Why "traveling" dog lady when you rarely travel?

 I suppose you may be wondering why this blog is named Traveling Dog Lady, when I rarely write about travel. 

Originally, I had big dreams of traveling the U.S. in an RV with my dogs. I've tried to do that several times, but it never materializes.

But really, the name itself was sort of tongue-in-cheek. You see, I had worked in the group travel industry in an administrative role since the mid-1980s. The administrative role meant that I didn't get to travel much at all. I was "holding down the fort" at headquarters while my colleagues and our clients traveled on tours that we had organized for them over a several-month planning period that spanned sometimes up to a year or even two, depending on the size of the group and the length of the trip. 

After running the computers and then taking over the billing department at the company where I worked, I started "bitching" to upper management about how I and my "girls" (as I called them at the time) did all the work, but reaped none of the travel-related benefits. We'd silently watch as our colleagues in the sales department and the travel operations department got two or three trips a year to Europe and elsewhere, while we languished in the office.

True, most of the women who worked in my department were young moms and it wasn't easy for them to pack up and travel without their kids and spouses as the mostly-single sales employees did. However, we spent most summers sitting in an empty office, playing crossword puzzles or computer solitaire just waiting for the phone to ring. We cleaned the office corner-to-corner. We had cookouts in the back parking lot. We watched TV. Meanwhile, everyone else got a trip in the summer.

So, I started to bitch. I showed them life through our eyeglasses. Slowly, little by little, I wore them down, until I scored and was able to get myself and one other person from my department onto a trip. Thereafter, we took turns. We didn't draw straws or anything like that, we just sort of said "Who would like to go this year?" and someone would say they wanted to go, and we made it happen. I and my assistant manager would take turns going along as the lead person for our department. 

The years went by and it became the norm for EVERY department in the company to send one or two people on one or two trips a year. This took decades to accomplish, by the way. It didn't happen overnight. We were treated as though we were invisible. It's not that anyone thought we didn't deserve the perk. It was, I think, innocently assumed that we were too busy with our families, and that since we didn't sell the trips and didn't need to see the operation "on the ground" as someone in the travel department needed to, then there was no need to send us on a company trip.

But as upper management always said, "Everyone who works here is a sales person first and foremost, and always." Or words to that effect. My girls were the ones that the customers talked to most frequently, too. They were the ones who put out the fires. Who got screamed at when something went wrong. Who rarely ever got thanked when things went right. They were the ones who got the extra work when a member of upper management (a group that I dubbed The Boyz Club) came up with a new way of doing things, a new idea, a new thing to implement. We were the ones who got saddled with the work. My question to the Boyz became, "Who's gonna DO it!?" whenever they'd come up with one of their elaborate ideas, generally formulated during a three-hour, mostly liquid lunch. 

So, that's where the "traveling" part of my name came from. It comes from my career background, rather than an actual travel-with-dogs platform. As much as I wanted to do a travel-with-dogs website (and sometimes still do) it just never transpired. 

Instead, what's happened is mostly a pet memorial site because I've had so many pets, and of course the inevitable happens -- they die. I became a certified Pet Loss Grief Specialist. Not a counselor because you have to have a psych degree or an LICSW for that. But I did take the classes from two different schools, and I did get the certificates. Still, I didn't pursue this as a career, mostly because I am retired now. 

I started out getting interested in pet loss grief due to my own experiences in losing many pets, sure, but also because for some strange reason (and this still happens -- it just happened the other day) I have always been the first person one of my friends or family calls when they've lost a beloved pet. This has happened ever since I can remember. So, I see it as somewhat of a calling or a purpose. But I don't want to go all-in on it as a career move or anything. It's like the person who turns their hobby into a career. It usually doesn't turn out that great. What once was being done for the sheer naturalness of it, then becomes something with an income attached to it -- an expectation. I didn't want that. So, my phone still rings when someone close to me loses a pet, and I listen, and I try to say something helpful, and I say lots of prayers.

So, this site isn't really about traveling anymore. Nor was it, ever, in fact. A post here and there, but that's about all. 

