Simply Star

It only seems fair to do a blog entry on my sweet Star, lest any of you think that because we have a puppy, the older dog has been shoved aside, neglected and lonely. Nothing could be further from the truth - in fact, now that we’re a two-dog family, Star’s personality is blossoming.

Star was the first puppy I ever raised. What an eye-opening experience! Not only did I have the antics of a puppy to deal with, but it was a puppy that was half pit bull. A pit bull rescue group I contacted the day after I brought Star home advised me that after she was grown, Star could just snap at any time and go off on a rampage, possibly killing Tim or Winnie. I felt like I had just adopted a ticking time-bomb, and I came close to taking her back to the shelter. But, after a sleepless night spent crying over my new little bundle of fur, I decided that Star is a dog, not a killing machine. When I brought her into my home, I promised Star she would always have a home with me. I don’t make promises easily - because I don’t break my promises. Star was home to stay. I’ll admit it freely - I was really pretty tough on Star. I took her to endless obedience classes and I gave her no leeway when it came to behaving. (These days, knowing her as I do, I feel like I probably went overboard when it came to training her.)



Despite the ticking time bomb that may be buried deep inside her (and I’m rolling my eyes, here), Star has turned out to be one of the best dogs I’ve ever had the pleasure to share my life with. I’m not sure how to describe Star’s satiny brown/black hide, but once you start petting her, it’s hard to stop. She has thick, short fur, much softer than the coat of a pit bull - but it has none of the characteristics of a Lab’s fur.




When I adopted her, she had the razor sharp teeth of an alligator and the fat face of a little furry crocodile, but as she matured, her nose got longer, and most people now can only see the hint of the pit in her. Star was born with the serious, noble expression of a lab and the flubber-face of a pittie. She’s smart, too. But Star is aloof. You can hug her, but don’t expect her to always hug you back. When I took her to do pet therapy, she would make one round, greeting each resident, and then go lay in the middle of the floor, as if to say, “My job here is done.” That’s not exactly what one is looking for in a pet therapy dog, so when Winnie and Tim both got to the point where pet therapy was more of a chore than a pleasure for them, we just stopped.



Poor Star has had a lot to deal with in the past year. She saw Winnie decline due to lumbo-sacral stenosis, an extremely painful spinal condition, and then had to deal with the grief of losing Winnie, in June. In September, I brought JoLee home (and we all know how stressful a puppy can be). And Star watched as Tim’s health declined and is still dealing with the grief of losing him, in February. Winnie and Tim were her housemates. She knew them from the very beginning. They taught her everything about being a dog that she knows - and she loved them both dearly.





Sometime around the time JoLee came to live with us, Star started exhibiting intermittent soreness in her legs. I was at a loss to explain it; so was my vet. In the beginning, it seemed to be her front legs; then it presented as an all-over soreness; and then, later, I thought maybe she had pulled or torn a ligament in her knee and that the pain from that was radiating out or some such thing. I had her tested for tick borne diseases, which can cause inexplicable pain like that - the test results came back negative. When I asked the vet about the knee ligament, I was told to keep her as quiet as possible for eight weeks and we’d take things from there.

So now, in addition to all the rest, Star couldn’t go on long walks or hikes. Poor pup - it almost seemed as if she was being punished for some heinous past life deed, as if karma was coming back to bite her in the butt.

And then, Sunday night, on her way up to bed, Star fell down the stairs.

It was only a flight of three stairs, and they were carpeted stairs, but she was really slow to get up - both Harry and I had reached her by the time she regained her feet. After she gave herself a little shake, she managed to go back upstairs unassisted, but I was really worried about her.

The interesting thing about that fall is that now Star seems to be doing much better. It’s almost as if something in her body was out of alignment and now, since her tumble down the stairs, things are back where they belong. She’s still a little lame, but nothing like she was. And she just seems to be getting better. She’s playing with JoLee now, instead of just warning him off; and she’s begging for treats again. It’s so nice to have her acting like she’s a part of the family again!

If I can find one in this area, I think a visit to a canine chiropractor might be in order. Keep your fingers crossed, for Star and for me. I want my hiking buddy back!