This'll be a long post because I can't bring myself to write a short one...
We lost Niko, the canine member of our family. He was 12 and developed a tumor on his liver. Outside of some arthritis, he was acting fine until the last 36 hours of his life. He was a beautiful collie/shepherd mix. I used to tell people he got by on his looks. He was a calm, friendly dog unless you were a delivery guy coming up the front walk, then you would think he was a rabid wolf.
I grew up with dogs in the house, but Niko was my first dog as an adult. My wife was afraid of dogs growing up, then became used to them, from being at my family's house. But never what you would call a “dog person.” She remained reluctant to give in to the kids...
I grew up with dogs in the house, but Niko was my first dog as an adult. My wife was afraid of dogs growing up, then became used to them, from being at my family's house. But never what you would call a “dog person.” She remained reluctant to give in to the kids...
My oldest started asking for a dog almost from the time she learned to talk. When she learned to write, she would make lists to Santa, always including a dog. Over time and with additional siblings, she got her younger sisters on board, as well. But, unfortunately, we were five people in a four-room apartment. There was no room for a dog. Plus our landlord didn't want pets in the apartment. The requests never stopped no matter how strongly we made our case. When our oldest went off to college, our youngest decided that was the time to get a dog, since there was some room now. We had to explain to her that's not how it worked and that her big sister would be back from time to time. Eventually, they wore us down to the point where we told them "when we get a house you can have a dog." It was a dirty trick because we were never going to be able to afford a house.
Years later, we inherited half-a-house when my mother-in-law passed. My wife wanted to see if we could swing a mortgage and buy the other half from her sibling. It all worked out and in a few months, we moved into our home, after installing new carpets, painting, treating the wood floors and getting new furniture. Within a week our kids reminded us of our promise. These are kids who couldn't remember to do their homework or take out the trash, but this they remembered.
Years later, we inherited half-a-house when my mother-in-law passed. My wife wanted to see if we could swing a mortgage and buy the other half from her sibling. It all worked out and in a few months, we moved into our home, after installing new carpets, painting, treating the wood floors and getting new furniture. Within a week our kids reminded us of our promise. These are kids who couldn't remember to do their homework or take out the trash, but this they remembered.
As I said, my wife wasn’t a dog person and really didn't want a dog. She was worried about the new furnishings and rugs in the house. But the kids turned up the heat. One night in bed, she asked me if I wanted a dog. I told her I did. She responded, "Why didn't you ever say anything before?" What was I, twelve? I knew a dog would have been impractical in the apartment. Now we had room. If the kids wanted a dog, I had no objection. Besides, I pointed out, a dog is a good protector of the house. So, that Christmas we wrapped a coupon "good for one dog" in a box and placed it under the tree. There was no way I was going to just pick out a dog for them and hand it over. We knew it was going to be a rescue. Immediately, during that holiday break, we, under a lot of pressure, began our dog quest.
We started at the local shelters. On Staten Island, there are nothing but pit bulls up for adoption. I have nothing against them, but not the kind of dog for a family that never had a dog before. Certain people were VERY disappointed we didn't get a dog on day one. A few days later we headed out to the North Shore Animal League. We walked in. It's a large facility. The first dogs presented are the true rescue dogs, older dogs that were saved from puppy mills and such. I feel for them, but we wanted a puppy. We were directed to the puppy room.
We started at the local shelters. On Staten Island, there are nothing but pit bulls up for adoption. I have nothing against them, but not the kind of dog for a family that never had a dog before. Certain people were VERY disappointed we didn't get a dog on day one. A few days later we headed out to the North Shore Animal League. We walked in. It's a large facility. The first dogs presented are the true rescue dogs, older dogs that were saved from puppy mills and such. I feel for them, but we wanted a puppy. We were directed to the puppy room.
There, in stacked cages like a giant Hollywood Squares game were the puppies available for adoption. So many. We browsed back and forth, over and over. The shelter lets you take out the puppy so you can interact with it. We selected two. As we walked over to the area to meet the puppies, a large group of people entered the room. It's like a bus pulled up. We knew that this was it. We had to pick our dog, and be sure of it. Once we put the other one back, it would be taken. We had a fluffy shepherd-collie mix and a Labrador mix. The Labrador acted like an excited puppy. The collie-shepherd mix got very still and was giving us the once-over. He was calm. He was fluffy. He was very handsome with adorable markings and white "socks" on his feet. The family was split. I think I was the deciding vote. For the shepherd mix.
We had to be vetted, with two references. We actually saw two people ahead of us turned down! But we passed. We had a dog. And a 60 minute drive home. Across the street was a pet store (How convenient!) and we bought some supplies; food, chew toys, a collar and leash, crate, bowls and water bottle. The shelter gave us a donation blanket, which would become the dog's.
