Yankee Doodle Noodle

May 18, 2014 had marked the fifth anniversary of the passing of our beloved Yankee.

May 18, 2009 Our last day

Comfort to a new rescue

Our Yankee was one of those dogs who was just at the right place at the right time.
Turned over to the humane society at 8 months his outcome could have so easily turned out differently.

 We came into his world on day eight of his stay and were told he was scheduled to be euthanized the next day due to lack of space.
Probably due to no fault of his own he was supposedly given up because his previous owners hadn't the time for him.

It amazes me how the behavior of a dog is often its death sentence and a relief for the owners to be rid of the "problem" when so many issues could have been avoided with proper guidance.
The definition of discipline is guidance and supervision not punishment. A dog's home and the people in it are his entire world so of course all they want is to please and be loved.

It was obvious from day one with Yankee that he had very inconsistent training. The only thing he was confident about was he knew his name, so we didn't make an attempt to change that and confuse him any further.

Though his paperwork said he was housebroken he obviously was not. So where was he for eight months, tied to a box when no one was home? A quick learner we got through that without too much trouble.

He was what is called damaged goods. You know how when a person talks they sometimes move their hands around? Imagine how sad it was when we realized what was happening below. There was this dog cowering with squinting eyes. Now what was done to him in his short life?! He never really got over that instinctive reaction to sudden arm movements near his face.
I have a feeling he snapped at someone's child and that was the last straw. He couldn't be trusted around other people's children which was so very annoying whenever we had company. He had to be away from the action as well as us and this always resulted in a very sad, distraught dog.

He was around five years old till he finally listened without it being a deal. He came when called and got over that game of running away when we approached him. Maybe it took that long for him to really believe we weren't going to hit him when he did come back.

At the age of three we adopted a puppy from our son's preschool friend. That little dog, Smudge, was the happiest little girl. Yankee adored her and they spent every waking moment together. Dogs are not meant to be alone and it is wonderful when a large part of their lives isn't spent just waiting for their owners to return.

We knew from Yankee's first vet check-up that we may have to deal with joint problems later in life. His one back leg was a bit straighter at the elbow joint than the other one. We managed to keep him at an acceptable weight to prevent undue strain on the joints, however wear and tear on his hip joints from hip dysplasia slowed him down by age ten.

Herbal supplements, massage and finally the drug Procardia kept him going for two more years.
We prayed we wouldn't have to play God and decide when his time with us would end. It was heartbreaking to watch how anxious he would get when he couldn't get up fast enough to get outside and realized he soiled himself in the house. By the end he was in diapers not just at night but all the time, so if I wasn't right there to help him up at least he wasn't laying in a mess.

Our most heartbreaking day was May 18, 2009 when he could no longer hold his weight at all. Moments like that become surreal and we just go through the motions of what has to be done.
Thinking back on the days when Yankee could do backflips against the door and fly across the lawn with agility, it would be selfish on my part to let him live in a body that has become a prison.

Happy times