Max was diagnosed with T-cell lymphoma on March 20th, 2012. He wasn't even three years old yet and didn't make it to that third birthday.
I'm never really sure how much to write or tell people when they ask about it. From my own perspective, I saw changes daily from the first morning he didn't finish his breakfast till the last morning he woke up not feeling well. If I look at a calendar, I can recite how much he ate and when on each day; I know the times of our doctor appointments; I can look at photos taken in March and April and see by his eyes and fur and body shape how he was feeling. But most people don't want to know in such minute detail the story of Max's ordeal.
The short version is that he had cancer and had to be put to sleep.
If you ask questions, or you knew Max, the longer version is that he stopped eating in early March and the two local vets couldn't reach a conclusive diagnosis. Since we live in a very rural area, we were referred to the Veterinary Teaching Hospital at the Univ. of Missouri - they have a lab on site and would be able to run various tests with almost immediate results, whereas our local doctor had his own mini-lab in his office, but we'd already surpassed his capabilities and he would be required to send samples out then wait for results, which would take days.
Max was diagnosed with pretty much the worst possible kind of lymphoma within two hours of arriving at Mizzou. They immediately gave him his first chemo treatment, which sent him into kidney failure as all the toxins in his body were suddenly flushed into his renal system. He stayed in doggie ICU for the next week with 24-hour care while they worked to improve his kidney function enough that I could bring him home.
After barely eating for two weeks before going to Mizzou and not eating at all for a week there, Max had lost quite a bit of weight. Since he had always been skinny anyway, he didn't have anything additional to lose and the next step was to fatten him up again. He remained on subcutaneous fluids at home to assist his kidneys, which meant I stuck him with a needle each morning and let a bag of fluid just flow under his skin and above his muscles, which seemed kinda weird but apparently works.
For three weeks, Max did very well. He regained his strength, and even better, he regained his playfulness. I rejoiced the night he wanted to play with his toys since he had ignored them for weeks. When he tried to take my hand along with whatever treat I was holding, I was ecstatic that he wanted to eat again and didn't worry too much about the bloody thumb.
On Saturday afternoon we played in the backyard and I took some photos. On Sunday evening we went out for ice cream and he stole the entire top of the soft-serve straight off the cone without sharing.
On Monday, he had to be put to sleep. At some point after ice cream and before sunrise, an infection settled into him that his already-compromised immune system couldn't fight. Though he got a mega-shot of antibiotics that morning, he continued to deteriorate throughout the day and I finally called our vet back Monday night. He met us at the clinic and gave Max the final injection. The only person I've completely detailed his last hours to was our doctor at Mizzou. Max wasn't doing well at all by that point, and I don't like to tell people how sad and pathetic and sick he was. Symptoms presented on March 5th, he saw the first vet on March 9th, he was diagnosed on March 20th, I brought him home from ICU on March 27th, and I lost him on April 16th. His third birthday would have been May 23rd. At Mizzou, we were told that he would probably have another 3-6 months with the chemotherapy protocol. I wasn't sure if I wanted to complete the full treatment schedule, but I definitely wanted to get him "better" enough that he could enjoy life for a few weeks before I made the decision to put him down. The decision was made for me and I'm grateful that he was only "sick" for one day. And honestly, it was a horrible relief to not constantly think about when I would have say "okay, this is the day." I'm not one for keepsakes of family members, or travel, or other big life events. My keepsakes are usually photos and I have thousands of them. I had no desire to get Max's ashes back after he was cremated and I would have gladly donated his body to science or a school if it would be useful for research or education. But Jason wanted the ashes. Since we were getting them anyway, I started to look at urns and other memorial items. I quickly realized that I didn't want a dog shaped urn, or something with his name on it, or one of those boxes with a photo lasered into the top. Those are wonderful items for many people and I know they offer closure and a way to keep the pet near. But that just didn't fit with my personality. I didn't want something in my living room that blatantly screamed to all who entered, "Hey! Here's my dead dog!" When I asked for ideas on Facebook, a friend mentioned glass art that used the ash and I felt the click of rightness with that. So I did a bit of research and found Memory Glass. It's a company based out of Santa Barbara, California, that creates cremation keepsakes and their product line includes glass orbs, pendants, touchstones and hearts. I have yet to get a good photo of Max's orb, but a couple not great ones are below so you can see that the final product really does look like the website. The design is a swirl, the internal colors are ocean blue and purple, and the wrap is a slate grey coil. The purchase process is simple: go online or call to design the piece you want; Memory Glass will take payment and send you a package with instructions on how much ash they require (it's less than a tablespoon) plus the container and a return FedEx slip; send it back; they create your orb and FedEx it to you. I think the entire process, from design to final delivery, took less than three weeks for me.
