The Servant's Quarters

As the late Paul Harvey would say, now it's time for the rest of the story.

When we left off, Rita and I had just surrendered our beloved Jenny back to the Humane Society due to her health issues. Afterwards, we went to the Adoption Center, and we immediately zeroed in on a beautiful chocolate lab named, "Bianca." In the Get Acquainted Room, she was a bundle of energy but very manageable. She settled down when she was told to, seemed very smart, and knew several basic commands. We had promised the kids that we would not adopt a dog without them, so we asked the staff if we could reserve Bianca until later in the day. They agreed, probably because we had just gone through such a bad experience with Jenny.

When we returned, the kids liked what they saw. We played with Bianca for a few minutes, and almost everyone was in favor of our choice. (We did have one notable exception. One of the kids who is still struggling with the choice of this dog.) Only one more hurdle remained - introducing Bianca to Walker.

Well, that went off almost without a hitch. The dogs didn't display any hostility towards each other. There was only one moment when Bianca tried to play too harshly with Walker, and he growled at her in return. (Little did we know, Bianca's attitude towards play would be a difficulty that we are still struggling to overcome. But I think Walker is finally getting the message across to her.) So, we adopted her right away.

While the adoption was proceeding, the little boys wanted to know where Jenny was. I kept telling them that she was in the building but the doctors were taking care of her and we couldn't visit her. (So sad.)

Well, Molly (as we renamed her later that day) is doing great. She is energetic for sure. In fact, although they told us at the shelter that she's 5 years old like Walker, we believe she's actually younger. We hadn't realized how much Walker had slowed down in his middle age until we got to see him side by side with Molly. She's not nearly as affectionate as Jenny, but she loving enough. Also, she's very protecting of the family. Apparently, the chocolates are the most protective of all the lab varieties. Whenever there's a noise that she doesn't recognize, she perks up and often barks until she figures out who or what it is. Some people might think that that's a problem, but I like having a dog who's willing to make some noise when there's a problem. Now, I've got two of them, and it definitely helps me sleep easier at night.

Molly only has two problems, as far as I can tell:

1) She's not Jenny. We all still miss our big, old, fat stray. Molly's a great dog, but bonding with and then losing Jenny is definitely a hinderance to building close ties to our new dog.

2) Gas. Molly came to us with some type of intestinal problem. I am not exaggerating when I say that we have adopted the most flatulent dog in southeast Michigan. The first evening, she was breaking wind (with disasterous consequences) every 3 minutes. It was horrible. At one point, I took her out into the yard to relieve herself. What happened next was like something from a horror movie. In Smell-O-Vision.

When we turned in that night, Molly parked herself on the floor on my side of the bed right under my pillow. Right where Jenny slept. Oh boy. This was going to be a fun night. Fortunately, I fell asleep right away and wasn't disturbed by rank smells, monsters under the bed, or anything of the like.

That is, I wasn't disturbed until about 6:00 AM. At around that time, I awoke to a very rank, overpowering odor in the room. Our dogs bowels were definitely on the scene and making themselves known. I buried my face in my pillow. No avail. I could STILL smell her. She finally let loose with a roar that woke Rita up too and made us both sit straight up in bed. Knowing that sleep wasn't going to happen without breatheable air, we climbed out of bed and each took one of the dogs for a walk.

Later in the day, Liv and I took Molly to Specialty Pets to be measured for a training collar and some other doggie goodies. We had to keep rolling the windows down in order to breathe. If you saw a gold Focus on I-275 this past weekend with windows that kept going up and down and two people inside looking like they were being gassed to death, you may have seen us.

Fortunately, Molly overcame her..... infirmity. We tried to moderate her meals a bit and gave her yogurt after each meal. (That last suggestion came from http://www.dogflatulence.com. Yes, there's an entire web site devoted to dogs with this issue.) She came out of it after a couple of days, and we are happy to say, she is now pooping normally. It's a good thing, too. At the height of our distress, I told the whole family that I couldn't live like this and if Molly couldn't get things under control, she was going back, too.

