Jesse James, Sandra Bullock Reunite with Missing Dog After 3 Weeks

Reprinted from news reports:

Jesse James' dog, Cinnabun, has been returned home.

"The search is over!," James posted on his West Coast Choppers Web site Wednesday, Feb. 17. "We got a call from a gal by the name of Rosaura in Los Angeles today saying she had Cinny."

Rosaura brought Cinnabun--who disappeared from the shop Jan. 25--to the West Coast Choppers office for the reunion, James wrote in his post.

"The car pulls in, the door flings open, and out pops Cinnabun! It's been just over three weeks since we last saw her and were starting to wonder if we'd ever get her back ... and there she was," he wrote.

Cinnabun had reportedly been with the woman then entire time. She wasn't aware who Cinnabun belonged to until she saw a flier, which were posted throughout the Los Angeles area.

Photos of the reunion between the West Coast Choppers owner and his puppy pitbull are posted on the West Coast Choppers Web site.

James wrote that Cinnabun was in good shape, "...maybe a few pounds thinner than when she left. But super happy to be home. We're taking her to the vet to get her all checked out and chipped, and GPS'd, and live-tracked by Google Earth...the works. We don't want to lose this little gal again!!!"

Following Cinnabun's disappearance near Anaheim Street and the Los Angeles River, James posted Twitter messages pleading for help in finding his lost dog.

James and wife, actress Sandra Bullock, also posted a $2,000 reward, then later increased it to $5,000 for Cinnabun's safe return.

"Thanks to everyone who sent us e-mails, calls, and well wishes over the past few weeks," James wrote on the West Coast Choppers Web site, "and a BIG thanks to Rosaura in Los Angeles who found her and brought her back ... and a special thanks from Mr.T who is happy to have his little buddy back.

"Let the barking, wrastlin' and bone chasing begin!"

Pawprints of Katrina Book Launch Revisited

The following is a reprint from Las Vegas freelance writer Terrisa Meeks's blog. She not only attended the Pawprints of Katrina book launch and signing--featuring actress Ali MacGraw, who wrote the book's foreword, photographer Clay Myers, and Cathy, along with Katrina dogs Lois Lane and Mia--but Terrisa wrote about it as well. You'll enjoy who she met along the way.

On July 26, Las Vegas author Cathy Scott held a book launch for her most recent book, Pawprints of Katrina: Pets Saved and Lessons Learned, at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, located just outside Kanab, Utah. The sanctuary’s Visitor’s Center is the beautiful place you see in this picture. Back in Hollywood’s earlier days, this area was an outpost for filmmakers. (According to IMDb, 26 movies were filmed at the Kanab Movie Ranch, which was formerly located here.) Cathy is a journalist with an impressive background, a true reporter who I’ve found has a keen eye and a determination to uncover the facts. She was on the ground in the Gulf after Katrina, working with the dedicated volunteers and staff of Best Friends to help rescue the animals left behind, stranded, and separated from their families—and to document their stories, which she tells us now in Pawprints. The first person who read my copy was my mother-in-law. (Hey, she agreed to babysit overnight, so she got first dibs on the book.) I asked her yesterday what she thought. She told me she’d had no idea how bad it was for the animals after Katrina. “So I take it that means I should read this book with tissue nearby?” I asked her. “Oh yeah,” she said. “But it’s not because all of it’s sad. It’s also touching.” So, animal lovers, you’ve been warned. Pick up an extra box of Puffs next time you’re at the store.

I have to confess that my husband and I were so enchanted with the sanctuary that we didn’t spend much time at the book launch after we bought our copy of Pawprints. Sprocket the potbellied pig (isn't he adorable?) was standing outside, so we hung out with him. We looked at the line for the book signing, and then we wandered back toward the koi pond, a picturesque scene complete with blooming lily pads. The horse corrals beckoned in the distance. An inviting walk

way wound past the front of the Visitor’s Center, where the hummingbird feeders were

attracting more hummingbirds than I have ever seen in one location. Soon, my husband and I were meandering down the walkway, toward the corrals with the goats and horses. What can I say? We didn’t meet Ali McGraw, who wrote Cathy’s foreword, but take a look at photos of some of the beauties we met instead.

Photos courtesy of Terrisa Meeks.

