Wordless Wednesday - Hey Baby, Hows About a Little Snog?

Button, Button, Who’s Got the Button?

Turns out, we did.  Blue, the lumpiest of greyhounds ever, turned up recently with a brand new bump on the inside of his left thigh.  It started out looking like a red spot, then rose a little bit until it looked like a bug bite.  It went from bug bite to zit and finally to a dime sized mountain with a red dot in the center. 

Meet Blue's Histiocytoma.  It was well into dime sized mountain
phase in this photo.

For those of you who don’t already know, Blue gets hemangiomas.  These are like blood blisters that randomly turn up on various parts of his body.  They look like a dark spot in a place it wasn’t before.  They swell up a bit and are clearly full of blood.  Eventually, if not aided earlier, they pop.  The spot heals up and everyone moves on.  We went so far as having a couple of them removed and sent for review by the pathologists.  Hemangiomas, while having a super scary name, are not cancerous. 

I spent the red spot, raised bug bite, zit and dime sized mountain phases of this latest bump praying it was just a hemangioma that didn’t get the memo about how those are supposed to look.  But at dime sized mountain, I couldn’t hang out in denial any longer.  I made an appointment with Dr. Amy.

Blue has warts and cysts in various places but this bump looked and felt nothing like those.  And the speed of its growth and change was so fast the big “C” word was knocking at the door to the room which holds my panic button.  Every time I find a new bump on Blue and have Dr. Amy examine it, she tells me the most

Crandall's Button Tumor.  (Excuse the ancient iPhone fuzzy photo)

concerning thing about a bump is if it changes appearance.  Blue’s bump was changing like a mother.

Dr. Amy took a look at our bump one Saturday morning and asked to do an aspiration of it which we immediately agreed to.  Well, I immediately agreed to it, I don’t know that Blue was that excited about it, but he tolerated it like a trooper.  Dr. Amy took a look at the cells she found and was back shortly with the news.

Blue’s strange new bump was a histiocytoma, also known as a button tumor.  We were given the good news that we had dodged the bullet again as these are not cancerous.  The term histiocytoma was not unknown to us because a number of months ago, Grammy’s hound Crandall had one on his front foot. Crandall’s looked like a textbook button tumor.  Blue’s was not quite as textbook but Dr. Amy said there was no mistaking the unique cell structure which she found in the aspirate.

DO NOT ask me how close to Blue's business end I had to get
for this photo.  

According to the Veterinary Partners article that Dr. Amy gave us on button tumors, they typically strike young dogs (2 years old or younger).  In both Blue and Crandall’s case, they were well over that age.  Generally histiocytomas form on the front half of the body.  In Crandall’s case this was true.  In Blue’s case, it was not.  Histiocytomas can look like other skin problems that are cancerous (such as melanoma) so it is always a good idea to have it checked.

And just like the article said, histiocytomas typically resolve themselves without the need for intervention.  Crandall’s tumor had completely disappeared within a couple weeks of his visit to Dr. Amy and true to form Blue’s disappeared in roughly the same time frame.  You would never know now that either dog ever had such a tumor.   

Is It...(Gulp)...NEW?

Pillow has reached "yesterday's news" status.
When Mumma throws this away, Blue will
hold it against me.

We have an odd dynamic in our house with respect to “new” things.  A new thing is defined as anything that has not existed in the house or car since the beginning of greyhound time.   When we’re out and about, it is apparently expected that we will frequently encounter new things and thus, in that context it is OK.  If it happens in the safe zone (house or car) luckily for us there seems to be an established protocol for dealing with such horrors.

When a new thing arrives in the safe zone, let’s say for example, a dog bed, it is an object of great concern.  One might get close enough to it for a quick sniff and then remove oneself to a safe distance to ponder the smell.  If passing by said new object, one gives it a wide berth.  You never know if the new object might reach out and bite you.  Better safe than sorry as the old adage goes.

After a period of time observing the new thing and with careful consultation amongst the canine residents of the safe zone, someone is elected to investigate more closely.  The electee then gets a little closer to the new thing, and, in the case of our example dog bed, would step on it and jump right back off.  Electee reports back to group as a whole. 

TSA (Crandall), an inherent cowboy.

Sometimes a canine goes cowboy and without consultation or election, throws themselves on the hand grenade and gives the new thing a thorough going over.  The cowboy might actually lie down on our example bed and finding it comfortable and to their liking, may even opt to remain on the bed.

