Dancer’s Renny Boboge – Born to Herd
By Debra Lee McAuliffe
For the past twenty years I have served as the cantor and music director at St. Emydius Catholic Church in San Francisco. I know that is a strange way to start a ‘dog’ story, but not this one. My earliest childhood memory is of standing by a radio and singing along with Frank Sinatra. I knew what I was born to do – I was born to sing and I can’t imagine my life without it. In fact, one of my favorite songs is an old Quaker hymn, How Can I Keep From Singing? Just like me, Renny, our beautiful Shetland Sheepdog, knew from a very early age what he was born to do -- he was born to herd.
I think everyone who has ever loved a dog thinks theirs is the most special and the smartest ever born. My husband John and I are no different. Renny (whose name means small and mighty in Gaelic) was the best. He got a great start in life as the product of excellent breeding. His father’s name was Bearon and his Mother’s name is Dancer. Both champions, his parents gave him the genes to be an exceptionally smart and beautiful dog.
Lucky for us, Renny did have a little bit of curly hair on his back and an undescended testicle, characteristics that prevented him from being in the show ring. He was considered pet quality; and what a pet he was! Renny became ours in August of 1995. We didn’t know it at the time, but when he joined our family it would change our lives forever. A few weeks after we had him we got a call from his breeder. She tested him for herding instinct and the rest (as they say) is his-story. We were to become the herding equivalent of soccer parents.
Both my husband and I are native San Franciscans. We think ‘going to the country’ means crossing the Oakland Bay Bridge, but Renny needed to herd. So we started driving to herding trials which are almost always held at ranches that are truly in the country. We traipsed out to trials in the country towns of Winton, Santa Rosa, Vacaville, Pescadero, Picenas and Gilroy. Even as he got older and a little less sporty, we would take Renny out for duck herding.
It’s said that dogs don’t have the right facial muscles to smile but when Renny was anywhere near livestock his face lit up in a grin. I know it is not very unusual for a herding dog to try to herd anything and everything (even ocean waves) but there was always something so brave and joyful about Renny’s style.
The first sign of Renny’s illness was in the spring. We were still grieving the loss of our fifteen-year-old year old Champion Primo Infrared, Reddy, who had passed away from heart failure due to advanced age. We noticed a lump by Renny’s left shoulder and a red sore spot on his left paw. After initial treatments the symptoms returned. More tests and x-rays were done but they were inconclusive. Renny never whimpered or fussed, even with overnight stays in the hospital. The technicians and doctors said he was as brave a dog as they had ever seen.
Then near the end of October, after a consultation with a veterinary dermatologist, our vet suggested a biopsy on Renny’s feet and an ultrasound and we went to a specialist for both procedures. She gave us a diagnosis -- a disease called hepatic cutaneous syndrome, a very rare liver condition. Not only is the cause not known, but it is usually fatal. I have never cried so much or so long in my life. I would be holding him in my arms right now if my compassionate husband hadn’t reminded me we had to do the right thing for Renny, which we did for him on Halloween morning.
Although we have no regrets, we still have questions we will always carry with us. When will we ever again have a dog whose first outing was to a cathedral to be blessed? When will we ever again have a puppy so beautiful and photogenic that his picture would be in every Sheltie calendar for seven years? When will an old city couple like us ever again have a real always-ready-to- work herding dog who wins ribbons and prizes galore? The answer to all these questions is “never.” Now, every time I sing the Twenty Third Psalm: The Lord Is My Shepherd, I think of how lucky God is to have such a small and mighty herding helper. I will truly miss Renny until the day I die.
Reebok, My Husband’s Lifesaver
By Jo Sowards
My story begins with my husband and me after over forty years of marriage. We retired and re-located from our home in western Washington State to acreage in the south central area of Washington, outside the little town of Goldendale, WA. We had ten Whippets that we have bred and competed with for many of those years, and my husband's best friend, our dog Reebok, was his constant companion.
We designed and were building a home on a beautiful piece of land when, halfway through, my husband Glen, became gravely ill. He was rushed to Oregon Health Sciences University and told he had a heart infection that was usually fatal. His heart specialist, Dr. Song, said that Glen’s emergency surgery was successful but that his will to live was not evident. He asked me if there was anything that might increase Glen’s will to live. I could only think of Reebok so Dr. Song said, “Bring him in!”