Yeah, that was pretty drastic. But you try living in a house where the air's so thick from dog farts that you think you're lost in a London fog.

It was not pretty.

(Please excuse the lack of photos of our new doggie. We've just recovered from a huge computer crash, and it'll take me some time to download the pictures I've taken of the girl.)

Here's the latest (and my last) update on our beloved Jenny. On Friday, I called the Humane Society to thank Alicia, the young lady who contacted us to let us know that our former dog had not been put down and had been adopted by one of the Humane Society employees. I'm sure I didn't do justice in that brief phone call to the joy and peace of mind that she had given us. Just really, incredibly considerate of her.

Anyway, Jenny is doing well. The young woman who adopted her loves labs and has a couple of seniors herself. She originally named Jenny, "Popcorn" when she arrived at the shelter after one of her own dogs at home. So, now that she's adopted Jenny, she couldn't keep the name "Popcorn". Jenny's new name is "Peaches". I have no doubt that she is every bit as happy and loving and affectionate as she had been in our home.

Jenny is still sick. She hasn't been cured, but her new owner is committed to seeing her through her skin problems and nursing her back to health.

Goodbye, girl. Have a great and long life!

I was working on my latest entry about our new dog when my cell phone rang. It was a call from home. Nathanael was calling to tell me that the Humane Society left a message on our answering machine.

JENNY IS STILL ALIVE!!!!!

Not only that, but she has a new home! One of the workers at the Humane Society adopted her. I don't have any other details right now, but we're going to be calling up there either today or tomorrow to find out more details.

Surprisingly, I can't help feeling a bit conflicted about this. Did we give up on her too soon? I miss her so much, but now she's no longer mine. However, we did give her up. We had the choice about taking her on, and we decided not to. We didn't take the chance. How can I resent someone else who decided to take that chance on her?

But those feelings pale in comparison to my overwhelming joy at the news! MY GIRL is alive and has a home! Thank you, Lord. You heard my prayer. I may not get to be her owner, but someone's loving her and taking care of her!

WHAT A BLESSING!

"If you have a dog, you will most likely outlive it; to get a dog is to open yourself to profound joy and, prospectively, to equally profound sadness." - Marjorie Garber

It is with great sadness that I relate to you, Good Reader, the final chapter in the story of my beloved dog, Jenny.

Our dear adoptee had been with us for a few days, and we were enjoying her thoroughly. Olivia and I took her to the Specialty Pet Store in Plymouth for her collar, leash, and first chew toys. She had staked out her favorite places to lay in the house. I was enjoying having her sleep on the floor right beside me every night. When I'd come home from work, both the dogs would greet me enthusiastically, but it was Jenny who gave me the most joy. Too fat to move very much, she would bounce up and down on her front legs until I paid attention to her. She loved to give big sloppy kisses, and she was an awesome cuddler.

On the Tuesday after the adoption, I called home to see how everyone was doing. Rita answered the phone and before I could even ask about the dogs, she said, "I'm worried about our new girl."

She was very concerned about a growth under Jenny's chin was cancerous. Also, it seemed to her that some of the hairless spots under the dog's chin were active, red, and growing. We went back and forth on what we should do. Finally, we decided to take her back to the vet clinic at the Humane Society.

I took my lunch hour at the clinic so I could be there just in case the doctor had some really bad news for us, and we had to make a really bad decision.

The doctor examined Jenny, and all seemed well. The growth was almost surely not cancerous. The checked out the hair loss and decided that it was associated with some previous leash trama. I sighed with relief and thanked God. But Rita pressed the issue, pointing out the areas that seemed to be active and growing. The vet asked us to wait while he stepped out with Jenny and consult with two other doctors. When they returned, he told us that none of the doctors were sure what was wrong with Jenny. He didn't think it was contagious (so Walker and the children were safe), but he couldn't say so for sure. Without a definite diagnosis, he did the best he could. He sent us home with a round of antibiotics and some theraputic shampoo. The shelter volunteered to pay for the first batch of medication, and the shelter manager briefly met with us to discuss options. If we wanted, we could have our money back or exchange Jenny for another dog. No way were we giving up on our beloved doggie.

