A Day At The Dog Park

We LOVE going to the dog park...

We get to visit some of our best friend, like Jackson-the Labradoodle ...

And Luna spends as much time talking to the dog people as she does to the dogs!

And there are balls to chase ... (bigger, cooler ones than the ones we have at home!) ...

And even hydrants to sniff ...

And this day there was the extra, added bonus of an acrobatic poodle to chase! (Harvey thought she was REALLY hot!)

Then before you know it we hear, "Harvey and Luna ... time to go!" and there's our mom with our leashes ready to take us back home ...

For our afternoon naps ...

Which we totally need after our VERY busy day at the Dog Park! (Now that we think about it, that's when our moms get most of their work done ... while we're having our post-dog-park naps ... maybe there's a connection there, ya think???)

Harvey: So today is St. Francis Day ...

Today is the feast day of St. Francis ... the guy who prayed for not just people but animals so we think he's pretty cool.

Turns out "The Blessing of the Animals" is something people do around this time of year in remembrance of him but we didn't get to go this year ... our moms said they were holding out for "The Exorcism of the Animals" and that wasn't on the All Saints calendar yet. But if I know my mom, it will be soon ... I think she's just about ready to try anything to keep Luna from tearing up stuff.

The only good thing about that is that most of my destructo-dog days are behind me and so she's in trouble a whole lot more than I am.

Of course, there was that incident the other night with the chicken bones in the trash can. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know ... if I've heard it once I've heard it a hundred times "chicken bones are bad for dogs ... they'll splinter in your stomach and poke holes in your insides and you'll be heading to Dog Heaven before you can say "Colonel Sanders Extra Crispy, please."

Whatever.

I think my mom Louise laid awake half the night listening for the sound of perforating innards but I'm just fine, thanks very much ... and if the truth be told, this was not the FIRST time I've eaten the dreaded chicken bones and lived. Not that I'm proud of it, mind you: but I'm an old dog and there are just so many "living on the edge" things left in my reach.

Which brings me back to Luna and her recent flurry of activity on the front porch. Don't know what possessed her to chew the seat off the patio chair that's been sitting in the same place minding its own business since she came to live with us nearly a year ago but one day last week it caught her eye and "whammo" ... shreds of chair were everywhere and it was a shadow of its former self. Which really bummed our mom Susan out ... she'd been watching one of those "makeover your house without breaking the bank" shows and got all inspired to move some stuff around on the porch, buy some new plants and get seat cushions to jazz things up a little.

Oh well.

I think someone told her to think of St. Francis and remember to keep her mind on things heavenly rather than things earthly but that wasn't exactly received as a helpful suggestion ... at that point the only heavenly thing she was thinking was how in heaven's name was she going to keep from Luna from destructing her decor.

More walks.

More trips to the dog park.

More time throwing the ball in the backyard.

And when all else fails ...

... more "time out" in the Gulag. (Then EVERYBODY can have a little peace!)

Speaking of which, I'm told that St. Francis is also remembered for his "Make us instruments of your peace" prayer and we'd sure like some progress to get happening on that so we can get our brother Jamie back here from Iraq because that's ANOTHER thing that makes our moms upset.

So here's to all creatures ... great, small and naughty. And here's to peace. And to St. Francis -- the patron saint of all those things. Amen.

Luna: Caught in the act!

Okay, okay, OOOKAY! You caught me in the act and I just don't know what possessed me this morning to start tearing apart the chaise lounge cushion. I love to sit on it! It was soft and comfy like the couch you keep throwing me off of. I don't know what happened. So, I went on the net and this is what I found. I hope it will help. I don't like being scolded. I'm a good dog at heart, really I am.

From DoggieProfessor.com:

It’s virtually inevitable that your puppy will, at some point, chew up something you value. This is part of raising a puppy! You can, however, prevent most problems by taking the following precautions:
Minimize chewing problems by puppy-proofing your house. Put the trash out of reach, inside a cabinet or outside on a porch, or buy containers with locking lids. Encourage children to pick up their toys and don’t leave socks, shoes, eyeglasses, briefcases or TV remote controls lying around within your puppy’s reach.

If, and only if, you catch your puppy chewing on something he shouldn't, interrupt the behavior with a loud noise, then offer him an acceptable chew toy instead and praise him lavishly when he takes the toy in his mouth.Make unacceptable chew items unpleasant to your puppy. Furniture and other items can be coated with "Bitter Apple" to make them unappealing.Don't give your puppy objects to play with such as old socks, old shoes or old children's toys that closely resemble items that are off-limits. Puppies can't tell the difference!

