Rolling Dog Farm

Deaf Tyler's Boat

Our deaf English Pointer Tyler was always a big breakfast eater but never seemed very interested in dinner.  We would try different foods, mix it up in different ways, but usually he'd just nibble at dinner and leave most of it in his bowl.  This was always a little upsetting to us, because Tyler is a high-energy, high-burn hunting dog who needs as many calories as we can get in him. 

Then Kathryn and Beth discovered that Tyler would devour his dinner on one condition:  that he gets to eat in his "boat," as we call it.  This is the bottom half of an old crate that we've used as one of the beds for the dogs who aren't crated at night in Widget's House.  We pile some blankets in it and they love sleeping there.  Well, one evening someone -- I'm not sure who actually made the discovery -- put a bowl of food inside the boat while Tyler was lying in it.  He sprang to life, checked out the bowl, and wolfed down all the food.

Thus dining in the boat became standard operating procedure for feeding Tyler.  I took the first photo of Tyler this evening while he was busy eating; I took the second photo about 15 minutes later, while he was enjoying a quick after-dinner snooze on the cool linoleum floor.   

Thanks to the boat, our once too-skinny Tyler is now carrying a very healthy amount of weight and looking really good!

Bailey The Decadent

This is little Bailey, the miniature Dachshund with a bad spine who came to us earlier this year from an animal hoarder court case.  I took this photo at breakfast, while all the other dogs were up, the house was bustling, and Bailey was -- as he always is -- not stirring.  No, sir.  He lies on his cot in the living room, drifting in and out of sleep, in the midst of all this activity.  Nothing moves but his eyes, and even then it's usually only his eyelids moving ... and they're sliding down, so he can go back to sleep.

I saw this scene from the breakfast table and thought it looked rather decadent.  Bailey won't actually spring to life until we are finally heading out the door to take care of the horses.  Then he realizes he has one last shot to get outside, so he shakes the bedding off, climbs off the cot, and skitters to the front door, his tiny back legs fish-tailing side-to-side as he goes.

Because of his spine problem, he's incontinent -- he doesn't go all the time, but he doesn't know when "it" is about to happen.  Thus going outside in the morning doesn't mean he's necessarily doing his business out there, but it's part of his routine.  (We always have to change his bedding because he wets his bed every night.)  During the day, as soon as he realizes he's beginning to poop, he races to the door, trying to get outside in time.  It's always too late, though, and in the process of getting to the door, he leaves a trail of pee and poop across the floor.  (That, dear reader, is why we have linoleum!)  Bless his little heart, Bailey may not be able to control it, but he knows he should be going outside, not inside, and he tries so hard to get there!

(Click on photo for larger image.)

'Good Morning America' Comes To The Ranch

Neal Karlinsky, an ABC News correspondent based in Seattle, came out to the ranch today to do a story on the sanctuary for Good Morning America.  His crew included Jim Bolser behind the camera and Robin Briley doing the sound work.  In addition to seeing all the animals here, they got to watch our horse trainer, Nichole Zupan, working with blind Nikki in the round pen, and Alayne riding our blind gelding Domino.

Beth took this group photo this afternoon after all the filming was done.  From left to right, that's Robin, Alayne, Neal, Jim, Nichole, Kathryn and me.  I'm not a big fan of group photos, but here's proof ABC News was really here!

At one point Robin did a little videotaping herself with a camera they use for what they call 'POV,' or Point-of-View.  This is to show a different perspective, generally from the subject's viewpoint.  In this case, what it would be like riding a blind horse or even being a blind horse.  So Robin climbed on blind Domino and Nichole led them down the drive while Robin shot video from different angles.  I took this photo of them as they were coming back from that ride.

We do NOT know yet when the story is going to air.  Neal said he would be working on it early next week, and the earliest it could air would be mid-week but probably later.  The Good Morning America staff in New York decides on the schedule.  We will post an air date on the blog as soon as we learn of it.  Also, if you'd like me to send you an email once we find out the date, just let me know by emailing me at [email protected].  I'll build an email list and hopefully we'll have enough advance notice to get the word out in time to everyone who wants to see it.

