Reality check

I am sad that Brisco died. I loved that dog. He was a part of the family. 

But he was a dog. 

It does not compare in any way, shape or form to losing a child. And those of you who think otherwise are simply wrong. If you don't have children you can't possibly understand. If you do have children and you are still making the comparison there is something really wrong. 

I actually am in a position to speak on this subject because I have experienced both losses in a span of 5 months.

I loved Brisco. He was an excellent pet. 

Maggie was my daughter. 

Brisco County Jr.

Brisco and Maggie are reunited. Brisco the wonder dog died last night. We lost him last night very suddenly and without warning. At 16 he was old, very old, so we knew he didn't have a whole lot of time left; but he was begging for steak from the table one second and down the next. He had a seizure that lasted for the entire 20 minutes it took to digest what was happening, load him into the car and get him to the emergency vet. We knew it was grim and the vet confirmed that. The whole thing was over in less than an hour.

We sadly returned home and sat back down at the table and reminisced. I noted that the mailmen, raccoons and skunks of the Richmond district were going to sleep a little better now. Brisco County Jr.,  the great watch dog, always with one ear up and the other down, was off duty.

There are too many stories to share but the way Brisco was with Maggie was the most amazing thing. Maggie was 4 years old when we got Brisco and she spent a lot of time on the floor in those days. (It took a long time before she could tolerate being in the wheelchair for long stretches and this was before her skillful dynavox days.) She could sort of move around on the floor, propelling herself on her side using her legs. She was like a swimmer without water. If my purse was on the floor she would get to it and fling everything hither and yon. Newspapers left behind were quickly shredded to bits. This picture is from 2008.

We quickly learned to pick things up to avoid the mischief.  But Brisco was always there. And Maggie would get to him - or he would just lie next to her - and the ear, tail and fur pulling would commence. Brisco just sat there and let her do whatever she wanted. If the boys were nearby and tried the same thing, Brisco would have none of it, but Maggie had free reign. This picture is probably from about 2000 or 2001.

Brisco was very protective of Maggie. When someone new entered the house Brisco would casually stand between the visitor and Maggie. If they stayed, he would lay down next to Maggie. He wasn't threatening in a teeth baring or growling kind of way; he was more like the dad of a teenage girl and the visitor was the hapless date.

Brisco was the fastest dog in the park up until he was 10 or 11. Then he wasn't interested in chasing other dogs, he just became something of an elder statesman -- unless Maggie was with us, then he was at her side. And when he was on leash, which wasn't very often until his hearing started to go, he would let Maggie yank and drop the leash and he would be so so patient. 

Brisco missed Maggie these last months. The night before she died when she had been taken by ambulance to the hospital, Brisco sat right in front of the door to her room as if standing guard over her in abstentia. He slept there for several nights. I finally moved his bed into the dining room right next to the door to her room. 

Now they are together again. He is young and healthy and fast, she is able bodied and verbal. Maggie is telling him how much she loved him, but he already knew. He's just happy to be with her again. 

Thanks Brisco. You were the greatest dog in the world and we were lucky to have you. A wonder dog for the ages. Take care of Mag for us. 

This old dog doesn't need any new tricks

Brisco the wonder dog turned 16 last Friday. Well at least that's the day we chose for his birthday.He arrived in our home in November 1998 and the vet said he was about 8 months old, so we just counted back 8 months and assigned a day.

We had another dog for just a couple of weeks before Brisco. We adopted a sweet but very skittish stray from a family who had found her a month or so earlier and could not find the owners. That dog, Maris, was scared to death of everything and sadly, slipped her collar and was hit by a car shortly after we adopted her. It was a sad day in our house. Very sad.

Then a few weeks later Steve hears of another stray looking for a home. Needless to say,  I was hesitant. I suggested we wait for the black could to move away before getting another dog, but Steve was insistent we "just look" at him. We took the kids out to Livermore where a lovely family had taken this stray in after finding him scrounging for food at a mall. They advertised everywhere that they had found this dog and even had him neutered. After three weeks they decided to find him a home. When the rescuer heard our sad story about Maris from a co worker, she called Steve directly.

They just called him "Puppy" becasue they knew they couldn't keep him. They had a 120 lb Chocolate lab named George who was very sweet and patient with this energetic husky mix puppy, but wasn't ready to have him become part of the household. And he was energetic, but very well trained. Someone had taken good care of this dog before he got lost.

