looking ahead for the new year.

Welcome to 2013, friends! I hope you celebrated in style! True to form, I stayed in and watched episodes of HIMYM before falling asleep early - which, in all honesty was absolutely perfect and just what I needed! Today, however, was filled with fun and friends and (lots of) food, so Claire and I both did our fair share of celebrating!

I've been thinking lately about this blog and how much it has changed over the past few years. When I started out, I really had absolutely no idea of what I was doing. Some days I still feel that way, actually. For awhile, I put a lot of time into promoting and giveaways and product reviews and advertising and blah blah blah, but all that brought was a great deal of frustration. Thanks to a good friend, I remembered why I started this blog in the first place: to create a journal of my life with Claire. I want to be able to look back some day and remember all of the fun we've had, all the lessons I've learned through her, and especially all of the love and laughter she's brought to my life. There is enough seriousness in life, and this blog, for the most part, allows me to document stories that counteract that.

That being said, my blogging goals for 2013 definitely include staying true to my original purpose. Others are:
-- less Instagram pics and more professional photos of Claire and friends
-- go to this year's BarkWorld conference with Katie, Neely, Lauren&Paige, Lauren and Joey, and Blake
-- have more people write guest posts and/or start a series
-- create a new design
-- if there is a conflict with blogging time and quality time (with Claire, with friends, with Claire AND friends), let quality time win every time.

What are some of your goals for 2013, related to blogging or otherwise?

guest blogger: amy and kingsley.

If you read this blog on a regular basis, then you already know Kingsley who belongs to one of my dearest friends, Amy. They have had a rough year, as 2-year-old Kingsley was diagnosed with Wobbler's Disease. I asked Amy if she'd mind sharing a little about their journey together, which completely displays true love and companionship at its best. So, grab the tissues, curl up with your pup, and settle in for this heartwarming story.

Some people never plan on getting a dog but end up with one when a stray shows up randomly one afternoon. Or maybe they didn't expect to see that cute box of puppies when they headed to the supermarket that day. I, on the other hand, had dreamt of getting a Great Dane for more than ten years. Everyone always asks me "Why would you want such a HUGE dog?" Well, I grew up on a farm. I had horses, cows, pigs... just like Old MacDonald. I love animals and have always been a "dog person." I was always intrigued when I saw a Dane. It was something about their gigantic, regal, yet clumsy stature that pulled me in. I researched the breed a good bit and only became more enamored. You'll find most anywhere that they are unequivocally referred to as "Gentle Giants." With that moniker, you'll often find images of them with tiny toddlers hugging their necks, which seems ironic given the notion that the bigger the dog, the more they tend to scare people. There's something that speaks to my soul about an animal that embodies such capable power and strength, yet chooses not to wield it.

I finally got to a place in my life where I decided I was ready. It took me a few years to convince myself I could handle it and afford it, but the time came when it was a "now or never" moment. In all my research, I found a  great breeder just west of Nashville at the time. Reading up on Danes you'll discover purebreds have the potential for quite a few health problems mainly due to their size. With the anticipation of being a first time Dane owner and wanting to ease into it, I decided getting a pup from good stock would help ward off some of the genetic issues and give me a better shot at a prolonged lifespan, since the average textbook lifespan of a Dane is only 7 years. Little did I know that my breeder had show stock and had some of the best Danes around. I wasn't completely ready for the price tag of such a pedigree, but I was committed and fortunately, even though I wasn't going to show, they allowed me to get a puppy.

"Sir Kingsley" (as he's AKC registered) was born on December 4, 2010. The breeder called and let me know I could come out and take a look when the pups were a couple weeks old. When I got to the nursery I found four little fur balls huddled together near a heating lamp.

The breeder picked Kingsley up and handed him to me. It was love at first sight. I held him and he snuggled close up into my neck. I was elated! The worst part was having to leave him since I couldn't bring him home until he was seven weeks old - which is prime attachment time. Seven weeks couldn't pass fast enough. However, I had plenty to do to get the house ready for a baby puppy. You quickly learn that the size "XL" sometimes isn't big enough and you hope the pet supplier carries "giant" sized items. His crate was a nightmare trying to put together. I bought one that ultimately fit a full-size Dane, but you also buy this divider that you use to let your puppy grow into it. The crate is slightly smaller than a MINI-COOPER, a beast to maneuver, and took a community effort to put together. I was ready!

