In a few weeks "Gus" Bone vom Hochland will be 18 months old.
I feel guilty for not posting about him (I just added a partial post from April that I never finished) and I am not sure why I haven't posted/written and I can't say that my desire to do so today will continue.
Yesterday I found myself really wanting to share how proud I am of this boy.
Its been a fascinating ride so far, filled with joy, pride, amazement and frustration.
My hope was to do search and rescue with him but the higher power had different intentions. First we were flooded out by Hurricane Florence and then pushed away by all the local SAR groups; "A GSP??? No thanks!"
I still get furious about that. Started at 3.5 mos as we intended to but were thwarted by Florence, Gus would have been a rockstar. And I would have learned how to handle him and his talents.
Instead I did as promised and put him on quail.
One of the most mind-blowing dog moments of my life was to set him down in a 70 acre field with 3 planted quail, no long line, no e-collar, no exposure, just "go find"
And he did, and he pointed.
Powerful genetics at work.
And recall...........those are genetics too.
As posted, at 10 months he did his breed test and received perfect scores. I am not too proud to say that I cried when they announced it. I was so afraid I had failed him but his genetics are strong.
In the last weeks I have seen him mature and gain confidence. My baby beast is tall, strong, athletic, nervy and submissive. He gets in some situations with dogs and it is clear he becomes anxious. I have worked hard to keep him from any negative interactions on leash and to reward him for ignoring other dogs on leash.
Note I have mentioned on leash twice - off leash he removes himself from anything he doesn't like and finds other things to do or easier going dogs to play with.
Its very much a learning process for me as Bugsy was always confident and had very different dog-dog skills.
Recently though I have seen Gus grow in confidence and engage more in multi-dog play. It isn't a necessary activity but it makes me more at ease to see him more at ease.
My Gussy is an expert snuggler, a great companion in the car, absolutely ridiculous when playing, and an amazing trail dog.
Yesterday I was able to walk a trail in woods surrounding a lake and I only had to ask him to stay in range and he'd do a check in immediately.
And he is an absolute fish. He is the strongest swimmer I have ever seen.
There's work to do for both of us. He needs a job and I need to find the right one for him.
He needs to not be so wild in the house - he isn't always wild but when it is, it is WILD!
We need to dedicate more time to training, find a class to formalize it, and keep working.
I fully confess that he is not an easy dog but I knew that going in. His pedigree is exceptional, he is a working line bird dog though and the energy and drive are HIGH.
Bugsy wasn't an easy dog either...........until about 8 yrs old. That's when people started to compliment me on his behavior but they thought he was 2 LOL.
Raising Gus is a reminder of why puppies are cute but not for the faint of heart or really for me. Of course its easier to bring a pup into a pack to assimilate and I think that if I brought Gus home when Bugsy was 8 or so it would have been really beneficial for Gus and a whole lot easier.
But the higher powers had other intentions.
So its Gus and I, figuring out our relationship. Learning about each other, finding the right methods of communication, and building our bond day by day.
I confess, I am glad the real puppy days are behind us and while still very puppy, he is also maturing.
Love ya Gator, here's to many good, active, fun years ahead
Saturday, November 30, 2019
Gus aka Bone aka goofball & savant
I can't really say why I haven't written, I have thought about it but the desire wasn't there. Tonight, I want to write.
"Gus" Bone vom Hochland is now 10+ months old. He's tall, lean, athletic, talented, smart and odd.
And I mean odd.
Despite my ignorance & his limited exposure he had a perfect score in his "derby" or natural ability test. He also was given the highest allowed assessment for conformation.
The limited training I did for that testing gave me a whole new appreciation for the training hunters do and also the level of trust they must have in their dog.
Gus has recalled off leash since forever.
We've had a few blips but his recall is rock solid and I don't feel as though I've put THAT much work into it.
When I think of the amount of work on recall I put in w Bugsy and it was never really reliable, Gus's recall astonishes me.
His nose is so intense that I find myself feeling bad for him at times. His head literally explodes as he takes in scent.
He will walk and/or climb on any surface.
Noise is joyful.
Everything is food.
He loves water.
Leaps like an antelope.
Has a BIG voice.