I was contacted by a representative from the Mr. Chewy website who asked that I try out their site and post a review of it. They offered me a promotion code for $50 off my purchase, and I was happy to use the discount to order some treats for friends. All in all, I was very satisfied with the site. Prices for the grain-free kibble that I buy locally or from Pet Food Direct were comparably priced - usually within about a $1 of the farm supply store down the road or PFD. The site is laid out well and easy to navigate. There are plenty of options to drill down results, including brand name, lifestage, form, specialty and more. I would have liked to see options for foods made in American or Canada, but by now I know which brands are produced domestically and which may be suspect, so it's not necessary for me, but would be nice for other customers. Shipping is free for orders over $49, and a flat rate of $4.95 for anything less. Because everything ships by FedEx or UPS, orders arrive relatively quickly. I even used the "chat live!" option on a Sunday morning to ask about recalled products due to the salmonella concerns at Diamond's South Carolina manufacturing plant. The chat representative let me know that they were currently inspecting foods and expected to finish going through their stock by the next day. At that point in time, any pending orders that included possibly-recalled items would be held and customers would be notified. At this time, Mr. Chewy only offers food, treats, litter and potty pads, and health items like supplements and flea control. It wouldn't surprise me if they add toys, beds and leashes as their customer base grows. I was happy with the Mr. Chewy site and if you'd like to check it out, go to www.mrchewy.com
A few days ago, one of the people in our Shilohs Yahoo Group asked the group what their dog-related New Year Resolutions were. I thought for a minute and quickly came up with a couple. 1. More outdoorsy stuff with the boys. We take walks around the neighborhood occasionally, but that's about it. No hiking, no boating, no herding, no anything that I know the dogs would really enjoy. So I promised them that would change this year. Along with the goal of being more outdoorsy in general, I'd like to get Max into water above his knees. So far, he's only been willing to go in where it's shallow enough to keep his belly dry. That's gonna change this summer! I may even trim back his belly feathering to see if that confuses him on how close the water is... As for Shisma, I'll be happy just to get his cowardly self into a boat for the first time. I have no expectations beyond an easy float trip and keeping him happy with a ham sandwich. 2. Obedience training for Max. I say for Max because, for the most part, Shisma is a polite dog who may not be great at taking commands, but keeps out of trouble and doesn't cause me any worry. Max, on the other, is a ginormous gallumph of a dog who, while sweet-tempered and normally obedient, definitely needs to work a bit more on containing his exuberance and coming when called even when there's a new dog to sniff. Since leaving New York in June, I haven't put nearly as much time into training and, well, reminding, as I should be. Max has learned plenty of obedience commands under Chris' excellent tutelage, but he needs to be reminded now and again and I've really dropped the ball in that regard. So I just called a local trainer and made an appointment to meet her on Saturday afternoon. I feel like the new year is starting off right if I can get the dogs out and working more and having fun. If that means that I get out to play and exercise more as well, all the better. And, to be completely honest, my first resolution was "I want a puppy!!!" But I'm trying to be a mature adult here and I know a puppy is not the smart choice...yet. Do you have any dog-related resolutions? Tell us about them in the comments!
