Every Day was a Gift

Sending Reacher across the Rainbow Bridge nearly three years ago was tough. And sending Vega on her way last Friday wasn't any easier. 

The three of us were walking partners, logging hundreds of miles along the sidewalks, in parks, and down the trails for years. We walked every day. Sometimes more than that. We all loved it. We also trained together and played together. 

I was right by Vega's side when she had a litter of eight puppies on September 28, 2012. And I sat by her side, encouraging her to hang in there and nurse those babies when it was clear she'd rather get up and walk away. 

She had several health concerns over the years including perianal fistula and a low platelet count. She took Cyclosporine for years to keep the perianal fistula at bay while the treatment for low platelets was a steady dose of prednisone. The prednisone almost killed her. It made her listless, affected her walking and ability to go up and down the steps. She stumbled down the deck steps once, skinning her snout. Then she also developed a skin infection. And a UTI. 

It was hard to watch her decline, so I made an in-home appointment for a vet who performs euthanasia in people's homes. I just wanted to have a discussion and prepare myself before I made a decision whether or not it was time.

Ultimately, I told my vet we had to get her off the prednisone and take a chance with low platelets. She bounced back from the brink of death by prednisone slowly but surely. And several months later we were walking the neighborhood again. That was five years ago. 

The platelet crisis was five years ago when Vega was 10. Since the average lifespan for a GSD is 10-12 years, I was grateful she made it. As the years went by, she slowed down. But by 12, still we walked. Just not as fast. Or as far. 

Yes, she had arthritis and began to lose muscle. But we were happy here at home even on days when she wasn't up for much of a walk. Vega, and the clock, kept ticking. 

She began walking like an old lady. But still barked and chased deer along the fence line hop-along style. She went up and down the stairs with effort, but on her own. She was able to lie down and get up, also on her own.

I was sure Vega would reach her 15th birthday, November 1, 2025, no problem. I was wrong. 

Last Friday started out as usual. Breakfast, outside, back in for a nap. At 11:30am I heard the problem before I saw it. Vega was struggling to get up off her bed. She couldn't get her footing. She couldn't remain standing even when I helped. Her legs were slipping out from under her in four different directions. She was floundering, panting hard. Her tongue was pale. 

It was time to head to the vet. After an exam, the vet said she likely had a stroke. This wasn't the same as the prednisone days. There was no bouncing back from this. So, I scratched her ears and stroked her side, as she headed across the Rainbow Bridge. I like to think she and Reacher are chasing each other around doggie heaven like they used to do in their younger days.

Vega didn't quite make it to her 15th birthday. But every day past age 10 was a gift. 

I Smell a Rat

More accurately, it's Blitz who smells a rat. He and I are training for and competing in a dog sport called barn hunt. Despite the name, no barn is required. But the dog is definitely on the hunt for a rat. 

It's called barn hunt because the competition takes place in a barn-like setting, complete with a good supply of hay bales with one or more rats hidden safely among them. 

That's right. The rats are completely safe. They aren't scurrying around with a barking, snarling dog and in hot pursuit. The furry little rodents are housed inside a sturdy tube with plenty of holes so they can breathe. Think of it as a large, heavy-duty PVC-type pipe. The rat tubes are hidden among the hay. 

It's the dog's job to sniff out the rats and alert the owner when one is found. The dog might bark, paw at the hay and uncover the tube, pick the tube up in its mouth, or any other signal that says, "I found it!" 

I could go on. But you've got the general idea.

Blitz is a very enthusiastic ratter. Standard Schnauzers were originally bred as all-purpose farm dogs used for ratting and other jobs. So, it's no surprise he's in his element. 

At this point, obedience and rally don't seem to be his forte. But that's okay. As one dog trainer told me, the important thing is to have fun with your dog. And right now, for Blitz and I, barn hunt is where the fun is! 

