Beemer is the Best

"No amount of time will erase the memory of a good great dog."

Today was a bad day. I lost my best friend. I know he's "just a dog" but he was a great friend. He gave me a love, companionship and loyalty that I don't deserve. I will miss him greatly. 

Beemer is the Best.

I posted these missives once before about dogs in general and Beemer specifically. They only begin to describe how much we will miss him. He was a great dog.

"He is your friend, your partner, your defender.You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours to the last beat of his heart.You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion."

      - Anonymous

 --

Just a Dog

From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a dog," or, "that's a lot of money for just a dog." They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs involved for "just a dog."

Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a dog." Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a dog," but I did not once feel slighted. Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a dog," and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.

If you, too, think it's "just a dog," then you will probably understand phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise." "Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy. "Just a dog" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person. Because of "just a dog" I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future.

So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a dog" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment. "Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog" but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a man." So the next time you hear the phrase "just a dog." just smile, because they "just don't understand."

Author Unknown

 ~;::::::;( )">   

Kershaw in command, Giants roller coaster season continues

This series was a bit of a microcosm of the season at large, a roller coaster ride. We all know what roller coaster rides are like however. Lots of ups and downs, lots of screaming and excitement, stretches where you just have to close your eyes and clench every muscle in your body to get through it and in the end you end up pretty much exactly where you started only a bit more wobbly and queasy for the experience. I hate roller coasters.

And I should hate Clayton Kershaw. But even for a Dodger, he's too good and they have too many other guys to use up my venom on. He's worth every penny they pay him right now. They are 21 games over .500 and he's 16 of them right now. Cy Young for sure, hopefully he lets Posey win the MVP. The sportswriters in their infinite wisdom (/sarc) will have a thing or two to say about that.

from Yahoo Sports:
Kershaw earns 19th win, Dodgers beat Giants 4-2 - Yahoo Sports:

Kershaw (19-3) boosted his credentials for the NL MVP and a third Cy Young Award with another big performance in a big start. The left-hander allowed seven hits, struck out nine and walked one in eight innings. He lowered his majors-best ERA to 1.70, and put the Dodgers in command of the division.

'via Blog this'

The first game 9-0 Giants win seems so long ago. The Giants pitching staff, once a strength, seems almost in tatters, running on fumes. There were (long, painfully long) stretches of this series, mainly pitched by guys named Tim, where I didn't think the Giants would get another out. The feeling spread like a plague. Even though Petit was cruising somewhat at the time, when Kemp was up right before he hit the HR, I said "this is a trouble AB". Sure enough, I barely got done explaining what that meant to Mrs. TheSlav when the ball landed in the bleachers. I swear I heard my dog Beemer say "I'd pitch around him" right before the fateful pitch, but it could just be me. Kemp is a certified Giant killer. If he batted in all nine spots in the order, they might have scored 27 runs and that is taking fatigue into account. Just use the other eight guys as base-runners.

The Giants chance of winning the division are now slim and none and slim has just about let the door hit him in the ass on the way out. The Dodgers can pretty much run out the clock with a three game lead and a schedule filled with also-rans. Except for the series in L.A.......Hey, you don't  think the Giants could regroup and....Nah, I didn't think so, either. And stop laughing Beemer.  <"( );::::::;~  

Experts Pick 5 Most Dramatic Dog Breeds | Pets - Yahoo Shine

Beemer in the Yard, in full flight

All true...my dog is a drama queen. He is the King of the Castle and spoiled rotten as well.

from Yahoo:
Experts Pick 5 Most Dramatic Dog Breeds | Pets - Yahoo Shine:

 Dachshund

This hound is small, but he's got a huge personality. The Dachshund is typically brave, bold, sometimes reckless and often barks with little (or no) provocation, but that doesn't keep Doxie lovers from singing his praises. Dachshunds are active, fun-loving dogs, but they can also be hard to housetrain, willful and feisty, which might make them a poor choice for many families, particularly those with children.

