Dog owner thumbs nose at vet’s guidance

The dog who’s been ill for two weeks to the day is still alive — today.

No new poop picture of the day today. Not to sound flippant. No. Reason is I was away yesterday looking for a new place so don’t know whether he dumped on the floor. I presume so, have no reason to think otherwise. Big poops and diarrhea of a sickly dog have become the new norm.

Also, the house reeked of poop when I got back last night. The roommate  and owner, “John,” does a substandard job of cleaning it up and/or odor maintenance.

Which leads me to today’s topic.

The dog, Chance, was rushed to the emergency clinic Monday evening for severe and persistent gastrointestinal problems, including vomiting upon arrival.

Awaiting results of various tests.

In the meantime, they prescribed in writing a bland diet of chicken and rice (standard with GI problems) for a few days. If he tolerated that then gradually reintroduce his usual kibble.

John, as owner, handles the 1x/day evening feedings.

I anticipated returning to a kitchen brimming with rice and chicken — perhaps a whole fresh hot roasted one.

Not a grain in sight. Nor chicken save for the usual packaged chunks John uses for his lunches and dinners.

I am LIVID.

It gets worse.

John’s continuing to give Chance the VERY kibble the vets prescribed to discontinue for a spell!!!!

AND he’s continuing to give him packaged treats — a suspect in the dog’s GI downfall! Contrary not only to the vet’s advisement of rice & chicken only but our agreement to eliminate all treats for now.

The disregard, disrespect and dismissiveness John’s shown and continues to show even as his dog is down and out — yet still alive today somehow — I’m a bomb exploding on the inside.

I don’t wish the dog to die.

Yet his suffering and demise make me feel that his passing to the other side is better than the long slow death promised by the owner in his continued and WILLING negligence and neglect.

Really. I’m rabidly angry. Bombs exploding inside me now and every day that this continues — 2 weeks now and growing.

My life revolves around: (1) caring for the dog the best I can under constrained circumstances and (2) not being around John.

I go to extreme lengths to assure I’m not here when he is. I leave before he returns from work and I return late at night only when he’s asleep.

Our paths haven’t crossed in 4 days. I’d make it 44 and more if I could. Eventually they must and will cross — for no other reason than I’ll be moving me and my stuff out soon as I secure new digs.

My heart pours out to this animal.

My revulsion toward John — a friend until his dog’s sickness revealed a new side — pounds with the power of a heartbeat.

This newest discovery — that he’s completely disregarded the vet’s (appropriate) advice for the dog’s food and instead continued TO DO WHAT HE WANTS and SEE FITS … “cavalier attitude” hardly describes it.

It’s cruelty. Benign concealed cruelty.

Which is worse than direct upfront cruelty With that, you’ve got a chance to fight back.

When it’s benign — or designed to appear so — and lurking within the shadows, that’s insidiousness, the poison into the veins.

Bless the dog and my friend Chance.

I can’t forgive what your “dad” is doing, not yet, not now, perhaps never. All I can do for you Chance is pour all my care and concern upon you and perhaps, hopefully, fill in a little of the huge hole of neglect your owner’s giving you.

I care, Chance.

I wish and wish and wish John cared even half as much. Your chances of recovery would be doubled.

 

 

 

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Dog gets vet care finally. Will it save him?

It took “John” 11 days of his dog being sick for him to finally do something about it.

Unfortunately it may be not enough and too late.

John is the roommate (51 years old).

Late last night I returned home to a residence changed, intuition informed me.

First, the house — a cookie-cutter condo, narrow, tight spaces — reeked of dog poop. More than usual — for the past two weeks, the dog has uncharacteristically been unleashing numerous enormous piles and diarrhea by the front door. Foul odors permeate and collect in corners. As a neat freak, I cleanse the residence. Sadly, however, new poops appear seemingly as fast as ones before are cleaned up.

After the poo stench that slapped me across the face, I noticed the dog’s food strewn around his dish on the floor — as if he’d nosed the Pedigree kibble aside for morsels of real food, like chicken.

EXTRAORDINARILY uncharacteristic behavior for a dog who’s the BIGGEST canine foodie I’ve ever known (and many animals have I known in my 61 years). The dog’s appetite has been poor to absent since he turned ill about two weeks ago. He’s refused his kibble time and again — WARNING SIGN!!!!

Yet John continued insisting his dog is fine.

Most telling perhaps last night were the papers on the table.  The dog had been rushed earlier that evening to the emergency clinic.

Why John finally acted I do not know.

Comprehensive tests were taken. In addition, the dog was given Cerenia to control vomiting.

THIS WAS NEW.

I’ve since learned that the dog began vomiting half-digested food and foam upon his arrival at the emergency clinic.

