Maya

Sadly, I have to report that Maya died on Monday night, nearly six months after being diagnosed with nasal cancer. She had a good last day, and surprised me by chasing the frisbee more energetically than she had the previous few days.  Admittedly it was much cooler on Monday than over the weekend, so I shouldn't read too much into her enthusiasm for her last round of exercise.  As always, she wolfed down her dinner, and was her usual bossy self.  She never hesitated to let us know what she wanted and she had a built in clock that caused her to pester us at 10 p.m. each night so she could have one last outing for the evening and get her biscuits before going to bed.  If we lingered too long watching the news, she would speak out with her insistent one note bark.  Ignore her for a few minutes and she would let out another, and another, until the sharpness of her tone could not be ignored.

She had had a couple of minor nosebleeds the last few days, which were easily stopped with a dose of medicine squirted up her nostril. Not something any of us, particularly Maya, enjoyed, but it worked.  Nosebleeds are a common problem with nasal cancer and we had been lucky, with only one major bleed in the spring.  Just after 10 on Monday night, we noticed a little blood, and quickly gave her the medicine, but it didn't do the trick this time. We bundled her into the car and took her the vet's office.  The vet on duty was kind and comforting and so very sweet with Maya.  She was also wonderfully honest about the situation.  It helped that we knew going in there what we needed to do.  It didn't take long and was very peaceful, but I have to admit that it broke my heart to let her go.  She was a great companion and I loved that she had such a strong, determined personality. That was the cattle dog in her. I will miss her more than I can ever say.  May she rest in peace.

Travels and Travails of Thumper

Mid-June:
I'm going to be one of those women living alone, talking to her animals. I have been home alone a lot recently, having given up my full time job on June 1st, and I'm already explaining what I'm doing to one of the dogs! A sign of things to come?

Speaking of dogs: up until yesterday I was taking care of my sister's dog, Thumper.



Thumper came to me in early January for several months' stay while my sister was in transition. I was set to send her back to Jane on June 12th, and I arose at the ungodly hour of 4:30 a.m. to take her to the airport. I arrived at Northwest Airlines Cargo, and was surprised to find a number of people already in line with pets going who knows where. One gentleman's little dog was refused because the kennel was so small the dog couldn't do the things it was supposed to be able to do -- get up and move around or sit without its head bumping into the top of the crate. The man left hoping to find a store open at that time of day so he could purchase another kennel and still make the flight. Those of us left behind were rather smug about his gross error and our own preparedness.

I awaited my turn, with Thumper in the car, as she is fear aggressive towards certain other dogs (and that's another story, as I have 2 dogs of my own. It was a very interesting 5 months). I was helped by a very nice man, who took all my information, as well as Thumper's international health certificate since she was going to Canada. He was about to process my credit card, when he said, "Now tell me that your crate has ventilation on all 4 sides." Well, I couldn't actually do that, as it only had ventilation on 3 sides. I assured him that it was all right, because she had traveled in this crate to and from Canada and the Caribbean and it hadn't been a problem. He assured me that it was a problem and he would lose his job if he let the crate through. Near tears I asked if they had a drill. Negative. Barely able to control myself until I got back into the car, I cried hard for much of the drive with Thumper back to the house. In addition to frustration, I was angry at myself for allowing myself to rationalize my way to ignoring what was clearly stated in the guidelines: Dogs traveling out of the country need ventilation on all 4 sides. Never mind that the dog was to fly from St. Louis to Houston, then Houston to Newark and that the last leg of her journey, Newark to Halifax was the shortest in a long day of circuitous travel! I was working on false assumptions, as I found out later, when I talked with my sister. Although Thumper had indeed flown before, she had only ever done so domestically. She had traveled from the U.S. Virgin Islands to Boston, from Boston to Florida, and from Florida to St. Louis. Rather than flying to Nova Scotia, she had been chauffeured to Canada in my sister's car. Moral of this story: read the directions, dummy, and follow them!