Sunday, December 21, 2008
I keep telling myself I could just move in and live out of cardboard boxes for months, but I'd still have to decorate, this time with dogs. Decorating With Dogs -someone should write a book. It's hard to keep greyhounds and paint apart, so I have to get as much done as I can.
If I don't get as far as a Christmas message, Merry Christmas!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
On the plus side, the big scarey parking attendant in our local market town came over to greet the dogs, and ruffle their ears. He lost his own Great Dane a couple of weeks back, dilated cardiomyopathy - one week his dog developed a cough, and by the end of the week, despite drugs, her heart gave out. He can't face having another just yet, but likes to borrow other dogs for 10 seconds. I didn't give him the "You need a greyhound" speech, the grief was obviously still raw in his voice, but... he needs another dog.
Sunday, December 07, 2008
The dogs are not happy, though, and have both skidded onto their not-so-well-padded behinds. (I've gone over on mine a few times, but I've got the cushioning to survive!) The sharper pieces of ice hurt their feet, and at one point we found a load of blood on the ice - I think someone else's dog may have cut a pad. Either that, or there's been a murder at the roadside, and when the snow melts, there'll be a body under a pile of snow. Or maybe the snowman in the garden on the corner wasn't made by kids, but by the murderer concealing the evidence... I've been trapped indoors too long with only a pile of old Agatha Christies for company.
A friend once said she couldn't live in the country in case she turned into Miss Marple, and I though, Too late, I've already turned. But even if the neighbours have all murdered each other, I'm not going out to investigate until some of this ice has melted.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
I am about to go back to work for a rest. I'll miss the dogs though - Holly has been much more cheerful with her human at home. If I had the money to stay home all day, I would.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Now they're both sleeping it off. If the snow lasts till this afternoon, I'll take some pictures. In the meantime, it's preventing me from going to Homebase for paint, so we're having a quiet day in. I got the keys to the new house yesterday, and I've taken this coming week off work to do some decorating, consult with builders, and all the routine tasks that you can't do from the office. It's unfortunate that the new house is well off even a secondary gritter route, but this snow isn't scheduled to last.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
I called the vets, crying, and they said to bring him right in. I've always known that secondary tumours would develop, and lung tumours are high on the list of probabilities. The new junior vet (they're the ones who have to work weekends) listened to Herbie's chest, took his temperature, then said "There are a lot of respiratory infections around at the moment. Let's try antibiotics first, rather than go for a chest x-ray."
Twenty-four hours later, Herbie's breathing is fine, he is bright and lively, and wants all his meals and everyone else's meals too. Yesterday I was so convinced that I was taking him on his last trip ever, that now I feel silly. We have to go back to the vets tomorrow for a check-up, nd I'm going to have to apologise for crying all over their nice clean surgery.
PS A big hello to Jenna and her blog - hope the treatment goes well!
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Anyway, I'm hoping this is the end of the explosions, now we've had the 5th and the weekends either side. On the plus side, I've exchanged contracts on the new hovel, so only another couple of weeks, and I can start decorating. The ghastly green in the kitchen will be the first to go, then the green stripes in the hall. Then there's the navy blue wallpaper in the bedroom to strip, and... endless hours of joy.
Enough of my news, there are more important events in the world. Yes, THOSE elections, but equally greyhound racing has been banned in Massachusetts. Wish our legislators would follow suit.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
There were a few fireworks last night, but I think the credit crunch has cut down on the number of huge exploding rockets. Everything seemed more restrained this year. Good job, as Holly refused to touch the drinking water with Rescue Remedy in. Herbie panted a bit, but he survived. There'll be a few more on the 5th, but the main public displays are over. Sighs of relief.