Blind Dusty's Dining Room

I took this photo yesterday evening, just as blind Dusty had finished eating dinner in his "dining room."  At Widget's House, our main building for disabled dogs, we feed most of the dogs in their crates, then turn them back outside.

We've found that feeding goes more smoothly this way, and almost all of the dogs prefer to eat in the privacy of their own crates.  (Some would prefer to wander around and check out what everyone else is eating, of course!)  And by dining 'a la crate,' everybody can eat at their own pace.

Dusty had come to us several years ago as a blind and terrified former sled dog.  Roughly treated in the past, he cowered and slinked on his belly.  From those early days, he has come a long way...but he still isn't sure about people.  He's not aggressive at all, but usually he'd prefer just to be left alone.  Once you've got him where you can pet him, though, about 10 minutes of lovin' him up will get Dusty to drop his guard and relax. 

He also now is interacting a lot more with the other dogs, and at night, he'll line up to come inside Widget's House along with everyone else.  It took us two years before he'd come into the cottages on his own, and even then he'd wait in the shadows until the others had gone inside.  Now, he's one of the gang.

(Click on photo for larger image.)

Blind Bud Sees Dr. Dave

Our blind dog Bud has not been doing well the past few days.  He's hasn't shown much interest in food, and what little food Bud does eat he often throws up ... but not all the time.  He seems a bit disoriented, distant, lethargic, and just not his usual responsive self.  Beth and Kathryn described him as suddenly acting and looking very old.  Yet Kathryn checked his vital signs yesterday and everything was normal.

Bud has had his "off" spells in the past, but this didn't seem like one of those ... and at the very least, we didn't want to make that assumption.  So I took him in to see our internal medicine specialist in Missoula, Dr. Dave Bostwick, this afternoon.

Dave did a complete physical exam and found nothing unusual, and Bud's vital signs were all within range today, too.  Next up was the ultrasound, which is what we're doing in this photo.  Dave found a small (1.8 cm) mass in Bud's spleen, which could be the source of the problem ... or could be coincidental. 

Dave said that typically one-third of masses in the spleen are benign and two-thirds are malignant.  (I didn't like the sound of those odds.)  The only way to find out, of course, is a biopsy.

The ultrasound showed all of Bud's other organs looking normal, as did his heart.  There was nothing abnormal in the urinalysis.  Dave drew blood for a complete blood count and chemistry panel, and we should have those results in the next 24 hours.  The blood work will probably answer a lot of questions, and then we'll go from there in terms of the biopsy. 

Bud is wearing a muzzle during the ultrasound because he can get a wee-bit snappy when stressed -- not aggressive "I-want-to-hurt-you" snappy, but "please-don't-do-this-I-don't-like-it" snappy.  He doesn't actually try to bite, it's more like snapping at the air, but we learned it's best to muzzle him during procedures like this.

(This has nothing to do with anything, but a few months ago we came up with a great name for a band:  Dr. Dave and the Ultrasounds!)

(Click on photos for larger image.)

When He's Not Wobbling, He's Rolling

Here's our wonderful little cat Wobbles, showing us (again) why we shouldn't have called this place the Rolling Dog Ranch but the Rolling Animal Ranch.  Wobs, who has cerebellar hypoplasia, was in the hospital a week ago with a bout of pneumonia, but as you can see from this 1 minute video clip, he's feeling just fine now!

Blind Guadalupe Comes To The Ranch

Kathryn and I drove to Spokane on Saturday to pick up a blind mare who was saved from slaughter by a Washington state group we work with, Columbia Basin Equine Rescue.  They're in the Tri-cities area, and they rescue horses by buying them from the feedlots where they are destined for slaughter.  This group looks for horses that are still sound, healthy and otherwise capable of having a good quality of life.  After they purchase them, they work to adopt them out. 

