Dear Readers,

Momma and I have now been in Florida for two full months. As you may recall, we left the frozen tundra in early December for greener pastures considering my illness. In other woofs, I could go potty without freezing my little tush off, and Momma would not have to walk outside on all fours – like me – to avoid the inevitable fall and (second) concussion. So you see it made sense.

So far, so good. I’m on my third month of Chlorambucil (chemo), Metacam (anti-inflammatory), Yunnan Baiyao (Chinese herb meant to stop bleeding and maybe shrink cancer tumor) and Panacure (supplement for de-worming and also hopefully for stopping the cancer). You should see our kitchen in the morning. Momma dons the protective gloves and has all of my goodies laid out on paper towels, with disinfectant hand and counter wipes at the ready.

To add a little excitement to my feeding, she has taken to asking brightly “what do you want for breakfast today, Lina — dog food?!” (Ha-ha.) Then, without listening for my answer, she proclaims “okay!” and serves up a quarter cup of dry dog food (not surprisingly a special kind to help with crystals in my urine that she has been feeding me since I was a pup), topped with pea, pumpkin or broccoli baby food. Then she places it in front of me with such a flourish you’d think I was dining at the French Laundry.

Next we turn to the meds. First she gives me (she guesses) three milliliters of the Metacam (“squirt for the Squirt, Lina!) followed by my Yunnan Baiyao wrapped in ham (“ham roll up, Lina — yum!”), then my chemo pill also wrapped up in ham (“magic pill, Lina!”) topped off with pieces of ham with no pills (“treat, no strings attached, Lina!”). All said and done with great cheerfulness, as though nothing could be better! I’m almost exhausted by the time my morning gets rolling.

My bloodwork this time showed my white blood cell count is just a little under normal, but Blue Pearl says all things considered, I’m doing really well. I still play ball with Momma most days, go for at least one walk around the Cape every day and play Frisbee from time to time.

I do have one teeny tiny problem though in that I guess I tend to “leak” a little of that specially-treated urine at night. Not sure why — age? Chemo? Life with Momma (just kidding)?

Anyway, Momma was able to find extra large “waterproof pee pads for the elderly and pets” on Amazon, and they were delivered to our lobby the next day. Imagine Momma’s great joy as the front desk guy (eyes averted) handed them to her in a box that practically screamed INCONTINENCE (see photo right). All I can woof is you better hang on to the extras, Momma. And you can’t avoid the front desk forever.

So it goes. Another day, another challenge. In the meantime, I thought I’d share pictures of me chillin’ on the lanai, chewing on a favorite bone and having a moment with Momma.

Lina, Pawrsevering!

Woofda!

Dear Readers,

What a fun day! When Momma had a little kerfuffle with my normal grooming provider, she dug deep and came up with a great idea — a mobile grooming company that came right to our doorstep. The company is called Love 4 Paws Mobile Grooming, the owner is Karen and she did a terrific job, even doing her best to ignore some of Momma’s more far-fetched instructions. (No fragrance please, we don’t need a bandana, Lina is small so it will not take long to bath her, I don’t think she needs her ears cleaned — all with an eye to keeping down the price — how well I know Momma.)

And get this — Momma was golfing so she wasn’t even there to micromanage. Luckily Auntie Talla was available and came over to welcome the groomer and make sure things ran smoothly. And the grooming was wonderful! I feel like a new person, er . . . dog! Here are some photos of my mobile spa experience. Thank you Karen and Talla! Note that Karen did give me a pretty little scarf which I love!

Winter Updates

As I mentioned earlier, Momma stumbled across a display of my books the other day at Keep In Touch gift shop on Marco, but realized their inventory was woefully low. (Momma had of course approached them previously and asked if they would sell my books, and she was pawsitivly overjoyed to see them on display.) Now she is thinking of suggesting a book reading to generate interest. Guess I better hang on to that little pink scarf. Here is our replenished display.

Also, we had a nice surprise the other day when our friend, Rita, emailed Momma an article from Rita’s and my favorite newspaper, The New York Times. It was on dogs learning to communicate their feelings and wishes by pushing buttons. The article is entitled “Do Our Dogs Have Something to Tell the World?” Apparently, it’s all the rage on TikTok and Instagram. Momma is looking into it, but personally, I don’t know what good it would do me, as I already “Tell the World” my thoughts on an ongoing basis, no button stepping necessary. Just woofin’.

