Things I learned from my geriatric dog....

Otis was our SUPER geriatric, deaf, blind, kinda senile, not ultra bright dachshund and he had been our loyal companion for over 13 years after we adopted him as a rescue. At 20+ years old he passed. In those last couple of years, he didn't do much of anything, and he smelled kinda funny, but he was ours and we wouldn't have had him any other way. We loved him for everything that he was and we still do. And despite the fact that he was as bright as a burned out light bulb, there were quite a few important things I learned from him. I've compiled a list of some of them:

1.) Pee when you gotta pee, poop when you gotta poop, fart when you gotta fart, burp when you gotta burp. Life's short. The people who love you should love you no matter what you do anyway. Everybody pees, poops, farts and burps. It shouldn't matter to the people that matter most that you do too.

2.) When you take a nap or make sleepy times, make sure you do it well. Make sure you're in the most comfortable position, drool on yourself, snore open mouthed, and dream well. Dreams are probably the only way you're going to be able to do some of the things you want to when you aren't able to or just can't do any more.

3.) Nom your food like it's the nommiest thing you've ever eaten. Enjoy every bite and eat until you're full.

4.) Find a sunshine-y spot and roll around in it and lie down in it. Take time to enjoy the little things in life that bring you a happy moment no matter how small.

5.) Take the time to enjoy the moments you have with your family and friends and let them really know that you love them and that you really enjoy their company. Make sure they really feel how much you appreciate them, even if you may not have the words to tell them. If you really mean it, they'll know without you ever saying a word.

6.) Bark at the people you don't like and let them know exactly how you feel. No use taking that in and holding on to it. Speak your mind, then let it go, and forget about it. Then, just move along and go back about your business.

7.) Happiness CAN be as simple as a warm blanket to curl up in on a rainy day.

8.) When you go outside, make sure you take in a lot of deep breaths of fresh air. It does a lot of good to clear the cobwebs inside your head sometimes. It helps air out the place...

9.) There's nothing wrong with taking a moment "to think" and make everyone around you wonder what the hell you're thinking about. Sometimes, just taking a moment for yourself and spacing out isn't such a terrible thing.

10.) Being tired happens, but make sure you take the time to acknowledge someone when they come to you and you realize they're there, even when you're fast asleep.

11.) It's okay that sometimes you have to get carried to go somewhere. At least you know you can count on people to help you get to where you have to go. Having people you can depend on is a blessing. Having people to lend you a hand when they know you need it most, even though you didn't ask for it, is awesome.

12.) Live a long life even though you've probably lived WAY passed your "usefulness". There are probably those whom you mean the world to. Everyday is another special gift you can give to them. And in those days, make sure to do as many of all these things listed here as possible. There should never be any regrets about the things you hadn't done in life, especially when the list can be kept so simple.

Thanks for these and many other important life lessons old man. You were the greatest dog in the world and I love you and miss you so much. Now... Good dog. Sleep.

Paw prints on our hearts....

I've blogged about Lulu in the past. A sweet chocolate lab that lived down the street from us. The kids and I would visit her often and play out in the yard with her because she was just a cool dog to hang out with. The youngest of the brood used to take naps on the dog bed alongside Lulu. The dog never minded sharing her bed. She'd lay there patiently until the baby woke up so that they could play again. She moved away recently and it kind of broke my heart. And with the recent loss of Otis, it was kind of a devastating blow to be, essentially, losing another dog.

It's no big secret that I like animals more than I like people. I'm not a real fan of people. I am that one weirdo who, at a social gathering, will find the family pet and will hang out with said pet. I will love  and pet all the animals in the household, just to avoid people if I can. Yup. I'm THAT guy. I don't think that it necessarily makes me socially awkward or strange, but yeah. I'm THAT guy.

I thought about all the goggies I have met and have touched my life. All the time I spent on the floor or the ground loving on my pets or other people's pets and on the one hand, it totally crushes my happiness and makes me want to curl up into a little ball and cry forever. On the other, it just brings me such a sense of peace and YAY-ness because of moments that I shared with another living thing that didn't judge me or do much else then to share love with no strings attached.

Don't take those moments for granted. Savor and enjoy them. When they're gone, you really DO start to miss them. A lot. Trust me.

Just keep going.....

Some of the best advice I ever got was from my dog. Well, sort of....

