Salmonella threat leads to massive recall

Pretty scary stuff here.

Diamond Pet Foods has recalled eleven brands of pet food, as have several companies who co-manufacture with Diamond. So far, fourteen people are reported to have grown sick after handling the products, and many dogs have died. I have been told that some breeders lost entire litters due to the contaminated food.

Wellness in particular has voluntarily recalled Super5Mix Large Breed Puppy with certain "best by" dates. (Check their website for the latest updated information.) This is the exact food that Shadow enjoyed until he reached the one-year mark and that I wrote about many posts back. He now eats Super5Mix Large Breed Adult.

If you have a pet, please continue to check the official website for the recall (diamondpetrecall.com) and give some thought to making any necessary changes.

Although Shadow's food seems to be safe for the moment, this is a wake-up call for my family. I am considering switching to something more natural. Blue Diamond Breeding recommends Life's Abundance, which has no (possibly cancer-causing) preservatives, but only gets three stars on dogfoodanalysis.com. I will continue to research the best food for dogs like Shadow, and keep everyone updated. 

Being a parent of any kind isn't easy. That's why I started this blog to begin with. So often it's just an exercise in trial and error. All we can do -- while raising dogs, humans, or the snail your kid picked up from the back yard -- is make the best decision we can with the information at hand, and pray the "errors" are always rectifiable.

A look back after 6 months

From left by row, Shadow at two, three, four and five months old

Shadow officially turns six months old today, and it's hard not to let my mind wander back to the first day he came into my life. Emotionally wrecked at the hands of another, less responsible breeder (Don't let that happen to you), Chris and I made the trip up to Blue Diamond with a pesky glimmer of hope that neither of us would allow to shine through.

After weeks of torture, we had resigned ourselves to the fact that the bed we had bought, the toys we had gleefully picked out, the ID tag we had engraved ... none of these things would be used for at least another three months. After coming to love and watch this other puppy grow (at least until the breeder stopped showing us pictures), we were devastated at the thought of now waiting for another breeder to approve us, another dog to get pregnant, another mother to nurse her pups for 8 weeks, etc.

We meet Shadow at 7 weeks old

Finding a lovable silver Lab puppy on the same schedule at that point would have been like planning a 200-person wedding the week before. I made phone calls, and everyone was sorry but I was too late.. too late... too late. Then Janet from Blue Diamond picked up the phone.

She had not one but two silver males and several charcoal puppies ready to go home in a week. They hadn't even been advertised. And we could have the pick of the litter. Still, we were hesitant. (As the now-butchered saying goes, "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.")

Shadow comes home with us at 8 weeks

Then we arrived, met two wonderful people and spent a half hour sitting on the floor playing with a room full of bounding, healthy, happy 7-week-old puppies. We didn't even have to deliberate over which was to be ours; he picked us. It was one of those moments I'll never forget: When Chris and I looked at each other, then at the cuddly, shoestring-gnawing bundle of fur that had chosen to sit in my lap for a good 10 minutes (enamored by my jeans and my shoes while his brothers came up to inspect and then to bound away) and smiled at each other. Our eyes said it all. This little guy was a sweetheart with a little spunk, and he was ours.

Shadow at 10 weeks and 6 months. It’s amazing how fast the time goes.

Now a member of our family for 4 months, there are times I wonder where that sweet little guy has gone. But those feelings never last long. Shadow is a character, that's for sure. He can be stubborn, he can be disobedient, and he can get a little too excited sometimes. But he still rests his head in my lap (after trying unsuccessfully to put his entire body there), he still follows me around like he is my shadow, he's still soft as silk, and he still does something funny or adorable every day.

He is the puppy I always wanted and almost didn't get. And his existence in my life is proof that things do indeed happen for a reason, and every so often where you are is where you were always meant to be.

First 'parenting' scare

Here's a scary moment for you, about which I was going to write in my journal... then realized that's pretty much what the blog is for...

I just took Shadow out for his post-breakfast walk, hoping to get in a decent distance because weather.com was predicting a storm at 10 a.m. It was a little before 9 when we stepped outside to a calm, mild morning with grey clouds. I figured we had some time.

But by the time we walked about 200 feet, those clouds had grown much darker and the wind had picked up. By the time we turned around and reached the side of the house, trees were swinging, the sky was charcoal grey, the rain had begun, and the noise that sounded like planes and lawn tools a minute earlier was undoubtedly thunder. It was clear a large storm was about to hit, and I had a metal key in my pocket and Shadow's leash, which was attached by a metal clip

We needed to get inside, asap. But Shadow had other plans, namely going absolutely mad on the leash, thrashing and jumping and pulling me this way and that. And while this is not an altogether rare occurrence, with thunder thrashing from all around us and trees as tall as buildings pitching in the wind, I was afraid he knew something I didn't... like a tornado was at the other end of the street and making its way over.

