SAVE-A-VET: Remembering the Other Forgotten Soldier

BY CHERESE COBB, FREELANCER

For four years, Department of State (DOS) Agent Paddy worked as an Explosive Ordnance Division Technician at the U.S. Embassy in Kabul, Afghanistan. When Danny Scheurer and the rest of his unit went to clear a building, he leaped from an SUV and dashed to the door. “We tried to run,” Danny remembers. “But the guys in the back — because they didn’t have radio silence or a [military] dog—breached the building. It blew up.”

While serving their country, both Danny and Paddy were injured. Danny was given a 70 percent disability rating. “I received VA medical care, options for schooling, paid training for employment and multiple other perks for serving my country.” However, Paddy was labeled unsuitable for typical retirement. Because of former aggression, he was slated to be put down.

“How’s that for a soldier who serves?” Danny says. Dogs have been officially serving as four-legged soldiers in the U.S. military since World War I (1914-1918). Approximately 5,000 military working dogs (MWDs) served in the Vietnam War. They saved nearly 10,000 human lives. (The U.S. Army didn’t keep records before 1968). MWDs also took part in the takedown of Taliban leader Osama bin Laden and ISIS leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi.

There are around 2,500 MWDs in service today and 700 deployed overseas. “Imagine hearing both stories, while not aware that Paddy is a canine,” he says. “Most people’s reaction would be anger, concern or consternation regarding a veteran being denied retirement due to atypical retirement qualifications.”

That’s where Save-A-Vet in Lindenhurst, Ill., comes in. Danny started the nonprofit to rescue canines that aren’t adoptable because of their attack training, field experiences or physical and mental injuries—including post-traumatic stress disorder and traumatic brain injuries that may cause dogs to barely blink or eat.

“Unlike a lot of agencies, the DOS truly cares about their K9s and reached out to Save-A-Vet asking us to take him [Paddy] into our program,” Danny says. “I’m very happy they did this as he’s now one of our most loveable K9s and the new mascot of the organization.”

The English Springer Spaniel loves all animals and people. He usually can be found claiming all of the office couches or stuffing tennis balls under their cushions. “He’s got about 150 balls everywhere. He constantly has one in his mouth,” Danny says.

“We don’t have a normal shelter because we don’t foster.” Instead, Save-A-Vet puts K9s in secured facilities throughout the country. It also hires disabled military or law enforcement officers to care for its dogs in exchange for rent-free housing. They’re randomly drug tested. “They must be able to pass a background check and either be employed or attending school full-time with a minimum of a B average,” Danny says. “It’s not a free handout. You wake up at 6 a.m. and take care of my dog. If it’s not being fed at 6 a.m., you’re fired.”

Save-A-Vet is a place of mutual healing between two-legged and four-legged veterans. Ornella, for example, was retired from Homeland Security’s U.S. Customs and Border Protection Agency (CBP) because she started eating her own tail. “When we fixed her, it was allergies. The veterinarian figured out that she probably had gotten into drugs.”

Her sharp nose served our country’s borders for two years. Her handler CBP Officer Shawn Johnson says, “She possesses those qualities and energies that make a successful drug detector dog a smuggler’s worst fear.” In 2014, she suffered a fatal heart attack. “The veterinarians tried CPR, but she wasn’t able to pull through,” Danny says. “Although Ornella has passed, we’re happy to have given her what I can only imagine have been the best two years of her life.”

Public donations and Made in America companies such as Basecamp and the Travel & Adventure Show power Save-A-Vet, which cost nearly $81,000 to run last year, even with seven unpaid, full-time staffers. “When we put out that we need volunteers, we typically have a couple hundred people show up,” Danny says. “We have volunteers all over the country.”

Save-A-Vet doesn’t take dogs from civilians or rehome their K9s. (Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, Texas, handles all MWDs adoptions.) “With Save-A-Vet’s leadership, military canines became veterans after decades of being categorized as equipment,” says Randi Scheurer who is Danny’s father and the nonprofit’s photographer.

Nero is a former Navy bomb dog. He had two discs in his back fused together and a golf ball-sized lump removed from his jaw, but he was never caged. Firemen, cops and construction workers would drop by his house every morning to bring him bacon. “He was Danny’s constant companion until the end,” Randi says. During Nero’s final days, Danny laid with him in the back of a van—wrapping his arms tightly around him, making another forgotten soldier’s “golden years” golden.

For more information, visit saveavet.org or call 815-349-9647.

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THE HYDRANT: TK’s Story

BY MICHELLE SEROCKI, FREELANCER

I have a dog that doesn’t like to be touched. His name is TK. I have no idea why he was named that, but I pretend it’s short for Taco King. He’s got spicy taco pajamas now to prove that’s what it means. He loves the jammies that came with his new life, and I love that he makes my life new. However, I must constantly remind friends and family of his aversion to being pet.