As he aged, he became feeble and clumsy. Blindness and deafness didn't help him much either. But he kept chugging along. I mean, in the end, he lost his battle, but he lived a noble life and died a noble death. He went until he just couldn't any more. And honestly? At twenty years old, he didn't owe any one of us any favors anyway. I mean, in human years, that would have made him well over a hundred years old. But he never gave up. He gave a great fight until the fight was all spent up. He didn't give up any of it at all. Everything he did, he did to the fullest. Granted, the last ten years, the things he did were eat, sleep, make potty and fart. But regardless, he did them all very well and he enjoyed the fuck out of doing them. Sometimes, he fell off his bed when he was sleeping. Sometimes, he'd end up peeing on himself or stepping in the healthy pile of the shit he took. Sometimes, his gas offended even him and he would have to relocate from his favorite comfy spot to go find another. Sometimes, he didn't get as many nommy treats as he would have wanted. But he kept moving right along. A serious back injury didn't stop him either. Blindness, deafness, old age, arthritis. All came with harsh effects, but none stopped him. He just kept right on going.

I think it's a rather important thing that I should take something from watching him all these many years.  When I say"he didn't give up anything" he really didn't. In his end, he even gave us an incredible rally that I really believe to be nothing short of miraculous. It was a short lived rally, but Otis made sure that every last bit of what was keeping him going was spent up to the last drop. And when he went, it was when he had nothing more to give back. That was it. It was all used up and completely spent. And that, to me, is the way I'd like to be and the way I'd like to go out, despite all the obstacles that I have to face or whatever. But just remembering to keeping driving forward and not lose the fight in me.

Otis has been gone for two months and three days now. I still think about him quite often. His blanket and pillow are still set up on the floor by my bed. It's the last of his things, but I just haven't the heart to put them away quite yet. It's strange how, sometimes, late at night, when I'm feeling a little low and can't sleep, I can hear the distinct sound of the tags on his collar, like he was shifting his position on his pillow. Him letting me know that he comes around to check up on me and that in some way, he's still here with me, making sure that I didn't forget any of the lessons he had taught me over the years.

Thanks buddy. I needed that. I'm good now. You rock!

1/3/13 11:15 AM

After a long battle with, well.... old age, our dog Otis passed quietly in my arms yesterday morning at 11:13.

Otis started to fall apart, as any 20+ year old dog might do, right before Christmas. It seemed to me, that because he still had the fight of a hundred dogs left in him at that time (my wishful thinking perhaps), I took him to the vets' office and begged them to fix him so that we could have him for the holidays. I sat on the floor of the vets' office sobbing as I begged our beloved pooch to promise to rally at least through the holidays.

And lo and behold, after medications of all sorts and a series of subcutaneous fluid injections over a series of doctor visits over a few days in a row and all the while, at home, giving him a special diet that had me spoon feeding him 6-10 small meals a day and meds to be given every few hours and some sleepless nights and a whole lot of carpet cleaning every day, Otis made an unbelievable comeback for us for the holidays. Eating, drinking, peeing, pooping, not vomiting everywhere and walking around to where he wanted to go, sometimes even prancing. We were so grateful for the extra time we got with our old man. We received nothing short of a Christmas miracle considering how grave his condition was just a few days prior. And through the week of Christmas to New Years Day, he was almost his old self.

As the days passed during that week, despite the fact that I knew somewhere WAY in the back of my mind that this rally would be short lived, I denied the fact that I would end up having to say goodbye to Otis sooner rather than later. My denial had me thinking that he would still live forever and that we could go on fighting forward like this forever. I know.... It's childish, but I really don't care what you think of it. He was Otis. So, hope beyond hope, wish beyond wish, we continued on, grateful for every day he gave us.

After New Years Day passed, his systems failed completely, almost overnight. He stopped drinking, he stopped walking, he stopped trying, although being a food hound, he did manage to lap up a small bowl of canned food mashed with chicken broth his last morning. A couple of tablespoons, at most. I wanted to see it as progress. He didn't bother getting up, so I spoon fed it to him, but he seemed to appreciate it. Then, he lay his head back down and took a short nap. I thought he might be showing me another rally, but alas, that was not the case. He awoke a short while later, trying desperately to get up yelping in pain and then collapsed. I knew.

He didn't fight me when I wrapped him up in his favorite blanket, although he whined and winced in pain from time to time. He didn't fight me when picked him up off the floor, save for a little yelp to let me know of his discomfort. He didn't fight me when I put him in the car. He didn't fight me when I walked inside the V-E-T 's office. Even though I (for selfish reasons, I know) was taking him in to beg the vet to fix him up again, I knew what he was trying to tell me. He was letting me know that he had no more fight left in him. At this point, after 20+ years on the plantet, I knew that he really didn't owe me any more favors. I did. But, I stayed in that denial place a little longer anyway, hoping that they could help him out again. But I still knew.  I knew that he had lived a spectacularly long life and when all things were said and done, I knew that he had fulfilled his one final promise to me: One last rally through the holidays. He did that in spades.