Accentuate the Positive

I had lots of plans for this puppy. But mostly I was looking forward to taking Blitz on long walks in the neighborhood, shopping at dog-friendly stores, and enjoying a meal at restaurants with outdoor dining. In other words, I was looking forward to taking Blitz with me wherever dogs are allowed to go. As it turns out, Blitz is, what professionals in the dog world call leash reactive. In other words, he totally loses his sh*# when he sees another dog when we're out and about. 

We're working on it. Hard. And we are making progress. I no longer dread taking him on a walk, but I am still hyperaware of our surroundings and prepared to use all the strategies I've learned to keep Blitz under threshold when we see another dog heading our way. 

If I'm honest, not being able to walk him where and when I want is a huge disappointment. I'm hoping with continued training things won't always be this way. 

In the meantime, I've decided to accentuate the positive. Blitz hasn't chewed up one shoe and he doesn't eat socks. He doesn't sneak off when my back's turned and get into mischief. He doesn't mind the rain. Or a bath. He's good with my grandkids. He hasn't even eaten one of their toys. He's a perfect passenger in the car. Even on road trips. And he settles down for the evening not long after dinner. When it's time for bed, he's happy to get in his crate and sleep through the night. 

Plus, Blitz is a very happy go lucky guy. He puts a smile on my face every day. And often makes me laugh. Would I like a better walking buddy? Yes. But nobody's perfect. 

Showering My New Puppy with Love and Other Stuff

When I found out I was definitely getting a puppy from my chosen breeder's fall litter, I talked about my soon-to-be puppy to anyone who would listen. A good friend suggested she throw me a puppy shower. "Wow, thanks," I replied, "But I've been a dog owner for so long I already have everything I need." 

It was true, I did have everything I needed, but I soon realized it just wasn't going to be good enough for the newest member of my family.   

Yes, I had a dog crate that would be be serviceable. It even had a divider so the space could be adjusted as the puppy grew. But instead, I decided I needed a just-the-right-size crate when my boy came home. I also realized that a half cup of puppy chow would look so lonely in the food bowl I had from my previous Boxers that I had to have a smaller one. Of course, it came with a matching water dish. And the bowls were even on an elevated stand to provide an ergonomically correct eating position. Definitely a plus. Only the best for my puppy!  

Of course I already had a collar, a hand-me-down saved after my last puppy outgrew it years ago. But it was brown leather and my black Standard Schnauzer was the green collar pup of the litter. Naturally, nothing but a new green collar would do. 

Add to all of the above, must-have stuffies and chew toys, balls and pint-sized bones. I would need soft training treats and specially formulated puppy food. The breeder trained the litter to use puppy pads, so I added those to my list. And wouldn't my little guy love a set of fleece puppy blankets in a paw print for his new crate? Yes!! 

I may have turned down a puppy shower, but a deluge of  puppy essentials was still headed my way. 

It's the Little Things

It's been more than a year since Reacher crossed the Rainbow Bridge. And there are still so many things that remind me of him. 

There are the obvious signs like his leash and collar still hanging by the deck door. And pictures of him that pop up as memories on my phone or on Facebook. There's his name in black marker I see on the bottom of  a food dish, if that's the one I happen to be using for Vega that day. I know some of his hair must still be woven into a carpet, upholstery, or blanket.  

But there are invisible reminders, too. The other day, I spotted one of the neighborhood deer lying in the exact spot Reacher would post himself in the front yard as he surveyed the action across the cross street or at the bottom of our hill. And every time I see my neighbor in his backyard, I remember the way Reacher used to rush to the fence announcing his presence loud and clear in hopes of a treat tossed his way. And tonight when I returned home, the belongings in my work portfoilio weren't strewn across the hallway even though I left the closet door open. That was Reacher's MO. 

The Boxer I saw clowning at the dog park had all the markings and fun-loving attitude as my boy. I knew it wasn't Reacher, but it looked so much like him in his younger days.  

