Safe, Sound, and Spayed

Hi Helene,

Sorry for the delay, and you probably already know anyway, but Lilly is safe and sound and spayed in San Diego.  I really wasn't comfortable with the vet up here, and with her complications I think it was best she had her surgery at Beth's vets.  Please apologize to Rene for me in regards to being freaked out about Lilly on anesthesia. It eventually wore off, her eyes returned to normal, and I didn't end up taking her to an emergency vet.  I really wish the vet had told me when I picked her up that she would not be herself for 6-7 hours.

It did prove to me one valuable lesson though:  I really need to get re-certified in Pet First Aid & CPR.  I took the class two years ago and luckily haven't had to use the knowledge in all that time, so I wasn't confident if indeed Lilly went into distress (or labor for that matter--which I always knew was a possibility).

I was able however, with Beth's instructions, to take Lilly's temperature to see if she was running a fever.  This dog really will let you do anything to her once she trusts you.  She didn't even seem to notice that I had something ½ an inch up her rectum for three minutes while she lay next to me on the couch.  Strangely though, she still has a problem going through doorways.  I actually respect that philosophy.  If she doesn't want to be put into a certain situation she'd rather not even enter the room, but once she's in, she's in and doesn't fight it.

Beth let me come with her to take Lilly to the vet as soon as I got to San Diego.  The place is AMAZING!  The animals are chill, there's no stress in the expansive waiting room, and best of all when the vet came in to look at Lilly, Lilly actually approached her and gave her a kiss.  Lilly was confident and relaxed (even though it took Beth gently dragging Lilly through the exam doorway--once in, she accepted her fate, and realized it wasn't so bad after all).

It wasn't until it was time for her to go in the back and the vet tech (who Lilly liked just as much as the vet) was about to take her away and Beth said, "These two are a bonded pair--it might take a minute" that I felt the tears start to well up as I said goodbye to Miss Lilly.  My friends always ask when I do this sort of thing whether or not the dog is one I'd adopt.  I remember what a rescuer told me when I first started doing this, that in the beginning you think every dog is the dog you're meant to have, but the longer you do it, the better you become at telling the difference between a dog that's meant to be "your dog" and a dog that is just "a good dog."

Lilly is a good dog.  She's got some issues, but she'll work through them.  And she's got good looks on her side.  On one of our evening walks two guys in their twenties who were getting into a car stopped to tell me how gorgeous she is.  And on our ride down to San Diego at a rest stop, a guy with two black labs commented that she was beautiful.  He had noticed her eyes from several yards away as she stared at him.  He said she was quite intense--not in a scary way, but in the way you know so much is going on behind those eyes.

And I have no doubt there's all sorts of things going on behind those eyes.  She's a funny, ungraceful lady who made me laugh often when I wasn't worried for her health.  The cha-cha (as Beth described it) on the lawn is utterly amusing.  Her attempt at being a lapdog is endearing if you can stand the weight on you.  And the tip of her tail doing a tiny "wag-wag" every time you reach your hand down to give her a treat is so adorable you just want to hug her and never let go.  You can even forgive her snoring and drool on your pillow when she opens her eyes in the morning and looks over at you with the "You're still here!" excited look on her face and thumps her tail twice on the bed.

I will miss her, but the happiness she will have in her new life far outweighs that.  It's been a joy to have her; I only wish I had been able to treat her medical needs so she could have been more physically comfortable.  She's taught me more than just the fact that I should brush up on my first aid for pets.  She's taught me a whole host of things:  that I also should have a first aid kit on hand (I don't even have a human one in the apartment--perhaps that 's something else I should get too); that squirrels truly enjoy taunting dogs and will always be one step ahead of them; that not all dogs understand that when a cat hisses one should back away; that if you really don't want to go somewhere the most effective way to display this is to simply lie down where you are and let gravity assist you; and if you don't want to be bothered with neighborhood cats distracting your dog, simply walk behind the newspaper delivery van early on Sunday morning--I've never seen cats scatter so quickly in my life.

