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Introducing Torque!

Torque

There's a new puppy in the family!

Torque (8-week-old French Bulldog) and I got home yesterday evening about 5:30 p.m.

I was pretty darn tired after driving more than nine hours and stressing through the border crossing. All I really wanted to do was drag all my crap into the house and fall into bed. Not even a remote option. I had a puppy to introduce to our three resident nutjobs.

I wasn't really worried about Tango. He's always been a hostile little **** and it was a pretty safe bet his reaction would be to bark his fool head off, lunge at the puppy and try to teach him who was boss. Which sounds scarier than it is, since Tango has about half a dozen teeth in his head and no jaw strength at all. I was right - he barked, chased and growled. Torque basically laughed at him, said "you funny!" and chased after him for more.

Booker and Torque

Teddy was a concern. He's definitely my boy and there was a chance he'd get jealous, decide to hate Torque, or, if we weren't incredibly watchful, do some damage. At first, I thought my fears were coming true. Teddy was incredibly noisy, barking and trying to chase Torque. It turns out that my big boy is just pretty much socially inept. Within half an hour he was play-bowing, waving his paws at Torque, and generally being incredibly adorable and charming. We have to remind him to play nice, but they're well on their way to being best buddies.

Booker was the one who didn't meet expectations. He's an energetic, two-year-old who lives to play. And yet, he seemed a bit lost when confronted with a puppy a third his size. He didn't seem to know what to make of him at all; circling, sniffing. Intrigued, but not ready to engage. By this morning he figured it out - Torque is his new playmate.

Roller coaster ride

The last two days have run the gamut - incredible joy and soul-searing loss.
On Sunday, after a very, very long, discouraging run of competition, Teddy and I qualified in an agility trial. While, admittedly, we've competed only sporadically for the past 18 months, it was nevertheless discouraging to come away with only experience. Both of our runs on Sunday were fun and fast. Teddy stayed with me and did everything I asked of him. In Jumpers With Weaves Team Teddy made a couple of mistakes, one mine, one his, but we had fun and I was happy - especially since it had been months since our last competition.
Then in our Standard run - everything clicked. It was one of those instances when everything was going right. I didn't know if we'd qualified, the judge is a bit tight on time, but I was just thrilled. As it turns out, we succeeded and came away with not only a qualifying score, but first place in our class. Sheer, unmitigated joy.

And then there was yesterday. A normal day at work. I got home to find my sister Fran cleaning up a mess little Roc had made - he couldn't help it and he wasn't happy about it. I think we both knew then that Roc was tired of fighting the pain and disability that has progressed over the past year. So I made a choice and the veterinarian who has cared for him since the day I brought him home sent him gently into that good night. Sheer, unmitigated grief.

I love them both. Tears of joy and sadness.

He's old. We're done with him...

What will you do when your dog gets old?

Personally, I take care of him, and cuddle him, and let him do all the things he loves as long as he's happy and comfortable.

I recently learned that there are people out there who don't. When their dogs get old, they bring them to a shelter and leave them. Done. And then go out and get another dog.

And when I heard about their behavior, I rushed to judgement - deciding immediately that anyone who could do that was despicable and loathsome. Beyond contemptible. 

But I found out that there's a segment of the population that believes "it's what you do." They don't know that it's okay to cherish an animal throughout its life - however long that may be. It's what their families have always done, so it's what they do. When their pet reaches a certain age or level of infirmity, they relinquish it to a shelter.

Perhaps we need to work on educating people that they're allowed to love their old dogs forever. And stop seeing stories like this one:

Family surrenders 16-year-old Pomeranian to shelter because she's too old

Cassie used to be part of the family for more than five years, but on September 6, the 16-year-old Pomeranian found herself all alone and not feeling so great at the Carson Animal Care Center in California. Cassie's intake information indicates her family surrendered their dog because she was too old. Admittedly, 16 is a ripe old age for any dog, but isn't that the time for a soft caress, a soft bed and a familiar home? Not so for Cassie; sorry to report, and as if the family expected someone to rush right in and save the dog they dumped, here is what they stated:"...But they said that I spend most of my time indoors. I am house trained. I am learning how to walk on a leash. I should be the only pet in the house."