However, Hallowe'en claimed one greyhound, Magic alias Meg from Greyhound Gap. She ran away in the New Forest last Friday, and people from all over the country went to look for her. I'd hoped she was living rough, and would find her way home, but it wasn't to be. On Friday her body was found. Rest in peace, Meg. Not forgotten.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Herbie seems to be slowing down and sleeping more. He still wants to go for walks (we saw a double rainbow this afternoon) but I get the impression he's trying to conserve energy.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
He is moulting, patchily, about two months later than Holly. I don't know if cancer has thrown out his internal clock, but he is looking a bit motheaten round the rear.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Herbie and Holly came in the car to visit my sister, and were baffled to see a cat on her windowsill. Herbie kept looking from the cat to me to her, as if to say "Does she know there's a cat in her house? How did that get in there?" Yes, Herbie, she knows all about Solly, she put him there on purpose. It's a bit tricky, because Holly isn't cat-safe, and never will be.
Glorious sunshine today, crunchy autumn leaves and T-shirt weather. The world economy may have gone south, but at least it's a nice day...
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
This is Solly, my sister's Maine Coon kitten, supervising gardening operations.
It's been a difficult week for dogs. Herbie threw up several times on Monday night, then wouldn't eat for a couple of days. I thought this might be the beginning of the end, but he's eating again. He seems more frail, though. He doesn't have the reserves any more to fight off stomach bugs. I was beside myself with worry, but he pulled through this time. I'm not sure we can get through another bout.
The house thing plods on, as these things do. The HIPs pack isn't acceptable to the bank, so searches have to be done over again. I genuinely don't see the point of the buyer and seller each having to do the same work, but someone somewhere will be making money out of it. I'm hoping we can sort everything out for the end of October.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Herbie's nodes are somehow even bigger, and Holly seems to be going bald. She always sheds a lot in autumn, but this year her legs are looking bare. More sardines all round.
I've had the survey back on the house. It needs a lot doing, but it's mostly structurally sound. I say "mostly", but that really means "fixable at a price". Hmmm. But it's on top of a hill, so it won't flood.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Then there's cats that look like Hitler...
Yup, I'm distracting myself. I think I've found a new house, but worries are creeping in. Anyone know of any other displacement activities I could take up? (Ive already washed, vacuumed and ironed, I'm houseworked out now.)
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Once I've pinned him down, I then have to squirt CleanAural into his ears (or "Nettoyant Auriculaire pour Chien" in case I ever have to ask for it in France) and duck as he shakes his head, and coats me with whatever's in his ears. Then I add some oozing yellow antibiotic drops, and have to massage them in. I think the vet was quite impressed with how much he fought the pair of us at the surgery. "He's still quite strong, isn't he?" Yup.
And smart. There's no bribing him, no distracting with pieces of cheese, no hiding little plastic bottles of ear-drops in my pocket and sneaking up on him from behind. I've had to resort to brute force, and I'm not proud of myself. His ears are much better, though, and I'm counting the days till Tuesday, when I can stop putting us both through this.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
On the plus side, I have a permanent job with effect from tomorrow. Salary not great, but a step in the right direction after a year and a bit living off the proceeds of selling my house. This means I might be able to buy another house, instead of living/camping out in a family member's renovation project. I am immensely lucky to have such a generous family, but there are times when I'd like not to owe anyone anything, you know? So I've been looking at tiny houses online this week, and thinking: hmm. Deep breath. It's going to be OK.
Herbie is slowing up. He still dragged out Henry Kitten's (RIP) toy chicken from under the furniture at my father's, for a good shake, but I can see him pondering whether to race Holly to the far corner of the lawn, and deciding not to. One day at a time.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
I also received my copy of Dog Anatomy, by Peter Goody, that I'd ordered from Amazon, and can now be quite sure that Herbie's bulging bottom rib on his left side is due to his spleen. The ultrasound (way back in the mists of time) picked up that he had an enlarged spleen - and he still has. (For anyone squeamish, who doesn't want to see pictures of an enlarged spleen, don't look here.)