Take Home Day came and I was so excited and nervous! I went with a very close friend to pick him up. They drove, I held him. It was late January and it was cold, so I zipped him up inside my jacket and he couldn't bury his head in my neck deep enough. He eventually stopped wiggling and fell asleep. When we got home, I immediately took him to a grassy area to do some business to try the potty training bit right away, which was pretty successful. We had friends come visit and he instinctively hid behind my legs when he was unsure. After having him only a few hours, he already seemed to be attaching to me.

Kingsley grew like a weed the first year. I could literally leave for work in the morning, come home in the evening and see that he had grown. He went from being born to weighing 125 lbs in one year. We became very attached to each other. As soon as he was old enough and had his shots, we went through two levels of obedience training, took hikes together and went to the dog park. It was important for me to socialize Kingsley early. When he was a puppy everyone would comment on how big his feet were. As he grew, his feet did too. To this day, he still gets comments on not only his size (often called a "horse"), but the size of his feet.

At the dog park Kingsley met LOTS of dogs and owners. Some welcomed him warmly, some didn't. As he grew and some other dogs were intimidated by his size, he would get picked on, and he would take it. As a mom, you want everyone (including other dogs) to like your dog. Your dog is your child. You feel responsible. Yet, I was intrigued to see the development of his personality and that witness that gentle strength that made me fall in love with the breed in the first place. The best thing Kingsley found at the dog park was his girlfriend, the one and only Claire Baby Butterworth. He's been taken with her from the beginning.  Claire and her mom are the warm welcoming wagon of the dog park. Sweetly, Kingsley would follow Claire's lead and pretty much do anything she did. Claire taught him how to dig and crawl under the park benches. Most of all he learned the art of chasing and racing with her. While Kingsley is not incredibly fast compared to some breeds, watching him run is a sight to behold and always left me in awe. His big, beautiful strides were so amazing to watch as he'd thunder past you at a full gallop with his giant paws. He was a pretty active Dane growing up and he loved to play.

About a year ago when Kingsley was just about to turn two, while at a routine visit to the dog park I noticed Kingsley trying to run to keep up with the pack. He couldn't seem to get coordinated with his front half and his back half. Inevitably, he tripped and fell. He scared himself and wobbled to get back up, quickly marking the end of our play time for that day. The first time it happened, I thought he just tripped. I took him to the park again a little while later, but this time when he fell in the pack he managed to get flipped on his back and it scared both of us. Thankfully he wasn't injured, but he still struggled to get back up. We immediately went home. While driving home I recollected some times when I noticed some weakness in his back end, and that he splayed his back legs when he'd walk/run. I decided it was time to check in with the vet. It took a couple vet visits and a lot of explaining, but they surmised that he might have Wobbler's Disease and said they needed to send me to a specialist to know for sure. 

We went to a few specialist appointments. They did x-rays and an exam and diagnosed him with Wobblers. For those of you unfamiliar with Wobblers, basically Kingsley has a malformed cervical vertebrae that is putting pressure on his spinal cord causing inflammation of the spinal cord and therefore weakness in his body. This is a disease that, over time, can take a toll on a Dane. Immediate treatment consists of steroids and medical management, which includes minimal and light exercise - meaning no dog park, no rough play, no quick jerky head movements (which makes playing tug very difficult and is one of his favorite games), minimal car rides, minimal stairs and other uneven or slippery surfaces. The other not-immediate option is surgery, but the prognosis of surgery is grim at best given that the procedure is difficult, quite invasive, and there is still no guarantee that it will be successful. The specialist didn't recommend the surgery unless his condition was so severe that it prevented him from daily self-care activities such as eating and going to the bathroom. While the specialist explained all this to me, I broke down and sobbed in the exam room. Kingsley was lying on the floor and I laid down with him and buried my head in his cheek and kissed him while my tears soaked into his fur.

I pulled myself together and became determined to take care of him the best I could for the time I'm graciously given with him. I took an inventory of all the things we needed to adjust, and accommodations were made. The steroids definitely helped and I've seen the weakness disappear for the most part. However, the steroids made him gain weight - he's topped out at 180 lbs this year, which isn't good. I don't think I mentioned earlier that the reason Danes don't live longer lifespans is because their hearts can't keep up with their body mass. So weight on a Dane is not a good thing. You want them lean to try and keep the stress of the weight off their heart.

