Magical clouds

K ran free once again! I took the plunge and unclipped her leash during yesterday evening's hike. Despite her freedom, she mostly chose to walk by my side - I think that she's still tired. But, I caught the duo out in front together among the green and yellow aspen!We all gazed at the sunset. The sun falls toward the western mountain tops faster each day, throwing our forest into the shadows earlier.In the evening, the crazy boys in our family played raucously. K has been stand-offish about playing so my husband stepped into the void for the forever puppyish R.This morning, K stared longingly out the door - until she spotted movement in the woods. Then, the fur on her shoulders stood straight up as she barked with a deep voice. I never cease to be amazed by how ferocious sweet K can sound.Before I went on my ride, K and I did a short loop in the forest. She still lacked her normal verve. In fact, even her body language looked unusual with her head lowered as she trotted toward me. I'm working on being patient, as I mentioned in an earlier post. But, usually, she speeds past all the vet's predictions for how long it will take to recover from illness. Not this time.
We've added some protein to her diet, a tiny bit for starters. We're also walking her a little bit further, all on the schedule given to us by our vet for recovery from pancreatitis. Now, we'll try to settle in at this new level, which in the context of her normal life is truly sedentary. I miss having her with me on adventures but I'm optimistic that we'll have more wild journeys once she feels better.

Several of you have sent me links to information about canine pancreatitis (and I'm incredibly grateful!). I've been also reading about the relationship between pancreatitis and hypothyroidism because a vet school specialist has informed us that the two diseases are probably linked in K. I hope to create a list of resources for others to use once I've sorted through all the information.

K turns 6 years old in a week and a half. Our tradition is to embark on a mountain adventure for her birthday. Last year, during her birthday adventure, we came around a curve in a trail and a moose, with gigantic antlers, stood immobile in front of us. He turned and ran directly into a dense forest. Despite the 3-4' width of his antlers, he gracefully and silently disappeared into the stand of pine trees. That encounter made last year's birthday adventure memorable! My fingers are crossed that K will be strong enough to have a birthday adventure this year.

Today, I went for a longish mountain bike ride, all by myself. I have to admit that I felt lonely with no canine company. As a cure for the blues, I wanted to ride hard but my legs and neck protested. My cervical spine instability causes all sorts of odd symptoms, from ringing in my ears to aching legs. Today it was aching legs.

So, I just enjoyed the show that the clouds and mountains provided. As I started out, a novice eye would have seen serene mountains but a mountain dweller knows that the clouds clinging to the peaks in the early morning were a warning.
After a steep climb, I emerged from the forest on an exposed ridge. I saw that the clouds over the mountains had billowed upward, forming a thicker blanket over the Continental Divide.
A glance to the south stopped me in my tracks. The storms yesterday transformed a faraway towering mountain, over 14,000' tall, from a dark rocky sentinel to a white harbinger of winter. I could barely distinguish the snow coated mountain from the puffy white clouds enshrouding it. It looked like a mirage on the horizon.
As I rode toward the east, I looked over my shoulder to see that angry gray storm clouds now topped the upward pluming white ones.I dropped down 1000' and then started climbing again, on a carefully maintained open space trail. I was dismayed to see that the 'officials' are widening it and actually blasting apart boulders to make the trail smooth enough for a sedan. That terrain makes for some boring mountain biking. But, I'll always love the view from the top.
My legs never found their 'snap' today but I enjoyed a mellow journey in the woods. When I arrived home, K even managed to keep her eyes open for a brief period, before lapsing into unladylike snoring, as she and R lay on the deck. What a wonderful pair!

