We Will Be Missing Maxine

       

No pictures were ever taken of Maxine, but this is probably what she looked like when she was younger.

 


                 When unscrupulous hunters find they have dogs who have aged out of usefulness, or are ill, or aren't great hunters, they drive them out to the country, remove their collars, and abandon them. A friend of ours who lives nearby has witnessed this more than once.  Two of them found their way here to the farm this year.  Some years, we return fifty hunting dogs to those who tag or microchip them. Very occasionally, when we are unable to find the former owner of a dog after advertising the picture, we keep them. This has happened about four times in twenty years. Two of them came to us within the past year.
             One of these dogs we named Maxine.  Our son James spied her one evening this Winter on our property, terribly thin, cold and hungry. We had tried to catch her before, but she had been leery of human beings. James placed her in the isolation kennel room and visited her often.  We can't adopt too many of these abandoned dogs because we have our own dogs and as they age, their veterinary expenses can be quite expensive.  A new elderly dog can be quite an expense. Since we have no proof of their rabies status, we will need to get them a rabies shot, and in one year, it must be repeated. It will be every three years thereafter. Although I do all the shots on the farm, rabies shots on dogs and cats in our state must be done by a veterinarian. They also will need a heartworm test and then heartworm preventive. A starving dog can't be given large amounts of food initially. They have to be carefully fed, often with a more expensive product until their stomachs can tolerate food, and then over time, they may be able to be advanced to a more typical food. When she is well enough, they receive an annual distemper, hepatitis, leptospirosis, parainfluenza, parvovirus and coronavirus vaccine.  Maxine was an extremely elderly hound. Every one of her teeth was broken or in poor condition. The vet thought she was extremely old and that she probably had been abandoned after the last hunting season. She had also never been spayed.  No one claimed her.
            We decided that we would take care of Maxine, and that she could live the rest of her days here with us on the farm. She was particularly fond of the other hunting dog here.  At first we started with a chicken and rice dog food which she loved. Over time, she was advanced to a grain free dry food which had small pieces. We also added a wet food to it.  It didn't take long before she adored us. The elderly dog would jump like a puppy !  Despite the fact that the vet thought she was living on borrowed time, and likely had some organ damage from protracted starvation, I genuinely thought she had about the better part of a year. She had been through so much, and now finally had a family who loved her, and a group of dogs where she belonged.
            Several days ago, Maxine seemed quiet. She didn't eat as well as she did normally. She was drinking well and urinating quite a bit. She is a very old dog, I told myself. This afternoon, she had a seizure, and then lay quietly in her kennel room. Our other dogs were quite upset.
             At five, when I checked her again, she began another grand mal seizure. I wondered why I always lost dogs on a weekend.  I surmised that she was in renal failure, and that her fluid and electrolyte imbalance was the cause of her seizures. I hoped this wouldn't go on long.  We stayed with her, stroking her and speaking to her softly in between seizures. We were careful to avoid being accidentally bitten.  Then I began to cry, and I put my hands together,

                            Heavenly Father,
                          Thank you for bringing this sweet animal to us.
                          I am sorry that more of her life was not spent here with us.
                          Lord, please don't let her suffer like this.
                          She has lived a long life and she deserves to go Home, quickly and safely.
                          Lord, you know I can euthanize her if I have to, but I don't want to do that.
                          (I was referring to the fact that even loving farmers will end a beloved animals    suffering with a bullet if need be, and I would have, had this gone on too long.)
                            Please call her Home Lord. I know that we will see her again.
                            In Jesus name we pray, Amen.

       My husband said Amen.

                And then, Maxine took one last breath, let it out, and died.

 I looked at my husband and said,  "That's the fastest that the Lord has ever answered any one of my prayers."      Then we both cried.

                  Maxine's body has been wrapped and will be buried on the farm tomorrow.

  Her soul soars back to the loving God who made her and shared her with us, and who called her home, just after five in the afternoon today.

Hot Reggae: We Will Meet Again One Day

                           Hot Reggae is an alpaca who was born in 1994 in the Pacific Northwest. He was the cria of an alpaca who was owned and bred by two vets in a very large operation.  By the time of his birth he was owned by a dentist and his wife who also lived in the Pacific Northwest.  Hot Reggae accompanied two other alpacas we purchased from them in March of 2000.  Hot Reggae made the long trip from the Pacific Northwest to Virginia in the air conditioned horse trailer that people in the alpaca trade call "The Alpaca Train".  He arrived to us with Mr. Ditto Two and Noche Buena.  Hot Reggae was a gelded male, but he had a very important job within the herd. He was the lookout, the security officer and the alpaca policeman, not only when the herd consisted only of three, but later when others were born, or added through additional purchases.
                          Alpacas are very much herd animals. The herd is a family to them, and when one dies, there is a grieving period. They are more loving and more empathetic than most realize. While protecting the herd and notifying us of marauding dogs and coyotes, he also grieved and supported grieving when Shakria, our first cria died when just a few days old.  He also supported the herd when Shakria's mother eventually died of astrocytoma.  He oversaw and participated in alpaca soccer tournaments until the farm vet put a stop to the practice saying that it could lead to a potentially fatal broken leg. Then, he became part of the tetherball alpaca league.  He also dutifully listened as our children learned to play a variety of musical instruments. The Irish whistle and the uileann pipes are the two I remember that he seemed to enjoy best. I also remember his placing his chin on my shoulder as I sat on the stump within the alpaca pen and cried when I heard that my aunt had died.

