Last night, I talked on the phone with a dog behaviorist specializing in dog aggression for about an hour and a half. I described to her each of my dogs’ disposition, the living arrangement that had worked for more than 3 years until Georgia’s elbow dysplasia diagnosis, the change in living arrangement, and the behavior changes leading up to the fight between Brooklyn and Brandy and Brandy’s attack on Georgia. I found her to be very nice and personable.
The flood gate on my tear ducts opened when she asked “Who’s your favorite?” because I thought she was asking this question to see who I’d end up choosing to give up in case keeping all four of them is not doable. Oh no, I don’t have a favorite. I once tried to pick my favorite – I tried to reason if I had to choose just one in an emergency, who would I choose? I don’t know. I have no idea. They are my kids. How can you choose?
My goal now is to have a functional 2-way separation just as before, whichever combination that might be. Right now I’m doing 3-way without Foster. When he comes back after Georgia’s stitches come out, my plan is to pair him up with Georgia so that I don’t need to do 4-way separation. For me to be able to successfully accomplish this, I want her professional advice, and hopefully, she and I can figure out how to achieve 2-way separation again.
I would have to figure out a way to pay her fee first because she cannot take credit card. Wish me luck.
Georgia saw Dr. L on Friday when the drains came out. Dr. L said her leg looks surprisingly good. But Georgia managed to break the E-collar she was wearing for the second time last night, and took most of the stitches out. I quickly went out and bought some self-sticking bandages and wrapped it up, but she keeps scratching it with her hind leg so that the bandage can’t stay in place. So far the incision hasn’t burst, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
Brooklyn’s wounds look to be all healed just like all of my wounds, which are just a little sensitive. She, so far, seems content most of the time and cries and howls whenever she thinks I’ve been away from her too long or if she hears me taking another dog outside. I’ve been sleeping with her in the bedroom (on the bed Foster marked all over) ever since her fight with Brandy and she seems to be happier to be in the bedroom than the livingroom.
I took Brandy to the vet yesterday to see if anything is wrong with her healthwise which is making her more aggressive. Other than her known health problems, that is. Dr. L found out that Brandy has two cracked teeth. When I say “cracked”, it doesn’t mean the teeth broke where we can see them. The teeth seem to have been pushed outward cracking them above the gum line and then put back to their original place. She said it’s already healing so there is nothing to be done. From the outside, the area near Brandy’s nose where the black nose ends on the right side looks slightly more bulbous than the other side. She couldn’t tell how old the wound is, it’s either from the fight with Brooklyn or when she jumped on Georgia. Dr. L also took three vials of Brandy’s blood to be tested for any diseases that make a dog cranky including 11 tick-borne diseases and thyroid, on top of a full chem panel.
This afternoon when I took Brandy outside, she had a sudden sneezing fit, after which I noticed some blood around her muzzle. Upon inspection, I could see there was blood in her left nostril. I will talk to Dr. L tomorrow.
Foster has been staying with Sam and Houston since the day after I picked up Georgia from the vet. I can’t trust Brandy with any other dog right now and with Georgia’s leg all stitched up and with her E-collar bumping into everything, I didn’t want Foster to play with Georgia either. So I had to separate them all, and Sam volunteered to look after Foster. According to Sam, Foster must miss home since he has never seen Foster so subdued. Poor guy…
Grizzley has been doing well. He’s still on prednisone and eating well and as feisty as ever.
I am exhausted and stressed and broke. And that’s all I have to say about myself.
There has been much could’ve, should’ve and would’ve on my part for the past week or so. I should have seen it coming. I should have been more careful…
Ever since Georgia and Brooklyn were moved downstairs, I have felt that Brooklyn has been giving Georgia cold shoulders. Georgia is jumpier and more easily scared now that she can hear outside noises a lot more clearly and I thought maybe that had to do with it because Brooklyn gets a little annoyed by Georgia running around not knowing what to do with herself. Then when I started dog-sitting Houston, I started getting a weird vibe from Brooklyn whenever I brought Georgia back into the livingroom after the meal.
Before the new living arrangement, because Georgia and Brooklyn stayed in the master bedroom, Georgia used to eat inside the master bathroom and I only had to open the bathroom door after both Georgia and Brooklyn were done eating. Everybody has to be fed separately in this house because otherwise one would try to steal another’s food and fight would break out.