Allergy season

For the most part, Teddy's a pretty predictable dog. Every once in a while he'll start barking madly for no reason whatsoever, but there's usually a reason for his behavior. If I can figure it out. Yesterday I was a bad dog mom. He was acting weird, and I just got annoyed.
Sundays are pretty predictable around the house. The morning is spent on "ablutions" for four dogs. Nails, teeth, ears, face-washing, etc. As part of the routine I rinse off paws, especially Teddy's, because he has a mild grass allergy and we want to keep it under control As a matter of routine, I rub in some stuff the vet recommended to keep the ph of his skin where it should be.

In the afternoon we collapse. It's our time to do absolutely nothing. The dogs all know the routine and are all happy participants. You'd think a dog bomb went off in the tv room on a Sunday afternoon - little limp, sleepy bodies littering the floor and furniture. 

Yesterday Teddy wouldn't settle. He was making me crazy. He didn't have to go out, he didn't want to play, he didn't want to chew; not even on Booker. 

On one of our numerous trips outside, I noticed how pink his ears were. And, stupid me, thought "isn't that adorable."

It finally dawned on me that ear irritation is an allergy symptom. Sure enough, all four paws were red and angry looking. Teddy's allergic to the new goop from the vet. 

I washed his paws again, with hypoallergenic dog shampoo, dried him off. 

Simple answer. We both collapsed on the couch for the rest of the afternoon. 

Wish I'd paid more attention, sooner. It would have saved Teddy some discomfort and me some aggravation.

Disconcerting

Yesterday was a scary first in Roc's and my life together. When I got home from running errands, he wasn't barking. He wasn't fussing. He didn't wake up. I called his name, gently at first. Touched him, again, gently. He's at the stage when I check for breathing before I think "Roc's so cute when he's sleeping."
He finally awoke and had his normal amount of difficulty walking and moving around, not so bad. It's another indicator that our time together is getting shorter. So we'll enjoy every day that we have, little Rocky-dude.

Greener Grass

 We had a bit of a problem with our backyard. The grass died along our back fence. The new lawn service (we get a guy to mow) thought it was a feature rather than a bug. So widened it and weeded it and maintained a lovely patch of dirt. We thought it was kind of interesting when the birds in the neighborhood enjoyed taking dirt baths. It was much less fascinating when Booker discovered dirt baths. Which were followed by water baths and wiping mud off the bathroom walls.

 In an effort to do something about it (three Booker baths in two days prompted some action), we went to the home improvement store and bought the required ingredients for lawn: topsoil, fertilizer, seed, and a seed blanket.
My thumb is notoriously black - if it's green and it grows it runs screaming in the opposite direction when I approach. Imagine our surprise when, after only a week, there are signs of an impending lawn! I keep expecting failure in all things outdoors. Booker may be sad about the changes, but he probably won't miss the bathtub.

Running around - again

Sometimes I hate being a grown-up.

Just for a while, wouldn't it be nice if we could shed responsibility? If worries could go away for a while? If there weren't 80 kabillion things we had to take care of?

I'd like to hide in my bedroom, sleep 'til noon, be grumpy and not face the world.

Instead, today's agenda:

Work: actually a pleasure. I'm lucky enough to love my job and the questions/issues that come up are addressable. 

Dentist: My cracked tooth cannot be saved. Exact quote from dentist: "Catastrophic break." 

Veterinarian: Teddy is sleepy. Extraordinarily, worryingly sleepy. Weirdly sleepy.

Obedience Class: 30 miles away in rush-hour traffic. May not get there, depending on what the veterinarian says about Teddy.

