How far will you go?

This question popped up quite often recently. It's a question I have been asked a lot lately by friends, people I know, people on facebook, the vet. How far will you go? When do you stop?

Gaia, my beautiful old Scooby-lady, must be approximately 14 to 15 years old by now. When I adopted her she was already nearly blind and was estimated to be some 8 to 12 years old. To many people, adopting an elderly dog and blind at that would be a bridge too far already. So much fuss, they'd say. Have to keep an eye on her all the time. Well actually it wasn't that bad. Sometimes we joke that Gaia has sonar ears (they are the right size anyway) because even in a forest she'd never ventured before, she didn't run into a tree but trotted along with the others, no problems. At first when I got her she made attempts to duck underneath the table legs (apparently she saw only the top half of them) and sometimes she'd trip on a big rock or a shallow pit in the ground, but we have found ways to get around that as well. On familiar spots I stand over nasty rocks and silly pits so she can safely walk around me. When we spot her heading for a steep slope we whistle and she's navigating back to us. In the house we keep all the furniture on the same spot, because for a blind dog it's simply not doable to navigate around the house when the owner keeps rearranging the furniture every three months... and so she can find her way without problems.

Gaia is housebroken, but every now and then she has a little slip-up. Always in front of the back door or right in front of the living room gate, those kind of 'uh-oh just didn't make it' kind of things. Some very clever soul invented a great tool to deal with that: a bucket and a mop. Some hot water, some detergent and we're done. To some people, that would be a bridge too far.

Some weeks ago things got a little more complicated. The spondylosis in her neck- and shoulders as well as the arthrosis became worse, causing her to gradually lose controll over her legs. Walking was more and more of an effort to her, even the short trip to the field across the road was too much for her. So initially I started doing short rounds just with Gaia,  because Gaia still really really wanted to go on a walk.

Then her legs got even weaker, she started to fall over and her right side was like jello, all wobbly. For a moment it looked as if she'd actually given up herself. Among ourselves us humans talked about 'making a tough decision'.

The vet came to my house, I wanted to know what options we had. Gaia kept trying to come along when I took the other dogs for a walk, stumbling and falling, take me with you, take me with you! Dentastix were snatched from my hand by a nearly toothless old mouth, so were the offered dog biscuits. Big portions of carnibest, chicken with carrots and macaroni, soaked kibble and cheese were slobbered and finished with gusto by a grey snout. What is this, you wanted to end my life??

In the mean time I found an old sixties pram on Marktplaats that was sturdy enough to carry a 20 kilo old shepherd, so she could still come along with the others for a walk. She visibly enjoys this pram, this is really something, such a luxury! An old grey snout rests on the bonnet that is folded down, nose in the wind busy doing sniffings and the sonar ears are tuning in all directions not to miss out on anything.  I can lift her out so she can stroll around and have a sniff at the field. When she's done she sits next to the pram and looks at me. Without a problem she allows herself to be lifted back in the pram. With a satisfied sigh she reclines and puts her chin on the hood. Done.

"How far will you go?" The vet has a serious expression to go with that question. Gaia just let her know she is still in charge of guarding the house by making a lot of yapping noises at the doorbell. I tell her what we had talked over: as long as Gaia still feels like it, we are doing what it takes. The vet administers two shots; one anabolicum to stimulate Gaia's muscles and a corticosone shot to fight the inflammation in her joints. After a couple of days I could put her on norocarp as a painkiler. At the pet shop I got a special harness with neoprene to give extra support at the chest, so I could literally prop her up when her legs are weak.

That same night Gaia runs out in the back yard with such speed I have to let go of her harness. To my relief she is even squatting for a number two. Over the next days she is back eating while standing on her four legs, next to Sid, from the special food standards. In the mornings she's dashing out of the back door with the rest. She is walking to and fro and I hardly have to support her. Even when the corticosones have worn off, she is still walking by herself and she is still very active for her age.

So she'll be around for a while. Even on our holiday. Pram included. Some will scratch their heads now, going on a holiday with a dog that age, and taking that big pram, and those other dogs in the mix... How far will you go?

Leaving Gaia at home is not an option. Without her pack and us, she'd wither within days. Her heart is still strong, the vet says. She's a mix of mixes. A dash of shepherd, a dash of mastin, and who knows what else is in her pedigree because where do those funny tiger stripes on her back legs come from? She still feels like life is good. She's at my feet as I type but when I get up she's trailing after me. Slightly wobbly and not all stable, but yet. What stamina she has.

It's exactly this kind of stamina my dogs show that makes me go for my dogs for 200%. But some people won't go far at all. Some people stop at the first hurdle. They stop when the dog isn't housebroken fast enough. They stop when their adolescent children refuse to do their part of the care. Or worse, they stop when their partner just doesn't feel like caring for the family dog. I find that very, very sad. And weak. It becomes even more painful when it's about a dog with a handicap, like Gaia, or a dog that is very frightened. To be stuck with a partner who isn't willing to do a thing to make life better for that animal and help him or her to get over this fear, that would be non-negotiable to me.

I thank the gods that I have a partner who cares and thinks and accepts me ánd my dogs. Who doesn't mind cleaning up after my dogs every now and then, who comforts them when one of them is feeling sick, who helps supporting Gaia when she has an off day. If he would decline that, he would no longer be my partner. I am an animal person, he met me when I had four dogs and two cats, and together we have adopted two young Big Friendly Giants at Scooby. We felt this as a big commitment in our relationship, as if we had just adopted two children.

Not a single hair on my head would contemplate - not even for a second- to get rid of one of our dogs. The only plausible ground would be if one of the dogs would have serious problems with the other dogs. Never, ever if the dog had problems with my partner and he would refuse to help. In that case I would run an ad myself: 'free to good home: 46 year old male, very social, good with other people and kids, not good with dogs'.

 Luka nods in approval. She knows. Midas must have told her about that day the muvva told a possible boyfriend to hit the road when he didn't want her dog to come along to town. He wised up and the dog came along, but needless to say the relationship didn't last. And right so. My dogs are a part of me, they belong to me. I have chosen for them to be in my life, accepting the limitations that came with that choice. Contrary to the men in my life my dogs have always shown me unconditional love. And they have never left me. (Well, let me rephrase that, almost never, right Guido and Gaia and your adventure at the pig farm behind Scooby... say no more, say. no. more...). They really are as the proverb goes; loyal as a dog.

Parafrasing Victoria Stilwell: it's me AND the dogs. Take it or leave it ;)