Happy Halloween! Don’t forget to watch out for landsharks posing as trick-or-treaters. They’re treacherous, those landsharks.

(Costume from Target.)

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Hi. I’m back. And with good news.

Introducing Ferris! He’s my 18-week-old Pomeranian puppy.

There’s so much to say about this. Such a whirlwind of emotions: Joy, nostalgia, guilt, amusement, frustration… And that was just in the last 20 minutes. So much has changed for me since I lost Bliss and even since the last time I wrote on this blog. My life doesn’t resemble what it did before. Not to get into too much detail and make everyone all uncomfortable and squirmy (don’t you hate it when you ask people how they are and they actually tell you how they are?), but seriously, almost everything has changed since I posted in July of last year.

But back to Ferris. After 20 months, I finally decided I was ready for a new dog, and debated whether or not I wanted another Keeshond. I love the breed. Bliss was everything I wanted in a dog and more. But there were a couple of issues. First, at 30-50 pounds, a Keeshond would be too large for the small place I’m renting, and second (and more importantly), I didn’t want to try to replace Bliss.

I’d considered a Pomeranian before I found Bliss, and revisited that idea. After meeting several, I found a little guy who met what I wanted in my next dog but whose size, color (he’ll get redder with his adult coat), and gender would be far enough removed from Bliss to help avoid comparison. I brought him home last week.

And here’s where I get honest with y’all (because if I can’t be honest, why bother writing?). It’s been a bit of a struggle.

Ferris is freaking adorable. He’s smart, bouncy, active, and alert. I chose him because although he was initially a little aloof, when I picked him up he nuzzled under my chin and gave me little doggy kisses. I saw how he acted with his owners (playful and attentive) and I knew that with socialization, he’d come out of his shell a little. But although he can be affectionate, now that I know him it’s not necessarily how I’d first characterize him. “Feisty” would be a better word.

I began to get concerned when I saw a couple of instances of resource guarding. He only did it twice, but of course, my mind unfairly harkened back to Bliss whom we could never get to growl outside of playtime. This little dude at 17 weeks was already doing it. Family and friends told me it’s just a “puppy thing,” but I know better. This is the kind of thing that can escalate quickly and become a real problem later. In our first vet visit, I brought it up. Although he was gold with the vet, an assistant abruptly stuck her head in the room and Ferris started growling and barking.

“Yeah,” the vet said, “you may have an aggression problem here. This is going to need constant attention, and probably an individual trainer.” She went on in that manner until she saw my crestfallen face and stopped, saying, “I’m sorry. Probably not what you wanted to hear.” It wasn’t, especially on that day (again with the personal things, but just know that date was significant and hurtful). I took Ferris back to my car and bawled until I damn near dehydrated.

I already had a training class scheduled, but thought a trainer visit couldn’t hurt. She came over on Sunday and evaluated Ferris. She didn’t see the same thing the vet did. “Well, resource guarding isn’t great,” she said, “but it’s early enough to deal with. I don’t see aggression. He’s a pretty independent little guy, and he’s never going to be a dopey, wiggly-with-strangers type. But he may get more outgoing with socialization.” I was okay with that.

But here’s the thing. Here’s the really honest, I-suck-as-a-human-being kind of thing. I haven’t really bonded with Ferris yet. I enjoy him, I think he’s adorable, but… But. I knew he wasn’t going to be Bliss, but then… you know… he wasn’t. Bliss was pure sweetness through and through. Ferris is sharp and wily. Bliss just wanted to be near me. Ferris wants to see how much he can get away with. Bliss needed me. Ferris needs what I give him. I play with him, I give him tons of affection, we’ve begun training, and I’ve gone above and beyond what a puppy needs. But it just doesn’t feel the same.

And it’s so unfair to Ferris. So, so, so unfair. Bliss had the advantage of following a real problem dog (he was neurologically impaired, had seizures starting at 11 weeks, was aggressive, and died at 2 years old), so anything she did was an improvement. And her sweet nature was so irresistible I bonded with her instantly. Ferris looks sweet, but he’s actually kind of edgy. He’s just a little harder to connect with.

