For One More Day

Roo - no caption necessary

It's Sunday, one week since the legend that is Roo, went down. One week since a growing number of very different individuals, from every corner of the globe, 'gathered' around his bed to light his passing. He was just a month past his sixteenth birthday. A birthday it had sometimes seemed, he wouldn't make. A birthday which was celebrated across the world, from the Americas to the UK, and from Europe to the Southern Hemisphere. A day which none of us who were 'present', will ever forget.

Birthday cake a la Nan - 06.05.2014

For two days we sat, in shifts determined by our individual time zones, by his bedside. We watched, and we waited for news. Nan Kilgore Little, Roo's two legged lifelong companion, re-named her Morning Roo Report, Roo Watch. No-one commented on this, words were unnecessary. It was his time. All we could do, we known as the gRoopies, was to send prayers and love to our hero, and strength to Nan. This vigil was quite possibly unique. I cannot imagine, even in the social media age, that there have been too many stories like this one. In my view, it's about the unique pairing of Nan, a special person in her own right, and Roo, the boy she raised, and has loved every day of his life.

And then, something happened, something that had always been just out of sight, slowly came into focus. There's this dog, we knew him before as Barkool the clown, the dog who was never upright, the one who made us laugh. Imperceptibly, he became Barkool the strength giver, Barkool the protector. He became Sam Gamgee to Roo's Frodo. Always there, shouldering Roo, guarding him, pulling him into the light. I imagine him, in my mind's eye, barring the way across the Rainbow Bridge, gently telling Roo, in those first two days, "Not yet buddy, it's not your time." Call me a dreamer if you will, but I believe that after the events of this extraordinary week, anything is possible.

Roo and Barkool - He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother... (click link)

However and whyever it happened, Roo rallied. On the third day he ate little, on the fourth he took a somewhat wobbly stroll around the yard. Always by his side, the stalwart Barkool. The week progressed, and so did Roo. Shaking her head in disbelief, Nan was forced to abandon Roo Watch and return to the Morning Roo Report. We, the gRoopies, rejoiced. Yes, he is old, yes his body is weak, but his spirit is indomitable. His will to live is oh so strong, his joy in his family and at his life, is obvious. He has Barkool by his side now, emboldening his weak body and fortifying the strength of his spirit. How long he can go on, this boy who lives beyond reason, no-one knows. Roo will decide when it's time to go, when it's time to leave Nan, his family, Barkool and us, behind, and travel, just like Frodo, to the Undying Lands. Until then, Roo, we will treasure every moment with you. We will be forever grateful for the chance to share your journey, grateful too, for one more day.

This has been a week like no other. A week in which I have cried tears of sadness and of joy, and laughed in amazement and with sheer delight. A week when it was proven to me once again, that dogs do indeed have souls, and that there is hope for us humans, after all.

Great Expectations

It happens every day. Constantly. You log in to Facebook and what are you bombarded with? If your newsfeed is anything like mine, you'll find yourself looking at a lot of dogs. A lot of dogs in two extreme categories.
In the first category, are the dogs in dire straits. Abandoned. Abused. In killing stations. All of them desperate. All of them in need of a home. All of them, via the clever and equally desperate person writing the post, appealing directly to YOU to save them. Oh, and how you want to. How you wish you could.

Skye - a young podenco on the kill list in Badajoz last year

The second category, should you be a member of an adopted dog group (yes, I number my own group, The Pod Squad - Podenco Jedi Knights, among them), is made up of dogs in seventh heaven. Dogs reclining on sofas and sleeping in beds, dogs running through leafy forests or across green meadows, dogs curled up on owners laps or spooning with their canine 'siblings'. Dogs and humans showing you just how wonderful it is to adopt a desperate dog in need.

My Spanish Family 

And it is wonderful. No doubt about it, adopting a rescue dog is absolutely one of the best things I've ever done.  On. The. Whole.

Every member (myself included) of every adopted dog group is guilty. We are guilty of loving our four legged adoptee(s) so much that we want to share our state of bliss with the whole goddamn world. We want to show everyone that we adopted this wonderful, loving, comical dog and the lives of all concerned have been magically transformed. We all do it. All of us.

What we rarely do, is show the other side. We don't talk much about the patience, time and effort it sometimes takes as these dogs adapt to their new homes. We often skirt around the times the dog is naughty or demanding. We omit to mention lack of sleep or the need to completely turn our lives and our comfortable routines upside down to accommodate our new family member. These things, to a greater or lesser degree, are true for all of us, if we are brave enough to admit it. Let me use my own situation as an example:
I post pictures of my dogs, all three are rescues from Spain. The landscape is breathtaking, the dogs are running free and enjoying nature or they're curled up all together, sleeping peacefully on my sofa. It's idyllic, and anyone contemplating adopting a dog could very well be forgiven for thinking, that not only is there nothing to this adopting a dog story, it also enhances your life and puts a smile on your face from morning 'til night every day of the week. But that's not the whole story, is it. What my pictures don't tell you is that Rico wakes me at 5:30 every single morning or that Leo, being a pup, can't be left for a second without the risk of him grabbing something to destroy. What you don't know, is that it takes a lot of time every day to walk them because I'm alone with three dogs with no-one to help me. I do this rain or shine, and whether I'm well or ill, busy or not. Leo's energy level is high, Rico has nightmares, Nala sometimes has off days and I worry her leishmaniasis is flaring up again. These are all the things that go on in the background and are a b s o l u t e l y  n o r m a l. Most of the time I don't miss a beat, but I'm human and occasionally, it does get to me. I love my dogs unconditionally. They are my family, it's that simple. But, that fact doesn't make it idyllic, because it isn't.

Leo - Part Angel, Part Devil. A Typical Puppy

What concerns me, is the message that romanticising life with an adopted dog (or any dog for that matter), sends to potential new owners. Adopting a dog is an exciting time, you can't wait to get your baby home with you. Whilst most dogs will be fine in most cases, others might need much more input, time and patience. Yes, many people will have seen it all and worse, and they'll just get on with it, but maybe others aren't prepared for a dog who's having trouble settling into his new environment, a dog who barks or tries to escape, a naughty and destructive pup, a nervous dog or one with high energy levels, a dog who hates the cat or the other dog in the house. What then? Best case scenario, you hang in there because you know that 90% of the time it will settle down. Worst case, the dog is bumped to a new home because the fit just isn't right, or simply sent back to the rescue.

In most cases this scenario is nobody's fault. The rescue did their job, the home check was done but sometimes, for no obvious reason, the transition isn't smooth. To new owners, I say - acknowledge the problem, look for help and know that we have ALL been through some nightmare or other. To those of you reading this, I say - let's take the rose coloured specs off and tell our adoption stories like they really are, the downs as well as the many ups. Maybe then new owners wouldn't feel inadequate because their new fur baby hasn't immediately been absorbed, as if by osmosis, into their family. Maybe then they'd be hoping for the best but be prepared for the worst. Maybe then, we could avoid such great expectations.

(P.S - Yesterday Rico pulled me off my feet as he took off up the road after next door's cat. Leo was angelic. Today Nala stole my breakfast and Leo is the devil incarnate. Signing off now to go and walk them all in the pouring rain. Tomorrow is another day.)

Life In The Refuge - A Long Termer's Story.