As soon as Reebok entered the hospital room, Glen started to sit up and take notice of what was going on around him. Reebok jumped up on Glen's hospital bed and they both proceeded to make up for two month’s worth of lost time. After that, Reebok and I made the two-hour trip to OHSU in Portland, Oregon twice a week, and Glen began to make remarkable progress.
It's been over one year now and Glen is back ‘in the harness’ working and playing with Reebok and his other beloved Whippets. These days, Reebok, the ‘therapy’ dog does not leave Glen’s side. Glen has not only finished our new home, we also have an in-ground pool for him and our Whippets for hydrotherapy. Glen’s next project is to install a three-hundred yard oval track for our racing Whippets and he also keeps very busy building the starting boxes for most of the U.S. racing world clubs. The lure machines Glen perfected are also in great demand. Poor Glen had so much work to do, he just had to get better. Thank you, Dr. Song and Reebok for saving Glen's life!
My Delta, Meant to be Mine
By Roxanne Frank
After twenty-three years as a groomer, I began teaching adult education classes on grooming. One of my students, Linda, was a Sheltie breeder and we became friends outside of class. Occasionally I saw litters of her puppies and we discussed which ones were considered show quality and which were pet quality, etc.
In August of 2005, Linda had a litter of pups that I had gone over to see and we had our usual discussion about quality and personalities. She asked me to drive her to her veterinarian’s clinic for the pups' health checks and, while waiting for the appointment, one of the puppies really caught my eye. I had seen this litter many times previous to clinic visit, but suddenly this puppy was just ‘telling’ me to pick her up. I began holding her and later I admitted to Linda and the vet that I thought this one should be mine. Linda thought it was a temporary feeling and that I’d get over the puppy quickly. After all, I was a professed sighthound lover who had owned Afghans, greyhounds and borzoi. As we were leaving the clinic I also told the receptionist also that this little female puppy was going to be mine. Again, Linda told me I was out of my mind.
A few days later Linda had some buyers over to look at the litter. I told her to tell them the little female was sold and I gave her a check for the deposit -- right then and there. She said she would hold the check because she was positive this was ‘just a phase’ I was going through and that I would change my mind. This is the beginning of my story of owning Delta. I took her home when she was eleven weeks old, in October of 2005, and I knew in my heart I had made the right decision. Why I felt I needed another dog I'll never know, since I already had two Borzois, a Cocker Spaniel and some cats at the time.
In January of 2006 I became extremely ill with what felt like the flu and was in bed for several days. All of my dogs stayed with me, but Delta worried her little heart out. If I would make any noise because of the pain, she would be right there to lick my face and comfort me. She didn't even want to leave me to eat or go outside.
I eventually ended up in the hospital with a toe infection that had become systemic and it was eventually diagnosed as being gangrenous. My pets knew I was sicker than I did!
On many occasions Delta would jump up near my face and lick me until I would just push her away or she would jump on me and would not stop when told to. Eventually, I realized she was alerting me about my blood sugar. I am a brittle diabetic (my blood sugar levels are sporadic and can result in various symptoms) and I can no longer tell when my blood sugar is too high or too low. Delta alerts me to the highs by frantic jumping and to the lows by just pawing at me. She does this before I even begin to feel anything (particularly the lows) and once I pull out my glucometer to test my blood she relaxes and understands I am doing something to correct the situation.
Delta even came to the rescue of a friend who visited me as a newly diagnosed diabetic who was just beginning to control his sugar level. My friend was out doing yard work and came in sweating, saying he didn't feel well. Delta absolutely would not leave him alone. When I measured his blood sugar level, it was four times the normal number. Delta tried to alert us to his condition and she is now his hero.
It’s amazing that Delta detects minor changes physical changes in me that I am not aware of. I know now that Delta was meant to be mine -- she knew it and my heart knew it. That's how Darlins Delta Lyrix came into my life and I am so happy to have her!
Dagger the Miracle Alert Dog
By Kana Biddle
I am a German Shepherd Dog breeder, and I kept one of my puppies named Dagger. I wasn't planning on keeping a puppy but every time I had an anxiety attack, even if he was in another room, Dagger would whine until I found him and kept him near me. I had heard about seizure alert dogs, but I'd never heard of them having the ability to alert someone to an anxiety attack. Dagger did, and it started when he was only six weeks old.