'via Blog this'

No. 5: Dachshund (photo credit: David Jensen, Animal Photography/vetstreet.com)

Loyal dog guards serviceman's coffin | The Sun |News

Yup, just a dog....<"( );::::::;~




Loyal dog guards serviceman's coffin | The Sun |News:

"THE dog of a slain US Navy SEAL remained loyal even in death — refusing to walk away from his owner's casket during the funeral service.

A heart-wrenching photo showed how Labrador Hawkeye remained by his master's side during the emotional ceremony for Petty Officer Jon Tumilson, 35.

Killed ... Jon Tumilson

The trooper, from San Diego, was one of 38 coalition troops killed in Afghanistan when a Chinook helicopter was shot down by Taliban insurgents on August 6.

During his funeral last Friday, in Iowa, Hawkeye walked up to the casket, heaved a sigh and lay down in front of it for the duration of the memorial.

Mr Tumlinson's cousin, Lisa Pembleton, photographed the dog resting by the casket at the service attended by 1500 people.

Miss Pembleton, who posted the heart-breaking photo on a military blog, said Hawkeye was Jon's "loyal 'son'".

She added: "I hadn't planned on taking any pictures other than with family.

"However, from my seat at the funeral, I felt compelled to take one photo to share with family members who couldn't make it or couldn't see what I could from the aisle.""

Beemer Update - One Year Later

These two are the day after surgery at the vet hospital:




Here's Beemer shortly after surgery last year with his wheelchair:

He did not like the wheels very much at all. I think it inspired him to get better. They did help him get the feeling of his legs back underneath him, supporting his weight, until he got his strength back. They were kind of like crutches to him.

And here he is almost a year later, and virtually a full recovery.


He still has some problems with bladder control, he's not 100% back in that regard and likely never will be. He still walks a bit stiff and awkward at times, but he can run pretty good and can and does climb the stairs and jump off the couch, even though he's not supposed to. We've Beemer-proofed the house somewhat, so he can't hurt himself with his over-exuberance.

I know I said right after the surgery, that he was a tough, feisty little dog and if it was possible to fight through the initial prognosis and get better, I thought he would be able to. Well, I'm happy to say that HE DID IT!! It's good to have my little, floppy-eared dynamo greeting me at the door when I get home.

Beemer Update - Almost Six Months Later

It's hard to believe it's been almost six months since Beemer's injury, but he's made great progress. From the initial prognosis after surgery, when we were told he likely had a less than 50% to walk again, to now he has regained the ability to walk and run with a bit of a limp and gimp here and there (maybe he's just imitating my gait).

He was pretty good about his rehab and exercises, although he didn't really like the water therapy at all. We met some good people in support groups of owners who have dachshunds who have been through this type of event. I'm not sure how we would have gotten past the uncertainty without them. We're taking Beemer to a party with about 40-50 dachshunds tomorrow. What a site.

It's good to see the little bounce in his step and his ears flopping around when he runs to greet you or goes to get one of his toys for you to play with. At the time, we thought we might never see that again. We had to "puppy-proof" the house so he doesn't climb stairs (which he will mischievously do if you turn your back and leave the gate down) or jump off couches anymore.

But otherwise he's good as new and hopefully ready for many more years of good health, albeit a couple of pounds heavier due to the reduction in activity (again like me).

No wonder I love this dog.

A MUST READ: How Could You?

This was originally posted on December 25, 2005 on the following site:
http://vettechs.blogspot.com/

Originally I think it was aimed at pet owners who abandon their pets but it touched me nontheless due to our own recent events. The two poems that follow are also perfectly on point.


My pets are valued members of my family and right now I think I'll leave you with this from 2001 and go snuggle with my critters.

I hope you read every word of this page

A man in Grand Rapids, Michigan, took out a $7,000 full page ad in the paper to present the following essay to the people of his community:

HOW COULD YOU?

By Jim Willis, 2001

When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend.

Whenever I was "bad," you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?"- but then you'd relent and roll me over for a bellyrub. My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more Perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because "ice cream is bad for dogs" you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home At the end of the day.

Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. She, now your wife, is not a "dog person" --still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her.

I was happy because you were happy. Then the human Babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of Love." As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch--because your touch was now so infrequent--and I would've defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway.