(Words by Anne O'Connor)

What must life be like for the long term residents in a refuge? For many, the long interminable days all rolling into one, with no prospect of a new life, gradually makes the eyes go dull and the soul despair. For these poor dogs, the misery of never knowing when their real lives will begin is the worst part of being nobody's dog..

This is the story of one of these dogs.

His name is PASSE

You will find him in the far corner of the compound, sitting quietly, waiting. 

Passe waits.

He has been waiting for almost all his life, in different places. The place before this one had been a place of great fear and pain for him. He remembers how it felt to be pinned down, his throat squeezed between the jaws of the angry dog. He would not have survived long had it not been for the lady who heard his struggles, took him to the vet to be healed and then brought him to this place. He is safe now, but he still waits, because his life, his real life, has still not begun. 

Passe watches.

He watches as more dogs come to this place. He watches as they learn to live here. He watches the ones who are so afraid that they shrink from attention, the ones frozen in fear, the ones who cannot cope with the noise and activity around them. He feels the need in them, he knows what it means to yearn for a soft, quiet place to call his own. He watches them grow and become new dogs, more confident, ready for their new lives. He watches as they leave this place forever with their new families. Finally, they are wanted, they are loved.

Passe remembers.

He remembers his first months here. Making friends. He remembers those who welcomed him, those who were kind, those who played with him. He remembers those he came to trust and care for. He remembers the confusion and emptiness inside as he saw each of them leave. Why does no one come for him?

How difficult it is to make friends now. He knows that soon they will be gone and he will be left  alone again.

Passe feels.

But he doesn't want to feel any more. He has felt enough. He has felt terror and relief, loss and pain but worst of all, he has felt hope. 

Passe hopes.

He recalls how, for a short time, his dreams did come true. He was the one chosen. He was to receive his great gift of life in a family. The lady who took him was a friend of his rescuer and ready to offer him a foster home while he waited for his adoptive family. He loved to sit next to her and be stroked, he loved to be loved and to have his own bed, at last. 

At last, someone wanted him and loved him. But, her cat who, being old and ill, could not accept him. Despite all best efforts, he could not stay. He had to return to this place and wait once more.

The hope inside him is starting to die and now, Passe despairs.

Passe knows.

He knows although his rescuer says that he looks very regal, he is not the most elegant, nor is he the cutest. He's not the youngest, nor is he the oldest. Somehow, he knows he does not have the appeal of his friends who have found their families. He knows he has such love in his heart to give. But, he knows too that, right now, no one wants him.

Passe fades.

The years are passing and still no one comes. The people here are kind. The lady who loved him enough to try, still comes to take him for walks. She tries to keep his spirit alive. She looks hard to find him the home he still dreams of. But his hope is dying. The life in his eyes is fading. In this place, there is nothing else for him to do. 

He waits, but he no longer knows what it is he is waiting for, a home or simply the end of all hope? 

And still, Passe waits.

Passe has been with Stacey in 4Paws Adoptions since the end of 2011. He is located in Fuengirola but he can travel.

Can you help Passe, who so wants and needs a place of his own? Could you offer a foster place or a forever home? He is a beautiful young podenco who has had a bad start in life. He is intelligent, loving and a real gentlemen. He is chipped, castrated and ready to go. He is tested negative for Med diseases.

Here is what Stacey has to say about Passe how she found him and how difficult it has been for him.: 

“I took him as I was entering the kennels 1 day from a walk could hear a scuffle and knew there was a dog in trouble somewhere. so as soon as I was through the door, dropped my leads and the dogs and followed to where the noise was coming from to find a boxer pinning down a podenco, the podenco was PASSE, managed to get the boxer off and carried PASSE into the hospital for the vet to come down, we cleaned him up he had 3 drains inserted in his neck stayed in the hospital for 9 days and then was released to me.

All seemed to be bumbling along though I was advertising him, other dogs came and went and always PASSE stayed, and time went on & I thought that was it he was going to be with me permanently and then realized that HE COULDNT STAY WITH ME, in a kennel for the rest of his life, although I am there everyday and usually about 6 hours, I only actually have approx. 25mins with each dog.

As I enter the kennels there is about 7 or 8 loose cats which I feed on my way in so they are there as I then come in and out and he doesn't bat an eye lid, But then there is not a lot he is interested in, he is a podenco and that breed normally are alert where as PASSE hardly lifts his head from the ground. 

HE is quite clever as he has learnt to open the door the ones where the handle presses down and then can pull it or push it open, he isn't interested in toys, throwing a stick or a ball, one day he can take a treat another day no, 1 day would take sausage another day no, 1 day will take cheese another no, etc etc, I have just found it so difficult to get through to him. Other than that he is a very regal looking dog (when he eventually lifts his head) and really doesn't seem to be perturbed by anything or anyone .”

Here is what Passe's short term foster carer said about him:

“The first night Passe stayed he pood in his bedroom (had his own double bedroom), it was not his fault as he has been in a kennel for over 2 years so does not know any difference and also cocked his leg on my curtain and sofa. Lovely!!I told him off, albeit gently and the next night, the darling did not poo until I had taken him out for a walk. He had obviously hung on like mad as he groaned with pleasure when he was eventually taken for a walk and able to do his business. Thus a very very intelligent dog. 

He can also open doors! He was confident with me and spent time lying on the sofa with his head in my lap and loved it when I stroked him. If my cat had not reacted that way, I would have not had any hesitation in fostering him until a permanent home was found. I took him out for walks and he needs two good walks a day. He had about 1 and half to 2 hours a day with me, which he relished. Hence as said in my write up, it is dreadful that a healthy dog who clearly needs exercise and stimulation, is still in a kennel after two years. NO LIFE AT ALL.

He is a very handsome dog and certainly got a lot of looks when I was walking him. He seemed fine with other dogs that I met and as said , did not chase my cats. HOWEVER, in just two days , I would not want to vouch for him re dogs and cats, as it was clearly early days. But the vet felt he had a very kind nature and that is the impression he gave me.

What was very evident to me, was that PASSE was very sad and gave the impression that he had given up. No permanent owner, no permanent place to his rest head, no constant love that only a permanent home can bring and no hope of running free across fields and hills and then coming home to good meal and a warm cuddle and soft words. HE DESERVES THAT. 

There is something quite special about him that is not entirely evident at first, but I got a good glimpse of that in just 2 days. “

Passe is one of those dogs who will be a very special gift to the the lucky person who takes him on. He is one of those dogs whose gentle and intelligent nature we grow to love, once given the chance. His life is wasted on waiting to show someone how wonderful their life could be with him. Let's not waste another second of it.

If you can offer Passe a home, be it a foster home or a a forever home please contact Stacey at 4Paws adoptions info@4pawsadoptions.com or if you'd like to talk to Jacqui, Passes's advocate, directly, you can email her : jacks.os@hotmail.co.uk or give her a call on: 0034 952884921.

Passe also has his own Facebook page - A Home For Passe (click). Head on over and keep him company. Hopefully, this page won't be needed much longer.

So Much More Than Just a Dog

Estrella

Yesterday. A chance conversation about the utter devastation which accompanies the death of a much loved dog. An unexpected jolt resulting from the memory of my beloved Marley's death in 2007. A sudden need to share my thoughts and feelings about how deeply these deaths affect us, with you, my loyal friends and pod blog readers. 

