Sunday, April 23, 2017

LIVING ON MIRACLES

About a year after she came to live with me, Sophie suffered a stroke or something similar. Totally lost control of her bladder, head tilted to the right, right eye twitching, couldn’t stand. But she was determined! Three days later she stood and went outside to do her bathroom business. She was not through with this physical life yet!

We made it two more years before Sophie started telling me her transition time was near. For four months–from the time a tumor at the base of her tail appeared–she tried to make me promise to help her across the Rainbow Bridge when the time came.

But we had already pulled off a miracle or two, and I wanted another one. I had made other promises, but wouldn’t promise to help her go.


However, her physical body became sadly emaciated, no matter how much I tried to feed her and what goodies I tempted her with. And the cancerous growth at the base of her tail didn’t heal.

Finally, she refused to leave the vet’s office, insisting it was time to go Home. I reluctantly agreed, as she knew I would, and she was gone in an instant. Only the determined survival instinct in her heroic physical body kept her hanging on. Broken-hearted once more, I took her body to be cremated.

Looking back, I can see my Sophie was a Warrior Girl who found a better way. Her survival instincts were strong, as witnessed by her living three years after others had written her off and by needing a nudge to leave the physical body behind. But she had learned to live peacefully, with grace and strength, in this modern day world.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

TALKING DOGS! DISAPPEARING TIME MACHINES! NEW COVER!

Announcing a new cover for
NO MORE POODLE SKIRTS!

Digital versions just 99 cents
for a limited time!

Daphne Madison has drifted for years in the innocent age of the 1950s. When her daughter follows her military husband to another state and her son falls in love with an elfenchaun, Daphne decides it's time to rejoin today's world. She searches for a career with the help of her sister, an eccentric artist with a penchant for bringing home stray people and talking dogs. She also longs for a new love who can accept exploding inventions and malfunctioning time machines, an everyday occurrence in her zany family.

The sale of this and other books in the Aunt Maddie's Doggone Misadventures series helps provide food and a place to sniff and play for Quantum Canines.

Saturday, April 15, 2017

THE FUN POLICE

I’d never had a Giant Schnauzer before. Sophie taught me all I needed to know. Heroic and strong, my Sophie relished her role as the fun police. Whenever the younger dogs would dash into the back yard and start to play, she’d hurry behind them, barking insistently until they stopped. Then she would look at me and snicker, while the younger dogs would beg me to make her stop.

Looking up the breed on the Internet, I discovered the Giant Schnauzer is a working breed of dog developed in the 17th century in Germany. It was unknown outside of Bavaria until it became popular as a military dog during World War I and World War II. The first Giant Schnauzers were imported to America in the 1930s, but didn't become popular until the 1960s. In 1962, there were 23 new Giant Schnauzers registered with the American Kennel Club; by 1987 it was around 1000 animals. Over the years the Giant Schnauzer has shown outstanding abilities in search and rescue, schutzhund, conformation, obedience and agility thus earning the reputation as a handsome, intelligent and truly versatile working dog. [from Wikipedia and Westminster Kennel Club web sites.]


Miss Sophie was a law unto herself. Though not a formal Alpha Dog, she was a respected matriarch and loved barking with much enthusiasm when the younger dogs played. Shows of affection, such as when Stewart gave her a big, sloppy doggy kiss, seemed to surprise and baffle her. However, she loved to be brushed and soaked up all the Reiki offered to her.

Saturday, April 8, 2017

SOPHIE'S STORY

Though I didn’t know it at the time, Sophie's previous owner had been ill quite awhile and not able to take care of her. When he died, the relatives kept the small dog and took Sophie to the shelter. In addition, her littermate had died a few months before. So she was mourning as well as having a massive bladder-and-more infection.

When I heard her story and learned she was considered unadoptable because she was twelve years old and incontinent, I stated, “Well, I’ll adopt her.”

Totally relieved, staff cautioned me this would probably be for hospice. I just smiled. By then, Sophie and I had talked. She said we’d have two or three years, and I promised I would keep her and love her as long as she decided to stay on this plane.

Armed with medicine for the infection and an appointment with the groomer in a couple days, Sophie went home with me. When we arrived, I realized she was matted with feces and urine. Not pleased this hadn’t been taken care of, I cleaned her up and trimmed the hair on her backside as best I could. The groomer could do his magic on the rest of her in a couple days.


With that little bit of care, Miss Sophie’s true personality began to shine through. The first evening, she proudly TROTTED down the sidewalk. Not the action of a lady ready to make her transition.

Sunday, April 2, 2017

BREAKING PERSONAL RULES FOR SOPHIE

I broke a number of personal rules with Sophie. When I worked at the shelter, I rarely insisted on a specific course of action for a dog. It wasn’t my role. I also made it a rule not to make promises to a dog I might not be able to keep. I did both with Sophie.

The first time I saw her, she was laying in deathly stillness in one of the stray kennels. A big, black dog and I was in love again.