Storms

Storms.  My dogs hate them.  I should have known something was coming when Laina was pacing with a manic sense of anxiety.  Pacing and panting....panting and pacing.  It was enough to drive me crazy!

The current map...most of the storms have passed...but not all.

I know of some dogs that have such anxiety and stress when it comes to severe weather they need a tranquilizer.  My aunt had such a dog.  They would bring him in from outside, and put him in my uncle's office.  Well, one time he had not received the tranquilizer and destroyed the office as only a large dog could.  They watched the weather report more closely after that one.
Each dog reacts in his/her own way.  Some don't react at all; but I think it is an innate, natural, survival instinct, deep within the canine history.
When Junah was with us, he would all of a sudden disappear, and hide upstairs, at the end of the hall.  Odd, right?  Well, with the doors closed up there, it was completely dark, offering a mock sense of protection.  Now, he would not stay there exclusively.  If I happen to go into another room, you can bet he was charging in behind me...he wasn't going to be left alone for anything!
Now, the Bartman.  Well, he is just completely under my feet.  Sometimes I like to play with him, and randomly move around the house just to see if he will follow (he always does).  Then, when he lies down, I move again.  A little mean, a little amusing, but no harm is done.  It can be considered part of the walk he would have gone on if it wasn't storming out.  His favorite place to lie is under my feet when I'm at the computer.  I think the desk offers a sense of additional protection (and this is where he is currently located as I type).
Laina.  Well...she doesn't hide like her brothers.  Maybe she's tougher.  Maybe she doesn't rely on my presence for her sense of security as they did/do.  Who knows?  But, she is the only one who is bark after EVERY SINGLE BOOM from the thunder.  Yes, I mean EVERY one!  As if to say, "Bring it on!"  Where Bart looks at me and moves closer then lightning flashes, Laina prepares to bark...loudly.  Great Dane barks are more like echoes of the thunder itself in their "BOOMS!"  Laina does pace, although that is short-lived.  The barking is not.
So, I had a hider.  Now I continue to have a follower and a barker/boomer.
And, to think, I STILL love storms...

Laina implying, 'Why, yes, I am about to bark.'

Junah feeling safe with his papa.

Bart- "You are not getting out of here without me on your heels.  So, don't even think about moving."

Running Partners

Running.
Now, I'm not the fastest, nor best runner in the world, but...I try.  After graduating college, with everyone going his or her separate ways- starting families, etc.- it was difficult to find participants to partake in "team" sports: basketball, volleyball, etc.
Enter running.
The one, simple-seeming sport that I could do on my own, outside, was run.
I saw a cross-country team-member at the school I teach at wearing one of her team shirts the other day.  On the back it stated: "Your team's punishment is my team's sport."  How true!  Growing up I played many different sports, and all of them required conditioning, which meant running.  Growing up, I despised this running...hated it with a passion!  I would dread it.  My fear, anxiety, and apprehension about running got to the point that I was a bundle of nerves before practices.  Practices gave me more butterflies than games.
In college there was a required course for all freshmen titled: Health Dynamics, which included one day in the classroom, and three days of activity each week.  Most of the activities included running several miles.  Now, mind you, I am not a runner.  I trotted and trudged my way through the miles, refusing to stop (as was my competitive nature) until I was finished with the required distance.  This class taught me that, if I kept a reasonable steady pace, then I could complete any distance.  Interesting, I thought.
My senior year of college I was at my uncle and aunt's house.  My uncle was training for his first marathon, and encouraged me to do the same.  Yeah, right, I thought.  But, to him I replied, "Maybe...someday."  At that point, it was a challenge.  And as many challenges do, it went directly to my bucket list.

My uncle kept us updated on his progress, and I realized, through his training plan (for non-runners) I could do this.  In fact, a few years later, I did.  I've run the 2005 Chicago Marathon, a half marathon in 2011, and everything from a 5K to a 15K and in between.

Before the Hot Chocolate 15 K in Chicago

Park2Park Half Marathon 2011

Before the 2005 Chicago Marathon!