Then, amidst all the thrashing and me yelling over the wooshing leaves for him to come towards the front door, the unthinkable happened. He writhed his collar off and started sprinting. He was booking it through the yard, feet from the street. My heart stopped as the multitude of horrible things that could happen flashed through my mind in a fraction of a second. He's going to run away. He's going to be hit by a car. I'll never catch him. He'll be lost in the storm. 

The adrenaline was pumping as I raced after him. He sped toward me and away, thinking it was a game, as the clouds broke and the rain began to pour. By the time I ended up physically straddled on top of him in the front lawn, the storm was fully overhead and I wasn't sure how to get him, sans collar, to the front door. There was no way to hold onto him, and getting his collar on would require me loosening my grip and probably allow him to slip away again. My entire body was fluttering, the bones in my arms shaking.

So I did the only thing I could think of. I picked up the 45-pound thrashing little bugger, carried him across the lawn in a probably very uncomfortable position, straddled him again while I unlocked the door (any neighbor who might have been looking out a window at this time got quite a performance) and tossed him safely into the foyer.

I locked the door behind us and collapsed on the stair -- wanting to both hug and strangle him at the same time -- and let the weak, trembling feeling wash through me.

Judging from his bowed muzzle and melancholy disposition, he knows he did something wrong. If only I could know what's going on in that adorable but little head of his.

What I Know Now

As a newcomer to the world of pet adoption, I assumed common sense would get me through the first stages of finding and entering into an agreement with a breeder. Alas, the guidebooks I consulted a little too late and the events of the following months proved me wrong. The result was a little egg on my face, a lot of heartache, and a desire to help the same thing from happening to anyone else. After all, a mistake isn't a total waste if a lesson is learned, right?

Things to consider (I wish I had!) before entering an agreement with a breeder:

- During your search for the breed you have chosen, consider distance from your home carefully.
The online world is small, but the real world is large. Stumbling upon a web page showing the most adorable schnauzer puppies is not enough.
There are many options to consider when buying a dog, but being able to drive to and meet the breeder in person should be double- or triple-weighted. Humans are pretty perceptive, but there is only so much we can gauge over the phone. Physically meeting a breeder, seeing where the puppies will spend their first eight weeks of life, being able to pick up your pup rather than shipping him as plane cargo, and having the option of jumping in the car should there be an emergency or other major concern (rather than sitting miles away at the mercy of the breeder’s willingness to call you)… is absolutely invaluable.
If you’ve done everything in your power but can’t find a breeder nearby, ask for several client references as well as the name and number of the vet they use. And contact them!

- Get a detailed description of how the pups will be cared for.
That means how and where they will sleep; who will attend to them during the day and how often they will be handled and played with by humans; what sort of medical regimen they will be given and by whom; what shots and treatments they will have received by the time they enter your home; whether their dew claws will be removed (if that is important to you), and what sort of health guarantee the breeder provides (if they don’t, move on because health guarantees are extremely common these days and extremely important).
Keep in mind that some breeders do give their own shots, but the puppies should still physically see a vet. Don’t blindly trust if your gut feels uncomfortable with the way something is being done. You may only have to deal with the breeder for two months, but you'll have the dog they give you for another 15-or-so years.

- Find out when the breeder usually sends pups home, and what happens if a puppy gets sick and has to stay a bit longer. Also inquire as to whether this has happened before, and whether any of their dogs have had major health problems after being placed in their new homes.

- Find out how accessible the breeder is.
It is not always a great indicator, but if you are being neglected before you even put down the first payment, signs are you’ll be sitting on pins and needles for two months wondering when and whether you’ll be getting your puppy. Trust me, it's not a good feeling.

- Find out what will happen to your payment and your deposit should something go wrong.
Get this in writing. Also, you should not be asked to pay the entire sum until the puppy is on his way home.

Finally...
When gathering all this information, it is extremely important to speak to the breeders directly, so you can better gauge how sincere they are and what is driving them. If your gut tells you to walk away, there is most likely a very good reason and you should listen.

Again, you are making a very long commitment to this dog, and he deserves an owner who will stick with him no matter what. Make sure you're comfortable with the entire situation before taking hold of that leash.

The Waiting (let's hope it really is the hardest part)

As much you probably want to see some cute new puppy pictures, I want to be able to post them so much more.

