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I sat down at the breakfast table this morning and looked over to see this sight next to me -- that's blind and deaf Spinner ... or Spin, as we usually call her -- sound asleep on the cot. There was something striking about the angles and colors that caught my eye, so I headed to the office to get the camera.
Here's the straight-on view:
One of the ways you can provide "mental stimulation" for a blind dog is with a scent trail. You take small dog treats that have a fairly distinct smell and lay them out on the ground, every 10 to 20 feet or so, and create a winding trail of the treats for 30 yards or more. The dogs set out to find the treats, just using their noses. It's quite a game, and they love it.
Well, our employee Cindy inadvertently turned herself into a walking scent trail for one of our blind dogs who has an incredibly acute sense of smell. Cindy often carries some dog cookies in her coat pocket while she's outside working in the dog yards, scooping the poop and doing those kinds of daily chores. Blind Allie figured out that Cindy was usually carrying treats with her, and began following her wherever she went. Allie is mostly deaf -- she can only hear very loud noises within a few feet of her -- so she relies on her nose for almost everything. The yard that Allie plays in during the day is about a half-acre, so there's quite a bit of ground to cover ... but cover it she does.
This has turned into a daily contest, with Allie doing her best to track Cindy across the yard. So the other day Cindy picked up the camera we have at Widget's House and took these photos of Allie following her human scent trail. In the photo at top, Allie has just realized -- using only her sense of smell -- that Cindy has entered the yard. She sprang out of the dog house and set off in pursuit.
Here she is, on the case:
Dang that sagebrush, it may smell nice but it sure can throw your nose off:
Now she's getting closer:
And here she realizes she may have finally cornered her quarry:
Which means, of course, only one thing: "It's time for that treat I know you have in your pocket!"
One of the many reasons we love our primary care vet, Dr. Brenda Culver, is because she has an intense interest in ophthalmology -- and when more than half of our animals are blind, that's really important! Not only does Brenda have the ophthalmic diagnostic tools that the average vet doesn't have (like a slit-lamp and Tono-Pen), but she devotes a lot of her continuing education in veterinary medicine to ophthalmology. So she regularly attends the annual gathering of the American College of Veterinary Ophthalmologists (ACVO) to learn about the latest research in this field.
At the ACVO conference in Boston a few weeks ago, Brenda saw on the seminar roster a presentation about a newly identified eye condition in standard Poodles. She thought of our blind Poodle sisters, Molly and Priscilla, and figured she might learn more about what caused their blindness.
Brenda's initial diagnosis for them was progressive retinal atrophy, though she acknowledged at the time that we might always have a bit of a question mark about it. Without knowing the history of the girls, when they started going blind, how old they were at the time, etc. -- and without being able to see the changes in their eyes as they occur -- you kind of end up making a diagnosis after the fact. It can be like putting the pieces of a puzzle together in the dark, and sometimes there is no more complicated a puzzle than the very complex eye!
It turns out that the presentation in Boston explained a lot, and Brenda was excited to tell me last week what she learned. It appears that Molly and Priscilla have a condition called early-onset photoreceptor dystrophy.
Essentially, it starts out as day blindness with reduced night vision, but then progresses to total blindness within one year of age. The rods and the cones in the retina are initially affected differently, hence the day vs. night vision difference, but ultimately both rods and cones become nonfunctional, resulting in complete blindness. (As I understand it, the rods are the photoreceptors that are very sensitive to light but not color, and thus are used for night vision. Cones are the photoreceptors we use to detect color ... but they are not very sensitive to light, so only work well in daylight. It takes both rods and cones working together to give us full vision.)
The researchers initially called it the “Sugar” syndrome because the first known example of this condition was in a brown standard Poodle named Sugar. But now they have a formal name for it: Early-Onset Photoreceptor Dystrophy.
And -- interesting point here -- some of the Poodles in the study were, yes, littermates.