Do you wonder what dogs (or cats) think about? Of the four animals in my mini-menagerie, I don't often question the thoughts of the three eldest. Shisma, Carlos and Rufus all seem pretty straightforward in their actions. Sometimes I think they're a little weird, but they don't intrigue me. If they want to play, they play. If they want to sleep, they sleep. If Rufus wants to lick plastic for hours on end or annoy Jason by stealing his chair when he gets up to get a drink of water, he simply does that. Carlos has been much cuddlier and, well, cat-like, I suppose, over the past few months, but I attribute that to going to jail a few times (being boarded over long weekends when we travel) and having another cat in the house to teach him how to act like a feline.
Maxwell, on the other hand...Max intrigues me. He'll be lying on the carpet in the living room, seemingly quite comfortable and not panting since we're cheap and keep the heat at 64 in the winter, and will suddenly get up and move to a spot on the hardwood. I can't imagine hardwood is more comfortable than shag carpeting, but he apparently wanted to move.
My office is upstairs, so while I work during the day, the dogs are usually in that room with me. When I come downstairs in the evening they follow me. There aren't many toys kept in the office, though both antler chews are usually up there. It's not uncommon for us to be watching TV in the evening and Max to suddenly trot upstairs. Jason will call after him, "Where are you going, Max?" and I'll reply that he's going to get one of his antlers. And sure enough, a minute later he'll trot back downstairs with a ginormous antler secured between his teeth. He'll drop it on "his" rug in front of the TV, then lie down and chew on it. Clearly, Max has thought, "I want to chew on my antler," and his actions demonstrate his very purposeful intent.
And it's usually not more than an hour or two into work the next morning that he realizes his antler is downstairs (even though we have two of them) and he will retrieve it, bringing it back to where it "belongs" in the office, even if he doesn't feel like chewing it right then.
Before I vacuum the living room, I gather up all the toys and place them in a basket that resides under an end table. As soon as all the toys are in the basket, I have to remind Max to "leave it" a couple times. I'll shove all the furniture around to ensure I can vacuum under everything and the basket will end up on the couch, or on top a table to keep it out of the way. Max is focused on the basket and all the toys he's ignored for weeks once I remind him of it by putting the toys away, so while I vacuum, he usually moves just out of the way enough to keep from being bumped by the machine. He's more inconvenienced by the vacuum than afraid of it. Eventually, when I've chased him from two or three spots as I try to clean the whole room, he'll give up and move to the kitchen while I finish. If I'm sweeping the whole house, he'll continue to move just one room away and always keep me in sight.
By this time, you'd think he'd forgotten about the toys. But no, as soon as all the furniture is back in place, he walks straight to the basket and pulls out at least three toys. He deposits them around the room and then ignores them. He doesn't want to play with them, but obviously putting them away is not the right choice either.
I have learned that if I sneak the toys back into the basket - if he doesn't see me doing it - then they'll stay there until he truly wants to play with one.
It's not the "normal" doggy doings that make me stop and really consider him - barking at the doorbell, getting excited for a walk, reminding me that dinnertime is only half an hour away, these are all the things that I expect. It's the times when he has to consciously think or make a specific decision unrelated to the happenings of his environment. Those are the instances that I really wish I was privy to his doggy thoughts and imaginings.
Are there times when you really wish you knew what your pet was thinking? Feel free to leave a comment about it!
In August, I started a new job with a company based out of Virginia (though I live in Missouri). My company has a Facebook page, and I was looking at the page when I noticed our president had a puppy as her photo on the site. I emailed her to ask about the puppy. It looked like a Shiloh, but since it can be hard to differentiate with just a face shot of a young dog, I didn't want to assume since it could have been anything from a Leo to an Ovcharka. I asked if she had a shepherd pup and mentioned that I had a ginormous Shiloh.
Imagine my surprise when she replied that her pup was a Shiloh too!
I got to meet the puppy in question last week while I was in Virginia for a staff meeting. Athena is from the Georgia~Odin breeding at Fireside earlier this year and she is an absolute sweetheart. She had just gotten back from four days of training, so we practiced sit and down and "no bite!" all morning. And it turns out that she and Max are cousins as Georgia and Max's dad, (another Odin, but this one from Phenom) are both Keeper~Cade babies.