And sleeps deeply and in contortions..........
never completed this entry
"Gus" Bone vom Hochland is now 10+ months old. He's tall, lean, athletic, talented, smart and odd.
And I mean odd.
Despite my ignorance & his limited exposure he had a perfect score in his "derby" or natural ability test. He also was given the highest allowed assessment for conformation.
The limited training I did for that testing gave me a whole new appreciation for the training hunters do and also the level of trust they must have in their dog.
Gus has recalled off leash since forever.
We've had a few blips but his recall is rock solid and I don't feel as though I've put THAT much work into it.
When I think of the amount of work on recall I put in w Bugsy and it was never really reliable, Gus's recall astonishes me.
His nose is so intense that I find myself feeling bad for him at times. His head literally explodes as he takes in scent.
He will walk and/or climb on any surface.
Noise is joyful.
Everything is food.
He loves water.
Leaps like an antelope.
Has a BIG voice.
And sleeps deeply and in contortions..........
never completed this entry
Tuesday, April 23, 2019
New beginnings
Written 11/30/18 but only published in April 2019
This post should have been written several months ago.
But for one reason ir another I didn't write it.
Today I will introduce you to Gus aka Bone Vom Hochland, currently 5.5 months old and full of energy, inquisitiveness & trouble.
Its hard to believe we are nearing 4 months of developing our relationship, creating our bond and learning who we are.
This post should have been written several months ago.
But for one reason ir another I didn't write it.
Today I will introduce you to Gus aka Bone Vom Hochland, currently 5.5 months old and full of energy, inquisitiveness & trouble.
Its hard to believe we are nearing 4 months of developing our relationship, creating our bond and learning who we are.
Wednesday, July 4, 2018
when the other end of the leash is empty
As I approach 6 dogless months, my understanding of the dynamics of the relationship with dogs & the role they play in my life has never been more clear.
A tremendous amount of emotions & healing has occurred.
The pain of saying goodbye and the relief that his pain was gone.
Realizing how exhausted I was from 17 months of anxiety and care-taking after the cancer diagnosis.
Missing HIM. And feeling lost when navigating life activities that were ours.
Facing that emptiness and doing the things we did.
Visiting the lake and the beach and his/our friends.
It all had to be faced and relearned.
Walking the neighborhood.
I can kayak and observe the garden and drive to the bagel store.
But there is no joy.
Life is mundane, many times it flat out sucks.
There is no diversion.
No ridiculousness.
No playfulness.
I miss feeding him, feeling responsible for his care. There is a connectedness that goes along with that, that isn't the same as with another adult.
I miss training and learning what his skills and preferences were. Learning to read him and communicate with him.
For some, a dog is fun but in a sense a burden.
Not one day did I feel burdened.
6 months later, I know that life without a dog will never be enough.
A dog provides relief from the monotony of work, life tasks & worldwide strife & chaos.
You are greeting by that wagging tail, a hope & belief something great is going to happen, and plain old joy. You smile from the inside out. The day washes away. The world is less ugly.
All I had to do was say, "hey bud" and he'd stare into my eyes, like "absolutely, I'm in. What are we going to do? If its with you, I know its awesome"
Go ahead & try to keep hold of the day's frustrations with that beaming back at you.
Everytime I see an owner walking their dog, I see that bond. I see a human & dog in their routine; trusting, purposeful, connected.
I walk everyday & no longer cry missing him at my side. I am just empty & bored & unable to leave the world of strife. There is no connection to purpose, no fascinating trails to track.
Just steps.
For me, when the other end of the leash is empty, so too am I.
A tremendous amount of emotions & healing has occurred.
The pain of saying goodbye and the relief that his pain was gone.
Realizing how exhausted I was from 17 months of anxiety and care-taking after the cancer diagnosis.
Missing HIM. And feeling lost when navigating life activities that were ours.
Facing that emptiness and doing the things we did.
Visiting the lake and the beach and his/our friends.
It all had to be faced and relearned.
Walking the neighborhood.
I can kayak and observe the garden and drive to the bagel store.
But there is no joy.
Life is mundane, many times it flat out sucks.
There is no diversion.
No ridiculousness.
No playfulness.
I miss feeding him, feeling responsible for his care. There is a connectedness that goes along with that, that isn't the same as with another adult.
