Waiting For Sunrise Over The Pool With Rack

I am beginning to think that a good slogan for a shelter should be "Adopt a Dog, You Will Lose Five Pounds."

It did work that way for me.  I lost five pounds after I adopted Lettie and had to get up an extra half hour earlier each day and do a walk around town following her every day.  Three times a day.

That adds up to a lot of walking.  

I would wander around town looking at things, and seeing sights that I would never have expected to see.  Many beautiful sunrises and sunsets, meteor showers, rainbows, snowfalls, gardens in bloom, and of course the neighbors.

Oh it was certainly difficult to get off my tail and go for a walk some of those days.  Winter Mornings in Pennsylvania could be justifiably called frigid.  After a snowfall, Lettie was smart enough to walk behind me in between the berms of snow and in my lee.  

I will allow a dog to follow me to shelter in my shadow, a human will be on their own.

 

We moved down here a couple years later and I kept the routine up.  In PA, I got up early, managed to leverage that time well by either going to the gym at work or on weekends I'd get to the park early to beat the events that would be held there so I could get in my own cardio fix.  Here, it makes sense to be up before dawn and get your walks in because in August in South Florida, it can get ugly after sunrise very quickly.

Temperatures will rise to near body temperature, with that humidity that is like being in someone else's bathroom during their shower, and the sun is Due Up.   Days like that you question why they call it the Sunshine State when it just might as well be called the Furnace State. 

When we lost Lettie, we quickly got Rack.  I needed another dog.  My routine suffered, and frankly a dog is a great way to keep your mood up.  If you have not been awakened by a wet nose on your elbow, then you are missing on one of life's great joys.

But with great joy comes great responsibility.

I not only moved myself and my family 1200 miles to Florida, I moved my walks and my schedule.  The scenery has changed.  The Palms, The Flowers, and the Pool.

I still was up as much as 3 hours before dawn, but that did not mean that I could just plop myself in the chair and do what I liked.  I had Rack the McNab SuperDog(TM) to do things for.

I could just open up the back door and let him wander around to do his business before we would get him walked.  He would charge around and get behind the tropical plantings we have here on the property and then come back.  Except he is a very nervous dog.  Many days he'd just come back to the back door almost as quickly as you could walk across the room.

I started paying attention to this and changed my own schedule to allow myself the time to go out back and listen.  I never found anything particularly wrong with things, I have yet to figure out why Rack would get scared and want to come in.  Maybe an off shore shower, a trash truck a half mile off, or just a leaf moving in another city.  Who knows!  Dog Logic!

What I did find was a thing of beauty. 

I have to turn on as many lights as I can when I let him out back.  While we have  snakes hiding in the brush, toads under the trees, and other things that go bump in the night, they have always let us be.  

I would walk out and cluelessly just wait for him to come back.  It was never really enough time to be productive.  Then I started looking around.  The moon and the stars would rise over the pool.  The breezes felt wonderful on my face.  The sun rose over the ocean and hours before there will be lightening of the skies so as that proceeded, the colors would shift.

I learned that Rack was teaching me to observe while he had me wait for him to come back out from behind that particular plant. 

So listen to your dog.  They may not say much, but they can teach.  You only have to learn.

Thunder And Lightning, Very Very Frightening To Rack, The McNab Dog

By this time in the day, it should be sunny.

I mean, it is supposed to be the Sunshine State.

But heck, it is also the Rainy Season.

Oh and the dog is missing.   Figuratively. 

You see it just turned to "night" again.  The yellow blob floated over me, my neighbors, and all the way to the park.  It got difficult to see across the street.  The house got dark, the security lights came up full, briefly.

Meh.  I don't have a problem with that, although I really was hoping to get to skate today. 

Nah!

As for the dog, he's an interesting beast.  You see, Rack the SuperDog (TM) is an incredibly

expressive and incredibly intelligent dog.  With Great Intelligence comes Great ... Quirks.

He's been a fearful boy since he was a puppy.  Absolutely hates noise, which is to say a loud noise will send him scurrying off.

I've noticed that his reactions have gotten less severe.  Of course they have, he's being worn down.

Like the Grand Canyon.  Constant noises.  Two months worth of fireworks leading into the Rainy Season setting up.

Fireworks?  What the heck are you people celebrating, knock it off!

We do have a routine here to deal with some of the noise, to take the edge off. 

The Rain Cookie.

Rain Cookies are a ritual.  They look like chocolate fudge, and have some weird holistic herbal things in them that should calm him down. 

I think it's partly the act of getting the cookie.  I won't walk it over to him and give it to him.  He likes the things and he has to come out of hiding to get them. 

Rattle the bag, announce "Do you want a Rain Cookie (TM)?".
He looks.
"Well?"
Stand up, stretch, slink over.
I cup his face under the muzzle.
"Rack, you are a good boy!  Remember that, Good Boy!"
Stroke his head.
He seemed to relax a wee bit as I hand him the little fudge ball looking thing.
Back in his corner.

You have to meet them half way.  It seems to help.

I did a similar thing with Lettie.  She had fear of thunder and a very strong play/prey drive.  I

can work with that.

You see "Make Rain Time Play Time" was the theory and it worked well.  I had tennis balls all over the house.  I'd hear a boom, she'd hear it first actually, and would bark at the sky.

That was my cue to have a tennis ball bounce indoors.   She eventually worked through it.  She never actually brought the ball to me for it but she did expect the play. 

But she got to the point where she'd just handle it while trotting all over the house yipping at the thunder and the sky.

So since I just had a lightning strike on my block, that's it for today.

Seriously.  When you hear a quiet "snick" before the lightning flash and then the house

shakes from the storm, it's time to boogie.

I mean Seriously.  This house is built to withstand a hurricane, and I have seen it go through one but that's a story for another day.

When you feel the percussion of the thunder in your socks while you are sitting...

It's a McNab Dog's Life With Rack

All my dogs have been Rescues.

They have both been McNab Dogs or a cross.

Not that there is anything wrong with a Golden Retriever, they are a living hug.  German Shepherds are great dogs, but I'm a big guy and people shy away from me already.  There are a lot of Greyhounds around that need homes, and if you ever want something on your couch sleeping, they are a good bet since they are mellow and regal in their bearing.

But I have a McNab.  They're not well known outside of their native California, except with cowboys and ranchers and farmers.  I am none of that, I did IT in my career.

Not being well known is a good thing.  The breed hasn't been wrecked by overbreeding.

Rack is an interesting character though.

