Eli, Part III - Pork Dog

We met the foster on a Saturday morning at PetSmart.  Eli accepted our love and kisses as if we'd had him since he was a puppy.  Underneath his wheat colored fur that covered his face, were two beautiful, big brown eyes that sparkled like Christmas morning.  As soon as we could have him groomed, we'd make sure to have the fur cut so it wouldn't cover his eyes anymore.  Sheep dog types are used to this though and it wasn't uncomfortable for him, we just wanted to be able to see his pretty eyes.

He settled in quickly and immediately made himself at home on our sofa in the living room.  Well, right after playfully chasing the cats, that is.  

Whenever I would leave the room, he would follow me.  Everywhere I went, Eli was right there.  

The first time we took him into the backyard, he surveyed the perimeter and acclimated himself, choosing just the right spot do his business and then invited us to play.  He had a lot of energy and he spent a good deal of it trying to herd my two year old boy.  Nicholas didn't know what to make of it and at first it scared him, but we convinced him that our new dog was just playing with his boy while Eli was convinced he just needed to protect Nicholas.

He was everything we wanted in a dog.  

The following week, we had him groomed.  He hadn't had a bath in a while so we were looking forward to having a "fresh dog" for a change. When they brought him out, he was completely different.  Something had changed.

The groomer told us Eli's coat had turned white when she shampoo'd him!  He was no longer brown and gray, he was WHITE and gray and extremely fluffy from his blow out.  A call to the foster mom solved the mystery.  He had been dyed brown with temporary vegetable dye to achieve the brown color of "Sandy" for the play.  

I thought Eli could not get any cuter than he was the first time I saw him.  I was so wrong.  I loved the white coat.  He looked, and was, so clean.

Besides chasing cats, he really didn't have any bad habits.  He didn't beg, he didn't chew on things he wasn't supposed to, He didn't bark for no reason, and he didn't make a mess.  I'm suprised he didn't wipe his paws on the Welcome Mat before coming back inside.

One time though, my husband came home from work for lunch.  There was a pork loin he'd cooked the night before in the fridge and he took it out to make a sandwich.  It was on the cutting board and when Mark returned to the fridge for condiments, Eli helped himself to it and earned his first nickname.  Pork Dog.

Eli enjoyed car rides as much as he did pork loin.  I'd take him with me to pick up the kids from school and from daycare.  He also loved company and assumed everyone who came to our house loved him too.  And I'm pretty sure he was right about that.

When Eli was six, we decided to get a playmate for him.  Along came a poodle mix from a college student who was just looking to get rid of him.  We named him Finnegan and he was good company for Eli.  I never made the same emotional connection with Finn as I did Eli, but I think it's because in your life, you only get one Heart Dog.  That's not to say you won't love the other dogs in your life as much, it's just different.  

Shortly after Finnegan came to live with us, I felt a hard lump beneath Eli's ribcage.  Surgery revealed a malignant tumor and our Vet warned us that the cancer would most likely return.  Maybe one month, 6 months, a year, but it would return.  We would need to check him frequently for lumps.

My world crashed down.  I felt helpless and dreaded what was to come.  Every time I would pet Eli, I would pray there'd be no hard places.  

Through this all, Eli's personality never changed.  It remained as happy and perky and silly as ever.  He was still the most charming dog I'd ever met.  I'd been a little more generous with the treats since I wasn't sure how long we'd have him.  I wanted to make him as happy as possible and what I guess I didn't realize, is that he already was.  He had no idea he was living under the threat of disease.

One day, I found another lump.  A rather large one this time.  Dread filled me and spilled out of me in tears that would not stop and I buried my face into his furry neck and begged him to please be okay. 

The vet examined him while Eli wagged his tail and danced on the table.  Even at the Vet's office, he was a happy, playful boy.  Dr. Alison looked at me and smiled.  This one felt different.  He retrieved a syringe, inserted a needle and withdrew an oily substance.  This was a fatty tumor. Totally harmless.  This time, my tears were joyful.

Fatty tumors continued to form here and there, over time.  The years painted my boy with a wider girth and wore on his joints but his personality remained unchanged.  We were lucky that there were no signs of cancer, long after we were warned we'd face it again one day.

Eli began to drink a lot of water.  Florida summers are hot, but he spent his days and nights in the comfort of our air conditioned home.  We found ourselves refilling the water bowl more often and letting him out more times a day to do his business.  

One morning, I woke up to find an empty water bowl and a huge puddle by the back door.  I called the Vet and told him I thought Eli had diabetes.  He said he didn't think that was the case but if I could collect a sample from him, I could bring it in to be tested.  I told him it'd be easy since Eli was now peeing constantly.

Five minutes after I got there, he told me to go home and get Eli.  He needed to show me how to test his urine and give him an insulin injection.  I was right,.  Pork dog had diabetes.

To Be Continued...