I miss training and learning what his skills and preferences were. Learning to read him and communicate with him.
For some, a dog is fun but in a sense a burden.
Not one day did I feel burdened.
6 months later, I know that life without a dog will never be enough.
A dog provides relief from the monotony of work, life tasks & worldwide strife & chaos.
You are greeting by that wagging tail, a hope & belief something great is going to happen, and plain old joy. You smile from the inside out. The day washes away. The world is less ugly.
All I had to do was say, "hey bud" and he'd stare into my eyes, like "absolutely, I'm in. What are we going to do? If its with you, I know its awesome"
Go ahead & try to keep hold of the day's frustrations with that beaming back at you.
Everytime I see an owner walking their dog, I see that bond. I see a human & dog in their routine; trusting, purposeful, connected.
I walk everyday & no longer cry missing him at my side. I am just empty & bored & unable to leave the world of strife. There is no connection to purpose, no fascinating trails to track.
Just steps.
For me, when the other end of the leash is empty, so too am I.
Thursday, February 1, 2018
The amazing life ends, now what
Two weeks ago today it was 'time'.
Fourteen days later and I still feel like he's here.
But he isn't and there are times when that hits me and the sensation is indescribable.
It goes far beyond feeling sad. Or alone.
It feels as if all kinetic energy in the universe suddenly leaves your soul.
Crumbling to the ground, assuming fetal position and slipping under the duvet is the only thing that seems appropriate.
But life doesn't allow that.
And Bugsy wouldn't let me do that or want me to.
So as the song says, "time only goes one way"
Fortunately that feeling is fleeting and only occurs here or there.
Most of the time I think of him with the biggest smile on my face, one that emanates from my heart.
To have had such a powerful force of love and energy in your life for 12+ years is a blessing.
And the outpouring of love for him has been at least as powerful as the love and joy he shared with all of us.
It is overwhelming in all the right ways and my heart is so full.
As I type this, a silly grin is so permanently on my face, my cheeks are cramping.
Friends and family have contributed $860 to a local charity in Bugsy's honor.
EIGHT HUNDRED AND SIXTY DOLLARS
The charity Beyondfences.org builds fences for dogs that live on chains and tethers in low income areas. We'll be building a fence for two rotties on Feb 11 with supplies purchased in Bugsy's honor.
I cannot wait to see those dogs happy to be off those chains. And they'll zoom.
So that is the positive.
The hurt is worst in the morning. Bugsy & I woke up every day for 12+ years pre-dawn and cheerfully explored the early morning and started our days with joyful energy.
From the moment I wake, I hurt deeply, DEEPLY.
I try to summon him to my soul with limited success.
I look to the sky as I walk get the paper - a friend told me I could see him in the sky in Canis Major and Canis Major is easily visible while walking down our drive. I wish him good morning.
Nothing so far has been as difficult and as painful as going for my walk..........alone.
From the moment I walk out of the kitchen door, I feel as though my heart has been removed.
My God it hurts.
As I turn up the street I am so aware of all the things I no longer 'see'.
Bugsy didn't just walk, he worked. Over time, I learned to read him; I knew what critters had been out or were out, well before I'd see them. I knew if a friend was out in the darkness too. Heck I could tell you which friend just by his body language.
Now I am lost. I know nothing.
It is just so fucking empty.
The first quarter mile, I cry. I sob. I see and feel so many walks - from the first one when he was such a cheeky confident pup, through the hot, humid summers, through soaking rain and stinging sleet. Every step seems to recall a different day, a different laugh, or new challenge.
I keep going.
I have to keep going.
Bugsy always kept going.
When I get to the top of the road and turn, suddenly I'm OK.
I'm walking.
The memories make me smile and remind me of what a special thing we had over the years.
The rest of the way, brief moments of loss crash through and I work to shake it off.
This morning when I turned back on the road home, a beautiful sunrise was beginning. Once again my heart sank, WE walked into so many sunrises.
I promise you Bugsy, I will not forget the lessons you provided.
#nobaddays <3 p="">
Fourteen days later and I still feel like he's here.
But he isn't and there are times when that hits me and the sensation is indescribable.
It goes far beyond feeling sad. Or alone.
It feels as if all kinetic energy in the universe suddenly leaves your soul.
