Author Archive: Helen

About Helen

I'm a Southern California living in South Florida. I've been here for 10 years as of October 1, 2007. No matter where I live, I'm a dog lover, and my breed is the Dobermann Pinscher of the Working Group. I am also fond of the Australian Shepherd of the Herding Group. My life revolves around my dogs, which is something those family members of mine don't understand. So I'm an island in that respect, but have built friendships with those who are doggie lovers and respect the canine as much as I do. Some do rescue, some train in, compete in, and judge AKC trials. The common thread is our dogs are family.

Ginger’s Journey

Pippin and Helen

Pippin and Hlen

chauffered the gorgeous Ginger

Gorgeous Ginger

up Alligator Alley

Alligator Alley North

to the rest stop…

Rest stop visitor

to meet Amy.

Amy greets Pippin

Then the lovely Ginger

Lovely Ginger

changed cars and Amy bid Pippin adieu. Amy is very fond of Pippin.

Amy bids adieu to Pippin

Then Amy, who is also fond of Ginger, chauffered our red sweetie to the end of Ginger’s journey. Ginger will stay in a house with very loving people and other loving Dobies over night until her appointment in the morning for x-ray and hopefully surgery. If the x-ray shows cancer, no surgery. So we are hoping and praying no cancer!

Pippin sat in the front seat on the way back down

Pippin on the way home

Alligator Alley

Alligator Alley South

till we got home. Then everyone who didn’t go was very happy to see Pippin and Helen, and wondered where Ginger was. After explaining that Ginger would be home tomorrow, everyone got very hungry. An hour later, dinner was served by Chef Helen.

But one bowl was empty for this night. And it’s only one night, but it’s a very lonely bowl and a lonely space where our Ginger sleeps and fills our hearts.

Good night Ginger. See you tomorrow.

Thank you Amy and Jude.

Ginger and Jude

Prayers for Ginger

Ginger is a beautiful 8-year-old red Dobie girl, who I pulled from the euthanasia room in a south Florida shelter in December of 2005. Her former owner was going blind, and had to relinquish Ginger, another Dobie named Dutchess, and a Dalmatian. The woman took all their crates, paperwork, toys, food, all doggy paraphanalia to the shelter and was told the dogs would not be pts. (put to sleep) The Dalmatian was pts shortly after she left. Dutchess, a lovely black-and-tan female with stand-up ears was adopted. Ginger, a red girl with cropped ears that flopped, was not. I found out about her in the nick of time.

The shelter rescue volunteer at the time was good enough to give me the phone number of the former owner, at the former owner’s request, so I could get information on Ginger. Ginger had been vaccinated to extremes throughout the years she’d been with the woman and the vet who “took care of her dogs.” Unfortunately, he didn’t convince the woman to spay either of her Doberman girls, and I don’t know about the male Dalmatian.

What struck me as funny at the time I spoke to the woman was Ginger had been a hair away from being pts, and the woman groaned when I spoke to her about spaying. Ginger would be the last of that line, she protested. Ginger almost crossed the line, I thought.

Both females had huge cysts and being Dutchess was adopted out we didn’t know about hers until she showed up at the shelter again, around 8 months later, still not spayed. Another friend and rescue person took Dutchess and cared for her until she was ready to be adopted. I, on the other hand, do not foster well. You see, fostering entails the following: bring a Dobie into your house, love, feed, get to know her…mend her, work with her manners, snuggle, pet and commisserate with her. Then you are supposed to hand her over to a stranger who you only get to know from filling out an application and checking references of vets and other strangers, though sometimes you are lucky enough to get a person who’s a referral. Some of these Dobies come in very broken. Malnurished, skiddish, never having been loved, molded, or felt the touch of a loving hand. Others are so full of themselves, and have energy that has been bottled up for months or years, they spin right into your heart while you are trying to harness some of that energy into getting them to be productive members of canince society.

Fixing broken Dobies takes a big piece of heart. Some people are very good at doing this and some are not. Some people are very good at doing this and at placing the Dobie. Some people are very good at doing this and because it feels like tearing your heart out when placing the Dobie, don’t place the Dobie. I fall into that last category. Though I have been able to place Dobies, espeically one named Mocha, and a few others who I just somehow could do that at the time. These days, I have pretty much retired to the fact that I yam what I yam…

Ginger

…and figure out what goes over my threshhold, oftens stays over it. That is as long as the Dobie fits in.

Well, Ginger is a very lovely lovely lovely Dobie, and I just adore her. She’s cute and red and has validated the only other red Dobie I had at the time she arrived. He came in skin and bones and had many severe experiences on the street that he still won’t talk about with me. But that’s another story to tell another time. Ginger brought that boy to life and has a special place in my heart and our family. Many family members think of Ginger as their confidante.

Ginger’s a confidante

Ginger had a breast removed and her lumps removed when she arrived. She was spayed at six, which is late. And now I am facing the consequences of decisions made in Ginger’s former life. I’ve grown to love Ginger, and so has the rest of my family. Ginger’s lumps have grown back, and perhaps they are cancer. The vet thinks maybe, because they have grown along one side of her body along the lymp node line, it is cancer. Right side.

Ginger’s lumps

However, she did have one aspirated and it is clear. So I hold out hope. Thursday, she’ll have an x-ray, and if nothing looks suspicious on it, she will have these lumps removed.

So again, I ask for prayers, this time for a beautiful Doberchild named Ginger. She deserves a good thing because she is a beautiful soul.

Beautiful Ginger

Raven’s Pail

Raven’s made me think outside the box…the vocal box, that is. I’ve used my voice to try to quiet her down, but I have found a very simple instrument that helps tremendously and doesn’t require straining my vocal chords. It’s a drinking pail and a butter knife. Clank clank clank!

Raven’s ding-a-linging pail

When Raven is screaming in her crate, I clang the knife in the pot, and she doesn’t like that. Frankly, I don’t either, but it works better than squirting her or screaming my lungs out. And when I open the back door to let her out now, I use my new hallowed drum, and it not only keeps Raven at bay till I am ready to let her out, it keeps everyone else in order. No more crowding the door! No more knocking the human over!

Mark one for Helen today!

Lily back home

Lily came back home today, and is back to being a princess.

Princess Lily

And things are happening the way they should be happening once again.

We have a delivery

We have a picture of what was dropped out here, but nothing in it contains a rawhide or obstruction-like material. The mystery remains.