Dog day and forest wandering

Our K seems settled today. Either her new medicine helped or she's naturally improving. We did an on-leash walk in the morning, an exceedingly rare event prior to her illness because our dogs usually hike with us off-leash on our deserted trails. I'm using K's illness as an opportunity to train K and R to walk well together while leashed. If they could master that skill, then R would join us on our high alpine hikes.
We've been working on the dancing duet of leash walking for a while. The problem is that when I drive them to a trailhead for a high alpine hike, they're stoked with high amperage energy but the rules say that they must be leashed. As I try to walk them, R barks and play attacks K. K runs behind me to escape him, and I become the proverbial ball of twine. They reserve these antics for high traffic trails where they can make everyone laugh at me! Today, on our 'home' trails, they behaved politely.

Because my husband couldn't run with R today, the jet black streak joined me for a mountain bike ride. We rode up to my favorite nearby peak and discovered a bright and clear day compared to yesterday's gloom. The mountains shined under a few cloud wisps.
But, the flatland city still languished under a layer of clouds. The city usually glares at me from where the clouds sat today. I don't love cities, as you can tell.
On the crystal rock peak, R looked distinguished.
But, a little later, he tilted his head, looking like the soft-hearted youngster that he is.
I've complained in the past that R hadn't learned to respect my bike and give me space on thread-like sinuous trails. That problem has vanished. He learned that my bike can be unpredictable and scary on the day before K fell ill. Both dogs joined me on that ride, and I had one of my most dramatic crashes ever. It felt like a giant hand reached down from the sky and launched me into the air down a steep slope. After landing, I immediately knew that I wasn't badly hurt but I was pinned under my bike in the midst of downed branches. It took quite a while, but I extricated myself, left my bike in its resting place, and stood up on the trail to take this photo. My bike was a good 10 yards downhill of the trail! After seeing that out-of-the-blue bike crash, R has been keeping his distance from my bike.I felt very lucky to walk away from that crash. I broke a couple of ribs in an almost identical crash just about a year ago on the same trail.

Today, R and I enjoyed a relatively unexciting ride that included no crashes or bear sightings. When he'd burned off his brimming energy, I dropped him off at home and decided that I'd explore an uncharted area solo.

Thank goodness that I explored solo because I almost immediately ran into a guy with a rifle acting very suspicious (can you say "poaching"?) and an archer. I thought that the archer was going to shoot me for noisily rolling through the forest and ruining his silent stalking.

After scaring off the rifle-bearing poacher by yelling "human over here!" to avoid being shot, I found the remnants of a trail that climbed toward some rocky peaks. Short sections were rideable but huge fallen trees blocked the trail at regular intervals.

Next to the trail, I found a skull, perhaps of an elk who died in the past year or so, shown below with the upper palate facing the sky. To figure out what whose skull it was, I looked its size and shape but also paid close attention to teeth. This skull had 3 upper molars, 3 upper premolars, and the canines/incisors were broken off. Among Colorado mammals, only deer and elk have this dentition pattern, and the skull size seemed to say elk.
After mulling over the skull, pondering how this animal might have died and what her life might have been like, I kept climbing. I knew that the trail probably had an interesting destination, because in the midst of this desolate forest, I found a small home-made sign. I rubbed out part of the writing (in iPhoto) in case any curious locals are reading this - I'd be strung up by our industrious trailbuilder if anyone else found this trail based on my blog.
I followed the trail, which came out exactly where I hoped, and enjoyed the sunlight blazing on the yellow aspens.
Then, I tried to find a very faint connection to another trail that I like, but that I usually access via roads. Like the other day, I followed widely spaced cairns with virtually no worn trail between them.I sneaked rare glimpses of the high mountains with ominous clouds looming over them.I finally turned home when it started to rain. But, using my new GPS unit, I uploaded today's track to my computer. Believe it or not, I was only a quarter mile from my goal destination at my turnaround point. This route most definitely will exist soon! I love my GPS - I would've never known how close I was to my goal without it.

I arrived home to see my human and canine family enjoying the last few minutes on the deck before a dramatic hail and thunder storm erupted. K slept peacefully - exactly what she needs to do in order to speed her healing and get back out on the trails with me! I'm going to try a longer walk with her this afternoon plus I'm going to add a little protein to her food. We'll see how she does but I'm feeling optimistic.
Based on how deeply K has slept during recent days, pancreatitis is one tough disease to fight!

