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About Magdalene

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    Grey Pup
  • Birthday 06/06/1970

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  1. She is absolutely convinced that she and Franklin (the cat) are destined to be best buds. I think her problem is that she doesn't understand he's not a dog. She likes to give him baths. He was way not happy about that at first, but over time, he's come to enjoy that. But then she wants to play rowdy, and he's all 'nope'.
  2. LOL--had I been two seconds faster with the camera, you would have seen her head tucked under Kyria's 'armpit'.
  3. I wish it were playing, but it is definitely fighting me. She's been wearing it all day today (I gotta say, it feels weird to leave it on her) without a fuss, so it mystifies me that she gets that way about putting it on, but is fine once it is. The 'standing' is part of how she tries to fight me--she'll wiggle away and go lie down somewhere, because she knows I can't get it on her that way. (Well, I *can*, but not as easily.) Or she'll try to nip my hands, or yank the harness away. I'll keep trying treats though. Maybe the positive reinforcement will break through at some point!
  4. And a video of her playing with Franklin. Or rather, she wants to play. Franklin tends to find her annoying. Though lately, he's been warming up to the idea, and sometimes initiates play with her. A lot of times, he just stomps off in annoyance. Then comes back about ten minutes later. (I am just the human who lives here.)
  5. OK--I had wondered a while back if I should just leave the harness on, but I wasn't sure if it would be the right thing to do or not. We just got back from a walk, and I unclipped her leash and left the harness on. She doesn't seem bothered by it, so we'll see how this goes. Here is a picture of her with Kyria the day she came home, when she was four months old. I'll upload a more recent picture of her soon. She was a runt (perfectly healthy, just smaller than her littermates), so the kennel that had her asked my adoption group if somebody would like her. I figured with Kyria being a retired brood mom (and was always looking for something to mother), and Mia being in need of maternal love, I figured this was a good match. It hasn't quite worked out the way I'd hoped, but they're working on it. (Though I'm guessing Mia, who is now eight months, must be in her 'teen years', and Kyria's clearly had enough of her lip.)
  6. Hi, all--been awhile, but the latest is that four months ago, I took on a 4-month-old greyhound puppy. (Feel free to start laughing at my foolishness.) It's been rough, but we've been making a lot of progress, and some things, I know it's just a case of puppy energy (which doesn't always make it fun to deal with, but at least I know eventually she'll grow out of it.) One problem that we're still having off-and-on, however, is putting on her harness. Half the time she's pretty good about it, the other half of the time, she fights like hell. I've tried making it fun, offering treats, and it's still 50/50 if she fights me or not. Once the harness is on, she's fine, and she really enjoys walks. And I've adjusted the harness to make sure it fits her properly, so I'm at a loss for why half the time she fights me on it. Any help would be appreciated.
  7. In relation to Jack's Go Red, I was looking up some of her pups, and I saw that one of her daughters, Jack's Tap Shoes, is listed as a "Derby Lane Gold Trophy Juvenile Finalist". I've tried looking this up, but I'm not getting the significance of what this means?
  8. I picked up a new foster yesterday whom I'm strongly interesting in adopting. Her race name was Jack's Go Red, whelped 2/17/2009, ears are 29C and 49655. I was wondering if there could be an interpretation of how she did at the track, please?
  9. Dazzle and Mystique died two weeks apart from each other. I live in a three-level townhouse with my sister, two cats, and the two dogs prior to the death of the dogs. The top level of the house is where the bedrooms are, and all of the critters, Dazzle especially, used to like to run back and forth along the hall for the fun of it. (She was easily amused.) She always sounded like a herd of elephants when she did this. The morning after she died, my sister and I were downstairs--my sister was in the kitchen with one of the cats, and I was in the living room with the other cat and Mystique, when we heard somebody running back and forth in the upstairs hall. The surviving animals heard it too--they were all attentively looking upstairs. I called out her name, and the sound of the running stopped. Mystique died two weeks later, on a Saturday. The following Monday, I was in the kitchen packing my lunch for work, when my "Adopt a Greyhound" bracelet fell off the microwave.....I had been nowhere near the microwave. So I put it on and wore it that day. To add to this.....I wonder if Mystique knew her time was coming. I had Dazzle cremated and brought her ashes home and sat them on the hearth of the fireplace. Mystique was fascinated with the box. She kept going over to sniff it in the week between when I got it back and when she died. I couldn't decide if she somehow knew it was Dazzle, or if it was her way of understanding that this was her fate, too.