Thanks for the opportunity to hang with Lilly for a bit.  And don't worry: I still want to overnight and transport.  There was a lot of miscommunication and difficulties this time, but I'm chalking it up to there actually being something to this Mercury being in retrograde thing along with a string of unforeseen events complicating matters.  I was never mad at anyone in particular; I was upset by the situation because I didn't feel I could be the advocate for Lilly that I needed to be and didn't have all the tools necessary to help her.  I do need to be dog-free for a brief time to disinfect my apartment and truck, get some work done, and not take advantage of the "visitor dog" unspoken rules in my building.  But if you need just a transport, let me know, or if you know for certain it'll only be a night or two, give me the info and I'll see what I can do.

Thanks!
-stephanie.

It's Not Always Fun...

Lilly had a lot of health issues (aside from needing an abortion that is).  The original plan was to take her to the one vet in town that will perform a spay procedure on dogs with kennel cough on Monday, and then drive her to half way to San Diego on Tuesday where I would meet up with another transporter and he would take her on to the rescue in San Diego.

However, Monday was a disaster.  I brought her in to the vet and simply had a bad feeling about it all.  I admit it--I had grown attached to this little girl, and I wanted to advocate for her but wasn't sure how I could.  It wasn't my money, it wasn't my decision, she wasn't my dog.  I had the rescuer on the phone while trying to relay what was needed during surgery for her (extra precautions) since she needed an abortion, which meant it was even riskier.  She also said that if Lilly had even a slight upper respiratory infection, to call off the whole thing.

I hate being in the middle of the things, especially when I have no idea what I'm talking about.  The vet had me call the rescuer while he was still in the room, and I couldn't voice my concerns (I think pissing off a doctor before surgery is a little like pissing off a waiter before you get your food...just not smart at all).  But the rescuer seemed comfortable with the answers he was relaying to her through me, so we made it a go.

I took Lilly's harness off and said good bye to her after the vet gave her an injection.  He said it was a relaxant since she'd be going into surgery in only three hours.  I walked out of the office with leash and harness in hand and still didn't like my gut reaction.

I called back the rescuer and informed her of the total she would be charged, and that's when things went bad--or maybe good really--because moments later she called the vet and then called me and told me I would be picking Lilly back up and she should not be having the surgery there.  She would be going to her own vet in San Diego that she was more comfortable with.  I agreed.

I absolutely agree it being the right decision, but it gave me a lot of worry, because no one informed me of what happens to an animal who is prepped for surgery but doesn't have it.  Hell, I didn't even know what to expect if she had had surgery.

Lilly couldn't even walk straight.  She hadn't had food or water since 10pm the night before in preparation for her surgery, and then she was given drugs of some sort.  What kind, I don't know since I was told it was called off before it began.  Her eyes were glassy and bloodshot and red.  She dragged her paws.  He breathing was shallow.  I know she wasn't healthy when I brought her in, but by the time I got her back home, I was ready to take her to another vet on my own dime I was so convinced she was about to die.

I spent a lot of time on the phone with various rescuers, trying to discern what was wrong with her.  I obviously didn't trust the one she came from, but I finally had to call to ask what they had given her.  Sadly they couldn't tell me.  They didn't know.  (See why I didn't like this place?)  They just said she might be groggy for a few hours.  Then one rescuer told me that when they prep an animal for surgery sometimes they put something in their eyes so they don't dry out--which might have explained her eyes looking wierd.  I started giving her water and feeding her little bits at a time.  She had developed worms in her feces a few days earlier, and a green goo was coming out of her vaginal regions.  This dog was a mess.

I had been trained in Pet CPR and First Aid back in May of 2007, but two years later I don't remember any of it aside from how to check pulse, breath, and capillary refill.  I felt helpless.  I couldn't take her to a new vet without the rescue's permission, but I didn't know a good vet anyway, and it was already closing time so it would have to be an emergency call which would costs tons of money.

I can care for dogs emotionally, and even physically (walking and feeding), but medically, I'm just not cut out for it.  Finally the rescuer asked me to check her temperature.  If she had a fever, it meant there was an infection and I should take her to the vet.  If not, she would be okay until she got to San Diego.