A murky day

Somehow, I've slept so soundly for the past few nights that, according to my husband, I didn't even jolt awake when the dogs exploded into barking at the local coyote pack's howling concert. But, last night, the sound of K licking her lips and standing up snapped me out of a deep sleep. It happened twice, followed by gagging both times. Uh oh, I thought - that's what you get for being so happy yesterday.

I talked with my vet this morning who prescribed new meds for acid reflux and nausea (for K, not me!). Both of these problems tend to accompany pancreatitis. She was only mildly alarmed - but asked that we watch K closely today for a potential relapse. She also gave me a concrete list of signs that it's time to take K to the emergency vet. I like having such clear-cut directions. I also feel great that we now have an emergency vet who I truly trust.

So far, K seems mellow and comfortable today. She's ravenous and hasn't been sick again. She stares longingly out the windows, probably wondering why she isn't going on any adventurous bike rides or hikes these days. Oh how I wish that I could explain it to her.
I'm sure that it was excruciating for K when I took our young black lab, R, for a bike ride today. Our usual routine is that my husband takes R running and I take K mountain biking. But, our schedule was a mess so I rode with R. I froze some oatmeal in a kong to distract K while R and I departed but I'm not sure that it worked.

R was a magnificent companion on the trails. What zest that rambunctious youngster possesses! R showed me that his training is progressing fantastically. We saw two deer who ran a few steps away, stopped, pronked high in the air a couple of times, stopped... and continued to tempt poor R for about 100 yards. At first, R stood mesmerized by them, not chasing, but also not hearing me call him. Then, he snapped out of it and zipped over to me, skidding into a sit to receive his treats. My heart soared - he's truly become a responsible off-leash dog. That's why we've taken him to training classes since he was an itsy bitsy puppy - and it's working!

This photo shows how intensely he sprints to us when called.
Clouds rendered the trails ghost-like today and rain occasionally splattered us. The autumn aspens glowed in the darkened forest as R galloped ahead of me.From a high point, the Divide hid behind clouds but the forested low mountains to the east looked spooky.
I dropped R off at home after a short ride together and rolled out on my own. I saw a lot of locals out on the trails, rejoicing that we have them to ourselves again! A pair of hikers warned me that there'd been two credible mountain lion sightings a few days ago on the ridge that I was climbing. But, I decided to ride the ridge anyway. My reasoning was that I rode through that locale unscathed two days ago which was after the sightings. As I rolled along the spine of the ridge, I scanned for animals, scat, and tracks. I saw no lion signs but lots of other animals had been wandering along that ridge!

It was worth climbing the ridge because the view of cloudy eastern hills awed me. Usually, I gaze at the high rocky mountains to our west - my favorites. But, they were invisible, shuttered by clouds. The forested smaller mountains (9,000' or so) to the southeast looked surreal.
The floating clouds accentuated the layers of peaks, starting with nearby rounded mountains and ending with the cliffs that plummet to the plains. Beyond that, the world is almost perfectly flat, all the way to Kansas.
As I rode, I mulled over K's health situation. I realized how much I wanted K's health to be an open and shut case, not a murky morass like the forest was today. I want the vet to be able to tell me exactly what will happen and when, and then, in a short time, I want the drama to be finished. However, from kind emails, my research, and my vet's words, I'm learning that pancreatitis, especially when complicated by seemingly out-of-control hypothyroidism, is hard to control or predict.

I need to learn to roll with the punches and not sweat every setback. Unfortunately, that laid-back attitude doesn't suit my personality when it comes to my dogs' health. It's especially difficult to adopt that attitude because because our dog, S, died so recently. Presently, I see death around every corner, leading me to react strongly to signs of health problems.

