A Crippling Revelation: Dealing with Hip Dysplasia in our Dog

It's funny how blogging has come to resemble life.  When I sarted this blog, it was my attempt to chronicle a period of my life that would be spent studying, learning and absorbing life in Madrid and Spanish history and culture.  Instead, as I sit here, I'm writing yet another entry that has nothing to do with Spain.  Yet like life, the topic of this entry will effect my life and eventual removal to Spain.Two days ago my family learned of another challenge that we will facing in the coming days and months.  On Tuesday afternoon we learned that our four-legged housemate has severe Hip Dysplaysia in both hips.

 Buddy has been living with us for just over a year now and has carved out a place in all of our hearts.  He is a 17month old Labrador Retriever mix with great temperment and a constanly wagging tail.  We knew we had a winner with him the first time my five year-old sat on his back and pulled a rawhide chew out of his mouth.  Buddy didn't bite, growl, bark, or even react.  He just sat there like nothing had happened.  A minute later Ben gave the chew back and Buddy resumed his former position. 

Buddy's life began like thousands of other dogs who find themselves on the street from birth.  In August of 2009, he was born in a ditch along the side of the road.  His mother was a stray who was grossly underweight.  Depsite being a Chocolate Lab mix, she weighed only 38 pounds after giving birth to her puppies.  Also tragic was her advanced age.  They estimated her age at eight years when she had this litter of puppies. 

Buddy's first bit of luck in life happened when the woman who owned the aforementioned ditch took pity on the old Lab and her tiny puppies.  She took the litter in, raising them for a week, then making the phone call that would change all the puppies lives for the good.

At a very young age, Buddy and his litter mates were taken in by a wonderful woman named Denise who operates the Save a Mom Pregnant Dog Rescue.  Save a Mom Rescue is a gem of an operation located in East Sparta, Ohio, just south of Canton.  She takes in pregant dogs and dogs that have recently had puppies, with the sole goal of adopting out both the moms and the babies.  In many cases, the dogs that Denise saves would be euthanized at another facility.

Buddy spent his first few months at Save a Mom before being adopted for the first time.  His first family had come with the intention of adopting one of his siblings, but ended up going home with both of the remaining puppies instead of just one.  I know very little about the six weeks that Buddy spent at that other home, although under their care he wasn't Buddy at all, but instead went by the name Milo.  In the end though, Milo wasn't a good fit for their family.  After six weeks time, Buddy's first owner called, in tears, and said she needed to return  one of the puppies.  She said simply that two lab pups was one too many.  So Milo, or Buddy, ended up right where he started.

Our relationship with Buddy began on a rainy Saturday a week and a half before Christmas 2009.  For a little over a year before that I had been working on my wife about getting a puppy.  I used all the typical arguements about kids and puppies, security, etc... and finally she caved and agreed to go look with us.  A week earlier I had begun asking around, which meant telling my Mother I was thinking about getting a dog, and had been referred to Denise and Save a Mom from the Tuscarawas County Humane officer, Karen Slough.  So by that Saturday, everything was in place and we went off to meet Buddy/Milo, a energetic, loving four and half month old lab mix.

The rest of Buddy's story for his first year with us is pretty typical, every year thousands of families adopt puppies and deal with the trials and tribulations involved in a dog's first year.  To summarize, he had accidents in the house, destroyed and tried to eat the kid's toys, succeeded in eating the drywall in the upstairs hallway of our home, and managed to turn our daily routine upside down.  During all of this he managed to melt our hearts and become a cherished member of our family.

In the end, I guess that's why dealing with this is so painful.  Dogs are like family members, or in their lingo, members of the pack.  When the vet told us his diagnosis, it was like hearing dire news about one of my children.

 Our next visit is scheduled for Friday morning.  During this consultation we will find out what options we have to move forward.  After that I'll try to update this blog with a summary of our intitial vet visit and our meeting with the specialist.  Whether it ever gets there or not, it's my hope that someone else dealing with this issue will run across this and better know what to expect with their own dog. 

Until Friday.....
  

