Kenzo

Posts Tagged Kenzo

Endless Love: Celebrate it EVERY Day.

Valentine’s Day: a day that I used to look forward to but now means the anniversary of having Mela suddenly and traumatically pulled from my life. The Christmas decorations stayed up this year longer than usual. The Valentine’s Day decorations usually follow and I struggled to decide whether I would find it too difficult to recognize the significance of a “holiday” that I now view with soul crushing sadness. Ultimately, I decided to put them up as a tribute to my love for them. Not only to Mela, who crossed the rainbow bridge that day last year, but also to my beloved Kenzo who followed behind her only 4 months and 1 day later. For much of the time right after losing Kenzo, my mind was in a very dark place. I functioned but it was all on the outside. I function better now because nearly 6 weeks after losing my perfect Boo, I was moved to add another dog to my life. I owe her an introductory article all of her own, so for now, just know that she exists and that her name is Meridiana, Meri for short. So I still exist in this realm because I chose to, not because I wanted to. I knew that Kenzo and Mela would have wanted me to choose to. But it was and is still is, very hard to be without the physical presence of those you love so deeply.

I try every day to be bright for Meri’s sake. I think that I succeed most days. Some days I even feel somewhat human. But most days inside, the love that I have for Mela and Kenzo is there so vehemently with no solid landing place. So, I talk to them. My very wise friend Dana calls the rituals that we use to cope with extreme loss “active coping”. I would have to agree. They are not only my connection to my beloved babies, they are my connection to my past self who will never exist again. We change with extreme loss. We learn how to move forward because we have to if we choose to go on living and we should choose that. But we construct new personas out of what remains of our old personas. There will always and forever be that layer of intense grief where we are a literal second away from an ugly cry because of. With time, we learn to hold it together more easily but it’s always still there. It always will be. I can be transported to the day that I knew my life would change because something was off with Merlin in a mere second. It’s that close in my heart. And that is okay. I am told that my most recent grief experience is called cumulative grief because both losses were sudden and in a short time span of one another, though certainly one traumatic loss alone can shake your psyche to the core. I survive but I am changed forever. I am okay with that. We live. We learn.

What has not changed at all is my love for those I have lost. Through losing Mela and Kenzo back-to-back, I now feel that I sort of have Merlin, Siri, and Trent back. Not in the physical form. But back here in my life in the form that they took after crossing the bridge but chose to stay and watch over me. No, I did not forget Kera. I am told (and can feel) that she chose to move on with another life after she crossed the bridge years ago. I am sorry that I failed her somehow, but I wish her all of the happiness. I am comforted on a daily basis that the rest of them will remain with me for the balance of this life. I knew that shortly after they crossed and I always look for signs from them but now I feel like we are all here together much more cohesively. I realize that this may be a bit too woo woo for some who may read this and that is your prerogative. But as I said, my rituals are active coping for *me* and I care only how *I* feel about what I believe, as it doesn’t harm anyone else. Let people like things, as I often say about other subjects when it only affects them.

My active coping rituals are many. One involves talking to all of my lost loves daily but especially when I am making my bed. All of their primary collars live under my pillow. I sleep wearing Kenzo’s rolled leather collar because I can. It fits. I gives me comfort. And that is okay. It’s necklace length on me. It would probably be some sort of fashion statement if I did it during the day. That makes me smile. Active coping also involves allowing myself to cry when I need to and the intense longing to touch them again, especially Mela and Kenzo. Those two were my only sudden losses and I feel like they had more life to live here, but that is likely because I miss them so very much. Sometimes they “talk” back. Not as much as when they first crossed the bridge and sometimes I really have to listen but listen I do.

My love for them is endless. Endless love really does exist. It never wanes. I feel it all of the time. My heart aches with it and there is nowhere to put it, outside of my active coping rituals. So this Valentine’s Day, I will cry for my losses but I will also celebrate the fact that I received the incredible gift of loving these dogs enough to miss their physical presence so very much. I will also celebrate having Meri in my life now. Love them all fiercely while they are still in your physical presence. Every day counts. But when they do cross the rainbow bridge, love them the same then as well, as they *do* feel your love when they are gone from this realm, and they want you to feel their love right back at you.

The beautiful banner art used here, that was commissioned for me by Cameo Anderson, shows that she knows this as well and was inspired to create it exactly that way. No one asked for the words that she wrote. She chose them. I choose to believe that my dogs inspired them. I thank them and her and my friend Jim, who commissioned the piece for me to try and help me heal. I will always cherish this beautiful gift. This is also part of my active coping as I think it was intended to be. So today on Valentine’s Day, celebrate those you love, both in this realm and beyond.

Tags: active coping, animal communication, cumulative grief, endless love, forever love, grief, grief anniversaries, Kenzo, kera, learning to live with loss, living with grief, love, loving a dog, loving a dog forever, Mela, Merlin, pet loss, rainbow bridge, Siri, trent, valentine's day

Posted in: Projects

Kenzo: A Love Story

Kenzo, my love, my Boo: April 20, 2012-June 15, 2022

“Where do I begin to tell the story of how great a love can be, the sweet love story that is older than the sea, the simple truth about the love he brings to me, where do I start?” (Lyrics from the song Love Story, in the movie of the same name.)

Kenzo as a puppy

There is so much to say but there are no adequate words to truly say how much this dog means to me and how much I love him and how much I will miss him every second of every day. He came into my life at a very dark time, when I, Siri and Trent were still deep in a dark depression over losing Merlin in September of 2011 and then Kera passed on June 1st of 2012. His “little” furry self was plopped into my arms by my dear friend Jackie, his breeder, with deep gratitude on my part. He was her gift (with permission from me), to help heal our hearts. You can read all about that here in Meeting Kenzo! His sweet kindness and his sense of humor lightened our pain and enabled us to move forward towards the light again. Our little family was able to smile and laugh once more.

Fast forward to April of 2015 and Siri passed away at 13-1/2, leaving us in sadness again but with my boys by my side, we forged on. I, Kenzo, and Trent even drove all the way to the tip of the coast of Maine together that fall and had an amazing adventure. But we were feeling incomplete and a bit lost. That November, Mela caught my eye on a found dogs site. She joined our family just before Thanksgiving of that year. She and Kenzo played beautifully together until my poor Boo busted his first ACL in January of the next year. But we were still very happy together.

Kenzo (right), mom Nova on left

Then Trent crossed the bridge just after Thanksgiving of 2018 at 14-1/2. and it’s been just Boo and Mela since then. We felt complete. Oh, I occasionally thought about adding but I never had a dog catch my eye. But then she was ripped out of our lives suddenly on Valentine’s Day of this year at only about 7 years of age. And it was far too soon and so suddenly, leaving only he and I, and we were crushed. We tried but never seemed to fully feel normal.

His enjoyment of many things seemed to wane quite a bit initially, but he bounced back more quickly than I did. I did my best to not break down in his presence, saving my tears for in the car between clients and when upstairs, either in the shower or getting the bedroom ready for the evening before heading back downstairs for evening cuddles with him, having ice cream and me having tea and a book, then me curled around his back while he rested on his bed in the living room. During our outings, and even when out in our own yard, it became obvious that he had been motivated to be more physically active by Mela’s endless energy, and that was now gone. There was no Mela crittering while he watched with interest, while lying in the yard, making sure that the neighbors behaved themselves.

I threw everything that I had into keeping him healthy. He had laser therapy every week to ten days, the chiropractor visits 40 minutes away bi-weekly and acupuncture once a month. His appetite never waned. He was my biggest joy, with his always gentle nature and obvious love of life and thorough enjoyment of food and all things edible. His adorable sense of humor made me smile so many times throughout the day. He would throw his head around and “bitch” when I came home while I inhaled his scent with my face in his fur, laying on the floor by his side while rubbing his chest. Our re-connections were one of my favorite parts of my day. Similar to when we said good morning. His “purring” when I kissed him as he stretched his limbs out to greet the day and then threw his head sideways in a sassy “good morning” warmed my heart. His favorite activities included: sniffarris in the park and in the woods; walking/laying in creek/ocean/lake water; laying in any grass and watching the world, whether it be humans or wildlife; and of all nature, he loved snow the most, laying in it, eating it, walking in it, etc.; searching through his snuffle mat; his evening doggie ice cream followed by bully bites; his daily afternoon “alley walk” was usually joyously embraced; he rejoiced in riding in the back of the Armada, like the king he was; “borking” at the neighbors when exiting the back door to his yard “kingdom”; sniffing out groundhogs on our walks; laying in the yard and listening to the world outside of our privacy fence.

Kenzo’s favorite weather

As time went by, I noticed that his bark seemed different sometimes. It went back and forth, and I dismissed it as drainage, like my allergies gave me. But then I came across the term laryngeal paralysis, and he got tested for it and it was confirmed that he had a mild case. It took him nearly a week to recover from what was a mild anesthesia, but he had such a sensitivity to stronger ones, that it was thought that a mild one would be fine. His body handled it but he was sensitive to stress and I feel awful that I stole a week of emotional good feeling for something that never was able to be addressed further, when he was struck down with liver cancer such a short time later. I had asked for a referral for tie-back surgery to see if that was a viable option, but he didn’t make it to even having the appointment scheduled.

The universe decided that I needed further trauma in my life and just about three short weeks after his diagnosis, after a perfectly normal evening with all of our normal togetherness and happiness, he was suddenly acting “off”. He sometimes was a bit dramatic with wanting me to get into bed (instead of on the floor with him when it was warmer) so that he could stretch out where he wanted and go to sleep so I did but I was a bit chastising, and I so regret that now. He kept moving around and he could not get comfortable so I started to worry that he might be bloating so I got up to look at him and he looked “off”. I asked him if he wanted to “go to the doctor” He knows what that means, and he immediately got up. We arrived at PVSEC at just after midnight and they took him right in. I waited hours for a phone call from the ER vet, which finally came at about 4AM. She said he either had cancer or a systemic infection and that I had to decide what I wanted done. Her bedside manner was atrocious, and I was feeling punched in the gut further. I told her that I wanted whatever it took but we agreed to some bacteria drawing and X-rays to start with. Another call when that was complete, and it became clear that he needed admitted and a hefty deposit would be required. She was leaning towards systemic infection, again with an atrocious bedside manner. While not an easy to “fix” diagnosis, it was the better option.

Kenzo’s last walk in the park

I frantically tried to get my Care Credit limit raised (successfully) and reached out to friends for assistance with the deposit. The help that I received was humbling and I will forever be grateful. I was told to go home around 7AM and that “no news was good news” and “please don’t call before 10AM”. At only around 10:30 AM, I answered the phone with my breath held. This critical care veterinarian was much kinder and more forthcoming with information but unfortunately, it was not good news. An ultrasound revealed multiple liver tumors with mets in his abdomen. The prognosis was not good, even with surgery, for which with his sensitivity with anesthesia would be very concerning. I was given the option of allowing him to cross the bridge there, proceed with surgery and maybe lose him on the table or take him home and help him cross at home with an in-home vet. I chose the last option. Losing him on the table wasn’t a chance that I was willing to take and having to say goodbye to him in that setting was just too much pain. So, he left this world far too soon at home, with my arms around him, in the same room that Mela was taken from us so suddenly.

I am now left alone and mourning my two beautiful babies at once, but I am relieved that he is free of the obvious pain and discomfort that came on so fast after a normal evening. I don’t know why the universe is so cruel sometimes but because it cannot be trusted, you must treat every single day as if it might be the last one that you spend with your loved ones. Tell them that you love them all the time. Show them that you love them all the time. Try hard to not have regrets because those regrets will haunt you so many times daily, that you will think that you might go mad. I have not been dogless since the late 90’s and I cannot think of another situation that brings me this much heartache. Your positive energy is welcome. Knowing how many lives that Kenzo touched helps greatly. I want his legacy to be forever. His was a legacy of kindness and compassion and laughter. I will try very hard to embrace that daily. But for now, the laughter is missing. Instead, I will mourn and speak endlessly of how much Kenzo meant to me.

Baby Boo, I will think of you every moment of every day with such love that will be endless. You are together with Mela and I hope that you both show me that you are here with me, watching over me.