After Georgia and Brooklyn moved to downstairs living room, Georgia had to be fed outside the living room. Monday night, I brought Georgia back into the living room after their meal, and that was when Brooklyn attacked Georgia. Georgia doesn’t bite back and she tried to hide behind me and in my poor attempt to take Georgia back out of the room, I opened the door and that’s when Brandy charged in. Brooklyn and Brandy were going at each other for what seemed to me like forever. I was desperately trying to separate them and both of them bit anything and everything near their mouths including me.
After I finally separated them, my right hand had blood clot coming out of a hole, the right side of my shirt and pants blood-soaked, my blood smeared and splattered everywhere. I was hyperventilating and feeling extremely cold and felt like I would pass out soon. But I was somehow abnormally calm. I looked for the number to call a cab, packed a new shirt and a pair of pants, cell phone and the charger, pager, and the organizer while waiting for the cab.
Fortunately, nothing was broken, so after about 5 hours, I was released after given pain killer and antibiotic with the instruction to see a doctor next day. I came home at about 2am, and let the dogs out for a quick potty break, and took Brooklyn to the emergency vet clinic where she was hospitalized over night. Then I came home and took Brandy to the same emergency vet clinic, and she was released with an antibiotic after confirming all her wounds were superficial. I made a stop at a 24-hour Walgreen’s for a case of Ginger Ale since even drinking water was making me puke. I came home at around 4am and started to make another arrangement to separate Brooklyn from Georgia and others.
Brooklyn was pretty banged up. She had to have drains inserted in two places and got stitches as well. She’s been on antibiotic and pain killer. She looks quite pathetic and must feel that way as well because she screams and howls as if she’s getting slaughtered whenever I leave her by herself. But she’s getting better.
Some people were assuming that I’m weighing the possibility of putting Brooklyn down because of the bites or her dog aggression. No, that’s not it. I know she’s dog aggressive and I have known it ever since I got her. I know I get bitten when I try to stop a dog fight. Note to self: go get the fucking break stick and the citronella spray already!
No, that’s not why. It’s because Brooklyn gets so miserable when she has to be in a room by herself when clearly I’m in the same house. She cries her heart out whenever I take the other dogs outside. Sometimes she hears me addressing other dogs and starts crying and tries to get out of the room by destroying it – fortunately she’s wearing a cone and it’s preventing her to do any damage right now. I know her look when she’s unhappy. I lived with unhappy Brooklyn for more than a year when I first got her. I remember how miserable she was…
Brooklyn is a good dog. She’s a very very good dog. She’s the most trouble-free dog I’ve ever seen if there is no other animal around. She doesn’t steal my food. She doesn’t chew anything. She never touches anything that belongs to me. She NEVER EVER has an accident even if she has to hold for 2 days and even when she has the diarrhea. She doesn’t bark incessantly. She walks very nicely on leash. She loves people. She loves me oh so very much.
Right now, I’m just trying to get her better. I can’t handle thinking about it when I have to tend to her wounds and mine. I’ll see how she does living in the room without Georgia to keep her company when I can’t be there with her. I have to see how she handles it… and go from there…
Five years ago today, I brought Brooklyn home.
After seeing Georgia coming to life and even willing to come right next to me to get closer to another dog when I was dog-sitting, I decided I’d adopt another dog at a local rescue facility. I didn’t want a puppy, so I asked them if they had dogs over 2 years old, good with dogs and cats, and already housebroken. Somebody led me to Brooklyn’s kennel. She was sleeping with an E-collar on, and I could see all of her bones sticking out. I also noticed 3 servings of her meal untouched in her kennel. They told me they thought she was hit by a car before coming to the rescue. When the lady woke her up and took her out of the kennel, she seemed to come alive. They said she’s good with other animals and perfectly housebroken. I couldn’t take my Georgia to see Brooklyn because Georgia was deathly terrified of everything and anything including going outside. So I trusted them, signed the adoption contract saying I could return her in 3 days if she doesn’t work out with the other animals, and brought her home.
