I had a terrible day yesterday. It's always terrible when mom has to go work at her office for the day. Normally, she works from home, which is great because at lunch I get to go outside and go wild, which as you know, is what I do best. On those days when she has to go to her "big office" it means we are all crated for the day and it is a very, very long day when you are used to a mid-day break. By the time she got home, I was, as she says, "a wild coon with it's tail on fire." It makes my OCD even worse when I have to be crated for that long. Now, I don't mind being crated at night, because I am tired by then and need my beauty sleep, but I really hate it when mom works at her big office.
That leads up to the rest of my bad night. I don't know what I was thinking really. Have you ever done something you know might go badly, but you do it anyway? That was me. I went up on the stairs and for some reason that is still unexplainable, I decided to stick my head through the banister rails. Well, my head fit, so I thought why not try and go through them and walk onto moms nice oak hall table? There are interesting things up there, like a lamp, phone and a really expensive vase by someone called Raku. I was nearly successful in knocking that to the floor before mom grabbed it, but by then, I was securely stuck.
Now don't think I can't hear the laughter, I can. I have dog ears. Let me say, I was in a panic!! I couldn't go forward and I couldn't go backwards. I was crying and screaming, I wasn't hurt, just really scared. This is where mother's can be mean. As I am in this state of panic; my mother starts to laugh. Seriously? This is not a laughing matter from my perspective. I mean, I'm stuck in between two posts and my front feet are on a table; there is no humor in that. Thankfully, she gained enough composure to lift me up a little past the narrow part of the rails and that gave me enough room for her to pull me out.
I confess, I doubt I will ever try that move again.
- Gracie
Gracie
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Protocol
Today, I learned a new word, PROTOCOL. I didn't know what it meant, so I had to look it up. Let me say that is no easy task when you have paws. I found out that it means "a detailed plan of a scientific or medical experiment, treatment, or procedure." My first thought was that they were planning to cut open my cute little rat terrier head and go digging around in there looking for the loose wire. Thankfully, my foster mom explained it all to me. See, she read about a Tuft's Veterinary School study where they were studying dogs like me with OCD. She contacted them and after filling out 32 pages of questions on me and my odd behaviors, they sent her this "protocol" of what worked in their study. No cutting of the cute little rat terrier head required. Whew.
In this protocol, they are using a new drug called Namenda. My foster mom says it's a drug for people who have something called Alz-heim-ers. I didn't know what that was either, but rather than make me look up another word, my foster mom said it's a disease that mostly old people get where they can remember things from 50 years ago, but they can't remember things from last week or today; and they can't remember the names and faces of those who love them. How awful!! I can't imagine not knowing that my foster mom loves me. She tells me I'm a good girl; that I'm her sweetie and she pets the spot on my head that she calls "God's finger print." See I have this spot on the top of my head that looks like a big finger print; she says it's where God touched me to make me special. I would hate not being able to remember all those things. So back to the Namenda....apparently, OCD shares some of the same genetic markers as this Alzheimers and with something called Autism and in this study, dogs who got this drug improved by 25%; 50% and even 100%!!!!
Now, the downside is that this drug is very expensive. If I took it and it worked, it would be about $105 a month. My foster mom worries that no one will want to spend that kind of money on me; but she also fears not giving me a chance at a more normal life. What to do? She talked it over with rescue and they decided that it was at least worth a shot, so now we wait for my vet to read the protocol and decide what to do. My foster mom said she would worry about paying for it later if it worked and she'd look for donations to help me. She even called the company that makes it but a vet can't get samples because it's not FDA approved for dogs. Bummer.
What I like best about being here is that my foster mom doesn't yell at me or punish me. She knows I can't help what I do. She does get a little upset with my sisters when they pick on me and she wishes I would stop going potty in the house, but I am trying and I am getting better. I can go a week now before I get so busy and I forget to go outside. Sometimes I forget even when she takes me out every hour.
Last night I got to sleep in the bed with mom. All the other dogs were up there too, so it was a little crowded, but I found my spot, tight to mom, my nose in her ear. My life may not be perfect, but it's pretty close....