We immediately started gave Jenny a bath and started her on the meds. A couple of days went by. Things seemed to be improving. Jenny was getting downright frisky. She seemed to be dropping a few pounds. She was getting stronger. We were loving her more and more every day.

One evening, Rita decided to measure and chart the bald spots on Jenny's neck. I held her down, Rita measured, and Olivia charted the location and size of each patch. We were excited to see that the medicine seemed to be working. Several of the patches seems to be scabbing and healing. What a relief. This was going to work out.

The next day was Thursday, and I arrived home around 5:00 PM, ready for the long holiday weekend. I came through the front door, and in the living room, Liv and Rita had Jenny down on the ground. They were examining her neck.

Rita said, "The patches are worse. And there's one in particular that looks really angry."

I looked at the neck. Almost all of the patches were ringed by red, enflamed skin. The hair was falling out. We remeasured some of the patches, and there had been a very significant increase in their sizes across the board. The meds weren't working.

I said, "That's it. She's going back to the Humane Society tomorrow morning."

For the next several hours, we second guessed and debated that decision. Shouldn't we take Jenny to our vet for a second opinion? But what if this was contagious? We didn't even know what we were dealing with.

Ultimately, it was Rita who stated the bottom line.

"I don't care if Jenny's bald. I can live with a bald dog. But I can't live with the idea that this sickness could infect our healthy dog and our kids."

We had an old dog who had a sickness that the vets couldn't identify. It could be a symptom of a much more serious condition going on under the surface. We could spend hundreds of dollars fighting this and still lose the battle. Or Jenny might only live another year or so anyway.

We finally decided to stick with the decision to surrender her in the morning.

The kids were devastated. I was worse. This was MY DOG. I had found her. Rescued her. Adopted her. Nursed her.

I played with Jenny that night. She was more energetic than I had ever seen her. We played tug of war with one of her toys. At one point, she got so excited that she began chasing Walker around the room and barking at him. It was hilarious watching this fat dog toddling after the much larger Walker. I don't think Walker knew what to make of it.

The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed early after a very restless night. I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Jenny before it was time to go to the shelter. It was so sad. I laid on the floor with her. I told her what a great dog she was. I prayed for her. I couldn't believe this was happening to my Jenny.

Rita and I decided to surrender Jenny alone. The kids all said goodbye, and we went to the shelter in the late morning. We were both close to tears. Jenny was so good. So loving. She was our big bundle of affection. She deserved better. But there was nothing else we could do.

We had to wait in line at the Animal Surrender Office. While we waited, Rita filled out paperwork. I sat on the floor next to Jenny, petting her and talking to her. It seemed to take forever. It was torture.

Finally, it was our turn. Rita took the lead, talking to the Humane Society staffer. I stayed with Jenny like glue. I knew I was upset but I didn't realize how upset Rita was and how much I was affecting her.

She bent down and said to me, "You have to leave right now. Say goodbye. If you break down, so will I. And I need to do this. Go. Now."

I tried to argue, but she insisted. So, I put my arm around Jenny, hugged her, and said, "Jenny, you are a great dog. I love you so much." I kissed her on the head. She licked my face. And I left.

That was the last time I saw her.

We had decided to adopt another dog, so I headed to the Adoption Center to look at the available pooches. But I was clearly upset. My heart wasn't in it. None of these dogs was for me because none of them was Jenny.

GOD'S PROVIDENCE - EXAMPLE #1652: While I was wandering around the Adoption Center, I came across a couple of familiar faces. I thought I recognized a couple who were visiting with a small beagle in one of the "Get Acquainted Rooms." I walked by three times looking in at them before I got up my courage to knock.

"Excuse me, but aren't you the couple that was interested in adopting Popcorn last weekend? My family and I were the ones who did take her home."

They recognized me as soon as I mentioned the name that the shelter had given Jenny. I filled them in on the whole story, barely managing to keep it together. It was obvious to them how hurt I was, and they were very compassionate. They were very affirming and comforting. Rita joined us in a few minutes, and we both told them that as painful as the situation was, we were glad that we went through it instead of them. We wouldn't have wanted it to happen to them, and they seemed genuinely touched by that. We wished each other well and left.