RIP Cooper the three-legged wonder dog

I started to write this blog post shortly after Cooper died. He's been gone two months today. I wrote most of this a few days after he passed, but I wasn't able to think clearly and I kept looking at it and trying again. Editing and updating. I think it's actually better than I thought it was, at that time. 

Here we are 60 days after Cooper left us, and still sometimes shocked that he's not sitting right there at my feet, or on the couch, or waiting in the hallway, or sitting by the door waiting to go for his R.I.D.E. I miss him terribly. I still have a dog bed next to the bed ready and waiting for him. No one else sleeps on it. I imagine in the middle of the night that he's still there, that I have to step over him if I get up to use the bathroom. But he's not there. But I say "hi" to him every night, nevertheless. It's nice to put my feet down on that dog bed, instead of the hard floor, and it's nice to think of him when I do.

This is what I started to write back in April, right after he died:

For his entire 12 years, such a short lifespan, people asked me one question... and I couldn't answer it, and still can't. "How did Cooper lose his leg?" It's a question that has haunted me ever since they day I met him, when he still HAD four legs, one badly broken and needing amputation.

I even have copies of his veterinary records from before the surgery. I have x-rays of his busted leg. I have photos and video of him dragging his useless leg around, yet still smiling and happily hopping around as he played with his twin brother, Charlie Brown, who sits nearby as I write this.

One thing I don't know is the story of how Cooper broke his leg. I always speculated that it was an accident. I always stuck up for his original owners, who re-named him "Fluff" because they had another dog named "Peanut Butter" (anyone who grew up in New England knows about peanut butter and "Fluff" sandwiches, which are not a thing anywhere else, or so I'm told. Fluff is the brand-name of a marshmallow spread that was a big hit as a partner to peanut butter on bread when we were kids. An alternative to jelly or jam.).

When Fluff was returned to his foster home with a broken leg, his name was quickly returned to its original: Cooper -- named for mini-Cooper, the car, and because he was the runt of the litter.

Was that all it was? Was he the runt, and therefore his bones were more fragile? And he just broke a leg incidentally and it wasn't a big deal? I suppose I'll never know, and it will remain a mystery.

But in all those years, I'll tell you some things about this dog, this amazing three-legged dog. First of all, nothing bothered Cooper. You could do anything to this dog (except pick him up!) and he didn't mind. Cut his nails? Sure. Bath? Meh, but ok, go ahead. Brush, groom, pet, cuddle. Touch his ears, teeth, nose, feet. He didn't mind. Unlike ALL my other dogs who wouldn't let you do any of those things. Cooper was the most easy-going dog. He was, just simply, a dog.

He also was Hector reincarnated. I truly believe this, and now I've just lost about half of my readers! But seriously, Cooper and Hector had so many personality traits that were not just similar but uncannily identical, there is no doubt in my mind that Hector, whose very short life was only nine years, came back to me as Cooper. In order to come back, he had to be only three-quarters of a dog, physically anyway. But both Hector and Cooper's hearts were so big, I think they needed an extended life on Earth, and this was God's only way of doing it... Hector had nine years (he died four days before his tenth birthday, so let's say ten years); and Cooper had twelve. That's twenty-two years! I had the love of this amazing soul, the HectorCooper soul, for twenty-two wonderful years! How lucky am I? Both dogs met a similar set of circumstances in death, dying extremely quickly and unexpectedly at home, with no time for us humans to even take action to save them. 

Hector

Cooper

People tell me all the time that Cooper was lucky to have found me. Someone once told me that when they die, they want to come back as one of my pets! LOL I am flattered, but really, I'm the lucky one to have found him, and all my other pets. They have defined me. I'm the dog lady. I'm the crazy cat lady. It's in my DNA. It's me. I am the lucky one.

I adopted Cooper when he was 7 months old, after he had broken his leg at 5 months, and (I was told) his original adoptive family could not afford medical treatment so he was kept confined with no exercise mainly in a crate for two months. When this went on long enough, he was eventually returned to the rescue agency (which, by the way, is what an adopter is supposed to do if they can't keep a pet -- return it to the rescue agency or shelter from whence it came). 

I digress.

