Lost and found

Some of you may have read about the mystery tooth found in the bathroom on my mommy’s Facebook page earlier this week. It’s mine. I lost another tooth. I’m not sure what this brings my total of teeth left to. I wonder how many I need to lose before I qualify for doggy dentures?

I realize I haven’t written much lately. Life is really slow for me these days. About the most exciting thing that’s happened is I’ve started going out for walks on a daily basis. It’s really only at Barkley’s insistence. She’s all about the walks. I could really care less, and it usually takes some convincing on mommy, Barkley and Sean’s part to get me motivated enough to leave my bed. Once I’m outside though, I am usually pretty invigorated by the fall air, at least enough so to walk around the block. After that, mommy drops me off at home and she and Barkley continue on for a while longer.

The leaves are the color of my fur now and soon the trees will be bare. It is the last Autumn for me, I am sure. I hear mommy talking all the time about putting me to sleep, and I can’t blame her. I am becoming a burden. I don’t mean to be. I fall all the time and rely on my mommy to boost my hindquarters up when I get stuck slipping and sliding on the wood floors. I’m not looking forward to winter. I can’t imagine trying to walk around on the snow and ice. So I wait. I watch the leaves fall, feel the air getting cooler, and I wait for the snow to fly knowing it will be the last snow I will see. And I just hope my mommy will be okay.

A message from mommy

So, I know normally these blogs are from the perspective of Lucy, but today I decided to post a little something myself, from my perspective as the mom of the most adorable, amazing and sweetest doggy in the world.

It's a rainy day, so I am not working at my landscaping job. When I woke up this morning, I got down on the floor with Lucy on her bed and snuggled with her. I stuck my nose right into the fur on her neck, a spot my mother and I always refer to as the nuzzle. As I breathed in the smell of her fur, it was so familiar and comforting. It made me think of all the things Lucy has been there for in my life over the past 15 years.

I got her when I was only 18-years-old and knew nothing about raising a dog, much less taking care of myself. The smell reminded me of all the things I've been through in those 15 years, all the people who've come and gone out of my life, the heartaches and successes I've experienced, the many places I've traveled and lived, and the constant love that Lucy has given me throughout it all. Even at my lowest and darkest periods, I've always been the center of Lucy's world. That alone has made it possible for me to rise above anything, because I know she depends on me to do so. What an amazing gift she has been in my life.

As the weather grows colder, and the rain starts to fall, I see my little girl getting so old. She's not my baby anymore. Watching her struggle with the steps, sometimes falling on the ground, walking around like she's drunk and just seeing her red furs turning white, I realize the end is coming. I can't imagine my life without her in it. Who will be there for me when everything and everyone else fails me? But things aren't the same either. I sometimes long for the days when I could bring Lucy to the dog park or swimming at the lake. I would give anything to see her chase her ball again. Now it's more like taking care of an old woman, with my only goal to keep her comfortable, fed and happy.

With winter will come the most difficult decision I've ever had to make in my life. You see, sometimes food, medicine, water and love aren't enough to keep an old body going. It's hard because she can still eat, drink and go outside to the bathroom on her own, but it's getting more and more difficult for her do so. So I have to do right by my best friend and make the last decision to end her life before it becomes too difficult for her to live with dignity. I realize everyday I have with her is one less day I have with her, and no matter how ready I may tell myself I am, I don't know how I'll live without her. She has been the greatest challenge, the greatest joy, and the most amazing gift of my life. That's why I try to take the time out of everyday to just sit and hold her in my arms and enjoy her nuzzles. Her fur is much more than a warm coat to keep her warm, it's smell, it's feel, it's warmth are a reminder of the past 15 years of my life and everything we've been through.

Hey everyone. Not too much news to report on the Lucy-front. I just thought I would take a moment to thank all my followers up till this point. I know my life can be dull at times, but you'll understand someday when you're 105-years-old. I have to give a big shout-out to my pal Alex back in Blacksburg, VA. She signed on as my 30th follower today which made me decide I should probably celebrate with an extra Milkbone or something. Mommy and I miss you Alex.

No, I'm not blind. I'm just ignoring you.