- Gracie
In this protocol, they are using a new drug called Namenda. My foster mom says it's a drug for people who have something called Alz-heim-ers. I didn't know what that was either, but rather than make me look up another word, my foster mom said it's a disease that mostly old people get where they can remember things from 50 years ago, but they can't remember things from last week or today; and they can't remember the names and faces of those who love them. How awful!! I can't imagine not knowing that my foster mom loves me. She tells me I'm a good girl; that I'm her sweetie and she pets the spot on my head that she calls "God's finger print." See I have this spot on the top of my head that looks like a big finger print; she says it's where God touched me to make me special. I would hate not being able to remember all those things. So back to the Namenda....apparently, OCD shares some of the same genetic markers as this Alzheimers and with something called Autism and in this study, dogs who got this drug improved by 25%; 50% and even 100%!!!!
Now, the downside is that this drug is very expensive. If I took it and it worked, it would be about $105 a month. My foster mom worries that no one will want to spend that kind of money on me; but she also fears not giving me a chance at a more normal life. What to do? She talked it over with rescue and they decided that it was at least worth a shot, so now we wait for my vet to read the protocol and decide what to do. My foster mom said she would worry about paying for it later if it worked and she'd look for donations to help me. She even called the company that makes it but a vet can't get samples because it's not FDA approved for dogs. Bummer.
What I like best about being here is that my foster mom doesn't yell at me or punish me. She knows I can't help what I do. She does get a little upset with my sisters when they pick on me and she wishes I would stop going potty in the house, but I am trying and I am getting better. I can go a week now before I get so busy and I forget to go outside. Sometimes I forget even when she takes me out every hour.
Last night I got to sleep in the bed with mom. All the other dogs were up there too, so it was a little crowded, but I found my spot, tight to mom, my nose in her ear. My life may not be perfect, but it's pretty close....
- Gracie
Friday, September 24, 2010
Let me introduce myself....
My name is Gracie. Racy Gracie to be exact. I'm a Rat Terrier, mixed with a little Bull Terrier. I can't be sure how old I am, but if I had to guess, I'm probably around 14 months old now.
I was found. I can't tell you how I came to wind up in that shelter in Arkansas, but there I was...in a cage and out of time. A nice woman from Rat Terrier ResQ (www.RatTerrierResQ.com) came to see me and thankfully, she sprung me before I got walked to some back room. I never found out what was in that room, but some of the dogs near my cage said when a dog went in there, they never came back out. I'd like to think there was a back door to the outside in there, but the way they said it, I don't think that was the case.
For two days I lived with this woman and a whole bunch of other rat terriers, who like me, had been sprung from shelters just like the one I had been in. Our story was all the same, all of us were "out of time." Now I'm not sure what "out of time" really means because I seem to have all the time in the world. Every day when I wake up, I have plenty of time to run and play. It's an odd phrase to say the least. After two days, I went on an airplane, some kind of flying car, to Wisconsin to a new lady. She was nice, but she said I was too hyper and took me to her vet. They gave me all kinds of pills. One day I could hardly focus; I was so tired, the next day I felt like I could leap tall buildings. After a few weeks of this, she said she couldn't cope with me and told the nice lady who got me out of the shelter that I had to go.
This is where my new mom came in. She met the other lady who had all the nasty pills and took me in a car for a long ride. When we stopped, it was at a place I recognized by the smell; another vets office. The nice lady vet was sweet to me and she and my new mom laid out all the pill bottles that came with me. I could tell they were really unhappy. They said they had to "flush my system" and I got a needle in my paw with a big bag of fluid attached. I pee'd and pee'd all over that vets floor. Hey, you try holding that much water. No one was mad though, they all loved on me and home we went.
I got two sister ratties, Darby (she is bossy) and Baby (she's bossy in a sneaky way) and a brother rattie named Murphy. Murphy is old, but he's my favorite. I like to try and kiss him. I had a big backyard to run in and lots of toys and boy, did I run. I ran and ran and ran. My new mom watched me for a couple days and knew something was wrong. See, I didn't know it, but I always ran in a counter-clockwise circle, in always the same pattern. Sometimes I would spin and then continue to run and sometimes I would kick off the side of the house and continue to run. After a couple days, I went back to the vet.