However, I'm happy to report that we're a year in and Kingsley is doing okay. He is on a diet and has already been able to get down to 170 lbs, though I'm hoping he can still lose a bit more. While we miss the dog park terribly, we're thankful for dear friends like Claire who come over to the house to visit and socialize. Kingsley has adapted well and he continues to be such a good boy. He makes the most of his toy box which keeps him occupied for play time. As for me, I try not to take any moment with him for granted and I make a point to try and live in the moment of one day at a time. I love letting him put as much of himself in my lap as possible, cuddling (for the record, he likes to be the baby spoon), playing games in the living room, wrapping him up like a burrito in the bed sheets, and simply just spending time together. 

Looking back, I don't regret a thing - and certainly not my decision to get a Dane. This is the reality and fragility of life. Getting Kingsley was one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life. We're a good pair and we take care of each other - and I pray that we continue to have many good years together in front of us.

guest blogger: whitney and toby.

I realized the other day that I have not had a guest blogger in a very long time, which is just madness! I love guest bloggers and I love guest blogging for other people, and I haven't been doing a very good job at showing it! A few weeks ago, I was talking to my pal Whitney about her dogs, Roxie and Toby (you may remember Toby - he is the puppy who was featured in this post), when she told me a story that I'm sure many of you can identify with if you've ever had a dog during the puppy years. I asked Whit if she would be interested in guest blogging, she said yes, and here we are! So, with that, I give you Whitney's story:

Toby has quickly grown from an 18-pound puppy to a 40-pound dog - and he's only six months old! A lot has happened in the past few months since I rescued him, so I thought this would be a good time to discuss my diligent efforts to raise a well-adjusted and well-behaved pit bull... 

Toby was a fast learner in puppy-training; he had “sit” mastered in mere minutes. However, since the day he was rescued, he has been very unsure and cautious in new situations. I have been working with my dear friend, Courtney, to help Toby gain some confidence by taking him to the dog park and getting him out in public. 

A few weeks ago, I decided to stop by the pet store to replenish his food supply and get him and Roxie new collars. We strolled to the toy aisle looking for something for him to play with that was durable and safe. I finally decided on the Kong Braidz Giraffe. He and Roxie had a grand time playing tug-of-war with it until they discovered there was stuffing in the giraffe’s head. After seeing the stuffing all over the place, I examined it and determined that it was still okay for them to play with. Turns out, I was wrong... 

After a week or so, I noticed that Toby wasn’t interested in eating his dinner. This is extremely odd behavior in a two-dog household. You eat, or the “finders keepers” rule applies. So, being concerned that he might forfeit his meal to Roxie, I coaxed him to finish his dinner. Unfortunately, he spent the night getting sick. When he continued to get sick the next morning, I decided to take him to the vet. After an abdominal exam, invasive temperature taking, and an even more invasive stool collection, Toby was diagnosed with… NOTHING. Thanks, Doc. 

After listening to the sales pitch complete with estimated prices treatment options, I informed the veterinarian that I was not going to assume the worst [“Parvo? Really? You gave him all of those vaccines, remember?”]. Toby ended up getting IV fluids, a shot for nausea, and some antibiotics. Believe me, he was not pleased with any of it. 

When we got home, I informed the dog walker, Heather, of Toby’s condition, and she oh-so-kindly agreed to forgo the walk and just keep an eye on him for the day. I went to work only to receive a text message from Heather saying that she took Toby out to go potty. Apparently he did a #6 [a #2 multiplied by 3]. And God bless the dog walker: she dissected it. And when I asked her to describe it to me via text, she did - without calling me crazy! [I’m a worried mother, what can I say?!] Then she said, “You know, I’m thinking maybe it’s part of the giraffe toy. I just found it and it doesn’t have a head anymore.” 

Just. Great.

Sure enough, that's what it was: a bowel obstruction caused by a stuffed giraffe head. I'm hoping that Toby doesn't have Pica, but I guess he'll have to ingest other items before we can diagnose him with that. [No worries, I don't plan on giving him a chance to get his paws on anything else unless it's edible]. 

To top it off, I received an email yesterday from the vet’s office asking me to fill out a survey about Roxie’s recent vet visit. Which is interesting, since she hasn’t been there in a year. Nice.

I guess it's all part of the fun of raising puppies!

           

 

guest blogger: amy and molly.

Hi everyone! I have something special to share with you all today: this post comes to you from my friend Amy who is writing in honor of her sweet "sister" Molly's 15th birthday. Molly looks like such a doll - and she is wearing her age very well, don't you think? I don't mind admitting my hope that this little writing opportunity will encourage Amy to start blogging again herself! Enjoy!

