I am numb. It is five in the evening, Linda is preparing dinner and I’m not even hungry.
My mind is still trying to comprehend she is gone. Most of the evening, I have tears coming down my checks. Linda tries to console me. When we put Copper down twelve years ago, I cried carrying her from the vet’s office and throughout the time we buried her. She was a great dog, but she was really Jake’s dog and I didn’t have the same emotional attachment to her as I had with Tova.
Tova was my dog.
Two days later, her vet called me. “Joe, I want you to Google something. He spells it for me. After you do, call me back so we can talk.”
I log onto Google search and type in, “Cryptococcosis.”
My first reaction is, “Oh My God.”
In short form, Cryptococcosis is a fungal disease that affects the respiratory tract, eyes, skin and the central nervous systems of dogs. The fungus exists in the environment and in tissues in a yeast form. The fungus is found in soil and fowl droppings. Transmission is by inhalation of the spores or the contamination of open wounds. The infection first shows up as lesions on the lungs, facial regions, legs and cerebral cavities. It rapidly spreads to their central nervous system and eyes. Organs may be involved and if the brain is involved the dog will show signs of circling, behavior changes, accompanied by sneezing and coughing, and in some cases blindness. Tova showed some of these signs.
After sitting almost motionless in front of my monitor for a few minutes, I printed out what the Google report stated about fungal diseases. As painful as this was to digest, it made logical sense to me. Being a hunting dog, Tova frequently had her nose to the ground.
I called the vet. His office said he would call as soon as he was through with a patient.
Ten minutes later, he calls. “What did you find?”
“It’s hard to believe what I just read.”
“Joe, I’m sorry, I’ve never seen or heard of this before and neither has my associate or the internal medicine vet Tova saw. We are all shocked. I’ve been talking to all of my fellow vets and they’re never heard of anything like this. I’ve searched the internet since we put her down and just by accident I found this. I really believe this is what she picked up. She lasted fifteen months after contracting it because she was so healthy.”
He ends the conversation as sympathetically as he can. I still can’t believe a beautiful healthy dog died from some damn fungus from bird droppings.
My next concern is to call my vet in California who takes care of my horses on my daughter’s property. I’ve seen bird droppings dried on the corral rails before and I want to know if we could lose a horse.
When he gets the message he returns my call and says, he’s never heard of a case in California.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Tova A Very Special Dog entry submitted for an award
Yesterday, I filled out the registrartion and sent four copies of the soft cover book along with it to the 23rd annual Benjamin Franklin Awards program of the Independent Book Publishing Association. The book is being entered under the animals and pets category. There are over fifty categories. Each category will have a gold and two silver awards. Wish me luck, Joe.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Chapter Sixteen Problems
I ask, “What is happening to her? She can run, play and act normal most of the time but she is becoming disoriented when she lies still. It is like she is fearful.”
The reply is, “They believe something is destroying her immune system but they don’t know what.”
Friday night and Saturday night are terrible. She is up every four hours and I’m afraid to give her anymore pain medicine than I am already. I have been sleeping on the couch near her for a week now. My presence doesn’t seem to matter.
During the weekend I deliberately watch her walk up and down the stairs and noticed she is hitting the wall. At dinner time I tried to give her a scrap off of my plate to give her some enjoyment. She took it and acted like she didn’t have it and was looking for it.
I lifted her upper lip and found the piece of meat stuck between her lip on her left side and her upper gum. I could see she had no feeling on the upper left side of her mouth. She could not feel it was there in her mouth. Oh God, she is falling apart and we don’t know what to do for her. I feel so helpless.
After watching her throughout the weekend I decided to put her down. She is developing more and more problems and only getting worse. I love her too much to see her suffer like this.
On Monday morning, we walk around Dorr’s pond on our regular routine. The way she walks around the pond you would never know she is not feeling well. When the vet’s office opens at eight I make an appointment to put her down at 3:00.
We will have our regular walk around the pond once more before the appointment. The rest of the day is very trying for me. It is an internal conflict between my wanting her to survive and knowing she really isn’t going to get better.
The reply is, “They believe something is destroying her immune system but they don’t know what.”
Friday night and Saturday night are terrible. She is up every four hours and I’m afraid to give her anymore pain medicine than I am already. I have been sleeping on the couch near her for a week now. My presence doesn’t seem to matter.
During the weekend I deliberately watch her walk up and down the stairs and noticed she is hitting the wall. At dinner time I tried to give her a scrap off of my plate to give her some enjoyment. She took it and acted like she didn’t have it and was looking for it.
I lifted her upper lip and found the piece of meat stuck between her lip on her left side and her upper gum. I could see she had no feeling on the upper left side of her mouth. She could not feel it was there in her mouth. Oh God, she is falling apart and we don’t know what to do for her. I feel so helpless.
After watching her throughout the weekend I decided to put her down. She is developing more and more problems and only getting worse. I love her too much to see her suffer like this.
On Monday morning, we walk around Dorr’s pond on our regular routine. The way she walks around the pond you would never know she is not feeling well. When the vet’s office opens at eight I make an appointment to put her down at 3:00.
We will have our regular walk around the pond once more before the appointment. The rest of the day is very trying for me. It is an internal conflict between my wanting her to survive and knowing she really isn’t going to get better.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
An Appreciation Article Regarding The Gift of Sight
Sight is a precious gift. When you realize you are having sight problems, it can be traumatic. In the mid 1990’s, my local eye doctor told me I had genetic cornea problems in both eyes. He said he would monitor them and began seeing me every six months. Over the next few years my vision became cloudy in both eyes, and this was a detriment to my driving safely.
I was sent to the Concord Eye Care Center in Concord, NH. Dr. Gordon Hand examined me and told me the left eye should have an immediate cornea transplant and the right eye would also need one within a short period of time. On, January 9th, 1996, he did the left eye and on December 8th, 1998, he did the right eye. His expertise and care for his patients was above and beyond what I’ve previously experienced with any other doctor.
Those transplants gave me back my sight, and left me with a special appreciation about those who donate their organs for someone else to have a quality of life. Since that time I have an organ donor notation on my driver’s license.
This year, 2010, I again experienced vision problems. My eye doctor diagnosed cataracts. I made an appointment with Concord Eye Care.
I learned that Dr. Hand was retiring in two weeks and I would be seeing their new cornea specialist, Dr. James Goldman. Meeting Dr. Goldman for the first time was a surprise. I read his credentials before meeting him and when he first walked through the door I was surprised how young he looked, of course everyone looks younger when you’re my age.
Dr. Goldman agreed with my local doctor that my cataracts needed replacement. Unlike my genetic cornea problems, this was due to the aging process. He explained the process of surgery to me since it is a little more difficult having had previous cornea transplants.
Then he broke the news to me, the cornea transplant in the left eye was starting to decompose. He told me I have been fortunate to have mine for this length of time. He would do the cataracts and see if my left eye vision would improve with only the one surgery.
On February 25th, 2010, the right eye was done. The surgery was so successful that the vision I now have in that eye is 20/25 without glasses. On May 17th, 2010, the left eye was done. While the cataract surgery in the left eye was successful, the decomposition of the cells causes them to thicken the cornea surface, which doesn’t allow vision correction with glasses to be consistent.
I decided to go along with his recommendation of a partial cornea transplant for reasons that are too long to put into this article. September 2nd, 2010, he did the surgery. It was successful.
I always thought, Dr. Hand was one of a kind at Concord Eye Care. Dr. Goldman performed three surgeries on my eyes this year and for each one he made sure I understood everything and was very informed on what and how he would be doing the procedures. Dr. Hand hired the right man to replace himself.
I am writing this article in hopes it reaches out to those individuals living with impaired vision which could possibly lead to total loss of vision. With today’s technology that isn’t necessary. Remember, the key is always to find the right surgeon who has the expertise and trust them. This pertains to any surgery you might need. You must do your own homework.