Today. Bev and Warren discovered that young Estrella, one of Alexa's pups, had died. No rhyme, no reason, no explanation for this little girl's passing. Just gone. Her little life snatched away before she had the chance to really begin to live. Today, Bev and Warren are understandably heartbroken. They have been mum and dad to these pups since they were five days old. However many other beautiful podenco souls they have in their care right now, they are human and that makes it's impossible to chalk this little girl's sudden passing up to experience and just get on with it. It just doesn't work like that.

This is something that every single one of us can identify with because every single one of us has been there. Every single one of us has felt that intense and crushing loss that losing a dog brings with it. And every single one of us has wondered why this pain is as acute as the pain we feel when a close relative or friend dies. No-one reading this will question for a single second that our dogs are more than just dogs but I have a theory about why we are so torn apart when we lose a four legged friend. Our dogs are dependent on us. They need us for food and water. They need us for shelter and warmth. They need us for companionship, exercise and stimulation. They need us for love. Our whole lives are taken up with the care and love of our four legged family members. We have routines we go through day in day out, every day the same. Every single morning when I take Nala for her first walk, she licks my face when I bend down to tie my shoes. Every single morning. That's roughly 2400 mornings up to now. Do you suppose that when Nala is no longer with me, that I won't automatically think of her when I put my shoes on in the mornings? Not a chance. Every one of our dogs is different, they have their own personalities and our relationship and habits with each of them differs slightly too. But they are all a part of who we are. To lose them is to have our lives changed, re-arranged, forever altered. They leave a hole in our hearts because of how great our love for them was. They leave a hole in our lives because the habits and routines we shared, are now also gone. Forever. 

Research has demonstrated the strength of the animal-human bond: In 1988, the Journal of Mental Health Counselling asked a group of dog owners to place a symbol for themselves on a sheet of paper, and then symbols for their family and pets around them. The distance between themselves and the other symbols corresponded to the relative, real-life closeness of those relationships. The dog owners tended to put the dog closer than the average family member, and about as close as the closest family member. For 38% of dog owners, the dog was closest of all.

Dogs don't judge, dogs don't betray, dogs don't argue, dogs are just always there, happy to see us, eager to please, always ready to give the same unconditional love. From the very first day. To the very last. No wonder then that we are on our knees when our dog dies. 

And our feeling toward each dog differs slightly. Nala has been with me through the darkest hours of my life and I know that when she's gone, or going, my feeling will be one of gratitude. I already thank her every day for being there. I will write 'thank you' on her headstone, whether that headstone is real or not. Most likely I will write about her. I'm a writer and that's what I will do to grieve. Write. When my beloved Marley died in 2007, my feeling was of remorse. He was old and was diagnosed with late stage cancer and as he died in my arms, I buried my face in his fur and sobbed "I'm sorry" over and over. Could I have done something to save him? My journey with Rico and Leo isn't yet far enough along for me to judge my exact relationship with them. I only know that I love them both unconditionally and for now that's good enough.

I often wonder how we dog owners do grieve effectively. Grieving for the loss of a person is fully accepted by society, even though we all grieve in our own way, but grieving for a dog is less well understood. Most likely, many of those around us will be sympathetic for a while and then tell us, whether directly or via implication, that we need to get over it. It's easy to feel as if we shouldn't be falling apart, as if we should pull ourselves together. Society as a whole just doesn't 'get' this kind of grief.

And so, we turn to our own. To those who do 'get' this kind of grief. To those who know exactly how we feel. To those who are like us. 

Bev, Warren, cry for Estrella. Cry for the life she will never have. But rejoice in the chance you gave her, in the life you gave her. Already Podenco Friends has two beautiful emblems, Blanca and the unforgettable, Angela. Now we have a third, baby Estrella. Unlike Blanca and Angela she knew only love, from Alexa who risked her life to save her babies, and from you. Now she is on the other side of the bridge telling all the podencos who have already gone before her that there are humans who love this wonderful and unique breed and who are fighting every single day to spread the word and to ensure that no podenco dies in vain.

To Estrella, and to all those who have passed, I say run free.

To Bev and Warren and others who loved their four legged children, I say don't be afraid to grieve. Grief is merely a measure of how much you loved.

God Bless you <3

This Time it's Personal

Friends, readers, pod-squaders, lend me your ears;

I come to you tonight with a very personal request, a request which, for a change, has nothing to do with podencos. Please don't stop reading!

Most of you know me as Alex, the podenco crazy blogging blond from Austria. Some of you know that writing is my passion, my lifeblood. Fewer of you know that I'm writing a book. A book which is the most important thing I've ever done. A book which is a part of me.

To succeed as a writer in this day and age, is a herculean task. It is a task which requires not only talent, hard work and luck, but also the proven ability to be able to market yourself and to persuade an agent or a publisher to take a chance on you. Writers and publishers come at the process from opposite ends of the spectrum. A writer wishes to create a thing of beauty, a work of art into which he has poured his heart and very soul. A publisher wishes only one thing, to make money from the books he sells and the authors he represents. Yes, he may be proud of representing an acclaimed author, but essentially he's running a business and his number one aim is to be profitable.

Competition among writers, is fierce. Scarily, extraordinarily fierce. J.K. Rowling was turned down by a string of publishers before Bloomsbury agreed to publish the Harry Potter series.

As a newcomer, my book must not only be well written, but a publisher must fall in love with the concept, the style and the book itself. If I can get that far, I have to be able to convince them that I am worth the risk.

A big part of this selling myself process, involves being able to demonstrate that I'm not a complete unknown. I must have what's called a 'platform' which shows that my name is recognised, even if not widely, and that there are already people who like to read me. This reduces their risk somewhat and helps me, tremendously.

And that, my friends and loyal readers, is where you come in. This is where you can help me. And your help is what I'm asking for tonight.

On the top right hand of this page you will see a box. Above the box it says 'Follow by Email'. By entering your email address here, you become a subscriber and you will be notified every time I post something new. It doesn't matter who your email account is with, gmail, hotmail, yahoo, btinternet etc, with any email address you can subscribe. If you happen to use gmail, you can also follow me in the About Me section, just a little lower down the page. For me, the number of blog subscribers and followers I have forms important part of my platform. It's an objective and independent measure of the number of readers I have.

Many of you will have read all or most of my blog posts and also my article 'The Podencos of Spain - Treasure Treated as Trash', which was published in the US magazine, The Canine Chronicle, at the beginning of January. These, I write purely and simply out of my love for these wonderful dogs and I receive no financial benefit from them whatsoever. Whatever happens, whether my book is successful or not, I'm proud to work alongside Beverley and Warren in their quest to promote and educate and I will continue to be a voice for the podencos of Spain.

My dream, however, is to find a publisher willing to take a chance on me and my book. I'm not writing it to be rich and I'm not writing it to be famous. I'm writing it for myself, for you and people like you and above all, because it's a story which has to be told.

Will you help me?

Thank you all so very much.

Alex xxx

The Prequel - Nala's Story

Podenco podenco, for you my heart beats. Anyone who knows me would have to be deaf, blind and dumb not to know that by now. There is, however, a huge part of my beating heart, which has absolutely nothing to do with podencos. Nothing whatsoever. Long before I even heard the word podenco, I shared my life, my hopes, my dreams, my laughter and my tears with a four legged princess. I love this girl more than I can even begin to tell you. Our family might have grown in the last year but she is still by my side. She is still my Princess Nala. She always will be. This is her story, sometimes in her words, sometimes in mine. We'd like to share it with you.

