Sick Dog

Started by gitano, July 25, 2017, 12:48:37 PM

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SmokeyJoe

That sounds like good news Paul. Fingers crossed this does remove all the symptoms.
12 years old ?! He could be mistaken for 12 months old in that first shot above!
Paws crossed :)
"What good fortune for governments that the people do not think".

"I would rather be somebody's shot of whiskey, than everybody's cup of tea."

"Give a small man power, and he'll show you how small he is."

Guns-Pencils.png

gitano

Thanks, SmokeyJoe. Tucker is definitely on the mend. However, not before another $1000 bill was spent. (The $625 mentioned above turned into $980 on the operating table.) Turned out that the tumor on the testicle had grown into the scrotum preventing 'simple' removal of the testicle. In the end, the entire scrotum had to be removed. We are waiting to see more x-rays in a month or so to see if the pros-tate has responded (shrunk) in response to the removal of the hormone stimulus. (That was one of the reasons for the neutering besides the tumored testicle.) If the pros-tate hasn't started to shrink, we'll have the testicle "sent out" for analysis ($280) to determine if the tumor was cancerous. According to the vet, pros-tate cancer is relatively "uncommon" in dogs. (Not as common as in men.)

He perked up almost immediately after the surgery. He has always had a certain bounce in his step. That bounce is back, and he is back to his kocky old self.

I appreciate all the well-wishes!

Paul
Be nicer than necessary.

SmokeyJoe

Just remembered to check back here, I still don't forum notifications which is annoying but must be a local problem as I am all subscribed. I assume everyone else gets em?
GREAT to hear his bounce is back. Hopefully for a long time to come.
"What good fortune for governments that the people do not think".

"I would rather be somebody's shot of whiskey, than everybody's cup of tea."

"Give a small man power, and he'll show you how small he is."

Guns-Pencils.png

gitano

Here's a little bit of fourth-hand 'information' about a local vet. (I heard it at the hair-dresser. ;) ) Apparently, a woman took her dog in because he has some obvious pain. The vet determined that the dog had a "bulging disc" in his spine. They performed surgery on his back. When the woman went in to pick the dog up, the bill was nine THOUSAND dollars! When she objected, pointing out that she didn't authorize a several of the services for which she was billed, she was told "You have to pay because we've already performed the procedures". Supposedly, she was charged $1000 per night the dog was in the vet's care.

Assuming this story is true, (it may not be), I would most certainly not have authorized the payment of the bill and gone straight to an attorney's office. (Incurring FURTHER costs!) Regardless of whether the asserted cost figures are accurate or not, the truth IS that this kind of behavior is NOT uncommon. One of the reasons I was willing to go along with the vet's recommendations for Tucker was that at every step, they said: "Here is what your options are. Here is how much each option will cost. Here is how we can proceed in a step-wise fashion and here is the information we expect to get from each procedure." They always PRECEDED any action with an explanation of "why" and "how much" and they always showed me what they were basing their recommendations on - x-rays, blood-work, urinalysis, etc. That's really, all I ask. It probably should be added that they were a little leery of me because I understood their jargon and used 'terms of art' that illustrated that I at least knew something about the biology of what was going on. Finally, at the point we were considering surgery, the vet fumbled around with "You use terms that suggest you have some medical training". That's not a question, but it was spoken as a question. To which, seeing that they were struggling with how to ask "What do you know?" I simply responded, "No. I have had no medical training." (By virtue of all the time I spent in law enforcement and around lawyers, I learned at least a little bit about LISTENING to what people say/ask. ;) ) Of course my simple "No" didn't answer the questions they were REALLY asking (What do you know and how do you know it?), so she pressed with some other vague, INDIRECT, question. Having recovered some of the 'high ground' one automatically loses when you walk in the door of a doctor's office, and based on the fact that they WERE actually being "good", I explained my training and experience. She sighed a little relief then 'explained' the nature of her inquiries. I have to admit that there was some pleasure is seeing THEM squirm a little for once. BUT... It bears repeating that I am very pleased with their service and considerate behavior.

Tucker is doing well. He has completed his antibiotic treatment and he got his stitches out on Monday. (No additional charge for that. :biggthumpup: ) By all appearances he is back 100% in terms of his health. We'll take him back in a month or so to see if the surgery and drugs caused the pros-tate to shrink. If not, we'll send the testicle out for biopsy.

Paul
Be nicer than necessary.

SmokeyJoe

Yippee, forum notification working :)

Last minute edit - "Put another log on please"

ha ha, great post Paul and so pleased to hear he is back to his usual ways. I can only wish I found it hard to believe that story. I have very little doubt that it is true, but even if it's not true, there are enough true stories very similar that it may as well be. It serves its purpose whether it's fact or fable, it does happen, and usually to women who look like they might have a bit of cash, or more often like they have a man behind them who won't question the bill. If that's not politically incorrect to say, which of course it is so it felt twice as good. :D

its like tyres/exhaust places over here. They give entirely different service to men versus women, as they assume (rightly so in most cases) that a woman will "fall for" their lies quicker than a man will. I have witnessed it first hand, and a friend of mine (decent car mechanic) secretly filmed his car's test at a garage after telling his wife to take it in when he heard they were up to some tricks like this. He sat opposite in a cafe with a big zoom camcorder and gritted his teeth while filming them pouring oil over the four (brand new) shocks, shortly before shaking their head at the woman upon her return... "sorry luv, this is going to be expensive, your shocks are all on their last legs". At this point her husband ran across the road and knocked the grease monkey into the inspection pit, luckily not killing him but probably hoping to! My own mother has had the same at another branch of the same outfit (KwikFit). I see vets as being about 2mm higher on the moral scale than these types of car garages, and that's being generous!

