Right now the lead mushers in this year’s Iditarod hit their halfway point and most have claimed their 24 hour mandatory rest. My daughter and I follow the stats and live blogs several times a day. She asks about them by first name. “Where is Dallas? Is Wade in the top 10? Where is Lance and Marty and the girl twins, Anna and Kristy and the guy from Girdwood and King Jeff?” Yes, King Jeff! Who is currently in the lead, and finally stopping for his 24 hour rest. He might just be King Jeff in 500 miles or so. She also asks when she can start mushing too because she would really like to race one day. Perhaps, kid, perhaps. If I can stand a yard of howling dogs, if I have the money to support a team and training, if snow ever returns to cover our trails here in South Central Alaska. Who knows? Until then, I would love to see Aliy Zirkle take it this year, she has been second so many times, and its time she takes the title. She is currently in third with 15 dogs going strong. If anyone can do it, she can, and Birdie would certainly look up to a female champion.
Which brings me to my dog, still going strong after tail amputation. I have a friend visiting from New Jersey to witness this years Iditarod. Half of her trip had passed when she asked me where the tail was drying. I pointed up, above her head over the kitchen cabinets. Yes, my dogs amputated tail is in the beginning phase of being tanned, and is drying under salt in a high and dry area of my kitchen.
It looks great. Its been there for two weeks and I think one more should do it fine. What is the next step? I could go a few different ways with it, and am consulting with those in the know, because this is all new to me. Taxidermists agree it depends on what I am going to use it for, and to answer that, I cannot yet say, so stay tuned. Perhaps I will determine with my sage subscribers input.
Since, you know the status of the tail, I will update you on the dog’s tale. Goose fared her surgery well, and was up and functioning the next day under some heavy pain medication. She whined pretty consistently for two days. I was never certain if she was lamenting the loss of the tail or if she was truly just in that much pain. It was orthopedic surgery, after all. Not a dog walk in the park for an elderly canine. I did not have to tie the dreaded cone collar on her, not once. She’s a good girl and a smart one. I would not want that contraption on either. Luckily, she was never left alone for more than an hour or so. She was a good patient, downing all her pills and eating her bone broth with gusto. After a few days she wanted to run the yard as usual. It was interesting watching her find her footing while chasing a ball without the counterbalance of a tail. I also now have to rate her satisfaction by, well, I am still figuring that out. Its not that easy. I am certain other dogs are lacking the normal dog social cues when greeting her as well. Its confusing for sure, but we are all just adjusting to life after tail.
After staring at her butt for two weeks straight to make sure it was healing well and she wasn’t licking, I was glad when she finally got the staples and sutures out and I could pay attention to other important things. This, however, suddenly made me aware of a limp. The vet says she is using her body differently and the muscles have to adjust. She might strain here and there but she should be just fine. She has to take it easy with the ball and watch the ice, but that’s actually my job. She’s been cleared to go back on Birdie duty, following her everywhere, ever vigilant, ever overbearing and concerned. That’s a good Shepherd for you.
She proved she was back on the job at the playground last week, shielding a child from a swing with her body. I saw the swing getting higher and the girl standing too close. Goose whined and ran over to press against her as a barrier so the feet of the swing occupant hit Goose instead of the child. Smart dog. That small example is the norm for our Shepherd.
One day she pulled off an amazing act of awareness that I believe was absolutely intentional. You hear of dogs doing amazing things to rescue their owners or others, well, Goose has her own tale to tell.
Our neighbors had moved out and a new renter with children moving in. I went over to greet them with two year old Birdie and Goose. I was chatting with the Mom, while Birdie, the dog and the two kids, who were a few years older, ran about the empty living room. Ten or so minutes had passed, when I noticed the kids focused on the front corner of the room. My intention was to finish the conversation and find out what it was, when Goose suddenly ran over and rapidly consumed something on the floor. Shockingly, it was what the kids were focused on, playing with, and had clenched in their hands. RAT POISON! Pink and undeniable with the open box there for evidence. Goose was scarfing up every pellet she could and adrenaline seared through me. I ripped her away from the area and the Mom and I set about determining if any poison was ingested by the children. After identifying no telltale stain in any mouth, we scrubbed the kids hands and I rushed over to Goose who was licking her pink chops. Panic! Just WHY? At that point my only thought was, dumb dog, you just killed yourself! A series of attempts to induce vomit ensued, injecting peroxide in her mouth with a turkey baster. I succeeded, to my satisfaction, that most of it was vomited up, then called the vet back to determine what was next. Goose ended up taking prophylactic Vitamin K, to counter the effects of poison in her system, which could create internal bleeding. There was nothing else to do but wait and see if she was going to be alright. And she was after all, just fine.
The thing about Goose is, she is not food motivated. She doesn’t beg, does not attack her bowl, she gingerly lifts treats out of dog admirers hands and saves them for days until the moment arrives when she feels she needs a snack. Christmas bones go untouched for weeks, at dinnertime she is comfortably resting on her bed, seemingly unaware of juicy steaks. Why choose the poison in the corner, of all things to eat? Which introduces the fact that I had to believe it was intentional. She knew what she was doing and removed the poison from the kids in the only manner a dog could, by eating it.
I hope Birdie tells this tale long after Goose is gone and only a great memory. Its not often you are saved by your dog, which is what I am going to say she undeniably, and with acute awareness, tried to do. In my book, she is very, very close to the best dog ever. That title is currently held by my beloved and departed Rottweiler, Bayou, who actually saved my life. But that’s another story.
In the interim of finishing Goose’s tale, the top 11 mushers have reached the checkpoint of Galena, 545 miles into “The Last Great Race On Earth.” There have been five scratches, a team sickened with bad chicken, mushers caught sleeping while the dogs raced on, a stabbing, a team lost, some interesting strategies emerging, and lots of great stories coming through from the live blogs. It is exciting to say the least, and through it all, Aliy Zirkle is still in second, pushing on with a great chance to take the lead. If you hadn’t thought of it before, now would be a good time to follow the Iditarod. Dogs are amazing creatures, as well as man and woman’s best friend. That I can claim with the certainty of experience.