What does all of this have to do with dogs?  Well, my consistent running partners over the years have been my dogs.  Now, each dog definitely has its strengths.  Junah's was running.  Junah was my favorite running buddy (sorry to anyone who has run with me, but it's true).  Often I would rather run solo than with a human being.  I hated holding "real" runners back; and I'm always afraid of that.  Junah often ran with me.  We'd go 2 miles, 3 miles, all the way up to seven miles.  I already mentioned a little of the seven mile trek, but I'll just mention that Junah never waivered, never slowed; he kept his pace, glancing up at me for affirmation that he was doing "good."  Every twenty seconds or so I would gasp out, "Good boy, Junah.  Keep going."  Trot, trot, trot, and on we went.  Junah was my protector on runs (who is going to mess with 150lb Great Dane and his momma?), but he loved the quality time with momma as much as I did.  We had run in the dark, in the light, dawn, and dusk.  I believe at night was our favorite...cool, refreshing, and only our footsteps could be heard piercing the silence.  Now, Junah never ran like a dog; he trotted, or galloped.  He really moved like a horse.  It was amazing watching him, but it was energy efficient.  One of the toughest parts of watching him age was noticing when he slowed down.  I remember his last run as if it were yesterday.  It was a two-miler.  We were turning at the one mile mark, and he slowed down.  I walked with him for a little bit before he picked up his pace again...It's the little things you notice, and it's the little things, like running with him, that I really miss.

Junah galloping <3

Bart, well, Bart is a plowhorse.  He plows ahead, moving as a dog should.  He maintains a constant pace, never looking up or back...onward! is his way.  While Junah could go as far as I asked him, Bart was another personality entirely.  When he was tired, that was it.  We were out for a 3 1/2 mile jaunt.  It was warm outside, I'll admit that part.  Junah was off with his "pappa" somewhere, and I felt bad that Bart was alone in the house, and that I always ran with Junah. So, I took him.  I mean, he was excited when I had asked him if he wanted to go for a run.  However, about 2 1/2 miles into it, Bart stopped, and lay down on the side of the road.  There was no moving him. I sat with him as cars went by.  Eventually, we walked to my grandparents' house, where I put him in the backyard; then I proceeded to run home and take the car to get him.  Needless to say, Bart has never run more than 3 miles.  He is not built for it.  He is a Golden/Chow mix, and built for power, not distance.  I love my dogs for their strengths, and their weaknesses.

Bart and Laina stretching their legs

So, what do you do when you have two dogs, it's a beautiful day outside, and you need exercise?  You take them both for a run.  Now, when I take both of my dogs, I do it as much for them as for myself.  I know I am not going for time.  I know I will have to stop and pick up droppings caused by the movement of their insides.  But, it's fun- really, it is.  One time in particular I was going three miles with Junah and Bart.  In the area near my home, there are for sale signs that have a fake dog looking over the top of them.  I never really paid much attention to them, other than thinking that they were cute. To understand this story, it is important to know that Bart sometimes even barks at shadows if he's uncertain of them.  Anyway, we were trotting down a road, when Bart suddenly screeches to a halt, and runs behind me growling.  I look up, slightly peeved at my psycho dog, and see that he is freaked out by the realty sign.  I start to chuckle.
"Barty, it's okay.  See?  It's not a real dog."
Yeah, he wasn't buying it.  So, we kept going forward (Junah had no clue why we had paused in the middle of our fun run); Bart glaring back at the "dog" the whole time.
Well, this was an out and back run, so what did we have to pass again?  Yup, that lovely sign..  Luckily, Junah was on the dog picture side of me that time.  Bart still slowed, scowled, and grumbled as we went past.  However, no abrupt stopping (his brother must have provided the appropriate amount of safety and security for him).
Every time I remember this, I smile to myself, and laugh and my goofy dogs.
Now, Junah is gone.  Bart is not a great runner.  But, I still want to run.  Here comes Laina.
If Junah moved like a horse, and Bart like a dog, Laina moves like a predator.  You can see it in her walk, as if she is a lioness on the prowl.  Laina is very agile and quick, but not as "in tune" with my moments as the other dogs are/were.  Laina is my new running partner, and has run up to five miles.  She loves it, but is slightly between Junah and Bart with regards to her ability to run distances.  When she tired, she does not stop, but slows waaayyyyy down.  However, she is good to go if she is in the mood.  Laina's biggest issue is her strong desire to please.  She tries to anticipate my movements, rather than react.  This has lead to a scraped and scarred knee, and a few meals of dirt on my part.  Oh well, she'll run. 
A few days ago I ran with Laina and Bart.  It went okay, but I realized that we are all a little out of shape from the frigid winter.  Bart improved in only having to walk, not stop completely when he was tired, so that is a plus.  It is a start anyway.
Running provides me a release that is difficult to get many places.  The adrenaline gives me a "high" that lasts all day.  I love when I can share this with the pooches as well.  Nothing like a (runner's) high momma, and her "high" and tired pooches to make everyone happy.
We can't wait until the weather warms up for more jaunts outside.

The Third (Fourth?) Musketeer: Laina!

Laina circa Fall 2012

Laina was somewhat of a surprise.  At the time I was living in Arizona, teaching and playing with my two dogs (Junah and Bart).  We made a great little pack unto ourselves- the three musketeers. Junah, Bart, and I lived in complete harmony.  We understood ourselves individually, and as a unit.
Now, enter Laina.
A friend and co-worker of mine asked if I was interested in taking/having his dog.  She was a Great Dane he told me. Instantly my ears perked up.  If I recall accurately, I believe I inquired as to why.  The brief explanation is that he and his ex were splitting up, the ex didn't want her, and he could not have her in his current living situation.  He told me that if I couldn't take her, then they were going to send her to a rescue in California.
Well, anyone who knows me knows that I couldn't have that!
"Sure, I'll take her!" I said.  Granted, this was spring, and I would be moving back to Michigan in a month or so...
"Okay," he replied with a smile, "that is great!  I know you would give her a great home and that I can trust you!" (It's nice being the type of person that people can trust, with undying faith, to take care of their animals.)
It was then decided that he would come over with Laina and she would meet the clan, and the drop-off would occur.
When they came to my apartment the following weekend, Junah and Bart greeted her as properly as any dogs could treat another canine guest: sniffing and smelling all around.  Then, they settled down.  Laina was excited to be in a new place, and was just "hanging out."  Then, my co-worker (who will remain nameless unless he says I can use his name) got up, said good-bye, and left.  If I could then read Laina's mind at that moment, it would go something like this: "Wait!  Where did he go?  Over here?  Over here?  No, maybe I missed him over here?  Maybe in this window? Where is he?  Let's try here again!..."  This dialogue would have occurred as she was bounding from one window, to another, to the door, and back again.
Once she realized that she may have to survive with this new pack, she quickly tried to establish dominance over Bart (as not to be the bottom of the order).  That, needless to say, didn't go great with myself or the two other founding members of the group.  I believe that moment helped even further to solidify Junah and Bart's relationship as a team.  They were kind, but firmly let her know that the antics she was trying to display toward Bart were not going to be put up with.  I got involved when I needed to, but mostly, I just sat back and watched this interesting, age old, process develop: the inclusion of another into an already defined pack.

I love my posse!

 My co-worker/friend came over several times before we moved to see Laina and the other pooches in her new family.  Below is a picture of him swimming with Laina and Bart one last time in Saguaro Lake before we moved (as usual, Junah was with his mama, who was taking the photo).

Laina has immersed herself into our clan, and is a very sweet, loving, and silly dog most of the time.
But, you always have to watch out for her licker! She is definitely a repeat offender!

All-in-all it has worked out great.  Junah and Bart remained best buds until Junah's recent passing, but they knew Laina was part of the mix- just not a part of their "boys' club." This didn't concern Laina in the least- she became a momma's girl.  Now if only I could go to the bathroom solo once in awhile!

We definitely are a pack now, for better or worse.  The four musketeers were created that original day (back in Spring of 2009)- us against the world!  "All for one, one for all!"

Our pack!

Bart and Laina

Out on a walk...no one would mess with The Four Musketeers!

It's Fuzzy's Turn- Meet Junah's Thunder Buddy, Bart!

Bart was somewhat of a surprise.