There isn't anything we can do to restore Molly's and Priscilla's vision, but we always like learning as much as we can about these medical conditions in our animals. Ultimately, of course, it would be great if there were a way to identify the underlying cause of this disease and be able to test for it before anyone breeds standard Poodles. The researchers are now doing further research into the genetic basis of the disease.
I emailed one of the researchers today to let her know about Molly and Priscilla in case they wanted to include them in their on-going study.
Margaret thought that the only off-note in Barack Obama's otherwise superb election night speech was the part where he told his daughters, "you have earned the new puppy that's coming with us to the White House."
If this campaign was about change, Margaret reasoned, why a puppy in the White House? So many presidents have had dogs as pets. That's really just the same old stuff. Why not ... just for the sake of argument here ... why not a miniature goat?
That, Margaret said, would be change. Real change.
Then she listened to the President-elect's first press conference on Friday and heard how the puppy was becoming quite an issue with the hypoallergenic thing. While she recognized how important it was that the Obama family wanted to adopt a shelter dog, rather than buy a dog from a breeder -- what a wonderful signal that sends to the country! -- Margaret thought she could offer the soon-to-be First Family a way out of their predicament.
"Consider me," she says.
Margaret even claims to be hypoallergenic, though we are not exactly sure there's any valid scientific data to support her position on this.
She points out that there is historical precedent for a goat in the White House: Both President Abraham Lincoln and President Benjamin Harrison (1889-1893) had pet goats. Lincoln even allowed his two goats, Nanny and Nanko, to ride in the presidential carriage. (Hey, she is not making this up! See this article.)
But since it's been more than a century since a goat graced the White House lawn (not to mention the Rose Garden ... yum yum yum!), surely it's time to consider having a goat again as the nation's First Pet?
[A side note from Steve to new White House staff: Just consider that when things go wrong -- as they inevitably do in any White House -- there would always be a real scapegoat to blame.]
You'd better pour yourself a cup of coffee for this one. The story of how these blind boys made it to the ranch is one of the strangest, and most nerve-wracking, we've ever been involved in. These two dogs -- Buddy and Jake -- were saved three times along the way. So-called 'rescue groups' betrayed them, and an informal network of attorneys rode to their final rescue.
That's Jake with me in the photo above, taken at the airport in Bozeman, Montana, this afternoon. Here is Buddy:
Their story starts with Odie's Fund, a grantmaking foundation set up by Simone and Greg R. in Washington, D.C. to help with dog rescue. Part of their mission is to help save blind dogs facing euthanasia in animal shelters.
A few months ago, Simone had learned of two blind hound mix boys, Buddy and Jake, who had been abandoned by their owner in what was most likely a foreclosure situation. A caring neighbor had spotted the boys and took them to her local humane society in western North Carolina. The dogs were about to be euthanized.
Simone contacted the humane society and offered to sponsor the dogs with an appropriate rescue group in the area. The humane society told her that a reputable rescue group in nearby Nashville, Tennessee, had stepped up to take the boys and place them in a foster home, and so Simone arranged for Odie's Fund to send grants to pay for their care.
Well, it turns out that the supposedly reputable rescue group had placed the dogs, without Simone's knowledge, in the home of an animal hoarder. Simone found out about this when the hoarder's property was raided by Nashville's Metro Animal Control and more than 60 animals were seized, including -- yes -- Buddy and Jake.
Simone was horrified to find out what had happened to the dogs she thought she had helped save. She contacted us immediately and asked if we could provide a home for the two boys here if she could get them out of the legal process. (Odie's Fund had already provided the ranch with a generous grant this year for our work with blind dogs.) We agreed to take them, and together, Simone and I tracked the court proceedings as best we could. Finally, the case ended (apparently with a plea agreement of some sort) and the court granted legal custody of the animals to Metro Animal Control.
All along, Simone had been asking the North Carolina humane society to tell Metro Animal Control that the animals had a home at the Rolling Dog Ranch in Montana and that the boys shouldn't be euthanized in Nashville. Nothing came of those requests.