Tags: dog loss, greiving a dog, grief, heartbreak, Kenzo, loving a dog, mourning a dog, my perfect boo, pet loss, rainbow bridge

Posted in: Projects

Half the Man He Used to Be: Kenzo After the Neutering

It’s been almost two months since Kenzo was stripped of his manhood, just two short days after his first birthday. I am nothing but delighted with the results! I admit that I had normal dog parent fears of anesthesia and surgery and “oh my god, am I doing the right thing” ideas rolling around my head. I have a personal completely unwarranted terror of anesthesia so the phone call telling me that Kenzo came through surgery successfully was extremely welcome and relieving. But aside from those thoughts that were quickly displaced, the outcome of such a surgery has been very pleasing all around.

Why, you ask? I shall tell you, dear reader. The crew’s interactions are so much calmer and there is less consternation on my part than before surgery. Kenzo spends far less time obsessing about Siri’s lady parts than before (and she has been spayed for more than ten years!) and for that, she is also eternally grateful to be sure.

Trent appears to be far less threatened by Kenzo, despite the fact that Kenzo has grown quite a bit. Trent now initiates play on a regular basis and is less likely to be worried about Kenzo’s approach towards him on any surface than he was prior to the surgery. He is also far more likely now to appropriately let Kenzo know when he is either being too forward or he wants to be left alone. Trent’s typical response to such a scenario pre-surgery was overkill. Having him be more relaxed about normal daily interactions is enough of a reason to be grateful.

Rest time on the hike — with a recently neutered Kenzo

Interestingly, although Kenzo is certainly far more likely to obsess about smells than most dogs I have come across, he is easier to redirect now that his more primal instinct has had the edge taken off of him.

The strangest development has been in his eating habits. As many of you who follow my blog on a regular basis know, I feed a raw diet. Kenzo had started to be what I can only describe as suspicious, of some meals, in the last few weeks prior to neutering. Once neutered, that trait completely disappeared and he once again embraced his meals with his prior gusto. To say that this made me happy is a vast understatement! Worrying about what to feed a growing giant breed dog is not something you want on your plate, so to speak!

The final test of things that changed, that I had been eagerly awaiting, was his venture to the dog social that I had taken him too since he was much younger. The closer that he got to his one year birthday, the more likely he was to be harassed at the gate by neutered males who felt threatened by his intact status. He had started obsessing over their dislike of him and I would have to follow him all over the room, preventing him from “asking the dog why he disliked him”. That was the best way I could figure out to describe his obsession with them AFTER they greeting him with excessive snarking. He wanted to play with them and ONLY them then. It was exhausting and the primary reason I stopped taking him until his surgery. I did not want him to start reacting to their snarking. In addition to that response, he had started to also develop an obsession with humping the Golden he usually played best with.

I am thrilled to report that only one neutered male felt threatened this time and to a much lesser extent than previously experienced. Kenzo was very easily redirected from this rejection than in the past. As for this past humping behavior, it disappeared. He and Jimmer, his Golden playmate, played well and happily, taking turns with growly spithead. A grand time was had by all. Kenzo played so hard and well that he took the opportunity to rest before social was over. That was unheard of in the past.

I am sure that the naysayers are still going to tsk-tsk at what I chose to do, but as is the old saying, what is done is done. It cannot be undone thankfully. Being a professional dog trainer/behavior consultant doesn’t mean that I have the desire to be “on” all the time in my own household. Aside from standard manners and impulse control training, having altered males in a multiple male household makes a huge difference in greatly reducing the stress on all parties. I will happily continue to recommend it to clients.

Feel free to comment on both sides of the issue in the spaces below but keep your comments polite if you want others to see them! Thanks for playing nicely.

Tags: appropriate, calm, dog, dogs, force, grown, how, Kenzo, many, McMullen, neuter, neutering, obsession, play, positive, smell, snark, social, spay, surgery, threat, train, worried

Posted in: Projects

And Puppy Makes Three: Introducing Kenzo

This is not the hardest blog I have had to write but it’s definitely way up there. I have been procrastinating writing it in order to avoid the reality of the situation. That situation being of course, that Merlin and Kera really are gone, not just on vacation or something.

