Lap of Love -- It Takes A Village, Part 4

"Veterinary hospice is not about living longer, but about living better during the end."

Dr. Mary Gardner

(Co-Founder of Lap of Love Veterinary Hospice and In-Home Euthanasia, Inc.) 

A cold front moved in yesterday. Happy that it was no longer too hot for her, Maizey spent the afternoon in the yard with John and Buddy. 

“Come look at your dog,” motioned John through the open window. 


My dog? She’s only my dog when she’s being bad. I grabbed my camera to check things out. Cancer-stricken Maizey, who is supposedly hobbled by a painful shoulder, decided to dig a 2 dog-sized hole which provided the perfect hunting ground for snakies, aka lizards. At her last visit Dr. Katie prescribed a bland diet of chicken and kibble to keep Maizey's itching at bay.  Today that same dog had a lunch of dirt, worms and the tail a real snake (which she promptly threw up). This meal, convinced John, once and for all, that the renowned trainer who once said Maizey could never survive in the wild was wrong. 

John wants me to watch videos of what it could look like when Maizey begins to decline.  I don’t want to. I’d much rather watch that goofy dog's inner puppy play.  Which brings me to one of the most important parts of our Maizey support system -- our village.

After carefully examining all his options, John decided in home hospice and palliative care were the best ways to treat Maizey’s cancer.

"Founded in 2009 by Dr. Dani McVety and Dr. Mary Gardner, Lap of Love Veterinary Hospice and In Home Euthanasia is a network of veterinarians around the country whose goal is to empower every owner to care for their geriatric pets. Our philosophy centers around the human-animal bond and the need for that bond to be as undisturbed as possible during this most difficult time." lapoflove.com  

I'm a firm believer in hospice care for humans.  Hospice doctors, nurses, and caregivers have made my experiences nothing but positive. Still we* had no idea what to expect when we made an appointment for a hospice consultation. All we knew about Jacksonville’s Lap of Love came from the calm voice on the other end of the phone. A voice that assured me when I started crying, I'd called the right place. I don’t think I’m talking out of turn by saying that I’m easily swayed by kind words. John, on the other hand, is more of a I’ll-believe-it-when-I-see-it kind of guy. For obvious reasons, both of us were a tad anxious until the doctor arrived.

"Lap of Love is honored to have some of the most compassionate and empathetic vets working with us." lapoflove.com

A petite woman with a head full of riotous curls corralled in a Scrunchie, Dr. Katelyn "Katie" Stender walked in the back door like an old friend coming for coffee. Before she could even put her old-fashioned medical bag on the kitchen table she was greeted by two barking dogs galloping towards her.  What may look and feel like a stampede of wild buffalo is actually a game to see who can say hello first.  It can be somewhat intimidating and doesn’t say much for the amount of time and money spent on training.  Dr. Katie didn’t blink an eye. She dropped to the floor with her arms open to embrace both Maizey and Buddy. She traded stiff how-do-you-dos and handshakes for undignified sniffs and slobbery kisses. She gave no hint of the sad reason she was here. No, "oh poor Maizey." Her enthusiastic greeting was more like finally meeting a long lost relative, "Maizey, it's so good to see you." 

Any fears we might have had faded. The dogs quickly lost interest in the visitor for most of the consultation, but Dr.Katie cheerfully remained on the un-mopped kitchen floor. White dog hairs and un-defined crumbs attached themselves to her black leggings already baptized with Buddy slime.

After the initial greeting, Maizey decided to be coy. She circled through the den and kitchen to make sure Dr. Katie was still interested in her, but didn’t care much for being examined. With the skill of someone who has done it a thousand times, Dr. Katie slipped on her stethoscope, listened to Maizey’s heart and lungs, palpated Maizey’s cancerous shoulder and never missed a word John said. All this with jealous Buddy wanting his fair share of attention. As well as being a multi-tasker, Dr. Katie is smart, compassionate, present, inquisitive, and wears comfortable shoes festooned with little cat faces. The mom of two cats and a dog, this is a woman who takes her work seriously. 

It must be really hard to spend your days euthanizing beloved pets. So I had to ask, how does someone get into this line of work?

Dr. Katie gave up the idea of being a human doctor in her junior year at the University of FL and graduated with a degree in health science and public health. When a good friend suggested that she become a veterinarian, Dr. Katie went back to school to do just that. As a small town vet, she treated dogs, cats, and even a raccoon or two.

Dr. Katie’s first in-home euthanasia was for her mother-in-law’s kitty. When a friend asked if she’d do the same for her dog, Dr. Katie readily agreed. After determining the time was right, the three strolled outside to a beautiful, stress-free environment. Under a tree with the sun setting in the background was the perfect place to say a final farewell.  In that moment Dr. Katie knew this was what she was “meant to do.”  

Not long after that discovery, Dr. Katie started Jacksonville's Lap of Love. Along with her Lap of Love co-workers, Dr. Katie works in harmony with other area veterinarians. Although 95% of her appointments are euthanasias, Dr. Katie does not find the work draining. "Being able to share such a sacred moment with families as they said goodbye to their dearest companion is, simply, an honor." Dr. Katie especially loves getting a call after a difficult time to come meet a family’s new puppy or kitten. 