I can tell very similar stories of vets over here. I have my own experiences without even relying on others (of which I know many, from close relatives and friends as well as strangers). I had a GSD which I got from a rural and very rough rescue kennels after he went to "death row", the Scottish police screwed him up during training (their words not mine, I couldn't see anything wrong with him) and then "backed" him (returned him to rescue from whence he came). Best dog I have ever owned and will ever own. Didn't lock the house in 8 years, kids as safe as houses but anyone else better watch out.

The day he died was one of the hardest days of my life which sounds weird to say out loud, it's only a dog after all, but he represented 100 other things which we came to take for granted (well almost). He was unwell for a few days when we were down here in Cornwall looking at properties 6 or 7 years ago. I had shot a rabbit for him which he enjoyed, and was worried it might be lead poisoning (pretty sure it wasn't now). So we came home and decided to go to the vets the next morning. When i got up, my wife told me I had better "go and see Troy, he seems to be waiting for you and he is acting really weird". I opened the back door of the house where there was an old brick porch (old farmhouse). He laid there after we went to bed every night for 8 years, rear end against the door, head facing the big bad world. He was a monster if anyone came knocking, except a few friends I carefully introduced him to (who he would even allow into the house when I wasn't there, he would lick them but eat anyone they brought with them, amazing dog). Of course, I left him nasty with the mother in law, mais bien sur :D. On this particular morning I opened the kitchen door out to the porch where he laid and was shocked to see him the other way around which he hadn't done once in his life. His back end towards the world and head against the door (which I opened). When I opened it I knew something was very very wrong and I dropped to my knees to stroke him. As I did that he was visibly trying with every ounce of energy to lift his head and greet me, but he couldn't even raise his head fully. I sat down and lifted his head onto my lap, he looked up at my face with what I can only describe as the most haunting look I have ever seen and it haunts me to this day. With that I knew he was not going to be getting up again. I gently stroked his head as he breathed heavily, slower and slower. He gave one tiny wag of his tail as I stroked him, then took one enormous lungful of air with his whole torso doubling in size, then breathed out with an exhale which seemed to last minutes instead of seconds, he nudged his nose deeper into my lap during that least breath and he didn't take another. Worst of all, he settled his head so his eyes were staring into mine with that last breath and I watched his eyes slowly change from being the eyes of my faithful best friend to being the eyes of a corpse. As horrible as it was, there was something weirdly pleasing that he actually chose to stare at me as he died, it took a deliberate effort and I felt extremely humbled by it.

(This is all just a few days after Troy was a sprightly, happy and playful dog chasing balls and strangers on bikes!).
I had one hand on his chest and could feel his heart, there was a weak pulse but it was fading. Sarah was stood looking down at all this and was obviously upset, I told her to call the kids to come and see him off, not sure why, I just felt it was right to show them what death looked like and also it felt wrong not to have everyone there as he died. The children all stood crying quietly. The little one (Billy) laid down on Troy cuddling him and asking why he wasn't moving, answered by the two older boys with "because he is dead" (no beating round the bush then!). For what seemed like minutes Billy just laid on him listening to his weakening heart beat as it slowed and then gave its very last pulse. Only in that instant did it dawn on all of us just how much a part of our lives this dog had been, and how that huge daily influence on us all had suddenly disappeared from our lives forever in a matter of a minute or two. All but our oldest child had never known a day of their lives without this dog being a large part of it, when my wife was feeding them as babies Troy would lay under her feet (the only time he ever laid under her feet instead of mine!)
Then the older boys set about making a cross ready to bury him in the garden, no idea why, the mutt never went to church but convention is a funny thing isn't it! They made some carvings with old bits of wood and laid them next to his cross. It was a horrible time for us all, but at the same time we felt so incredibly fortunate to have experienced such an animal. We never felt the same in that house after that and were glad to get out. None of the windows or doors could be locked, and we had never felt remotely bothered by that, until Troy died at least. Then we felt very exposed and alone. What an incredible experience owning that dog was.

I still miss that dog daily even now, we all do, despite having another awesome dog (not a great family dog though). To this day I am 100% convinced that he was standing his sentry until he knew the man of the house was up and about, to finish his shift on guard at that door. Either that or he just wanted to see me for his own comfort, but either way I am in no doubt there was some "waiting" involved and it wasn't just coincidence that he died within a minute or two of me opening that door, I was up 2 hours later than usual too as I had been in the office until about 4am. Also my wife had popped down a few times during the night in between sorting kids out (feeding) and said she wondered (only too late) why he was behaving so oddly, as she had seen he was not laid his usual way around, but he had responded to a stroke from her so she wasn't too concerned in her tired state, she was just checking he hadn't messed on the floor or been sick etc.

