Noodle the schnauzer was my beloved pal - and secret diabetes weapon

Last week, our darling miniature schnauzer, Noodle Rush, passed away.

It was a sudden and painful death, and since she was my first dog, heartbreaking in a way that I had never experienced before.

Noodle was a best friend, a constant companion, and my partner in Type 2 diabetes care. She wasn't trained as a therapy dog and didn't do any fancy tricks as some trained therapy dogs do. She didn't know when my sugar was high or fetch glucose tablets or little boxes of orange juice if I was running low.

But, though she didn't have diabetes, she always had a little bit of a weight issue and we both felt and looked better when we adhered to our meal plans — two cups of kibble per day for her, low-carb for me — and took regular walks.

A dear friend once told me that if you have a dog, you never have a weight problem. While that isn't completely true, it was true that Noodle kept my step count honest five times a day. (I know that seems like a lot of times to walk a dog, but I didn't say she wasn't spoiled.)

During her walks, she liked to take a look around her neighborhood to make certain no bossy squirrels or rabbits had gotten too uppity on her watch. Indoors, her sharp little bark — which signaled I needed to get up from my work and check on her — worked better than a standing desk to ensure I didn't stay seated for too long. Even when I was tied to the computer, on deadline, that bark got me out of my chair and outside — a good thing for my legs, my head, and my diabetes.

The walks were hardly aerobic. Noodle was a sniffer and spent far more time with her nose to the ground than covering it. These strolls didn't substitute for my daily recumbent biking or twice-weekly weight-lifting classes, but they added a little fillip to my exercise routine, just enough so — as my friend had suggested — my weight came down five pounds during Noodle's time in my care.

But exercise wasn't the only benefit of our perambulations: I often timed my blood glucose testing to Noodle's schedule. Ten a.m., 2 p.m., and 8 p.m. worked out to precisely two hours after breakfast, lunch, and dinner, so before I leashed her up, I pricked my finger and took my blood sugar readings.

It was better than any alarm.

Noodle was a stress reliever, too. After a frustrating afternoon putting words together and taking them apart, a quick game of fetch was exactly what both of us needed, for my sugars and for her endless amusement.

She also was a persuasive beggar. Although I knew I shouldn't, I always saved little healthy bits from my plate for her, cutting down on calories for me.

At night, after her 9 p.m. walk, we gathered together in the kitchen for our ritual bedtime snack — for me, a handful of nuts; for her, her beloved dried chicken strips. It was a time for ear and belly rubs and another way to de-stress, which pleased her and helped keep my sugars on an even keel.

Last week, after she passed at the age of 13, I got the results of my latest A1C test. My results have been particularly good this year, but I was stunned to find that my last test read 5.7 — a reading in the "normal" range. Of course, this is with medication and a lot of hard work, but it was difficult for me not to thank Noodle for her part in my good health. She wasn't a trained therapy dog, but while she lived, she was great therapy for me.

Ilene Raymond Rush is a health journalist who often writes about diabetes. Contact her at mice30@comcast.net.