You see, there seem to be two different kinds of McNabs.  The kinds that have to be heavily and independently occupied are working dogs with a Capital W.  They're the ones that you send out to the back 40 to round up the cows and expect them to work those beasts to better than your best expectation.

Rack is, well he's different.

He got off to a bad start.  I expect that it was because he's allergic to chicken and grain.  They probably fed him that and it might be why I ended up with him in the first place.

Having to pick up something that looks like Melted Soft Serve Ice Cream from the living room

rug twice a day until I found out what caused it was uncomfortable to say the least.

Also he has a strong fear of Diesel Trucks and Loud Noises.  I'm guessing the first owner was either a hunter or a truck driver and fed him some KFC one too many times in the cab of the truck.

No matter what breed, an intelligent dog needs a job.  It's true for Rack, as well as it is true for any Border Collie, Kelpie, Poodle, or Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.

That last one is the only small dog I would consider.  They are in the "Top Ten" intelligent dog lists.  If I ever need to slow down who knows what will happen.

I am his job.

You see, while those ranchers won't sell a City Person a McNab, many of these same dogs

are smart enough to know that life on the farm is not for them.  They simply "up and leave".  The dog goes missing and needs a home.

Shelters in Northern California, Reno Nevada, Fresno, and similar places are chock full of these amazing dogs.  I've said I want to just drive my Jeep around those areas with the doors off of the car and the roof down and if a dog chooses to jump in, I'll have my next one.

That would take a four day drive so it isn't going to happen.  Some nice ideas are just best being ideas only.

Those dogs were on a farm because a person thought they knew best.  Usually they do, sometimes not.

All day long, I am home.  I'm up before dawn.  We go for our first mile walk and by the end I'm being towed home so he can get water and food.  Then off to his corner where he guards against the evil delivery trucks.

He can spot a UPS truck before that thing gets onto my block.

If I get out of my desk and walk somewhere, I usually will hear paws on the pavement, toes on the tiles.  Turn around and the white tip of a tail is heading back to His Place In The Corner.

My fault, I keep half of the house blocked off because I would rather have a wet nose on my elbow once an hour than be alone here to my music on the noise-canceling headphones.

When I am finished, my rocker is next to His Spot.  I'll entertain myself while he's there sleeping.  Next to me, I'll look down at the DogBall (TM) that is resting there.

Whoever said "it's a dog's life" never met us.

He knows the neighborhood, and will choose our routes.   I make it a point to do more than two miles a day, and a true farm dog will walk many times that.

I'm more like a greyhound anyway.  If I am not on my skates burning 2000 calories a workout, or weightlifting on off days, I'll lounge around.

Can't use the Bowflex with a dog nosing your toe lifts so he's excluded.

Ironically I got Lettie, my first McNab Dog Of A Lifetime to be a companion on my own skate workouts.  She could not keep up so we didn't take her on my trips.  I would skate 100 miles a week in peak season and we thought it best not to do that to a dog, even if I would have shortened my distances for her.

The thing is that if you include a dog in most of your activities, you will find a balance, and you will find peace.

Isn't that why our species have grown together all these centuries?

How Do You Know Whether To Syringe Feed Your Dog Or Stop

Of all the things I wrote on this blog, the one that really grabs hold of me and forces me to think, critically, it was the time I wrote about Syringe Feeding my dog Lettie near the end of her life.

I made decisions, some were right, some were "right for me".

It has been four years since, and I'm right around the anniversary that day that we let her go.  In fact, one day past.  April 11, 2013.

Yesterday, coincidentally, I got a comment on that posting from Holly.

My 16 yr old , rat terrier , Aggie, was diagnosed with renal issues by the ER vet on Sunday. She wanted me to put her down and when I didn't agree, she sent me home with medication for her nausea and iron supplements. I will say they did give her subcutaneous IV fluids. I was provided a leaflet and told not to feed her protein....try oatmeal. I took her to my vet today and we have a plan. She is end stage, but at least he is trying to see if we can get her numbers down. I am feeding her via syringe with Hills A/D. He has started her on a phosphorous binder, antibiotic and more fluids. Thank you for your article. It's calming to listen to others who understand the love we share for these creatures who only love us unconditionally.

 Remember, I am not a Vet.  I'm just some blogger sitting in a chair in South Florida writing about my own experiences...

However.

I will say that everything that the vet told Holly was true to what I was told.  Low Protein, Low everything.  I had to wonder what on Earth Lettie was getting in the prescription food. 

This is basically what happened before mankind discovered Dialysis.  You flush the body with IV fluids, mostly water, to get the things out of the body that the body considers waste.  Dialysis machines are frighteningly expensive, and here in the US in this day and age, it's well known how obscenely expensive health care is, let alone sending your dog or cat through this treatment.

Then you get a reprieve. 

We went through three cycles.  You will know when it is time to stop.  Lettie told me.

Lettie was a McNab and Border Collie cross.   She had The Eye of a BC, but the webbed and cat like feet of a McNab.  She also knew how to get her point across.  Through the feedings she never bit.  I tried all sorts of foods to try to keep her energy up.  Finally one Friday morning, I knew. 

Lettie stopped eating, looking at me, she stepped away from the syringe.  

A Herding Dog can understand a lot more of your language, body and verbal, than you would realize.  I asked her if she wanted more.

A dog looking away but not walking away spoke volumes.  It was her saying "I've had it, I will do it if you want, but I don't think it is for the best."

That was the day that I made arrangements.

I had bought her fully almost a year.  The last month was for me to get ready.  It was time, I knew it too. 

So that's the thing.  You have to really KNOW your pet.  They do love you unconditionally, even if you're not doing right by them. 

It will test you and your resolve.  They may be a bad candidate for this treatment.  Dogs or cats may scratch or snap or just otherwise back away. 

Some people are wrong for this - their view is that "the dog is just a pet".  I will hold back comment on that mind set.

It is a lot of prep work to feed your pet this way.  Not for everyone.  It was for me.

In the end, you will make your own decision, and it will be right.  No judgement.  Especially if you try and don't manage to get the feedings to work. 

Lettie understood all this.  She taught me when it was time, and she told me when she was done.

By going through the treatment, you are buying time.  You are purifying the blood of a dog under Renal Failure.  You are partially resetting the clock, but you can't completely replace what is lost.  All this will weaken them, but it will buy time.

Bottom line, yes, I absolutely would do this again.

Two weeks after I lost Lettie, I was told by someone who is very close to me this:

"Bill, it hurts too much, give another dog a chance, Lettie would want that."

