Back to the Dog Park

Noah and his new girlfriend,Brandy

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Last year, our golden retriever, who was just three then, started acting like a much older dog. He was winded after a few Frisbee runs, had trouble leaping onto the back seat of one of our cars, slept a lot, and then started losing hair from his tail and neck.

We changed his diet, gave him cod liver oil, olive oil, and concocted exotic drinks suitable for human consumption that we shared with him. Nothing worked. Then he developed an ear infection and we took him to our vet, a genius whose diagnoses are rarely wrong. He looked at Noah’s ears, then at his balding tail.

“Thyroid,” he said, and conducted a blood test.

Sure enough, the blood test revealed a low thyroid. Noah is now on the canine version of synthroid. A pill twice a day. In just three weeks, the difference in his energy is astounding. He runs faster, is more competitive at the dog park, chases away doggy thieves who sneak in to grab his ball. He also seems to have developed a crush on Brandy, a female mixed breed who jumps higher than he does to catch a ball.  That’s her in the photo above, looking up and watching a high ball that Rob threw her.

Noah, who was fixed when we got him, now humps Brandy  at every opportunity.  When she runs to chase a ball, he races alongside side her, trying to reach the ball first. People at the dog park who know him have commented about it.

Wow, what has gotten into Noah?

This is how he was two years ago with Cody!

Does he ever get worn out?

The thyroid gland controls how quickly the body uses energy, makes proteins, and controls how sensitive the body is to other hormones. Energetically, it’s centered in the fifth chakra – the throat area – communication.  I’ve noticed that since Noah has been on the thyroid meds, his barks tend to be louder, like explosive booms. Sometimes, he sounds like a hound at the  hunt.  

Golden retrievers are generally known as people friendly dogs who seek human company, seek out human touch and companionship, another form of communication. Noah has never been that kind of golden, probably because he was crated for the first nine months of his life. His previous owners intended to use him as a stud and gave him up when they ran into financial problems.

Yet, since he has been on the thyroid med, he is much less timid about approaching people. Just this afternoon, he went over to Jen, Brandy’s owner, and nudged her, asking for a pat on the head.  Of course, maybe he figures if he can get on her good side, Brandy will be more amenable to chasing him instead of that ball!

We took him back to the vet for a checkup and is thyroid level has gone from .5 to 7 in just four weeks. Normal, the vet says, falls around 4. His fur is growing back, lustrous and thick.

There’s no synchro in this story, no aliens, nothing conspiratorial. Noah has simply reminded me that our animal companions aren’t just ornaments that decorate our lives. They are beings whose inner, emotional lives are as rich – or richer than- our own. They have desires, needs, and longings we can’t fathom. 

Most people I know, for instance, think squirrels are cute or annoying or mischievous little devils. But if you stand in the middle of a dog park and shout, SQUIRREL, nearly every dog will stampede to where you’re standing, looking for that squirrel. They not only understand that word, they react to it.

For a dog, squirrel may represent what for us would be an adrenaline rush – skydiving, that first innocent kiss, winning a marathon, a tennis match, a game of chess. Or, squirrel to a dog may just be synonymous with the thrill of the chase, of running free beneath a vast blue sky.

Since we share our lives with Noah, we are energetically linked to him and vice versa.  So, symbolically, I’m wondering about the thyroid message.  Perhaps it’s saying that we should do more of what we enjoy, what thrills us, what makes us feel as if we are perpetually running free beneath that vast blue sky.

If Rob and I start howling at the moon, you’ll know we got the message.