We traveled to an overwhelmed shelter in Chattanooga, Tenn., for two dogs, TK and Ms. Pocket. When I arrived at McKamey Animal Center, I was met by a very friendly and slightly frazzled worker. It was obvious she loved her job and the animals involved despite the visible stress displayed on her face. She gave my friend and me the dime tour of their quite spacious and uncommonly clean shelter, at least compared to what I was used to seeing around the country. They had sufficient adoption space for animals to meet potential families and ample outdoor play yards, both grassy and concrete, created for different uses. It was really quite nice, which helped me to convince myself that things were a little better for the hundreds of homeless animals contained within.

TK and Ms. Pocket had been sharing a kennel run because TK was shutting down until they tried the buddy system. It worked like a charm and made their long shelter stay more bearable. This was TK’s fourth time at the “Animal Control Hotel.” His parents had frequent run-ins with the law, and while they went to jail, TK would be dropped off at the shelter. This particular stay lasted four months. This time, instead of being picked up when his parents got out of jail, he was signed over, no longer wanted by anyone.

The staff knew that we were coming, so they moved TK and Ms. Pocket into wire crates until our arrival. That way their run could be used for other dogs with no place to go. These two dogs couldn’t have been more different. Their brindle brown coats were about all they had in common. Ms. Pocket was pocket-sized as her name suggests. Her ears stood tall and were, by far, the biggest part of her body. She wiggled and wagged so hard at the sight of her rescuers that her whole crate moved. TK stood tall and although thin, he probably almost doubled Ms. Pocket’s weight. His ears were cut off low and the tops were all scar tissue, the result of years and year of flies biting at them. I moved a foot toward TK’s crate, expecting the same sweet welcome I had gotten a moment ago from his girlfriend but instead received a low, barely audible growl. He froze and glared at me from the corner of his eye. I backed off and knew at that moment this guy had been through some things.

It’s unusual in rescue to have an accurate and lengthy backstory. Many animals are strays with a completely unknown past. Others belong to people like TK did, but they typically don’t share information over years of drop-offs and pick-ups. We know TK’s birthday is 7/30/11. We know the first 7 years of his life were lonely. The reason is unclear, but it’s known that he was kept on a chain in the yard for the entirety of his life. You might think that this meant he enjoyed visiting McKamey where he was offered shelter and human interaction, but that was not his reality. Being confined to a space much smaller than a yard and surrounded by humans would have been very stressful. His anxiety came out in unwanted behaviors like growling, pacing, shaking and lack of appetite.

TK has been home with me now for a little over a year. I love animal behavior and rehabilitation, so I decided to foster him and see what we could learn and accomplish together. His trust issues abounded, and his lack of human handling made physical touch aversive to him. It took months for us to build enough of a bond and positive association with touch for him to tolerate it from me. He’s still incredibly hand-shy, and his skin jumps unless you tell him you’re going to touch him and do it ever so slowly. He solicits interaction with people and enjoys their company while sitting by them, but that’s where he draws the line. It’s by far harder on people than it is on him. He’s so handsome and sweet, and everyone just wants to love on him.

He wants to love back, and together we think we’ve found a way.

I’m excited to announce that TK’s taking over writing The Hydrant in 2020 to share his perspective on dog-related stories.

He’s excited to be part of your lives in this way. Please join TK this coming year to experience his adventures, friends and firsts as an official FETCH writer!

(column)

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Chinese Shar-Pei: A Wrinkly Wonder

BY CHERESE COBB, FREELANCER

Pepper was black, short and chunky. The one-year-old Shar-Pei looked like a baby hippo. She had mange and infected ears. Chained outside in the heat, she stunk badly. Her owners wanted to euthanize her. But there was something special about her. Kathy Baily, the president of Shar-Pei Savers in Genoa, Ohio, adopted Pepper and trained her to be a therapy dog. (Next year, she’ll be 12 years old.) Independent, regal, alert and dignified: Is this wrinkly wonder right for you?

History

The Shar-Pei most likely originated in the small fishing village of Tai Li in southeastern China during the Han Dynasty (206 BCE-220 CE). While Marco Polo’s journal, published in 1271, only mentions Pugs and Chow Chows, a translation of a 13th-century Chinese manuscript refers to a dog with a “sandpaper-like coat” and a blue-black tongue.

Chinese farmers used Shar-Peis for hunting, herding and guarding their livestock. Following the establishment of the People’s Republic of China as a communist nation, Shar-Peis were declared upper-class luxuries and were virtually wiped out. During this period, a handful was smuggled into Hong Kong and Taiwan.They were crossbred with Tibetan Mastiffs, Chow Chows, Great Pyrenees, Bulldogs and Boxers.

In April 1973, Matgo Law, owner of Down-Homes Kennel in Hong Kong, begged U.S. dog fanciers to “save the Shar-Pei.” Then the “Guinness Book of World Records” proclaimed the Chinese Fighting Dog the rarest dog breed on Earth. Commercially-minded breeders pumped out litters as quickly as impulsive buyers could pull out their credit cards. By the mid-’80s, the Shar-Pei craze died down.

Clowning Around

On April 1, 2018, Jineen McLemore-Torres adopted Jameson from Shar-Pei Savers. At three months old, he hadn’t opened his eyes. “He had a visible cherry eye, and we believe the breeder who surrendered him was unable to sell him,” she says.

