*****

Here is my time line for my rehabilitation from my injury.  In general, my parents and my doctors made these decisions, not I.  If my parents took me swimming, I went swimming. If they took me running, we went running. They decided how far, how fast, and how long I was to be out and walking, running, or swimming.  I guess in the end they made the right decisions, because I’m doing really well now. I’m not even limping!

Day 1: I was hit by the car and brought to the emergency room of the animal medical center.  When I went home six days later, I had a full-splint on my leg.

During this time, I may only go outside to pee and poop and then must go back home. I must walk slowly.

Week 5, Day 3: I have surgery on my broken ankle, though I’m asleep and don’t know what’s going on.   When I go home, I have a half-splint on my leg.

During this time, I may only go outside to pee and poop. I walk slowly.

Week 12, Day 3: I go back to the animal medical center for a bandage change. It has been 7 weeks since my surgery. Although he was going to only take x-rays at this time, my doctor removes my splint!

Since I’m allowed to go upstairs and downstairs, my parents let me go up and down a lot so that my muscles begin to strengthen.  Of course, since I’m on my lead, I can’t go up and down too much, but I do it as often as they will allow me, and as many times as they will allow me. When I am home alone, my parents keep me in the living room and close the little door gate. They don’t want me jumping up on anything.

Week 13:  Day 3: I go back to the animal medical center for x-rays on my broken ankle. It has been 8 weeks since my surgery. My doctor removes my bandages!

During this time, my leg muscles continue to start working again.I’m still walking with a limp.  When I am outside and I start to hop on three legs, my parents slow me down so that I use all four legs.

My walks start out short. Then they get longer. Then they get longer and longer. Then they get longer and longer and faster and faster.  My mom is walking longer and longer and faster and faster, too. This is good for me.

Week 16: It has been 11 weeks since my surgery. I’m running and playing in the back yard. My parents are throwing the ball and I’m chasing it and bringing it back. However, we don’t play this game for too long.

Week 17: It has been 12 weeks since my surgery. I’m walking well enough and I’m strong enough to take a walk around the block with my sister and littermate, Rosie. I am still walking with a limp.

My parents take me to the lake for the first time!  My mom walks me around the edge of the lake but I do some swimming, too. I go to the lake a few times this week and I am swimming, usually in place, with my mom holding me up by my harness.  My legs are getting stronger and stronger and I’m feeling better and better.

Week 19:  It has been 14 weeks since my surgery. Dad takes me running with him. We run for one block!

Week 20: It has been 15 weeks since my surgery. Dad takes me running with him. We run for five minutes!  Then we walk.  The next day we don’t run and the next day we run again for 5 minutes again.  I’m feeling stronger.  Jane takes me on long walks and she doesn’t’ let me stop and rest until we get to our destination, or until we get home.

Week 22: It has been 17 weeks since my surgery. Dad and I run for ten minutes!  The next day we don’t run and the next day we run again for 10 minutes again.  Then the next day we don’t and the next day we do.  I’m feeling stronger and my parents say that they don’t see me limp when I run. They say “Other than the bald spot on his back, you wouldn’t know he was hit by a car.”

Week 25: It has been 20 weeks (5 months) since my surgery. Dad and I run for twenty minutes!  This is our “short” run.  I’m feeling good.  I’m not limping.  We do this run now a few times a week, one day yes one day no one day yes one day no.  During the afternoons, Jane takes me on long walks and she even tries to run for a block or two with me, but I’m much faster than she is and I’m always ahead of her looking back at her. They still say say “Other than the bald spot on his back, you wouldn’t know he was hit by a car.”

Week 25: It has been 20 weeks (5 months) since my surgery.

My dad says “Twenty minutes may be it for him.”   I’m going to do my best to run longer and longer and further and further.

My doctor says that I’m “a healthy dog”.  I love my doctor!

Week 26: It has been 21 weeks (5 months, 1 week) since my surgery.

I love my life! I go to new places and see new things. I meet new people and new dogs. I make many new friends, both people and dogs.  Everybody is surprised at how well I do.  When I’m off-lead, I obey my mom when she says “come”. At night I don’t limp.

But I do sleep well!

Some of you have been waiting to hear about my prostrate thing, waiting to read the answer to my parents’ question on their page, to neuter or not to neuter. You’ve been waiting to hear about all the activity that took place when I was being boarded two months ago from my post, what’s a prostate? what’s enlarged? and what was the big deal between the doctor there and my parents.  You’ve asked if any of this has to do with my being hit by a car.  You’ve been waiting to hear about whether I’m going to remain the wonderful whole male that I am and have always been, or whether this state of glorious and holy wholeness is going to end.

My parents know me better than anybody else in the whole world and they think it’s time I told this story.

To be honest, I don’t understand anything about enlarged prostrates, I don’t even know what a prostate gland is. Or a gland. I do know that different dogs have different odors, and that male dogs like me who are whole have a different scent from male dogs who are not, and that we dogs can detect the difference.  And I know that this is a factor amongst some dogs who are deciding whom to make friends with, and whom to not make friends with.

So with that said, we go back five months, to when I was hit by the car.

I’ve already written about my broken ankle, my broken toes, and my broken teeth. But one place I did not mention that got really badly injured was my penis.

Dr. Kiko thinks that what happened was that I was pushed down to the ground under the car, and my belly was scraped, and the prepuce, the skin that covers the penis, was pulled back and my penis was badly lacerated.  The cut went all the way around it, like a ring.