Call me nosy, but I had to know about that leather bag. I figured from the looks of its scarred leather the bag was a family heirloom — passed down, perhaps, through generations of family doctors. Nope. Dr. Katie gifted it to herself upon graduation from veterinary school. In only five years that bag has traveled across the state of Florida, into and out of the homes of grieving pet owners and taken on a patina of warm maple syrup. But Dr. Katie doesn't focus on the bag's weathered exterior.  Instead, as with a sick or aging patient, she treasures the gift it represents. Life worn smooth by love. 

I don’t know what it might have been like if John had opted for amputation and chemotherapy. Sure, we would have made it work. But I’m glad we didn't have to. I'm glad he chose Lap of Love. We haven't gotten to the hard part yet, but I have no doubt Maizey will be in good hands when the time comes to say goodbye. And those angel wings Dr. Katie talks about? I'm pretty sure the Divine Veterinarian in the sky sent Dr. Katie to earth with her very own set of wings. 

* I use the plural pronoun because even though John has the final say in all things Maizey, I'm copilot and navigator on this trip.

P.S. Shameless Public Service Announcement:
Lap of Love can be found in 30 states across the country. I can't say enough about this organization. I hope it never does, but if the need should ever occur that you need their services you can check them out here.

What A Difference A Day Makes

"... when we adopt a dog or any pet, 

we know it is going to eventually say goodbye, but we still do it. 

And we do it for one reason. 

They bring so much joy and optimism and happiness. 

They attack every moment of every day with that attitude." 

Bruce Cameron

Maizey continues to be an enigma, leaving us all, including the hospice doc, scratching our heads and wondering if she really does have cancer. At least once a day she puts Buddy in his place by besting him at a game of tug o’ war. If she can last long enough to wear him out, she counts it as a win, then lies down on the rug for a rest.herself. Her stamina has decreased but her spirit is as strong as ever.

If Maizey gets a bath, I want one too.

Early on in his relationship with Maizey, John learned she has allergies. After several trips to specialty vets, rounds of steroids and antibiotics, and trial and error, it’s still unclear what exactly she’s allergic to. Beef products and cat poo are definitely triggers. But oh how she loves those treats.  Because he thought Maizey only had a couple months to live, John decided he’d give her specialty cut steaks from the Public butcher.  Of course, we’re happy that the silly dog is still with us, but the steaks caused her to itch like crazy.  One of the downsides of outliving all life expectancy predictions is going back to a bland diet of kibble and chicken. No more rawhides. No more beef stroganoff. Even worse, a daily bath is in order until her skin settles down. 

Besides itchy skin, Doodle has a quarter sized hot spot on her tail. In order to lick it, she has to turn sideways and upside down. In doing so, she has developed a rug burn on the very tip of her nose. John has added Rudolph to her list of nicknames. 

Dr. Katie came by this week to see the miracle dog for herself. Of course, she was almost trampled by the dynamic duo, Buddy and Maizey running full speed to greet her. Buddy quickly discovered he was not the center of attention. Not to his 2nd child liking, he pulled out all the stops to gain Top Dog honors. First he tried the simple technique of looking cute. Next he offered to share his wet, stinky "la la" (Buddy's version of Linus's blanket) with the doctor. When all that failed, he jumped in Dr. Katie’s lap and gave her a big slobbery dog French kiss.  Maizey, on the other hand, hung back, played hard to get. But she watched every move Dr. Katie made. Finally she got close enough for a hands on examination. There’s no discernible mass growing, or noticeable pain while being poked and prodded.  Against all odds, Maizey’s terminal condition is progressing very slowly. That’s not to say something couldn’t change overnight.

And change it did. The next day, poor Maizey began limping. She didn’t want to put any weight on her paw and had a look in her sad brown eyes that said, “I don’t feel so hot.” Even with pain medication it was easy to see she hurt. John is pretty sure, osteosarcoma is not the culprit. Either she played too hard or slipped on the wood floors hopping out of bed. Still, it’s a foretaste of what is to come. None of us like it. 

The good news is that the death knell has not yet sounded. If Maizey makes it to the six month after diagnosis mark, she’ll get an X-ray for Christmas. That will tell a better story. For now, we watch and wait. We get down on the floor and lie beside her while she sleeps. We massage her joints and whisper "there, there" in her ear. We wrap her pain meds in cheese and hand feed them to her. We laugh at her ability to go from sleeping sick dog to alert protective dog in less than a nano second when she hears a UPS truck pass by. We don't let her see us cry. 

And we say prayers of gratitude to the Big Ball Thrower in the Sky for the extra time we have been given with our crazy Maizey.               

It Takes a Village Part 3

It’s one thing to make a picture of what a person looks like, 

it’s another thing to make a portrait of who they are.”

