A Home Is Found

[JC filling in for Sherman again] Good news! DINKH has found his furever home. A fellow I know through one of my hobbies was interested in the DINKHster, and on Thursday, April 21st he headed to his new home.

DINKH didn't seem too concerned about all the goings on. We loaded up in the station wagin and headed out to meet up with William at the Forsyth County Jail that evening. Introductions were made, and after a little while of socializing and passing along all his info, DINKH had no hesitation about leaping into the back of an unfamiliar car. William's wife and 2 kids couldn't make it, but he was well received at home. DINKH has formally been renamed 'Tango', a name which I think is quite excellent (even though he'll always be DINKH to us).

Also good news, DINKH will be receiving top notch heartworm care. He started 30 days of Doxycycline, an antibiotic. It turns out that heartworms, which are a parasite, have a parasite inside of them. The Doxycycline kills off the parasite, which in turn weakens the heartworm. After the Doxy regimen, an injection of Immiticide is given. 30 days later, two more injections are given, 24 hours apart. For 60 days from the first injection, DINKH will have to have an absolute minimum of activity, and remain crated most of the time. This because while the heartworms are dying, there is a risk of them breaking up and causing a pulmonary embolism. What's desired is that the worms slowly decay and are eliminated through urination. This is going to be a bummer of a time for DINKH.

However miserable he is for 60 days, it's a small price to pay for killing those creepy heartworms and giving him the normal life span of a healthy dog. There is some risk associated with the procedure, but DINKH is otherwise healthy, and the vet felt really good about how he handled the anesthesia when he had his harbls removed.

On the home front, Sherman does seem to miss DINKH. They had gotten pretty tight, and enjoyed charging around the house playing (which as I mentioned before, usually meant DINKH putting his mouth around Sherm's neck and "winning"). When we got back from handling DINKH over, we went upstairs, let Sherman out, and he went racing back to the bedroom waiting for DINKH to be let out of his crate. No DINKH! Very sad, guess we'll have to foster a GSD to keep Sherm company :)

In one of those many examples of the "small world" syndrome we run into, it turns out Meghan used to work at a Banfield veterinary clinic at a Petsmart. I was telling the DINKH story to my dental hygienist and had gotten to the part about describing Meghan's outgoing nature when Marla (the hygienist) says "Was her name Meghan Seabolt?". When Marla had gotten her boxer, they went to Petsmart for a basic checkup and ended up liking Meghan so much they stayed with her. Indeed, a small world!

Next time, we'll be back to our regular Sherman programming, and we'll find out how Sherm did after a day at the Camp Woof doggy day care center.

*woof*

Cones Of Shame

(If you're just coming in on this, you may want to read part I or Part II).

Sherman has graciously allowed me to write the text for the Story Of DINKH. He'll return to his regular dictorial (What? Oh. Sherman says that's supposed to be dictation) in the next posts.

As mentioned in part II, DINKH had a meeting with Dr. Knife and lost his doghood. And you may recall from an earlier posting where Sherman mentioned nearly losing his pee-pee. Seeing as we have NO interest in that happening again, we made sure to acquire a Cone of Shame, otherwise known as an Elizbethan Collar, or e-collar. This one above came from Petsmart. DINKH was relatively tolerant of it, but still managed to reach his incision and lick at it. Not badly, but we didn't want ANY of that action going on.

Friday on my way in to work I stopped at a pet supply store and picked up the Pro Collar. It's an inflatable style and supposed to be better all the way around. For $28, it damn well ought to be. See picture below.

As you can see, it basically looks like DINKH ran into a tire inner tube and lost. He seems to be tolerant of it as well, but I think he can still manage to reach "down there". Fortunately, he hasn't really shown that much interest in licking his incision, and most of the time he's close to Cindy or myself, so we can stop him. The longer he goes without messing with it, the better. Inspections several times a day show that it's healing well.

We're now up to Saturday night, about 10pm. Things are going well, everyone mostly gets along with only the very occasional border skirmish. Sherman tries to get DINKH to play, but we have to put a stop to that until DINKH's 7 to 10 day healing period is over.