“Jameson was initially a medical foster, but my female Shar Pei Jade and I both fell in love with him,” Jineen says. When he’s not lounging on his favorite bed or digging in the mud, he’s running full speed into the couch, without even trying to jump up on it. “When I was playing with him last…he threw himself on the ground, making a loud thump, rolled on to his back, legs in the air and expected a belly rub while nibbling on my hands.”

His stubbornness always rears its ugly head whenever he’s at the store or an event. If he doesn’t want to leave, he plops down on his side or back and refuses to move. “Everyone thinks it’s hilarious, but it doesn’t feel funny when it’s happening to me,” she admits.

Whenever you try to teach a Shar-Pei a new trick without his favorite treats (ahem…antlers), he’ll throw shade at you. While Jameson is a bit lazy, he earned his AKC Star Puppy certification when he was under a year old. Jineen recently began teaching him to shake hands and give high five. “I thought it’d be at least a week of short sessions,” she says, “but at the end of a 10-minute session, he was throwing his paw up.”

Health

“The joke in the Shar-Pei world is, if you’re not willing to spend thousands on your dog for healthcare, don’t get a Shar-Pei,” Kathy says. Shar-Peis are prone to familial Shar-Pei fever (FSF), which causes fever, temporary joint pain and swelling. It can lead to polyarthritis, liver failure and kidney failure.

“There’s no cure for FSF; only supportive care,” says Dr. Erin Wilson from Spring Harbor Animal Hospital in Madison, Wis. “Owners should talk to their family vet about keeping pain medications or non-steroidal anti-inflammatories on hand for painful flare-ups. They should also learn how to take their Shar-Peis’ temperatures, as prolonged elevated body temperature may require hospitalization and IV fluids.”

Shar-Peis are also susceptible to skin infections, eye problems (like retinal dysplasia or glaucoma) and bloat, which is a potentially fatal twisting of the stomach that requires immediate surgical treatment. “We’ve also found that dogs with a horse coat will tend to get kind of a smell to them,” Baily says. “They sleep in a ball, so their bellies tend to get stinky.” Use a baby wipe or gentle shampoo.

While Shar-Peis don’t require a lot of exercise, a sweater or jacket may be needed during the worst of the winter months. “During summertime, walking should be limited to early mornings or evenings when the weather is cooler,” Dr. Wilson says.

Should You Adopt a Shar-Pei?

Shar-Peis don’t show well in shelter settings. When people walk by their cages, they either shrink back or start to bark. “People see that side of them and think, ‘I don’t want a dog like that,’” Kathy says. But Shar-Peis are extremely intelligent and devoted to their families. They slowly warm up to strangers but generally are great once you get to know them. “They are very clean dogs and housetrain very young…and they give the best hippo kisses.”

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Hard Truths: Vets & Suicide

BY KERRI WIEDMEYER, DVM, WVRC

It is not uncommon to think veterinary medicine consists of playing with rambunctious puppies and purring kittens. Unfortunately, these interactions are a rare highlight in what can be a grueling profession. A study published by the American Veterinary Medical Association (AVMA) in January 2019 showed that veterinarians are 3.5 times more likely to commit suicide than the general population. This may come as a shock to most people. How can someone around animals all day long be sad or depressed or have suicidal thoughts?

This increased rate of suicide in the veterinary field can partially be attributed to the personalities of those individuals who are drawn to the veterinary field. Veterinary school is a very rigorous program. Those who apply are typically very driven and hardworking, and many may even consider themselves to be perfectionists. Unfortunately, these qualities are also linked to increased personal performance standards, stress and anxiety. Veterinary school also comes with a huge financial burden, and it is not uncommon for veterinarians to be hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt after their schooling is complete.

For most veterinarians, our days consist of examining animals, assessing their problems and diagnostics, coming up with and discussing treatment options with owners, and record keeping. While that does not sound like a stressful day, it is compounded by the fact that pets cannot communicate what is wrong or where they hurt. This can add another layer of complexity and stress to the practice of veterinary medicine.

The wide range of emotional situations encountered by veterinarians on a daily basis also contributes to high suicide rates. For example, a veterinarian could be in an exam room where they had to patiently examine an overzealous, wiggly puppy, only to walk into the next exam room containing an older dog who, after examination, is found to have an abdominal mass which means a discussion of possible cancer with his owners. It can be quite the emotional rollercoaster. Breaking difficult or unexpected news to owners can be a very taxing part of the job, as is carrying out the difficult task of euthanasia. Veterinarians are trained to exude empathy and compassion in these situations, but this can take a toll over time. It may lead to an increased incidence of compassion fatigue in the field.

Client interactions also add an additional layer of stress to the profession. Often, clients will try and research symptoms on the internet and come to a presumptive diagnosis, which can lead to confusion as to why veterinarians may recommend certain diagnostics to determine the cause of their pet’s symptoms. In cases where even vast testing does not lead to a specific diagnosis, clients can become angry and frustrated that their veterinarian cannot figure out what is wrong with their pet. Long wait times at emergency facilities is another source of irritation for clients that can impact client-veterinary interactions. Clients are also typically emotionally distraught when dealing with difficult news about their pet. Sometimes, these feelings can be redirected as anger towards their veterinarian.