Paul Caponigro

 Maizey
September, 2017

One picture is never enough has been a constant theme in my family since my father went through his photography phase. Long before selfies became the norm, my father used his daughters as models. At some point on every birthday and Christmas we were posed on the burgundy vinyl ottoman for a series of photographs, usually in a slide format. Like the marks on the wall that told how tall each of us was growing, Dad’s photos were the measuring stick of our lives. A couple times a year he’d pull out boxes of slides and hang the glass encrusted screen in the living room while mom popped corn. Then we’d all gather around and watch picture after picture after picture of the people and places that defined our family. Mom with a red hibiscus behind her ear. Jo marching in the poise parade. Me dressed as a reindeer for a nursery school production. Five girls in red velvet beside a Christmas tree. The slides also showed a progression of the family pets. Rusty, the brown-eyed Cocker Spaniel, Lady the German Shepherd and Cherokee the Beagle. We remembered where we lived by the dog in the photo. 

Dad passed his love of photography down through three generations. “Say whiskey” is as much a part of our family vocabulary as grace before dinner.  My favorite bit of home decor is the painted family tree on the wall in the dinning room, adorned with photographs. 

Therefore it’s no surprise that when it comes to photographs of Maizey there are hundreds. Maizey at the beach, in the truck, in the pool. Sleeping Maizey. Playing Maizey.  Maizey with John, with Ella, with Ashley, with Buddy.  John’s computer is full of pictures of his soul mutt. Yet he decided he wants something more like a portrait, something that captures the very essence of Maizey. Before Maizey got sick I wouldn’t have thought this was necessary. A nice Shutterfly book would suffice.  Who, besides the Queen of England, needs a portrait hanging over the fireplace while she’s still alive?

I also thought she’d be around for a much longer time. I decided a framed picture of Maizey might be nice. So I went on a search for a pet photographer and decided on Chelsea Whiteman. I liked Chelsea’s work, but mostly I went with my gut. Something told me she was the right one.  We set up an appointment to meet at Hannah Park, Maizey’s favorite beach. The only problem proved to be the dark and gloomy nor’ eastern blowing in ahead of Hurricane Irma. We re-scheduled three times. Finally John and Chelsea decided they’d “make it work," and off we went.  Queen Maizey sat in the front seat of the truck wearing a red bandana. This would either be a lot of fun or a big fiasco. 

When we got to the beach, gray clouds hovered overhead. A light mist fell. Maizey didn’t care. While John and I and Chelsea and her assistant/fiancee Dylan introduced ourselves and talked about where to start, Maizey followed her standard beach procedure, three poops one right after the other as soon as her paws hit the sand. Then, as if hearing the siren song of the sea, she raced towards the ocean. John, did his very best to keep a hold on the leash as she pulled him behind her. I should have whipped out my phone and taken a video. I’m just not fast enough. Good thing Chelsea is.  With Dylan holding an umbrella in an attempt to keep the camera lens dry, Chelsea got right to work. Maizey is no Sports Illustrated model. She presented a few challenges. One, she doesn’t like cameras. Two, she’d really rather go where she wants to go, not where she’s told to go. And three, Maizey is easily distracted.  

Two weeks later, we got a peek at the photos. Yes, there are some shots of a bullheaded Bulldog being uncooperative. But there are also some fantastic pictures of Maizey being Maizey and the relationship she has with John.

If you are in Jacksonville, and looking for a photographer, I highly recommend Chelsea. Her specialty is capturing those moments you want to always remember. More than that she’s dog lover. She understood from the get go what Maizey means to John. She knew we wanted to get pictures of Maizey while she was still active, not sick. Dark clouds be damned. She came to the shoot with a vision. 

A graduate of the University of North Florida, Chelsea started taking pictures with a point and shoot camera as a kid. She enjoyed capturing the beauty of the surroundings while on family vacations. As her skills improved she began “dabbling in self-portraiture” where she learned a lot about lighting and editing. It wasn’t long before enlisted her fiancee, brother, father and his dog, Moose, as “subjects.”  Chelsea never turned down an opportunity to take pictures. She tried it all, engagements, weddings, pets, head shots, real estate photos. “With the exception of sports photography I enjoyed all of it,” she said. 

Chelsea realized that pet photography was something she wanted to pursue after spending time with a couple and their three dogs - a chihuahua and two golden labs. One of the labs, four month old Sophia, had been diagnosed with kidney disease and not expected to live very long. Wanting to capture Sophia’s sweet spirit running and playing at the beach, became as important to Chelsea as Sophia’s owners.

"Posed sessions with props have their place,” says Chelsea. "But there’s something so genuine about lifestyle sessions that let people and animals just “be” themselves."

Chelsea admits the hardest part of photographing pets is ending the session. “I have so much fun during pet photography sessions that I have a hard time stopping, putting down the camera, and saying goodbye to the wonderful pets I get to work with.”  

Sometimes people come into your life at just the right moment and offer you the gift of their presence. Sure we’ve got more pictures of Maizey that we know what to do with. But the time spent with this young, energetic, lover of dogs and babies, was more than just a photo shoot. For me it was a chance to see Maizey playing in the surf like she's healthy and full of life, not cancer. The pictures also tell the love story of a man and his dog. Thanks Chelsea, you gave us a gift that can never be replaced.