He was originally supposed to be a gift for my mom.  Junah was 2 1/2 years old, and it had been almost a year since my mom (and the rest of us) had lost our family dog- Hoopster.  As an animal lover, I felt that my mom needed another dog, that her time of mourning had passed.  So, I approached the topic one day.
"So, Mom, if Carly (my sister) and I were to happen to go to the animal shelter, and happen to find a dog that gets along with Junah, can we get him for you?"
"If the dog gets along with Junah...and is not a Pit Bull or Rottweiler."
Now...I love all dogs, including Rotties and Pitties, but I knew that if I brought one of those home, it wouldn't last the night.  So, I decided to honor her wishes.
As it happened, it was November 2, 2004- Election Day.  Carly and I were to meet up at our voting location.  Our precinct is huge, and waiting has always been a pain in our sides.  As least with each other it wouldn't be so bad.
We had planned to go to the shelter right after voting.  We were excitedly chatting about what we were going to look at- and if you know us, we rarely, if ever talk this way with each other, both looking down at "giddiness" when it is outwardly displayed in others.  We just couldn't help ourselves.
After we left the elementary where we were registered to vote, Carly followed me back to the house.  There we hooked a leash on Junah, and all piled into my Chevy Blazer.  Junah was just plain ecstatic to be "going for a car ride."   I rolled the back windows down, and Junah was content drinking the air as we drove down the rode. While he was in elation, it never occurred to him that his life was about to be flipped upside down, not necessarily for the worse.
As we turned into the stone lot downtown, we quickly swung into an unmarked parking spot (leaving the windows cracked so Junah could get fresh air, but not enough that he could think of following us).  My heart was racing inside my chest in anticipation as the gravel crunched under our feet.  As I pulled open the yellow front door, the smell of a mixture of cleaning products and animals who couldn't hold their business swirled to meet my nostrils.  Carly smelled it too, as she looked at me and scrunched up her face.  We asked if we could go back and look at the dogs (already knowing the way), and were met with a yes.
"I'll go this way; you go that way," I instructed my sister.  "Then we can meet back up and figure which ones we want to take out into the yard to play with Junah."
Well, that was the plan.  Carly had a different idea.
I was going to give each dog some attention in the whole place, no matter what the breed.  Not necessarily for consideration to take home, but to show each one some love and attention, all the while keeping tabs on which ones my mom might be okay with.  I had reached two dogs when Carly declared that she found the one she wanted.  I looked over at an adorable, fluffy, yellow dog.  My initial instinct was no.  This dog was too cute, and would have no problem finding a home.  Sighing, I went over to its cage.
"Golden Retriever Mix," I read aloud.  I looked back at Carly.
She responded, "Mom would love this dog.  Let's just let it meet Junah."
I looked with regret at all the other dogs that weren't necessarily as cute as this one looking at me.  With a heavy heart I said simply, "Okay."
We asked the worker to take the dog out into the play area; which was very nice and green, an idyllic place for dogs to play.  Then I inquired as to exactly how to bring Junah back.
I received my answer, and went to the car to collect a very excited pooch.  Who wouldn't be thrilled with all those dog and cat smells wafting through the air?  Junah practically dragged me the whole way in eagerness.
When he reached the yard, and Bart reached the yard, I wasn't sure what to expect.  I tried to prepare myself to have to break up a dogfight or a standoff.  I knew Junah, but I didn't really know this "yellow" dog.  But, I needn't have worried.  As many would say- the rest was history.  Junah and the soon-to-be Bart hit it off.  They played and played, completely content.  The answer was obvious.  I still felt bad about the other dogs we left there that day, but we brought home the perfect compliment to Junah.
Bart is the most easy-going dog I've ever met, and is full of love.
Bringing home the "about a year old" yellow dog has made all of our lives better, and gave Junah a "Thunder Buddy" for life ("TED" reference, for those of you who haven't seen the movie).
Great choice, Carly!

My reflection shortly after losing Junah on March 4, 2013

Junah using Bart as a pillow...typical.

My Junah...Loyalty and Love

Is there a way to gracefully lose a pet?  Is there a graceful way to die?  Is it called dignity instead?  All of these questions pelted my brain as I was faced with the ultimate decision for a pet owner: when to euthanize.

I’ve heard everything from: “He will tell you when it is time” to “This is your ultimate test of loyalty and love.”  And, while I tend to hope for truth in the second (because he was telling me nothing, as his top/front half was fine), I am still at a loss.

If I am honest with myself, this day had been in the making for well over ten years.  Junah, my beautiful, beloved Great Dane, would have been eleven on March 27, 2013.  My family tried to warn my significant others over the years that if they were around when he passed, that I might not recover fully.  We all knew.  Junah is the only dog I got as a puppy; he bonded with me almost from the first moment we met, and remained that way until the last beat of his heart.  Our loyalty to each other was unparalleled.  He moved different places with me while I tried to “find myself.”  We went across the United States (from Michigan to Arizona), and back again.  While training for a marathon, he was my running buddy in the wee hours of the morning (seven miles was the most he put in, as it was usually light by that time-who needs mace when you have a Great Dane?).  He’d been to most of my friends’ homes, my places of employment, dog festivals, dog parks, hiking trails; you name it, he was there. 

Junah was the type of dog, who when going for a walk, came close to causing numerous car accidents because of gawkers.  While not the tallest Great Dane in the world, he was regal and stunning in stature.  I was proud to be his human momma.  If I am truly reflective, a lot of what I have done in the past ten years has been for Junah.  I would not move to a place not Great Dane friendly.  I would not go places he wasn’t allowed.  I hurried home to be with him (and my other dogs) instead of going out with friends or co-workers.  And…I don’t regret a moment of it.  People say that they saw the love and loyalty between us when they saw us together- in person or in pictures.  I trusted him completely; and I always felt safe with him around. 

The last four nights his heart beat, I slept on the floor next to him.  Due to nerve damage, he could no longer use his back end.  And, even with constant flipping to prevent pressure sores, he still got them.  It was the sores that finally made the decision for me.  I tried to find a wheelchair for him.  Money, when it came to Junah, was no object- just as it had not been when I paid $5000 for his surgery after his stomach bloated and he got contortion.  However, the sores beat me to it.  Once the bone was exposed there was nothing I could do…and it happened so fast.

