Tango Archives - Smart Dog University

Tango

July 26, 2018

I had planned to write this on January 17 while I was on a cross-country flight to the West coast. I was ready to write it. I had recovered enough that I could form coherent sentences and I’d finally reached the point where I smiled when I thought about Tango.

But then a thing happened that put this post off until now. I am not ready yet to write about that thing, but it’s coming. One thing at a time.

Tango C. Mango

Fifteen years ago today, the best dog ever, Tango (aka Fig) came into our lives. Tango was the third service puppy we raised. He was our first yellow and he was a fun addition to our dog family.

Tango was a surprise. I had gone to the service dog organization for a scheduled check-in and progress update with Lily (our second service dog-in-training) and afterwards, we went to evaluate a potential puppy at a nearby farm.

The kennel knew that at nine weeks old Tango wasn’t going to be a good fit for them (hunting and conformation showing), so they called the service dog agency. He was a steady, solid pup and passed the initial temperament tests so we popped him in the car and brought him back. The director asked if I wanted another pup and without even asking my husband, I agreed.

I was staying the weekend with my parents and when I walked in the door with Lily and this new pup, it was quite a surprise. It also happened to be my dad’s 66th birthday and I walked into the house carrying this little yellow bundle and said “Happy Birthday, Dad!” There were a lot of things my dad might have wanted for his birthday, but a puppy wasn’t one of them. I laughed and, much to my dad’s relief, explained who this new little guy was.

Early training

Tango was one of the easiest dogs to train. Because I already had Lily at work as a service dog-in-training, Tango had to stay home for a couple of months. We worked long days, so I set up a big sort of playpen for Tango complete with sleeping area, water, and a bathroom area. We had a neighborhood girl come in to let him out when she got off the bus, but for the most part, he was alone all day. Aside from the time when he had a stomach bug, he never went to the bathroom in the house.

I started bringing Tango to work fairly early because he was house trained so early. Going to work with Tango was like going to work with a celebrity. He was the third dog to go to work with me, but he made friends wherever he went.

I worked at a government agency and there were about 3,000 employees scattered across a campus of about 20 buildings. Ours was a close-knit community and while I didn’t know everyone who worked there, each face was recognizable. You knew they worked there even if you didn’t know their name. Our Director was a presidential appointee and while I’d gotten approval to bring the service dog-in-training to work, I felt like we were still walking on eggshells. The thought of a new Director terrified me — what if he quashed this trial program and refused to allow dogs-in-training at work?

One day a man got on the elevator with us. He didn’t look familiar, but we made small talk until I got to my floor. I didn’t see him again for a few weeks when he was introduced to the campus as the new Director.

I had always tried to blend in with the dog at work. I was the “trial case” and I really didn’t want to cause waves or draw any more attention to myself than walking around a government building with a dog. One day while we were getting lunch in the cafeteria, someone stops me as Tango and I are walking out. It was the Director, sitting at a table with other executives. He stopped his working lunch to pet the dog and then let us go on our way. So much for blending in.

Tango’s service dog career and the Director’s appointment ended at roughly the same time. Before they both left, however, we had many surprise visits when the Director just dropped into my office (thank goodness those were the days before social media took off, so I was almost always doing legitimate work!). There was one December when he invited us up to his office for a holiday party — with his dog! That was certainly a December I’ll always remember.

Tango was disqualified from service work about halfway through his training due to an elbow abnormality that would likely shorten his working career. I was elated to get the news.

He and me

For the next fourteen years or so, Tango was by my side in both adventure, education, and business.

He was my “KPA dog”—the dog who was a partner in my dog trainer education. It was an intense 6-month program in which we both had to do our part in order to graduate.

The transition from service dog to pet dog was tough for Tango. He delighted in going places with me and had a really hard time understanding why I left him behind when I went out. To give him a taste of his former life that he loved so much, Tango and I were certified as a therapy dog team.

We spent time in nursing homes, hospice facilities, and, Tango’s favorite, elementary schools. By far, his favorite place to go was the local elementary school (where, coincidentally, I went to school 31 years before Tango was born.

We spent many years at my old elementary school with kids who had developmental disabilities. He loved those kids so much and really delighted in our weekly trips. They read to him and he hung on every single word.

For about ten years, we were sure the radiographs that got him dismissed from service work had been incorrect. He was fit, he’d swim all day, retrieve until he was exhausted. He was an athlete!

And then we noticed a very slight limp. Every now and then. Maybe we were imagining it. A year or so later and the limp was still slight, but it was there more often. And then it was there all the time. And before we knew it, there was a ramp to get into the car, a ramp to get into the house, and a ramp to get up just one step within the house.

The medication started, too. Initially just one pill and only when needed. But before it was all over, there were so many drugs, so many times a day. There were joint injections, acupuncture, massage, and laser. We did everything we could for as long as we could.

Tango loved tomatoes, just like I did. I loved tomatoes, but I loved him more and he always got the very first tomato of the season.

One of his favorite things was going to the garden with me and picking ripe tomatoes from the vine. I knew he’d have trouble getting to the garden last year, so I planted three tomatoes in the yard for him. Even when his arthritis was at it’s worst, he wanted to go out and pick some tomatoes.

I made a little toast to Tango as I ate that first tomato this year.

Us

I won’t recount every single thing we did together, there are too many. And it’s not really what we did that was special, it’s that we did it together.

We were a team. He was mine and I was his. My favorite dog, no matter which dog we had in training, Tango always got the best sleeping spot, the best leftovers, the best toy. I was my best when I was with him.

I know I’ll love other dogs. Of course I will. They’re dogs after all. But there won’t be another like this one.

Tango C Mango
May 18, 2003 – December 11, 2017
The Best Dog Ever

Knocked Down. And Then Again.

February 5, 2018

I’ve had “write blog post” on my daily schedule for the last six days. I keep moving it.

Regular readers (ha, as if I’ve been a regular writer) know that for the past thirteen or so months, my life has been more personal and less business.

It started when our 11-year old “healthy” dog, Nemo, died suddenly as he was walking into the house one afternoon.

That rocked me back on my heels and sort of set the whole family adrift.

Then, I took Tango to the veterinary hospital for drinking too much water and we wound up with same-day splenectomy surgery and an eventual two-cancer diagnosis.

Tango’s health was up and down for a few months, then things evened out.

We had a good summer until Lily took a turn for the worse.

We’d been dealing with canine cognitive dysfunction for over a year and with, I think degenerative myelopathy. She was a trooper and didn’t quit until she finally couldn’t stand on her own. It happened suddenly and we called the veterinarian to come that very day. She had a great 15.5 years, but it was still difficult to say goodbye to that sweet girl.

Two dogs in seven months.

That was tough. Especially knowing that Tango was up against severe osteoarthritis and two different types of cancer. Thank goodness Schooner was in good health.

Tango stayed steady into the fall.

He was on medication four times a day, was still getting massage and laser to help with the osteoarthritis, and seemed to be coasting along, with an occasional off-day (which I watched like a hawk). He was doing well enough that we felt comfortable enough to go on vacation and leave Tango and Schooner with a wonderful house sitter and a friend who took excellent care of both the dogs.

In mid-November, Schooner was lethargic and had a slight cough.

I thought he had the dog flu. I took him to the veterinary hospital hoping to get some antibiotics to help him feel better. Imagine my shock when I was told he had an arrhythmia and was given a referral to a cardiologist. The diagnosis dealt another blow: dilated cardiomyopathy.

The cardiologist wouldn’t give us a prognosis but said sudden death was possible.

We started an intense medication regimen for Schooner, hoping to buy some time.

In December, Tango started a slow, but steady decline.

yellow lab, Labrador, yellow labrador — The handsomest.

