Innehållsförteckning för January - February 2018 från All Creatures

MY NAME IS GRACE. I am a golden retriever. My human is Edward Grinnan. He is helping me write this. I know I am a good dog—or at least I’m told that about 100 times a day—but I want to be better. I have heard people talking about New Year’s resolutions. I think these could help me in my growth and development. So here are a few goals I am going to try and live up to in 2018. But remember, I’m not perfect. Observe boundaries I have a habit of running up to strangers and sticking my snout into whatever body surface is convenient. Not all people like this. Some actually howl. Likewise, not every dog wants to play with me or be sniffed, even though I want to…

Jake the Diamond Dog Golden retriever Jake travels to ballparks around the United States to lend a helping paw at minor league baseball games. Though he’s not likely to step up as a pinch hitter, he can deliver the ball to the pitcher, shag foul balls, play batboy and even bring water and towels to the umps and players. Follow Jake on Facebook@jakethediamonddog. Golf Caddie Llamas Some golf courses in North Carolina offer a unique type of caddie. Friendly llamas, whose feet cause less wear and tear on the course than carts, carry your clubs in a special harness. Between shots, they enjoy strolling and nibbling grass. The llamas are accompanied by a human supervisor, who can measure yardage and read greens. Land Mine- and Tuberculosis-Detecting Rats What’s that smell?…

MY THREE›MONTH› old golden retriever Petey charged into puppy kindergarten, tugging at his leash and tripping over his big feet. And he was supposed to become a therapy dog? I first encountered a therapy dog six years ago, when my husband lay gravely ill in the hospital. Fear overwhelmed me until Gabriel, a huge Bernese mountain dog, strode into his room. The dog sat patiently while I hugged his neck and released all my worries. That moment, I knew that one day I’d train a therapy dog of my own. And I did. First there was 10-year-old Ike, his gentle temperament just right for helping homesick college students. Next Ernest, 8, passed the test. Now it’s Petey’s turn. But he has a long way to go! A therapy dog needs…

Lord, as I get older, help me to accept your aging-gracefully gifts with gusto and grace. —Patricia Lorenz THE CLEARWATER MARINE AQUARIUM, 10 miles up the road from my home in Florida, takes wounded or sick dolphins, sea turtles, otters, sharks, stingrays and fish and nurses them back to health so they can be returned to the ocean. My favorite mammal at the aquarium is Winter the dolphin, who lost most of her tail in a crab trap and had to be fitted with a prosthetic that has an extra-sensitive silicon sleeve. Developed just for Winter, it can be suctioned to her body so that she can dip up and down the way dolphins normally do. Watching Winter swim with her artificial tail reminds me that for 15 years I…

The majority of people adopting dogs at shelters are drawn to young pups that probably have many years ahead of them. But there’s a whole other set of companions in need that are often overlooked: senior dogs. The Grey Muzzle Organization is working hard to clear up the misconceptions about adopting an older dog. Over the past decade, executive director Lisa Lunghofer and her colleagues at Grey Muzzle have provided more than $1 million in grants to programs that help at-risk senior dogs. Here, she shares why she’s dedicated to the cause—and what she really wants you to know about saving an older dog’s life. How did you get involved with Grey Muzzle? Grey Muzzle was founded in 2008. It was a grassroots organization and, until two years ago, all…

STEPHANIE: Christmas City Village! I’d been dreaming of coming to this fabulous arts and crafts festival in downtown Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, for years. But December was always busy, and Bethlehem is a 90-minute drive from where we live. Marty and I had been particularly busy in 2016. Still, we planned a little getaway and finally made the trip. MARTY: The SteelStacks building, once the heart of the Bethlehem Steel mill and now an arts center, was aglow with lights. The holiday spirit was all around. Yet Christmastime has been bittersweet ever since I lost my brother Mark in 2004. A lieutenant colonel in the Army, he’d been killed in Mosul, Iraq, a city he had taken pride in helping to rebuild. He was just 11 months older than me, and growing…

EVEN WITH HURRICANE HARVEY bearing down on southeast Texas in August 2017, Houston resident Betty Walter, 44, didn’t hesitate when two homeless men asked her to take in their dogs. Her biggest concern wasn’t what flooding might do to her house. “I just wanted to make sure the dogs were safe,” she said. As other people evacuated ahead of the storm, Betty, who has four dogs of her own, also opened her door to foster dogs awaiting adoption and a few of her neighbors’ pups. By the time Harvey touched down, she had 21 dogs taking refuge in her attic. Betty tried to stay calm as the floodwaters rose, posting messages on social media until her phone battery died. After 14 hours, several Good Samaritans searching the neighborhood in a…