As soon as she laid her eyes on Georgia and 2 cats, I knew she was most definitely not good with other animals. But she kept having the most severe unscoopable diarrhea that would be absorbed by the earth leaving just stains. I had to treat her diarrhea first, and since the rescue has its own veterinary clinic which is free for the pets adopted within 10 days, I took Brooklyn there. They hospitalized her because she hadn’t been eating. Then discharged her saying she ate some puppy chow wet food some flavor!!! No tests run, nothing at all, and she still had diarrhea.
The adoption contract, as it should be, forbade the adopter to give the dog away or adopt her out, and I had to take her back to the rescue if I were not to keep her. I decided I would not take her back to that rescue because she was so thin, having this horrible diarrhea, and obviously not eating, but these people just kept shoving food inside her kennel! Not to mention the fact that they lied about her being good with other animals. I couldn’t return her back there! I contacted a Shiba Inu rescue and told all this, whose lawyer went over the contract to see if there is any loophole. There was none. I had to keep her or return her, OR find another home for her knowingly breaking the contract. I chose the third option.
Brooklyn managed to almost kill Grizzley and attacked Georgia a few times when I felt sorry for her cooped up in the bedroom and tried to leave her out in the livingroom with the leash attached to me. I got bitten by her 6 times in the first 5 months I had her, all 6 times were when I was in her way of getting to another animal. Now I could not find another home for her knowing that she bit. I’d rather want it to be me that she bites than having her bite another person or another animal and possible be killed in a shelter. I had to keep her.
So Brooklyn lived in my bedroom, separated from other dogs and the cat. I consulted behaviorists, trainers, vets, even a pet psychic, which I don’t believe. Nothing worked. Brooklyn loses all senses once she sees another animal. About half of those I consulted told me to put her down. The other half wished me good luck. Not only that, other dogs seem to resent her presence even before she sees them. For instance, Houston never met any dog he didn’t like, until he laid his eyes on her, who didn’t see him yet, and he started growling and trying to get to her with his hackles up and snarling.
In the mean time, I was struggling with the decision. Brooklyn seemed so unhappy. She’s the kind of dog who’d just follow you around and is just happy being in the same room with you or she’s a so-called velcro dog. But having to be separated from the others inside the bedroom, she was plain miserable. I cried almost every night trying to decide if I should put her down or not. I held her and looked into her eyes and wished her to somehow tell me either she’d want to live or die. I just couldn’t put her down. Some people might label it as selfish, but I just couldn’t.
But the help came from the most unlikely source. Georgia. She would run from one end of the livingroom to the other end and jump around with such happiness to see Brooklyn whenever I took Brooklyn out of the room on the leash to taker her outside. Brooklyn would show her aggression, and Georgia would completely freeze, not even making her breathing heard. Then Brooklyn would lose interest. This continued day after day 3 or 4 times a day, and Brooklyn’s reaction went from aggression to being upset to being annoyed to cold shoulder to acknowledgment to err…. happiness! Of course I stuffed her face with something yummy whenever Georgia sprinted towards us, but finally she seemed happy to see Georgia.
When I moved into the house, I finally let them be together, and they loved each other. Brooklyn couldn’t stand to be by herself, and I was frequently heard saying Get a room, will ya? when mutual licking sessions went on and on and on. Brooklyn was finally happy. She groomed Georgia endlessly and she played with Georgia when outside. Brooklyn tore the room apart if Georgia was in the house but not in the same room with her. Brooklyn loved Georgia. Until this last Monday night…, which I’ll blog about in a few days.
Brooklyn is a very sweet girl who just wants to be in the presence of people. Her cinnamon roll looking tail wags like crazy when I come home from work and she screams in joy while her entire butt is moving from side to side. She’s very concerned about how she looks, so she grooms herself just like a cat, and lies down with her front legs crossed. And I know she will protect me when I’m nervous about certain people while walking her at night – more than once, she kept a crackhead and drunks away from us. She loves me so dearly and I love her to death.
Happy gotchaday, Brooklyn!!!!! Love you so much.
I might have to make the decision to put Brooklyn to sleep soon.
I hate myself.
I was just outside with Georgia and Brooklyn. While Brooklyn was pooping, in 3 different places because the wind changed its direction or she heard some noise or whatever, I realized something.
