The Dog Star

Sirius, the Dog Star, faded from the night sky at the farm by mid-April. Carmen, our Star Dog, was in ascension and finishing her Physical Therapy (PT) from leg surgery at the end of April. The three of us kept each other company for three months during Carmen’s recovery.

Carmen injured her back leg in January and required TPLO* surgery to repair it.  Regular readers of this blog will remember that I talked about her injury and first week of PT previously**.  Since then, we’ve done twelve weeks of PT, plus confinement in a crate at night and doing everything on a leash. To prevent her from reinjuring the leg, no free running or walking was allowed. It’s been a challenge. 

I have two lasting memories from the past twelve weeks. 

The first was our daily PT sessions. During the first week, we started with three five-minute sessions each day with Carmen tripoding around. By the six-week mark, she started barking in the middle of the morning and then later in the afternoon when it was time for her PT. “Let’s go!”, she seemed to say. By week twelve, Carmen graduated to two daily workouts of 35-40 minutes each, covering about two miles in each session. A stellar patient, by the end of three months, she was rock solid with no apparent issues. 

We Walked a Lot of On-Leash Miles Together.

My second memory was of our walk each night at the end of the evening, for her to go to the bathroom one last time before bed. Looking up in the southern sky, I would see Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. In the crisp winter air, I often stood and contemplated the Dog Star, as Carmen went about her business. 

Photo on the Right From Our Backyard in February.

Sirius is a part of the constellation, Canis Major, which translates to the “Great Dog”. In Greek mythology, Canis Major is often associated with Orion, the hunter. In fact, if you look up in the winter sky, the two constellations are near each other and Orion’s belt always points to Sirius. They are forever tied together as they pass overhead. As with Orion and Canis Major, Carmen and I were also tied together this past winter, focusing on her return to good health.

Backyard Photo of Orion’s Belt Pointing to the Dog Star in March.

Over the course of history, ancient mariners used Sirius for navigation.  It was also considered a somewhat mystical star and regarded as a source of inspiration, guiding spiritual searchers on their journeys.

I think the Dog Star was doing that for us a little bit as well. Viewing Sirius gave me comfort and encouragement during the passing weeks. Maybe it was just knowing something out there was permanent and lasting. It had been in the sky forever and would continue shining long after we were gone. Our problems and dramas seemed a bit inconsequential in the big scheme of things. 

Through February and March, I marked the passage of Sirius across the heavens. Starting high and to the East in the southern sky, as winter passed, the Dog Star moved a little lower and a little further to the West each evening.  

As April arrived, Carmen grew stronger, while Sirius continued moving lower in the sky. By the middle of the month, the Dog Star was no longer visible at the farm – nearby hills and tall trees blocked a view as it fell lower and lower in the night sky. Carmen and I were left to finish her recovery on our own, or so I thought. 

We continued working hard for the next couple of weeks …

Then, near the end of April, Cath, Carmen and I went to the Chesapeake Bay for a few days. Early one evening, I took Carmen out a little after dinner for a short walk. I happened to look to the southwest across the Bay, and there was our old companion, Sirius, low in the sky. I wasn’t sure at first, as it seemed a bit pale in the evening gloam.  Looking to the right, I found Orion, just above the horizon, with his belt pointing straight at our friend. I smiled and gave Carmen a pat on the head. The Dog Star, back with us for one last night, was telling me all was well with the world.

Two days later, Cath and I called the vet and received the green light to let Carmen start walking and running off leash again. We took it slow, with off-leash activities confined to the yard, between the house and barn.  Those first few days were great. Carmen has stuck close to us, even though she’s off leash. You can see her wiggle and know she’s happy, but she too is taking it easy and not overdoing it. I think she understands what’s going on as well. As time passes, we’ll begin doing our regular off leash walks, but for now we’re careful. 

Cath and Carmen, Enjoying the Sunshine, and No Leash.

As May arrived and Canis Major totally disappeared, we continued our training with more off-leash exercise. There have been a couple minor bumps, but we seem on track. By early August, when the Dog Days of Summer*** arrive and Sirius rises in conjunction with the sun, our lives will, with more work and some luck, return to normal.  In the meantime, we are taking it day-by-day, tied together like Orion and Canis Major, traversing our nearby fields and trails. 

Addendum:

• * TPLO surgery – You can’t really repair a dog’s ligaments. Instead, they now do something called tibial plateau leveling osteotomy (TPLO) surgery, a major advancement in the treatment of ligament rupture. “This surgery changes the angle and relationship between the thigh bone (femur) and the shin bone (tibia).  The overall intent of the surgery is to reduce the amount the tibia shifts forward during a stride. This is accomplished by making a semicircular cut through the top of the tibia, rotating the top of the tibia, and using a bone plate to allow the tibia to heal.  This realignment of the surfaces within the knee (stifle) helps provide stability during a stride and helps reduce future joint inflammation and osteoarthritis. By carefully adjusting the angle or slope of the top of the tibia, surgeons can create a more normal configuration of the knee joint and reduce mechanical stress.”  You can learn more here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tibial-plateau-leveling_osteotomy
• If you live in Northern Virginia/the Virginia Piedmont I can’t recommend DR Nicholson and Salutaris Veterinary Specialists enough. You can learn more about them here: http://www.salutarisvet.com
• ** Here’s the blog about Carmen’s injury, surgery and initial PT: My walking companion for the past nine years is sidelined. Carmen needed surgery last week to repair a ruptured ligament in her left rear leg. We went down this road with a previous dog and are familiar with the journey. It doesn’t make it any less distressing for […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2024/02/06/carmens-surgery/
• *** The “Dog Days of Summer” have been called that for over 2,000 years.  Early August is called the Dog Days of Summer, as that is when Sirius is first seen again, after disappearing from the night sky. It’s observable in the early morning sky and rises over the horizon about the same time the sun does. In ancient history, they thought the extra bright star, in addition to the sun, is what made it so hot. 

Top and Cathy

With no kids to talk about, Cath and I have a million stories about our dogs, particularly our first dog, Top. Don’t parents always have the most pictures and stories about their first born?! A German friend called Top “Einmalig”, which translates to “one of a kind”. This story, from 1981, involved Top, Cathy hitting a tree with our car, the MPs, the German Polizei and a little old lady. We were stationed in Würzburg, Germany at the time.

Cathy and Top, Around the Time of the Story.

Cathy had been shopping at the commissary and was returning home with both Top and our groceries in the back seat. Here is her version of what happened.

#—#

Top and I were on our way home from shopping at the commissary at Leighton Barracks in Würzburg one afternoon. As we entered a traffic circle, I must have been going a little too fast, as the groceries fell over onto Top and scared him. Out of my peripheral vision I saw him try and jump out my car window. I caught him by the collar and pulled him back into the car, but of course I didn’t pay attention to where I was driving. When I looked back at the road I was heading straight for a tree, which I hit. I must have only glanced off of it because the car was fine, or so I thought at the time.

I kept driving and stopped at a red light, where reaction to the accident set in. I said to Top in the back seat, “Well at least we are still together and OK!” I looked in the back and Top wasn’t there – he jumped out of the window after all. I pulled over and imagining the worst, got out of the car and looked under it, making sure I hadn’t dragged him by his leash. No Top there, so that was a small bit of grace, but where was he, and what to do?

I was near the American MP station, so I drove there.  I repeated the story of what happened, and they decided it would be prudent to call the Polizei.  

In Germany, they treat their animals and trees well. Really well. If you illegally kill an animal or damage or fell a tree, there are hefty fines. Hearing we were involving the PoIizei, I naturally became concerned and worried about both them and a potential fine. My only real interaction with the Polizei up to this time was at the German airports where they guarded against terrorists, were always in riot gear and carrying automatic weapons.  You didn’t mess around with them.

The Polizei arrived and looked a bit stern at first.  I explained everything again, this time in German, and at one point I think I saw one of the Polizei hiding a laugh or a small smirk.  I should point out you generally didn’t see the Polizei laughing.   In this instance they were quite nice and helpful.  We determined the tree wasn’t really damaged and they let me go with a warning to drive more carefully.  

As I was getting ready to leave, it turned out something was wrong with the car, as it was making a funny noise. The MPs and I decided to leave the car at the MP station and have someone pick me up. We called Hindenburg Kaserne where Max was stationed, but he had deployed to an undisclosed location in the field and was unreachable. His company said they would send Lieutenant Smrt (yes, that really was his last name – it had no vowels) from his Company to pick me up.

