Gracie Helen, Meet The World

So, though my memory strains through the days like a sieve on crack, I have managed to remember a rather significant development at the end of 2012 . . . probably because it's presently peeing on my tiled kitchen floor and waking me up several times a night.  Yes.  The woman who has tried to downsize her life in an attempt to spend more time at her desk added a -- you guessed it -- urinating baby robot!

No.  Not really.  That's ridiculous.  Well, almost ridiculous.  I could turn a robot off.  What I have, what's crashed hard on a folded green blanket against the kitchen wall near the pantry door, has NO on/off switch.  It plays passionately; eats ravenously; and sleeps like a fluffy rock.  Need a hint?  Here goes.

It's NOT a car accessory . . . 

It's NOT an arctic fox . . . 

It's NOT a cross-eyed piglet . . . 

It's a PUPPY!!!


A very SPECIAL puppy.

Yes, I realize that all of us dog lovers believe that our pooches are special much the way parents, of which I am also one, believe their kids are the cutest, prettiest, the most '-est' in EVERYTHING.  I mean, after nine-months of gestation, and the bills to show for delivery, we HAVE to believe that just to get our money's worth and account for the stretch marks!

But this oddly adorable ball of lamb's-wool fur IS special.  In two major ways.  One: she is the firstborn of of ten pups born to my little sister's dog, Bella.  Via FaceTime, I watched as this white piglet of a pup oozed its way into my sister's hands.  I cried as my sister rubbed and cooed life into the wee white-and-pink piglet, thinking of a great many heartbreaking and heartwarming things in those minutes.  Later, my son would watch with me as other pups were delivered.  I could see how his boy-man face softened as he took in all of that puppy cuteness.  And I began to cave without fully identifying what I said next as such behavior, "Wouldn't it be neat if we could take that firstborn female and raise her with Hank?  We could name her Gracie in memory of Grace.  You could help train her; she could be your dog; ride in the truck with you in the summer.  But we can't.  I promised dad.  NO MORE DOGS!  And our lives are busy.  They're expensive . . . "      But the seed had already been planted.  In both of us.  Before two days had passed, I was convinced that Hank needed a friend, my son needed his own dog and a tie to his sweet cousin, and it wouldn't be that much of a drain on my time.  

Yeah-h--h--h--h-h-h-h . . . 

I did talk my softhearted husband into taking on the puppy.  He was getting into his car, on the way to work, when I ran out and made my presentation, apologizing first and then rushing into my explanation of why our SON needed this animal to heal.  "You know," my honey sighed, only slightly exasperated, "Just tug on my heartstrings a li-i-ttle bit more and I'll probably say yes."

The plan was for Zachary to bring the pup home during his return trip from Colorado in December. Simple as that.  She'd be 8 weeks old and ready to leave her mama without any problem.  We'd train her with Hank.  My son even declared that HIS dog would be better trained and better behaved than MY dog.  "Fine with me," I laughed.

And then, in that super fantastic way that all of our pets seem to throw surprises into our laps, my sister called with bad news.  While advertising to find good homes for Bella's brood, she received an e-mail from an Aussie owner who'd read about the lineage of the puppies and had seen the photos of each baby.  Did my sister know that when two merle-patterned Aussie's breed, the white ones that are produced -- double merles as they are known -- are usually fully, or partially, deaf and/or blind?  My sister hadn't known that.  Neither had her vet or the owner who had sold her Ghillie, the father.  She felt sick.   "I never would have bred them had I known.  We thought they would make beautiful babies and then they could go to great owners!" She told me that she understood if Zachary and I wanted to back out of our plan.  No way! was my firm reply.  