The boys were 8 and 10 years old and they were on that dog in a minute. I was still hesitant but I knew it was a losing battle. He came home with us that day. We named him Brisco after our favorite (but I believe already cancelled ) TV character, Brisco County Jr. In fact that's his full name, but we really only use it when he's in trouble.

 I told Steve, "Ok, but if this dog isn't good with Maggie he's GONE." and I meant it. Maggie was 4 and spent most of her time laying on the floor in those days. There was no way I was gong to tolerate any problems with the dog and Maggie.

I needn't have worried. Brisco was the best dog from day one. In fact, he was so good with Maggie that he quickly became her protector. When someone new came into the house, friends of the boys or therapists for Maggie etc, Brisco would station himself between Maggie and the new person. He wasn't threatening, just vigilant. If for some reason he didn't like the way this person approached Maggie, which happened occasionally, he would bark and keep them back until we gave the all clear. We didn't teach him that, he just did it on his own.

He would lie on the floor next to Maggie. She would poke his face and pull on his ears and he was so gentle with her; but he would play and rough house with the boys. We walked all over and he never needed to be on leash because he just explored and then came running back to us. But we did put him on a leash and let Maggie hold the other end and he never pulled like he did with us. (Picture at top)

 We always threatened to dress him up like a reindeer pulling Maggie's wheelchair/sled at Christmastime, but we never did it.  He played nicely with other dogs and was great with people. Well, except mailmen and UPS guys. Never much cared for men approaching our house. Handymen and husbands of nurses were also suspect. He barked at anyone who walked by our house and the entire neighborhood knew when the mail man was on the block.

One foggy night he barked and barked waking us up to tell us that there was a problem. And he was right. Our sweet elderly neighbor had wandered out of her house in her nightgown and had fallen and injured herself very badly in front of our house at 2AM. Without Brisco to wake us, she may not have survived that cold night. Her family gave him a giant bag of dog treats after that. Later he fought raccoons, and always lost.

Now he's a great old dog that rarely barks -- mostly becasue he has no clue whats going on around him. . He can't hear at all and doesn't see all that well. He is pretty agile for his age, but watching him go up and down steps is painful. He falls over periodically as his back legs don't always go where he thinks they are going to go. He doesn't care for walks anymore - if you get past the end of the block he wants to go home. He has been on a leash for the past year or so as his hearing failed and he gets panicky when he can't find us.

The night we lost Maggie he just laid at the door of her room, knowing somehow that everything was different. He made all of us feel a little better that night and many others.

So now he's 16. That's very old for any dog. He is a wonderful part of the family and we are lucky that nice family found him and then found us. Steve was right to insist we "just look" at him back in 1998.

Happy Birthday, old man.

Bobble Head redux.

I hate being right all the time.

Maggie's wheelchair repair took place Friday. I dragged her down there in the rain because they told me  it was imperative that she be there. They didn't need her at all. Arrgh. Most of the pieces they ordered either weren't there or wouldn't work with the configuration of the chair. Arrgh. I sent a rather pointed email to the therapists and their supervisor.

Nothing was ordered regarding the ongoing problems with the headrest. I told the guy it was going to break and he said "no it's fine."  It was fine, for 48 hours. Guess what broke this morning? AAARRGH. Right now she is stuck. We cannot go anywhere with the chair like this. It is unsafe and extremely uncomfortable. Steve is going to try to cobble something together so Maggie can go out this morning or at least go to school tomorrow.

Other that that, though, the weekend was great.

Poor Brisco cannot get used to the cone on his head and is constantly knocking into things. He tried to fit between the front seats in the van while I was driving yesterday and changed the radio station with his cone. He also hasn't quite figured out that when he ear itches it doesn't do him any good to scratch. We have been awakened to the sound of his claw on the plastic cone scratching furiously. It's hilarious.

Maybe we should try that cone on Maggie. That way when the headrest snaps she won't get hurt.

I better watch out what I joke about - that will be the next suggestion.

Logistics

The logistics of my life and very involved. A simple thing requires many steps and considerations before it an happen. Today is a good example.

