Bonk.

Lets protect that pretty head, 'kay?

Indiana has a habit which, while strange and completely new to me, is apparently fairly common among older dogs.  Jim and I will be peacefully resting on the couch, watching television, and we will suddenly hear the most brain-rattling bonk you can ever hope to hear.  For a while it confused us.  What was that noise?  Where is it coming from?  But eventually, we figured it out.

Our dog throws herself to the ground to lay down, and that loud noise we hear?  It's her head hitting the hardwood floor.

Jim and I were horrified at first.  Surely such trauma would cause brain injury?  Oddly enough, I guess it doesn't.  She continues to do it and doesn't seem to be any worse for the wear.

At my last vet appointment, I mentioned this odd habit to our vet.  I expected her to be as incredulous about the whole thing as we were.  But her response surprised me.  "Oh, yeah.  I see that all the time in older dogs.  In fact, I have seen a few come in with huge bruises on their heads."  Waaahhhh? 

I couldn't wrap my brain around why my own dog was whacking her precious skull against the floor, on purpose, let alone why a whole subset of a species was doing it.  And why didn't I know about this? 

My vet replied that there was no hard-and-fast explanation for this odd phenomenon.  Her theory is that laying down all the way is painful or uncomfortable for most old dogs.  They know this, and so to avoid it, or at least combat it, they approach laying down with the ripping-off-a-band-aid theory--the faster you do it, the sooner it's over. 

This theory makes complete sense to me.  I'm still horrified by it, and I can't help but cringe every time I hear that distinctive whack of skull against wood.  The best I can offer is a soft rug underneath, to at least turn that crack into a dull thud.

Busy Days

Q*bert, not being busy

I've been long absent from my blog, even though I promised myself I would write every day.  To paraphrase my friend Caitte, I've been busy living life instead of writing about it.  Shame on me.  Just kidding--I feel guilty, but only just a little.

I'll try to spend this week catching up.  I've had a lot on my mind.  This time of year does that to me.  Lots of anniversaries of sad events, the holidays just around the corner, the changing of the seasons (which I love with all of my heart, I really do). 

I know the first thing on my regular readers minds: how is Indiana?  In a nutshell, good.  Things were a little dicey a few weeks ago.  She suddenly started struggling to lay down.  Not stand up.  Lay down.  This is for several reasons.  One, it has to do with tight muscles in her legs, which make laying down kind of painful, or at least uncomfortable.  It got so bad that Indiana would wander around the house for a long time (and at 13 1/2, Indy doesn't wander much anymore at all), exhausting herself, panting.  It was really hard to see.  And it's not like standing up, where we can assist her.  Laying down, she's on her own.  It's crushing and sad to see.

So we've had her in for chiropractic and acupuncture, which have helped.  But we also put her back on Adequan (which we had run out of a few weeks ago) and a new joint supplement called Glyco-flex III, a chewable pill that she actually likes eating.  I think these things have helped.  She's no longer struggling so much to lay down (it still takes her a while though, but she's like the equivalent of 80 years old in human years, so what can you expect?), and the wandering has all but ended, thanks to an herb we've been giving her called Rhodiola. 

Jim and I determined that Indy's wandering was caused by anxiety, which sounds really weird, because, what does a dog have to be anxious about?  But if you think about all of the older people you've ever known--grandparents, for instance--I bet you can think of several times they got nervous for no good reason.  Wanting to stay close to home.  Needing to be on a schedule.  Feeling overwhelmed by lots of noise.  It's the same for older pets too. 

To combat the anxiety (which seems the worst during meal times), Jim and I have set up a quiet atmosphere.  The TV goes off.  All unnecessary lights are switched off.  We both sit with her while she eats.  (She likes to be hand fed, so one parent feeds her, and usually the second sits by, watching.  It's torture for a herding dog not to be able to see all of her charges, so staying close reduces that worry).  But I swear the Rhodiola has helped too.  It's amazing the change we've seen.

We're lucky to have a vet who understands aging dogs, in a way I've never seen before.  Having a senior dog is harder than I ever imagined.  It requires lots of patience, lots of time, lots of attention, and the ability to turn off your "ick" sensor--you'll be touching things you never thought you would, and with your bare hands to boot.  Raw meat, feces, urine.  Whatever.  It doesn't faze me now.

Indiana has a lot to teach us about growing old.  But Jim and I try very hard to listen to her.  She's clear in her communications, if you just pay attention.  We have a lot to learn, but we're very eager pupils.