Closely supervise your puppy. Don’t give him the chance to go off by himself and get into trouble. Use baby gates, close doors or tether him to you with a six-foot leash so you can keep an eye on him. When you must be gone from the house, confine your puppy to a small, safe area such as a laundry room. You may also begin to crate train your puppy (see our handout: "Crate Training Your Dog"). Puppies under five months of age shouldn’t be crated for longer than four hours at a time, as they may not be able to control their bladder and bowels longer than that. Make sure your puppy is getting adequate physical activity. Puppies left alone in a yard don’t play by themselves. Take your puppy for walks and/or play a game of fetch with him as often as possible. Give your puppy plenty of "people time." He can only learn the rules of your house when he’s with you.

Gulag Dog

OK ... I'll be honest ... I don't know what I was thinking either. Its not like I don't have toys to play with, bones to eat and balls to chase. But after a couple of hours in the Gulag I'm looking for just about ANYTHING to keep me entertained and the other day what I found was the pillow in my crate where I used to sleep when I was little.

They put it out here in case I wanted to "crawl in and curl up" (one of my moms said) but honestly ... can you see me doing that at this point? I know they call it a "crate" but it feels like a cage to me.

Which brings me to the whole "dog run" issue. "Dog RUN" my foot ... have you ever tried to actually RUN in one of these? I don't care how they try to spin it ... it's a jail and that's why Harvey and I call it The Gulag.

And last Sunday when they said, "Be a good girl: guard the house while we go to church" I figured a couple of hours and I'd be out chasing cats again.

But Nooooooo ...Turns out there was more stuff going on over at All Saints about the IRS (whatever that is) that involved CNN, CBS, ABC and a bunch of other letters I don't even remember and took a REALLY long time ... much longer than a regular Sunday morning, which we're used to by now, but really!

So at this point all I can say is I'm sorry about the IRS and I really do get that sometimes there's more work than there is time to do it and I'll TRY to stick to the tennis balls and the rawhide bones but I can really only be so responsible for what happens if they leave me alone TOOOO long. So I'll work on the not-chewing-up-everything-in-sight if they work on getting home at a decent hour ... IRS or no IRS!

Deal or No Deal?

Iz-Thata-Wolf?

Like I said, I love the dog park and one of the things I like to do -- in addition to running, chasing, biting and jumping -- is listen to the people. It's amazing what they talk about when they think the dogs aren't listening ... not just about their work and the weather and what a lousy job the president is doing but sometimes they actually talk about interesting stuff: like us dogs!

One of the things I hear ALLLLLL the time when they're talking about dogs is "Iz-thata-wolf?" I finally figured out they were talking about ME! I guess I look more like a wolf than most of the dogs at the dog park even though I'm supposed to be a Malamute ... or at least that's what the Husky Camp people said we were.

So take a look at these pictures of some of my siblings ...








My mom had an AKC Alaskan Malamute before I was born (Cody ... she went to Jesus last November and my moms still miss her) and she says I'm actually a "Mala-Mutt" because there must be something else in there. So looking at my brothers and my sisters makes me wonder if maybe there WAS a wolf somewhere in the woodpile.
We are kind of a "wolfie-looking" bunch ... but my mom also found some stuff online about a kind of dog called MacKenzie River Huskies and after looking at pictures of them I think there just might be some family resemblence there, too ... Google them and see what you think!


And maybe I'll see you at the dog park one of these days ... I'll be wolfie looking one probably on my back getting my belly scratched by someone!

Luna: Long Time, No Blog

So it isn't that there hasn't been anything to blog about ... it's just that there hasn't been anything NEW to blog about. I've just been busy getting bigger and cuter everyday ... oh yeah, and chewing up stuff I'm not supposed to. But let's not get into that (unless you've got an extra Shop Vac filter lying around your garage you could let me have and get me off the hook for the one I shredded up this week -- bad choice, that one.)

On a happier note, we've also been going to the dog park a lot. My moms say it helps me and Harvey to run and get the ants out of our pants.

I'm not sure about that -- if I had any pants I would probably just chew them up -- but it IS fun to go run all you want and meet other dogs and their people.

When we first started going to the dog park, frankly it freaked me out. I mostly hid under my moms' feet and worried about the other dogs who wanted to come and play with me. They actually called me "The Omega Dog" which was kind of humiliating but it's hard to object too much when you're flat on your back hoping someone will scratch your bellly.

So here's the other thing about the dog park: the people. They're the best. Nothing like a park full of people who care enough about their dogs to bring them to the dog park and hang out with each other while we run around and chase each other.

We love the dog park. And it does seem to be cutting down on those ants.

Where's OUR vacation?

Our moms were on vacation at the beach for a week and even though we got to go to our favorite place -- I Dig My Dog -- we hate it when they go away and leave us. And to add insult to injury, they come home and show us pictures so we see all the fun we missed.















Neither of us has actually even BEEN to the beach ... well, if Harvey has it's been so long ago that he's forgotten ... but who knew there were not only birds to chase ...


... but that there was going to be all this FOOD to eat. Who was there to eat the leftovers is what WE want to know! (That's the only thing wrong with Doggie Day Camp ... no leftovers!)

Luna: Which Twin Has The Toni?

My moms have been emailing with the families who adopted my brothers and sisters and we just got this new picture of my sister Kami the other day -- boy howdy do we look alike or WHAT??? Hard to stay crabby at a face like this (thank goodness!)








I wonder if they call Kami "destructo dog" at her house, too? Think maybe I just won't be bringing that up -- I heard them talking the other day about "letting sleeping dogs lie" and I'm thinking that's a good policy on shoes, slippers, throw rugs, pot holders and ... oh yeah ... the hummingbird feeder. (What was I thinking????)

Harvey & Luna : Sad, sad news.

It is with great sadness that, today, we learned of the passing of Susan Butcher from leukemia. She fought a good fight. Susan was a role model for our mom, Louise. She was one of those women who broke the men-only glass ceiling in her field. Our mom met Susan when she worked for ABC Wide World of Sports when they covered the Iditarod Sled Dog Race in Alaska. Like our mom, Susan adored her dogs. When my Mom's husky, Gypsy, was diagnosed with liver cancer, Susan refered them to her vet in Huntington Beach where they still have a state of the art cancer treatment facility for dogs and cats. Our thoughts and prayers are with her husband Dave, and her two girls, ages 10 and 5. Susan is now at rest from her greatest race.

From the ABC News website:

4-Time Iditarod Champion Susan Butcher Dies at 51 From Reoccurrence of Leukemia

By JEANNETTE J. LEE Associated Press Writer
The Associated Press

ANCHORAGE, Alaska - Four-time Iditarod champion Susan Butcher, who in 1986 became the race's second female winner and brought increased national attention to its grueling competition, has died. She was 51. Butcher died Saturday in a Seattle hospital of a reoccurrence of leukemia after a recent stem-cell transplant, her doctor said.

She dominated the 1,100-mile sled dog race from Anchorage to Nome in the late 1980s. Her other victories came in 1987, '88 and '90, and she finished in the top four through 1993. "What she did is brought this race to an audience that had never been aware of it before simply because of her personality," Iditarod spokesman Chas St. George said.

Read the rest here

Harvey: On Damage Patrol

There's no question I have the worst rep in this family when it comes to trashing things ... they're still withholding my allowance to cover the garage door, kitchen door molding and three window screens that were my fault. But I'm not the only one around here with some destruction issues and to prove the point I went on a little damage patrol mission yesterday. Exhibit A (above) is Miss "Butter Won't Melt in Her Mouth" Luna lounging under her latest masterpiece of deconstruction: they better not blame me for this one.

And then there was this crime scene: we don't even need to call in CSI on this one -- there's Walden hair all over this new hole in the front window screen. I think they should change his name from Walden to Houdini ... he seems to be able to escape from anywhere.

Some people think our moms are nuts to put up with us and some of those people are even in our own family. Before he left for Kuwait Jamie was shaking his head about some thing or the other one or the other of us had done and my mom said, "You must be wondering at this point why we put up with them." And he said, "No, actually I quit wondering that quite awhile back but I figure you must have a reason."

I'm not sure what the reason is but I'm sure glad they do!

With Sighs Too Deep For Words

Our mom had this picture of Walden up on HER blog and we asked to borrow it because it really does pretty much say it all about how sucky the news is right now and how helpless we all feel about what's going on in the world that the humans seem determined to mess up more and more every day.

Luna: Hunka' Hunka' Burning Bear

Perhaps if Barney reaches out to the bear community, he can get to the bottom of his rage.

