Welcome To Middle-Age, Frax!

Welcome To Middle-age, Frax!

Welcome to middle age, Fraxie! That's right~ you are officially on a puppy diet! Frax looks at me with a miserable look on his face, and longingly gazes at our refrigerator. At least he has a lot of compassion in the house. Everyone of us is in middle-age, AND on a diet. Yay. Bummer.

Frax gets perks for eating much more fiber than either Bill or I. In an attempt to fill his cavernous stomach, we are filling his bowl with a can of either carrots or french green beans (he prefers the French ones). Then in goes the diet food, and a cup of warm water to make a gruel. It fills the entire dog bowl. Frax snarfs it down in seconds. It's no surprise that he has gas issues emanating from both ends. It takes a good 45 minutes for him to finally feel full, and take a short nap after eating...then he's ready for another eight hours of begging for food and treats. Of course, if we go out and work, then he gets treats. If I'm having one of my bad days where everything I hold in my hands winds up on the floor, he gets treats as well. (For picking up things for me all day.) There's a secret about his treats. They've always been low-cal. He doesn't care, just so long as he gets something. We feed him MBDB's. Milk Bone Dog Biscuits for tiny dogs. They are something like two calories for five of them.

Of course when we check out at the Grocery store, with the micro-snacks, and Frax, he always gets sympathy. At least now I can give them a reason. The MBDB's for tiny dogs gets rung up by the desk clerk. She notices there are four boxes. “He's middle-aged.”I say by way of explanation. “Ah...!” says the checkout person with a sympathetic shake to her head. “Bet he's eating diet dog food too, eh?” “Yup.” I reply with a sad shake of the head. “We're all on a diet in our house.” I smile. The checkout lady grins “Well, at least he has some company.” she says as she pats his silky head. Frax's middle age has snuck up on all of us. Dogs age at warp speed, that's the sad side of being friends with such a swell buddy. They don't get to stick around nearly as long as we would wish. Of course you could live with an elephant or a dolphin. They live as long as us, but their needs preclude living with the average human for any amount of time. The homeowners association might have a few things to say about either one of those. If you are into amphibians, there are some that live quite a long while. However, you can't take them with you to the park, and they refuse to play Frisbee, (although Frax refuses to retrieve. He's hopeless at ball or Frisbee). He likes to walk. A simple walk where he can say “hi” to the neighbors, maybe get a pat on the head...that's fun for him. Different strokes for different folks. I hoped for a dog diametrically different from Jet, because Jet broke my heart when he left me way too soon. I got a dog waaaaay different.

The majority of Canine Assistants dogs are medium-sized. Because that fits most folks, even kids. Jet was

medium-small. On his heaviest day he was 55lb dripping wet. His paws were delicate, his ears too. Frax was double Jet's size when we were teamed up. I've never been afraid of a big horse, or conversely, a dog as big as a small pony (Frax). At Canine Assistants the dogs pick their people, not the other way around. Frax picked me. Size didn't matter. The quality of his soul did.

And I'm forever in his debt.

Heart-broken after Jet's premature death, and nursing the second day of the flu, I sat on the floor at Canine Assistants. I figured it was better to meet the dogs on the floor than standing up. I was so weak legged from my MS response to the flu, I figured I would get knocked over easily. Might as well start out on the floor.

The first dog they brought out was a red-colored Golden Retriever. Go figure, it was one of Frax's brothers. His name escapes me. But he wasn't ready for prime-time. He played, but he was more interested in what other people around us were doing than in me. That wouldn't work out for a service dog. So back he went. As I recall, several members there tried to get his attention, but he just wasn't mentally mature enough to go out as a team with someone. Sometimes it's like that. Not every kid learns his math homework at the same rate. Not every service dog is ready at the same time.

Frax had been off campus for six weeks, taking private water-therapy with a volunteer at their home. Twelve weeks before he'd been playing with his cousins and siblings, running as hard as he could. Frax is long-legged and tall. He didn't pay attention to where his legs were. He got all tangled up in himself, tripped over his big feet. And broke his right leg. Poor baby! He was very brave and wore a cast for six weeks. Then he needed rehab. That's what he had been doing. You'd never know anything had happened. He walked in the training room, straight and tall. He had actually come back the night before, been examined by their veterinarian, Kent Bruner, who is also CEO Jennifer Arnold's husband. Frax was cleared to try to go out with his kennel age crew the next day. We know the rest of the story: he picked me.

I do believe that Frax is one of the two largest dogs that Canine Assistants has ever bred. It sure wasn't on purpose. The other legendary big dog that they bred was named Diesel. Diesel had a hard time figuring out who his person would be. Until he fell head over paws in love with a little woman in a wheelchair. He was a changed dog. He had a purpose. His mom.

Off they went into the world together. They challenged it. They conquered it. That's what a service dog does for their person. What Jet, and now Frax have done for me.

I owe my life several times over to both my dogs. I'm sure that our neighbors had become inured to seeing an ambulance with the firemen breaking down the doors to get to me fairly often. Thank goodness the seizures are less, and my stomach is better. Life with MS isn't easy. It's much easier with a good dog there to help. Sometimes it's just a big nuzzle and a snuggle on a bad day. Sometimes that's all that's needed.

Both Jet and now Frax gets me 'gifts' if he thinks my condition warrants it. Of course many times it's something snatched from the garbage ('cause who doesn't love garbage?). I've learned to praise a well-thought out gift of cheese wrapper, or burger container. Even when hubby is hollering “get out of the garbage!”, care is taken as to what is pilfered. Gotta love that!

So now Frax and I enter his middle age. I wish I could keep him young forever. But Jet is young forever, and he broke my heart. Perhaps young forever isn't all it's cracked up to be. Middle aged sounds fine. Just as aged will be when God-willing, Frax makes it there too.

.

We are in uncharted waters. But always together. And apparently, always on a diet.

Together.