Crumbling to the ground, assuming fetal position and slipping under the duvet is the only thing that seems appropriate.
But life doesn't allow that.
And Bugsy wouldn't let me do that or want me to.
So as the song says, "time only goes one way"
Fortunately that feeling is fleeting and only occurs here or there.
Most of the time I think of him with the biggest smile on my face, one that emanates from my heart.
To have had such a powerful force of love and energy in your life for 12+ years is a blessing.
And the outpouring of love for him has been at least as powerful as the love and joy he shared with all of us.
It is overwhelming in all the right ways and my heart is so full.
As I type this, a silly grin is so permanently on my face, my cheeks are cramping.
Friends and family have contributed $860 to a local charity in Bugsy's honor.
EIGHT HUNDRED AND SIXTY DOLLARS
The charity Beyondfences.org builds fences for dogs that live on chains and tethers in low income areas. We'll be building a fence for two rotties on Feb 11 with supplies purchased in Bugsy's honor.
I cannot wait to see those dogs happy to be off those chains. And they'll zoom.
So that is the positive.
The hurt is worst in the morning. Bugsy & I woke up every day for 12+ years pre-dawn and cheerfully explored the early morning and started our days with joyful energy.
From the moment I wake, I hurt deeply, DEEPLY.
I try to summon him to my soul with limited success.
I look to the sky as I walk get the paper - a friend told me I could see him in the sky in Canis Major and Canis Major is easily visible while walking down our drive. I wish him good morning.
Nothing so far has been as difficult and as painful as going for my walk..........alone.
From the moment I walk out of the kitchen door, I feel as though my heart has been removed.
My God it hurts.
As I turn up the street I am so aware of all the things I no longer 'see'.
Bugsy didn't just walk, he worked. Over time, I learned to read him; I knew what critters had been out or were out, well before I'd see them. I knew if a friend was out in the darkness too. Heck I could tell you which friend just by his body language.
Now I am lost. I know nothing.
It is just so fucking empty.
The first quarter mile, I cry. I sob. I see and feel so many walks - from the first one when he was such a cheeky confident pup, through the hot, humid summers, through soaking rain and stinging sleet. Every step seems to recall a different day, a different laugh, or new challenge.
I keep going.
I have to keep going.
Bugsy always kept going.
When I get to the top of the road and turn, suddenly I'm OK.
I'm walking.
The memories make me smile and remind me of what a special thing we had over the years.
The rest of the way, brief moments of loss crash through and I work to shake it off.
This morning when I turned back on the road home, a beautiful sunrise was beginning. Once again my heart sank, WE walked into so many sunrises.
I promise you Bugsy, I will not forget the lessons you provided.
#nobaddays <3 p="">
Sunday, December 31, 2017
"you'll know"
Anyone with an aging pet hears these words over and over from meaningful folks who've been there.
I have countered each time I heard it, "not sure I will."
If you had asked me in September of this year (2017) whether Bugsy could be happy without his walks, I'd have said no.
Yet for about 6-8 wks now, we rarely walk and it's only around the cul de sac. I am not sure why he doesn't want to, he isn't limping or panting, but he doesn't want to.
But he's still happy.
He no longer destroys toys, but he still loves them and squeaks them.
He is riddled with lumps (sounds better than tumors) and no doubt in pain but he eats tons, is playful each day, enjoys his yard wandering, and of course demands treats be placed in his toys.
So despite his tendency to nap most of the day, and the occasional collapse, he's been trucking along.
I could see people looking at me as if it was 'his time' as I said he doesn't go for walks any more, etc. then I'd explain how he's fine; old, tired, fighting cancer, but fine.
Until today.
He didn't want to wake up today.
And when he did, his body was hurting him terribly. His legs were unsteady. His face said, "what the hell is happening?"
Today I saw what his final days look like. I hope that he recovers from this episode and has some more 'good' days but I am not holding my breath.
He improved some during the day, but not enough really.
Not enough for him to say hello to visitors.
Not enough to not have his sling in my hand as he walked.
Not enough to say, he's happy.
So if tomorrow is the same, it's time.
I've seen the line now, you were all right, I know.
I have countered each time I heard it, "not sure I will."
