Rookie 1995 - 2010

Our Old Fella left us today with the dignity and grace only Rookie would have. Words just cannot describe the despair we are feeling today.

This is dedicated to my husband because there wasn't much I could do to console him except to remind him of the great life we gave Rookie. Love you.

Yet another sign it's time.....

My hubby and I were chatting the other day about Rookie's sense of boundaries. In every home we have lived in that has been without fences, he always seems to know where the property lines are and never leaves them. Even when there are visitors - and we all know how much goldens love people - he would get up to greet them, his hind end wagging in the opposing direction of his tail, but he would always stop short of the property line. Lately he seems to have lost that sense.

Our home is in a slightly rural area. Tree'd property surrounds us on three sides. One lot has a footpath to the beach. For whatever reason, I'll have him in the back yard and as he is stumbling around the property line on that side, suddenly he starts to pick up speed and makes a break for it. He's not running, but he's moving. Of course I can't call him because he can't hear me. I have to run to catch up to him and if I am unlucky enough that he glances back at me before I reach him, he misconstrues my walking toward him for "we're going for a walk" and he continues walking at his accelerated pace until I'm able to catch up to him and lead him back home.

On the other side of our property is a treed lot between us and a park that we used to take him on his walks. He doesn't have the strength to make it there anymore. We have a patch of grass on that side of the yard that we have aptly named, "The Poo Patch". Over the past couple of weeks, he's taken the liberty of stepping behind the trees there, across the property line, to do his business. I stand nearby and keep an eye on him. The other day he took it a few yards further and as I watched him get caught up in the low lying branches of a tree and struggle to turn around, compounded by the depth of the snow, I wondered what he could possibly be thinking.

Yesterday he took it a step further. Same place, different scene. I have both dogs outside for their morning constitutional. It's very cold. Rookie is sniffing around the side of the yard. Ernie is busy rubbing his nose into the snow and just being Ernie. I see out of the corner of my eye that Rookie is starting to make a break for it behind the trees but at the same time, Ernie starts doing the tripod dance. Cold toes. I look back at Rookie and he is moving further and further into the bushes. I can't leave Ernie out there while I retrieve the retriever so I quickly scoop Ernie up, run him into the house and head out into the bushes. By the time I catch up to Rookie he has just about reached the park but he's somewhat tangled up in a thatch of prickly branches and looking somewhat disoriented. He sees me and relief washes over him as I come to his rescue. Once I get him out he heads in the wrong direction and every time I redirect him, he continues to move away from the house. He seems to have no sense of where home is anymore. I wish I knew what was going through his mind.

My mom told me a story about a family dog she had when she was young. The elderly dog disappeared so she went on a hunt for it which lead her down to the beach. She found him, lying beside some logs on the shore and he had passed away. He wandered away to die. Is this what Rookie is thinking or is Rookie trying to get to the park for one last walk? Only he knows.

