The Golden Princess

I feel rather horrid about this. I wrote two posts about Cù when he lost use of his legs and we were so hopeful to get him walking again, perhaps with aid, and then when he took a turn for the worse and we had to let him go.  But I have written nothing here about Òrlaith's battle this winter. I posted a bit about it here, primarily as both his death and her battle at the time influenced my writing.

Òrlaith (Prevo)
Born:June 16, 2002-adopted: November 25, 2009-died: February 22, 2014

Òrlaith was our fourth Greyhound, the fifth we have lost. We adopted her when we realized that we were losing Scolaighe to her meningitis and we didn't want Glean, our AussieX to be alone.  As she was a tiny "feminine" fawn girl, we were somewhat surprised she was "thrown" at us, we get losers, after all and tiny

Peeking out from her pillow fort

"feminine" fawn girls are apparently among the most sought after Greyhounds.  However, she did have her issues and she did need us. Namely, she had anxiety issues, but they were rather unique. Hardly a spook, she was outgoing and friendly to humans and dogs, rather bossy and body slamming with the latter (and if they didn't obey, I already told the story of her reprimanding Cù then him being put in solitary for supposedly hurting her by kennel workers).  However, noises bothered her a lot if she wasn't active at the moment. Sleeping was a real problem; wind, rain, sounds of the house settling, never mind when actual thunder.

Her previous home had children as well, she hid in her crate and they felt horrible, feeling she was unhappy.  Here she took to building a "fort" out of the couch cushions and hiding there to sleep. We figured she was pretty happy, actually, but also got her a ThunderShirt (tm) which helped some but she still like to hide.We let her as long as she needed it.

Over time she started spending less time under the cushions and started snuggling us a bit.  When we adopted another AussieX, Sachairi, she did go back into hiding for a bit when she was sleeping, although she did seem to like him. She then started to spend more time out again, except when there were really high winds and thunderstorms.

She especially liked Sach when he was where she wanted to be

As the only female the boys all learned to respect her and the seemed to all adore her. She was very bonded with Cù, because their activity levels were a bit different from the Aussies, there was a strong sense of pairing. We'd often walk the hounds on their own and take the fluffy dogs out for a romp in rougher terrain, especially as the hounds both started showing signs of lameness as they aged (Sach is actually older, but yet shows little signs of age other than being deaf). So when Cù became lame, Òrlaith was very reluctant to go for walks on her own. As I didn't want to take all the other dogs out and leave him, I didn't at the time try to take her out with the boys.  That would come later, after he was gone and she seemed to enjoy those walks quite a lot.

She missed him terribly, as did the boys  They moped a lot, even all snuggling together often.  As snuggly as she had been, she became a total velcro hound to us too.

Then over Thanksgiving, when the vets where off and Aaron was working, I noticed that her gums were bleeding badly when I brushed her teeth. The next morning there was a lump, we figured a tooth infection that got into her jaw and got her to an emergency vet who determined the same and sent her home with a course of anitbiotics.

The antibiotics did nothing, the lump grew. Taking her to a regular vet, we learned she had osteosarcoma, a bone tumor. He gave her about three more weeks, which would have been around the holidays, and gave us little option. We took her to another vet for a second opinion. On the plus side we found them a wonderful clinic and will be continuing to use them....wishing greatly that we knew about them when we still had Cù (this is Bethel Animal Hospital they are a bit further from us even than our old vet, but greatly worth the trip!).  They didn't give a death date, but confirmed it was cancer. They laid out the options, which were to have the jaw amputated and replaced with a prosthetic and do chemo.  Manage her care until it grew too large.

Given her age, given how horribly invasive and painful the idea of jaw amputation seemed...especially while suffering the effects of chemo....and especially at her age when there was a chance that something else would get her before she even finished the chemo so that she'd probably never have a good quality of life, we opted to care for her while we could without imposing all that on her.

We did try, with the support and help of the new vet, several herbal treatments.  We were sold a lot of hope by many when we bought these things, miracle stories....which was not helpful to us. We had so much hope for Cù and were still feeling crushed by him not making it, not walking again, that more false hope was painful. We knew the cancer would spread, the tumor would grow. All we could hope for was that we could slow it.  And it seemed to work. I spent almost all my time with her, Aaron as much as he could. We spoiled her with "treats" which disguised her herbs.  And she ate soft food....although she could still wolf down the boys' (who do not eat like Greyhounds) kibble when we weren't looking).