You would think that introducing a puppy into a household would be a cause for celebration. Of course it is, don’t misunderstand me, but it also brought so many feelings to the surface that I have been trying very hard to not feel. The sadness of loss is never more evident than when you are trying to fill the void caused by said loss.

To say that this household was in need of a jolt of some happiness would be a serious understatement. Puppies are nothing if not a smile made of fur. So what is the problem then, right? Well, the timing was probably not the best in the world, with Kera’s passing just a couple of weeks prior to the puppy in question turning the magic age of eight weeks.

Kenzo, the new crew member.

I had so hoped that Kera would stick around to meet little Kenzo but it was not meant to be. She liked having new life in the house. A few months before we lost her, I had a client’s Bulldog puppy for two days and she came right out to greet her with a smile. Her joy was evident.

I should back up a bit for some background information. A very dear and generous friend presented me with the idea of this precious gift to me when the mother (a rare breed) was bred. As most of you know, I have always had rescue dogs so I would not have chosen to get a breeder pup at that time. Not that it is a bad thing. Not at all but rescue was my thing then. I would have chosen to haunt Petfinder with the hope of finding the perfect new addition, when I was ready. But adding a male, which is what I wanted, would be a job since Merlin and Kera were the confident members of my crew. Siri and Trent especially would feel threatened by all but the perfect dog. So adding a puppy was an attractive (for them) thought.

When the idea of the puppy was presented to me, I was not at all ready. I said that I would consider it. I would know when it was closer to the time to make such a decision. My friend later emailed me that the puppy that she had in mind for me, who I already had pictures of by this time, had an issue with his eyes that he may or may not grow out of. They vibrated with his pulse when he was stressed. I felt, when told that, that he belonged here. Maybe that made him more of a rescue in my eyes; maybe it made him just slightly off center, like the rest of my dogs and me. Whatever the reason, it was then I knew.

But knowing and doing are two different things. Between knowing and doing, we lost Kera and a whole new set of grieving patterns emerged. Now I was not only grieving Merlin, I was grieving Kera and Merlin and a lost way of life. It started to look like I would have to make a decision to make things better by forcing a change or to stay in a state of depression that would be very easy to settle into. Change is difficult. Few people truly welcome it. It’s far easier to stay with what you know, no matter how miserable you actually are.

So Kenzo joined us, ready or not. Siri and Trent were clearly getting as used to depression as I was and I could not allow that to happen. They had not played for more than a minute or two since Merlin left us. Kera was not one to play much recently. Merlin played every night almost up until his passing. I missed that so much and I wanted play back in our lives.

At first, resentment was the primary emotion exhibited by Siri and to an extent, Trent. Trent, to give him credit, showed much more immediate interest in Kenzo, seeing perhaps an opportunity to be the top dog he never has been with the other crew members. Kenzo was properly respectful.

Siri, on the other hand, spent so much time under the living room end table that we had an emergency room visit for a pulled neck muscle. A week into Kenzo’s tenure here, with some muscle relaxers and pain medication in her system, she investigated Kenzo and found to her delight, that he welcomed her advances, in all it’s roughness. Siri has always been, along with Merlin, my crew member most fond of puppies. Kenzo brought that trait back out again finally, with a vengeance. Now she “rolls” him nightly. She is getting more exercise, something else that fell by the wayside when the playing paused.

Trent started to feel jealous that Siri was only playing with Kenzo. Trent and Siri are thick as thieves but that relationship has had some kinks when the playing halted. Siri and Trent are now renewing their mutual fondness for playing and this has helped Trent be more welcoming to playing with Kenzo.

I know that I will have to keep an eye on the interactions as far as playing goes, as Kenzo grows and matures. But things feel a lot more hopeful now. I wish that it meant that no tears are falling now. But that would not be true. Trying to fill a void caused some feelings of betrayal to my lost loves on my part. But In know that neither Merlin nor Kera would want this house to be filled with tears. They would want laughter and joy, especially Merlin, who lived his life with fun being the number one priority. So I am trying very hard to honor that desire without feeling guilty. I think he would be pleased. I think they both would be.

Tags: caucasian ovcharka, caucasian shepherd, filling the void, heartbreak, Kenzo, loss, mourning a dog, new addition, new puppy

Posted in: Projects