Finally, another reason the field has high suicide rates is that struggles with work/life balance can compound these other stressors for the veterinarian. They tend to work very long hours to accommodate clients and their pets, and they often stay longer than they’re scheduled to perform procedures, complete surgeries and finish paperwork. Over time, this increases emotional burnout that, if not corrected or treated, can increase the potential for suicidal tendencies.

When faced with feelings of suicide, unfortunately, veterinarians are also equipped with the knowledge of how to do it. They have access to anesthetic, pain and euthanasia drugs, as well the knowledge of how to combine them to be lethal; this can be used to facilitate suicide in a different or debatably easier way than the general population.

How Can You Help?

Finances are a large factor of stress for both the pet owner and the veterinarian. Owning a pet comes with its own financial burden. Vaccines, diagnostics, treatments, medications and procedures cost money, and owners should be prepared for possible costs that may occur over the years. Please keep in mind that most people do not become veterinarians for the money. It is not the lucrative job often associated with having “Dr.” before one’s name. Thus, it is unjust to think that a veterinarian is recommending a diagnostic treatment or procedure to pad their pocketbook. Payments go toward running a clinic, staff, equipment, medicine and upkeep. So having a separate emergency savings account for your pet and understanding the potential medical costs that come with pet ownership is ideal. Pet insurance is also a growing market and can be a cost effective option for routine wellness and emergency pet expenses.

Be patient. Your veterinarian is not making you wait on purpose. They are likely running around treating as many animals as efficiently as possible. This means they might not have not had lunch, gone to the bathroom or even had a drink of water.

Remember that your veterinarian is a human being who is just trying to do their job to the best of their ability. Treat them as you would want to be treated; with respect and kindness. Remember that they took an oath to do no harm, and they just want what is best for your pet. And please—the next time you talk to or see your veterinarian, say thank you. Those words mean more than you might think.

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When Childhood Dreams Come True

BY MEGAN TREMELLING, DVM, LVS

When people find out I am a veterinarian, many of them say, “Oh, I always wanted to do that!” They then go on to relate all the reasons it didn’t work out. Surprisingly, none of them have so far admitted that the reason was that they couldn’t pass organic chemistry.

The next thing they say is, “You’re so lucky! You must love it!” Well, yes and no. I feel about my job the way a parent may feel about a highly spirited toddler: I always love it, but I don’t always like it, and there are times when I wonder how long I can keep up with it.

Becoming a veterinarian is challenging, there’s no doubt about it. This is not a career you wind up in accidentally like real estate appraisal or furnace duct cleaning. It’s more of a calling than a job. Most veterinarians either knew from early childhood onward that it was their future or had some kind of epiphany later on. The process of answering that calling is long and sometimes painful. As the famous choreographer Twyla Tharp says about becoming a professional dancer, “[To devote years of your life] working very seriously, with complete commitment, for not a penny… You have to be either hopelessly passionate or very stupid.”

Getting into veterinary medical school is a challenge as there are more qualified people interested in going than there are seats available. Once you have gotten in, it is four years of very hard work to try to learn enough to take good care of every animal species on the planet except humans. It culminates in a crushing exam for licensure that not everybody passes. Tuition is a burden in most university programs; the days are long gone when a summer job could earn enough money to pay a year’s tuition and living expenses. I was fortunate enough to graduate with a debt load that was only about twice my first year’s salary. Costs have gone up since then. I regularly hear of young veterinarians graduating with $200,000 or more in student loans. Passion, it seems, has a price.

Fast forward a couple of decades, and my passion for taking care of animals hasn’t faded. Of course, there is nothing quite like the feeling of being presented with a miserable or dying pet, providing it with the skilled care to fix the problem and returning it to a grateful owner to live happily ever after. Routine care, like vaccinating puppies, doesn’t provide much excitement, but it’s still rewarding because I’ve seen what happens to the animals that don’t get that care, and it isn’t pretty. You only have to watch one puppy suffer through parvo or hear stories from the older generation who tried to treat dogs before the parvo vaccine existed to know that giving that vaccination is good and important work.

I don’t delude myself that I’m some kind of hero. I am not feeding the hungry or pulling children out of burning buildings. But I do see value in helping the critters that can’t help themselves and thereby helping the humans who love them. Pets are a source of companionship, stability and affection in a world that needs them desperately. By helping people to keep and enjoy their pets, I like to think I’m making the world a better place in my own small way.

As an emergency veterinarian, I work nights, weekends and holidays. This was my choice, and so there’s a limit to how much sympathy I can expect for it, but to be fair, somebody’s got to do it; so if I were not there at 2 am to help your pet, it would be some other veterinarian, equally sleep-deprived, over-caffeinated and vitamin D-deficient. Most veterinarians can only work nights for a couple of years before they burn out. I’ve been doing it for 20.