He was less able to maneuver through the house. I added a ramp so he could go outside more easily. I bought orthopedic beds. Still, he was moving less. His tail still wagged, but even that was becoming less frequent. One evening he didn’t want his dinner.

We said goodbye to Tango on December 13 at home.

Tango was my favorite, he was my business partner, and my best friend. I felt as if I’d been run over by a semi-truck.

We made it through Christmas with just Schooner.

To be honest, we started our holiday celebration early after Schooner’s diagnosis because we didn’t know how long we’d have him. The medication seemed to be making Schooner feel normal again. And, like Tango, we dropped into a steady “new normal” routine.

Things seemed to be going so well, I had let myself forget that he had a fatal heart diagnosis.

I had to travel to ClickerExpo to present some talks and we didn’t want Schooner home alone during the day for so many hours, plus he needed mid-day medication. On January 16, I took Schoons to my parent’s place on Lake Anna and came home the next day to fly out to California.

As I was boarding the plane, I got a call from my dad telling me Schooner had just collapsed.

I didn’t know it then, but Schooner died immediately. And there I was, boarding a flight that would take me 3,000 miles away for the next eight days. It was, without a doubt, one of the worst days of my life. Helpless, lost, heartbroken, numb — all those words described my state of mind.

I plan to write something special for both Tango and for Schooner.

In fact, I finally felt ready to write about Tango and had planned to write on the long flight to California. As circumstances were, I had two glasses of wine and concentrated on not collapsing in a heap on the plane.

I strongly believe Tango and Schooner need a tribute.

And I’ll get to those later this week.

Our New Normal

November 10, 2017

Our New Normal

Almost a year ago, our apple cart was upset twice in one month. We lost our Nemo and then Tango had emergency surgery when a somewhat-routine ultrasound showed an unhealthy spleen. After that surgery, he had a rough recovery and we spent a lot of time at the veterinary hospital for one setback or another.

When Tango first returned home from the splenectomy, he spent most of his time in our family room, sleeping either in his recliner or on one of our cushiest dog beds.

I spent many nights on the couch with him to make sure I could help him if he was restless, in pain, or needed to go outside. I can sleep anywhere — and sleep soundly, so it wasn’t an inconvenience for me at all. Schooner, who sleeps in bed with me, though, found it a bit odd, I think, that we were sleeping on the couch. (He, too, sleeps on the couch with me, which is turning out to be quite the fortunate happenstance now that it’s getting cold. It’s like having my very own, customized electric blanket and who doesn’t complain when I shove my cold feet under him.)

Tango’s always been an early riser, he tends to get up with the sun, but ever since the surgery, he’s been a more frequent and earlier riser.

It took me awhile to figure out that sometimes he didn’t need to go outside, he just wanted to sleep in the family room. After he’d refuse to go outside, I’d head back to bed only to be greeted by him at my bedside minutes later. He seemed restless, so I would almost always head back out to the couch with him, where he’d fall quickly (and soundly) asleep and stay there until after the sun came up.

That quickly became our routine — he’d wake me at some middle-of-the-night hour, I’d grab my pillow and a blanket, and my husband would find the entire household asleep in the family room when he’d get up for work.

The family room isn’t just Tango’s favorite at night. It’s also his favorite daytime spot, as well. I have a nice office in the house with a beautiful iMac that faces the atrium door so I can watch the birds at the feeder. But because Tango has been most comfortable in that recliner, and because he’d continually come out to my office to check on me, I found myself working on my laptop on that same couch where I’d slept the night before.

Schooner, of course, is wherever I am, too, so now there are the three of us, in the family room with me huddled up on the couch getting all my work done. It’s where I’m writing this right now!

At first, I missed working in my office.

But I now find the family room comfortable for both sleeping and working. I have a sleep app on my iPhone and, as crazy as it sounds, according to the app, I get more restful and deeper sleep on the couch than in my bed!