Nala's Story 2007

This is me, Nala

I was born in Spain around the beginning of 2006. Nobody knows exactly when, but I celebrate my birthday each year on January 10th (birthday tomorrow, I'm doing my little happy dance right now). There were 2 of us, me and my brother, Nayo. I don't remember much about my younger days, or maybe I've just blocked a lot of it out. Our owner was a hunter and we weren't treated at at well. I was used as a puppy machine, even though all my babies were always born dead, and Nayo was made to hunt wild boar. He often came home battered and bleeding. I don't know if it was the wild boar who injured him, or the hunter. Anyway, it seems that neither of us came up to scratch because one day the hunter put us both in his truck and a little while later, he stopped, grabbed us both and threw us out of the car in front of a building. I had no idea where we were but the place turned out to be a perrera, a killing station. If we didn't get out of here quickly, we would be killed.

This is the photo they took of me in the killing station

There were what seemed to be hundreds of other dogs there and we had to learn to fight for food and defend ourselves. I was ok but Nayo, broken in body and spirit by the hunter, retreated into himself and I had to take care of us both. I'm not a big dog but I can fight like a lion if I have to. Often, I did.

One day they took me from our cage and put me in the back of a van with several other dogs. Nayo wasn't one of them. I didn't know where we were going and I was a bit scared. It turned out to be a privately run dogs home, where the owner tried to rescue as many dogs as she could. I guess my big brown eyes and cute face led her to think she could find a home for me somewhere else. She was right. It wasn't long before I was back in the van, this time headed for the airport. Destination : Frankfurt, Germany.

A lady came to pick me up. She gave me some water, stroked me, talked to me and then took me home to her house. Apart from the lady, there was a man and their voices sounded different from what I'd heard up to now, but I liked them immediately. More than that, I sensed here were humans I could finally trust.

There were 2 other dogs in the family, several cats and 4 great big things who lived in the field next to the huge garden. I later found out they were horses. I was rather afraid of their size and learned to keep my distance. Life was great. I had a big garden, people who seemed to love me, dogs to play with, plenty of places to sleep in the sun and lots of food. I even had my own food bowl. But I missed Nayo. Where was he? Why wasn't he here too?

I was just settling in nicely when suddenly everything changed again. One day a car pulled onto the driveway. We 3 dogs rushed to the gate. It was a big car and 2 ladies got out. One of them came straight to me. I was standing with my front paws on the gate and she stroked me and talked to me. Another new sound. Strange these humans. I didn't know it then but this was Alex, the one who was soon to become the most important person in my life. The one who had fallen in love with my photo on the Internet and the one whose side I've been at ever since that day in the summer of 2007.

The other lady opened the back of the car and a huge dog jumped out. A big grey thing who seemed to be all legs. This was Oscar. He was much bigger than me but looked friendly enough. I could get along with him, I figured.

We all went into the back garden. Oscar and I checked each other out. Yeah, he smelled ok, wasn't aggressive. I grabbed a rope toy and ran with it. He chased me but boy was he slow. I stopped to let him catch me. He grabbed the other end of the rope and pulled. I almost lost my teeth. What he lacked in speed he sure made up for in strength. We played like that for a while and then flopped down in the sun. I liked him. I had a new friend.

I spent the evening curled up next to Alex. This was the start of something special, I could feel it.

I wasn't wrong. The next day I got into the car with the 3 of them and we drove away. I climbed into a big bed next to Oscar and fell asleep.

My new home was awesome. Fields, mountains, the amazing air full of new smells. It was fantastic. I ran free and chased butterflies in the meadow, I went with Alex when she went jogging, I slept in the sun on the terrace and on the couch with Alex. Life was wonderful. 

I even got a new name. To be honest I don't even know what my old name was. Nobody had ever used it much in Spain and in Germany I pretty much came running whenever I heard them shout. Shouts meant food so it didn't really matter what they shouted, I was there. Here I noticed that Alex and her friend, Sylvia, used the word 'Nala' a lot. At first I didn't know why, but when they looked at me and called 'Nala' I realised they meant me. Nala, it had a nice ring to it and I was delighted that I had a name belonging just to me. Other words I learned quickly too. 'Walk' (that meant smells and running around, no problem there), 'breakfast', 'teatime', 'sit' (all connected to food so I learned them very fast), 'No! and 'Come here' took me a while to learn and I still interpret them conservatively occasionally, especially when I'm busy doing something particularly exciting like rolling on something that smells heavenly or running across a field. Honestly, I don't know why Alex has such a problem with this.

One day we all got in the car. I love car rides and sensed it was going to be a long trip because Oscar and me had our bed in there. We slept, getting out a few times to stretch our legs. I loved these stops. There wasn't much grass but I could smell hundreds of other dogs who had also stopped there.

Suddenly I woke up, sniffed the air through the open window. I knew this place. I was back with the dogs and horses and cats. The dogs rushed out to meet us. Hang on, something smells different here, something smells familiar, very familiar. Oh my God! It's Nayo. Nayo is here! He made it. Alex opened the door and I jumped out of the car, cleared the gate and ran to Nayo. He was here, he was really here. We ran around and around, overjoyed. It was unbelievable. I thought I would never see him again, but here he was. He looked rather nervous but he was still my Nayo, my brother. We had a fantastic time together and Alex even made a little film of us playing. (click link to play). We stayed the whole weekend and then, with a tear in all our eyes, we got back in the car and drove home to the mountains. It was hard to leave Nayo again but I knew he'd be fine now. Maybe he'd stay there with them or maybe a new family would come and give him a home of his own, one just like I had.

The months passed and it got colder. I wasn't used to this. Alex bought me a coat. I didn't like it very much and I felt stupid in it, but I was warmer I must admit. One morning we got up and went outside. It was freezing and there was this funny cold white stuff on the ground. It was everywhere. Everything was white. Snow. I wasn't sure what it was all about but Oscar seemed to be ok with it so off we went on our walk. It felt funny under my feet and I had to run to keep warm. Oscar was chasing snowballs, he seemed to love it. Soon we were all rolling around in it and having fun. Ok, if this is what snow meant, I could live with it.

Winter turned to spring and I learned to run at the side of Alex's bike. Or at least, that's what she tried to teach me to do. Trouble is there were so many exciting smells along the way, I just had to stop to investigate and sometimes my nose led me in a different direction to where Alex was riding. Sometimes she got mad but I always ran back to her in the end. I mean, come on, as if I'd ever leave, no way! I can't help my nose though can I, it's the way I'm made. It just happens, even now. I smell something exciting and just have to see where it leads. I don't hurt anything (except I do like to eat grasshoppers when I catch them) or do any harm. Fortunately, when I come running back to Alex, all I have to do is wag my tail and do my funny little happy dance and she forgives me immediately for disappearing.

A while later things changed again. Alex took me and we left. I missed Sylvia and Oscar and I sensed Alex was sad. What mattered though was that we were together. We moved around, settling for a while before moving on again. I didn't mind it really, I had Alex and she had me. Wherever we were was home as far as I was concerned. One day Alex had to leave me, to go away for a while. I couldn't go with her because dogs weren't allowed. I stayed with a family I love very much, it's almost like home there. I was fine but I missed Alex. I knew she'd be back, I just didn't know when. 