Half an hour later after asking neighbors if they had a thermometer, I remembered I did have one, but not of the anal variety.  It would have to do.  Surprisingly, Lilly let me insert it into her rectum with only a brief glance to ask what I was going (this nonchalance of what goes into her back end might be how she came to be with puppies...).  No fever.  And while I spent my time freaking out and making phone calls, running in circles not knowing how to get this dog better, simple Time was working.

By 8pm, her eyes had cleared up.  Her grogginess was gone.  She could walk without dragging her paws.  She was not in tip-top shape, but she would make it to San Diego.

But because of this, because of all I had gone through with her and my bond to her, I called the transporter I was supposed to meet and called it off.  I had come this far with Lilly.  I could drive the extra hour to see her to her destination: which was a brief stop at her foster family/rescuer's home, and then on to her vet appointment to get her the best care possible.

I'm sure Lilly would have been fine with the transporter, but I needed to see this through; I needed to see her through this.  I wanted to know where she would be going and to send her off well.  It's the longest I've ever had a dog.  She was supposed to have gone this weekend.  And it's not time that matter but connection, intensity.  I was connected to Lilly, and I wouldn't let go until I knew she was in not just safe and kind hands, but the best hands for her.

Lilly on the Move

I always have a couple of toys on hand in the apartment for my "visitor dogs."  However, Lilly destroyed the last two that were of any fun (they had squeakers) on Thursday night, and she's been bored ever since.  There is one rope toy left, but that doesn't squeak so what fun is that?  Then again, my sneaker and the remote control don't have squeakers, but she was willing to give those a shot as toys before I stopped her.

So, since we needed more toys, and I felt Lilly should start getting used to another wacky human activity besides watching TV: the car ride, we went for a meandering drive up through Sunland and into Tujunga where there's a PetSmart.

I still had to pick her up and place her into the vehicle even though I pointed out she was very well capable of hopping up onto the floor of the cab if she could make it one leap onto my bed in the apartment.  Once inside the panting and drooling began and I sat with her while the AC ran until I felt I could back up the truck without her jumping in my lap.

I've figured out the main problem with her and riding shotgun:  she's a long dog.  A bucket seat just isn't comfortable for her because if she places her butt as far back as possible, her front legs barely stay on the seat.  And since doesn't sleep all curled up like many canines do, but rather sprawls out taking up as much space and planes of existence as possible, she can't just neatly curl up on the seat and fall asleep.  She gave it a try, but she didn't stay that way for very long.  If she had a back of an SUV or even a bench seat to stretch out on, she'd probably have a much better experience.

I forgot to bring treats, so I hoped bringing her down the toy aisle of PetSmart would be good enough.  I was surprised that she didn't grab at any toys or even dive into the dog bones on the lower baskets of the aisles.  I've been hesitant to have her meet people or dogs since she growled at a neighbor of mine when he approached her and she still doesn't emote strongly whether she's happy or not.  She is shy with new people, and was calm when she met two employees--course they're also trained on how to deal with shy dogs, so perhaps they weren't offensive.

As for other dogs, she seldom wags her tail at them.  She's not tense either--just neutral.  Actually on our outing through the neighborhood last night, we had an encounter with a Chihuahua which was the first time I had seen Lilly's tail wag at a dog.  Course it was also the first time a dog ran up to their front gate and actually wagged his tail at us instead of viciously barking and clawing at the fence.  Lilly met the little pup with tail wagging and they touched noses through the metal gate.  It was quite cute.  I really wanted to leave a note on that person's door saying, "Thank you for properly socializing your dog."

As for cats, I still can't get a read on her.  With the neighbor's cat I'll let her stand there and stare because she doesn't lunge and neither does the cat, and there's a big screen security door between them.  But I worry about the rest of the cats in the neighborhood because Lilly gets tunnel vision when she sees a one and nothing will snap her out of it.  These cats rule the neighborhood.  There is a stray tomcat that marks the apartment doors of anyone with a cat every night as if it's some sort of feline Passover.   You don't mess with these cats--they will attack a dog without fear.

Last night there was a Siamese sitting on the edge of the street I wished to cross, and I told Lilly to go in the opposite direction, but Lilly refused to move.  The "it's a party" technique didn't work to get her to move or unlock her eyes from the cat's, and how is a squeaky toy better than a cat?  I ended up once again saying "Lilly, come!" and tugging her away, telling her that if we had to I would make her watch Lady and the Tramp on the big scary picture box to prove to her that Siamese cats are not to be messed with.

She's got a great memory, but really poor eyesight.  She almost convinced me there was a cat under a bush until I took a closer look to see that it was only a tree root.  I had to admit the trick of shadows did make it look like a kitten sleeping.  Every spot in which we have ever seen a cat (and the one tree we saw the squirrel in), we must stop and stare at for a few minutes on our walk.  Even the screen door of my neighbor's apartment when the front door is closed and there's no way there's a cat there, Lilly has to stare at it as if she can see the cat, or as if she make the cat appear simply using the power of her mind.

We did have to trespass on a person's property because Lilly spotted what she thought was a cat on a low windowsill and she refused to turn her head away until proven otherwise.  It actually was a ceramic statue of a Yorkshire Terrier lying down.  The pointy ears must have made her think it was a cat.  Just to prove to her it wasn't, I made sure there was no one in the window first, then I let her walk up to the house and sniff it.  She doesn't always respond to "Come" so I don't know why I thought she'd understand "Retreat" which is a great command for getting off someone's property when you shouldn't be there.  She admitted it wasn't a cat then just stood there, so I again had to awkwardly tug her while saying in a whisper "Lilly, come!" as not to get the attention of the house's inhabitants.

There is one cat she will NOT go near:  it is a four foot high bronze statue of a lion that stands on the corner of an art house down the street from me.  She refused to walk by it, cowering, ears lowered, backing up almost falling off the curb and into the street.  I got her close enough so I could at least touch it so she would see it posed no danger, but she clearly didn't trust my judgement.  She still skirted away, and continued to keep an eye on it as we passed by, turning around to make sure the vicious thing didn't follow us.

She really is shy around people and dogs.  I think she likes little dogs more, as she also wagged her tail at another Chihuahua on my street even though that one was barking at her and had his tail up, protecting his property.   I don't really trust that she won't snap since I can't read her body language.  And because she stares and fixates, it might be construed as a threat to other dogs (clearly cats find it offensive) and I don't want to see her get pounced on either.  As for people, I think it's them approaching her that makes her fearful.  She's still shy, but has the courage to sniff if she's allowed to approach them.  My own fear and distrust though is not good for her at all.  I don't know if she can read my signals, but since I'm tense when we cross paths with a person or dog who wants to meet us, it probably doesn't help.  However, I don't want to be confident and unconcerned either.

I have no idea how the vet's office experience will go tomorrow.  I hope she's okay with the vet staff.  Most of all I hope she doesn't think I betrayed her.  Not feeding her or giving her water for 12 hours is going to be rough especially after her morning walk.  Luckily she hasn't even eating breakfast till 9am, but I don't know what time the actual surgery will take place and she'll be okay to eat again.  I feel bad about taking her in for surgery then just driving her away, but she'll be in need of the pain meds and she really needs her skin taken care of.  She's got one spot in her ear that looks like she made bleed last night.  The sooner she gets back on meds, the better.

Her breathing has gotten better and there are even times when she sleeps now I can't hear her breathing at all.  If she lays down like a normal dog on her stomach and her head on her front paws in front of her, she's silent.  It’s only when she lays on her side and has her head on a pillow that she breathes loudly and erratically, sometimes falling into a loud snore and shallow breath.  The panting is mainly anxiety and she stopped doing that in the car by the time we headed back from PetSmart.  I hope the vet's can accurately state if she's got any breathing issues since I'm sure she'll be panting away when they look at her.

Here's a couple of pics of Lilly in the truck.  She might like car rides in the future with a bigger vehicle, but at least she can handle it without hyperventilating.  Just like with the television, she's not fully cured of her fear, but she definitely trusts both the car and the television more than that bronze lion on the corner.