Home for the Holidays: Sissy & Peanut Adopted

The last few months, I fostered two puppies (they were together a few weeks – overlapped). The first one was Sissy, a long-haired Chihuahua rescued from a large commercial breeder in Southern California who was days from being evicted and he unloaded Sissy and some mama dogs. She weighed just a pound when she arrived.

Sissy was adopted by Laurie Ray in Del Mar, who, with her husband, adores her. Sissy -- now named Missy – is never alone because of a live-in housekeeper, plus Laurie takes her just about everywhere she goes. She spent the Christmas holiday with them in Oregon. One compliment they’ve given is how well trained she is for a puppy. One thing I try to do is teach my fosters basic commands – sit, stay, up, down, off, etc. It's nice to hear it paid off.

Then came Peanut, a 3-month-old papillon puppy, who had been confiscated by animal control from a man who was tossing out food to the back yard every three days. An Arizona rescue group, who had no place for her, asked me to take her. I drove to Kingman, Ariz., on a Saturday morning to meet a volunteer at the halfway point. Peanut was the last of her litter to be confiscation, left alone in a yard for three weeks and only being fed every three days. But she wasn’t skiddish, although she was needy.

Peanut found a home with Beth Merayo in Richfield, Utah, with Missy, an older Pomeranian – and range-fed chickens. She’s chasing the chickens but, when one chased her, Peanut ran back to Beth. Hopefully the chickens will train her!

I just got a note from Beth today, along with new photos of Peanut playing in the snow and resting inside. Here’s what Beth said in her e-mail:

"She loves the snow, and I have to make her come in after a short time. She is a love. She sleeps in the bed, sits on my lap and hugs. Missy is doing good with her but gets aggravated with the youngster sometimes. Housetraining is going great. She is still all pup and chews and chases, but we are working on that. I have a friend who is a trainer for agility and we have started training Peanut. She is a very smart girl. She loves everyone who visits and everyone loves her. It is fun to watch her explore new things. She dearly loves her toys and has several in the bed every night. She is a joy and once again I thank you."

I thank both Laurie and Beth for taking in Sissy and Peanut and loving them as much as I do.

Gypsy Rose Lee, a Refugee From a Puppy Mill Comes Home

Meet Gypsy, a tiny survivor from a commercial breeding farm.

In mid November, I went on assignment to the Midwest to cover the rescue of 150 dogs who were scheduled to be killed at puppy mills. They no longer could produce, or they had terrible medical issues, or they were just older, used-up breeders. They're going to leave the puppy mill either feet first or head first, so Best Friends Animal Society's Pup My Ride transport program was there to take them as rescuers pulled them from the commercial breeding farms.

On the first day, we got in around 40 dogs -- every breed you can think of, including two large bull mastiffs, French bulldogs, silkies, Yorkshire terriers, doxies and lots of shih-tzus and King Charles spaniels. Each and every one has his or her own story, and when they come in to a temporary receiving area, literally straight from the puppy mills, their eyes are big and they're just waiting for something bad to happen to them. It's sad, but as each day goes on and they realize that the lives they were forced to live as breeders in wire-bottomed cages, with no air conditioning and no heat, are over, they begin to blossom.

I noticed a 5-1/2-pound long-haired Chihuahua that first day. Her eyes, too, were wide. She wouldn't make eye contact with the volunteers and staff tasked with caring for them, feeding them, cleaning up after them and providing medical exams and vaccinations so they could go out to rescue groups in New York to be adopted out.

Gypsy caught my eye for two reasons: Even though she was just 2 years old, she looked as if she were an old soul; and, secondly, she seemed so sweet, plus absolutely beautiful. I do favor the Chihuahua appleheads. There's just something about them, and, probably, because Mia was an applehead, that's a big reason why I gravitate toward them. They have calm dispositions and are just plain sweet.

I paid attention to which stall -- in a large equestrian barn where we were set up for five days -- the little Chihuahua was assigned to I visited her that evening, after all the vaccinations and med work were done, and went to her large kennel where she was housed with a tiny pomeranian. They had arrived in the same transport crate and came from the same breeder. I took the Chihuahua out of the kennel and held her, but she wiggled and wouldn't look at me. She just wanted to go back and be with her little friend.

The next morning, when we arrived there early, she was still sleeping. I helped clean up the kennels in that stall so I could spend more time with her. She didn't want out of the kennel to walk around. I took her out, though, and she stumbled back in. One of her back legs didn't seem to be working right.

