I purchased Tia in the summer between my sophomore and junior year in vet
school. My older dog (a Doberman named "Rose") had health problems and was
no longer able to accompany me on long walks or bike rides. I needed the
exercise as a mental health break from the pressures of school but my schedule
was such that it was difficult to arrange to walk or bike with friends. I was not
very comfortable being out alone without a large dog along with me. So, I
needed another dog. The problem being that Rosie was old, grumpy and not
very dog social. So, I needed a large dog to walk at night with me but a
"submissive" dog that would never challenge Rose's place as Number 1. But, not
a dog that acted submissive to people, one that looked like something that could
guard a college co-ed. So, I put out the word among my vet school classmates in
the spring that I was looking for a large dog and explained what kind of
temperament profile I wanted. Sadly, it was soon apparent that none of my
classmates knew anything about temperament testing or the concept of
"matching pups to people" and I was rapidly frustrated by being met outside of
class by people with the "perfect" rescue dog that was SO obviously the wrong
match for Rose and me. So, it was with great skepticism that I agreed to go look
at a puppy offered to me by a freshman vet student named Robin.
The original story from Robin was that this fawn puppy was from "a small Great
Dane" and sired by "a retired police canine officer". I thought it odd that a
retired police canine would be allowed to sire a mixed breed litter and kept that
in mind. Supposedly, Robins' landlord had found out about the puppy and didn't
allow dogs, thus the need to place her. Robin did seem to know about puppy
testing and her description of the pup did sound promising, however, the plot
thickened rapidly. I arrived at Robins' and was greeted by her fairly angry
roommate, who didn't know where Robin was or when she would be home and
knew nothing about the dogs. Yes, dogs- there were 2 puppies in the yard,
neither of which matched the description of the pup I was there to see. They
were very believably Dane x Shepherd mixes, classic black and tans but huge,
coarse, blockheaded and ugly. Also very independent and "dominant"
personalities. Absolutely NOT what I wanted. More plot developed with the
arrival of 2 other girls with another pup, this one fawn with a black mask and
very petite and feminine in structure compared to the other pups. An argument
soon arose between the girls and the roommate- turns out the girls had
purchased the pup from Robin and were there to return it- they had been "found
out" by their landlord, who didn't allow dogs. The roommate was insisting they
couldn't return the pup- landlord problems again...plus, she wasn't refunding
any money to the girls in Robin's stead...the dogs were Robins' problem and to
be out of the house before they too were evicted. In the meantime, I was running
the fawn pup through the temperament tests and very much liking what I was
getting. Into the midst of all this Robin materialized. After a short screaming
match her roommate slammed herself into her room and the girls disappeared,
leaving the puppy. Now the quandry. Robin was brokering puppies. Now the
pup was for sale, not for rescue..." I need to recover my costs in food and vet
bills". I knew from talking to the girls that they had had picked up the pup from
Robin as soon as Robin had picked up the litter and they had done the first shots
and deworming...Robin had little investment in the pup. I felt that Robin was
dishonest and was not pleased that she was a fellow vet student...to this day I
have nothing nice to say about puppy brokers. The pup was 7 1/2 weeks old
and if I took her, mine would be the third household she had been in already.
But...I liked her. And for Pete's sake, how many times would she be sold to
people who didn't have their own home or their landlord's permission? ( I was
renting but I had the OK from the manager and the extra security deposit). So
my first, last and only "brokered" pup came home. I don't remember the name
the girls had given her. I called her Tia.
Tia was exactly the right dog. She was perfectly content as second fiddle to Rose
and they never squabbled. Tia always got out of Rose's way or gave up the toy.
She looked more Shepherd than Dane and matured at a perfectly reasonable but
guardian sized 80 pounds. She was bright and she was a pleaser- very easy to
train. I frequently took her with me to class my junior year and she would barely
be noticed lying at my feet despite her size- she was that quiet. We were never
asked to leave the lecture hall:) It was easy to locate good training classes living
in Davis, but we were rarely able to attend... she had horrible recurrent
episodes of panosteitis as a young dog...it seemed as soon as we started a class
we'd have to withdraw as she'd go lame. Maybe a forewarning of things to come.
The family that had purchased her littermate sister moved into my apartment
complex later that year. Her sister, "Indy" was a wreck...horrible, horrible skin
problems. They moved again the next summer but I would see Indy again my
senior year at the teaching hospital.
