MY AFFINITY WITH DOGS… THE FIRST GENERATION.

I’ve always been attached to dogs; they are the most peculiar animals, it’s a cliché for sure, but they give everything and ask nothing in return. I’ve had cats, fish, hamsters, birds, turtles, snakes, and even tarantulas. Nothing comes close to bonding and caring for a canine.

The first dog I owned was a little Yorkshire Terrier our dad gave to me and my sister when I was merely 4 years old. As some might recall, a magnitude 8.1 earthquake struck Mexico City on September 19, 1985; we had to move out immediately due to the structural damage our house suffered from the earthquake; our dog was nowhere to be found. We never knew if she was buried in the rubble or ran away; the latter was most likely since she was never found in the house, or so we were told.

After living provisionally in an apartment that my uncle lent us, we settled in a cozy house with a nice patio. In 1986 my dad gave my sister as a present a little crossbreed Maltese/Cocker. She named her Tootie; she was a blast to hang with, stubborn as hell, but truly loving.

Time went on and we moved to a bigger house with a large yard. As my sister had her dog, I wanted one of my own; fortunately for me, my uncle’s miniature Schnauzer had given birth a healthy litter. I got a female salt & pepper puppy, which I named Odie. Original right? I was 11 at the time and a big fan of Garfield, so back off.

Odie, my great Schnauzer

Both female dogs lived happy for a long time, playing together and enjoying sausage and ham treats and even an occasional lollipop stolen from our hands. Tootie loved to play with empty plastic containers, sticking her snout in and throwing them up in the air just to catch them back with her snout.

Odie was more laid back, she truly enjoyed the company of humans, the thing she loved the most was lying in my legs while watching TV.

Around 1995 Tootie started having problems, epileptic seizures and a form of cancer, she had surgery that “cured” her cancer. By 1999 she could barely walk and the epileptic seizures were constant. Thankfully my sister wasn’t there to witness the dog’s state as she was taking an Architecture course in Europe, or so she said :).

My mother decided to sleep the dog; she was really suffering. I sat in the yard and fed her favorite treats (a last meal, sort of), ham, sausage and a candy as dessert. That was the last time I saw her, the Vet took her in the afternoon. Tootie was 13 years old.

THE NEW GENERATION

When I started law school back in 2000, I only had my old friend Odie as a pet to keep me company; she was always there in the long sleepless nights of study, curling in between my legs and the old, big and dusty law books.

On February 2, 2001, I met Andrea, a brilliant and stunning girl with whom I shared a lot of common interests and tastes such as music, movies, and of course our love for dogs, we eventually started dating and became a couple. We always discussed our favorite breeds, and talked about our dogs. Dalmatians, Labrador Retrievers, Schnauzers, Scottish Terriers and Great Danes were always a topic.

When Andrea and I celebrated our 3rd anniversary she gave me one of the best (if not the best) present someone has ever given me. She arrived at my parent’s house around 11:00 A.M. As soon as she got off the car with a medium sized box I already knew what was in it; the high pitched crying and screeching gave it away.

As I opened the box, I saw a ball of black fur staring at me, trying to scratch behind her ear with her short, fat back leg; she couldn’t reach the spot. An abnormally fat Scottish Terrier Puppy. Being a music lover and a guitar player, I’ve always wanted to name a dog after my favorite guitarists (Clapton, Gilmour, Stevie Ray, Hetfield, etc), so I did not hesitate and named her Hendrix.

Hendrix, the day I got her.

Scotties, amazing dogs, big, big personalities, never take crap from anybody, and truly caring for their owner. She is my big dog trapped in a little dog’s body and I love her to death. Odie and Hendrix didn’t get along that well at the beginning; two female terriers was not a good idea, they fought every now and then; obviously the little puppy was stronger and far more agile for Odie to handle. However, after a few cuts and scratches they eventually got along.