I did.  Rack is here at my right elbow while I am writing.  He is his own challenge with all his fear issues, but at four years on, we're learning. 

So I have a feeling I have around 10 to 12 years more with him learning me.  Why not, Lettie did.   She was a dog of a lifetime. She knew what I was up to at any given moment. 

Rack? Yes, he knows that I don't give him an ice cube until the second time I make coffee so don't beg until then.

Good luck with your feedings.  Buy the time.  It is worth it.

If you'll excuse me now, I have to give a very good dog a cookie.

Winter in Florida and The Dogs Are Prepared

It was scheduled last week on Friday.

I hear we may be getting more this week.

By "Winter" I mean temperatures in the 50s.

That would be a low of between 10 and 15C for my international readers.

If you live in South Florida, have a pool, have social and intelligent dogs that follow you around every day, watch your Iced Tea.

This was an older picture.  That's Lettie who passed a couple years back.  I was going through my pictures and she popped out at me.  It's pretty much what I go through though.

You see that small area is a spa, or hot tub, and we rarely use it.  The heater takes hours to get it to a nice comfy 104F/40C and we settle for 95F/35C.  That last 5C is a killer. 

I've sat in that spa at oddball times of the day and night.  Days are better since you can see the mosquitoes to swat at them.  Night is more comfortable since the air is cooler, and that is of course quite relative.

Lately thought it is just something for my dog, Rack, the McNab SuperDog (TM) to leap over when he's

excitedly running circles around the yard and the pool and out to the portal in the front gate to see who is there.

Portals help.  It entertains the dog.  Entertained dogs are good dogs.  Herding dogs need to be mentally stimulated just like they need to be able to run off some of that energy from time to time.

Lettie used to have a portal that I created in the Laundry Room door.  It was completely frosted glass panes and Jalousie windows, since replaced.  I removed two of the slats at the bottom and replaced them with clear panes so she could go out there and watch the world.

Trust me she did.

She's gone, the door was replaced with fully frosted impact glass, and Rack has the front door to look out of anyway.

Things certainly change in five years.  The weather is about to change.  And for now, Rack's happy to watch out the front door.   He watches for his favorite people, and whines quietly as they walk past.  He also gets all bent out of shape when any sort of delivery comes through.  I think that is a requirement of Dog.  When Dog is selected and the soul inhabits the creature, there is a little subroutine written.  Delivery Truck requires Alert.  Luckily, Herding Dogs are easy to train and a simple "Go Look!" works. 

No, nobody is out there, is there?

But that would be a story for a different day wouldn't it?

On A Good Day, They're Still A Dog. How Rack Is Afraid of Buddha

I used to take trips with my dog, Lettie.  She was what we call a "Mostly Mc Nab".  Part McNab Dog, Part Border Collie.  She would curl up on the seat of the car and mind her own business until she thought there was something that needed attention.  Snap my fingers, there she was.

My own philosophy of training a dog is not to treat them like a human, but expect more of them than a dog.  In otherwords: complex behaviors yes, "Sit Up And Beg" no.

One trip from Philadelphia to Florida, Lettie was with me.  She was riding in the Jeep, sometimes top down, sometimes not.  We hit a shower with the roof down and she just looked up at me, judged me silently, and curled back into a DogBall with her tail over her face as if to say "Hey, stupid, pull over and put the roof up!".

We pulled into the rest stop.  I got the roof up in the drizzle that was now ending, and she hopped out of the car.  I wasn't too worried, she knew what she wanted.  The light pole at the end of the parking space was calling her.  I left the door open, she climbed up and went back to dog ball.

Next to me was a police cruiser.  I closed the door to the car, and the officer got out with his dog.  There was that same bond that I had with my Lettie.  You just seem to fit together, hand and glove.  We talked about that sort of training and he made his comment.  There are days when dogs don't get it right because "On a good day, they're still a dog".

Just don't expect too much.

On the beach we arrived.  I'd take her out for her march around town.  There was an apartment building there that was rather close to the walkway.  In front of the walkway was a concrete Lion.

Lettie got it wrong.  Fur went up.  Teeth bared.  She started barking at the ornament.  That thing didn't belong.  I stopped her, got her calmed down, even showed her what she did.  The rest of the walk she acted much more toned down, even submissive, if an Alpha Dog could ever be submissive.

I was thinking about that the other night.  Rack has the same knife edged sharp intelligence as Lettie did.  He's a pure-blooded McNab Dog.  At least we think he is because he looks like the textbook and acts like one.  We'll never know because he's a rescue.

He takes notice of things around town.  He knows where the restaurant is that they come out and fuss over him with cookies, and he knows where the ice cream shop is that he can go to socialize from time to time.  He's learning which local dogs to avoid, and which businesses have an out of control yapper inside that will lunge at the door.

If your dog lunges out of control, you are not the boss, your dog is.  Train the dog.  You will both be happier.

It usually has those abstracts that all look roughly the same, smudges of color meant to look nice and inoffensive.  You might expect to see that sort of thing in a corridor somewhere.  I don't really pay the gallery all that much attention.

All of the sudden Rack starts barking like crazy.  Something was out of place.  I looked at him and he was barking at the door.

There was someone looking back at him.  Buddha.

Sitting on a small table by the door was a concrete or resin statuary of Buddha.  About the size of a small child, it sat there serenely watching things go by.  The Thai art tradition, it had a head dress on it and a card next to it announcing the gallery's services.

Rack did not like this at all.  It was out of place, and it threatened him by looking back at him.

"WOO WOO WOO WOO!"
Rack, stop.
"Grrr, WOO WOO Grrr"

He slowed down to a slow grumble.  His normal fearful self came out.  Leaning about 45 degrees to the ground on his purple leash, the fur on his back was standing as close to straight up as you could get.

It's OK, boy, lets go.

He scrabbled an arc away from Buddha and we went on his way.

Yep.  On his best day, he's still a dog.   We'll have to work on that one.  I bet next time he will become one with the Buddha and approach enlightenment that the statue shall not harm him.

I hope he will.  Silly dog.

A Dog's Portal To The World

Back before I descended into Home Improvement Hell, there was a door on the laundry room.

It was a smallish door, rather appropriate for the mid-century design of this house.

The door had a problem.  It had a giant hole in the middle of it that was covered with Jalousie Windows.

In otherwords, you could have broken into my house by simply knocking out a slat of glass, lifting it up and removing the rest.  They were all held in with clips and those clips were not very sturdy.