After a brief conversation with the vet about his absolute certainty that hope was lost (Possible stroke? But, regardless, his systems were shutting down on him hard and fast), I had a long conversation with Otis as I sat with him on my lap on the floor in a private room. My fears, my sadness, my selfish reasons to keep him around had to be put aside and I took a good look at this broken, old, dog wrapped in his favorite fluffy blanket, in my arms as he slept and occasionally whined in pain. I sat on a cold, hard, tile floor with him and I begged him to give me an indication that he might be okay and that he would rally again. I sobbed and kept begging. He looked up at me briefly through his cloudy eyes and he licked my hand with the tip of his tongue just once and fell back to sleep again.  I understood. And then I promised him that I would see him through to his end. My one final promise to him.

His passing was quiet and quick. He didn't fight at all, and all the while, through everything, I held him and assured him, "I gotcha buddy. I'm here.... I love you......" even after he was gone. I'm not really sure how long I sat there on the floor like that with him. I wasn't even aware that the vet and the aide had left the room, but some time later, I was being handed a box of tissues. I continued to sit on the floor, as I rocked him and kept whispering in his ear for a while afterwards. So many secrets I had told him over the years. And a few more I told him then. Always kept safe. And forever would be. The vets didn't seem to mind while I sat there and were very understanding and kind.

My heart is heavy and it feels like I am about to shatter into millions of tiny pieces. I guess that's normal when you lose a very good friend and a very loved family member. I guess that my lala land belief that he's up in "Doggie Heaven" brings me an iota of comfort. He's running and jumping and playing and chasing things, with his body, young and new. He's eating all sorts of nommy things and crayons (I never understood his cravings for crayons....), with a mouthful of clean teeth. He goes when he needs to go and does what he pleases, remembering all of us and how much we love him, and forgetting that in his end, he was an old and tired, mostly deaf, somewhat blind dog with no teeth, a bad back, arthritis everywhere, and was falling apart as his systems continued to shut down. My beliefs are that he knows not pain nor fear nor sadness and only knows that he is happy and loved and has a warm fluffy bed to sleep in and a warm fluffy blanket to sleep under and everywhere is a happy sunshine spot to roll around in before taking a nap in and that his every happiness is right there for him.

My Otis....
I'll miss you terribly, my stinky dog. Know that I'll be thinking of you in that happy place. I love you old man. Goodbye my dear friend. Good dog. Sleep.

Happy!

A little happy moment! Sometimes it's great to stop and take a few to celebrate one, even if it's not that big of a deal. It could be something as simple as a great cup of coffee or finding a twenty in the wash. Yup.... My geriatric dog taught me that. Yesterday, I watched him find a sunny spot on the floor and roll around in it for like a solid three minutes and fall asleep right there.

I think we forget to take time and be grateful and stuff for the little happy moments that we are blessed with because they aren't BIG events. Life really isn't about of series of big events though. It's really all about the little ones that lead up to the big ones.

Thanks Otis....

Otis, the Super Evil Genius?

I have often wondered what Otis does when he is left to his own devices. There have been times I thought to myself that maybe perhaps he's not as stupid as I think he is. What if it is the case that he's just pretending to be the idiot I believe him to be. Maybe perhaps he IS plotting to take over the world or something. Maybe this "Otis is stupid" thing is all just a ruse. Allowing us to be comfortable with the fact that he's an "idiot" so that we don't suspect him of anything and don't expect anything from him. It's the greatest alibi in the history of forever! He would be able to achieve world domination within a couple of years.... But then why hasn't he done it yet? He was probably waiting for the right time. If you think about it, the way the world is right now, it wouldn't be too hard for a super mega evil genius to topple governments, would it? Start destroying the bigger cities, leave the world in BIGGER chaos, taking over and reshaping the world in his own image, creating an evil empire.... Wait a second.... Never mind. He's eating a used tissue, got yelled at for it and beaned his head into the door jamb trying to make his escape out of the bathroom... I think the world is safe...


Or IS it?

He's an OLD dog...