I was waiting on a corner for LT Smrt’s arrival when all of a sudden Top, seemingly without a care, trotted down the sidewalk towards me, trailing his leash. I grabbed him and sat on the corner hugging and holding him, crying tears of joy and relief. A little old lady who was walking by, stopped and asked me what was wrong and “Ist dein Hund krank?” (Is your dog sick?) I looked at her and just couldn’t go through the story a third time, and for a second time in German. I said the easiest thing that came to mind. “Ja. Er hat Krebs.” (Yes, he has cancer.) She petted Top, wished us good luck and looking sad, walked away.

We’ve told this story over the years and it always gets a chuckle. I laugh at myself a bit in the telling. We spoke fluent, or near fluent German at the time, but I was so overwhelmed with emotions, the “Krebs” story was the best I could do. 

#—#

Top was with us for 16 years, dying, not of cancer, but old age in 1997. By then he was a world traveler, having crossed the Atlantic three times, visited numerous European countries and several States back home. He truly was Einmalig and we still miss him and his antics.

Top – With and Without a Haircut.

Addendum:

Here are three previous blogs about Top.

• I don’t know if our dog,Top, could bark in both German and English, but he had a fluent understanding of the two languages … We discovered this outside our local Bäckerei (Bakery), when an old German lady bent down, looked at Top and said “Gib mir deine Pfote”. As she extended her hand, Top […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2020/07/15/our-bilingual-dog-top/
• Next month, it will be 25 years since our first dog, Top, passed away. He was 17 at the time. I was recently thinking about him, as we placed baskets on couches and chairs, so our current dog, Carmen, couldn’t hop up for a quick snooze while we were out. We weren’t that smart with Top. He was a covert couch sleeper the entire […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2021/12/01/let-sleeping-dogs-lie/
• Top was our first dog, but not our last. When he died in 1997 at seventeen years of age, I think we cried for three days. We still have a book with all of the sympathy cards our friends sent us. If you want to know a bit more about Top, here’s the eulogy we read when we spread his ashes at Tibbet Knob, on the border between Virginia and West Virginia […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2017/01/09/top/

Carmen’s Surgery

My walking companion for the past nine years is sidelined. Carmen needed surgery last week to repair a ruptured ligament in her left rear leg. We went down this road with a previous dog, Holly, and are familiar with the journey. It doesn’t make it any less distressing for the three of us.

Carmen in Happier Times.

Yep, nine years of walking together came to an end about ten days ago. Our neighbors haven’t done a good job of managing their dog Kylie and keeping him under control*. I actually like Kylie. He’s a Golden Retriever and friendly enough. The problem is, after two years they still don’t keep Kylie at home. They “think” they do; the reality is something else and Kylie wanders. Ten days ago, we found him in our yard again playing roughly with Carmen and jumping on her. It wasn’t done meanly, but he outweighs her by 25 pounds. I sent him home, and then noticed Carmen limping. That night the limp worsened and the next morning, she wouldn’t put weight on the leg. That’s when we went to the vet.

Evaluations, tests, X-rays … the results came back. She needed surgery for a torn ligament in her leg. We were lucky there was a cancellation for another patient and scheduled her surgery for the following Wednesday.

X-ray of Camen’s Knee, and an Explanation of the Surgery.

The first morning after the doctor’s initial evaluation was a challenge. I took her outside on a leash to do her business. She gave me a look as I put on the leash – “Well, this is strange.” As she did a three-legged hop down the driveway, she became visibly upset and stopped in her tracks when I diverted her onto the grass to potty. “What?! What are you doing?! We ALWAYS walk to the barn in the morning!” I had no way of explaining this was for her own good and I was just looking out for her. After she finished, I carried her back towards the house, before putting her on the ground. She dutifully hopped into the house on her three good legs.

She’s a good dog, and a brave dog. I hated seeing her hop around as a tripod before the surgery. There were no complaints. Just the sad look in her eyes when I left the house without her to go for a walk, or to clean the horse stalls. I knew she’d happily try to three-leg-hop for two miles with me if I let her. She doesn’t understand, of course.

Wednesday came and the surgery went well. She had a procedure called a TPLO**. Our surgeon, DR Nicholson let us know, “Carmen did great!” Bringing her home, the first day was tough for all three of us. Carmen was out of it and mostly slept. We were able to get her to drink a little water and take her pain pills with a little peanut butter, but that was it. She didn’t want to stir and we didn’t force it. Finally, it was time for bed. She was sleeping so soundly, we didn’t take her out.

Knocked Out the First Night.