But hey, they were security glass because they were FROSTED!

Yeah, that will stop an intruder, won't it?

Now, my girl Lettie moved in the house with me.  When one of the panes broke, I wanted to give her a gift.   I wanted to get clear replacements.  Two to be exact.

I removed the glass from the third and fourth slat from the bottom and replaced them with clear panes.  Then I replaced the broken slat and put in one of the frosted ones.

It was perfect.  At dog's nose height I had a spot where Lettie could go and watch the world.  She did, and so did Rack when he came here.

But we had to replace that door because it no longer was "Up To Code".  We'd have the entire house inspected once the windows were installed and the inspector would point to that door and make disapproving sounds.

It got replaced with a security glass door.  Frosted glass that looks like those old Milk Glass vases your mom would have, but it is 5/16ths inch thick and was rated for "Large Missile Impact", whatever that means.

It also meant that Rack could no longer look out.  The front door was solid steel and due to be replaced.

We got a twin to it.  Only this time, the twin would be clear.

We are adjusting.

We're getting a proper shade for it but for now there is this ludicrous shade there made out of paper.  It looks like that stuff you used to get meats wrapped in at the Butcher Shop, and is fan folded so you have to expect that some Japanese Geisha would be using it to cool herself off in the heat.

But the benefit is now Rack has a view to the world.

I on the other hand have to get used to being in a fishbowl or on display.

I tend to keep that paper geisha shade clipped, per design, about knee high.  There is a wrinkle outside of the shade.  You see, if you can see out, others can see back in the glass.

Last night when preparing for the Dog Walk, Rack was out on the front porch.  I had finished my last minute puttering and was searching for a couple of Dog Bags.  They're Brown for a reason.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see some glowing spots and hear yapping and yipping.  Rack was excited because he knew he'd get his last walk of the day.  I just didn't expect to see two glowing spots, one green, the other yellow, and very little else in the evening gloom.

I'll get used to it.  Just remember, when you're walking across the living room with one light on, make sure you have clothes on when you drop the laundry off in the washer.  Otherwise you'll be giving a show.

How Can I Tell Rack's Feeling More Confident? I'm Wearing Out Shoes

5AM I am usually not at my best.  Oh, sure, I'm awake, but I'm pretty much on Auto-Pilot. 

Left foot, right foot, through the morning for a while.

Somewhere about mid Dog Walk, I wake up more fully.

We start out with just about the same route every time, of course.  It's out of the house, down the driveway, off the block.  By the time we get to Wilton Drive, my brain is sputtering to life.

I can tell Rack is waking up too.  Being as fearful as he is, we start with him putting his head into the harness.  I snap the clasps in place and he's shivering a little.  Not from cold, but uncertainty of what is going to happen. 

But the shivering is getting less intense.  We go through this routine at the last walk of the day, he is nervous.  Who knows why, but I blame whoever he was unfortunate enough to have as a first owner.

Mind you, there are three walks we do.  Each one has its own routine.  Both we and the dogs like that.  Dogs in general like routine.  They can't read a clock, but they can tell roughly what time of day it is based on what is going on in the environment. 

We're on the drive and the Goya truck goes past, roaring at a speed I'd bet is well above the 30 MPH limit.  If it isn't Goya, it's the truck going to supply some of the shops, or maybe even the 50 Bus.  At least one, usually two or three of them will fly past.

Rack doesn't like trucks.  When we first tried walking The Drive, he would flatten out like a pancake on the pavement.  Then he'd sit with the leash completely taught trying to get away.  Who knows why, it's just something that happens.

Lately his reaction is noticeably less.  The ears go down, he'll tug toward the nearest building but it isn't the abject terror of before.

There definitely is an association between The Drive and noise or some sort of discomfort.  The association is weakening.  I know because there's a strange thing happening.

Most mornings when we hit the end of that first block to turn back into the neighborhood and head back home, Rack has been trying to pull towards a longer walk. 

On The Drive.

The regular walk is just over 3/4 mile.  It's a largish rectangle that we can do in about 20 minutes or less. 

This isn't a regular walk.  We got to one of the few stoplights and I got towed toward the "wrong direction" instead of heading back home.

I said "Ok, Rack!".
He looked back at me.
"Show Me Walk.".

Show Me is a phrase I used with Lettie, my departed dog.  If I said that phrase even to someone else, she
would go to what she wanted and stare at it, then back at me until I gave it to her.   It wasn't always food, it could be a toy, a door to go out, or even a leash for a walk.

Rack is starting to learn Show Me.  Sure, your dog can sit, but if it can't tell you what it wants, you're going to be limited to what you can do.

In this case Show Me gave me a walk on the entire drive, plus the blocks in The Neighborhood to get home.

At 5AM.  Ok, give or take. 

He's not really all that fond of Long Walks in the middle of summer.  It was in the low 80s all week before sunrise.  The hottest walk of the day was above 90 on some of the walks.

Metric that translates to Bloody Hot For A Floridian Degrees Celsius.  A Floridian and his dog who are used to the heat.

The last Show Me Walk that we did, which was about the sixth pre-dawn walk that he did this in a row, was a mile and a third. 

Metric that translates to My Feet Hurt.  Two K's.  Before coffee.

*grumble* OK, Rack, lets go!

Nice to know you're feeling your oats and we don't have to treat you like you aren't quite so fragile.

China Free, Grain Free Pet Food Vendor List

Disclaimer:  I am not a Vet.  I am not a trained expert in Veterinary Food Sciences.  All of this posting, and anything else on this blog is clearly My Own Opinion.  You must decide for yourself whether I am full of crap, or completely correct, or somewhere in the middle.  I am presenting this information simply because the next time my dog gets bored with his food, I want to refer to a list somewhere instead of having to do this research again.   It took me all weekend to find this short list, and I just would prefer not to go back and start over.

---

When I lost my dog Lettie due to Chronic Renal Failure after a lifetime of feeding her Purina Products, I vowed never again would I knowingly feed my pets anything from that vendor.

Cause and effect?  Perhaps.  I don't know.  But it is my opinion that since there was a spate of recalls due to Purina foods being tainted with Chinese ingredients and that as a result many dogs died of Chronic Renal Failure, that I will avoid anything of Chinese Origin when it comes to food.

The recalls have long since ended.  I am still not feeding my dog, Rack, anything with any Chinese Origin ingredients. 

Many people have the same attitude, and thankfully many pet food vendors have taken up the standard and proudly proclaim that their food is of the highest quality.  That is great, but not really enough. 