It’s interesting how quickly we adapt to new habits, particularly when it’s clearly beneficial (or at least, preferred) to those we love. Truth be told, I’ll miss all this when I move back to my office.

Celebratory Beer for Lunch

June 30, 2017

Celebratory Beer for Lunch

I’m sitting at my desk, drinking a beer (Sam Adams, for my beer friends), and staring a long four-day weekend right in the face.

I don’t usually drink beer for lunch. In fact, I don’t usually drink alcohol during the week at all.

Today is different.

Today is special.

Today Tango got another “all clear.”

About six months ago, I took Tango to the vet for a routine exam because he was drinking a lot of water.

That led to blood work and a urinalysis. Which led to “things are a little off, let’s rule out lymphoma.” Gulp. But the chest x-rays looked great (yay!). All we had to do was get an a-ok on the abdominal ultrasound. That didn’t happen.

In fact, the day of the ultrasound was the day Tango had his spleen (and the nasty growth) removed.

It was an ugly couple of weeks with a roller coaster recovery. Those weeks involved lots of visits back to the veterinarian and even an overnight stay at the emergency veterinary hospital and more than a couple of crying jags for me. It took almost two more months (and what seemed like a million tests) to get the final results: not one, but two (two-two-treats-in-one) forms of cancer.

It looks like we took care of one of the cancers (sarcoma) when the spleen was removed.

The other type (lymphoma) might or might not still be hanging around. Even if it’s there, it might never cause him any trouble. Apparently, some dogs can have it, but never be bothered by it.

So now, Tango needs blood work, an abdominal ultrasound, and chest x-rays every three months to make sure the cancer isn’t back.

yellow Lab, cancer, Smart Dog, Frederick, dog training, Mt. Airy, clicker — Tango’s “worried” face

A couple of weeks prior to the appointment, I start worrying. Is that cough new? Is he more lethargic now? Does he seem like he’s uncomfortable?

I’m not a worrier normally.

I firmly believe that time spent worrying is time wasted. Worry just takes away from the good times I could be having with Tango. And I stick to that fairly well until it’s time for The Tests. Then I look a little too deeply into every move, every breath, every flinch.

Thankfully, today at least, our news is good.

We’re six months out from the initial surgery and we’re still in the clear.

So, of course, that meant a beer for lunch.

Tango Update: Cancer, Cancer

March 22, 2017

It’s been a little crazy around here the last few months with all the cancer talk.

I’m getting tired of writing that, actually. Too much crazy, too much roller coaster. We need some boring around here. Some seriously boring boredom.

Back in January, Tango had an ultrasound due to some abnormal blood results.

(People, heed my warning: do the blood work — just do it. This probably saved Tango’s life.) His globulin numbers were up which can be an indication of cancer. We had done a chest x-ray earlier and that was clear, so I really thought the ultrasound was just a precaution.

yellow Labrador, lab, yellow lab, splenectomy, — Tango recovers from a splenectomy

Hahahaha, no. Tango underwent surgery that day to remove his spleen and it’s gigantic growth.

The thing was sent away for biopsy and that set off a six week mystery that has just recently been solved. Initially, one type of cancer was found. But then a second opinion found a different type of cancer. So more tests (i.e. more $$) and more reviews by a panel of 25 pathologists.

Still disagreements between “the authorities” about which of the two different cancers Tango had.

Finally, all of Tango’s medical records were sent to a cancer genius in California at UC Davis. Even he wanted to run more tests! Clearly, this was a complicated case.

Some six weeks later, the final results were in and we headed to the oncologist in Leesburg, VA, for our consult. We have an answer at last!

Tango has two different types of cancer. That’s the reason for all the disagreements — both conclusions were correct. He has lymphoma and sarcoma. That’s definitely not the result I’d been hoping for.

canine cancer, oncology, sarcoma, lymphoma, yellow Labrador, yellow lab, dog training, — Tango meets the oncologist.

