Sweet Sophie: The End of Our Sheepdog Lives

Dear George,

Our Old English Sheepdog era has come to its end.  We lost Mike and Duffy over a year ago, but we’ve been lucky to still have had regular doggie time with their younger sister Sophie (owned by our friend Donna).  The three dogs were a pack throughout their lives, going on frequent outings to Miami Whitewater Forest and elsewhere, and Sophie has been a regular visitor to our house since puppyhood.  Donna called me last Saturday (March 11) to see if I were available to help take Sophie to the vet.  Sophie hadn’t eaten for three or four days, had drunk very little, had diarrhea, and was very lethargic.  The vet suggested that she was approaching her life’s end, and Donna made the hard decision to have her euthanized.  Lot of tears.

Donna asked what was special about March 11, Sophie’s last day, and the one thing I thought of was that the annual St. Patrick’s Day parade was going on in downtown Cincinnati.  When I googled St. Patrick a little later, it turned out that he had been kidnapped by pirates as a teenager and had spent six years as a sheepherder.  There are dozens of greeting cards with St. Patrick and his Old English Sheepdog on the Web.  The next day I joined Donna for a hike in Eden Park because we always took the dogs there each spring to see the magnolias in bloom.  The temperature had dropped to nineteen on the night that Sophie died, and all the magnolia blossoms had died as a consequence.  It felt as though the magnolia gods were also grieving.  

Sophie was a great pleasure to Donna and to everyone else she came in contact with.  She was a very smart dog, very loving, playful, and loyal.  She adored Donna, and she felt at home at our house too.  Sophie stayed with us every now and then when Donna made family trips to Nashville, and it has always been a treat to have her in the house.  Our experiences with sheepdogs will stick in our memories forevermore.  Here are a few pics from the last several years which are reminders of Sophie’s many looks.

Love,

Dave

2016: Year's End (A Bit Belated)

Dear George,

Aside from various national and international catastrophes, we had an up and down year in 2016 in our household.  The most memorable event occurred in early April when a pipe burst in our second-floor bathroom while we were out for the day and flooded our kitchen, dining room, and half of our basement.  Fortunately our insurance covered the $40 thousand restoration costs, but it took a full six months from start to finish and was thoroughly stressful.  We emptied the first floor of our house and lived like captives on the second floor.  We have been back to normal for several months, but it left us with an unpleasant feeling of vulnerability.  

This also was the first year that we’ve been without our beloved sheepdogs, Mike and Duffy.  I’d say we’ve gotten past the grieving stage, but the loss of the dogs has left a big hole in our lives.  They were a great source of pleasure and affection, and they were an important emotional focus that Katja and I shared with one another.  When the vet’s office called to offer us a pair of labradoodles, our hearts skipped a beat, but then we thought better of it.   

One of the year’s highlights was our early August trip to a family get-together at my parents’ Farm in Birch Creek (just north of Menominee).  Our son J, daughter-in-law K, and grandkids L and V had flown up from New Orleans, and our niece Jessica had brought her one-year-old twins, Maya and Peter, up from Detroit.  The Seattle contingent included Greg, who manages Farm, and Jennifer and Win and their sweet kids, Vincent (13) and Ingrid (9).  Our cousins, Ann and John B., who live in the Twin Cities, also joined us several times.  Katja and I stayed at Bob and Lois A.’s wonderful house on the Green Bay shore.  As always, our visit to Menominee had a comfortable, nostalgic feeling.  We enjoyed meals at Schloegels, Jozwiak’s, The Waterfront, the Rail House, Culver’s, and the Wild North Tavern, as well as an enjoyable visit to the DeYoung Family Zoo in nearby Wallace.  

Much to my surprise, Katja said she’d like to take a camping trip through the Upper Peninsula after our Menominee visit, and we headed up for Munising where we enjoyed the Pictured Rocks sunset cruise (highly recommended).  We followed that up with a boat trip through the Soo Locks at Sault Ste. Marie.  After a stint in St. Ignace and a trip across the Mackinac Bridge, we drove down the Lake Michigan — Petoskey, Charlevoix, Traverse City, Manistee, Muskegon, and others.  We’ve done that trip several times in recent years, and it’s always a treat.  Katja was a hardy camper, even though her air mattress kept going flat.  

