Update post operation

Duncan's sleeping most the day, but he's happy, it seems. He's off the Tramadol and the Fentanyl and he's trying to prance on leash when he's on potty walks. He's using the TPLOed leg to walk on. He's still getting Etogesic, and that seems to be enough for pain management for the current time.

He's been shaking his toys and trying to engage us in fetch. I bought an Easy Button to try to keep him amused, but the "that was easy" voice freaked him out (he was probably stoned when it went off under his chin.) His appetite is back, which is very nice to see, so we've been working on building his confidence with the button with the batteries removed. He's still a little edgy about the distinct click of the button, but he's willing to hit it.

We made him a new dog bed out of a foam mattress topper, so we could put his old bed through the wash. When I set it down to try to coax him off the old one, he moved over so he was front half on new bed, rear half on old bed, then sprawled out like he though it was an addition, not a replacement.

The bruising is all gone, the swelling is mostly gone, and the scabs are falling off his suture line. We'll go in Thursday for a checkup. His hair is starting to grow back noticeably, so we won't be calling him "naked butt" forever.


In SDIT news, Strider's figured out all the parts of the play retrieve, and the Perpetual Fetch games have begun. With a bit more training and practice, that should become a working retrieve and his first solid task.

ADBC #10- Perfect 10

It's Assistance Dog Blog Carnival time again. This time the call for posts is at After Gadget,
http://aftergadget.wordpress.com/2013/01/07/call-for-posts-10th-adbc/ and the theme is "perfect 10", or "perfect" or "10".

ADBC badge has a purple dog silhouette 

Few things in life are ever perfect. Duncan's conformation left some to be desired, and the result of his too-straight knees is a torn CCL and about 12 weeks of crate rest, with a high likelihood he'll blow his other knee in the next year. A much less than perfect start to the year.

But "10" can be the top of the scale, the best of the best, and I think Duncan is currently my level 10, though he wasn't always the wonderful dog he is now. Duncan was on his third or fourth home by the time I found him at the shelter. The latest family to house him had said they’d had him 3 or 4 months, and he was 9 or 10 months when I saw his brown and tan face. He wasn’t on the list of large dogs and extra large dogs I’d printed off of Petfinder. He was the dog I was most interested in after evaluating him in the kennel run.

He was an unwanted dog, passed from home to home, then dropped off at a shelter. He had perfect scores on their evaluation in the shelter, but he was far from perfectly behaved. He was mouthy, he jumped, he hauled on the leash like he was trying out for the Iditarod, and he was 75 pounds of unrestrained, unmannered joy.

It was months before I was comfortable taking him into public, and I was so concerned about being perfect that I nearly drove us both nuts. When I look back at the “mistakes” he’s made, I see a lot of handler error. I pushed too hard or ignored my own needs to get things done, and I tried to use that stubbornness to dictate Duncan’s life and training. He learned to be just as persistent with me when I wasn’t listening, and his alerts became things I couldn’t ignore. I could (at my peril and with him looking at me like I was stupid) tell him to give me another minute before I sat down, but he was relentless in telling me things were going wrong before I noticed, just what I needed.

There are very rarely outside observers who know what a service dog team are doing. Occasionally, someone says something about the dog. Usually they’re wrong. I had one woman tell me he was deeply stressed and should not be working in public- and she stepped in front of me, blocking my progress to tell me this- when he’d indicated a need to go out. He wasn’t nervous, he just needed to pee.

We were stalked through a consignment store by the owner, who eventually came up and told me “that dog” was welcome back anytime, as he had been careful of the merchandise. I remember a man in Walmart coming up to tell me what an impeccable job Duncan was doing, and at a grocery store, I had a K9 handler with a young dog come up and ask me when his dog might settle down into the workman like attitude Duncan had and stop being so nuts. To them, he looked perfect. I thought he was merely normal. Such is the flow of a good working partnership.

Duncan’s made me look good, just by being himself. I was perfectly lucky to find him, he’s exceeded every expectation I had for him.

On days when we’re out of sync and frustrated with each other, it’s odd to have people comment on how well he’s doing. On days when we’re in tune and cruising, it seems those are the days someone will say something- usually to my companions, as Duncan moves at a good clip, and we’re usually the first ones into the store. I’ve been told people expect Duncan to bite or poop indoors, that “people like that” should stay home, or other hurtful comments. The good comments, usually about how handsome he is, or how he’s taking good care of me, help balance the hurtful comments. Dealing with the public is never perfect.

Duncan was the perfect dog for me at the time. He gave me back a level of independence, he helped me let go of obsessing about my health, and where I set things down, and if I’d be able to reach or get up and turn off the light. He picked up a lot of the slack, and he forgave me for the training mistakes, the bad days, the days when I slept almost straight through and he had to bring me his water dish because I was so out of it I forgot to refill his most basic need.