But then after some significant soul-searching I realized I’ve put way too much pressure on the dude. Not only did I expect him to be Bliss (yes I did), but Bliss without all of her own set of faults. I also expected him to take care of everything else that’s going on in my life and make me instantly happy. Because if a puppy can’t make me happy, what can, right? Wow. That’s a huge burden for a 4-pound puppy.

So I’m giving him (and myself) a break. We’re working on what we can work on now, and I’m forgiving myself for feeling the way I do. I’m celebrating his victories and his differences, and trusting that all good things take time. Amazing things take time plus faith plus work. Lots and lots of work. I think we’re both up for it.

…And now excuse me while I deter Ferris from taking the drapes down.

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It’s been a little over six months since we lost Bliss.

Some of her toys are still here (I’m looking at them now), there’s a big box of unused food and product samples in the garage (they’re headed to a charity, I promise), and I’m still sweeping errant tufts of cottony fluff from corners and under furniture.

I made egg salad today and expected her to come running in when I tapped the eggs on the counter (eggs were her favorite). If I drop a bit of food on the floor, my first thought is still, “Bliss will get that.” I still find myself lunging to close the door when my horrible cooking sets off the smoke detector because she’d tremble for an hour whenever it went off.

I miss her. I go for morning walks, but it seems so stupid. What’s the point of going for a walk without a dog? I’m working from home a lot these days, and there’s no one to talk to, and no fluffball sighing at my feet. And coming in the front door without her telling the whole neighborhood about it just seems… anticlimactic.

Friends and relatives ask me if we’re going to get another dog. I had a dream about a week ago in which my husband asked me to bring the dog in. I started calling for Bliss. He said, “Oh, no, honey. We don’t have her anymore. She died.” He gave me the name of our new dog. I sobbed, “But I don’t know how to call for another dog!” Clearly, I haven’t finished grieving for her and I’m apparently not ready for another dog.

I’ve received some very nice emails advising me to consider starting this blog again. You all are very kind. But the thing is, I don’t have a dog. I’m not a pet owner any longer. I don’t buy dog products, I don’t look at pet blogs, I don’t walk down the pet supply aisles in grocery stores. So really, how qualified am I to continue this blog? How compelling is it for you to read a site called “My Dog Bliss” if there is no Bliss?

But when the site came up for renewal a couple of weeks ago, I renewed it. And I’m here throwing words on a page for whomever might see it. And I know, someday, I’ll get another dog. I can’t imagine life without one.

But for now, I don’t know how to call for another dog.

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We said goodbye to Bliss on Monday.

Bliss’ health had been steadily declining since Thanksgiving. One by one, we saw her lose the things she loved: playing catch with her stuffed toys, going on walks, and even rolling over on her back to receive belly rubs. Just getting up and down became increasingly difficult and painful for her, and maneuvering stairs was out of the question. We fashioned a make-shift sedan chair out of a cardboard box so we could carry her up and down the stairs to our backyard. She hated it.

Still, her appetite was good, and her spirit was intact. It was hard seeing her body turn on her. She still wanted to do all of her fun Bliss things, but they only caused her pain and frustration.

We tried new pain medication. It helped a little, but not much. She cried all day and all night. I moved to the couch and stayed with her every night so my husband could get some sleep, but she could be heard all throughout the house. It was physically and emotionally draining for all of us.

Then on Sunday at about 3:00 am, she started panting. The panting turned to whining which turned to crying which turned to something I could only describe as screaming. It was horrible. I tried comforting her, but nothing worked. I sat helpless as my little girl endured something that must have been excruciating. I gave her an extra dose of her pain medication, though she wasn’t due for another 12 hours. It eventually seemed to take the edge off and she dozed off into a fitful sleep.

We knew then it was time.

Monday morning, I gave her extra pain medication to help make her as comfortable as possible, and made an appointment for that evening. I’m still not sure how I found the strength to make that phone call.

