Living

Chart: American Lyme Disease Foundation, Inc.

I have been dealing with ticks since childhood.  We spent our summers as children on a lake in Maine, surrounded by 200 acres of woodland.  My father had cut trails throughout the acreage and we were always hiking in the woods.  Ticks were ever present, but back in the ’50’s, ’60’s, and 70’s, ticks were considered a nuisance – not a threat.

Fast forward to present day, living with dogs, ticks are always on my mind – and now the threat, Lyme disease.  My English Setters James and his late sister Julia both came down with Lyme disease at the age of six.  The symptoms:  severe lameness.  I started to notice that both James and Julia were spending their days lying on their dog beds, and would struggle to get up.  They would take a few steps, then collapse.  This was serious, and they were fairly young, healthy dogs.  A blood test administered by the vet revealed that they both had Lyme disease.  The treatment was a four-week course of Doxycycline.  Once on the medication, their symptoms started to diminish and soon disappeared.  That was in 2006.  At the time, I was applying Advantix to all our dogs once monthly from April to November.  Clearly, James and Julia had been bitten by a tick at some point.

The vet suggested that I apply Advantix year round.  He cited that winters here in western Massachusetts are not severe enough anymore to kill off ticks and there existed the possibility of being bitten by a tick during the winter months.  I have followed this routine for the past seven years now without incident.  All the dogs are checked for Lyme each spring and come up negative.

I have always been cognizant of the threat of Lyme disease to humans, as well.    I love to garden and walk in the woods.  Both infested by ticks in our area.  Therefore, I approach each wearing my suit of armor:  high socks, long pants (tucked in), turtleneck (up to my chin), and sweatshirt.  I roast in this outfit, but want to be protected.  NO, NOT.  The ticks have found their way through and hours later, I have found ticks imbedded on my body while showering!

Five weeks ago, I fell ill.  It was a strange kind of illness and came out of nowhere.  Symptoms:  body ache, high fever, chills, lethargy, dizziness, headache, and absolutely no appetite.  I couldn’t eat a thing.  Worried about dehydration, I forced myself to drink glass after glass of water.  I couldn’t get myself to drink any other liquid.  After a week of this, with no change, I headed to the doctor.  Diagnosis:  Lyme disease!  The treatment was the same as that for the dogs – four weeks of Doxycycline.  Once on the medication, all symptoms subsided except that extreme fatigue.  My appetite was still poor, but I forced down some food.  After two weeks on the meds, I attempted a planned hiking trip to Acadia, New Brunswick, CA, and Nova Scotia.  Not a good idea…  I simply had no energy.  After two days in Acadia, one day in New Brunswick at the Hopewell Rocks, we were heading back home, straight down (12 hrs) and I was back at my doctor’s the next day.

Bottom line:  If you have Lyme disease, you are sick, and rest is required until you have recovered.  I’ve now been on bed rest since my return.  My medication regime will be completed next Thursday, and my doctor has okayed my week in Maine at a lake, doing some kayaking.  I’ll take it!  Lyme disease is a serious matter – and one I’m not sure how to avoid.

photo: dreamstime.com

I don’t need to look at a clock or glance at my computer to tell what time it is.  The dogs have their own internal clocks.  Five o’clock is their dinnertime.  If I’m still at my computer working, all three of them fidget around me until I take notice.  There’s no point in ignoring them.  They keep at it until I stop.  My sweet boy James is the most aggressive.  He wants his food!  He sits next to me and keeps nudging my arm.  If he could talk, he’d be saying, Put aside your work now.  It’s time for dinner.  

Once their meal is over – which takes no more than five minutes, the wildlife show in the side yard begins.  From 5:00-8:00 p.m, we have two brown bunnies that come to the yard each night to graze.  This nightly ritual has happened at this time for the past several summers.  But, the bunnies of past summers have grazed on my precious flower beds, making them unwanted visitors in my mind.  Not this year’s bunnies.  They seem very happy to graze on our clover infested lawn.  I’m perfectly fine with that.