My senior year in vet school kept me away from home for incredible lengths of
time...I had to hire a pet sitter to care for my dogs! There was another first! But
she had a great sitter in an undergraduate student who needed a big, tough
looking dog to jog with her every afternoon. I found a training class in the
nearby town of Dixon, where you paid $5.00 for an hour and the instructor
worked with whatever she had in the way of students that showed up that day...it
wasn't a set series of classes. For me, that was great, since school invariably
interfered with series of classes. The instructor, Ellen Haro, also did agility
classes that way. Ms. Haro bred Belgian Sheepdogs and surprised me with
another first when I took Tia up there for a class. Tia had a lot of sable color in
her coat as a younger dog and as we joined the group there that day, Ms. Haro
demanded to know who had sold me my "Malinois" puppy! She was indignant
that any responsible breeder would dare sell a Belgian to a vet student...by
definition the least responsible choice for a pet owner. Having met Robin, I cut
her some slack on that opinion but I was never her favorite student. I'm sure
there was some embarrassment on her part over the breed misidentification. In
my entire senior year, I was able to get Tia "my faux Malinois" out to 5 classes
with Ellen. She had a great agility setup with this incredible suspension bridge
obstacle that Tia adored loping across while it swayed. I greatly regret that Tia
didn't have more opportunity to learn agility with Ellen. However, both Tia and
Rose earned their Canine Good Citizens certificates before school ended that
year. Tia was also registered with the Mixed Breed Dog Club of America and I
still maintain my membership with the MBDCA.
I graduated in 1994 and looked for jobs in Northern California. I grew up in
SoCal and did NOT want to return there. However, the best job offer by far came
from a animal hospital in La Mirada. So, I packed up my pets (2 dogs, 1 cat, 1
snake, 5 guinea pigs and roughly 30 cage birds) and moved to my current
home in Whittier. At that first job I met 2 other employees that are still my
friends: Lisa Heitmiller and Nikki Myers. The following fall I took my one week
vacation and returned north to show Tia at a MBDCA event. Her first place
plaque for SubNovice obedience is on the wall and is my very first "show"
trophy. I am ridiculously proud of that little plaque and rosette. I had left Rose
with my parents that week and returned to find she had fallen ill while I was
gone. Within a week of my return Rose was diagnosed with osteosarcoma (bone
cancer) and euthanised. Tia's littermate sister, Indy, had died my senior year in
vet school from the same cancer. Definitely a forewarning of things to come.
That same year Lisa and Nikki saw a flyball demonstration at the Mission Circuit
dog show and the idea that became the Woofgang flyball team began to
develop. You need at least 4 dogs and handlers for flyball, so Lisa and Nikki
asked me if I would be interested in training Tia for flyball. I was frustrated in not
being able to get Tia involved in agility due to constant conflicts with work
schedules and was delighted to be asked...if any group would be able to
accommodate my work, it would be a group started at my work! Our boss, Susan
Tripp, and her Border Collie "Wonder" were also asked but never really got
into the sport...Wonder had some definite space issues and Susan had other
priorities for her time. Nikki and Lisa were able to tempt 2 experienced dogs
(Lani and Batman) and handlers ( Darlene Kellerman and Leona Norton) away
from the Orange Crush flyball team. So, we were off and running with 5 dogs
and handlers. Tia, Rodi and Keeper all earned their first flyball titles
(FD) at their very first tournament...Las Vegas in February 1996 and the 3 of us
were hooked (apparently forever) on flyball as well. Tia earned her next and
final flyball title, FDX, in May 1996.
school. My older dog (a Doberman named "Rose") had health problems and was
no longer able to accompany me on long walks or bike rides. I needed the
exercise as a mental health break from the pressures of school but my schedule
was such that it was difficult to arrange to walk or bike with friends. I was not
very comfortable being out alone without a large dog along with me. So, I
needed another dog. The problem being that Rosie was old, grumpy and not
very dog social. So, I needed a large dog to walk at night with me but a
"submissive" dog that would never challenge Rose's place as Number 1. But, not
a dog that acted submissive to people, one that looked like something that could
guard a college co-ed. So, I put out the word among my vet school classmates in
the spring that I was looking for a large dog and explained what kind of
temperament profile I wanted. Sadly, it was soon apparent that none of my
classmates knew anything about temperament testing or the concept of
"matching pups to people" and I was rapidly frustrated by being met outside of
class by people with the "perfect" rescue dog that was SO obviously the wrong
match for Rose and me. So, it was with great skepticism that I agreed to go look
at a puppy offered to me by a freshman vet student named Robin.
