Remembered
You belong among the wildflowers,
You belong on a boat out at sea
Far away from your trouble and worries,
You belong somewhere you feel free.
Our dear Bebe passed away on Monday, February 2. Eric used to sing that song
to her, because we felt like on some level she was always longing to run free.
When she died, I imagined her bounding away across a beautiful open field,
her tail flying out in the breeze, until she finally disappeared into the
distance.
Especially at the beginning, she was like a polite houseguest who never
bothers to unpack her suitcase, because she knows she'll be going home soon.
Some part of her was always waiting. The first month or so, she'd camp out
near the front door all day, and if you opened it, she'd bolt. A couple of
times in the short 22 months she was with us, she spotted a youngish tall guy
(different guy, same general appearance) across the street and pulled toward
him with all her strength; once she even popped her collar to get there. The
joy and excitement on her face just broke my heart. I think she was always
looking for dad.
She had a real thing for the railroad tracks and we used to joke that she was
a hobo in a former life and wanted to ride the rails with a little knapsack
over her shoulder. We had only had her for a few days and she was still
sporting an E-collar the first time she got out & hotfooted it. My poor hubby
set off in pursuit still in his PJs, shoes untied, and nabbed her just as she
was speeding past the stop sign and heading for the tracks & MoPac beyond. If
not for the wind resistance created by the E-collar, we would have lost her
then and there. Eric toted her home. He looked like a thundercloud but Bebe
had a delighted expression on her little face, like that was the best fun she
had had in ages. The other time she escaped was when painters left the back
gate open. She took off across the yard and down the access trail by the
railroad. I was at the other end of the house and heard Eric shouting and ran
out. The painter told me the dog had headed down the street with Eric after
her, so, seeing nothing, I jumped in the car and drove off in the wrong
direction (typical). I returned home in great distress, having found nobody.
No words can express my relief when I came back indoors and found Bebe
contentedly lying in front of the sliding glass doors with her typical
post-escapade self-satisfied look. I still can't believe we got her back. Eric
had chased her for a while, but when he stopped running after her, she turned
around and trotted back to him.
Bebe was collected as a stray
in San Antonio with a horrific injury, likely from being hit by a car; one
front leg had the skin and fur peeled right off, with the tendons exposed. The
shelter released her early so she could get medical attention. When she came
to us she still had her leg all bound up and was wearing an E-collar, as she
didn't care for the bandage and kept trying to remove it. She was also
storm-phobic, which we discovered on that first night. In her panic, she went
running around the house three-legged, knocking things over with her
E-collar, panting, looking for a way out. Finally I took off the E-collar and
figured I'd just watch her. Some hope! Naturally I passed out just long enough
for Bebe to rip off her bandages. I woke up to find her with the tape hanging
off in tatters and the leg a bloody mess. I made an hysterical 6 A. M. phone
call to Suzette, who was forced to "talk me down"-thank you, Suzette!! It so
happened that this all occurred on the day I was supposed to start my pharmacy
tech practicum at a local Walgreens, but I postponed it by a week so that we
could take Bebe to Hiway 620 & get her taken care of. (Later I decided that
Bebe was just trying to tell me that retail pharmacy was not the job for me,
because when I did start working at the Walgreens, I hated it.) Anyway, she
was a big hit at Hiway 620, where she spent a couple of days getting leg
wraps, hydrotherapy, and other spa treatments. I always loved the way she was
so good with vets. She seemed to know they were trying to help her and you
never met a more tractable dog. She would offer her mangled leg and just stare
into space while it was examined. She was the most stoic dog I ever met, and
for a Golden, that is saying a lot.
The leg healed up great. The
ankle joint wouldn't bend but to see Bebe pursuing squirrels and attempting
to climb trees, you'd never have known anything was the matter. She was a
smartie. She ran in straight lines and did not try to "cut" on the unbendable
joint. The T-storm phobia didn't get better, though. One time she even
cleared the back cyclone fence in the middle of the night after a loud crash
of thunder and wound up in the opposite backyard, where she fell into the
swimming pool. Poor Bebe! After that we never let her outside in stormy
weather for potty breaks without a leash on. Anyway, we tried this and that.
First we gave her Xanax. This rendered her glassy-eyed but that was about it.
After that we tried Rescue Remedy, which seemed to help a little. We also
bought "Through a Dog's Ear," a CD of soothing music: classical pieces played
at a tempo so slow that I don't know how the pianist stayed upright for the
recording-there's time to make a grilled cheese sandwich between each note and
the next. We'd put it on at dinnertime and give the dogs a Kong, since you are
supposed to make sure the music is associated with pleasant events. Soon Eric
and I were facedown in our lasagna while the dogs happily enjoyed their treat.
Well, at least we know it works on people! Ultimately the only thing that
really helped Bebe was for me to get up and bring her into the guest bedroom.
I'd put up all the breakables, open the blinds, turn on the outside lights so
she could see what was happening (storms were much worse for her at night),
close the door, and just let her run around the room. Eventually she'd jump on
the bed, get between my body and the wall, and fall asleep.
Shortly after we got her she
had a couple of unsightly lipomas removed. She had a bad reaction to the
anesthetic and nearly died: her pulse disappeared; then, as the staff
frantically worked to revive her, her heart rate rocketed dangerously and had
to be brought down; then, as she was finally coming to, she had a seizure. By
the time we picked her up from Griffith, however, she was looking perfectly
cheerful, but Dr Tan definitely had a few new gray hairs. The very next day
Bebe went into heat! So much for that "spay scar" several vets said they had
seen. When we took Bebe to Griffith to get her lumpectomy stitches out, I told
Dr Tan that she'd be putting Bebe under again soon to spay her. Poor Dr Tan! I
thought she was going to faint. As it happened our own vet, Dr J, did the
surgery using a different anesthetic and Bebe sailed right through. While in
heat she was terribly flirtatious and made advances to the most obnoxious dog
in the neighborhood, a SharPei named "Buddy." This was the only time I ever
saw our Beebers evidence poor taste.
Bebe was not your usual Golden
Retriever. She was an oddball and I loved her for it. She was a solemn dog who
often had a thoughtful look on her face. We used to call her "Bebe,
International Woman of Mystery." It was perfect! In the morning she would jump
on the bed for a pet but instead of looking at you and wagging her tail, she'd
stare straight at the wall with her typical poker face. However, if you
stopped petting her, she'd give a tiny glance to the side and conk you with
her paw. You could roll her on her back and pet her and she'd just lie
completely still with her paws in the air and that sober expression. It
cracked me up. She didn't like to open her mouth for a dental exam, but again,
she'd never growl or act ugly. Instead, she'd just lock her jaws and assume
her noncommittal air. It was so funny! She was a counter surfer, but only
sporadically, which guaranteed that she never had an unsuccessful raid.
Several crime-free months would pass, until you had relaxed your guard, and
then you would come out to the kitchen to find her finishing up the half-pizza
that was supposed to be YOUR dinner! Scolding her never had an effect. She
would just give her cool, bland look, as if to say, "What's your problem?" One
time she managed to remove the lid from a casserole dish, eat half the
contents, and then replace the lid. I never did figure out how she did that.
She loved coffee (with cream and sugar, please) and "Bebe, Coffee Achiever!"
was another one of her pet names. She'd drink it right out of any unattended
cup that was close to snout level.
We suspect that Bebe used to be a yard dog. She liked to hang out in the yard
by herself, just watching the world, and she made herself a trench near the
foundation. She had several "blinds" under trees where she would lurk and
watch squirrels. She was a lot smarter than Mulder and Darla, who chase their
prey up a tree and then stand there barking madly. Uh, guys? I think the
squirrel knows you are there! Bebe, however, waited patiently until a hapless
rodent got close, and then exploded out from her lair and gave chase.
Bebe loved to play keep away and she was a real pro at head fakes and feints.