Lilly has Conquered One Fear

You already know I am no dog trainer.  I thank you for your suggestions on helping Lilly deal with walking on the leash.  To get her to notice the difference between "the road" and "the sidewalk" I took my friend's suggestion of running with her when we cross the street.  She's picked that up quite quickly.  She is also less stubborn when I change up the route we take in the neighborhood.  She doesn't know where we're going so she lets me lead.  And now when she gets stubborn and chooses to just stop or lie down or sit in the middle of walking along the sidewalk (which is less often), I've tried your "jump-up-and-down-and-make-it-a-party" technique with great success.  However, I'm not very perky, and it only works if I really put my all into it and make an ass out of myself.  Lilly doesn't buy it if I don't really sell it to her. 

On a training note more my style, Lilly has finally accepted being in the same room with a television on!  She can now live in a proper home.  Or perhaps she likes me enough now that being with me is worth being in the same room as that kooky moving-picture box.

Last night she still left the room as soon as I turned it on.  I turned it off, called her back in, and when she walked in the room she looked at me, then stared at the TV, then back to me.  "Okay, you're not going to turn it on again, are you?  This best not be a trick."  Then she came up to sit with me.

This afternoon I turned it on while she was busy scratching herself next to me on the couch but turned the volume all the way down.  When she looked up she was shocked to see that the previously black screen now had moving images on it.  She was about to leave but I stopped her with a hug and a few pleas.  She stayed a little longer, then I let her wander off.  I called her back, and she actually came into the room and stayed for about six seconds, all the while keeping an eye on the television.

The third time I called her in I sat on the floor and asked if she wanted to play.  She half-played with me, trying to get the rope toy all the while, having one eye on the screen where the team at the 4077 silently went about their business on M*A*S*H.  When she wasn't looking I increased the volume to where I couldn't hear it, but maybe she could.  It didn't bother her.  But once I raised it to a normal-hearing level, she began to want to leave again.  I enticed her to stay still playing until she fell asleep.

I am worried she might be getting attached today.  Once I rose up from the floor where she was sleeping and moved to the couch, she too rose up and followed me to lie on the couch with me.  I must say it was nice to sit on the couch and watch TV with a dog snoring next to me.  When I got up to come into the office to write this, she once more rose up and followed me, and is currently sleeping behind me.

As for actual night time sleeping considerations, the second night was much better than the first.  When it was bedtime I asked if she needed help up onto the bed (it's a little high and I had lifted her the first time), but every time I went to help her she took her front paws off the bed and walked away.  I said, "Fine" and got into bed.  That's when she turned and took a running leap, landing on top of me.  She just wanted to prove to me that she could do it herself.

She still slept with her head on the pillow, the length of her body next to me, and although she didn't pant heavily when awake, she did snore just as loudly. I slept more hours, so I must be getting used to it.

Last night she slept on the bed almost as if a normal dog would.  She didn't have her head on the pillow, but since she's not a dog that curls up at the end of the bed but sprawls out taking up as much room as possible, it meant her head was at the end of the bed, but I got the other end in my face.  I appreciated the noisy end being farther away, but the smelly one up close wasn't really a great trade-off.

Lilly is a grass connoisseur.  I assume it's because she's eating dog food that she's a tad gassy and possibly the reason for wanting to eat grass.  But she only wants a certain kind of grass.  I don't know the name of it, but she's very particular in picking out which blades she wants--very thin, tall, possibly a weed and not grass at all.  I didn't let her eat much though since I don't know what insecticides or whatnot people put on their lawns around here.

There is grass for eating, but there is also grass for scratching.  I'm sort of embarrassed to say this, but I can pick out which lawn Lilly will choose before she gets there for her back-scratching mayhem.  It's freshly-cut, freshly-watered thick bladed grass in case you're wondering.  I've attached a video of it that I took with my phone; I hope you can see it.  Still photography just doesn't do it justice.  The first time she did it, I thought she was just lying down taking a break, but then she burrowed her face into the grass and began this strange twisty dance.  And of course she chose the lawn next to the house with the dog going nuts in the window because she was there.  That was a very brief back-scratching.  But on our evening walk last night she found a large lawn with no one around and rather enjoyed it, so I let her have at it.  In the video she is sliding off the hill onto the sidewalk while growling.   It wasn't until ten minutes later that I looked up and realized there was a person in the front window of the house; she was fixing the windowpane and didn't look at us, but I had to wonder how long she watched me with this crazy dog spazing out on her front lawn.