Herbie could show veterinary students where the lymph nodes are - every major node is lumpy. I wish he wasn't quite so educational.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Herbie was in poor shape - he'd been found on the roof of some sheds on an industrial estate, 12 feet up, unable to jump down. He'd been left on a sheet-metal roof, so he had third degree burns on all four feet, he was dehydrated, and close to death. He wasn't supposed to have survived, but somehow he did. I realise now he had an incredible will to live, and I'm seeing it for myself every day. He was skinny when found, six kilos under his racing weight (which is already light) and minus a lot of his fur. His foster parents warned me he might always have a bald bum.
Now old Fuzzybum is on my bed, after a large meal and a gentle potter in the sunshine. The bad days left their legacy and it seems particularly cruel that he won't live to be the oldest greyhound in the world. But I'm glad we had these four years.
Monday, August 04, 2008
I hate being away from Herbie for a day, when I'm already at work during the week, but my sister came and dog-sat, and fed them her left-over moussaka and gave long ear scritches. I hope I learned something that can help Herbie.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
I used to love hot weather, but having dogs changed that. It changes so many things, and that's only a minor one. We've all been sitting on the concrete driveway, in the shade of the house, where the concrete is cool. The neighbours must think I'm mad, but there's no breeze in the back garden, surrounded by high fences and bushes.
Work is going to be grim tomorrow - no air-con, very little ventilation - I'm dreading it. I can't be the only one contemplating a rain-dance.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
But Herbie is unrepentant.
I am tired. I went to London yesterday, for a friend's wedding, and three separate tube lines were closed for maintenance. King's Cross resembled a scene from a disaster movie. I think I've done cities for this year.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Sunday, July 06, 2008
I started this blog when I hated my old job, and realised that all I really wanted in life was to be At Home With Herbie. Economically, however, if that home is to be something with walls and a roof, and not a caravan, I can't stay home for ever. ( Though I've been looking at ruins in Portugal, thinking, I could learn Portuguese, and roof-tiling, and plumbing, and...)
Still, if it comes to people putting their brave pants on, I could learn a lesson or two from the latest fund-raising effort at Greyhound Gap - spending a night in the horribly haunted Derby Gaol. If they can face their worst fears, maybe it's time to face mine (not having indoor plumbing or heating for any length of time). There are worse things in life than a composting toilet. (The ones at Aysgarth Falls in the Yorkshire Dales have a warning on one door: Extra Wide Seat - Children May Need Supervision. I guess someone found that out the hard way.)
Sunday, June 29, 2008
A moment of misunderstanding with a friend. I was explaining to her that my father visited at lunchtimes, and would take the dogs for a walk if they wanted to go. "Oh," she said, "is he mobile?" "Yes," I said, "he's only 72, he can still get about fine." Laughter at the other end. "Herbie, I meant." Yes, he's still mobile. It may not seem that way from photos, since they almost all show him lying down (normal position for greyhounds) but Herbie does actually manage a couple of 45-minute walks a day.
He's a bit saggy from the prednisone - seen from above, he's wasp-waisted - and he's got the equivalent of a squashed tennis ball under his jaw. Which is why I asked the Harry Edwards sanctuary to send him healing. It's not as if anything else is working now.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
I won some dog treats and a dog frisbee in their tombola, and we managed (just) not to be rained on, so it was a good afternoon. The thing that always makes me sad about lurchers and greyhounds in rescues is that they have such thin, pipe-cleaner-y tails. Once they've been in a home for a while, their tails build up muscles from wagging. You can see immediately if a sighthound has had much of a life.
Herbie picked up remarkably on Monday, with the cooler weather, and ran away when I tried to take him to the vets. He's done this before, and I need to learn to distinguish between "I'm hot, leave me alone" and "I'm dying here". In Terry Pratchett's novels, one of the three witches was found lying with a sign pinned to her chest saying "I ATEN'T DEAD" (for when she'd gone on her mental travels, borrowing animals' minds), and if Herbie could write I'm sure he'd have something similar. Though possibly better spelled - he's a fastidious dog.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Monday, June 02, 2008
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Huge scare from Holly on Friday night, when she chased a rabbit and overheated. She staggered back to me, then keeled over. It was a muggy, humid evening, warm even at half past seven, and we were a mile from the road. She just lay in a patch of ground elder, her tongue hanging onto the ground, her breath rasping. I carried her back to the road (with some difficulty, and many stops for breath) at which point she decided she could plod the last 200 yards home. It's taught me not to let her off lead in hot weather. She has no internal "hmm, best not, eh?" mechanism to tell her to slow down.