I am fortunate my local eye doctor sent me to Concord Eye Care.
I was sent to the Concord Eye Care Center in Concord, NH. Dr. Gordon Hand examined me and told me the left eye should have an immediate cornea transplant and the right eye would also need one within a short period of time. On, January 9th, 1996, he did the left eye and on December 8th, 1998, he did the right eye. His expertise and care for his patients was above and beyond what I’ve previously experienced with any other doctor.
Those transplants gave me back my sight, and left me with a special appreciation about those who donate their organs for someone else to have a quality of life. Since that time I have an organ donor notation on my driver’s license.
This year, 2010, I again experienced vision problems. My eye doctor diagnosed cataracts. I made an appointment with Concord Eye Care.
I learned that Dr. Hand was retiring in two weeks and I would be seeing their new cornea specialist, Dr. James Goldman. Meeting Dr. Goldman for the first time was a surprise. I read his credentials before meeting him and when he first walked through the door I was surprised how young he looked, of course everyone looks younger when you’re my age.
Dr. Goldman agreed with my local doctor that my cataracts needed replacement. Unlike my genetic cornea problems, this was due to the aging process. He explained the process of surgery to me since it is a little more difficult having had previous cornea transplants.
Then he broke the news to me, the cornea transplant in the left eye was starting to decompose. He told me I have been fortunate to have mine for this length of time. He would do the cataracts and see if my left eye vision would improve with only the one surgery.
On February 25th, 2010, the right eye was done. The surgery was so successful that the vision I now have in that eye is 20/25 without glasses. On May 17th, 2010, the left eye was done. While the cataract surgery in the left eye was successful, the decomposition of the cells causes them to thicken the cornea surface, which doesn’t allow vision correction with glasses to be consistent.
I decided to go along with his recommendation of a partial cornea transplant for reasons that are too long to put into this article. September 2nd, 2010, he did the surgery. It was successful.
I always thought, Dr. Hand was one of a kind at Concord Eye Care. Dr. Goldman performed three surgeries on my eyes this year and for each one he made sure I understood everything and was very informed on what and how he would be doing the procedures. Dr. Hand hired the right man to replace himself.
I am writing this article in hopes it reaches out to those individuals living with impaired vision which could possibly lead to total loss of vision. With today’s technology that isn’t necessary. Remember, the key is always to find the right surgeon who has the expertise and trust them. This pertains to any surgery you might need. You must do your own homework.
I am fortunate my local eye doctor sent me to Concord Eye Care.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Chapter Fifteen 2006
For Linda, Tova and myself the year was our typical year. That is until early September a month before bird season.
I came home from my primary care physician’s office. As I walked in the front door Linda hollers out from her office, “Take a look at Tova’s head.”
I did exactly that and nearly had a canary. It looked like someone hit her on the left side of her head with a bat. It was shrunk in. Immediately, I called her vet and said I was bringing her in.
As soon as we walked through the door the doctor came out from another patient’s time and took one look at her skull. “Who hit her?” he asks.
“No one. She’s never out of our sight.”
He orders one of this technicians to give her an x-ray and goes back in to finish with his previous patient.
I wait while she is being x-rayed and the other staff members inquire what happened to her. None of us has ever seen anything like this on any dog before.
The doctor looks at the x-ray before he sees me. The technician brought Tova up from the lower level and she is just as spry as she always is. She doesn’t realize that she looks a little lop sided.
The vet comes out and tells me there is nothing wrong with her skull. He recommends that I take her to an internal medicine vet and makes an appointment for me that morning. His technician tells me there is no sign of any tumor on the x-ray. At least that is positive.
Tova and I head for home before going to the internal medicine vet’s office. Linda is anxiously waiting for some kind of word. All I can tell her is we really don’t know and she has another appointment in half an hour on the other side of town.
Tova and I head over to the internal medicine vet’s office. She is young and very perky. You can see how much she loves animals they way she handled Tova. She is going to do blood work, a CAT scan and some other tests that I really cannot remember four years later. What I do remember is she told me they would cost $1,200. So I suggest if you need to go to one you bring your credit card. I paid for the tests and told her to call with the results.
