Animals

Dogs and cats and all other four legged creatures feature here

On Finding Out That My Dog Has Cancer

~ Kate Wilson ~ 9 Comments
  • The vet decided I was the sort of person who could cope with seeing a photo of my dogs insides.  He explained about the little white lines on the intestines which show lymph collecting where it shouldn’t ought to be. ‘What’s that?’ I said pointing at the large mass of pink red and purple flesh just below where the gloved hand was holding her guts up to the camera. ‘That’s the tumour’  Oooooffff it is bigger than a large mans hand!
  • On the first two days I cried a lot. I don’t mean I sat and sobbed on the sofa but waiting in a queue at the bakers my eyes filled up and welled over, telling a friend the news I felt my words wobble before my shoulders followed suit, I cycled through town with my face soaking with tears.  Then it stopped. Where do they go those tears?  At the vet for a checkup after the surgery there was a woman sobbing without shame.  She was flanked by two sad looking men who occasionally patted her knee, setting off another bout of wails.  The day my crying stopped I started yet another cold with streaming nose and violent sneezing.
  • The first day my partner kept complaining of feeling cold. He was wrapped in a thick coat but his hands were icy. I asked over and over again ‘How are you?’ and was disappointed that he seemed so emotionally distant. It was the next day before I realised it was shock – he had frozen and I had forgotten about arnica.
  • This says something about my life here in this house:- I was grateful when the Resident Adolescent (now strictly speaking a Resident Teenager) stopped in the hallway to ask ‘How is Bonnie?’  This must be the first real conversation we have had in over a year. And it only lasted for three sentences. 
  • After surgery dogs sometimes get constipated. Internet searches recommend mashed pumpkin. Unfortunately pumpkin is also high in carbohydrates and carbohydrates feed the cancer.  I worry a lot about food. Why not continue to give her raw meaty bones?  So I do. Then I worry that she can’t digest it.  So I boil it up and have to painstakingly remove the meat by hand.  Rice? Vegetables?  She needs fibre but I don’t want that mass to get food. That photo of her insides haunts me a little.
  • Day four and we walk a bit further in search of a bowel movement. She is peeing a lot – is it the Kidneys?– she stops and sniffs around raising my hopes but no, she pees again.  It reminds me of the quest for an orgasm “Don’t be goal oriented, just enjoy the moment”   We walk, meet other dogs, birds fly over, the strong wind blows little sandstorms into our faces, then she starts to sniff the ground and circle around a special patch of grass. “Is this it?  Come on darling, just relax.’ No she just pees again.
  • I was happy that she started eating so well after the surgery then I told the vet and he said, ‘the cancer needs to be fed – it will make her hungry’.  That thought doesn’t help me when I am planning what to put in her bowl.  I need to find a new way of dealing with my thoughts.
  • When she dies – if it is in weeks or months or even years from now – I will miss her face, the feel of her fur, the way she brightens up at the sight of a ball, the ease of her company, her muzzle pressed into my hand, her silent almost invisible presence at my heels when we walk. So now and every day I want to really enjoy her, in this moment, fully present not in a worrying anxious over-protective way, but just being with her 100%.

I have no idea how many people read this blog. And I don’t know who you are.  I am lucky if I get one comment after each post and so have decided to turn this apparent failure into something positive and to free myself to write what I want.  I don’t know what you want to read but I am very clear about what I want to write so starting now, here is what matters to me.

The Loneliest Emu in the World

~ Kate Wilson ~ 2 Comments

Last week Bonnie and I went for a walk in Mont Negre with our friends Oreneta and Chuck.
Oreneta had met an angry emu the week before and we decided to avoid that path and stick to the main route. But not far around the corner, at a large watering hole from the recent rain, there she was. She didn’t bother with us, just walked away

Later we were sitting at a view point overlooking Barcelona and there she was again, walking slowly down the hot dusty road. Perhaps she wanted to see if anyone had left food at the picnic area but seeing so many people there she just passed by.   She seemed so lonely there in this alien place.

 A little later she came back and headed back up over the hill. Perhaps she escaped from a worse fate on an emu farm. Apparently emus are great survivors in hard conditions so good luck to her!