We dabbled in obedience, and he did a perfect run through in Rally. We earned a 90/100 because I got confused and we did the serpentine starting on the wrong side. The dog was perfect, the handler had an issue. It was how we picked up most of our "faults" in the ring.

We disqualified on a Companion Dog (novice obedience) run, third one in a weekend, because I was exhausted, and he broke heel to come around to my right side, my weak side. He wouldn’t sit on the halts because I was a little off kilter and he’s trained to stand and brace. I was telling him to turn left and right as we were used to doing in real life, and I drove our score down every time I unthinkingly opened my mouth. I was frustrated to the point of tears for about half an hour after we left the ring with our 159/200 (I think I’ll always remember that score), and then I got my head back out of the dark place I’d shoved it.

Two photos of us in the obedience ring. Left photo is (l-r) the judge explaining the recall hand signals, me looking at him, and Duncan sitting in heel, waiting for what's next. Right photo is (l-r) me looking where I'm going, Duncan heeling and watching me on a nice slack leash, and the "post" person we're doing a figure-8 around.
photos from: http://classic.akc.org/mixedbreeds/first_events.cfm

Duncan was a service dog. He’d done his job. He’d been perfectly behaved for what I needed, not what I wanted, and I'd basically had a tantrum that we "failed" in front of a judge. He still managed perfect scores in the stays and the recall. It was just dealing with me, while I was moving, when I needed help, that he'd ignored the hours of obedience work and defaulted to his service dog training.

Later that day we went to a state fairground, and into the horse barn to talk with a friend. We passed cars, strangers, livestock, horses and riders, a wagon with a pair of drafts, food on the floor, a number of people took his picture, we said hello to a policeman in full duty belt, and then we went into a small office with my friend and some strangers and hung out. He did beautifully there. I took his real job for granted and focused on the “failure” in the ring because his day job work was so perfect it was (and sometimes still is) easy to forget the training, time and effort that went into getting his SD behaviors solid (though I'm dealing with an 8 month old service dog in training, and I have far more respect for Dunc's SD work now than I had when we were showing).

A more typical day of work-  Duncan lays between my knees and the chair in front of me at a National Novel Writing Month kickoff. A new place, new people, new things, and he settled himself and waited until the kickoff meeting was over.

We would finish earning the Companion Dog title, because I wanted it. His heeling was never perfect unless I was having an excellent day with my balance, which never happened in the ring. I often got confused and double signaled, or said the wrong command. Duncan managed to get passing scores anyway.

I think that’s part of what makes him so wonderful. He tries, and he forgives my mistakes.

He's a dog, and I’m only human, but somehow our working relationship has been near perfection for years.

Right now I’m waiting on the weeks of confinement to tick away. I’m hoping for a perfect recovery from his TPLO, because if I could ever be perfect for him, I want to be perfect in helping him get better, the way he was perfect in making my life better.

Duncan update

Duncan didn't eat or drink last night. He ate breakfast, slowly, if I piled a little kibble in front of him. He seems too loopy to recognize a food bowl on Tramadol. Which is disconcerting given his level of food drive.


The Tramadol seems to be too much with the Fentanyl in his system, so I'm trying to balance him being aware enough to eat, drink and eliminate on his own, without letting the pain creep up on him. Duncan seems to have found a comfortable position, and is snoozing the day away with his leg propped up on his dog bed, with his back to the side of my mattress. Rest and elevation. I think the swelling is a little less than it was when he woke up this morning, though the bruising is darker. I'll ice it later if he lets me.


The most frustrating part of the middle of the night walks are Strider screaming in his crate because he doesn't get to go too. Jerkpuppy waking the whole house with his rants is embarrassing. Thank goodness I'm not in an apartment.


Twist, Sunny and Strider continue to try to sneak in to see and/or sleep with Duncan. They're all missing their contact, wrestling and kissy face time with the Big Brown Mutt.

Duncan's home

Duncan's home from his TPLO. He's zonked out on pain meds. I don't know if he's comfortable or just drugged unconscious, but he seemed very happy to get home. I hope he feels better soon.

Unhappy New Year

Duncan did in his left knee last week. We saw our vet on Saturday morning. She made a face as she palpated his knee, said it was "popping" and that he'd likely done in more than his cruciate ligament. Called the specialty vet's then, left a message with the scheduler.

Today I called back, because he's my heart. I got him an appointment an hour before the scheduler called back, and I'm only sorry I wasted a couple minutes of her day, I managed to grab a cancellation spot. We'll be going in tomorrow morning, and talking with a specialist.

I have no idea what his prognosis will be, but I'm trying to be hopeful and do my crying when I'm not on the phone with people.

He's on a half dose of Etogesic, as giving him the appropriate dose for his size means he's trying to use the leg and getting out of the ex-pen to try to join the rest of the pack. Right now he's got the cushions off of the love seat to lay on, and seems content with the arrangement, if not happy about being out of the loop.