Natural Treatment for a Dog's Sniffles

My shih-tzu Joey's right eye is swollen again and he's congested; he has a rattle when he breathes, and his nose is congested and drippy. His eye was swollen when he was rescued more than a year ago, and it comes and goes.

So, I thought I'd try Vitalzym on him this time. I give it daily to Rosy, my basset-heeler mix, who has malignant dermal melanoma (and two-and-a-half years after diagnosis appears strong and healthy).

Vitalzym is loaded with systemic enzymes that -- as one Web site put it -- "act like little Pac-Mans that go around 'munching' mucus, inflammation, fibrin, viruses and scar tissue in the body."

I'm hoping it will work as an anti-inflammatory for congestion too. We'll see. Joey's been under the weather all day, so it might be allergies. The weather here in the Mojave Desert is up and down right now temperature-wise, plus it's been really windy. Fingers and paws crossed it helps. Will keep you posted!

Zoe Means Life

Reprinted from Best Friends Animal Society


By Cathy Scott

It’s a new day for a wire-haired fox terrier named Zoe.

Life was scary at first for this former puppy mill dog. After all, Zoe, who was originally named Cilantro, was born inside a Midwest puppy mill. For the next six-and-a-half years, she was used as a breeder. So, adjusting to life outside a cage was a lengthy process.

It wasn’t always smooth sailing for her adopters, Pamela Clifford and Lorrie Webb, either. In fact, they moved from a condominium to a house because of complaints from neighbors about Zoe and her bark. In a nutshell, adopting Zoe “uprooted our entire life.” But they’re not the kind of people to give up, especially on a dog.

Zoe and Kallie

It was late May 2009 when Zoe and more than 200 dogs - unwanted, used-up breeders - were rescued and transported to shelters on the East Coast where there’s a high demand for purebred dogs. Around 30, including Zoe, within that group went to Best Friends Animal Sanctuary.

Once at the sanctuary, shy Zoe was diagnosed with mid-level dental disease and her ears were inflamed and dirty. Around that time, Lorrie and her friend Patricia were at the sanctuary attending a workshop. One day at the sanctuary, they spotted Zoe and a cocker spaniel in a run together. They stopped to visit.

“We just had to have her,” Pamela said. A short time later, they returned to the sanctuary to finalize the adoption, and then headed south to La Jolla, Calif., where Zoe went to live with Kallie, a rescued shelter dog, and a cat named Little Girl.

Never having lived in a home, Zoe couldn’t seem to get the hang of housetraining. And, she was frightfully skittish.

That first week, Pamela took time off from work to be with Zoe. “She slept every day,” Pamela said. “Any movement terrified her. She would freeze in her spot. Every time I turned around, she’d freeze.”

Then Zoe was diagnosed with pancreatitis, an inflammation or infection of the pancreas. “We thought we were going to lose her. We went to emergency. We put her on antibiotics and changed her food to high-end dehydrated,” she said.

Also, Pam said, “She was a special-needs dog. I had no idea that it would be the amount of work it was and the patience it would take.”

The first time Zoe was groomed was an experience for everybody involved. “Who would have ever thought a small dog could take down three grown women?” Pamela said. “Oh, those nails she had.”

Next, “Our little Zoe started to bark” - so much so, they unfortunately learned, that when Pamela and Lorrie were at work, she barked nonstop. A few months later, they decided to move into a house in nearby Pont Loma, a coastal community in San Diego.

Life's a beach

With hard work, patience and time, Zoe gained confidence - and manners. Ten months later, she now loves to take walks along the tide pools near La Jolla Cove, play with toys and wrestle with Kallie. “She’s not barking,” Pamela said. “We come home and everybody’s quiet and calm.”

She’s still a bit afraid of men but is learning to be bolder. When asked if Zoe had adjusted well to life in a home, Pamela said, “I don’t know if she’s well-adjusted or if we’re just in love with her.”

The love Zoe is getting is exactly what makes it all worthwhile for people like Kelli Ohrtman, a specialist for Best Friends’ Puppies Aren’t Products campaign who organizes and oversees the Pup My Ride program.

“The progress Zoe has made with her new family is what keeps us all going,” Kelli said. “Zoe - and the thousands of other dogs like her - is the reason this work is so important.”

“Until she was rescued through Pup My Ride,” Kelli continued, “her life was very small. She was confined to a small cage with no love, no playtime, no freedom to act like a dog. The transition from that small life to living in a home can be difficult. Even accepting love from humans can be difficult for dogs who haven’t ever been given that. But with time, patience and understanding, these dogs blossom.”

Seeing Zoe today “prance around with her friend, snuggle on the couch and run on the beach is the sort of happy ending that makes this work worth it,” she said.
For Pamela and Lorrie, they believe they’ve learned volumes from Zoe and gotten back more than they’ve given.

“If you’ve never seen resilience, she’s the epitome of it,” Pamela said. “Every day she [had] looked sad. It's remarkable she survived what she’s been through.”

Then, one day, a miracle happened. Zoe wagged her tail.

“The first time her tail wagged,” she said, “we were so ecstatic. We said to each other, ‘Look at that.’ It was like watching a baby take her first steps. Zoe is just amazing.”

Photos courtesy of Pamela Clifford and Lorrie Webb.


To view a video of Zoe and family, click here.

The Crew in the 'Hood

By Cathy Scott

Sunday morning was sunny for about a one-hour window, in between the rain in the Mojave Desert. So I got everybody into their harnesses (above left-right, Rosy, Hollywood and Joey), and we hurried out the door for a walk in the 'burbs.

Gypsy (pictured left) lagged behind a bit, so that's why she's pictured by herself. Once, I tried her on a coupler -- two on one leash -- with Joey, but it was more like Joey was pulling her than she walking at her own speed. So I ended up carrying her most of the way.

She's not up to their level yet. After all, the Gypsy girl is a puppy mill survivor with a back leg that turns in from living in a cramped wire cage for two years. We'll try the coupler again another time. She's a trooper, though, and loves to go on walks. It took just two trips around our neighborhood for her to figure out that it was a really cool thing to do.

Gypsy now gets just excited as my other dogs when the harnesses and leashes come out and it's time to get "dressed."

Passers-by in cars sometimes slow down to look at the small, medium and extra-large dogs I'm basically steering down the sidewalk. Some even make comments like, "Boy, that's a handful." It looks like it, but they're not. They all know the drill, are great on leashes and love their walks -- and I have just as much fun as they do.

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.