They contact us when they come across a blind horse in the feedlot.  When they saw this blind Appaloosa mare stumbling around the stockyards two weeks ago, they emailed to ask if we could take her.  We said yes, so they paid the fee to purchase her (food value only) and pulled her out.  They managed to get the mare to a nice lady named Sheri G. in Deer Park, north of Spokane, who kindly offered to foster her until we could get there.  That saved several hours of driving time for us.

The rescue group had named the mare Shasta, but we already have a blind horse named Shasta.  Hmm.  When we got to Sheri's place, she was outside with the mare on a lead rope.  Sheri handed the lead rope to Kathryn, and the mare promptly walked right on top of me.  Then she turned and nearly walked over Kathryn.  She was wound up for some reason, so I took the lead rope and began longeing her in Sheri's yard, making her go round and round at a quick pace to work off the "zest."  The mare still was quite feisty and spirited (translation: she was a handful), prompting Kathryn to give her a new name on the spot: Guadalupe.

Maybe we had passed too many Mexican restaurants on U.S. 395 as we drove north from Spokane to Deer Park, but this mare brought "hot" and "spicy" to mind ... hence the Mexican name.  (We also thought it made sense because we could call her "loopy" when she got wound up like this.)

To her credit, Guadalupe loaded into the trailer just fine, and we had an uneventful trip back to the ranch, getting home around 10:30 p.m.  I unloaded Guadalupe easily and we walked her into Beauty's Barn and then into her stall for the night.  I took this photo of Kathryn with Guadalupe this evening.  Guadalupe is a very sweet girl, and was much better behaved today.  We think she's probably been a broodmare her whole life, so she hasn't been handled much.  This would explain why she isn't good about "personal space" issues .. but she'll learn soon enough!

(Click on photo for larger image.)

Taking Our Blind Horses For A Ride

Today was a momentous occasion: I rode blind Nikki, our little two-year old, for the very first time.  Our horse trainer, Nichole Zupan, was at the ranch this morning working with Nikki in the round pen.  I said, "Hey, when do you think I can get on her?"  Without saying a word, Nichole grinned, then slipped off the saddle and handed me the reins.

Apparently the time was now.  (Full disclosure:  It would be kind to call me a "novice" rider.)

I took the reins, put my foot in the stirrup, and climbed into the saddle.  With a nudge from my heels, Nikki started off at a slow walk.  Then she stopped after about 10 yards.  Hmm.  Another nudge from my heels, and off we went again, around and around.  Then I'd bring her to a stop, stand there quietly for a few moments, and move off again. 

It just gave me a tingle, realizing I was riding this born-blind filly who we had only started training in late April.  And here I was, barely a rider myself, riding her with all the confidence in the world.

As you can see from the photo, my heels were way too high because the stirrups were too low -- Nichole has longer legs than I do!  But Nikki didn't seem to mind, and she trusted me that I wasn't going to do something dumb like walk her into the fence.

Meanwhile, Alayne was riding another of our blind horses, Domino, a small Appaloosa gelding.  Both Alayne and I had ridden him in the corrals and round pen earlier this week for the first time.  Nichole worked with him on Wednesday as well.  We all found him to be an easy-going, calm fellow who clearly had seen a lot of miles in his day.  When I was taking photos this morning of Alayne on Domino, our biggest challenge was keeping him from falling asleep while he was standing there! 

(Click on photos for larger image.)

Laddie's Leg Wound

We were bringing the blind horses in from pasture this afternoon when Kathryn noticed a bad wound on Laddie's right rear leg.  We examined his leg in the corral, and then Kathryn walked Laddie down to Beauty's Barn and put him in the horse stock in the medical room.

Kathryn did the initial scrub-down before leaving for Widget's House to begin feeding the dogs there.  In the meantime, Alayne had talked with our equine vet, Bill Brown, about the wound, and he asked us to email him a photo to review.  So while we were taking photos to send Bill, Alayne also took these photos of me cleaning and then bandaging the wound.  (Say, how do you like the farmer's tan on those arms?)

