The Dying Season

I hate the winter.  For many, many reasons.  I hate snow.  I hate to snow blow.  I’m not a big fan of cold.  It costs a fortune to heat your house through a long Maine winter.  I hate losing the daylight.  But most of all I hate it because starting in late fall and going through to spring, it is the dying season.

If anyone or anything is going to leave this world, it seems they most often do so within this window.  Facebook becomes one long memorial news feed.  Greyhound after greyhound after greyhound crosses the bridge.  Sure some go at other times of the year, but at THIS time of year it is an endless parade.  Girly Girl left me during this window.

And yesterday Fox joined her at the bridge.  He is another in the long parade that will go during this

dying season but to us he was special.  Fox was Grammy and Charlie’s hound.  If ever there was a dog who met the definition of autistic, it was Fox.  He was stoic and patient.  And stubborn.  He wanted to be loved but on his own terms.  You would never consider Fox a cuddly dog. 

Fox is also Blue’s half-brother.  They shared the same Dam.  They both raced at Raynham in the same kennel.  Fox’s stubborn determination kept him on the track for quite awhile and he was one of his Dam’s top winning greyhounds.  After he retired he went to the Maine Greyhound Placement Service and there his stoicism was a hindrance.  Poor Fox lived in the kennel at MGPS for a year.  No one was connecting with this amazing boy and he kept getting passed by.  He had given up hope and even after a special article was written about him in the MGPS newsletter, he remained in the kennel.

That is, until Grammy and Charlie happened along looking for their first greyhound.  Once they heard Fox’s story it did not matter that he was an autistic boy.  They determined to give him a real home.  There was much happiness in the kennel as volunteers found out that Fox (whom they all called Foxy) was getting a forever home.

Fox fit himself into our lives as though he’d always been there.  He wasn’t much for playing with toys, but if ever there was a greyhound who loved him some dinner, it was Fox.  He lived for meal times and treat times.  As he got older, like most old greys that I know, he began wearing little bits of his meals on his muzzle and chin as if he were saving them for later. 

Even with his autism, Fox learned to seek out a connection with the humans in his life.  He would wait patiently in the line of greyhounds seeking attention and then he would present his side to you, carefully looking away and politely wait for you to pet him, or scratch him or rub his belly or ears.  He would stand there until your hands fell off if you let him.

Fox had a funny chirp that he would use when he felt you were not hopping to it quickly enough to get him dinner.  It sounded just like a little bird.  He would start out almost subsonic and gradually raise the volume.  When he wanted to go out he would stand and face the front door.  It didn’t matter that going out meant using the sliding glass doors on the back side of the house.  When he first arrived at Grammy’s outside was through the front door and by god, that’s how it would always be for Fox. 

Fox never got on any furniture.  It terrified him.  We used to joke that the best way to persuade Fox to go lay down if he was bugging you to pet him was to invite him up on the couch with you.  All it took was a quick “come on buddy, get up here with me,” and he would get the whale eye and start backing up and looking for an escape route.  Depending on how serious he thought you were he would retreat to his bed in the living room, or for level 1 threats he would go all the way back to the bedroom and lay down in there.

As he aged, Fox was afflicted by a mysterious illness which was autoimmune in nature.  He began a slow slide downward with various times of serious flare up and times of miraculous recovery.  The last diagnosis we had for him was Alabama Rot.  He suffered through many issues and corresponding

treatments with the patience and constitution of a block of granite.  It did not matter what you had to do to him.  It did not matter that it sometimes involved a lot of pain.  He would always stand and bear whatever had to be done. 

There were a number of times over the past few years where we were sure that Fox was going to leave us.  That it was time to release him.  But in a couple days he would make a complete turn around and be fine again.  Though each of these episodes took a toll and he was never quite as good as he had been before.  Still, this weekend it was a surprise when the time where we would have to say our goodbyes finally did present itself.

Grammy and Charlie held off, hoping like crazy for one more of his miracle turn-arounds but that was not to be.  If Fox was in pain, he never let us see it.  But he lost the ability to stand.  Then he didn’t pee for 36 hours and when he finally did pee, it was because he had lost all control of his bladder.  When the greyhound that lived for food above all else refused to eat, the time had come.