It was summer. Alex had been gone a few weeks and I was in the apartment where my family lived. They had gone out for a while and there were boxes everywhere, I knew something big was happening. I didn't feel so good and I suddenly noticed I had a couple of sores on my stomach and legs. They didn't hurt but they were quite wet. I licked them. I must have fallen asleep on the couch because a while later I woke up when I heard somebody come in. It was Alex! I hurled myself off the sofa into her arms, I've never been so pleased to see anybody in my life. We danced around, a sight we must've looked, me whining and jumping around and Alex crying and hugging me. Then she stopped. She had noticed my sores. I didn't care about a few sores, Alex was back!

I slept on the sofa with Alex that night. I was happy.

The next morning I had more sores. Alex was now seriously worried, I could tell. An hour later we were walking into a house I'd never been in before. There was a lady and a table. Alex lifted me up and I began to shake. I didn't like it. This was a vet and my experiences up to now hadn't exactly been positive. Alex held me and talked to me. Of course I trusted her, but I didn't know if I could trust this vet. She was gentle though, this vet lady, and I sensed she liked animals. Not all vets do in my experience. She talked to me and talked to Alex and I got an injection. A while later we left with some tablets. Not at all bad as far as vet visits go but I was still relieved to be out of there. 

Over the next few days my sores began to get better and no new ones appeared. I saw the vet again but my sores were much better and I walked out with my tail in the air, happy as anything.

Little did any of us know, this was just the beginning.

Alex's Story 2007-2009

I'm Alex, and Nala is my princess. 

Together - always

I've had dogs all my life and to be honest I'd never considered a rescue dog. Not for any specific reason, it had just never occurred to me. Nala changed all that. I stumbled upon her picture in the Internet and that was it, game over. If it would've been down to me I'd have jumped in the car there and then and driven to Frankfurt to meet her. It's not as easy as that though. Thankfully, checks have to be done to make sure prospective new owners are suitable and also genuine. I later shuddered when I learned that some dogs from rescue organisations are unwittingly given into the hands of animal testing laboratories, or worse. God forbid!

I was impatient though and phone calls flew back and forth, talking about Nala and checking us out. Finally, after what seemed like weeks, we were in the car headed for Germany. 

As we pulled up onto the driveway, 3 dogs ran out. A cacophony of barking followed. I slowly got out of the car, my eyes never leaving the medium sized bundle of joy, front paws on the gate, wagging her tail like crazy. I went to her and stroked her. She licked my hand and I talked to her. This was it, love at first sight. A woman came out of the house. This was Nala's foster mother, the one who had agreed to take Nala into her family until a someone came to give her a permanent home. Whether I would be allowed to take Nala home with me, would ultimately be her decision. 

Her husband came out to join us and we all went into their huge garden. Their other 2 dogs were shut in the house for a while, we had to see how Nala and Oscar would get along. Oscar is a cool, laid back kind of guy and I was sure there'd be no problem but you never know. They sniffed around each other, so far so good. Nala picked up a rope toy and ran with it, inviting him to play. He ambled after her. She stopped, wagging her tail and teasing him with the rope. He grabbed it. She started to run again and he dug his feet in, pulled and shook his head. His weight and strength were in his favour now and little Nala almost flew through the air. Such was the look of surprise on her cute little face that we all laughed. Our laughter distracted Oscar and he dropped the toy. She grabbed it and was off once again. Oscar and Nala, speed balanced by strength. They would be fine.

We spent the evening there, Nala curled up at my side. Our bond was instant, and a glance at her foster mother told me she saw it that way too. Thank you God. 3 days ago I hadn't even known she existed but a few hours later, paperwork completed, she belonged to me, and I to her. 

Back home in the mountains she settled in very quickly. She was an absolute joy. To see her was to smile, you couldn't help yourself, she exuded happiness. She wagged her tail 24/7 and the sight of her running as fast as her legs would carry her towards me, actually brought tears to my eyes.

Nala wasn't originally called Nala. When she came from Spain she was called Ligia. This was the name given to her in the private dogs home. If she had a name before that, who knew. I debated endlessly what to call her, I didn't like Ligia. After a few days I stumbled across the perfect name, Nala. It means 'gift'. That's what she is, a gift.

We became inseparable. I took her jogging, out in the car, we played together and laid together. Life was good.

The coming months brought change. Nala and me were on the move. It was a sad time but we were together, she was my solace and my one constant.

Then, the unthinkable happened. I was forced to leave her. I had to go to Italy to work for a while and dogs were not welcome, not even princesses. I left her with a very good friend who adored Nala almost as much as I did. She would be fine here, well looked after and loved. It broke my heart to leave her and when I dropped her off I couldn't say goodbye. God knows how I reached my destination that day, I was a mess.

I was in constant contact with my friend and I knew Nala was ok. She missed me but she was fine. I was desperate to get back to see her. First chance I got, I took it. I knew my friend was moving house and that Nala would be alone in the apartment. I drove through the late evening and let myself in. No sound. Nala's no barker, I think she's barked about a dozen times since I've had her. I went into the living room and as I switched on the light, something flew at me. It was my princess. She landed squarely in my arms and the next few minutes were incredible, like something out of a soppy film. 

And then, when she'd stopped wriggling about long enough, I noticed something, a sore. It looked like maybe she'd been bitten by a tick and had pulled it out herself. I rolled her over. Oh God, this was no tick bite, she had at least half a dozen of these things on the insides of her legs and on her stomach and chest area. They were circular open areas, about 1cm in diameter. They were red and wet, they looked awful. 

I called my friend, asked her what this was, how long she'd had them. She was as surprised as I was. She hadn't noticed anything she said, Nala had been ok when she'd left her a few hours ago. I was stunned. What the hell broke out on the skin so suddenly? We would have to see the vet first thing in the morning. I was worried. We cuddled up together and eventually fell asleep.

I woke early and checked her over. There were 5 new sores, 5, overnight!! Oh God!

I rang my friend. Nala and me didn't have a vet here but my friend did, and she just happened to be a skin specialist. Within the hour we were there. 

Nala hates vets. She's not aggressive, just terrified. Because in every other aspect of her personality she's such a lion hearted little fighter, I can only imagine what awful experiences she must've had in the first 18months of her life at the hands of animal doctors, qualified or otherwise, to make her react this way. I held her, stroked her, talked to her. She trembled like a leaf. The vet was great, very gentle, very kind and very intrigued at such a potentially interesting skin case. She took swabs, took blood, asked questions, all the time talking and reassuring Nala. I liked her. She gave Nala an injection and some antibiotics. We were to come back in a few days. By then she would have the blood results and we'd know if the antibiotics were the right ones. 

As we left, I was still worried but at the same time strangely reassured. My princess was in good hands, she would be fine now.

An Interesting Case - Johanna's Story 2007

Personal physician to Princess Nala 

My name is Johanna and I'm a vet in a small town in Austria. I mainly look after small animals and I specialise in dermatology.

I remember clearly the day I first met Nala and Alex. It was a Monday morning. My surgery isn't usually open for patients until the evening but I got a call from a woman I know and I have no problem to see an animal if the owner is so worried.

A while later, 2 ladies and a dog entered my surgery. And yes, the owner, who introduced herself as Alex, was worried. I could clearly read it in her face.