Given the owner’s disregard for doubled frequency and amount of poops of rancid quality, I can’t help but wonder whether his dog’s vomiting in the house would’ve also been disregarded and the dog still “fine,” as the owner’s insisted despite glaring evidence to the contrary.

I’m glad he vomited. It affirmed WHAT HIS DOG HAS BEEN TELLING JOHN and WHAT I HAVE BEEN TELLING HIM for weeks. He is sick. The vomiting, on top of the terrible frequent poopings, indicate worsening condition.

Results of the tests are pending.

In the meantime, instructions are to monitor the dog and in absence of continued vomiting feed a diet of rice and chicken.

Which for the record I WOULD HAVE DONE TWO WEEKS AGO WHEN HE FELL ILL.

If that’s rage you’re picking up through the screen, you wouldn’t be mistaken.

If all goes “well” with rice and chicken, then gradually re-introduce regular kibble. I disagree with this; I personally feel the kibble is a culprit. The only one? Probably not but suspect enough to eliminate and alter to other.

However, John has brushed off any input from me, preferring to risk the health and life of his dog — WHO IS ALSO MY FRIEND.

Until test results are known, it’s a matter of waiting and of time. I’ve intuitions about what is wrong and the possible future that I won’t share.

I hope I am not right.

Every moment with the dog who is still alive — today — is precious.

He is sick. He looks it. He behaves it. His frequent and massive poopings reveal, most assuredly.

No one knows with certainty when he or she shall “meet the reaper” who awaits us all.

I do know for certain that the dog, my friend too, is quite ill.

That this long episode of neglect and negligence and cavalier attitude and refusal to SEE and care for the animal as he deserves and needs has revealed a side to John.

The friendship will not survive. Nobody who is cruel to animals — and that includes “benign cruelty” as is neglect — can be my friend. Or even acquaintance.

Time will tell and soon.

My heart hurts for the dog who has endured such suffering and risk to his life needlessly.

This is all I have to say today. Jan. 29, 2019. Except for this. Yesterday was the dog’s 7th birthday (I just learned today). He spent it in crisis and vomiting at the emergency clinic.

Nice birthday celebration you gave your dog, John.

To the dog, I am so so so so so sorry he did not do better for you and by you. You deserved and deserve much better.

For the ongoing record:

poop1-29

poop by door 1.29

A dog from the inside out

The dog in distress nearly two weeks now is no better.

For the record:

His poop in the hallway yesterday afternoon:

poop1-27

poop 1-27-19

And this morning:

poop1-28

poop1 1.28.19

Just a few hours later …

poop2.1-28

poop2 1.28.19

The poor guy. The poor sad neglected sweet adorable dog.

Despite evidence unveiled here, the owner / roommate continues insisting his dog is fine because he’s up and moving. He continues to deny him medical attention.

My. blood. is. boiling.

I post these pictures to show the world an animal from the inside out.

They DO communicate.

They DO tell us, repeatedly — in this case via frequent daily sickly poops, once abnormal, now the new norm, I’m disgusted to write — that something is wrong.

This dog could not express more clearly.

They show us that they’re sick, possibly dying. In all cases? No. Certainly in this one, however.

What will it take for the owner to GET IT? Death of the dog? I shudder at that likelihood. Killing an animal by neglect.

He’s dying from the inside out.

I am witnessing.

There is none so blind as he who will not see. Or listen.

An owner who won’t heed the signs, who rejects the animal by refusing to listen, does not deserve to have an animal.

Period.

End of story. Turn the page.

Sick he be, the dog is still here. Today.

Two concerns are first in my mind when I awaken each day.

First and foremost, is the dog still alive.

Two, is there a big poop by the front door.

I posted yesterday about a subject very painful, alarming and distressing: the neglect of a sick animal. My roommate’s insistence that his dog is fine because he’s up and around despite continued and CLEAR indications to the contrary. Going into day 9 now with no improvement or promise of a visit to the vet.

The dog is still alive — a discovery of genuine happiness and relief — today.

It may be different tomorrow. Or the next day. Or day after. We cannot say when our time will come.

I can say, with rage and pain, that the dog’s owner is hastening the end of his loyal friend’s life by his damn cavalier egotistical insistence that his dog is fine.

Today’s poop by the door.

poop1-26

Is it a picture of canine health? NO IT IS NOT!

{to my roommate now} HOW IS THIS OK?!?!? HOW DO YOU NOT SEE THAT YOUR DOG NEEDS MEDICAL INTERVENTION!?!?!

Big piles left on the floor every day ARE NOT HIM BEING “FINE.” DAILY DIARRHEA: NOT FINE.