Hey there folks. I know things have been kind of boring for me lately, so I thought maybe I'd write about something educational today. For many years now, I've had this thing happening with my eyes that many people often mistake for glaucoma. It's this condition that makes my eyes glow like lasers in pictures. People often think it means I am blind, but actually, I can see pretty good.


The condition that causes this is Progressive Retinal Atrophy or Degeneration of the Retina. It is a progressive disease that worsens with age and can eventually cause blindness. So far, I've been pretty lucky though and it has been a slow progression.

According to the web site peteducation.com:
Signs may vary depending on the type of PRA and its rate of progression. PRA is non painful and outward appearance of the eye is often normal, i.e.; no redness, excess tearing, or squinting. Owners may notice a change in personality of their dog such as a reluctance to go down stairs or down a dark hallway. This is characteristic of night blindness, in which vision may appear to improve during the daytime. As the disease progresses, owners can observe a dilation of the pupils and the reflection of light from the back of the eye. If the blindness is progressing slowly, the owner may not notice any signs until the dog is in unfamiliar surroundings and the lack of vision is more apparent. In some animals, the lens of the eyes may become opaque or cloudy.
Unfortunately, there is no treatment for PRA, nor a way to slow the progression of the disease. Animals with PRA usually become blind.

I am pretty lucky that I still have my vision, but mommy has been noticing it is getting worse. Sometimes when she goes to let me in (when she remembers to), both in the daytime and night, she notices that I'll be standing at the bottom of the stairs staring at the door waiting for it to open. At first, I might not see her, so then she waves her hand to get my attention and that usually does the trick. I also have a tendency to stare into mirrors a lot. I'm not sure if that has to do with my vision condition. I think it's more just due to the fact that I'm so vain and I want to make sure my hair looks just right.

Well, hope you are feeling enlightened by that little tid bit. I figured some dog owners might find it interesting and educational.

I'm still alive

Hey folks. My mother said she's been getting a lot of people asking if I'm still alive and how I'm doing, so I figured I'd better blog. My mommy has been busy freelancing and looking for a better job, so she really hasn't had time to write for me. I am feeling really great lately actually and am navigating the stairs quite well. In other news, I'm still the prettiest dog in the world, at least that's what my mommy tells me everyday. She also told me I have the sweetest smelling breath in the world. I give her as many kisses as she'll allow me to.

I recently went on a trip to a place called Hoppyville. There was a lot of action...actually a little too much for me. Thankfully mommy put my bed in her cabin and left the door open so I could come and go as I pleased. It was refreshing to be out in the great outdoors for long periods of time.

Recently my mother has been having trouble remembering to let me in after she lets me out to go the bathroom. And I'm the old one? Sometimes she leaves me out there for as long as 25 minutes, leaving me no choice but to wander into the neighbors yard, or to the bar on the corner in hopes someone will see me and call the number on my tag. Mommy was pretty sad that she deleted one of the voice mails left by one of the kind souls who found me wandering the streets a few weeks ago. She realized after the fact that it would have made a great blog.

Well, I'll try to write more soon.

What up dawgs?

I know it's been ages since my last blog, but that's not my fault. Apparently my mother has been too busy, or too sad to blog for me because, well, lately things have been going downhill for me. But let's not dwell on the melodramatic. Let me give you an update on what's been going on with me and the other dogs in my life.


I'll start with my friend Red. He recently came over for a weekend to stay, or at least that's what his mother intended. Red had a completely different agenda. He ran away. It gave my mom quite a scare. She searched for him for hours, followed every lead she got, and when she had given up hope, she hung up missing posters. That same evening, she got the brilliant idea to post something on Craig's list. Lo and behold, some good citizen had gotten Red to stop running long enough for the doggy police to pick him up and take him in. Thanks to the posting on Craig's list, she was able to assure Red's mommy that he was safe in jail for the night and that she would go get him in the morning.