Grief

Grief....that’s all I feel, taste, and breathe today and our friend, Rookie, is still with us. We’ve been preparing, or trying, to prepare ourselves for what Tuesday holds for us. After nearly 15 years of a full and adventurous life, Rookie will be leaving us. For the past several years we have been bargaining with a higher power to just simply allow us to get him out of the North so he could retire to a life of leisure lounging on the deck, watching life go by. And that higher power did pull through for us but it seems it wasn’t long before we were bargaining again, this time with one another. Around Christmas time, Rookie had another bout of vestibular syndrome and while it did not seem as dire as the first episode he suffered up North, he has not made much progress in his recuperation – he has no balance. He falls on the hardwood floors, he falls on the tile floor, he falls up and down the 3 short stairs to get outside and he falls while he’s walking. Thank goodness the ground is covered with snow. In true Rookie fashion, he figures since he has already fallen, he might as well make a few snow angels while he’s down there.
So adding his current situation to his growing list of ailments – deafness, blindness, arthritic, lumpy, anxious and somewhat delusional – the inevitable has become our reality. Once again, I had secretly called out to that higher power asking for one more favour. Please take him from us so that we don’t have to make the decision for him, but that wasn’t to be. I suppose we’ve asked for too many wishes over the years and this one wasn’t going to happen. His condition continued to deteriorate and Ev & I, individually, started to consider the unavoidable – having Rookie put down. We occasionally would bring the subject up to one another when we’d had a bad day or night with him but it was always quickly dismissed until one morning when Ev brought it up and there was an imminent seriousness to his tone. Me, I just burst into tears and the conversation was done but the message was clear. It was time. A couple of weeks have passed since that morning, but I know we have both been preparing ourselves.
Odd thoughts have come into my mind. This will be the third time for me that I’ve lost a pet who leaves behind a furry companion. My childhood cat KoKo and her offspring, Horse, my heart Megan, and her psychotic sidekick Misha, and now Rookie and Ernie. In both previous instances, the surviving pet only lasted a year after the passing of their partner – heartbroken, I suspect. So I wondered what the surviving pet thought when one day their companion was there and the next, gone. You know when you watch those shows on Animal Planet and a mate or the offspring of an animal dies and the survivor grieves the loss and then moves on? Well it started me thinking – if you have your pet put down, do you bring their partner along so they understand what has happened? Do they truly understand? If we do bring Ernie along, will his need to always be the centre of attention get in the way of peacefully saying good-bye to our dear old friend? Will Ernie be scarred by bearing witness to Rookie’s passing as I know Everett & I will be? I am haunted by witnessing Megan being put down, even though she was basically comatose but the prospect of Rookie having to be put down without the comfort of Ev & I, with strangers in the room, is even harder for me to accept.
I digress – my next step of acceptance was that I wanted to call the vet’s office to ask some questions about the process but I still couldn’t bring myself to do it. Ev was off for a couple of days and as we chatted about what he had on his list to get done, he said it. Out loud. He had to call the vets to make “arrangements”. And I shut down. I tried to distract him all day but he was determined. In his effort to protect me, he suggested I go take a nap. I knew what he was doing. Trying to protect my heart. I could hear him on the phone. I could hear that the person on the other end was taking down information and I could hear that someone was going to call him back. When the call came, I could hear some of his conversation but his voice was very low. What I did hear was the last thing I wanted to – Tuesday at 11:30. Tuesday. At 11:30.
Now, I feel guilt even thinking it but to say it (type it) out loud, but Tuesday can’t come fast enough. Every moment is agonizing. My heart breaks each and every time I look at him. And when I am crying uncontrollably and it’s Rookie that is there to comfort me, nudging my hand with his muzzle for just one more pat, does he know? Does he know that I’m grieving for him? Does he know that his time is limited? Is he trying to reassure me that he is going to be fine? I just don’t know and I just can’t bear to be apart from him right now. Even when he’s asleep, I can’t seem to tear myself away from him.

Now he's done it.

I had a really tough time sleeping on Friday night because Ev is still getting over his cold and so, well, there's no easy way of saying it...he's snoring. Really bad. So I finally switched beds and tried my luck downstairs. I think I hit the hay at 230hrs. He was off to work early Saturday and I was up by 730hrs. I wanted to get an early start on my day as I had a million and one things to get done. Around 830hrs, I came downstairs to switch the laundry around and I swore I heard Ev's truck outside. Gotta love a diesel. So I open the front door and peak my head out and sure enough, he's home. This can't be good. And then I see how slowly he's moving - painfully. Ah, yes. there are now two people in our household with injured backs. I am still dealing with my issues from over a month ago.

So, we got him propped up in the bed. Pillows - check. TV Controls - check. King Cole Tea - check. The SNUGGLER (Ernie) - check. DRUGS - PRICELESS! Of course, the drugs only added to the snoring so how I started my day, I ended it. Time for me to reciprocate his kindness toward me when I was completely down and out.