Borrassà

~ Kate Wilson ~ 1 Comment

People have told me not to look for a house in Borrassà as it smells of pig farming and yes perhaps it does have a country whiffy smell sometimes but so does Lamorna.
I like Borrassà very much.  Every time I arrive in the Emporda I go there for shopping and start relaxing as soon as I park in the small town square.
I don’t eat much meat myself and for most of my life I was totally vegetarian. The idea of pigs being reared in barns upsets me as do the conditions that all animals have to suffer as they live out lives in service to human beings.
But today I am sharing a photo of the butchers in Borrassa

It is strange to find in myself the possibility of liking a butchers shop but I do like this one. 
They are very friendly and non-intimidating. I don’t have any anxiety when I go in even thought I am not in my natural element – I have to speak Catalan and I need to talk meat about which I am almost completely ignorant.

So why do I go there?

To get food for Bonnie of course. After her tick disease I changed her diet onto one of raw meaty bones and it has taken me into many butchers shops and turned me at last into something more like a typical Catalan housewife.

I ask about liver and kidney, I buy whole skinned rabbits, I peer with interest at the pigs trotters, I try to buy green tripe (impossible to find so far), I stop the butcher from removing the chicken’s head and feet.
“No, I want all of it!”  I say confidently.

What a difference from the old days!  When I tried to buy chicken breast and came home with all the parts, not knowing what to do with it. Now I would know

The Dog Walking Group

~ Kate Wilson ~ 2 Comments

A few months ago a fellow dog walker in the New Park (Park Lledoner is its real name) told me about a group that goes walking with dogs once a month in Sant Pere de Vilamajor.    The walks are organised by the Associacio Vilanimal, an organisation that rescues, cares for and, where possible, rehomes animals around Cardedeu.

I joined the Facebook group and every day am tempted by the faces of lost and abandonned dogs and cats, kittens and puppies. The group is run by dedicated volunteers and they now have a shop in the centre of Cardedeu although they rely on foster carers to look after the animals at home.

Today we went on our first walk.  Everyone met at a car park in Sant Pere de Vilamajor and about 50 people and 30 dogs went for a stroll in the hills in the evening sunshine

One of my favourites was Bruc, a Catalan shepherd dog, who reminded me very much of a bearded collie that I know.  He was full of fresh energy.  He raced up and down the pack, barking wildly and occasionally setting off little battles of wills. We walked for two hours to the sound of his owners voices calling “Bruc Bruc!  Come back here Bruc”

But the only one who could control him was a beautiful Golden Retriever who had taken on the role of Group Marshall and when she snapped at Bruc he would stop his antics, for a few minutes

There was a moment of worry when a small brown dog accompanying a couple with a baby in a sling got overcome with the excitement and the evening heat.  She went into a fit of panting and shaking and had to be carried part of the way home. But in the end she recovered totally and was able to walk to her car

Bonnie was a bit overwhelmed by the crowds and her favourite part was when we stopped by a stream to drink and have a pee and the rest of the group disappeared over the hill. Her tail started to wag and the bounce returned to her step.

She seemed to be saying ‘ thank God we’ve lost that lot…. now we can enjoy our walk’

But I think it did her good in the end as everyone, dogs and people, were friendly and sociable and it is what she needs to help her overcome her recent fears.  And as always she was very popular with everyone she met.     We went for tapas afterwards in Sant Antoni de Vilamajor……………

Potatoes in Catalunya

~ Kate Wilson ~ 4 Comments

Yes!  They are ready!
It was very exciting to go to the hort on Monday, armed with a new fork with red prongs, and start exploring around the now very bushy plants.
Suddenly there were potatoes – lots of them!  Both varieties did very well – Charlotte and Pentland. Of course I forgot to label which rows were which (is anyone that organised?) but I am pretty sure the Charlottes are on the left and the Pentlands on the right.

Is there anything more satisfying than digging up your own potatoes?
Yes there is – eating them!

Lightly boiled, slathered in salty butter and garnished with mint from the terrace.
We had salmon and broad beans and a bottle of wine to accompany them
In the sunshine on the terrace – bliss.

 And in case you are missing Bonnie here she is today – a seasoned traveller now on the trains. We went to Cardedeu for our Spanish conversation hour and she was please to find another dog further down the carriage – that’s why she looks so concentrated.