Perhaps I'll learn a whole new lesson from K as we navigate this illness. My incredible dog trainer, Gigi Moss, likes to say that each dog enters our lives for a reason - for some new nugget of wisdom that they'll give us. K has already taught me about how to be patient and not pushy when she goes through a fearful phase - and through that lesson, I've also learned to be kinder to myself when I'm afraid of something. Perhaps I'll now learn how to be patient in the face of illness. It's a long shot but maybe...

Giddy and exploring

I woke up just plain happy today. I keep bursting into child-like giggling over things that really aren't as hysterical as my laughing would suggest. I think that I'm silly with happiness that K is mending and the lost dogs from yesterday are truly home.

K still slept almost all day but the vet forewarned me that sleepiness dominate her days for a week or so.
But, we took a few short leash walks on the tiny loop that we eschew except when one of our dogs can't exercise much. K seemed mystified by her new limitations. She urged me to unclip her leash and let her run. Then, when I turned onto the trail that leads home, she dug in her heels and needed convincing to take the turn. I think that I'll start walking her a little further tomorrow.
We stopped for a photo near some yellow aspens.
A big issue is what K is going to eat over the long-term. She has food allergies and now this chronic smoldering pancreatitis. I called the one and only canine nutritionist who consults with individual pet owners in Boston today but she's out of town for 10 days. We need to figure out something in the interim because K will be allowed to eat more than overcooked oatmeal (the only allowable food right now) in a few days. I'm working on it!

After walking K this morning, I didn't feel right about going for a mountain bike ride without K. I procrastinated, doing mindless chores, before finally kicking myself out the door. Despite my reluctance to start, I had a fantastic ride. My back finally felt better. It's been hurting a lot, after days of sitting and lying in vet cages with K, or sitting in uncomfortable vet clinic waiting room chairs. During today's ride, I actually felt a stubborn spasm twitch a few times and then let go - a very tangible sign of the healing power of cycling.

Everything looked new and beautiful to me so I took lots of photos. When I looked at them later, I wondered why I'd taken some of them. Rose colored glasses, I think.

But, the mountains are always beautiful.
Near the end of my ride, I explored up near some peaks that have intrigued me for years. Sunlight filtered through the forest and spotlighted brilliant yellow flowers still blooming despite the onset of autumn.
I was exploring an area that's traveled very little by humans. But, numerous signs like scat and tracks leave a record making it undeniable that a myriad of animals roam among the rocky peaks, including bear, deer, elk, lions, bobcats, and coyotes. It's odd but I find that in relatively untrampled areas, I rarely see the animals. But, I bet that they see me!

Without the trained eye of someone who knows how to suss out 'secret' trails, the wild area appears to be devoid of trails. But, I found a couple of trails last March when light snow covered the ground. Snow accumulates more on traveled paths than other places so I often search for new trails in the snow. Trails up here in the mountains often look like tiny animal paths, not like the wide and obvious trails closer to town.
In March, I found a promising trail, obviously planned and built by an industrious forest traveler. It started as a tiny thread of an animal trail. However, after a mile or so of being a vague path, huge cairns began appearing.Last March, I reached the biggest cairn of them all, and the trail evaporated. I laid down my bike and started walking in expanding circles around the last cairn, trying to find the continuation of the trail. Dense trees blocked my view further than 5 yards around me. In my post, I was too embarrassed to admit that I actually lost my bike while I searched for the trail. I panicked, thinking that I was in big trouble, but eventually I stumbled upon my bike and the almost invisible trail. I turned around feeling discouraged.

It turns out that, within the past few months, a sneaky blog reader and trailbuilder went to that spot on the trail and left a sign for me.
A closer look showed that the sign said "Walk'n part". In other words, he was telling me that the trail continues but it can't be ridden for the next little bit. However, he was leaving the thrill of exploring and discovering the route for me. He left no information about which way I was supposed to walk.
I had to sit down on the rocks because this sign tickled my funny bone and left me laughing out loud. I bet that only two people have visited this spot in the past 6 months, me and the trailbuilder/blog-reader.

