Hello Again

Wow, I can't believe a year has come and gone since this "blog" thing was started. I have been terrible about keeping it up over the summer, because man has it been a busy one. We've had weddings and multiple trips out and with sketchy internet service, I just haven't made myself sit down to write.

The past year has been filled with highs and lows. As of right now, we have 6 months left in Norway House. This posting has probably been one of the most life-changing experiences I've ever had. In general, I've lived a pretty sheltered, rose-coloured glasses kind of life. I knew there was tough stuff out there and have definitely had challenges over the years, but this is a whole new ball game. I've seen some amazing stuff happen here and I've seen horrific things that still come back to me in dreams and flashes when I'm least expecting it. That being said, I would not change the 3 years spent here for anything. It has truly changed my soul and what I consider important in life.

I am going to keep writing the various funny stories about RD as before, but I am also going to include some stories of other animals that have crossed my path here. Over the past year I have become more involved with the animal rescue community in Manitoba along with finding homes myself for a few animals. I've realized what a never-ending cycle this neglect/abuse really is. Some of the harder stories need to be shared so if  for nothing else, they will honor the life of the animal that suffered.

So anyway, here's to a new year full of love and things you cherish the most!

RD in the City (Fall 2010)

Because there are not any sort of kennels/pet hotels anywhere near Norway House, RD is always our traveling buddy on our trips south. For a better part of the trip to Winnipeg, there is not much to see; basically the road is cut through the dense northern “bush”. 

The only thing of interest to him on the gravel road portion is a black bear that hangs around a certain area during the summer. The bear has obviously been fed before because he runs onto the road when he sees a car. (Side note: Please do not feed bears. It only causes trouble for them because they eventually become the “problem bears” that you see bugging people and then they are killed by humans, the species that got them in trouble in the first place.)

Anyway, we had the windows cracked during one of our trips and low and behold the bear is sitting there in the middle of the road. RD smelled the bear before he saw it, and he FREAKED OUT. I have never seen him so vicious. All of his hair was standing up and he was frothing at the mouth while growling and snarling. The bear heard him and starting RUNNING AFTER THE JEEP. We were definitely not the calm-assertive dog owners we should have been at this point. I was yelling at Ryan to speed up while he was yelling at me to get the windows rolled up.

Other than that, after the landscape opens up a bit to the prairie/farmland of southern Manitoba, RD gets mad at different things that he is not used to seeing, like hay bales, horses, and cows.

On the particular trip that is the center of this story, I had to drop Ryan off in Winnipeg as he was going on a weekend trip with some friends while I continued on south to my parents’ house in Grafton, ND. We had our friend Justin with us on the journey as he was going with Ryan for the weekend. I was to drop them off at a main building of their work to meet friends, which happened to be on the busiest street in Winnipeg.

RD was already worked up because he does not like driving through the city. He becomes overwhelmed by strange sights and smells and gets almost frantic. We arrived at headquarters and the guys were unloading their bags while I stood with RD on a leash. He was doing just fine until I felt him start to struggle against the leash. I looked over and there was a woman walking with a dog. They had just crossed the busy street and were walking by us on the opposite side of the street we were parked on.

Fate must have felt like sneering at my expense that day, because somehow in his excitement, RD twisted and dodged in just the right way so that his collar slipped right off of his neck. For a split second that felt like an eternity, I stood on the sidewalk still holding the leash attached to the collar. RD BOLTED. Head low and tail straight out behind him he tore across the street towards the woman and her dog. I had no idea what he would do because as he has had some bad experiences with other rez dogs (like in the rollerblading story), he sometimes was not friendly to new acquaintances, especially big males. At that moment I thought for sure that 1. RD would attack that dog because of fright and then he would have to be put down immediately, 2. He would get hit by a car, or 3. He would be long gone and we would never see him again.

