Friday, June 30, 2006, 20:19
Momma!
"Look," Randy said. "It's twin fawns."
We were sitting in the yard after supper Thursday evening. It was a beautiful night -- cool, clear, with a hint of haze around a sun that was almost ready to set.
The fawns ran across our hayfield, across the neighbor's field and into the woods. Their tails were flagged, and they were running at top speed.
"Those must be the ones I saw a few weeks ago with their mother," I said. "She had to stop to let them catch up and to catch their breath. Boy, they sure are a lot bigger now."
"I wonder where their mother is," Randy said. "And I wonder what spooked them?"
A minute later, the doe came running across the hayfield. Except she wasn't running in a straight line. She was running in a zig-zag circle pattern.
"She's looking for her babies," Randy said.
Even at that distance, from the way the doe was running, you could tell she was frantic and panicked. And you could hear her calling -- "maaaaaa! maaaaa!"
"I'm going to go down on the other side of the barn and see if I can't point her in the right direction," Randy said.
By the time Randy reached the barn, the doe was running down the hayfield -- away from her babies.
"I'll never catch up with her now," Randy said.
When she had almost reached the end of the five-acre field, the doe turned and came back, still running the zig-zag circle pattern.
"What are we going to do to help her?" I said.
The doe was still obviously frantic and panicked.
"I don't know," Randy said. "I know I can't catch up with her."
The doe, still making the zig-zag circle pattern, ran to the opposite side of our hayfield.
"Your babies are in the OTHER direction," I said.
And all the while, we could hear her calling -- "maaaaa! maaaa!"
As we watched the doe, I felt so sorry for her. She was desperately wanted to find her babies. I knew where her babies were. But I couldn't help her. I had no way of communicating that knowledge to her.
"Oh, look!" Randy said. "The babies found her!"
And sure enough -- the fawns had come across the neighbor's five-acre field and halfway across our field to meet up with their mother.
I suppose if we could hear the doe calling her children, then the fawns most definitely could hear their mother calling.
In an instant, as soon as the fawns were beside her, the doe relaxed. She turned and trotted into the neighbor's field, babies trotting behind her. When she was almost to the woods, she stopped and turned to look at her babies, as if to reassure herself that they were all right. And then all three of them trotted into the neighbor's woods.
I have never seen a deer looking for her babies before. I hope I don't have to watch it again. The doe was so frantic that I wanted more than anything to be able to help her, except there was nothing I could do. Even though I knew where her babies had gone.
Isn't is amazing, though? It doesn't matter if it's a deer mother, or a cat, or a dog, or a horse, or a raccoon -- or a human -- any kind of mother at all. The panic when a baby is lost apparently is universal among ALL mothers.
Then again, of course it is! Without that sense of panic from momma when a baby is lost, none of us, human or animal, would ever survive growing up.
The other interesting thing, now that I think about it, is the way Randy and I reacted. The doe was able to communicate her sense of panic to us -- and we, instinctively -- without even thinking about -- went to see if we could help her in some way.
***********************
Charlie seems to be feeling somewhat better today. He is able to move around a little more. And he doesn't look as if he feels as miserable. It's not a huge, dramatic improvement. But it is far, far better than taking a turn for the worse, if you ask me.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Thursday, June 29, 2006, 20:09
Hi-Ho Silver. . .Awaaaay!
Me and my trusty 12-year old GMC pickup truck (or maybe that should be rusty 12-year-old GMC pickup truck) made an emergency trip to the vet clinic this morning.
It all started when I let Charlie out of his kennel.
Usually when I come to let our Springer Spaniel, Charlie, out, he is standing by the door, eyes sparkling, ears perked, tail wiggling, jumping up and down because he is happy to go outside.
This morning, after I opened the kennel door, Charlie was still lying on his blanket.
"Come on, Charlie," I said, patting my leg.
Charlie looked up at me and then slowly, painfully rose to his feet.
"What's the matter with you?" I said. "Did you sleep funny? Are you stiff?"
Charlie slowly walked out of his kennel.
This was my second clue that something was wrong.
Usually, if I know what's good for me, I will jump back out of the way when I open Charlie's kennel door because he is ready to go and that's all there is to it. Seventy-pound Charlie normally gallops around the stairs and then waits by the door, tail wiggling, jumping up and down because he can't wait to go outside.
This morning he walked slowly to the door and then looked up at me as if to say, "you're not going to make me sit, are you?"
Usually I ask Charlie to sit and stay while I open the door. Charlie doesn't really sit, though, he crouches.
"No, you don't have to sit this morning, I guess, Charlie," I said.
I opened the door and Charlie slowly walked outside.
That was clue number three. Usually Charlie gallops outside, starts sniffing around, runs up to something, lifts his leg, trots off to the next place to sniff. But not this morning.