The original story from Robin was that this fawn puppy was from "a small Great
Dane" and sired by "a retired police canine officer". I thought it odd that a
retired police canine would be allowed to sire a mixed breed litter and kept that
in mind. Supposedly, Robins' landlord had found out about the puppy and didn't
allow dogs, thus the need to place her. Robin did seem to know about puppy
testing and her description of the pup did sound promising, however, the plot
thickened rapidly. I arrived at Robins' and was greeted by her fairly angry
roommate, who didn't know where Robin was or when she would be home and
knew nothing about the dogs. Yes, dogs- there were 2 puppies in the yard,
neither of which matched the description of the pup I was there to see. They
were very believably Dane x Shepherd mixes, classic black and tans but huge,
coarse, blockheaded and ugly. Also very independent and "dominant"
personalities. Absolutely NOT what I wanted. More plot developed with the
arrival of 2 other girls with another pup, this one fawn with a black mask and
very petite and feminine in structure compared to the other pups. An argument
soon arose between the girls and the roommate- turns out the girls had
purchased the pup from Robin and were there to return it- they had been "found
out" by their landlord, who didn't allow dogs. The roommate was insisting they
couldn't return the pup- landlord problems again...plus, she wasn't refunding
any money to the girls in Robin's stead...the dogs were Robins' problem and to
be out of the house before they too were evicted. In the meantime, I was running
the fawn pup through the temperament tests and very much liking what I was
getting. Into the midst of all this Robin materialized. After a short screaming
match her roommate slammed herself into her room and the girls disappeared,
leaving the puppy. Now the quandry. Robin was brokering puppies. Now the
pup was for sale, not for rescue..." I need to recover my costs in food and vet
bills". I knew from talking to the girls that they had had picked up the pup from
Robin as soon as Robin had picked up the litter and they had done the first shots
and deworming...Robin had little investment in the pup. I felt that Robin was
dishonest and was not pleased that she was a fellow vet student...to this day I
have nothing nice to say about puppy brokers. The pup was 7 1/2 weeks old
and if I took her, mine would be the third household she had been in already.
But...I liked her. And for Pete's sake, how many times would she be sold to
people who didn't have their own home or their landlord's permission? ( I was
renting but I had the OK from the manager and the extra security deposit). So
my first, last and only "brokered" pup came home. I don't remember the name
the girls had given her. I called her Tia.
Tia was exactly the right dog. She was perfectly content as second fiddle to Rose
and they never squabbled. Tia always got out of Rose's way or gave up the toy.
She looked more Shepherd than Dane and matured at a perfectly reasonable but
guardian sized 80 pounds. She was bright and she was a pleaser- very easy to
train. I frequently took her with me to class my junior year and she would barely
be noticed lying at my feet despite her size- she was that quiet. We were never
asked to leave the lecture hall:) It was easy to locate good training classes living
in Davis, but we were rarely able to attend... she had horrible recurrent
episodes of panosteitis as a young dog...it seemed as soon as we started a class
we'd have to withdraw as she'd go lame. Maybe a forewarning of things to come.
The family that had purchased her littermate sister moved into my apartment
complex later that year. Her sister, "Indy" was a wreck...horrible, horrible skin
problems. They moved again the next summer but I would see Indy again my
senior year at the teaching hospital.
My senior year in vet school kept me away from home for incredible lengths of
time...I had to hire a pet sitter to care for my dogs! There was another first! But
she had a great sitter in an undergraduate student who needed a big, tough
looking dog to jog with her every afternoon. I found a training class in the
nearby town of Dixon, where you paid $5.00 for an hour and the instructor
worked with whatever she had in the way of students that showed up that day...it
wasn't a set series of classes. For me, that was great, since school invariably
interfered with series of classes. The instructor, Ellen Haro, also did agility
classes that way. Ms. Haro bred Belgian Sheepdogs and surprised me with
another first when I took Tia up there for a class. Tia had a lot of sable color in
her coat as a younger dog and as we joined the group there that day, Ms. Haro
demanded to know who had sold me my "Malinois" puppy! She was indignant
that any responsible breeder would dare sell a Belgian to a vet student...by
definition the least responsible choice for a pet owner. Having met Robin, I cut
her some slack on that opinion but I was never her favorite student. I'm sure
there was some embarrassment on her part over the breed misidentification. In
my entire senior year, I was able to get Tia "my faux Malinois" out to 5 classes
with Ellen. She had a great agility setup with this incredible suspension bridge
obstacle that Tia adored loping across while it swayed. I greatly regret that Tia
didn't have more opportunity to learn agility with Ellen. However, both Tia and
Rose earned their Canine Good Citizens certificates before school ended that
year. Tia was also registered with the Mixed Breed Dog Club of America and I
still maintain my membership with the MBDCA.