Poor Brisco, the wonder dog, is injured. We didn't know what was wrong but he started limping over the weekend and by Monday morning it was clear something was VERY wrong. Steve took him to the vet and she discovered a deep and infected puncture wound on his upper leg, wiht a large abcess. He is recovering now, but we have to medicate him and irrigate this nasty wound a couple of times a day. Brisco is relegate to the cone of shame while he recovers.

Today is his follow up appointment. They want to make sure it is healing correctly and, if not, they will have to put a drain in to clear out the infection.  I think it is doing well but I have to take him to make certain. I don't think I have the wherewithal to handle surgery for the DOG.

The appointment is at 1:30. Any other day that would be perfect timing. Maggie gets home around 3 and her nurse arrives just ahead of that to get everything prepared. Except Wednesday Maggie gets out of school early. She generally arrives just before 1:30 and her nurse gets her at 1:00. Except today I told the nurse to come at 2:00PM because I have to go to a wake tonight for Steve's Uncle Tony who passed away last week. I'm not positive I could be back here for the nurse to go home at 9:00 so I'm having her come 2:00 to 10:00.

Maggie could come with me to the vet. It's just a few blocks away. There's just one step up to the entrance and I could probably get the wheel chair in there with very little problem. Probably. But the office is set up in this strange configuration and one exits through a narrow hallway that would be problematic. Not insurmountable, but problematic.

I don't need problematic.

 It's supposed to rain all day, it was hailing a few minutes ago. There is no parking near the vet. If I don't take Maggie I can just walk down there in the rain, but I can't do that with her. I would have a hard time explaining to the pulmonologist that she's sick again because we went for a walk in a hailstorm.

I can make this easier.  I don't want to worry about anything else.  One call to the vet and the appointment is changed to 4:30. Maggie will be here with her nurse and I can dash out with the dog for 30 minutes.

Perfect.  It's so simple.

(Looking at his) Watch dog

As soon as I get up in the morning, I begin my ritual of getting Maggie out the door to meet the bus. This morning was no exception. I talked with the nurse about how the night went as I unplugged the charging Dynavox and suction Machine and loaded them onto the chair. I filled the portable oxygen tank and put that on the chair as well.  The chair tipped from the weight because Maggie was not in it yet. I rearranged things to make it safer.

Maggie was already to go. Her jacket was on but she was still in bed. The nurse cannot lift her so I do it. I get everything else ready before I put Maggie in the chair. Not sure why, it is just my routine.

I was more efficient than usual because I had 10 minutes to spare.  Nice. I sat down at the computer. Mistake.  In the blink of an eye, it was late.

Janice, the school nurse was already parked in the driveway. I told the night nurse, who was leaving, to tell Janice we were coming. I quickly grabbed Maggie and fastened all seven buckles to secure her in the wheelchair, tied a scarf around her neck, ran a brush through her hair attached the tray and pole and headed toward the elevator.

It is a very slow ride down. No one can see us because the elevator is in the back of the house (it goes from the back deck to the backyard); but I was not worried, I knew they would not leave without us because Janice knew we were en route.

I knew that. Brisco did not. Our 12-year-old dog does not like any deviation from the routine. This was unacceptable. He was pacing back and forth at the top of the elevator whimpering and then ran down the stairs and stared at us through the glass doors of the elevator until we made it to the bottom. I knew from his actions that the bus must be outside.

Generally I get down to the basement/garage bring Maggie through. Open the garage door, fill up the dogs bowl and bring her outside.  Today I rushed through the garage, hit the button to open the door and pushed her outside to the waiting bus. Brisco stood next to his bowl apoplectic. He was barking up a storm as if to say Wait! Wait! Wait! You forgot a step. I said Brisk – you just have to wait a MINUTE. 

Janice did her check to make sure she had all the necessary equipment and that it was all working properly. Brisco kept barking. Maggie’s hood pulled back a little and I realized I never brushed the back of her head. Oops. Janice will take care of that at school.  Brisco kept barking.  The driver loaded her onto the bus with Brisco barking the entire time.

I am certain my neighbors who don’t work 9-5 were extremely appreciative of the commotion and the barking dog at 7:15. The bus left. I went in an immediately fed the dog. He looked at the food, but he was not really interested in eating. He just needs me to stick to the routine. 

Great. That's what I need. Someone else to answer to.  