Just so you know, the real danger in working on a horse's rear leg is not getting kicked but getting pooped on!  Laddie was so nervous about being in the horse stock he pooped six different times while standing there.  Alayne would notice Laddie lifting his tail and would say to me, "Look out, here comes another one!"

In truth, Laddie is one of those gentle souls who wouldn't kick, even during an uncomfortable and perhaps painful procedure like cleaning this wound.  He kept raising his leg to let me know he didn't like it and was uncomfortable, but all I'd have to do is hold on to his foot and say, "Laddie, give it to me."  And then he'd gingerly put his foot back down. 

So I dressed the wound, covered it with vet wrap, and then Alayne led him back to his corral outside Lena's Barn.  I emailed a close-up of the wound to Bill and am waiting to hear what he thinks might have caused it.  (It almost looks like an abscess that ruptured, but it could have been a puncture wound, too.)  We're also starting Laddie on some antibiotics tonight to help ward off infection.

(Click on photos for larger image.)

The Story Behind Goldie

If you saw our recent post about blind Goldie ("The Lone Sentinel"), you''ll enjoy this story.  Dr. Karla  Mooers, a Seattle-area veterinarian who visited us this weekend (see post below), is responsible for helping save Goldie several years ago and bringing her into our life.  This was when we lived in Bellevue, Washington, a suburb of Seattle.  I took this photo of Goldie with Karla here at the ranch on Monday.  (That's blind and deaf Spinner in the background.)

I happened to be at Karla's clinic waiting in an exam room with another of our dogs, Dillon, when three guys brought Goldie in and said they wanted her put down.  They claimed she had been hit by a car, didn't want to pay for any X-rays, and had no interest in any medical care.  Yet Goldie was walking around the clinic, and although she had a swollen shoulder, she seemed fine.

The clinic staff were distraught.  She had been a patient at the clinic since she was a puppy.  Goldie was only 1 year old at the time, cute, affectionate, and sweet.  (She went blind later, when she was with us.)  The staff pressed the men, asking, "Are you sure you want her euthanized?"  They insisted they did, and one of them said again, "We just want her put down."  As he said it, he made a motion with his hand, thrusting his thumb downwards.  Then he added, "We'll just start over."

The staff at the front desk were livid, of course, but they had no choice.  The men paid the euthanasia fee and left.  A vet tech came and took Goldie into the back to prepare her for euthanasia.  Then another vet tech, Bindy O., pulled Karla aside and told her about the euthanasia case that had just come in.  Bindy said to Karla, "You know who's in Room No. 1, don't you?"  (Yes, we already had a reputation by then!) 

The next thing I know, Karla and Bindy had come into the exam room and were telling me what just happened.  Then they stopped talking and looked at me with this expression that said, "Well?"

Silence.

I finally said, "Oh, all right, we'll go ahead and take her."  I asked Karla to shoot some X-rays, find out what was wrong with the dog, and give her whatever medical care she needed.

Then they took me into the back so I could see her for the first time.  I went into the surgery area where Goldie was standing on a metal table, trembling with fear.  Three vet techs were holding her, all of them crying, while one had already scrubbed her leg where the euthanasia syringe would go.  Karla told them, "We won't be doing this.  Steve is going to take her."   Of course, their tears turned to joy.

The X-rays showed no broken bones or anything else that would suggest Goldie had been hit by a car.  We finally concluded that one of the jerks had just kicked Goldie to make it look like she'd been injured by a vehicle.  Apparently they felt the need to manufacture some justification for wanting to kill an otherwise healthy, young animal.

And here's the weird part.  Remember I said I had gone to the clinic with Dillon, one of our other dogs?  Well, I had just discovered that day a lump on his side and wanted it checked out right away.  By the time Karla came back to the exam room to look at Dillon, there was no lump.  We never found it again. 

(Click on photo for larger image.)