When she wanted to play, she would poke her head just inside the sliding glass
door and give a meaningful stare. If you tried to get her to come in, she'd
back up, collect a toy, and continue to stare fixedly until you gave in. She
would prance up and down like a bucking bronco, shaking the toy furiously. She
was so cute! It was very hard to catch her.
In the middle of December, a lump popped up on Bebe's shoulder. The aspirate
looked suspicious, so we had the lump removed right away. The lab couldn't
figure out what it was, but classified it as benign. However, she never really
came back all the way from the surgery, and a couple of weeks later Eric
noticed a lump in her abdomen. She had an ultrasound on January 19. There was
cancer throughout her body. She got a steroid shot, and that made her feel
much better for a ten days or so; then her appetite vanished again and she
began to have spells of back-end weakness and irregular heartbeat. But she
kept wanting to go for walks. It was incredible. To see her trotting along,
you would never have known how sick she was. Then she'd come home, lie down,
and not move for hours.
A few days before she passed
away, I sat on the floor petting her and talking to her. She gazed into my
face for several long minutes. She looked beautiful, wise, and, of course,
mysterious. I wish I knew what she was trying to tell me then. I told her that
we all loved her, but that if she had to go, we would understand. The very day
she died, she went on a 40-minute walk. She pulled away in the other direction
when we tried to get her to come home. When we talked about it later, we
decided that maybe this was her way of telling us that her time with us was at
its end and she was ready to move on.
When I read this over, it
doesn't really express what a truly wonderful dog Bebe was. I felt such a
connection with her. She was very affectionate in her quiet way. When I'd be
out in the yard with the dogs I'd sit on the edge of the raised beds. Bebe
would run over, bump her head lightly against my chest, stand there for a few
moments, and then go off about her business again. Oh, how I wish she were
here today, resting her head on my knee as I type. But I like to think that
wherever she is, she is running free, and she has found everyone she loved so
much in the past. Until we meet again, I will have to make do with that.
Bebe
In early March, Animal Control picked up a wandering girl Golden. Noted on her
“receiving” documents: “Female stray, large, brown, injured, no license.” And at
the bottom of the page: “Dog transported to GRR vet due to declining health.”
Our
wonderful Miss Bebe had been brought to the pound with a “degloving” injury of
her left front leg. That’s just as nasty as it sounds: strips of skin and fur
were pulled right off, as if a glove had been turned inside out as it was
removed. Best guess is that she was struck a glancing blow by a car, but she
could have tangled with a weed eater, or got stuck in something and hurt herself
yanking free, or…? The shelter bandaged her and gave pain meds and antibiotics,
but after a day, it was clear that she needed more help than they could provide,
so she got her “get out of jail free” pass and headed to the hospital.
The GRR vets found three wounds running down and around Bebe’s leg. On two of
them, it was possible to stitch the loose strips of skin back in place. The
third one was bigger and deeper, and the skin could not be saved. That one just
had to heal over on its own. And it has! Bebe spent about three weeks in
bandages and a bit longer than that wearing the dreaded E-collar (she and her
vets did not always have the same opinion about appropriate wound care!), but
now, about 2 months after the injury, all the wounds are healed up. Bebe will
always have scars, and the ankle joint is still pretty stiff and swollen
looking, but she hardly limps, and she loves her walks and can chase squirrels
with the best of them! Each time the vets see her, they say, “Wow! She is doing
GREAT! She looks better and better!” And day by day, she is gaining more
flexibility in her ankle joint and paw.
Bebe
is such a sweetheart! She is a medium-gold girl with big paws, thoughtful amber
eyes, and cute fringy ears that stick out slightly from her head. Our vet
commented on her slightly short ears and then said, “But they look really good
on her!” That made us laugh – images of Bebe trying on various pairs of ears at
the department store: “Hmm, these are a bit too long… don’t think so… and these
are way too short… but THESE are perfect!”