Lilly has also met two kinder cats--two that live in my building.  I think the problem is that she doesn't always show her intent.  She just stares, ears up but not forward or back, eyes wide, and legs stable, and tail hung low but loose.  It's not an invitation to play, nor is it a warning....or maybe it is.  Perhaps this is the equivalent of a canine about to go postal--I don't know because I don't let it get that far.  The cat and her stared at one another through a metal screen door for quite some time while the cat's owner and I chatted.  Lilly took a step forward, the cat hissed, and Lilly continued going forward (not really since I stopped her--but she would have had I not).  She didn't understand the cat hissing.  She barked back in response, but that was it.  Spying another cat in the window next door, she took her loss and went to try to make a new friend.

The next cat was meowing her, and she wanted to meet her, but I couldn't have her jumping up on the side of the building.  She's getting better at listening to me (or rather, doing as I tell her to).  When I told her we'd meet that cat another day she got down and followed me back to my apartment.  And earlier in the day when it was clear there was no way she could reach the squirrel who was taunting her in the tree, she backed away and moved on.

Maybe it's a respect thing.  Maybe it's just getting used to being here, but she is starting to come when called, and if I have to jump up and down and be all excited to get her to end the stand-offs on walks, so be it.  It's far better than yelling and swearing and trying to pick her up to move her.  Who knows--maybe she just joins me when I do that because I amuse her.

Here's a couple of other pics of her on the couch as well.

Lilly demonstrates how to have an entire couch to yourself.

Sexy Mama.

Lilly's First 24 Hours

I apologize for not having any pics of Lilly on her exit from the shelter and the drive back to the valley.  She was not terribly comfortable with the idea of being in a vehicle, and trying to calm down 50 pounds of panting/drooling pit bull is a difficult enough task sans camera.

She actually didn't even want to get in the truck to begin with; must be a testament to how much she really was the favorite at the shelter--she didn't want to go anywhere her popularity was unknown.  Her classic refusal stance is to lay down, front legs first, so you have no way of  scooping her up.  She enacted this mode upon reaching my truck in the parking lot of the shelter.

However, once we got home, she didn't immediately bounce out.  She sat there as I shut things off, not really understanding that this meant freedom from the car.  She couldn't get down on her own, but in her defense, if this was her first time in a vehicle, it's a long way down from the seat from the ground.  Much like how she got in, she got out via me lifting her awkwardly.

I don't believe she's ever been in a home before.  She has however, had toys.  She's a huge fan of the squeaky toys, preferably the plush ones/woolly ones she can rip the stitches out; the point of a toy is to destroy it.  She really liked an old beat up fish plush toy I had and she carried around for a while then tried to bury it--in the carpet!  I explained it was a futile effort and that despite the color, the carpet was not actual dirt.  Also, no one would take her toy--except me when she started taking the stuffing out--which was about twenty minutes later.

She is a bit untrusting of this strange noisemaker we call a television.  I turned it on last night and she looked at it with curiosity, sprinkled with fear.  Then as I changed the channel, she turned and tried to burrow through the back of the couch.  I turned it off, but she still felt the need to leave the room.  It was just too friggin' weird for her.

She does like her alone time, whether or not a television is involved.  She slept a bit in my bedroom alone on the floor in the dark last night and this morning.  I retried the television this evening, giving her a treat while I turned it on.  She chewed on the treat, all the while eyes wide open staring at the television.  Once the treat was consumed she once more buried her head in the pillow of the couch, then when I entreated her to watch, she simply left the room and is currently lying in the hallway.

Despite her independence, she has this little chirpy noise she makes like a high-pitched growl when she's feeling ignored.  At least it started like that.  Now, 24 hours later, she's comfortable enough with me to voice her opinion loudly in a gruff, unladylike bark.