Dog gone it

Something someone said about allergies brought this story to mind:

A few years ago, Maggie was in the hospital for one of those long stretches – maybe three weeks. Those are hard on Maggie, of course, but they are also tough on the entire family. Out home life is completely disrupted because I stay with Maggie the entire time. The boys, who were still at home had to adjust to a house without mom and generally without dad too. Steve came home to sleep and usually fed the boys, but between work and the hospital, he was not at home very much.


Of course, the boys worried about Maggie, but these hospitalizations had become routine for all of us. There were certainly times Maggie was in grave danger, but we only told the boys when it was absolutely necessary. We did not want to alarm them prematurely or (God willing) unnecessarily.

They spent a fair amount of time visiting in the hospital as well. On one visit, Eddie was laying at the foot of Maggie’s bed reading a magazine when the young resident came in with some results of an allergy test. Maggie has multiple food and medication allergies, which we already knew about, but this was the test for allergens in the environment. Turns out she has a lot of those too. Cats, dogs, mice, dust etc

Her allergy numbers for dogs was really high,.(And yes we had a dog then and still do.)The young doctor, being very thoughtful, did not want to say this in front of Maggie’s brother. Rather than give the information directly, he just cited the numbers allowing us to draw our own conclusions. Presumably he figured Eddie wasn’t paying sufficient attention or wasn’t going to catch the gist of what he was saying. What he didn’t realize is that my boys spend a lot of time in hospitals and can understand doctor speak very well.

Eddie whipped his head around and said, “Maggie’s allergic to dogs??!!??”

The resident looked very uncomfortable to be part of this moment when a kid learned that his sick sister might mean we had to get rid of the dog..

I said to Eddie evenly, “looks like she is”

Eddie went right back to his magazine and said “Then Maggie’s going to have to move”

I just laughed. It was never really an issue. We use life as a measure, not just a test result. We have to or Maggie would live in a bubble. Maggie had peacefully coexisted with the dog since she was about three years old. Having this test result information was not going to change anything. Eddie knew that, I knew that, even Maggie knew that, but that kind young doctor looked very confused.

enjoy this, you must

The long weekend is winding down. It was quiet, and rainy - especially Monday. Monday was ridiculous. I had to cancel a planned outing with one of Maggies' friends. It seemed irresponsible to take out two girls with fragile health condition in the middle of a deluge.


On Saturday we took Maggie to the Presidio and walked around the park that is part of the Letterman Digital Arts "Campus". It is lovely. It's hard to believe there was once a military hospital on this site. Now it's lush and elegant and very wheelchair friendly. It overlooks the Palace of Fine arts, which you can see in this picture.

Brisco, the wonder dog is not thrilled with it because they enforce the leash rules and he prefers to be free. He's always a mellow dog (except when the mailman is anywhere on the block), but he behaves extremely well when Maggie's holding the leash.

The Letterman Digital Arts center is part of George Lucas' empire. The buildings have the coolest stuff from various movies. We can't go inside, but you can see alot of cool stuff from the windows.

Or you can just hang out by the Yoda fountain and drink in his wisdom.

Glad we did this before the storm hit. Yoda's fountain may be overflowing by the time this is all over.

What to my wondering eyes....

I arose at the usual hour this morning so the nurse could go home. She wasn't quite done with her paperwork, so I padded to the front door to get the newspaper. As I reached to get it I figured should take down the giant Christmas Stocking that was adorning our front door. The rest of the decorations will come down this weekend, but I am rounding up some of the extraneous ones so I don't forget to put them in the box(es) when we pack it all away.

As I reached for the stocking I hesitated. Why....there was something in there! It was a pound of Sees Candy. (For those of you who don't have Sees, I am sorry for you. It is delish). The box was wrapped in the distinctive Sees Christmas wrap and just sitting there outside in the cold. I grabbed it and went inside. No card. Just a happy red box of assorted chocolate-y goodness.

It was a lovely surprise. As soon as I open it, it will be gone in a WHOOOSH! (too late just did and took my favorite...hehehhehehe)

How long was it sitting there? Since Christmas? Doubtful. Someone here would have noticed it or, if not, some passer by would have snagged it. Could it have been there when I came home last night and I just didn't notice? Possible. Is that why the dog was going crazy after I came in last night? I don't think so because I was sitting on the couch and can see the front steps and would have seen someone place it there.