My husband had different feelings, "What do you want with a deaf and blind dog?" he asked with frustration as he envisioned the difficult challenges and workload ahead.  And probably the possible vet bills for a special-needs pup.  It's no secret that our cats and Panda and Hank have cost us a bundle of bills over the years.  "Um-m, the SAME thing I wanted with a hearing and sighted dog!" was my heated reply.  It's still a dog.  People still raise them.  The Internet is full of videos and informative websites and blogs dedicated to training and caring for these special pets.  The animals don't know any difference.  They were born as they were born.  Breeders used to euthanize the 'defective' puppies back in the day.  Now, they are delightful additions to households where owners are willing to put in a little more work and love for limitless positive results and tons of affection from a precious little thing. 

With all of that said, I'd like to officially introduce you to to our newest family member:  Miss Gracie Helen.  Yes.  Helen with a nod to Helen Keller.  Laugh if you must!  I respect Helen Keller and all she gave to the world of the blind and hearing-impaired.  You could play a trombone in the same room as Gracie and she wouldn't even know it.  She's profoundly deaf.  Her eyes, as can be noted in the photographs, have their own problems though she can see for now.  Her pupils are 'dropped' and irregularly shaped, one in a 'starburst' pattern.  It seems that her peripheral vision is not as sharp as it could be and because her pupils are lower in her eye, she most often walks around with her head lowered, unless she's sitting and following me around the room with lifted eyes.  So, above her eyes the vision field is also affected.  Her vocalizations are the loudest of any dog I've owned.  They aren't maturing as Hank's have.  She can't hear herself.  Her tones and sounds are different if you listen with a discerning ear.  (If you've ever been around deaf people, like my brother's girlfriend who lives on the deaf ward at the Patton State Hospital in California, they are NOT quiet and their sounds are distinctive.  When they sign, they often emphasize with vocal enhancements.  The body is wired to produce sound if it can!)  

Deaf dogs also tend to play too rough as they aren't hearing the alerting sounds of pain and warning that their playmates give during wrestling.  Hank is a big tough dog; this is working in our favor though I often have to break them up because of Gracie!  Her training consists of signs, which dogs are great with anyway as body language plays hugely into their perspective on the world, and we will soon incorporate a vibration collar for more advanced training: like correcting how she plays with other dogs and children and teaching her to return to us when out of sight.  Last week, I ordered Doggles, which are goggles for dogs: her eyes are sensitive to the sun and require protection.  Doggles come in an array of sizes and colors.  Gracie's are pink.  For now.  Her sense of smell is highly acute.  She can be sound asleep and the scent of Hank's food in his dish as I bring it in from the garage will wake her instantly.  When my daughter breaks out the cat food on the kitchen island, Gracie goes ballistic trying to jump up and reach it.  She's also sensitive to vibration, including things like breezes when the back door opens and closes.

My sister kept Jax, Gracie's brother, and he has similar problems, though with a bit of hearing and worse vision.  She's training faster than am I, so I take her hints and notes and run with them!  Her fiance discovered that blinking outside lights on and off works to let deaf dogs know it's time to come in when it's dark outside.  It's really rather interesting and fun, learning the unique ways of raising such animals as this.  

Hank's happiness over having a playmate can't be adequately measured.  He's gentle with her.  Patient with her sharp nipping teeth.  Calm in the face of her strange squealing when she works herself into a lather.  I couldn't be prouder of his response to Gracie.  I had hoped for an instant bond, a quick liking, a protective packmate mentality.  And he has delivered in spades.  Though Gracie definitely sees me as her human love, I think it's safe to say that it's going to be the Hankie & Gracie Show from here on out.  And THAT makes this doggie mama very, very happy.  For both of them.  

Evidently, Aussies noses can start out pink, as Gracie's did, but the developing black pigment will eventually fill in the nose.  Some dogs halt in mid-cycle but thus far, Gracie's color has continued to encroach steadily upon the pink.  A similar situation is going on with her lips.  Fascinating!

Here's a link if you are interested in exploring the phenomenon of  White Aussies more deeply.

Deaf Dogs Rock is a fantastic website dedicated to the world of deaf dogs.  They have a Facebook page, too.  Check it out.  I'm impressed.  It's a great use of the web!