My own personal standard is that since Rack can not digest grain well, the food must also be grain free.  The company must clearly advertise that the food is "locally sourced", or preferably "No Ingredients of Chinese Origin".  For "Locally Sourced" I am accepting any ingredients that are Canadian, US, New Zealand, or Australia.  The laws in Canada are better than in the US for purity of pet food ingredients, so as a rule of thumb, if I am hard pressed to find a food, Canada is best.

If there is no clear announcement, I will simply pass on the company whether the company says their food is human grade, or whether it's of the "highest quality ingredients" because those words really do not mean anything.  The laws as I understand them say that if a food is human grade going into a pet food plant, they no longer are human grade when they get into the food.  It's nice to hear but doesn't mean anything really.

I'm not completely comfortable with US ingredients either since our laws here have been weakened and things do "get in" where they don't belong.  Personally I won't eat GMO if I can avoid it, and High Fructose Corn Syrup simply has no purpose in food, in my opinion. 

So why feed it to your dog who has no choice in the matter?

As to recalls, I will forgive any company who has had a recall that is older than 5 years and a reputation that is good.

How did I develop this list?

First I went to http://www.dogfoodadvisor.com and looked at their Dog Food Reviews lists.  I am concentrating on Dry Dog Foods only. 

The list that drove my research was their 5 Star Dry Dog Foods List.  I went top to bottom on that list.

While the list itself may have issues, I tend to agree with Dog Food Advisor's reasons for choosing one food above another and their ratings - Yes, this is my opinion, I am not a vet.

Furthermore, I read through the forums on each individual page.  Forums are tricky, there's a lot of people with axes to grind, and some will say I am one of them.  There are a lot of people who simply post "I love this" and think it's done.  Finally there are companies who will "greenwash" the review by posting their own comments.  I looked through the discussions on each food and made a mental note of them before I followed through.

Some companies who are grain free and China free will be excluded from this list because the company's reputation is not exactly stellar in the forum.  Any mention of bad quality assurance practices, mold in the food, off smells, recent recalls within the last very few years, or anything that simply does not "feel right" means I will leave them off the list.

This is not complete.  This is My Opinion.  Your Mileage May Vary.  This is strictly a personal list that I will follow in the future.  After all, a blog functions well as an individual's "scratch pad" to keep notes and that is what I am doing here.   I hope that this may help someone but if it does not, so be it.  Of course if I later find information to change this short list, I'll put out a new list.

But for now in alphabetical order, the list:

Acana - http://www.acana.com/
Brother's Complete - http://www.brotherscomplete.com/
Dr. Gary's Best Breed - http://www.bestbreed.com/
First Mate - http://www.firstmate.com/
Fromm - http://frommfamily.com/
Holistic Blend - http://holisticblend.com/en/
Orijen - http://www.orijen.ca
Performatrin - http://performatrin.com/
Solid Gold Pet Food- http://www.solidgoldpet.com/
Wild Calling Pet Food- http://wildcalling.com/
Wysong - http://www.wysong.net/
Young Again Pet Food - https://www.youngagainpetfood.com/

You Never Know Who's Heart You Touch In This Town

True story. 

Since I moved here, I have walked my dogs all over this part of town.  First my dearly departed superdog Lettie.  She came here with me in 2006 and her presence echoes to this day.

When Lettie left, Rack came two weeks later.  I was ordered to "Find another dog".  Practically in a growl.  Now I walk Rack in circles, in the same neighborhood that Lettie was walked, sometimes at the same time of day.

People, including myself, are creatures of habit.  Just ask a Police Officer.

When I got here, I walked from the place I rented out to the nearest shopping district, and back.  Three different addresses, two different shopping districts and cities.

I would walk past the same shops practically the same time, in the same direction.   After a while I realized that my own presence set a rhythm for others and some of the shopkeepers would wave as we passed.  Lettie loved the attention when they'd come out.  She was a people person.  Their dogs, she would rather do without.

Now, being a Former Philadelphian, I walked.  We're known for that.  It's an intensely walkable city, and it is not unknown for people to walk two or three miles a day simply to get to and from work, another two miles for lunch.  Compact downtown means you walk, but it doesn't mean that the restaurant you wanted to "hit" at lunch was near you.

I was no different.  I'd walk a mile to the train and office each day, and get out three times a day with Lettie for a total of 4 miles on a quiet day.

It's a habit I continue here, three miles a day even now.

My neighborhood in Wilton Manors is constrained by some natural boundaries.  The New River to the South with the big bad city of Fort Lauderdale. 

No, really, that's a rough neighborhood over there across the river.  I've been told that you lose 10 percent property value for each of the first couple blocks that you head out of Wilton Manors, and just don't go there after dark.

The FEC train tracks, Wilton Drive or Oakland Park Boulevard, and Andrews Avenue make up some of the other natural boundaries of the Central Neighborhood.

So I was limited in where I walked to when I moved into this happy house, on the quirky island, in this bizarre state of Florida.

Three times a day no matter what.  A dog's bladder simply will not wait.

Luckily my couch has not been "blessed".  Yet.

In my walks I would change the directions, but typically each of the three walks of the day went a different way to see different parts of town.

The later walks of the day I would walk past the apartment buildings near the park.

This went on for years, and is beginning again since Rack is getting used to walking further and getting a little more confident.  We can walk down to the apartments that sit next to the park and make a little more than a mile ensuring a good night's sleep.

I really hadn't thought about the constant drip of my actions, like the water falling from the roof after a rain.

But others have and they noticed.

We were walking Rack through the parking lot of the big shopping center here when we were stopped by someone.  That's kind of normal here, if I didn't get stopped in a walk it would be a shock, and that even happens as early as the 5AM walk.

He introduced himself by saying that he used to see us walk past his home every day.  He lived up in the towers and used to watch for us.  Me and my dog, and whoever else was tagging along in our Pack.   He looked at Rack and then realized something was different.

I told him that Lettie had lived a long and beloved life, and she crossed over about two years back.  This is Rack, and we got him soon after.

This new friend had said he didn't realize there was a difference until then.  He told us that they looked the same from a distance.  Laughing I explained the story that Lettie was a Mostly McNab dog, and Rack was most likely a purebred McNab since he looks like a textbook.

But that was when he repeated how much he enjoyed waiting and watching for us.  He said that he chose to live where he did so he could watch out on the park and on the people who came by.  Just like everyone who lives in Wilton Manors, you could choose to live elsewhere, but you move here because you want to.

