As reported Amber’s surgery went very well, but we didn’t realize the full extent of its success until we went to pick her up last night from the animal hospital. Charging through the doors, Amber came sprinting towards us on all 3’s, grinning broadly with her tail wagging furiously.

YAY!!! I'm outta here!

The hospital technician ran along beside her, trying to support her with a towel, but she quickly showed us that she didn’t need it.

What are we hanging around here for, Dad? I'm ready to boogie!!

She hadn’t eaten much at the hospital, but the moment she got home, she headed straight for the cupboard that houses her treats and demanded her Greenie. Then she ate, not one, but TWO portions of chicken and brown rice and went outside and pooped. I know this may be more information that you wanted to know, but if you knew the amount of anxiety that existed in my household about how she would be able to handle this, you would know why this was something to celebrate!

Today marks the first anniversary of my mother’s passing and it was just the beginning of many losses that we endured during the past year. When Amber’s cancer was first diagnosed, I wondered: What lesson are we supposed to learn from this? Now I am thinking that perhaps, Amber’s strength of spirit is meant to remind us of our own resilience and adaptability. In the face of change that is compounded by grief, hurt, and disappointment, we humans may wonder how we will get through it all. But Amber shows us that with love and faith, all things are possible. Thanks, Amber, for reminding us who we are with your amazing attitude and incredible courage. As Max and I wrote in Life to the Max, “…be grateful for every teacher who leads you—even if it’s the one at the end of the leash!”

Speaking of gratitude, I want to shout out to our vet, Dr. Tracy Wight and the amazing staff of McClintock Animal Care Center for their continued caring concern, faithful follow up and patient hand- holding. Also we want to thank Dr. Christopher Monarski, Dr. Miller, Donna, Jordan and all the other technicians and staff of VCA Animal Referral and Emergency Center of Arizona who calmly answered all our questions and soothed our fears during this anxious time. If you are in the East Valley in Phoenix, Arizona, you will not find better veterinary professionals.

Stay tuned for more news next week after we meet the oncologist!

I had been annoyed with her. I had come back from our Thanksgiving trip with a sinus infection and I had gotten behind. I wasn’t feeling much in the holiday spirit anyway, but Amber was in it from the moment I entered the house with shopping bags. She would greet me at the door and thrust her whole head in the bag to make sure I wasn’t trying to slip something good past her.

But the night I was wrapping presents was the worst. Even though I had locked our bedroom door, she knew how to thrust her nose against the door just right, so she could pop the lock. In she rushed, running through my wrapping papers…

Amber gets into the holiday spirit!

…pulling ribbons out of my container…

What a sneaky little devil!

…and standing on her back legs to strain to see what toys I had hid for her high in my closet.

Then on Christmas morning, she had been the first one up, trying to push through the barricades we were forced to erect each year to keep her from sneaking her stocking too early.

"Gimme!"

You just had to enjoy the holidays with Amber around.

Those of us who have Airedales in our families know how stalwart these dogs can be and with so much zest for life, how could we have been prepared–just one week after getting a clean bill health from her routine health check-up–that we would receive devastating news?

I had been noticing that Amber was getting up a little slower, but she had knee surgery when she was a puppy and we all thought maybe she was getting a little arthritis. After all, she is almost 11. Then came the day when she and Krissy were doing their usual rough-housing when she came up lame. I took her back to our vet who checked for Valley Fever, but then referred us to us a specialty hospital. Still, I thought it was an orthopedic issue, so I was shocked when the specialist there told me he suspected cancer. A few days later, the bone biopsy revealed chrondrosarcoma—a small piece of good news in the face of the more aggressive osteosarcoma that was originally suspected.

It is hard to step away from your emotions when challenges like these involve your family members. But instead of reproaching yourself for things you might have done differently, you have to be a dog and stay in the moment. You can’t look back and you can’t look too far forward. You have to deal with what’s in front of you right now and only this, nothing more. When we did this, it is very clear to us that Amber is not ready to leave us. Her heart is strong and her lungs are clear. She is always looking forward and her resilience inspires us. The time that we’ve had to deal with this has been short and given her age on paper, decisions have not been easy. But considering her spirit, that bone and cartilage cancer is very painful, and that her bone is at high risk to fracture, we chose to have Amber’s leg amputated today. We ask our friends and fans to send healing thoughts to Amber and to watch our blog for updates. I will be posting about Amber’s journey as a tripod and cancer survivor–because I believe she won’t just survive, she will thrive. I know this because today I am not just a dog; I’m an Airedale!