It occurred to me that I was standing as if I froze in the middle of walking, one foot in front, and I was also holding my breath. Then I realized that whenever Brooklyn assumes the position, I stop in my tracks, not move a muscle trying not to blink and sometimes hold my breath until she comes out of her pooping stance. Not only that, when she strains for a long time to push that very last teeny piece of turd out, I even make a straining face, intensely staring at her butt. Yes, this is how badly I want Brooklyn to poop. It has been a rough summer for both of us with all that rain.
Grizzley is going strong. He has the appetite of a tiger because of once a day prednisone. He doesn’t show any signs of the trouble a few months ago. This picture is a really bad one, he looks much better! Nowadays, he doesn’t have that kitty condo because I had to dismantle it to take it out of the livingroom after installing the doors, and wasn’t able to put them together again… hehe…
Georgia is doing well as far as I can see. We’ll get another X-ray taken in a couple of month to see if her elbow dysplasia is getting worse. I just found out she’s been sneaking in some pee on the rug I put down in the livingroom for her. So everybody except Brooklyn is having a blast marking or peeing inside after the new living arrangement!!! *shakes fist*
Brooklyn has been, well, Brooklyn, refusing to step down to the grass to pee or poop EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. This summer has been so humid and wet as to ruin a pair of my Timberlands because they get soaked from walking 10 ft on it to pick up poop. Naturally, Brooklyn refuses to have any of that, so I’ve had to drag her out and body block her from coming back to the deck, to force her to pee. I do that everyday, I tell ya.
Brandy’s poop is still too soft, and we can’t find any underlying cause of the bacterial overgrowth in her intestinal tract. I’ve been giving her plain fat free yogurt and that firms it up a little so that it’s not completely liquidy. But she’s not losing any weight, and actually gaining some and she hasn’t had any bad regurgitating bouts for some time. *knocks on wood* The problem is she acts like she doesn’t have bladder control after the new living arrangement and has been peeing inside.
RPIMFA, aka Foster, is of course doing good. The summer is almost over, and thankfully he didn’t hurt himself or give himself puncture wounds. I’ve caught him a few times following bugs towards his torso again and again, but so far, we haven’t made that second trip to the E-vet yet. Hopefully he gives me a break this year since he’s already caused enough grief by peeing and marking everywhere including my bed.
I’ve been busy setting up new living arrangement to accomodate Georgia’s arthritis. And it’s been hectic, frustrating and stressful for all of us. But I’m happy to report that I am able to fall asleep at night and get some sleep.
Last Saturday, starting around 10:30am, a friend of mine and I visited Home Depot and carpet stores multiple times and went to work until around 10pm. We installed the doors in the two openings in the livingroom and put cheap area rugs in two rooms. Since the openings in the livingroom were not made for doors, they look like some builder left without finishing his job, real eye sores, but they serve the purpose. So Brooklyn and Georgia have been staying in the livingroom since that night.
Blocking off one room downstairs doesn’t solve the problem entirely though. I still cannot feed Brandy upstairs because there is no comfortable chair upstairs that would fit both Brandy and me which is necessary for me to hold Brandy upright for about an hour after her meals. So Brooklyn still needs to eat upstairs and knowing Georgia is not upstairs with her, she’s not eating much and howls and eats the wall while I’m holding Brandy downstairs. The problem will be solved if I get an appropriate chair for upstairs.
I had to move Brandy and Foster to the master bedroom as well where Georgia and Brooklyn used to occupy because of a strange unforeseen problem. After blocking off the livingroom, the room doesn’t get any air from central air conditioner whenever the doors are closed even though there are two vents in the room. I don’t know why and don’t have the money to hire somebody to look into it, so I decided to leave the doors open during the day while I’m at work and confine Grizzley in his room, Brandy and Foster in their room. But to my dismay, I found out THOSE rooms are also not getting any air with the doors closed. Since I know the master bedroom and the master bathroom gets plenty of air with the door closed, I had to move all of Grizzley, Brandy and Foster to the master bedroom. So naturally the royal pain in my big fat ass Foster decided that he would have to mark this new territory and has been peeing on different spots at least once a day so far.