I enjoy problem-solving, and there is no shortage of problems at my job, but sometimes it becomes less of a fun puzzle and more of a frustrating labyrinth. There are patients that defy diagnosis. There are patients that don’t respond to treatment the way you expect them to. Living organisms are complex enough that it will never, ever be possible to know every variable in the system. This means that I am provided with ample opportunity to look like an idiot on a regular basis. The only consolation I have is that all veterinarians everywhere have the same problem. I’m in good company.

No sensible person becomes a veterinarian for the purpose of getting rich; that would be like moving to Seattle for the purpose of getting a good suntan. There are certainly veterinarians who do very well for themselves; there are also those who will never be able to scrape together enough money to buy a home or provide for a family. We could have made more money as engineers, lawyers, dentists or medical doctors. There’s no doubt about that. I have to admit that I seriously considered not going to veterinary school when I found out I could make more money as an optometrist. In my experience, optometrists are usually not working at 2 am. On the other hand, my patients are mostly cuter than humans are.

And then there are the clients. Most of them are wonderful people who want to do what’s best for their pets and appreciate my help. A few of them, sadly, seem to regard me as an obstacle rather than an ally.  Then there are always the ones who think that a Google search is an adequate substitute for four years of medical school (it isn’t) or that having owned several dogs in their lifetime provides equivalent experience to treating thousands of dogs in a career (it doesn’t). And lastly, there are those who just can’t understand why we veterinarians have to charge for our services. Unfortunately, unlike a dancer, no matter how passionate I may be, I can’t do my job for free. The tools and supplies we use cost enormous amounts of money. And ultimately, I also need to eat.

Lastly, being a veterinarian takes an emotional toll in many ways. I believe that performing euthanasia is a privilege that spares animals from suffering, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for me. I’m not a fan of having people lash out at me because I’m a handy target for their grief, guilt or frustration.There are certainly times when I wonder why I have invested years of my life, endless hard work and large sums of money all to earn the privilege of being yelled at by a client who doesn’t understand that I’m trying to help.  And I could happily go the rest of my life without ever again having to call a devoted owner in the wee hours of the night to give them heartbreaking, bad news.

Do I Like Being a Veterinarian?

Overall, yes. Would I do it again? Some days yes; some days no. There are easier paths I could have chosen. Would I recommend it to anyone else? Maybe not. For those who think they might maybe enjoy being a veterinarian, I recommend considering other options. But there are those who hear the call, who feel the passion and who are willing to make the sacrifices. You know who you are. And it can be rewarding—assuming you can pass organic chemistry.

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What’s Your Role?

Dear FETCH Friends:

My heart goes out to every person that works with animals. As a child, I dreamed of becoming a vet (see page 8 about Megan’s dream). My 4-year-old daughter Scarlett, posing above with our dog Sophy, would also like to be a vet, ironically. But it is definitely not a job for someone like me. I cry constantly about dogs. So if I had to euthanize dogs or other animals as a part of my job, my head would not be able to move beyond that. It’s safe to say I am not strong enough. I once volunteered at MADACC (sorry, Karen, for not continuing), and I literally cried day and night for months. I’m tearing up now just writing about it. My dad, Tom Putz, God rest his soul, told me not to go back because I am not the type WHO can handle that. He was right (and boy do I miss how right he always was). I often dream about working with animals and having my own rescue, but again, can I handle that?  It really takes special people with gifts from God to do these jobs that are talked about in this issue. They deserve the utmost respect from all of us who are not capable of performing such tasks. My outlet for working with animals is simply producing this magazine. I believe (and I hope you do as well) that this is in some small way helping them! Again I encourage anyone with suggestions, comments or concerns to reach out to me. I’m not one to ignore another’s opinion or steer away from conflict. I am one to recognize it and appreciate it for what it’s worth, and it’s how I learn moving forward.   

To being your own beautiful self & helping animals in your own unique way,

N.Putz

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Fox River Valley Cat Club

BY CHERESE COBB, FREELANCER

Whether you’re a cat connoisseur, a crazy cat lady in training or a dog person transitioning into a cat person, the Fox River Valley Cat Club (FRVCC) can help you publicly proclaim your “cat-mance” to the world.

The half-century-old organization has 15 to 20 members. Their motto: care, advocate, teach and share. For their Paws to Talk About Claws initiative, they’re teaming up with Almost Home Kitty Rescue in Neenah, Wisconsin to educate the public about the dangers of declawing, such as infection, tissue death and lameness.

“Honestly, there isn’t a lot of representation for cats,” says Olycia Larson, one of the club’s household cat exhibitors. “When we’re at the WBAY (Green Bay) and Winnebago Pet Expos, we get a lot of comments about, ‘Oh, I didn’t know that something existed for cat people like us.’”

Part of the American Cat Fanciers Association’s (ACFA) North Central region, the FRVCC organizes two cat shows every year. The first is a Household Pet show, held in the spring. “It’s a small show. This year, we only had 25 cats and several of them were 4-H based,” says Barb Steele, the President of the FRVCC. “The judges look at the household pet’s personality—not necessarily breed standards.” No points are awarded.