How cool is that? :)
Then this morning I received a wonderful email. It seems an elementary school teacher adopted a puppy a few months ago and wanted to bring the pup into her class next month, but her principal didn't see the educational benefit to it. She was poking around on the internet and found my website. She emailed to let me know that she enjoyed the site and got some good information from it that she was going to share with the principal. She also sent me a link to a page about therapy and assistance dogs that one of her students had found and asked if I would be willing to add that link to my site. I said I was happy to add her student's link and sent her back some "educational" slants she could try with the principal - everything from science, like how different breeds have physical attributes for their "jobs" and how genetics determine color and fur, to the responsibility of owning a dog, and all the different kinds of training dogs go through such as guide dogs, police dogs, obedience competitors and Hollywood dogs.
It was really nice to know that someone enjoyed my website and I certainly hope she can convince the principal to let her bring the dog in to meet her class.
And yes, the suggested site has been added to my Links page.
Below is the message I sent to Rufus' family about our little trip to the vet this week...
Yeah. So this cat.
Holy God in Heaven! I had no idea cats could make that kind of noise!!!
I'm boarding all the animals over Labor Day weekend while we're out of town, so I needed to get shots updated on everyone for the boarding facility.
I took Shisma in last week since he needed a prescription refilled anyway, and made an appt for Max and the cats for yesterday afternoon. I put Rufus' leash on him and stuck both him and Carlos into the dog crate (Carlos was pretty audibly upset by that) and put them in the truck, then brought Max out. We drove the two blocks to the vet - I LOVE living that close; when it's just the dogs, we walk up and we were able to do that in NY too - and left the car running while I hauled the crate inside, set it in the waiting area, then ran back out to get Max.
We weighed Max first (he's easy), then I tilted the crate up on its end so the door opens up...that makes it impossible for Carlos to bolt out. I pulled Rufus out and he happily walked up on the scale. 12 pounds. If my bathroom scale was right when we got him, then he's down 2.5 or 3 pounds from June and he definitely looks like he's lost some belleh.
I warned the vet tech that Carlos had all her claws and would not be a happy kitteh, so he weighed the crate with her in it and said that once we had her out in the exam room, he'd bring the crate back out to weigh so they could determine her weight.
It turns out, she's 11 pounds. It's crazy to me that they are almost the same weight and height, yet so extremely different in body type! I can tell by Rufus' legs and head that he's got smallish bone structure but is lanky and tall. Carlos is stocky, with thick, relatively short legs.
I went over all of Rufus' paperwork with the vet. He thinks that his rabies shot in Europe last summer was a three year vaccine, but just in case he went ahead and did another three year and that way we know he's covered. He and Carlos both are negative for leukemia - yay!
I did warn everyone that you said Rufus was crazy at the doctor, but that he had no front claws. Carlos draws blood every time I've tried to put her in a crate for travel (other than yesterday since I'm now using a bigger dog crate that takes less maneuvering to stuff her into) so I made sure they knew she had all her claws and is fast.
We worked with her first - one tech held her down, one pulled out her back leg for a blood draw, I put a towel over her front half to keep her legs under control. It wasn't too bad. She didn't like it, but she usually freezes in fear, so her eyes dilated crazy and I'm pretty sure she tried to hyperventilate herself into a heart attack. Then the doctor came in to give her the shots and confirm that oh...yeah, Carlos is a boy after all. It took a bit of digging in undercarriage fur to find out for certain, but, he's back to being a boy again.
It took me a year to re-train Jason to call Carlos "she" after we decided he was a girl. Who knows how long it's going to take to re-re-train him again.
Then it was Rufus' turn. He growled and yowled about not being able to roam the exam room as he pleased, but he wasn't too complainy. Until he needed to be held down for the blood draw and temperature reading. Yeah, he didn't like that. It was the same deal as Carlos - tech held him down, another tech took the blood, I kept the towel over his front half. He made so much noise Max started barking at him. When it was done, I had to go through a set of obedience commands with Max to finally get him to disengage. I don't think he was worried about Rufus, more like Rufus was making noises he didn't understand, so he needed to talk back.
And then the doc came in and it got worse. He grumbled about the eye, tooth and ear check, but nothing too bad. However, when the doc put the stethoscope on his side to listen to his heart, Armageddon crashed down on the entire vet clinic! I have seriously never heard sounds like what emitted from that cat for having a disc pressed against his side. Max went bonkers and I finally had to take him out of the exam room. Outside the door, the ladies at the front desk asked what was going on and I had to say that all the racket was merely for listening to his heartbeat.
It was a good thing Max and I left since he ended up peeing on the vet tech and the table and the floor. When I brought Max back in, they were cleaning up the mess and the tech had left to change scrubs.
Yeah, he sprayed enough that it required a costume change.
After that, he was fine. We put him back in the crate with Mister Carlos and he swiped and chewed on him for a bit with his displaced aggression, but by the time we got home he was meowing at me and sitting on the back of my chair like usual.
Next time we go to the vet, I'm taking a second person and a video camera. Thank goodness he's declawed in the front!
So I've made a last minute decision to enter Max in an ARBA show at Purina Farms near St. Louis.
Next weekend.
That gives me one full week to get him re-trained in ring etiquette and behavior. We've only showed twice before this and it's been a whole year since the last show.
Wish us luck!
Well, Max and I did the Iron Dog Competition with the Vermont State Police today. Long story short, we're both completely tuckered out!
Long story long... Max and I met up with our trainer, Chris, and her Malinois, Ronja, yesterday afternoon for the four hour drive to Colchester, Vermont. The competition was held on a YMCA Camp property right on Lake Champlain, so we were invited to stay overnight in the cabins with the dogs. Other than squeaky beds, panting and roaming dogs, and the constant (loud!) wind through the trees, we slept relatively well until the dogs started barking at someone walking around the cabin at 6:30 this morning.
The weather held for us too, luckily. It was cool, windy and sunny this morning, then sunny and cool toward noon, then cooler and windy, then just cool again. There was no rain, that was the important part!
The competition track was a mile and a half. From the starting point, we jogged downhill (whee!) to the lake and waded through shoe-sucking mud and water to the end of the pier to grab a pencil as proof we went all the way out. Fortunately, the water was only about calf deep, so no swimming was involved. The trail then led through the woods and Max and I walked and jogged. He manages to injure me at every event we do, so I wasn't taking a chance on sprinting through the woods with him and breaking an ankle or smacking face first into a tree! Through the woods and we ended up at the Evil Hill of Exhaustion (despair!) where I tried to convince Max to pull me up it. In his mind, that meant let me take two steps, then lunge forward and jerk me another two steps. By the time we got to the top, my very out of shape thighs were burning and he was just getting warmed up. About that time, we were passed by the team who had started after us. Since I wasn't worried about the competition aspect and we were just there for fun, I waved and smiled and caught my breath as they jogged by.
More trotting through the woods and we had to climb through a horse paddock fence, then walk through a barn and memorize the license plate number of a "suspicious" vehicle parked near it. It turned out that if you didn't recite the plate number correctly at the end of the trial, you were disqualified. We were disqualified for many things, but certainly not a lack in my memory skills!
Out of the barn and down another trail where we had to climb through a wire fence that simulated barbed wire. Then we entered the "smoke house," which was a YMCA cabin full of smoke (vegetable oil-based) with the smoke alarm going off. Max did great and seemed to neither notice the smoke nor care about the alarm. Out of the house and a quick sprint to a camo net tied low to the ground between two trees that we both had to crawl under. Max couldn't figure out why I insisted he crawl under it with me when it was obvious we could simply go around the tree and save effort and time. I often wonder just how crazy our dogs think we are :)
Next we both clambered through a large culvert and I wished I had a longer leash. He was in front of me and the leash is pretty short, so I ended up on all fours myself with my head against his furry butt. He quickly learned that he could take two steps, then I had to take two steps for him to get enough slack in the leash to take another two steps. There was a second culvert farther down the trail and by the time we got to it, he knew the pattern. Out of the first culvert and we jogged to the shooting station, where he conveniently plopped into a down-stay without a word from me (it was shady and he was tired) I shot two "bad guys" with a little pellet pistol.