I graduated in 1994 and looked for jobs in Northern California. I grew up in
SoCal and did NOT want to return there. However, the best job offer by far came
from a animal hospital in La Mirada. So, I packed up my pets (2 dogs, 1 cat, 1
snake, 5 guinea pigs and roughly 30 cage birds) and moved to my current
home in Whittier. At that first job I met 2 other employees that are still my
friends: Lisa Heitmiller and Nikki Myers. The following fall I took my one week
vacation and returned north to show Tia at a MBDCA event. Her first place
plaque for SubNovice obedience is on the wall and is my very first "show"
trophy. I am ridiculously proud of that little plaque and rosette. I had left Rose
with my parents that week and returned to find she had fallen ill while I was
gone. Within a week of my return Rose was diagnosed with osteosarcoma (bone
cancer) and euthanised. Tia's littermate sister, Indy, had died my senior year in
vet school from the same cancer. Definitely a forewarning of things to come.
That same year Lisa and Nikki saw a flyball demonstration at the Mission Circuit
dog show and the idea that became the Woofgang flyball team began to
develop. You need at least 4 dogs and handlers for flyball, so Lisa and Nikki
asked me if I would be interested in training Tia for flyball. I was frustrated in not
being able to get Tia involved in agility due to constant conflicts with work
schedules and was delighted to be asked...if any group would be able to
accommodate my work, it would be a group started at my work! Our boss, Susan
Tripp, and her Border Collie "Wonder" were also asked but never really got
into the sport...Wonder had some definite space issues and Susan had other
priorities for her time. Nikki and Lisa were able to tempt 2 experienced dogs
(Lani and Batman) and handlers ( Darlene Kellerman and Leona Norton) away
from the Orange Crush flyball team. So, we were off and running with 5 dogs
and handlers. Tia, Rodi and Keeper all earned their first flyball titles
(FD) at their very first tournament...Las Vegas in February 1996 and the 3 of us
were hooked (apparently forever) on flyball as well. Tia earned her next and
final flyball title, FDX, in May 1996.
The Flyball Dog
That Started it All
That Started it All
In October '96, I took a week's vacation but didn't travel anywhere. Every day
I was out with Tia...hiking in the foothills, playing frisbee at the beach, chasing
tennis balls on local schoolgrounds before the kids arrived. By the end of the
week Tia was looking a bit stiff on arising in the morning. I brushed it off to
overexercise and expected it to go away when we returned to our "normal"
work schedule. It didn't go away, really. Slowly, gradually it got worse. The
progression seemed to stall when she was rested, then it would show again. It
seemed to stall with rest + aspirin, then it would show again. I examined her,
ran blood and urine tests and did some xrays, all normal. It progressed again.
I took her to a local referral center. They took xrays...the radiologist identified
very subtle and early signs of arthritis in her hocks...not enough to explain her
lameness. We sent out titer tests for Valley Fever and started a round of
acupuncture...it progressed again. We rechecked more xrays looking for
something to have changed that would explain the worsening lameness.
