Lucy at Ten

About three months ago, our 10-year-old Lab, Lucy, was diagnosed with diabetes.

Brian and I were surprised by this diagnosis, because up until a few days before we took Lucy to the vet, she seemed to be in relatively good health.

The only clue that something was amiss: a sudden onset of incontinence at night.

According to Lucy's veterinarian, her pancreas just stopped working.

In the weeks that followed the diagnosis, Lucy visited the vet's office quite frequently, so the doctor could monitor her blood sugar levels and try to determine how much insulin she needed.

At first, Lucy was really lethargic. She slept A LOT and rarely barked at much of anything.

One time when Lucy spent the whole day at the vet's office, Brian picked Lucy up in the evening and the doctor raved about what a perfect angel she was. The vet said, "She was so mellow and easygoing and didn't bark much at all."  

Fast forward three weeks and Lucy returned to the vet for another full day of monitoring.

This time, she was not nearly as mellow or lethargic.  In fact, the vet said she barked so much that it was driving her crazy.

That's the Lucy I know, I thought. She's back! Clearly, giving her 16 units of insulin twice daily was working.

Since late October, Brian or I have been administering insulin injections, approximately 12 hours apart.

At first, I was super nervous about giving Lucy her insulin.  I don't like receiving shots, let alone giving them. My paramedic hubby was very patient with me, showing me how to roll the bottle of insulin between my palms, how to fill the syringe with insulin, how to pull up Lucy's skin, and how to properly inject the insulin.

It sounds long and drawn out, but it takes only seconds to do it.

Now, with over 100 injections under my belt, I'm not fazed by it.  It's just part of life.

Part of our new normal.

Noah loves watching me give Lucy her insulin. He sits on the rug nearby and after I give Lucy her "medicine", I say, "Good girl!" and he repeats, "Good girl!"

Noah has watched me give so many injections that I think at this point, he could give Lucy her injections. Ha!

The other day, Noah was standing in our family room next to Rudy, our other dog. Noah had a small flashlight in one hand, and he had a handful of Rudy's fur in his other hand. He "poked" the flashlight into Rudy's back and said, "Shot. Good girl!" He flashed me a smile and I grinned.

Granted, he got the wrong dog--the one who doesn't have diabetes--but his intentions were good.

One night, as I fed Lucy and administered her insulin--with Noah watching nearby--that old saying, "If dogs could talk..." came to mind.

I contemplated what Lucy might be thinking now that she's slowing down considerably, now that she eats special high-fiber dog food, now that she has me (or Brian) poking her with needles twice a day. 

If Lucy could talk, here's what I think she would say:

Darn, I'm gettin' old.

This arthritis stuff stinks. I can't run anymore. And I walk super slow. 

What is this dog food? It tastes like cardboard. I want my old dog food back.

Not this place again. (The vet) I want to go home.

Getting old *really* stinks.

 I love naps.

Why do I have to poop so often? Must be that darn dog food.  

Mom's alarm is going off!  That means it's time to eat!

Eating twice a day instead of once...woohoo!

So glad I'm not peeing in the house anymore--that was downright embarrassing.

Stop it, Rudy!  You're so annoying. Icksnay with the eye licking, okay?

Aahh...canned food again! I remember this from my puppy days.

I love when that little boy who they call Noah says, "Hey, Luce!" with a big grin on his face.  Makes my day, I tell ya!

As I was writing this list, I chuckled, thinking that at 70 years old (Lucy's age in dog years), I may be thinking and uttering some of these same sentiments.  Ha!

Despite her age and her diabetes diagnosis, Lucy is doing well. But I don't know how many more days she has left with us. Because of this, I find myself petting her more frequently, reminding myself to be patient with her as she walks *very* slowly from place-to-place, and watching her more and more as she interacts with Noah.

Prior to me snapping the iPhone photo above, taken just days after Lucy was diagnosed with diabetes, Noah had gently placed his Pooh blanket and his "nigh-nigh" on Lucy, and then laid down near her on his bedroom floor. 

We had told Noah that Lucy was sick, so this sweet gesture was (and still is) all the more touching. A little love from our first son to our first dog.

It will always be one of my favorite memories of the two of them.

Christmas Letter | 2013

 Photo Credit: Mindy Newton Photography

Hi!

It’s Noah here, with an update on our family.

2013 has been a really fun year—for Dada, Mama, and especially me.

 Photo Credit: Mindy Newton Photography

The three of us went camping twice in our trailer—once near Foresthill where Dada spotted a bear in a tree—and the other time, in the Bodega Sand Dunes, where I played in the warm sand and the ocean. 