Later in the day, we asked one of the staffers if "Popcorn" was going to be put down. She looked a bit tentative.

"Yes, I think that's what they're going to do. They may have already done it. But that's definitely what they're thinking."

So, my girl is gone now. It was a great journey, and she stole my heart. I have some wonderful memories, and I kept some momentos - her collar, her toys. We have pictures. And we have the love. She was a really special dog. Don't take my word for it. I am a sentimental sap. But we all miss her. The little boys talk about how we can adopt Jenny again after the doctors fix her up. (I tell them that Jenny's probably already living with a new family who loves her very much.)
Rita says she still misses her. Everyone shed some tears.

And that's how the story ends. But we do all live happily (for the most part) ever after. In my next entry, I'll tell you about the new member of our family whom we adopted on Friday afternoon. We're planning on her staying around for a very long time.

Goodbye, sweet Jenny. You were a great dog. The best.

I know this isn't very...... liberated...... of me, but I laughed so hard when I saw this that I almost fell out of my chair.



(Hey, Rita laughed, too.)

An alternate title for this entry could be, "My Girl - The Final Chapter".

Saturday afternoon, we loaded up the van with Butlers and headed over to the Westland Humane Society to visit "Popcorn," as she had been named by the Humane Society Staff. We were not planning on adopting her, although we weren't closed off to the idea. The main reason we were going was to reconnect, look in on her, and see how she was doing.

When we arrived, we told the front desk that we wanted to visit with "Popcorn." We got an immediate reaction. She was the shelter favorite. All the staff loved her because she was so sweet and affectionate. One of them had even briefly considered adopting her but decided not to. We were also told that another family was considering adopting her, and we couldn't be sure if she was available to visit us. But, we were told to go back amongst the dogs and find her. If her pink card was on the door, she was still available. We should bring the card back up to the front desk.

We walked back. One thing that surprised me (pleasantly) was the very nice cubicle each dog had. I expected a small cage with no room and a grated floor so that the waste could fall through into a pan. These dogs were living in pretty comfortable surroundings. Big glassed in rooms. Very nice.

We found "Popcorn." She was laying there looking out of the window at us. She didn't look happy or excited. Just content and at peace. She had been cleaned up and her nails were clipped. She was still pretty fat, though.

Her pink card was there. We snatched it up and continued looking at the other dogs. There was another one at the shelter named Emily that we were potentially interested in as well, but we didn't see her. So, we headed up to the front desk with "Popcorn's" card.

When I turned it in and said that we wanted to visit with Our Girl, I ended up having to fill out an adoption form to be able to do it. That surprised me, but it wasn't a contract. I wasn't agreeing to the adoption. Just filling out the paperwork.

A young lady took us back and showed us to a "Get Acquainted" room. We sat in there and waited for "Popcorn" to arrive. The excitement was building.

Suddenly, we saw her familiar form waddling up the hallway towards us. She came in and suddenly found herself the absolute center of attention for a whole crowd of affectionate Butlers. Even Rita, who I wouldn't describe as a dog person, joined in. When it was my turn to pet her, I didn't get the idea that she recognized me. But she was sure happy to see all of us, and she appreciated the petting that I gave her. She had been cleaned up, and she smelled a lot better than she had the last time I saw her.

While we played with her, the young lady who escorted her to us went over her medical report. Of course, the biggest concern was her weight. Other than that, she was in surprisingly good health. She was eating and drinking fine. The vet had not found anything else to be concerned about except an ear infection, which she was receiving medication for. As she was 8 years old, "Popcorn" could be expected to live another 2 to 4 years if her health continued to be good.

Then, she left us alone to discuss whether or not to take the next step.

We talked about it. I was very unsure. My heart definitely wanted to go forward with an adoption, but my head was putting forth some pretty good arguments against. Money was tight already. Could we afford another dog? And there was already another family interested. Surely, she would be adopted out. But one thing that had been weighing heavily on me was the adoption FEE. I expected it to be around $300. But "Popcorn" had already been spayed, and it was much, much lower than I expected.