My suspicion is that it came this morning from Peter, the guy who delivers the newspaper. He has been delivering our paper for years. Every year he puts a Christmas card in the paper with a self addressed envelope in case someone might want to tip him. Every year I put it aside with the best of intentions to do just that. Then I find it when I'm cleaning everything up and figure it's too late. Not this year. On Sunday I waited for him to arrive (Sunday paper is later) and I actually handed him the card with a decent tip - nothing extravagant, mind you, but I've missed a lot of years. He certainly didn't have to buy me any candy.

We had a nice chat when I gave him the card,just as we used to every morning when he delivered the paper at the same time as Maggie's bus arrived. He actually asked me if we still had a dog. I laughed and said, yes, but he sleeps through your deliveries now. Brisco used to go nuts whenever that guy was anywhere near the house, but he's old and lazy and gave up on barking at Peter. (When he gives up on the mail carriers, UPS and the oxygen guy I'll know he's over the hill).

He's a nice guy and I miss our morning hello now that he's delivering earlier. However, if he's willing to drop a box of See's now and then, I could get over missing the hellos.

In the event my suspeicions are incorrect, and the came from someone else who happens to be reading this, thank you. Whoever did it completely made my day.

Nonetheless, I meant everything I said about Peter, but if it wasn't him I 'm going to suggest he get that Sunday paper here earlier.

Clean the what, now?

Brisco is the family dog. He is 11 and may be the greatest dog in the world. Happily, Brisco the wonder dog is better. I don't think he posted about his problem, but it is resolved.

He had a rather delicate problem. I believe the official diagnosis was ruptured anal gland. (YEOWCH!) I didn't run right to the vet. This dog never has any medical problems. Other than his shots, I think he's only been to the vet three times in his life, I considered whether or not this was a problem for a day or so. The dog was acting fine, but I was not comfortable with things so in we went. It was probably already getting better by the time I took him in , but I had to be sure.

It was not an emergency visit, yet it still cost $395 (ZOMG!) The office visit was a mere $53, the blood tests (all negative) were $190 and the medicine was and other $130+. As I paid the woman at the desk she asked if I wanted to make a donation for the shelter upstairs. I smiled and said, "I think I just did."

The pharmacy tech instructed me how to give the anti-biotics. Then she gave me a small vial of a blue liquid and instructed me to dilute it 10X with water and then gently spray the "anal area" a few times a day and then wipe it to keep it clean.

I'm sorry, spray the what? where?

This 1 oz magic bottle of blue butt relief cost $23. My husband was sure it was windex. (He may be right)

As I drove home from the vet with a sad dog, and an empty wallet I carefully considered the situation.

It is not often that I feel overwhelmed by my situation, but at that moment I did. I said to the Heavens: "You know, I have a 15 year old daughter whose diaper I have to change 8-10 times a day and I'm OK with that.. I don't complain about that. It's part of the deal, I get that. But I have to draw the line at the dog."

I stood my ground. The magic blue butt relief sits on the counter. It was never opened. Brisco recovered

I'm willing to re-sell it cheap. Even if you don't have the same problem, your windows will sparkle.

Looking back

I stopped at the Post office today and ran back to the car just in time to avoid (another) parking ticket. As I started the car, I realized I was in the very same parking place where I had another car issue several years ago. Remembering it today made me laugh as I was driving home.

A few years back I went into in the post office with Maggie. Brisco (the wonder dog) was with us and waited for us in the car. We were gone only a few minutes but when we returned I could not get the wheelchair lift to open on the van. It did not make any sense; we had just left it 3 minutes before. I tried every trick I knew, but the thing was stuck and there was no way we were going to get that chair back into the car.

Fortunately, the post office is not far from home, it is maybe ½ to ¾ of a mile northeast of here. If one walks west and then south, it is virtually flat so it is an easy walk. However, if one walks south and then west one has to head up a very steep hill. In fact, “Lone Mountain” college (now part of the University of San Francisco) is just up that hill. The name ought to give you a clue about the quick elevation change.

I did not have a leash for the dog, but he is very good off leash and that did not concern me. Even if a cop approached me for violating the leash law (which has NEVER happened), I was pretty sure my tale of woe and my daughter in the wheelchair would prevent a ticket.