I slept on the couch that night, and her bed was nearby. Around 3AM I woke and sensed something. I looked to my right and Carmen was sitting up, looking at me. After putting her leash on, I carried her outside and gently put her down. She tripodded a bit and then urinated. She hopped a dozen steps or so, and then poo’d as well. I carried her back inside, gave her a treat and some more water and we shared a look. That’s when I knew she was going to be OK.

We both slept in the next morning. After feeding the horses, I returned and a while later, Carmen stirred. Cath and I both greeted her and she gave us a small tail wag. A brief walk outside to do her business, then some water, a little food, and more pills.

Later, we looked at each other again. It was time to start rehab and so we did. She tripodded out for another pee, and then we did our first Physical Therapy (PT) session – a five minute walk. Two more PT sessions followed that day. Also, we now had to occasionally use an Elizabethan Collar*** to keep her from licking her stitches.

Carmen in Her Elizabethan Collar.

She slept through the next night and in the morning, we walked to the barn. Well, I walked and she hopped. She was happy back at the barn and sniffed around. We fed the horses and returned to the house. Our first PT session of the 2nd day was complete.

Doing PT.

Time passed and by day three post-surgery, she was more normal and more alert. PT continued and she put more weight on her leg. It was a warm February day, and what she really wanted was a chance to lay in the sun like the old days, pre-injury. We both spent some time soaking up rays.

Sometimes, a Little Warm Sunshine Helps as Much as PT

Over the next several days, Cath and I both spent time exercising Carmen. We do our three sessions a day religiously and you can see her improving. She is using the injured leg more as she walks. As a patient, her attitude is great. We should all be so enthusiastic when we need to do PT after injuries or surgery.

And so it begins. The first week is in the books. We have goals and checkpoints along the way – the three-week mark; the 6-8 week time period; three months… With hard work, good luck and God’s grace, Carmen will be “normal” in five to six months.

Right now, we’re taking it one day at a time.

Addendum:

• * After the first vet visit, I had a not particularly pleasant conversation with Kylie’s owner. He was “surprised” Kylie was still coming to our place and was sorry (I called bullshit – Kylie is at our place at least once a week and visits other neighbors as well). I told him he needed to control Kylie – A fence, an underground fence, or only letting Kylie out when he was with him. If I saw Kylie on our property again, we would have an issue. He agreed. Of course, Kylie was on our property again two days later. I let the owner know if I saw Kylie again, I would call animal control. He assured me they are putting in a fence and for now, Kylie wouldn’t be outside unless tied up. We’ll see. I don’t hate Kylie or hold him responsible. I do put blame on his owners. It’s never good when your dog needs to go through surgery. It’s a bit sad when it was avoidable. Too little too late, as they say. Maybe I should have been an ass about Kylie earlier.

• ** TPLO Surgery – You can’t really repair a dog’s ligaments. Instead, they now do something called Tibial Plateau Leveling Osteotomy (TPLO) surgery, a major advancement in the treatment of ligament rupture. “This surgery changes the angle and relationship between the thigh bone (femur) and the shin bone (tibia). The overall intent of the surgery is to reduce the amount the tibia shifts forward during a stride. This is accomplished by making a semicircular cut through the top of the tibia, rotating the top of the tibia, and using a bone plate to allow the tibia to heal. This realignment of the surfaces within the knee (stifle) helps to provide stability during a stride and helps to reduce future joint inflammation and osteoarthritis. By carefully adjusting the angle or slope of the top of the tibia, surgeons can create a more normal configuration of the knee joint and reduce mechanical stress.” You can learn more here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tibial-plateau-leveling_osteotomy
• *** I like “Elizabethan Collar” or E-Collar so much better than “Cone of Shame”. No need to make fun of them when they are vulnerable.

Talking to the Animals

I’m no Doctor Dolittle, but I do “Talk to the Animals” here at Rohan Farm, and do so on a pretty regular basis. Most mornings, we have conversations, although they tend to be a trifle one sided, at least in a verbal sense. Still, I think we have a pretty good understanding of each other.

It starts when I wake up in the morning. Carmen, our dog, will stir and I’ll ask her if she had a good night sleep. She doesn’t answer, and instead does a couple of “downward dog” yoga stretches while waking up and looking at me. Eventually, we are both awake and go downstairs and out the door.

