Many of our longtime readers will know that soft-coated wheaten terriers have been part of my life for about 20 years. Many will know of my late Sadie from stories of her and from the cover photo on my first book, Chef Interrupted. We later added Maggie to the pack and rescued another, Mona, when her owner passed away.
They have filled our home and hearts with the joy of the “puppy-for-life” spirit that is a wheaten terrier.
Some will recall an entry entitled Good Days and Bad Days Writ Large, in my latest book, Living Well With Multiple Sclerosis, in which I told of the passing of Sadie. I have yet to bring myself to write of the sad fortnight last summer when we lost both Maggie and Mona within 11 days of each other. Maybe someday, but not today.
A couple of weeks ago, however, we drove four hours (and six hours back because of a very carsick passenger) to collect a 10-month-old puppy from the breeder in County Kildare who has bred all our girls. Now that she’s home, we’re all getting used to one another, and the house is so much fuller of life than it has been for these past eight months.
Puppydom vs. Multiple Sclerosis
As I’ve adjusted to our new arrival, I’ve come to realize that our Aurélia (“Arie” for short) lives a life not unlike my life with multiple sclerosis (MS). For now, anyway, we experience many of the same things.
Sleep
Sleep is an important part of both Arie’s and my days and nights. It just doesn’t come in predictable chunks. Exhausted flops in the middle of a task may be called for, and the silliest of things can keep us awake for hours when the rest of the world experiences restorative slumber.
Bladder Control
Our bladders aren’t always “socially appropriate.” Wheatens are notoriously slow in house-training, and even though Arie is 10 months old she, like me, can become surprised by urgency. And like her, I encounter the occasional accident. Her bladder control will, of course, get better as time goes on. Mine, not so much …
Walks
Walkies are important, but at this stage, on-leash training is not particularly easy. I know I need to get out. I know she needs to get out. We both want to take our daily walkies. But after several months of no dogs to walk and some difficult non-MS health issues that made it first impossible then difficult to get in my steps, we’re alike in needing some time to find our stride, so to speak.
Attention Span
Our attention spans for tasks at hand — hers for training, mine for just about anything — are as short as, well … a puppy’s. My mental acuity has slipped in the past months, and I sometimes wonder if my focus being diverted to and by just about anything I’m not required to be doing isn’t the same as when just about any sound (or smell, or sight) will send her away from whatever she … Wait, what was I talking about?
Quiet Time
Absolutely everything in our home and garden and the surrounding area is new to Arie. Her senses can become overwhelmed just like mine can if I’m trying to focus in a sensorially overloaded environment. My wife, Caryn, is a behavioral therapist and knows when Arie needs a bit of time in her den to just chill. Perhaps I should learn this lesson and chill in my study when the world and my MS seem to collide.
Clumsiness
With her feet just a little too big for her body and my recurring bouts of drop foot, you’d think we had our shoes on the wrong feet as we try to make it though our games of fetch (at this point in her life, that means I throw the ball, she chases it, then I chase her to get it back). We’re quite the clumsy pair, so we are.
Diet
Diet is an important factor in overall health, but no one diet works for everyone. The food I made for Maggie was different from what I made for Sadie. Mona had different preferences from either of them. Finding what food works for Arie is taking time, just like finding what works for me and my MS took time. And what works now may change over time for different reasons as well.
Joy and Wonder
Finding joy in, well, everything! There is nothing quite like a new puppy to remind you that the world is full of wonderful things everywhere you look (or sniff). We celebrate the small victories like learning a new command or finishing a physical or mental task as if someone’s won a gold medal or something. Joy and happiness are not tied to the size of the victory when you’re a puppy — or when you live with multiple sclerosis.
Wishing you and your family the best of health.
Cheers,
Trevis