So, for example, I do not need to step on a button to say “outside,” I just give a little grunt and Momma jumps to attention. I don’t need to step on a button to tell Momma to pet me, I just bat her in the face with my paw. I don’t need to step on a button to woof “I hate water” — I just refuse to go near it unless I’m on Momma’s paddleboard. I don’t need to step on a few buttons to make a sentence (as we’ve read that some dogs have been taught to do) saying “It’s time to go home, Momma” or “It’s time for our company to go home,” I just give Momma the look. Actually Momma usually thinks of that one first so I don’t have to bother with the look.

See what I mean? But if you want to look it up, click on the link below and hope the NYT will let you in free. Thank you Rita! https://www.nytimes.com/2025/01/06/magazine/dog-buttons-animal-communication.html?unlocked_article_code=1.nk4.xD4x.IcmoG7K2ZDNt&smid=url-share.

Then there was the Norgaard invasion a couple of weeks ago. Actually, it wasn’t all bad. We played ball and went for walks and they gave me treats. I especially like the kids — Gunnar and Addie — they are usually the adults in the room and pet me endlessly. I did notice that Momma made Uncle Chris take me out for potty a few times which was a bit of torture because I had to show him where to go and pull him along to my favorite spots (again no button necessary) and it took forever. Here are a few pictures of the fam.

Next up will be my health checkup on Wednesday. Momma says not to worry, they will just give me a little physical and also check my blood to see how it’s tolerating the chemo. I have now been on it for three months and I feel pretty good. Paws and fingers crossed.

Lina, Still Fighting (but don’t confuse this with “Fight, fight, fight!” please)

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

I hope you are enjoying the Holiday Season and that your days are filled with fun and treats. Ours have been bountiful and peaceful so far.

A little update on my condition: I am pretty much fine during the day and still enjoy chasing a ball or the Frisbee (or at least I did until we got snow). I especially love it when we get company — and howl and shriek and run in circles and bring visitors a toy to welcome them in!

My problem is at night. Because I don’t sleep with my mouth open — and what dog does? — I breath solely through my nose which is a problem because one nostril is basically blocked. This causes breathing difficulties and dry mouth and I often end up snorting, gulping, wheezing, and snoring.

This bothers me and worries Momma. So much so that today she Googled, “how can I get my dog to sleep with her mouth open” and “how can I get my dog to breath through her mouth,” both resulting in no good suggestions. (Well, hello — who would have one?).

Then she contacted Blue Pearl Pet Hospital with the same question, and they suggested Momma put a toy in my mouth to help me breath and sleep. Yeah, that’s going to work. I’m just glad they didn’t tell her to prop my mouth open with a stick. You never know with her. So I’m pretty sure tonight I will have my little mouse or one of the little reindeer that Nanny gave me wedged in the corner of my mouth, or at least at the ready.

In the meantime, I wanted to share a few pictures of me enjoying the seasonal spirit of giving (and getting!) and visits with friends. The first group is Dr. Becca (Perpetual Motion Animal Chiropractic — check it out at perpetualmotionchiro.com), one of my BFFs, Winnie, and Momma.

And a visit and present from Nanny yesterday! Love my Nanny and new reindeer!

So as we bring the year to a close, Dear Readers, I want to thank you for being loyal followers of Lina’s Dog Blog, and wish you all the best for 2025. And pretty pawlease say a little prayer for Momma and me as we go through this cancer journey.

Lina, Sending a pawful of love ~

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

First, I want to give a big woof out for all of your well wishes and hugs and paw prayers over these past few weeks. Your concern and support means a lot to Momma and me, as we go through this scary journey.

And I think your pawsitive energy may be working because I’m doing pretty well so far. I have been on my regimen of chemo pills for almost three weeks now with almost no side effects. Momma, no stranger to extremes, now views herself as almost a vet, so confident has she become in donning her protective gear, sanitizing our surroundings, tricking me into eating the little white pills wrapped in swaddling ham, and double bagging it to pick up my poop. I eat robustly, go for walks, play ball and Frisbee with Momma and board (see photo right), and even snort and honk and sneeze less at night.

On another front, today is the tenth anniversary of my memorable time with Momma. Yes, she swooped down to Florida and kidnapped, er adopted me, on November 7, 2014. I was innocently enjoying my beautiful home surrounded by palm trees and sun, and the next thing I knew I was at my furever home in Minnesota where the temp was below zero and the ground covered with snow. Anyway, I adapted to Minnesota and trained Momma the best I could and want to wish her a very Yappy Tenth Anniversary!