She is at her ideal weight of 61 pounds, and she’s a real athlete who can bound
across the yard like a jackrabbit and prance like a show pony. Indoors, though,
she is very calm. As I type this, she is snoring in her favorite place against
the bookcase in my office, with her head resting comfortably on a pile of papers
that I am supposed to be working on, but how could I be so rude as to remove her
“pillow”? She isn’t a total “velcro” dog, but she does follow you from room to
room. (That includes the bathroom, so alert your houseguests that they are going
to have a canine lavatory attendant if they aren’t careful.) When I was
suffering from flu recently and in bed one day, Nurse Bebe decided to keep me
company and serve as a furry hot-water bottle at the same time. She’s a very
considerate girl!
Bebe
is totally housebroken. She doesn’t do any damage in the house, and she is left
free to roam when we aren’t here. She completely ignores our cat, although the
litter pan and the cat food dishes are something else again… (covered litter
pans to the rescue!). She gets along great with our two other Goldens. They
don’t really play with each other, but Bebe and Darla (GRR #06-095) are great
squirrel-chasing buddies and tend to run around the yard side by side pursuing
those pesky rodents. You will often see two fluffy rear ends diving into the
shrubbery side by side, or you’ll see both girls standing on their hind legs on
either side of the mesquite tree, staring up into the branches. When they get
tired, they lie down side by side on the patio, keeping watch. This is very
cute!
Bebe just loves to sleep on the bed with you, but she is polite and waits for
you to pat the bed and say “OK” before she lightly jumps up. The one exception
is during storms! Like many Goldens, Bebe is storm-phobic. She gets anxious and
jumps on the bed and stands there panting, and then runs nervously around the
house, and then jumps on the bed again, and so on. Storms at night are a lot
scarier than daytime ones, but I’ve noticed that she is a little less less
distressed since she finally got rid of that annoying E-collar. We do have
anti-anxiety meds on hand to help her settle down, though.
When she first showed up, she didn’t show much interest in toys, but now she
loves to toss her plushies in the air, pounce on them, and play “keep away.”
Once you catch her, she is very agreeable about letting you have the plushie,
though.
We
soon found out she knows SIT like a champ, and she also knows DOWN pretty well.
If you tap your chest lightly she will jump up and put her paws on you and wag
her tail and give a big smile! STAY is coming along, but COME is definitely a
work in progress! The one other thing that really needs work is leash walking.
Miss Bebe is as strong as an entire sled team, pulls like a train on lead. She
is a clever girl and knows just how to lean backwards and toss her head to back
out of a flat nylon collar, so we NEVER take her out the front door without a
prong collar on. You could use a martingale, a Gentle Leader, or a halter,
too—but something that she can’t wiggle out of is really essential. She is an
escape artist, to boot—the first week she was here, she actually knocked open a
locked screen door (wearing her E-collar!!) and took off at warp speed down the
street, with my poor hubby (still in his PJs) in hot pursuit. Now that she has
been here for nearly 6 weeks, she hasn’t tried THAT stunt again, but I still
don’t trust her. (: I do think a few lessons with a pro would soon have her
walking like a champ by your side instead of charging ahead.
Bebe would love a home where she got lots of walks, and a secure fenced yard
with locked gates where she can run after squirrels full tilt is a must (yes,
she knows how to push up gate latches with her nose)! She would love to come to
work with you, too, and she’s so well behaved that she wouldn’t be any trouble
at all! So far she is a very quiet dog – in all this time, we have hardly heard
her bark more than a few times.
Wherever she goes, this lovely girl will need time to settle in and feel like
she belongs, but once she does, you will wonder how you ever lived without her!
Update 5/13/07
Bebe continues to feel great! Her leg is looking really good.
So why the medical hold? Nothing serious... it's just that about ten days ago,
she shocked all of us by going into heat. A couple of the vets who examined her
when she came into care had thought they saw a spay scar -- apparently it was
just an optical illusion. She'll need to finish her heat cycle (which typically
lasts around three weeks), wait two or three weeks after that, and then have
spay surgery & recuperate from that. And then she'll be available for the
perfect forever home
View Pictures Here