At the two animal hospitals where I was going, all of my wonderful doctors took really good care of me and my belly healed.

It took a lot longer for my penis to heal, however.  Every time I got excited this area filled up with blood and sometimes I was bleeding pretty badly.  Once, my parents even had to rush me to the emergency room. This need to keep me calm is why my parents didn’t allow visitors to our home for a long time.  This is also one of the reasons why they kept the shades drawn and our curtains closed. If I remained calm, I wouldn’t bleed. Keeping me calm is not easy, as you know.  I’m a very enthusiastic dog!

When my parents would walk me outside, we would see many children outside, playing, being strolled, roller skating, just being children enjoying life. But my parents would say “hello” and then keep me walking because I wasn’t allowed to get enthusiastic over anybody.

Soon enough, my penis healed well enough for my parents to allow visitors into our home and to allow me to play with children.  The shades went up, the curtains were opened, and daylight entered our home once again! Light entered my life again, too, in a big way.

With that, I will end my story for this evening, and you will be ready to read part 2, in which I will describe my visit to my local animal hospital.

But first, make sure you read my mom’s page, to neuter or not to neuter, where she explains all the things I cannot.

to part 2

*********************

“Is your dog friendly?” is what many dog owners who are out with their dog ask my parents when their dog sees me and wants to play with me.

is your dog friendly?

My mom thinks that this is a funny question. I mean, I am Mr. Friendly!

At the 1000 dogs walk, somebody asked my mom again, “Is your dog friendly?”

She also finds that question, Is your dog friendly?,  interesting.  She wonders if any dog owner is going to answer, “NO”.

But at any rate, when somebody asks her that question, she answers, “Yes! Very friendly!” and then she includes, “And he’s very strong.” Then she holds on tight to my lead.

I’m soooo friendly that my dad worries about me being left alone outside in the evening: He’s worried that I’m going to try to make friends with the raccoon and the skunk that clunks across our back yard from time to time when the sun has gone down. At these times, he says, “Joey, you’re going to get it some day.”

It’s easy to tell when I’m having a good time and easy to see that I was having a great time at the 1000 dogs Walk for Animals. For example, is my tail wagging? If so, I am having a good time.  Is my head in one direction but my eyes looking out to another? This is one way you can tell that I am playing. I do this with my parents when we play ball and they are holding the ball in their hand. I want them to think that I am not looking at them with the ball so that I can gain the advantage.

i want her to think I'm not looking at her

At the walk, almost all of the dogs were friendly to each other. The little dogs, who often yap at me,  didn’t yap at me.  They wanted to play – with me!

The bigger-than-me dogs had good manners, too.  Only one dog who I met – and he was a very large dog – was not friendly and did not play nicely with me.  And when he got nasty to me, his owner just said to him “Let’s go” and pulled him away.   If I acted nasty to another dog, which I don’t, I would hear my parents say “Bad” or “Joey, No!”.  My parents want me to learn good manners, too.

This was a nice morning and afternoon because the dog owners let us dogs get to know each other and to decide if we wanted to play together and if we did, they would let us play, and if we didn’t, we would move on to other dogs and other possible friends! We dogs were on leads (and my dad had to hold on tight to mine!) but we were really having a good time.

I also like to play with dogs – dogs of all sizes and all breeds. With small dogs, I feel like a father to them. I like to put my paw on their back and lick their faces. This little dog, Fiona, let me do that. We became friends for a little while that afternoon.

i'm happy to play with dogs of all sizes

I am happy to play with retrievers, but any friendly dog is fine with me!

We dogs have our own system for deciding who we like. And we’re not going to give up our secret, even if you interview us and try to find out!

can you tell who is who?

Here I am with one of my own, another chocolate lab.  See my ears? As tired as I was, there is always energy for making friends with one more dog!

This is one more wonderful activity that I’ve participated in since I was hit by the car (which I don’t remember at all) and since my broken ankle and broken toes have healed, and since I’ve bounded back to life.  And now I have to have good manners and thank my parents for letting me have this wonderful day!

*****

me and Rufus

I haven’t been this exhausted in a long time.  There must have been 1000 dogs in this place. Every where I looked a dog. Every where I turned a dog. Every where I smelled a dog!  There were more dogs than trees!

First, we were all together just having a grand old time.

Then after a while, everybody started walking.

My dad had already taken me for a walk in the morning, and here was another one! But not just me and my dad; it was me, my dad, my mom and 1000 other dogs!

We walked and walked.

Then we stopped walking.

I was exhausted and my parents brought me to water bowls that were all over the place. Sometimes the other dogs and I were more interested in each other than we were in drinking water, but then my mom and dad would give me a moment to socialize and then would say “Joey, drink” or its variant, “Joey, drink water.”

We rested for a while. I found a spot under the shade and caught my breath.  This other dog wanted to make friends with me but I was very tired.

My mom was pretty happy.

After a while, my parents and I walked back into the car.

My parents were pretty happy though my dad said he was “dogged out”. I don’t know what that means.

My mom feels this was a successful day. It was an opportunity for me to socialize and get together with other dogs. This is a big thing with her now.  She is looking for opportunities for me to use my boundless labrador-retriever energy so that I will not dig my way out of our property again and so that I will not get hit by a car again.  She also raised money for the MSPCA and the animal hospital where I had my surgery, to help other dogs.

Why can’t every day be like this day!  Well, I’m not complaining. I’m happy with each and every day in my life.

go to part 2

*****

See me, to the left

My eyes glow from what people call tapetum lucidum. Then I have my flashing lights.