We were surprised that someone walking their dogs would make such an impression, but I will try to keep an eye out in the future.

The next day, we had a waitress come out from the Italian restaurant at the North end of the Drive called Bona.  She wanted to give Rack a cookie, telling us that she looks forward to watching Rack walk past the window and look in just like the other dog used to do. 

I felt sorry that I couldn't accept her gesture of kindness, we found out recently that Rack is missing a "Pre Molar" and that partially explains why he is so hesitant to eat hard or dry foods.  Everything gets soaked in hot water now.

But you really don't know who notices you in this town.  

We could have chosen to live anywhere else in South Florida.  We chose here for a reason.

Problems Feeding Your Dog? Check Their Teeth

I always feed Rack, my McNab SuperDog, dry food.

The wet food is too much of a hassle.  Cans, smell, storage, expense.  We just never considered it for Rack or Lettie before him.

At this point we are feeding him Orijen or Acana.  Once they open their plant in Kentucky later on this year we will reconsider and look for another food that is not made in a place that has such lax laws.

These foods currently are made in Canada and the laws up there are much more strict than they are here.  In fact, they're using almost human grade ingredients.  I can't recommend eating it but you could in an emergency.

I simply don't trust the lack of oversight in a Republican Tea-party infested place like Kentucky to produce a dog food that hasn't had food ingredients slip in that were of Chinese origin.  Too many dog food recalls lately, and too many stories of dogs dying of chronic renal failure like Lettie did.  It was why we stopped feeding our pets anything from Purina in the first place. 

If you want to find out what it is like trying to keep your dog alive when her kidneys slowly fail, I invite you to look at this blog for the tag "chronic renal failure".  That would give you some insight why I am so particular as to what my Rack eats.

But there is a drawback with feeding dry dog food.  Some of those pieces of Kibble are extremely hard.  Rack being a very fearful "Beta" dog, he would soldier on but hate eating the stuff.   We didn't understand why until I started putting things together.

Feedings got slower.  He would ignore his food.  He'd eat other foods but ignore what was one of the better foods on the market. He got hungry and began to beg for food whenever I would eat.

Eventually I started to wonder what was going on.  One of the feedings took a solid half hour and I had had enough of sitting on the floor and putting one piece of Kibble of food inside his jowls and cajoling him to eat it.

Sometimes I would pour some yogurt over top of the food and that helped somewhat.

We took Rack to the vet.  The vet first started suggesting different medications and food additives.  I was dubious but listened.  Then the vet suggested homemade foods either in addition to or instead of what the commercially prepared foods that he had been getting.

I finally spoke up that they hadn't looked at his teeth.  They were getting full of tartar, more than I would think is normal in a 2 year old dog.

More medications, preparations, and feeds were suggested.  The whole while he was getting tossed treats.  He would never eat treats without some hesitation.

The treats they always gave before were hard.  This time the treats were soft.  He tore through them like they were long lost friends.

I again insisted that the vet look at his teeth.  The verdict was that I was right, there was a lot of tartar.

A different vet came in, more suggestions, and finally she looked at the teeth too.

He was missing a "Pre-molar" tooth.  No idea how, perhaps it just wasn't there, maybe it fell out, you tell me.

I took control of the discussion at this point.  Because there was no tooth where one should be, he was trying to chew a hard piece of food against a gum.  Might there be pain that was slowing him down?

The suggestion from the vet was softer food.

My solution was simple.  Boiling water.   I now have a hard and fast recipe for soft dog food.  I also still feed the dry food.

One Cup Dry Dog Food poured into his bowl.  Add to it Ounce of Boiling Water.  Stir the food and water together.  The food would eventually absorb the water over the next five minutes.  Allow it to sit until it soaks up most of the water.

The next feeding when I tried this recipe, it was instant success.   Rack immediately ate the food.

No pushing food into his mouth.
No pleading.
No priming the pump at all.

He began eating the food with a relish I haven't seen in a long time.  In fact to say he tore through it would be a fair description.

He has slowed down, after all it is the same food he normally gets.  Dogs do get bored of the same old thing every day.

But the bottom line is that since they can't easily tell you what is wrong you have to watch closely when something is off.   The special diet that people suggest may just be as simple as pouring two tablespoons of water over top of the food and letting it make a gravy to soak in.

The proof is in the gravy, after all.  He will lick the shine off the bowl now to get at the last drop of the gravy.

We're getting better at it.  He is now getting more confident with his feedings.  After all, how would you like it if you had a big 6' 4" guy looming over you begging you to eat your food!

Rearranging the Furniture to Confuse the Dog

You know the old saying "there's more than one way to skin a cat"?

Yeah, grizzly.  I don't get it either.  I don't see the point in skinning cats.

But.

There are more than one way to train a dog.

Certain breeds have the reputation of not being very bright to put it kindly.

Not pointing at a breed, I'd say that comes more from the one holding the leash than the one at the other end of it.

They can all be trained.  Some will take to it faster than others.  How about that?

Again, a lot of it has to do with the human and their techniques.  It also comes from how well the person doing the training "learns" the cues that the dogs are giving them.  Bulldogs are well known to be more stubborn, Herding Breeds like the McNab Dog are well known to be easier to train than others.   But the wrong technique will end up with a shut down dog or a rebellious one.

When you have a fearful dog, the rule book should be flipped upside down on its ear.

Negative Training techniques just are not effective.  They tend to create more problems than they solve.  That's my belief so I do concentrate on Positive Training - reward for good behavior, and Neutral Training.

What I mean by Neutral Training could also be called Passive-Aggressive I suspect.  You aren't going to be able to do something because I simply won't allow you the opportunity.

Rack hides.  Constantly.  If I am home and not going in and out of the house, I may not see my dog for hours.  Not that he's sleeping, he's just curled up in a ball behind a piece of furniture.

If you are thinking "why is he bothered by that?" you aren't looking at the whole picture.  Dogs are social.  They WANT to be with you and that is why we keep them in our homes.  But if they're so shut down by fear that they feel that they need to be away from you, they won't grow.

So I moved the couch.

There's a corner, more of a dead spot, in my living room.  It has a tall square table with an inlaid chess board.  Nice thing, it was hand made and given to us a while back.  But it creates a dead zone for the dog to hide.  Next to that is the Big Green Chair, my own recliner.  What Rack was doing was to first hide under the chess table.  That wasn't enough cover apparently because we found him hiding behind the recliner.