Odie and Hendrix

In Late 2004, Odie grew a small wart on his back, which grew considerably in a small amount of time, we took her to the vet, and was diagnosed with cancer, even though she didn’t seemed ill or manifest any pain, the Vet suggested to put her down as she’d probably wouldn’t survive the surgery. But if she did, she could recover enough to live a happy life again. I took the chance and authorized the surgery; she made it out all right, like if she was 5 years old.

However, nature follows its course. By 2006, Odie was too old and weak to support herself; she had lost weight dramatically in a matter of weeks, I took her to the Vet and he recommended again putting her to sleep. I was 26, and it was the first time I had to make the decision on my own, seeing her on the Vet’s table really took a hold of me, she really didn’t had anything left in her, she looked at me as if saying: “I love you and I’ve given you 14 years, but please let me go, it is my time”. I held her while the Vet applied the injection and said a few words to her after it was over. I still have her ashes.

I put my act together and went back as I still had another dog to care for, the mighty Hendrix.

Even though Andrea loves dogs like only few people I know, she has only owned one when she was little, a Labrador Retriever named Hanna. As Hendrix was the best present I’ve received so far, I wanted to return the gesture, so I decided to give her a dog as a present, after searching a lot I decided to get her a Wire Fox Terrier.

She had already expressed her interest in getting a Fox, and so I found the perfect dog, a blue pedigree diva/princess; her father was the Mexican Champion and her mother World Champion of the breed. I’ve never really cared about pedigree or lineage, and still don’t, but this dog really looked amazing, like if she was true dog royalty.

The breeder had already named the dog, as she was registered at birth; they decided to name every puppy in the litter after booze types, Great idea, right? So there were Whiskey, Vodka, Tequila, and… Ginebra (Gin). Ginebra ended up in our hands.

Andrea took her home on Xmas 2006 (not a great idea), and after some adjustments she bonded incredibly well with her family, Andrea taught her some nice tricks and spoiled her to death ☺. She is a sweet, sweet dog that loves to be around people to be pampered like the little princess she is.

Ginebra

So, we finally both had dogs to care for at our parent’s house (living with your parents is customary in Mexico until you get married). I proposed to Andrea on June 2007, and among the whole wedding planning and other things in mind, one thought came to mind constantly: ¿what happens with our dogs?

¿SHOULD WE GET A DOG?

Andrea and I got married on October 25, 2008, and moved to a new apartment a couple weeks later; a dog in the household was a no brainer. The question was whether to bring in Hendrix, Ginebra, or get a new puppy to start this new life with us.

After a lot of thought (and weekend experiments) we came to the conclusion that our dogs would not be able to adapt to apartment life. Hendrix was too attached to the big yard at my parent’s house, which implied running at top speed and constant digging, which she loves. Ginebra on the other hand was too hyperactive and attached to humans to be left alone, even for a few hours (Andrea’s mother was too attached to the dog as well), so I feared for separation anxiety issues (On both sides).

So after considering our options we decided to get a new dog (we didn’t abandoned Hendrix and Ginebra mind you, we still care for them). The question now was ¿which breed should we get? We needed a dog that could be left alone for a few hours during the day and that could get used to apartment life with the proper exercise. We looked into Corgis, Weimaraners, Dalmatians, Rhodesians, you name it.

But after living with small dogs all my life I really wanted a big dog, and the only big dog that I really liked was the Great Dane. I remember the first time I saw a Dane on the street outside the Vet’s office. It was a stunning black male, his head was the same height of his owner’s chest, she wasn’t very tall, but even so the dog was impressive. The stance and dignified look along with the kind eyes made me want a Dane ever since.

We started seriously considering the possibility of adding a Dane to the family; however, living in an apartment presented an issue. We wanted a big dog, but a Dane is not just a big dog, it’s a giant that needs a lot of care and attention. We didn’t want to have a dog to fulfill our needs as pet owners, but to truly have a family member that was comfortable and happy in its living space.

We contacted breeders and did a lot of reading and research; after a while, the conclusion was that we could get a Dane if we swore to be responsible enough to care for him and to do everything that needs to be done in order to keep a dog like that happy in an apartment.