For years I tried to replace him, I had dog after dog after dog from rescue kennels and other places on trial, but I soon realised he was just irreplaceable and I stopped trying to do the impossible and find another creature as special as he was. I am sure this was borne out of the experience he had when I collected him which is another long story in itself but basically he was kennelled and nobody was allowed near him. When i travelled 8 hours on a train to collect him, I took a muzzle but refused to use it. Ended up in an argument about it and just marched into his kennel while the women from the rescue centre went white and ran for cover as if he was going to kill everyone. I told him to sit, he did (although he looked ready to bite me!). I slipped the collar on while he was still a bit baffled by my arrogance :D, turned and walked out with him behind me (sweating profusely I admit!) but he didn't get a chance to spot that!
I travelled 8 hours back on a train full of drunk football supporters, he was muzzled for that whole journey and launched at a few idiots who were bothering us. this started to cement the bond I think. When I got back home I slept in the shed with him. I sweated myself to sleep while he laid panting looking at my fleshy face sticking out of an old army sleeping bag, and somehow I fell asleep despite being worried I was going to lose an eye. Next thing I knew was waking up to find this huge warm furry head on my chest looking at my face. It did give me a fright for a second and I didn't move for a while, but slowly talked to him to check it was safe to move, and then got up and stroked him carefully. My mother in law turned up outside the shed with a cup of tea and some biscuits for me, and he nearly went through the wall to attack her. I knew I had a dog with good instincts at this point! From that moment on, we were bonded like glue and I do think that journey home and first night in the shed with him really had a lot to do with it. He had belonged to an old woman where he ran riot and had no leadership, basically turning wild. The police then took him and made him more wild, but couldn't handle him (correct translation for him not being "suitable", but without losing face). The rescue shelter kept him muzzled and pinned down by various people at all times, and the dog basically met his first reliable human (with any confidence to lead him instead of run away from him) and with that he was mine for ever. What I got back from that dog in return for that brief show of trust and confidence, (not counting the odd bunnywabbit or bowl of tripe) was like a king's ransom in comparison. Years of faithful service and unfailing loyalty. he responded to commands like lightning, even when he had a stray trespassing jogger's bouncy bits IN his jaws on our property once, JUST as he was about to bite down one word and he returned to my heel instantly, much to the delight of the now white as a sheet jogging/ipod wearing/townie gone off the beaten track never to do so again :D

I would go to the ends of the earth to have another dog like Troy. And I mean that quite literally. Our kids basically grew up with round the clock security. When I was away or out on duty at night I never had to worry about the family being at home alone, even when a certain group of Caravan Utilising Nomadic Travellers pitched up right on our front garden (well, within a few feet). A team of armed robbers they turned out to be too, Troy spent that whole night laid at the end of the garden watching and growling at them whenever they sent their kids to poke around and look over the garden wall for stuff they could snatch. I had 8 foot chain link up behind the wall, for public safety not ours! A few nights after that I woke at 3am to hear Troy going absolutely nuts at the end of the garden. I grabbed a torch, something else, and my long tracking line. I called him to me, clipped his collar on, and went round the long way to see what was there, I knew something was as he didn't bark unless he knew someone was about. When I rounded the corner there was a guy standing urinating up the garden wall in the bushes in full view of the kid's bedroom window (not something to do near me if you want to keep me amicable!). I told him to disappear and he gave me a drunken mouthful of threats and abuse. Troy was at head hight spitting saliva at him begging me to let him off and I so nearly did. Instead I walked the guy backwards and up the road away from the house. He did move, he didn't want to get bitten. But once he was about 30 yards away he made the mistake of shouting "I will come back when you're not around and poison that ***xx dog". That did it for me. Unclip. "Troy Down". Troy laid next to me waiting for the word! I told the guy to shut his mouth and disappear, last chance saloon. He grabbed a tree branch off the floor and ran towards me, throwing the branch down the road at Troy.

"GO"

With that Troy launched like a rocket and buried his head in the guy's jacket and no doubt torso too. The noise the guy made was semi-chilling and semi-comical. I had a brief smile, then called him off with one whistle, he left the guy and returned to my side. I watched with the torch for a minute to check he got up and he did, ran into the woods and away without any more threats. I walked home admiring this awesome dog, and had to get my .22 and get him a rabbit, I couldn't sleep by then anyway! this is just one account of how many times that dog proved to me that you can't put a monetary value on some things in life, especially where dogs are concerned. Utterly awesome creatures and this one was about the most awesome I am sure I will ever have the privilege of owning.

So.... we were talking about these pesky vets before my life story got in the way..... :D :D

(Well you did say something about a camp fire didn't you?!)

Troy had ear mites occasionally in summer. He would rub his ears a bit for a week or two, then it would subside and usually come back some time the next year, but not always. Nothing major, the signs were so small I doubt most people would even spot them, but I was aware of it and assumed he just got a brief gathering of mites whenever the climate got just right for them to breed in his kennel, he would scratch for a while, then it all disappeared. He wasn't "suffering" any more than I do when I have an itch I can't scratch. I took him to the vets about another issue, I can't even remember what it was now it was so minor but whatever it was, he had to be sedated for it (as he did for any encounter with a vet who wanted to touch him!). Maybe an X-ray to check hips or something, really can't remember. Anyway, I took him in and told the vet explicitly NOT to do ANYTHING without my prior consent, other than that which we had discussed. (I hadn't started recording all such conversations then, I do now). I went to collect him that afternoon, busy reception (peer pressure always helps people pay up, usually I should say!) and the receptionist showed me the bill. It was around £350 when I was quoted £190 beforehand. I told her there's no chance of me paying it, I put the £190 cash on the desk and told her to get my dog who was just about awake enough to walk, but not awake enough to hurt any receptionists! She said "you have to pay, what are you talking about, of course you have to pay". I said "oh yeah? what law creates that obligation on me then, if you care to educate me?".

Of course she had no idea, so I educated her instead. I told her its the law of Contract and it relates to PRIOR AGREED TERMS which both parties have discussed and accepted, hence formation of a contract. In this case, said contract was to the tune of a FIXED service for FIXED sum, of £190, which I had paid and therefore my contractual obligations were now complete and they were in breach of said contract for withholding my property from me (dogs in UK are lawful property, unlike cats). I further told her that the current offence she was conspiring to commit was a myriad of possibles covered under the definitions of Theft and Fraud, she could take her pick which one she liked most.
She turned a funny colour and ran off to get the "boss" as she called him. Uncomfortable coughs from other customers, a few tuts as they witnessed this horrible man who obviously "doesn't care" about his pooch if he is questioning vets fees. In comes the "boss" (just a vet with a more supercilious attitude than the other vets at the place, ergo "boss") in his white coat looking like Dr Doolittle. Long story short he told me they had treated him for ear mites, billed me for swabs and gloves and potions and lotions and and and... "the dog had to be treated, it was unfair not to"

I explained that "I am not paying it. It wasn't agreed to, It wasn't urgent or life saving, there was plenty of time to call me as agreed, it wasn't necessary and it certainly wasn't asked for, it is therefore NOT BILLABLE. You had my number to call but you didnt use that did you, oh no, I might have said NO!"

