Dakota

Dakota was a naughty dog.

Don't get me wrong. He was a sweet boy.

Dakota was naughty in an endearing, lovable way. His mischievous personality made him interesting. When most people think of golden retrievers, they picture a sweet, loyal, family dog. Dakota was all of those things. However, he had a side to him that separated him from the pack. His naughty ways made me love him even more.

Naughty Dakota moments (in no particular order)

• Walking himself by grabbing his leash in his mouth
• Perusing the junkyard across the street from our house on Roosevelt
• Nosing around in the uncovered compost pile on Roosevelt
• Chasing the mama doe and her Bambies on Roosevelt (likely due to encouragement from Colin)
• Chewing holes in the carpet in my apartment, the rental house on Hill street, and our rental house on Roosevelt
• Chewing the walls in my apartment 
• The moments when he had a choice: come back in the house OR carouse around the neighborhood - he almost always got a twinkle in his eyes and chose to carouse
• *Having to register as a sex offender for defiling his Aunt Sophie in the back of the Tundra at a Safeway in Tahoe - so embarrassing when he had to knock on doors and inform all of the neighbors of his presence when we moved to a new house
• Knocking over small children in the park - he never understood how big he was
• Choosing to exit river right in the Old Mill to troll for hamburgers at Red Robin while we were floating the river - thank goodness for the nice pedestrians who guided him back into the water

*This is an inside/family joke-I don't expect anyone who does not know this story to understand, but I had to include it.

I am sure the list could go on. I did not even give Colin a chance to weigh in with his favorite moments. He wasn't Marley & Me naughty, but you get the point.

He sure was handsome. Perhaps that is why he got away with so much......

We lost Dakota on Thursday, October 16th. He was just over nine years old, too young to go. He had been a little "off" for a few days. We noticed he was not eating much, but he was an older dog and certainly seemed to go through little phases when he may not be feeling so great. However, we had no idea he was really sick. After about three days of not eating and some behavior ups and downs, Colin noticed something was really wrong one evening before he came upstairs to bed. Dakota was sitting next to him while he was in the recliner and he had his head cocked to the side with a strange look on his face. He could not seem to shake it, but Colin eventually got him to his bed and came upstairs. Hoping to not get me worried, he did not say anything about it. I had been at school for 12 hours due to conferences and had another 12 hour day on the horizon, so he spared me any reason to lose sleep.

The next day I got an IM from Colin asking me to call him. Dakota had collapsed in the backyard and wasn't doing so well. At first I advised Colin to call the vet and keep me updated. The more I thought about the story from the night before and the gravity of him actually collapsing and losing his bowels on himself, I started to realize this was not going to end well. I knew I could not sit at school waiting to hear what was going on, so I asked Colin to head to the vet despite the fact they were not open yet. I left school to meet him and my dad there.

I could tell immediately by the look on my dad's face the minute I walked in to the waiting room that it was bad. My parents have never recovered from the loss of our family golden, Cody, and that happened over ten years ago. They were reliving the experience because they were staying with us at our house while all of this was happening.

A few minutes later, Colin and I were able to meet with the vet, who was there to perform surgery but stopped what she was doing to take care of our emergency. She informed us that Dakota was bleeding pretty heavily internally, likely due to a mass in his abdomen that had ruptured. Even though I saw the writing on the wall as I was driving to the vet, I broke down sobbing. My poor baby was sick and I had no idea. How long had he been in pain? Were there obvious signs telling me something was seriously wrong that I had missed? Our lives were turned upside down for the past 14 months with the premature arrival of Jackson and being first time parents. I knew our dogs had taken a back seat, but I always thought they would have their glory days of being our pampered fur babies again soon. Unfortunately, it was too late. He was treated like a dog for the first time in his life for the past year, and it was too late to make it up to him.

Dakota was on heavy pain meds when they brought him in on a stretcher. He was smiling and wagging his tail. Our naughty dog had no idea this was his time. It was excruciating, but I stayed with him until his last breath. When he was gone, I stayed a little longer and told him everything I would have done with him if we had more time together.

I was wracked with remorse, guilt, and disbelief. I tried to go back to school and continue with conferences. Bad idea. By mid-day I put a sign on my door apologizing to the families I would miss and left. I wasn't doing anyone any good crying my way through the day. It was awkward, and having to explain myself each time my students and their families walked in on me crying was making things worse.

In a way, it was a blessing that we did not know he was sick. He did not suffer much, and we did not have to watch him slowly die. Either way, we lost a member of our family. People who love their dogs as if they were children understand the gaping hole left in your heart when they pass. A friend told me that nothing would ever fill that hole, but there is room for more love in my heart. She was right.

RIP Dakota.
We love you very much.

I Ate Poop

I'll set the scene:

Jackson is bundled in his full-body snowsuit and boots. Colin and I are shoveling the driveway. Jackson relocates to the mat in front of the door. We naively presume he has found a warm, dry spot to relax and watch us work.

Wrong!

Colin notices one of Jackson's gloves has come off. Typical, the puppy is constantly undressing our baby. 

"Honey, the baby is eating poop."

Fantastic.

I guess Jackson found some frozen treats in the snow and decided to go for it while we were busy assuming he was being a good boy.

Here is some advice from a rookie mom if you ever find yourself in this situation.

What To Do When Your Baby Eats Poop

1. Determine the specific type of feces. In this case, it was puppy poop left in the snow for Jackson to enjoy. If you are dealing with dog or baby poop, proceed to step 2. If you are unsure of the poop origin, call your pediatrician or poison control immediately.
2. Run a warm bath. Baby needs to be cleaned immediately! You may be thinking, "the poop is already inside", but you need to remove the residuals from the hands, mouth, and any other parts before the situation continues downhill. 
3. Remove clothes. Consider burning them.
4. Remove any poop from baby exterior before immersing in tub. In this case, the poop started out frozen so we did not have a big mess. 
5. Apply soap liberally. I included the mouth, both interior and exterior. Hey, I use all-natural soap, so don't judge. I figure people have been washing kid's mouths out with soap for hundreds of years for using bad words; this is just a different type of potty mouth.
6. Google "My baby ate poop". You will be surprised how this pops up immediately and how many websites offer both advice and comfort. You are not alone.
7. Feed your baby. Clearly whatever you were doing at the time of the incident was not more important than your baby's hunger. 
8. Watch for diarrhea, low-grade fever, and any other intestinal issues. These are all normal. Consider calling pediatrician during regular office hours. Again, this is not an emergency.
9. Participate in online baby shaming to document incident. Save story for baby's rehearsal dinner one day.