I had bought a pair of hearing aids at the big box store just before leaving for Menominee, and, just my luck, I lost one in the forest on our first day of camping.  Because the store guaranteed one free replacement, it wasn’t a complete disaster, but it left me feeling nervous and guilty.  I’m not a completely enthusiastic user.  According to available research, they correct about 25% of hearing loss (but that leaves an annoying 75% to struggle with).  Katja had nagged me for several years to get hearing aids, and one of their best benefits is that they reduce about 80% of spousal complaining.  

Katja and I have reached an age where hearing losses are among the more manageable health disasters possible.  Two of my friends from work died in 2016, as did several of my high school classmates, and too many of our friends and acquaintances have struggled with dire, distressing health problems.  We have been fortunate to date, but I keep my fingers crossed and spend more time at the fitness center than I otherwise would.

For me, the worst part of 2016 was Trump’s nomination, election, and post-election actions.  We’d followed the primary season closely, and I was initially pleased with Trump’s selection since it seemed to guarantee a Hillary Clinton victory.  That, of course, didn’t work out.  My personal (admittedly subjective) opinion is that Trump has irretrievably damaged America’s standing in the world in his first two weeks, and it’s difficult to project how much more destruction he’ll cause.  My worst fantasy is that I’ll spend the remainder of my life in complete misery from a Trump presidency.  

On a cheerier note, we celebrated Xmas with our friends the Minkarahs and then flew down to New Orleans to join our family.  Our grandchildren turned eight in September and are wonderful kids, bright and spirited.  I can’t think of a happier way to wind up the year.  

Katja and I did a number of OLLI classes in 2016, my favorite being poetry writing.  We celebrated birthday dinners at the Chart House and Jean Robert’s Table.  We’ve taken in lots of music (symphony, opera, chamber music, musical theater) and art exhibits (Cincy Art Museum, Taft).  Though we’re not sophisticated fans, we watched lots of Bengals and Packers games, as well as all the Grand Slam tennis tournaments.  I do line dancing on Tuesday nights, Dayton flea markets throughout the year, lots of TV offerings (e.g., Ray Donovan, Homeland), and Katja, Donna, and I regularly go to Friday night movies.  All in all, our lives are punctuated by various pleasures, major and minor.  I hope 2017 will be still better for us all. 

Love,

Dave     

Can Old Dogs Teach Us New Tricks?

Dear George,

We lost our sheepdogs about a year ago, Duffy in June of 2015 and Mike in November.  Despite the passage of time, we’re still recovering — the dogs were such ever-present sources of pleasure.  We do still enjoy sheepdog perks, though, because our good friend Donna owns Sophie,  Mike and Duffy’s younger sister.  When Donna went to Nashville last weekend, Sophie came to stay with us, as she does every now and then.  It was good to have a sheepdog back in the house, and I took lots of pics. 

At thirteen and a half, Sophie is approaching 95 in human years, and she clearly has various infirmities of a senior dog.  One of her eyes is clouded over, and she’s lost about 90% of her hearing.  Getting up from the floor is a struggle, and its’s been a couple of years since she was able to jump into the SUV.  Sophie gets a painkiller for arthritis at bedtime, another pill for a leaky bladder.  At the same time, her basic personality hasn’t really changed since she was a year-old puppy — sweet, frisky, attentive, good-natured.  Overall, Sophie enjoys a high quality of life for her advanced age and continues to be a happy, active dog.  If she were able to talk, Sophie might tell us a lot about the secrets of successful aging.  As far as I can tell, the following are some of the sheepdog lessons about managing old age that we’d be wise to attend to. 

(1) Stay positive.  Despite lots of discomfort, Sophie’s most frequent expression is a happy smile. Her good attitude undoubtedly has many beneficial consequences, physical and psychological. 