P.S. Amber is out of surgery and doing very well.

Many of you who have been following my blog and Facebook page know that my mom passed in January. Today is Mother’s Day and tomorrow is my birthday and traditionally, this was always a time of great fun and celebration with my mom.

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I keenly feel her absence, but also clearly feel the part of her that she left behind. It began in her rocking chair.

When I was little girl whenever I was sad, scared or hurt, my mom would take me on her rocker and we would rock back and forth, back and forth until my feelings were soothed. Many disappointments and much loneliness subsided after rocking with mom in her rocker. When I ran across a picture of our Airedale, Bernie, fast asleep on my already napping husband, it reminded me of how powerful this simple act was.

Bernie was a very cute, smart, and sweet puppy, but one day, she just seemed to decide she was a lap dog. Even when she became 70 lb., it didn’t deter her. My husband had fallen asleep on the couch when Bernie discovered him; she crawled up, and fell asleep on his chest. When I found them, the image was so funny that I took the following picture.

When my husband woke up suddenly and realized Bernie was on top of him, he said, “No wonder I was having a dream that I was suffocating!” Hmm…70 lb. of pressure on your chest can give you ideas!

We never quite understood where this lap dog behavior came from until the day I shared the photo with my mom. She looked a little sheepish. “Well, that might have come from me,” she said. “Remember that time you left her with me for the weekend when she was a puppy? I took her on my lap and we’d sit in the rocker and we would just rock and rock for hours.”

Kids, dogs, and grandchildren all took a ride on my mom’s magical rocker and no doubt they felt the same love and reassurance that I had as a child. The legacy continued when I became a mom and my son and I would share hours of stories, soothing conversations, and quiet reflection in our own rocker.

Though today I can’t physically be with my mom, I feel her presence in my life still. Now I see her sitting in her rocker, holding the 70 lb. Bernie on her lap (70 lbs. doesn’t feel very heavy in heaven) and rocking back and forth, back and forth. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom and to all moms who rock our worlds in so many ways!

It’s been a while since I wrote my blog and I apologize to my faithful followers for my absence. Like most of you, I have had a lot on my mind and by the time I left for a short vacation this summer, I was simply exhausted by trying to do too much in too little time. I needed some time to decide what ideas I was going to pursue and which projects I would need to let go.

As I have in the past, I looked to my dogs for inspiration. In their world, their priorities are simple, driven by single-minded needs: “Let’s play!” “Give me a belly rub!” “Feed me!” They are not preoccupied by complex emotions, family dynamics or office politics. Their purpose is pure and singular.  Still, they too have their occasional distractions—“Squirrel!”—but they are quick to refocus on their original intent. Of course, we humans will always experience more drama in our lives. It is simply our nature. But if we follow the wisdom that comes from the end of the leash, we also will realize that whatever challenges we are facing at the moment are just a “Squirrel!” and we can either choose to get caught up in analyzing the chase or simply let it pass and then return to what really gives our lives joy and meaning.

Besides my family, what gives me joy and meaning is when I can help others celebrate life’s everyday moments, promote healthy grieving and help animal rescue. The way I have done that is through the creation of my book Life to the Max: Maxims for a Great Life by a Dog named Max.

Since we launched our book at the end of 2007, we have been trying to raise awareness and funds for animal rescue and in particular, Airedale Terrier rescue. We donate 25% of our sales on our website to help rescue and we have done well.  But because we are small, we have had an uphill battle for awareness and distribution. What’s more, I’ve come to understand that in the book industry, a book has the life of a gnat and it is totally up to the author to keep its promotion alive.

That’s why this holiday season we are rolling out a national advertising campaign; rededicating ourselves to be more active in social media and holding more contests for some great prizes on our blog. But we need your help. If you have read and enjoyed our book and want to help animal rescue, please join the fun on our blog, retweet our posts and/or send emails to your family and friends to let them know about Max’s Store.  The more books we sell, the more we promote healthy grieving and the more we help rescue. I know it will take some of your time and we all have “Squirrels!” to interrupt our lives, but the other thing I’ve learned from my dogs is they don’t do it alone. They need us to throw the ball. They depend on us to fill their water bowls. And they want us to find that perfect place to scratch that makes them bicycle their legs. We know you’re busy and we’re wagging our tails in appreciation. Now here’s the ball, let’s have some fun. Go fetch!

