At what cost...???

Oh my... lots of cobwebs in here... looks like the place hasn't been visited in a while. Turns out that isn't entirely true. It just hasn't been visited by me. While I wasn't paying attention, there have been over 3300 visits to my little site. Some by accident, I'm sure. Having the words penis extension and viagra in one of the posts probably drew a few unwitting web surfers... But here I am again, adding a post for difficult reasons. Lola is still with us, but she's having leg issues again. This led me back to the "what is the cost -vs- what is reasonable" treatment argument.

As readers are well aware, we have lost two of our furry friends to cancer. Osteosarcoma to be specific. I hate typing that word, let alone talking about it. We have chosen the "leave-it-be and limit the discomfort" brand of pet care. Mags only lasted a few months... Cocoa over six. Quality of life, lots of love and unlimited cookies were the drugs of choice.

Others choose a different route. Amputation, chemotherapy and even homeopathic remedies are options. Whatever we chose to do, it has to make sense for both the pet and owner. What are the treatment options? What are the costs in money, time and discomfort? Who are you doing this for? The animal? Or you? Admitting to ourselves that we are keeping an elderly, sick pet around for selfish reasons is difficult. We love them, right? They're family, right? We would do anything for family. Sometimes letting go is the best, most loving thing we can do.

So we'll get Lola to the Vet... X-rays, examination and maybe (if we're lucky) a prescription for anti-inflammatory drugs and pain killers. if not, we'll ask about all of the medical/surgical options and weigh the costs versus the benefits. If it turns out that another surgery is required, she's only seven, so surgery it will be. The kind of surgery and who will do it is in the "to be determined" category. At her age, the $3500 titanium knee option probably isn't in the cards, but there are other kinds of surgery that are less expensive and maybe 80% as effective.

First things first, let's see what is actually wrong. Then we have decisions to make. We'll make the one we think is best, but the fact is, we have to consider cost. It's not being cold or heartless, just realistic.

That's my message, really. What is both responsible to our four-legged friend, and what is prudent. Being a grownup is hard... I hate being a grownup...


... figured I would give an update. The left knee is definitely torn, but it appears to be a partial tear with arthritis that makes it more uncomfortable for her. So anti-inflammatory drugs and pain killers it is. We (Lola's parents and the Vet) decided that surgery wasn't in the cards. She can walk and trot, so we aren't putting her under the knife. Most of the swelling is gone, and she seems comfortable, so she (and we) dodged a bullet.

Now, about that damned ear infection... (don't ask...)

OK...but why a make a Bullmastiff???

I think I covered this many moons ago...but you're probably aware of the 60% Mastiff, 40% extinct Bulldog makeup of the Bullmastiff. Mastiff for size and strength, Bulldog for courage and tenacity. The big, silent stalker that the Gamekeeper required to protect the Master's game.

But what game? Where? When? What's all that about, anyway?

In a way, that's a funny question. Not so much funny...haha...more ironic in a personal sense.

I'm a Bullmastiff guy. My wife and I are Bullmastiff people.
My brother and sister-in-law are Greyhound folks. He writes about them here:

www.blocksporthounds.com

As it turns out...Bullies exist because of Greyhounds. Not entirely of course, but in large measure because poachers (anyone hunting on Noble land was considered a poacher) used Greyhounds to course game. Bullmastiffs were breed to course poachers! So in a very real way, Greyhounds begot Bullmastiffs. My brother's dogs gave us ours. Thanks, Bro.

Basically it worked like this: In Medieval times there existed in England a set laws known as the Forest Laws. Basically, it stated that the Land Owner (always a nobleman, peasants owned nothing but the most basic possessions) owned not only the land, but everything on it. Every tree, every rock and all of the animals living on the land. That meant the hungry peasant couldn't shoot, trap or hunt in any way small game to feed his family without the landowners consent.

Enter the Greyhound. Fast, tenacious hunters. Great at coursing and catching small game. There is a reason Racing Greyhounds chase a "rabbit" at the track. It's what they did, and still do. The Nobles tried to enforce the Forest Laws, the poachers tried to evade them. This literally went on for hundreds of years. It wasn't until the middle 1800's that the Laws in England finally caught up to the massive changes in British culture. It was at this time that the Forest Laws were finally replaced with a set of laws known as The Game Act. The Game Act basically stated that anyone caught hunting on protected land was merely trespassing, as opposed to stealing property. The Game Act also established hunting seasons, licensing and enforcement of hunting laws. THAT is where Greyhounds beget Bullmastiffs. The enforcers of the new laws under the game act, the Gamekeeper found that poachers (anyone hunting out of season or without a licence) tended to hunt at night or in the late evenings and early mornings. He needed help to find, and catch poachers in these low visibility conditions. He needed a dog that could stalk and CAPTURE poachers. Unfortunately, there was no suitable dog. The Gamekeepers decided to build one. A dog large enough to subdue an armed poacher. Tenacious enough to want to. Fast enough in short bursts to catch someone running for their life. The Gamekeepers developed such a dog...the Bullmastiff.

So my brother's dog, the greyhound, used by peasants and poachers to illegally catch game necessitated the advent of a new dog to protect the game from unlawful hunting. Neat, huh? Well it is if you like Bullys and Sight Hounds.

Well, that's my story...and I'm sticking to it...

Thanks again for reading...

Lola at Easter

Sorry...tried to put a link here and failed miserably...

I may have to go the "photobucket" route...

Stupid technology.

Gimme Shelter

We recently received pictures from Lola's foster mom of a new set of puppies and their recently rescued momma. The Momma was a surrender, and she was ready to POP. Thankfully, Bullmastiff Rescue of Michigan was ready to step in and it looks like the mom and pups will be OK.

I have made no bones (sorry for the pun, couldn't resist) about how I feel about Breed Rescue and the good people who make it all work. These folks are wonderful and make little lives like Lola's possible. I would be remiss if I didn't mention another group that does some of the same stuff, but in a more public way...your local animal shelter.

Most of us have read the horror-stories about botched euthenisations and starving animals, but I really believe that most County shelters and the staff that runs them have the best interest of the animals at heart. To that end, I ask that you consider lending a helping hand if you can. These are times that produce more strays, not less. More need for volunteers and donations. More basically, of everything.

A quick scan of the phone book should give you a contact number. Ask what they may need and what you can do to help. Do the dogs need walks? Baths? Play-time? Could they use dry food? Mats or blankets? Toys? Collars or leashes?

I know that some of the money for your pets' license goes toward funding the shelter, and maybe a bit of your property taxes as well, but every little bit helps. It could give a dog or cat the little extra time it needs for someone to come in and give it a forever home...

Thanks again for following along...

A safe and happy 4th to you and your pets.

Gregg

Where did our puppy go...?

We were looking at Lola the other day and it occurred to us that she was losing her puppy face. You know, that cute little fuzzy face with the eyes that didn't quite focus just so. She's losing that face. She has a big-dog face now. Not quite a "I've been around the block a few times" face, but definitely not a pup any more.

It's funny, but we couldn't wait for her to grow up. To stop pooping in the house. To learn her place and where she sits in the pack. To understand commands. To be a dog. Now here we are, lamenting the loss of her "puppy-ness". Weird. She was a cute little thing. She's still cute, but in a different way. I'm glad we took pictures.

Speaking of which, we'll eventually have to figure out how to post a few of the better ones. Maybe a chronological group of head shots. Definitely a few of her and Cocoa. The first one will have to be "baby in a basket". Hard to believe that was only in November...

Oh...she might have proven the theory of learning by osmosis. She never saw Cocoa "hunkering", but it seems Lola will be our second to exhibit this most peculiar trait. She hasn't flung herself at the ground yet, but she gets that little butt down to the ground and off she goes in crazy circles.

Rylee would have stared in amazement. Mags would have walked away in a huff, thinking "waisted motion if you aren't chasing a cat". Cocoa, I'm sure, would have been proud.

What happened to Winter?

What's up with the weather? It seems like it was just a few weeks ago that it was November 12th and we had our first snow. And wasn't it just April 6th...our last snow? If my math is right, that's almost five months of winter here in Northeast Ohio. If that wasn't the longest Winter in Cleveland history, it has to be in the top three. Where's all this global warming we keep hearing about? Oh ya, it's called SUMMER!

Anyway, the warm weather is finally here (OK, so it frosted last night, sue me). With warm weather comes increased activity levels and increased demands on our pooches (and us). Remember, our dogs can't pick up the tin cup and bang the crate bars. They need us to remember to keep the water bowl full. Treats are great...belly rubs are wonderful...nothing beats a good scratch behind the ears...except a nice clean drink of H2O.

Let's get out there folks. Off to the beach. Over to the Dog Park. It's frisbee season at the playground, so get out there and have fun with Mans-best-friend. After that game of catch or that jog through the Metro Park and you're enjoying a cold beverage (I'm not implying anything here), don't forget to give you four-legged friend his or her big gulp too!

Now...where did I stash those shorts and sandels back before that last ice age????

PAUL NEWMAN DIED...

THE DAY PAUL NEWMAN DIED

As most of you know, veteran stage and screen star (and notable racecar driver) Paul Newman passed away. His life and times were well reported, as they should have been. By all accounts Mr. Newman was a good man, husband and citizen. He stayed out of trouble, stayed married to the same woman and created charities that bear his name. Something else happened that day...I just thought it was important that you know...

You're an 18 or 19 year old kid. You're critically wounded, and dying in the jungle in the Ia Drang Valley. It's November-14-1965, LZ Xray, Vietnam .

Your infantry unit is outnumbered 8 to 1, and the enemy fire is so intense, from 100 or 200 yards away, that your own Infantry Commander has ordered the MediVac helicopters to stop coming in . You're lying there, listening to the enemy machine guns, and you know you're not getting out.

Your family is half-way around the world, 12,000 miles away, and you'll never see them again. As the world starts to fade in and out, you know this is the day. Then, over the machine gun noise, you faintly hear the sound of a helicopter, and you look up to see an un-armed Huey.

But it doesn't seem real, because no Medi-Vac markings are on it. Ed Freeman is coming for you. He's not Medi-Vac, so it's not his job, but he's flying his Huey down into the machine gun fire, after the Medi-Vacs were ordered not to come. He's coming anyway. And he drops it in, and sits there in the machine gun fire, as they load 2 or 3 of you on board. Then he flies you up and out through the gunfire to the doctors and nurses...and he kept coming back.

13 more times. He took about 30 of you and your buddies out, guys who would never have gotten out. Medal of Honor Recipient Ed Freeman died on a Wednesday, at the age of 80, in Boise, ID. (Oh ya, Paul Newman died that day too. I guess you knew that. He got a lot more press than Ed Freeman.)

With everything that is happening in the world, and the superficial nature of our news media, I just wanted a few more people to know about the Ed Freemans of the world...