The second is an American Cat Fanciers’ Association Pedigree and Household Pet cat show. “We usually have cat owners from six or seven states show up and eight different judges from around the United States,” Steele says. “A couple of years ago, we had a couple from Florida when there was a hurricane. They had no power, but they still got up here to attend our show.”

While there aren’t any breeders in the club, half of the members show cats. Larson exhibited her barncat named Khan for four and a half years before retiring him. “The most challenging part of being an exhibitor is traveling. You have to figure out the logistics of having a cat in a hotel room because they don’t normally behave as well as a dog does,” she says. “We’ve had a few people have to take apart beds or get behind fixtures or furniture to get their cats out because they squeezed into those places.”

Becky Markvart has been a member of the FRVCC for three years and currently owns one Maine Coon and nine Ragdolls. “I showed my Maine Coon for two seasons. We call him Princess because he cries at every little thing,” she says. “He hates baths and being combed. He decided that he didn’t like being shown anymore. He’s very happy to be retired.”

Markvart started showing her Seal Bicolor Lynx Point Ragdoll, Duncan, at 6 months old in Wisconsin, Indiana, Missouri and Minnesota. “You can only show kittens from four to eight months old. Duncan ended up being the sixth-best kitten in North America,” she says. Though he was diagnosed with seizures before his first birthday, last year he was the sixth-best alter in North America and the year before that, he was ninth-best. “That’s how I ended up meeting a lot of the AFCA cat people. I didn’t know much about all the different breeds,” she says. “You get to learn about what makes each breed different from the other and how to tell a good representation of the breed from a bad one.”

If you’re interested in joining the FRVCC, please call
(920)-979-3427, or visit foxrivervalleycatclub.com.

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Doodles to Details with Ken Young

Ken Young (from Ken Young Creative) went from being scolded for drawing during class time as a youngster to a professional graphic designer with his own business. But the real passion that drives Young is his pencil drawings of pets which bring tears to their owner’s eyes. According to Young, it all officially began back in his college years when he attended MATC (Milwaukee) for Commercial Art and worked on the school newspaper, the MATC Times, as their graphic editor.

“It was during those 3 years that I created countless numbers of pencil portraits for the newspaper, especially for the many different speakers that they brought in to the school. Politicians, comedians, writers, musicians—you name it. My drawings improved over those years, and I became rather good at drawing portraits.”

What do people think of your art? Why pets?

My customers are so grateful for my drawings. Most times I see tears weld up in their eyes, and they tell me how touched and moved they are with the drawings I’ve created. That’s what’s amazed me the most. The emotional effect that my drawings bring to people is the best part of what I do. I was drawing pets (mostly dogs) in the very beginning (40 years ago).

Somewhere about that time, I was displaying my drawings at a craft show when a woman in a two-baby stroller pulled up and said, “I really want you to draw my babies.”

Naturally, I was thinking she meant her two baby children in the stroller. But she pulled out her purse to show me a photo of her two dogs. That’s when I knew dog drawings would be a larger market for me. I draw twice as many dogs as I do people. And through the years I’ve come to understand why. Dogs are members of our families. I truly believe that. And sadly, they are not here with us long enough. Maybe 10 to 15 years if we’re lucky. But the love for their dogs is just as strong as the love for our children and grandchildren.

Do people prefer this medium over others?

Yes. I only draw my detailed pet portraits in pencil. The advantage of that is because I have drawn so many now, I am able to do draw them a little faster. It used to take me about 8 hours to draw one dog portrait and because of that, I had to charge $300 per drawing. Today my drawings only take me about 4 to 5 hours, so I can charge $150—a lot more affordable for people.

What are your more memorable drawings?

A woman that I had done a dog drawing for still tells me “if we have a fire in our house, that drawing is the first thing I would grab off the wall as I run out the door.” I’ve also done five different German Shepherds for a woman who wanted each one as a large 16″ x 20″ drawing. It’s kind of spooky because it threads through her whole house and each one is backlit. These aren’t dogs, but I was once approached by a woman who had nine adult children scattered all over the country, and she could never get them together for a family photo—so she had me draw all of them together! And that’s something she could never have accomplished.

www.drawingonmemories.com

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CBD Oil For Cats & Dogs: How Magical Is It?

BY CHERESE COBB, FREELANCER

Hayden, an 11-year-old Rat Terrier, doesn’t like loud noises. At the first rumble of thunder or pop of fireworks, she shakes so badly that everything around her vibrates. She also drools and leaves puddles wherever she’s hiding.

Before Anna Cabal adopted her from the Rat Terrier ResQ in Arkadelphia, Arkansas, she’d been seriously burned by her previous owner. She was septic and had little to no skin left on her back. “Then, last August, Hayden went to the vet for a teeth cleaning and had to have some mast cell tumors removed. The prolonged time in surgery on the heating pad caused secondary thermal burns, and her skin reopened,” she says. “I spent ten months with the vets using creams, ointments and dressings of all kinds, but a small, dime-sized opening still persisted.”