The stereotype suggests that middle-aged spinsters like me should stay home with their multitudes of cats, reading in a corner. (I was going to say "rocking chair," but that's probably a bad idea with that many cats.) Not me. My current five-year-old vehicle has more miles on it than my first, 13-year-old-vehicle did. There's always something on the schedule, something to be responsible for, someplace I have to be, go, do.

And, having written about it - I'm very grateful for all of it. Getting older is better than the alternative.

Momma said there'd be days like this...

I love my dogs. A lot. I like spending time with them, doing "stuff" with them, and just hanging out.
Yesterday I didn't like either one of them at all.
Understand that most Sunday mornings without plans are devoted to "dog ablutions" - nails, teeth, ears, etc. Each dog doesn't take long, but when you take care of four (my sister's two and my two), it adds up to a couple/three hour chunk of time.
Afterwards, I just wanted to relax.
Roc was too hot, so I got the cool pack for him to lie on. He settled.
Teddy jumped off the couch and started whining. Booker jumped on Teddy and a vigorous round of "bitey-face" ensued.
Roc got paranoid about the two others jumping on and off the couch and started whining. And shaking, which usually means he has to go outside to potty.
Take Roc out - everybody goes. Booker insists on eating grass.
Come back inside - Booker throws up, Roc poops in the house (his disability means he's not always aware when he has to go).
Get everybody/everything cleaned up, attempt to relax again.
Teddy won't come in the tv room to relax - whines by the back door. Lift Roc off the couch (heaven forbid I leave the room without him), go see what Teddy wants. Mr. "I can't poop when anyone's watching" wants to go out.
Take Teddy and Roc outside.
Come in, attempt to watch tv. Roc's too cold on his ice pack, take it away. Teddy chooses a bone to gnaw on. Booker wants it. More bitey-face, more paranoia, rinse and repeat.
Not the restful Sunday afternoon I'd planned. And, something I never thought I'd say - Tango earned the "Best Dog" award of the day.

Booker

Roc and Teddy

Tango

Getting ready for prime time

Teddy and I ventured back into the realm of competitive obedience on Saturday. We went to a Correction Clinic (practice obedience trial) hosted by a local club.
I realized when I got there how much my training has changed over the last few years. Teddy was one of only a handful of dogs at the match who wasn't wearing a training (choke) or prong collar. I've become immersed in "positive reinforcement" training. I'd forgotten it was the rule, rather than the exception, to actually use "corrections" at a Correction Clinic.
You don't have to, of course. So I didn't. And Teddy did great!
We tried our hand at both Beginner Novice and Novice exercises and Teddy would have qualified in both if it had been a "real" trial.
So it's time to go for the real thing and actually enter a competition. I spent a chunk of time this morning waffling about it. I found a relatively close trial, with great judges, and sat there with my entry all filled out, thinking "I have until Wednesday, maybe I'll see how he does in class tomorrow and then decide," and "Maybe I'll just enter Beginner, instead of Novice, just to see how he does."
I'm not sure why competition has become such a bug-a-boo for me. Teddy knows what he's supposed to do, I know what I'm supposed to do. And I won't be devastated if we don't succeed. But I didn't seem able to hit "enter" for that entry.
Then my sister reminded me of my resolve. "Just put your big-girl pants on and enter Novice." So I did. Wish us luck!
-Hope

Still learning, after all these years

Last night there was some wild and woolly weather in the Chicago area. My phone kept announcing weather alerts, watches, warnings, etc. The thunder was almost continuous for a couple of hours. We've been lucky that none of our current crew of dogs cares about loud noises - thunder and fireworks don't usually bother this bunch.
So I was at my wit's end last night - Roc couldn't settle. He was panting, restless, and shaking. I didn't know what to do. I took him out for a potty break. We got a little wet in the rain, but it didn't solve his discomfort. I took away the cooling mat he usually lies on in the evening. That wasn't it. I held him close, that didn't help.
Finally, feeling like a really bad dog-mom, I put him on the floor (he can't get on or off the furniture himself any more) and basically threw my hands up.
He went over to the bed that was his favorite for years before his back problems. Climbed in and went to sleep. Napped comfortably there until bedtime.
Sorry, dude. I know you've never really been much of a lap dog/cuddler. There are times when a guy needs some "me" time.
-Hope