Around the end of December, it did seem maybe it was getting too big and time was close, but it did seem to slow at that point.  She got to the new year, still happily eating, still going for walks when it was warm enough (which, sadly, it wasn't very often).  She made it into February and then...as the month was winding down, we realized that the tumor was getting too big. Her mouth was bleeding again. She could still eat, but it was more difficult.  She still had happy moments but it no longer was all the time and we knew that shortly those happy moments would be gone.

I often feel and See the "shadow hounds" around here. But Cù was very close this whole time. He missed being in the same world as his closest packmate, she missed him.  They are together again, this I know. They are with Irony, Bran and Scolaighe too, but importantly they are together.  Always. I miss sharing this world with all my lovely hounds, their silken ears, their snuggles...but I know on some nights, I can still run with them under the moon. 

About a dog

Cù Mór (Onaim Dogzilla)
Born:August 24, 2002-adopted: January 30, 2010-died:July, 27, 2013

When I last posted it was about how our activities here were all backburnered while we took care of our sick dog, Cù. Sadly, while at first things looked good that he might walk, aided, again, he took a turn for the worse and his body couldn't fight any longer. On the 27th we had to say good-bye to this wonderful soul.

Cù was our fourth Greyhound we lost, the fifth one we adopted. Irony, Bran and Scolaighe were there to greet him and he is now buried with them.  Òrlaith is now mourning her boy, as are the Aussie crosses Gleann and Sachairi.

Those who came before: Irony, Bran and Scolaighe

Snuggling Gleann

 Cù was really classically a Greyhound, with that ability they have to be simultaneously elegant and goofy.  He loved to snuggle, whether it was people or other dogs. He could also be rambunctious and this
sometimes confused people.

Snuggling Sach

One story that sticks out is when we went to Chicago the year we adopted him, the pack, then him, Òrlaith and Gleann were so close we didn't want them in separate kennels as the kennels the place we were boarding in were large anyway.  When they were going in to feed the day before we got back, they here a fight and found Òrlaith bleeding from the ear.   Figuring that Cù had attacked her, as he was big and male and she was the one bleeding, they exiled him to another pen.  We got there and, well, their story of him attacking her seemed off to us. When we got into the car, it was clear....that was not what happened. He cringed as far from her as he could get in the back of the car.  When she moved he cringed further.  Meanwhile, Gleann and Òrlaith snuggled.

They made up, of course

When we got him home we took a closer look at him and he had two bites, not real deep but evident if you bothered to look.   Òrlaith had no bite marks at all, just the scrapped ear. What obviously happened was he got excited, as meal times got him, and jumped on her, as he sometimes does to others but not her, usually.  She corrected him, got her ear scraped by the unfortunately rough wall and the kennel staff, not knowing dogs very well, didn't even check to see if he was hurt, just punished him further by separating him. Which also delayed their making up and left him terrified of her for days. (no, we're not likely to board there ever again)

While Cù might have been ruled by Òrlaith, he was a kindly patriarch to the fluffy boys. The closeness of them all was demonstrated often. Sadly, it's not demonstrated by their intense mourning.

He apparently also remembered his first family. I became friendly with the woman who cares for one of his littermate sisters, Annie.  We had taken Cù to be euthanized on Saturday morning, getting there just before noon.  The vet came out and gave his sleep shot, then went back in to get the euthanasia drug and let the shot work while we petted and cuddled him.  The noon bell rang. A few minutes later the vet came out and sent him to the other side, we never saw the exact time. At 12:06 Annie who had been sleeping woke up, startled.  She spent the day being very clingy, which was unlike her.  To us and to her person it's obvious he came by.

Just as it's often clear he's here still at times. I'm sure he will be, with our other hounds, when we celebrate Lùnasdal later this month.

I regret deeply that we were not able to help Cù as I had hoped. I do not regret the time we spent with him in his last weeks. Sometimes it was very hard, but that only makes the loss all the deeper.  Our animals are our life, really, and our sacred trust.

He was a magnificent, beautiful hound, showing a true legacy of the ancient Celtic Hound he was descended from. I know there is much more that should be said, but even after over a week, I seem unable to manage as well as I'd like. I'll update his page soon, but I still am not able to. Still dealing with this in steps.