Two hours later she calls and said the blood work shows her liver readings were higher than a dog normally has. She is concerned if she put Tova under for a CAT scan she could have problems with the anesthesia and die. What she recommends we do is an ultra sound instead. I approve the change.
Other than the unusual blood work Tova cleared everything with flying colors. What the heck did she contract?
The next day, I spoke to our regular vet again and he said she is not showing any signs of problems because of her liver. Some dogs are known to have higher readings. I told him what I spent with the internal medicine doctor and still don’t have anything to make any intelligent decisions. I told him I would just wait and see how she is until we find something concrete to make good decisions. I just wanted her to have a good quality of life and at that point, we didn’t know what was going on because she was feeling pretty good.
I came home from my primary care physician’s office. As I walked in the front door Linda hollers out from her office, “Take a look at Tova’s head.”
I did exactly that and nearly had a canary. It looked like someone hit her on the left side of her head with a bat. It was shrunk in. Immediately, I called her vet and said I was bringing her in.
As soon as we walked through the door the doctor came out from another patient’s time and took one look at her skull. “Who hit her?” he asks.
“No one. She’s never out of our sight.”
He orders one of this technicians to give her an x-ray and goes back in to finish with his previous patient.
I wait while she is being x-rayed and the other staff members inquire what happened to her. None of us has ever seen anything like this on any dog before.
The doctor looks at the x-ray before he sees me. The technician brought Tova up from the lower level and she is just as spry as she always is. She doesn’t realize that she looks a little lop sided.
The vet comes out and tells me there is nothing wrong with her skull. He recommends that I take her to an internal medicine vet and makes an appointment for me that morning. His technician tells me there is no sign of any tumor on the x-ray. At least that is positive.
Tova and I head for home before going to the internal medicine vet’s office. Linda is anxiously waiting for some kind of word. All I can tell her is we really don’t know and she has another appointment in half an hour on the other side of town.
Tova and I head over to the internal medicine vet’s office. She is young and very perky. You can see how much she loves animals they way she handled Tova. She is going to do blood work, a CAT scan and some other tests that I really cannot remember four years later. What I do remember is she told me they would cost $1,200. So I suggest if you need to go to one you bring your credit card. I paid for the tests and told her to call with the results.
Two hours later she calls and said the blood work shows her liver readings were higher than a dog normally has. She is concerned if she put Tova under for a CAT scan she could have problems with the anesthesia and die. What she recommends we do is an ultra sound instead. I approve the change.
Other than the unusual blood work Tova cleared everything with flying colors. What the heck did she contract?
The next day, I spoke to our regular vet again and he said she is not showing any signs of problems because of her liver. Some dogs are known to have higher readings. I told him what I spent with the internal medicine doctor and still don’t have anything to make any intelligent decisions. I told him I would just wait and see how she is until we find something concrete to make good decisions. I just wanted her to have a good quality of life and at that point, we didn’t know what was going on because she was feeling pretty good.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Book Review of "Sarah's Key"
Sarah’s Key
By Tatiana de Rosnay
My wife finished the book Sarah’s Key and said, “You should read this.” She explained a bit about the book, I didn’t know if I was ready to read another book about the holocaust and the death camps. However, I did place my name on the reservation list at the city library. It took a couple of weeks before I was able to obtain it.
From the beginning of the book, I became captivated by Sarah’s tragic story and those of thousands of French Jews. I hadn’t felt this personally involved in a holocaust story since I read the diary of Anne Frank. While Anne’s is a true story, this fictional novel recreates the tragedy of what the French Vichy government tragically did on July 16th and 17th, 1942. With some of history’s most inhumane treatment over 13,000 Jewish men, women and children were rounded-up and stored in the Velodrome d’Hiver, an indoor cycle track. For days they had no toilet facilities, no food, no water, medical care or blankets before they arrived at their final destination, Auschwitz for adults and the children in camps elsewhere.