The rescue had put out word that Cooper had been returned to his foster home and would any of us who had adopted from the same litter (I had adopted Charlie Brown when the litter mates were 10 weeks old) want a brother? I immediately started sending out emails asking anyone and everyone I could think of if they wanted to adopt Charlie's brother, Cooper. You wouldn't believe how many people replied to me, "Well, YOU should adopt him." or, "He's YOURS, can't you see that?" 

You guessed it. I adopted him. 

I met Cooper when he still had four legs. I brought Charlie Brown back to the foster home for an afternoon, and the two played and romped around together, despite Cooper dragging his leg around. The two of them had been the last two puppies adopted from the litter, and so it was a wonderful and happy reunion for them. I could tell right away that they needed each other. That they had missed each other a lot those last few months. It was great seeing them together. I made the decision then and there to adopt Cooper. The same way I had made the decision, in the same place, to adopt Charlie a few months earlier.

The day I met Cooper^

But first, Cooper had to have the surgery, and he was owned by the rescue agency, so while I did contribute financially to his medical care, I had no say in what would happen to him medically or otherwise. The agency decided (along with several veterinarians) that amputation was the best solution. The break was in such a position that, the only surgical solution would be experimental. It had never been done before, and as one vet succinctly put it: "I would not put my OWN dog through experimental surgery. It may not work, and then we'd have to amputate anyway!"

So, in the summer of 2012, Cooper's right front leg was removed. As his tentative adopter (I had already signed the papers) I was kept advised of every step of his surgery and recovery. I was even allowed to look at video-cam footage of him at the vet's office during recovery in his crate. He stayed overnight one night, maybe two. Then he was sent home to his foster parents for full recovery. 

His first night back at their home, he summarily and unceremoniously jumped up onto the human bed! He wasn't supposed to even be able to attempt this, nor was he allowed to, but if you knew Cooper (I didn't then) he would not be deterred. And from that moment, until the minute he died three weeks ago, he was able to jump up onto a human bed and would not take no for an answer.

Hobie, Charlie & Cooper on Cooper's first day at our home

After Cooper had the stitches out, he was able to come home to my place where I had five other animals: Three cats Cali, Tux and Newman; and two dogs, Hobie and Charlie Brown. Cooper arrived at the house one summer afternoon and literally was like the glue that held the household together. He made everything click into place. He especially fell head over heels in love with Hobie, a friendship that would only last a few years as Hobie died at age 15 in 2015.

Cooper & Hobie

    

But over the years we did have together with the three dogs, Cooper, Charlie and Hobie, we had some great trips to Cape Cod as a pack, we had lots of cuddles and fun at home, and it was just a pure joy to have all three of them -- and my three cats -- during that brief time. It was such a larger-than-life timeframe that I sometimes forget it was only three years that the three of them were together. It seems so much longer in my memory, because it was the most important feature of my life at the time.

Charlie and Cooper were my only two dogs for a while after Hobie passed away, until Petey joined our pack in 2017. Cooper and Petey became best friends, in much the same way as Cooper and Hobie were. Petey also has some of the same traits as Hobie, and again I often wonder if he's Hobie come back to me. 

Cooper & Hobie

Cooper & Petey

The three dogs and three cats moved to South Carolina with me in 2018, and then moved AGAIN to a different town in SC when I got married in 2020 during Covid. Later that year, I lost my job of 30+ years, and sold my first SC house which was a very difficult decision. Through it all, those three dogs and cats were there with me as anchors to my excited but upended life. But one-by-one, three of them left us, and now we have just two dogs and one cat.

Cooper goin' for a R.I.D.E.

Cali died in 2021. Newman died last year. Cooper died three weeks ago. I am still reeling from his absence. Cooper was a huge presence in our house. His life ended abruptly and with no clues that he was even close to dying. Sure, he was slowing down, but he was 12 years old and handicapped, so that wasn't a sure sign of impending death. 

Cooper & Newman

.