Finally, as you might guess, Momma was “over the moon” as she puts it, about the election. Me, not so much. I guess my campaigning didn’t “do the trick.”

Lina, Still plugging along

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

You might have noticed that I have been silent lately. That is because we have received some pawful news about my health and I’ve been busy comforting Momma.

Here’s my story: Momma and I both suspected something was wrong with me as I lately had labored breathing and snorted and snuffled when I ate my food. And I snored and sputtered at night. Momma thought it was because I was getting older. But it wasn’t that.

On the morning of September 8, I woke up at 4:30 sneezing and wheezing and coughing and found myself surrounded by blood. The blood was coming from my right nostril. Momma, startled, jumped up to help. I think at that moment she and I both knew we were in trouble.

Momma rushed me to South Metro Animal Emergency Care in Apple Valley. After an explanation of what had happened and an exam, the vet said that my right air passageway was pretty much blocked. Which I already knew, but it was difficult to put that into woofs. Anyway, the vet surmised that the cause could be either a tumor (yes he said that first), an infection or an abscess tooth. Momma got very quiet and began to cry. In fact, when we left the clinic, she cried all the way to the car, and I knew things were bad. When she buckled me it, I gave her a face lick that said, “we’ll be okay, Momma.”

On September 18, we followed up with Blue Pearl Specialty Clinic in Arden Hills, which of course we could have driven to blindfolded. My appointment was for a teeth cleaning, and while I was “out,” the vets did a CT scan on my head to find out what was wrong. Later that day Momma came back to pick me up, and Dr. Edstrom gave her the bad news. I have a large mass in my right nasal cavity.

When they carried me back into the room (which Momma had noticed was ominously labeled “oncology,”) I knew things were not good. Momma, usually tough as nails, was weeping quietly and looked at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t cheer her up much as I was still so wobbly and foggy from the anesthesia. As we were preparing to leave, Jennifer Ficken, the vet tech Momma and I love (see photo left), showed up, and she carried me to the car with Momma trailing along, almost inconsolable. Jennifer gave us much needed support and even put a pee pad in my doggie seat should I have an accident. The car was very quiet on our way home, Momma trying to fathom our “new normal,” and me sleeping.

Next up was an appointment with the oncologist vet, Dr. Duffy, who confirmed that I had cancer and suggested we try chemotherapy in a pill form. She said it was a light dosage and side effects should be minimal, if at all. Momma was to administer it daily.

Momma does not make a good nurse. However, as usual, she did her best. First, she researched the actual process online and almost had one of her famous meltdowns, so afraid was she of poisoning me or herself or others. Soon the pouch containing the bottle arrived in the mail. It was wrapped in what looked like yellow caution tape. I think it even had a skull and crossbones on it, but I may have imagined that. The pill was not to touch her skin or the counter or anything else on earth (except me). She was almost scared to open the package. Anyway, she regrouped and went to the drugstore and bought a million plastic gloves, paper towels and hand wipes. I am just surprised she didn’t order a hazmat suit.

When the day came to administer the drug, I could sense that she was so nervous she could hardly breath (kinda like me) so I was very encouraging and acted like I really wanted the pill (and I did since it was wrapped in ham). I also swallowed it willingly and almost woofed “yum” to make her feel better. After spending about fifteen minutes double and triple washing her hands and the kitchen, we went on with our day. Momma kept a sharp eye on me. Would I throw up? Have diarrhea? Light up like a Christmas tree? Might she have to call an ambulance? Thankfully, none of the above took place.

And that’s where we stand, dear readers. I am on day nine of chemo and so far so good. We play ball — sometimes even before breakfast, walk, paddle board and play Frisbee. Momma is terrified of brushing my teeth, lest she wander into tumor territory, but tries occasionally and we get by.

I can tell that Momma is trying to make every day as normal and fun and relaxing as possible. I can also sense a little false cheerfulness from her, but I just go along with it and pretend all is well. I am still her support dog, after all.

Finally, Momma wouldn’t let me close without including some photos taken since my diagnosis, so here goes. You will see me in my sunflower scarf after a grooming, with Winnie having a playdate, at Blue Pearl (looking at Momma with great suspicion), at the cabin, with Momma feeding me and CoCoa, and with Nanny.

Momma also asked if you wouldn’t mind saying a little prayer for me. Would you please say one for her, too?