Tomorrow, many will celebrate “Take Your Dog to Work Day” with a day at the office. For my dogs, Amber and Krissy, however, the day holds no particular distinction since they come to work with me every day. True, I own my own business and our workplace is small, so it is easy to accommodate them. Still, as an employer, I find that having my dogs in the workplace is beneficial for everyone for a number of reasons:

1. Dogs teach us to give every task our best effort. Whether my dogs are chewing a bone, chasing a ball or pulling apart a new toy to get the squeaker, they go after it with gusto. It’s just another way of demonstrating that old adage: “Any job worth doing is a job worth doing well.” Maybe that’s where they get the phrase “Work like a dog!”

2. Dogs reduce stress. A lot of stress is relieved just by taking a moment to scratch the ears or belly of a canine co-worker. Even if you’re having a tough time solving a problem, your dog will tell you you’re the greatest person in the world every time you look at her. In fact, studies have proven that petting a dog can help lower blood pressure-though I don’t know who gets more benefit you or the dog.

3. Dogs can help us look at things in an unusual way. When we’re trying to solve a problem, it is easy to fall into similar patterns. This is where it is comfortable for us as humans. Yet, we only have to glance at Krissy who has undoubtedly fallen asleep in some unusually contorted position that reminds us that there are many ways to look at a problem and comfort is just a matter of interpretation.

4. Dogs motivate us to stretch. In this computer age of information overload, it is easy to sit staring at the computer for hours without moving. Prolonged periods of time writing, reading or researching can put stress on the lumbar region of the back as well as the neck and shoulders. Dogs don’t remain in one position for too long and whenever they get up from a resting position, they stretch first. Daily stretching can provide a lot of physical and mental health benefits including keeping us younger.

5. Dogs remind us that work is more fun when we do it together. Sure there are vendors to bark at, issues to lick and client demands gnawing at us, but all seems doable when we collaborate. In the company of dogs, all things are possible.

6. Dogs encourage laughter. Dogs are naturally spontaneous and playful and they do smile and laugh. (Really!) Whenever Amber or Krissy hears one of us laughing, they love to be a part of it. Amber will throw her bone in the air and Krissy will roll on her back and grin. They don’t let us get too serious, prompt us to take play breaks and generally just make the workplace a more joyful place to be.

7. Dogs make us feel safe. Whether or not we actually are safer .is beside the point. The reality is that my dogs would rather lick someone to death than to bite their butts, but to the unwelcome solicitor we do nothing to discourage their image as ferocious beasts. “NO, WE DO NOT WANT YOUR BULK CANDY, SPA DISCOUNTS, OR YOUR COPIER, CLEANING OR INSURANCE COST COMPARISONS. GRRRR!!!!

8. Dogs can help us stay in the moment. Oil in the Gulf, job layoffs down the street, assistant out with the flu on day of the big presentation-there are plenty of things to worry about in business-but dogs will keep you grounded. There’s nothing to worry about except what’s right in front of you. All you have to do is take some time to chew it over.

Let’s face it—when you’re in business, there are some days we feel like the dog and sometimes we feel like the hydrant. We’re just glad we have always have the benefit of the doubt from our canine companions.

A friend of mine sent me the following parable.  It is written from the perspective of the family dog, but the author is unknown. It is a great reminder to us all to appreciate the moment and to be generous with our time and attention, and the wisdom of its lesson crosses time, generations, and species. It bears repeating here:

I am your dog, and I have a little something that I’d like to whisper in your ear. I know that you humans lead busy lives. Some have to work, some have children to raise. It always seems that you are running here and running there, often much too fast, often never noticing the truly grand things in life.

Look down at me now while you sit there at your computer. See the way my dark brown eyes look at yours? They are slightly cloudy now. That comes with age. The grey hairs are beginning to ring my soft muzzle. You smile at me: I see love in your eyes. What do you see in mine? Do you see a spirit? A soul inside, who loves you as no other could in the world? A spirit that would forgive all trespasses of prior wrong doing for just a simple moment of your time?