You may wonder why I'm telling you about this, since it really isn't about me. Well, let me tell you. The morning after Red's great escape, before my mommy went to pick him up in jail, she let me outside to do my morning duties, and get this.....she forgot me! I know. It seems utterly impossible someone could lose two dogs in less than 24 hours, but that's just what she did. She let me out and then went to breakfast. That left me no choice but to wander the neighborhood looking for someone to help me get back home.

To add insult to injury, when the kind neighbor called her to report me found, she denied any knowledge of me. She said the person must be confused and that the dog she was looking for had been found and was in jail. It took the neighbor a few tries before my mom realized it was me that she had lost this time. The gall of that woman. I almost ran away on purpose after that incident. I'm still giving her the cold shoulder. And poor Red. He must still be traumatized. He actually ran so long and so far his paws blistered and peeled.

In other news, Barkley has discovered the joys of the fan. I, on the other hand, just insisted my mother install an air conditioner. Fans are so 1980.

With my health continuing to deteriorate, things have been rough for me. I am having more trouble than ever getting up and down. I can no longer do any stairs without assistance. I really have no interest in walks or balls anymore. Mommy thinks I might be on my last leg. I believe she's planning on putting me down come winter. This has been a difficult decision for both of us. I want her to do what's right for me, but I love her so much and I know she won't be able to cope with my loss.




While I've been experiencing a lot of lasts as of late (like my last bath ever), I recently experienced a first. My mother was out at a concert when one of her old friends came up to her to express their condolences on my passing. I guess she got the impression from my blogs (or the lack thereof) that I had passed away or been put down. I guess that's why I decided to make a deal with mom. I let her brush me in exchange for her posting a blog. So folks, there it is. I'll try to write more, but as you know, my mother is awful busy. She owes me big time though.

A walk in the woods

I went on a hike about a month ago at Corbett's Glenn. It was a beautiful place, but the rolling hills sure did tire me out.

We get by with a little help from a friend.

Are we there yet?

I guess that wasn't so bad.

Can't get into the Cadillac with muddy paws now, can we?

Meet my new roommate

I recently moved into yet another apartment. Although I do wish my mother would just stay put for a while, I'm kind of excited about this new living arrangement because this house comes with a roommate. Meet Barkley, a 12-year-old Chow, Cocker Spaniel, Golden Retriever mix. She's even got a purple tongue.

At first, things were a little testy between Barkley and I. We had two little fights, both which resulted in me being pinned to the ground, but now that we've come to an agreement on who's the boss, things are really great. I pretend she's the boss, but I secretly know I rule this roost. Mommy said it's good for me to have a companion to grow old with.

It's nice to have someone to walk beside. Sometimes I even lean on Barkley a little bit for help keeping my balance. She doesn't like treats nearly as much as I do, and she seems to have turned a blind-eye to my tennis ball. She has squeaked my fuzzy soccer ball a few times, but she seems to understand it's not something to chew on, only to be admired and kicked around, so I haven't stopped her from using it yet.

Although she's much more spry than I am, she's not very fast when it comes to eating her treats, so I've taken to gobbling up my own treat and then quickly rushing to where Barkley is with hers and stealing it. She usually gets mad, but I don't care.

I think I've taught this young whippersnapper a few new tricks. Being that she's still able to jump on the people bed, she sleeps there by day. She likes the vantage point from the bed for people watching, but I know for a fact she's also making eyes at the Spud's Mckenzie dog that lives on the second floor across the street. Mommy told me she's caught them staring at one another a few times. Barkley recently got her own bed, so now she's getting the feel of what it's like to be a real dog. I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of Barkley's bed and when she's not using it, I'll sleep on it just to remind her who's the real boss here. I'm sure you'll hear more about Barkley and I in future blogs. Barkley doesn't have a blog. She's just not there yet.

I will survive

Sorry I've been on hiatus from blogging folks. My mommy told me many of you were looking forward to reading my stuff, so I apologize for the long absence. I've had a lot going on, much of which I'll be getting into over my next few blog posts, but first and foremost, I have to tell you all the great news. I'm not dying!!! I went to the vet yesterday and I got a new leash on life.