It was a gut-wrenching decision.  His eyes were bright and lively to the end.  His spirit continued to be willing to go on but his body would not cooperate.  Fox was 12 ½ years old.  He had outlived all of his littermates. He had a good run and by rights lived at least a year longer than he probably would have if he had been a dog of lesser determination.  But that doesn’t make it any easier.

We let him go yesterday afternoon with people who loved him holding him as he went.  He went as he had come and as he lived, with stubborn determination and with love.

Run fast and long Royal Foxglove.  Until we meet again.

Fox
Royal Foxglove
6/2/2002 - 1/4/2015

Fox Has a Pox

Fox on December 28, 2013

Fox is my brother.  Well technically he is since he’s one of Grammy’s four-legged kids.  I typically prefer to think of myself as his Auntie.  Fox was adopted by Grammy and Charlie because he was a handsome guy but mostly because he had spent a year at the rescue and despite having been heavily marketed both in the newsletter and to potential adopters, he’d had no takers.  Fox seemed to resign himself to a life as the kennel mascot.

Grammy is a sucker for an underdog.  She only had to hear his story and they adopted him immediately.  We didn’t know it at the time but Fox and Blue share the same dam, Royal Dream.  At 11 years old, Fox is
about a year older than Blue.  He will turn the big 12 in June.

We all love Fox deeply but he is the truest example I have found that animals can be autistic.  He’s super reserved, uptight, demanding and way down deep, needy and loving.  Somewhere a couple of years into life with Fox, Grammy noted that he was having some medical issues that seemed to involve pain in his extremities.  The first vet examined him and subjected him to a barrage of tests and x-rays.  There was

Fox on March 8, 2014

nothing definitive but Fox was given a diagnosis of lumbar spine issues with potential stenosis and/or Cauda Equina Syndrome.

As the years went, Fox’s issues continued.  At times his problems flared up and at times he seemed fine.  Fox had further workup by a second vet during one of his occasional crises.  More x-rays and tests.  This vet felt that his issue was centered on his cervical spine.

Each time Fox was seen by a new vet the diagnosis changed but mostly centered on some part of his spine.  Tests showed nothing conclusive and Fox continued with intermittent pain in various body parts (neck, front legs, back legs, hips).  As a result Fox spends much of his time on varying combinations of pain meds. 

Then a couple years ago Fox had an episode where he developed bald patches that looked like hot spots.  First he got them on his butt cheeks.  When those healed up a bit he got one on his front shoulder.  Hair grew back on one butt cheek but his shoulder and the other butt cheek continue hairless to this day.  The skin in those areas is alternately clean and dry or red, weepy and scabby.  Sometimes Fox chews at them, and other times he takes no note.

Shortly after this occurrence Fox began to experience abnormal swelling in his feet.  Sometimes all feet were involved and sometimes varying combinations.  Sometimes they would swell enough that the skin split and he’d bleed.  After courses of steroids the issue would resolve for a few months and then start over again.  The swelling eventually started creeping up his legs so that now when he swells it’s the whole leg and foot.

Fox's elbow wound

At some point the hair on his feet began to fall out.  The skin on his feet is frequently hot and red.  We joke that his feet look like the feet of a naked mole rat (Google that one).  When his feet did swell up they would be so painful that he couldn’t bear people touching them.  After a number of flare ups Fox was taken to see his current vet for another work up.

Her initial diagnosis was some sort of auto-immune disease.  She wasn’t sure which one but it made sense given his pattern of flare ups.  Grammy and I suspected Systemic Lupus Erythematosus (SLE) but Dr. Amy did not feel like Fox’s symptoms really matched that illness.

The problem was that Fox’s symptoms didn’t really fit any other auto-immune diseases either.  Fox improved after each flare up with steroids, pain meds and sometimes antibiotics.  Then Fox began to have difficulty standing.  Fox had always been a bit unsteady due to the odd pains that seemed to come and go but now he got downright wobbly.  He was off balance and frequently caught himself just before he fell over.  But Fox always soldiers on and he accepted this new issue with grace.  He continued using the stairs, going in and out by himself (most of the time) and getting up and down from his bed. 

