Yesterday was a month since Cora’s amputation and she has now lived with me for 3 weeks. A lot has happened in the last week and I will soon write more, but for now you can just enjoy the sweetness…
Cora Construction Project Phase 1 Complete!
Today it was actually sunny, so of course time was spent outside. Floyd (and I) enjoyed a good morning walk. Mr Energy showed what a good boy he can be. He found a herd of elk and dashed after them, but he stopped and came when I called. We were both rather pleased with the day. With the fun done it was time to get serious and tackle CCP.
Before we could undertake phase 1, Cora got to practice walking down the temporary ramp and then was allowed to explore the yard (more about that in a bit). She covered more ground than I expected!
Phase 1 of Operation Cora Construction Project
-Fence the porch!
I don’t have to worry about her falling under the railings or off the unrailed side. It’s quite a drop.
A gate!
Phase 2- Almost done– No pictures because it would be boring
Staining and cutting pieces for the ramp. The borrowed saw and I both ran out of juice
Phase 3-
Constructing the ramp! Will my design work? Stay Tuned.
And now we interrupt this program for a Coramercial
Finally, Cora finds someone who stays still long enough, that she can fight it.
Alas, even though her foe was a fern, Cora loses the battle. Tumbling away from her enemy she lives to fight another day.
Lessons from Schmoozer the Wondermutt
Everyone who knew him thought Schmoozer was special. Schmoo battled very severe epilepsy for most of his short life. I was blessed to have that time with him. He just had this gift for charming people. He was gentle, silly, mellow and affectionate and even non-dog people were charmed by him.
I brought Schmoo home from the rescue group when he was just a pup. I actually felt a bit guilty getting a pup when there are so many older dogs needing homes. Several of my furry companions had recently crossed the rainbow bridge and Fancy-cat was getting old and developing health issues. I wanted someone who would be healthy and would share my life for a long time.
His first seizure came at seven months and it was a violent, long grand mal. Life isn’t a made for TV movie, where it all seems right in the end. Schmoo’s epilepsy just got worse over time and side-effects of the meds were almost as bad. There is a sort of magic that can come from adversity. When Coal (Schmoo’s predecessor) died, I didn’t think I could ever love a dog more deeply. Perhaps that’s true, but there’s a special intimacy shared between caretaker and survivor.
Schmoozer had chronic coordination problems known as ataxia. He fell a lot and struggled to do what other dogs could. My heart ached and I wanted to protect him. He didn’t want to be protected though. He wanted to play at the dog park, swim, hike and make new friends. It’s funny how when we know time may be short we become very conscious of using it well. I wanted Schmoo’s quality of life to be as good as possible and that meant I had to let him live on his own terms.
I remember the day I really understood what Schmoo was teaching me. He’d found a playmate who was quick and agile. Schmoozer couldn’t keep up and then he fell and I felt that pit in my stomach. My thoughts churned as I imagined a dark future, when happy barks pulled me out of my reverie. While I had been down in the dumps, Schmoo had picked himself up and flung his wobbly self into the game.
Schmoo had a big heart and he knew how to live life and find enjoyment. One winter we got hit by a major storm and everything was ice. Since Schmoo couldn’t walk on the ice he first made a game of sliding across the ice. Finally even that got to be too much and he thwumped down on the ground. His eyes looked up and brightened as he watched a big pileated woodpecker tear apart a tree.
Schmoo gave me so much and now it’s my turn to share with Cora. I’m watching Cora learn to walk as a tripod and find her way in a world she can’t see. I know she is going to struggle and fall. I also know she has a life of opportunity ahead of her.
Getting Out in the World
Cora is a tired pup. Friday, she met the animal behaviorist who stressed the importance of socialization and Saturday we got busy. We’ve gone to a puppy meet-up, a park, hung out a work, the vet and the pet store. She’s met dogs and humans of the adult and child variety. She’s heard all sorts of sounds, gotten drenched in the smell of the pet store and found puddles to play in. Cora is becoming a puppy!
It’s amazing how small things can have such great impact. Seeing her wag her tail, for something besides dog food was great. When she wagged her tail for me, this fierce human, got rather mushy. Watching her walk towards people, wanting to say “hi” is exciting and hopeful. She’s not effusive. She’s still a Darned Independent Woman, but her world is broadening rapidly.
When we arrive some place new, she’s a bit loud and grumpy. To be honest, I feel that way too sometimes. New places can be hard for us quirky humans and we have a lot more control over our environment. Cora takes a few minutes but then she settles down. She doesn’t go charging about like a lot of puppies do, but she’s taking everything in through her ears and nose.
She’s gained a pound, some confidence and stronger legs since coming home. I’m gaining too. There’s a Jewish blessing for “strange creatures”. I’m not going to get all spiritual, but I believe there’s a sort of magic in opening ourselves to those that are so different. Today Cora met a big, gentle dog at the vet’s office. After a few moments of getting to know each other, she leaned her body against this big-hearted soul. Would that have happened, or been so powerful, if Cora wasn’t who she was? Cora is getting out in the world and she will leave her mark.
Cora Meets the Animal Behaviorist
Floyd fear bites. My friends may sometimes call me the dog whisperer, but I needed help. I hired an animal behaviorist and it’s been a wonderful thing. Floyd is learning to pause before reacting. He’s actually starting to approach my friends for pats and attention. Since he’s coming along so well, Floyd agreed to share his session with Cora so she could be assessed.
Before Floyd works on training, I take him out for some fun and exercise. That’s a good plan, but stopping at the post office wasn’t. There wasn’t much time when I got home, before Amanda, the behaviorist, arrived. Cora was in her kennel and throwing a fit. Her bed had slid and she’d gotten herself stuck and frustrated. I was feeling frustrated too, as I took her out on the porch to potty and she continued to throw tantrum.