The big decision now is what to do with him. Cindy and I both have grown rather fond of him, and Sherman has a playmate that can keep up with him. I do know that if my friend does take him, he'll have a good home, so I'm not really worried about that aspect of it. DINKH learns fast, seems to like to please, and I think with some training would be a stellar dog. Did I mention we're both fond of him? :)

One thing I forgot to mention in an earlier post is how much this dog can PEE! I swear that his bladder is actually a gateway into another galaxy comprised entirely of pee. We live on 2.2 acres, and I'd swear that in the first 2 days this dog marked each and every tree on property at least twice. Where as Sherman will whiz once on his outing, DINKH goes from tree to bush to tree to tree to... you get the idea. Seriously, half his internal body space must be devoted to his bladder.

That brings the Story of DINKH up to date. Sherman will let you know in a post in a few days where DINKH winds up. Sherman The Self-Centered Dog would also like to remind everyone that this blog is about >him< but since it's a fellow GSD that we're talking about, he's granting the space and bandwidth.

Until next time, on behalf of the Wren pack (Sherman, Makeeta, Moon, JC, Cindy and for now, DINKH), best wishes to all our doggy and human friends out there.

*woof*

DINKH Moves In

(If you're just tuning in, read part I first, where we first meet DINKH).

It's now March 31st, and I'm trying to figure out what to do with this dog. We have Sherman (of course), Makeeta (a Shiloh Shepherd, about 10 years old), and Moon (the 1000 year-old Golden Retriever). We don't need 4 dogs. Space is tight, and it's more food, vetting, flea & tick dip, and time. However, being the sucker I am for GSD's, I'm sure not going to turn him out in to the street, or dump him at the pound.

Since Sherman last posted, we've gotten involved somewhat with Canine Pet Rescue, a rescue group that handles mostly GSDs and the occasional mini-Australian Shepherd. We've run transport for several dogs now, picking one up in Anderson, SC, a pair of mini's up in Chattanooga, TN, and I've run a couple pregnant females from the Dekalb County Animal Shelter to the rescue facility. I give CPR a call, and basically, because he's a middle-aged dog, he's HW+ and may have ACL damage, he's not a good candidate for placement. I do get him into the vet the group uses for his rabies and bordetella vaccines, and a fecal float. Turns out the ACL damage may just be a sprain as the limp seems to be lessening quite a bit.

At this point we now have about $75 in him. He's still HW+, still un-neutered, and still not sure what's going to happen. We've started letting our dogs near him while he's in the crate, and over the next couple days make introductions in the garage. He and Sherman play, and play hard. It's good to watch Sherman find a buddy that'll play like he does. Makeeta will occasionally, but only when the mood strikes her. Moon does not play. Ever.

Over the next couple days, Cindy starts bringing him upstairs while I'm at work, only letting one dog at a him interact with him. He explores the house, getting to know the area.

Poor DINKH sleeps in his crate in the basement while everyone else is upstairs. There's some whining when everyone leaves him for the night, but he settles down. Nonetheless, I feel bad for him. Here he is, a lonely guy, isolated from a pack that likes him. I think it's on Thursday, April 7th that I decide he should stay the night upstairs, in a crate in the bedroom. Sherman and I head to bed, bringing DINKH in. Sherman doesn't seem to mind that he's in the same room. "Screw it," I think, "I'm going to leave him out unless there's a problem." DINKH hops up on to the bed, and sacks out for the night. As far as he's concerned, he's home.

Our Facebook friends laugh at us, telling us "Congratulations on your new dog!". "No, " we say, "he's just waiting to find a furever home". And in fact, one fellow that I shoot with on the weekends, a cop with Forsyth county, is interested in meeting him. He and his little girl have just had their tonsils out, so there's a recovery period before they're ready to really meet and greet with DINKH. Plus, I'd like to finish vetting him out as much as possible to make him more desirable for adoption.