Reacher's no longer here. And he's not coming back. But I still feel his presence in the little things almost every day. 

A Long Way Home

If someone had told me they traveled across the country to pick up a puppy, I'd have thought they were nuts. But last year, I was that person. 

Before traveling from one coast to the other, the longest trip I had ever made to pick up a puppy was about 90 minutes. This puppy pick-up was a two-day affair that involved a five-hour cross-country plane ride, an hour on a shuttle bus, and another 30 minutes in the car. Then, less than 24 hours later, i repeated that same trip -- in reverse, with said puppy in tow. 

I came armed with an airline-approved crate that could be placed under the seat in front of me, a couple of puppy toys, a collapsible water dish, some puppy pads, and a few tips from a travel blogger who often brought her small dog with her on vacation. I told myself if things didn't go well, and by that, I mean if the puppy yipped or whined nonstop on the shuttle, in the airport, and/or on the plane, it was likely I would never see any of the other travelers ever again. Whew!

Fortunately, things went better than anticipated. To my fellow travelers, I apologized in advance for any possible disturbance caused by my nine-week-old puppy. Most told me not to worry about it. After all, they said, "He's just a baby." Nonetheless, I was grateful the fur baby didn't press our luck too far. 

In fact, he performed like a champ for most of the adventure. The travel blogger had advised skipping any designated doggie potty areas at the airport and instead, taking the pup into the handicap stall in the restroom, placing a puppy pad on the floor, and having the dog or puppy do his business on that. The breeder had used puppy pads in her kennel area, so I had my fingers crossed my puppy would know what was expected when I took him out of the carrier and put him on the designated spot. Surprisingly, success! 

He slept in his carrier on the entire flight home! And even better, he didn't have an accident. 

After a six-month search for just the right puppy, weeks of trip planning, and a long two days of travel, we finally arrived at our home sweet home!  

The Search is On

Once I decided a Standard Schnauzer was the breed for me, selecting the right breeder was the logical next step. My search began last March and I soon found out finding a Standard Schnauzer that met everything on my wish list wasn't going to be easy. 

Standard Schnauzers come in two colors - pepper and salt (gray) or black. Some have docked tails and cropped ears. Others have natural tails, but cropped ears. And still others have natural ears and natural tails. The breed standard allows all of those combinations. After looking at lots of photos, I knew I wanted a black Standard Schnauzer with both a natural tail and natural ears. It turned out to be a rather tall order. 

Standard Schnauzers in general are not always easy to find since they are not bred in great numbers. In fact, during my research I found there are only about 500 new Standard Schnauzers registered with the AKC each year. In addition, black is not the most popular of the two colors. 

The SSCA breeders' list currently includes 59 breeders. Only 11 breed black, exclusively. I emailed the breeders closest to me and filled out numerous puppy applications. The best breeders don't breed often and they typically have a waiting list of interested people. It became obvious; I wouldn't be bringing home a puppy anytime soon.

In April, I found a black-only Standard Schnauzer breeder with a website that featured two Standard Schnauzers with natural ears and tails. Even though she was located on the other side of the country, I decided to reach out. At her invitation, I called her after submitting a puppy application.

She answered all of my questions and provided lots of good information -- including many things I hadn't thought to ask. I asked her to put me on her list. She planned to breed her female, Gypsy, that spring when she went into season. In the meantime, we continued to talk, as well as exchange text messages and emails. 

The wait was longer than anyone anticipated. As the weeks, and then months, ticked by, I considered a couple of other litters that had recently been born. However, the puppies’ tails had already been docked which happens just a couple of days after birth. Even though both of those breeders were also on the breeders' list and considerably closer, I wouldn't be getting a puppy with a natural tail. So, I continued to wait. 

Ultimately, the inevitable happened. Gypsy went into season and was bred in early July. Five black Standard Schnauzer puppies were born on September 4, 2023 (only four pictured in the photo below). And one of them would be mine!