Really? Could it have been 3 weeks since I posted something.....anything?

I don't know where the time is going. Before you know it, Christmas is going to be here. In my own defense, it has been a busy three weeks. We've been furniture shopping which has taken us to Summerside (west of us), PEI and Montague (east of us), PEI twice. And miracle of all miracles, I, yes I, actually made a decision. Believe me, it was not easy! Decorating is not an easy thing. I know what I like but I'm not great about pulling an entire look together. We certainly have the bulk of our furniture but we did sell off our old couches from our family room before we moved to the North so we definitely needed to fill our basement. As for the rest of it, it's the finishing touches we seem to be missing. Window coverings....what to do? Blinds, shades, curtains? Art on the walls. Lamps. While I love some of the Northern art we bought, it isn't going to cut it in a seaside (almost) home. Good news is, I think we are officially unpacked and 99.9% of the stuff has found a home, even if it is just stashed away. The one thing I will definitely admit, we are in desperate need of a garage sale but it's just not the best time to get it done so it'll have to wait until the Spring.



What else has been keeping me busy....hmm....I've spent some time out in the garden clearing it for the Fall. Two beds down and one to go. The weather has been phenomenal. It's 13 degrees right now and it's only 900hrs! I've had time to visit both our local library and the one downtown and am fast planning a garden or two in my head. I've been reading up on "Lasagna Gardening", particularly for small spaces. It's a method of gardening where you don't actually dig your bed. You start by placing a layer of wet newspaper on your future garden sight and then place layers of compost, peat, mulch, grass clippings on top of it. You continue to stack it until you've reached your desired height and then it "cooks" down. When you plant, again, you don't have to dig. You basically part your layers and place your plants in and it is supposed to not only simplify the planting process (no digging...aka, not having to ask the hubby for help), it also eliminates weeding. Yeah! As time goes by, you just continue to add more layers. Ideally the time to start prepping is now, but I'm not organized enough to get on with it yet. Still haven't figured out where to get mulch and peat. But the leaves....I don't have to go far for those. There are leaves everywhere! I've also been doing a bit of research on what plants do well here. No need to worry about the deer eating your entire garden here. There are no deer on the island. I've found a great blog written by a woman who has the most amazing garden I have ever seen. I'm going to have to figure out where it is so I can see it in person.



I have been doing a bit of knitting at night time. Nothing big. Just a couple of small projects. A pair of heavy wool socks for Ev, a toque for myself, and a helmet liner for Ev.

As for the rest of my time, it appears to be eaten up by tending the boys - two walks a day, messing up, then cleaning my house (I know my parents are laughing right now), getting caught up on some household paper work (bills) and just getting final details of the move settled (expense claims for the move & damage claims..argh!). Doing my wifely duties and then crashing out at night. As we have no couch with a TV placed in front of it, I spend my evenings watching TV from the comfort of my NEST, um, bed. I can't wait for those couches to get here!

What I'm guilty of is neglecting a few friends. So I apologize to those that are wondering where the heck I have disappeared to. I'll be back. Promise!





Ernie spends his day chasing sunrays around the house. I'd swear he's part cat. Here he is on the stairs trying to squish in the last minutes of the sun before it leaves his resting place.

He's faced quite the dilemma. Most of you know that he is attached to my hip which has made the unpacking process a nightmare. He is not content to just sit in one spot. He ALWAYS has to be where I am. So every trip I make up or down the stairs, he makes - even when I command him *cough, cough* to stay. Well, the other day I was upstairs settling my office/craftroom away and he was completely torn. Now that he'd discovered this idyllic little perch, he was reluctant to leave it but his separation anxiety got the best of him. For two hours, he would stand in the sunny spot, glaring at the top of the stairs, willing me to present myself. About every five minutes or so he'd run up the stairs, hunt me down, make eye contact and then run back down and resume his standing position. Seriously?! The dog needs drugs!