Photo: National Geographic

The dogs set themselves up on the porch bench, looking out on the side lawn.  In true English Setter form, they sit ever so quietly, silently watching as the two visiting bunnies work their way around the yard.  Last night was different, however.  All three dogs started to bark wildly.  How odd, I thought, as I headed to the porch.  I wondered what it was that the bunnies were doing to cause such raucous behavior in the dogs.  I looked for the two small bunnies in the yard, but neither was to be found.  Then, I looked farther out toward the hillside garden.  Wow, I thought, that’s a huge bunny.  As I stood staring, and the dogs continued to bark, what I thought was a huge bunny started moving  around along the edge of the garden.  That huge form isn’t in the shape of a bunny, I realized.  No, it had a long tail, then quills became visible.  A Porcupine!  The wildlife scene had changed.  Guess the bunnies know to stay away when a Porcupine is on the prowl, and the dogs see this visitor as a foe.

The dogs had to be brought inside to settle down.  I watched as the poking creature slowly meandered up through the hillside garden and off into the woods beyond.  I can only hope that he doesn’t make his way into the dogs’ fenced-in back area.  I’d like to spare them the agony of being quilled.  Hope Porcupines don’t become part of our nightly wildlife show!

photo: from internet images

Poison Ivy:  Can dogs get it and break out in an angry, itchy red rash that can turn blistery with an acute case?  No, thankfully, dogs don’t get this dreaded summertime curse.  Yes, I call it a curse because I have been plagued by Poison Ivy since childhood.  I am always on the lookout for those pointy, shiny green leaves.  There are many look-alikes, but someone like me knows only too well what vine-like plants are and are not Poison Ivy.  Here, on the Farm, Poison Ivy is everywhere.  I’ve learned to avoid it as I did as a child when playing in the field behind our house.

So, dogs don’t get Poison Ivy, but people can get Poison Ivy from dogs.  The dog can carry the oil of the Poison Ivy leaf on his fur. When a person pets the dog’s fur, she can get the rash from the oil she has touched on the dog’s fur.  I learned this several years ago when I broke out in an acute case of blistery poison ivy on my legs.  I hadn’t been anywhere near any Poison Ivy, but the dogs’ favorite hunting hill grows a healthy crop of the stuff.  It flourishes on that wooded hill.  You would think I was fertilizing it.  Covered in Poison Ivy over my entire legs, I observed one of my dogs actually lying down in the shiny leaves on the hillside.  Evidently, a very cool, shady spot!

This was a dilemma.  What to do?  I couldn’t prevent the dogs from hanging out on their hunting hill.  Seeking a solution, I spoke with the man who cuts our lawn.  No, he said,  you can’t cut it down.  The person doing the cutting would surely come down with a severe case of poison ivy.  No, he said, you can’t burn it.  You can get Poison Ivy from the fumes.  What then? I asked.  His solution was to use a highly diluted Poison Ivy killer.  I resisted this solution.  I couldn’t, just couldn’t, use any type of poison where my dogs tread.  He assured me that it is used all the time and is perfectly safe around children and dogs.  Still I resisted.

The following summer, I changed my tune.  I spend a lot of time training, bathing, and grooming my dogs.  Thus, I’m handling their fur a lot.  Once again, I broke out in an acute case of unsightly, blistering Poison Ivy on the back of my legs.  This occurred just a few weeks before my daughter’s wedding!  Mind you, when the blisters heal, I’m left with scars that eventually fade over time.  This was enough!  I gave the lawn man the okay to go ahead with the Poison Ivy killer.  It killed off the plants over a period of several weeks.  But, what I wasn’t expecting was the plants growing back the following summer.  The crop seemed even more vigorous!  Not a permanent solution.