Here’s the good news.

Both of the cancers have been classified as “low-grade.” I’m not a veterinarian, all I know is that we’re celebrating this “low grade” classification. Low grade means no chemo! Low grade means no treatment! Low grade means we monitor and watch and test.

Every three months, Tango has to have an ultrasound to make sure there’s nothing growing in his belly. Every 6 months he has to have chest x-rays and blood work. Expensive? Yes. Invasive? No way. And that’s the most important part.

We are getting back to normal here now.

Notice I didn’t say “we’re back to normal.” I’m still guarded, not willing to believe yet that we’re out of the woods. You don’t worry yourself silly for six weeks and then <poof> it’s all gone instantly with “good news.” I watch Tango like a hawk. Is he panting? Why is he panting? Is he drinking more water? Is he sleeping more than usual? Has he lost the pep in his step? It’s constant surveying and cataloging, and monitoring. I think he’s growing weary of me. Because I also kiss him nonstop as well. It’s the price you pay when you have a crazy, over zealous, protective owner like me.

I have a couple of short out-of-town work trips coming up that I was stressing out about.

I didn’t want to leave for more than a couple of hours if he had to start chemotherapy or any other kind of treatment. The oncologist has assured me that he’ll be fine for these two trips (the two trips will be over in a couple weeks). Right now, he’s sacked out in his chair, just like normal. Everything has been fairly normal, so I’m going to hope that it’ll stay boring and normal. Normal and boring. Ahh, that sounds divine.

I’ll still worry.

It’s what I do. But at least I know that it’ll be worry for worry’s sake, not worry for a real reason.

When Last We Met…

February 9, 2017

When last we met, Tango had urgent surgery to remove his spleen and an unwelcome growth on said spleen.

Since then, we’ve had very few “up” days and a whole lotta “down” days, including a panicked trip (a week ago now!) to my regular vet and a trip later that same evening to the emergency veterinarian where I had to <gasp> leave Tango for the night.

Tango has been diagnosed with cancer, but the pathology results confound the pathologists and oncologists.

Originally, there were three contenders for the type of cancer — all round cell cancers (don’t ask me what that means, it’s just something I heard the veterinarians say). Which meant, I think, that we’d treat the cancer the same way, but that the prognosis could be vastly different depending on which round cell cancer.

We ordered special stains that would identify which of those three possibilities Tango really had.

It takes 10 unimaginably long days to get results. The results added three new potential diagnoses to the mix. So now, 25 pathologists from the laboratory will meet at the end of the week and review Tango’s case. The oncologist said that some of the new possibilities are less scary than the ones already in the mix, so keep your fingers crossed for the least scary of the bunch.

About a week ago, Tango developed an incision-site infection.

yellow Labrador, yellow Lab, cancer — Waiting together at the veterinary office.

He had a fever and was trembling uncontrollably which is how we ended up panicked at my veterinarian’s office. At the time, I didn’t know it was “just” an infection, I was worried it might be cancer-related. I was certain this was it for him, he was so miserable and I hated seeing him that way.

I spent the better part of the day at my regular veterinarian (who fit me in, mercifully) getting Tango’s fever under control and making him comfortable.

When we left the office at about 2:30p, Tango was looking better. I wasn’t worried at all when I had to leave him just a couple hours later to teach back-to-back good manners dog training classes.

Imagine my shock when my husband called me during class (which never happens) and said urgently “Where do I take this dog – we need an emergency vet. Now.” Tango had begun trembling again, was unable to lift his head, and was leaking all kinds of fluid from the incision site (serous fluid, I later learned — what an education I’m getting!).

I really do have the best clients in the world.

They were understanding, even encouraging me to stop class and get my husband the information he needed. Which I did. Which also involved a couple of extra calls to my veterinarian for some in-the-moment advice. Through it all, they were the best — supportive and understanding.

To make a long story short, my husband met me at my class location (which had since finished) and together we took Tango to an emergency veterinary hospital.

Tango had to stay the night <gasp!>. It was the first time I ever had to leave him behind. It was horrible on both of us. I was able to pick him up the next day and things started to get back to normal.

A week later (fingers crossed!) and we’re returning to somewhat normal around here.

yellow Labrador, yellow lab, cancer, Kong — Any day that involves a Kong is a good day!

Tango is again waking me up in the morning (too early!). He’s eating Kongs. He’s wagging his tail. He’s going out to meet my husband at the gate when he hears him come in the driveway. It’s the little things.

We have a meeting with the oncologist on Monday to see what the passel of pathologists have come up with regarding Tango’s cancer. And we’ll move forward from there. Who’d have ever thought I’d be happy to move forward with the “normal stuff” like cancer treatment. It’s all perspective, I guess.

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Tango

Tango C. Mango

Early training

He and me

Us

Then, I took Tango to the veterinary hospital for drinking too much water and we wound up with same-day splenectomy surgery and an eventual two-cancer diagnosis.

We had a good summer until Lily took a turn for the worse.

Two dogs in seven months.

Tango stayed steady into the fall.

In mid-November, Schooner was lethargic and had a slight cough.

The cardiologist wouldn’t give us a prognosis but said sudden death was possible.

In December, Tango started a slow, but steady decline.

We said goodbye to Tango on December 13 at home.

We made it through Christmas with just Schooner.

Things seemed to be going so well, I had let myself forget that he had a fatal heart diagnosis.

As I was boarding the plane, I got a call from my dad telling me Schooner had just collapsed.

I plan to write something special for both Tango and for Schooner.

I strongly believe Tango and Schooner need a tribute.

Our New Normal

When Tango first returned home from the splenectomy, he spent most of his time in our family room, sleeping either in his recliner or on one of our cushiest dog beds.

Tango’s always been an early riser, he tends to get up with the sun, but ever since the surgery, he’s been a more frequent and earlier riser.

That quickly became our routine — he’d wake me at some middle-of-the-night hour, I’d grab my pillow and a blanket, and my husband would find the entire household asleep in the family room when he’d get up for work.

At first, I missed working in my office.

Celebratory Beer for Lunch

I’m sitting at my desk, drinking a beer (Sam Adams, for my beer friends), and staring a long four-day weekend right in the face.

Today is special.

About six months ago, I took Tango to the vet for a routine exam because he was drinking a lot of water.

In fact, the day of the ultrasound was the day Tango had his spleen (and the nasty growth) removed.

It looks like we took care of one of the cancers (sarcoma) when the spleen was removed.

So now, Tango needs blood work, an abdominal ultrasound, and chest x-rays every three months to make sure the cancer isn’t back.

I’m not a worrier normally.

Thankfully, today at least, our news is good.

So, of course, that meant a beer for lunch.

It’s been a little crazy around here the last few months with all the cancer talk.

Back in January, Tango had an ultrasound due to some abnormal blood results.

Still disagreements between “the authorities” about which of the two different cancers Tango had.

Some six weeks later, the final results were in and we headed to the oncologist in Leesburg, VA, for our consult. We have an answer at last!

Here’s the good news.

We are getting back to normal here now.

I’ll still worry.

When last we met, Tango had urgent surgery to remove his spleen and an unwelcome growth on said spleen.

Tango has been diagnosed with cancer, but the pathology results confound the pathologists and oncologists.

We ordered special stains that would identify which of those three possibilities Tango really had.

About a week ago, Tango developed an incision-site infection.

I spent the better part of the day at my regular veterinarian (who fit me in, mercifully) getting Tango’s fever under control and making him comfortable.

I really do have the best clients in the world.

To make a long story short, my husband met me at my class location (which had since finished) and together we took Tango to an emergency veterinary hospital.

A week later (fingers crossed!) and we’re returning to somewhat normal around here.

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