So, still here, but I'm worried about Emily over at Life with the Dogs...
Monday, May 26, 2008
The vet suggested Vaseline on his nose, and I've added de-odorised garlic capsules to his diet. Someone had a miracle sinus cure with their whippet and garlic capsules, but I've no idea how much to give a Herbie-sized dog. Is 1000mg a day a lot? Well, he's still here, still snotty, so it's not a lethal dose. I am glad he's still with me, and glad his histiocytoma's cleared up, but I wish he were well.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
It's been a sad weekend. My father's cat, Henry Kitten (he never grew very big) went AWOL during the week. He was of feral stock, and was rounded up along with his mother by the Cats Protection League at a local feed mill, as part of a trap-neuter-release programme. When he didn't come back home on Sunday, we all feared he'd heard the call of the wild and answered it. Yesterday, coming back from an outing with the dogs, I spotted a black body on the verge, a couple of hundred yards from my father's house. I went to fetch Dad, and it looks very much like Henry. Unfortunately he looks to have hit a car head-on.
Then (big mistake) I read the last chapters of Merle's Door, by Ted Kerasote. It's a wonderful book, about a man who tries to put himself in his dog's shoes, and let his dog have some choices about the way he lives. The two of them lived in a national park, and spent their days out in the wilderness - but the ending is a three-hanky job.
As a result, I've spent today fussing over Herbie. First, I thought I'd found a new tumour in his stomach - I'd actually found the end of one of his ribs. They're all knobbly at the end, and so are Holly's - it's nothing new. Then I went to clean his ears out, and found that they were black inside. Not just dark brown wax, but deep charcoal black. I wondered if this was one of those symptoms of cancer that no one talks about, because it's too much of a bad sign. Maybe his brain was starting to rot and leaking out through his ears.
Then I remembered I'd repotted a few plants yesterday, and put the spent compost on one of the flowerbeds. Herbie had had a really good dig, and redistributed it all. When greyhounds fold their ears back, the ear canal is wide open. He didn't have a brain tumour, he had compost in his ears. Only person with a leaking brain round here is me. Very glad I didn't call the vet.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Lots of outside time, but the garden is south-facing, and just too hot in the afternoon. Herbie doesn't deal well with heat, so he's back in his usual spot, on my bed.
Big things are happening over at Emily and Maggie's - Maggie is taking part in a trial of a new drug. Here's hoping this one turns out to be more effective than some of the other things I know Maggie's tried.
Oh, and Holly's just told me she never gets in the blog:
Monday, May 05, 2008
Herbie has had his first trip to the vet in over four months. He has a histiocytoma on his leg. He had one a couple of years ago, and I didn't think you could get them twice, but those good folks on Greytalk have assured me that lighting does strike more than once . The vet was pleased with how well he was looking. "I was dreading this visit, when I saw your name on the list. I thought it was going to be one of those difficult ones. But he's kept the weight on really well." I think that might be code for "Your dog is fat".
There was an elderly man in the waiting room, dogless, trying not to cry, and when he collected his drooping, bleary-eyed dachshund, I could see why. Daxis aren't supposed to be floppy like that. I wanted him and his dog to be OK, but you could tell the vet had said "There's nothing else we can do." It's the worst thing, not having any hope. I am currently hoping Herbie outlives his histiocytoma - they take at least six weeks to clear up - but I have absolutely nothing to base that optimism on.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Oh, and I meant to mention this article last week: a Radio 4 newsreader has a rare type of lymphoma. It's odd, his first symptoms were the same as Herbie's - a perpetually snotty nose. With Herbie, it wasn't until he started chemo that it went away. Now it's back, but I know it's not a cold, it's part of the lymphoma territory.
The other interesting thing was the man getting odd sensations in his fingers and toes. Herbie's been stumbling occasionally, always the back left foot, for no apparent reason. He'll be trotting along happily, then just miss a beat. After reading the article, I realise it's part of the illness too. The things you learn. That you never intended to know about.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
He's had some tinned salmon, and a new toy. This morning, the gods of dog-birthdays produced a black and white cat that ran straight towards him instead of away. Herbie sprang to life, the cat realised his mistake and shinned up the nearest tree, and Herbie stood under the tree, wagging his tail, delighted that he almost got a cat for his birthday.
Incidentally, apologies for the time-lag in moderating comments, and I think I accidentally deleted a couple - I've been spammed by some "Make $$$ at home" blogger, or bloggers, who are so desperate for links they're posting spam comments, or whatever the correct terminology is. The only way to keep them out seems to be to set the comments field to "Moderate". I may go back to instant commenting later, once the splogs have gone away :-)
I must post more often - the trouble with these job things is, they suck all your time away. I haven't forgotten everyone, I'm just scrabbling for time to log on.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Herbie's nodes are huge, and I keep asking myself, how can he survive? The oncologist warned me this would happen, but he said timings are anyone's guess. I've just found out about Cole, and my thoughts are with her family at this sad time.
Monday, April 07, 2008
The new job seems fine, the people are lovely, so fingers crossed.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Dogs Today magazine has just published a two-page rant about greyhounds, illustrated with a drawing of a young boy saying "Daddy, what's a greyhound?" The article advocates treating all greyhounds as livestock, and then wiping the breed out, because they are apparently the biggest killers of other animals in the known universe, and their mere presence on this earth offends the writer of the article. Even the tabloid press, writing of children killed by Rottweilers, haven't called for all Rottweilers to be euthanased, but only to be kept under control. It's therefore particularly alarming to see a vet, who in theory should be able to keep a clear head, calling for a breed to be wiped out just because she's had a bad day at the office.
The editor of the magazine has been swift to disown the vet's views, and says she didn't read the article before it went to print. Oh-kayyy. Nice to see responsible journalism is alive and well... any chance of the magazine trying to undo any of the damage it's just caused? The irony is, the first half of the magazine is full of the plight of Staffies, abandoned in their thousands for being a bull breed, the victim of media scare stories.
OK, I'm going to take a lot of deep breaths now, and try and take up some form of meditation.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Leaping ahead on the courage front is Raven, a border collie with lymphoma, who is heading for a bone marrow transplant. It's not something that's been done much, if at all, in the UK, I suspect on cost grounds, and it's still unusual in the US. It's now a relatively normal treatment for humans, but Raven's still something of a pioneer. My thoughts are with her family.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
The dogs are resting, exhausted by their Chirpy Chicks. I went out to Tesco's this morning and bought them each a reduced-price Easter chicky that makes near-realistic cheeping noises. Herbie's is fine, but soggy; Holly's now has no cheep and is minus a foot.
I don't have a start date yet for the new job, but I'm working my way through the maze of bureaucracy that attends such things.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
I went to shut the door - and discovered he'd undone a morning's work. My sister looks on her plants as precious babies, so this was a bit of a blow. "What was he thinking?" she asked. (Umm... "Remove phlox? Check. Take bulbs out of tubs? Check. Spread potting compost across the drive? Check. Ha, my work here is done." Something like that.) It was a difficult moment, because while I commiserated with my sister, secretly I was happy he still felt like getting up to mischief.
When we went to see the oncologist, back at the begining of January, and he told me that there was no point in continuing with treatment that wasn't working, Herbie was sniffing through his waste-bin and then scouting along the work surfaces - the vet's had a row of what looked like kitchen units, and to Herbie that means food. The vet looked at Herbie and said, "You know, I get dogs in here that can barely stand, barely lift their heads." I think he meant, he's not ready to go yet. Herbie now is getting lumpier and lumpier, but he still acts like a normal dog in so many ways.