Nine months ago, Cabal found a way to close her dog’s wounds within three weeks and control her noise anxiety: cannabidiol (CBD)—a cannabinoid that can be extracted from cannabis—which includes hemp and marijuana.

What Type of Drug is CBD?
“CBD is considered a Schedule 1 drug, but it’s legal in all 50 states,” says Karen Eckert, the founder of My Organic Hound in Holmen, Wis. It’s thought to be able to prevent epileptic seizures, reduce chronic pain and ease separation anxiety, but unlike cannabis’ other main compound, delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), it doesn’t get users high.

Marijuana and hemp are actually both varieties of the same plant species Cannabis sativa. “The analogy that I always give is that a Pit Bull and a Chihuahua are the same species of dog. But, of course, as you know, they look very different,” says Andy Gould, the co-owner of Wisconsin Hemp Scientific LLC in Sussex, Wis. “One is small and cuddly. The other is also cute but can be perceived as fierce-looking and bigger.”

“Marijuana produces a higher amount of THC and a lower amount of CBD,” Gould says, “and in hemp, you kind of see the reverse of that.” According to the Wisconsin Department of Agriculture, Trade and Consumer Protection, hemp is only allowed to have a THC concentration of 0.3 percent in all parts of the plant when it’s been dried—or it’s considered marijuana.

Once hemp has been harvested though, it begins to break down. Sunlight can cause the tetrahydrocannabinolic acid (THCA) in CBD oil to release carbon dioxide and become THC. High humidity can also make hemp flowers moldy or taste like ammonia while low humidity can cause them to crisp up and dry out. Refrigerating CBD oil can produce bacterial growth, so keep your pet’s CBD oil at room temperature. If it changes color, it’s probably damaged and should be tossed out.

What Type of CBD Should You Use?
“It’s very important to get your CBD oil from a trusted source,” says Dr. Megan Teiber of Indian Prairie Animal Hospital in Aurora, Illinois. “We can’t be sure that all products are pure and don’t contain more THC than claimed or other toxic ingredients like pesticides, fungicides or heavy metals.” If your cat or dog ingests secondhand smoke or marijuana edibles such as brownies or pot butter with other toxic ingredients involved such as chocolate, raisins or xylitol, it could result in severe cannabis intoxication or even death. Cats might also eat the marijuana plant. Symptoms of cannabis intoxication include severe agitation, hyperexcitability, tremors, seizures and coma. They usually start within 30 to 60 minutes of oral ingestion but can last for up to 96 hours.

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration hasn’t approved CBD or issued a dosing chart, but recent studies suggest that it doesn’t pose a risk of addiction and generally causes few side effects. CBD may result in dry mouth, low blood pressure or slight drowsiness and may alter the metabolism of other drugs. Cats can also possibly accumulate hemp oil in their livers. “For cats, what I tell people is one drop a day. That shouldn’t harm them because over time it does stay in their systems,” Eckert says. “On the CBD dropper, there are measurements like a quarter or a half. Regardless of your dog’s weight, start with the smallest amount…a quarter, morning and night.” If you don’t see the results that you’re looking for, then you can slowly increase it, confirms Eckert.

“There’s a lag between when you take it and when it starts working: 30 minutes to 2 hours,” Gould says. When CBD oil is rubbed on your pet’s gums or given as a suppository, for instance, it reaches the brain pretty quickly. But when it’s added to water or baked into treats, it takes longer. Before it reaches your pet’s bloodstream, CBD gets metabolized in the liver, which inactivates some of it, meaning the amount that gets to the brain ends up being much smaller than the amount that’s ingested.

“Every pet’s body has a slightly different chemistry,” he says. “A lot of the CBD products that are marketed as pet products are not that different from human CBD products. The only difference is that sometimes there are certain ingredients that aren’t good for pets like peppermint, citrus or tea tree oils.”

Does It Really Work?
Crude CBD oil is roughly the color and consistency of maple syrup, but some pets hate how it tastes. “We have freeze-dried chicken treats, and I just take the dropper and saturate them with it,” says Debbie Mayer from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. When she brought home Kolby from JR’s Pups-N-Stuff in West Allis, Wisconsin, he couldn’t even get up. Mayer was told that Kolby wouldn’t live very long when she adopted him.

“We gave him some CBD oil. After two doses, he was able to get up.” Since then, two and a half years have passed. “He’s really an old man, but he can run again at full speed in the backyard,” she says. “CBD oil can be a little bit pricey depending on the dosage, strength and whether or not it’s organic,” she says. A one-ounce bottle can cost anywhere from $30 to more than $200, but “it’s worth it because it’s a life-changer for both people and animals.”

Janice Klein from Onalaska, Wisconsin adopted Ruby from a private home. After Klein broke her ankle, she couldn’t take the Maltese-Poodle mix on walks or to the bathroom. Ruby barely ate and would whine, pace and bark during thunderstorms. “Ruby was anxious and had a difficult time…in my home because of my ankle surgery and my husband’s death at the same time,” she says. “A year ago, I hired a dog walker and sitter for a period of time. Her name was Karen Eckert and, she was from K9 Pet Care LLC. She introduced me to the oils.” Klein started squirting a drop of CBD under Ruby’s tongue.