Once we decided we could take on the enterprise of properly raising a Great Dane, we started looking for puppy candidates. I really wanted a Blue Dane, and Andrea wanted either a Fawn or Harlequin, but I wasn’t going to give on this one, so I imposed my Alpha Male status (O.K. I actually begged), and concentrated my search on Blue puppies.

Dane breeders are not very common in Mexico, so the search was a little troublesome, most of the breeders had Fawn and Black Danes, everyone was out of Blue, like if it was the color of the season. We eventually found a guy in Puebla (2 hour drive from Mexico City), who had a litter of blue puppies, he owned both parents. The litter was composed of 7 females and 3 males.

Since I wanted a really giant dog I pushed for a male, he sent us the photos for the males, the only problem was that the none of them were true Blue; they were Blue/Fawn (weird I know). However, one of those 3 pups caught our attention immediately, she had a bluish coat, with big blue eyes. That was it we had found our puppy.

The chosen one

LIVING WITH A GIANT

We picked our new puppy on April 4 2009, at a Highway stop between Mexico City and Puebla. The man from whom we purchased the dog brought the puppy’s dad, Aquiles, in order for us to meet him. It was an impressive 35’ (at the shoulder) Blue Dane, friendly and caring. We’ve already seen pictures of him but it was nothing compared to seeing him in the flesh.

Aquiles and Me

We stayed for a while chatting with the seller, discussing basic caring topics and “life with a Dane”, he owned 2 of them, and seemed like a really caring guy, which made us even more confident about purchasing the puppy from him.

On our way back we stopped at the Vet’s office in order for him to check the new puppy and apply the corresponding vaccines and other medications, everything was O.K.

Soon the debate started, ¿what should we name him? Obviously I wanted to continue the tradition of guitarist names, but given the fact that this was not my dog, there needed to be consensus between Andrea and me. After discussing it for a while, my mother suggested to call him Cecilio (Cecil, in English), after a couple of turtles I had when I was a kid, Cecilio & Catalina; we loved the idea.

We then headed to purchase basic puppy items: toys, food, bed, treats you name it. The first day in the house was as expected, playing and sleeping, playing and sleeping, then a lot of crying during the night, Cecilio missed his littermates and mommy. This carried on for a week or so.

Cecilio's first day at home

During the first months Cecilio wouldn’t stop biting and nibbling, not the furniture, cables, or miscellaneous stuff as a regular dog would, but us, our hands were full of scabs and scars, we tried a lot of different methods to teach him not to bite, we must have read every blog post and article on this, always using positive reinforcement to no avail. He also didn’t like being reprimanded, he would groan and bark at us and even throw some bites in the air.

Nothing worked, we were getting really desperate and started thinking crazy thoughts about our dog being aggressive, or even out of his mind. But he eventually stopped doing that. As we had read and been told, the problem lied with us, not with him, once we learned how to control him the right way, the biting and nibbling stopped; he still complained and groaned when reprimanded though. But for us it was a huge step. It’s great to know that the problem does not lie in your dog being aggressive or crazy, but in you being stupid.

At 3 months he started to develop some digestive problems, we thought he was eating something he shouldn’t, as he had diarrhea constantly, which led to late night trips to different Vets.

He was eating Eukanuba’s puppy formula; the final Vet we consulted didn’t found infections or parasites, so she suggested we changed his food. With not many options in the Mexican dog food market, we decided to switch to Royal Canin, as it was the only premium food that offered a Giant Puppy formula. I know, I know… Giant formulas aren’t that great because of the protein levels; however that did the trick for Cecilio, he never had intestinal problems again, aside from the occasional grass ingestion and regurgitation.

Cecilio and me chilling (3 months)

Then at 3 months one of the biggest decisions for a Dane owner: to crop or not to crop its ears. I’ve already had a bad experience with ear cropping since we had done it to Odie, and she suffered quite a bit. But I truly loved the way Danes looked with their ears cropped, call me a cruel, selfish, shallow bastard, but I did liked it and Andrea was against it. After a couple of weeks Cecilio started to grow his ears really weird, to the point of looking like a plane, so we decided to go with the cropped ears.

We searched for specialized Vets, as I had come across some really lousy ear jobs, and the last thing I wanted was to put my dog through the process only to have a bad job done on him. His Vet was at a dog-training center not far from our home, and he suggested a surgeon that specialized in ear cropping so we took him there. Fortunately, Cecilio came out like if nothing had happened, except from vomiting all over me inside the car on our way back due to the anesthesia.

The process was practically painless for him, he had the mandatory tapes only 3 weeks and his ears were really pointy and gorgeous. We got lucky on this one.

Cecilio's amazing ear job

At the Dog training center where our Vet has her office, they recommended us to take a 5-week puppy crash course, which consisted in weekly lessons for us in order to understand our puppy needs better and tend to them accordingly. We decided to take the course, as not only would it help us, but also Cecilio would be able to run free in 64,500 square feet, used for training purposes. The course was conducted by Cecilio’s Vet.

Cecilio playing at home

At the end of the course, the Vet recommended to take Cecilio in every Saturday to supervised play sessions, where owners of different breeds took their dogs to play in the same 64,500 square feet, supervised by a trainer; this would help Cecilio’s socialization process both with humans and dogs. In addition, due to the size of the breed she recommended to start him on obedience training.

We did that and took Cecilio every Saturday to the play sessions, where he made some good friends, a slow Basset Hound named Chelsea, a lightning fast Boxer called Lola, an Australian Shepherd puppy called Wicka, and a Beagle, which I can’t remember his name (sorry). He always loved to play with small dogs, even though he was getting bigger and bigger, he thought he was a small puppy.

Cecilio, lived a really happy life, he would go out for a walk 3 times a day, play a little inside the apartment and then lie down next to us exhausted while we watched T.V. On Saturdays he would go meet his buddies at the supervised play sessions, and on Sundays we occasionally took him for a walk to different parks. He had a personality that I’ve never seen in a dog, we has really smart for a Dane and loved to toy with our minds, but at the same time it was caring and loyal like no other dog I’ve known; he was my new best friend.

Watching T.V.

It was a delight to have him inside the apartment after all his behavior issues (or rather, ours) got under control; however, as Cecilio grew taller and stronger, taking him for a walk started to be somewhat of a challenge, it was like trying to walk a small pony. He wanted to chase other dogs and people, and don’t get me started on birds. The situation got to the point where he even made Andrea stumble down a set of stairs at the park while chasing “something”; she injured her hand in the incident.

So after some thought we decided to send him to the obedience training boot camp that was offered to us when we were taking the puppy course. It was a 5-week program in which the dog had to stay at the training center for the whole time (we had visiting rights though). Cecilio was supposed to start his obedience training at 6 months old.

Cecilio and Andrea, right before he started obedience training.

He was to start his course on September 4; I had a work convention outside the city I needed to attend to, so, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to be there to leave him at the training center I decided to take some time with him on Thursday, we took two long walks, played and hung out most of the day; I left for the convention Friday morning. I know Andrea spoiled him on Friday, she even let him sleep in our bed as I wasn’t there, then he took him to the training center on Saturday, signed the corresponding contracts, and said to him: “See you next Saturday”.

As promised, we were there the next Saturday for the supervised play session; we were waiting for Cecilio right by the main office (his designated pen was across the 64,500 square feet field), as soon as the trainer let him loose he saw us and ran all the way across the field to greet us. I was so happy to see my pup, and at the same time I was devastated; I missed him so much during the week, our walks, our playtime, our chill time ¿would I be able to endure another 5 weeks without that?

I had to, for his sake and ours; I truly believed that obedience training was absolutely necessary to Cecilio. So we kept visiting every Saturday, watching him run across the field to greet us, playing with his buds, and even getting into some fights with older dogs (a big fat German Shepherd (Draco) and a Border Collie named Cooper). Again, as concerned owners we asked about aggression problems, but the trainers told us not to worry, some dogs just can’t get along. He also had lost some weight, but we were told that it was normal.