What a day!

I got up around 8:30, took the dogs out for a pee, brushed my teeth, made coffee, quickly checked emails, trimmed Ernie up a bit, bathed & blowdryed him and quickly got myself ready and out the door to the vets we go. I spend an hour with the vets and leave Ernie there for more tests and they tell me to call at 3:15.

I then drive home to meet up with Ev so we can go out. I pick up the mail. We stop by the previous owner's of our house to exchange some mail and off we go again. We head back into town to our insurance agent to insure my car & our utility trailer and get some information about our house insurance.

We then drive to Access PEI where we register all three vehicles & get plates and exchange our old driver's licenses for PEI licenses.

We go out to the parking lot where I call the vet...it's 3:30. He's done. So I drive there and Ev goes home to get ready for work. Once I get there, I take some ibuprofen because I feel a killer headache coming on. I meet with the vet to discuss Ernie's situation which only leaves me more confused. They prescribed some ointment for his rash and I head back out to the front to settle up the account, wait for the prescription to be filled and book a return visit for a month.

Out we go, drive home. I see Ev didn't have a chance to make himself a lunch but notice he stopped at Sobey's on his way home so I'm guessing he picked himself up a sandwich or something from there to take to work. I feed the boys. Walk the boys. Send Ev an email. It's 5:45 and then it dawns on me...I haven't eaten a thing all day. No wonder I had a headache. I heat up some borscht that's in the fridge and finally sit down to eat.

Once I'm done I send Ev an email at work to call me to discuss what the vet said and he informs he didn't take or buy anything for dinner that he's going to come home and....wait for it....eat the soup....that I just ate! Oops.

I am a bad doggy-mama!

OMG! I am such a bad doggy-mama! Everytime I take Rookie for a walk by myself at the park next door, as soon as I take him off leash he bee-lines it toward the grass and trees. Not sure what keeps catching his interest - other dogs, squirrels, foxes? But it is nose to the ground and off he goes. Well, after he gets about 100 yards away, he suddenly realizes I am not there and even though I am in direct line of sight, his vision is so bad that he can't see me, even when I'm jumping up and down doing jumping jacks. He whips his head left, then right and then I think he's looking right at me but there is no recognition and panic sets in. He starts running, and most of the time he runs close enough to where I am that I eventually get his attention and the relief is palpable.

Well today while Ernie and I continued down the path I kept glancing back at Rookie. After he sniffed whatever he's sniffing and rolled in the grass, he stood up, shook off and then, once again, the terror sets in and he starts running. Unfortunately it was at the same time that Ernie decided to do a "big job" and he was running the wrong direction...back toward home. So I start running after him, clapping my hands, leaving Ernie easy pickings for any foxes watching from the nearby woods. As soon as Ernie saw me running he starts chasing me, not having completely finished the task at hand. As I neared Rookie (thank goodness he doesn't run very fast anymore) he finally heard me clapping and turned around.

Now if that doesn't prove me a bad doggy-mama, this sure will. It has been just over a month since Ernie was diagnosed with kidney failure. He goes back to the vet tomorrow to have some tests completed to see if the meds he is on are making any difference. Well, Ev and I have been so busy unpacking and then had company for a week that I have not been snuggling Ernie like I usually do. If I had been, I would have noticed that he has broken out in sores and bruises all over his belly. I found a sore on his back on Friday but last night he was boinking around wanting to get up on my lap. I picked him up and flipped him on his back like you would hold a baby. As I started scritching his belly, I noticed a big bruise like sore on his belly. Then I noticed another sore, and another and another. The more I looked the more I found. There must be about 6 of them in different stages of healing. OMG! My poor little baby. Of course I googled the medication and its side effects and sure enough, skin eruptions are a side effect. Well, shame on me for having my head in the sand. And thank goodness he goes back to the vets tomorrow.

I'll keep ya posted!