This is all a roundabout way of saying, I don't want to go back to work, but I have to. I haven't worked in over a year now, and the financial pressures have increased to a point where I have to. I've accepted a job in York, and will start soon, though the date is still to be agreed. Part of me feels that to go back is to invite instant doom upon Herbie, and that somehow he has only survived so long because I've been at home. At the same time, I can see how arrogant and irrational that sounds - he might do a whole lot better if he can kip in peace all day. I just don't know, but I do know it's time to do something about my finances. One day, I will be able to work from home, and never have this dilemma again, but this year, I need to take action. Despite all the stress and angst, it's been a great year being At Home With Herbie, and I hate to leave him with only a lunchtime walk from my father. (Good job my father doesn't read blogs!)
Friday, March 14, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
Nevertheless, he stayed up late to watch Crufts (he normally puts himself to bed around 8!). For once, the BBC commentators were spot on, and the Giant Schnauzer did take Best in Show. I think it showed real confidence on the part of the owner, to win Best of Breed three years in a row, and still come back in the hope of going higher. All in all, a great evening of dog TV!
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Friday, February 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Yogi lost his battle with gastro-intestinal lymphoma today. He had been doing well, so it came as a real shock to me, and now I have a soggy keyboard, but I had to post his picture, to say run free, little one, you are not forgotten. My thoughts are with Fiona and the rest of his family.
Monday, February 25, 2008
I may not spend much time updating my blog, but I sure know how to waste time online... The dogs are both snoozing. Holly has pulled the duvet half-way off the bed and is nesting under it, in the sort of tent we used to construct as children. Herbie has all my pillows and his own duvet, pulled into a ring doughnut shape. He's lumpy, but otherwise in good spirits.
Holly is turning into a hippo, because she won't go on walks without Herbie, and he doesn't want to go more than half an hour, fairly slowly. If I take Holly on her own, she digs her heels in because I've obviously forgotten Herb, and we must return to the house immediately to fetch him. If I try and drag her, she blocks me with her body, trying to herd me back. It's sweet, but she's not getting enough exercise. I'm currently devising cunning plans, many of them involving chicken on a piece of string. Somehow, I need to lure her away from Herbie for a while.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
It's also been 16 days since Dennis the greyhound ran off after a traffic accident. There have been no sightings for a couple of weeks, so it's not looking good. We've had a couple of very cold nights, and if he didn't manage to get his muzzle off, there'll be little chance of him surviving this long. If he's passed, then run free, Dennis, and if he hasn't, then stop mucking about and head for the nearest friendly-smelling house!
We've had freezing fog all day today, and the spider webs on the bushes are still thick with ice. Like spiders, we've been stuck in our web all day today. Weirdly, Herbie's lumps seem to go down in really cold weather, and come up again in warmer weather (I'm talking 10 degrees C here). There must be some scientific explanation, but for the moment, I'm darned if I know.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
This would be the penultimate week of Herbie's initial chemo protocol, back when he was diagnosed at the beginning of September. Then, 25 weeks seemed a very long time, and I wasn't at all sure he'd see the end of it. Now, his shaved patches are almost grown back, and with him going into moult (I know he's not a bird, but same thing) you can hardly see the wide patches on both flanks where the initial ultrasound was done.
I've found out he has T-cell lymphoma, which has a worse prognosis than B-cell. I'm glad, in many ways, I didn't know that last September. He might be Mr. Lumpy-Neck, but he's still with me.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
The last item is a real worry - a greyhound can live off the land better than most, being able to catch rabbits and smaller wildlife, but with a muzzle on, his chances are not good. It wasn't until the end of the week that the notice went onto DogLost and some of the greyhound forums. He was spotted several miles away from the crash the day after, but since then, there's been nothing.
The area he was seen in, Sherburn-in-Elmet, has a fair amount of woodland close by, so he could be hiding locally. Greyhounds can cover a lot of ground, though, and by now he could be anywhere. It was worth a try, and we met some nice dog walkers who promised to keep an eye out. Other people on DogLost have already postered the area, so now all we can do is wait and pray for another sighting.
It's a long way from me, but Holly enjoyed her trip out. Herbie stayed home to guard his bone. I hope Dennis is still alive, and turns himself in.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
I've also been reading about lymphoma in humans. I was told by the oncologist we saw at Cambridge Vet School that the typology of lymphoma was not as well understood in dogs as it is in humans. In humans, there is something called "indolent lymphoma", which is not particularly responsive to chemo, but equally, is not aggressive in its spread. I'm wondering if Herbie has something of the kind.
I'm back to chewing my nails, and reading things. It's a form of escape, always reading, but it's all I can really do right now. Herbie's skin has gone all loose, as if it's coming away from his body. He's lost most of his muscle mass from the prednisone, but up till now, his skin has stayed firm. Now, when I groom him, it's as if all his skin is just floating away from his bones, but there's nothing in between to anchor it.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
If I ate what the dogs ate (now) I might be a lot healthier. Maybe not Herbie's entirely carb-free diet (the sugar beet pulp gives him alarmingly black poos)(though it could be worse, I could have a squirrel in the house), but Holly's brown rice, cabbage/broccoli/green beans and chicken or beef mince, split into 3 meals a day... the Dog Diet. How Living Like Your Dog Will Change Your Life. I think I feel a best-seller coming on!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
This would be Not-Chemo Week 22, and Herbie is doing fine, all things considered. It's getting a little harder to keep the weight on him, but he's eating well.
I did some snow-shopping this morning. There's meant to be a few inches on the way, and I'm just far enough off the gritter route for that to be uncomfortable. The freezer is full again, and all is well.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Today, fortunately, he is still walking about, except when he's waving all four legs in the air.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
If anyone bugs my house, boy am I going to be embarrassed. Not only do I use made-up words in a high-pitched voice ("my little snoofly-noofly") but everything normal tends to be said twice ("Was that yummy? Was that yummy?"). I also ask a lot of stupid questions ("Who's a little Holly, then?")
The thought that a human might be out there listening to this drivel fills me with horror, but it also raises some interesting questions. Will the cats get called as witnesses? Will animal communicators have to come to court to interpret? This could be history in the making...
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Yesterday, we had an early night. On the North Yorkshire moors, electricity is a bit of an optional extra at this time of year, and at seven p.m. precisely, we lost ours. I have candles everywhere in case, and this year's main Christmas presents included:
1) A wind-up radio (power-cuts, for use during)
2) A portable camping stove and gas cylinder (ditto)
I just wasn't expecting to have to use them quite so soon! The wind-up radio worked beautifully (except that Radio 4 wanted to tell me about footballers in Africa... could we please have even one radio station with no football on?) An early night, two dogs snuggled up under their blankies, and me reading a book by torchlight while the wind howled outside.
On the subject of dog-parenting, I think it must depend on how old the dog is when he/she arrives - Herbie came to me aged four, with a full career behind him, so I never felt like a mother, more of a guardian to a Distinguished Otherworldly Guest. He had certain expectations, certain ways of doing things, and I adapted to those as much as he adapted to me. Holly arrived as an adolescent hooligan, a week short of her second birthday, and I think of her more as a child - but as she's not that well-behaved, definitely someone else's!
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Sunday afternoon, I realised my mistake - the living room was wall-to-wall foam chips. A whole year the little lad's been waiting for an opportunity; it's been a long time since I last forgot. Yesterday I went to Thirsk market and bought two car sponges, one for the car, and one for Herbie. At this stage in his life, if he wants car sponges...
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
In theory, 80 per cent of dogs achieve remission with chemo - for the stats to work out, there has to be another 20 per cent, and unfortunately Herbie's in that group. So, all I can do now is feed him lumps of chicken, and enjoy the time we have left.