My mom is running with us. This is a new thing with her running with us. I like it.

We run down the big hill. I stop at every bush I can, until I hear “Joey, come”, the sound of my dad. He wants me to stay along with him.

We run and run down the carriage lane.  On this particular morning my dad sees one bunny but I don’t. Then we get to the bottom of the hill and turn and go down another smaller street. Along this street is a large pond. Jane, Dad and I run along the road along the  pond.  As the road turns, we turn.  Soon we stop, when Jane says “I have to stop.”

Then she looks at me and sees my tongue hanging out. Dad said that I’m a little out of shape.  (If my dad took me running more often, I’d be in shape, though.) Though I’m panting, I want to keep on going but I have to wait until my parents give the sign to begin again.

Dad gives the sign, and off we go again.

We run for another few minutes, and get to the carriage path again.  There, Dad gives the lead to Jane,  goes off running by himself, and Jane walks me to our home. She’s tired. She doesn’t run very often. She’s not in great running shape. Maybe if she runs with me more often, she’ll be more in shape.    As we approach our street, we see another dog running with his owner.

She’s happy because she sees the whole time we’ve been running or walking, I’m using all four legs equally.  At home, Jane takes off the lights, takes off my lead, and says, “Joey, drink water”.   I do. Then she continues Dad’s early morning run ritual – and gives me two treats.

I go rest for a while, when we hear the sound of Dad’s feet running to the back of our home and we go to greet him. He gives me one more treat!

I like mornings like this.

******

This morning did not start out like a typical morning. It started out even better.

First of all, my mom got out of bed shortly after my dad did. This is unusual. Sensing something out of the ordinary, I got up too.

a new day begins for my family

Besides, it seemed like something I wanted to be a part of. I stretched, yawned, and followed my mom downstairs and into the kitchen, where my dad was already fussing around.

My water bowl was full, as usual.  I drank a lot of water.  Jane asked, “Is this typical of him to drink so much water early in the morning?”  If she were up early more often, she would know.

Soon, things got more interesting and I could feel myself getting excited….Something good was in the air.  It was a warm morning.  Dad opened up my little box that is in the front hallway and I know that when he or my mom open that little box that somebody is taking me outside! Dad got out his supplies: little poop bags, little lights that he clipped onto my collar, and a little flashlight. Those are his toys, not mine.

Jane, meanwhile, had disappeared.   When Dad and I got to the front door, there was Jane, standing outside waiting for us. Dad and I came outside and – we all three started running!  See me?  I’m the one with my eyes glowing (from the light hitting my tapetum).

But first, I want to tell you that it was dark outside so I am going to write about the little blinking lights that my dad clipped onto my collar.  Whenever it’s dark outside, my parents click these little lights, two of them, one on each side, onto my collar.

These flashing lights don’t seem to help me in any way but they don’t bother me either, so I don’t mind. Without my lights, I’d still be able to see and smell my way around perfectly well. Dogs can see pretty well in the dark, and we can smell at any hour of the day! But humans wouldn’t be able to see me. This is important because my dad wants to know where I am at all times. He also wants cars to be able to see me.

Here I am with my lights on, under the light on the carriage path by the pond. It’s still dark out – for humans.

Once I have my lights on, we’re ready to run! Off I scamper into the delightful world that awaits.  There are no other dogs out at this hour but still – life doesn’t get any better than this!

Now you can continue to part 2.

*******

four months after surgery

It’s now been five months since I was hit by the car!   And it’s been four months since Dr. Matt operated to repair my broken ankle.

I’m a happy dog again.  No more plastic bags on my leg, no more leads just to go out to our back yard.

But everywhere I go, people still look at me and go “What happened there?”  They ask, “What’s the square on my back?”

Of all the places where I was shaved, the one spot on my back where I was grounded is still not fully grown in. My leg is much more grown in, and the place where the Fetanyl patch was is still kind of noticeable. Noticeable by people, that is. I don’t care.

But be that as it may, this prompts my mom to learn about a dog’s hair. This prompts my mom to learn about the coat of a Labrador Retriever.  This prompts my mom to learn about, in short, me.

My parents looked at my back very close up and they noticed that I have two layers of hair!  One layer has already grown back. That is the under layer.  It’s course and very short. This is the layer that keeps me warm in cold weather, so that I don’t have to wear that silly coat that my parents bought me that I kept kicking off.  It also keeps me cool in the summer, by keeping the sun off of my skin.

The outer layer is the longer layer that has not grown back.  That’s the layer, that Dr. Kiko would call my “guard hair”, that protects me from rain. And bugs. That’s the hair that people pet and say “It’s so soft.” That’s the layer that makes people call me a “Chocolate”.

So why hasn’t my outer layer of hair grown back? I don’t know and I don’t care. But my mom cares, and she learned that the they don’t grow back very easily in older dogs.  But I act like a puppy. That should matter somewhat.  Apparently, it doesn’t matter.

But there is another reason why the outer layer of hair on my back has not yet grown in.  The hair follicles are very deep along the spine of a dog, so it takes them much longer to grow in.  One vet said that it may take another cycle of shedding for them to grow in. Again, not that I car.  In fact, I think my parents don’t really care either. They just like knowing and understanding about me.

But on the bright side, what this means is that I’m going to get a lot of attention for a long long time, as people stop and point to me and ask, “Why is that there?” ! And that’s okay with me!

Getting attention is one of my hobbies, remember?

My mom has had to get very creative about getting me out of the home.