We had to be vetted, with two references. We actually saw two people ahead of us turned down! But we passed. We had a dog. And a 60 minute drive home. Across the street was a pet store (How convenient!) and we bought some supplies; food, chew toys, a collar and leash, crate, bowls and water bottle. The shelter gave us a donation blanket, which would become the dog's.
The ride home was consumed with coming up with a name. Ridiculous names were suggested (George Constanza, Mr. Woffington) but we kept circling back to the fact that he looked like a raccoon. Bandit was rejected. As was Rocky (as in Rocky Raccoon). Then we remembered the raccoon in the Disney cartoon "Pocahontas" and tried to remember what its name was. Niko, right? Everyone agreed, Niko was a great name. It wasn't until later we discovered the raccoon's name was "Meeko," so, whoops.
We were hungry and stopped for sandwiches to go. Here's where we realized how unprepared we were. We didn't have anything to take him home in, except a cardboard box lid that happened to be in the back of the car. We ate, but had nothing for the puppy. The tried to give him water from a water bottle. We didn't dare feed him part of a sandwich, not a 6 week-old puppy with a warning from the shelter that he could only eat dog food.
Once home, I laid out some newspaper in the kitchen and Niko walked over and peed on it. I was stunned and excited. The rest of the family didn't understand why I was so excited, but Niko was paper-trained! Right out of the box (lid)! I remember trying to train the dogs when I was younger. They peed all over! My mother was finding pee-stains for years.
We were hungry and stopped for sandwiches to go. Here's where we realized how unprepared we were. We didn't have anything to take him home in, except a cardboard box lid that happened to be in the back of the car. We ate, but had nothing for the puppy. The tried to give him water from a water bottle. We didn't dare feed him part of a sandwich, not a 6 week-old puppy with a warning from the shelter that he could only eat dog food.
Once home, I laid out some newspaper in the kitchen and Niko walked over and peed on it. I was stunned and excited. The rest of the family didn't understand why I was so excited, but Niko was paper-trained! Right out of the box (lid)! I remember trying to train the dogs when I was younger. They peed all over! My mother was finding pee-stains for years.
We got a vet. We learned where a groomer was. We were told he couldn't go out for 6 months, after he got all his shots. We essentially moved into our basement for 3 months; the floor was linoleum down there, so the new carpets would be safe.
My wife wasn't working at the time, so they got to seriously bond over the next few weeks. He won her heart. I knew this, especially after one morning months later, Niko pooped on the living room rug! And her reaction? "Oh, poor Niko, we didn't get him outside fast enough!" That's when I knew he was golden.
Finally, we were able to take him out into the world! We could now take him for walks and teach him to do his business outside. That proved harder than you'd think. We would walk and walk and walk and he wouldn't go. He held it in until we got home so he could pee and poop at home on the newspaper. Finally one day we stayed out so long that he pooped outside. He looked ashamed and embarrassed as if he had made a mistake. I had to go "good boy, good boy" over and over. But after that, he got it.
My wife wasn't working at the time, so they got to seriously bond over the next few weeks. He won her heart. I knew this, especially after one morning months later, Niko pooped on the living room rug! And her reaction? "Oh, poor Niko, we didn't get him outside fast enough!" That's when I knew he was golden.
Finally, we were able to take him out into the world! We could now take him for walks and teach him to do his business outside. That proved harder than you'd think. We would walk and walk and walk and he wouldn't go. He held it in until we got home so he could pee and poop at home on the newspaper. Finally one day we stayed out so long that he pooped outside. He looked ashamed and embarrassed as if he had made a mistake. I had to go "good boy, good boy" over and over. But after that, he got it.
I must say, he was a very popular dog in the neighborhood. I didn't know anyone in the neighborhood until I started taking Niko out for walks. I had no idea there were that many dogs around. The favorite place to walk was around the local public school that was big block and had a good-sized plot of land and trees as part of a park. Everyone walked their dogs there. Often there were as many as 10 dogs walking together. This was Niko's favorite thing, going for walks and meeting other dogs. It was funny, he had his favorite dog friends, some dogs he tolerated and some dogs he flat out avoided. He would often pull me off into a section of the park "to sniff something" because some dog he didn’t like was approaching. Once the dog passed, we returned to the main walkway. Much like I do at work. When he saw one of his buddies ahead of us, we would starting pulling me faster to catch up. If he saw they were behind us, he would stop, full lock-down. He couldn't be budged until that dog caught up to us.
It's not like he romped and frolicked. He was just happy to walk alongside them. If there was too much commotion with the dogs, he would wind up hiding behind me. He was very much a dog that enjoyed the calm. Too many kids on bikes or scooters, and he got nervous and wanted to head home.
It's not like he romped and frolicked. He was just happy to walk alongside them. If there was too much commotion with the dogs, he would wind up hiding behind me. He was very much a dog that enjoyed the calm. Too many kids on bikes or scooters, and he got nervous and wanted to head home.
People often noted, "I never hear him bark." That was true; quiet and stoic, was he. Unless you delivered something to the house. He was very territorial like that. He didn't bother with squirrels or cats unless they wound up in our backyard.
We realized he enjoyed sitting at the front door and looking out, so for 12 years, when we were home, the front door was opened--summer, spring, winter and fall for him to keep an eye on the neighborhood.
He would go nuts when the mailman came. Crazed attack-dog mode. Then we met the mailman one day on our walk. Niko recognized the mail truck. However, when the mailman stepped over, Niko ducked behind me. The mailman couldn't believe this was the same dog. Turned out, the mailman carried dog treats with him and gave Niko one. So, from then on in, we would often find a treat in the mailbox with our mail. And he would talk to Niko through the glass door, even though Niko still when into full crazed attack-dog mode whenever he approached.
We realized he enjoyed sitting at the front door and looking out, so for 12 years, when we were home, the front door was opened--summer, spring, winter and fall for him to keep an eye on the neighborhood.
He would go nuts when the mailman came. Crazed attack-dog mode. Then we met the mailman one day on our walk. Niko recognized the mail truck. However, when the mailman stepped over, Niko ducked behind me. The mailman couldn't believe this was the same dog. Turned out, the mailman carried dog treats with him and gave Niko one. So, from then on in, we would often find a treat in the mailbox with our mail. And he would talk to Niko through the glass door, even though Niko still when into full crazed attack-dog mode whenever he approached.
He loved car rides and we sometimes took him with us when we visited the grandkids. Also rides to the groomer and vet, even if it meant a shot or something. He loved pizza crust and cold cuts. He was always begging for treats and if I ever came out of the kitchen, he assumed I was bringing him one, so I'd have to show him my empty hands. He was our "snow puppy" who was the only one happy when it snowed. He'd run around back yard, shoving his face in the snow, then go on the deck, curl up and lay there for a while, or until my wife got worried for him and called him inside.
When we were originally deciding what kind of dog we would try to get, I said "A real dog." Everyone we knew had small lap dogs. I saw these guys try to deal with stairs and such. That's what I would say, I wanted a dog that could handle steps. Naturally, Niko developed a fear of stairs for a while. He wouldn't do up or down unless I "spotted" him, standing behind him, urging him on. Then my wife began a new job. He'd be left alone during the day and get really excited when she came home. When she would go upstairs to change, Niko had a choice; stay downstairs by himself or get over his fear of stairs. His separation anxiety got him over his bathmophobia. I suspect his fear developed from possibly have a seizure on the stairs when were weren't home. Oh, right, he had canine epilepsy.
I thought getting a "mutt" meant you were getting a good, healthy dog, the best of any breed. Not so much. Shots cost more because normal shots might cause a reaction from his collie side. And epilepsy is common in shepherds. So we got the worse of both. He developed it when he was two and after realizing they were coming closer together and were getting stronger, the vet put him on medication, which he had to take the rest of his life. Which now meant annual blood tests, to make sure the liver wasn't be effected by the meds. Which is how they found the tumor eventually.
When we were originally deciding what kind of dog we would try to get, I said "A real dog." Everyone we knew had small lap dogs. I saw these guys try to deal with stairs and such. That's what I would say, I wanted a dog that could handle steps. Naturally, Niko developed a fear of stairs for a while. He wouldn't do up or down unless I "spotted" him, standing behind him, urging him on. Then my wife began a new job. He'd be left alone during the day and get really excited when she came home. When she would go upstairs to change, Niko had a choice; stay downstairs by himself or get over his fear of stairs. His separation anxiety got him over his bathmophobia. I suspect his fear developed from possibly have a seizure on the stairs when were weren't home. Oh, right, he had canine epilepsy.
I thought getting a "mutt" meant you were getting a good, healthy dog, the best of any breed. Not so much. Shots cost more because normal shots might cause a reaction from his collie side. And epilepsy is common in shepherds. So we got the worse of both. He developed it when he was two and after realizing they were coming closer together and were getting stronger, the vet put him on medication, which he had to take the rest of his life. Which now meant annual blood tests, to make sure the liver wasn't be effected by the meds. Which is how they found the tumor eventually.
The dog never chewed shoes or furniture. He was good like that. He’d steal the occasional sock or panty and make you chase him around for it. As a puppy he liked to chew sticks. He actually found an ancient stump in the backyard and made that his hobby, chewing on it and digging around it. Until he actually dug it out and walked it over to the patio one day. I planted an apple tree in the hole he created.