Q My cat ate some string. What should I do? —Sabra Ciancanelli, Tivoli, New York A Did your kitty get into your craft kit? Don’t panic. This is a common concern among cat owners. Here’s what you can do to make sure your pet is well taken care of. First, when was the string consumed? If you saw it happen or are sure it was ingested within the past 30 minutes, take your cat to the vet immediately so she can safely induce vomiting. Never try to induce vomiting at home (such as by giving your cat hydrogen peroxide). symptoms requires a visit to the vet. Your vet may suggest an endoscopy—a noninvasive procedure during which a small camera is placed inside your cat’s stomach—to see what’s going…

In more than 20 years of practice, veterinarian Melanie R. Butera had treated countless animals in life-or-death situations, but nothing prepared her for the blind fawn brought into her emergency clinic by farmer Al Glick one spring night in 2004. The three-day-old deer, who had been abandoned by her mother, hadn’t nursed since she was born. No one expected her to survive. “IT’S A GIRL!” The fawn was dying. Her temperature was so low, it didn’t register on the thermometer. I prepared myself for Mr. Glick to say, “Just put her to sleep.” “I thought maybe you might want her if you can save her,” he said. “Pardon me?” “Well, I know you said you had a barn and all, and you love deer, so if you want to try…

It was all going to be so perfect. For as long as I could remember, my father had talked about moving to Montana—Big Sky Country. We’d taken many a hike amid sun-washed stretches of green grass on our visits there. It was a long way from our home in Georgia, but Dad dreamed of buying a farm in Montana and getting into the burgeoning business of raising ferrets to sell as pets. “Everyone has them out there, April,” Dad told me. “They’re small and skinny with big raccoon eyes—really frisky and playful. We’ll get a place with plenty of room for them to run around.” No, it wasn’t your standard white-picket-fence-and-a-dog American dream, but it didn’t matter. I’d always loved animals, and this sounded like it would be a real…

I STILL REMEMBER it to this day: I was about seven years old, riding in our family’s pickup truck with my dad and checking the cattle on the back edge of our Tennessee farm, when I declared, “If I ever get a dog, I’d name him Buffalo.” It just came to me out of the blue. Dad didn’t question me. He simply smiled. A year later we took in a three-month-old cocker spaniel from a couple that wasn’t able to keep him. Dad let me name the pup. Buffalo was like a little brother to me, sitting patiently as I dressed him up in doll clothes, playing along as I chased him around the house. He happily shared the back seat with my sister and me on family road trips…

THIS STUBBORN PNEUMONIA. I’d been laid up in my apartment for several days already, and instead of getting better, I was getting sicker. I do have allergies and asthma, but I couldn’t remember ever feeling this bad. I was so weak, I could barely get out of bed, let alone take care of my pet guinea pig, Snickers. Not that he needed much maintenance, as I’d told the allergists who’d urged me to get rid of him, but right now I didn’t even have the strength to clean his cage. All I wanted to do was sleep. My eyes shut slowly. “SQUEAK!” Snickers shrieked at the top of his lungs. You’d never think this adorable little creature could make such an ear-splitting sound. “Please be quiet, Snickers,” I groaned.…

I MOVED 800 MILES AWAY from my family to start my first job after college. I loved my work. But coming home to the emptiness of the apartment I’d rented—that was no fun! Early one morning I was awakened by what could only be the meowing of a cat, and it was close by. I got up to investigate. In the kitchen, I found the back door open—I was certain I’d locked it the night before—and, to my amazement, there was a tattered green-eyed tiger cat striding imperiously around the room. I quickly searched my apartment. Nothing was missing; nothing had been tampered with. Reassured but puzzled, I knelt to pet the cat. She nuzzled against me, purring contentedly. A few days passed and no one in the neighborhood claimed…

One summer day my husband stroked our golden retriever Ernest’s side, the same way we both had many times before. But this time he felt a bump, no bigger than a mosquito bite. Our vet’s biopsy showed that it was a malignant mast cell tumor. Cancer. One moment we thought our eight-year-old dog was perfectly healthy; the next, we knew that he had a potentially fatal disease. How did it happen? Could we have prevented it? Sometimes there’s no explaining why a pet becomes ill. You may feel scared, distraught or confused. There is no wrong reaction. It’s okay to cry—your pet is a beloved part of the family. Here are four steps you can take to cope with a difficult diagnosis and give your pet the best care possible.…