For the past few weeks, I've been having a lot of of trouble getting around. I've been falling a lot, walking around like I am drunk, and turning around has been nearly impossible. If I get myself backed into a corner, I find the best way to get out is to sit down, walk my front legs around to the direction I need to head in, and then I drag my back legs up and head on my merry way. It's been pretty hard for my mommy to watch, and she's been concerned that I might be in pain, or on my last legs (no pun intended). When mom's friends come over and see how I'm acting, they get really sad, or say "poor dog." There's been talk about maybe getting me a wheelie cart for my back legs, or even worse, putting me to sleep.

Well, thank god my mommy got an expert's opinion, because it winds up I'm not even close to knockin' on heaven's door, or at least not as close as mom feared I was. Apparently I wasn't taking a strong enough dose of my Rimadyl and so it was barely even helping me. The vet more than doubled my dose.

According to the vet, there's pressure on my spine, either from a tumor, a cyst or a bulged disc, which is stopping the communication between my head and my back legs. The vet said it's like walking around without being able to feel your feet or know where they are. It's just something that happens with old age, and it simply means I need a little more time to get around. But the good news is, he reassured mom I'm not in pain.

The best news is, the vet told my mom there are three indicators of when a dog is getting ready to die or be put to sleep; appearance, activity and appetite. My mommy told him that my appetite is the same as it's always been. Although it's a bit more difficult for me to move around, that doesn't stop me from pacing the floors constantly or walking in the park or around the block. As for appearance, well, I'm as gorgeous as ever. Besides some tartar build-up on my teeth, the vet said I'm in excellent shape for my age and he thinks I have a good amount more time on the earth. So, look forward to more blogs in the future. Until my back legs give out entirely, or something else changes, I'm not going anywhere. (Mom, please get more treats for me because this calls for a celebration.)

I'm really sorry I haven't had time to blog lately. Mom said people are going to stop reading if I don't come up with something to write about soon. I'm just exhausted lately. Getting old is a lot harder than I could have ever imagined. I turn 15 tomorrow.

A few of my favorite things

Now that spring is here and the snow is gone making it easier for me to walk, I figured I'd blog about a few of my favorite things.


1. Lying in the sun at the beach, in grandma's Florida room or at home.


2. My fuzzy soccer ball. Please refer to Introducing the amazing tales of Lucy for a photo of the ball.

3. My grandma. After getting off on the wrong foot with her by chewing some antique furniture, I finally won her over and now I'm her favorite grand-dog.

4. Treats. Only the best for me, Milk-Bone brand. Please refer to Dog Training 101 in order to get your owner to provide maximum number of treats per day.

5. Cleaning myself. I like to think I have the cleanest and whitest paws in Rochester, if not the country.

6. Smelling things. It's the beagle in me.

7. Squirrels. Mom once captured a picture of me running half-way up the tree after one. I haven't done that in years. Once I caught a squirrel in my grandma's yard and I broke it's leg. Mommy is still upset with me over that incident.


8. My mom. She knows how to scratch me in the right places, and which treats to buy me. She's always trying to find ways to make my life easier, although she also tries to rush me a lot.

9. Getting my ears itched. When it's done right, I make a groaning noise to express my appreciation.

Knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door

Okay, so for the most part, my blogs are usually funny and upbeat, but these past few days I've been really feeling my age. In just 10 days, I'll be turning 15 years old.

I attended a birthday party this weekend at a house with all wood floors. It was very difficult for me to get around. I am falling a lot more than usual lately. Yesterday, I was over at my friend Barkley's house eating some of her food and I fell on the floor pretty hard, spilling the entire dish of food all over. And today, I got a stomach ache and threw-up my breakfast. I know I'm not getting any younger. I love my mommy so much I can't stand the thought of leaving her all alone, but lately I'm just so tired, clumsy and forgetful.

I know the issue of how long I should live is weighing heavily on my mommy's mind. I suppose I don't make it any easier on her when I have my good and bad days. One day I'm knocking on heaven's door, and the next, I'm off hiking more than a mile. Sooner or later I know my mommy's going to make an appointment with the veterinarian and I'm pretty sure they're going to tell her she has to get me a new medicine, one that will be much pricier than the medicine I am currently taking.