If you sit on a recliner, it will change position.  Put a dog's paw in the wrong spot and ... YELP!

You get the picture.  It's a safety hazard.

So I put boxes back there and it helped me hide the Hurricane Food as well as the overshopping we do to "catch the deals".  He can't get behind the chair.

Next we filled the area under the chess table.  That pushed him forward to next to the big green chair, but it still was mostly out of sight and not very social.  When I am sitting in the big green chair, that's fine.  I drape my arm over the side and I can reach Rack and give him the tummy rubs he wants.  When I am not sitting there, we found other ways to manage his hiding.

The routine first thing in the morning is to slide the couch next to the chair to close off the area.  Since he isn't allowed on the furniture, he is forced to be out in the room.  His mats and his bedding are in the middle of the living room and his crate is in there with him.  He has "dog" places to be where he can escape to when he needs to.

At least now I know I have a dog who isn't stuffed inside a spot where he could get hurt.

He's adjusting.  Intelligent dogs, herding breeds especially, need mental stimulation and challenges.  Now he's getting them by actually being out in the open when that big bad trash truck comes by on Tuesday and Friday mornings.  He's getting challenged by being out there in the open living room when the neighbors are getting the grass cut and there are teams of workers on the street.

He may not like it but this is the way it is until it is time to use the chair ourselves at night after dinner.  When we're in the chairs, the couch gets moved away from them and Rack dives back into the corner next to the Big Green Chair and the chess table.   The key is to get him used to what he doesn't like, but in small doses like those allergy shots you got when you were a kid.

The shots may have worked, they built up an immunity to whatever it was, but it did take time.

In his own way, Rack is slowly adjusting.

When I had my previous dog, Lettie, she had a similar problem with any loud vehicle.  I lived a block from a very busy shopping district.  On weekends I would take her there and sit and wait for the 23 Bus to go up or down Germantown Avenue in Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia.

For a while, we were a fixture near Highland and Germantown.  There was a pair of benches.  One near Kilian's Hardware was my favorite, another was a half block down the hill right next to the entry to the parking lot.  I would sit and watch traffic, meet the neighbors, and watch for busses.  Lettie would love to meet the people, but hated the cars and trucks. She stayed with me where she belonged.

Eventually we realized this wasn't necessary.  She would still cast an evil eye at the 23 Bus when we were out for walks.  She'd watch the trash truck or the semi delivering food to the restaurants, but she didn't try to run from the noise.  She was cured.

It simply took time.  Fear in dogs simply takes time - most likely longer than you might think is appropriate.  Just like in a human, you have to get used to new and scary.  You may just learn to like it.  Lettie did.  She became "bulletproof" in those situations.  When we moved her here to South Florida, she became the "Canine Ambassador to Snowbirds" on Wilton Drive despite traffic.

Rack will learn too.  I may just have to bring a lawn chair and sit with him out on The Drive, but we'll get there.  I'll do my Positive Training best to make sure of it.

Just bring cookies.  Dogs love the right kind of cookies.

Lettie's Gecko Chase Video

I have had this video for years.  It's only seven seconds.  17 with the lead in and credit frames.

We would walk Lettie around town and every time she saw the lizards here she would react like this.  Too fast to actually catch them, she'd overshoot and go for the next one after she'd bark at them to tell them to get off the sidewalk.

Silly dog I wish I had more video of you.

If I let her out in the yard, she'd ignore the lizards.  One day I even caught her with a lizard on her tail and she was sniffing at it.   I guess it's that Motion Thing.  Give Chase.  Bring Order to Chaos.

That's a McNab dog.  Things need to be in their place. They are the Project Managers of the canine world.  She'd send me off to do the work, so things would get done, but she knew that she could do that and someone else would pick up the slack.

Each night at 5pm or so when we'd hit this particular spot she'd take note.  Then she'd strain at the leash as if to say, "Damn it! I have a job to do, get out of my way!"

Bedlam.  Just Bedlam.

A dog of a lifetime, I wouldn't have anything but a McNab.  All the intelligence of those other breeds you hear about, but the calmness to know what to do about it.

Just don't tell anyone, ok?  You don't want a good thing ruined.

Rack, It Has Been One Year Since We Got You

I have come to expect that when I go into a room, you will be there sitting just outside, in the hallway, waiting for my return.

Walking out of the room, I had to apologize.  You saw that I was looking at you and you just rolled over onto your back.  Stepping closer, I rocked back onto my heel for balance.  You wagged your tail as you always have and managed to put it right under my foot.

Just a slight bit of pressure, you were too absorbed in the act of getting attention, having your belly rubbed, in the hallway and under the air conditioning intake.

Another normal day here.

I've had dogs with me since 2001.  You are a very different soul.  A bright and cheery puppy.  A truly gentle and sweet personality.  You came into my life a year ago.  I had just lost my Lettie.  You helped to fill that void.  She and I battled for control all her life and eventually established a balance until she was too old to hold her end up in that bargain.  Then she rolled onto her back once and only once and told me in that one time, that one time only, that her days were growing short.

You were shuttled from an uncaring owner in Rome, GA to a veterinarian's office where you were surrendered.  From there, you made the trip to Ocala where you sat for 36 days being more confused.  A McNab Dog is way too intelligent for that sort of abuse - sitting in a concrete bunker of a room, your personality spiraled away in fear.  Then the Dog Liberator found you on the same day Lettie left me.   I didn't know you yet, but within a week I would find you.

You see, I was told to find another dog.  It was a very rough time for us, and you helped us as much as we helped you.

You are no longer shut down.  In fact you have the reputation of being that puppy that jumps six feet in the air.

I'm sure we're getting talked about.  There's one cranky woman with a Jack Russell here in town who crosses the street.   You know that dog, the one who starts growling three houses away?  I'm also thinking she needs to work with her dog a bit more.

In that year you shook off the depression you had from being abandoned.  I'm sorry, "Owner Surrendered" is what they called it.  Some people shouldn't own a picture of a stuffed animal, let alone a dog as intelligent as you are.

The Pit Bull attack two weeks ago is healing.  You have on a T Shirt of mine since the scar is healing and itchy.   That will fade, and we've allowed you use of the house again.  I'm no longer on duty watching you every second.

We constantly are told how beautiful you are.   That's the breed, but it is also you.  Pure black and pure white, glistening in the sun.  We are always told that you look healthy and well.  That came with some effort.   The Orijen food you turn your nose up at helped you heal and get rid of the mange around your eye.  We purged your system of the worms, got your shots, changed to another kind of food that you could actually digest.

