In writing this journal of Lani and her life, I thought I would collect my memories and present them for friends and dog lovers out there---as a remembrance for me of her life and a "filling in the blanks" for friends. All of you have lost a beloved pet and know the pain and emptiness of suddenly being without your daily companion. They do so much for us in the brief time they are with us and become such important parts of our lives.
I recently went to a book store and while browsing came upon a table of books of dog stories, memories, "how-to", etc etc. I realized that my memories of Lani could easily fill a book like those just as each of you could tell your own tales of your departed "pet-pals." I also realized that there IS a point where it is just another tale in a long list of similar tales and maybe everyone doesn't need their heart strings pulled by my endless blathering about MY dog.
But having started this----and instead of abandoning the whole project, I feel I should tell the story of her first Epileptic episode and the dramatic change to our life after it. I thought I would wrap this up with that story and a few final words.
So here we go (and thanks to any of you who have read and enjoyed these tales):
Thinking back, Lani and my life at that time, was really in a great little "groove." My business was booming. I had reworked my yard and turned it into a tropical paradise with thriving avocado trees, exotic flowering trees, a vegetable garden and all surrounded by a huge Areca Palm hedge. I had restored my 1962 Thunderbird convertible and was able to enjoy driving it to my favorite local restaurants. I had been working out at the gym and was in great physical shape. I had been "sitting in" performing music and singing along at assorted Maui nightclubs with some of the great musical talent on the island. Lani was an endless treat of doggie companionship with our morning walks to the park with frisbee (of course!) and evening walks at sunset. Her happy spirit and endless energy kept me laughing and content. I would give her a bath and tell her "You are SO beautiful!" and she would just GLOW in blissful appreciation.
I had gotten in the habit of taking her for a weekend morning "special" frisbee session to a gorgeous local beach "Kiawakapu." This was a very secluded, long curved beach just to the south of my house in Kihei and on the border of Wailea. It was hidden a bit by the large houses that "fronted" it and on weekend mornings had only a few people walking on it. PERFECT for a frisbee maniac dog and her buddy! I would drive the TBird convertible down there with Lani literally squealing with delight in the back seat. Dogs may not be able to read a calendar and know which day of the week it is (nor CARE!) but I can guarantee you that she knew what was happening when I opened the door of that TBird and said "come-on Lani!"
I would park at the far end of the beach in a parking lot there and she would race down the steps to the beach in anticipation. LOOK OUT!!! Anyone coming up those stairs would be surprised by this racing white creature flying by them on her way to the beach. At the beach, I threw the frisbee just along the water line so that she could chase it down in the hard packed sand there. No matter how hard I threw it or how far, she would race after it and "snag" it and then run out into the water---and stand there---briefly in the belly deep water----and then bring it back to me as I walked along. We would proceed down the long beach until a rock outcropping semi-blocked our way (and actually cut the length of the beach directly in half.) I would the turn us around and head back the way we came to our parked car---again, throwing the frisbee along the waterline.
One Saturday, after we had turned around and were heading back to the car, I threw it along and she raced after and grabbed it and headed out into the crashing surf. It was a fairly wild windy surf morning and I had been doing my best to keep her out of the water just a bit to prevent and rogue wave from "getting" her. She got out in the water---about belly deep----and hesitated. And stopped to look around. Something was wrong. I called after her as a wave started heading for her and she dropped the frisbee and again started to look around. I began to run toward her as the wave hit her in the chest and rolled her over slightly to her left. I was thinking "Stone Fish? or Jellyfish?" as I raced to her in the receding but still waist high water. (I knew from Tahiti that stepping on the spiny back of a Stone Fish would release the neurotoxin in those spines and could paralyze your respiratory system and the long tentacles from a Jellyfish could wrap around a limb and cause horrible burns and "stings.") I got up behind her and quickly grabbed her by the scruff of her neck to try and pull her out of the water----and she EXPLODED into a wild frenzy attack on me---biting my arm and opening up a long cut across my throat with her claws. This twisting wild thrashing was something much more than a simple "sting" and I wrestled with her to try to get the both of us out of the water without any further damage. There was blood and foam and sandy wet dog and me trying to keep my footing----and she collapsed. Completely. Limp. My dog was now lifeless and dead in my arms. I lost my grip on her and dragged her lifeless body up on the shore----picked her up off of the sand and carried her up to a slight incline of sand on the beach. And stood there looking at her---my mind racing with "what just HAPPENED?"----and yelling her name and pushing at her. She suddenly GASPED and took a breath, then started to whimper---and stood up crying---leaning against my leg. She had bit her tongue and was bleeding from her mouth and with my blood and the wet sand we were a real mess. She could kind of stumble/walk and I walked her around in a circle a few times to make sure that "all systems were GO" and headed back to the car. I had NO idea what had just occurred---and it was evident that she didn't either.
But everything had changed................
