Goodbye, Dusty

Sad times tonight--our dog, Dusty, left us to cross the Rainbow Bridge.

Dusty was a Schnocker--half Schnauzer, half Cocker Spaniel, that we adopted in September of 2012 as a 13th birthday present for our daughter. Depending on whether she was clipped or in her shaggy winter coat, she could look like a whole different dog. Here she is the day we adopted her:

We never knew her true age, but the vet estimated she was around 14-16 years old at the time of her death. The old lady had gone deaf and mostly blind over the last two years, but got around just fine. 

Over the years, Dusty sometimes didn't use her best judgement...

 

But she took the kid's toys and the silly things her humans did in stride. 

 

And she was only a water dog when SHE wanted to be one, thank you; and it was NOT during bath time.

But once bath time was over, was her happy self once more.

 

 Dusty fiercely defended her yard against all invaders.

 

...until she lost interest, even though the deer still wanted to play.

 

But eventually they gave up and left.

But recently Dusty had a vestigal stroke--and we knew her time was coming. She had recovered very well from the stroke, just as our vet thought she would, and was back to her usual self, outside of a slight head tilt.

Then Dusty stopped eating regularly over the last week, so we braced ourselves and made her as comfortable and happy as we could--she loved the canned dog food she ate in small amounts. She wasn't sick, just very, very old. Tonight Dusty took a turn for the worse and we knew it was time. The vet had us bring her over--they have a small, private grassy area behind their building, it has a bench under a tree where you can sit with your friend while they make their exit. The vet brought out a nice blanket for Dusty to rest on, and her departure was quick and quiet.

She was an an excellent dog, very sweet and we loved her. Her companion, our little (also aged) Chihuahua/Dachsund mix, Daphne, is clearly wondering where Dusty is; we'll show her extra attention and give her walks & goodies for the next week or so to help her adjust.

Good girl, Dusty...we'll miss you.

Happy Easter!

The bulbs in my front yard are finally coming up...

And my plum tree is blooming!  Maybe it'll fruit this year...

 The chickens were happy to see the sun...

Cam posed nicely.

Cam also reminded the banty boys who was boss. The Head Roo calling lesser roos for food like this, especially when he has nothing, as Cam does, here, is a major diss--he's treating them like hens.

Tingle climbed in the kid's lap and gave her a snuggle.

The weather had cleared long enough this afternoon to have our Easter egg hunt, which the kid still enjoys...

 

Though sometimes finding the eggs can be difficult.


Luckily, Dusty is happy to help. She picked up a red one and followed the kid back across the yard...

Being a Cocker Spaniel mix and a soft mouth, she held the one she found very gently and gave it up when asked.

Good girl!

Meanwhile In Nevada, My Poultry STILL Hates Me...

...but what else is new--inexplicable chicken 'tude is one of the joys of Winter.  Nothing for it but to arm yourself with chicken goodies.

This morning we had our heaviest snowfall yet.  Which was very pretty, as usual!

It iced the neighbor's trees...

And our patio set.

Out back I slog to go free the chickens from their snug, heated coop so they could stare in disbelief at this fresh Hell.  And throw blame where it obviously lies, with me.

The snow out back was a bit deeper and came up halfway to my knees (But I'm quite short, so take that into consideration, it's possibly not as impressive as it sounds at first blush).  The walkway had disappeared...

And opening the gate to the chicken yard required me having a go at the snow with a shovel first.

In the chicken yard I plonked down the ruler I'd brought along...

Yup, 7 inches of snow fell overnight.

The chicken yard, for a change, looks uniformly pretty.  Bonus:  the snow covers all those eternally present damned rocks.

My future vegetable garden area sealed off by snow.

And the neighbor's trees were gorgeous!

By now the sun was coming up and it was time to release the pissy poultry.

The backyard weather station says, 'Snow!'

 
 Yup, chickens not happy.  This is as far as they venture out of the coop all day, because God forbid a chicken foot *ever* touch snow.  Goodies are promised for later.

Back into the back yard near the house to let Dusty out to do her thing.

Which due to the depth of the snow combined with her short stature, she is understandably reluctant to do.

But in the end she dutifully slogs through the snow to pick her spot.  A full bladder cannot be denied.

She compromises when the snow becomes too deep and abandons her regular pee spot, instead squatting *very* carefully behind the tree.   I feel for ya, dog.  Hovering so your lady bits do not contact undesireable surfaces is an art all we ladies eventually learn.

Dog Shaming...

The other day we were watching a craptacular Roger Corman chunk called 'Camel Spiders' on TV, mostly due to the fact that it was shot at the old abandoned ore processing plant at Owens Lake, in and around the Alabama Hills and several other sites (hello Ranch House Cafe!) along Highway 395 that we know.