Team for a lifetime

As Roc requires more of my time and attention I worry that Teddy isn't getting enough of either. It's a balancing act that's part of everyone's life, since we haven't found a way to stretch time.
To make sure I'm not falling behind with training and spending time with the Ted-Monster, I go to obedience or agility class even on the days I'd rather just collapse on the couch after work.
I always wind up being happy I went - one of the reasons I have dogs is that I love spending time with them, I enjoy the training process, and it's wonderful when you see your dog finally "get" the behavior you're working on. You can almost see Teddy being proud of himself.
It's also an opportunity to spend an hour - even if it's the only hour you get all week - to ignore all of the stresses and demands on your time. I can shut out everything else when I'm training my dog. Precious time, indeed.
I extend that time for a few minutes every day. Whether we work on a perfect "front" or a faster "recall," or just try to get a few, perfect heeling steps, I meet Teddy's eyes, we're working together, and we're a team.
The training and teamwork lasts a lifetime. Roc remembers all those little things, too. And when I ask him for one of them - his tail still wags.
-Hope

Living with a little old dog

Roc on his 12th birthday in December, 2013

I went into the vet's office this morning to pick up some medicine refills for Roc. My little old man isn't doing all that great these days - something happened to his back in December and he's losing the use of his back legs.
In all honesty, neither the vet nor I really expected him to still be here in June - if we hadn't been able to control his pain, he wouldn't be. He has trouble getting up from a sit or from lying down, his back legs don't always turn when he does, and he doesn't always realize that his right, rear paw is upside down. I fix it for him.
And because of the medication he's on, he gets really warm. So I bought a bunch of flexible cooler sheets that rotate in and out of the freezer and under his towel on the couch. So he's cool enough to enjoy watching his beloved television.

Teddy and I wanted to
go walking on vacation.
 Roc came along strapped
to my front in his Pooch Pack.

And he's lost feeling and control of his back end, he doesn't always know when he has to poop and doesn't always make it outside anymore. But he still yells for his dinner (and breakfast, and snacks), and he still likes to play with his toys (even if "fetch" is just a few inches in front of him), and he still likes it when I hold him and give him big, smacky kisses. And he still loves barking at the lawn service, the mail carrier, the UPS guy, and his brother.
Today the vet gave me "the talk." She was acting as Roc's advocate - she's known him since I brought him home as a four-month-old puppy. She wants to make sure that Roc is still here because he's happy, not because I need him to be. I was able to reassure her - according to her own rules, which she told me years ago, it's not time. It's a good way to know - think of your dog's three favorite things. When two of them are gone, it's probably time.
I've let my friends know that vacations I've planned probably won't be happening - Roc can't travel and I won't leave him now. Having a little old dog restricts the time I can be away from home - he needs his medicine twice a day, and really can't "hold it" for more than a few hours anymore.
Non-dog people might think it's not worth it. But they'd be wrong. Roc is still my best little buddy, my first obedience dog, and my responsibility. And the day I brought him home I made a promise to him that I'd always be there for him. And I will.
-Hope

Securing my dogs' future

The last week has found us deeply immersed in the dog world - and wanting to share. The best way we can think of is to dust off the old blog and give it another spin. We're hoping to make it a habit - but not going to promise.

Yesterday our training club addressed an important issue for all of us who love our pets and consider them members of the family - estate planning and pet trusts. There was an article going around the internet a few weeks ago entitled "Will you be coming home to your pet." Lots of good ideas (entering an ICE number in your cell phone, hiding a key so your emergency contact has access to your home, etc.) for emergencies, but not long-term planning.

