Taste of Kiwi: Blog of Author Shelley Munro

Bella is a year old now but still very much a puppy. Thankfully, she seems to have stopped growing and is a small/medium size. Just right for us. She keeps us constantly amused with her behavior. Here are a few recent shots.

Bella playing with a brown paper bag

Bella asking permission to jump up on a chair

Bella comfortable on the chair

During the hotter summer days we make our puppy an iceblock. It not only keeps her cool but also helps keep her amused if we have to leave her alone for a few hours. You have no idea how much mischief one puppy can get up to if they’re left to their own devices!!

To make an ice block you need:

1 x plastic container plus lid.
an assortment of doggy treats.

We use margarine or ice cream containers. For the treats we use meat scraps, chopped sausages, cubes of cheese etc. If we have them on hand we also use meat juices/stock to flavor the water.

Method: chop up treats and place in plastic container. Fill container with water and place in freezer. Once the ice block is frozen, tip it out of the container and give to your dog on a hot day. The treats tend to sink to the bottom so you might like to fill your container up halfway, freeze, then add some more treats and water so you have treats in the middle of the ice block.

Do you make any special treats for your pets?

We picked up our new puppy from the Humane Society tonight. She’s a Jack Russell X and is fifteen weeks old.

She only has one speed—fast!

Her name is Bella and she’s very cute.

Last Thursday we picked up our first foster dog from the SPCA. He’s a Stafford terrier cross and is six months old. His name is Patch Adams. He had surgery on his left hind leg and was on cage rest until we brought him home.

When Patch first arrived at our place, he was very timid. Our section is fully fenced but I had a few anxious moments when I couldn’t find him. He spent the rest of the day hiding behind the potager garden. When he did finally emerge from hiding, he claimed Scotty’s old kennel and made himself at home.

Our job as fosters is to build his confidence, teach him manners and get him used to a lead. We’re walking him every morning and night, giving him loads of affection and building his confidence by introducing him to new situations and noises.

He’s very good at sitting and is improving daily in the confidence arena. For the first few days he didn’t like leaving the section but now he’s eager to walk. The second day with us, he started chewing. Luckily the cannon bone Mr. Munro brought home has done the trick, and he’s concentrated on chewing that. My shoes and doormat are safe again.

Patch is a loving and very affectionate dog. He’s really sweet and will make someone a wonderful pet.

Hubby and I wandered down to the local school to check out their gala day. I snapped this shot of a miniature pony and a Great Dane puppy because it made me laugh. I actually had trouble getting a decent shot because people got in the way. The pony wanted to hide under the trailer while the Great Dane wanted to sleep. They are definitely “The Odd Couple.”

To see more animal photos visit Camera Critters

It hasn’t been a good weekend. We had to have our little dog put down yesterday. I keep turning around expecting to see Scotty there. When she’s not, I remember and tear up.

Mr. Munro and I are sad.

In 1996 my husband and I decided we’d like a dog for both company and to give us an incentive to go for a walk each day. We had a very small section at the time and needed a dog to suit. We also decided to re-home an unwanted dog rather than purchase a pedigree animal and wanted an older dog instead of a puppy. With this in mind, our first port of call was the nearest SPCA. We visited on several weekends, but most of the dogs were larger ones with definite Pit Bull ancestry. Not quite what we were looking for.

Our search led us to the Humane Society next. Yes, they had three fox terrier-cross dogs that required homes. One was a confirmed digger, another was younger and quite nervous, but they thought the third dog might suit us—a female of around three years. She had lived on a farm and her owners had moved to a town. Her determined straying became a problem, and she needed a new owner. Would we like to meet her?

The following weekend we drove to Orewa, north of Auckland to meet our prospective dog. The first time I saw Scotty I thought what an ugly little dog. She looks like a fox terrier but is a little larger. She has a black head and a white coat with mottled black spots on most of her body. On her back toward is rump is one large black spot about the size of a tennis ball. She still has her tail, which pleased us very much since my husband and I like dogs with tails. It’s the personality factor for us. The interesting thing is that my husband thought she was a plain-looking dog too, but if anyone dared to say that to either of us now, we’d argue long and loud.

We ended up taking Scotty home with us. She settled into our routine very easily, the toilet training no problem at all. We decided we’d walk her morning and night and we’ve kept that routine up until recently.

From the start she never barked much. She didn’t like magazines near her, especially if they were rolled up or having her head touched, although she’s grown out of this. Scotty has a delightful personality, and I’ve never known her to bite anyone. When my husband used to work a lot of nights, Scotty would disappear around our usual bed time. I’d go to our bedroom and find that she’d jumped on our bed and dragged back the duvet cover and sometimes the sheets. I’d find her curled up in a ball, fast asleep. It was like having hotel turn-down service, but she only did it if my husband was working nights.