We're now up to Thursday, March 14th. DINKH sleeps in the bedroom, pals around with the other dogs, and generally is living the sweet life. But his big adventure today is to get neutered ("Hey, guys, guess what! I'm going to the vet to get tutored!"). I've called around and Hall County Animal Shelter is the cheapest place going at $50. While he's there he's also going to get microchipped. At $20, it's a no-brainer. Tags may get lost, microchips can't.

DINKH gets picked up at 4:30pm, and I spend a little quality time chatting with Dr. Meghan Seabolt (is that a cool name or what?). There is a possibility that we may be able to get shelter pricing on fixing DINKH's heartworm issue. Doing it through our regular vet is $800+, and the Atlanta Humane Society (which seems incapable of having a human answer the phone or returning voicemal) is about $655. In any case, NOT treating it is NOT an option.

In what may be one of the smaller mysteries in life, after his surgery, DINKH has a green line tattooed near his missing harbls. "What's the green line for?" I ask. "To indicate he's been neutered." is the reply. "..." I say. Yea. I'm pretty sure you can tell if your MALE dog is missing his harbls or not. Females, I can understand. Ah, the logic of bureaucracy.

On to part III for the conclusion.

An Intruder Upon My Property!

Yes, that's not me! This is DINKH (his name is all caps, which will be explained later). I realize I have not posted anything new in almost 8 months. I blame my human, who hasn't seen fit to keep the world updated with the exciting adventures in my life. OTOH, there really hasn't been that much excitement until about 3 weeks ago. Since dictating is kind of slow, I'm going to let JC do the reporting here, since he knows all the facts anyway.

[JC here. Thanks, Sherm!] On March 28th this year, Cindy (Sherm's other human) was taking Makeeta out for her morning walk, when she felt like she was being watched. Looking up at the back porch (image), she saw a pair of eyes staring at her. Her first reaction was "What is Sherman doing on the back porch?" followed by "That's not Sherman...". She proceeded to take Makeeta in through the front door, put her up, then come and find me. We look out the back door, and here's this mostly German Shepherd Dog curled up on the doormat in front of the door.

I go out through the front door, around the side, and at the corner I kneel down and cluck to the dog. He pops up, trots over and licks my hand. I see that he has a collar but no tags, and he's also limping on his back right leg a little. I call the office and tell them I'm going to be a little late coming in...

Grabbing a leash, I load him into the Shermobile (the 1993 Buick Roadmaster Estate Wagon), and carry him up to a local vet. We go in, and the receptionist tells us that the doctor is in surgery and won't be out for an hour, and a visit is $50. Apparently they have no rescue/stray pricing policies, which I consider pretty lame. The receptionist gets out the microchip scanner and runs it over him, but comes up with nothing. She offers to take a picture and put it on Facebook, so we do that. Checking later, I find that you have to 'friend' them to be able to *see* their pictures, so really, what's the point? You'd think a business would have a more public profile. Oh well.

Giving a call to our regular vet (Chateau Animal Hospital), they say they can see him any time. I swing back by the house to pick up Cindy and we motor out to CAH. Dr. Betteker checks him out, and believes him to have a damaged anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), but otherwise appears healthy. Age is estimated to be about 3 years, and oh yes, he's un-neutered. Oh a whim, I have him run a heartworm test, which comes up positive, to my dismay. Checkout cost is about $36, which is the office visit and heartworm check. I consider that quite acceptable. When they ask for his name, I tell them it's DINKH -- Dammit, I'm Not Keeping Him.

We have a couple crates available to house him in, so we bring one down to the basement. It's large enough for a few hours at a time, but not for extended living. I make a call to a friend ours, and on Tuesday night borrow a crate large enough for a small horse. Or at least a Great Dane... DINKH is installed into basement living quarters while we figure out what to do.

On the 29th I put an ad on CraigsList, with the closing sentence: "If this is your dog, email me and identify exactly what his collar looks like, and why I should give him back to you at all.". Why anyone has a 3 year old GSD with no tags, no chip, un-neutered and HW+ doesn't deserve to have this dog back. He's a super nice dog who deserves far better.

This post is getting a little long, so see part II for the rest of the story.