When there was some down time that afternoon, I took her out and sat her on my lap while I wrote an article on my lapstop, wrapping her in a towel so she'd be warm. She was getting more tolerant of me holding her and even started to fall asleep. Progress. Volunteers stopped to pet her. I asked for suggestions on names, and one volunteer said she thought she seemed like a gypsy, because in the mill she was homeless, plus she'd already traveled to our temporary kennels, then she was headed for New York and eventually Las Vegas with me. Gypsy Rose Lee fits her, the volunteer said. So Gypsy it was.

She had a large incision and the breeder told the rescuer that she'd just had three puppies born via C-section a week and a half earlier, that she didn't produce milk and wouldn't take care of her babies. The three puppies were feeding off of another mama dog.

I adopted Gypsy from the rescuer. Then, the next day, three of us -- Kelli Ohrtman, campaign specialist for Best Friends' Puppies Aren't Products, and Best Friends' photographer Gary Kalpakoff -- drove in a mini van following the transport trailer with 164 dogs inside (very nice accomodations in a customized trailer) to New York state, where rescue groups--that had potential adopters who want small breed dogs but want rescued dogs and not puppy store dogs--were waiting. Dr. Sarah Alward with Animal Rescue Fund of the Hamptons was waiting for us too, to help transport animals to her shelter. She examined Gypsy; I was worried about her (she was bleeding). She said her uterus felt firm toward the back and suggested I get her spayed immediately.

I arrived home on a Friday, and the next morning, I took Gypsy into the new Spay and Neuter Center of Southern Nevada. The vet said it looked like this was her second C-section and that it wasn't a very good job. She had pyametra -- an infection in her uterus -- which spaying her solved.

Within a week, Gypsy was feeling well and starting to play with toys! She was awkward at first, but then caught on when I squeaked the toys. She now loves to shake them and carry them all over the house. The first week, she was still shy. Every day she gets braver. I have to be careful not to approach her too quickly because she'll sometimes let out a squeal, like she thinks I'm going to hurt her. She and my shih-tzu Joey are buddies. And she and Rosy, my basset-healer mix, started playing with each other for the first time yesterday. She absolutely loves running out of the dog door, making a run around the yard, then running back inside. Her patellas on both knees are luxated, and one of her legs turns in, but she's getting stronger and stronger. She's still a little scared to ride in the car, but she's getting more used to that too.

She's a funny little dog with a sweet personalit who's a bit awkward, because everything is so new to her. She'll sit and watch TV for 10 minutes at a time, totally entranced. She sleeps against me every night and seems to take comfort in the closeness. She gets so excited when it's time to go to bed, and she crawls under the covers to get warm. I can't imagine what life for this little girl was like for two years in a cold, wire cage. What I do know is she gets a kick out of living in a home. It's amazing watching her. When she tastes something new, like yogurt, for example, she wags her tail and looks up at me, so happy, as if she's saying "thank you," because she can't believe how good it tastes.

I'll give you progress reports as she blossoms and comes out of her shell even more. We're going to my sister's house for Christmas in San Diego and we'll take photos. It's the second time she'll have been there. She was housetrained from the start -- always a surprise to me when a puppy mill dog can be trained so easily and quickly -- so she's no problem as a house guest. She and Joey will be with me, and Rosy is being boarded (only for two days). So stay tuned with reports about Gypsy Rose Lee's new life after a puppy mill! In the meantime, Happy Holidays to all!

Fun in the Utah Snow

Rosy, my heeler/basset mix, and Joey, my shih-tzu boy, played in the snow last weekend at Angel's Overlook at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary. The sun was out and the snow was on the ground; Rosy couldn't resist playing in it, and then Joey joined in on the fun.

We'd gone to the Overlook to visit the grave sites of Mia, my little Katrina girl who passed away in June, and Molly, the first dog I adopted from Best Friends, who passed away in March 2009. Mia's site was completely under snow but Molly's is pictured here.

Rosy located Molly's site almost immediately. She walked from row to row, looking for her, which I find amazing when she does it, especially after all this time. They were joined at the hip, and no dog mourned more for another than Rosy. Today, she's a happy, healthy, nearly 10-year-old girl. Despite being diagnosed more than two years ago with melanoma, she shows no signs of cancer.

The Overlook is a beautiful spot and a great one to visit and remember the two canine girls I've lost.

Joey (pictured left) is still recovering from his injuries (it's a long story) and is doing phenomenally well. He still sleeps a lot and gets cold easily (thus the hoodie he wore in the snow), but he's almost fully recovered, just 3-1/2 weeks later. The vets at both Las Vegas Animal Emergency Hospital, overnight, and Durango Animal Hospital, from 7 a.m. to closing, did an incredible job saving him over a 24-hour period. He's one lucky dog. But I consider myself the lucky one that he made it. He's a sweet, smart dog with a wonderful spirit--and a very large will to live!

Enjoy the pics, and have a great holiday!

Photos by Jennifer Hayes

Happy Thanksgiving To One And All

On behalf of all animals, ours is a vegetarian Thanksgiving. But whatever your choice, have a good one! Much to be thankful for this year.

Natural Treatment for Rosy's Melanoma

I've just started feeding Rosy, my basset/heeler mix, a combination of organic low-fat cottage cheese and flaxseed oil (a teaspoon of oil). Instead of dog food at night, she's getting cottage cheese and flaxseed. It's from the Dr. Budwig diet, which recommends it for cancer patients. I did a search and read about people giving it to their dogs as part of a holistic treatment regimen.

Nearly two years ago, Rosy was diagnosed with dermal melanoma after I noticed a dark spot on her muzzle that was growing rapidly. Two weeks later, it was a huge, black mole, so her veterinarian removed it. A week after that, the lab results came back as melanoma. This is what her vet wrote in his e-mail to me, telling me that the lab results were in:

"Rosie's mass came back as a dermal melanoma. These can either be malignant or benign -- this one was in between. The pathology stated we have good margins on the tumor. The best thing to do now is to monitor for re-occurrence of tumor."

I'm scheduling Rosy for a two-year check-up at the end of the year, but, so far, the tumor has not returned (I check it regularly, because it's easy to feel on her muzzle). Everything I've read says the lifespan for dogs with dermal melanoma is no more than two years. One study says that 65 percent of dogs with malignant dermal melanoma "don't last more than two years due to local recurrence or metastasis."

Rosy -- knock on wood -- is doing very well. She still jogs with me a few times a week and doesn't show signs of illness, even though she'll be 10 years old in January.

I started her on supplements immediately after the lab work came back. She takes Omega 3, colostrum in powder form (I mix it with water), barley tablets and CoQ10 (the ubiquinol form). And every day she drinks coconut water, which is loaded with nutrients and considered one of the healthiest drinks found in nature. Twice a day, Rosy also has a tablespoon of coconut oil.


And about six weeks ago, I began giving Rosy daily doses of Vitalzym, an enzyme supplement. Her energy level remains high and I remain optimistic.

Special TV Tribute to Mia

Mia, my late Katrina girl, and I were guests in 2008 of host Randy Swallow on his "County Critters" show, which was co-hosted with chief animal control officer Joe Boteilho.

Afterward, when Randy learned that Mia had passed away, he and his production crew put together a tribute piece that recently aired on CCTV Channel 4's public access station. I'm including a photo (above) of Mia from that shoot. The camera guys took great shots of her. Halfway through the 15-minute interview, Mia climbed onto my shoulder and stayed there for the rest of the segment.

Here's the touching tribute that Randy said to viewers on "County Critters."

"We have some sad news to pass along," Randy began. "You'll remember Mia, a dog rescued by author Cathy Scott during the devastation in New Orleans from Hurricane Katrina. Cathy and Mia were guests on 'County Critters' last year as Cathy published a book about Mia and hundreds of other pets rescued during the hurricane and flooding called Pawprints of Katrina.

This sweet dog won the hearts of all of us here at Channel 4. Mia passed away in June after a brave battle with heart problems and other medical issues. Mia was just 6 years old."

Thanks so much, Randy and the folks at "County Critters." It's a sad but very special memorial to Mia and one that's greatly appreciated. Mia lives on in so many hearts.

Puppy Mill Dog Comes Home

I've alluded to having another dog with me, so here is her story.

Timing is everything. Eight days after my Mia died, I was feeling down about losing her when I got a call from an independent rescuer. She periodically goes into Riverside County, San Bernardino and Hesperia -- an area called Inland Southern California -- to rescue dogs, mostly breeders, from puppy mills. These mills are rustic and have mostly on-the-ground confines where litter upon litter are bred in the back of rural properties.

The gal told me she and a friend were told about a man who was being evicted from his Riverside property. He was unloading some female breeders. But he also had a puppy Chihuahua who was "too big" (the breeder's words). He was going to keep her and breed her with a smaller male, but because he was being forced to relocate, he was unloading her too. The rescuer said they had foster homes for the mother dogs but not for the puppy and did I know anyone who could take her. I didn't hesitate and said I would.

I didn't know how old she was, what kind of Chihuahua, medical issues, nothing. The next day, they brought her to me. She was like a miniature Mia, although I am trying not to compare them. She was shy but not really scared and she weighed only a pound. The breeder, the rescuer said, raises dogs to weigh as adults between 2-1/2 and 3-1/2 pounds. That's precisely why dogs like Mia are born with medical issues, because of overbreeding and trying to get them tiny.

I named her Sissy and she has been with me, here to stay, since June 13. She had a bit of an upper respiratory infection when she arrived so I eased her into a raw food diet and also put her on probiotics and colostrum (she loves the colostrum and laps it up, watered down, twice a day).

I was told Sissy was 9 weeks old, but her motor skills weren't developed and she acted more like a 6-week-old puppy, possibly because of being confined with basically no contact with people and outside stimulation and socialization (she has long since made up for lost time).

Today, now 5 months old, Sissy is a little tiger with one goal in life: to play, play, play. Within a week of arriving here, she was playing with toys. She was so tiny, they were as big as her. She was weighed two weeks ago at 4 pounds but she feels even heavier now and is probably at 4-1/2.

Before Sissy arrived, I had adopted out Joey, a shih-tzu foster boy. For a week, I was back down to just my two dogs, Rosy and Hollywood, each 9-1/2 years old. Then, Sissy arrived 

unexpectedly. And a week later, I got a call that Joey was being returned for "acting out." He's 8 years old, adores me, and I adore him, and so I'm keeping him two. Which brings me back up to

 four. But that's okay. Now, instead of three big

 dogs and one little one, I have two big and two small -- very manageable.

                                                         

(Pictured, right, Joey and Mia a few weeks before Mia passed.)

Sissy already knows how to sit and stay. And, because she would lick Hollywood and Rosy's faces until the end of time, she knows the command "leave it." For some reason, she can't get used to having big dogs around and thinks they're the coolest thing. Every time they walk into a room, it's like she's never seen them before. And each evening and morning when Hollywood is napping, she sneaks up, crawling on her belly, to lick his snout. When he wakes up, she wriggles like it's Christmas morning and he's her present. She adores them both and they're extremely tolerant of her. Rosy has actually started playing some with Sissy. She's maturing and is becoming less of a jumping bean  (although she is still very much a crazy-bouncy puppy).

Sissy attended Mia's placement at Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab, Utah, where she was doted on by Best Friends employees (Sissy's pictured here with animal consultant Sherry Woodard).

In late mid July, Sissy and Joey went to San Diego with me (Rosy and Woody were boarded at their favorite place) and we stayed at my sister Cordelia's for a couple of nights. Sissy raced around the house  like she'd always lived there. Their dog Frankie ignored her, but she started chasing their Burmese rescued cat. I was really proud of her when she did her business outside (except for one small accident).

But, we're still working on the house training. While paper-training is great, you then have to move from paper to outdoors. But Sissy is getting there, slowly but surely.

She and Joey play and wrestle constantly throughout the day, and I'm so glad they have each other (and Rosy and Woody are too, because when she was a little younger and chewed nonstop; after Joey was returned, she started chewing on his legs, and he was fine with it).

I still miss Mia more than I can say, and I think about her every day. But having Sissy, Joey, Rosy and Hollywood with me has been a delight. Sissy is growing up, right before my eyes, and she couldn't be a happier dog.

I'll continue posting here about the natural care I provide for my dogs. Rosy has melanoma -- diagnosed a year and a half ago -- but she isn't showing any symptoms (other than the lab work that came back positive after a fast-growing black mole was removed). She's on a regimen of supplements and I'll talk more, later, about what I'm doing for her too. So please stay tuned!

Mia Is Put To Rest

I buried Mia yesterday. She’s at an area called the Overlook on the grounds of Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab, Utah. My dogs--Hollywood, Rosy, Joey and, now, a new puppy named Sissy--were there. But a special moment before Mia’s placement was when a Chihuahua named Lois Lane, Mia’s inseparable pal for two months in 2005 at the Hurricane Katrina triage center, said her goodbyes to Mia. We had a viewing and Mia looked like she was sleeping. Lois licked Mia's face, eyes and ears, then it was as if she realized Mia wasn’t sleeping after all; Lois tucked her tail and kissed Mia again, then looked back at the rest of us. She knew. It’s amazing how much animals know and see. It could not have been a better or more sweet ceremony. Good friends who work at different areas of the sanctuary were there, including Sherry Woodard, animal behavior expert, Best Friends co-founders Faith Maloney and Anne Mejia, and Yvonne McIntosh, who runs Best Friends' potbellied pig department. Jennifer Hayes, an editor for Best Friends' Web site, took beautiful photos. Also there were Sandy Miller, a Best Friends writer, adoption coordinators Pat and Larry Donoho, animal caregivers Kersten Muthreich and Joyce Wallace, and adoptions manager Kristi Littrell. Mia touched so many; they gave her much love and Mia, who had such a big heart, returned it with gusto. Also there to say their goodbyes were my good friends Harriet and Al Needleman, who drove up from Las Vegas for the service (and they didn't drive up just once; they thought it was the day before, realized it was the wrong day when they arrived, drove home, then returned the next day). It was their first time at the sanctuary and they fell in love with Angel Canyon, where the sanctuary sits on 33,000 acres. As Harriet said, "It's beautiful and so peaceful." Officiating at the ceremony was Best Friends' staffer John Sichta, who did a beautiful job. He placed a plaque, with Mia's photo, with her marker--a stepping stone--along with a large sandstone rock from Red Rock Canyon, where Mia hiked more than a hundred times in the nearly four years she was with me. She loved it up there, and so it was fitting that a rock from one of her favorite places marks her resting place. Her plaque reads, "Goodbye, my sweet Katrina survivor. You loved and touched so many. You will live on forever in our hearts. Harriet read a Rudyard Kipling poem, which started with this: "If there's a doggy heaven, I know that's where you are, About a million miles away, Standing on a star." For my part, I described how Jeff Popowich, rapid responders at the time for Best Friends, rescued Mia from a pool deck at a factory-turned-apartment complex in New Orleans. I also quoted Kahlil Gibran, from The Prophet, about death:

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides that it may rise and expand? Only when you drink into the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountaintop, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

Photos of Harriet Needleman speaking at the ceremony, Mia’s gravesite, and Mia, at the viewing, and Sherry Woodard with Sissy, by Jennifer Hayes.

Losing Mia

The thing that has always been paramount in Mia's care, treating her naturally and trying to push back the progression of an inevitably fatal heart disease, was to give her a chance for a longer life. And she got that. She lived far longer--about three years--than her veterinarian had predicted. What will forever stand out in my memories of Mia was her huge will to live. The last couple of days, though, I think she was holding on for me. She wanted to be in the living room, on the hardwood floor, those last couple of nights, so I slept on the sofa. In the middle of the night that last day, she woke me up by putting her paws on the sofa, nudging me. I opened my eyes and looked at her and knew she was in trouble. I picked her up and she stopped breathing, so I resusciated her, then gave her oxygen. She recovered and settled in, then fell asleep. It was at that point that I knew it was too much for Mia to go through. My friend Faith Maloney had told me a couple weeks earlier that with severe illnesses in our pets, we know what the end will be; we just don't know when it will be. "'When the time is right," she said, "you'll know." And so it was in the early morning hours of June 4 that I knew it was over. Mia, who was always affectionate, had been particularly clingy her last couple of days, wanting me to hold her and following me--slowly--from room to room. She wanted to be picked up so she could rest on my shoulder--her favorite spot. So that's what I did for her. I held her, with her head resting on my shoulder--always the left shoulder (her preference)) and never the right. She lifted her head, gave me a lick, then lay her head down again. I remembered then the day I met her, the second week in September, 2005. She was shivering with fright after being pulled from stormwater from the pool deck at the American Can Company apartment complex in New Orleans. A volunteer -- whose name I never knew--walked up to me at the triage center in Tylertown, Miss., set up by Best Friends Animal Society and asked me if the little frightened Chihuahua could stay with me for the rest of the day. She said she'd be back later. Mia climbed up my chest and rested her head on my left shoulder. The volunteer never returned, and Mia stayed with me in Tylertown for two months, then she went home with me. Mia has been such an inspiration. If ever a dog fought to live, it was Mia. She loved life. I took her and her sister Rosy and brother Woody to Calico Basin in Red Rock Canyon a few days before she passed. It was early evening and there was a soft breeze. I put Mia down next to a bush and she sniffed it, did her business, then looked up at me to be picked up. We followed Rosy and Woody into a clearing, with a water hole. I sat with Mia on a red-rock boulder and watched Woody swim and Rosy wade. The wind rustled the mesquite trees. Mia lifted her head into the breeze. I didn't know then that it would be her last trip up there. She loved the canyon and spent hours running like she was king of the hill. I've always said Calico Basin is like my dogs' back yard, and it is. They know it like the back of their paws and have romped on the floor of the canyon since their first days with me. It was a fitting final outing for Mia. When she is buried at Overlook Rest on the grounds of Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab, Utah, a red rock from the canyon will be placed at her grave. Mia's little service is scheduled for 3 p.m. on Wednesday, July 22, 2009, in Angel Canyon in southern Utah. Soon, I'll be posting comments here from people who knew and loved Mia. With all her heart, she loved every single one of them back.

Mia

Mia passed away this morning.

Mia Hits a Rough Spot

FRIDAY: I'll be honest; I'm more than a little worried about Mia. But first, the good news. I'm proud to say that her blood pressure remains normal, as do her heart rate and pulse. Her vet said a week ago that she is not in congestive heart failure. It's all about slowing the progress of the disease. Still, despite keeping her heart rate at good levels with the supplements she's receiving, there's no way to fix the heart murmur and regurgitation of blood. Which brings me to the bad news. Mia's heart, as her vet described it, is "gigantic." There's pressure against her trachea (windpipe) and, as a result, the trachea has collapsed. She now has another upper respiratory infection. She's on an antibiotic because nothing else would touch it. She's also on a prescription syrup, which takes about 10 to 15 days to be effective. Those things finally appear to be helping at least some. Collapsed trachea is common in small breeds, including Chihuahuas, so it's tough to say whether this would have happened anyway, without the mitral valve prolapse. I also put her on Limu juice to boost her immune system. And I added a pinch of garlic to her supplements, because it's a natural bronchodilator. At this stage, I'm noticing just baby steps. She coughs whenever she moves, then calms down after about 10 minutes. So, I got a prescription for oxygen. I give it to her through an infant face mask. I only got it two days ago. Just this morning, when she had a bad coughing spell (mornings are the worst), I put the mask up to her and she was able to breathe much easier. She looked up at me as if to say, "Now I get it; this thing makes me feel better." It was if she understood. Before I got the oxygen, I had to blow air into her a few times, because she had a touch time getting air. The oxygen now provides her relief. She's not lethargic, and she has an appetite, although this morning it took some coaxing. She eats only Primal raw food diet, morning and evening. She perks up almost immediately after eating. She wags her tail, still chases after birds and loves to go on walks around the block at night, although most of the time I carry her--until she gets past this infection. She enjoys the wind blowing in her face. So, that's the latest. I'm hoping for the best and am making sure she's hydrated, especially in the Vegas heat. I continue giving her supplements for her heart. Send lots of healing light Mia's way! SATURDAY MORNING: For the first time in a couple of weeks, I picked up Mia and she didn't cough. Any movement usually causes her to cough. So, I do feel she's making headway--finally! She likes to put her head on my shoulder, and I held her for the longest time, and she didn't cough. This is a BIG baby step! Photo, of Mia with Ali MacGraw last November, by Clay Myers

A High Point in Mia's Care

Mia napping this afternoon on the sofa after her trip to the vet. Today, I have wonderful news about Mia, my Katrina rescued dog. As you know, she's had a cough that won't go away. Her vet has described it as caused by her enlarged heart (from mitral valve disease) putting pressure on the trachea, thus the coughing. But never before has it been this bad. As she got over the kennel cough, the cough persisted. So, I took her today to Dr. Roger Knighton, her veterinarian in Las Vegas. He had seen her a couple of years ago, shortly after she was diagnosed by another vet. Three really big things are that her oxygenation is 100 percent (her tongue and gums were bright pink), her pulse was normal and so was her heart rate. The drum roll is that Mia is not in congestive heart failure. He said the cough caused by the collapsing trachea doesn't seem to be interfering with oxygen intake. If I can increase her endurance by walking her more, then her heart should get a little smaller, and that should take care of the pressure on her trachea. It's amazing how everything with this particular disease seems to have a domino effect, as Dr. Knighton called it. He did recommend I get Mia a cough suppressant and said I should be able to find a holistic one. it should lessen the coughing. The other positive news is this: I've been trying to get weight off of Mia. When she hasn't felt well, it's been difficult, because instead of walking, she'll get me to pick her up. Then, I end up carrying her around the neighborhood while I hold the end of a two-in-one leash for my other two. Because of that, Mia hasn't been getting the exercise I'd like her to. But that didn't seem to matter; when she weighed in today, she was 8.6 pounds -- a pound less than two years ago. She'd been hovering around 9-1/2 pounds. So, to have gotten her down to a healthy weight for her breed and size, and having done that slowly, is incredible. The only negative thing he said was her murmur is now graded at 6 -- on a scale of 1 to 6. But it's just a grade, not a level. "Wow," he said as he put his ear next to, not on, her side. "I can hear the murmur without touching her." The final good news Dr. Knighton shared is that while Mia is going to one day die of heart disease, she is not in congestive heart failure. He said she seems healthy, happy and alert. He also said, with everything I'm doing and her body's positive response to it, could help her stay at this level for a long time -- years, even. "She's not dying tomorrow," he said. And that, after a harrowing couple of months with first bordatella, then a chronic, honking cough, was music to my ears.

Shaking Up Mia's Treatment

Sometimes it takes a storm to see the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Such has been the case with my holistic treatment of Mia, who was exposed to kennel cough (totally my fault, and I've been beating myself up ever since). It's been difficult to tell where the bordetella ended and the mitral valve disease began (or vice versa). There were days when Mia was like a ragdoll with no energy. I kept her hydrated with coconut water and fed with chicken-and-veggie organic baby food, to increase her energy level. As she's moved through the kennel cough--which basically has to run its course with some nutritional and supplemental support from me--the coughing didn't improve; in fact, it changed and became a dry cough. And that brings me back to her heart disease. The thing about mitral valve prolapse is it can seem like it's getting better, because, as the disease progresses into congestive heart failure, the murmur isn't as defined as before. I'm no doctor, but from what I understand, that's what's called a soft prolapse as the valve tissue deteriorates; it masks the seriousness of it. That seems to be what's been going on with Mia. And it took Mia's bad cold to bring it to my attention. We didn't get much sleep for a few nights, because Mia would sleep 30 minutes and wake up for two hours, coughing. Then, she had a great day and I thought we were over the hump. But, once again, she had a bad night. That's when it hit me that it's not just the kennel cough; her heart disease is progressing. A vet tech friend told me I should put Mia on heart meds. But I don't want her to go through renal failure (a side effect to some meds, which I imagine is painful). If Mia dies of anything, it will be congestive heart disease and not a fatal side effect to prescription drugs. So, I got back on the Internet. I found a site--Canine Heart Health. And that's when I discovered the benefits of cayenne for the heart. Here's something about its reported benefits:

One of the greatest herbs in the world, used by the famous Dr. Richard Schulze and Dr. John Christopher to heal thousands of people and animals from heart disease, circulation problems, internal and external bleeding etc. Its healing power is only questioned by those who have not used it. The hotter the cayenne, the better; it is natures heart food. Cayenne not only feeds the heart, it stimulates circulation (a must for any disease) and therefore gets more oxygen-rich blood to the oxygen starved heart... . It intensifies the metabolic action of the other herbs. It is extremely safe and should be used daily. To show what a miracle worker cayenne really is, Dr.Christropher related the experiment performed by medical doctors in the eastern United States--and printed in the medical journals. They put some live heart tissue in a beaker filled with distilled water, and feed it nothing but cayenne pepper, cleaning off sediments periodically and adding nothing else but distilled water to replace that which was lost from evaporation. During the experiment, they would have to trim the tissue every few days, because it would grow so rapidly! Having no control glands (pituitary and pineal) the tissue just continued to grow rapidly. They kept this tissue alive for fifteen years. After the doctor doing the experiment died, his associates kept it alive for two more years before destroying it for analysis. This shows the tremendous regenerative and healing power of cayenne, especially upon the heart.

If successful, it could be a major turning point in herbal support for Mia. Tomorrow, I'm adding cayenne, along with ginger (which complements cayenne), to her daily supplements. I'll let everyone know how it goes. Fingers, toes and paws crossed!