He tried the (with louder voice) approach of "well he was suffering and you don't want your animal to suffer do you?". I laughed for a second and then gave him a rather spicy piece of my mind, generally covering the emotional blackmail they can wield on their average unsuspecting victims of FRAUD and how it won't wash with me, only one person knows the needs of my dog and that's me, and if he has any concerns about that he can call the RSPCA to come and do an independent inspection which I will gladly welcome and doubtless pass with flying colours. (I knew the local RSPCA people, they brought dogs to me when they needed help!) I then asked him "I don't think he was suffering, in fact I know he wasn't suffering. But since you are such a kind-hearted man and hate to see animals who are, in YOUR opinion, suffering, you won't mind footing the bill yourself will you?  You know, being the mother theresa of animals that you are, assuming this isn't just a ruse to extort money from people which I am sure it can't possibly be with you being such a saintly animal lover...... Otherwise we can go to court and let a judge decide firstly if a contract exists between us, and secondly you can try proving to a court that the dog was suffering. Oh and in the mean time, if I don't take that dog now, he will fully wake up from his sedative very shortly and you will be begging me to get him out of here before he scares off some more of your victims, sorry, customers. It's up to you. I am ready for court if you are so give me my dog and then you can issue a court claim where we can discuss this properly, with evidence and without any undue time pressures on either of us. Hows about that then?

Vet: "Please wait there a moment. Maggy please give this man his receipt for his payment and I will just go and fetch his dog"

Me: "There's a good chap, you know it makes sense"

The looks I got from customers in there was like I had just murdered someone. Brits are famous for it, being the perfect customer. As a group, we don't complain, we don't question, we don't challenge, and we sure as hell don't like to be seen as unwilling to hand over money, that would be most uncharitable now wouldn't it! And the veterinary industry is one of many which has cottoned onto this and taken every possible advantage from it!

That was the third vet we can never visit again, according to my wife, although I would gladly have gone back especially owing to the fact they now knew not to waste time on defrauding me like they did everyone else!

These places (with obvious exceptions, goes without saying) are generally taking complete advantage of pet owners loving their pets. We have vets down here in this more rural area, and we can have the same treatment at two different vets, with 2 or 3 times difference in price. Why? Because one deals with FARM animals, the other deals with PET owners. So we go to the farm type where they simply don't "expect" to make so much profit from customers, and also because they are not practised at the emotional black mail because that dribble doesn't work on farmers, they wouldn't even try! Funnily enough this (WONDERFUL) vet I am referring to came out when we had a sick lamb. I told my wife it was a bullet job but she wanted to see about it as she felt guilty because it was sick due to her leaving it out in the rain one night! The vet DROVE HERE, got kitted out in hazard suits etc (for foot and mouth risks etc), got her tackle box and walked across several acres, eventually finding the sheep after about 20 minutes of looking.  For the next half an hour she sucked on a tube she put down into the sheep's stomach, my own stomach was doing somersaults just watching, she was literally sucking green gastric juices into her own mouth and spitting it out onto the ground, for half an hour! She then gave it a few shot, ABs, mineral boost, etc, and returned to her car. She then spent 20 minutes chatting to us about what signs to look out for, how if it didn't improve a bullet would be best "and far cheaper than the vet doing it", and some stories about her travels as a rural vet. All in all I would say she was here for 1.5 to 2 hours. We dreaded the bill but got the shock of our lives when it arrived. FORTY POUNDS! £40. £40. £40! I keep saying it but it still doesn't sink in. She had a nice car, she was well dressed, she had a well paid job, and she manages all that on those sorts of rates. My only confusion is where on earth these pet vets hide the MILLIONS they must have stashed away somewhere?!!!

Anyway, that's about my views on vets done to death! And again, I don't tar them all with the same brush, the thieving fraudulent ones do that themselves. I have known a few brilliant vets in my time, but they are like white rhinos these days. It's just such a shame that the propensity to make immense profits has overtaken the desire to just do a good job for good reasons, as all decent vets want to do in their work, for people as well as their animals. And I contend strongly that if more people were like ME, the horrible questioning non-paying for non-owed charges type, and less like the average gullible "pay up, moan about it after you leave but don't make a scene, people will think you don't love your dog" brigade, this farce would come to a halt a lot quicker. My mother in law was charged £5.50 for a TISSUE and £4.80 for a pair of disposable rubber gloves used during an examination?!?! How crazy can it get? She thankfully told them she wasn't paying it and they gave her a "20% discount" as they called it, or just a bit of an "extortion reduction" in my language.



So Paul, now you know how enjoyable it was to read about how you had them wondering if you were some kind of competitor vet or worse, maybe a secret inspector!! I do hope that's what they were thinking! with your experience it sounds like you had them right where you wanted them from day one (i.e. anywhere but standing over you), and obviously that's the only way to get out alive and without a second mortgage these days! When you said they were really asking you "What do you know and how do you know it?", I would suggest an even more accurate translation of their comments as "How far can we pull this guy's wallet open without making fools of ourselves?" :D :D

Sounds like they were trying to suss out just how much they could fool you with, and when the answer was "none", they reverted back to age old traditions of just providing a proper honest service, and it's great that you did receive that in the end. It's just such a shame that you have to prove you are not a gullible imbecile before being able to expect fair and honest service from these profiteering white coats masquerading as saintly animal-welfare workers. But sadly it is the case, over here just as much if not more. I knew an old vet once (retired) and he said "By the time I retired it had become a licence to print money, people will spend anything on their pet, you just have to suggest it now and they pay up because they feel guilty if they don't". That just about summed it up for me, and his 30-40 years of watching the industry slowly change to what it is today, is something he described to me in many conversations over the garden wall and helped me to understand not just why, but how big business got involved, franchised up loads of vet practices, and demanded their pound of flesh more and more often until we have the silliness of today where people pay £10-15,000 to put their 12 year old GSD in a doggie wheelchair to extend his life (i mean suffering) another year or two. Makes my stomach turn it really does, before I even think about the profit aspect!