Dog Destroys Elvis' Teddy Bear at Museum
Aug 2, 10:07 PM (ET)

LONDON (AP) - A guard dog has ripped apart a collection of rare teddy bears, including one once owned by Elvis Presley, during a rampage at a children's museum.
"He just went berserk," said Daniel Medley, general manager of the Wookey Hole Caves near Wells, England, where hundreds of bears were chewed up Tuesday night by the 6-year-old Doberman pinscher named Barney.
Barney ripped the head off a brown stuffed bear once owned by the young Presley during the attack, leaving fluffy stuffing and bits of bears' limbs and heads on the museum floor. The bear, named Mabel, was made in 1909 by the German manufacturer Steiff.
The collection, valued at more than $900,000, included a red bear made by Farnell in 1910 and a Bobby Bruin made by Merrythought in 1936.
The bear with Elvis connections was owned by English aristocrat Benjamin Slade, who bought it at an Elvis memorabilia auction in Memphis, Tenn., and had loaned it to the museum.
"I've spoken to the bear's owner and he is not very pleased at all," Medley said.
A security guard at the museum, Greg West, said he spent several minutes chasing Barney before wrestling the dog to the ground.

Luna: I'm Still Here!

She said it was the last straw and for a minute I thought she really meant it. It's not even like they even tasted that good or were much fun to chew but there they were ... my mom's new reading glasses right on the nightstand and she left me alone and bored while she went to take a shower and my OTHER mom was away at some retreat thing so there was nobody to play with and nobody to watch me and before I knew it there was a crunch-crunch-crunch and then a shriek-shriek-shriek and the glasses were history and I was SOOOO busted.

I mean, I was in REALLY big trouble ... this was MUCH worse than the garlic bread -- or even Jamie's going-away cake. I was out in the Gulag (that's what Harvey and I call the chain link dog run they put up for us) for a really long time when I overheard my mom on the phone ordering a new pair of glasses. Luckily for me there was some kind of warranty thing so I guess it could have been worse but for a minute there the conversation took an ugly turn when my mom started asking the reading glass lady if she wanted a dog. Cheap.

I figured she was kidding ... at least I HOPED she was kidding ... and I guess she was because eventually she took pity on me and let me out and fed me again and pretty much all was forgiven. And I'm going to try to be better ... I really am. But for now she's keeping the new glasses up on top of the bookcase which is really working out better for everybody concerned because they're still here ... and so am I!

Harvey & Luna: Cartoon Du Jour

Luna: Without a Trace

Everybody loves a mystery, especially at my house. One of my moms is addicted to all of those crime shows on tv. Rarely a night goes by when I don't hear that "ka-boom-boom" theme on a Law & Order show, especially SVU. Well, seems I created a real life mystery at our house last night. My mom Susan wanted garlic bread for dinner so she removed a loaf from the freezer, took it out of it's package and put it on the kitchen counter. Then she left the room. I couldn't believe it! She just left it there. In plain sight. At first, I thought she might be testing me. I wandered close to the counter, expecting her to dart around the corner and yell, "No, Luna"....a phrase I hear way too much, by the way...but she didn't. So, I went for it, the whole loaf and ran off with it. She didn't even chase me. Using my paws, I held it down and ate the whole thing. Dee-lish...as Chef Rachel Ray often says. (That's another of our favorite shows.) The best part: NOBODY CAUGHT ME. And here's the hysterical part: As I go back into the bedroom where they are packing bags for their vacation, I notice I have garlic butter all over my paws. So, I start licking it off. My mom Louise notices what I'm doing. "Why is Luna licking her paw?", she asks. They check me out and I just keep licking so they don't smell the garlic. Mom Susan even bends down and takes my paw in her hand to see if anything is wrong. "Did she burn it on the grill?", suggests Mom Louise. They actually think I'm dumb enough to jump up on the hot barbeque grill! Gees Louise! I'm still licking by the way. Now they are convinced I've burned myself. They go into the kitchen to see if there are telltale signs of my jumping up on the stove. They should know I'm smarter than that. I love my moms but they aren't very good detectives. Soon, they give up figuring out why I'm licking my paw. Time passes. The steaks are almost done on the grill. I'm lounging out on the patio with my mom Louise when Susan comes out and I can see the light bulb has gone off in her brain. "I know why Luna was licking her foot. It just dawned on me. The garlic bread is missing. I've been looking all over for it. I even doubled checked the freezor because I questioned whether I actually took it out or not. Luna stole the garlic bread off the counter and ATE IT! She didn't burn her paw. She had garlic butter all over it!" Well, I was busted. I tried to pretend I didn't know what she was talking about. But, be honest, how stupid were they? It wasn't my fault that they left the bread there unattended where I could easily steal it. I thought about trying some "bread of life" excuse but I knew mom Susan wouldn't absolve me. Once again, I was put behind bars to pay for my crime....but, hey, I got a good laugh on them. And isn't that what a dog's life is all about?

