Fetch 'n Fun

Curve Ball

When life pitches you a curve ball….hit it hard and run even harder.  

I brought Kokeano in for his annual rabies shot Thursday.  He didn’t come home.  He ended up staying to have yet another tumor removed.  When I walked through the door without him Clem started to shake, and Zander’s eyes darted everywhere looking for him.  Nike was definitely disappointed that his play buddy was nowhere to be found. 

It was a miserable day for all of us.  I had no idea how central Kokeano was to everyone’s happiness in this house!  Zander was biting at imaginary bugs, hiding, and barking at us to cover his face with a blanket – a behavior that increases when he is stressed.  Clem kept walking around sniffing and searching.  She’d ask to go outside even when she didn’t need to pee, just to see if Kokeano was outside.  Nike was choosing pillows as a substitute for playing with Kokeano. 

So it was a relief for all of us when Kokeano came home that afternoon.  A mass, the size of a baseball was taken out of him, leaving 19 staples and a drain tube on his behind.

When we came through the door, Kokeano was greeted by very happy dogs, who began sniffing carefully, and watching.  He went to sleep in his crate, and Zander hopped in his crate and promptly fell asleep.  Clementine investigated a little bit more, smelling around Kokeano’s crate, then trotted off to her favorite spot and fell asleep.  Whew, they were relieved; except Nike who did not understand.  He immediately went into the ‘play’ position as Kokeano entered the house, danced around a bit, and sulked like a child when he was denied the opportunity to romp.   I was challenged all weekend to try to find creative ways to keep Nike busy in 100 degree heat!

 

Meanwhile, we were given the results of the biopsy.  Kokeano had a grade 3 mast-cell tumor.  Roughly 20% of dogs with this type of tumor live more than 12 months.  Kokeano will continue to get these tumors, however, as long as they are not in a vital organ, swift detection and removal will prolong his life.

As many of you know, Kokeano is the whole reason Fetch 'n Fun began.  He is a beloved member of our family.  This was quite a curve ball for the Joakim family, but we are determined to turn it into a homerun for Kokeano...and Nike will be running the bases with him!

The Good, the Bad......

and the Ugly Cute

The Good:

Poor Nike, all he wants to do is play.  So much so that when my dogs are pooping, he is trying to play with them.  As I watch Clementine squatting, Nike is dancing around her playfully mouthing her as if he were 12 weeks old.  She is forced to back up, causing her to step in her own mess.  Nike advances, so – still squatting – she gives him her “Back away buddy or I’ll bite your head off” bark.  Nike misunderstands and goes into the play position.  By then, I’m down the stairs telling Nike to leave poor old Clementine alone.  I have to escort her back into the house and wash off her paws. 

Meanwhile, Nike has switched his attention to Kokeano.  Now, Kokeano has taken on the role as number one teacher.  He knows when to just stand there like a patient grandpa while Nike dances around him like a spinning top on steroids.  Eventually the top spins itself out, and at that time Kokeano moves in to demonstrate appropriate play styles. 

The Bad:

The combination of Nike’s diarrhea and not knowing how to indicate that he needed to go potty was an assault to my nose as well as my carpet.  I had invested in a carpet cleaner last year when Zander developed some bowel issues that caused him to lose 12 pounds in two weeks!  I could have sworn those 12 pounds were all over my carpet. 

As Nike squatted and squirted, looking at me with that cute innocent face, I realized – he’s never been potty trained!  After all, he never needed to be; having lived in a kennel that was designed with a drain for the purpose of easy clean-up.  A day of fasting helped get Nike’s bowels under control while I watched his potty habits.  It was fascinating.  Nike does not pee!  He marks, but I have never seen him just stop and pee because he needed to relieve his bladder.  This was surely another sign of being institutionalized.  Here’s hoping Nike learns where to potty as quickly as he learned ‘down’ (taught it to him once, and he’s got it down-pat , yes..pun intended).

The Ugly Cute

I don’t know who was more exhausted, Nike or me, but after an embarrassing experience at his dog obedience lesson where he got off leash and set himself up as the ‘behavior’ child, Nike and I woke up the next more a bit more than tired. 

Things were unusually quiet as I was working, and I glanced over to see Nike asleep in the chair!  This was a first; he’d never been this relaxed around my dogs.  It was so cute I had to take a picture.  The day was off to a good start.

 

Then in the evening I was shocked.  Zander, who avoids Nike as much as possible, actually climbed up onto the chair next to him and they both fell asleep, until I went over and took a picture.  Thankfully, they remained in position long enough for a good photo.  SO CUTE!

 

Guilt, Grief, and Diarrhea; an emotional sandwich served only at the Diner for Insomniacs

I recall sitting in my living room with my one week old, firstborn daughter and thinking, I don’t remember what life was like a week ago.  Everything is so different now; I am so different.  Twenty-one years later I sit at the computer attempting to write a blog about Nike and the reality of how quickly life changes hits me once again.

Nike and I attended his first obedience class.  He was incredibly scared.  He knew we were at a shelter; nothing could deny what his nose was telling him.  Within the first 5 minutes of training, I was ready to rescue him yet again and just leave, but instinct told me he needed to finish this.  My decision to stay was confirmed as being the right choice on the way home.  I hadn’t seen Nike happier yet.  I had brought him to a place he did not want to go, a place he feared he would be left at, and yet, he was in the car going back ‘home’ with me, something I don’t think he expected.  As I was driving home, Nike kissed my face, licked my hair, giving me a definite greaser look, then rolled up in a ball on the front seat and fell asleep.  Maybe Nike didn’t learn to ‘sit’ on command, but he did learn that he was loved; a lesson well worth the stress. This was the happiest I had ever seen him.  I was filled with joy. 

The following day, just hours before picking up our Northern Ireland exchange student John sat us down and gave us the painful news that Uncle Al had died.  Uncle Al had the uncanny ability to make each of us feel like we were his favorite niece or nephew. This past Christmas we made our first attempt since opening Fetch ‘n Fun to take a family vacation to visit Uncle Al and Aunt Seva, but due to severe weather, the airports were closed and the trip never happened. 

Death is so inconvenient, grief so predictable.  And the guilt so overwhelming.  Guilt at not having gotten to Pennsylvania sooner, guilt for being so busy with making preparations I didn’t have time to go for a run with Nike, the pain in my daughter’s eyes as we packed, more guilt at having to leave our exchange student for a few days….

During our nearly sleepless 28 hour trip to Pennsylvania and back the daycare was well taken care as well as our own dogs, and yet it was too much for my poor Clementine and Nike.  We came home to the two of them suffering from diarrhea.  Many things can upset a dog’s intestinal track, but nothing is more disturbing to me than the diarrhea brought on by stress.  More guilt was layered on my emotional sandwich. 

I lay awake at 3:00 in the morning devouring this emotional sandwich, wishing I could sent it back to the kitchen for having way too much grief poured over the small patty of joy when I realize the bread used in this sandwich actually tastes good.  It strikes me that Nike had spent the entire afternoon outside of his crate just hanging out with me and my three dogs. For the first time he wasn’t on alert, tearing up pillows, or aggravating my dogs.  He was content just to be one of us.  I marvel at how much he has learned in one week and what a different dog he has become.   I wipe a little guilt off of my emotional sandwich and take another bite. The bread of contentment mellows out the taste of grief and enhances the patty of joy, while the bite of the guilt sauce has less of a kick.

This week; I have said goodbye to an uncle who was dear to me while Nike has said goodbye to being an orphan.