She wants to get me out of the home for a few reasons. First, I have so much energy it’s ridiculous. If she leaves me indoors for long periods of the day, she’s afraid I’ll do again what I did before.  (See, please, my posts on digging my way under the fence and out of our property, and then getting hit by the car in Chapters 1 and 2.)  Secondly, she wants my muscles to get back to how they were when I was running with my dad.

You may have noticed that you haven’t seen any nice new photos of me swimming. There’s a reason for that. There are no new photos because I haven’t been swimming. I don’t know how to tell my mom I want to go to the lake again.  I can’t just go there by myself, and she hasn’t taken me for two weeks now.

The last time we were there at the lake, a very nice officer came by to the shoreline and told my mom that she had to get out of the water. At the time, my mom was holding me up by my harness so I could do my swimming.   “Everybody out of the water,” he said.  He didn’t say it to me; he just said it to her. He didn’t include me in “everybody”. And that was the last time we were there.

So my mom has had to get creative.

Here’s what we did yesterday: She took me with her and we ended up at a place where she plays some game called golf.  This was a new place for me.  She found a place for me where she could attach my lead; I know she chose a place for me that was out of the sun and also close enough to her that I could see her. I also think part of the idea was for her to keep an eye on me because every once in a while I saw her looking my way. This game involves little balls but since I can’t run after them, I’m not interested in this game.

For a while, being near so many people, I was pretty excited; but when nobody came over to pet me, I just lay down and rested. And cooled down.

Luckily, a lot of people like dogs, and big dogs like me, and after a while people stopped by to pet me and I jumped up again. They said “sit” and “stay”.  They also said “paw”, which is something that my parents don’t like me doing because I get my dad’s nice clean shirts dirty when I do that. So I was happy because I got to do “paw” when my mom wasn’t looking. Or was she? At any rate, I got to do “paw” with some very nice children.  Once I kind of jumped up and my mom saw that (how?) and said, “Joey, off.”  At least I got to do “paw”.

So life continues to hold lots of surprises for me – and also for my mom. I like surprises, at least surprises like this.

********

***************

Since I have mostly recovered from being hit by the car, my parents often try to take me with them. They want to keep me busy and active and happy. But taking me with them is not always easy. Or safe.

For example, since I weigh almost 80 pounds, it’s not easy to take me with them in an airplane. I don’t fit in a little box that you can put under your seat.

take me with you, please

It’s not always easy to take me with them when they go camping because they can’t leave me alone during the day when they go bicycle riding or boating, or whatever they do. Why not? Once or twice they left me on the leash and attached my lead to a post outside a store and when they came back outside, they saw the lead on the tree – - but the “other” end of the lead was lying on the ground: No Joey!  Upon looking at the lead, they saw I had chewed through it! “Joey.  Joey”, my dad called, and I appeared from beneath some nearby bushes.

Some of the hotels they go to will allow you to bring your dog, but you may not leave your pet alone during the day. So if they go bicycle riding or to play golf, they can’t take me with them.  Maybe one day there will be a dog-friendly golf course? I doubt it!

I’m way too big to fit into a little basket like some dogs whose owners take them with them for the ride when they go bicycle riding.

In the summer, my mom runs errands and I’m not allowed to be alone for long in a car because dogs overheat very easily; many dogs die each year from heatstroke. So that’s out.

But since I was hit by the car, my parents want to keep me as active as possible, and as happy as possible.

So when can they bring me with them?

They can bring me with them when they play tennis.

First, my mom has her little doggie kit which is nice because it has a little bowl.  They tie my lead to a little bench near the tennis court and near the water fountain. One week, it was a little hotter than usual.  Soon my mom noticed that I was panting and my tongue was hanging out. She went to Robert, the court supervisor, who had a big shade umbrella, and asked him, “Would you mind if I put my dog here?” Robert was very nice and were very happy to have me there, sharing the shade of the umbrella.

The water-fountain was nearby and I was in the shade, and next to people who were nice.  In fact, I was under the seat, which gave me even more shade.  In the heat, my mom stopped occasionally to fill up the doggie bowl and pour cool water over me. Then she filled it up again and said, “Joey, drink.” And she waited until I would drink some water. She kept an eye on me to make sure that I wasn’t overheating, which is important because dogs overheat very easily, especially older dogs like me.

After tennis, we go right home and my parents give me a lot of water to drink and food to eat.

Now that I’m healthy again, my parents want to make sure that I stay healthy.

***********

I hadn’t run in a few days and I expected the same this morning when my dad woke me up and said “Joey, wake up.”

The sky was dark and beautiful and everything was quiet.  It was too late for the cicadas and too early for the birds.  But he and I were up!

pre-dawn, when I get up to go running

Dad was all dressed up in his running clothes when he put the lead on me; this gave me ideas.

We walked along the carriage path for a while. Then the road went downhill.  Okay, we’re walking and not running. I’m still happy.

And then he changed directions and picked up speed.  I picked up speed. We ran around a pond where ducks swam.  We kept running. We ran over a small bridge that went over the creek that fed into the pond.  We met up with a larger road that went uphill. We ran. The sky and everything else was becoming more and more visible.  Then we encountered my carriage path again and continued to run up the hill toward home. No stopping.

Then we turned onto our road, still running, and ran up to our home, which was now bathed in light. Exhausted, I was, for sure.

Luckily, inside, there was lots of fresh water for me in my bowl.

It’s a good thing I’m running with my Dad because I wouldn’t know when to stop and rest. I wouldn’t know when I need to stop and rest my muscles. I wouldn’t know when to stop and drink water. But my Dad knows.

Later, he said to my mom, “Joey ran for ten minutes today.”  All these years I thought that my dad knew me pretty well; now I’m learning that he’s getting to know me even better!

I’m a lucky dog.

I'm a lucky dog and I let my dad know it when we come back from running

******

Dad and I are running together every few days.  This morning he took me out at 5:45 a.m., before the other joggers were out, before the sky revealed its morning light.  We ran in the same morning light as on our last long run, before I was hit by the car.  This time, my dad and I ran for about 5 minutes, steady running, no breaks. I felt great.  Afterward, Dad said I was a little slower than I used to be but who cared. The running was the real thing and I was with my dad; we were together and we had the world to ourselves.

Then I came home and went back to sleep in my bed, and stayed asleep until my mom arose. “Joey, up! Up! Up!” she said, her intonation rising with each “up”.

By that time it was already really warm out. She made up her doggie kit, into which she places a few poop bags and a few treat. She also got a few tennis balls and a few towels. Then she got me into my new harness. I was getting definite ideas at this point: The harness is connected with swimming. Hmmm….My ears are standing up high and I’m following her around our home, focusing intently on her.

Then she attached the lead to the harness and off we went – into the car.

into the water i went right away

Soon we were at my favorite hangout, the lake! Ah, my beloved crystal lake!

There was only one dog there and only a few people, and I think that was the idea.

Into the water I scampered, right away.

My mom threw out a tennis ball, said “Joey, go get your ball!” and I’m supposed to go after my ball, and I start to.

But then I see the distant shore and that scares me so I turn around to face the nearby shoreline, to go back where I started out. This new harness seems to have an answer to that. My mom is right there and she gently lifts me by the harness, which is easy because I’m in deep water already, and holds me in place while I make like I’m swimming. Sometimes she holds one hand under my belly which also holds me up and allows me to just get back in shape.

I am looking at the nearby sandy beach and working hard swimming but I’m not going anywhere – but I don’t realize that. Or maybe I do, but I keep swimming and paddling away.  My legs are getting a lot of exercise, my rear legs in particular. That’s what my parents want.

My mom can see through the crystal water of the crystal lake that my injured leg doesn’t quite kick as well as the other leg. She’ll be careful to get me exercise and build up my muscles and coordination but to not hurt my recuperating leg.

Every once in a while she lets go of the harness and lets me really swim – on my own, to shore, of course. I relax a bit and sniff around.  Then she throws the ball again, I go after the ball, I get into deep water and become afraid and turn around, and while I’m looking at the nearby shore she holds me in place while I swim. She says “Good boy. Joey, you’re doing great!” a lot. Then she lets go of me and I swim, on my own, to the nearest shore. We go through this a few times.

swimming in place

It’s getting later and other dogs are showing up. I focus on them. The tennis balls don’t interest me. If a dog owner throws out a ball and his dog goes and swims after it, I go after the dog.  Suddenly I have forgotten that I’m in deep water.

My mom is watching out for dog safety and if I get too close to the other dogs she tugs on my harness. The harness is gentle and doesn’t hurt or pull or tug on my neck. It just slightly separates me from the other dog.

Another dog, a boxer, is there in the lake, also learning to swim. He’s 8 years old, and until this year he was afraid of the water.  His mom and big sister do like my mom does to me: They carry him out to the deep water, let go of him, and he swims to shore, and then say “Good boy! Good Julie!”

After a lot of swimming and physical therapy and playing, my mom decides it’s time to leave the water and head for home.

She’s hoping that when we get home, I’ll be exhausted. But I’m not. I am, however, happy – and thirsty!

************************

We’ve gone through so much these last few months. I am now ten years old, have a few more white hairs on me, though I neither care about that nor can I really see the difference between the chocolate and the white hairs.

white hairs are mostly where my whiskers are

The white hairs are mostly where my whiskers are and under my chin; since I was hit by the car, little puffs of white are on my feet and my legs. But my coat is still a fully and beautiful shiny chocolate.

How could I be going white when I’m only ten years old?

One website said that I’m 75 in human years. Another said that I’m 64.

My doctors said that I’m an “older dog” and that healing takes longer, but that I’m healing very well for an “older dog”.  But when I went swimming on Friday, somebody said that I acted like a puppy.  My mom calls me a puppy. She says “Hello, puppy!” and “Goodnight, puppy dog!” Even though I’m ten, every day is new and exciting. I am enthusiastic about my life and everything about it.  When there are other dogs at the lake, I want to play with all the other dogs so much that I lose interest in swimming. When somebody throws out a tennis ball for me to fetch and another dog is swimming, I forget about the tennis ball and want to play with the other dog in deep water and then my mom says “Joey, NO!” and yanks on the harness a little so that I lay off of the other dog.

My parents want me to swim and get physical therapy but are trying to come up with other ideas. They are so frustrated about this that they last night I heard them talking about trying to find me a dog park that will allow adult an unneutered male dogs. Who act like a puppy.

Some dog parks don’t allow unneutered male dogs, such as I am.  When I was a puppy, the play groups all allowed me in but then after my first birthday, they didn’t, because of this. But if my parents do find one that allows me in, maybe I’ll get a few more white hairs there.

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We did it!