Alex is from England and had problems understanding the dialect here so this was a great opportunity for me to practice my English. To be honest, my medical English is quite good because most of the major veterinary texts are written in English but I don't get much chance to speak to a real English person.

The dog they introduced me to, a medium sized German short haired pointer mix, is called Nala. She's a pretty dog, sensitive and intelligent. She was 3 years old, spayed, vaccinated and chipped and had come all the way from Spain to our country in the middle of the Alps. Spain, a country of origin where your first question is always: has she been tested? A look at her papers told me she had been, and that the results were all negative. There was no reason not to trust the vets in Spain.

As a dermatologist, Nala's symptoms caught my attention immediately: all these pustules on the underside of her body.Very interesting indeed. I mumbled something of the kind to Alex, but she was so worried that she maybe thought my interest rather strange.

I biopsied Nala's pustules, prepared a swab to culture the pus and added a skin scraping. The results would take a couple of days but we couldn't wait before starting to treat her. I told Alex I would begin treatment with antibiotics immediately and then wait and see.

Nala got an injection, tablets for 10 days and they left.

Two days later, the culture result was ready. I knew then, that the antibiotic treatment I had started, would work. I called the lady Nala and Alex were staying with and she told me that the pustules were already almost gone.

I leaned back and thought about these little things that made me smile. A successful treatment of a very interesting skin case.

To be honest, I didn't expect this case to get even more interesting, or worrying, but that is another story.

For now, Nala was fine again.

Nala's Story 2009

Hello, It's me again, Nala. Where was I before Alex and then Johanna interrupted me? It's my story you know, ladies! Actually I take that back, because without the 2 of them there would be no story to tell. Alex and me belong together and Johanna means a lot to both of us. None of us could have known back then how our paths would merge, how Johanna would become part of our lives. I must say though, I'm very glad she did.

So anyway, there I was trotting out of the vet's place, happy and relieved, with my medication tucked into Alex's back pocket. I felt great. Alex was back, it was summer and I had finally met a nice vet. Life was good.

Alex had to leave again for a while but I knew she'd be back soon enough and I loved the family I was staying with very much. Mama Gerlinde and the kids looked after me very well.

My sores cleared up very fast. I had no pain, no itching, they were just gone. I felt fine. It seemed the tablets they'd been hiding in a piece of cheese every morning (I'm not stupid you know) had worked.

We moved house and now I had a lovely big terrace and a huge garden. Life was never boring there. There were lots of dogs to play with and I was allowed to lie in the sun or cuddle on the sofa whenever I liked. I am a princess you know!

One afternoon I was relaxing in the sun on Gerlinde's favourite sun chair. She always put the chair in the sun, put a soft cushion and a towel on it and went back inside. It seemed like an invitation so I jumped up and made myself comfortable. When she came back out a few minutes later carrying a book and her sunglasses, she seemed to be surprised to find me there. I don't know why. I mean why arrange such a wonderful place for me to relax and then look surprised to find me there? Sometimes I just don't understand humans. Anyway, there I was stretched out in the sun. I could hear the kids splashing around in the pool and I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard a voice I knew well, better than any other. Alex! Alex was back.

I forgot all about my afternoon nap and jumped up to meet her as she walked out onto the terrace. How great was this!

There was something very relaxed about her and I sensed that this wasn't just a visit. Somehow I knew that this time she was back for good.

She sat down on the bench to have a beer with Gerlinde. I attached myself to her side. I might be able to sense that she was staying but we had been apart and I needed to be near her. We sat like that for a while, the 3 of us. Alex and Gerlinde talking and Alex's arm around me. A few times I heard my name and a couple of times I heard the word 'Nayo'. I wish I could understand this language they speak. What was it about Nayo? Was he coming here too? I listened but Alex didn't say his name again. I wondered where he was. Did he have a new family? Was he ok? Was he happy? I really hoped so.

I thought for a while about the dogs who maybe weren't as pretty as me or as confident as me or as young as me. How many of those dogs had been given a second chance? In the perrera in Spain, it's the strongest who get to the food first, the strongest who get themselves noticed, the strongest who ultimately have the best chance of survival. Nayo was a good looking dog but his spirit was broken. I'm sure he had only made it to Germany because he was my brother, because my foster mother wanted to help him too. It made me happy to know he was in Germany but sad to think of all the dogs who weren't so lucky, the dogs whom nobody rescued.

Alex stroked my ears as if she knew what I was thinking. I knew I was one of the few who are saved. I had been lucky, very lucky indeed.

A while later we went out to the car. It's a big car and it was full. Only my seat up front next to Alex was free. I hopped in and Alex secured my seat belt. Gerlinde waved as we drove away down the road. I had no idea where we were going but I was so proud to be sitting up front next to Alex again, and so happy.

Imagine the shock I got when we stopped outside the vet's house! Oh my God a vet visit! I was fine, I really was, no need to be here. Yes, I liked the lady but move on please, let's go!

Alex got out, came around to open my door and unbuckled my seat belt. I hesitated. I didn't really want to go in here. Alex laughed and went to open a door. Hang on, this wasn't where we went in last time. This looked like a house, not a vet's. I stayed in my seat and watched as Alex started to take things out of the car and into the house. I could see that this was an apartment, it looked a bit like the one we'd had before. Nobody seemed to be home. Interesting. Back and forth she went, carrying things inside. I sat there for what seemed like ages. Eventually Alex came to the door of the apartment and looked at me. I glanced over my shoulder. All the boxes were gone, the car was empty. Ok, this was it, now or never. My curiosity and my need to be where Alex was, got the better of me. I jumped down and ran into the house. Everything seemed normal, no vet's table and better still, no vet! I looked around and then went to sniff in every corner. I could smell a dog, but only one. Maybe this really was just a normal house and not the vet's place after all.

We tried my bed in several different places before I settled on a spot. It was next to the radiator and near the glass front door. I don't bark much but that doesn't mean I don't like to see who's coming and going.

We settled in, the 2 of us. Alex arranged the things from the boxes and it started to feel like home. We explored the area. There were a lot of cars here so I wasn't allowed to run free anymore. I was happy to stay on the lead, I don't like cars. I'm not scared but I'm sure I'd get run over. A few minutes away there was a lovely area with water and lots of things called ducks. Oh what fun it was to pretend to chase them and watch them all fly up in the air. This made Alex a bit cross and I did try not to do it, but sometimes if they were all together and one of them came just a bit too close, I just couldn't help myself. I ran and they all flew up in the air making that horrible noise they make. I don't like it when Alex is cross with me but there seemed to be no grasshoppers and butterflies to catch here and I have to have some fun chasing things, don't I?!

I was lazing in my bed when suddenly there was a knock at the door. I looked up. Oh God! It was her, the vet lady. Alex! Where are you? Help me! Alex was somewhere around but didn't appear. Where was she when I needed her? The vet lady and me just looked at each other through the glass door. What did she want? We hadn't seen her since we'd been here and so I'd been sure this was just a normal house. Why was she suddenly here? I gave a little bark. Aleeeeex! And here she was. Whew. She went to the door and let the vet lady in. I held my breath. She came over, patted me and then sat down to have coffee with Alex. Wow! 