There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. These past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. I had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every expenditure on my behalf.

Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made the right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only family. I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter.

It smelled of Dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will Find a good home for her." They shrugged and gave you A pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's fingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my Dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?" They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow.

They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind-that this was all a bad dream...or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me. When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited.

I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago.

She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured "How could you?" Perhaps because she understood my dogspeak, she said "I'm so sorry." She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn't be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself--a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my "How could you?" was not directed at her. It was directed at you, My beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever.

May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.

This hurts, it's sad, it's sad. Caring owners renounce euthanasia you see.

And then there's this essay and a poem from author's unknown:

Just a Dog

From time to time, people tell me, "lighten up, it's just a dog," or, "that's a lot of money for just a dog." They don't understand the distance traveled, the time spent, or the costs involved for "just a dog."

Some of my proudest moments have come about with "just a dog." Many hours have passed and my only company was "just a dog," but I did not once feel slighted. Some of my saddest moments have been brought about by "just a dog," and in those days of darkness, the gentle touch of "just a dog" gave me comfort and reason to overcome the day.

If you, too, think it's "just a dog," then you will probably understand phrases like "just a friend," "just a sunrise," or "just a promise." "Just a dog" brings into my life the very essence of friendship, trust, and pure unbridled joy. "Just a dog" brings out the compassion and patience that make me a better person. Because of "just a dog" I will rise early, take long walks and look longingly to the future.

So for me and folks like me, it's not "just a dog" but an embodiment of all the hopes and dreams of the future, the fond memories of the past, and the pure joy of the moment. "Just a dog" brings out what's good in me and diverts my thoughts away from myself and the worries of the day.

I hope that someday they can understand that it's not "just a dog" but the thing that gives me humanity and keeps me from being "just a man." So the next time you hear the phrase "just a dog." just smile, because they "just don't understand."

Author Unknown


"He is your friend, your partner, your defender.
You are his life, his love, his leader.
He will be yours to the last beat of his heart.
You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion."

- Anonymous

Beemers Back!!!! Yes!!!

Here 's a couple of pictures of Beemer at the hospital following back surgery.

After a long weekend of emergency vet visits and an extended (3 nights) stay at the Animal Hospital, Beemer was able to return home Wednesday afternoon. Although this concludes a long ordeal (the surgery) and hopefully alleviates a lot of the pain he was in, it begins another long ordeal, the rehabilitation.

To start, Beemer has had an episode or two in the past of back pain, brought on I'm sure by his tendency to jump off the bed or the couch and occasionally land awkwardly. That and the stairs as well as the dachshund breeds unusual shape contributes to their predisposition to back injury.

Anyway, he was in pain beginning Saturday, but he went out for his morning walk as usual and just seemed a little stiff or tired. Later I went out to the store and when I came back he was waiting at the door for me, but when I came in he didn't follow close by under my feet as usual or run ahead and fetch a toy to play with. He just sat there. So I picked him up and put him on the coach to rest. He didn't seem like he was in pain due to the back as much as if his stomach was bothering him, and his abdomen was rumbling like crazy, so I thought he ate something that didn't agree with him.

When Ledra came back home Sunday, she realized his back feet were curled, which is a bad sign and an indicator of back trauma, he was losing function in his hind legs. We brought him to our local emergency vet, since it was the weekend. At that point they gave him some corticosteroids and pain meds and scheduled him for a followup later in the evening.

Unfortunately, the prognosis wasn't as good this time as the prior episodes. When we went back for that followup visit, the doctor recommended we take him to the hospital and schedule him for MRI/Surgery IMMEDIATELY. I was devastated, since the last time we went through this, the meds and rest worked and the pain ran it's course. The dilemma with dogs with disk problems that leads to loss of the use of the legs is that the longer you wait to decide upon surgery as a course of action, the less the chances of success. You have a small, 24-48 hour window to decide on a course of action. So, you're left with a tough decision, with no GUARANTEE of success, either way you go.