Fox's toe wound

Fox had a serious crisis on Christmas day 2013.  We were scared that our time with him had come to an end.  He was given a large dose of steroids and antibiotics.  He spent 24 hours on IV fluids.  When he came home the steroids he took gave him incontinence and a corresponding unquenchable thirst.

He began to lose weight.  Fox has always loved his food but now he has begun to spend all his time desperately hungry and thirsty.  The more he ate and drank, the more he wanted to.  The more he ate and drank, the more weight he lost.  When he came home from the vet the day after Christmas, he had developed a large open weeping sore on his right front elbow.  It was so large and deep that fascia and bone were visible.

We begged Dr. Amy for an answer.  She dug in and after a lot of research she gave us the diagnosis of Alabama Rot. 

Alabama Rot is a disease that most greyhound owners have probably vaguely heard of but have no idea what it is.  That was certainly the case with us.  It first appeared at Alabama greyhound racetracks.  Medically very little is known about the disease.  It is thought to be the equivalent of hemolytic uremic syndrome in humans.  It is also called cutaneous and glomerular vasculopathy.  There is no known cure for it. 

Initially there wasn’t much to offer for treatment.  Management and monitoring of the symptoms was PentoxifyLLI (400 mg) but so far it doesn’t seem to be much help. 

Charlie bandaging Fox's foot

essentially it.  These days they are trying a drug used to treat humans with the corresponding human version of Alabama Rot.  They are meeting with only small success in helping to manage the symptoms and extend the lives of dogs affected.  Fox was started on this drug which is called

No one knows what is causing Alabama Rot.  It is called idiopathic for that reason.  There appears to be quite a battle between breeders, track owners, retired greyhound owners and researchers as to whether or not Alabama Rot is caused by the type and quality of food fed to racing greyhounds.  Currently researchers feel the disease may be related to food poisoning and nasty cooties such as E. coli.  This seems to be how humans get the human version.  There are an equal number of researchers who don’t believe there is any relation between these bacteria and Alabama Rot.

About 25-30% of Alabama Rot cases move into the kidneys and eventually cause kidney failure.  Even if it does not move into the kidneys, it still tends to shorten the life (and diminish the quality of life) of any dog that contracts it.  We are lucky that as of now, Fox’s kidneys are not affected.

For now, Fox continues on his steroids and pain meds.  He has some continued incontinence.  Though Grammy feeds Fox constantly and has more than doubled his food intake he has gone from 75 pounds down to 61 pounds.  Since he hasn’t been weighed in a couple weeks, we can’t swear to it, but it looks like maybe he has reached a plateau on the weight loss and is currently holding his own. 

Our sweet boy will be 12 in June

His elbow sore has not healed and recently after a fall on the ice in the back yard due to his wobbliness, it was exacerbated.  He has also developed a terrible open sore on his right rear foot that may have started out as a corn but which has become a hot mess.  Fox continues to lose hair in various places.  He still swells up intermittently and sometimes he has some bruising.  It has been a very tough winter for Fox.

At the last check up with Dr. Amy, she told Grammy the thing that no one ever wants to hear…that we may soon be reaching the time where the kindest thing to do will be to let him join our Girly Girl.  It’s very hard to hear since his eyes remain bright, lively and very engaged in this world.  He wobbles like a Weeble (dating myself, I know-some of you may have to Google that), but he still walks.  He goes up and down the stairs unaided.  He has never met a morsel of food that he didn’t like and he is still full of love for his family.  There is no indication that his brain and soul are ready to give up but his poor body is rotting away all around him.

We’re all holding our breath in hopes we get to celebrate his 12^th birthday with him in June.  We have already decided there will be a party that day to honor a life well lived.  We also hope that by sharing his story it may help someone else recognize this generally unfamiliar disease far sooner than we did.

Dog Days

A chunk of the extended greyhound family convened recently to attend an annual event called Dogs Days of August. L.L. Bean, an outdoor sporting/home goods store hosts the event. All sorts of rescues have tents. There are demos, contests and activities. Bean’s foots the cost of the event and all the activities are free. It is always well attended.