Otis turned 18 years old this year. With that being said, the fact becomes blatantly clear. Otis is OLD. He's somewhat blind, he's arthritic, he's as deaf as a stump, as smart as a bag of rocks, he smells funny, he's missing a bunch of teeth and his breath could knock a buzzard off a rotting carcass. But he's ours. He's been a constant companion since I brought him home and his affections were unerring, his loyalties pretty firm. He knows where "home" is.
I know that there will come a day when I'll have to let my old friend go. I mean, for the time being, he's still spry, he's eating, drinking, peeing, pooping and as long as I keep him on meds, he's quite pain free. Other than the fact that stairs pose quite a challenge for him, as long as he has a blankie on the floor for him to vege out on, he's quite happy and for his advanced age, quite healthy. But I know that the day will come sooner rather than later. Even for an old dog, he's OLD by every standard.
Although my mind tells me what the realities are, my heart wants him to live forever. Then I look upon my children interacting with "their dog". They don't know life without him and for the younger ones especially, it's difficult to explain why he won't be around forever... And my heart breaks.
Otis has probably heard more of my kids' secrets, dreams, desires, sorrows and happy moments than any other living person or beast. It may have been that he wasn't really listening while the kids rambled on while they pet him and whispered things in his ear or maybe he was. I don't know. But the fact of the matter is, he will never betray those trusts that were given to him and the children know that. I pray that it will be a memory of Otis that my children will grow up with when they think upon Otis even many years from now.
I know he can't hear me now when I tell him I love him or when I thank him for being "Otis". I know he doesn't see me well enough to make out the words coming out of my mouth either. I can only hope that he feels loved and appreciated for being everything that he is to me and to my kids. For the time being, I watch my dog sleep, snoring away, snuggled in his "blanket nest" on the floor by my bed, perfectly content.
So, sleep well old man. I love you!  I hope you know that... Thank you for being the best Otis you can be. You have proven many times over that you are a very important part of our family. We love you.

Otis accidents....

Otis is getting older.... Fine he's ancient. He's an 18 year old Dachshund. He's partially blind, stone deaf and he leaks... He's become quite incontinent and I think a lot of the time, he doesn't even know that he's "going". It just kinda happens as he leaves trails instead of a pile or puddle... And it's never in an inconspicuous place. It's right in the middle of the hallway or something, right  where people walk. Sometimes, the people of the household don't notice the Otis leavings on the floor. (How many times do I have to explain, "Watch where you step!" to people....) The carpet cleaner has seen more use in the last couple of years than ever in its entire existence because the older Otis gets, the more he leaks out all sorts of stuff...
I can always tell when someone steps in something Otis left because I can hear it. It starts with the "Otis!" and ends with "Yuck! Gross! Awwww! My socks!!!!!" :sigh: Time to get the carpet cleaner again... I love my dog!

Technicolor Lawn!

Otis isn't exactly the brightest dog on the face of the planet. As a matter of fact, I will claim the opposite. As yet another shining example of his non-brilliance, his favorite things to eat are poop and crayons. He has more access to crayons as the kids like to leave them lying around all over the house. It leads to a very interesting result...
There really isn't a particular "place" he goes outside. Things just kinda.... fall out or leak. And because of the fact that he's Otis, he poops about 45 times a day. It's become a joke around here. "OMG! CALL CNN! OTIS IS POOPING!!!!!!!"
We have the most colorful lawn in the neighborhood, with its bright and happy chewed up crayon pieces mixed in poop...
Yeah.... Otis. That's my dog.

He's stupid, but he means well...

This story involves Otis, a baby and the UPS guy...
When my middle son was born and he came home from the hospital, Otis would not leave his side. If the baby was in the bouncy seat, Otis was right there. If the baby was in the bassinet, Otis was right there. If the baby was in the carrier, Otis was right there. If the baby was on the floor all lump like, Otis was right there. Otis was absolutely fascinated by the baby. To him, THAT was his. If the baby so much as made a squeak, Otis was running around like an idiot, making sure that the baby was okay. Diaper changes were supervised by him, feedings, naps, you name it.
When my son was about two months old, we were visiting with my parents. He was being all lump like on a big blanket on the floor of the TV room and Otis was on the blanket next to him. The doorbell rang. Quick as a flash, Otis was at the door. When I went to open it, there was the UPS guy doing his UPS thing, delivering packages and there was Otis, hackles raised barking away like a raving lunatic dog from hell. He ran back into the TV room and came back a few seconds later to resume his barkity barking. He repeated this process a couple more times as I signed for the package and apologized to the UPS guy. With the package put into the kitchen, I went to check on my son...
Entering the room, I saw quite a sight... Otis was peeing on the baby. Yuck! He had marked the whole perimeter of the blanket and then the baby himself. Then he lay down right next to my son, satisfied that he had done his job. I couldn't bring myself to yell at the dog... Everything was thrown into the wash, the baby got a thorough bath... Twice and Otis got a cookie. What was I going to do? He was just protecting "his puppy" from the evil UPS menace...

Idiot dog...

Stupid dogs have the life... I own one and I analyzed the ins and outs for him... Sure, he's stupid, but the reality is, he really doesn't know that he's missing out on anything. He gets fed, gets walked, gets attention, sleeps whenever he wants, there's always someone willing to give him a belly rub. He's warm, comfortable, loved and is never really in a want for anything and nothing is really expected from him because everyone knows that he is about as smart as a bag of rocks. His IQ is room temperature at best and it would be pointless to try and expect anything from him or try and change him. I've accepted him for what he is and I deal.
I've been trying to apply this philosophy to other aspects of my life. There are things that are far beyond my control, despite what I'd like to be happening, the opposite is occurring and there isn't a whole lot I can do about it. In trying to change those things, I come up empty handed, frustrated and having wasted a whole bunch of time and energy on something when it could have been invested usefully in something else.
I am still just a work in progress. I've accepted that about myself, but at least I'm doing something and I'm trying. I will continue to do so. In the meantime, there are still plenty of things that piss me off and have to be dealt with, there are plenty of things that piss me off that I can't do anything about. I'm getting better at assessing and determining what needs my attention and what can be ignored. I'm not always successful, but it's a learning process.
At the end of the day, I learned a valuable lesson from a intellectually challenged dog who taught me to let things that can't be changed be... Maybe he's not THAT stupid after all... I take that back... Yes, he is. I am watching him lick the paint off of the wall right now...

My Otis...

Despite the fact that he weighs in at a whopping 16lbs, he has the ferocity of a bear... Unfortunately, it also comes with the intelligence of a squashed grape.
He doesn't hear too much of anything any more and he usually barks randomly at the noises in his head, but when he SEES something with his failing vision, he'll let it know he saw it by barking at it. It could be a person, another dog, a bush, a squirrel, a rock, a car, a house, me... It doesn't matter. Hackles raised, barkity bark bark bark...
These days, because of his advanced age, he'll bark at it, and then forget what he was doing within a few seconds. It works out well. He'll be barking away, stop to sniff the ground and forget what he was doing.  <Sigh>  But whatever it was that Otis was barking at KNOWS that he thinks he's a vicious, scary animal.

Stupid= Otis...

To PROVE how not smart Otis truly is... He once got lost in a sweatshirt...
I came home one day and I couldn't find he dog. He's ALWAYS at the door to greet me, but on this day, he wasn't. I was in a panic, running around looking for Otis!
I called him and I called him... Nothing. The thoughts were rushing through my mind. "Did he sneak out when I left?" "Did he manage to find a way out?" " Did someone let him out?" "Where the FUCK is Otis??!??"
I was running around like a mad woman calling for the dog thinking he was gone...
On the last time I called out, "Otis!", I heard a <Thump! Thump! Thump!> coming from the kitchen. Once in the kitchen I called out again... "Otis?" <Thump! Thump! Thump!> This time I got a visual confirmation...
There was a pile of laundry on the floor by the washing machine, among which was a sweat shirt... Apparently, Otis, the wonder wiener dog had crawled into the sweatshirt to take a nap... He wound up getting stuck in the sleeve at some point... All I saw, after close inspection, was the tip of his nose sticking out from the sleeve of the sweatshirt. He had made himself into an Otis sausage with a cotton casing...When I called him he was making a desperate effort to "walk" by half skooching along the floor like an inchworm and half rolling along like a tumbleweed, thus making the <Thump! Thump! Thump!> sound.
Needless to say, I was relieved to have found my dog, but rather depressed at the realization that he was about as dumb as a bag of rocks. He has proven himself in this arena many times over, time and time again...
<Sigh!> He's an idiot, but he's MY idiot...

Otis...

Otis is my geriatric wiener dog... (The one I lost was a lab mix...) When I say "geriatric", I mean it... I think Otis may have been Jesus' dog when He was a little boy...
Otis is not too bright, not very friendly, "goes" everywhere and he smells funny. He doesn't play, he doesn't do tricks, he doesn't do anything special. He snores and farts when he's sleeping, he hates other dogs and he doesn't really do much but sleep. Otis is losing his sight, has lost his hearing, is arthritic and often has "senior moments". He'll get up from a sunny spot, go trotting along like he has a purpose, pause, sit down and look around like he lost his train of thought... (His train doesn't get lost. It's more like the train derails, blows up and sits in fiery ruins...) He's cranky, he's ornery and he randomly barks at the noises in his head. His definition of "exercise" is getting up from where he was sleeping to go find a sunny spot to sleep in, but I wouldn't trade him for all the money in the world... I might think about it, but the answer would still be, "No."