This time, I was even more determined to figure out where the trail went since the sign confirmed that it didn't truly evaporate. I dragged my bike with me (no losing it this time!) while I circled, searching for anything that looked like the mark of a human. Then, after fighting my way through thick underbrush that drew blood on my shins, I spotted a saucer-like rock balanced atop a small boulder. That started me in the right direction.
Following cairns, I found a vista, before being forced to turn around due to time constraints.I'll be visiting that trail soon again. It looks promising- like it might provide a trail link that I've searched for over many years. Recently, I purchased a modern GPS unit that will display topo maps with my path superimposed on them while I ride (once I figure out how to use it). I think that I'm going to finally find out where this trail goes! As you can tell, I love exploring.

For those of you who aren't mountain bikers, we tend to go to incredible lengths to avoid the roads. We search the wild backcountry for tiny and rough paths that might eventually let us avoid using roads at all. It's a funny mentality, almost like a mountain lion trying to stay hidden in the forest. But, this mentality ends up possessing all five of the hard-core mountain bikers in my neighborhood. In other words, I'm not as odd as you might think based on this post!

Fabulous dog day!

I woke up this morning and shared a good long snuggle with our lovable K. I bet that non-dog people can't imagine this - but I absolutely love how K smells. Probably her sweet scent comes from the pine tar in her fur after many rolls under pine trees. But, I hugged her and sniffed her. I reveled in every little nuance that makes her our sweet K. I also relaxed into the knowledge that she seems to be getting better. She's eating with gusto and trying to convince me to let her run off-leash using cute play bows and other puppy-like antics. What a relief.

Through research, I'm learning about why my vets were so alarmed by her pancreatitis. It kills dogs, and there's strong evidence that it's a chronic condition in K that was exacerbated by eating a few mildly toxic mushrooms. Moreover, dogs with thyroid disorders like K's hard-to-control hypothyroidism have a much rockier road with pancreatitis than normal dogs. That information explains why my vet is taking K's pancreatitis extremely seriously even though some dogs can sail through it with few complications.

In K's case, the episode has left her exhausted. She slept more today than ever before. The most interesting photo of her was of her sleeping. You can see her ribs. She hasn't eaten much in days and won't be able to eat normal quantities for another few days.
This morning, with K by my side, I looked forward to a nice ordinary day with no frantic drives to vet clinics or anxious hours waiting for news from vets. My great hope was simply a normal day.

A good indicator of how frazzled we've been is that the only other shoe-wearing member of our family (no names!) went to work wearing non-matching shoes yesterday. And, I got a photo! Hopefully, he won't read this post...
The hope of an ordinary day disappeared during breakfast. My husband and R headed out for a run while I drank coffee on the deck. A very short time later, I heard them returning. I peered over the deck, and I saw a German Short Haired Pointer with them. He'd been curled up into a tight ball hidden under the low boughs of a pine tree in the National Forest behind our house. Our dog, R, found him, circled, nudged my husband, and then stood stock still and pointed at the dog. Yes, I know that Labs are not supposed to point - but pointing at a Pointer seems appropriate to me! Only then did my husband see the exhausted and sore canine. His tags said "Kelso" and listed an address in Denver.
My husband walked Kelso home and phoned the number on the tag. The owner reacted with utter disbelief and elation. He said that Kelso had been missing since Monday, and their hope of finding him had begun to dwindle. But, he asked, "Did you find Molly with Kelso?". He explained that Molly was their other GSP and had been with Kelso when they disappeared. My husband's heart sank. Suddenly, the elation was gone. He hadn't seen Molly.