Much as I hated it, we took him at 1 AM to Buffalo Grove, about an hour away and had to leave him at least overnight to be evaluated. I know from my own experience, that there is no such thing as routine surgery. I wanted to him to avoid surgery at all costs. But his pain seemed to be getting worse. I wasn't sure if it was pain or fear at the time. And to be honest, I wasn't sure if the dog or I was in more pain or more afraid about what was happening.

We checked him in and left him for his tests, I know I was still hoping against hope they would find nothing major wrong and recommend rest and meds. Luckily, the expense of the surgery wouldn't be an obstacle (he said). The vet mentioned some people find that $3-4K for surgery and follow-up too much, some people say "well he's just a dog...." as if to infer that that's too much to spend to keep your dog healthy and alive. Personally, I never considered not doing everything I could to help him. I think he's earned it. I guess life would be easier if I could say, "Oh well, he's just a dog, put him out of his misery", but maybe in this case life wasn't meant to be easy.

Anyway, the next morning (Monday) the surgeon did a myelograph instead of the MRI and determined he blew out a disk that needed to be removed. They did that, he has the scars to prove it. He was resting well but not eating, the early tests were coming back that he did not have pain perception in his lower legs soon after surgery ( bad news, but not entirely unusual) . Everytime, Ledra would call with a update on Monday, my heart would jump into my throat, bracing for bad/worse news. I had too much free time to research all the possibilities on the Internet (the Internet can be both a blessing and a curse) so I was able to find out both the possibilities and the probabilities, the success stories and the horror stories, and you wonder which one is in store for your unique individual case.

Tuesday, we were able to visit him in the hospital and he was still out of it. He recognized us and whimpered a bit, but he was too tired to put up a real fuss. He has a huge separation anxiety issue (I think I do too) and this was the first time he spent a night without either Ledra and I with him. So I wasn't sure how he'd handle it. He was too out of it to kick up a fuss. Also, luckily for me, I had seen a picture of another dogs surgical scar on the 'Net so I was ready for Beemer's, otherwise it would have shocked and upset me greatly.

I guess me and hospitals don't get along too well. You know he old saying about a place being a nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there? Well, hospitals to me aren't even nice places to visit. Plus, I knew we wouldn't be able to take him home. But I was glad to see him, glad he got past the first hurdle (surgery) and glad we were 24 hours closer to having him home.

On the way home, we stopped by Petsmart to pick him up a crate (for rest) and some other things for his rehab. Diapers and clothes to protect the bedding from accidents (recovering dogs often lose bowel control) . We got him a nice crate, doesn't look like a cage, more like a kiddy playpen, and some vitamins and supplements to aid his recovery.

Anyway, Wednesday couldn't some fast enough. When we got there we had some final paperwork to take care of and the payment, of course. They won't release the dog without that.

When he was walked out he let out a little yelp when he saw Ledra. He was more animated than the day before and I'm sure excited to be able to leave.

They had the rear-leg harness so he could walk on his front legs with his rear legs suspended off the ground (Picture a wheelbarrow). He won't have the use of his rear legs for some time. Could be 6-8 days or 6-8 weeks or not at all, depending on the severity of the injury, the skill of the surgeon and the rehabilitation.

The surgeons prognosis is GUARDED: Approx. 40% of dog's with Beemer's clinical signs will recover function of the hind legs. This recovery can take weeks to months and may not be complete.

We're hopeful she's being overly conservative. He gets the stitches out in about ten days and goes back to the surgeon for followup and evaluation in six weeks. His activity is very restricted until then. The good news was they did say that on Wednesday he had deep pain perception in his tail, which is a good, hopeful sign.

One of the sad things about this, he is such an active and vivacious dog that it's sad for me and I think frustrating for him not to be able to move around the way he's used to. I miss not seeing his wagging tail and bouncy nature. But, he's a tough, stubborn little dogie and if anyone can get past this, I think Beemer can.

In a way, I hope this is a test for me as well since I'm studying Physical Therapy. We're doing what we can now to get up to speed on the therapeutic modalities used by vets to rehab injured animals. As if either Ledra or myself needed another thing to become immersed in. Maybe we're being tested. I don't intend for us to fail though. This is for Beemer. It's too important.

Wish us luck and remember Beemer in your prayers, if you can.