I have something they call OCD - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It's because my brain is wired funny. It makes me do the same thing over and over, and I can't make myself stop; even when I am exhausted. I also shadow watch and fly-snap. Shadow watching means I look at the wall or ceiling at something that isn't there. It's kinds of funny, because my mom looks to see what I'm looking at even though she knows it's nothing. Silly humans. Fly-snapping means I pretend to try and catch flies that aren't there. I do both of these things a lot. I can't help it.
I've been on a medication called Prozac and it stopped my circle running. I'm glad because I would get so tired and I would want to lay down, but I just couldn't. Now I can sleep, chew on rawhides and lay in bed with my mom at night. I like that. I hated having sore feet and tired legs. I get some Xanax too which helps my other problems a little, but we're still working on that.
Now you know all about me. Check in often to hear how I'm doing as I search for my forever home. After six months here, that is still eluding me.
Gracie
I was found. I can't tell you how I came to wind up in that shelter in Arkansas, but there I was...in a cage and out of time. A nice woman from Rat Terrier ResQ (www.RatTerrierResQ.com) came to see me and thankfully, she sprung me before I got walked to some back room. I never found out what was in that room, but some of the dogs near my cage said when a dog went in there, they never came back out. I'd like to think there was a back door to the outside in there, but the way they said it, I don't think that was the case.
For two days I lived with this woman and a whole bunch of other rat terriers, who like me, had been sprung from shelters just like the one I had been in. Our story was all the same, all of us were "out of time." Now I'm not sure what "out of time" really means because I seem to have all the time in the world. Every day when I wake up, I have plenty of time to run and play. It's an odd phrase to say the least. After two days, I went on an airplane, some kind of flying car, to Wisconsin to a new lady. She was nice, but she said I was too hyper and took me to her vet. They gave me all kinds of pills. One day I could hardly focus; I was so tired, the next day I felt like I could leap tall buildings. After a few weeks of this, she said she couldn't cope with me and told the nice lady who got me out of the shelter that I had to go.
This is where my new mom came in. She met the other lady who had all the nasty pills and took me in a car for a long ride. When we stopped, it was at a place I recognized by the smell; another vets office. The nice lady vet was sweet to me and she and my new mom laid out all the pill bottles that came with me. I could tell they were really unhappy. They said they had to "flush my system" and I got a needle in my paw with a big bag of fluid attached. I pee'd and pee'd all over that vets floor. Hey, you try holding that much water. No one was mad though, they all loved on me and home we went.
I got two sister ratties, Darby (she is bossy) and Baby (she's bossy in a sneaky way) and a brother rattie named Murphy. Murphy is old, but he's my favorite. I like to try and kiss him. I had a big backyard to run in and lots of toys and boy, did I run. I ran and ran and ran. My new mom watched me for a couple days and knew something was wrong. See, I didn't know it, but I always ran in a counter-clockwise circle, in always the same pattern. Sometimes I would spin and then continue to run and sometimes I would kick off the side of the house and continue to run. After a couple days, I went back to the vet.
I have something they call OCD - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It's because my brain is wired funny. It makes me do the same thing over and over, and I can't make myself stop; even when I am exhausted. I also shadow watch and fly-snap. Shadow watching means I look at the wall or ceiling at something that isn't there. It's kinds of funny, because my mom looks to see what I'm looking at even though she knows it's nothing. Silly humans. Fly-snapping means I pretend to try and catch flies that aren't there. I do both of these things a lot. I can't help it.
I've been on a medication called Prozac and it stopped my circle running. I'm glad because I would get so tired and I would want to lay down, but I just couldn't. Now I can sleep, chew on rawhides and lay in bed with my mom at night. I like that. I hated having sore feet and tired legs. I get some Xanax too which helps my other problems a little, but we're still working on that.
Now you know all about me. Check in often to hear how I'm doing as I search for my forever home. After six months here, that is still eluding me.
Gracie
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