We also visited Lake Tahoe twice, once in the winter and once in the summer. In February, we snowshoed with our neighbors; their son’s name is Aaron and he’s about my age.  He calls me “Nona” and I love going for hikes with him. In August, we spent the day at Meeks Bay, but the water was so c-c-c-c-old that I didn’t want to go in. Dada buried the lower half of my body in the sand, and then drove a tractor around my feet.  I thought that was so funny!    

We also hit the zoo (where I loved watching the little monkeys), and the county fair (where I got to sit on a tractor), and a miniature indoor city called BusyKidz (where I vacuumed, weighed fruit, and talked on the telephone). 

About a month ago, I flew on an airplane to Texas. Auntie Katie (TT) and Uncle Preston got married, and Auntie TT looked so beautiful in her wedding dress. I wore a tuxedo, and everyone kept saying how cute I looked.  (Being cute is a good thing, right?) At the reception, there was a guy playing a guitar (gee-tar), and I sat down right in front of him and watched him play. Uncle Preston’s sister, Noelle, also played a guitar and sang really pretty.  

 Photo Credit: Mindy Newton Photography

Mama, Dada, and I have a lot of fun at home, too. Mama stays home with me, and in the mornings, we go to the library to play with puzzles or to gymnastics where I slide down into the foam pit (wee!) or to the park where I play in the sandbox and go down the slides (more weeing!).

Mama sings to me, and I sing along sometimes, too.  One of my favorite songs right now is "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."  You know that part where Santa says, “Ho! Ho! Ho!”?  I pretend to be Santa and sing those words.  

 Photo Credit: Mindy Newton Photography

Daddy works at the fire station and I miss him when he’s gone.  I say, “Dada?” and Mama tells me he is at the station. Then, I say, “Woo, woo?” and Mama responds, “Yes, Dada drives the fire engine.” When we visit Dada at the station, he hoists me up into the driver's seat and I hold on to the steering wheel.  It's the best!  I don't want to leave.  Ever.  When Mama says it’s time to go, I cry and cry. 

But then, when I hear Dada’s truck come up the driveway, I run to the window and Mama lifts me up onto the windowsill. Dada steps out of his truck and I wave and say “Hi! Hi! Hi!” with the biggest grin on my face.

Dada makes me the best shakes--always with frozen blueberries (my favorite)—and the best pancakes with oatmeal and bananas.  Dada also pushes me around on my outside trike, taking me for walks in the neighborhood. Going for rides in Dada’s truck is fun, too.      

My doggies, Lucy (Luce) and Rudy (D), are the best!  Lucy just turned 10 and Rudy is 8 now.  Mama and Dada give Luce two shots a day because she has diabetes (tees).  I sit on the rug nearby and watch.  Mama always says, “Good girl!” to Lucy when she’s done, and I say, “Good girl!” too.        

I also say "Oh, no!" a lot.  Like when I drop my fork off the dining room table.  Or when I put my foot in the dogs’ water bowl.  Or when I accidentally throw an iPhone into the bath tub.    

My other favorite words are: cool and okay and please (pwease) and thank you (ank-you) and football (b-ball) and helicopter (copter).  And, of course, guitar (gee-tar or tar).  I'm obsessed with guitars. In fact, I’m really hoping Santa will bring me one for Christmas! 

In addition to being a guitar nut, I have a thing for vehicles…you know, trains (choo-choo) and trucks and tractors.  Pretty much anything that goes.  Oh, and my trike.  I ride it as fast as I can around the house: Through the kitchen and around into the living room, then whizzing past the sofas in the family room and zooming into the dining room.  Dada calls them hot laps.  Don’t worry, though, I wear a big football hat (a gold Notre Dame helmet) when I ride to protect my brain (ain).   

Mama, Dada and I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Love,

Noah

(Age: Almost 2)

Around Here

Reading Me Ra Koh's new book, Your Child in Pictures.
As I mentioned in this post, I met Me Ra Koh at the Click Blogger Retreat in October.  When I returned home from Texas last week, I was surprised to receive a package with Me Ra's new book inside.  Talk about exciting!  But wait, it gets even better.  When I opened the book, I discovered that Me Ra wrote a sweet message inside, just for me.  Thanks, Me Ra!

Watching Call the Midwife: Season One, which I borrowed from the Sacramento Library.

Writing an article about animal communication for my children's writing course.  Who knew that bees could dance?!   

Praying.
  
Celebrating winning a $100 Amex gift card!  I filled out a quick survey about the Click retreat, and voila, I won some money.  A big thanks to Todaysmama.com!  

Editing photographs from our trip to Texas.

Drafting another blog post about adoption.  

Loving the fall foliage.

Adjusting back to California time, coupled with Daylight Savings Time.  Early to bed, early to rise.