(2) Exercise.  Sophie’s healthiness for her age is due at least in part to Donna’s always making sure that she’s gotten plenty of walks.  Because of creaky joints, it takes Sophie longer to get warmed up now, but then she’s good for a mile or two (or actually as long as the humans want to go).   Frequent hikes are the best thing that Sophie does to ward off the ravages of Father Time.

(3) Rest up.  On the other hand, when nothing much is going on, Sophie lies down and nods off in a minute or two.  She is such a good sleeper, and naps are the best for healing aches and pains.   

(4) Drink plenty of water.  Dogs and people get dehydrated when they don’t drink enough, especially in the summertime.  Fortunately, water is Sophie’s forte.  She not only drains much of the bowl but splashes the leftovers onto the kitchen floor.

(5) Persist in the face of obstacles.  Arthritis makes climbing the stairway a laborious process.  Nonetheless, Sophie is always determined to complete the task, systematically putting her front paws up on each successive step, then jumping up with her back paws.  

(6) Take care, watch out.  Going back down the staircase is even more nerve-wracking than climbing up.  Perhaps as a result of previous falls, Sophie is slow and cautious.  It’s a good reminder for the rest of us.   

(7) Make some adjustments.  Our own sheepdogs were always terrified of our mysterious, noisy elevator.  One day, however, Sophie rode with Katja  to the second floor.  Now she routinely leads Katja to the elevator when she wants to go upstairs.   

(8) Be playful.  Sophie has kept her puppy spirit alive over the years.  One of her favorite activities is to walk around the house carrying her beloved stuffed dog.  Then she’ll bring it over for a spirited game of tug-of-war.

(9) Keep track of things.  While we humans go batty from misplacing things, Sophie likes to store her possessions in secret places.  The dining room table offers a perfect hiding spot for her stuffed dog. 

(10) Seek out favorite spots.  Dogs seem to sense that security and feelings of well-being result from being in favorite locations that are familiar and comfortable.  Sophie’s long-time sheepdog bed is her number one place. 

(11) Relish life’s treats.  Mike and Duffy always responded to their routine daily walk around the block as if it were a brand new, exciting adventure.  And food, of course, resulted in pure ecstasy.  Though Sophie’s appetite has declined some, she still gobbles up her meals in a matter of minutes when she’s hungry. 

(12) Stick close to loved ones.  Like her brothers, Sophie is very people-oriented.  She usually hangs out near wherever we’re sitting.  As bedtime draws near, Sophie is the first one into the bedroom, and I help lift her into the bed so she can stake out her position right next to the humans.

(13) Have a good bark every now and then.  Sheepdogs aren’t big barkers.  As she’s gotten older, though, Sophie seems to enjoy barking loudly when I lean over and wave my hands.  It’s a friendly, enthusiastic bark and seems to be giving voice to all her inner exuberance. Barking is good for the soul — we all need to bark a little more.  

I don’t know if we’ll ever be ninety-five, but, if we are, I hope we’re able to do as well as Sophie.  There’s a lot to be learned from the mysterious sheepdog world. 

Love,

Dave

Losing Mikey

Dear George,

Last Saturday morning we took Mike, our remaining sheepdog, to the vet for an assessment, and, after some consultation, we made the difficult decision to have him euthanized.  We’d gone through the same procedure with Duffy several months ago.  The decision with Duffy was more clearcut since he was diagnosed with bone cancer, had fractured a leg, and was in severe pain.  There really wasn’t any choice in the matter.  Mike was more of a quality of life issue.  He’s been unable to get up from the floor by himself for months, has needed help getting up and down the stairs, had become incontinent, was suffering chronic pain from severe arthritis, and couldn’t be left alone in the house for any period of time without experiencing extreme distress.  We could have continued as we have been, providing him with a lot of physical caretaking, but, with the prospect of no improvement and continued decline, Mike’s  painful situation didn’t seem to warrant it.  I think we made the correct decision, but it’s hard nonetheless.  We were with Mike when the vet administered a sedative and then a drug to stop his heart.  It was painless for Mike, literally a matter of being put to sleep.  Lots of tears for us.     