“She’s more energetic and a great companion. She acts more like a young dog instead of the 11-year-old that she really is,” she says. “When she meets new people, they think she’s just a young dog and not her senior age.”

Eckert suggests applying CBD oil to the base of your dog’s ears with a fast-acting gel pen. “It works in 10 or 15 minutes,” she says. “I use it with animals during thunderstorms, fireworks, car rides or something they’re not very happy with [like a trip to the vet]. It lasts up to 4 hours, and you can give it to your dog six times a day.”

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The Italian Greyhound: A Snuggly Sprinter

BY PAMELA STACE

Many years ago, I fell in love with Italian Greyhounds when I saw them competing at a Racine Kennel Club dog show. I even picked out a name if I would ever be lucky enough to have one: Paolo. I was attracted to their elegant good looks, the fact that they were often depicted in Renaissance paintings (I was an Art History major) and that you could pick them up and hold them like cats.

Years later, after settling on the Afghan Hound as my breed, I learned that Italian Greyhounds (or IGs) are indeed cuddly but also every bit the athletic hunters that their other Sighthound cousins are.

History
As is the case for many of our dog breeds, the origins of the Italian Greyhound are sketchy, but we do know that they were not developed in Italy. It is widely believed that the breed came out of Turkey and Greece about 2000 years ago, where images of small Greyhound-like dogs have been found on ancient artifacts. From there, the Italian Greyhound spread throughout the Mediterranean and by the Middle Ages could be found throughout Southern Europe.

Bred for companionship and as a hunter of small game, the little dogs quickly became the darlings of the aristocracy. Royal owners included Charles I, Catherine the Great and later, Queen Victoria during whose reign the popularity of IGs peaked in England. Frederick II of Prussia especially liked the breed and owned more than 50 of the little dogs! IGs can be seen being held by their highborn owners in Renaissance art and portraits. They were especially beloved by wealthy Italians and soon became known as Italian Greyhounds. In the United States, the Italian Greyhound was recognized by the AKC in 1886 and this year was ranked 73rd out of 193 in popularity.

The Smallest Sighthound
IGs were bred down from the Greyhound and as such have all of the larger dogs hunting and speed capabilities. They are energetic and playful runners and jumpers, but because of their strong prey drive, cannot be relied upon to stay in place off-leash. They are sometimes referred to as Velcro dogs because they like to stick close to their humans and will follow them everywhere, even under bedcovers. IGs are affectionate and don’t like to be left alone for too long. They love attention, although they are not fond of roughhouse play. They are good with children who can respectfully and carefully interact with them.

IGs can be barkers, and for being small dogs, they make good watchdogs. Like cats, IGS love warmth and heights. They enjoy sunshine through a window and sitting on windowsills and chair backs. Because they are not always careful when running and jumping, IGs can injure themselves when they are in high gear.

It is advisable to keep them crated when unsupervised, especially when they are under a year old because their bones aren’t fully developed. They have been known to break them! IGs respond to positive, motivational training. They need it to be fun and seem as if it was all their idea! An Italian Greyhound is a wash-and-wear dog. They have short glossy coats that are easy to keep clean, although they are medium shedders. Because of their need for warmth, a nice warm winter coat is a must here in Wisconsin. As is the case with other small breeds, IGs are sometimes slow to become house trained but will eventually get it in response to gentle positive reinforcement training.

Activities
Because IGs are intelligent and athletic, they are perfect for many organized dog activities. They excel at obedience, rally, agility and lure coursing.Their distinctive high-stepping gait is impressive in the show ring.

Home Life
Because they are generally adaptable to any environment that contains the humans they love, Italian Greyhounds can live almost anywhere. They make excellent apartment dogs but do need regular exercise. They love to run and can go as fast as 25mph! Again, they will take off if they spy something interesting to chase, so they can never be off-leash or outside a secure, fenced-in area. Like all of their Sighthound cousins, they are born thieves! And of course, they love being held!
Health Issues
Italian Greyhounds are generally healthy but can be prone to some health issues. These include epilepsy, thyroid problems, cataracts, periodontal disease and hip dysplasia. They are also sensitive to pesticides.

The Best of Both Worlds
The Italian Greyhound is a Sighthound/Toy combination. An IG combines the qualities of a cuddly, loving lap dog with the impressive speed and prey drive of a Sighthound. I’d say this is the best of two worlds found together in one beautiful, portable package!

Links

Italian Greyhound Club of
America italiangreyhound.org
Italian Greyhound Club of
America Rescue www.igrescue.com

Stats

Homeland: Turkey and Greece, later Europe.

Original Job: Hunter of small game and companion dog.

Size: 13-15 inches, 7-14 lbs.

Coat Colors: Solid black, blue sable, red sable, fawn and cream, sometimes with varying amounts of white coloring. Never brindle or classic black and tan pattern.

Grooming: Regular bathing, nail trimming and teeth brushing.

Exercise: Moderate exercise with regular good romps.

Lifespan: 12-15 years.

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