My Dear One
May 1995Early in the morning, I leashed up Alabama and took her into the front yard. She started barking furiously, and I spotted a young dog in the next yard. Alabama's reaction scared him off, so we finished our walk and went back indoors.
Thirty minutes later, as Jonathan and I left for work, I took a glance at my newly-planted flower garden in the side yard. Being Texas in May, the weather was already muggy and warm. The young dog had made a resting place by digging up my nasturtiums and laying in the cool damp soil. I remember distinctly that I should have been mad, but his warm engaging look at me was endearing. I thought, "You're lucky you are so cute!"
May 2002Dakota had always been athletic, bounding up steps almost two at a time. He could have jumped our four-foot fence if it had occurred to him to be disobedient. So it struck me as odd when I saw his hesitancy to walk up our front staircase. A day or two later, he chased a squirrel in the back yard and ran square into our 150-year old oak tree. We then realized that he had gone blind. It was awful to look into his beautiful brown eyes and see no recognition, just a blank stare.
One of the vets at our animal hospital told us to wait over the weekend until they could schedule a glaucoma test. But we were worried; the suddenness of his blindness and some drainage from his eyes didn't look like glaucoma to us. We contacted an opthamology clinic for dogs, were given an immediate appointment, and drove right away to the other side of Chicago. Dakota was diagnosed with a urinary infection, which had caused excess fluid in his eyes to partially detach his retinas. The treatment was massive amounts of steroids, which could kill him as well as fix the problem. There wasn't time for tests, for he'd be irreversibly blind in two days. We took the risk, he survived the treatment, and his sight was restored.
May 2011Our sixteen-year old Dakota had far out-lived his life expectancy, and he continued to bless our family and provide steady companionship to our Dachsund puppy. But his health started failing badly about six weeks ago, and last Thursday night he took a turn for the worse. We could no longer hold off his pain through medication. Yesterday, we took him to the animal hospital, and our fears were confirmed. There would be no getting better. Jonathan had said his goodbye at home, but at the office Kola and I had about ten minutes alone with Dakota. Kola spotted a jar of dog treats, and we broke one to split between our two dogs. I was glad Dakota could have one more treat, for he always loved them so much.
The vet first administered a sedative to relax Dakota, before a second injection would stop his heart. As the sedative took effect, I looked into his beautiful brown eyes. He still knew me. It took a few minutes before he gently closed his eyes and lay his head down. I left the room then, since he was no longer aware. With one backward glance, I saw that he lay comfortably for the first time in days, relaxed and breathing slowly.
That night at our family devotion, I requested the following hymn stanza:
Abide with me, fast falls the eventide.
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Behavior Modification, Part I
The student entered the classroom, looking unsure of himself. As he moved forward, everyone in the class looked intently at him without making a sound, which made him even more nervous. He backed up a little, from the tension of the situation, and the class erupted in jeers. He immediately stopped moving, and they quieted down.
The student walked foward another few steps, and his classmates watched silently. He didn't have any idea what was happening, but he kept moving toward the front of the classroom. Their silence was unnerving, and he walked very slowly. At the front of the classroom, he took a step to the right, and the catcalls were deafening. "That must not be correct," he thought. He retraced his steps and moved to the left. Silence. "This direction must be ok."
Eventually he figured out that silence meant to move forward, while jeering signified a wrong turn. He kept working on finding the correct direction, and eventually he touched a small indentation in the front wall of the classroom. For the first time, the classroom cheered. He had solved the game.
Time to solution: 5 minutes
Computer Problems
Besides all the regular comings and goings in our family, and some extras that aren't regular, my church laptop crashed. It hung on for about two weeks, helped along by a church member who is also a computer expert. But yesterday it wouldn't boot up at all, and the screen just scrolled white lines with occasional flashes of pink. Not good.
While I wait for Best Buy to send it to Dell for a diagnosis, our pastor has kindly loaned me a laptop from his family's collection. So I now have a working computer again! What a relief. It's amazing how dependent I've become on the laptop to do all sorts of things. Including blogging.
So . . . I hope to be more regular here now. For weeks, I've been saving up topics to write about. The best title among them is "Queen Mama." Stay tuned.
Update on Dakota
We picked up the prednisone today, and I'm hoping it will help Dakota feel better. The antibiotics are doing their work, too. He's been more himself lately, like following me around in the kitchen as I prepare sack lunches. You never know what food might drop or be given!
My Dear One
Dakota's health has been poor for about two weeks now--intermittent diarrhea, coughing, and reduced appetite. We took him to the vet last Saturday, who did bloodwork and cultures. Coming home with two antibiotics, pain pills, and an anti-diarrheal medication, we thought things were under control.
That night his ankles started to swell. Then Sunday night the edema spread to three of his four legs, from toes to hip. I telephoned the veterinarian on call, who advised us to take him to the 24-hour clinic. She was concerned that he might be be experiencing heart failure. But the diagnosis when we walked out at midnight was cancer--specifically lymphoma.
He's too old to do more than make him comfortable, and we're starting him on prednisone tomorrow morning. He couldn't take the steroid any sooner, because we had to wait until another med was completely out of his system. It's been hard to see him so swollen since Sunday, but hopefully tomorrow the prednisone will help with that. Also, he's had nerve problems with his back legs for several years now, so he can't feel all of the current discomfort.
Peter saw me crying this morning, and he burst into tears, too. It was a teaching moment, and we hugged each other and talked about the whole situation. "God is taking care of Dakota, just like he's taking care of us."