Assuming the electee is not eaten, then the rest of the group will consider it safe enough to also investigate the new thing more thoroughly.  After this, the new thing experiences a metamorphosis from scary new object, to coveted object.  There follows a running battle to be the one who gets to use the new thing.  With our example dog bed, that means a free for all to be the one to lie on the new bed.

There are, as always, exceptions to any rule.  Some dogs are inherent cowboys.  Grammy’s hound Crandall is this sort.  He never met a new thing he didn’t want to stick his head in and see what’s going on.  We call him TSA because he insists on inspecting every bag he ever encounters.

Some dogs are Rain Men.  For them it’s always boxers and not briefs.  Nothing new is acceptable.  If you bring in a new thing, it remains suspect for all time.  Grammy’s hound Fox, and to some extent Blue are examples of this. 

After a period of time (the length of which is a complete mystery to Mumma), the new thing goes from coveted object, to yesterday’s news.  Then no one really cares about it and if someone happens to use it, no one gives it a passing thought.  That is until you remove it and replace it with something else new.  Then it becomes enshrined in memory as that shining golden, most favoritist thing that Mumma took away, ruining lives in the process.  

Wordless Wednesday - No Means No

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!

I'm This Many....

Today is Bettina's birthday!  The big THREE.

 

Birthday girl!


 
 

Bettina with her cousins, Fox and Crandall






 




 

Ummm...what's that thing on your head?


 

A birthday pumpkin muffin








Muffins for everybody!  (Fox and Blue)

   

Muffin drunk








Be It Ever So Humble, There's No Place Like Grammy's

My astrological sign is Cancer. One major characteristic of Cancers is that we are homebodies. It’s not easy to pry us out of our homes for any significant length of time. For me, the best part of traveling is coming back home.  Recently, I had to go on a trip for work. I went to California for a trade show. Given the things that have been happening with the Girly Girl lately, I was torn about leaving them and flying across the country. Luckily, we have Grammy to take care of my babies while I am away. Blue and Girly Girl absolutely adore Grammy. Grammy feels mutually about Girly Girl and with Blue, well, I think he may be growing on her. Let’s just say the jury is still out. It all stems from the very first time that Blue had a sleep-over at Grammy’s house. He apparently growled at Grammy when she went near him. This is very out of character for Blue. He hasn’t ever done this to me, or in my presence. He’s known in the greyhound circles as a love bug. He’s never done it to Grammy again either. But he’s a big boy and it unnerved Grammy a bit. So she’s stand-offish when it comes Blue.

Nonetheless Grammy has put aside her initial impressions of the big white stink bug and my babies get to stay with her instead of in a crate in a kennel. They have people caring for them who love them and with whom they are comfortable. They have a lovely fenced in back yard and their two greyhound cousins to hang out and run with. Knowing that they would have that, I could go away feeling as good as it was possible to feel about going away from my four-legged children. It wasn’t long after I left that the first email from Grammy arrived…

“Well, they settled in with not a whine it seems (other than the standard) and I have to tell you that GG is eating like a sailor. This morning we had a run-in the boys and I. Blue went for Fox’s food and took it away and wouldn’t listen to me so I had to physically lift him up and out of the room away from Fox’s food. Then when I fed Crandall he wolfed it down so when I put GG’s and Blue’s down Crandall went in for GG’s and for the first time I swatted him..he jumped a foot. No one was listening to me so I began bellowing and oh my they listened then. Guess GG thought better eat, the woman’s crazy because she began to wolf down everything, applesauce, yogurt, dog food as if she hadn’t been fed in years. Every other dog went running so I had to call Blue back to eat his. Had to give Fox more because Blue got half of it down before I could get him out.”

I let Grammy know that while Girly Girl was immune to yelling (she had figured out I was all bluster years ago and just stands there looking at me as if to say, “are you all done now?”), Blue takes any yelling personally and runs for his crate. I could be yelling at the TV and if I have raised my voice to much, Blue heads for the crate. If I stub my toe or bang a body part and I’m just yelling Ow! Ow! Ow! There goes Blue. So Blue should be easily reprimanded. I was surprised to receive the next email:

“Blue is not responding to me the same way he does to you. He stands there and looks at me as if saying…’that’s all you got?’ [At] 1 a.m. Charlie comes to bed but first lets them out one more time. Suddenly I am rudely awakened by this 500 lb animal (felt like it at least) jumping on the bed…I look up and he is standing over me…opens his mouth and gives me a few dragon breath licks. Lays down right between Charlie and I with his head on the pillows. No moving him…it’s not mama’s bed, he’s allowed…so we let him. Not bad sleeping with him except eventually he ran a few races on my back.”

