meet the need in our communities. My local shelter, the Willamette Humane Society, is closing one day a week in order to save money. This is loss of jobs and loss of a resource for people struggling to keep their families together. Pet food donations to my local shelter are used to support the AniMeals - a program affiliated with Meals on Wheels. While delivering nourishing food to area seniors, they also deliver pet food.

Between the email from Friday and the article in Bark, I'm reminded of my good fortune, my resources and that I need to be helping. We all have areas we are passionate about. Mine is dogs and the value they bring to a person and family's life. I can't even begin to imagine what I would do if faced with the need to abandon Gracie or Mungo for any reason. If I can help one pup or one cat stay with his family, it will be worth it.

I encourage you all to consider the needs of your community - be it person or animal - and act. I think we're in this economic mess for the long haul. But I hold out hope that by neighbor helping neighbor we will make it through.

The sun is shining, why are we inside?

It's a fair question. Usually when the sun is shining - and even on days when it isn't - Gracie and I head to the dog park. As the daylight hours lengthen, we can even manage an occasional weekday trek if I get out of the office right at 5 p.m. and traffic isn't too crazy on the drive home. But our outings were thrown off track last week.

It began as an annoying cough Wednesday morning. By Wednesday night, I knew I was in trouble and Thursday morning found me achy, congested, coughing, red-eyed and cranky. I stayed home, curled up in the recliner blowing my nose every 30 seconds and trying not to break a rib from coughing. I hoarsely told Gracie she'd have to go potty out back. No walks today. No dog park.

She took the news in stride and, for the most part, tried to play the role of nurse offering me her Pig for comfort. (No thanks, Pal. Even with a stuffed up nose, that thing doesn't smell so great!)

Friday rolled around and I was still down for the count. Gee whiz, anyone catch the person who threw the brick at the back of my head? Gracie sat forlornly, chin upon the window sill staring outside at the beautiful sunny day. Sorry, girl. I barely made it to the couch today. You'll have to settle for out back, again.

Saturday brought a glimmer of hope that this flu bug was moving on. I rallied in the morning for a trip to the dog park. When we got home, I slept for 2 hours.

Today another minor improvement. We got to the dog park this morning and I only needed a one hour nap afterwards.

Nicknames

I've been thinking about the nicknames we give our dogs. The thought entered my mind while reading one of my favorite blogs, Nigel,Sola & Co. Mr. Author tells the story of how their chocolate lab, Truffles, joined their family and earned the nickname Fudgepants (here's the story). What a great nickname for a chockie - on so many levels!

Gracie has several nicknames. As a puppy, I suspect Gracie thought her name was actually Dammit Gracie. She was a wild, Tasmania-devil of a puppy. I have also had occasion to invoke her full given name - much like our mothers do when we are in trouble - Gracie Lou Freebush. Sandra Bullock fans will recognize this name as her character from the movie Miss Congeniality. As our adventures at the dog park testify, Gracie has easily won this title. Other nicknames come and go depending on the circumstances and events.

But the one nickname that has endured is Bug. The evolution of this nickname is a bit long and windy. It began with Gracie's first "precious," her stuffed toy called a Lambdoodle. (Pig is now her "precious.") Lambdoodle was her first toy. The toy that she cuddled with on the long drive home from the breeder. It was the toy the comforted her on those long nights in the crate as I tried to resist the urge to bring her to bed with me and the small puppy whimper was replaced with the Baa Baa of Lambie. Alas, after several months, Lambdoodle was lost in a horrific puppy diarrhea accident. Forever gone, but not forgotten.

So the nickname for Gracie began as Doodle. Then became Doodlebug. Then Doo-bug. And finally Bug.

Do you have nicknames for your pups? I'd love to hear the stories.

Saturday at the Park

Saturday was a beautiful spring day in Salem...in February. Gracie and I found ourselves among the last to arrive at the dog park Saturday afternoon. I've never seen the park so busy. All three parking lots were full. Cars were lining the roadway and making their own parking spots. I finally had to wedge the Escape in between two big trucks that had created their own parking area. It was a long walk back to the dog park...well, not really, but it's long when your stuck on either end of the leash when freedom is calling.

We made one loop around the big field. I found myself in a contemplative mood, so I marveled at the wonder of the dog park, the size of the off-leash area and the fact that despite all the people, it didn't feel crowded. How lucky we are in Salem to have this open space. Gracie was in her element. She ran to each person with a happy lab wiggle, proudly showed off her tennis ball (carried firmly in her mouth at all times) and waited for the forthcoming back rub. Gracie gets complimented for two attributes - her enthusiasm and the softness of her coat. I frequently asked what I feed her. It's Blue. But even as a puppy, her coat was silky soft. I jokingly tell people it's because I walk her in the rain all the time. Who knows...maybe it is.

I'm not sure who benefits more from our trips to the dog park...Gracie certainly because of the exercise and her need to be social; or me, because I feel so contented there and get such a joy from watching the dogs be dogs.