A forester friend gave me my solution!  This woman spends all day in the woods, and she, too, is plagued by acute cases of Poison Ivy that have hospitalized her.  She told me about a product called Tecnu.  It’s actually a wash.  After being exposed, you’re supposed to wash the exposed areas of skin with the Tecnu wash.  Her tip, however, was to apply the oily substance as a preventative.  She buys it in gallons and applies a thin coating before going to work each day.  I have followed suit.  I cover my arms and legs with Tecnu as a preventative.  If I feel a spot of the rash ready to erupt on my neck, or face, or other area I didn’t cover, I quickly apply it there and keep doing so each day.

Since following this regime, I have avoided acute cases of blistery Poison Ivy.  The dogs continue to lounge wherever they like on their hunting hill, and for me – so far so good.  Now, I’m not endorsing the use of this product for others in any way but as directed.  I’m sure using it as a wash immediately after exposure, as directed, would be highly effective for most people.  I’m an acute Poison Ivy sufferer, I’ll do the extreme!

Fireworks are festive and great fun to watch.  When we had our summer place in Maine, we would sit on the beach and watch the colorful display in the night sky.  For dogs, however, the noise and vibration produced by fireworks can be terrifying.  Such is the case for my English Setter James.  He trembles and pants, and climbs up on my lap.  If the noise persists for an extended period of time, I lead him to his crate, his security den.  There he feels save.  I turn off the lights and he rolls himself up in a tight ball until it’s over.

Fireworks seem to start up several days before the holiday and continue on for several days after.  Again, at the lake, this spread out the nightly fun for about a week – and, too, the terror for the dogs.  We always had at least one dog in our pack through the years with this phobia.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t end with the fireworks.  Thunderstorms, the bane of summertime in New England, have the same effect on the dogs.  Lately, we’ve had some lengthy thunderstorms, hitting hard.  James knows when a storm is coming long before it actually manifests itself.  When I see him start to quiver, I know what’s on the way.  It usually happens around the dogs’ 5:00 dinnertime, so I quickly get the pack fed.  If not, James, who normally LOVES his food, refuses to eat.  With the addition of heat and humidity, summer can be tough on dogs, all the way around.   We humans may love all that summertime has to offer, but our dogs require special consideration and treatment, which is often opposite of what people are doing.

I always say:  the job of a therapy dog begins in the home.  My three therapy dogs certainly proved that true over the past ten days as I lay on the couch resting my aching back.  All three of my sweet, comforting in-home therapy dogs lay by my side the entire time.   It all started with my hand:

I had spent the past month recovering from surgery on my left hand.  I needed to strictly limit my use of the hand (I’m left-handed!), which meant, in particular, things like gardening.  That would definitely be in the category of over-use.  I listened to doctor’s orders and followed them closely.  When given, the green light to resume activities (yay! gardening!), I was like a race horse out-of-the-starting-gate.  That Saturday was gorgeous.  It was warm, sunny, and breezy.  It had rained the night before.  The soil was moist and ripe for planting.  My friend and I had been to a new garden center, Walker Farm, in Dummerston, Vermont, where I had purchased three must-have new plants.  I had clearance and up into my Hillside Garden I went.  I dug up huge clumps of perennials (14 in all), these were major extractions, requiring deep digging, then relocation.  I kept going, discounting my aching hand that the doctor told me would hurt (but, that’s okay, it’s healed, he had assured me).  On and on I went.  I was in heaven.  It had been a whole month since I had been out in my beloved gardens.  I was lost in another world.  I emerged six hours later as I suddenly realized that the sun was far in the western sky.  I started the sprinkler system, gathered my tools, and, covered in dirt, I headed inside.  What a great afternoon it had been.  I fed the dogs, and while they ate, I showered and started to prepare dinner.  Exhausted, I headed to bed right after dinner.

The next morning it hit:  OH MY ACHING BACK!!!  I couldn’t stand upright.  I was in agony.  Nothing helped.  Sitting was the worst position.  This made it impossible to be on the computer for more than 5 minutes.  The only thing I could do was lie flat.  So, on the couch I lay surrounded by my therapy dogs.  James lay along side me on the couch, Lily lay on the floor against the couch.  She actually wanted to come up on the couch, too.  But, she wanted to lie on top of me – a bit too much weight to hold for my back.  Little Annie took her favorite pose on the footstool that was set against the couch.  These were their posts, day in and day out.  They took breaks now and then, but resumed positions immediately.

I’m now fine.  Yay!  But, am I heading to the garden?  Not yet.   And, never again for hours on end.  Big lesson learned:  everything in moderation.

Bird dog Annie post robin adventure. She’s one happy dog!

Bird dog Annie was a very happy dog today.  Her early morning walk was shared with two robins.  I couldn’t believe it.  The two birds walked side-by-side in the road about 12 feet in front of Annie and me.  This dog loves birdwatching.  She and her pal Lily sit atop our wooded hillside out back for hours listening to and watching for birds of all varieties, from tiny sparrows to huge wild turkeys.  They can be up there for hours at a time.

Today’s walk really was amazing.  I held my breath as bird dog Annie slowly, ever-so-slowly crept along.  One foot was placed in front of another.  Not a sound was made.  I imagine she was thinking, I wish I weren’t stuck with this human at my side, not adept at my dog watching skills.  I really tried to make myself invisible and as quiet as possible.  I was certain, though, any minute the two birds would fly off.  On they went, keeping pace – always 12 feet in front.  Every-so-often, they would stop to peck at some gravel in the road.  Bird dog Annie sensed when to hold back, when to move forward.  These birds stuck with us.  It was early morning, we had the road to ourselves, just the two robins, Annie, and – darn – the human.  I loved watching this performance, but did, in fact, feel a bit like a peeping-tom.

The pair flew off just before we hit the end point of our walk – where we make our turn to head back home.  At that point, I was disappointed that they didn’t stay with us all the way.  Bird dog Annie was nonplussed by their departure.  She quickened her pace and broke into her regular walking mode.  I imagine her sharing this robin adventure with her pal Lily upon returning home.

I hope everyone here in western Massachusetts had time to spend a few hours outside today.  I spent the morning working on my book.  Early afternoon, I accompanied Lily to Westhampton Elementary School for her Reading Buddy time with first and second grade.  That was it.  Work done.  The dogs and I hit the outdoors.

Nothing is more relaxing to me than getting completely absorbed in my gardening.  I call it my form of meditation.  Time eludes me as I weed, cultivate, and ponder the re-arrangement of my ever-growing gardens and plant varieties.  And, yes, I talk to the plants and tell them that they we be better over here, or over there.  It never fails.  Gardens keep increasing.  Just one more bearded iris is added to my collection.  If the plant will work in my garden, and it’s an unusual species, I simply can’t resist adding it to my floral display.  Perennials only.  Mostly those that blow from early summer through frost.  I strive for a continuous array of blooms from May through October.

While I meditated in the garden, the dogs were enjoying the day as much as I was.  Annie and Lily were absorbed in their hunting on the wooded hillside out back.  Their brand of meditation.  James, my special pal, assisted me in the garden.  I wish every day were like today.  It seems when I was a child, every day was full of sunshine and blue sky.

Whew!  The air has changed.  The dogs felt it immediately (well, so did I).  I immediately seized this opportunity to take James for a long early morning stroll.  At 12 1/2 years of age, James is termed a senior dog.  Heat and humidity, the kind we had all last week is especially hard on an aging dog, as it is on an elderly person.  I had to stop walking James all together last week.  Even taking him out really early in the morning for a very short walk was too much.

James loves his walks and wants to go – always.  But, desire and physical ability don’t match up in the kind of heat wave we’ve been experiencing.  James had a hard time breathing.  His steps would falter.  It became clear that this senior dog was better off waiting out the heat wave from inside the cool house, lying flat on the slate floor.

This morning was perfect.  A robin’s-egg-blue sky, brilliant sunshine, a gentle breeze, and 58 degrees with relatively little humidity, made for perfect walking conditions.  This morning’s walk time was dedicated completely to my boy James.  The girls (Annie and Lily), ages 6 and 4, are capable of handling harsher conditions.  Who knows how long perfect weather will last.