My gentle giant left this world with his head in my lap, and surrounded by seven of his favorite humans, and his favorite “thunder buddy” of a dog brother.  I cannot promote home euthanasia enough, as I do believe that Junah passed peacefully, with dignity, and love. 

His ashes arrive this week, and part of them will be placed in a necklace for me to wear.  Not only will his memories travel with me everywhere I go, but part of his body as well.

I love and miss you, Junah Miller.  Rest in Peace my Gentle Giant…until we meet again. March 27, 2002- March 4, 2013

My best friend in his last days...

We love car rides!

Mom, are you getting off the computer soon?

Junah left, Laina right...7+ foot couch.

The opening blog...how it all began: Junah.

To begin it would seem fair to discuss the influence for this blog before anything else.  As such, it is simple: my dogs.  By this I mean the dogs that have shaped my life.  The dogs who have been my anchor and light.  Two Great Danes, and one Golden/Chow mix: Junah, Laina, and Bart.
It all began with Junah.  From a young age I heard my dad talking about wanting a Great Dane one day.  As an impressionable child who looked up to her father, this stuck; and I, too, desired a Great Dane.  So, within a month of obtaining my BA in college and moving home, I found an ad for Great Dane puppies in a local newspaper.  I made the call, and went down to check them out.  All the way down I was nervous.  The location was forty-five minutes from home, so there were plenty of thoughts swirling around in my head- excited ones, nervous ones, and all the ones in between.  Could I really take care of a dog?  What would my family think?  And since I was living with my dad, would he kill me for bringing a dog home?  None of these concerns mattered though; my excitement was enough to sweep them all to the back of my mind.  I arrived at the home where the puppies were located and fell in love.  I chose one pup, but, as they were only five weeks at the time, I still had to wait to bring him home.  I put down the deposit, then left with a time to come back and see the pooch.
On the next visit I got a chance to get three of the black males (including the one I chose) out and play with them.  They were six weeks now, and growing like weeds.  The pup I originally picked out was very much involved and active in playing with one of his brothers.  Of the trio outside, one of the other pups was more independent. He came over to check me out, then roamed the area.  He was a bit calmer; but, content just the same.  I instantly changed my mind.  This dog had part of my soul; he was so much like me!
"If no one has chosen that one, I'd like to change my mind," I informed the owner.
It was no problem.  So, as such, I now had laid claim to a different puppy, and released the other.
The final trip I took with my sister.  I had asked her to come along, so that the puppy wouldn't be scared and solo in the back seat on the trip home. She was dumbfounded when we pulled in.  Twenty or so adult Great Danes all on the same property- it definitely was a sight to beheld.  The seller took the remainder of my payment, and led up over to the puppies.  It was a beautiful May day, and the puppies were let out to play in their own area.  This time, seven of the original eleven from the litter were roaming around.  They were so cute, and I was so excited.  My heart opened and lit up all at the same time.  I had discussed the two names I was bouncing between with my sister: Junah and Journey.  I had mentioned that I would love for my first son to be names Junah; however, my sister said, "Journey sounds like a girl's name.  And, as for Junah, don't do that to your son."  So, I had a name for my new pooch.  Junah it was.
There was a catch though.  I worked second shift at the time.  My dad worked first.  I looked at my sister on the way home.  "You HAVE to be there when Dad gets home to explain Junah."
"Relax," she dismissed, "I will be, don't worry."
"No, you really HAVE to be.  Dad will freak."
"I will," she assured me.
Well, years later I found out what really happened while I was at work that day.
My dad came home and saw no one and nothing in the house.  He did, however, see a food and water dish meant for a dog sitting in the kitchen, and several dog toys around the house.  His interest had been peaked, but he saw no dog.  Eventually my sister arrived (an hour or two later), and they had to search the house.  As they walked around, they came to look at the pile of blankets at the bottom of the stairs.  There, curled up sawing logs, was my new, sweet, relaxed puppy.  My dad fell in love, as I had.  His first question though (as he immediately just saw a black puppy with floppy years and a short coat) was, "What breed is it?"
My sister had no qualms about mentioning the breed, "Great Dane."  All I can say is that I am lucky that he had always wanted one.  Otherwise, a giant breed in his house would never have happened.
Junah touches all the lives his came into contact with. People would smile when he trotted down the road, crane their necks when they drove by, and love on him when he at in their laps.  It all started with Junah, and his eternal love will make it all continue.