I managed to scream at Ryan who was in the midst of taking bags out of the back and he bolted thanks to quick cop reflexes. I was frozen in sheer terror. Justin was not about to get involved in the mess. After I got some of my senses back, I ran across the street just in time to see RD reach the woman and dog and Ryan reach RD. All of a sudden, he just stopped and started prancing around wagging his tail. He just wanted to get over there lickidy split to show off for the cute gal. We started apologizing profusely to the woman; I couldn’t even look up to meet her eyes. She was too sweet, she said not to worry and that her dog got out of her collar “all of the time.”

After we got RD back in his shackles and my heart stopped having a heart attack, we regrouped back by the vehicle. It was still too soon to laugh about the possibly tragic incident but we went over the details. Justin said that he did not see the woman and dog at first and just thought RD was heading for the hills. He also told me that the dog was a SEEING EYE DOG. The woman was blind. I could just imagine the headlines if things had turned out badly: “Cop’s Dog Attacks Woman and Her Service Dog.” The police hating press of Winnipeg would just eat that up.

It now made sense why she never flinched when RD ran towards them. Also, I’m sure her well-trained service dog gets out of her collar “all the time”.

Riding in the Jeep

Problem bear





Rollerblading in February: Epic Fail (February 2010)

Sometimes harsh winters of the north make people a little crazy. At any sign of it ending, people here take advantage and I was no different. This was our first winter; RD was about 8 months old. It had been sunny for a couple of days in a row and pretty darn warm for the end of February (in the upper 20s F), so the road leading to RCMP point was about half bare black top. I was feeling so good and hopeful of spring that Saturday that I took RD for a run outside. As it takes him more than a measly run (I’m no marathoner) to tire him out (and behave) I had an idea on the last leg of it.

I skipped down the steps to the basement and dug out my old rollerblades that I hadn’t worn in at least 5 years. I figured it would be a great way to enjoy the day and get RD really tired at the same time. I had to drive a little ways on the road as there was still ice and snow everywhere until that beautiful length of black.

As I strapped the blades on and we got going, I was totally exhilarated. The dog loved it, he was running and I was sailing along behind him. “I AM THE DOG WHISPERER!,” I thought and threw my face up to the sun and laughed an almost maniacal laughter.  I got to the stop sign of the main road and turned around. I was crazy, but not enough so to go into traffic with RD at the reins.

When we were getting close to the Jeep, we passed the road that led to the only other houses on the point. This was always the point where we saw 3 of RD’s mortal enemies. Two yellow dogs (which I’m pretty sure are his brothers) and a big black Shepherd mix with haunting blue eyes. Usually I can yell from a distance and they scram, but that day was different. The dogs kind of came at us and RD was having none of it. He started snarling and charging towards them. I did not want to let go of the leash as RD would not have a chance against all 3. This worked until we hit the line where the bare road met the thick ice. I don’t exactly remember the order of events during the next few seconds that felt like minutes, but it went something like this:

Needless to say, the brakes on the blades were not sufficient. While we were barrelling along the left side of the road I saw a vehicle coming from our compound. The dogs were a little ways ahead on the right side of the road. Just as RD started to cross over, the road met the ice and I literally flew into the air. As I landed HARD flat on my belly with my arms out in front of me and my legs splayed to the sides, I dropped the leash. RD kept going. As I looked up to the left, the vehicle coming screeched to a stop in front of me. It was someone Ryan worked with. He and his wife kindly laughed at me and drove around me still on the ground. Thanks, a**holes.  RD had gotten to the dogs and they were snarling and nipping. As it turned into a real fight, I was lurching over screaming the kind of ugly scratchy scream that could make a child cry. The dogs knew I meant business and retreated. RD sat whining in the opposite ditch and refused to move. Only his foolish pride was hurt, but still I had to trudge in rollerblades in snow up to my knees to drag him back to the Jeep. We went home and I cancelled out my run with a beer.

The rollerblades have not seen sunshine since that day.

Not a common scene in our house.



