Jenmenke

Road Warrior

vizsla

Lola Therapy Day

Lola, Lola, Lola.

When I wrote the tribute to Buzz, and over the next several days, I wondered often to myself what I would write about Lola, if she had been the dog we lost instead.

I don’t know if — simply because Buzz is gone — we automatically elevate him to ‘good dog’ status, or if he really was that much easier of a dog to describe and cozy up to. Maybe it’s just the characteristics of different breeds, Buzz being a vizsla and Lola being a shorthair. Don’t get me wrong, there are admirable qualities to shorthairs! I just don’t know if I would call them ‘lovable qualities’!

Even though she’s independent, she was very attached to Buzz and I worried about her being lonely and confused without him. Thankfully(?), we were scheduled to take care of Pippi/Poopy (my Mom and Dad’s dog) within days of losing Buzz — and Lola loves Pippi. An odd but true fact, considering her demeanor with most others of the canine persuasion.

Having Pippi here took away the immediate emptiness of life without Buzz. It was two weeks of chaos and constant playing. But, now she’s gone and Lola is alone again. So, we had a Lola Therapy day yesterday, where I paid her tons of attention and affection.

I don’t think she even noticed.

Undaunted by her vacant eyes, I pressed on with photos and treats. (She did notice the treats.)

A tribute to Lola? No, because, frankly, it’s unimaginable.

But she is photogenic. So, let’s just call this the ‘many faces of Lola’:

She is Cujo. (with other dogs.)

She is a Sociopath. (If a sociopath is defined as having no conscience, coupled with ’empty eyes’.) Like Charles Manson.

She is Aloof.

She is always Depressed (yes. even as a puppy. particularly in summer. by the pool. in the heat).

She is Naughty. (*see Sociopath.) And yes, those are my pea plants. But you could substitute just about any garden plant and she would be guilty. Last fall, she even dug up a row of carrots and ate them.

She is sometimes Surprising. Shown here with her baby kitty that she ‘mothered’, blowing us all away with her gentleness.

And now, she is Lonely.

She is complicated.

But really, aren’t we all?

Wapsi Banks Buzz Lightyear

May 10, 2000 – February 1, 2010

We put Buzz down this morning at 8:30 am after a relatively brief battle with bone cancer. I’m struggling to find the right tone for this post. Can I laugh and keep it lighthearted? He was a lighthearted dog. Or will I wallow in the quagmire with my tears and fears that we could have waited longer before bringing him in?

I don’t know. Let’s see where it goes.

“You will know.”

Do you know how many people say that about putting a dog to sleep?

I don’t know. I didn’t know. I will never know.

Let me restate that. I did know yesterday, when his tumor began to ooze and bleed, changed almost hourly and threatened to open up completely. I knew when he fell down several times, whimpered in my lap and fought all day to find a comfortable position even when drugged to the limit. (OK, I’ll be honest: over the limit). Of course this happened on a Sunday. We knew in our hearts that it was ‘time’ and began a very long day of saying goodbye to our beloved Buzzy.

I didn’t know this morning, when he came out of the kennel a little more sure on his feet and brighter in the eyes. Were we doing the right thing? As I laid on his bed with him, he growled softly and was shaking quite a bit, and I felt a little better about our decision.

And then he limp-hopped out of the office on two legs and brought me his damn Frisbee.

We laughed through our tears.

And I laugh through my tears now.

And I’m still no surer of our decision.

I loved that stupid dog. I loved him so much.

There is no right decision for something like this. I loved him to the best of my ability and I pray we did the right thing at the right time. This has helped me today:

The godly are concerned for the welfare of their animals.”
Proverbs 12:10 NLT

Will there be animals in heaven? Pet lovers hope so, because earth’s second most important inhabitants are a source of real comfort. What do we know for sure? In the coming Kingdom, “The wolf and the lamb will feed together” (Is 65:25 NIV). Ah, an animal kingdom too! Lambs were actually household pets in Bible days (See 2 Sa 12:3). The Bible says our pets belong to God; we take care of them for Him. God says: “All the animals ‘are mine’” (Ps 50:10 NLT). Furthermore, God holds us accountable for how we treat our pets (Pr 12:10 NLT). So here’s the question we need to consider: When Adam was created, God surrounded him with animals and called it “very good.” When Noah stepped out of the ark to start the world all over again, God made sure that he was surrounded with animals. So when Christ establishes the renewed earth, with renewed men and women, is it a stretch to imagine that He’ll surround us with renewed animals? Eden was perfect — but without animals Eden wouldn’t be Eden. And the new earth is the new Eden — paradise regained. In her book about heaven, Joni Eareckson Tada says, “If God brings our pets back to life, it wouldn’t surprise me. It would be just like Him. It would be totally in keeping with His generous character. With all the dazzling discoveries heaven will hold for me, the potential of seeing Scrappy would be — utterly joyful. Heaven is going to be a place that will reflect in as many ways as possible, the goodness and joy of our great God.” If you’re a pet lover that sounds good, doesn’t it?

Yeah, it sounds pretty good. Hopefully when I see Buzz again, God will have tweaked a few of his behaviors and taught him to fetch properly — a ball and not a rock — but all in all, my Buzzy in heaven, along with Casey, Conroy, Daisy and Patches sounds like Heaven indeed.