There were over 20 people at our club meeting - all of them deeply involved in dog training, dog sports, dog competition. And not one of us raised our hands when the speaker, Peter Canalia (CanaliaandClark.com) asked us if we had created a pet trust. Ooops.

According to Mr. Canalia, 10% of the pets euthanized in this country every year lose their lives because their owners made no provisions for their care. I'm not going to let that happen to my dogs.

Based on what I've learned, I think a Pet Trust is the best solution - naming a trustee to oversee the funds,
 and a caretaker to oversee the pets. And back-ups for both of them. It doesn't have to be a boat-load of money in the trust, and I can even buy a life insurance policy to fund it - just name the trust as the beneficiary. It seems like a relatively easy and painless way of making sure my pets get the care they deserve.
-Hope

It’s not funny – it’s your fault

I have an online friend who, almost daily, mentions her poodle puppy’s naughtiness. He chewed up a couple leashes, he counter-surfed and smashed dinner to the floor. He strewed the nice, clean laundry all over the house. He knocked over some plants.

It’s in line with the “dog shaming” posts that people are uploading – hanging a sign around their dogs’ necks detailing the dog’s supposedly shameful behavior.

I don’t think it’s funny. Any of it. And it’s not the dog’s fault – it’s yours.

If you know your dog is prone to chewing stuff up – why is it loose in the house when you run out for 10 minutes? And why do you act surprised when your own experience has taught you to expect exactly the result you got?

Why don’t you just crate your dog for those 10 minutes and, when you get back, spend another 10 teaching your dog to “leave it?” You spent that much time cleaning up the mess he left.

Don’t these people see what I see? If your dog gets in the garbage every day – don’t take a picture of it and “shame” the dog. You’re just telling us you’re a bad dog owner.

Instead, pay some attention! If you can’t bring yourself to crate the dog when you’re not paying attention, snap on his leash and tie it to your belt loop. If he’s always in sight, you have every opportunity to reward him for being “good.”

Dog training should be about paying attention and teaching your dog how to make good choices. Limit his access to “naughty” behavior and reward behavior you want.

One of my instructors often reminds us of this Albert Einstein quote: “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

I own my dogs

They are my property and I own them.

I’m not a pet “guardian” or pet “parent.” I paid money to acquire my dogs; I own them, I didn’t adopt them and I can do what I like with them.

Seems rather a harsh statement, doesn’t it? I have good reason for it. Dogs have no rights in our legal system. The law considers them property, so I do, too.

This way I’m the only one with authority over their treatment, care, and whereabouts. I know what’s best for my dogs and try my best to achieve it.

The most prominent “animal rights” organizations have begun referring to pet owners as “pet parents” or “guardians.” I find this very scary. One group is talking now about “adopting” pets, not only from shelters, but from responsible breeders.  I know, having dug deep into the innards of these groups, that their ultimate goal is a world in which humans and animals have no interaction. Their objective is not only a completely vegan human society, but one in which all animals are “left alone.” No pets, no farm animals, no zoos, no animal sanctuaries, no veterinarians. No contact. Completely separate worlds for animals and people.

I don’t know for sure about your dogs, but only one of mine is capable of finding her own food – and she really didn’t care for the rabbit once she’d caught it. None of mine would survive a winter in the wild. You’ll find them curled up in front of the heat vents all winter.

While I do believe that every animal (and person!) should live free from suffering, I don’t think that animals suffer merely by being in human care. I think most pets are appreciated, well-cared-for and indulged. Their lives, as well as those of their owners, are improved by the relationship.

In casual conversation I do refer to my “kids.” But I know they’re not – they’ll never “grow up” to lead independent lives and be taxpayers. I didn’t adopt my dogs – I bought them, under contract. That is our legal relationship. And that’s fine – because I know what’s best for them.

Focusing on the mission

If you've noticed a change in direction here at the GollyLog lately - you're right. We've tightened our focus to become more useful.