Playing session

Weeks passed and we were eager to take our dog home; finally on October 12, we received a call from the Head trainer telling us that Cecilio had mastered leash training, heel, sit, and down commands; however, he was still having trouble with the “stay” order (I knew that would be an issue from the start ☺). He said that he needed a week to correct the flaws in the stay command, but that it was almost given that we would be able to take Cecilio home after next Saturday’s play session, he would get in touch with us on Friday to let us know for sure. I was delighted, we refilled our treat and rawhide bones stock, bought some new toys to welcome him, and a coat for his winter walks.

The wait until Friday, October 16 was a long one, but it finally arrived, Andrea and I were so eager to receive the call from the Head Trainer that we couldn’t wait and called ourselves. Hmm… not the news I was expecting, apparently Cecilio presented some vomiting and diarrhea that morning; his Vet was already treating him. The Head Trainer told us that he had probably eaten some grass during Thursday’s training session and it might have caused an infection (this had happened before while walking him in the park). According to him it was nothing to worry about, he offered to keep him there for another week at no charge just to keep an eye on him until he got better.

Not a chance! That was my first thought, but after discussing it with Andrea we thought it would be better if he stayed there close to the Vet. I called again in the afternoon (5:00 P.M.) and asked to speak directly with the Vet. She told me that the dog was progressing fine to the treatment and that if she saw fit, we would be able to take Cecilio with us after the play session as originally intended. I asked her again if it was something serious and she replied that it was nothing to worry about. I told her: “O.K. then, see you tomorrow”.

OCTOBER 17, 2009. 10:00 A.M.

While Andrea and I were getting ready to go to the play session, we received a call from the Head Trainer, Cecilio was found dead in his pen that morning; he was 8 months old. According to him the probable cause of death was Bloat.

I couldn’t think straight when I got the news, It takes a lot for me to cry over something (even when my other dogs passed), but that moment I cried like I never had before. Either way I needed to see him, and given the abrupt dead of my dear friend I needed to get some answers from either the trainer or the Vet.

With heavy feet and teary eyes I made my way to the training center. As I entered the large yard they use for the playing sessions, I saw Chelsea (the slow Basset Hound) and Draco (the big German Shepherd) playing like they usually do; in my shock state I was hoping to see Cecilio run all the way from his pen to greet me like he did every Saturday since we left him there, but of course he didn’t. That was when reality struck me in the face, my giant was gone, and I would never see him run to me again.

I waited in the office for the Vet to arrive, wondering what could have caused a healthy dog to die in less than 24 hours. Finally the Vet arrived and gave me a huge hug and told me that she was so sorry. She led me to the room where Cecilio lied dead, covered with a huge towel. She uncovered his head and stayed there for a while, I told here that I needed a moment alone with my dog, and went away.

I uncovered the rest of his body and started patting his back while looking at his big blue eyes, tears poured out like I’ve never experienced before. ¿Why did he died the day he was supposed to return to his home? There in front of me lied dead my giant buddy, and I couldn’t stop but asking myself, ¿Could I have done something for him earlier? ¿Should I have picked him up on Friday and take him home? I did not have any answers for those questions, or maybe I didn’t want to have an answer. Guilt would not bring Cecilio back.

I kissed him on his forehead and said goodbye, then covered him with the towel only to uncover him again to pat his back and head; I think I repeated this at least 4 times, I didn’t want to let go, I wanted to take him home as it was supposed to. I must have spent 45 minutes in that room, but now it seems like it was only 5.

On my way back to the office I encountered the Head trainer, he gave me a huge hug as well, and told me again his theory of a possible bloat problem, then he evaded me. Again I waited in the office for the Vet to ask her some questions. While I was waiting, I saw a family picking up their new puppy (the trainers are also Border Collie breeders), they were having fun and taking pictures, I offered to take them a family picture. After I took it, the little boy came to me and said, “Look, it’s Scooby Doo” (A Pro Plan advertising with a Great Dane on it), my dog looked just like Scooby Doo, I had to bite my lip.