The adorable Miss Molly!

My name is Amy. I live in CT with my husband and two children. About 4 miles away are my folks and an amazing little toy poodle, Molly. Growing up, we always had a pooch, so I considered myself to always have 2 sisters (one human, one canine). I have more Molly stories than I can count; she is quite the little pup! Molly has touched so many peoples lives in and outside of our family. When Lauren asked for a guest blogger for Life With Claire, I thought it would be a fun opportunity to share a little bit of Molly's story with others.


A friend of mine once told me that humans don't choose their pets, pets choose their humans. That's exactly what happened almost 15 years ago with little Miss Molly.


It was August and after months of mourning the loss of our 19 year old toy poodle, Cissy Bear, I realized that the only way to help heal the sadness and emptiness in my parents lives was to find another pup. I picked up my dad at home and told him we were taking a ride but didn't say where we were going. When we got to the breeders house, I told him why we were there and he reluctantly went into the house with me. Out came 2 little black bouncing fluff balls who were small enough to fit in the palm of our hands. My dad's face lit up when one of them started to snuggle and lick his hands. That was the moment Molly chose her human - my dad.


There was absolutely no way I could predict how much love and happiness a 9 lb pup could bring into our lives. We needed Molly as much as Molly needed a family. Molly's unconditional love has supported our family through times of happiness, adversity, loss of loved ones, and births - and the list goes on.


Molly's going to be 15 on August 27th, which is a pretty big milestone for a pup. Molly's physical health is definitely showing her age. Maybe her eyesight isn't as sharp as it was and she's slowing down and tired more often than before, but there is one thing that hasn't changed and is as lively as ever- the unconditional love she has for us and that we have for her in return.


Happy Birthday Molly! Thank you for choosing us to be in your life!

guest blogger: colleen paige from *dogtime!*

There are some people out there who think that I treat Claire as my child, while others think that I treat her as a dog and just do so in a way that allows her to have a pretty sweet life. I think that I do a good mix of both, and I don't have a problem with that (neither does Claire!). But treating dogs as children is a pretty big topic out there in the dog-lover world, so naturally, the following article caught my eye. I originally read this article on Pet News and Views and had a few laughs while reading it. I just had to get in touch with the wonderful and amazing Colleen Paige from Dogtime and ask for her permission to repost it! Permission was granted, so here you have it! Leave a comment and let me know your thoughts!

When asked if I “own” a dog, I frequently find myself replying, “Yes, I have a dog.” But even then the word “have” implies that your dog is an object or possession. “I have a dog” makes it sound like he’s lodged in your side like a third arm or something. I could say that I “live with” a dog or that I “coexist” with a dog, but people might need more of an explanation. Often, I delight in saying that I gave spiritual birth to a second child who just happens to be a dog.

Parenting a Dog

As with all children, no matter how good a parent you are, your little ones are bound to act up at the most inopportune times and places. Part of being a good dog mom is not to sweat it if your pooch doesn’t behave as Miss Manners at the dog park. The only people who will go home gossiping about your little lady in all likelihood have nothing better to do. Just let go of it. Kids are kids, even if they are dogs.

Any parent who has more than one child will tell you that he or she is much more relaxed now, having learned from the first child that it’s not necessary to hide in the baby aisle the entire time Junior is having a tantrum. Children teach us patience—perhaps that’s the miracle of tantrums, shedding, and destroyed furniture.

Levity Goes a Long Way

When it comes to excuses for my dog’s behavior (she’s not perfect, nor am I), I try to use humor to diffuse any stress she may cause me or others. Very casually I’ll tell people she is my second child, who, due to some bad genes somewhere in my family, was born with excessive hair growth and bad teeth. Then I’ll finish with an appropriate apology for the drool on their cherished accessory. 

As a behaviorist, I am supposed to clarify that “dogs are not people.” But they do seem to know how to push our buttons to get attention. They also seem to know just what kind of facial expression to throw at us when hoping for the rest of our ice cream or French fries. (Fortunately for me and my dog, I have cut out most fat from my diet.) And, like the husband you forget needs some mothering too, dogs have no idea that something as natural as shedding can make you speak in tongues from time to time.

There are so many similarities between dogs and children. My child has been known to beg for food on more than one occasion, and so has my dog. My child whines at me to take him to the park; throws up in the car; breaks toys, glasses, and collectibles—and so does his sister, my dog.

It really is OK to treat your dog like your child, as long as you don’t get the two and their unique needs mixed up. Express your animal love freely, but remember: Robby’s toothbrush is the blue one with the rocket, Spot’s is the red one with the bone, and your husband’s is the one that you’re often tempted to clean the tile with when he’s in the doghouse.

guest blogger: jana from *dawg business!*

Hello all! I am feeling extremely guilty that I have not been able to blog as much lately due to being laptopless (not to be confused with topless - which I am not). While I impatiently await a new laptop, I thought this would be a great time to introduce you to Miss Jana from Dawg Business - I follow her blog and have learned quite a bit about dogs and dog life and dog health. I asked her to share a little bit about her sweet girl, Jasmine. I'm sure many of you will be able to relate to the following story! Enjoy!
~ Love, Lauren (and Claire!)

Hubby always says that Jasmine is an extremely special dog because she trained a woman. And did she ever! She changed me from a person who thought that dogs were cool — in somebody else's house — to a dog mama. And she did it in such a way that I didn't even know what hit me!

That is not the only thing that makes her special. She is an extremely smart girl. It is though her ability to mold her world to her liking and her high intelligence might be connected. When she first came into our home, she checked the whole place out and then found a place to curl up for a nap. "I get my own house and my own bipeds that I don't have to share with anybody? Cool! I can work with this!" No crying, no stressing over being gone from her mother and her siblings. It was like the big adventurers from the old days: she found this land and claimed it her own.

I diligently started working with her on potty training. The second day she went straight to the door and whined. Hubby and I looked at each other — no, that can't be! But figuring that it might be good to teach her that whining at the door will get her out in the yard, we let her out. And then she did it again. Long story short, Jasmine was fully potty-trained in a week, I kid you not! However, she quickly learned that this kind of communication could be used for purposes other than going to the bathroom.

For instance... When Jasmine chews on marrow bones, she will start whining to let me know that she needs help getting out the marrow from the middle. One day I was busy on my computer, so when Jasmine gave her little whine, I didn't come to her rescue right away. After a few minutes, I could hear her over by the door asking to go out. I stopped what I was doing and went to let her out, but when I opened the door, she just sat there. I closed the door again and she walked over to her bone and looked at me. "Well, now, that you're off that chair, are you gonna help me with that bone?"

Though Jasmine can often fool anybody she wants, fooling her is an impossible task. She knows which days are work days and which days are fun days. It should seem clear how she does that, as each person has their own routine. On a work day, Jasmine goes on a morning patrol around the block, then she gets her breakfast, and then Hubby takes a shower and goes to work. On a fun day, there is no patrol, no breakfast, and no shower; Hubby packs breakfast into a lunch box, and they go off to the farm. It seems simple to distinguish between the two routines, right? Except every once in a while, Hubby needs to do something that prevents him from taking the Jasmine. It hurts her feelings if she gets left behind, so we tried to fool her: we carefully followed the same routine that we would on a normal work day. But it doesn't matter how hard we try, she just knows the difference! I swear she's reading Hubby's mind and knows exactly where he's planning on going! She has even tried to control the situation a few times by refusing to have her breakfast! "If I don't have breakfast now, we'll certainly go to the farm!" In a way, Jasmine's efforts work. She makes Hubby feel so bad for not taking her with him that he tries his hardest to bring her whenever he can. And when he can't help it, he quickly comes up with a way to make it up to her.

So that's Jasmine for you: she likes to make sure she gets her own way and ensures that the world revolves around her. We do have an excuse for spoiling her though: she's been through a lot. Two near death experiences, two abdominal surgeries, bilateral knee surgery, stem cell treatment, a number of other surgeries... She did pull through though and she is still standing! After we almost lost her twice though, every day that she is with us is a blessing. We've got to give her all we can! She is extremely smart and has a heart of gold. She is the inspiration behind my blogging.

living tall.

Just saying a quick hello to y'all (please notice my attempt at assimilating into the southern culture). I'm actually hanging out over here today at my friend Maggy's blog, Living Tall. For those of you who follow my blog, you will recognize the story that Maggy requested I share. For those of you who are newcomers to my blog, I encourage you to go back to my very first post and keep on reading until you catch up! :) Have a great weekend, everybody! You'll hear from me and Claire again before next week begins!