This year, Blue, Bettina and I went with our friend Carol (a.k.a. Auntie Carol) and her greyhound Melissa (a.k.a. Mims). We met up with Grammy, Charlie and one of their hounds Crandall at Beans. The greyhounds were well represented with our pack and a few other greyhound people we ran into but there were hundreds of dogs there of all breeds. Carol and I spent our first half hour or so touring the booths and signing up for our favored activities. We watched search and rescue demos. We chatted with people curious about greyhounds. We chatted with other dog owners. We watched the contests for best bark, best kiss and best trick.


Bettina (a.k.a. Chatty Cathy)

It came time for Blue, Bettina and I to visit the animal communicator. She started with Blue since he had already shouldered his way up to lean on her and put his head in her lap. With Blue there were no surprises. He’s happy, he loves to run, he feels a little arthritis sometimes and he loves coming to these social events. Then Bettina gets the communicator’s “ear” and she starts talking. And talking. And talking. There were several times the communicator looked up at me and said, “I’ve never had a dog say this before…”

Bettina wanted me to know she was here to get me out of my shell. She requested that I spend more of my valuable time giving her massages. And not just mere massages, but real deep tissue massage please mumma. She said she wanted to go everywhere I went and did not expect to be left behind when I went out. She liked and approved of the various greyhound tchotchkes that I have collected since beginning my journey with the breed and she suggested that I might expand my collection. She felt the addition of a clock that said “woof” on the face should be my next acquisition. Oh yeah, and she determined that I needed to get and wear a cat’s eye ring. I just wish she hadn’t been so vague about what she wanted. The communicator was also able to reach Girly Girl who confirmed she had sent me Bettina and that she would send me other dogs along the way. Dear lord will they all be like Bettina? Girly Girl is a guide for me. She let us know that she has a special attachment to the painting of her that my mother gave me the first Christmas after we lost GG.


After the photo session

Our portrait session was next. Try as I might, I couldn’t get Blue and Bettina to stand together. As I wrestled with them they both turned their heads in opposite directions. Despite the fact that I have taken literally thousands of photos of them and this is not remotely a new experience they steadfastly refused to look at the camera. No treat or squeaky toy could convince them to look. I even had the photographer and her assistant meowing like cats while two greyhounds yawned and watched the small crowd that had accumulated to watch the show.

In desperation I smooshed their heads together and quickly jumped out of the picture while moving my hands out of the way. The photographer snapped a quick photo that, with some Photoshop work might look reasonably good. Immediately after we agreed to let that photo stand as our portrait, Blue and Bettina laid down in front of the backdrop. They cozied up together so photogenic and then refused to move when the frustrated photographer asked that I clear the scene because we were blowing a hole in her schedule.


Blue shamelessly works Auntie Carol

After Carol had Melissa’s portrait made, we went with Grammy, Charlie and Crandall for a nice lunch at the outdoor café. We shared the results of our adventures including Bettina’s harangue of the animal communicator. Grammy is of the definite opinion that Bettina is yanking my chain with each session we participate in. It seems that each time she makes some bizarre requests like purple toe nails, cheddar cheese, purple coat and collar, greyhound tchotchkes and a woof clock and cats eye ring. Each time I run around fulfilling the requests, the next one gets even stranger. A cat’s eye ring?

We ended the day sharing some of the new Muddy Bean Boot ice cream with the hounds. A lovely day it was. Bettina capped it off on the way back to the car by stopping to poop right in front of a food cart with ten people standing in line waiting to order their lunches. I cleaned it up as they all watched with nauseated looks on their faces. The only place to throw it out was the garbage can right next to the cart. Bon Apetit!

We Have Cancer

She has osteosarcoma. That is the scariest and loneliest thing I have ever been told. Girly Girl is now facing a terrible disease with an end game that is, at best, dismal. We have cancer. Except it didn’t take me very long to learn that we were anything but alone. And that it wasn’t just Girly Girl, Blue and I who were facing this. There were so many resources out there just waiting to lend us their knowledge, strength, shoulders, ears, experience, hugs, encouragement and support. In the darkest moments, when things seemed most hopeless, so many heroes have appeared and pointed the way.