Lina, Thankful for the ordinary day

WOOFDA.

Dear Readers,

First, I want to wish a Happy National Dog Day to all my fellow doggos! NDD was established twenty years ago to celebrate all the love and joy we bring to our human companions. Cheers!

Also, I want to tell you that I am celebrating my tenth birthday tomorrow! Here I am in my pretty-in-pink outfit sitting on a rock in our back yard. Cheers!

I know that some of you are amazed that I’m still standing. And although I have to admit that I’ve learned to “appreciate” Momma, it has sometimes been a wild and embarrassing ride. As proof, I’m going to share with you a tail that I have heretofore not been allowed to tell.

One time when I was very young, Momma took me to the vet in Florida because she thought I had accidentally swallowed part of a bully stick. Her evidence? My bully stick was missing and I had a bump on my butt. She had surmised, in typical Momma fashion, that the bully stick was now lodged in my butt and that’s why I hadn’t gone poop in a day or so. The vet, incredulous, explained that the bump was my tailbone. Whoops. That time we didn’t even make it to the exam room. “Well, at least we saved some money,” Momma said fake-cheerfully as she placed me in my car-seat.

All I can woof is, I will forgive Momma for everything if she will just book me a ticket on BARKAir for my birthday. And as a bonus to her, I promise to pick her as my human companion. And I won’t even make her sit under the seat. I’ve already put a bug in CoCoa’s ear (figuratively woofing, of course) that we should go together and she can bring her momma, Rachel, for a companion. All I can woof is Bone Voyage!

Lina, Living my best life!

WOOFDA!

Outtake: Exhausted from my tenth birthday photo shoot. You can see three or four of my remaining teeth.

The other day, Momma had a thought(!) that hit her like a ton of bricks. We should quit agility. It was just time. In fact, she wondered why this had never occurred to her before. She had taken a horrific fall about six weeks ago, we were both of a certain age (Momma has taught me to be vague about this), I was often overheated with my double coat of fur and I had trouble focusing at the start line. So concluded Momma, “Lina, I’m going to tell Annelise we’re hanging up your leash.” And she did. Talk about the tail wagging the dog.

Truth be told, it was okay with me, although a bittersweet moment and the end of a beautiful chapter in my life. The lady handlers in our class were always so nice to me and applauded for my run no matter how long it took me to get going or how misguided I was! I’ll miss them.

Just to show you that we did have some success, I have attached a photo of me with my winning ribbons below. Granted it’s not the Olympics and sometimes I was the only dog at my level and class (and Momma might say akin to a pawrticipation trophy), but it’s something. To ease the blow, Momma has set up my agility equipment in our backyard and said we may do some privates with Annelise this fall.

One thing Momma hasn’t stopped is my endless visits to vets. The vets are always very nice to me and very tolerant of Momma’s “medical diagnoses,” and suggestions, even when I’m the picture of good health. Here are a couple of my favorite vet photos from this summer.

Just to cover all our bases, Momma took me to my trusty chiro, Dr. Becca (perpetualmotionchiro.com) on Monday. I always love my visits with her because she fixes me up “good as new,” and I usually get to enjoy a little Winnie play time, too. You will see that I am helping Dr. Becca with note taking since I know my way around an iPad!

Oh, and we’re going to the doggie dentist at Blue Pearl in September. If ever there was a time to woof “Sit, Stay, Pray,” this would be it. Momma and I are desperately clinging to my eleven remaining teeth.

And just so you don’t think I’m spoiled (“No one would ever think that, Lina”), I had a pawsome time this summer on the boat, at the cabin and at Camp Bow Wow. Here I am (clockwise from upper right) with my good buddy, Erik, my Uncle Eric (who loves to tease me), my cousins Vivian and Julia, Auntie Lori, Katie, Camp Counselor at Bow Wow, and just chillin’ on the pontoon!

Hope you all, dear readers, are having a great summer, too!

Lina, Still defying the odds!

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

As you might imagine, I’m keeping my nose to the ground for any news on the new doggie airline, @barkair! It’s so genius, I can’t imagine why someone didn’t think of it sooner. At long last, dogs will be flying furst class. Oh, and aren’t their boarding passes just the cat’s meow! (Just kidding of course, cats are not allowed. Right? Right?)