Bliss and I settled in for a “girl day” of bad TV and good snacks. She had as many cookies and Greenies as she wanted, and about an hour before the vet arrived she had another dose of pain medication along with her favorite dish: scrambled eggs and shredded cheese. My husband arrived home in plenty of time to give her lots of attention and ear rubs. She was having one of her “good” days; clearly still uncomfortable, but not in the kind of pain we’d seen before. Of course, this was probably due to all the extra medication, but it was making it extra hard to see our decision through. We wavered, but then remembered the screaming, and knew we had to do it.

The vet arrived right on time. He was kind, compassionate, and everything you’d want from a vet in that situation, but nothing could buffer us from the horror and grief of watching that lovely creature, our beloved friend, companion, and family member, slip away from us. That memory will haunt us forever.

And now there is a gaping hole in our family, one that can never be filled. Sure, we could get another dog, maybe even another Keeshond. But Bliss was a once-in-a-lifetime dog. There was something about her that, as my husband said, transcended “dog.” So smart, so happy, so funny and good-natured, and everyone who met her recognized it immediately. Not a mean bone in that body. Never once growled or snapped. Always happy to go where you’re going. Always happy to be where you are. And always, always providing unconditional love. There’s no getting Bliss back.

We already miss her terribly. No longer does she herald our arrival home with her “inside voice” of baroos and howls. No more jumping on our son’s bed to gleefully awaken him. No more bows and high-fives. And no more soft sighs when she settles in for the night, the sigh that lets us know that all is well in the world.

We can’t possibly repay her for all the joy she’s given us. And the one small consolation we have for deciding to end her life – especially when she was having a good day – is that we stopped the pain. We opted to make it harder on us so it would be easier on her. We removed all possibility of repeating that horrific, painful night and let her go in peace and comfort.

I’m not exactly sure where dogs go and what memories they take with them. But my hope is that, wherever she is, she’ll remember that her last day on earth was stormy and wet, but she was dry and cozy at my feet. I hope she’ll remember all the treats, and all the pets, and the great big bowl of eggs and cheese brought right to her. I hope she remembers us, at the last moments, holding her and telling her she was a good girl, good girl, good girl.

And I hope, above all, she’ll remember that she was loved.

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Oh hey! Bliss is “Dog of the Day” on Dogster! Bliss would like to thank all of her fans who helped make this happen (though she doesn’t really know how it happened).

Check her totally out on Dogster!

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Bliss helps with the laundry

Thank you all so much for your kind words. It really means a lot to us.

I thought I could continue this blog while Bliss was ailing. I couldn’t. Every time I looked at a new dog product, it would upset me. “How long,” I would wonder, “will she be able to enjoy this?” (And then there was the unfortunate meltdown in the dog section of Old Navy, but we won’t go into that right now.)

I do plan on continuing this blog at some point. I don’t know what it will become, but I have a few ideas I’m working on. For right now, though, I need to concentrate on keeping Bliss as comfortable and happy as possible.

She’s not doing very well right now. We started to see a pretty definite decline a couple of weeks ago, and we don’t think she has much time left. Although her spirits are mostly good and she has a healthy appetite (she still hasn’t met a cookie she didn’t like), walking upstairs is proving painful and she seems to be in a fair amount of discomfort a lot of the time. The good news is we were hoping she would make it through Christmas, and she did. Any time we have left with her we’re considering to be an extra bonus round, and we’re thankful for it.

We’re exploring our options right now, but we know we’re going to make some hard decisions soon.

Thanks again for your prayers and good thoughts. As always, hugs to your pups.

Keri & Bliss

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Last week I took Bliss to our vet for what we thought was a urinary tract infection. We went home with a diagnosis of transitional cell carcinoma of the bladder, and a life expectancy from weeks to months.

“Devastated” doesn’t begin to cover it.

Back in February we went out of town to visit relatives. I got a call from our dog sitter letting me know she noticed blood in Bliss’ urine. Worried, I asked our pet sitter to take her to emergency, and there they found something “odd” in her bladder. They thought it might be bladder stones, but she was put on an antibiotic with instructions to watch her. If the symptoms didn’t subside, it was probably stones, and we’d need to have them surgically removed. The symptoms went away, Bliss was her normal, happy self, and we moved on.