And so we settled into our new routine, Alex and me. Often we went into the vet's house too. She was very nice and accepted me just as Nala, not as a patient. I liked her very much and there was always, always something to eat there. She had children, some cats and a dog called Kenny. Ah yes, this was the dog I had smelled in our apartment. I loved Kenny from the beginning. He was big and black and very cool. He was a bit like me, he liked to play, but when he wanted to, not when people told him he should. When he wasn't in the mood he simply ignored all attempts to get him to move. He knew his own mind. I liked that about him. The cats kept out of my way even though I didn't chase them. I totally like cats, in Germany I lived with lots of them. We used to sleep in the sun together. Maybe cats here were different. 

Before I knew it, it was winter again and I was running around in my coat. We'd found a few longer walks where I could run free and I loved jumping through the snow. Kenny liked to roll in it but I always thought that looked much too cold. Brrr. No, I can live with snow and I like it if I keep moving but I'm a sunshine girl at heart. It was after one of these longer walks that I noticed there was something not quite right on one of my back feet. It was uncomfortable. Between 2 of my toes it felt sore. I licked it for a while. Alex was out so I could lick in peace. I don't understand why humans always want to stop us licking, it's perfectly normal isn't it. Kenny also liked to lick, and he too was always being told to stop. We're clever though, us dogs; we just wait until we're alone and then we can lick and lick to our heart's content. 

Anyway, I licked for a while and must've fallen asleep. Alex came back, gave me something to eat and we laid on the sofa together for a while. When it was time for our evening walk, Alex went to fetch my coat. I'm not a fan of evening walks in the cold and dark so I stayed on the sofa, half asleep until Alex called me. I got up and jumped down. Ouch! Oh my foot, oh my foot! Alex immediately knelt down beside me and gently took hold of the foot I was holding in the air. It hurt so much I couldn't stand on it properly. She looked worried. A minute later our walk was forgotten and we were on our way upstairs to Johanna. I had got to know her quite well by now so she wasn't 'the vet lady' in my mind anymore, she was our friend.

Johanna looked at my foot and said something to Alex. We all 3 went back down the stairs but instead of going outside to our place we went through a door I'd never been through before. As the door closed behind me I saw it. The dreaded table. I started to shake. Alex picked me up and put me on the table. She was holding me and talking to me while Johanna looked at my toes. Ouch! I tried to pull my foot away but I couldn't. She put something on it, cream I think it was, and then bandaged me up. Alex lifted me down so I knew it was over. I stood there on 3 legs. How was I supposed to walk around with this funny thing on my foot? I hopped a few steps and then tried to walk. Not very comfortable but better than hopping everywhere. 

A week went by and my foot was no better. Every time I walked my toes rubbed together and it really hurt. I didn't like the bandage and so whenever I was alone I chewed it off so I could lick my toes. Licking didn't make it better but somehow I just had to lick. Alex didn't understand and I knew she was worried. Johanna tried some different things but another week went by and still there was no improvement. I got some tablets then and they left me without a bandage. Alex made sure she was with me almost all the time so I didn't get the chance to lick and bit by bit, it started to get better. A while later I could walk without any pain and things went back to normal. I think they thought it had been caused by the snow because now, whenever we came back inside, Alex washed and dried my feet. It seemed to work, because I was fine again.

None of us connected it to my sores the previous summer, there was no reason to. Not yet anyway...

Alex' Story 2012

A couple of years passed and Nala had a couple of skin outbreaks but nothing major. Nothing like we'd seen on her stomach and legs back in the summer of 2009. They were strange these sores. They always appeared between two of her back toes, and always seemed to come and go on their own no matter what Johanna did or didn't do.  I could tell that as a skin specialist, she was troubled by a lack of diagnosis but these incidences were fairly rare and only lasted a couple of weeks and it wasn't as if Nala was ever anything other than her normal happy go lucky princess like self. We were puzzled but not overly worried. Life continued as normal, Nala and Alex, Alex and Nala. Going places, doing things, enjoying life.

Then, it happened. 

Nala had had one of her funny little sores, on her leg this time, for a few days. It was only about as big as your little finger nail and I wasn't particularly worried. Then one morning I got up and started to feed her. She didn't move from her bed. Oh God! Nala loves to eat. Anytime. Anything. At breakfast time she's usually sitting wagging her tail before I'm even out of bed. When I pick up the dish she dances around and by the time I'm dishing up she's almost overcome with excitement. On this day, nothing. My stomach was in my boots as I knelt down by the bed. I stroked her and she lifted her head to lick me. Her tongue was warm. I touched her ears, they were warm too. As she turned her head fully towards me I saw she had the start of a horrible looking sore right above her eye. Oh God! I got dressed and we went straight to Johanna.

Johanna was alarmed too. Three days previously Nala been running around with Kenny, completely and utterly her normal self. She examined her in silence and then looked across the table at me.

"Alex, I'm going to test for Leishmaniasis. I know she tested negative in Spain but we need to retest her. I think this could be Leish."

I was stunned. What the hell was Leishmaniasis? Still, Johanna is a great vet and I was ready to let her do anything that she thought might help my princess. She gave Nala a couple of injections, gave me some cream to put on her wounds and took me upstairs for a cup of tea. She hand fed Nala some chicken and true to form, the princess gobbled it up. We talked a while and I calmed down. She doesn't only treat Nala, this amazing woman.

Over the next couple of days while we waited for the results the sore above her eye got bigger. It was big, deep and messy. She also developed two others, one on her top lip and the other at the side of her head. It was awful to look at but even worse to see my lively princess feeling so obviously unwell. We spent long hours on the sofa together and I fed her chicken and rice and anything I could think of to tempt her to eat. She ate. For that I was grateful.

Two days later, a bombshell. She had leish.

Up to now I hadn't believed it could be leish. She'd tested negative in Spain. I had to find out more. I googled.

With my princess laying beside me I sat staring at horrific images of dogs with leish. I couldn't believe my eyes. This wasn't Nala, MY Nala. It couldn't be happening. At that moment she put her head on my knee and looked at me. The dam broke. I cried my eyes out for an hour.  Please God no! Not Nala, please!

Johanna said she would do some research and order some medication. Leish isn't really known about here in Austria but I trusted her. Implicitly. She told me to stay away from the Internet and we'd talk about it the next day. 

Nala and me slept on the sofa together that night. I needed her next to me.

The next day the sore above her eye was much worse and we were at Johanna's early. She gave me a hug and told me not to worry, Nala was going to be ok. And then she sat me down and explained to me, in her inimitable clear and easy manner, about leish and how it's transmitted and how she wanted to treat Nala. By the time she'd finished I felt 100% better. She gave me antibiotics to help clear up the wounds and some other tablets. That was the first time I heard the word Allopurinol. It's a human medicine used to treat gout and it's laughably cheap. I paid a grand total of €7.20. I was gobsmacked. I would've paid €720!

We went home and she got her first tablets about half a second after we walked through the door.

Within 24 hours she was obviously feeling much more like herself and was back to normal eating. 24 hours after that the wounds stopped getting worse. 2 days later they were drying up and Nala was almost back to normal. I was over the moon. She looked like she'd been in a bad fight but I didn't care what she looked like, she was getting better.

We saw Johanna every day and she checked on Nala's wounds. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful she is. Awesome vet. Awesome lady. Thank you Johanna! 

It took about 2 weeks for the wounds to disappear completely. She had white patches where they'd been and I didn't know if the hair would grow back. Johanna said it would but I didn't care if it didn't. I had my princess back.