We completed skipped the obstacle course because we haven't worked on anything like that. But it contained a tall A-frame, a ramp and walk across a board about 4 feet high, a jump through a window, and a jump over a wall. (We did go back to practice those later and finally got him to go over the wall with four slats in it [six was too high] and through the window. I'll post the video when Chris sends it to me.) After the obstacle course, was another jaunt through muddy woods, the second culvert, and more mud. Mud was definitely a big part of our day!
Our next station was "tactical obedience," which we didn't do so well at. The goal was to down-stay your dog behind the "cover" of a barrel while you moved to the next covered position in the trees. Again, being tired, he down-stayed very well. We were supposed to move from tree to tree like that and stop at four of them. I called him to me at the first tree, and he sprinted right past me to the last tree. Since we had already skipped 7 obstacles and been overtaken by two other teams, I wasn't really worried about properly completing each station, as long as we made it through the whole course unscathed, so we picked up our two items of evidence, a leash and a frisbee, and headed to the finish line. We went through one more short culvert and walked around another road barrier he was supposed to jump.
Then came the moment I'd been dreading for weeks. You had to carry your dog the last 30 feet or so from the wall to the finish line. I can carry Max, I cannot pick up Max. He's long, he weighs 95 pounds, and he flails maniacally because he doesn't want to be picked up, all of which combine to make lifting him off the ground an impossibility for me. If I have him up higher, like on a picnic bench or if I could have gotten him on top of the barrier, I can grab him and go from there. But directly from the ground...not so much. I tried one grasp and he wiggled out. I tried a second hold and got him up off the ground then managed to stumble about four steps before I conceded. We weren't getting a trophy, so there was no reason to traumatize him and slip fifteen disks in my own back. He happily jogged over the finish line with a slow 24 minute time. But we finished!
We also did a 100 yard dash and he clocked in at 20 mph. He wasn't really motivated, and it wasn't too long after the trail run, so I think he would have been a little faster had he been able to run it fresh.
Of course, he made a TON of new friends as everyone wanted to know about the shepherd that was so much bigger than the police dogs. He got a free massage from a licensed small animal massuese and I even relented and shared my hamburger with him for lunch. We also got to meet a lady who has a Lobo son (and possible grandson) and recognized Max as a Shiloh right off. Unfortunately, I've forgotten her name already - so if any of this sounds familiar and we met you this weekend, hello again! :)
All in all, we had a great time. And we have a lot of work to do (like hill sprints for me and A-frames for Max) before next year's event! I'll get some photos posted on Facebook and Yahoo folders this week.
I just want to say a big, public THANK YOU!!!! to Mir and Claude for inviting Max and me to come visit during a very busy time in their household! I also want to say thank you for the fact that when they realized just how busy it was going to be on Saturday, they didn't call and tell me
not to come!!! :)
Max and I headed up Saturday morning - after a quick run around the block and back to the house to pick up his shot records. I've never been asked for them at the border, but I thought, "eh, just in case." And of course they asked this time.
It took about four hours to get from northern NY to I'm-still-not-really-sure-where-in-Ontario-it-is Pembroke. Max fell in with the Phenom pack beautifully! He was introduced to his brother Argos and papa Odin first, then the lovely ladies were brought out. Freya was a little titchy with him, but he was a little sniffy with her, so I don't blame her one bit. Max wasn't shy at all, he dove right into their water bucket, sniffed his way around the living room and even ate some of Argos' dinner like any good big brother should. Actually, now that I think about it, he helped Argos out with dinner and his bedtime snack.
Argos and Max are obviously brothers. They move the same, play the same, sleep the same and look the same. They're even ready for bed around the same time at night. We took the boys and Odin out on the beach to play and chase the ball and generally get dirty, and the boys were stuck to each other like glue.
I also got to meet all 17 of those darling Tiegan and Freya puppies. And I'm pretty sure I picked out 15 of them to bring home. The puppies were adorable and LOUD. Mir invited me to help feed them dinner and oh my goodness...them babies gots some lungs on them! They definitely let you know when they decide it's time for a meal.