Unfortunately, however, I have just learned that BARK Air hit a ruff patch of its own, having been sued right after its first flight. Something about too many seats on the plane for the FBO from which they departed. (Momma says FBO stands for fixed base operator (small terminal), but I think Fur Ball Onboard makes more sense, don’t you?) By the way, boarding from an FBO means Momma won’t have her hands swabbed — while awkwardly juggling me and her carry on– as we go through security hell to detect explosives that she may have hidden in me.

Well, anyway, a pesky lawsuit will surely not stop BARK Air (just like Trump doesn’t seem to be stopped no matter what he does). Plus, if there are too many seats, I woof, just take some out! The human companions can sit or lie on the floor like we used to, right? I’ll call the airline and tell them how much Momma weighs, crate included — for weight and balances purposes only, of course.

And get this, recently BARK’s CEO (see photo below) rode in a crate from South Florida to NYC just to show how we dogs must feel stuck in one for three plus hours.

It makes me think of my own ordeal, which hopefully is a thing of the past. Soon I’ll be enjoying the view from 30,000 feet like this little doggo rather than scrunched under the seat with a view of Momma’s shoes.

On another pawsitive note, BARK Air is growing, due largely to customer zoomies as they say! I see they have already added flights for San Fransisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, Phoenix, Miami/Fort Lauderdale, London and Paris as illustrated by the map below.

Can MSP and RSW be far behind?! Remember BARK Air, we’re not just fly-over country anymore. Maybe I’ll send them a link to my blog — just think of their advertising opportunities!

Lina, Paws up!

WOOFDA!

Dear Readers,

Just when I thought things were settling into a smooth rhythm of our usual summer activities, Momma had another moment as only she can. This time it was an epic fall at Agile Canines Training School.

Last Monday we arrived at class as pawr usual and set up for our runs of the day. This was going to be a relatively easy day, Momma thought, as Annelise had suggested a modified course for us. She told Momma she had a theory that I was anxious about the larger obstacles such as the dog walk and the A-frame, and that I might be able to do a more focused run without them in the picture.

Anyway, the bigger dogs with the higher jumps went first, and my modified course was saved for last (less confusion that way). Happily, my first run went well, especially with Momma frequently baiting me with treats. (I do admit to having a bit of doggie attention deficit disorder (DADD) when starting out and treats help.)

But I dogress. The second run of the day for us started out promisingly well. I attribute this to the fact that I had pretty much memorized the course, and could do it come hell or high water with Momma. And speaking of which . . .

After a little hesitation at the start line (looking for more treats), I kicked into high gear and was traversing the course with lightning speed. Momma was valiantly trying to keep up and did a good job until I reached the serpentine part of the course which is always a little tricky. Just as I came to the last jump of the pattern, Momma, wildly trying to stay with me, stumbled and went flying like an out of control missile. And despite doing her best to do a tuck and roll, suffered an injury (some type of muscle pull she thought) to her right leg.

Despite knowing she was hurt, Momma put on her game face (she was mortified) and hobbled through the rest of the course with me. (I did it perfectly so as not to cause her any additional steps.) We managed to get home safe and sound, where she fed me and searched Google for her diagnosis. I, in my usual support dog role, kept a close eye on Momma, ready to tend to her emotional needs.

The next day she made her (becoming routine now) trip to TRIA Orthopedics where she told the doctor what had happened and what her injury was, based on Dr. Google. The doctor listened patiently and proceeded with her own exam. After a thorough work up, the doc determined that Momma likely had a slightly torn tendon where the hamstring muscle connects with the sit bone and a strained hamstring. No surgery was required, she said, and with time, rest and exercises, Momma should be better soon. Then she asked Momma if she needed a cane during her recovery period. Whoops! Momma, miffed, huffed that no she did not need a cane (she actually knew she still had one on hand from her last injury). But, when the doc asked if Momma wanted a physical therapy appointment after her exam, she jumped at the chance to rehabilitate herself!

Back at TRIA later that morning, Momma was pleasantly surprised to be called in for her rehab appointment by an extremely good looking young man (how does this always happen?). Momma perked right up and, trying not to limp or look feeble, followed him back to the PT room. As with the doctor, the therapist listened patiently to her tail of woe, and ran her through a battery of tests. Then he gave her an exercise (“baby stuff, Lina”) to do at home, answered her multitude of questions (i.e. “would it be okay to walk around the Mall of America?”) and told her he wanted to see her again in two weeks. Momma was thrilled. As I write, she is looking at her calendar and counting down the days.

Lina, Still rolling with the punches

WOOFDA!