If you had asked me in September of this year (2017) whether Bugsy could be happy without his walks, I'd have said no.
Yet for about 6-8 wks now, we rarely walk and it's only around the cul de sac. I am not sure why he doesn't want to, he isn't limping or panting, but he doesn't want to.
But he's still happy.
He no longer destroys toys, but he still loves them and squeaks them.
He is riddled with lumps (sounds better than tumors) and no doubt in pain but he eats tons, is playful each day, enjoys his yard wandering, and of course demands treats be placed in his toys.
So despite his tendency to nap most of the day, and the occasional collapse, he's been trucking along.
I could see people looking at me as if it was 'his time' as I said he doesn't go for walks any more, etc. then I'd explain how he's fine; old, tired, fighting cancer, but fine.
Until today.
He didn't want to wake up today.
And when he did, his body was hurting him terribly. His legs were unsteady. His face said, "what the hell is happening?"
Today I saw what his final days look like. I hope that he recovers from this episode and has some more 'good' days but I am not holding my breath.
He improved some during the day, but not enough really.
Not enough for him to say hello to visitors.
Not enough to not have his sling in my hand as he walked.
Not enough to say, he's happy.
So if tomorrow is the same, it's time.
I've seen the line now, you were all right, I know.
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
The dimming light
Here we are about 14 months post diagnosis. There have been some very worrying times during this 14 months and the conversation about euthanasia has been had more than once.
Each time the dog that chooses to live, bounced back. Incredulously so in a couple of instances.
However, time is marching on and his poor body is now weak and tired.
His spirit remains powerful and proud.
He is riddled with tumors, his one hind leg severely atrophied, and he is in pain.
But his cheeky, playful personality remains.
A few days ago, he was out being happy and he collapsed. I've noticed that when he tries to be active (Bugsy active or Bugsy happy!) the hair on his back raises. In all his years, the hair on his back has never raised. I knew that this was indicating that he was in pain and knowing him it was significant pain.
So how bad and intense is the pain to cause him to collapse and be unable to get up?
Anyway, here we are almost 3 days later and he has continued to be in intense pain. Although tonight he is able to rest, so that is a relief.
This morning, I was once again thinking that his time was nearly here.
And it might be.
All possible pain meds are on board so if he continues to indicate that the pain is intense, it's time.
My promise has always been I will NOT allow him to suffer.
I am writing this, not to garner support for Steve & I, or even to wish for another unexpected comeback.
His light is dim. Watching the light lose energy is both torture, yet in some ways it smooths the road to his exit.
I am writing and sharing this so that those who love him - and my God there are many - are in the loop and if anything, can wish and pray that in these final weeks he doesn't suffer.
He is the most powerful spirit I have ever known and I am unable to describe the extent by which he has changed me.
It has been an honor and I hope that I do these next few weeks (if that is what we have) right.
Each time the dog that chooses to live, bounced back. Incredulously so in a couple of instances.
However, time is marching on and his poor body is now weak and tired.
His spirit remains powerful and proud.
He is riddled with tumors, his one hind leg severely atrophied, and he is in pain.
But his cheeky, playful personality remains.
A few days ago, he was out being happy and he collapsed. I've noticed that when he tries to be active (Bugsy active or Bugsy happy!) the hair on his back raises. In all his years, the hair on his back has never raised. I knew that this was indicating that he was in pain and knowing him it was significant pain.
So how bad and intense is the pain to cause him to collapse and be unable to get up?
Anyway, here we are almost 3 days later and he has continued to be in intense pain. Although tonight he is able to rest, so that is a relief.
This morning, I was once again thinking that his time was nearly here.
And it might be.
All possible pain meds are on board so if he continues to indicate that the pain is intense, it's time.
My promise has always been I will NOT allow him to suffer.
I am writing this, not to garner support for Steve & I, or even to wish for another unexpected comeback.
His light is dim. Watching the light lose energy is both torture, yet in some ways it smooths the road to his exit.
I am writing and sharing this so that those who love him - and my God there are many - are in the loop and if anything, can wish and pray that in these final weeks he doesn't suffer.
He is the most powerful spirit I have ever known and I am unable to describe the extent by which he has changed me.
It has been an honor and I hope that I do these next few weeks (if that is what we have) right.
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