The other day my dad got up early. He went running and I kept on sleeping. Then he came home and had some breakfast. Then he came and got me, “Joey, let’s go”, and took me out for my morning walk. We walked for a while.  Suddenly he sped up – and I sped up. And he sped up some more – and I sped up some more. And I was running!

It didn’t last long, maybe half a block, but it really happened.

That was it. All that day, he and my mom were looking at me walk to make sure I wasn’t limping.

Then my parents spoke to Dr. Cara. “How will we know that it’s okay to take Joey running?” they asked. Dr. Cara answered that it was time for me to start again: It had been 12 weeks since my surgery. She said to keep an eye on me and if my parents noticed anything unusual, to rest me for a day then try again.

The next morning, my Dad got up as usual and took his morning run – without me. I kept on sleeping. Then he came home, had his breakfast, and came and got me, “Joey, let’s go”, and got me for our walk. We walked until I was all warmed up. I get warmed up pretty quickly, though. Then suddenly he sped up, and I sped up. We ran for about one whole block. Then he slowed down and  I slowed down and we walked together for about one more block. Then he sped up and I sped up, and together we were running again! This continued for about one block.

Then he noticed it. I was hopping on three legs.

He again slowed down so that we were just walking. And we walked and walked – our way home.

Again all day my parents were looking at me. Was I using all four legs? Was I limping? Honestly my muscles were a little sore but I felt great. I slept a lot during the day.

It takes practice to do what comes naturally.

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going downstairs

Jane’s learned a lot about me since I was hit by the car. My Dad didn’t mind it when I followed him around. But Jane did. Up and down, up and down, in and out, in and out, up and down and in and out all over again.  One thing she has learned since I was hit by the car is that I follow her around because I love her. I think she’s happy about that now. Since I’m a dog, I can’t say “I love you” with words. I have to say it in my language.  I can follow her around. And I do.

For three months I always had to be on the lead when I went up or down or out back. Now I don’t have to be on the lead anymore; I can walk independently. But some things have stuck, like asking permission to do many things: Now Jane goes up the stairs and I wait at the bottom. I stare up at her at the top of the steps and I put my worried look on my face which says “You’re not going to leave me down here all alone, are you?” or which says “Leaving me down here is the worst thing that could possibly happen to me.” Which she knows is not true.  But either way, then she looks at me and says, with a big smile in her voice, “Joey, come! Come up!” I know this is good. She waits for me then says “Good boy!” Obeying her is worth it just to hear those words and to see her smile.

In the old days, when she would go downstairs and I would be with her, I would have shadowed her downstairs, for sure.  Now, when she goes downstairs, she looks at me and says “Stay” and uses her nifty little hand signal and I just remain where I am. I now know that it’s okay to remain where I am, usually lying down on the carpet, and that she’ll be back upstairs, by my side. I know that she’s not leaving me and that she’ll be back – for me.

how do I love thee?

All my posts include something about my parents. I sometimes call them Mom and Dad and I sometimes call them Jane and Phil. I ask, are they my owners? Are they my parents? Are they my friends? Are we all just in one loving pack?

Since I’m a dog, I don’t have to define the relationship.

I do, however, have to obey them.  Jane will say, “Joey, go to Dad” and Dad says “Joey, go to Jane.” It’s easier for me to hear the sound  “Jane” than “Mom” and it’s easier for me to hear the sound “Dad” than Phil.

I don’t have to love them – but I do. I love them no matter what they call themselves.  I never ask myself the question, Why do I love them? I simply do.  I love them because loving is my nature and I have a lot of enthusiasm for friendship. I don’t really understand all they’ve done for me, but I have a good sense of it. In the months since I ran into the car, I know they’ve found many ways to be there for me even more than before – and the natural result is that I’ve found an even greater love and attachment to them. Even when I was eating my splint to bits, they remained patient with me, never expressing any frustration to me.

My mom and dad are different: Jane, my mom, tries to train me.  Dad used to give me a command like “Sit” and then afterward, if I did it, he would say “Thank you.” Jane said “Don’t say thank you because you say it with a really nice sweet  tone of voice and as soon as you say that in that nice sweet tone of voice of yours he thinks he doesn’t have to sit anymore.” She was right. Dad stopped saying “Thank you” and I got better about obeying.  I think she understood that part of me better than Dad did, and she didn’t mind trying to match my strong will.

Any way you look at it, my parents are the biggest things in my life.

What makes a dog love somebody? What makes a dog love his owners?

Let’s clear up one matter: I don’t love them for giving me treats.

Dad would give me one treat in the morning after we would go running, and that was it. Jane didn’t used to give me treats at all. And I loved both Dad and Mom. Jane gives me a lot of treats now that I’m injured but that’s just because she wants to keep me happy when the things I normally do to keep me happy, such as running with my dad and hanging loose in the back yard all by myself, I am not allowed to do anymore (or yet).

When Dr. Cara gave me treats in the animal medical center and I kissed her, Dr. Cara thought I kissed her because she had given me treats. Not true.  I would have kissed Dr. Cara anyway, even without the treats. I would have kissed her because I knew that she is my friend.

Treats are a distraction, however. For example, when Jane is going out and I want to follow her outside, she gives me a treat and I carry the treat to my bed. For a minute or two I’m so busy with my treat that I don’t notice that she has left. And by that time, I’m pretty cool.

Why does a dog follow his owner around?

Please click here to see the answer to this question in my next post.

Today when Jane came home, I could smell dogs all over her.  Who were they? Where were they? Then she pulled something out of her bag and clearly called out “beagle” all over.  I was pretty interested in this object.

