Nosey and Me

Nosey, in a doll stroller, with Cathy (or is that Cordelia?)

By Cathy Scott

One of my earliest memories is the day our family got a dog. We named her Nosey because she sniffed all around the yard and house when she first came home. She was a pound puppy, and she was loyal. 

My twin sister Cordelia and I were 3 years old. I remember one Saturday morning running outside to the front yard and standing there in anticipation as our father pulled up to the curb. He had left that morning for the county pound, but we didn't know it. All we were told was he was coming home with a surprise. At the time, we lived in the Valencia Park community of San Diego, and our street was loaded with kids. Some were there with us, waiting.

Dad walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. I've never forgotten it. Nosey practically fell out of the car, but I'm sure my Dad had carried her down. She didn't have a leash on, but she didn't go anywhere. All five of us -- my brothers and sisters -- started fawning over her. She was the cutest, sweetest little short, black-and-white puppy with floppy ears, part beagle, part Basset hound. I've loved short dogs ever since. 

When we moved to La Mesa, a suburb of San Diego, we lived on a cul-de-sac, and Nosey was always outside with us. When we played softball in the traffic circle, she'd stay on the sidewalk as we played. I remember hanging out at our friends' house (Vickie and Sharon, who lived down the street), and Nosey would sit on the lawn in their front yard, waiting for us to come out.

When I was 7, our father won a trip to a convention in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We drove there, stayed a week, and then went for another week to Missouri, where my father grew up. We left Nosey with family friends, who lived 10 miles away. A couple days into it, Nosey got out and ran away. They looked everywhere and couldn't find her. The father decided to check our house. Sure enough, Nosey had made it home and was hiding in a corner of our basement. He left her at our house and went back each day to check on her and feed her. Nosey had never before been to their house, so it amazed us all that she had found her way home. She was there to greet us when we returned. 

When Nosey contracted hepatitis shortly after we moved to La Mesa, when we were still in grade school, the five of us, without our parents, took her to the vet. My brother Michael, the oldest and probably 17 at the time, carried her across the canyon behind our house that led us straight to the nearest veterinary clinic. The vet gave us medicine and said she had to stay there, because she was too sick to go home. He wasn't sure she'd make it. All of us said no, that she was coming home with us. We instinctually knew she had a much better chance at home. And we were right.

Once home, we laid her down on the living room floor on a blanket, where she stayed for about a week, barely moving except to eat some and go outside. I remember that first day, laying my head on the carpeted floor next to her, petting her, and Nosey growling. She wanted to be left alone. So that's what we all did; we gave her space. Within a week, she appeared to be well on the road to recovery. In no time at all, she was back to herself. That illness was probably the only time she ever growled at any of us.

Nosey passed away at 15 years old after suffering a couple of years with arthritis. Even back then, our mother used a natural remedy for arthritis, but at the time we didn't know it was holistic. She had read somewhere that cod liver oil eased the swelling in joints, so she put it on Nosey's food. Nosey was then able to walk up the porch steps for the first time in a long while. It helped for a time until she could no longer move around easily. And she was loaded with either tumors or fatty deposits. To combat California fleas, we regularly put flea powder on her coat, which, back then, was in the form of diatomaceous earth, also natural. And every Sunday, Mother would cook a pot roast, and Nosey would get the bone afterward. Nosey would stand in the kitchen waiting for the bone, along with some carrots and potatoes thrown in for good measure.

Seeing Nosey as a puppy again in this photo brought back memories. Our mother always called her "the doggie in the window," so she must have been at a window when our father first saw her at the pound (much smaller facilities back then). No wonder all of us kids became animal lovers. Our dad made sure of that when he gave us a puppy -- and, later, Guinea pigs, a parakeet, hamsters, rabbits, fish, a cat, and a horse named Star. Nosey was a member of our family. I still miss her.

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!

Introducing Mia

Photo by Barb Davis Meet Mia, a five-year-old long-haired Chihuahua with severe mitral valve prolapse and a prominent heart murmur. She was rescued from 4 feet of water in New Orleans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina by responders Jeff Popowich and Ethan Gurney with Best Friends Animal Society. This blog is Mia's treatment and progress report. I can't stop the disease, but I can improve Mia's quality of life while slowing it down and relieving the symptoms. I weaned her off of meds a year ago when I was told by her vet she would probably die of renal failure before the heart disease. Not necessarily a choice that all would agree to, but after careful consideration, that's what I did. Two years ago, she was given just six months to live. I hit the books, studied natural treatments, and put her on supplements. Today, Mia keeps the rest of my crew -- Woody and Rosy -- in line. Mia is a special, sweet little girl who has been through a lot. She has a huge will to live, loves people, loves dogs (after warming up to them). Mia's rescue from the water is included in Pawprints of Katrina. I'll keep you up to date on her mostly good days, her sometimes bad days and what I'm doing naturally to slow the progression of her disease. Please e-mail me with any suggestions. And feel free as well to share your own stories here! --Cathy Mia and Lois Lane wrestling while having a playdate at Lois' home. (Video compliments of Larry and Pat Donoho.)