For Peaches

In the last two years the plight of the street dog has garnered much support within both the local and the international community. Organizations like Embark, Blue Paw, Canine Life Support and the more recent Adopt a Dog in Sri Lanka have made great efforts to enlighten the world about the everyday perils, cruelties and hardship that dogs on the street endure. I applaud their efforts and truly believe they do good work but wish to draw light on yet another issue that must be given equal weight in the mind of the animal lover. That is the case of the pet shop dogs.

You may have read a story that I documented a few months back about my own experience with pet shops, when I decided to buy a Dachshund who was in pretty bad shape. If you haven’t you can read it here. We came to a point where we believed she would die, and while I held on to the belief that she would not simply because she could not, as what would be the point in world where a dog finally found her family, only to be taken away from them a few short days later, I wondered in my heart for all those families that were not as lucky as I was?

A few days ago I saw that a friend of mine had got a new dog. A tiny little Shihtzu pup, 2 and half months old, who had been aptly given the name Peaches. She had been bought from a pet shop where she had been in a small cage along with two German Shepherds, a Pug and a beagle who looked unwell. I looked at the picture on Facebook, even showed it to my friends and we all gushed at how cute the puppy was. The next day my friend told me that the pup had fallen ill and the vet had told her it was mild case of tick fever but not long after Peaches had begun to vomit and when they had taken her back to the vet they had been told that it was Parvo. The word Parvo in itself is terrifying to a dog owner, in the same way that the word cancer is terrifying to a parent of a small child. The only difference being that cancer has the possibility of treatment but with Parvo- the rapid progression of the disease means a very, very high chance (91% according to Wikipedia) that your puppy will die in 4 or 5 days. 

Parvovirus is extremely contagious and spreads from dog to dog with alarming ease, through direct and indirect contact. The only household disinfectant that kills it is bleach, without which the virus can remain active for even up to a year, withstanding even extremely hot and cold temperatures. The only way to protect your dog is to vaccinate, usually given as soon as immunity from the mother wears off at just five weeks old. Symptoms begin with lethargy and loss of appetite and progress to intense vomiting and diarrhea. Parvo in itself does not kill, but it is the dehydration that does it. 

Peaches was two and half months old, any immunity her mother may have had would have long since worn off and being a Shihtzu, which is a small breed of dog, intravenous fluids would be a challenge as her veins would be very small. From the onset, her future did not seem promising. She was not put into quarantine, she was simply given treatment. My friend had been informed that there was a supposed “parvo epidemic” with six other dogs having come in with similar symptoms. 

If you are a dog owner and you have had a sick puppy in your house then I do not need to tell you what it is like. The constant worry, the sleepless nights, the nagging thought that you are going to lose him or her. They can’t talk, they can’t tell you where it hurts and you can tell them that the bad man with the needle is actually a doctor who is going to make you better.  You cry and then you cry some more. Days pass with alarming speed, nights are long and restless. The world spins. My friend went through all of this with Peaches. And despite a marginal improvement on the second day, today on day number four she has taken a turn for the worse. My friend woke up this morning and found her motionless, though she was still breathing. They took her to the vet where she was put in a back room and they were asked to leave her there. Now we wait and pray. Only a miracle will help her now.

I vowed that despite however angry I may be I would try to keep my own feelings out of this article and only report the facts, leaving you to form your own conclusion. A difficult task, when it seems like an innocent puppy is paying the price for a disease that could so easily have been prevented, but I shall try. This incident has raised the following questions which I will leave you to answer.

Why was the puppy’s vaccination not given? Why is it that with any pet shop, when breeds like Great Dane pups, bellies distended with worms, underfed and unhealthy can cost up 35,000 rupees, the dogs are never given a vaccine which is a fraction of that cost? 

Why was the puppy not quarantined at the vet until the last day? Even a suspected Parvo case MUST be quarantined? Was there really a ‘Parvo epidemic’ or did one infected pup come in and spread the disease to all the others, through the shared vet?

Life is hard for all of us in Sri Lanka. But most of all for those that do not have a voice and cannot raise it in protest. If you can’t trust the breeder and you can’t trust your vet, then who can you trust?

Peaches passed away a few hours after this article was written. A fate probably suffered by the other puppies in the cage as well. She is not the first; she will not be the last. May she rest in peace.

Haven says goodbye (for now) to Puggy

Basking in the sun!

Since our inception in November 09, I would say it took up until April for things to really get off ground. The longer stays started coming in and of those, one now draws to a close. Puggy (yes, she is a Pug!) came to us early last month for trial run and then returned for a stay which lasted over a month. Today, she leaves us to be united with her true family.

Saying goodbye is the hardest part of this job. We broke a lot of rules with Puggy. She spent almost no time in the enclosure as she got along so well with us and the other dogs, and I learned from her that what they say about Pugs is true: small dog, BIG personality.

Puggy likes to sleep on top of something

Puggy had to have one eye removed due to an infection when she was just a little girl. However, being short of an eye has in no way diminished her ability to express herself! She has so many emotions, mostly happy but sometimes angry and jealous. We spent many days having to make it up to her if we had shown too much affection to another boarder, and having to coax her to eat as she turned her little nose up if her meals were served in the enclosure. Caring for a Pug requires some special requirements too, as the folds of skin on her face have to be properly cleaned to prevent from infections of the eye.

If you are thinking of getting a Pug, I urge you to think carefully before doing so. Yes, they make marvelous pets, but they do have a lot of health issues. The genetic manipulations that have resulted in the creation of this breed have rendered it less than perfect. I suppose only Mother Nature knows to create the perfect creature, and the Pug is not the only breed to suffer from complications as a result of our meddlesome ways. Getting a Pug is a decision that requires much thought, just like with most other breeds.

Puggy turned out to be great with cats, puppies and birds. I spent many evenings watching TV with her at my feet. She comes barreling through when I return from work, full steam ahead, much to the irritation of the other dogs who are rather particular about personal space. When they would reprimand her for this she would look at them with her single eye, like a telescope as if to say "What IS your problem?" I often said to her in these situations "Boundaries, Puggy. Boundaries" But of course, she ignored me.

With her bear

Puggy has made an impression with me and every member of my staff. We are going to miss her tremendously. Dogs have come and of course, dogs have gone, and yet I am still unused to the feeling of having to finally say goodbye. I don't suppose I will ever truly get used to it. So, tonight when all of us at home, sullen-faced and glum we will have to remind ourselves that this is what makes us truly good at our jobs. Because Haven is the only kennel, where your dogs will be loved as you love them, and missed as you miss them when you leave them with us.

Common myths about dogs in Sri Lanka

I tire of this country for many reasons. Perhaps the thing that irritates me most is some of the ridiculous notions that Sri Lankan people have about dogs. Being an animal that has been domesticated for so many years, you would think that by now we'd have figured some of this stuff out, but no. I take my dogs everywhere, and whenever I do, my husband and I become the village circus with people astounded at the fact that my dogs don't jump through the windscreen or eat them. So I am going list some common myths about dogs, particular to this country in the hopes of dispelling them for good!

Silly Dog Myth Number 1: A fierce dog is a good dog

How many times have you heard the phrase "Balla hondai, hari sarai?" (The dog is good he is very fierce). Well that is complete rubbish. Your sole objective behind raising a dog should not be to get protection out of it. And furthermore, what you are going to end up with is a dog that is unpredictable and aggressive. What happens if your dog bites a child? Can you assume responsibility for that? Can you blame the dog? No of course not, the dog has not been taught to be friendly. It is in a dog's nature to protect, you needn't hone this instinct to such a degree that the dog becomes uncontrollable. Your dog will know when you need protection.

Silly Dog Myth Number 2: Dogs need milk

All animals drink milk when they are younger. Their mother dogs milk that is. When a dog is a puppy it is sometimes alright to give them milk in the mornings, but adult dogs do not need milk. Remember, human grade milk is different to milk that is produced by a nursing bitch. There are some schools of thought that allude to the fact that milk may cause worms in an adult dogs, but the primary reason for not giving your dog milk is that human grade milk has a very high lactose content, and in order to digest this the dog must have a specific lactose splitting enzyme. Not all dogs do. Best to be on the safe side. Dogs can also be allergic to the protein in milk and can be lactose intolerant as well.

Silly Dog Myth Number 3: Dogs can eat anything

No your dog definitely cannot eat anything. Some big time no no's are sugar which can cause dental problems, obesity and diabetes along with raw eggs (quite commonly given here I have noted) which in addition to the usual threat of food poisoning, also interferes with the absorption of vitamin B in a dog. You must absolutely NOT give your dog chocolate. It is extremely poisonous to dogs and can even cause death. Salt is really bad too.



Silly Dog Myth Number 4: Dogs can be tied up all day long

I can't really imagine the thinking that goes into this one. But unfortunately it happens all the time. Dogs are chained and kept continuously, without any exercise. Dogs need exercise just like humans do. Some people rationalise it by saying that if the dog isn't tied then it will run away. Well, wouldn't you want to escape if you were always tied up?






Silly Dog Myth Number 5: Dogs become fierce if they eat raw meat

No, your dog will absolutely not, never ever, become fierce if you give it raw meat. If you were raising a tiger on the other hand, I'd advise against it. There is an ongoing debate about giving dogs raw meat, the arguments against are mainly due to the fact that some meat may be contaminated. But dogs are descendant from wolves and we all know what wolves eat. A dogs system is designed to deal with the bacteria that is found in raw meat so I personally think that as long as the meat is good quality, it is ok to give it to your dog. Meat cleans their teeth pretty well too.

The Broken Road

We had a power cut just then and knowing Elska was afraid of the dark I scooped her up in my arms and took her to the sofa. We sat there huddled together as the sky turned from twilight rose to night’s  deep blue, my worry rippling in waves threatening to spill over in helpless tears. Meal time came and Elska showed no interest in her food, a first since the day I had got her. We prepared a special soup and squirted some in her jowls through a syringe and though Elska didn’t want to eat her food she could not bring herself to waste the few drops that fell to the floor. She lapped those up anyway in the way that only a dog who has known the enduring pangs of hunger would.

We got our electricity back and I watched my darling girl struggle to sit. What had previously been a dog who would fall so sound asleep if I held her even the heat of these March days, now would not even look me in the eye. She kept retreating to corners and obsessively digging at the cement floor, turning around and around in circles. I called the emergency number for the vet.

I explained her symptoms and they asked me to bring her over, and at that precise moment a friend visited so we were able to take her in his car. Just before we left, even he held her head in his hands and said ‘Get better ok? You’re going to be fine’. Elska just had that endearing quality to her, anyone who met her would like her in minutes.

Big miss and little miss ready to go!

It was only during the journey to the vet that I was truly confronted by the stark reality that Elska may not make it. I had woven a rich tapestry of all the various moments that Elska would share with me in the fabric of my imagination, not once truly allowing for the slightest possibility that Elska may die. It was the same kind of inflexible belief I had when brought her home. I knew she could have rabies, that she could bite me, that she could make my own dogs sick. But I knew she wouldn’t. Childishly I believed that because I had taken her home with love in my heart, that that same love would protect us. That love would protect us because it had to. And in the same way I had never once truly admitted to myself that Elska would die because she wouldn’t. She would live because she had to. Her life could not end here, after two days of a full belly and a thousand kisses. Everything that I held in this universe to be true would shatter if Elska didn’t survive. Nothing would make sense to me anymore.

Kisses!

I felt like a fool. I felt so naïve. How could this be happening? And overwhelmingly it began to get clearer and clearer what it would mean to me if she died. I had known for two days. But I loved her. I loved her as much as the dogs who I had seen from puppyhood to now and then I loved her a little bit more. I loved her extra for the love she had lost and the love she had never known. And then in the car on the way to the vet, I cried for my Elska once more.

The doctors informed me that they suspected that Elska’s malnourished frame could not take the heavy medication they had to give her. They gave her a heavy dose of antihistamines to counteract any allergic reaction she might have and also to help her sleep. The treatment for filarial heartworms, I learned is indeed very difficult on a dog’s system and is almost always administered with a combination of other drugs for the various side effects. On a healthy dog, it is tough enough, but on one such as Elska I shuddered inwardly to imagine. We thanked the doctors profusely and got back into the car. Neither of us said anything but through the thickness of worry I realized a favourite song of mine was playing on the radio.

“Every long lost dream, led me to where you are

Others who broke my heart; they were like northern stars

Guiding me on my way, into your loving arms

This much I know, is true

That God blessed the broken road, that led me straight to you”

A single tear escaped my eye. But this; was a happy one.

A turn for the worse

Elska's illness earns her an upgrade onto furniture

I knew that the road to recovery would be an arduous process for the both of us and Elska as well. Daily visits to the doctor were a must and since we lived in Malabe I was paying 1850/- per day for Elska’s treatment and for three-wheeler fare to and fro. I thanked whoever was listening every day that we had international funding. On the morning of Elska’s second visit to the vet, we discovered a nasty surprise in our balcony. She had left us a little present and close inspection revealed streaks of blood in her stool. I didn’t think anything of it at first and had stayed at home from work and so sent the husband to the vet in my place.

Deep asleep

When he returned from the vet that afternoon Elska was in good spirits and did her little jump of joy when she saw me. I asked the husband what had conspired in my absence and he said that when they inserted the thermometer into Elska’s bum it came away with more blood. They had instructed him to watch for vomiting and to bring her immediately if she did. It was then that my heart sank down to my toes and twenty feet into the ground below them. The dreaded P word snaked its way into my anxious mind and fear bloomed like a mushroom cloud of dust after an explosion in my chest.  What had I done by bringing Elska into my home? Had I put the lives of my own dogs at risk? I knew the Parvovirus could take months, even years to disintegrate and their wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I would find every single area where Elska had pooped and spray it with bleach. I ran to my laptop and googled Parvovirus. What I found gave me some relief I must admit. As long as my dogs were vaccinated they were safe and in addition Elska only showed one sign of the many symptoms of Parvovirus, which was bloody diarrhea. The others such as vomiting and fever were not present. Parvovirus is a virus which is at present the biggest killer of puppies. It functions by causing enteritis which is an inflammation of the intestines.  This is followed by severe vomiting and blood in the stool, fever and lowered white count. It is rare in adult dogs and an adult dog may not exhibit any visible symptoms. There is no cure for the virus itself only palliative treatment is administered to protect the dog from dehydration. Antibiotics may also be given to snuff out any infection that may further hinder the dog. Contrary to popular belief the virus is airborne but is only spread through fecal matter. It is however, highly contagious.

Another thing I found in my research was that dog owners that had experienced this disease firsthand all reported that the diarrhea from an infected dog had a distinct odour. A pungent, sickly smell of decay and an undertone of an incredible sweetness. They all agreed that whatever the smell was like, once you smelled it, you’d never forget it. So I took Elska down to the garden and I waited for her to poop.

I am not ashamed to say it, I have done it before and will do it again. Sometimes you have to go through sh*t to save a dog. I mean this in the literal sense. You have to sift through their sh*t. So I waited for Elska to poop and when she did I got down on my hands and knees and got a big whiff. It smelled about as disgusting as it should, no more and no less. There was blood in it though. Unmistakable red blood, not the dark kind that has been processed through the system. I was unhappy with my finding so I decided to dig a little deeper. So I got a stick and I dug. I held the stick to me nose and again smelled nothing too foul. So far so good!

I took a moment to look hastily behind me as there is a construction site in the neighbouring land and it was quite likely that 200 odd workers just saw me poke a pile of poo with stick and sniff it. But my dignity had to take a backseat. For now at least.

The blood in her stool worried me but I knew that there were a hundred different causes for that and as the day progressed I began to worry less and less. Elska slept for several hours and at around five in the evening I noticed that she was sleeping a little longer than I thought was normal. I ran down the stairs in a clever ploy to see if she would follow me as she always did but this time, she didn’t. She was so deeply asleep that she didn’t even notice I was gone. When I carried outside for her business she felt a little limp in my arms. When I set her down she tried to crawl under our jeep. Something was wrong I was sure of it.

Elska meets her new daddy

Elska's best sad face

 They gave her shots, which she didn’t like and sent us home. She ate a big lunch and a big dinner and we headed off to bed. I knew I would have to wake up in the middle of the night when my husband returned, so as to ensure that Elska didn’t get frightened when she saw him for the first time. He is a tall man, my husband. At around one a.m I heard the sound of our jeep and got out of bed. Elska got off her rug and went downstairs and then came back up again. She looked nervous. I carried her down once more and while she was still in my arms I instructed my husband to pet her. He said “Hello Elska” and patted her head, gently. I set her down then, at which point she nervously scampered behind me and sat. But she allowed my husband to pet her and I could see that she was relaxing under his touch.

Elska on her Daddy's lap, on the way to the vet

We went back upstairs and I recounted the whole story of Elska, what the pet shop owner had said and what the vet had said too. My husband too was shocked at how cruelly she had been treated. When you pass by or see a dog in a situation like that, it is upsetting to be sure. But when you begin to get to know the dog, and the dog becomes your own, the emotion that you feel is overwhelming.

Skinny little Dachsund

I know my dogs you see. As in I really know them. They all have distinct personalities, some are not morning dogs and others get offended if we are in bed past sunrise. Some are tactile creatures, reveling in any kind of affection while others are aloof. All dogs are loyal but some follow you from room to room. Dogs exhibit  marked characteristics and are extremely expressive. If you know how , you can understand a dogs psyche far more than you could imagine. It is this understanding that leads to well balanced dogs. If you know what they need as opposed to what they want, or what you would like to give them, then you are in a better position to raise a dog.

In the little time that I had gotten to know Elska I could see glimpses of her personality that shone through, despite her inherent nervousness. I knew already that she was extremely affectionate and was an attention fiend. She would take any kind of attention whenever she could get it, even when in a deep sleep were I to reach out and stroke her, subconsciously she would show me her stomach so that I could rub it. She slept the fittest if I kept her on my chest or lap. And she was my little shadow. She followed me everywhere. She had a perpetual need to know where I was at all times. She was a good dog, sensitive to my tone of voice and obedient. She would make a great pet and companion, with a little work and a lot of love I was beginning to realise that Elska was indeed living up to my belief that she could indeed be the world’s best dog if only someone would care to find out. I had cared and so did my husband now. It was a chance we took, but it slowly began to take shape as one of the best decisions we had ever made in our lives.