The bone cancer started at the site of the plate and screws that held together the broken leg he got when he was two.

Normally, they would have amputated the tumor immediately, but sadly they couldn’t because Buzz was already down to three usable legs since blowing out his ACL this past summer. I was sent home with pain medication and told it would go very quickly. That was on December 14th. From my best guess, the tumor was a factor going back to early fall, when he began shadowing my every move and acting nervous. I cringe to think how angry and impatient I was with him then. In hindsight, it was undoubtedly the pain caused by the tumor we didn’t yet know about.

It still doesn’t really seem real. That dog. He was the most lovable. Stupid. Dominant. Pig headed. Frustrating. Happy-Go Lucky dog we’ve ever had. He came on the heels of the ‘perfect dog’, Casey. And before the Sociopath, non-dog, Lola. He will be in our hearts forever.

Some of my best memories:

He tried to get charlie’s pacifier whenever he could and wanted to be in the middle of any game played. Always.

Buzz and Charlie grew up together. They were more alike than you will ever know.

If I put up every picture I have of this 60 lb dog sleeping in every lap that ever allowed him, it would crash your browser. Here are but a few. He was insistent, relentless and big.

He slept next to me in the office, even when I forgot to bring in his dog bed:

…and would make do with the cat bed, thank you very much.

He loved his daddy:

…with the blue, blue eyes.

He was stupid and silly and lovable.

And when he wasn’t on a lap, he was fishing. In the pool, in the lake… He never caught a one.

He loved to play.

He loved to hunt:

…but not the clothing required to do so.

He tolerated Lola.

…who insinuated herself into his very life and the laps he loved…

…who made friends with CATS and invited them on to his favorite couch on the porch…

…and who basically ruined his life, just as any little sister would.

He loved — most of all — going to the Lake:

…even if it meant sharing his berth with Lola, the cat and even a chinchilla (in the cage), because going to the Lake meant seeing Gramps:

…because he loved my Dad even more than us, I think.

The Traitor.

Goodbye Buzzy. I hope there is fishing in Heaven.

Buzz the Fishing Vizsla

Buzz fishingI figured it was time for a post, but I’m up at my parent’s in Hayward, away from my garden and kitchen. My parents do most of the cooking. I sit on my big, white, lazy butt. Since I don’t have much to complain about, it makes sense that I take this post to acknowledge a somewhat famous part-time resident of Round Lake in Hayward, WI. That would be my dog, Buzz the Fishing Vizsla. From the minute he screams out the back gate of the Suburban to the time we leave, dragging him wet and shivering from the lake minutes before we drive away, he fishes. Patiently, relentlessly, fruitlessly. He starts when the ice goes out in early May and goes thru Labor Day, usually our last trip up until the holidays. We up his food intake to about six cups a day to combat the hypothermic tendency of calorie depletion. (I know that doesn’t make sense, but I like the sound of it.)Even today, on August 15th, the lake temperature is only 69 degrees. I went in for the first time all year yesterday and it took my breath away. A sore departure from my 87 degree pool! Buzz doesn’t seem to mind.

And this fact is what has got me thinking about the similarity between Buzz, and Dave (my husband). Dave also is willing to fish from sun up to sun down without catching a single fish. Like Buzz, his techniques are often in question. I couldn’t find one to show you here, but I have several far-away snapshots of him sleeping with a pole in his hands. Dave loves to fish. Dave loves to sleep. And sometimes he does them at the same time.

It makes me wonder what Dave’s ultimate goals are for fishing. Is it to catch fish? Or to escape the inlaws while at the cabin? His wife? Or to sleep? When in doubt, select “All of the Above.” Dave is actually in Alaska right now with Charlie fishing with his dad, brother and brother in law. I hope he isn’t sleeping.

Anyway,  back to Buzz. He also loves to fish. Because he is up here quite a bit in the summer (my parents generously offer to take our dogs in the summer when we go out of town), he has ample opportunity to spend entire days honing his skills. Boats drive by just to see him. Everyone asks about it. We are so used to it that I guess we don’t think anything of it. Yesterday, he started at 9:30am and didn’t come out until approximately 11:30am — when a girl on a jetski stopped me 20 minutes into my solitary kayak ride to ask me if that was my dog. Sure enough, Buzz had followed me and was all but drowning, what with his bad leg and all. I hauled him out of the water and into the kayak, where he shivered and tipped us for the rest of the trip. I took solace in the idea that being out of the water for about 45 minutes allowed his core temperature to rise above 70 degrees. Once back, he then fished until 4pm when we took him on a boat ride for an hour, and then again until 8:30pm when we hauled him outta there. A good 9 hours in total. Sometimes he stands in the shallows, like below.

Buzz back in 2004.

Other times, and more often, he stands on his hind legs in neck-deep water and propels himself around upright with his front legs tucked up like a kangaroo:

buzz fishing 2

He truly has a screw loose. I searched youtube for other fishing dogs and realized there are some that actually catch fish instead of just staring into the water. And maybe if there were any fish in this stupid lake, Buzz would catch some, too. But somehow I doubt it.

Enjoy the video: