Farewell, My Heart

On Friday, the 20th of December, I had to say goodbye to my Samhain, my Sam, Sam the Man, Sam-Sam. I am crushed beyond words, so I'll try to spend a minimal time on the sad, and share some of the cherished memories.

Our last photo on Friday afternoon.

Sam had been fighting Hemangiosarcoma since sometime before the end of March. Just before my birthday (which seems to be the time for things to collapse to utter garbage), he was diagnosed with splenic Hemangiosarcoma, and had the splenectomy.

Friday, after a very good day at work, the dogs got their dinner. Within a short time, Sam started showing the symptoms of bloat, and I rushed him to the emergency vet. (My dad was very brave and didn't scream once as we were racing to the vet and weaving in and out of traffic!) The vet confirmed my apprehension, and said she thought there was another tumor which had possibly caused the bloat. Sam had thrown up a few times in the past few weeks, which was unusual, and putting that together with the bloat, I felt the time had come to let him go. He was already six months past his prognosis, and putting him through a surgery would not have been the kindest thing to do for him.

There are a bunch of posts about Sam here (a couple popped up in search that don't have anything to do with him) which go back to the very beginning, when he was a newborn.

Last week at the office, helping out in the archives

He was there for me when those I trusted most, loved most, left. He was always ready to play, ready to cuddle, ready to go for an adventure, ready to hang out and watch movies. He loved people so much that he was the unofficial greeter of the UPS store next door to the office. People went nuts over him. 

The kids this past Hallowe'en were telling other kids and parents that there was a "really awesome dog" at my house that they had to meet. The babies thumped him hard on the head and he just gave them tiny little kisses on their chubby legs. The toddlers threw their little arms around his neck and he stood still so he didn't knock them over. The teenage girls fawned over him and called him handsome, and he preened and gave them mighty slurps and giant, full-body wags. The moms and dads were amazed at what a good boy I had.

He adored them, one and all.

And he was good to the newest addition of our family, even though she's a terrible brat and does not care about pleasing anyone, unlike my Sam, who was crushed to report he had, in fact, tipped over the trash can.

I don't know what I'm going to do without him.

Hallows 2019

Hallowe'en in L.A.! The fires we've had have made the traffic so bad!
How bad was it?
It was so bad, people were just dying to get out of their cars when they got home!

I didn't do very much decorating this year. I sold some props last year in the hopes that when my Hallowe'en Spirit finally returns, I can make new and more beautiful props than ever before.

A few favorites still showed their faces to good effect, and honestly, everyone who came to the door last night was just as delighted as if I'd put up my full graveyard with all the pneumatics, like I used to.

Dad graciously carved the pumpkins this year, and I was really impressed with the faces. I thought he did a great job!

I even put my own, handmade cbeeswax candles in them which was pretty gratifying!

My beautiful Sam (not pictured) was the doggo of the hour. Sweet and gentle with the tiniest of Trick-or-treaters, he was convinced that everyone had come to see him! It even got around that there was a sweet and beautiful dog at our place, and people came just to pet him.

I'm so grateful to have had him for one more Hallowe'en! I hope he'll make it to next year's.

Anyway, Happy New Year to you all. I hope you had the most wonderful of Hallowe'ens! 

Dog Noir

About three months ago, now, my Sam was diagnosed with Splenic Hemangiosarcoma. He came through the surgery very well, but the oncologist told me the usual life expectancy after surgery was three to six months with chemotherapy. 

I just couldn't see putting my boy through that. Fortunately, there are a couple of alternative medicines which seem to have some ability to make him comfortable for however long he has left, and having joined the Hemangiosarcoma Facebook page, I have some hope he may last longer than what the doctor thought. He's still eating and completely ball-obsessed, which is situation normal for him! He's even taken well to the new addition in our home, Grace, a black German Shepherd pup.

Those of you who have followed this blog for a long time know how much I've loved my Sam and can imagine how devastating the diagnosis was for me. I am nowhere near ready to let him go, but since I don't get a vote on that, I decided that I do get a vote on how he's remembered.

Enter Diana Lundin Pet Photography! I found her webwsite through a Facebook ad promoting her "Dog Noir" style photoshoot. 

Since I am a lover of all things atmospheric and spooky, I decided to contact Diana for a session. I explained my (and Sam's) situation, letting her know that sooner would be better than later for a shoot. She expressed her sympathy and suggested a few spots for the shoot. L.A. has numerous locations suitable for a noir-themed photo shoot. We kicked around a few different options, and finally decided on a bridge which was featured in Orson Welles' last film, A Touch of Evil.

It had been rainy all week, and rain was promised for the next day, too, so I was a little nervous we'd have to reschedule. The weather gods were smiling on us, though, and gave us a rain-free afternoon and a beautiful sky with only a few fluffy clouds highlighting the sunset.

