5 Pounds Freer

Exhibit A: The destroyed hot dog bun bag.

When Brad came home this afternoon Indi did not get up and greet him like she usually does. She wagged her tail and wanted belly rubs, but she would not leave her bed. Brad thought that was strange because when he walked in the door two hours earlier she was totally amped to see him.

He got worried, wondering what could have gone wrong in such a short amount of time. Then he saw it. May the reader please see Exhibit A: The destroyed, empty, hot dog bun bag, lying on the floor next to Indi’s bed, right by the kitchen table.

Exibit B: The new home of the hot dog buns.

May the reader now please see Exhibit B: The dog belly full of six Franz hot dog buns. Brad texted me to tell me what happened. I said don’t leave her, I’ll be home soon. By the time I got home forty five minutes later she was fine. She had a hefty belly ache for an hour, but thankfully it passed.

Indi’s new diet is basically the Atkins diet: meat, veggies, dairy. And she is hungry! She begs more. She scrounges at the park. She drooled at the feet of the painter eating a corn dog in our parking garage when I took her out with me to empty the trash. Even though it was recomended by my vet to put her on a grain free diet, I started giving her brown rice this week. I feel good about that decision, and I know Indi does, too.

Indi sleeps. Brad works.

I have not written in a while, but I have a good excuse. We moved. It all happened so fast– where do I begin?!

Long story short (long, long, long story) our land lady gave us 30 days notice to move out of our house because she is putting it on the market. Then she had the house power washed and a DHS sign appeared in the front yard that read, “WARNING: Lead based paint work in progress. KEEP OUT”. To that I said, we are out of here. Two weeks later, here we are on the west side of Portland living in an art gallery with Brad. That’s right. An art gallery. With Brad.

Our new neighborhood, called Old Town, is very different from our old one, Irvington. Irvington was quiet and residential with tree lined streets, a big park, and houses built in the early 1900s. Our building in Old Town is right on the boarder of the fancy expensive arts district (The Pearl), the downtown business district, and the strip joint- homeless shelter- crack dealer district.

I keep my distance from the drug dealers, needles to say, but I don’t  mind the homeless people. They all love Indi. Just on our walk today one guy said, “She gets around just fine, doesn’t she.”  Another guy said, “You should tell people she lost her leg in a logging accident!” He went on to tell me that is what a buddy of his used to say about his tripawd. It was actually pretty funny.  And another crew that hangs out in the park says, “Hey, there she is!” every time Indi hops by. Indi pretty much ignores all of them.

The biggest challenge about the art studio is the stairs. Downstairs is the art gallery and kitchen, and the loft above is where the bedroom is. Indi can take the stairs just fine, but I want to limit the ups and downs for long term joint health. So far we are working on going  up at bed time and coming down in the morning, and that’s it. She really is doing so well, but I still worry. My days are consumed with keeping her safe and happy.

A tired dog is a happy dog

Last weekend we all got outa Dodge and went to stay at Megan and Adam’s house in Hood River. They were actually in Tahoe for Megan’s 30th brithday, but Callie was there. (We regretfully had to bow out of the Tahoe trip because of Indi’s surgery.)

Brad and I took the dogs to the field down the street and they played and played. I was keeping a close eye on Indi as she hopped through the tall grasses, ready to lend a hand if she got wobbly. But she didn’t need me at all. When Callie bounded off after a critter, Indi took off right behind her. When we got to the little creek with the plank bridge, Indi hopped across it like it was nothing– after stopping to eat some grass, of course.

Indi taught Callie to eat grass

The dogs got to play in the field and the people got to play downtown. Saturday night Brad and I went out to sushi — fresh Oregon Albacore sashimi! Then we went to a cozy bistro for dessert– chocolate espresso tort, Fonseca port and manhattans. Yum.

Indi’s leg weighed 5 pounds. Our surgeon, Dr. Simpson, said it was the largest dog leg she has ever….well, you know (gulp!). On Tuesday, August 31, 2010 Indi went in for surgery weighing 95 pounds. She left the next day weighing 90. At first Dr Simpson didn’t believe it and asked the tech to weigh her again. Indi hopped onto the scale and we all saw it: 90 pounds.

Welcome to 5 Pounds Freer. In the coming posts you will witness how Indi, the 8 year old Saint Bernard diagnosed with osteosarcoma, navigates the world on three legs. And how I, a 30 year old Portlander, learn how to care for the love of my life.