                        In 2004, we moved all of the alpacas to a new farm we built where they would have much better accommodations.  Hot Reggae never seemed all that impressed.  All he ever really seemed to need was his herd, some green grass, some good hay in winter, a handful of Mazuri pelleted alpaca feed per day, and lots of fresh water.  He tolerated shearing as if he understood. We never really needed to trim his nails much because he used to file them down himself on a sharp rock in the pen. He seemed to stop, as if it were a secret, each time he realized that we were watching.

                          Alpacas have a stated lifespan of about fifteen years, however in captivity and with good care, some individuals have lived much longer. As they have aged, we have developed additional habits which have kept them healthy and living longer.  Normally, We add zinc to their feed.  We continue injections to prevent meningeal worm. They receive an annual rabies and CDT shot.  With age, we give occasional thiamine and vitamin A,C, and D, shots.  We drop selenium tablets in their pellets

                           In the past year, we knew that Reggae, as well as his dear friend Mr. Ditto II, were failing. Neither were moving particularly well. Hot Reggae seemed to have a stiff neck. Their tolerance for heat was also not what it once had been. We made sure they had extra water and we added fans suspended to the rafters from their now shared concrete floored barn room.  When the weather was hotter than 90 degrees F, then we would spray them down with cool water particularly on the legs and underbelly which is where they dissipate heat.

                            At the end of July, both Mr. Ditto Two and Hot Reggae were illl.  Both seemed to have pneumonia to me. I treated both with an appropriate dose of Tylosin intramuscularly over several days. I also gave multiple injections of thiamine.  Hot Reggae rallied and seemed to recover.  Ditto died peacefully at the end of July, this year, at age 20.

                              We knew that Hot Reggae, though he appeared completely recovered, was living on borrowed time. He was now 22 years old !  He simply appeared not to want to leave his herd, and the human family who had loved him for all this time, right on top of Ditto's loss.  So he hung in there with us.
This morning, he seemed congested again.  I gave another injection of Tylosin. He drank some water and ate all the pelleted grain in his dish. Then, he grazed in his pen with his nephew, Chocolat, while I moved four horses out to graze.  He appeared all right, and yet I knew that we wouldn't have much longer together.

                               When I returned from lunch to top up waters and to check on him, he had passed quite recently. He was lying in the stall on his side under the fans on the cool concrete floor, his eyes still open.  I imagine that it had been just moments ago because as I wrapped him for burial, rigor mortis had not yet set in.

                                Today, Reggae joins a herd of alpacas who were all loved here. It is my hope that Daniel will look after them until we get there to, once again, help with the task.  It has been my honor and privilege to know you and to care for you while you were here, Reggae.  I will do my best to ensure health and safety for the remaining herd.  And of course you know, you will be sorely missed.  We will meet again, my friend.
                           

A kind and gentle animal who was always the protector and the "police officer" of the herd.

Thank You, Lonnie

Lonnie, as I will remember him.

                            Lonnie joined our established alpaca herd in 2000 from the Pacific Northwest.  We had planned to continue breeding animals, but Lonnie came to us in a time in which we had decided to shift and focus more on our family and taking great care of our family and of the animals we had, and spending less time, worry and stress over breeding them.   We paid to have Lonnie transported in comfort from the West Coast in an air conditioned alpaca transport vehicle with an expert transporter, and he arrived here having shared space with some of the most famous and valuable alpacas of the time.   He was a young animal and was somewhat docile and shy at that time.

                          Most of our animals are dark colors and so it was especially interesting for us to add a dark eyed all white huacaya alpaca.  Lonnie continued to be shy and was a favorite of our son Daniel.

Somehow, Lonnie managed to get a bucket around his neck !

                                  If one of the alpacas from our herd was a comedian, then I think Lonnie would be that one.   Somehow, he managed one summer to unhook a bucket and get it stuck around his neck !   Fortunately, alpacas are much thinner than their fiber would seem to indicate, and so the bucket handle lifted off Lonnie's head fairly easily.

                                 Once we knew what a wonderful gentle alpaca Lonnie was, we had planned to breed him at least once.  However, the original seller had altered the paperwork from male to non-breeder without telling us, and therefore this was not a possibility.  I had even considered breeding him for a pet quality companion, but sadly, we never did that either.

                                  When our son Daniel died at 12 1/2, we became even more serious about taking good care of the animals he'd loved so much.  We spent much more time with the alpacas, and with Lonnie in particular.

                                   Lonnie was 16 this year.   Although many books on alpacas consider a full life expectancy to be 15, Lonnie actually has herdmates who are 21 and 19.   If they are cared for carefully, then the possibility exists for some individuals to make it to an advanced age indeed and to live a comfortable life while doing so.  We had hoped the same for Lonnie.

                                   This week, after a short gastrointestinal illness and consultations with vets and more interventions than I think I should have made, Lonnie passed.    I had checked him at 3 am, and made sure he was comfortable, and at five when I checked again, he had recently passed.

Lonnie, in the last twelve hours of his life.

                                It is never easy to lose a friend of 16 years who meant so much to his herd and to our family as well.  Thank you Lonnie for coming to our farm and being our friend.  We will take care of your remaining family as best we can.    We'll see you again.