Mike and Duffy have given us untold joy for over thirteen years, and we’ll experience their loss for a long time to come.  The dogs were my loyal companions on hikes in local parks, long neighborhood walks, camping expeditions, occasional road trips, and just hanging out in the house.  They were widely known in our neighborhood and provided the occasion for lots of casual contact with fellow dog owners and passersby.  Despite being brothers from the same litter, Mike and Duffy were very different in temperament.  Duffy was the alpha dog — more aggressive, dominant, and anxious.  He was the rowdier of the two.  When I think of Mike, the two words that pop into mind are “sweet” and “gentle”.  He was much more laid back than Duffy.  I can’t think of a single time where he ever barked at another dog on the street, and he stopped and stared at strangers, hoping to get a few pets.  He liked to lie in bed and lick our feet, and he was an expert at balancing on his back for minutes at a time with his legs outstretched and paws up in the air.  We still are attuned to his presence in the house, expecting him to be around the corner or to remind us that it’s 5:00 and time for dinner.  Katja was certain that she could hear him whimpering in the dining room yesterday evening.   

We’ve worked through losses in the past with pet dogs that we’ve been very attached to, and I know that we’ll cope with this all right and eventually get back to normal.  For myself, I’ve lost two loved companions and a significant and happy slice of my daily routines.  We’re at a life stage where we probably won’t get another dog.  I’ll have to figure out what will replace Mike and Duffy, or if that’s even possible at all.

Love,

Dave

Sheepdog Season

Sophie (left) & Mike on the back porch

Dear George,

Katja and Donna are touring in France, while I elected to stay home and take care of our respective sheepdogs, Mike and Sophie.  It’s definitely more exciting in France, but being home with the dogs has its own perks.  Because of Mike’s infirmities, I’m leery about leaving him home along for too long, so we’re all together at home most of the day.  Mike and Sophie get along fine, though they do their own thing.  We do go on a lot of individualized dog walks — Sophie usually down Ludlow Ave. to Burnet Woods and Mike on a 6-block walk in our immediate neighborhood.  The dogs are good companions — affectionate, attentive, loyal, patient — and I’ve always felt I have a lot to learn about giving and contentment from them.  Here are a few photos with poetic commentary that depict what life is like these days with Mike and Sophie.

Love,

Dave

We are spending more time on the patio

The dogs and I go there each morn

Mike enjoys rooting in the dirt

While Sophie chews an acorn

Ever since he was six months old

Mike’s had an extraordinary knack

He’s able to hold four legs in the air

While balancing straight on his back

Sophie and I stroll down Ludlow

We stop at the fountain to rest

Sophie likes to watch the people who are out

She’s thirteen but still has her zest

We three are watching the Bengals game

The dogs bark and cheer for the team

Although they don’t watch every single play

They do when the game picks up steam

The dogs did drift off in the second half

The Bengals were clearly ahead

They gave a big bark for Andy Dalton

But then they were ready for bed

You might say the front porch’s a prison

The sheepdogs peek out through the slats 

The world going by holds their interest

They hope that they’ll see pussycats

Here’s Mikey with his rawhide bone

He carries it everywhere 

He’ll never chew on that rawhide bone

He keeps it under my chair

Burnet Woods is the forest primeval

And it’s only four blocks from our house

It’s Sophie’s favorite place to go hiking

She looks for a squirrel or a mouse

The dogs let me know when it’s time to eat

With meals they’re remarkably shrewd

Mike eats faster with Sophie here

He’s afraid she’ll get into his food

The dogs drink plenty of water

Their bowl’s on the kitchen floor 

But they both prefer the upstairs bowl

I never say “No” any more

I rarely leave the dogs home alone

But if I do — such despair

The dogs stand and wait at the kitchen door

Wondering when I will be there

The stairs have become much more daunting

I lift Mikey up step by step

Sophie still makes it on her own

Though she has lost a little pep

The dogs get in bed at nine o’clock

I beg them to leave me a place

But they cover up the entire bed

I’m lucky to find a small space