  10. It was a good thing, I think....my sister and I were talking about it later, and my sister mentioned that she'd thought it was time, because Mystique had visibly been losing weight, and while she hadn't stopped eating entirely, her appetite had definitely dropped off a bit. So she must've been getting close to the 'about to be miserable' point. For the first time in ten years, nobody's needed me to take them outside to go potty. And for the first time in a year, nobody's needed me to make up their drugs for them. I have the cats, still, who need fed, watered, and looked after, but....they don't *quite* need me the way the dogs needed me. I somehow feel so useless and without a purpose.
  11. This one was so much harder, because unlike the others, this was a 'back and forth' struggle. Mystique came to me at the age of 10 with incontinence, which she was on DES for, and I was told it was controlled, but when she first came to my house, she was having all kinds of problems with it. At first I put it down to stress of moving, but after some weeks of frustration and running to the vet several times, she was put on a cocktail of DES, Proin, and Carprofen (it turned out she had a touch of arthritis which was complicating the issue.) She also wound up needing thyroid medication. But everything worked, and she was doing fine. We had a few good months there. Then she developed sarcoma. And it seemed as soon as she was diagnosed, her incontinence went to hell on her. More tests, more running to the vet, trying this with the meds, trying that....and to top it off, she started fighting taking her meds, when before she was good about it. Grind 'em up, put 'em in yogurt, and she slurped 'em right down....and suddenly, she wouldn't. Tried hot dogs, ground beef, pill pockets.....you name it, I tried it. I'd get them in her.....but it was now a fight when before, she'd been great about it. Her arthritis was also getting worse, so she got Tremedol as well. But she was still having issues. This all started about mid-March... ...and she was just...back and forth. She was always having accidents, and it seemed 'good days' were measured by, "Well, she *almost* made it outside." I was taking her water away at six, taking her out as late as midnight to potty....and she'd still have accidents in the middle of the night. Keep talking to the vet. Keep running tests, tweaking the meds...and no success. The arthritis was getting worse--she'd have trouble getting up for a laying-down position, sometimes I had to help her up. And the stairs were getting harder for her. Her appetite was getting erratic. And last Wednesday night, it was just *really* bad....she'd gone potty at five, and had an accident 30 minutes later. Again, no water after six, last potty at midnight....and she woke me up at 3 a.m. to go potty.....and she'd already soaked the carpets through. And by then, it had been going on for two months...it had actually been pretty standard by then that we were going to bed at midnight and waking up before 4 a.m., and she'd either already gone or wasn't making it to the door in time. So I called Dr. Cordeiro and made an appointment for today. The hardest part were her last two days. Thursday night, she made it through most of the night with no problems, and I felt...hopeful. But she was sick later that morning after drinking her water. And Friday night, she had an accident in the middle of the night again....and today, two hours before the doctor came, she stole my pizza. Which made me second-guess myself again, because how bad off can she be if she steals my pizza, right? He and I spoke about it, and he did notice that she was trying, and failing, to get to her feet, and we discussed all her other issues where she was beginning to fail....and it was decided better to end her life on a somewhat good pizza-thieving note, rather than wait a few weeks when the inevitable came and she was miserable. She was put to sleep on the red sofa that she always liked to sneak up onto when she thought I wasn't looking. She never did figure out Red Sofa+White Dog=I Know It's You, Mystique. I figured let her go in her favorite place in the whole house. I only had her little more than a year....
  12. As usual, I came home from work, and as usual, Dazzle came flying down the stairs like a bat out of hell. Only today she took a fall, and broke her leg where the cancer lesion was. The vet said outright there were no good options. I always joked with her that her racing down the stairs like that would be the death of her someday. Little did I know that would actually be the truth of it.
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