Saving Santa

On the last day of November, I had the pleasure of some very interesting company.  During the afternoon, here at the museum I was visited not by three ghosts, but by two wonderful donors.  Don Whittingham is great guy in his mid-forties healthy smile and twinkle in his eye that becomes even more apparent when he talks about history.  Especially about Dover’s history and what he calls the old guard. It was a member of this old guard that I had the pleasure of meeting

Don Whittingham works for Aquablue Company in New Philadelphia and is passionate about many of the same things I am. Pastimes like music, art, and travel.  I first met Don last Spring when he stopped into the office one day with artifacts from the Ress Cigar Shop that once sat in downtown Dover.  Don acquired the items from his friend Jim who was the proprietor of the cigar shop’s son.  It wasn’t five minutes into the conversation before Don offered the museum the artifacts and several others he didn’t have with him.  A month or two later he showed up on a rainy weekday with a trailer. 

Inside the trailed were two of the more interesting objects the museum has accessed in recent memory.  The first was the original humidor that sat on the counter in the cigar shop.  In shape it resembles a kitchen cabinet with three large doors that all open horizontally.  The difference between this humidor and a typical cabinet is that the humidor is covered in white porcelain tiles the way a snake it covered in scales.  Unlike those on a snake, the tiles do not allow the humidor to move freely, even when it’s being pulled or pushed by two grown men.  This unique piece measures approximately four feet long by two or three tall and at least a foot deep.

Using a dolly, we were able to get this very heavy treasure off the trailer and into carriage house.  Here it would remain for the next few months until we could arrange for its eventual removal into the Canal Exhibit in the upper story of our Carriage House.  As a side note, this feat was accomplished by Curator Kim Jurkovic’s husband and brothers who I’m convinced must moonlight as circus strongmen.

In addition to the humidor, yet another treasure was tucked inside the plain black trailer.  Peeking out from a dark corner was the jolly old elf we all recognize, Santa Claus.  This particular Santa Claus stands about five feet tall with the typical stocky build and thick beard, not of the whitest snow, but more the color of snow that sat by the side of the road for a day or two.  Once Santa was inside and under better light, we realized just what a find he was.

 Santa is not only jolly, but also animatronic.  Even with his pre-historic (1960’s) wiring he still waves like something out of the Higbees window at the beginning of A Christmas Story.  Unlike the toys displayed in that, the greatest of all Christmas movies, Santa was in his heyday surrounded by poinsettias, not Red Rider and his trusty air rifle. 

Don’s Santa made its debut all the way back in the early 1960’s when it was displayed in the front picture window of the Endres Floral Company.  Every year children from throughout the community looked forward to the day shortly after Thanksgiving when Santa would arrive.  When he did, he was framed front and center where he appeared to be negotiating a field of brilliant red poinsettias. In the picture window Santa remained, to the delight of those ages 4-10, until Christmas Eve.  On Christmas Eve, Santa performed his greatest magic trick, he disappeared. 

Those on their way to family gatherings on Christmas Morning were greeted not by the smiling, waving, Santa, but by a nativity scene.  As everyone knows, Santa couldn’t possibly remain because by 9:30am on Christmas morning he’s comfortably relaxing on a beach sipping a Mai Tai.

After his extended career at Endres, where he worked the window from the early sixties through the early nineties, Santa comfortably retired to the dining room of Dover resident,  Jim Ress.   To say Jim is an interesting guy would be like saying that Citizen Kane is a pretty good movie.  If you are to remain in a small town, it would be difficult to top the life that Jim has lived.  Until his move to the nursing home recently, Santa remained in Jim’s home on the corner of 12^th street and Wooster Avenue.

Our part in this story began, as I mentioned above, when Santa arrived inside the safe confines of a trailer in the Spring of 2010. This brings us back to the whole purpose of this rant, article, whatever you want to call it.  In any other town our forty year old Santa is just that, a beat up old relic with out of date wiring and a matted grey beard.  Here though he’s different.  In the friendly confines of the Reeves Home Ballroom, Santa is again at the height of his powers.  He’s important not because of what he is, but what he represents, a part of our collective memory as a community.  He acquires value not for his actual monetary worth, but because he’s nostalgic. 

He means something to the community and now he’s in a place where his value and influence will continue to grow.  I can’t think of anything better a museum can do for its community.

***

On a completely unrelated note, things are still progressing on the move to Spain.  We are currently waiting on the work permit to be approved (it was supposed to be done Dec. 15).   Once we have the work permit, the Visas should follow and our adventure can begin.

Pictured are the author and Jim Ress standing in front of the Ress Cigar Store humidor.