Nothing. In late December she was limping so badly that even the most novice
kid at work could see it. A bone scan was scheduled after Christmas. There
was a clear positive mark on her scan in the tibia, the larger of the 2 leg bones
below the stifle. There were 2 possibilities: infection of the bone
(osteomyelitis) or cancer of the bone (osteosarcoma). She had never had a
wound or injury to the leg. She had no rotten teeth to serve as a source of
infection. We had checked her blood and urine for "hidden" infections. She
had no skin or ear infections that might possibly spread to the bloodstream
and just so happen to wind up in the bone. The breed of highest incidence of
bone cancer is the Dane. She was a Dane mix.&nbs p; German Shepherds are
in the top 5 breeds of high incidence of bone cancer. Her other half was
Shepherd. Her littermate sister was dead of bone cancer. Her housemate sister
was dead of bone cancer. Tia had to have cancer. She was 4 years old. I drove
her back to the referral center closest to my home/work the next day. I had to
plead with the surgeon to amputate her leg rather than biopsy it, but I was
sure. A biopsy would "open the door" for the cancer to spread (metastasize)
by opening the bone itself, leaving the bone intact and taking the leg off
would at least keep the monster contained. Odds were, knowing
osteosarcoma has nearly always spread BEFORE the primary tumor mass was
found, that we were already too late. Her left hind leg came off that day. I
spent New Years day 1997 alone with no dogs, curled up in my chair crying
my eyes out. The surgeon would tell me later when I picked Tia up that it was
the right decision. After the surgery and while preparing the bone specimen
to send out for biopsy, the surgeon could clearly see the destruction of the
bone and the mass within the marrow cavity eating it away. Waiting for the
biopsy result was merely a formality, but the cancer specialist would not start
her chemotherapy without it.
Tia went through chemotherapy treatment in the spring of 1997. I was told in
vet school and Tia's specialist reiterated that animals have far fewer problems
with chemotherapy than people. Well, if that is really true than God help
people on chemotherapy. Tia was horribly ill after her treatments. There was
to be a minimum of 4 and a maximum of 6 sessions. We barely got through
4...I very nearly quit after the third treatment. She had such severe vomiting
and diarrhea and couldn't eat a thing for a week or more after each round of
chemo. I dabbled with the idea of buying marijuana and burning it in the
fireplace for her to breathe the smoke but chickened out. I would probably
have had the most popular house in the entire city and no doubt the cops
would have stopped by as well. I doubt I could have afforded that much grass
after paying for the chemo anyway. Chemo was hell but in the long run it was
worth it. Statistically, of 100 dogs treated for osteosarcoma with surgery AND
full courses of chemo, 50 will be dead within 1 year of diagnosis. Of the 50
first year survivors, 25 will be dead by the end of their second year. Of the 25
remaining, less than 3 will be alive 3 years after diagnosis. Tia was lucky and
got clinical cure of her disease, meaning (for dogs) that 5 years after diagnosis
she was cancer free. She lived to be 11 1/2.
I spent her first year post diagnosis pretty depressed and basically wasting
time waiting for her to die. I had bought my second and third flyball dogs by
then (Wizard and Dodger) and they helped keep me going. Wizard
(coincidentally born on the same date that Rose died) was a wild and flashy
handful to run but earning titles steadily throughout '97. Dodger was titling by
mid '98. When Tia reached her first anniversary and was obviously alive and
well, hope began to spring eternal and the thought to try to take her back to
flyball occurred. This was heavily encouraged and nurtured by Nikki, the
Woofgangs' unsung guardian angel. To my utter surprise, this ignited an
absolute firestorm of controversy in the flyball community over the place of
"handicapped" dogs in sports and society. Luckily, as I did not own a
computer and was not "online" at the time, I was blissfully ignorant of nearly
all of what was said. Nikki did pass along a few printouts of web chat on the
topic, much of which made me furiously angry. I did not extend Tia's life with
surgery and chemo to just leave her on the sofa, nor to waste the time we had
left together arguing and being angry, so I stayed for the most part out of the
controversy and let the tide flow on by. I am grateful forever to those who
took it on themselves to champion the cause of "handicapped" dogs being
allowed to participate in flyball (Bob Long, you are forever a God) even
though Tia did not return to participate herself. Bob himself christened her
"the dog that started it all" a title appropriate in way more ways than one.
Melinda Dayhuff
I was out with Tia...hiking in the foothills, playing frisbee at the beach, chasing
tennis balls on local schoolgrounds before the kids arrived. By the end of the
week Tia was looking a bit stiff on arising in the morning. I brushed it off to
overexercise and expected it to go away when we returned to our "normal"
work schedule. It didn't go away, really. Slowly, gradually it got worse. The
progression seemed to stall when she was rested, then it would show again. It
seemed to stall with rest + aspirin, then it would show again. I examined her,
ran blood and urine tests and did some xrays, all normal. It progressed again.
I took her to a local referral center. They took xrays...the radiologist identified
very subtle and early signs of arthritis in her hocks...not enough to explain her
lameness. We sent out titer tests for Valley Fever and started a round of
acupuncture...it progressed again. We rechecked more xrays looking for
something to have changed that would explain the worsening lameness.
