A chapter ends. Murphy joins Belle.

 It's no secret that Murphy was old. He's graced this blog for over eleven years and he was two when he first came to live at the Lair. back in December of 2010. He was a different sort of Shepherd than those that came before him. He was strong-willed and stubborn due to a history of abuse and neglect and he marched to his own beat. I never really tamed him, but we became friends and we understood and respected each other.

His health had been going down for some time. Like Lagniappe before him, he suffered from Canine Degenerative Myleopathy, a disease that slowly eats away at the nerves in his spine. He managed well but he was getting slower and weaker over time, even as he compensated for his declining back legs with more muscular forelegs. His eyesight was going and his hearing was gone, but I was slow to notice because he took his cues from the other dogs, mainly Belle, when it came time to bark at someone.

When she left last month, his decline became increasingly apparent. I never posted it here; it was just between us. And he never stopped trying. Even as it got harder for him, he soldiered on through sheer willpower and orneriness. That dog didn't know what "quit" meant.

Still, the writing was on the wall. I could see it and he knew it. He spent more time close to me and he slept against me every night the last few weeks, something he's never done before. I promised him I'd get him home, and I prayed to God for just that: let me get him home one more time.

Well yesterday we made it home. He'd had a rough night the night before but he was still up and walking yesterday morning. He was awake and alert the whole drive home from Seguin, Texas. But when I pulled into the driveway, he couldn't get out of the car without my help. He struggled up the steps, crossed the threshold, and collapsed on the floor. His floor. He was home but this was as far as he was going. I knew it in an instant. This was serious.

The vet was closed already but the office manager is a personal friend. She came in minutes to help with him, and then she called the vet at home and got an order for meds, which she went back to the office to get. Other friends came and helped me get him back onto his bed, and we moved it to his spot by the window. He couldn't get up again, We both knew it.

Last night I slept next to him on the couch, his bed moved so that he was right below me. When he'd stir, I'd pet him and talk to him, and give him more pills. And this morning, when the vet opened, I loaded him up and took him in. It was hard, but he's been my friend for a long time, and I owed him this. I stayed with him until he was gone, gone at the hands of a vet staff who he knew and who knew and liked him. He was my friend.

Eleven years. Thirteen years old. And I'm sad that it's over but I thank God that He blessed me with this wonderful companion for so long. Right now I believe that he's with Belle again across that Rainbow Bridge. And with Lagniappe. And Oliver. And Brandon who came before them. My Pack. Waiting for me.

And until we're reunited again, Merida and I will still have each other. And you'll get Merida stories and pics. I promise.

Murphy’s Day Out

Today was actually a nice day in Louisiana. No hurricanes, no 90-degree/95% humidity weather...just a nice fallish day. So I packed Old Murphy up in the car and we went out and had a morning, just the two of us.

And no, his sisters were not happy about being left behind. But we needed this.

It's no secret that Murphy isn't a young dog any more. I got him back on December 8th, 2010, almost 11 years ago, and he was at least 2 years old then. 13 years is old for a German Shepherd. And I'd be lying if I said that he wasn't showing his age.

He was fast once; probably the fastest dog I've ever had, especially when he was bolting away from me, doing his own thing and reveling in the freedom. These days he just walks, stiff-legged and slow. He's got the arthritis. But damned if he don't still get around just fine.

First time I saw him, he was trying to jump an 8-foot chain-link fence because he was hell-bent on sinking his fangs into me. He wasn't exactly friendly or socialized. And it was a year of constant work before I could even trust him around anyone else even on a leash. But these days he's beloved everywhere in the French Quarter, welcomed in many bars, and a favorite of the neighborhood kids. His jumping days are past though; he can no longer get into the truck without help, and he's even quit climbing up on the furniture. He still gets up on the counter and steals my food though.

He's a lot slower these days, but he's not done yet. Not by a long shot. Still, we're at the point where I like to just go spend some quality time alone with him, and enjoy the world at his pace. So today we went to Audubon Park, where he got a good brushing and a nail clipping (he hates both) but then he got to go walkabout and sniff all the things and get the pets. And of course he had to pose.

Then it was home for a nap. It was a good time out but now a nap in the sunbeam by the window was in order.

He's a senior now but he's still a serious watchdog and loyal defender of the Lair. And he's still my pal.

Pop Quiz, life with Shepherds.

Pop Quiz. 

You work all day and you miss lunch, but it's ok because you know it's Taco Tuesday and one of your favorite bars has an incredible pop-up outside that makes incredible steak burritos. You spend your day fantasizing about the burrito you're going to get. Finally you head over there, and because it's so popular, you have to wait 45 minutes for it, time that you kill in the bar drinking beer and watching the bar TV. Finally you get your burrito and it's hot and smells fantastic. You rush home and set it on the counter so you can was up. Then you realize that your phone is still out in the car. You go out to get that phone, taking less than thirty seconds, and when you come back, a German Shepherd has your burrito and is starting to eat it. What do you do?

WHAT DO YOU DO?!

 

Fuck that dog. I took it away from him and ate the rest. And it was still delicious.

So I'm back

 And I realize that it's been hella long, but the old electronic gear wasn't doing it, and trying to do Blogger from an iPhone was quite the exercise in frustration. But now I have a new computer that runs something more modern than Windows 7 (Don't judge me!) and it plays nice with the new phone I had to buy last week when the iPhone 5 finally bit the dust.  In sum, I'm reasonably modernized and connected again.

So...where to start?  The three doggoes are still here and doing fine. Murphy had a toe removed last month do to an infection that wouldn't stop, and he also had a fractured tooth with an underlying abscess removed and fixed, so he's feeling fine again and I'm feeling poor. (Vet bill for him alone last month was higher than my mortgage payment.) But he's my pal, so...

"Three-toed Murphy" he shall be known as. 

And it was worth it to see how much better he walked and ate after doing all this work. Apparently he'd been masking it well but it had been impeding him a lot.

Belle's just Belle--a sweet, gentle, fairly obedient dog.

And Merida...Sigh. There's always one.

Don't let the cute face fool you...Baby Murder Dog has killed four chickens and a pigeon in recent months. but when not slaughtering domestic livestock, she's really quite cuddly. 

There's a new van project here too. Meet Rocinante.

I picked this up  at auction a couple months back. It's diesel and 4-wheel drive and it's factory built for off-road use. I'm converting it into a camper and I just finished a first trial trip with it, going from Louisiana to the California desert and back, Stopping to visit friends along the way, of course. It's still a work in progress, but it's performance was flawless this time out, between pulling 16mpg hwy and clawing up jeep trails in the desert, it did everything I asked of it. Right now there's a bed in the back but a kitchen and solar power system are coming next. Merida came along with me on this trip and while she's not exactly an adventure dog (she prefers to sleep in or under the truck), she nonetheless had a good time, being it "standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona"

or hanging out at Hoover Dam

Or melting in the California Desert

She even saw Mexico and had a real taco.

Not an unhappy dog.

But now we're home and I've got 21st century tech finally and blogging shall resume, with stories and pics and other musings on our pre-apocalyptic days. But I'm only sticking around so long as I get the idea that I'm not just posting for the same six readers. If you're still out there, let me know, eh?

 

Ten years ago yesterday

 I was going to post this yesterday but I decided that it was going to be General Yeager's day. I checked with Murphy and he was good about it.  Crazy old dog...can't believe it's been ten years.

He's here!

Ten years ago, the dog foster drove down from Maryland to mi casa in West Virginia and dropped off this dog.  "Can't sell him to you because the rescue considers him too dangerous. Just take him. And if you really have trouble with him, you can bring him back."  With those words of encouragement, they snuck out of the house while the dog was exploring and they were gone. And this dog cried and cried, because he'd been abandoned by his people again.

And he was a handful. He was spirited and usually obedient, but only when he was within arm's reach. And he knew. So we had issues like this:

Damn dog!

And him "helping" me reload ammunition: 

Not helpful!

We had a lot of disagreements those early days, because he'd been abused and neglected and was almost feral after a spending year in the dog pound, but he came around, and while he's never been the "perfect" dog, he's a damned good dog, and that's good enough for me,

Aging friends

Someone's neck was hurting so bad that he couldn't bend down to get his food, so he had to lay down to eat the other day.

Don't know what it was from, but he was whining every time he had to move his head so I took him to the vet and got him checked out and got him some muscle relaxers and he seems just fine again. In fact, he was "fine" enough to join Belle in chasing chickens around the back yard yesterday, and one slow chicken left Belle with a mouth full of feathers before it got back under the fence. But I'll be watching that neck of his. I know he's got some arthritis in his legs that's troubling him, but he powers through it most of the time. It does suck to watch your canine pals grow old.

But I will add that the next day, Belle tried to sneak in and take some of his food and that low, ominous warning growl he gave her was enough to get my attention as well as hers. She didn't try again. That's my Murphy, right there!

That Murphy...

I took the dogs to the bar last night. They always get a treat when the bartender's not busy.

Murphy wasn't in a mood to wait.