Well that's got some of my angst out, these camp fires are good for that. :D (I should send a tip for the service really!)


Since this unexpectedly (as much for me as for you) became my  "Ode To Troy", I will end with a few pics. I still avoid looking at these as they remind me of the pure gold we lost from our lives when this dog died....

The regal Troy



First proper meal (in my opinion!)



First swim (with "Ben" a monstrous looking dog half Rottie and half Great Dane taken from the so-called death row, who turned out to be as gentle as a lamb despite the "need to put him down" because he tore up a teddy bear in the shelter, and I badly wish I was joking!)
 


Troy when being sedated in the aforementioned vet visit, oddly in same posture as when he died (except for being bound up like Hannibal Lector at this place, on insistence from staff who at first insisted on handling him themselves against my strong advice, until they took a step towards me to take hold of the rope and changed their mind quite quickly)



First beach visit



Daily game of tennis



Me and my eldest with Troy in first decent bit of snow. This picture is on the wall of my office to remind me how loyal he was, he would sit and stare at me for hours. I never thought I was all that interesting, where would we be without our dogs to keep our spirits up?! :D



My eldest as a toddler with my wife's dog Darcy, another superb (rescue) dog from whom Troy took over guard duties and leadership role gradually as Darcy's age took its toll on his hips and eyesight, eventually making him incontinent, mostly blind and unable to move properly. (At which point he had lots of strokes, then a nice bowl of food to be getting his teeth into, closely followed by a painless end at home in the garden. Something we all found much kinder than a visit to a vet and I am sure the dog did too, more importantly.



Troy and Billy
"What good fortune for governments that the people do not think".

"I would rather be somebody's shot of whiskey, than everybody's cup of tea."

"Give a small man power, and he'll show you how small he is."

Guns-Pencils.png

gitano

One of the most amazing dogs I ever owned was a GSD professionally trained 'guard' dog. He wasn't the 'funnest' dog I ever owned, and he wasn't the dog with whom I have been closest. But he was an amazing dog in his understanding of circumstances and trainability. (I try to get people to understand that if they will train their dogs early in life, then for the rest of their lives they will understand when there is something NEW to learn.) His name was Baron. My little brother, (17 years my junior an 18 months old at the time) would grab two handfuls of Baron's hair and 'sit down'. The dog never even winced. And yet he put 56 stitches the back of a guy's head and neck that 'wasn't where he was supposed to be'.

Baron was the only dog in my life I was KIND OF scared of. It wasn't that I was afraid of him per se, but rather that having had dogs all of my life, and even being successful in training most of them, I KNOW that as a full-grown man, I can 'intimidate' most dogs. All except those that have been 'properly' trained. Baron was one of those that had been properly trained. He could not be intimidated. I am quite sure he didn't have comprehension of that word when it came to humans.

I didn't have to watch Baron 'go', as I left home before he was old enough to die, and my folks moved to Ethiopia and couldn't take him with them so they gave him to a good home.

Quotea nice bowl of food to be getting his teeth into, closely followed by a painless end at home
Took me six months to 'screw my courage to the sticking point' to do that once. Not sure 6 months would be enough nowadays.

Paul
Be nicer than necessary.

Jorge in Oz

"The Germans brought the best hunting rifle to the war. The Americans brought the best target rifle. The British brought the best battle rifle!"
 
"The early church was married to poverty, prisons and persecutions. Today, the church is married to prosperity, personality, and popularity." ― Leonard Ravenhill

SmokeyJoe

QuoteTook me six months to 'screw my courage to the sticking point' to do that once.
Yes it was around 6-12 months for me, I had never done it before and I spent most of that time mulling over the idea with my wife after we watched him slowly deteriorate and had to decide when to pull the plug, some days thinking he had quality of life, other days not. But all the time getting worse.

We tried to apply pure logic and make a clean rational decision which took some real effort. We tried to ignore any other undue pressures/pseudo morality issues. The moral high ground seems to belong to the vet industry (see: shamanism) who have helped convinced people it's better, at least more socially acceptable whatever that counts for (nothing to me these days), to take a dog to their surgery and pay a complete stranger to take the responsibility away from the very people who swore an unwritten oath to safeguard that particular animal's welfare. In this case Darcy hated strangers (which was what brought the idea up in the first place) as he was badly abused when young. A stranger going near him would have sent him into a frenzy of fearful aggression in such a confined space, and with his bad eyesight and hips etc it would have been one great big mess and incredibly stressful for him, the vet would also have been very on edge and the dog would have needed pinning down to get a needle anywhere near him. Then the smells of other dogs and cats, the journey in the car...  We just couldn't put him through it when there was a kinder option available.