The roommate’s 51. Hasn’t he a CLUE about the longterm effects of chronic diarrhea?! For starters.

Double the quantity and frequency of poops COUPLED with dumps indoors from a dog who always pooped on his morning and evening walks only … ARRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I’m beside myself with disgust — at the actions and attitude of my roommate / friend. Except he is no longer a friend. The friendship cannot survive animal cruelty.

A person reveals his character in two ways: What he does in a crisis when the chips are gone, and how he treats animals.

The search for new housing is on.

For now, I’m happy to write that the dog is still alive. Alive and well? No. But alive.

In light of his owner’s extended neglect, this a positive and post-worthy.

Dog says “I’m sick,” dad says “you’re fine”

I want to show you a few pictures.

Know that they’re not pretty but they’re real.

The first is what was in the front hallway when I got up.

poop1

poop in hallway this morning

The second is the poop from the dog’s afternoon walk a few days ago.

poop2

goopy poop on recent walk

And this is 30 minutes after the poop above.

poop3

goopy poop again 30 min. later

This is not my dog. The dog, a greyhound around 7 years old, belongs to my roommate. He’s about 51.

The dog is unwell and has been for a week. He is getting no better.

Both the frequency and quantity of his poops have more than doubled in the past week.

He’s also pooping in the house 1, 2, even 3 times a day. Totally abnormal. His norm is morning and evening during his walks.

The poop quality, you can see for yourself.

There’s a heap of other evidence of the dog’s unwellness that I don’t care to detail.

Yet the owner refuses to do a thing about it. He won’t take his dog to the vet or even submit a stool sample.

What “John,” let’s call him, sees is what any person can see. Copious amounts of soft-serve poop and diarrhea dumped inside the house and outside during walks.

Yet to John’s eyes, his dog is fine because he’s up and about and moving and presenting his usual occasional bursts of energy.

He’s defended his claim that his dog is fine despite copious evidence to the contrary. At that point, I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to walk out on the verge of an emotional breakdown tearjerker mixed with rage.

None of this evidence in poop and other behaviors is a concern to John. He insists he’ll “watch” his dog. His version of “caretaking.”

“Watch” him for WHAT?! His dog’s already communicating — nee SCREAMING — that he’s sick, that something’s wrong and NOT GETTING ANY BETTER, in fact is worsening over the past week.

There’s more to the story that I can’t get into. So bullet-points.

  • I can say only that after a week of this, I’m no longer cleaning up the numerous poop(s) that the dog leaves in the house during the days when I’m here and John’s at work.

A very hard decision to come to. However, there are higher reasons for it, principally that John needs to GET what his dog’s communicating and address it. I’m no longer bearing his responsibility. If the house reeks of poop, so be it.

  • If something happens to the dog, it’s on John. He’s already outright said so himself. He’d rather take the gamble of his dog succumbing to further illness and worse than provide the care and attention the dog needs and deserves.

What kind of person does this?!? You be the judge.

  • For me, he is no friend of mine.

John was a friend over the past 2 years — coincidentally almost to the day.

Our friendship will not survive this. It will not and cannot.

I used to respect John. However, his responses to his dog’s illness — the neglect, the inaction, the cavalier attitude — have illuminated things about him that not just bring me to disrespect but dislike him.

  • I no longer want to be around this person as a roommate or in my personal life.

I’ve got to get out. Move. Glitch is, a terrible tight super-competitive and expensive rental market impedes moving on the quick. There’s need for caution and to avoid jumping from the frying pan into the fire. Arrrgh.

Again, so much more to the story. Suffice it to say that I am struggling.

The dog’s health and well-being are my first concern, absolutely, far and away the first. He is unwell. He needs medical attention. This he is communicating loudly, clearly, unequivocally.

Next, I’m enraged at John and his shitty response to his loyal and steadfast friend and companion of many years. The dog deserves so much better.

So do I. Because what John, in his SELFISH ways, is failing to see is the toll this is taking on me, a HUGE animals lover and advocate and he knows this. I’d take a bullet for an animal I love. Being forced by circumstances untold to stand back and watch the dog suffer — YES, JOHN, he’s suffering DESPITE your claim that he’s fine ’cause he’s up and around — my blood BOILS just writing this!

This poor dog. He is loved by me and cared for and being prayed for every day throughout the day.

Animal abuse of any kind is wrongwrongwrong.

The comeuppance and karma, whatever form they take, that will come to John are deserved. I absolutely will feel no compassion for him. Only for this dog, this poor creature who needs and deserves so. much. better.

Prayers for him to receive the care he needs, for his recovery, for his wellness, for his life.

A New Year’s Nod to Nihon

Think of it as Black Friday in Japan — without the violent pushing, shoving, fisticuffs and occasional weaponry.