I was then called to the Vet’s office. I respectfully and calmly asked her why in gods name she didn’t informed us that the dog was so ill, and why was he left alone all night without supervision. She told me that last time she checked him (around 6:30 P.M) the symptoms were almost gone and he seemed fairly alright, something must have happened in the early morning that caused the sudden death of the animal, she mentioned again bloat as a probable cause.

We knew about the risk of bloat, and we took care to avoid it. If it was bloat, I think it was a really weird case. From what the Vet told me, they didn’t give him food since Thursday, and they controlled his water intake. It seems weird that a dog that hasn’t been fed in a day and that has been controlled could get bloat from sitting in his pen; but what do I know, I’m not a Vet.

One thing that did caught my attention is the fact that the Vet treated him with Bactrim, Flagyl, and Cerenia, this last drug is untested with poisoned animals, and I even read somewhere that it could lead to seizures and death. I don’t know how reliable is that info, but If that is the case, I think that what caused Cecilio to die in less than 24 hours could have been the ingestion of a poisonous plant, and a fatal reaction from the Cerenia. Even though I authorized the necropsy, I’m afraid I’ll never know.

I don’t want to blame the Vet or Trainers, they are really decent people with whom we even had formed a “friendship”, but the truth is, Cecilio died under suspicious circumstances, and even though he might have been really sick, it all points towards negligence.

CLOSURE

I returned home and slept most of the afternoon; after gaining control of myself, I asked Andrea if she wanted to go for a walk with me. We followed the usual route I took every time with Cecilio and I swear that I could see him walking by my left, sniffing every bush, biting every branch, trying to chase the birds, and then looking up at me, apologizing for his misbehaves.

When we returned home I started collecting al his toys, beds, and items then proceed to store everything inside his huge Kennel, it was a painful moment closing that gate, knowing that I would never see him again, but at the same time I felt comfort, and the Guilt I felt since I saw him in the morning suddenly went away.

I’ve lost two dogs in my life, but they were gone by natural causes due to age. I don’t know why Cecilio left us so abruptly, I don’t know if it was meant to be, or if Vet and Trainer negligence caused it. All I know is that he is now gone, and all the long terms plans I made with him in mind (we were looking for a house with a yard) were gone as well.

I’ve been asked if I will get a new dog ¿Will I? Most certainly, but I don’t think it’ll be any time soon, ¿Will it be a Great Dane? No doubt about it. However, no two dogs are alike, even though you can care for other dogs; the bond you make with an individual is special and irreplaceable, and it’s not something I will forget in my lifetime. As I write this I can almost see him out of the corner of my eye, his head through the door waiting for me to make eye contact in order for him to run inside the room and invite me to play.

Notwithstanding, as with the dead of my other dogs I need to look forward, I still have two dogs to take care of, Hendrix and Ginebra.

I want to thank our family and friends, who have been supportive during these tough times, even though most of them don’t truly understand, and may think we overreact to the loss of the giant puppy.

I also want to thank Honey the Great Dane (www.bighoneydog.com), My Great Dane Princeton (http://my-great-dane.blogspot.com), Danes Down Under (http://danesdownunder.com), Danes World (http://danesview.blogspot.com/), That Mutt (http://www.thatmutt.com), and Simon Says Great Danes (http://simonsaysdanes.blogspot.com). Even though we never got to know any of you or your dogs personally, you helped us understand and raise our Great Dane through the toughest months, and through the caring of your dogs, you helped Cecilio to become the most lovable and caring companion we’ve ever had.

And finally, I thank you, Hooligan of a dog for the best 8 months of my life, I know that you are watching over Andrea an me, and that you will always be at my left side when I go out for a walk, I also know that Odie and Tootie will take good care of you.

Wherever you go, Godspeed.

The last time I interacted with my dog.