Luna: Looking At My Family Tree

This is my dog dad ...


It's a really hot day and nobody felt like throwing a ball or going to the dog park or anything so my mom was going through the "my pictures" file on the computer and showed me these pictures she found from my "family tree":










And this is my dog mom ...

And this is me! Which doggie-tree do you think this little apple fell the closest to ... my mom or my dad? (I think I look a little like both of them!)

Harvey: So How Fair is THIS???

I mean, really -- I know there are cat rules and then there are dog rules but these cats are out of control. We barely put our NOSE up on the counter to check out whether there's a scrap left for us to nibble on or some crumbs that need cleaning up and it's "OFF! -- Bad Dog -- Outside" and the next thing you know you're out in the noon day sun where everybody knows only mad dogs and Englishmen go willingly and I'm neither.

(OK -- I get a little crazy with the fireworks ... the whole world seems to know about THAT now, but I'm not exactly "mad" ... at least not in the mad dogs and Englishmen sense of the word.)

So I digress -- I'm thinking the occasional doggie nose on the counter is not NEARLY such a big deal as these cats who seem to think they own the world, jump on and off the counter at will and then hiss and swat at you when all you do is just walk by them minding your own business. Maybe we could get a little email letter-writing campaign going -- our moms seem to pay attention to those -- they're not paying a BIT of attention to us about this at the moment and I'm sayin' it's a justice issue.

Luna: I don't ALWAYS chase the cats!

I think some people around here (who will remain nameless or they'll take this blog away from me) are suffering from some unrealistic expectations. I mean really ... I'm a puppy, OK? I know I've gotten pretty big and I kind of LOOK like a grown up dog but I'm not even EIGHT MONTHS OLD YET! All the dog books say you can't expect me to quit chewing things and being my wild child self for at least another six months or so.

That said, I wanted to share this picture as a ray of hope that I actually WILL settle down someday ... and as a case-in-point that I don't spend ALL my time chasing the cats (who deserve it some of the time, but that's for another blog) and that sometimes we just curl up and take a nice nap in the same place at the same time and nobody gets hurt. Or chased. Or hissed at.

All for now. Time for my siesta -- and since it's supposed to be 105 here in Pasadena siestas are the only thing on my agenda du jour -- it's already too hot to even muster up the energy to go looking for more shoes to chew!

Harvey: Another Miracle Story

You've all probably heard about how my brother, Walden, is a miracle cat. While he was on "special assignment" at our friend Hope's house to catch a pesky rat in her kitchen, he bolted out the only open window by pushing out the screen. Then he was lost for a month. He managed to elude a cute "pet detective" and her blood hound, Ellie Mae, who searched the entire neighborhood and caught his scent but not him. (I bet he was hiding out and watching and laughed himself silly at my mom, Louise, chasing the pet detective and the bloodhound, wearing the sound detector headset and a bright orange pet rescue jacket.) Anyway, a nice couple who had seen the "Lost Cat" signs found Walden about two miles from Hope's house. They say he was on his way back to our place....but frankly, I find that a little too "Incredible Journey"-Disney-movie-ish myself. I think he was just plain lost. But, it was a happy ending for all. Here's another story with a happy ending for a dog. Enjoy.

Missing dog found nearly a week after plane crash

Somis, Calif. (AP) --
Six days after a small plane crash that killed two members of a family four, the family's missing dog was found alive by the same pair of teenage brothers who first helped the survivors.
Family friends had been searching for Lindsey, a 9-year-old Dalmation who had been on the plane but was not found at the crash site.
"We were called loonies," said Bob Jansen, who along with his wife Shirley had spent much of the week looking for Lindsey. "They told us we were searching for a dead dog."
Rene Herrera, 17, and his brother Edgar Herrera, 15, had returned to the scene 35 miles north of Los Angeles Friday to show friends the place where they had pulled Robert Santoro, 43, and his 7-year-old son Dawson away from the flaming plane on July 1.
The brothers and their friends saw Lindsey in a ditch.
"We all started running towards the dog," Rene Herrera said. "We all took turns cradling it like a baby and we took it home."
The dog had a ruptured diaphragm and a broken leg, and underwent surgery at a Santa Barbara animal hospital Saturday, Jansen said.
Robert Santoro, who was flying the plane and was thrown from the aircraft along with Dawson before it came to rest, remained in critical condition in a Santa Barbara hospital after nearly having his leg severed in the crash, authorities said.
Karen Santoro, 43, and 5-year-old son Ian were killed.
Dawson Santoro had only minor injuries.
"The family's gone through hell on earth, and this is one tiny bright spot," Jansen said. "We can give the family a 55-pound piece of good news."