Dagger and I are now inseparable. I suffer from several illnesses as well as anxiety attacks because of an assault that happened when I was eighteen years old. I've learned that Dagger cannot only warn me ahead of time that I'm going to have an anxiety attack, but he also alerts me to headaches and migraines on the way. Once I had a headache unlike any I had ever felt. Dagger alerted me persistently enough that it caused me to ask my husband to take me to the emergency room and it turned out to be a stroke. Dagger certainly saved my life that day!
When I swim underwater for too long, it feels as though the water is crushing me and I can’t breathe. Dagger swims with me and wears a special lifejacket with a handle – if I’m in trouble, he swims out to me, I grab the lifejacket and he pulls me out of the water. When I have more severe anxiety attacks, my brain shuts down, I stop breathing and Dagger brings me out of it. If I have a sudden asthma attack and can't talk, or if I get hurt but can't call out loudly enough for my husband to help me, Dagger will bark continuously until help arrives or he will find my husband and bring him to me. When I have problems with my knees and my back, Dagger allows me use him to pull myself up. And, anytime I drop something, Dagger just naturally picks it up and brings it to me.
Sometimes Dagger is a miracle worker for others. Once, while I was hospitalized, I took Dagger outside and we met a woman whose son had been in a bad car accident. She asked if I would bring Dagger in to see him. The boy was in an almost comatose state and could hardly move or focus on anything. The moment he saw Dagger however, he slowly looked at him and began to smile. Then Dagger nudged his hand a little and a miracle happened. The boy reached out to him with the arm Dagger had been nudging. Suddenly the boy’s parents and the nurse began to cry. They were so amazed and so thankful. Somehow Dagger knew what this young boy was capable of, when no one else did.
It would take forever to share all of the things Dagger has done for me through the years. He even alerts other people and strangers who have special needs!
Many of our readers have asked for an update on Katie, a young acute lymphoblastic leukemia patient being treated at the Medical Center of Virginia and Bama, a therapy dog who lives in Virginia. Katie and Bama are pictured at right with Bama’s owner, Monica Hatcher. When they first met at the hospital, Katie and Bama connected instantly have since developed a special relationship, credited with Katie’s recovery progress.
Bama’s owner, Monica, reports that Katie is doing well and has just eleven months of treatment to go. “Bama sits with Katie during her chemotherapy treatments and blood-draws, on good days and bad,” Monica says, “and I have never heard Katie complain about anything“.
“Currently, Bama and Katie are featured in a special fundraising 2008 calendar, Dogs on Call, and their story was recently featured on a Richmond radio station web site after they participated in the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s annual Light the Night Walk event,” Monica says. During the summer, Katie did some radio commercial spots for Anthem LemonAid and kept busy with horseback riding lessons. Also, Bama was a popular guest at Katie’s sister Sarah’s recent Brownie Girl Scout Troop meeting, where members earned a dog-related merit badge.
A Reminder about the Dangers of Rat Poison
By Khani Adams-Young
Koa, our playful Sheltie, died tragically at twenty-two months old from ingesting rat poison at a neighbor’s home. One
morning, at 3:00 a.m. Koa began to cough and was having difficulty breathing. He passed away within twenty-four hours, in spite of our veterinarian’s gallant attempts to save his life.
Open containers of rat poison in a yard or home are dangerous to pets who may be able to reach them. Rat poison is attractive to pets and they will ingest it if they are given the opportunity. Early intervention is the only possible way to save a pet who has ingested this type of poison, which interferes with the blot-clotting process. Prevention is even better.
It’s important to make certain a pet’s environment is a safe one. We thought our neighbor's yard was safe, since they also owned a dog who spent time in their yard. It turned out not to be safe and we ended up losing our little Koa suddenly. The last time we saw him, he in an oxygen tank, on fluids and antibiotics, fighting for his life and bleeding internally.
The loss of a pet is devastating in itself but to have a little dog die so needlessly in this way is heartbreaking. It is something I will never get over. I hope that perhaps our story will help save other pets so that Koa will not have died in vain.