The story begins with the French police invading the homes of French Jews in the early morning hours of July 16th. The young girl, Sarah, is ten years old, frightened, she hides her four year old brother in their favorite hiding place. She expects that she will be able to come back and release him. As the families are taken from their apartments some neighbors try to plead for them while many make anti-Semitic comments or merely sneer at the victims as they are dragged from the safety of their homes.
This fictional novel is told from two sides, one being Sarah’s and the other being an American woman journalist, Julia Jarmond, married to a Frenchman. Her journalistic task is to obtain the facts of what happened so her Paris based American magazine can do a feature story for the 60th anniversary of the event.
The book is a heart-wrenching illustration of how a child in these circumstances must deal with survival and also the tremendous guilt she possessed for locking her brother in the storage space. She has no idea if he was rescued and fears the worst, to her, it is all her fault.
Meanwhile Julia is uncovering some of the deep sense of French guilt and why they choose not to admit how they were responsible for gathering over 13,000 people.
The plaques, in the area of the cycle track, spell out the round-up was by the Germans, negating any French responsibility.
This book is very compelling and a must read.
By Tatiana de Rosnay
My wife finished the book Sarah’s Key and said, “You should read this.” She explained a bit about the book, I didn’t know if I was ready to read another book about the holocaust and the death camps. However, I did place my name on the reservation list at the city library. It took a couple of weeks before I was able to obtain it.
From the beginning of the book, I became captivated by Sarah’s tragic story and those of thousands of French Jews. I hadn’t felt this personally involved in a holocaust story since I read the diary of Anne Frank. While Anne’s is a true story, this fictional novel recreates the tragedy of what the French Vichy government tragically did on July 16th and 17th, 1942. With some of history’s most inhumane treatment over 13,000 Jewish men, women and children were rounded-up and stored in the Velodrome d’Hiver, an indoor cycle track. For days they had no toilet facilities, no food, no water, medical care or blankets before they arrived at their final destination, Auschwitz for adults and the children in camps elsewhere.
The story begins with the French police invading the homes of French Jews in the early morning hours of July 16th. The young girl, Sarah, is ten years old, frightened, she hides her four year old brother in their favorite hiding place. She expects that she will be able to come back and release him. As the families are taken from their apartments some neighbors try to plead for them while many make anti-Semitic comments or merely sneer at the victims as they are dragged from the safety of their homes.
This fictional novel is told from two sides, one being Sarah’s and the other being an American woman journalist, Julia Jarmond, married to a Frenchman. Her journalistic task is to obtain the facts of what happened so her Paris based American magazine can do a feature story for the 60th anniversary of the event.
The book is a heart-wrenching illustration of how a child in these circumstances must deal with survival and also the tremendous guilt she possessed for locking her brother in the storage space. She has no idea if he was rescued and fears the worst, to her, it is all her fault.
Meanwhile Julia is uncovering some of the deep sense of French guilt and why they choose not to admit how they were responsible for gathering over 13,000 people.
The plaques, in the area of the cycle track, spell out the round-up was by the Germans, negating any French responsibility.
This book is very compelling and a must read.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Chapter Fourteen Thanksgiving Day Hunt
Tova and I left home around 8:30. It would take us close to an hour to get to the farm in Contoocook where I wanted to go.
Arriving in Hopkinton the town before Contoocook, she realizes where we are heading and starts whining and pacing back and forth because she is excited.
“Only about ten more minutes, girl.”
We pull off onto the farm’s property and park in the area on the left hand side just off from the road. I get my gear on and place my unloaded shotgun on the roof of the Suburban. Tova is already decked out in her orange vest and her electronic collar which is not operating yet. All I have to do is put on her bell collar and start her collar functioning. She is squirming around to get out of the truck and get going.
Hurry up, Dad. I can’t wait to get out there.
“Hold it girl, just give me a minute.”
When she is on the ground I energize her collar and pull my shotgun off of the roof to load it.