Harvey & Luna: Keep Casper in your prayers

Girl and pet dog share same cancer ordeal
Daily Mail July 10,2006

When little Emily Kearney was diagnosed with cancer, her parents decided to get her the dog she had always wanted to help her through.
They heard about Casper, an adorable Yorkshire terrier who needed rehoming, and immediately fell in love with him.
When six-year-old Emily came home after five months of intensive chemotherapy for Burkitt's lymphoma, the two became inseparable and Casper gave her the strength to beat the disease.
Now six years on, in an extraordinarily cruel coincidence, Casper has been diagnosed with the same cancer that Emily had.
Just as he did for her when she was ill, Emily, now 12, is making sure the dog she calls her 'brother' has all the love in the world to help him get better.
Me and Emily just broke down when we heard," her mother Jackie, 42, said.
"When I was told about Emily's lymphoma it was like having your insides ripped out and when I was told about Casper, briefly I got that same feeling.
"Emily was heartbroken, we have to reassure her that he's going to get better. I said: "You've done it, you've survived."
I think it reassures her, the fact that she can compare his with hers and she knows she survived."
Emily was diagnosed with lymphoma in February 2000 after her mum took her to the dentist because one of her adult teeth was loose.
Tests discovered a tumour on her jaw then more in her stomach and kidney and she was sent straight to Newcastle's Royal Victoria Infirmary to start her treatment.
But after nearly five months of chemotherapy, Emily returned to the family home in Sunderland and her mother and father Mark, 44, decided to get a dog to help her recover.
"Emily has always loved dogs and always dreamed of having one but we couldn't really get one because we both worked," said Mrs Kearney.
"My mum has always had dogs so she's been around them since she was a baby. When she was in hospital, obviously no dogs could visit so we put up a picture of her nana's dog and our neighbour's dog to make her feel better.
"We decided to get her a dog when she came out, even if it meant I had to cut down on my hours, to help her recover."
Mrs Kearney, a classroom support assistant, and her husband, a painter and decorator, both work for the Tyne and Wear Autistic Society.
They heard about Casper through a kennel in Hartlepool. His owner's personal circumstances had changed and he needed a new home.
He arrived two weeks after Emily came home and the pair hit it off from the start.
Diagnosis
Casper, now ten, was diagnosed with lymphoma two weeks ago after Mrs Kearney noticed a lump on his neck.
They have been told his prognosis is good.
He goes to Roker Park Veterinary Practice once a week, where a drip is put in his paw and he is given intravenous chemotherapy treatment and has tablets every other day.
Casper is treated with cyclophosphamide to try to reduce the tumour on his neck - the same drug that Emily was given.
"I'm an only child so he's my brother and I'm his sister," Emily said. "He's been heaven sent. It was great when we got him. He made me so happy. He helped me to recover.
"I was heartbroken when he got ill. I make sure I give him lots of attention and cuddles. I feel like it's going to be all right."
Mrs Kearney added: "I always say he found us. He would snuggle up to Emily in front of the fire. Even for myself and my husband he was a focus. He's an absolute sweetheart. We love him to bits."
Burkitt's lymphoma is a type of Non-Hodgkins lymphoma which affects lymphocytes - a type of white blood cell - which are found in the blood and in lymph glands.
There are about 32 cases of Burkitt's lymphoma in children a year in the UK.
There is not any connection between Emily and Casper's illnesses.
The Kearneys scoured rescue homes for a suitable pet for their daughter.
"We wanted a mature dog who was good with children, happy to be left at home and who was small enough for Emily to carry. We couldn't find anything right and then out of the blue a kennel called us about Casper.
"Emily had not met him until he came to visit us one Sunday and he never left. He ran up the stairs as soon as he came in and his owner said, 'He's happy here. This is the right place for him.'
"He's such a lovely dog and we spoil him rotten. He's hand-fed and likes sausages and bacon."
Casper's treatment, which is due to last two months, is expected to cost £1,000. The family do not have pet insurance.
"I couldn't care less if it was £1,000 a week, I would still pay it," said Mrs Kearney.