James bounced to his feet when his purple lead was fetched from the coatroom.  He literally galloped to the front door and off we went.  James loves to stroll.  He takes in everything around him.  He sniffs the ground, laden with the scents of animals scampering about in the night.  He slowly sidles down to the bank of a babbling stream to his dabble his paw in the cool water.  He saunters down to the large barn part-way down the run where he stands patiently looking for the 10 barn cats that hang out in the tall grass and over on a neighbor’s porch where food and water have been set out.  He never seems quite satisfied until he has spied all 10 of these elusive felines.

Today, James and I took the gravel road that leads out into the farmers large pasture.  Slowly, we both walked, taking in the beauty of the hayfield aglow with golden wildflowers.  In the heat of the summer, this board open field would be impossibly hot to view.  James stopped by the barbed wire fence to communicate with the large momma steer and her two youngsters, one brown and white, the other brownish-black. The trio stood up against their fencing staring out at James.  James stood fascinated, tail wagging slowly back-and-forth.  When I tugged at James’ lead, indicating time to head back, he kept tugging me in the opposite direction not wanting to leave the bucolic scene behind.  Tomorrow, boy, I told him.  They say another nice day tomorrow.  And, it’s all for you.  My senior dog always gets extra special treatment.

Annie keeping cool on the slate floor. From the screened-in porch, she can view the entire side yard. That girl is always hunting for birds.

Most of us love summertime, people and dogs alike.  We wait, counting the days ’til cold, snowy winter days end and the warmth of spring and summer days come our way.  As great as it is to have mother nature offer up a full display of lush greenery and colorful flowers, summertime in New England can hit hard in the form of a HEATWAVE.  Two weeks ago, I was pulling my winter jacket out of storage and waiting until 9:00 a.m. for the temperature to rise into the 40’s to take the dogs out for morning walks.  Now, I leave the house at 6:00 a.m. dressed in shorts and a t-shirt to walk the dogs before the pavement gets too hot for them to walk on.

For the past week, temperatures have been in the 90’s and humidity has been ultra high.  Normally, the dogs love to spend the morning outside on the hill doing their hunting if I’m working from home.  This week, they all headed out the door right after breakfast, made a broad sweep around the perimeter of the hayfield, and headed back to the door to come back inside.  Dogs are smart about handling themselves.  They’ve ventured out into the oppressive heat and humidity only when necessary.  All three dogs have spent their days hanging out on our screened-in porch and family room.  Both have slate-covered floors providing the coolest spots inside the house and out of the sun.

photo: wikipedia

Early this morning, Annie came face-to-face with a snake in the corner of the dog pen.  She wouldn’t leave the corner.  She kept lunging into something, then backing up quickly.  Even when called in for breakfast, she wouldn’t leave it.  I went over to check it out – and there it was.

It’s not at all uncommon to have garter snakes around the farm.  They love to hang out under the stone steps and come out to bask in the sun.  This snake was very different.  Unknown to me.  It wasn’t retreating and quickly slivering off, as the garter snakes do.  It was standing in attack.  I was grateful it was Annie that found it.  She kept backing away as it lunged toward her.  Lily would not have backed away.  She would have grabbed that thing in her mouth and surely been biten.  Last summer, she rapidly lunged at a garter sunning itself on the stone step.  Off she ran up onto the hill, the 2 foot snake dangling from her mouth.

After safely removing the snake from the yard, I ran inside and googled the description.  A wikipedia write-up with image seemed to indicate our invader was an eastern milk snake.  Bites – yes.  Venimous – no.  I am relieved, certain there are others.  We do have a healthy share of snakes around here.  The write-up said milk snakes eat rodents, slugs, and other pests.  Sounds like a good one to have around.  I hope so! This was a baby, about a foot long.  The adults can grow to 2-3 feet in length.  Might be hard for me to remove an adult from the pen!