I suggested that Grammy try pushing Blue off the bed or using a squirt bottle of water on him. He can be stubborn about the bed because I have spoiled him by getting him his own bed whenever we stay in a hotel. But he isn’t allowed on the bed at home. So he maximizes his bed usage whenever we are in a hotel (or apparently, what he deems ‘away from home’). That resulted in the next e-missive:

“OK, yelling doesn’t work, pushing doesn’t work, pulling doesn’t work…any other ideas? He lays on my pillows and won’t get down, even with Charlie and I both pulling and yelling and pushing (not all at the same time), he just looks at us and digs in his feet. If we do accomplish any movement he readjusts himself and lays back down. We finally lifted him off the bed and I gave Charlie a water bottle to use on him. I wouldn’t mind the bed but he likes to put his ass on my pillows and considering his inability to miss his own body when he urinates I am not big on having it on my pillow… I doubt the water thing will work though, he stood at the counter with his nose in my business while I was trying to fix lunch for work and I took some water and flicked it at him…he just blinked and looked at me. Where did you leave the sensitive Blue?”

What can I say; he does pee all over his legs. It’s true. I carry baby wipes in the car, in my purse and they are by the door at home to clean his feet and legs after each potty session. So as a last resort I suggested that Grammy give him a light swat since it would be a novel occurrence, it wouldn’t hurt him but would surprise him and might even get his attention. Now before I get angry letters from animal lovers everywhere, I’m not advocating violence against my four legged child. I’m talking just a little tap to get his attention. The next day the following email arrived:

“OK the excitement and confusion of the first night has ended and things are working themselves out. Crandall has established with Blue that he will not take any sh** from him and Blue has established with Crandall that he could care less. Last night Blue behaved himself until at 2 a.m. he was at the bed crying so I let him up but that was a major step since he never asked before, just jumped, so he has recognized that this isn’t a hotel bed but belongs to the two alphas in the house. GG went to sleep with me on the bed and Blue woke up with me.”

Everything would have ended in Grammy’s house bliss had I been able to get home when I was supposed to but as it turned out I was a victim of March storms that tied up the nation’s air traffic for days. I was delayed returning home for more than 24 hours. During that time, I get the next email:

“…You have got to do some training with Blue darlin’, he is impossible to move. Voice commands, growls, clawed hand, pulls, pushes, yelling and even one little smack to the butt would not move him and even when he did move he jumped right back up on the bed. All night long we had a battle royale. I would push him off with my feet and he would come back around and jump back up, and as if to punish me would stand over me breathing in my face. GG always asks permission, he seems to feel it is his right.”

After a night in JFK, delays, missed connections, and the last available seat on an airplane bound for Portland Maine for the next two days, I was finally on the runway waiting in a long line to take off. I sent Grammy one last email to let her know I was, barring divine intervention, going to make it home at last. Grammy’s final email arrived before we made it to taxi for take-off:

“Ohhh your kids are going to be so excited!! Listen there is NO WAY that Blue is not an alpha dog. The only difference is that either he is brilliant or totally retarded. He goes for their food, Crandall snarls and snaps and he ignores them and eats it anyway. He wants our bed and no matter what we do he gets on and stays. He wants to lay down, he lays on top of whomever is there. Fox was all over him with snarling and yet he just laid down on top of Fox and wouldn’t move so Fox gave up and let him have it and guess where he was this morning? Inside Crandall’s crate…the inner sanctum that even Fox dares not enter. Crandall was laying outside on the floor giving me the skunk eye. Submissive? Rigghttt.”

Needless to say, Grammy was happy to see the backside of the four-legged grandkids when I came to pick them up. They were very excited to see mumma and that made me feel about as good as it is possible to feel and still be legal. As a Cancer, I’ve always loved coming home after a trip but now that Girly Girl and Blue are waiting for me when I get there, I wonder why I left at all. As for Blue, I think maybe Grammy was stretching it a bit. Blue behaves just fine for me. If I ask him to get off the bed, he does. If I ask him to step away from his food bowl, he does. I’m sure she’ll say it is all true but then, she’s a writer and leave it to a writer to make a big deal out of such a small event.