Cù demonstrating his ancestral hunting skills on a stuffy

"This Place is Death"

We have had yet another loss at Dùn Sgàthan, on June 30 Randvér, our wether goat, bloated. We do not know what caused it, although it's apparenlty more common in wether's than in does or bucks, so supposedly it could be anything. Goats are an animal that seem impervious to food issues, but seems when they get them that is it. We tried desperately to save him, but he died in our arms a few hours after we realized that he was sick.

It's never easy when a pet dies, that he was so young and that this was so unexpected makes it so much worse. That it comes after so many other deaths just makes it another cut where there is already so many unhealed wounds.

The goats, really, came into our lives when we needed new life. That was only a year and a half ago. They brought us much joy. They gave the Mini Horses, Iceman and Cimmeron, much needed fresh companionship after they lost their person and two of their herdmates. They gave Saorsa real companionship as they were spry enough to safely go in and out of her pasture, while we are worried about letting her and the Minis be closed in together (they can see each other, at least most of the year, eventually the snow ends up keeping Saorsa from traveling over there...but it never stopped the goats).

Randvér was a proper trickster goat, always pushing for what ever he wanted. Chasing the dogs, chasing the horses, often bullying Elína for food. He'd often glue himself to what ever person was handy, wanting attention. This, of course, was the first and, I'm afraid, ignored for some time, sign that something was wrong. We didn't see much of Randvér that morning, he wasn't being a pest. We should have known. I was busy with my horse trainer and Saorsa, Aaron was busy catching up the bills at the last minute. We just weren't worried.

If we'd started treating him earlier would it have saved him? We just will never know. It all was so sudden, it all happened so fast.

Over a week before this happened I saw a Turkey Vulture on a utility post; something I've never seen before. I've seen plenty of vultures, but only flying or roosting at a distance and always in numbers, never just one so close just sitting there. It was wonderous and disturbing. It may well have nothing to do with all of this. Or it might. But it keeps coming to mind right now.

Randvér was only two, he should have been with us far longer. He is, however, out of pain. Apparently, once this happened, it would always linger, always be likely to happen again. But I still wish he had had the chance to have more time.

I try to remember that I am a spiritual person, that I do believe he is in another world, happy and frolicking. That there is probably good food, that over there won't kill him. Maybe he's with the Red Rooster even, who he had seemed to like.

I worry about Elína, who no longer has her lifelong companion. They were not siblings, but were born around the same time. There were times it seemed she ignored him, what with him being pesty all the time. She liked to "hide" from him, by standing somewhere behind him while he bleated his little heart out for her. She lied next to him when he got really bad and wouldn't get up anymore. After he died we let her check out his body, so she'd know. She sniffed, walked out of the stall, bleated a couple of times as if to confirm he wasn't going to answer, then asked to go outside. At the time the Minis were asking to come inside, so we let them check out the body. He was their companion too. Gleann and Sachairi also got to sniff the body. Gleann had been distressed and crying during the whole thing, had spent some time with us taking care of Randvér; he worries about his charges. He'll also miss him, as Randy play chased with him more.
Elína and the Minis have each other, Elína also has Saorsa. While we buried Randvér, Elína and Saorsa ate nearby while Iceman and Cimmeron hovered on the other side of us in their paddock. But she doesn't have anyone to do goat specific stuff with. Like play butt-heads. Or wander where ever. Or hang out and chew cuds while looking totally stoned. Or rubbing against anything that can conveniently be knocked down and trashed together.

I really hurt for Elína.

We might get another, I don't know. I'm not sure that he can be "replaced" for Elína any more than he can be for us. They were together all their lives, after all. A new goat would just be a new goat, she might not even like him. So I don't know.

Of course, we've also discussed the fact that we could breed her. Just once. We are not goat farming because they are just too personable, too pet like, for us to raise any for meat. To raise for milk requires, eventually, raising for meat. There are just so many pet homes or petting zoo situations (and the latter are not always good places, anyway) for excess male goats, after all. But once, and we'd keep the kids. Of which there will undoubtedly be two (goat's almost always have twins). But this may be crazy thinking. We have more than a month to talk ourselves out of it.

My hope had been that the post I was going to do next was going to be picture spam of my horse having a post-training session bath. I will post that sometime soon. In other, hopeful, news, we do have two hens brooding. We were going to candle the eggs this weekend, but haven't yet. Hopefully that will indicate some life. We need new life here.