From Here on Out

Now that I have gotten through the basic background stories, I will start with the memories that stick out in my mind the most. They will not be in total chronological order, but I will try to include the date when they happened until I work up to present day.... There is definitely nothing extraordinary about my life or these stories, but writing this stuff down is like therapy for me. It really helps me evaluate how I felt about my life and state of mind at the time they occurred. It doesn't matter if my day is super great or super horrible, RD is there all of the time and he contributes to most every memory I have since we found him.

They say that pets can lower your blood pressure and generally make your life healthier, but I can honestly say RD has shaved at least a few minutes off of my life, and I say this with love. I wouldn't have it any other way...



Second Vet Trip & Hip Surgery

By that time I was working, so Ryan had to do the trips to Thompson. During my last days as a free woman, I taught RD simple commands like sit and shake. He was a fast learner. He also spent time playing with Kylie and Justin’s shepherd, Cash (our neighbours who named RD). We noticed a funny kind of scampering run during the outings, but did not become concerned. He ran with his back legs together, in a sort of hop. He really tried to keep up and did not advertise pain, so we encouraged the exercise.

I remember mentioning to Ryan to ask about the hopping run at the next appointment, but did not think anything would come of it. On his way home, Ryan called to recount the conversation with the vet. When Ryan asked about his run, the vet paid much attention to his hips and ended up taking x-rays. The results were not good. RD’s left hind femur (thigh bone) was totally snapped way up by the hip joint, a devastating injury for a dog. He also said that this injury would have required a lot of force to occur. For example: getting hit by a car, being thrown out of the window of a car, or withstanding some severe abuse. The itching motion I thought RD possessed was really him holding his leg up as close to his body as possible. Ryan gave me the options. We could amputate his leg, consent to surgery that aimed to not fix the problem but to reduce pain, or put him to sleep out of compassion. I could not tell what Ryan was leaning towards as I was sobbing by this time. This dog had been running/playing his heart out, not showing the slightest ounce of pain, which the vet told us he would have had a lot of. I hung up the phone and immediately called my mom, the only thing I could think of to do. As soon as she figured out that no one had died (she was not used to me calling crying so hard I wasn’t able to speak), she was able to provide some comfort. “Of course you will do the surgery”.

At that moment, she knew what I needed was not the adult mother-daughter relationship of telling me "you are grown up, you need to make this decision yourself", but the comforting reassurance of the decision I had already made in my heart.

 There wasn’t any question.

Surgery involved removing the top part of the femur along with the ball joint of the hip. The hope was that a sort of pseudo-joint would form out of connective tissue and pain would be greatly reduced if not gone.The recovery was hard because he was not used to resting and that is what he needed to do for weeks. But, since being healed, there has been no trace of any problem except on days that are really cold or if he has had tons of exercise. Only then will you see the faintest trace of a limp. The surgery was a complete success. Those weeks were very bonding for us, he learned to be spoiled and that scrambled eggs are WELL worth being inside all day for.

Note: Of course he was neutered as soon as he was old enough, but there is nothing interesting in that surgery story :).

Tough guy scar- he even let me take the stitches out!

First Vet Trip

Of course I had to take pictures of him and post them to Facebook as soon as I got him on our gated back deck. I shouldn’t have to be the only one to be sad over him, I thought. All of the comments concluded that I should indeed keep him. Sold! After some extensive discussion, his name was RD (Rez Dog). A highly original suggestion made by a neighbour and good friend.

At that time, I did not have experience with taking in a stray puppy. He looked healthy enough except for his obvious malnutrition and constant itching. I tried to ignore the fact that if I parted his dirty fur and looked at his skin, I could see what appeared to be dandruff and the occasional tiny insect. So, off to the vet we went. Sounds simple enough, except the nearest vet is a good 3 hours from Norway House in Thompson, Manitoba. Two of which are gravel road. Nevertheless, we packed up my Jeep a few days later and took off. Most of the three days leading up to this was spent bathing and feeding him. He seemed pretty docile, sitting in the position he had taken when I first met him, in my lap with his face shoved into the crease my bent knee made.  He was easy to “potty train”, and I didn’t think about it at the time, but looking back I think it was a desire to please and not be abandoned again. He was trying to impress us.