He did, once, get hold of my youngest’s cell phone and chewed that up when he was a few months old. She was mad at him for a long time about that.
The pandemic years altered a lot of our behavior. Once he saw I was home in the beginning, he simply assumed he was getting a walk after every meal, not just dinner. He was getting three walks a day at one point. Then about a year into the shut-down his age started to catch up to him. He was having trouble getting up. Not terrible (certainly not worse than me trying to get up out of a chair) but his joints were starting to go. When the summer came with the heat, he had less interest in walks, just waiting until the evening when it would get a little cooler. There was a new generation of dogs out there now, all high-energy puppies. While his romping days were passed him, he still like to hang with them, sniff some butts, and learned who was carrying extra treats. I gave him some supplements and as the weather cooled, he was more receptive to walking.
He did, once, get hold of my youngest’s cell phone and chewed that up when he was a few months old. She was mad at him for a long time about that.
The pandemic years altered a lot of our behavior. Once he saw I was home in the beginning, he simply assumed he was getting a walk after every meal, not just dinner. He was getting three walks a day at one point. Then about a year into the shut-down his age started to catch up to him. He was having trouble getting up. Not terrible (certainly not worse than me trying to get up out of a chair) but his joints were starting to go. When the summer came with the heat, he had less interest in walks, just waiting until the evening when it would get a little cooler. There was a new generation of dogs out there now, all high-energy puppies. While his romping days were passed him, he still like to hang with them, sniff some butts, and learned who was carrying extra treats. I gave him some supplements and as the weather cooled, he was more receptive to walking.
During his annual physical and blood work, the vet discovered his liver enzymes were elevated. We set up an appointment for a sonogram and that's when we learned he had a tumor on his liver. They said he might have a couple of months. I took it literally at first, but we were not seeing any change in behavior. Yes, there was weight loss, but I was thinking that might have been good for his joints. Then a month later, he was sick. Vomiting and diarrhea for 24 hours. I spoke with the vet. He said to wait a day, to see if it was a virus. He didn't want us rushing to any conclusions.
The day and night went poorly. He was vomiting up bile during the course of the night. He would get up to go out. It was diarrhea. Finally the vet's office opened. He gave us the last appointment of the day, four hours off. My two daughters came over to simply sit with him as he tried to rest. He didn't move. He licked some ice only to throw up again.
The day and night went poorly. He was vomiting up bile during the course of the night. He would get up to go out. It was diarrhea. Finally the vet's office opened. He gave us the last appointment of the day, four hours off. My two daughters came over to simply sit with him as he tried to rest. He didn't move. He licked some ice only to throw up again.
Finally, it was time to go. He suddenly wanted to get up, walk to the back door, down the steps to poop and pee one last time in the yard. He laid down again and we let him until we were all ready to leave.
The vet examined him. His liver was hard and enlarged. It had gotten bad a lot faster than anyone thought it would. He confirmed it was time and we got to stay with Niko as the vet put him to sleep. It was gut-wrenching. I hope he knew how much we cared for him, but it's hard to tell, what with him being a dog and all.
As time passes, the pain recedes. But then something happens and it all floods back. When I'm making lunch and open the can of tuna, no one comes trotting in to get his share. We don't have to leave the door open. We're not stepping over anyone to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night. All these things that we got used to because we had an animal in the house are now simply gone. He was a good dog. He was the perfect dog for this family and I'm glad we found each other.
We're still dealing with the lost. He was my pandemic pal while working from home. In the evenings, I’m no longer dictated to by Niko. I consider the money we'll now save; medication, food, shots, grooming. But I miss him. I miss the walks. The playfulness. His attention. Coming home to a Niko-less house is deafeningly quiet.
We picked up his ashes from the vet. So our man is home. Farewell, good man, farewell.
The vet examined him. His liver was hard and enlarged. It had gotten bad a lot faster than anyone thought it would. He confirmed it was time and we got to stay with Niko as the vet put him to sleep. It was gut-wrenching. I hope he knew how much we cared for him, but it's hard to tell, what with him being a dog and all.
As time passes, the pain recedes. But then something happens and it all floods back. When I'm making lunch and open the can of tuna, no one comes trotting in to get his share. We don't have to leave the door open. We're not stepping over anyone to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night. All these things that we got used to because we had an animal in the house are now simply gone. He was a good dog. He was the perfect dog for this family and I'm glad we found each other.
We're still dealing with the lost. He was my pandemic pal while working from home. In the evenings, I’m no longer dictated to by Niko. I consider the money we'll now save; medication, food, shots, grooming. But I miss him. I miss the walks. The playfulness. His attention. Coming home to a Niko-less house is deafeningly quiet.
We picked up his ashes from the vet. So our man is home. Farewell, good man, farewell.