So, how do you know when it's time? Since I can't tell my mommy myself, maybe some of my dear followers could give her some guidance or advice, or even just a little comfort as my final destination draws closer.

Last Will and Testament

Okay, so I'm not gonna lie....I'm getting old so I figured I should get my matters in order sooner than later. So here it goes.

My Last Will and Testament

1. My fuzzy soccer ball
It would be a sin not to leave my favorite toy to the guy who introduced me to it in the first place, Gatsby Siftar. I bequeath my yellow spotted fleece soccer ball to him, despite the fact that he already has at least five of them, including a few of mine that I left at his house when I lived there for a short while. It will most certainly add to his toy collection, which could quite possibly be the largest in Rochester, NY.



2. My comfy bed
I know she covets my bed, therefore I will leave it to Barkley Flaherty. She's an old dog and I know her aching bones will appreciate it. Plus, then she can have one bed for upstairs and one for downstairs.



3. My food and water dish
These items will be left to my cousin Baxter Cavalier because he is a horse and eats and drinks like one. (photo to come soon)



4. My leash
I have had the same leash since I was a puppy. I used to chew it when I went for walks, but somehow it's stood the test of time. I will leave this to my mommy so she'll always have something to remember me by. So help me god if she lets her next dog use it. I'll come back to haunt her if she does.






5. The tip of my tail
This will go to my grandma, since she still finds humor in the fact that my mommy cut it off the first time I almost died.







6. Any leftover milk bones, dog food or arthritis medicine

Seen here in my former dungeon, I leave my food, dog bones and arthritis medicine to my aunt Casey since I always eat hers when I'm visiting the spa at Grandma's house.






7. My brush, nail clippers and toothbrush - As my final wishes, I want these items to be burned so as to never torture another living soul again.

Full house

When I was six years old, I lived with these two awesome guys named Chance and Isaac. We were one big happy family squeezed in a small two-bedroom log cabin in Scriba, NY. It started out as me, my mommy, my nother mother (as I call her) and Isaac Marie, a beautiful husky-lab mix with sky-blue eyes.

We should have smelled trouble when my nother mother started visiting the dog pound on a regular basis. There she met Romeo, a black and white spotted mix-breed who had been living at the pound for several months. My nother mother brought home a picture of him and put it on the fridge because we didn’t have room for another body in the house…or so we thought.

One day my nother mother got a call from the pound. Someone had dropped off a litter of puppies and they needed to make room. Romeo was going to be put to sleep. My mommy and my nother mother quickly agreed that Romeo would come live with us. We weren’t sure what kind of a doggy he would be, especially after being in a cage for so long.

Romeo got a new name when he came to live with us…Chance or Chancey. He won us all over right away, all 65 plus pounds of love. He loved to lean all his weight on you, or just lay in your lap. Although he stayed in a cage for the first few days to be sure he wasn’t going to go AWOL on the house, my mommy and nother mother quickly realized Chance was just happy to be home.

I loved to play with Chance and Isaac. For such big boys, they were so gentle with me. One time though, my ear got caught between somebody’s teeth and it broke a blood vessel. My ear puffed up really big and filled with blood. I had to get surgery, but it didn’t stop me from playing with my boys or humping them. It was an accident after all.

And just when we thought our family was complete, along came a cat. This cat must have had nine lives. When it came to our house, it was the dead of winter. The cat had been seeking shelter under the porch, and preying upon my mommy and nother mother’s animal loving hearts. Before you know it, we had a new family member.

At first we figured the cat wouldn’t want to live with three dogs and that would be the end of things. As soon as the black cat stepped foot in the door though, Isaac fell in love. He immediately stepped up to clean the cat’s coat with his teeth, a habit he would continue until we all separated. And the cat loved us all in return. We named our new family member Miner, as in coal miner.

It turns out the cat was a rabid killer. Miner would bring home more food than it could eat to the chagrin of my two moms, as well as our landlord. One time Miner got in a fight with a raccoon. My mommy heard it in the middle of the night but figured it was some wild animals fighting. Miner’s tail almost fell off before we discovered her wounds. She lived though and the hair grew back white on her tail, so now she’s not a true black cat.

