Stella: Feelin’ Wella Good (apologies to No Doubt)

Who’da thought when we picked out this adorable Boston terrier puppy back in March we would end up putting her through risky surgery to save her life?  She seemed so healthy.  Until.

Precious puppy!

At four months we took our newest family member to the vet for spaying and docking her unusual long tail.  Boston terriers just aren’t supposed to have long tails, and Dr. B. said since the docking wasn’t done shortly after birth, it could easily be done while she was under anesthesia during spaying surgery.  As much as we hated to put her through that, we knew she would heal quickly. She went through the surgery like a champ and challenged us, even dared us, to keep her quiet the first week of recovery.

Comfy in her kennel with her pink blanky

The time passed quickly, however, even with her having to stay in her kennel more because she tended to be too playful.  I had noticed that she seemed a little thin, and that when she inhaled during breathing, her sides would suck in harder than seemed normal.  Dr. B.’s new colleague, Dr. H., noticed the abnormal breathing as she examined Stella’s incision.  She wanted to take an x-ray, and her suspicions revealed a hernia in Stella’s diaphragm that had allowed her abdominal organs to move into her chest cavity!

So playful!

The doctors think that the surgery caused a difference in pressure which sucked the intestines, liver, and other abdominal organs through the hole in the diaphragm and around her heart, collapsing one lung. At first we thought we would have to take her to a specialist in Dallas but Dr. B. decided he could perform the surgery, and we trusted him to do it.

All tuckered out.  Look at that tongue!

To watch her now you’d never know how close we came to losing our sweet baby girl.  She’s just as active and mischievous as ever, thanks to two perceptive and skillful veterinarians. We hope to enjoy little Stella for many years to come.

Looking very thin before her problem was identified.
Now healthy and happy with Daddy.


#Bostonterrier #puppy #dog #veterinarian #pets #veterinarysurgery #congenitaldefectsincanines

Life Pets

Meaningless Drivel Monday: Random Labor Day Thoughts

It’s a good day when all the socks in the laundry folding basket have mates.
Wouldn’t you agree?  Yes, I am folding laundry on Labor Day.  And the hubster is working.
And so is the son-in-law, so Daughter and I are home.  I fold laundry while she plays video games.  Nice, huh?  The good thing for her about being home is no housework, right?
So I am quietly folding laundry, pondering topics for today’s blog post, and Daughter screams (hollers):  “Ack!  There’s a red wasp!”  
Now, red wasps in our neck of the woods are the horror, with their angry aggressiveness and mean stings.  I still have a scar on my forehead where I was stung at the tender age of four!  That sucker chased me down.  CHASED ME DOWN.  Tha horrah!  
But I digress.  Aforementioned red wasp is indeed inside the glass door flitting around in a panic, able to see the great outdoors but unable to get there.
Several options flash through my mind as Daughter says, “Again?  How are they getting in?”  She had to call her grandmother over from next door the other day to help kill one while we were gone.  Our doggie door gaps a bit, so I am sure the wasps are getting in that way.  Who wouldn’t find a way inside where there is air conditioning?
In a flash I decide against the flyswatter and the bug spray.  I had to act quickly.  No time to fetch said weapons.  I pick up a nearby flip flop, open the glass door, and coax the beastly insect to freedom.  It all ends well.  No violence, no noxious fumes, everyone happy.
Next issue at hand:  convincing my three dogs that dinner is still over an hour away.  Stop staring at me with those sad eyes!  She’ll give in. . .she always does. . .
“Feed me, Mommy!” say Whitey and Molly.
“Did you say ‘time to eat’?” Maggie asks.
What are YOU doing today?

AT HOME Monday: Maggie the Acrobat

What do these two photos have in common?  One is my sweet Boston terrier Maggie and one is my dining room table.  (Please excuse the pile of craft stuff behind it–I haven’t been able to claim a craft room in my home yet.)

I’m sitting in my chair in my living room, my back to the dining room and kitchen, when my other little Boston terrier gal, Molly, runs over and starts scratching at my knees.  Thinking she just wants to play, I pat her head and resume my Facebooking, which was distracting me from my Monday housecleaning chores, by the way.

A few seconds later, I hear something strange and turn around to see, much to my astonishment, Maggie walking around on the dining room table!  So that was what Molly was trying to tell me!  Now Maggie isn’t the skinniest thing on earth, and her legs are much shorter than your average Boston–in fact, we suspect she may have some French bulldog in her recent ancestry.  How she could be spry enough to jump onto a chair which was partially pulled away from the table and then to the table is a mystery!  

I pull a dining room chair a little farther out, and tell her to get down right now!  She looks at me, like, “What’s wrong, Mommy?” but she obeys quickly.  

Of course, I immediately regret it.  A perfect blog post!  But alas, I didn’t take a photo!  So I gather her up–she ain’t no light thing, either–and place her back on the table.  Not to be scolded again, no Sirree, she jumps straight from the table to the floor!  There will be no photo.

But now I know where those scratches on my table came from.  And I blamed my husband for putting his tools there.  Just another reason to paint it. . .

Stay tuned!


AT HOME MONDAY: There’s never a dull moment. . .

. . .when you have a dog in the house.  Multiply that times three for us, and really, three is nothing when, not too long ago, we had seven dogs and two litters of puppies in the house at one time!  Not just dogs, mind you.  These are Boston terriers, the smartest canines in the world.  Don’t bother to argue with me, because I will never change my opinion on this, okay?

We bought our first Boston terrier puppy when the kids were small and we realized that no child should grow up without a dog.  I believe Matt was 8 and Natalie was 3.  The kids were thrilled and Mack became a wonderful companion for Matthew.  However, just one dog would not be enough.  No.  

Trips to Dog Alley at First Monday Trade Days in Canton convinced my honey that we should go into the dog breeding business.  One breeder told us that he had paid all his debts, including a home and travel trailer, from his earnings in breeding.  Jimmy was convinced that we needed to start our own dog breeding business.  I went along since it meant lots of cute puppies.  We bought Mack a wife, a little female puppy we named Mindy.

Fast forward a few years, through their litter of puppies (their ONLY one) which produced Whitey, Whitey’s wife Molly, Maggie, Maggie’s husband, Murphy, and their daughters Feisty and Swirl, and lots of other little puppies who found new homes.  With vet bills for mommies who miscarried, stillborn pups, vaccinations, puppy ads, and other expenses, we NEVER came out ahead, and our home suffered.  Look forward to tales of home damage in future posts. . .

After so many years and no children at home, we are left with three babies:  Whitey, who is now almost 11 years old, Molly, 8, and Maggie, 6.  But poor Whitey is feeling his age.  

Every spring and summer, he suffers from skin allergies, an ailment which usually forces us to resort to steroids from the vet.  After feeding him doses of Benadryl with no improvement I finally took him to the vet’s office today.  He has also been limping a bit, but it has gotten worse over the last couple of days.  Last night he had trouble standing to eat his dinner, and he could barely get to his favorite resting place on the sofa.  

Natalie came over this morning to help me get him to the doctor. To my surprise and dismay, Dr. B. found fleas on my poor baby!  I was SO humiliated!  I mean, we pride ourselves on being wonderful pet owners.  We allow them complete run of the house, we have a fenced in yard with a doggie door, and we keep them on a strict feeding and medication schedule.  We also check them often for fleas, and had not seen anything!  Dr. B. glances at his poor skin and sees three!  Of course, she IS trained. . .Needless to say, we forked out almost $200 for flea treatment for everydog, as well as some cortisone for Whitey’s poor achy joints. 

To top it off, my daughter notices–while we are waiting in the examination room with the dog–that I have put my blouse on wrong side out!  What with Whitey having a thermometer shoved up his most personal orifice, Natalie realizing her parents have been fussing at her pets for scratching when they have BUGS on their skin, and her mother not being able to properly dress herself anymore. . .well, it was a HUMILIATING day for all. . .

Poor Bawhitey-bewie. . .

Ap ril  xoxo
stay tuned. . .