I have to say, as much as I dreaded it and it worried me for months beforehand, we felt extremely relieved afterwards that we did follow through with the idea. Several plans to do it were cancelled (by me) while I waited to grow the necessary courage. My wife knew it needed doing asap before he really started suffering daily, but she also knew the deed was harder on me by far so she patiently waited. By the time it was done, she was getting upset watching him deteriorate more and more rapidly, especially with more dominant male dogs around which seemed to accelerate his degeneration, in the end he stayed in one room of the house so he didn't get bulled by the others. Darcy was always firmly the top dog in a pack of up to 7 or 8 dogs on occasions (rescues in and out) and watching him lose his position, see the other dogs start to take liberties with his growing weakness (natural I know) and the effect that had on his quality of life as well as the medical issues, it wasn't nice at all.

When D Day finally arrived, I was absolutely amazed that my wife actually wanted to watch, she is exactly the opposite of the type of character you would expect to want to watch something like that, she runs away when it's time to "do some meat birds" round here as I did the other day! This was clearly very very different. It was mercy, leaving him another day/week would mean deliberately causing more suffering for him, that took any 'guilt' feelings out of the equation immediately. It just had to be done, the kindest way (for him) possible.

The decision was made on ONE premise.... I asked Sarah what she would want if she were the dog? The answer was "not to know a thing about it. To go from being happy to just NOT being, in the shortest time possible.". That sealed it. He came out into the garden with some help from us, he really wasn't very mobile. He stood and peed, the bowl went under his nose, his tail wagged (it was prime beef I must admit!) and as he was enjoying that with his eyes closed savouring the juicy flavours, life just stopped. That's from his perspective of course, the most important one at that time. We suffered more, so he could suffer less. It was that simple.  For us it was obviously much harder than paying someone else to take the job off our hands, take on the responsibility etc. We are both pleased to this day that Darcy spent not just his last day, but his last conscious second in his own garden with familiar sounds and smells, and nobody teary or emotional in sight to tip him off that anything untoward was going on or give him any cause for stress. It was just another day in the garden. With our concentration on setting everything up as perfectly as possible for the dog, we didn't have time to get upset. It was like a planned operation, which helped keep the emotions at bay. At a vets (for me at least) it seems much more charged with emotion, perhaps partly due to the process of 'handing over' responsibility to the executioner. I am letting someone kill my faithful hound, it just seems wrong that and certainly left me feeling much worse than doing it myself did (to my surprise I confess). It's the build up which is so hard. Knowing what you're going to do. That's nasty.  Even though I have done it since then, I am not sure how long (or even if) I could do it now. No, that's not true. I know if I felt it was in the best interests of a dog, I would HAVE to do it, but I don't "feel" like I could and I would probably suffer more than before. Getting older doesn't seem to help with it, perhaps that's why armies like soldiers young! There is a relationship I am sure.

I have had arguments with people over it many a time, but I don't argue any more. I just try to avoid such people as best I can, and any conversations I feel might turn into judging matches. I care deeply for my dogs, and anyone who suggests otherwise really gets under my skin leaving me stewing for weeks about it, especially when such people don't have any knowledge of me or my dogs, and usually are the type who preach animal rights while eating pork and chicken from the supermarkets' battery farms which are rife with outright cruelty and suffering (and these people can't claim ignorance to that). Only a few days after putting the dog down, I offered one such person a leg of lamb out of the freezer (friend of a friend visiting for a coffee). She was a 'social worker', I should have known better. My kids were sat right in front of her. She replied "where is it from?" I said "It's one I slaughtered a few weeks ago, home reared and organically fed, if you like lamb you will love this... bla bla". Her reply went something like "OH MY GOD. YOU ARE DISGUSTING. How can you say that in front of your children? That's abusive". I was shocked out of my skin (especially when I later learned she made judgements on child welfare cases for the police, oh dear). I could hardly muster a reply especially as I had to temper it (she was with a police officer who was on duty!). I just said "What have the kids being here got to do with it? They helped cut it up!". She turned green! At this point I assumed she was probably a veggie so I asked if she was and she said "No I am not a vegetarian but my daughter is, and killing an animal yourself is just WRONG." With that she had the old hand up in my face refused to listen to another word, and she headed for the car to leave. I did manage to ask where she buys her meat and she confirmed she uses the supermarket value section as I suspected. I just despair at such hypocrisy. I raise animals myself TO AVOID putting money in the pockets of battery farms as well as being able to reduce all the waste of modern butchering and get loads of tasty stewing neck meat etc! I don't judge people who buy farmed meat, but I choose not to, and I would expect someone with such "values" to appreciate the point. But no, being in contact with someone who has actually done the slaughtering somehow made her feel dirty and she couldn't leave quickly enough. This level of hypocrisy truly fascinates me. It seems every other person is like this now over here.

To each his own. But as far as I am concerned regarding putting our own dog down, I am happy with it and it's only my conscience I have to satisfy, however much some people try to convince me otherwise! I am not just content, I am so pleased we chose to push through the confusion of emotions and do what seemed right on every logical level for that dog. Nobody could ever convince me otherwise, and I am certain nobody could have cared more for that dog than us.

A great dog, at my wife's side for many years on many solitary woodland walks while I was at work before mobile phones came along! On one such walk he almost certainly saved her life from a serial killer, as silly as that sounds to say it now, it is however true. He had a dignified and painless exit when life become an uphill battle, without leaving the confines of his daily routine. I felt we did him a great service that day, in return for years of faithful service from him. Yin yang shall we say. I will. :)