   

Cooper & Cali

Sometimes, however, I think it's a blessing that he went so fast. He already had a hard life, hopping around on one front leg all the time. He made more than the best of it. He was an inspiration. He never, ever wanted help and I think checking out so quickly was connected to his desire to do things his way with no assistance. He would refuse to be picked up, and like I said he could jump up onto a bed, or furniture, or into and out of the car better than his twin brother who has all four legs! He was just a remarkable creature, and everyone loved and adored Cooper.

Twinz! Cooper & Charlie Brown

Cooper was like "the drunk uncle" who lives with you. He was loud, and obnoxious. He snored (we thought it was Charlie doing all the snoring, but come to find out, it was Cooper). The house is SO quiet now. You can hear a pin drop at night, whereas just his mere presence in the home took up space and energy like nothing I've ever seen in my life. Cooper would bark at the TV whenever an animal or a child appeared on screen. Even if it was a cartoon. Commercials were particularly bark-producing because of the fast moving snippets of video that seemed to dash across the screen. We believe he saw the TV screen as a big window and maybe he thought all of that was happening outside our house! Who knows, all I know is he was LOUD, and it was impossible to watch any shows that included dogs, cats, horses, bears or even sharks. And now that the drunk uncle is gone, we miss him. Sure, he was loud and obnoxious and un-well, but he was our drunk uncle, and he made us laugh and now he has made us cry.

I haven't gotten rid of any of Cooper's belongings yet and probably won't. Except for one. His favorite bed. I had this thing for YEARS. I think it went to three houses with me, definitely two. I had tried to wash it in the machine so many times it was just a plush bag filled with lumps. But he loved that damn bed. Maybe because he also was a plush bag filled with lumps! I couldn't flatten out that bed, and I could barely keep it clean, but he loved it. He slept on it every night, right by my side on the floor next to the bed. I couldn't imagine either of the other dogs would want to sleep on it, so I decided to bring it to the dump the next time I went. I placed it outside on the front porch for about a week, simply because we had no plans to go to the dump for that long. Cooper had died elsewhere in the house, so the bed had nothing to do with his death, it was just old and lumpy and stupid to keep. Every time we went for our daily walk after I put that bed on the porch, Charlie would sniff it for a few minutes, halting on his way up or down the steps to grab the scent of his brother. The day I brought it to the dump, I went by myself. Thankfully, hardly anyone was there, as I walked to the Bulk Waste receptacle to toss it in, I hugged the stinky fur-covered bed to my heart and started to cry. I felt stupid, but so what? I whispered goodbye to Cooper and threw the bed over the top of the high dumpster, and returned to my car. I sobbed the whole way home. In my car, that Cooper loved to ride in.

Cooper's rides in my Subaru Forester were his favorite thing. I've had that car ever since Hobie and Hector, so all five of my most recent dogs have "lived" in that car with me. We had so many adventures. During Covid, one thing I did was take Cooper for long rides, just the two of us. Before I met my husband, the three dogs, Cooper, Petey and Charlie and I would hop in the car on Sundays, and strangely enough we would drive from our home in the southern part of the Myrtle Beach area to the town I live in now!! We had no way of knowing we would ever live here! But maybe we did on some subconscious level. I still have the car. I took Cooper for one last ride about a month ago. I noticed he had trouble getting in and out of the car, and on one day he didn't even want to go! His favorite thing! I should have taken that as a sign that something was wrong. 

I took Charlie and Petey for a ride in that car this week. The same route I would take Cooper during those Covid days and beyond. It wasn't the same. Cooper would just lay back (he was so laid back!) and sleep, and he enjoyed the rides so much. Charlie and Petey barked most of the time and didn't quiet down until we were a half hour away!

One thing about Cooper's death that I've noticed is that I don't feel AS guilty as I did with almost every other pet who has passed before he did. There was always something I did wrong that I shouldn't have done. Something I could have done that I didn't do. Something I did too much of (medication, mainly) that I should have stopped doing. Things I should have noticed but didn't. I can say that level of guilt is not there this time. It's a different type of grieving without so much guilt. Oh, there's a little, but not as much as the all-consuming guilt I have had with almost every one of my previous pets. There's a calm regarding the guilt portion of the program. But his absence is glaring and shocking, and the house is so quiet and different without Cooper. At times, it takes my breath away. Other times, I smile if I happen to see a picture of him, or if I see the cat, Tux, lying in Cooper's seat of the couch (Tux has taken over Cooper's seat on the couch!!). If I see a butterfly, or a cardinal. I know that's Cooper saying hello. 

Tux, sitting in Cooper's seat!

Life with Cooper was beautiful. I am so fortunate that I adopted him. He was a wonderful creature, "just" a dog, but a very special dog. I will never, ever forget him.

RIP Cooper

11/11/2011 - 3/29/2024

Helping My Local Animal Shelter

Following here is a letter I wrote this morning to the Horry County (SC) Council regarding proposed plans for Grand Strand Humane Society to build a new shelter in the neighborhood known as Carolina Forest in Myrtle Beach:

***At the bottom of this post is an update Grand Strand Humane Society posted on Facebook after the meeting with Horry County Council. Unfortunately, the outcome did not go as hoped, but GSHS is not giving up! ****

Good morning,

I heard the executive director of Grand Strand Humane Society on WRNN this morning, talking about the opposition to plans for the shelter to build a state-of-the-art facility in Carolina Forest. 

As a dog rescue advocate and the owner of three rescued dogs and one rescued cat, it disturbs me greatly to see anyone oppose these plans of expansion for the shelter. It also is troubling to see how many people are surrendering their pets to area shelters in and around Horry County and the Grand Strand. 

I moved here in 2018 from Massachusetts and retired. I came here with SIX pets and it would never, ever occur to me to surrender any of them to a shelter. But it seems a lot of the housing developments or landlords don't allow pets, or lifestyle changes have made people move here and then surrender their pet because having a pet is inconvenient or expensive. Add to that the pandemic-era high levels of adoption, followed by the "buyer's remorse" scenario that resulted in people turning over their pets to shelters in droves as they went back to work. The situation is awful. 

The Grand Strand is exploding with housing developments and none of those are being opposed, yet something GOOD like this is being opposed by only a handful of people who have nothing better to do but whine and say "not in my back yard". 

Grand Strand Humane Society’s new facility on River Oaks Drive is designed to be a beautiful building surrounded by more than 100 acres of nature held for conservation. The architectural renderings submitted show a beautiful facility that will only enhance the existing community. LS3P is a highly esteemed architectural firm.

The shelter will be adding multi-tiered interior and exterior sound mitigation such as sound absorption kennel materials, AcoustiBlok Soundproof Fencing and the addition of mature landscaping, berm and water features.

GSHS will contribute to the conservation of natural landscape by occupying less than 3% of the 112 acre property leaving the overwhelming majority of this property undeveloped.

The shelter will be installing state of the art HVAC and Plumbing – 4, 8 and 12 minute air exchanges, drains in each kennel and extensive well engineered plumbing throughout so that odor will not be a concern.

The construction of GSHS on this land will result in less traffic than there would be if this lot was developed with additional homes.

Animal shelters are proven to have no reduction in surrounding property value. (St. Hubert’s Animal Welfare Center, Flower Mound Animal Services, Animal Refuge League of Greater Portland, Second Chance Animal Center are nearby examples of this.)

I hope that you will find it in your conscience to approve GSHS's plans to build a new facility on River Oaks Drive. Having this larger and modern facility will help the community greatly. Right now, the dogs and cats in their care are being housed in SEPARATE locations in less-than-ideal locations (one inside a mall... I mean, come on!). Gone are the days of cinder block buildings with chain-link dog runs and constantly barking dogs outdoors. This impressive facility will boost Myrtle Beach in the eyes of pet rescuers everywhere. It's not a good look for y'all to be against this improvement to our community.

Thank you for listening.

Kathleen Mandell

Little River, SC

Here is the Facebook post from Grand Strand Humane Society after the meeting with HC Council:

"Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts to each and every one of you that has advocated for Grand Strand Humane Society in our fight to acquire land for our new facility. There simply aren't words to properly convey our gratitude for the outpouring of support we have received.

Last night, you guys showed up for us in a BIG way.

We can't count the number of times we were told - "We have never seen these rooms so full!" It was a sea of blue as far as the eye could see. While we may not have had the outcome we hoped for last night, we certainly made our presence known. You all made an impact on the opposition, on our county council and especially on us. There wasn't a dry eye among our staff and executive team as we looked out into the room.

We know that the intricacies of meetings such as last night can be a bit confusing, so we wanted to take the opportunity to clarify what occurred. Our team was able to have some very positive conversations with many county council members over the past several days. We explained the progress that we had made with concerned neighbors and showed the support that this project had. Our hope was that we had sufficiently demonstrated our ability to work with neighboring communities and find common ground in order to move this critical project forward. In the hours leading up to last night's meeting it became more and more clear that we would likely not be granted our requested deferral, meaning the resolution would be struck down and we would not be allowed to reapply for use of this land for 12 months. There was an option on the table for us to withdraw our own application, but there was confusion on what that would mean. While county council was in executive session, we worked to determine what the result of withdrawal would be. Whether it meant we could reapply right away while continuing to have constructive conversations with neighbors and council, or if it meant we would be forced to wait 12 months to reapply just as it would have been if we allowed the resolution to be struck down. In the final moments before our resolution was called, we made the choice to keep our fate in our own hands. We withdrew our application for rezoning. Our team felt this decision allowed us the small chance of keeping hope alive for this piece of land.

We know that some of our supporters left feeling frustrated, confused, disappointed, angry and unheard.

Please know that you WERE in fact heard.

All day, we have received calls from the media and county council members who were so impressed by the number of supporters and by the behavior you all displayed. You were classy, composed and respectful. You showed those watching what GSHS is all about.

For those asking what happens now....

We will continue to proudly serve our community. We will continue to fight for the most vulnerable among us. We will continue our pursuit of a facility that our animals, staff and volunteers deserve. We will not allow this minor bump in the road to slow us down in the least.

You can share new ideas, reach out about land opportunities and find so many ways to get involved in our efforts by visiting campaigngshs.org!

To every person who took the time to write an email, make a call, share our information, talk to neighbors, attend the council meeting last night... thank you.

This GSHS team is steadfast, strong and unbelievably resilient. Our team includes YOU and for that we are so very grateful."

RIP Newman

Enjoying a winter day in Spencer, Mass., 2011

Links in this post may give us a smidge of dough to help support the website! Thank you so much if you end up buying something from one of the links provided.

Our beautiful kitty, Newman, passed away peacefully at home in the wee hours of this morning, surrounded by his human parents and his fur siblings. His death was shockingly fast, and he did not suffer. In fact, we didn't even have enough time to discuss bringing him to the vet to be euthanized.

Newman had been diagnosed with thyroid disease about four months ago, right after our scary medical situation with Petey. Newman never tolerated the thyroid meds, and after a while it was clear that the only option was to make him comfortable at home and enjoy our time together. As recently as yesterday, he was eating, drinking, relieving himself properly in the litter box, interacting with us and his furry pack mates, and even cleaning himself. I thought we had several more weeks, but that was not in the cards. He deteriorated so rapidly overnight, it was shocking. About an hour before he died, he actually walked down the hall and used the litter box, then walked back to the crate where he loved to sleep (Petey's crate lol). I've had dozens of cats, and have never seen one be so clean, determined and dignified all the way to the end!

Newman never gave me an ounce of trouble in his 13 short years with me. He lived in three homes with me: Spencer, Mass., Murrells Inlet, SC and here at Brad's house where we moved three years ago. Newman never strayed from the yard or porches -- ever. He never "went missing" like my other cats. He always stayed close to home. He never fought with another cat, or anybody else. He was always clean and fluffy and had the most beautiful eyes. He followed us on our dog walks both here and in Spencer on Thompson Pond. He cooperated with the "staying indoors" rule for two whole years when we moved to SC because we lived on a busy street (although he did sneak out twice, but never left the front yard!).

All in all, Newman was a great friend and companion. He loved the dogs, especially Cooper (doesn't everybody?).

I'll share some photos of Newmie Newms as soon as I've had a chance to look for them.

RIP Newman

May, 2009 - February 19, 2023

Photo dump! Get ready!!!!

All photos property of Kathleen Mandell