Last night I thought she'd sleep on the floor on the towel I lay down for her.  She had been sleeping there hours before.  However, once I was on the bed, she too wanted the bed.  I had to lift her the first time.  She didn't seem comfortable, though.  In the dark she rocked the bed facing one way, lying down, only to stand up a moment later move 45 degrees to the left, and lie down again, repeating this until she came full circle.  She was panting heavily and drooling, and of course, making sure her body never hit any part of the towel I placed on the bedspread which marked the area I wished her to sleep on.

I put her down off the bed and she lasted on the floor for about ten minutes--or exactly the amount of the time it took for me to fall asleep--before she rose up and stuck her nose in my face.  I told her to lie down.  To my surprise, in one giant leap she made it from the floor to the bed.  She really doesn't "jump" as much as "climb" on things--including getting on the couch, getting on me, walking on the curbs--so the jump shocked me.

She discovered that the most comfortable was to sleep was just like I was.  Screw the end of the bed.  These pillows are lovely!  First she lay on her side and placed her big head on my chest and then burrowed it into my neck.  My miniature dachshund used to do that, but she fit a little better, seeing as she had a long nose and her head is smaller than mine, unlike Lilly, whose square head tried to knock my cranium off to make room on my shoulder.

She eventually settled on pinning my arm down with her legs and neck and resting her head either under or on the nearest pillow and snoring loudly.  I actually preferred it when she buried her head since it muffled the sound and was far better than when she was just breathing heavily in my face.  I'm glad she has decent dog breath.  Through the heavy breathing and snoring, I didn't sleep much last night.  I'm hoping tonight is better.

Lilly is a big personality, very intelligent, and VERY stubborn (the smart ones usually are, aren't they?).  She definitely needs some training.  She's usually fine on the leash except when we disagree on which direction to head or the fact that she feels like standing there and I think we should be moving on.  She doesn't tug so much as stand her ground, and if that doesn't work, simply lowers her center of gravity and lays down. 

I did discover today that she is not housebroken.  Lilly has the distinction of being the first dog to ever pee in my apartment.  I thought she was housebroken since she had made it through the night and had gone outside the night before.  We went out in the morning about 8:30 and a little before 2pm after she had a nap I told her we were going outside.  She looked perplexed, grabbed her toy, and headed for the bedroom to romp and play.  She really can amuse herself on her own.  I put on my shoes, went to the bedroom to tell her come out and she walked into the hallway, dropped her toy and starting peeing.  I told her No, Stop, and tapped her butt to get up (since having her walk while peeing didn't seem like a better option).  She just turned her head to me while she finished her long pee like she was saying, "What?  I'm peeing."  No remorse.  No notice she had to go.  No idea that it was wrong at all.

I'm going to start taking her out every 2 hours just to make sure she gets the idea to go outside.  This afternoon she did alert me twice that she wished to go outside and both times she went.  We just need to learn each other's language.  And now that I have dog treats, I can actually start to reward her when she does right.

Today she also got to experience a pet store.  I didn't take her to a big PetCo; just a small local pet store.  She didn't want to get in the truck to begin with.  She still hates riding in the car.  But one more, when we got to our destination, she refused to get out of the truck.  This time it wasn't how far away the ground was.  She actually climbed over to the driver's side when I opened the door.  I had to pick her up and remove her.  Then she refused to walk through the doors of the store.  The automatic doors were open, but she again stood her ground, refusing to go inside.  I gave her a bit of time to change her mind, and finally on her own she opted to follow me.  She didn't pee on anything or steal toys out of the toy aisle.  She was great. However, back at the vehicle, she didn’t want to get in again.  I keep telling her I'm more stubborn than she is, and the human card generally trumps everything else.

This time when we got home she did get out of the vehicle herself.  She just needed to come out through the driver's side.  Perhaps like sleeping, she figures she might as well try my way.

I don't believe she has kennel cough.  I truly think the panting and heavy breathing are from anxiety and the snoring is from having her head in awkward positions in relation to her chest.  She is a loud breather, but I'm not concerned she's ill.  As for the Murphy's Oil, for her skin, I'll give it a try tomorrow.