At the barn, I greet our horses, Katy and Stella, with a good morning, and ask them if they had a restful night, and whether there were any visitors to the barn. They tend to just look at me, and the look says “Where were you? It’s time for our breakfast!” On cold mornings, when there’s some ice in their buckets, I’ll also ask if they were warm enough during the night. Of course they were, but it seems a friendly thing to ask. While getting their food, I keep a bit of chatter going about the beautiful sunrise outside the barn, or the new snow on the ground, and aren’t they going to be surprised when they are turned out. They respond by stomping their hooves, or scraping the bars on the stall doors with their teeth, wanting to know where the hell breakfast is. Eventually, I give it to them, and things quiet down, while they munch away.

Katie and Stella – “Where’s my breakfast!?”

Now, it’s time to feed our cats, Stan and Ollie, and I again greet them with a hello and ask how their night was. Lately, it’s been fairly cold, so we’ve allowed them to sleep in the heated tack room, rather than the barn itself. They purr and wrap around my legs, or rub up against Carmen as they wait for breakfast. I’ll ask them if they heard Momma Cat out in the barn last night. Momma is a cat whose owner moved away, and we have seemingly adopted. Cathy frequently sees her, but she is quite shy around Carmen and me and we rarely do. As I leave the barn, I call out a loud hello to Momma Cat, and noisily put some food in a bowl in the hay area for her. Of course, she is nowhere to be seen.

Carmen and I then return to the house for our own breakfasts. As we enter the mudroom, Carmen immediately sits in front of her dog bowl. She hasn’t barked, or said anything verbally, but she might as well have said “OK – you fed everyone else, now it’s my turn. And don’t even think about making your coffee before feeding me.”

Tail wagging, Carmen’s ready to eat…

After a couple cups of coffee and small breakfast, it’s time to go back to the barn and let everyone out.

The cats go first, and I remind them to come back at dinner time, if they want to sleep in the tack room. Otherwise, they are on their own. I tell Stan to watch out for our other neighbor’s un-neutered male cat that sometimes comes slinking around the barn looking for a handout. Stan and he have a history, so I figure a word of caution can’t hurt. I also remind Stan doing a walk-about for a week or more in winter is probably not a smart thing to do, but he ignores me whenever I tell him this.

Ollie and Stan after breakfast on a recent morning

Finally, it’s time to put the horses out and I take a few flakes of hay to the nearby paddock. While in the hay area, I note that Momma Cat has already eaten most of her food, and disappeared back into the hay. I say hello again, and call “Here kitty, kitty, kitty…” a few times, but get no response

As i put Katy’s grazing muzzle on, I tell her I’m sorry she has to wear it, however, it’s for her own good, and as a pony, we don’t want her developing health issues from overeating. After taking her out, I return for Stella, who has waited patiently. Leading her to the paddock, I usually just tell her to enjoy the day, and remind her not to pick on Katy.

Katie (in the grazing muzzle) and Stella

With that, it’s back to the house, and the rest of my day.

The thing is, I think Dr Dolittle had it slightly wrong when he said “Oh, if I could talk to the animals, just imagine it …” Talking “to” the Animals is easy. I mean, I do it every morning. It’s talking “with” the animals that is harder. While “Talking to” and “Talking with” are often used interchangeably, they aren’t quite the same, are they? “Talking with” implies a conversation between two or more. “Talking to” can imply a one way, or one sided conversation, or perhaps even a lecture.

I guess it’s not that different from people in that regard. Talking to people is easy. Talking with people is what’s hard, and these days, with the fences everyone puts up, getting harder. We all know people that are great talking to, or at you, but maybe aren’t so good at the listening and understanding part.

Upon further consideration, I think it is easier to communicate with the animals. I may do most of the verbal talking, but the interchange and understanding that goes back and forth is pretty good, at least in comparison to some people I know.

Addendum:

⁃ While I do the morning feeding at the barn, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Cathy does 90% of the animal care on the farm. Afternoon feedings, stall cleanings, horse healthcare and a myriad of other horse and animal maintenance chores are all under Cath’s purview. While I can’t say whether she talks more or less than I do with them, her understanding of their wants and needs is infinitely greater than mine.

⁃ Carmen is the smartest dog we’ve ever had and a GREAT communicator. Here’s a blog she wrote about a year ago: My name is Carmen. I’m about 44 years old now, and in my prime. Some guy named Shakespeare once said every “dog will have his day.” I think every day is my day, and I […] Continue at: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2021/04/07/whosagooddog-carmen/