For the past week, Chris and I have been prisoners in our own lives, metaphorically held hostage by the unclear whereabouts of our puppy.

Most pups go home to their families at Week Eight. Like the second language window, it is critical that they are assimilated into their new families as soon as possible both for training purposes and to make the adjustment easier on the pup.

But our puppy’s eight week birthday has come and gone and we are still in anguish – agonizing over when we’ll finally see our Shadow and struggling not to give into the very real possibility that we never will.

It’s a possibility I cannot bear to even consider. But after several weeks being left in the dark for days at a time, fighting to remain calm and not give into the pressure, even my most positive thoughts have started to give.

When we first inquired about getting a spot in the early February litter, the breeder (who for now will remain nameless) was as accommodating as could be. She was thrilled that we were interested, touched by the loss of Chris’ dog Bumps two years ago, and said we “sound like exactly the type of people we choose to raise our dogs.”

Within 12 hours after initial contact, we’d exchanged 11 e-mails and a phone call, and had secured our spot (with the first of three payments) in the very next litter.

Then we celebrated. We were finally getting a puppy. I was finally getting a puppy, after 27 years yearning for one. Chris and I were going to be parents – “puppy” parents, sure, but that was all we wanted at the moment.

We were cautiously optimistic. We had claim to a silver male, but there was no telling how many puppies would be born or the ratio of male to female, silver to charcoal.

We told only our immediate families about the possible delivery. And for 18 days, we were like balloons ready to pop, so eager to jump for joy but unwilling to risk the pain that would come if we were wrong.

Finally, on February 2, one charcoal and three silver puppies – all male and all seemingly healthy – were born. For the next four weeks, we were addicts for the breeder’s Twitter page, checking 30 times a day for photos and videos of our puppy.

Can you imagine having a baby then being unable to see or hold it for eight weeks? Can you imagine relying entirely on someone else to even give you that ability? No, I’m not equating human babies with puppies, but for a young woman eager for a non-human companion to nurture and pass the time with, for a young man hoping to fill a hole left by the passing of his childhood dog, and for a couple aching to welcome a third family member, this has been torture.

The e-mails that came so easily when we were looking to spend our money became a trickle a few weeks after the birth. After five weeks, the Twitter posts stopped showing new photos of the puppies and instead dwelled on items like the death of Marie Osmond’s son; news articles either loosely or not at all related to dogs; and the breeder’s desire to get photos up on PEOPLEPets, whose Twitter bio is “Meet celebrity pets, see the cutest photos and create your pet's profile!”

We were getting nervous, but we both kept our fears to ourselves. We didn’t want to shake the other up or validate the concerns by saying them out loud.

But in late March, one week before their eight week birthday, Chris and I went away for one last vacation, knowing we’d be unable (and probably unwilling) to travel anywhere far away for a few months after Shadow’s arrival. I e-mailed the breeder a week before we were scheduled to leave, inquiring about supplies we’d need to order within the week to ensure our pup would be ready to go on March 30. A few days later, I e-mailed her again, reiterating that we would be leaving the country and really needed to get this done. Soon the panic began to shape, then anger.

We spent every day in the Dominican Republic either trying to connect to Wi-Fi or using it, checking our e-mail and hoping against hope that we’d hear something from her. Nothing.

When we landed back in the U.S., the pups were seven weeks old exactly. We called and e-mailed again. This time Chris placed the calls, because as terrible as it is, some people still pay more attention when “the man” gets involved. (A better subject for another time, perhaps.)

Finally, low and behold, she called us back. Our puppy was doing fine, she said. She was going to take him to the vet soon for a final checkup and he should be on a flight April 1, she said.

Then two of his brothers died, and the pangs of dread got more severe. Before it was a matter of when we’d see him, not “if.” Our hearts went out to those families who got phone calls in the middle of the night. But our Shadow was okay, and we just wanted him home so we could look after him.

Needless to say, today is April 6 and not only do we have no idea when he’ll come home, but we haven’t heard from the breeder since Sunday (and that phone call took many tries and many hours to create as well). There are a half-dozen voicemails and several e-mails from us, but no information has made its way back.

Sleep has not come easy the past few nights. We are struggling to stay as optimistic as possible, but our hearts are breaking. For me, it feels like someone is pressing on my chest, squeezing harder by the minute. We want him home.

We have not yet met in person, but Shadow has taken a large chunk of our hearts. And like the bed in the corner of our living room and the water and food bowls in the kitchen, those hearts will remain empty until he finally gets here.