Amanda arrived in the midst of this excitement. She saw Cora at her absolute worst – barking, not wanting to be touched, not walking well. She was really worried about Cora and talked about neurological problems. As Cora calmed down, Amanda began to see the other side of the pup. Cora began to walk around and sniff for food. Cora let herself be patted and tried to interact with all of us.
Nothing Amanda said really surprised me. Cora is behind developmentally. She hasn’t socialized enough and she also probably has some neurological issues. You would expect a pup to be stronger and that her mobility would be better three weeks post surgery. I don’t think Cora ever walked much or well, because of the club foot and that she’s basically learning to really walk for the first time.
I’m doing the right things for my little girl but we have a lot of hurdles to tackle. Amanda said the window for puppy socialization is just about closed. “It is their sensitive period for socialization and it is the most important socialization period in a dog’s life. Puppies who do not get adequate socialization during this period tend to be fearful of unfamiliar people, or dogs, or sounds, objects and environments.” (source) I really need to get her out around other dogs, people, etc.
After a morning of play and her afternoon session with Amanda, Cora had a rotten evening yesterday and last night she threw a few temper tantrums in the kennel after I put her to bed. It’s easy to pathologize everything with a special needs mutt, kennel meltdowns are not unusual for a pup. I have to admit I’m feeling low and overwhelmed right now. I’ve had special needs critters before and I know these feelings pass. In fact, this morning I’m noting how much better the feisty girl is walking. She’s still not strong but she’s walking straighter. Even better, she insisted on walking down the ramp to potty instead of doing it on the porch. Downs leave plenty of opportunities to climb up and Cora and I certainly will.
I found a puppy play group that meets today. I’m tired and the idea of taking Cora to socialize with a bunch of strange dogs is intimidating, but Cora needs this opporutnity. She’s been trying to play so hard with Floyd, but he’s not enthused. Besides, puppies are fun and we both will probably love it once we get there.
“I Can Do It Myself!”
Since I’m not going to have any human children, the parents curse has come in the form of a cute, black tripod puppy. A couple decades after I left childhood behind, my parents would still get an exasperated tone in their voice when they talked about my “I can do it myself!” proclamation. Apparently, I learned those words early and used them often. Now, little Miss Cora scolds me with the same sentiment..
Last night, she slid across the kitchen floor barking angrily, hunched and with her back leg thumping wildly. It looked awful and my first thought was “Seizure!” I couldn’t help it, my brain had jumped back to Schmoozer the Wondermutt and all the seizures he had. Schmoozer lost his battled with epilepsy a few years ago, but I guess those thought patterns are still there. While there was plenty of drama going on, it was a much simpler sort. Cora had an itch.
Trying to reach that irritated ear with her back right leg meant she just had her left legs to balance on and it just wasn’t working. I tried to reach over to scratch her but she barked and got thoroughly ticked off. She had worked her way into a major tizzy. So, I was forced to watch her as she slid across the entire kitchen floor, trying vainly to get that paw to ear. Finally, when she’d slid into the wall, she let me rub her ear. It obviously felt oh so good and I felt my parents’ exasperation. Did it really need to be that hard?
She’s been here a week now and when she first came home she wouldn’t let me help her with anything. If I tried, she’d bark and snap at me. I get it. This little girl has had to fight her way through life. She survived, blind and hobbled, competing against her healthy litter mates. She dealt with trauma of the shelter and the surgery. She learned to do it on her own because she had to and she knows vulnerability is dangerous. Those very real lessons are hard to forget, especially when you’ve never known anything else. Today Cora began learning something new. We practiced walking up and down the ramp. She’s wobbly on her tripod puppy legs, she can’t see where she’s going, and she simply can’t do it alone. This time, she let me support and guide her (with just a bit of grumpiness) on these early steps of her new life.
Cora’s Adoption
Blind, temperamental, tripod looking for a good home? Not anymore! Today it became official, that Cora is joining the family. Cora had a rough start to her life. As happens all too often, she was part of an unwanted litter and found herself in the shelter. The shelter isn’t a good place for any pup, and Cora was born blind and with a club foot. Lucky for her, the Motley Zoo Rescue group took her in, so she’d have a chance at life. The best thing to do for her mobility was amputation. So on January 4th she became a “tripaw’ and got spayed at the ripe old age of three months. She had a wonderful foster family, that took care of her before and after the surgery.
A week and half after that surgery she came home to the critter cabin. Ok, she was a “foster” but everyone but the human writing this, knew she was here to stay. The first few days were hard. She had to learn to navigate a new house without the benefit of site and while she’s still sore from her operation. She also had to learn to get along with Floyd, which isn’t an easy thing. Floyd has a story too and his story will be told beside hers. At 2.5 years old, he’s still figuring out that life is safe, and he won’t ever be abused or on his own again. He didn’t quite know what to make of Cora, but Cora (who has been called a Darned Independent Woman) is letting Floyd know she has a place here.
Cora has also met the cat. Fezz wanders all around Cora, and then Cora sniffs and sniffs and then gets ready to pounce… in a blind, wobbly new-tripod way. Fezz,in typical cat fashion, has moseyed quietly off leaving Cora to pounce on nothing.
Cora knows many of the important things already. She knows where the water and food dish are. She knows where the door to go out is. She’s actually asked to go out, so she’s well on her way to mastering potty training. She’s learned that a leash is something useful. She knows there’s a human to give her treats and I hope, she’s beginning to think I might actually be trustworthy. Now that Cora is settling in, there is much to discover and learn. Today began with running and then she walked both up and down her outside ramp. I wonder what tomorrow will bring?