Nothing. In late December she was limping so badly that even the most novice
kid at work could see it. A bone scan was scheduled after Christmas. There
was a clear positive mark on her scan in the tibia, the larger of the 2 leg bones
below the stifle. There were 2 possibilities: infection of the bone
(osteomyelitis) or cancer of the bone (osteosarcoma). She had never had a
wound or injury to the leg. She had no rotten teeth to serve as a source of
infection. We had checked her blood and urine for "hidden" infections. She
had no skin or ear infections that might possibly spread to the bloodstream
and just so happen to wind up in the bone. The breed of highest incidence of
bone cancer is the Dane. She was a Dane mix.&nbs p; German Shepherds are
in the top 5 breeds of high incidence of bone cancer. Her other half was
Shepherd. Her littermate sister was dead of bone cancer. Her housemate sister
was dead of bone cancer. Tia had to have cancer. She was 4 years old. I drove
her back to the referral center closest to my home/work the next day. I had to
plead with the surgeon to amputate her leg rather than biopsy it, but I was
sure. A biopsy would "open the door" for the cancer to spread (metastasize)
by opening the bone itself, leaving the bone intact and taking the leg off
would at least keep the monster contained. Odds were, knowing
osteosarcoma has nearly always spread BEFORE the primary tumor mass was
found, that we were already too late. Her left hind leg came off that day. I
spent New Years day 1997 alone with no dogs, curled up in my chair crying
my eyes out. The surgeon would tell me later when I picked Tia up that it was
the right decision. After the surgery and while preparing the bone specimen
to send out for biopsy, the surgeon could clearly see the destruction of the
bone and the mass within the marrow cavity eating it away. Waiting for the
biopsy result was merely a formality, but the cancer specialist would not start
her chemotherapy without it.
Tia went through chemotherapy treatment in the spring of 1997. I was told in
vet school and Tia's specialist reiterated that animals have far fewer problems
with chemotherapy than people. Well, if that is really true than God help
people on chemotherapy. Tia was horribly ill after her treatments. There was
to be a minimum of 4 and a maximum of 6 sessions. We barely got through
4...I very nearly quit after the third treatment. She had such severe vomiting
and diarrhea and couldn't eat a thing for a week or more after each round of
chemo. I dabbled with the idea of buying marijuana and burning it in the
fireplace for her to breathe the smoke but chickened out. I would probably
have had the most popular house in the entire city and no doubt the cops
would have stopped by as well. I doubt I could have afforded that much grass
after paying for the chemo anyway. Chemo was hell but in the long run it was
worth it. Statistically, of 100 dogs treated for osteosarcoma with surgery AND
full courses of chemo, 50 will be dead within 1 year of diagnosis. Of the 50
first year survivors, 25 will be dead by the end of their second year. Of the 25
remaining, less than 3 will be alive 3 years after diagnosis. Tia was lucky and
got clinical cure of her disease, meaning (for dogs) that 5 years after diagnosis
she was cancer free. She lived to be 11 1/2.
I spent her first year post diagnosis pretty depressed and basically wasting
time waiting for her to die. I had bought my second and third flyball dogs by
then (Wizard and Dodger) and they helped keep me going. Wizard
(coincidentally born on the same date that Rose died) was a wild and flashy
handful to run but earning titles steadily throughout '97. Dodger was titling by
mid '98. When Tia reached her first anniversary and was obviously alive and
well, hope began to spring eternal and the thought to try to take her back to
flyball occurred. This was heavily encouraged and nurtured by Nikki, the
Woofgangs' unsung guardian angel. To my utter surprise, this ignited an
absolute firestorm of controversy in the flyball community over the place of
"handicapped" dogs in sports and society. Luckily, as I did not own a
computer and was not "online" at the time, I was blissfully ignorant of nearly
all of what was said. Nikki did pass along a few printouts of web chat on the
topic, much of which made me furiously angry. I did not extend Tia's life with
surgery and chemo to just leave her on the sofa, nor to waste the time we had
left together arguing and being angry, so I stayed for the most part out of the
controversy and let the tide flow on by. I am grateful forever to those who
took it on themselves to champion the cause of "handicapped" dogs being
allowed to participate in flyball (Bob Long, you are forever a God) even
though Tia did not return to participate herself. Bob himself christened her
"the dog that started it all" a title appropriate in way more ways than one.
Melinda Dayhuff