Then she and Dad got together and called me and were fussing with this thing and with me. It wasn’t a collar. Whatever it was, it was kind of okay with me.  They worked on this and on me.  They’re saying “harness” or something, looking at instructions.  Here you can see Dad fussing with it:

fussing with this new gizmo

Fussing with it some more, but I stay calm.

fussing with the gizmo some more

I like it, but the next question is: What is the purpose of this thing?

The other day my mom was walking me on our regular evening walk. We were headed up the carriage path.

I was perfectly happy, as I am in each of my walks. I saw another dog off in the direction we were heading toward but this does not concern me. In fact, it evokes some joy on my part.

Suddenly my mom saw the dog, a big dog, coming toward us! My mom suddenly seemed very concerned and jumpy.  Maybe she was nervous: She had been bitten by a dog several years ago. But I don’t think that was it, really.

The dog got closer to us and she called out, “It’s a Retriever.” Does that matter to me? Not at all: I like any breed of dog. Then she called out, “Joey, come”. Why? I like Retrievers. I’m a Retriever, after all.

The dog ran closer and closer to us, panting the whole time. Then it crossed the carriage lane to where we were on the grassy park land between it and the 4-lane avenue. This is the same 4-lane avenue, I remind you, where I was hit by a car.

a yellow Labrador Retriever. Nice dog!

Suddenly I heard, “Puppy, come!  Stay close to me!”  Was she talking to me?    Then the dog came right up to us.  Now she wants me to play with the dog a little but not too much.  She’s holding my lead really tight. She doesn’t know this dog.  We, the dog and I, socialized a little and my mom, seeing this, loosened up my lead a little. My mom thinks aloud.  Does the little phone in her hand mean anythin about why she’s talking out loud?  “He’s a Lab.  Labs are friendly. But I don’t know what to do. Should I call the police?” she’s saying. I hardly know how to answer her. She knows that my friend Officer O’Connell will be notified.  “I can’t call the police while the dog is still running.”

The retriever calms down and my mom holds out her hand for the dog to smell. He’s okay with how she smells. Then she gets even closer and looks to see if there is a tag on his collar. There isn’t. I’m all confused and don’t know if I should play, sit, walk, head up the avenue or cross the street and head down the avenue.

The retriever then picks up running again, continuing in the original direction. I want to follow him and apparently my mom has the same idea but maybe for different reasons.

She’s is still talking and trying to follow the dog and to hold onto me as I’m pulling and pulling on my lead all at the same time.

Then the dog continues past us, crossing the next road and heading down another. “Joey, come” I heard, good news. I follow as commanded. The dog runs down the next block and we follow.  He stops at a home, at the side door. We catch up and stop on the sidewalk. Nothing and nobody moves. Then the dog goes to the front door and sits. My mom ties my lead to a post on the lawn, says “Joey, stay here. Wait here. Good boy” and she goes up the wooden steps of that home and rings the doorbell.

In a minute the door opens, a man comes out, “Max!” he says, and Max disappears into the home.

I can tell that this was a happy ending.

But then my mom started pointing at me, tied to the post, and telling the man the story of my getting free and my getting hit by a car on the same avenue where Max was found running loose. The man is nice and he listened.  He said he had had Max in the backyard and didn’t know that – or how – Max had gotten free from the leash that held him and was running loose in the neighborhood.  I wasn’t about to offer up any suggestions.

This event has a happy ending: My mom has remained cool-headed and has learned a lesson from my being hit by the car.  Maybe she has helped save a dog from danger on a busy avenue. She was careful not to get too close to a dog she didn’t know. She waited for the golden to come to us, allowed him to smell her hand so that he was comfortable and calm before she reached out to him. And I got some good exercise and met a neighborhood dog I never knew.

Today started out like any other Sunday: Dad woke up at sunrise, I woke up with Dad. And then I went back to sleep.

He woke me up later and I went out with him on a short walk.  Of course in the old days, it would have been a long run. But these are not the old days: These are the new days. These are “nowadays”.

It was a nice walk and then I came upstairs and went back to sleep in my bed next to my mom’s bed, until she woke up.

Then we were all one awake family.

My parents disappeared for a while in the middle of the day. I was pretty sullen to be alone and to not be included in whatever they were doing. But that all changed.

I saw my mom go and get a few of my poop bags and put them in her pack.  Then she came downstairs with a bunch of towels, one of which is the towel she always uses to dry me off.  I was getting ideas and the sudden and quick motion of my tail reflected that.

Then Dad came upstairs and he was jiggling his keys. I got more ideas.

Then Mom went and got the lead. My ears were on high alert.  Then Mom attached the lead to my collar, opened the front door, said “Joey, come” and I knew this was good!  Off we went to Dad’s car and me to my usual place in the back seat.

In a little while we were at my beloved lake. I love the lake and I love the dogs and excitement that surround the lake.  We took a nice walk and ended up at a cove at one end, where there is a gentle sandy beach.  My mom took the lead, and headed straight for the water and I headed straight for the water as well.  It was glorious.

Jane said something to somebody about “physical therapy” and my being hit by a car.  I wasn’t interested in her talk, however. I had a conflict of interest: I was interested in the water and in another dog that was swimming. It was difficult to make a choice but Mom solved that conflict: She pulled on the lead and said, “Joey, come.  Let’s swim!” and I followed, and we started walking in the water along the shoreline.

physical therapy for me

We walked as far as we could go in one direction and there I saw Dad on land!  Then we walked back to the original place, and there I saw Dad again!  We kept walking back and forth along the soft sands of the shoreline and Dad followed us so he could be near us.

I want to go in deeper

Soon I wanted to go in deeper. My parents said “Do you think he’s ready to go in deeper?” but I seemed to be telling them that I was ready for this so Mom let the lead out to its longest and let me swim out.  Eventually I turned around to come back in.

We played this game for a while. Mom and I would head out into deep water and once there, I would decide to turn around and swim toward shore, where Dad was. I would go up on shore toward Dad, turn around, see my mom out there in the water, and decide to go back in the water toward her, as she said, “Joey come! and wiggled her fingers to urge me forward.

Once in a while I was distracted by the other dogs in the water but since I was on lead, there was no chance of going over there and though I tried, I understood my limitations.

conflict of interest

After a while, both my parents said “I think that’s enough for the first day” and I was perfectly happy to stay on land and dry off.

Tonight I had a huge appetite and I am both eager to go out again and very tired.

Physical therapy is really a lot of fun, if you’re a dog!

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Who would have believed that after getting hit by a car and being so injured, a dog could have such a wonderful morning as this one!

We all remained like this for a few minutes, with Rosie on the sidewalk with her mom and me on the front steps with mine.

Just then, one of our family friends came by. He loves and understands dogs and he loves and understands me and I love him and “Lucky” is his black Labrador Retriever (and I can always smell Lucky all over Al when Al comes over and besides, Al always knows when to give me a treat) so when Al heard that my sister was here and he saw her, right away he went over to her and they made friends. This made Rosie feel more comfortable, too.

Our friend Al introduces himself to Rosie. Rosie and Al make friends.

After Rosie seemed relaxed with Al and  I was okay with sitting and looking on, our moms decided it was time for me to get a little closer to Rosie.

Somehow I got the signal from my mom that it was okay to go a little closer. Maybe she let out on the lead a little; maybe she said “Joey, come”, I’m not sure. But we were able to communicate just fine.

This time, I was allowed to go right to the sidewalk but my mom kept me a few feet away from Rosie. Honestly, this is very difficult for me because I wanted to get close right away, but my mom held me back. (Actually, she gave my lead to Al, who is pretty strong and knows me and knew exactly what to do to keep me a few feet from Rosie .)  It was only for a little while though, so it was okay.

Rosie and I are exploring each other still from a distance but closer.

You can see in the photo how much I’m trying to get closer to Rosie but Al has to work hard to restrain me. Rosie is interested in me too, and her mom has to work hard to restrain her. At night my parents said things like “We were smart in waiting to get Rosie and Joey together so far after his surgery and after his bandages were removed because he was putting a lot of pressure on his leg, pushing on it to get closer to Rosie, and in these last few weeks his leg has gotten strong enough to handle this.” I guess they’re right. And I’m not complaining. This is a great day – any day!

After a few minutes, our moms decided that it was time to allow the next big step! We both were eager for this next step.

nose to nose

This was really a fun moment.  It was also a good moment.

Shortly after that, Rosie allowed me to lick her face a little. This was my way of inviting her to play and to tell her that I like her and want to take care of her!  Rosie let me lick her face for a moment and I heard “That’s good enough for now.  Let’s maybe start walking soon. We don’t want to do too much too fast. We have lots of time; let’s not push it.”

And with that, our moms decided to pull us apart again.  But then I heard “Let’s go in this direction” and off we went, Rosie first and me following.

I’ll tell you more about our first reunion tomorrow; please enjoy these photos!

*****Now you can go to Part 3. ***

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The day that I never thought would arrive has arrived! My mom must have been pretty good keeping secrets from me – almost as good as I am keeping secrets from her! Rosie has accepted our invitation to play and my mom has decided that I’m strong enough and healthy enough to now go for a walk around the block with my littermate.

Last night my Mom said something like "Go to sleep, Joey. Tomorrow will be a big day. We’re going to see Rosie!" but I didn’t really get what she was saying.

This morning I was inside and my mom was outside. I knew something big was going on outside but I couldn’t see what.  Still, I could hear it.  What had happened was this: A car had pulled up to the sidewalk outside our home and Elisabeth, Rosie’s mom, had gotten out then Rosie had gotten out.  Elisabeth and my mom had decided to keep me inside the home while Rosie got comfortable in a new place and with new people.

But when my mom came inside, I could smell Rosie all over her hands and arms. I kept sniffing for more and more information: Where was she? Would she be happy to see me? Could we play soon? It was wonderful! I could barely contain myself and if I had been a water balloon I would have exploded. This was Rosie, my littermate; we were born together ten years ago!

Soon my mom put me on my lead and slowly allowed me to go outside. First she had me sit on the front step of our home for a while, while Rosie remained on the sidewalk. Rosie and I just looked at each other and got comfortable like that for a while. It was pretty difficult. I wanted to get up but my mom would say "Sit" so I remained, according to her instructions.  You can see from the photo, from how perked my ears were, that I wanted to head straight for Rosie. But I obeyed my mom.

While I was there and Rosie was their, our moms were saying things like "Good boy" and "Good girl" so that each of us felt loved and comfortable in this new setting and situation.

Then things got even better!

I’m going to write more about our exciting morning later but I want you to see photos of me and of my sister and littermate those first moments, the first moments of our reunion.

Life is getting back to normal – slowly but surely. Actually, life is better than normal! Today started with a big surprise – a good one. It’s great and exciting to have my sister back in my life after all these years!

Now please go to Part 2.

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