The Visiting Angels home caregiver agency provides services to the elderly, and in my case, the not-so-elderly. Visiting Angels is the nation’s leading network of non-medical, private duty home care agencies. It is an alternative to assisted-living facilities and nursing homes.

I came to Visiting Angels after a substantial pelvic surgery left me in a wheelchair, needing twice-a-day care in my home. I am an otherwise independent woman in my early fifties, and I needed to get some help while I waited out the mandatory six weeks of wheelchair recovery. I needed the angels to be my legs, because I have a two-story house and couldn’t get downstairs to feed myself or my dog. I couldn’t get the mail or water my plants, wash my clothes, or take a shower without supervision.

The Visiting Angeles representative who came to meet me at the hospital was prompt, professional, and friendly. She took note of my needs, and she assured me that she could find angels to take care of me for the six-week period. One of my requests was that they like dogs, as I have a very enthusiastic four-year-old golden retriever.

I met a variety of Visiting Angels to fill two-hour blocks of time: one for the mornings, and one for the afternoon, and finally, another for the weekends. Three of the angels were in their twenties, and one was in her early forties. It didn’t matter. As I met them, all seemed competent and skilled. I was uncomfortable with only one of the perspective angels I met, but Visiting Angels took my reluctance seriously and quickly found someone else for the shift.

I wrote up a list of what I wanted them to do, and the angels worked together to provide seamless care. Because they were at my house for periods of two hours each, there were times when they were finished helping me before the two hours were over. If this was the case, I asked that they walk my dog, water my struggling tomato plants, and do some rudimentary cleaning. I was never disappointed with their help. They did everything cheerfully and enthusiastically.

While recovering from my surgery, I continued my work writing and editing for the online site, Dogspired (www.dogspired.com), a blog devoted to dog lovers.  It helped me feel useful, even when I couldn’t walk.

If you are in a similar situation where you need home-assisted care, I would highly recommend Visiting Angeles. They are dependable, and their staff is professional and experienced. They are ready to do exactly what you need, and they do it with good humor and efficiency.

I was born at the end of the “baby boom” generation, and I have the impression that more of us will need “at-home care” when we are not quite ready for an assisted-living situation. With these angels to help you, you can be sure that you’re going to get the best care for yourself (and in my case, for my dog!).

A few weeks ago, I fell down a flight of stairs in my house. I didn’t fall because Tasha, my four-year-old golden retriever, was in the way. I slipped and was lucky to have her at the bottom of the stairs, licking me and encouraging me to stand up. Once a frenzied puppy that I had rescued at eight months, Tasha had settled down to become an amazing and patient friend. This time, it was me who needed to be rescued.

As I sat shaking on the floor, Tasha nuzzled me and observed me with a quizzical expression. I got up slowly, grabbing onto her back, and reassured her that I was okay. Something told her that I wasn’t, because she wouldn’t leave my side, even as I shooed her away.

As it turned out, she was right—I wasn’t okay. Finally, I went to the emergency room of a nearby hospital, and Tasha went to stay at a friend’s house. After the diagnosis, I was transferred to a prominent Seattle hospital and had surgery for a fractured sacrum. When I woke up, I lay on my side and thought of Tasha. I wondered how she was doing, if she missed me, and if she instinctively knew that I would be back to take care of her and resume our relationship.

Before I left the hospital, I was told that I couldn’t walk for six weeks, until the screws in my pelvis were set. Six weeks! I immediately thought, “I can’t do that!” Just the thought of it was too much to bear. My next thoughts were, “How am I going to get my dog back? When can I go home with her? Who will walk and feed Tasha, and who will take care of her? “

I spent the next two weeks at a rehabilitation center. My friend brought Tasha there to visit me a number of times. When Tasha saw me, she immediately jumped up on the bed, as she does at home, and again, licked and nuzzled me. I desperately wanted her back.

I am now at home in a wheelchair and slowly getting better. Tasha often lies on her corner of the bed where she seems content to be, and we are together again. With her by my side, I can’t think of a better way to recover.

Tasha has two new friends, Besa and Bruno. Besa is an eight-month old part Border Collie, part something else. She’s perfect for Tasha’s energy. The two of them play tug together from the same stuffed toy, go romping in the woods and get all muddy together, and are in each other’s mouths. They bark at the same things and have become good buddies.

Bruno is a very small Rat Terrier. He’s almost so ugly that he’s cute. He’s only nine pounds, so he gets to go everywhere that a cat would go–on the bed, under the bed, on the couch, on an airplane. He’s a lucky dog.

At last Tasha has met her match with Besa. I’m happy for all of them!

Tasha drools. When she gets excited, that’s the first thing I see. It happens mostly at the dog park, and I haven’t seen any other dogs that salivate as much as she does. I constantly need to wipe the drool off of her mouth, her neck, and her chest. I wipe the drool onto her coat, knowing that it will brush out eventually. Unfortunately, I don’t have a good picture of Tasha drooling yet.

I’ve gotten used to Tasha drooling, but when she does, both friends and strangers look at me like I have a rabid dog. It’s not something you get used to or pretend not to see. It’s become part of her character–her charm!

Today a friend of mine suggested a solution to Tasha’s lack of attention when I call her to come. Blow a whistle, and when she comes, give her a piece of a hot dog. Simple. So I went out today and bought hot dogs. I’d never bought them before. I was prettty sure Tasha would eat any kind, so I went for the cheapest things that looked like what I know of hot dogs.