New Year’s in Japan — Nihon in Japanese — is abundant with traditions. Far more than I’d attempt in a post. Every detail has meaning and significance. Many things do I miss about life in Japan, particularly New Year’s.

No year passes without a heartfelt nod to the country that I call home on the inside at New Year’s, their biggest holiday bar none.  I’ve incorporated some of those traditions into my American life. O-sooji, for example. The Great Clean.

Another post perhaps.

Hatsumode it’s called. The first visit to a shrine or temple to welcome the new year and pray.

People flock — oh do they flock by the thousands to the bigger or more popular shrines — in those first few days, which traditionally is time off to serenely mark the new year and spend time with family and eat all kinds of very weird foods reserved for the New Year that even the Japanese admit are pretty unpalatable but hey, it’s tradition.

A peek at the traffic the renowned shrines are getting as we speak:

shrinenewyears

meijishrine

And that’s at the toori! — the gate in a long passageway to Meiji Shrine

Traditionally you offer a prayer and deposit coins into the box. But because they can’t get up close — not without a 2-hour wait which btw they’re often VERY WILLING to do — they pray and toss coins from afar, hitting visitors on the heads.

In America, country of Whiners and Blamers that we’ve become, that’d be an immediate lawsuit. Not so in Japan, one of the least litigious societies in the world. (Another reason I miss it.)

Then there’s the kadomatsu — decorations of pine and bamboo with additions of writings, oranges and other goodies — each element again having significance. They’re set outside homes and businesses to purify and bless but they come in all sizes and could easily be set at a workspace or inside your tiny apartment! Well, I’m not in Japan at the moment (perhaps again one day …) but I can certainly bless my blog!

kadomatsu

Kadomatsu — traditional Japanese New Year’s decoration that cleanses and blesses.

Then there’s one of my favs, hatsuhinode  — the first sunrise. Like the shrine visits, EXTREMELY popular! People flock — “flock,” what Japanese do consistently and well — to the coast and high places — manmade structures like Tokyo Tower are very much included! — to view the first sunrise. It is an EVENT, its own Disneyland in a sense for the special hotel and travel packages at primo viewing places around the islands.

Traditionally, that first sunrise is imbued with magical powers. It’s believed that Toshigami, a god of good luck, appeared then.

If the mountain won’t come to me, I’ll go to it — on the train of cyberspace, destination Mount Fuji. Fuji-san, as it’s called, is off-limits at the moment. It’s outside climbing season (which is dated precisely — precise, like all things Japanese!) and freakin’ cold.

I just love this photo — and appreciate it all the more for special efforts required to photograph hatsuhinode (“hatsu,” shared by all these events, means “first”) at Japan’s most famous peak.

firstsunrise

A special All Nippon Airways flight last January 1 designed for passengers to capture the first sunrise alongside Fuji-san, Japan’s most famous mountain.

Prayers to and for the light for 2019

Happy New Year

Akemashite omedetou

明けましておめでとう

A (blah) buh-bye to 2018

Feeling tongue-tied this New Year’s Eve — with 4 hours remaining in 2018.

Were that I had something inspirational to write.

Were that I did resolutions, that’d be something to write about there.

I feel blah. But not so blah to keep me at home. (“Home” is a rental room in the roommate’s condo so not home a’tall.)

I’m heading out anon to the little metaphysical store for a party. There’ll be readers, drumming, acupuncture, food and champagne at midnight — all for $12. Low-key, small group, about my speed.

This’ll be different for a New Year’s Eve celebration!

My first New Year’s Eve since moving into metro Phoenix a couple months ago. It’ll be memorable, however it shakes down.

Thanks to technology and live-streaming, we don’t have to be at Times Square or even own a TV to view that major event. I took a peek to get in the spirit. Boring musical performers so I switched over to Spotify for New Year’s Eve playlists. An improvement.

‘Tis the end of the year, no denying that, and while it’s not been the worst year, it’s been challenging enough, particularly in health developments, so I’m eager to view it in the rear-view mirror.

Really just wanted to write something before bidding buh-bye to 2018.

No pearls of wisdom here tonight. No boisterous celebration or excitement about the coming year just yet.

Here, a handful of one-liners to lift the mood and end both this post and year on a high(er) note:

  • A woman walks into a library and asked if they had any books about paranoia. The librarian says “They’re right behind you!”
  • My wife accused me of being immature. I told her to get out of my fort.
  • Did you hear about the Italian chef that died? He pasta way.
  • As I suspected, someone has been adding soil to my garden. The plot thickens.
  • The other day, my wife asked me to pass her lipstick but I accidentally passed her a glue stick. She still isn’t talking to me.