There is a patch of low grass we must cross before we get to the first large field. We see all of the corn is cut; hopefully, we can pull a bird or two out of the gullies between the two fields ahead of us.
Tova is about ten yards off to my right and we are about halfway across the grass patch when a hen pheasant comes up right in front of her. The bird flies directly over her head and starts heading towards the car and the other side of the road. Tova is not far behind her.
At this point, I am swinging my gun around in the direction of the farmhouse about one hundred fifty yards away but will not fire. My next concern is my dog chasing that damn bird across the road and possibly getting hit by a car.
I call her a couple of times and she is oblivious to my commands because she is so focused on the bird.
I also whistle trained her over the years and always relied on the whistle before I used the electronic collar.
I gave on good loud long blast on the whistle and she stopped in her tracks. The bird keeps going but I didn’t care. What was more important is my dog’s safety.
I called her back. She took another look at the bird flying away and resigned herself that I wanted her with me and headed back.
When she got back I told her she was a good girl and wanted her to feel she was okay with what she did.
But, she got away. Maybe I could have got her if she came down.
We turned back to the fields and walked about another ten yards and the strangest thing happened in all of my years of pheasant hunting.
A large rooster came up in front of us and headed towards the field. He was an easy shot. Tova was pleased we got him after all of the running she put in to chase the hen.
You could see the joy in her eyes as she handed the bird to me.
Okay, dad let’s go get more.
I couldn’t believe that bird stayed still there all the time I was shouting for Tova and blowing my whistle for her to return. It must have realized how close we were but never tried to take off or run off while I was busy trying to retrieve Tova.
Those two were the only birds we saw that morning. At least we were coming home with one and a good story to tell.
Arriving in Hopkinton the town before Contoocook, she realizes where we are heading and starts whining and pacing back and forth because she is excited.
“Only about ten more minutes, girl.”
We pull off onto the farm’s property and park in the area on the left hand side just off from the road. I get my gear on and place my unloaded shotgun on the roof of the Suburban. Tova is already decked out in her orange vest and her electronic collar which is not operating yet. All I have to do is put on her bell collar and start her collar functioning. She is squirming around to get out of the truck and get going.
Hurry up, Dad. I can’t wait to get out there.
“Hold it girl, just give me a minute.”
When she is on the ground I energize her collar and pull my shotgun off of the roof to load it.
There is a patch of low grass we must cross before we get to the first large field. We see all of the corn is cut; hopefully, we can pull a bird or two out of the gullies between the two fields ahead of us.
Tova is about ten yards off to my right and we are about halfway across the grass patch when a hen pheasant comes up right in front of her. The bird flies directly over her head and starts heading towards the car and the other side of the road. Tova is not far behind her.
At this point, I am swinging my gun around in the direction of the farmhouse about one hundred fifty yards away but will not fire. My next concern is my dog chasing that damn bird across the road and possibly getting hit by a car.
I call her a couple of times and she is oblivious to my commands because she is so focused on the bird.
I also whistle trained her over the years and always relied on the whistle before I used the electronic collar.
I gave on good loud long blast on the whistle and she stopped in her tracks. The bird keeps going but I didn’t care. What was more important is my dog’s safety.
I called her back. She took another look at the bird flying away and resigned herself that I wanted her with me and headed back.
When she got back I told her she was a good girl and wanted her to feel she was okay with what she did.
But, she got away. Maybe I could have got her if she came down.
We turned back to the fields and walked about another ten yards and the strangest thing happened in all of my years of pheasant hunting.
A large rooster came up in front of us and headed towards the field. He was an easy shot. Tova was pleased we got him after all of the running she put in to chase the hen.
You could see the joy in her eyes as she handed the bird to me.
Okay, dad let’s go get more.
I couldn’t believe that bird stayed still there all the time I was shouting for Tova and blowing my whistle for her to return. It must have realized how close we were but never tried to take off or run off while I was busy trying to retrieve Tova.
Those two were the only birds we saw that morning. At least we were coming home with one and a good story to tell.
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