I came home, and with a piece of hot dog in hand, made Tasha sit. I then made her stay, went into the next room, and called her to come. She did all three things expertly, so I gave her the hot dog. Wow! She went nuts. For a dog that never gets people food, she was more than excited. I tried it again. Made her sit, stay, and then called her from a distance. Again, she behaved with perfection.

Now all I need is the whistle so when she’s outside and I call her she’ll relate the loud noise with the treat. Hopefully, this will solve the problem of the disappearing dog when Tasha goes with me outside. The Pavlovian approach wins!

More on Tillman…

Four of our favorite bulldogs are hoping to be mascots for the U.S. ski team at the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver. The well-known Tillman, of skateboarding and snowboarding fame, is joined by bulldogs Rose, Sully, and Lyle, as they take to the slopes with their snowboards. Just back from snowboarding down an alpine ramp on the World’s Longest Rose Parade Float, the dogs continue to amaze those who watch.

All four dogs have been preparing for the snow. Their first ski trip was at Frasier Park in the outskirts of Los Angeles. Up to that point, the dogs sailed down hills made with manufactured snow. This time, the dogs practiced on real snow, making it down the run to the excitement of those who gathered. The next step was to get back on the bus to go to Mountain High slopes in the Angeles Crest Mountains of Southern California. There they were given their own bunny hill to ski down, continuing their practice runs to get ready for the Olympics.

The last move for the dogs will be to get back on their bus for the final trek to Vancouver. The press will be out to watch them, and hopes and dreams will follow the dogs as they make a break for it and prepare to ski.

Get ready for more to follow!

I’ve just read over this blog so far, and it has somewhat of a consistent theme, that is, Tasha’s dependence on me and the ensuing separation anxiety. And her quirky problems–there’s that too. Am I being hard on her, or is she just so spoiled that it’s good for me to recognize and write about how these issues affect her place in my life?

Yes, the site is about Tasha, and most of the entries are about her, but the bulk of information out there is uncomfortable when I read it in full. I’ve GOT to start treating her with some distance because she’s so dependent on me. Or, is that cruel and too dramatic of a change? Even when she’s with other dogs, she still prefers me to them. Not good.

Tasha is four-years old now and is almost entirely set in her ways, including seeing me as a somewhat inconsistent pack leader. I’m not sure what to do exactly, but this blog points out the need for some dog behavior training!

The toy “Kong” is supposed to be indestructable. Not true! Tasha chewed hers into bits.

There was peanut butter in it, for one thing. I had been worried that Tasha was suffering from separation anxiety. She gets so upset when I go anywhere without her. So, following some advice, I gave Tasha the Kong, thinking that she would associate the sturdy toy with some fun while I was gone. But Tasha ate the Kong along with the peanut butter in the middle.

I wish I had taken a picture of the pieces of red rubber that were scattered all about. They were in the middle of a pile of dirt from a mud-covered bone that Tasha had dragged in. The stair landing was a doggie mess! I don’t know if there’s any toy that Tasha couldn’t get her teeth into.

I heard that you’re not supposed to leave a dog with anything that they can chew into little bits. Well, guess I messed up on that one. Next, the Galileo bone…

I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I’ve written in here. I’m home now and with Tasha again. She stays by me when I write, and she follows me around the house. Some would say that she’s a good candidate for separation anxiety.

I don’t do the right things. I tell her that I’ll “be right back” when I leave her. I don’t think she believes me. And when I come home, I’m as excited as she is. I’m not supposed to act as if I’m leaving when I’m going out or show much emotion when I walk in the door.

I just wrote an article for Dogspired on this topic. I learned quite a few tips. Since I’m doing everything wrong, it’s time to pick a plan and do some things right.

1. I need to give Tasha a special toy when I leave. She has so many bones and tennis balls, I’m going to have to buy her a “special” toy to have for the occasion.
2. Keep the television on. I do this when I’m working, so I’m sure Tasha would appreciate it if I left it on for her to hear and to drown out the noise of anything unusual. There’s almost no noise around here, but there could be dogs barking around the lake.
3. About the sleeping arrangement: Get her to sleep in her doggie bed. I always praise her for going in there, so she should see it as a good thing. I can’t afford for her to sleep all cuddled up next to me. You just never know…I read that her sleeping in bed with me fosters dependence.
4. No more jumping up when I come home. I know she’s happy to see me (or other people), but the jumping up has to stop. I know how friendly and social she is, but she can easily knock someone down. Don’t know how to solve this one.

Luckily, I work at home most of the time. This can be a good and bad thing for Tasha. She gets used to my being at home and dreads my leaving and not taking her along.

I’ll try out a plan and see if we can get it together. Stay tuned!

Tasha and Her Leash

I’m away from home and from Tasha for more than two weeks. I miss my girl! I’ve only heard stories about her not coming when called, pulling on her leash, and sleeping on the floor downstairs instead of on the bed as she usually does with me.

I’m sure that Tasha is fine, and is enjoying the people taking care of her, but I’m sure she misses the spoiling I do and our time together.

Tasha doesn’t normally get enough exercise with me, so perhaps she’s getting more playtime now that her pal Leo is with her. I’d like to think she’s a happy girl, as I’ve heard she is.

I’ll be home soon, and I’ll not worry about her anymore.