Bumper sticker logic

The philosophy is simple and it is lived out each day at the dog park. Once again, we humans could learn a lot from our canine pals: wag more, bark less.

At the park this morning, the sun was shining, but a chill was in the air. The parking lot was full. Dogs were barking to be released from back seats and rear cargo holds. Once released, though, it was all wags and smiles.

I've been trying to limit Gracie's activities at the park. She's been limping around a lot lately. The vet thinks it's arthritis in her left rear knee and right rear hip. This makes me nervous. She's not even 4 yet. I can't keep her from being a dog, though. I love watching her at the dog park. She runs up to almost every human out there, shows them her ball (carried happily in her mouth at all times), turns her fanny to them for a quick butt pat or scratch and then dashes off to the next human. Almost to the person, I see their face light up as if Gracie has singled them out for special attention.

Imagine if we greeted not only our friends, but also strangers with the same exuberance that the dogs exhibit at the park. Even the barking I hear at the park is a shout of joy -- mostly from the hound dogs just arriving.

Wag more, bark less is the tag line of a dog food brand, Cloud Star. They make yummy treats for dogs - especially dogs with sensitive tummies and food allergies. (Gracie falls into the first category, although you'd never know it by the junk she eats.) In addition, to fine dog treats, the company also contributes 10% of its net profits to various non-profits to benefit animals, women, children and the environment. Here's a company living out their motto.

We've been hearing a lot lately about what our country needs to get through the difficult days ahead. As for me, I'm going to try to live out my new bumper sticker and wag more, bark less.

Me and Pig...Part 2

That dumb dog. Everything she does is cute and adorable. She has a million toys and what do I get? One lousy mouse stuffed with some sub-par catnip. I can't even enjoy that without Miss Nosey stealing it away from me. And does she get scolded? No! But let me raise one paw in her direction and next thing I know I'm chucked outside. I use to be king of this castle...sleeping in bed with mom, ruling the house. Now, Little Miss Princess of Everything gets all the attention.

But I got even...me and Pig, indeed!

Me and Pig

Editor's note: Today's blog is written by Gracie as communicated through a series of woofs, yarps, rrrrrs and barks to her companion, Beth.

Mom brought Pig home about 4 months ago. I like to tear up stuff toys. They are squishy and I want to see what's in side. It might be food. But it never is. Still...it could be.

Pig was different. He wasn't squishy except for his head. But his feet made an irritating squeaky noise. Until I broke them. I don't think I hurt Pig. His feet never tore.

Pig is my favorite. I like to cuddle with him almost as much as I do my mom. Yesterday it was cold and damp outside. Mom sat in her favorite recliner. I wanted to cuddle with her, but also wanted to hug Pig. Mom laid Pig across the arm of the chair so I could cuddle with both of them.

At night I sometimes forget to bring Pig to bed with me. That's a hassle 'cause then I have to get off the bed and go look for him. Sometimes I'm so tired that I can't jump on the bed with Pig in my mouth. Mom says I look pathetic...I think that's a good thing, 'cause then she takes Pig and places him on the bed, and then gives me a boost. I try to look pathetic a lot.

Next to living with my mom and my cat, Mungo, Pig is the best thing in my life. I'm glad he didn't have anything squishy inside him. I'd hate to think I might have tore him up for no good reason.

Gracie

Spread a little hope...and bark chips!

Today marks the birthday of Martin Luther King. For the first time in the 19 years I've worked for SAIF, we were given the day off...and a challenge: spend your holiday giving back. I probably would have ignored this if not for the prodding and example set by some of my coworkers who devote themselves to serving others. In an ad hoc committee meeting, my name was raised, I was approached, and, since the "giving back" involved one of my favorite places - the Minto Brown Dog Park - I agreed.

We had a glorious day for spreading bark chips along the muddy trails. As you'll recall, just a few weeks ago, the park was mostly under water. But today was one of those confusing Oregon winter days - brisk chill in the early morning hours giving way to a pleasant high 40s, sunshine and blue sky. (We all know the rain will return, but in the meantime, we lie to ourselves saying this is how the weather always is in January!)

I happily greeted six co-workers along with three additional family members and four dogs at 9 a.m. at the still frosty dog park. As an added bonus, two other ladies who had heard about our endeavors asked to join us. We divied up chores and set about to move a mound of bark chips to the muddy trails. The Minto Brown Dog Park does not allow motorized vehicles, so moving all the wood chips was down by wheelbarrow, pitchfork and rake (all graciously provided by the City of Salem).

The crew worked steadily and cheerfully for a good two-half hours. Clearly a lot of physical labor for us office workers! Our dogs enjoyed themselves spending their time playing with each other, greeting other dogs in the park and inspecting our bark spreading abilities.

It might be the timing of this MLK Day. We are on the cusp of a momentous inauguration. A glimmer of hope in these dim days is breaking through. The idealist in me seems to be gaining a foothold. We didn't cure cancer today. We didn't solve the world's hunger crisis. We didn't restore the stock market. But we made a few trails less muddy and were thanked by those walking by.

Everybody can be great... because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.

--Martin Luther King, Jr.