Family: Grammy and Charlie provided a safe haven for Blue when I had to take Girly Girl to appointments and procedures. They took care of Girly Girl with the tenderest care in order to allow mumma some time off with friends every now and again. They spoiled both Blue and Girly Girl. They understood how Blue and Girly Girl are my children. They let me cry and cried with me.

Friends: They also understood that Blue and Girly Girl are my children and never once behaved any differently. They checked on me and Girly Girl constantly and let me know they were there for me, whatever I needed. They let me cry and cried with me.

My Meet and Greet Family: They formed a tight circle around Girly Girl, Blue and I. They checked on us daily and sent us encouraging and supporting emails. They offered their service, their knowledge, their resources and even offered to pool funds to help us pay for Girly Girl’s treatment. They let me cry and they cried with me.

My Facebook and Twitter Friends: They offered their support and encouragement. Many offered their experience which was invaluable in figuring out what to do and what not to do next.

Work: My bosses (who I am also blessed to have had as friends before they became my bosses) also miraculously understand that Girly Girl and Blue are my children and have allowed me the time I’ve needed to bring Girly Girl to her appointments and procedures. They never hesitated once. From the minute I told them of the diagnosis, they told me to take the time I needed and to do what I needed to do and they are still telling me the same thing.

The Animal House: Our favorite pet supply store. Aubrey and Dan Martin who own and operate this store believe in a holistic approach to pet care. We have considered them friends and mentors ever since we met them. They have provided us with all their knowledge regarding nutrition and supplements for cancer patients as well as their experience and support.

Help Your Dog Fight Cancer: A book recommended by Aubrey at The Animal House. This was written by Laurie Kaplan. It was the only book we could find on the subject and turned out to be a wonderful resource. It wasn’t osteosarcoma specific but well worth the read nonetheless.

Grey Talk: A group of greyhound fanatics who have found a home on the web. There are all sorts of forums in this community including Greyhound Health. The people in this community are, without a doubt, unsung heroes. Anyone posting a thread about their hound’s health issue can count on immediate feedback with support and shared experience. They are there 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You are NEVER alone.

Dr. Laura Edelbaum: Our family vet. We love her. She is allopathic but has an interest in Traditional Chinese Medicine and has a working knowledge of supplements as well. When we first went to her regarding Girly Girl’s limp, she felt it was orthopedic given the signs. But she was willing to consider my concerns and set up the x-rays that revealed the tumor earlier than we may have otherwise discovered it.

Dr. Guillermo Couto: We had heard Dr. Couto speak at the Raynham Adoption Expo so we knew to reach out to him, but even if we had not, so many people in the greater greyhound community directed us towards him, it would have been hard not to end up at his doorstep. This is another unsung hero. Here is a doctor who heads a very busy Greyhound Health and Wellness Program at Ohio State University. He spends time volunteering at a greyhound rescue clinic in Spain, he does research and he is willing to consult, for free, on the cancer cases of retired racing greyhounds. He responded to our numerous emails quickly, even when he was out on vacation. Not only that, he took the time to give us some words of encouragement and support along the way.

Dr. Erin Romansik, NEVOG: When our local surgeons were unwilling to work with us regarding my wishes for Girly Girl’s care and were unwilling to even speak with Dr. Couto’s colleagues at OSU, we were at a loss as to where to go next. There weren’t a lot of options here in Maine. Dr. Couto suggested the New England Veterinary Oncology Group in Waltham MA. We saw Dr. Erin Romansik and he was wonderful. When the Fine Needle Aspirate he attempted was unsuccessful, he worked with us on the next step.

Dr. Karen Pastor, Massachusetts Veterinary Referral Hospital: Dr. Romansik referred us to Dr. Pastor and we were again in very good hands. Dr. Pastor, a surgeon, consulted with us about doing a biopsy but in the end, after a day spent there, we ended up doing a different procedure. We now await the pathology results and the next steps. Not only did Dr. Pastor make it clear she cared about Girly Girl but when she learned that Girly Girl is my heart dog, she took time to show me a photo of her “soul mate dog.” A beautiful, giant, harlequin Great Dane. The 5x7 photo sits framed on the counter in the examining room among the many photos from her patients.

So though sometimes it feels pretty lonely, with a team of heroes like this behind us, we’ll continue to fight. You see “we” have cancer.