She really will make someone an awesome dog.  She's incredibly intelligent and stubborn; I think the only way she'll be trained is to really respect her adopter.  She's got a lot to learn about humans, and I think she's doing mighty well considering the circumstances.

Lilly's Here

Lilly's sleeping in Burbank!  I hope by now you got the call regarding the fact that this little girl might be preggers.   I still took her since I didn't think that would be a reason to NOT pick her up.  Plus I had already signed the paperwork.  She's my priority for the week, so if there is somewhere she should get spayed, let me know where to take her.

I can make a better assessment after tonight, but so far I haven't heard her cough not does she have any nasal discharge.  She is a loud breather, but I can't say it sounds terribly labored.  And she tore into the toys I had like she was perfectly fine. :)  She panted a lot while playing and getting all worked up giving kisses and hugs, but since she's been relaxing she's not panting.

She definitely has small patches of fur missing, and right around the eyes, so if you find out what to do with Murphy's Oil, please let me know!

From what I can tell she was given one round of meds for kennel cough a month ago, then given the bad med for skin on 8/30 prescribed for 30 days, and then on 8/31 was put back on antibiotics for kennel cough because of nasal discharge...but could the discharge been a reaction to the bad skin meds?

If she is indeed pregnant, I don't imagine any of these medications could be good for the pups.  Is there any vet she could go to just to check in on everything--including whether or not she is pregnant or can be spayed?

I'm going to take her for a short walk before bed now; I'll write more in the morning and try to get some good pics of her.  She really is quite a sweetheart!  Got some good stories already but since she's been sleeping for the past hour I figure I should hit the hay now so I'm ready when she wakes me up at dawn!

-stephanie

Meeting Lilly

Often times, there is very little notice when one needs to pick a dog up from the shelter.  This time I actually had over 48 hours.  Helene, who was my contact for the Freckles transport asked me if I could foster two dogs.  I had to admit I was comfortable with only one at a time.  Luckily the other dog in need got a foster, and I was lined up to pick up a black and white pit bull named Lilly on Tuesday from the shelter.  Helene was still raising funds for her boarding, but because Lilly was on Death Row, she needed out ASAP.  Helene estimated she could raise the rest of the boarding funds within a week, so I agreed I could keep her up to seven days only.

Lilly was in sad condition.  She had kennel cough, which prevented her from being spayed before leaving the shelter (meaning I would have to take her in during the week if she was well enough), and she was almost done with her treatment for mange.

Little note on Mange:  yes, it looks gross, but most cases is not contagious.  The easiest way for me to explain it (and how I understand it), is it's like having a yeast infection or thrush, except rather than the overgrowth of a bacteria or yeast, it's an overpopulation of parasites that are naturally occurring and should be there on a dog's skin anyway.  It's just an imbalance, but if you've ever seen it, you know how awful it looks.  Imagine having it! Lilly still had a few furless spots, but overall she looked good.  Clearly the medication was working.

As I said with Freckles, shelters don't give you the meds a dog is on when you pull him or her, so Lilly had to go without the rest of the mange treatment.  However,  it turns out that having the meds was far worse than not having them.  As the animal control officer brought her out, she looked at Lilly suspiciously, then spoke with another officer, felt Lilly's abdomen and said, "Hmmm, I think this girl's pregnant."

Two issues with that:  1. she's been on meds that kill mange; most likely if there's puppies inside her, then the puppies have not developed properly and might even be dead, and 2. yes she can get spayed, but it becomes a spay/abortion procedure.

[Just a disclaimer for the shelter:  a dog going into the shelter is not like a human going into the emergency room--they don't ask or test to see if the animal is pregnant.  Most likely when Lilly had been brought in (which was now weeks ago) she wasn't showing, but the mange was, so they treated what they knew about.]

I couldn't just turn the dog away because she might be pregnant, and according to some estimation based on how long she'd been at the shelter, that she might even give birth at my apartment.  The shelter worker said she'd notify the rescue, and since I didn't think they would refuse her just because she got knocked up, I took her home with me anyway.  And so began the Lilly adventure.