Two weeks after treatment with Allopurinol

For me though, the diagnosis was just the beginning. Now that I knew it was survivable, I was determined that we weren't going to let this rule our lives. I vowed to find out as much as I could and to share our story with others.

Leish isn't curable but it's treatable and mostly there is absolutely no need for the kind of meltdown I experienced. I decided to set up a group to help others avoid the sheer terror I had felt when I had heard those fatal words, 'It's Leish'. I wanted people to have somewhere to go to get help, comfort, advice, reassurance, information. In short I wanted to establish a community of people who, just like Nala and I, were LIVING WITH LEISH (clink link to view/join the Facebook group).

Alex and the Leishmania Parasite 2013

So, it seems you've been hanging around in Nala's blood for some time then huh? Her Spanish passport says 'Leishmania negative' but it seems you were clever, you somehow hopped aboard before she left the country. Mind you, I can't say I blame you, I wouldn't want to live in a country where many people are systemically cruel to anything that doesn't have 2 legs, either. 

Hey! Are you listening to me? Yes, Leishmania parasites I am talking to you! Yes, I'm over here and I'm so glad I've got your attention 'cos this is all about you. You might as well bask in the limelight for a while.

I must confess to being an ignoramus. I adopted a dog from Spain and I'd never even heard of you and your 3 friends, commonly known as the four Mediterranean diseases. Do you think you're a boy band or something? Together you are the Mediterranean diseases but you, Leishmania, are the bad boy, the Robbie Williams, always causing trouble and impossible to get rid of. 

When I heard the word 'incurable' I must admit to having a minor (ok I admit it, major) meltdown. You see my Nala and me we belong together, no - more than that, to each other. We belong to each other. She had a tough enough time with the hunter and then in that damn perrera in Spain, and now it seemed that some other shit from her past had caught up with her. Well, Mr. Leishmania Parasite, not on my watch will this happen. Never. Ever. I've been through some tough times with this dog at my side and let me tell you I will protect her until one of us takes our last breath. Do you hear me? Am I getting through? Entiendes?!

So, it was time to go to war. Any smart general knows that the most important thing before entering into any kind of a battle is to 'know thine enemy'. (Hang on I've got somebody rabbiting away in Chinese here. Yes, I know that's your quote Sun Tzu and I know you were a famous chinese general and nothing to do with dogs but please butt out, this doesn't concern you!). Where was I? Oh yes, finding out all about you Mr. L.P so that I could blast you to kingdom come. Ok, so maybe that's a bit melodramatic (blame our Chinese friend) but you get the picture. I already knew I couldn't get rid of you altogether but I could do my damndest to keep you in the background. Ha!

I started by trying to compare Nala's blood test results with others. I wanted to know how many of you buggers were partying in there. It seemed difficult to compare as there didn't seem to be a set measuring stick to compare against so I decided it was probably pointless at this stage. You were there and that was that. So I set about researching medication and talking to other people in the same boat as Nala and me. Facebook is a bloody great thing sometimes - allowing me to talk to dog owners from the USA, Canada, Spain, England, Macedonia, Greece and beyond. It was awesome as they say in the good ol' U.S of A. 

To be fair many of these people are better informed than some vets, simply because they've had to be. In countries where you, Mr. L.P, are not endemic, most vets will have only learned about you from their books. Not their fault. However, once people outside Spain wised up to the cruelty towards dogs there and began adopting Spanish dogs, it wasn't only their suitcase that was packed and passport stamped, yours was too. In many cases, like with my Nala, you were a stowaway, nobody knew you were there until you were safely out of the country. And like with most stowaways, when you did eventually surface, nobody knew what the hell to do with you. It seemed there were so many Nalas and so many Alexes around. You must've felt so mighty Mr. L.P, such a big man. Make the most of it though, this mini reign of terror you got going ain't gonna last forever.

I read over and over that Allopurinol on its own was only suitable where you exist only in small numbers. Hm, not the case for my Nala. After her initial major skin outbreak in September 2012 which led to her diagnosis, we did manage to subdue you for a while but you always lingered in the background. At Christmas she had a little wound between her toes again. It went away after a course of antibiotics but of course you couldn't stay away could you, you soon reappeared. Time to bring out the big guns.

I'd read about 2 different courses of treatment, both of which would sort you out good and proper. One was called Glucantime and this involved Nala getting an injection in her leg twice a day for a month. I didn't much fancy this route, particularly when I read that it can't be given if there's any liver or kidney damage present. Strike that. Not that Nala had liver or kidney issues, our lovely vet checked that of course, but injecting her twice a day, not for me. The other treatment was called Milteforan. This was a liquid, given into the mouth or mixed with food once a day for 20 or 30 days. Ah this sounded better. Diahorrea and vomiting were frequent side effects and I had to wear gloves to handle it but it sounded like something we could live with, me and my princess. 

I discussed it with our vet and she agreed and placed our order. It took a week and a half to come from Switzerland because it's not available here in Austria and she had to order it directly from Virbac who make it. It's not cheap either. Normal European price is around €200 for a 20kg dog. I believe it's more expensive still in many countries. However, this was for my princess and against you Mr.L.P and that's worth any amount of my hard earned money.

The package arrived, no English or German instructions but we muddled through, my vet and me. I put on the gloves, drew off the first dose and squirted it into Nala's breakfast with a silent prayer that any side effects be minimal and a silent apology to Nala if this toxic stuff should make her poorly. My final address was to you, Mr.L.P - may this stuff send you running for the hills, screaming in agony and begging for mercy.

We are now on our tenth day of treatment. No sickness. No diahorrea. Ha! And you Mr. L.P, you're pretty quiet already, her toes don't look so bad as they did before we started. Another 20 days ahead of us and by then I hope we'll have silenced you. I know we can't eradicate you and I can live with that. I only want to banish you to a place where you can't hurt my princess. 

To my friends who taught me and are still teaching me about Leish and its treatments I say - thank god I met you. To my wonderful vet and friend Johanna, who walks along side Nala and me every step of the way, I say - you are the best. To you Mr. L.P, the cause of so much pain, suffering and worry I say, Adios!

To my Princess Nala, my four legged best friend, I say - trust me Princess, we will beat this, together.

Nala's Story 2014

Life has changed quite a lot in the last year. I had to take some awful medicine to stop me getting these horrible sores. It wasn't very nice but I feel great and I haven't had any sores at all now for 9 months. Alex keeps checking my feet because I know she worries about me but I think I'm ok and I know Alex and Johanna would find a way to make me better again even if something else happened. I'm lucky.
Our family got bigger too. It was a big change for me and Alex but the boys are cool and Alex still makes plenty of time for me. I know that I am and always will be, Alex's princess so I guess I can share her with Rico and Leo. There is more than enough love for all of us. Tomorrow is my birthday and I'm going for a walk with just Alex to my favourite place. I can run free there. I love it. Then we'll go to a place where Alex likes to write. She will work and I will curl up by her side. I love the boys but sometimes I need Alex just for myself. She loves it too, I can tell. Later we'll go home and there'll be chicken and vegetables for tea. It will be a good day. I love my life and no matter what happens I know that I will always be by Alex's side.  

My story isn't over, not by a long way, but I hope you've enjoyed getting to know me.

I am, Princess Nala.