On of my main concerns just evaporated before my eyes.

I finally just put Rita on the spot. "Honey," I said with all of the husbandly leadership I could muster. "You decide. I'll go along with anything you say."

Rita looked around to see eight sets of young, pleading eyes focused on her. "Oh thanks a lot! My hero!"

We waited for the staffer to return as Rita had some additional questions. She finally came back, and Rita fired away. Were her hips ok? Yup, the vet couldn't find anything wrong with her hips. But the weight was a real problem. We'd have to get her to lighten up. Did the vet take any x-rays? Nope, we had no idea what's under all that fat. She could have tumors and all kind of health problems. But she was acting healthy, eating her food and water and taking her walks.

Ok. We decided. "Popcorn" belonged to us now.

I took a couple of the kids and went up front to go through the adoption process. Rita stayed behind with OUR DOG.

Gentle reader, I'll spare you the boring details of the adoption process. It was a total bore.

But here's where the story does get a bit sad.

As we walked out with our new dog (who by this time had been renamed "Jenny"), an older couple was standing by the door. The gentleman held the door for me, smiled and said, "Good luck," as I walked out.

I thanked him and headed for the van, wondering if he volunteered at the Humane Society.

We pulled away from the parking lot, and Rita said, "That makes me feel sad."

"What does?"

"That couple you passed by the door? They were the other family that wanted to adopt her."

Rita went on to tell me that while I was up at the front desk taking care of the adoption, this other couple came looking for Jenny. She found them looking at our dog a bit forlornly through the window. Stepping out of the room to have a chat with them, she discovered that they knew all about us finding Jenny and that we had decided to go ahead and take her home. They were so disappointed. They had seen her on the web site and really had their hearts set on getting her.

If I had known, I probably would have opted to just them have her. She would have made a great dog for them. Laid back. Relaxed. Calm.

We just have to have faith that they'll find the pet that's right for them.

As I'm typing this, Jenny has just gone out to potty for the last time tonight. She's perfectly house trained and is so easy to care for. Her ear seems to be clearing up. It appears that she'll be easy to train. She and Walker are getting along fine. She's very affectionate and is just so happy to be with us.

We're also starting to learn more about her. Her weight problem appears to be the result of being fed table food exclusively. She has refused all dog food and treats. We finally decided to buy a can of meat flavored, wet dog food and mix it in with her regular food. That did the trick, and she devoured it. So, we'll have to wean her off of the additive until she's on pure, dry dog food.

There are also some pretty nasty markings around her neck. Obviously, she's spent quite a bit of time tied up somewhere. That would probably account for her stinky condition when we found her since she was probably tied up where she went to the bathroom.

Most heart breaking for me tonight is that Rita has discovered that she's developing cataracts. Sad. Hopefully, they'll be very slow in taking her sight from her. But even if she goes blind, she'll still be well cared for.

Jenny's got a busy week ahead. She needs one last shot and a visit to our vet for a complete exam. Then we'll get her license from the city. I've already bought her training collar and leash, so school is about to begin. (As she seems quite eager to please, basic training should be pretty easy.)

Below is the first official picture of Jenny as a member of the family!!!

MY GIRL IS ALIVE AND KICKING!!!!!

YAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I am so happy that there's no way a blog entry could do my mood justice.

When I came home from work today, Olivia made some cryptic comment to Rita about "showing me the dog." I assumed that she had found another dog online that she wanted to adopt. (We've been thinking about getting another one after I found the stray. But we're pretty skiddish about it.)

After dinner, the family led me out into the living room, and there on the Westland Humane Society web page was my darling girl in all her glory. It probably took them a few days to get her cleaned up, checked out, and spayed.

So, she's looking for a family. We don't have a minute to spare before the weekend, but if she's still there this Saturday, we're going to go for a visit and...... who knows?

We might end up adopting her after all.

Here's the web site where you can see some pictures of my girl:

http://search.petfinder.com/petnote/displaypet.cgi?petid=13395572