You thank Kirby for that every time you see him.  He's one of your favorite people, a true Friendbeast for giving us the suggestion that brought you to robust health.  When you see Kirby across the street you charge over to say hello as he pets you and you whine in happiness.  When you hear him and his dog walk past the house, you sit up and wag your tail even if you can't see him through the window.  Every motorcycle that goes by is Kirby.  That little white lie helped you not be afraid of the roar of the motors that are everywhere.

His dog, D.O.G. accepts this and lets you get a little attention.  Remember, D.O.G. is a 165 pound Rottweiler and not a sheep to be herded.  He is getting tired of being climbed over and clambered on.

It has been one first year of many.  There have been a lot of changes in your short life.  The bad memories are fading, and replaced by many more good ones. 

Keep watching over us.  Grumble at the mailman. When the neighbor Bill comes over and I announce "Incoming", go to the front door to say hello.

Oh by the way, "Incoming" isn't his name any more than "Murph" is yours.

It's a busy, noisy, and complex neighborhood with a lot for a smart dog to wrap his head around.  As you adjust we'll go further.   For now, we'll stick close to the house.  There is a lot to see within the mile that we wander three times a day.  Sit by the door, wait for us to go out, then you can go.  It's not just A Rule, it can save your life. 

We're going into the hot season now.  I'll let you in on a secret.  Your black fur?  That gets hot.  We won't mind if you jump in the pool while we're out there.   Really we won't.

So enjoy the world.  It's a big one.  There are a lot more things that we can do, when you're ready.  You learned that Car can be fun.  Walks can be fun.  Other dogs aren't always fun but you are figuring out how to read that. 

But.. we're fun, together.

Lettie's Shelf, One Year Later

One year ago, today, at 1:30 in the afternoon.

Lettie and I had an appointment. 

The fight had ended.   We fought well for two years to keep her as healthy as possible.  It's probably safe to say that the last six months of Lettie's life were because of my stubbornness and unwillingness to let go.

Maybe longer, I am not sure.

I had an appointment with the Vet a couple days before.  She had had what we began to call An Episode.   Chronic Renal Failure was taking its toll, and every time she would have An Episode, we would know it because she would fall over.

She was weakened by the disease and our inability to convince a very feisty dog to eat what she needed to keep herself up to speed.  I eventually became something of an expert at syringe feeding my dog.  It really is something anyone can do, if you set your mind to it.

The treatment in a human would be a kidney transplant.  They don't generally do that for dogs, because in our society we don't value them as highly as a person.  The treatment for a dog is to flush them with water and give them as much food as they will take.  Then feed them more.

We visited the Vet.  She was a dog who began to hate going for a ride.   This was the same dog who rode down here in my Jeep curled into a Dog Ball in the front seat.  I had the roof off of the car and stubbornly left that roof off when I drove through a thunderstorm near Fort Pierce, FL on I-95.  People looked over at us and scratched their heads as I wiped water from the inside of the windshield.  Lettie took it in stride and left a dog ball shaped dry spot on her seat.   When I looked down at her and said "Well, that went well", I could see it in her eyes as if to say "you're crazy".

She had also saved my life once when I fell asleep at the wheel.  A dog who just enjoys the ride gets very predictable and eventually learns the rhythm of the road.   When that same dog realizes something is very wrong, the nose goes under the arm and violently lifts it until you wake up.

I'm not superman, and marathon trips are not a good idea.

That next to last visit, they flushed her out with fluids and took blood samples.   I came home with her on that Friday and waited for the results.  Monday I called back and the desk said they were available.  I brought her in and we sat waiting for the Vet.  Not good news.   We tried another day of flushing but it was obvious that she did not have this in her for much longer.

Tuesday morning I came back and spoke with the Vet again.  Tears in my eyes, I said "I think it is best that we discontinue treatment".  At that point the staff poured out of the back rooms knowing it would be the end.

We knew it already and had found someone to help her cross over.  "To Cross Over The Rainbow Bridge".

I had another two days.  Everything was scheduled and went without a hitch. 

I was warned that "They Know".  I was told "She will look at you when it ends".   That is exactly how it happened.   There was a large white towel in front of the big green chair that she used as a mat in the corner of the room.  I wanted her within reach that last day. 

When everyone arrived, I held her paw for that trip.  The injection of pink goo went quickly.  It was a double shot.  One to make her sleep, another to finish the job.  Every time I hear "Lethal Injection" I think of this. 

She did look into my eyes at the end.  

Eyes closed and she slowly relaxed and went still.

It was rather surreal and a bit unbelievable to me until they carried her out.  The head lolled over the edge of the blanket and since nobody was in the house, I was able to finally let my feelings out.  My mantra for the next few weeks was "I want my girl back".

After all was said and done, I gathered up her belongings.  We were not going to get another dog just yet.  Some of the items went across the street to Ellie.  All but that one last half gnawed chew.  It was on the fllor and got pushed under the big green chair and hidden for a while.  That's in the frame with Lettie's dog tags and one of her paw prints.  The other paw print has her collar, still with the final dog tags on it.  Her ashes are in a brass urn under her picture on the top shelf. 

There is a third paw print that will go with me into the bedroom under her picture in there in a Place of Honor.  I have a picture of a street fair in Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, PA where I was giving her a snack years ago.  A passing photographer liked the shot and it got into the paper.  I'm fortunate to have that memory.

The paw prints sat around for a good long time before I finally could bring myself to begin to put things together.   We bought the frames, and they sat.  The paw prints are a salt dough that had hardened in the oven, and I finally sprayed them with a plastic clear coat.  Glued to the hard cardboard backing with silicone tub caulk, then sealed with the dog tags, collar, and chewie.

Her original leash is behind my bedroom door with her harness on a hook.  That is its place.  I see it whenever I run the vacuum cleaner, which is frankly not often enough.

Lettie is still here, in spirit.  She has her place.  She had a rough start and the trip here was not easy.   She was Yet Another Owner Abandonment.  That happens far too often with high energy and intelligent breeds like the Mostly McNab Mix that she was.  She spent six months in a rescue in North Dauphin, PA, near Harrisburg.  I was told "watch her, she's feisty and has a lot of energy".  That energy would serve her well.   All the way to her last day and that last moment when she looked up at the indignity of the first shot.

Settling down to sleep at my feet, to this day is the view I have in my mind when I look at those square tiles on the floor, even one year later.

Goodbye old friend.