That is all I ask. To slow down, if even only for a few minutes, to be with me. So many times you have been saddened by the words you read on that screen of others of my kind, passing. Sometimes we die young and oh so quickly, sometimes so suddenly it wrenches your heart out of your throat. Sometimes we age so slowly before your eyes that you may not even seem to know until the very end, when we look at you with grizzled muzzles and cataract-clouded eyes. Still the love is always there, even when we must take that long sleep, to run free in a distant land.

I may not be here tomorrow: I may not be here next week. Someday you will shed the water from your eyes that humans do when deep grief fills their souls, and you will be angry with yourself that you did not have just ‘one more day’ with me.

Because I love you so, your sorrow touches my spirit and grieves me. We have NOW, together. So come, sit down here next to me on the floor and look deep into my eyes. What do you see? If you look hard enough and deep enough we will talk, you and I, heart to heart. Come to me not as ‘alpha’ or ‘trainer’ or even ‘Mom or Dad’. Come to me as a living soul and stroke my fur and let us look deep into one another’s eyes and talk. I may tell you something of the fun of chasing a tennis ball, or I may tell you something profound about myself, or even life in general. You decided to have me in your life because you wanted a soul to share such things with. Someone very different from you, and here I am.

I am a dog, but I am alive. I feel emotion, I feel physical senses, and I can revel in the differences of our spirits and souls. I do not think of you as a “dog on two feet” I know what you are and who you are. You are human in all your quirkiness, and I love you still.

Krissy and I spend a few moments together on the floor.

Now, come sit with me on the floor. Enter my world and let time slow down if only for fifteen minutes. Look deep into my eyes and whisper into my ears. Speak with your heart, with your joy, and I will know your true self. We may not have tomorrow, but we do have today, and life is oh so very short.

So please….. come sit with me now and let us share the precious moments we have together.

Love on behalf of canines everywhere,

Your Dog

We took a little break from the blog last week, but we’re back with a special blog post from Life to the Max illustrator and designer, Terry Rohrs, who just returned from a trip to Eastern Europe. As she related her adventure to me, I was struck by the cultural differences not only with the people she and her husband met, but also with the dogs they encountered.  I asked her to share her observations in a special guest blog today. Here’s Terry:

A dog’s lot in life is not the same around the world as it is in America. This was never so apparent to me as when my husband and I recently had the opportunity to travel to Eastern Europe. Our observations of dogs in these countries helped to solidify our belief that our own rescued dog, Tater, would probably not have made it out alive if she had been a stray anywhere else.

In Macedonia there were lots of dogs. Almost all were uncollared and ran loose. Like little hobo dogs, they were just about the only beggars I saw. But they weren’t pushy about it. They relied on those big puppy-dog eyes that evolution has nurtured in the species for thousands of years.

My daughter, who’s been living there now for more than 20 months, says dogs are not given elevated “family member” status in Macedonia. They are yard pets, they are working dogs, or they are strays, but not many people bring them into their homes. She told us you won’t find anyone talking baby talk to their dogs, or buying them special treats, or dressing them up in pretty collars and coats. It’s just not done!

We were encouraged to follow the other Macedonians’ example; ignore the little stray and he’d move on. But have you any idea how hard that is for an American dog lover to do? Sometimes when no one was looking, I’d bend down, give a pup a good scratch and tell him just how cute he was and how much I’d love to take him home.

One little guy was so sweet; you could tell he’d appreciate anything we did for him. All of the little hobo pups were good at turning on the charm. Say what you will about the unseemly life they lead: these street dogs don’t know a different way, and they are very grateful animals. I never saw one that was unfriendly, aggressive, bossy, or seemed to have any issues at all with humans! I’m convinced that Cesar Millan would go hungry in Macedonia.

But don’t let them fool you — these dogs are as much pragmatists as everyone else — if I didn’t have food to give them, they’d enjoy a short scratch or chin rub, then move on to the next easy mark! No gain, no loss.

Of course, we were never happier to get home to our own lovable canine companion, but now we appreciate her even more. We know now that Tater’s very lucky she’s an American Girl!

Tater comfortable inside her American home with her favorite ball