I only saw Chance and Isaac a few times after we moved out of the log cabin. Chance is 14-years-old now and crazy as ever according to my nother mother. He lives in Germany. Isaac Marie passed away in October 2007. He was nine. Miner is now retired on Irondequoit Bay in Rochester. Her age is unknown.

I betcha didn't know....

Here's some fun facts about myself for my adoring fans.

1. I love cats. I've lived with many cats throughout my life and let me say, I think they are getting a bad rap. I've even been known to get them to wrestle.



2. I am a redneck. Not because I lived in Virginia, but because I only have about half of my teeth. Had my mommy known how important it was to brush my teeth when I was younger, maybe I wouldn't have had so many problems. I've had two dental surgeries totaling about $900. I'm down to about 12 teeth now.


3. I loved to chew as a puppy. Among the things I destroyed are at least a dozen pair of shoes, a couch and love seat, bathroom floor tiles, bike helmets, Birkenstocks, a bongo drum and anything else mommy was stupid enough to leave out...and that's all I can recall off the top of my head.


4. I have nine lives. In addition to surviving autoimmune hemolytic anemia, I almost choked to death when my choke collar got caught on my friend Midnight's jaw in a play fight and I was attacked by dogs twice. I've also fallen down the stairs quite a few times. Mommy said she's thought I was a goner a few times.


5. I'm deaf, not blind. Sometimes people ask my mommy if I'm blind because my eyes sort of let off a strange glow when the light hits them right, or whenever I allow myself to be subjected to flash photography. My sight is just fine. My hearing is a different story. I will sleep through a monsoon. Sometimes mommy can be home for 15 minutes before I wake up and realize it.



6. I may have a substance abuse problem.








7. My mommy once sent me to Long Island to live with one of her college roommates for a summer. About two weeks into my stay, my foster grandmother kicked me out. My mommy had to drive all the way down to Long Island to retrieve me. While we were there, we visited New York City where I rode the subway and saw Ziggy Marley and the Wailers for free in Central Park.

8. I look like a fox when I sleep.

Marley & Me

Before the book Marley & Me came to fame, I had my own friend named Marley. She was a great gal. We met before or after the time I almost died, so maybe when I was 6? You’ll have to excuse me…my memory isn’t what it used to be.

I really liked Marley because she minded her own business and gave me my space. Walking side by side or sniffing one another’s butt was about as close as we ever got to playing. Marley and I were exercise buddies, which was a result of our mommies being exercise buddies. She taught me a lot.

We used to go walking almost everyday. On our walks, Marley was allowed to walk off her leash. Of course, as soon as I saw this, I knew it was something I wanted to be able to do too. Thankfully my mommy wanted to try it out too. I guess she had a problem with stopping every two feet for me to smell something. I learned how to walk off the leash, and how to stop and wait to be prompted to cross the street by watching Marley. That’s not to say I didn’t give mommy a few scares running across the street after a squirrel or two. I still do walk off my leash, and I know to stop before crossing the street, only now that I’m deaf, mommy has to hold my collar until I get to the other side.

Marley also taught me how to swim. I don’t mean literally how to swim. I think I was born knowing the doggy paddle. Before Marley and I met, I would only get in the water to chase a stick. Marley showed me how to swim for leisure. Since our walks often brought us to Lake Ontario, our mommies would often stop to let us take a dip and chase a few sticks. Sometimes though, Marley would just go swimming out in the lake for pleasure, no sticks required. When Marley’s mommy would go in for a swim, she would challenge Marley to a race. This involved the two of them swimming a ways from shore, then turning around and racing back. Lo and behold, once, my mommy and I did a similar race. I let mommy win.

Marley and I would also go cross-country skiing. The longest distance I ever went with her was six miles on the Tug Hill Plateau. I’m pretty sure that’s when the photo of us was taken. As you can see we were pretty pooped. I miss Marley a lot. She was probably my best girlfriend. She passed away a few years ago. She’s the kind of dog who could probably have written a blog herself. She lived a very full and interesting life, undoubtedly better than some people. That’s probably why she was so cool.