Being helpful to owners of small dogs was the original reason we started our shop - Golly Gear. As small dog owners all of our adult lives, we knew it was difficult to find the "right" stuff for our dogs - harnesses/collars/leashes that fit, toys our dogs could carry, treats that weren't larger than their meals, etc.

We may have wandered off that tight focus for a while - 2012 was a difficult time for us, as well as many of you. We've gotten back on track - reaffirming that original mission for ourselves and our shop.

Our focus at Golly Gear has tightened - emphasizing the needs of people like us, whose dogs are companions, partners, and family members - not accessories or fashion statements.

With a new website and renewed focus, we have a new energy to serve our Golly Gear community even better - finding and offering fun, affordable and practical products for small dogs.

Dogs are integral parts of our lives - both professionally and personally. We like spending time with them, training them, playing with them, and holding down the couch with them.

And one of the best things our dogs have brought us is the connection with other "dog people." We are members of the North Shore Dog Training Club - the oldest AKC-member obedience club in the U.S. And we're proud to be part of the "All Fours Agility Team" - even though we're not the most experienced or skilled team-members and we'll never be asked to play for the softball team, we're just that awful at throwing toys or treats.

GollyGear.com, NSDTC, and All Fours have brought us wonderful friends, people who we never would have had the good fortune to meet if we weren't all "dog people."

Dog people are among the best in the world. We've found, as a community, that most dog-lovers have a wonderful compassion for others - perhaps because we all know the real meaning of unconditional love. We may all be incredibly busy - most have jobs in the "real world" and make time for "dog stuff" when we can, but there's always seems to be time for dog people to lend a hand, or answer a question, or provide a shoulder to cry on.

We're lucky enough to know very few people who would say "It's just a dog." And we feel sorry for anyone who would.

Play with your dog!

Playing tug with my Teddy

I was assisting the instructor at our obedience club's puppy class on Tuesday night and a very sad thing occurred to me. Most people don't seem to know how to play with their dogs.

Sounds odd, doesn't it? And it was a strange realization for me, too. The half-dozen people in class range in age from teens to mid-sixties. Their puppies run the gamut, too; from a four-pound Chihuahua to a six-month old Viszla, with a Boston Terrier, a KleeKai, and two French Bulldogs in the mix.

One of the Frenchie people was having trouble getting her dog's attention. He was interested in the other dogs, in me, in the instructor, in the dogs in the Rally class across the room - everything but his very nice "mom." There were a couple of reasons for that - the first one being that he didn't have to look for "mom" because she had his leash so tight he knew exactly where she was - at the other end of the very taut leash. The other reason is that mom's not much fun.

I encouraged her to get his attention by playing with him - and she responded that she hadn't brought a toy to class. And she seemed astonished when I said "You don't need a toy - have him play with you!"

It never seemed to occur to her - or most of the other people in class.

So I got down on my knees and gave her dog a little poke. Then I put my hand against his chest and gently pushed. It got his attention. So I gave him another chest push. And he rebounded back, ready to play and eager to interact with me. And we had a lovely few minutes playing "throw the puppy away." And his mom was astounded - she'd never seen him so happy to play with someone and she'd had no idea how to start the game.

Dogs are many things in our lives; companions, friends, protectors, comforters, but they're also play machines. Let yourself play with your dog - get down on the floor and be a silly kid for a while. Toys are wonderful - play fetch, play tug, play keep-away. If you don't have a toy, play shove-the-puppy, or tummy-tickle, or you-can't-catch-me. Don't worry about anyone else seeing you, or what anyone else will think. If they have any sense they'll admire your spirit and be a little bit jealous that you know how to have fun.

Dogs can live a lot of fun in just a few minutes and they're excellent reminders to live in the moment we have.

Live healthy - get a dog!

In keeping with Earth Day, I "Googled" pets and pollution - figuring I'd write about the impact our dogs have on the environment and what we could do to minimize it.
All I found was a bunch of articles about cleaning up after your dog. So scoop the poop, people!