Administering twice daily insulin shots to Lucy, our nearly 10-year-old Lab.

Thinking about the holidays.

Counting my blessings. 

Week in the Life 2013 | Wednesday

Well, here we are on Day 3 of my Week in the Life project and I'm really enjoying myself.  

I'm enjoying shooting with my big camera. 

I'm enjoying writing down the little everyday details of our life.

I'm enjoying how this project is pushing me to efficiently select and edit my favorite photos each night.  I'm finding that less time means less indecision.  Fewer photos to sort through helps, too.     

Here's a look at my Wednesday photos:

 Petting Lucy first thing in the morning.

 

Playing in the foam pit at a local gymnastics center.  

Participating in the 9-11 Stair Climb in downtown Sacramento.  Brian and his good friend, Pete, along with 341 other firefighters climbed 110 stories in honor of the 343 firefighters who lost their lives on September 11, 2001.  {Photo taken with Brian's iPhone.}

May we never forget.  {Photo also taken with Brian's iPhone.}

Ringing the bell on his trike.  Over and over and over again.

Napping for 2+ hours.  Woo-hoo!  

Gazing at two does in our front yard. 

Running 3.5 miles on the treadmill, while watching Keeping the Faith--a funny movie I hadn't seen in ages.   

Enjoying leftovers for dinner.  Sausage and rice for Noah and me, burritos for Brian, and salad all around.  Noah still adores Ranch, but tonight he wanted his lettuce drenched in Thousand Island dressing. 

Walking to the newspaper bin and mailbox.  Noah loves riding his new trike.  And, although you can't see it from this angle, the trike has an awesome handle, so we can push Noah around until he learns to pedal it by himself. 

How was your Wednesday? 

Oh, Deer!

Photo Source

Having lived in the country for three years now, I've grown accustomed to seeing deer pass through our yard.  I love watching these gentle creatures eat and drink and rest.  For some reason, this spring and summer, there have been more deer in our area than in past years.

Most of the time, I see one or two does at a time.  They drink from the creek in the meadow.  They munch on grass on the hillside.  Several of them like to lay in the shade below our house.

Seeing a buck is rare, but recently, one buck has started coming around.  I wondered why, until we discovered that Mr. Buck loves eating bird seed from the feeder outside our front door.  Naturally, our dog, Lucy, is not happy about this; she lunges at the window and barks up a storm when he visits. 

But I love it.  Seeing does and bucks is such a treat. 

And last week, I was treated to a surprise. 

While Noah was napping one afternoon, I took the dogs out to go to the bathroom.  Usually, if I'm going out for the evening (say to the fire station or a friends' house), I'll run the dogs out to their yard and lock the gate.  But it was so darn hot that I just took them out to the front yard for a few minutes with the intent of walking them back into the house.

As I was stood in the driveway watching the dogs, I saw some movement in the dog yard. 

What's in there?  I thought.

I looked closer.

Is it a fox?  A skunk?  A dog?  

Then, I saw the spindly legs, the white spots, the big ears.   

Oh my gosh, it's a fawn!!

For several seconds, I got caught up in the excitement of seeing such a little deer close up. 

Then, my mama/animal lover instincts kicked in: Protect the baby.

I yelled to the dogs, "In the house.  Right now."

Amazingly, without hesitation, Lucy and Rudy turned and ran into the garage, never seeing the fawn.  (Clearly, God had a hand in that because usually they do not react to my commands so quickly.)

Now that the dogs were in the house, I could observe the fawn--from a distance, of course.

The little one ran straight into the wire fence, bounced off of it and then ran into it again.

After several failed attempts, she skittered along the perimeter of the fence, hoping to find a way out.

The fawn looked so frightened.

So little.

 So lost. 

The gate was open slightly--which is how she got in--but clearly, she was having trouble finding her way back to it.

I tried to decide what to do.  I didn't have much time as I was supposed to leave for dinner at the fire station in 20 minutes.  Noah was still asleep, but he'd be waking up from his nap anytime.

Let's open the gate all the way, I thought.

I walked toward the gate, looking around for any sign of the fawn's mom.  No sign of mom.  The fawn stopped running and looked straight at me, then turned around and ran away.  

I pulled open the gate and retreated to the garage.  There, I ruminated over what more I could do to help.  I remembered seeing a flyer for a fawn rescue in our area.  I googled Fawn Rescue + Placer County and the website for Kindred Spirits Fawn Rescue popped up.

I called the number and after a brief conversation, I was advised to: Open the gate.  Check.  Leave the fawn alone.  Check.  According to the woman at Kindred Spirits, the fawn would probably find her way out of the yard, and be reunited with her mom.  "If she's still in the dog yard at 8:00 p.m. (it was 4:30 then), call me back," said the woman.  Copy check.  