During the movie the kid went and got a couple of her toys to entertain Dusty.

She was less than excited. Dog 'Meh'. So the kid upped the ante. This one at least earned a confused look.

And yes, my kid owns several giant insects, she loves them. No Barbies for her.

The expression here is mostly, 'Oh, is this a thing? Are we doing a thing? What the Hell is goin' on here, mom?'

...and then back to Dog 'Meh'.

In other news, Dusty managed to injure herself up under her tail, then chew the spot raw and would NOT leave the damned spot alone. Yeah, Cone Of Shame time.

Rather that a true cone which she no doubt would have used to knock everything off dog-level tables and destroy furniture, we went with a towel safely wrapped around her neck, it works very nicely to keep her from chewing her sore tail. She gets around, eats & drinks just fine with it, but is horribly embarassed by it.

Plus I got that 'Seriously...?' look out of her. Yup, 'fraid so Dusty, for now.

Bath Day!

Dusty was looking and smelling...well, dusty. So today she got a bath.

She was not impressed.

But later, after she was dry, she did the typical over-the-top happy dog thing and rolled on the carpet with the kid.

We're letting her fur grow out a bit, probably not much longer than this, but her little eyebrows are sure cute and she has quite the 'Benji' look going.

Dog Days Of Fall...

So yesterday we whisked Dusty off to the vet for her shots, and also because the night before we'd caught her scooting her bottom across the carpet, much to our delight.

When I was a kid, catching your dog doing the boot scoot boogie across the floor usually meant one thing--worms.

It turns out that these days there is a more likely culprit, at least in smaller dogs. It's blocked anal glands, of all the charming notions. So our vet said to bring in a fecal sample along with us in order to rule out parasites. Under Dusty's disbelieving eye we collected our treasure and went along to the vet, where Dusty ignored the little dogs and growled at the big ones--in particular a very large, beautiful Smooth Coat Collie who entered the office like a rock star, exuding an 'I'm HERE, everyone, yay me!' air.

Eventually we got taken back to an exam room, where Dusty has to be held by us while the vet tech takes her temperature, in the only region you CAN on a dog. We make the requisite jokes about 'she didn't even buy you dinner' while all this is going on, Dusty just looks confused and embarassed. Like most vets they like to take the dogs in the back, leaving you in the room to wait, while they do anything stressfull (mostly to the owners) out of sight.

So now off Dusty goes to the nether regions of the office for shots while we cool our heels. They brought her back a few minutes later and we waited a bit...the sample turned up no parasites, so anal glands it was!

Back Dusty went to the inner office for anal gland squeezin's, casting us a decidedly pained look as she went.

...and back she came a few minutes later, all cleaned out. After chatting with the vet for a minute, we asked her to note on the paperwork that Dusty had been spayed, since it's cheaper to license a spayed/neutered pet.

Oops, they'd forgotten to check for surgery scars to prove that, and it turns out that Dusty will have to be shaved a bit in order for them to see the scars. You guessed it, time for a third trip to the back room where all the magic happens.

So here comes the vet tech for her again. By now Dusty is firmly hiding her head in my daughter's lap, with an 'If I can't see them they can't see me' attitude.

Nonetheless she is once again led to the door, at which point she looks back over her shoulder at us as if to say, 'First you allow someone I don't KNOW to stick things up there, then they stick me with needles, THEN they...oh God, you don't want to know--! Now I'm getting SHAVED?! What is this, Hell Week? Am I pledging some dumb fraternity? What's next, you gonna hang Christmas lights back there?!'

Dog's faces can be very expressive.

But Dusty went along with the program and returned. She was much happier after getting some treats from the vet and lots of pets and praise.

But on the way out she fairly bolted for the door.

It's Dusty!

We'd promised the kid we'd get a dog when we moved...so here is our new family member--and our daughter's 13th birthday present--Dusty!

We found her on Craigslist, her owners (two ladies both named Jennifer) were moving and needed to rehome her. She is perfectly wonderful in every way--quiet, polite, well-mannered and housebroken. Dusty is a Cocker/Schnauzer mix--a 'Schnocker' according to the Jennifers. They were kind enough to leave her with us for a weekend to see how things went--we weren't sure how Dusty would react to the other animals and the chickens--but after an initial curious inspection, she disregarded them. Heck, she doesn't even go after the quail and other wild birds that walk around near her in the yard.

She knows she isn't allowed on the couch though, which prompted this expression when I took this picture:

The kid and dog are inseperable, Dusty has a special pillow to sleep on at night right next to her bed. The other night, after running around playing with the dog the kid flopped down on the living room carpet, dog in arms and sighed, 'Best birthday ever.'

Thanks, Jennifers! :)