So when I again saw blood in her urine, I thought UTI, or at worst, stones. I brought her to our regular vet, where they performed an ultrasound on her bladder. Again they saw something odd. I gave them permission to do further ultrasounds, and that’s when they saw the enlarged lymph nodes throughout her abdomen. Samples sent to the lab confirmed what they suspected, and now, all of a sudden, our little girl has cancer.

There’s nothing they can do. The vet, as she was delivering the news, said “unfortunately” every other word. She was as kind as she could be, but there was just no hope to give us. There is no cure. No treatments, no surgery, nothing to do but to try to slow the cancer growth and to keep her as comfortable as possible.

I was not even remotely prepared for this. Bliss just turned nine, and I knew our time with her was growing shorter. But I expected a few more years, not months. I can barely remember what life was like before Bliss. She is a member of our family. We talk to her like she’s a person, and I kid you not, she responds. She is engrained in our everyday life; a comforting presence at our feet, a little shadow following us from room to room, a little brat who barks at everything. I’m not sure what we’re going to do without her.

We’re spending as much time with her as we can, and giving her everything her little heart desires. She still has a great appetite, and we’re supplementing her regular dog food with eggs (her favorite) and treats. She just started medication today, and we’re hopeful for good results. The rule here now is, “Everything Bliss likes, nothing Bliss doesn’t like.”

This is a difficult time for us. On the one hand, it’s hard knowing she’s going to be leaving us soon, on the other, I’m glad to have this little bit of time to pamper and spoil her, and also to mentally prepare. I’ve had other pets who’ve left suddenly, and not having an opportunity for closure was hard.

I’m not sure what’s going to happen with this site. For now, I’ll keep updating it, but the future of Dog Bliss is unknown.

Thanks very much for reading. Give your pups a big hug.

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Bliss and her Pet ID for Me magnet

So, Bliss was driving around the city the other night (as she does), checking out the studs at Dolores Park, blaring Snoop Dogg, and was pulled over by SFPD for rolling through a stop sign (or as we like to call it, a “California stop”).

This might have been a problem for any other dog, but Bliss whipped out her Pet ID for Me, a pet ID made to look like your home state’s driver license. The creators, Jason Harnum and Andrew Gallagher, have crafted these pet tags out of durable waterproof laminate, and all states are available. The ID includes your little rebel’s name, address, phone number (I’ve blurred those bits out), date of birth, and other identifying information. A 2 x 3 magnet with the same design is included free with your pet tag order, so you can post your pet’s outstanding traffic tickets on the refrigerator.

The cops let Bliss off with a warning, but I think I’ll take her keys away just to teach her a lesson. You have to draw the line somewhere.

Pet ID for Me
$20
P.S. Keep refreshing their home page until you see someone familiar.

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The main feature of this dog dish, besides the awesome interior colors, is its ergonomically correct shape. If you place it in line with your dog’s body, it conforms to the shape of your dog’s mouth. And that makes for a more comfortable eating experience, if your dog is into comfortable eating.

But what I like most about his dish is the little side receptacle for dessert, you know, like those TV dinners where they give you a miniscule rubber brownie or that apple cake with the molten cranberry topping that burns the crap out of the roof of your mouth. Like that, only different.

The Ritzy Rover
$26 – $32

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Whew…

After a few weeks of work, Bliss and I are proud to present a whole new design for “Dog Bliss”! We’re hoping this new layout will give us the flexibility to show off more doggie products and have room left over for events, public service announcements, and other dog-related stuff. And JELL-O. There’s always room for JELL-O.

Today is the perfect day to officially launch, as it’s Bliss’ ninth birthday. Happy birthday my little furball factory! She’s very excited about her ninth birthday, as you can tell from this photo.

We’re still working on adding features and ferreting out the last few bugs, so please bear with us during this transition. If you see anything wonky, please drop us an email at keri (at) mydogbliss (dot) com.

We have a lot of dog products waiting in the wings, and we’re ready to get back to the business of showing them off. Oh! And don’t forget we’re on Twitter, so please follow us!

Thanks for reading, and we’ll be barking at you soon. Or whining. Depends on our mood.

Keri & Bliss

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