Baron - ha, I have known several police dogs called Baron and they were always the best on their unit! I totally understand what you mean when you say "kind of scared of"! My current dog has me feeling the same. Not frightened of him but just in awe of the creature, and constantly aware of his potential.
I also agree an average man should be able to intimidate most dogs, and that some dogs won't have any of that nonsense! Sadly those dogs used to exist (genetically I mean) and they have been bred out of so many lines. Nowadays this same effect is "faked" (my interpretation anyway) by over breeding of intense prey drive and using that in training to appear like a dog which can't be intimidated. While this obviously does the job in 99% of cases, it does leave the dogs vulnerable to someone who understands this type of training and how to get around the dog's drive to see the real dog for what it is underneath, and so many working line dogs are lacking in confidence once they are not 'hunting prey'. I heard of a police dog (possibly military police) being killed fairly recently. Officers were called to a brawl, a bunch of soldiers in a bar etc... One of them assaulted the police and ran off. They released the dog which tracked and found him in some bushes. Next thing they had a dead dog (stabbed) and no bad guy to be seen anywhere. Nobody knows for sure but I suspect he pulled his jacket off, got the dog to latch on, and had his way with him. So easy to do on dogs which are prey driven and trained only with that approach. However I understand why they do it, as to train a dog this way takes MUCH less time and money, and it does do the job very well when confronted with the average person. There are still some "old school" dog lines around, but very very rare. It's such a problem that police are trying mixtures of breeds and all sorts of silly ideas now, just to get the old fashioned "hard" dog, a silly way of describing a dog's strength of character and desire to defend itself and WIN, rather than just chase a ball or swinging arm, hat, jacket, or anything else a clued up criminal can wave in its face.

Sounds like your Baron was one of the 'proper' (my opinion) original GSDs which so many show breeders have tried to remove from the GSD bloodlines. I know a woman who has been breeding working line GSDs for around 45 years, one of her dogs has progeny proving its lines right back to one of the earliest registered GSDs. She is fanatical about this stuff and constantly depressed at what kennel clubs and show breeders have done to destroy "her" breed! Some of her photos of her first GSDs really demonstrate the massive change the breed has gone through despite the best efforts of a few old timers like her.
Silly isn't it, it was that nature/character which made them famed the world over for propensity for Police work, search and rescue work, guarding work, even as blind guide dogs. Yet slowly but surely they are being morphed into fluffy empty shells of their former glory. I think there is a word for it... Devolution! 'Sad' is another.
I have a dog now which is pretty awesome by modern standards. That is one dog which certainly can't be intimidated, I know, I tried and failed before making a sharp exit and being forced (for first time in my life) to take a different approach which took weeks. Suffice to say, he came from East Germany where some of the old timers still win in the battle to keep the breed alive in its current form. Having said that, compared to old standards I don't think my dog would be such an amazing specimen, just a good dog. He is a cracker all the same, unfortunately not one person on earth (including my family sadly) is safe to go anywhere near him other than me. So I only get quiet moments to enjoy him on my own and can't really share or even show anyone what a wonderful character he has. I guess he just has to remain my dark little secret!

Anyway, my poker tournament has just finished so time for some shut eye. Glad Tucker is looking up there, long may it continue. :)

Cheers for now


PS - The dark secret...

"What good fortune for governments that the people do not think".

"I would rather be somebody's shot of whiskey, than everybody's cup of tea."

"Give a small man power, and he'll show you how small he is."

Guns-Pencils.png

j0e_bl0ggs (deceased)

Billy still has that endearing grin today, even when beating the living :cens: out of things...




I do like Billy!!!
Turvey Stalking
Learn from the Limeys or the Canucks, or the Aussies, or the Kiwis, or the...
                   "The ONLY reason to register a firearm is for future confiscation - How can it serve ANY other purpose?"

gitano

When I was young and so much smarter than I am today, I would 'dispatch' people's animals for them. Growing up in rural America, I understood the necessity of slaughtering food, and putting animals down to end their suffering. "City folks" - as a rule - don't get that training and associated understanding.

The very first dog I put down belonged to a co-worker. If ever there was a dog that both needed putting down, AND should have made it easy to do, this was that dog. It was the ugliest dog I have EVER seen. Some small 'trap bait' thing that was one of those misshapen, bug-eyed, hideous-looking things that even at their best are just butt-ugly. On top of that, it was mangy, missing large patches of hair, tumorous, and wheezing. Like I said, should have been an easy chore. It wasn't. It was an experience I won't forget unless I get Alzheimer's.

If I remember correctly, I was asked by the owner of the above dog something like: "You're a hunter, right? You have guns, right? Could you put my dog down?" That's one of the 'finer points' that non-Hunters simply can NOT understand. Namely, that Hunting is not "killing". Human language doesn't offer the proper terminology to separate the death that is part and parcel of Hunting, and "killing". There's a difference that non-hunters will never understand.
 
That was the last time I performed that service for anyone else. For a dog. However, I had friends that raised all sorts of animals like chickens, and rabbits, and other "farm" animals as a hobby, that couldn't bring themselves to dispatch their animals when the time came. They would bring their critters to me to do the unpleasant work. I did, mostly as a favor to my friends, and because I knew that otherwise they wouldn't do it, or they would get 'legged up' (as Alain would say) by a vet. After a while, I quit performing that service. For a couple of reasons: 1) I didn't like it. I think it 'bruised' my soul. 2) I realized that I was actually depriving them of an important 'lesson' about life. At some point, a person needs to 'grow up' with respect to the responsibilities of LIFE. Sadness for death is 'good' and 'right'. But so is taking on the responsibilities of being an adult that owns an animal.

This of course raises the question of euthanasia in humans. AKA "death with dignity". Just as the death associated with Hunting is different than "killing" animals, so do I believe that dispatching an animal that NEEDS putting down, is different than "death with dignity" for a human being. I was discussing "living wills" and "do not resuscitate" orders with a co-worker. I had made the comment something like "I don't want them to pull the plug on me if I can't make the decision, but I don't want them to make "extraordinary" effort, (heart-lung machine with no brain-waves, for example), just to keep me "alive". We then got to the point about who makes the decision, and my friend made a comment that I remember to this day. He said; "I don't want any of my family members to HAVE to make that decision." I gave him a 'look' and said, "You want some cold, calculating, member of the medical profession to decide if you live or die?" He said, "Yes. And here's why: I don't want to put one of my immediate family members in the horrible position of having to make a life-and-death decision about one of their loved ones." I mentally put myself in that position, and realized the wisdom of his perspective. He qualified his point of view by saying that the decision-maker wouldn't be some random doctor, but a well-trusted professional with whom this was discussed in full, long before this event might pose itself. That all made sense to me, and I have made similar provisions.