The family headed straight up to our house but, while they drove, I headed out on my bike with R as my search dog. We circled and recircled the area where Kelso had hidden, calling Molly's name. R's body language screamed that he smelled something of interest in that area (I used to be trained in canine search and rescue so I'm very attuned to a dog's small body language clues). However, I couldn't see Molly, and she didn't answer my calls.
When the family arrived, I led them to where Kelso had been hidden. They called Molly's name a million times while we all tried to use xray vision to pick out a hidden brown and white dog from the forest. Finally, we were on the verge of returning home when a passing jogger mentioned hearing some yipping from a nearby dark gulch. So, as our last try, we hiked down the gulch. My heart accelerated with fear of what we'd find. A couple of years ago, we found the remains of a neighborhood dog killed by a lion in the very same gulch.

As the hiking got rougher and steeper, I suggested that we should turn around. Just as we started to turn, I saw a light-colored animal streak across the trail in front of us. Based on my glimpse, it could have been a coyote or even a lion but it also could have been a dog. We all ran ahead to see around a rocky outcropping, and erupted in excitement when we saw Molly. However, after days on the run, Molly was skittish and looked ready to flee. So everyone but Molly's mom hid behind a boulder while she gently cajoled Molly to come to her. When Molly finally arrived in her arms, everyone cried, even me. What a wonderful feeling!
Kelso and Molly went straight to the vet who pronounced them hungry and tired but not hurt or sick. That's amazing given the night-time low temperatures in the 30s and the overnight rains that we've had. So, those two adventurers are at home with their family soaking up a ton of love.

I felt today that I repaid a debt. Earlier this week, I feared for K's life. But, thanks to the dedication of vets and techs, she's mending at home. It felt like perfect symmetry that I helped another person save their dogs today!

What a glorious day!

K is home!

First and foremost, thank you so much for warming my heart with your messages of support while I was worried sick about K. What a morale booster!

K is home! Finally, this afternoon, our wonderful vet released her to me. K is pumped full of fluids and seems more exhausted than I've ever seen her.

I visited her at the vet hospital this morning and walked her outside a little bit. Her agitation level was off the charts - she whined, pulled, fidgeted, and was constantly distracted. Apparently, she's an 'opiate-sensitive' dog who becomes jittery when she takes pain medication. She couldn't focus on me for more than an instant this morning but I did get her to sit still for a photo.
Finally, about 16 hours after her last opiate dose, she settled down enough to come home.
She and R greeted each other with tails wagging wildly on the deck.But, within seconds, K had curled up in her favorite spot, on the deck next to me. She snored audibly.
It made me slightly concerned that our vet waffled about whether to take her IV catheter out. Apparently, pancreatitis dogs often need to return to the vet for more IV fluids within a day or so of release. However, in the end, the vet pulled the catheter. I'll take that as a vote of confidence.

Now, my job is to consult a canine nutritionist to figure out how to feed K a pancreas-friendly diet despite her food allergies. For the rest of her life, K will have strict rules about what she's allowed to eat.

One aspect of this ordeal that I didn't mention previously was our emergency vet fiasco. We initially went to the same emergency vet that we've visited for years. However, almost immediately, we started feeling uncomfortable with the atmosphere. Moreover, we didn't click with the on-duty vet and felt that she was not being inquisitive enough about oddities in K's blood work. As a final straw, K seemed afraid of the vet - a reaction that I've never seen in K in any past vet visits. However, K's condition was bad enough that we agreed to have her hospitalized.

After leaving, I sat in my car and struggled with a terrible gut feeling that leaving K in that particular hospital was not good and perhaps not even safe. And, I remembered hearing that a new emergency vet hospital (Alpenglow) had opened. After searching for it based on a vague recollection of the address, I stumbled in, still possessed by a feeling of impending doom, and asked for a tour of the facility. Then, I noticed the names of the vets. One of them had saved S's life a few years ago, and I knew what an awesome vet and person he was.

The best course of action was obvious. I went straight back to the first place, had K discharged with her IV intact (one of the most socially uncomfortable things that I've ever done especially since they wanted a full accounting of why I was doing it), and drove her to the new place. It turned out to be the best decision that I could've made - the vets, the techs, and the facilities at Alpenglow are absolutely top notch. I felt a serene confidence when I left K in their obviously capable hands. For K's sake, I'm glad that I found the guts to 'make waves' by yanking her out of the first hospital. It's a lesson that I'll remember - making waves and hurting people's feelings is sometimes necessary to take care of someone you love.

K and I won't be having any adventures aside from short walks for a little while. But, we can enjoy the blaze yellow aspens nearby our house on our short rambles.
And, R might even join me for a bike ride or two like he did this morning. Although I was sad that K wasn't with us, I enjoyed getting to know our little guy even better by sharing a ride with him alone.

Update on K

My world is out of kilter without K being home with our family.
The good news is that K is improving and her situation is starting to become clearer. I visited her at the hospital this afternoon, and she's more alert and perky than yesterday. She's starting to eat and drink tiny bits now and then. However, she's still in a lot of pain. As I talked with her vet, I absent-mindedly gently stroked K's belly, and she yelped. Now, that's a sore abdomen.

K is still in the hospital because she needs to get fluids IV until her body can handle eating and drinking more. She'll probably come home tomorrow, assuming her improvement continues.

Actually, when I step back from the scary part of this situation, I realize that my vet appointment was a bit humorous in one way. I spent the afternoon in K's cage keeping her company at the hospital, and the vet came by to have our appointment while I was in the cage. I consulted with the vet through the cage bars while the vet sat on the floor outside the cage. Then, the vet, operating on auto-pilot, latched the cage from the outside before walking away. I had a good laugh, for the first time in a day, when I had to call for a tech to let me out later!

Figuring out exactly why K feels so terrible hasn't been easy. The mushrooms that she ate and then vomited probably set off a cascade of events that were much worse due to an underlying case of pancreatitis. Without the pancreas problem, she might have sailed through the mushroom ingestion fairly easily.

Usually, the pancreas manufactures and releases digestive enzymes into the digestive tract. In pancreatitis, these enzymes leak into the gut and start damaging other organs, causing intense pain. I've noticed over the past 2 weeks that K seemed to have a tender abdomen and now I know why. I'm still learning about pancreatitis but, so far, my understanding is that it can't usually be cured but it can be managed via diet.

K will have to take it very easy after coming home. As one vet put it, that's not 'Boulder easy' where a 10 mile run is considered to be short but rather truly easy where a slow walk is a big event. But, we're all hopeful that K will be back to our high-energy lifestyle before too long. My fingers are crossed.

In any case, when I briefly thought that K's life might be in danger yesterday, I didn't have regrets about the life that we've given her. K has lived incredible years here in Colorado, frolicking in our mountains. I want her to live a long life but I do know that she's already lived a life full of adventure and love.I can't thank you all enough for your nice emails, comments, and good thoughts!

Good thoughts for K

My friend, SMRP, posted yesterday about K being in the hospital. She's still there, and from what I heard from the doc this morning, she's not a lot better. Yesterday morning, she suddenly became lethargic, acted like she was in pain, and refused to eat. Then, she threw up a few mushrooms. But, her bloodwork is very confusing - it's certainly not indicating classic mushroom poisoning (yet - but it can change over time as the toxins do their work).

Due to K's strange assortment of symptoms, the vets are worried about an underlying unrelated problem that's exacerbating a mild case of mushroom poisoning and that might be causing the mystifying blood problem that cannot be caused by mushrooms, a low hematocrit (i.e., low red blood cell count).

They said the terrifying word 'hemangiosarcoma' yesterday. I had an anxiety-soaked hour while they looked for it but xrays and ultrasound didn't show the telltale signs. The images also didn't show any signs of internal bleeding, another worry. So, that's all good news.

Whatever is going on, she's staying the hospital, I was just told.

I think that those of you who follow this blog know that K is unbelievably close to me. I feel like she's part of the fabric of my heart and soul. Please send good thoughts her way.