What I did find that was much more interesting was the positive effect of pet ownership on human health. As aggravating as they may be at times - it turns out my dogs are good for me. (Remind me of this, please, the next time I complain about those "rolling ocean" sounds coming from Dax at 3 o'clock in the morning.)

There are lots of ways that pets have a positive impact on our health; lowering blood pressure and anxiety, and now we discover that pets are good for kids with allergies - good to know this record-pollen-level Spring!

Back in the dark ages when I was a child with allergies, my mother was instructed to get rid of carpeting, drapes, upholstered furniture and the dog. So, a bit obnoxious even then, I asked the doctor what the effect of not following instructions would be. A Spartan lifestyle may be good for some, but not my taste, even then. And there was no way my dog was going anywhere without me. Basically, he told me that my nose would be stuffed. Like it had been forever.

So we went home and changed little, if anything, around the house. And umpteen years later, I can still breathe. And my face does make noise sometimes (sniffing, coughing and sneezing), which upsets my dog Roc (Mom's face is NOT allowed to make noise), but I'm fine.

And it was the right thing to do. According to researcher James E. Gern, MD, a pediatrician at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, in an article in the Journal of Allergy and Clinical Immunology cited in WebMD.com, children living with "furred animals" have fewer allergies. 
In his recent study, Gern analyzed the blood of babies immediately after birth and one year later. He was looking for evidence of an allergic reaction, immunity changes, and for reactions to bacteria in the environment.
If a dog lived in the home, infants were less likely to show evidence of pet allergies -- 19% vs. 33%. They also were less likely to have eczema, a common allergy skin condition that causes red patches and itching. In addition, they had higher levels of some immune system chemicals -- a sign of stronger immune system activation.
"Dogs are dirty animals, and this suggests that babies who have greater exposure to dirt and allergens have a stronger immune system," Gern says.

Of course, we also did all kinds of things back in the day that are frowned upon now. We have a precious home movie of me, about three years old, dashing over to a pile of rocks and sticking them in my mouth. With my mother hot on my heels to extract them.

In our neighborhood the kids all played in rain puddles (especially the ones with worms); we dug in the unsanitized, neighborhood dirt; we let ants and butterflies and fireflies crawl on us and we were all okay.

I believe that the human immune system is one of the "use it or lose it" things. Healthy people should give their bodies some challenges. We all know the "five-second rule" is bogus - but if the last cookie falls on the floor, I'm still going to eat it, unless one of the dogs beats me to it.

Dealing with Booker's "hairy eyeball"

This morning we're on tenterhooks. Booker, Fran's five-month-old Boston Terrier puppy is having surgery today to remove a growth (dermoid cyst) from his right eye.
Aside from being good fodder for jokes (Booker's quite literal "hairy eyeball"), there's nothing good or fun about it. From the stress of diagnosis, to finding a good specialty vet, to figuring out how to pay, to worrying about the procedure, the follow-up, and the long-term ramifications - it's all a source of stress. And it's one that every pet owner faces at some point.
So how do you find a good veterinarian? It takes some research, which is easier now than ever before. The internet makes it both simpler and more perplexing - after you've read umpteen dozen reviews of a particular veterinary hospital, what impression are you left with? Good, bad, more confused than when you started?
We've been going to the same veterinarian since before there was an internet. But I still remember how we found her - a friend whose opinion we trusted referred us - with glowing accolades. So we tried her and we liked her. And she listens to us. Which is increasingly rare and much appreciated. When we take one of our dogs in because "he's just not right" - she takes us seriously and works to find the source of the issue.
So the first resource for finding a good vet is to ask people you trust - people who take care of their pets the way you want to. People whose pets are healthy and happy.
If you have several to choose among, secondary considerations may be costs, hours, and distance. When you've made your decision, it may be a good idea to make an appointment and take your pet for a "wellness check." It's an opportunity to assess the facility, personnel, and the vet - before you and your pet are in urgent need.