Here's the point: While you and I would not 'pass off' the unpleasantness of putting one of our beloved animals down to some vet in a cold, 'foreign' clinic, I would, and have, taken that burden off of my immediate family members because I don't want them to suffer with making AND HAVING MADE, that decision.

LIFE is not 'simple'. Many of the important decisions of our lives are not "black and white". Some we have to make are tough, and the choices are gray (or grey in the UK), and often change with changing circumstances.

I have few pictures of Baron. I will try to find one to scan.

Paul
Be nicer than necessary.

SmokeyJoe

Quote from: gitano;148690Hunting is not "killing"...... There's a difference that non-hunters will never understand.
This is SO true. I truly believe it's practically impossible to understand that difference until a person has been the lonely one behind the trigger on both tasks. As you say, language can't really explain it, it's completely abstract to anyone who hasn't done both and felt the difference between hunting something (which can escape) and killing something practically defenceless, something which really can only blame it's impending last breath on you, only you, and you alone! Couldn't be more different.
Someone local to me asked me quite recently to put down his dog. He lives on a housing estate (a very rough and busy one) and I declined because I knew I would not get out without conversations with people about it. A few weeks later I found out he called the local pound and told them he "found it straying on the beach" and got them to take it away. I now regret not doing it, I would have saved that dog a whole world of suffering, because a load of do-gooders (only doing their own ego good I might add) will now put that dog through untold stress and extended misery (no chance of rehoming it) in order to bow to their holy mantra of "never putting a dog down".  A mantra which I think is flawed from any perspective of true animal welfare. It's all about human welfare, human self-aggrandisement, humans feeling better than each other, just basically cheap egotistical competition without a single care for what would actually be best for the dog, in no small part due to the fact that the true best option for the dog would also be the hardest to actually carry out for the humans concerned.

Quote from: gitano;148690a person needs to 'grow up' with respect to the responsibilities of LIFE
I do agree with you, but I also know that it would be unfair of me to expect, for example, my own mother to put her own dog down. Or for that matter my wife. Not so much out of her inability to do it, but her lack of ability with guns and her lack of faith in herself to do it right, clean, swiftly and proficiently. I don't necessarily feel everyone should have to do it for themselves, but I do think they should take full responsibility for it once they request to have it done. I see it a bit like a good car mechanic. My mother can't do that work, so takes it to someone who can. The real lesson I think townie society needs is that all of their lives are made possible by those folks they like to look down their noses at. Whether it's those 'misogyntistic' men who didn't allow women in the military, meanwhile fighting two world wars to defend the freedom which they can now abuse at will. Whether its those murdering farmers killing livestock and vermin, so the towns could flourish with an abundance of food both meat and veg, again enabling the expansion of urban areas and more importantly, the middle class sub-urban areas from whence all the modern "freedom" movements come! The burly heavy drinking irish who built the roads to let them drive their teslas and eco friendly vehicles, the horrible 'racist' police who are their first call when the proverbial brown stuff hits whatever fan they are near at any second in their comfy little lives....... it's an endless list of course!






Quote from: gitano;148690"I don't want to put one of my immediate family members in the horrible position of having to make a life-and-death decision about one of their loved ones."
What a very good point! It's a tough balance between trusting a doctor (these days for me that's not easy anyway!) and putting a loved one in that awful position. But yes that's a good point and I would probably have to agree.



Quote from: gitano;148690"Life is not simple"
I'll drink to that! If it was simple, it would be boring and unchallenging anyway. I do like to think life could be a whole lot more LOGICAL sometimes though!

Do find a pic of Baron if you can, I have a picture in my mind of a big reddish brown bear, but thats because every "Baron" GSD I have seen was always like that! Just as with so many things in life, they don't make stuff like they used to, and dogs are certainly not excluded. I wish I could go back 50 or so years in a time machine, just to pick up a dog!
"What good fortune for governments that the people do not think".

"I would rather be somebody's shot of whiskey, than everybody's cup of tea."

"Give a small man power, and he'll show you how small he is."

Guns-Pencils.png

SmokeyJoe

PS How's pooch doing now?
"What good fortune for governments that the people do not think".

"I would rather be somebody's shot of whiskey, than everybody's cup of tea."

"Give a small man power, and he'll show you how small he is."

Guns-Pencils.png

gitano

Quotebut I do think they should take full responsibility for it once they request to have it done.
Which is a point I should have included in my comments, for the very reasons you mention. A given person doesn't have to "do it", but they DO have to take responsibility for someone else doing it for them.

Tucker is doing fine now. BUT... and this could be completely 'point of view', but I think he behaves differently. I think the 'pi$$ and vinegar' is gone. BUT... he is still alive and 'freakish' with regard to squirrels, even if he seems lackadaisical now with respect to moose!

It's 'fall time' here now, and that definitely means - among other things - 'harvest time'. Here, the harvest season is short, and you kind of have to get while the gettin' is good.  Meaning, I WILL look for a picture of Baron, I just haven't had the chance of late. (Or remembered to when I did have the time!)

Paul
Be nicer than necessary.

Hunterbug

I'm glad that Tucker is feeling better.
Ask not what your government can do for you. Ask how your government can go away and get out of your life.
 
 
The unarmed man is is not only defenseless, he is also contemptible.
Niccolo Machiavelli

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