Fast forward in time. We’ve had Scotty for thirteen years and she’s now almost sixteen, a good age for a dog. Throughout the years, her health has been excellent. She has slowed down a lot, her face turning quite gray and both her eyesight and hearing greatly reduced. This year she’s lost a lot of weight and developed problems with her spine, losing much of the feeling in her hindquarters. She’s having trouble getting up and down, sometimes requiring help to get to her feet. She tends to lean on walls and other items of furniture for balance. We’re closely monitoring her condition and she’s on medication, which seems to help a little.

I’ve read that the measure of quality of life for a dog comes in the form of three questions.

1. Does the animal still have a healthy appetite?
2. Is the animal in pain?
3. Is the animal able to continue with normal toilet procedures or do they lie in their waste?

Scotty has always had a good appetite and this continues. She never complains and remains happy for us to pick her up if she falls over or for a cuddle. Mostly she’s pretty good with her toilet practices, although I have to be vigilant if she’s inside. If she goes to sleep in her basket sometimes she can’t move quick enough to get outside in time.

Her lack of mobility is a problem though. When she walks her spine is arched and her fur along her backbone is very erect all the time, as if she’s angry or about to attack. If she lies down for too long, she finds it difficult to get up and often falls over. When she is moving around she often turns in circles because her hindquarters don’t function as they should. And as I mentioned earlier, she has lost condition despite her good appetite.

While she seems relatively happy, there is no doubt her health is deteriorating quickly, almost weekly. It’s not fair to prolong a dog’s life (or any pet’s life) when their life lacks quality. The day is fast approaching when we’ll have to make the decision to have her put down, and it’s breaking my heart. She’s offered faithful companionship, given us incentive to exercise and even inspired the first book I sold to Ellora’s Cave. Life won’t be the same without her small furry face around the place.

Mr. Munro went back to work today, and I went back to writing. I’ve had a great day and a reworked story will be heading to my editor’s inbox later this evening. It’s good to be back in a routine of sorts, although we’re off for a couple of days toward the end of the week to celebrate hubby’s birthday. The forecast is for sunny weather, which will be good. We’re taking the train to the National Park in the middle of the North Island. I thought it would take around three hours. I don’t know why I thought that. Mr. Munro informed me it will take around five hours to get to our destination. I mumbled about making sure my iPod and PDA were charged, although the scenery during the ride is stunning. New Zealand is a pretty country. Anyhow, my point is that I like being in a routine. I like knowing what I’m doing, and I’m mostly a creature of habit.

The wee dog isn’t very well again. We took her to the vet and have some new pills for her to take. Her hind quarters aren’t obeying commands so she’s walking like a drunken sailor at times. Poor wee thing. Hopefully the medication will improve things. She’s fifteen now and unfortunately age gets us all. Her drunken walking didn’t stop her from eating, however. When she stops eating I know things are really bad.

For visiting writers: how is the writing going? For all visitors: do you like a routine or do you thrive on the unexpected?

A few months ago I couldn’t figure out why the dog’s water dish was always empty. It’s a heavy china dish and our dog doesn’t tip it over, yet no matter how many times I filled it up, the water seemed to vanish. Being a writer I immediately thought of fairies and tiny folk, but no, the answer was much more mundane.

I happened to hear a kaffuffle outside. It wasn’t Scotty since she was asleep in her basket. When I peered out the window I saw a thrush standing in the middle of the water bowl, madly flapping its wings and having a fine old time. Water was shooting in all directions. After a while the thrush jumped out and flew off. Almost immediately a blackbird jumped in for a bath. That’s right – they were queuing up to take a bath in the dog’s water dish. Mystery solved. The birds wait until our dog comes inside then they perch on the outdoor furniture, waiting their turn to take a bath. When they’ve finished there’s hardly any water in the bowl and all the pavers in the surrounding area are wet. The birds have become quite cheeky, even taking a bath while the dog is sleeping a few feet away, and I’ve become resigned to my new job as pool attendant.

Ellora’s Cave author, Wylie Kinson is holding a special competition, involving photos and angels, to celebrate the upcoming release of her book Law of Averages. Check out all the details here.

Oops! I’m in BIG trouble. Mr. Munro has just arrived home from work and I didn’t notice his haircut. He always notices mine – in fact he usually rings me and tells me I look beautiful. In my defence I tell him I’m going to have my hair done, so he has a chance to remember. He springs his haircuts on me without warning. I must try to do better next time…