After numerous tests and miss-diagnosis and assorted different Veterinarians "weighing in" it was concluded that she had Epilepsy and the "attack" was a Grand Mal Seizure. A very severe one. It was explained to me that the seizures would occur but could be regulated---to a point---with medication. Which she would have to take for the rest of her life. And, as mentioned, everything changed. I really couldn't go out to play music or even dinner and leave her at home alone to possibly suffer another seizure. Which she did. Not as severe as the first but her recovery was unpredictable and many times destructive to furniture and herself. She would race around the house from room to room, apparently still blind from the seizures effects and frightened and traumatized by the whole event. It was horrible to watch and difficult to try to help her----and certainly not something I could predict or prevent. So it became a part of out lives. We never returned to Kiawakapu beach. I stopped going out at night or for too long. I would take her with me to deliver jewelry orders (sometimes with a seizure in the car---not good!) I started a pattern that continued until her death------bolting out of bed if I heard the sounds of her struggling.
I changed her food from regular dog food to a combination of brown rice, chicken and carrots---with some supplements. I cooked this every day for her for the next 10 years. When I went "off island" on business trips, I made sure she was with a petsitter that could "deal" with any episode and not be freaked out by them. I tried to figure out what may be a "trigger" to the seizures. Stress? Lack of sleep? Second hand smoke---or other toxins? Over the years, we came up with all kinds of "ahh HA!" revelatory solutions ---but she would still have another seizure.
Some time in there I met Diane---and Lani just loved her gentle spirit and kindness and felt a kindred caring for each other. It was wonderful to see them together and Lani would throw herself down in front of Diane for a brushing or belly rub.
As time went by and the economy in Hawaii struggled and different problems arouse, I move from my little bungalow down by the beach to other houses---and her seizures lessened. There was a long period of 2-3 years when she had NO seizures. Then, business got worse and we moved again and she had a few more-----stress? Lack of sleep? Numerous Vets had told me she would most likely not survive a plane ride. The combination of stress, dehydration and confusion of the whole process would most likely put her "over the edge"---and in a small kennel packed into an airplanes cargo hold? Not good.
I could go on and on but simply won't. I found that many people have had to deal with dogs with epilepsy and they all confirmed----it never went away and eventually would be the cause of their death.
So the economy collapsed and my finances along with it. I spent all my time racing back and forth to the mainland to do Art Fairs. Lani was with petsitters or then with me for a week or so and off I would go a again. We finally got the "OK" from one vet that said he thought she was old enough and had a long enough space in between seizures that she would be fine. Plans were made, my life in Maui wrapped up and finished and the flight taken. The journey to our new life was a wild scramble of final art fairs and new locations.
Age, stress, lack of water or food and too much drama and trauma, she eventually started to have what I had feared all along----a recurring session of seizure after seizure that she could not recover from.
As mentioned in one of my postings----both Diane and I awoke a few times during the night on our first night in my new house to find her sitting in front of the beveled glass doorway, looking up at the light. (I had noticed that she had gotten into the habit of falling asleep with her head up near a nightlight or hallway light, but this was different)
Listening to the angels? Drawn to "the light?" It was very odd and I had never seen her do this before.
Diane and I both heard the hooting of an owl numerous times. Our old aumakua from Maui ----here to help Lani on her way?
I mentioned the doorway light to my pal Leigh and he said, "Maybe she was downloading her next assignment?" ------funny but it somehow rang true.....
She came to work with me a few tims and kept pushing away from her bed that I had brought her in----simply to lay her head on my foot and be nearer to me. One day, I dangled my hand down by her and she "mouthed" it and play/chewed it like she did when she was a puppy. She had not done that in 12 years.......
It was quie evident that the end was near and there was no way to prevent the seizures from recurring.
I had the worst 6 hours of my life finally holding onto Lani while I did everything I could to prevent more seizures yet keep her just lucid enough for Diane to fly up from LA on an emergency last time visit to say goodbye to our beautiful girl.
I realized after we had let her go, that I had been living in fear for all these past years----worried about my sweet little dog and doing everything I can to aid her and prevent these horrible seizures if I could. All the cooking of special food and medications and worry and planning and adjustment had, without my realizing, become a part of my life. And now both she AND I were free. Sadly........
I would do it all over to simply have her here with me again.
She was a very unique dog. Never a problem. No digging, begging, chewing or garbage raiding. She was not a "licker" nor "smelly." After a trip to the beach, she would dry out---shake---and the sand would all fall out of her coat. I heard her bark twice. Twice in 12 1/2 years. She was incredibly sensitive but yet just so sweet and loving. I do not think she even knew HOW to be aggressive. She never caused another dog---or human---any problem.
So I now have her ashes in a box here---and light a candle for her every day when I get home---to help her find her way. I simply know she is waiting for me---with my other dogs. (and maybe she's found my Dad--who loved dogs so....)
I have yet to get my final items out of storage in Maui. When I go over to retrieve them, I will take Lani's ashes with me-----to Kalama Park----back where she loved life the most----where my little Angel can chase frisbees on into the heavens.
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