We were parked just East of the post office, so we had to walk by it to access the flat route home. Of course, it is a POST OFFICE and there are several uniformed letter carriers milling about. Brisco is perhaps the greatest dog alive, but he is a dog. And he dislikes letter carriers. And I still did not have a leash.

We had no choice but to head up the very steep hill. I have to tell you pushing a wheelchair up a steep hill is not easy; in fact, the only thing harder is trying to control it going down a steep hill. And this hill has a rapid (steep) vertical rise. I was pushing at about a 45-degree angle with my arms stretched out above my head. We were a sight, I tell you. My cell phone rang but there was no way I could let go of the chair to answer it. When we arrived at the top, I was completely out of breath. Maggie was laughing and Brisco was wagging his tail because the park was now in sight. I checked the phone and it was Steve just checking in.

I called him back and told him my sad, but ridiculous, story. He was asking a million questions about the problem with the car but I could not answer any of them. I did not know what was wrong and I had other things to deal with because just then it started to rain. Not too much, but it was the huge drops warning of an impending downpour. Now Maggie was laughing so hard she was hardly breathing. Brisco was still eying the park and I was calculating how fast we could get home. We made it without any more drama.

When the nurse arrived I walked back to the car to figure out what was wrong and what to do about it. Brisco came with me – this time on the leash. As soon as I arrived, I saw that the lift was wedged behind the front seat, which for some reason was slightly reclined. It took me about 10 seconds to fix it.

A frustrating day, but a fun memory.

Jurisdiction

Brisco is our 10-year-old husky mix mutt. We named him Brisco after the title character in Brisco County Junior, a short lived (but great) television show. In fact, his full name is Brisco County Jr., but we only call him that when he is in trouble, which is almost never. He is very likely the greatest dog on earth.

We have had him since he was a 6 month old stray foraging for food in a shopping center garbage bin. The good people who found him took him in and looked for the owners for a couple of weeks. The search was not successful. The shopping center was near a freeway, so it is possible Brisco wandered away at a stop and the owners did not realize it until they were farther down the road. I wonder sometimes about the people who lost him. Brisco had been well cared for; he was well trained and easy going from the start. They must have been sad.

In all honesty, I was reluctant to adopt Brisco. We had another dog for just a month or so. Maris, the first dog, was also a stray, but likely had not been treated as well as Brisco. She was skittish and never comfortable with us. She ran into a busy street and was hit by a car that never stopped. This occurred right in front of my older son who was chasing her. My son was about nine years old at the time. Both boys were so hurt, and my older son so traumatized when Maris died, I didn’t think I could handle that again. Steve was of the mind that another dog would help them recover. I relented. Steve was right.

I was afraid to get too close to this new dog. My heart was broken by the death of the first dog and my helplessness to comfort the boys. I kept fences up to protect myself. One condition was if Brisco wasn’t good with Maggie, he was gone. Maggie was four years old then and was not yet comfortable spending a lot of time in her wheelchair. She spent a lot of time on the floor in the living room and if the dog was going to bother her, he was gone. Everyone agreed. That was 10 years ago. The fences fell down a long time ago.

Right from the beginning, Brisco was Maggie’s protector and friend. He would lie next to her, she could pull his ears, his tail or any other part, and he would sit quietly. If the boys even tried the same thing, Brisco would never stand for it. He “got” Maggie right away. Whenever someone else would come into the house, he would automatically position himself between him or her and Maggie until he determined they were ok. Never bit anyone, and never even really barked at anyone in the house. (Coming up the stairs was and is a different story). He would just sort of check them out before he would let them near Maggie.

He is still very patient with her, though these days she is in her wheel chair more than on the floor. She calls him on her talker and he comes over and licks her hands. She laughs and he lies down and goes to sleep. He patrols through Maggie’s room, checks up on the nurse, and just keeps an eye out. He is good to the nurses and vice versa. When the nurses are with Maggie, in her room, they can do anything and Brisco is cool with it.

HOWEVER, on the rare moments that the nurse brings Maggie into the living room, Brisco does not want them fussing with Maggie. The living room is his jurisdiction. No one (outside the family) messes with her in his territory. He does not bite or growl, but he does bark, pace and generally communicates his displeasure very clearly. This is ESPECIALLY true if Maggie is on the floor. Brisco is in charge.

You wanna mess with her here; you better have a warrant.