I was able to borrow $2,000 from a friend who I already owe $500 to, but he thankfully told me to take my time paying him back. After last weekend, I’m left with $1,000 and that will help me get the chair and more rugs and the vet cost. I also just received an upgraded credit card, which they sent me because my card expired a few months ago and I had not activated the new one they sent me. I decided to activate it, and happened to find out my rewards points made me eligible for a cash reward of $200, so that will help as well. I have been sleeping on the sofa with Georgia and Brooklyn since thy are more nervous about it than the others and since I can sleep on the sofa for now, I won’t have to buy a new mattress just yet to replace the one Foster marked all over.
All of us have been really uneasy about this new living arrangement because it hasn’t been quite perfected as a routine yet. I’m uneasy since I keep finding out some unforeseen problem after another. But I know everything will come together sooner or later and we will all settle into a new routine eventually.
Tomorrow I’ll be taking Georgia to Dr. L, our wonderful vet. Please keep your fingers crossed for Georgia. And then I’ll be doing more moving things around, carpet shopping, carpet laying, etc. I just remembered I was supposed to make a to-do list for this weekend. 
Grizzley has been doing well on 5mg prednisone once a day. As Dr. L instructed, I tried once every other day before I ran out of pills, but he promptly started throwing up a little everyday. So I tried once every day and a half, but let’s face it. I’m getting old and the gray matter inside my skull doesn’t process this “once every day and a half” concept very well; one dose in the morning, then the next day in the evening, and then skip a day, and the one in the morning, etc. You get my drift. So back to once a day, and he seems to be doing fine again. And I will refrain from talking about how Sheila, my vet’s receptionist, screwed us up this time getting the scribe renewed.
Georgia has been doing well, and I dare say she’s the happiest one among my bunch. She doesn’t care if it’s hot, humid, muggy, wet, rainy, or pouring. She keeps on hopping around pees and poops with joy, chasing bugs, making splashes in the mud puddles. She’s been getting a little used to noises from outside our property, too – I hate to admit, but it might have to do with the fact that the neighbor is so loud so often.
Brooklyn, of course, is miserable. She’s miserable in the hot and humid summer of NY. She pees only once a day, or twice if motivated because she hates to get her precious paws wet. She poops once maybe 3 or 4 days. Being a winter dog, she doesn’t know what to do outside when it’s scorching. The weather has been simply weird for this time of the year and wasn’t THAT bad, but as I pointed out in earlier entries, Brooklyn is a diva. Everything has to be JUST so for her to lead a normal dog’s life. So yeah, it sucks for her this time of the year and all this rain we are getting isn’t helping either.]
Brandy is doing OK; not great, not bad, but just OK. We finished amoxicillin, and she’s not that much better. But her diarrhea is being controlled to just soft stool most of the time. She is gaining her weight back it seems – I’m not sure, but I can’t feel her bones as easily as before when I was worried sick. I’m still trying to find a time to talk to the vet – I called the vet’s office a few times and either Lorraine or Sheila has been answering, so I just hung up because I know the chances are very slim to get to talk to Dr. L.
Foster is, well, he’s Foster. It took me a little over 40 minutes to clip his nails just last night including 5-10 minute break I took since I was sweating profusely trying to clip his nails sitting inside his crate with him. Afterwards he lied down on his side the rest of the night pretending he died from nail clipping.
Strange weather patterns these days brought the dog days of summer about a month early. And just three days ago, I had to wear a jacket to take the dogs outside at night and I guess it’s all my fault because I had to tell everybody and their uncle that it’s the coolest May and June I’ve ever had in New York.
Georgia doesn’t care if it’s upper nineties outside. It doesn’t faze her a bit. She knows green goes well with her, and takes every opportunity to look good.
Brooklyn is relieved that it hasn’t rained for TWO straight days for a change and ground is acceptably dry for her to pee this morning. Of course it’s not that dry for her to stay on it right after. Being a winter dog, this weather is too hot for Brooklyn anyway.
Brandy gets quickly into her stalking position while Foster is distracted by a squirrel up on a tree in my neighbor’s yard. She tried once or twice to play, but it’s just too hot to play. I know when Brandy goes back to the door to look longingly inside, then it’s too hot period.
Upon not getting the expected scratches when he sat down in front of me, Foster quickly gets down to see if THAT would get him some scratches, then forgets all about it when distracted by a bee. His black fur absorbs heat and so his body gets hot really fast. Unlike the others, he doesn’t have the sense to seek out shades and usually lies down under the blazing sun panting like crazy.
Serious Stuff. Seriously
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