We got back to our hotel room around 11:30 last night and Max and I were both completely worn out. I asked him to please let me sleep in, not to wake me up at 7am, and even bartered with him by turning the AC on high. Then I woke up at 3:30am to turn it off because it was waaayyyy too cold! Max didn't get me up at 7, he got me up at 6:30...but the poor boy was still so pooped from all the playing that after running out to go potty right quick, he went back to sleep (I may have bribed him with the AC again) and I fell back to sleep until 10:00am. It was quite possibly the most wonderful morning we've had together since he came into my life last July.
I can't wait to see Mir and Claude and their Shilohs in August as well as re-introduce Max to Teeka and mama Kisla. And then one of these days I'll drag him back to DC with me so he can see his little sister Lady again. And I'll find a way for us to meet Asia as well as take a trip out West and hang out with Mac. Maxwell is a good traveling companion.
Thank you again, Mir and Claude - I had a fantastic (but too short!!!)
weekend!
1. Read the flyer that came with your new puppy describing how to glue his ears up if it seems they are not standing on their own by around ten or eleven weeks of age.
2. Gaze fondly upon the cute little puppy in the photo on the flyer who poses so nicely with his ears glued.
3. Walk to the drugstore across the street and pick up some treats that look like they will take awhile to chew through and some fabric glue.
4. Back at home, lure the puppy to you with a long lasting treat, then, when he's in mastication heaven, sit down beside him and delicately yet surgically place drops of fabric glue on the inside edges of his ears.
5. Realize there may be more than one reason that you're not a surgeon.
6. Smoosh the gluey ears together until he finishes the not-so-long-lasting-as-you-had-hoped treat.
7. Watch the puppy get up and wander off shaking his head, thus deconnecting his ears and smearing more glue on his head.
8. Disheartened, go to bed thinking about what an awful dog mom you are with a gluey-headed and floppy-eared Shepherd.
9. Wake up the next morning with a new zeal for life and fabric glue.
10. Spend fifteen minutes sitting on the floor at Jo-Ann fabrics combing intently through the glue section to find the perfect adhesive - quick drying and non-toxic.'
11. Enter the house with a purpose, knowing that you will succeed this time, because giver-uppers never win.
12. Sit down on the kitchen floor with a bowl of puppy chow, the not-so-long-lasting treat bag and two more longer-lasting treats.
13. Constantly push away the big red dog that wants to know why the new puppy that annoys him gets all the treats.
14. Unsurgically dot the puppy's ears with glue again and learn that it really is quick-drying as you stick your fingers to themselves and the puppy.
15. Hold the puppy's ears together.
16. Shove a treat in his face when he finishes the bowl of food.
17. Hold the puppy's ears together.
18. Make sure the treat doesn't get out of mouth reach so the puppy doesn't have to get up and follow his treat.
19. Hold his ears together.
20. Repeat this process through two more treats, giving in enough to give the big red dog another treat because, really, it does seem mean.
21. When you've come to the crossroad of "give another treat and possibly make my puppy obese and give him a poopy butt" and "release him and pray to Anubis that his ears stay together," make the choice that best fits your personality.
22. When you've released him and he begins to do nothing but scratch at his ears and shake his head, immediately decide that you need to take him on a long walk.
23. Ignore the fact that you are only in flip flops.
24. Quickly cinch him into his harness and pull him out the door for an exciting walk that will prevent him from scratching his ears and hopefully tire him out enough that he will pass out when you get home, thus yet preventing ear scratching even longer.
25. Walk all over the damn neighboorhood as the sun goes down.
26. Meet a nice old gentleman who is the first to recognize the admittedly un-Shepherd-looking puppy as a Shepherd.
27. Realize you forgot to bring any bags when he stops to poop in someone's yard.
28. Wait for him to finish, looking around furtively and hoping no one notices that you're an irresponsible dog owner.
29. Get him back to the house and immediately put him in the car to go back and clean up after him because you really are not an irresponsible dog owner, you were just in a hurry and he never goes potty in anyone else's yard anyway!
30. Put him in his crate because even though it's only 8:30 and not bedtime yet, you hope he'll go to sleep and forget about his ears.
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