I hung up the phone and headed inside to get Noah up from his nap. 

By the time I came back out front 15 minutes later, the dog yard was empty.  There was no sign of the fawn.

Oh, good, I thought, relieved.  She found her way out.

But on the drive down to the fire station, I started wondering, "Did the fawn's mom find her?  Were they reunited?  Or is the fawn out wandering around looking for her?"

Fast forward to the next day: Noah and I were walking down the road to pick up our trash can.  As we turned from our street onto the main road, I glanced off to the left looking for oncoming cars.  There, I spotted a doe and her fawn crossing the road.  Presumably, the same fawn who found her way into our dog yard and then out of our dog yard.

I smiled.

"Look," I said to Noah, kneeling down next to his blue car and pointing toward the deer.  "Mama and baby are together again...just as it should be."

Then and Now

May 4, 2010
OBSERVATIONS: Our family of four out for a walk in our new neighborhood.  I find it funny that I'm wearing a long-sleeved shirt, vest, and jeans--while Brian is wearing a t-shirt and shorts.  (It's still that way--generally, I'm cold and he's hot.)  Photo taken with my Nikon D90.  

April 14, 2013
OBSERVATIONS: Nearly three years later.  Our family of five (Noah is 15 months old) out for a stroll before dinner.  Noah loves "driving" his blue car, honking the horn, and dropping the steering wheel out of the car.  This time, Brian, Noah and I were all on the same page, wearing short-sleeved shirts and blue jeans.  Photo taken with my Nikon D700.   

I'm looking forward to snapping more family photos--in this same place, at the same time of year--in the years to come. 

Still

Last weekend, Brian and I watched the movie, Marley and Me.  I'd previously seen the movie in the theater, but Brian had never viewed it.

Both times I watched the movie, I thought of our Labrador retriever, Lucy (in her puppy days above).  Even though Lucy and Marley look alike--both being yellow Labs and all--Lucy is not nearly as naughty or neurotic as Marley was.

Lucy doesn't go bonkers when she hears thunder.  She's never chewed through drywall (coax cable, yes; drywall, no).  She's never eaten our couch or any of our jewelry.  And she's never jumped out of a car window.  (Thank goodness!) 

Still, there are days when she tests my patience.  

Like when she drinks out of the toilet, despite her water bowl being full.

Or goes rummaging through the laundry room garbage can, looking for Kleenex to devour.  (I finally got smart a few years ago and bought trash cans with lids for most of the rooms!)

Or rubs her body against our white bath towels. 

Or jumps on people when they come to visit.  (I swear it's her way of saying hello.)
 
Or wakes me up in the middle of the night with her snoring.  (In fact, I think the older she gets, the louder she snores.)

Or barks at everything.  It's particularly annoying in the evenings when Lucy starts barking loudly at a deer up on the hill and I'm trying to put Noah to bed.

Still, for all Lucy's idiosyncrasies, she's been a really good dog.  

Over the past six months, I've been particularly impressed with the way she's interacted with the newest member of our family, Noah.

Lucy loves to lick Noah's hands and feet. 

And Noah clearly likes it because he's all smiles. 

But in the past year or so, Brian and I have noticed Lucy is slowing down a bit.  She doesn't seem to hear as well as she used to.  She can't jump up into the bed of Brian's truck anymore.  She can't chase her ball for as long as she used to.

It's just a fact of life: she's getting older--like the rest of us.

Lucy is eight years old (she'll be nine in November), and I don't know how many more years she has with us.  But I think Noah will help keep her young.  He'll be walking around the house in another six months or so and I'm sure Lucy will want to be right there, by his side, wherever he goes.

And knowing Lucy, she'll probably accidentally knock him down a time or two.

But then she'll lick him and he'll laugh and they'll be buds again.

J

On the Banks of the River

This week, during spring break, I'm taking time to get caught up on some once-started, but never-completed blog posts.

Like this one, which contains photographs taken last summer on the banks of the Bear River.


When the temperature soars, we love to take the dogs down to the river, which is just five minutes from our house.


The funny thing is that Lucy, our purebred Lab, doesn't like water much.


She'll wade in if there's a tennis ball to catch, but swimming is another thing all together.


In fact, if the tennis ball drifts too far out into the river, she refuses to fetch it.

And she's a retriever!

By the way, in the picture above, Lucy slowly stepped toward the ball and grabbed it before it could sail further down the river.

Thank goodness, because I wasn't going in after it. :-)


Summer is just around the corner, and I can't wait to spend family time on the river banks, shooting additional silhouette pictures.

J