Rae

Rae...

Rae was a very good dog.

Rae came to us on July 1, 1998. We had heard through the New England GSD Rescue mailing list about a pair of dogs that were to be put down that night at a shelter in Harlem New York. This shelter is a place that takes in a lot of street animals but space is limited so they can only keep them for so long. They were desperately looking to place these two GSDs immediately, otherwise they were to be destroyed at the end of the day.

Thea reads that mailing list and told Greg about the plight of these dogs. Knowing that the two of them could not keep another dog, but pained that these dogs would be destroyed, Greg politely begged off from a customer's site and drove his Rabbit from southern CT all the way to the shelter in Harlem. It was a heartbreaking experience. There were animals everywhere, well-cared-for but packed into smaller spaces. All gazed at visitors with large eyes and longing looks. The attendant, still on the phone calling various rescue organizations trying to place animals, took the time to speak to Greg and give him the status: there were two German Shepherds, one male and one female. Both were scheduled to be destroyed that evening. Greg asked her which of the two she was more likely to place; she responded that she was waiting on some callbacks on the male, but the female was older and needed some medical attention. She really didn't think she could place the female. Greg asked to look at her.

From a smaller cage emerged the dog we would later call Rae. She was thin, slightly mangy, with clumps of hair missing. She looked scared but confident, and when the attendant placed a cat near her (to test for her tolerance of cats for future placement) she didn't even move. We took her outside into a courtyard where Rae immediately evacuated, showing that she was house trained and had been desperately holding it in.

She looked to be in poor shape, and it was obvious that she had been living on the streets of New York for a while. Despite her physical appearance she had an "ambiance" about her, an attraction of confidence that said "try me, you won't regret it." Knowing that bringing her back inside was tantamount to death, Greg agreed to take her home. After a few minutes of paperwork Rae was walking beside Greg towards the hatchback of the Rabbit for the 1-1/2 hour drive home to Milford. She made it within 10 minutes of home before puking in the back of the car...

Greg and Thea immediately fed her and gave her a thorough bath. She cleaned up nice, although her hair was mottled and missing in parts all over. The vet confirmed that she had a few problems, and said she would probably do fine with some medicine. He estimated her age at about 8 and predicted that she'll either give up in 6 months or live quite a few more years. We named her "Rae", short for "Raisinette"; we had nicknamed Luke "Goober" (because that's what he is), and then came "Raisinette" (remember the candies...?)

Rae started out as a temporary house guest, a foster until we were able to find her a good home. Somehow we never got around to making serious efforts to find Rae a new home, partly because she was in such bad shape and partly because we liked having her around. After only a few weeks of care we noticed a dramatic improvement in her appearance. Her thinness soon bulked up into a strong-chested dog, her hair grew out to be clean, shiny, and voluminous. She had beautiful coloring and soft fur, with areas of varying colors and even tiger-like stripes. She quickly became a very attractive "Big" German Shepherd. Even better, Rae had found a new home.

It didn't take nearly that long, however, for her to express her personality. She quickly asserted her confidence at our home, making it quite clear to Luke who was the boss. Luke didn't know quite how to handle this new addition, which resulted in more than a few cases of fur flying and teeth knashing. It took over half a year before we were able to let those two dogs stay together without some physical separation, but within a year Luke "got it" and figured out how to play the omega dog role.

Rae was two personalities wrapped into one package: towards other animals she was aggressive, even mean; but towards people she was a ham and a sweetheart. Rae could tolerate kids rubbing, pulling, and patting her; she became a favorite among the neighbors. Get any other dog near the yard, however, and she would start barking and pulling on the leash and scratching to get out. She would sit in the backyard at the fence at the Milford house and bark bloody murder at anything that walked by; she could continue barking for hours on end, much to Thea's frustration. Bring her out on a lease and she was a big pussy cat to all the neighbors.

And boy, did she love to go on walks. Bringing out the leash would get her attention, and she could walk around the block seemingly forever, sniffing everything and trying to mark the whole neighborhood as her own. For as anyone that met her knows Rae was the Queen of the neighborhood, The Boss. She also loved going on car rides. We'd pile Rae and Luke into the back of the Audi wagon and they'd watch the world go by, sniffing at all the new smells.

Rae hated loud noises, especially explosions. Any popping, fireworks, backfires and such would send her into a frenzy of barking. The occasional accidental setting off of the neighbor's home alarm would send her into a virtual spasm, standing up, barking and screaming. Trying to keep her calm during the annual Milford July Fourth fireworks display was virtually impossible.

It was in her third year with us that we began to notice strange behavior. Whereas she used to be able to walk up the rear porch stairs with some coaxing, she was becoming more and more resistant to trying, with increased whining as we tried to get her to go up. We thought at first it was a mental thing, but soon thereafter we began to notice that she wasn't doing as well during our walks, as if she were getting tired sooner. It got to the point where she would not walk up the stairs at all on her own and we had to carry her up. Fearing she was suffering from hip displasia, we brought her to the vet.

The vet did a lot of diagnostics and could find nothing to indicate any joint, disc, or hip problems. He put her on various arthritis and joint medications hoping to improve her, but she did not seem to respond to these medications. He soon diagnosed her with Degenerative Myelopathy. DM is a nerve disease, a condition in which the myelin sheath around the nerves degenerates, making it difficult for the nerve transmissions to get from the brain to the muscles; basically, doggie Multiple Sclerosis. A progressive weakening of the rear legs occurs. The vet said we could expect her condition to gradually worsen to the point where she would no longer have use of her hind legs; he gave her 6-9 months to live.

We tried various medications and treatments, but her condition worsened. She stopped going up the back steps entirely and we had to walk her around the front of the house, up the sloped driveway, into the house via the single step. Soon, we had to carry her even up that step, and she hated walking (limping?) across the slick linoleum kitchen floor. It wasn't too long when she wasn't walking at all so we had to simply sling her to get her into the porch where she spent her evenings.

Subsequent vet visits confirmed the diagnosis, and we were told that we had to diligently work to keep her clean and comfortable. The vet assured us that we had done more than enough for her since the rescue and that we should feel no guilt should we have to put her down. Despite this dire news, we enjoyed Rae's company and although it was a significant drain on Thea to care for Rae we kept going, watching her closely for any signs of discomfort or pain. Her muscle tone from mid-back down was almost all gone soon but through it all her personality had remained unchanged: she still seemed happy, alert, and pain-free.

Rae stayed with us during the relocation to a new home in Middletown, soon celebrating her fifth "re-birthday" in July of 2003. After the move to the new house she was given carte blanche to a much larger yard in a more rural setting with birds, trees, and lots of rabbits (and even a few cats) in and out of the bushes. Rae did her daily duty of rabbit and cat patrol, making sure the evil creatures never set foot near her home. Visitors noted a distinct improvement in her demeanor and appearance. She took to "the country" like the queen she was, lounging under the shade and keeping Luke in line whenever necessary. It was doggie heaven on earth.

We'd been noting that her barking seemed more quietened, much lower in volume, and we discovered we were able to unintentionally sneak up on her from behind. We figured she may have been barking at phantoms, but then again it was a bigger yard so maybe we didn't notice it as much. We finally figured out she was going deaf. On top of that we noticed clouding in her left eye, so she was going blind in one eye as well! Through it all, though, she was still in great spirits, happy, and seemingly comfortable.

In early June 2003 Rae took a turn for the worst. We noticed the quickly-growing problem with her left eye: it was becoming cloudy, swollen, and she had some increased discharge. This seemed to happen in a matter of days and we were concerned that she had an infection or injury. We brought her to her vet. The vet pretty much summed it up: she was on her last legs. He at first thought the eye was due to glaucoma but tests disproved that. Next, he suspected some kind of lymphoma. He gave us some medicine to give to her and watch her for several days. During the same examination he found an abcess on her inner leg, caused primarily from debris from her partial incontinence. He agreed with us that she appeared in good spirits and wasn't in any pain, so he cleaned her up and let us take her home.

Despite herself Old Rae held on. Medication cleaned up her eye (although it was still blind), and proper care allowed the abcess to heal. Regardless of the number of times we were about to give up on her, Rae continued to hang on, emotionally if not physically. She seemed constantly happy and in good spirits, and still enjoyed sitting out in the yard barking at rabbits, squirrels, cats, and anything else that dared tread on her territory.

Unfortunately, around Christmas 2003 we noticed her demeanor had changed slightly, primarily because she was inside all the time due to cold weather. On top of that she developed another urinary tract infection (her fourth) as well as a suspected anal sac infection. She began to look bored almost all of the time and rarely moved around. We knew at that point it was time to let go, that we were keeping her alive not for herself but for us. It was obvious that her quality of life was quickly slipping, and we figured that an immobile, hard-of-hearing, partially-blind dog, despite being in good spirits, just wasn't living the life desired. We kept her comfortable for a couple of weeks to let her enjoy one last family visit, and on January 14th, 2004 we put her to sleep for the last time. It was probably the hardest thing we've ever had to do.

Rae was a very good dog. She will always be missed.

Postscript

On May 30, 2004 we had a gathering at the Middletown house to crack open two new brew, Fuzzy Girl Tan and Fuzzy Girl Black. These were two German beers we brewed in Honor of Rae. We toasted her memory and spread her ashes in the yard where she reigned.

Postscript 2

In late September, we entered both Fuzzy Girl beers in the Durham (CT) Fair, Beer Group. Fuzzy Girl Tan took home a red ribbon, and Fuzzy Girl Black took home a blue ribbon! Photos to follow soon.