Finally, the day after the court case was settled, Simone and I agreed that I would call Metro Animal Control and ask that Buddy and Jake be released to us. Simone had identified a private boarding kennel in Nashville to take the dogs until we could arrange their trip to Montana.
I reached the Animal Control Officer who had seized Buddy and Jake from the animal hoarder's property, and I explained who we were and how we were involved. Up until then he was not aware of how Buddy and Jake had managed to end up at the hoarder's place. He told me that none of the animals they seized would be going back to the local rescue groups because, he said, these organizations knew about the conditions there. He said they even had a nickname for the animal hoarder: "Stinky." The officer said the rescue groups called her that because she always smelled like dog poop whenever she went to pick up one of their "foster" animals. And yet they continued to use her for this purpose.
The Animal Control Officer sounded very positive about working with us to get Buddy and Jake to Montana, but he said I would have to talk with his supervisor, Judy Ladebauche, the director of Metro Animal Control. He asked me to call her the following Tuesday, when she would be in the office.
I called Ms. Ladebauche that Tuesday but was told she was not available and that I could leave a message for her. I did. One day went by. Then another. I called again. "Not available." I left yet another message. This time the animal control staff person who took my call said, "Oh, is this about the blind dogs?' I thought, well, word is getting around the someone is interested in the welfare of these two dogs.
I found Ms. Ladebauche's email address in a Google search and sent her an email, explaining again who we are, how the dogs ended up there, and that we have a home for them in Montana. Yet more days passed and she still didn't respond to either my email or my earlier calls. Simone also called, left a message, but didn't get a call back either.
I called the Animal Control Officer again -- the one who initially had seemed supportive of our efforts -- but now I could never get ahold of him. Each time I was told he was also "unavailable."
By this point Simone and I were getting a sick feeling. I had found a Nashville news article online from earlier this year that quoted the same Animal Control Officer as saying the shelter was euthanizing 30-50 animals every day, six days a week. Yes, six days a week.
We were worried that their refusal to respond to us was because they had already killed the two dogs, and just didn't want to admit it.
We realized we were running out of time and out of options.
Finally, Simone contacted a friend who works for a major law firm in Washington, D.C. Her friend put her in touch with a senior attorney at the firm, who happened to know another attorney who was a partner at a law firm in Nashville. Within hours, that Nashville attorney placed a call to Ms. Ladebauche who ... amazing, isn't it? ... agreed to take his call. Suddenly, Ms. Ladebauche was very willing to have the dogs go to Montana, and all she needed was someone to come right over to animal control and fill out the paperwork!
After weeks of stonewalling, all it took was a single phone call from a Nashville attorney to get her attention.
As luck would have it, the senior attorney in Washington also had an uncle in Nashville, who was himself a retired attorney. The retired attorney graciously offered to go to animal control to sign the paperwork, and then he picked up Buddy and Jake the following day and took them to Crossroads, a wonderful private boarding kennel Simone had arranged for them.
At long last, they were truly safe. Had it not been for these attorneys, this would not have happened.
While I worked out the travel arrangements last week, Simone purchased crates and had them delivered to the boarding kennel. Crossroads took excellent care of the boys, provided the vet care they needed, and kept us updated on their condition. Gina C. from Crossroads even offered to take them to the Nashville airport for us, and then called today to make sure they got here safely!
We flew Buddy and Jake from Nashville yesterday evening to Minneapolis on Northwest Airlines, overnighted them at a boarding facility, and then flew them on to Bozeman, Montana this afternoon. I drove down to Bozeman (about three hours from the ranch) to pick them up. My brother Mike, who recently moved to the Bozeman area from Florida, kindly came out to the airport to help me with the boys. Mike also took the photos above of me with Buddy and Jake.
They are very sweet dogs, clearly love people, and are quite affectionate. Buddy definitely has more hound in him and is the bigger of the two. It's hard to tell from the photo, but Jake has a wire-haired coat to some extent ... and less hound. Both are very handsome guys!
I drove them from Bozeman to Helena, where I dropped them off at our vet clinic for eye exams, blood panels, and the usual oil/lube/filter work. We will bring them home to the ranch next week.
And that is the story of how Buddy and Jake came to Montana!
Here is a final photo of the newly arrived pair, back in their crates just before we left Bozeman for Helena:
I got this shot yesterday when I was coming out of Widget's House. That's blind Dusty, waiting to go inside for dinner. He's a wonderful boy, very gentle and sweet. But despite his size -- he's probably about 90 pounds -- he's very skittish about being around a group of dogs. So he prefers to stay back until all the other dogs, who are typically milling around the front porch, have gone inside first. With the porch cleared, Dusty will saunter up to the door and stand there patiently until we open the door for him. Then he walks in, does a quick, excitable spin or two -- "Dinner time! Woo hoo!" -- and heads into his crate to eat.
I was over at Widget's House this afternoon with Cindy when I took these photos of Travis. As I showed Cindy the images on the camera's playback screen, she laughed and said, "You know, he really looks like a cartoon character!"
Indeed he does. The pinned-back ears somehow only accentuate his pointy-headedness, which is caused by the disease (masticatory myositis) that afflicted his jaw muscles and fused his mouth shut. But along with the pure white hair and the big black nose ... and then those stunning bright blue eyes ... well, the whole package says "Disney" all over it.
We had some folks ask questions about Travis in their comments on the 'Early Morning Sun' blog post, so here goes:
-- He hasn't gained any significant weight. I think it was partly how the sun was hitting him in that photo, along with the fact that his collar was riding high up on his neck at that moment.
-- He can't pant, and since he doesn't realize he needs to pant to regulate his body temperature, we have to bring him indoors on hot summer days to make sure he doesn't overheat. He's very energetic and athletic and will keep zooming around the dog yard on blistering days, which is why he needs his cool-down periods.
-- Travis pulled out his stomach tube quite a while ago, and since we hadn't used it in years -- we learned he can slurp a liquid diet by sticking his tongue out of the left side of his mouth -- our vets didn't put it back in. Without the stomach tube to hide from prying lips, we didn't need to keep clothing on him.
We realized that having a fused jaw may turn out to be, as odd as it sounds, nature's way of protecting Travis from himself. He's very much an alpha personality. In his own mind he's a massive, 120-lb Mastiff-sized dog ... not the slender, fine-boned, 50-lb little guy he really is. So not having a mouth to work with puts a limit on his ability to act out his dominance "issues," if you know what I mean!
So rather than be the neighborhood bully, he's become the class clown, the ever-lovable goofball who keeps us all laughing. Even with a little more distance in the photo, it doesn't do much to alter the cartoon-like appearance:
Alayne got these wonderful shots of Bailey with our old friend, Mr. Caterpillar, in the living room this afternoon. Mr. Caterpillar has survived a number of attempts on his life, but thanks to skilled on-site emergency medical care, he is still -- thank heavens -- very much with with us. I think I've reported on this before, but if Bailey sees the camera come out, he figures he's supposed to do something. (You know: "Lights, camera, action!") And, as you'll see, action he provided. Bailey went from snoozing next to Mr. Caterpillar to a "here-let-me-show-you-how-much-I-love-him" exhibition:
Cindy took these photos the other morning over at Widget's House. About 8 a.m. she had let all the dogs out (now we know who let the dogs out, eh?) and minutes later most of them were right back on the porch, settled in on the various cots to catch the morning sun. That's blind Brody above.
The porch faces to the south and is 12 feet (3.6 m) deep and 32 feet (9.7 m) wide, and when that sun comes up over the horizon in the southeast, it fills this big open space with wonderful warmth. Particularly on an otherwise brisk fall morning, the dogs just love it.
Here's Travis, our boy with the fused jaw, a few feet away from Brody:
