10 ways pets help our health

I found this beautiful list of 10 health reasons why pets are great for seniors. Although I’m not a senior, these apply to me, too!

I especially can relate to “easier to make friends” and “pets are friends,” as well as the concept that the pet leads you to become more active. Three cheers for pets!

Old Dog Winston

Here is my favorite recent photo of Winston. I think he looks wise and gentle as only an old dog can.

It reminds me of a lovely quote that I discovered on a site called the Senior Dogs Project:
“Blessed is the person who has earned the love of an old dog.”
- Sydney Jeanne Seward

Winston’s health is continuing to decline and we are trying various solutions. One that’s working out pretty well is creating new beds for him out of plastic tarps covered with newspapers in his favorite areas.

But today for the first time I sensed that he is withdrawing from the world. It’s too hard to post more details.

A spirit-dog cares for Winston

Last night we made Winston sleep in the bathroom on a yoga mat covered with newspapers to soak up his urine.

When I woke up in the morning I felt something I’ve never felt before: Relief that Winston wasn’t with me. I didn’t have to worry about where he was peeing or hear his endless, anxious licking. I had reached a new place in my journey with Winston. I lingered in bed, enjoying the respite.

Then Dillon’s alarm went off, and Winston started whimpering. I opened the bathroom door and we had a happy reunion among the soaked newspapers. It smelled like a whole kennel full of dogs.

I got some fresh newspapers and petted him as we lay together on the living room floor. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought of the song “The Rose.”

Later (10 pm)
People kept telling me to consider my dog’s quality of life in deciding whether the time for euthanasia had come. I kept thinking Winston’s quality of life was still good. Until today, when for the first time I could really see a problem.

It struck me when Dillon and I shut Winston in the bathroom and left to go on a walk in the park without him. Normally we would have taken him with us, but it’s impossible for him to go for a walk outside now. I missed Winston and felt sad thinking of him shut alone in the bathroom, lying in his own urine.

One thought helped me: I imagined/prayed that Winston was not really alone, but that a spirit dog was with him. Dillon and I always believed that a spirit dog had guided Winston to us originally. Now that spirit dog has come to guide Winston again.

When we got home, Winston seemed to be at peace. He was glad to see us, but it didn’t seem like he had missed us too much. Instead, he appeared to be refreshed by his afternoon nap in the bathroom.

Doggie diapers, part 2

Here's Winston in his new denim diaper
(Usually he smiles for the camera, but in this case he refused)

Winston’s dog diaper was soon soaked, even with frequent changing of the inner pad. He smelled worse than ever and had a bad case of diaper rash. I took off the diaper for laundering and resumed the routine of slipping newspapers under him wherever he lay down. Soon he got the idea and started deliberately laying down on the newspaper sometimes -- hallelujah!

The diaper routine seemed impossible, so I checked the Internet and learned from a handicapped pets website that there is a secret to reducing the volume of urine collected in the diaper. It’s called “expressing a dog’s bladder.” In other words, manually pushing on a dog’s abdomen to make the dog urinate. The human does the work instead of the dog’s bladder muscles. The site described people doing it successfully on dogs up to 85 pounds. I tried with a small amount of success (possibly a coincidence). Then Dillon and I tried together and got nothing. I’m not sure if we can make this work, but it seems like a good idea and Winston loved the hands-on contact.

Extra-large dog diapers

Winston has completely lost control over his bladder. He drips urine almost constantly, then looks ashamed and tries to lick it up. Dillon and I were at our wit’s end after trying to put newspapers under him to absorb his pee every time he changed position. My muscles ached and I got in touch with the anger stage of the grief process.

We knew that we could not go on like that. With heavy hearts, we called Dr. Beasley to discuss our options, including euthanasia.

She was sorry to hear that Winston could no longer walk or control his urination, and amazed to hear that he was otherwise cheerful and healthy. “Usually something else is bad. It’s unusual when it’s just the legs,” she said.

I don’t even know how we managed to bring up the topic of euthanasia.

“I’d hate to euthanize a dog just for incontinence,” she said. “If he was my dog, I’d put him in a cart and in a dog diaper for a while. But he’s not my dog…”

Dog diapers?

But did Dr. Beasley actually know anyone who had done this with a 100-pound dog like Winston?

Well, no. But she did know people who had done it for their 80-pound pit bull. The dog pulled himself around on his front legs and they kept him alive for three more years. “Of course, there’s a big difference between 80 pounds and 100 pounds,” she admitted.

Well, Dillon and I decided that dog diapers were worth a try.

I called the local pet store and found out that they do make extra-large dog diapers that are big enough for Winston. The fact that they existed was encouraging. Dillon and I drove over and bought the “male diaper wrap garment” and some diaper pads.

Winston surprised me by welcoming this new device. He didn’t try to get out of his diaper. Instead, he seemed relieved to not be soiling the house anymore. He still looked pretty sharp in his navy-blue denim wrap, too.

The wrap fits well, but the pads seem to be designed for 10-pound dogs. They are way, way too small for Winston’s needs. We’re having to load his wrap with wads of towels. I’ll be looking into diapers and pads designed for adult human incontinence.

Sometimes it seems extreme and eccentric to go to such lengths to care for a dog, to give a dog the type of elder care that is usually reserved for humans. But then I think about who helped me and Dillon when I was mostly housebound. People knew, but rarely visited or offered help. My family did what they could, but they live too far away to come more than once or twice a year. We got the best help from paid assistants -- and Winston, who was far more humane than most humans.

Dealing with Winston’s health challenges is very draining, and sometimes I don't know how much of myself to keep giving. Exiling him to the yard for incontinence would probably be worse than death for Winston. His only wish is to be near us.

The inner pup

We got a “Body Vibe” machine for my health this week. Standing on vibrating plate is supposed to strengthen and heal me. I’ve been using one at my doctor’s office for a few years with good results, so I decided to buy a home model.

The doctor predicted that it could help Winston, too! “He won’t like it, but put his paws on the Body Vibe for about 10 minutes a day.”

Dillon and I were doubtful, but gave it a try. To our amazement, Winston DID like getting his paws vibrated. Soon he was holding his front paws on the machine of his own accord, and stretching in contentment. After the first treatment, his face lit up with bright eyes and a youthful expression.

“It’s like he got in touch with his inner child-- I mean, his inner pup!” Dillon declared.

True tales from life with an incontinent Dane

Dillon and I got in a fight early this morning over how to get Winston across our patio without scraping his knees and thighs against the cement. Our goal was to get him to the grass to poop. It took a path patched together from yoga mats and cardboard. We motivated Winston to drag his butt across it by putting his breakfast on a chaise longue out on the grass.

It all had to be done quickly as soon as we got up, before Winston pooped in the house. This method worked, but left me and Dillon frazzled.

I asked Dillon to rearrange the yoga mats for Winston’s return trip, then I was dissatisfied and redid it again myself. She was outraged.

“I’m never going to ask you what to do any more,” she snapped. “I’m just going to do it myself!”

“Fine! You two just stay out here.” I went back inside and hurried into the bathroom. Winston wasn’t the only one who needed to pee.

Within less than a minute, Dillon was yelling at me again. “Lynnie, should I bring Winston back in the house? What should I do?”

After that I called in a subscription to the daily LA Times today so we would have a constant supply of newspapers to clean up after Winston’s messes in the house. Hey, I might actually enjoy reading it, too!