By this time I had internet diagnosed him like any good mother of a sick child does. I had come up with cheyletiella dermatitis, a type of mange characterized by the appearance of dandruff. And like any good health care professional who listens to Dr. Mom’s diagnosis, the vet looked  at me with eyebrows raised and said “ummmm, ok” while going back to his examination. Low and behold, my diagnosis was wrong. Turned out to be canine lice, which I didn’t think sounded any better but turned out to be easy to get rid of and not contagious to us or the cats. Other than that he was declared a healthy 10 lb. husky/possibly part wolf pup. As we left the exam room, the vet told RD to go and enjoy the rest of his life, as the hard part was now over for him :).

Not much else interesting happened that day except our Jeep had some troubles and we had to take it to the dealer for repair. It was raining and the women working in the showroom invited us in for shelter. I was hesitant as we had an animal with us. They laughed at my shyness and spent the next half an hour fawning over him as he sat proudly in my arms, still as a statue. He acted like he had always done this, his former life all but forgotten.

Pit stop at Pisew Falls on the way to the vet.

It Began

The afternoon my life took an about face began with a phone call on a sunny summer day. (I had not yet started my new job as a nurse so I was enjoying every moment of my free time by the lake, which was conveniently out my back door.) It was Leah, a neighbour from a few houses down. I can’t quite remember the exact wording, but the call went something like this: “Eliza, you have to get over here! A little puppy is in our yard and I don’t know what to do he’s so cute!”

Within about 2 minutes I was through the gate of their front yard. She knelt in the grass along with her 2 young sons. They sat trying to feed the sad looking creature water from a small toy bucket. Despite his pathetic appearance, he hopped around wagging his tail as if to say, “Hi hi hi, I am a good dog a good dog! Keep me!”. Leah looked up from the grass and said that she had heard pained yelping and ran outside to see the pup emerge from the dense woods that lined their yard. He tried to scamper around, his left hind leg constantly raised in what appeared to be a kind of constant itching position.

I sank to the ground legs crossed. He was there in my lap in an instant. I ran my hand from his head down to his tail. Along the way, his skeleton was clearly palpable. My heart twisted inside. I had seen many of these dogs and puppies along the roads and begging eagerly outside of the grocery store and that was hard enough. But, having a starving, itchy, suffering being in my lap was almost unbearable. He shoved his face into the crease of one of my knees and kept still. Leah, creases of worry lining her face said, “he is just so cute but I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep him here; Glenn (her husband) is too allergic.”

I had no choice. I called Ryan at work and explained the situation. We naively concluded that he could have possibly wandered away from his home and his owners were looking for him. The area where the RCMP and DNR (Department of Natural Resources) members who are posted here work and live is basically a peninsula jutting out onto the lake. There are few other local residents near us apart from one road about a quarter kilometer away where there are a few houses. We figured he had to have come from there as there was no way a pup as small as this could have made it much farther. Before putting him into the back of a police truck to go door to door and try to get him home, I wanted him to have a full belly. I brought the only thing I had: a small tin of wet cat food. He lurched hungrily forward and stood there shaking and growling the whole time he ate. I could feel the tears coming but managed to hold them back until Ryan pulled away. 

I walked back to my house with tears streaming down my cheeks. About 15 minutes later I ran to the door as a truck pulled up. I knew as soon as Ryan walked around to the back of the vehicle that he had failed. As much as I wanted him to have a home, I felt a surge of relief. If he was someone’s, they obviously did not take care of him. He sat in the grass and looked at me with that cock-eyed, heart melting gaze that only puppies can accomplish. I raised my head and met Ryan’s eyes. He said “Well we can at least keep him over night.”  Famous last words.

At that moment, although both of us would have denied it at the time, he was ours.

One of the first days...