To put it mildly, handling two dogs, one of which is a puppy with no concern whatsoever for pleasing you and all manner of interest in bugs and leaves, was difficult. Diana and her photographic assistant came prepared, though, and helped me to get the dogs pointed in the right direction and get me to look appropriately distressed!

She came by the house to drop off the large framed print and the 8" x 10" I ordered, and I was so pleased with the results!

I'm so glad I decided to have Diana do this specific type of shoot for us! I think she caught the dark moodiness of the Noir genre masterfully! Both Sam and Grace look wonderful; and it's not easy to photograph all-black dogs. 

I honestly can't think of a better way to remember him when he's gone. I'll treasure this always!

Sam and the Continuation of the Craptacular

My sweet boy a few weeks after surgery.

For those of you who aren't a Facebook friend or who haven't been following my blog for all that long, that doggo in the pic is my sweetheart, Sam. (If you're interested in his history, you can click here.)

Unfortunately, a few weeks ago, Sam stopped eating. Since I had already gone through stomach cancer with my old Shepherd, Josey, I was immediately concerned this was a repeat of that situation.

It turns out I was partially right. Sam was diagnosed with Hemangiosarcoma. He had a baseball-sized tumor growing in the middle of his spleen which needed to come out. They diagnosed him after sending it out for a biopsy. I found out on my birthday. Ugh.

Sam is still with me, but his energy level is down. Since this type of cancer is vascular, the next tumor could show up anywhere. The oncologist I consulted with said that usually happens within a month, and most dogs only survive three to six months after the surgery, and that's with chemo. I just can't see putting him through that without the assurance of at least a year or more of good quality of life for him.

In the meanwhile, the oncologist gave me a couple of over the counter supplements to make him comfortable. And while it may sound weird to you, I decided to search for a new puppy for Sam to help me train while he's still with us. I know he's missed his friend Coda deeply, so even though he initially doesn't like other dogs, I know that he'll be fine with a puppy once a few days have passed. Maybe he'll even perk up, some.

I'm trying to keep it together. Focus on positive things. I throw the ball for him until he gets too tired. He's on my bed with me every night. He gets lots of hugs and snuggles from my boss and coworkers, and of course my mom and dad.

After some thought, I decided to go with a breeder for a puppy. It turns out German Shepherds and most other large breeds end up blowing out their knees when they're fixed too young. Something about needing the hormones in order for the joints to form correctly - this happened to my other shepherd, Coda, when she was young. Rescues, understandably, have all puppies fixed before they go home, and Sam won't tolerate an adult dog. So, a breeder it is.

 The new pup has been chosen. She's a lovely black German Shepherd with lines tracing to Germany. Her grandfather has been best in the world in obedience for three years. And, like all puppies, she's adorable!

That little face! Just kills me!

I should be picking her up next weekend. It's going to be a bittersweet occasion.

*Sigh* I am so ready for things to start turning around for me. Maybe starting with money coming to me and my dog being miraculously cured?

Dogs!

"Throw the ball. Please, throw the ball! Throwtheballthrowitthrowitthrowit!"

I figure it's been a while since I posted about my dogs, and you were probably losing sleep, wondering what was up with them!

It's been pretty rainy here in Northern California, so the dogs have felt pretty cooped up. Cabin fever was definitely in the offing! On Monday, there was a break in storm fronts, so I took them around the corner to a local neighborhood park, ball launcher in hand.

Those of you who don't own German Shepherds (you poor, poor dears!) may not be aware that the vast majority of them are ball-obsessed. It's what happens when you have dogs with high prey drives, which is what many, though not all, of the Shepherd lines are bred for. It's what makes them great K9s and Military Working Dogs, along with their keen minds and natural sense of protectiveness towards their families.

My Sam and Coda are no exceptions to the ball-obsessed Shepherd stereotype! Sam is always on high alert, and when he takes after the ball, he pins his ears flat to his head and tears after it for all he's worth! Coda is a bit more relaxed about it, but still does a darn good game of fetch.

Although, they do things a bit differently when they're fetching together versus when they're just one on one with me or Mr. ShellHawk. 

As you can see in the below pic, Coda just wants to chase the dog who chases the ball, in order to be a noodge. She's really not all that worried if she gets the ball or not, as long as he doesn't have it. Kind of like that unwritten Dog Law: All balls are my ball, even if I don't want them!

She's a total nag. And even if he gets it, she'll often just take it from him, and he lets her!

Hopefully, the video will play alright, even though it's not the best clip in cinematic history!

They came home happy and tired, just as it started sprinkling again. That evening and all the next day, it was pouring! I'm so glad I got them out of the house!

Sam is four, and will be five in April. Coda is two and almost a half. I can't believe how quickly they've grown and how fast the time has gone!

Five weeks old and adorable!

All grown up. D'aww!

Face-hugger: GSD edition!

I still can't believe she was this small! She's 91 pounds, now, and
bigger than he is!

How could you not love the German Shepherd head tilt?

Dog snuggles are pretty much the best.

Dogs are just the best, aren't they? 

News From the Nest -- Crazed

I have to laugh at myself, because yet again, I have to start a post with, "I've been really, really busy!" Unimaginative, but true. (I wonder how many posts I've done have started with that phrase?)

Our cousin from Chicago moved in with us a few weeks ago, bringing her dog along with her. Introducing the dogs wasn't as chaotic as I'd feared it would be; Sam has fear-aggression with other dogs and it could have gotten pretty hairy. Fortunately, I've been working with a trainer on the issue, and things went really well! Whew! They seem to be settling in well with each other, as you can tell from this video of Coda and Stevie playing together.

I guess this is fun....
Posted by Cassandra Denise on Sunday, April 19, 2015

Meanwhile, at the job, we moved the office on Friday. Talk about exhausted! The commute will be longer, unfortunately, but it's a nicer office and I get a window and lots of bright, natural light. I love that!

There are a couple of other things in the works, but I can't share until July, which is just killing me!

But the good news I can share is that I ran a bisque firing last night with some of the new baby dishes and Hallowe'en things. I'm pretty stressed about losing thirty-five hours a week in the studio and still having to make a profit this year if I'm going to continue to run this as a business. I'm not sure how to make up the time other than not sleeping!

First world problems, I guess. :)

Been Visiting

Our cousin has been visiting from Chicago for the last few days, and Sam, my dog, has been cheating on me ever since.

I mean, look at him!

What a tramp he is.

Herp Nation

One of editor Sam Bacchini's babies during its hatch

I wanted to give my friend, Sam Bacchini, editor of Herp Nation, a quick shout out today. 

Sam's been a friend of Mr. ShellHawk's and mine for years, now. Mr. ShellHawk met him through work, which is environmental consulting. When you're in that line of work, you run across all sorts of neat scientist types, such as fisheries ecologists, botanists, entomologists and herpetologists. Sam is a herpetologist, and as such, studies amphibians and reptiles. He also is licensed to breed them, but that's another story!

Right side foreground: Hosmer's Skink, photo taken by "speedy" in Australia

 I thought I'd share this with folks here in the event they're amphibian fans. Mr. ShellHawk brought home a copy of Herp Nation the other day, and even though I'm more of a dog person, I really appreciated how well put together this magazine is! The photos are absolutely gorgeous and the article are as informative as you'd expect from this kind of journal. I went to the website and found out they even have a podcast for those who can't get enough of their passion for herps.

Good job, Sam! Keep up the good work!

Open House and New Family

Well, kids, it's here! The day of my Open House for ShellHawk's Creations. With everything that's been going on, I'm stunned that it's here already! I haven't even had the time to take pictures of everything, but I'm hoping to snap a few before people start arriving.

 It's been rough around the house without Josey. Not only do we miss her, but the dogs miss her, too. Sam has decided that since she's not around to play with him anymore, that Gromit should fill in. Gromit can't, because his knees are bad and he's just too old.

For those of you who know German Shepherds, you know that they don't really care what you've decided, they are, by God, going to get their way.

So it is with Sam.

He's developed a new game. Stand on top of Gromit with a ball in his mouth. Drop ball on Gromit's head. Watch ball roll off. Chase ball. Grab ball. Repeat from start.

After about ten minutes of this, Gromit looked around at us as if to say, "Seriously? Really, you have to help me."

Mr. ShellHawk and I had a heart to heart about it. Gromit is older than Josey, around twelve or thirteen years old. We don't expect him to last more than another year, and we came to the conclusion that we don't want his last year to be miserable because of Shepherd torture. Whether we were ready or not, we needed a new dog. And believe me, we are under no illusions that we're emotionally ready for a new pup. We are not.

Even so, the search started. I emailed my breeder, but didn't hear back from her. I checked local German Shepherd Rescues, but didn't see a suitable dog. We ended up where we began, ten years ago, with Josey: Westside German Shepherd Rescue.

Mr. ShellHawk drove down to Moorpark, which is in Southern California, to pick up the new girl, in spite of the fact that he's exhausted from a lot of travel. And here she is:

Meet Coda.

co·da

 noun \ˈkō-də\

: an ending part of a piece of music or a work of literature or drama that is separate from the earlier parts

: something that ends and completes something else

God help us. We're back to puppy-proofing for a German Shredder (a nickname for German Shepherds, along with "German Shedder"). *sigh*

The Worst Day Since Yesterday

It's been a bitch of a week here at the Nest. Sorry for the language, but I really can't put it any other way.

In spite of the promise of fun and excitement for my very first appearance on TV on Sac and Co., real life intruded with a gut punch, which started last week. This week, the hits just kept coming and have left me beat up all over.

One of our older German Shepherds, Josey, started to refuse her food last week. Since she's been a picky eater all her life, this wasn't unusual. But then a day turned into two, then three, and she started even to refuse turkey lunch meat and bacon.

When a dog refuses bacon, you know something is seriously wrong.

Josey with my idiot but loving lab, Gromit

If you're a dog owner, you probably see where this is going.

We took her to the vet who did bloodwork and took x-rays. We took her home. We got a call to bring her back the next day for an ultrasound. Ultrasound inconclusive, vet says take her to someone better at ultrasound than she was. We took her to the small animal emergency clinic at U.C. Davis, which is also a teaching veterinary clinic with many machines that go, ping!

Actually at this point, it was I who took her to Davis, as Mr. ShellHawk had no choice but to go out of town for the weekend to teach a class in L.A. He couldn't cancel, and there was no one else to teach it. He said his goodbyes to her when he left, since we both had a bad feeling that she wasn't going to make it through whatever was going wrong.

Sam, playing with his favorite dog, Josey, when he was a little guy.

The doctor recommended I leave her overnight so more tests could be done, the first being an ultrasound. I didn't want to leave her, but I knew that with her listlessness and continuing refusal to eat, it would be best. 

Josey, keeping an eye on the interloper in the first week or so we had Sam.

 

I got a call later that afternoon. It turns out that Josey had advanced stomach cancer.

To say that it was a shock is to make a huge understatement. If you had seen her in the days before she stopped eating, you would have seen her tearing around the back yard with Sam and Gromit, looking as carefree as a dog can look.

Stomach cancer? Advanced stomach cancer? WTF? She had given us no indication that she had any kind of problems other than becoming a little old lady with some arthritis issues.

I've read several times that this is the problem with GSDs. The breed, as a whole, is a stoic one, and generally won't tell you they're hurting.

The head-tilt for which German Shepherds are famous, in stereo, no less!

Mr. ShellHawk and I had to have a serious, come-to-Jesus conversation about what was to be done. Given that she was almost twelve years old, and that there was no doubt that the cancer was terminal, and that trying to extend her life for a month with a poor quality of life would be just flat out cruel, we opted to let her go.

So yesterday, I headed into work for a while to get a few things done, and left from there to go to the TV station. After that, it was time to head over to Davis and deal with the heartbreak of euthanizing my best girl. I insisted on being there with her, and had some private last moments with her before the doctor came in. When they brought her in and she saw me, she wagged her tail as best she could and then flung herself down on the fleece mat the hospital had provided for her. If ever an animal could tell you that they were done and ready to go, she was telling me loud and clear.

The doctor, himself, was the best man for it. He had given her a combination of painkillers and an opiate to make her comfortable. He was gentle and kind, and she was gone very quickly.

 

Mr. ShellHawk wrote this about her on his Facebook page yesterday:

Ten years ago, almost to the day, we were asked by German Shepherd Rescue if we would like to rescue an adult female German Shepherd who had been chained to a post in the back yard of a house and had been left there by the owners who packed up and moved. After literally stopping the euthanasia, we got Josey 2 weeks later; she was about 1.5 years old and weighed a total of 43 lbs, she had weighed 35 lbs. when they took her from the back yard. I would like to thank those bastards that left her there because she spent the next 10 years helping bring normality to our crazy life, healing past wounds, and bringing Shelley and I great joy. We lost our girl today to cancer. The attached photo is one that was sent to me many times over the years by Shell, it’s the “Tragic Shepherd” text, asking when dad was coming home. I will miss those texts.

Thanks to everyone that has been so supportive through this. She went quickly and peacefully thanks to Shell and some great doctors at UC Davis.

Yesterday was an even worse day for Mr. ShellHawk, as it was the anniversary of his beloved mother's death. To say it's been a bitch of a week is to tell the absolute truth.

Josey was such a huge part of our lives. She was awesome with kids and could be trusted with the smallest infant. I remember that when my nephew was a baby and would cry, she would rush over to lick his face to try and soothe him, all the while looking over at us as if to say, "Something's going on, here! Come and help this little fur-less puppy!"

As I sit here writing this in my usual spot on the couch, there is an empty space next to me where she used to park herself while I puttered on my laptop. I saw her empty dish this morning and burst into tears.

I will miss her in more ways than I can count.

It is truly the worst day since yesterday.