I went upstairs and made breakfast for Charlie and Pixie. Charlie ate, but not with any great enthusiasm. He has not been eating with any great enthusiasm for the past couple of days, come to think of it.
Now, usually, in the morning, when I go down to the barn to feed the horses, Charlie comes with me to see if he can't scare a kitten or two into hissing at him, or if his luck is really with him, to see if Kajun didn't drop some grain, or maybe even to steal some grain from Isabelle. (Kajun's grain is apparently especially tasty because it's in pellets and has lots of molasses in it.)
Charlie didn't come down to the barn this morning. That was clue number four.
A while later, I walked out to the hayfield to see if Charlie would come for a walk. It took some coaxing, but he finally meandered down the hill.
I walked to the end of the hayfield. Charlie made it halfway. And when I caught up with him again, he walked slowly in front of me.
A couple of times during the morning, too, I noticed that when Charlie got up from lying on the grass, he acted like he could barely get his hindquarters under him.
As I walked back along the hayfield, with Charlie slowly walking in front of me -- instead of happily trotting through the grass, hoping to find a pheasant or a turkey -- it dawned on me.
Charlie acts like this when he has Lyme disease.
And I ought to know. The poor dog has had Lyme disease four times.
When I got back to the house, I called Randy to tell him Charlie was sick. Then I called the vet clinic. I described his behavior and said I thought he should have some antibiotic for Lyme disease.
The vet tech informed me that they were in the process of changing the Lyme vaccine they use.
"We've had many, many failures over the past few years with the original vaccine," she said. "We finally decided it's just not working that well."
I think Charlie would be willing to testify to that.
"I'm going to get some antibiotic ready for you, and I'll get some vaccine ready for you, too," she said. "The new vaccine works completely differently, and you can give it when they've got an active Lyme infection. It's supposed to help for the symptoms of Lyme disease, too."
So, a few minutes later, I headed out the door.
And that's when I got the absolute biggest clincher clue of all that Charlie is sick.
A young couple (I have no idea who they were or where they came from) was out for a walk with their three small children. The little ones were strollers.
Charlie didn't even get up off the porch.
And THAT was the real clincher.
Because Charlie has never, ever failed to run out to the road to say "hi" to someone who is out for a walk. He loves people. He loves children. People AND children are irresistible. And if there are people AND children, he knows the chances are 100 percent that someone is going to pet him and make a big deal of out him. People always do. I don't know why. But I've seen it many times. Charlie bounces up to people, panting happily, and they stop and pet him and make a big deal out of him.
Except that this morning, Charlie didn't even care that there were people out for a walk.
So -- into town I went to the vet clinic with my trusty GMC. The GMC has been to the vet clinic so many times in the past month, it could probably go there by itself if I turned it loose.
The long and short of it is that Charlie has to be on doxycycline for 6 weeks.
In the past, he's had antibiotic for Lyme disease for three weeks.
The vet tech said they have been seeing cases of Erlichiosis as well, so they figure they might as well go six weeks because when they've been treating for three weeks, the dogs often come right back in with symptoms.
As soon as I got home, I mixed up the doxycycline for Charlie in some leftover hotdish. He thought that was pretty good and was willing to eat it.
Since then, Charlie has been lying around in different places but not doing much of anything. When I went down to the barn to check on Kajun's and Isabelle's water, he laid under the little lilac bush where he could see me.
Later on, when I went outside to do some mowing, he laid under the cedar tree where he could see me.
When I am in the house, he either lies in the daylilies by my office window or on his blanket right by the house where we tied him up when he still had his sutures.
I told the vet tech I thought about waiting to see if Charlie developed more severe symptoms, but she said waiting was not a good idea because, of course, the more entrenched the Lyme disease becomes, the longer it takes for the antibiotic to work, plus, dogs can suffer kidney damage from Lyme disease.
My other thought was, if I didn't get antibiotic for him today or tomorrow, it would be a long time -- middle of next week-- unless I asked one of the vets to come in over the Fourth of July holiday weekend to get antibiotic for me. And I don't think it makes sense to let the dog get sicker and sicker, plus ask someone to come into the office on a holiday weekend. I'm sure the vets will be busy enough as it is with emergencies over the weekend because with animals, there always seems to be an emergency somewhere sometime.
Poor, poor Charlie!
He just got well enough from the surgery to have his sutures out and was such a happy dog for the past week, and now this.
I am keeping my fingers crossed that he gets a better immunity from the new vaccine. I am also keeping my fingers crossed that the doxycycline works quickly to help him feel a little better. I told Randy he could assist me in giving the vaccine tonight by holding Charlie and keeping him still. I would rather not try to do it all by myself and then end up chasing Charlie around the yard with a needle stuck in his skin. Not that Charlie is moving terribly quickly today, but still. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph