Dogless

I'm not certain that I am ready to do this just yet.  As I began writing this, the tears started.....again. 

In 1997 I was down to one dog, Cassidy.  In the fall, with the help from a friend, I managed to catch a neighborhood dog who had been roaming our street for over a month.  He was extremely timid, but would kiss my face and let me pet him, with one hand only.  I named him Caleb.  Shortly after catching Caleb, I had to euthanize Cassidy due to a large cancerous tumor. 

Because Caleb was so timid, I thought another dog would help him become less shy.  When I took Caleb to my vet and mentioned this idea to him, he told me they had a 5 month old puppy that needed a home.  The puppy had been brought to him by a woman who was moving out of town.  As this woman was leaving her bank, after closing her account, she noticed a car ahead of her slow down and throw a puppy out of the car.  Fortunately she stopped and picked up the pup.  She was near the vet's office and took the puppy there, not knowing what else to do with her.  My vet, Dr. Ken Sundberg, agreed to help find her a home.  He spayed and vaccinated her, and Celie became part of my family in early 1998.  Within a few months I rescued two more dogs from the street - Cuinn and Cordelia. 

Life with the four of them had its ups and downs but, for the most part, the ups far outweighed the downs.  Now, all of them are gone.  Celie was a lab/chow mix.  She was 15 years old.  In the past year she developed fatty tumors on her stomach and behind her right front leg.  She also suffered from degenrative disc disease, and had a couple of episodes where she had trouble walking.  With some medication she pulled through those occurrences.  She was, however, slowing down.  Her sight wasn't as good as it once was and neither was her hearing.  Although she had always tended to ignore me when I called her.  Lately she even did it occasionally when it was dinner time. 

Friday morning (Feb 9th) I knew something was wrong.  I have to admit that after losing Cordelia last year, I knew Celie's time with me was coming to an end as well.  Celie woke me up before 5AM to go outside.  I let her out and she stayed out longer than usual.  Then around 7AM, she asked to go out again.  When I called her to come in she was lying in the yard, not by the back door as she usually did.  She looked at me from the yard but wouldn't get up.  She had never just laid down in the yard and I began to worry.  I walked out to her, about 40 feet from the door, and I coaxed her to get up.  I started walking back to the door and she followed for about 2 steps and then stopped.  I came back to her and had to walk along side her to get her all the way into the house.  As soon as she came in, she laid down on the floor, breathing heavily as though she had over exerted herself.  My internal alarm bells were ringing loudly. 

I was on a deadline at work and had to get everything completed for a couple of mailings, so I couldn't miss work.  I continued to get ready to leave.  When I was about to leave, Celie had moved to the living room rug.  I found two piles of diarrhea.  Obviously she was sick.  I put her back outside, cleaned up the messes and called the vet.  Although their schedule was full, I was told I could bring her in at 5:30.  It was obvious that her back legs were giving her trouble when I brought her back inside.  When I left Celie was lying on her side in the kitchen.  Needless to say, throughout the day I continued to worry about her and wonder what I would be coming home to.

I had noticed a month or so ago that Celie seemed to have put on weight and was concerned, so I had taken her to the vet at that time.  Her weight had not changed significantly.  The vet didn't think the fatty tumors had gotten larger since her last visit, and pronounced her fine. 

I left work about an hour early.  Celie was in the living room when I arrived.  She had two more "accidents" in the kitchen during the day.  I let her outside again.  When she came back in, I offered her a treat, as I had always done.  She wasn't interested, which was unusual.  I sometimes thought she only went outside so she could get a treat when she came back in.  Not this time.

Before leaving for the vet, we walked over to Barbara's house.  Celie, as always, was happy to see her and busily wagged her tail.  Of my four dogs, Celie had always been Barb's favorite.  Barb had gone with me when I had taken both Celie and Cordelia to training classes.  She worked with Celie and I worked with Cordelia (definitely the smarter of the two).  Then off we went to the vet.  Dr. Porter checked her out and although he was concerned about the tightness in her abdomen, prescribed medication for her diarrhea and a probiotic.  She wasn't to be fed on Friday night.  That wasn't a problem because she simply wasn't interested in eating.  In fact, the most telling sign is that she had no interest in cleaning up any remains in the cat food dishes.  She had always raced to get to them as quickly as possible. 

I have to say that I had figured Dr. Porter would tell me that Celie had stomach cancer when I took her in.  With the prescriptions, I found a ray of hope.  She just wasn't feeling well and we'd get through this.  It wasn't her "time" yet.  Deep sigh of relief.  He did ask, at the time, whether or not she had been vomiting, which she hadn't.  However, after giving her the medication for the diarrhea, she threw up within about 30 minutes.  I chose not to give her the probiotic.

There were no accidents overnight.  She went outside and came in, but still only sniffed at the treat.  I gave her the medicine and within 10 minutes, she threw up again.  I called the vet to clear up confusion about administering the meds and to let Dr. Porter know that she was now vomiting and not interested in food.  I got a call back in a few minutes and was told that Dr. Porter wanted to do blood work and x-rays so I should bring her in then.  They would work us in between other appointments. 

When the young vet tech came to take her into the back for the diagnostics, she balked and didn't want to go.  I walked along with them and she went more easily.  I went outside to smoke a cigarette and thought that the x-ray should be done first.  If it showed what I suspected, blood work would be a waste of time and money.  When I returned inside, another vet assistant told me they were doing the x-rays and depending upon the results may not need to send out the blood to the lab. 

Needless to say, the x-rays confirmed my worst fear.  Dr. Porter apparently had come to the same conclusion between her Friday visit and the next morning.  Celie had an enormous mass in her spleen, to the point that it could burst at any time and cause internal hemorrhaging. He recommended putting her down, then and there.  My problem was that I had been ready to hear this news Friday evening and when I didn't I had become optimistic that this was simply an episode we could treat.  I wasn't ready to give up and give in.  Dr. Porter was amazingly patient with me as we talked through this.  In the end I didn't want to witness her suffering with little I could do to ease her pain.  Worse yet, I would have to manage to get her into the car and take her to another vet at the Emergency Clinic to have her euthanized.  I have had to do that with other animals and, although, the staff at the Emergency Clinic had been kind and understanding it wasn't my preferred option. 

I made the decision to put her down.  The three of us, Celie, myself and Dr. Porter sat on the floor of the examining room while he injected the anesthetic and then the Fatal Plus that would end her life - forever.  She went peacefully as I held her.  I made arrangements with Terry, the truly kind owner of Pine Castle Pet Crematory, to bring her to him for cremation.  I know it was the right decision to make, but it never gets easier no matter how many times I've gone through this. 

Regardless of the sorrow that accompanies the loss of a loved and cherished dog or cat, I do not regret having taken them into my life and heart.  The joy is so much greater and longer lasting than the pain of loss.  Although I miss each and every one of those who are gone, I am glad they were a part of my life, of who I am.  I cannot understand people who say they loved their dog or cat and cannot get another after losing that dog or cat.  The lives who are extinguished for no other reason than they don't have a home weighs heavily upon me, each and every day.  These dogs, cats, puppies and kittens deserve a chance to love and be loved.  They deserve to experience joy, good food, attention, hugs, play time and everything else they need to lead full lives.  Who better to provide these things than the very people who have had cherished companion animals?  What better way to affirm the lives lost than to extend those same experiences to those who are unwanted?  For me, it's a way to pay tribute to those who have come before.  Share your love with another - both you and the animal you save will reap the benefits for however long each of you have left. 

It has been about 36 years since there hasn't been at least one dog in my life.  Although I have more than my share of cats, I know that sometime in the near future there will be another dog.  During those 36 years, I haven't had to go looking for a dog - one or more have always seemed to find me. 

Below is an old photo of Celie and Cordelia - The Girls:

DECEMBER, 2009 – JANUARY 9, 2013

       The last couple of years have been a bit difficult for me.

1. DECEMBER, 2009 – Caleb has tumor removed from his intestine
2. JANUARY 1, 2010      – went into hospital due to a cat bite on my foot
3. FEBRUARY 25, 2010 – Clark euthanized (11 years old)
4. MARCH 19, 2010 – Charlotte euthanized (9 years old)
5. JULY 30, 2010 – Cammie euthanized (15 years old)
6. AUGUST – SEPTEMBER, 2010 – me back in hospital for 5 surgeries, including a skin graft
7. DECEMBER 10, 2010 – Chase found dead (7 years old)
8. FEBRUARY 12, 2011 – Chaz euthanized (12 years old)
9. MARCH 11, 2011 – Colin euthanized (rescued from the street 1998 – adult cat)
10. APRIL 22, 2011  - Caleb euthanized (15 years old DOG)
11. MAY 21, 2011 – Cagney rescued from the street
12. JUNE 14, 2011 – Charlie euthanized (12 years old)
13. JUNE 24, 2011 – Cissy euthanized (16 years old)
14. NOVEMBER 11, 2011 – Claudia euthanized (rescued from Animal Services 2005 – older cat)
15. NOVEMBER 28, 2011 – Campbell has all teeth removed
16. DECEMBER 12, 2011 – Colt euthanized (8 years old)
17. JANUARY 12, 2012 – Courtney euthanized (13 years old)
18. FEBRUARY 16, 2012 – Cordelia euthanized (14 years old DOG)
19. FEBRUARY, 2012 – Cashew (kitten) + Contessa (about 1 year old) rescued from street
20. JUNE 29, 2012 - Chandler euthanized (13 years old)
21. AUGUST 2, 2012 – Crockett had all his teeth removed
22. JANUARY 9, 2013 – Cassandra having surgery to remove all of her teeth

Prior to having to put so many of these cats and dogs to sleep, there were extensive veterinary bills for treatment in an effort to save or, at least, prolong their lives.  It's not just about "pocketbook" issues but also the emotional distress that goes along with dealing with watching so many cherished loved ones die.  

While I know that most, if not all, of these animals would have died long before had I not brought them into my home, my life and my heart, it stills takes a toll.  My own health struggles helped erode my coping skills as well.  These were choices which I made and, therefore, are mine alone to bear.  

My apologies to friends if I've been more short tempered or less communicative in the past couple of years.  It's not always easy to exude sunshine and roses through personal trials and tribulations.  

Goodbye

Well, I have lost two more of my fur babies, Courtney and Cordelia.  Obviously, it’s been a tough year and a half.  So many of my animals came into my home within a about a two year span of time.  I brought them in without a thought to the extra burden and cost of increasing the size of my herd.  To me, it was a matter of life and death for them and I simply couldn’t turn away. 

I euthanized Courtney on January 12^th.  She had been given a diagnosis in December that limited how long she would survive.  Because of all of the ones that proceeded her, I didn’t take her to the vet when she started breathing noisily.  I initially thought it was an upper respiratory infection.  I used my go to remedy, the Vicks vaporizer.  It didn’t work.  She wasn’t sneezing, her eyes and nose weren’t runny.  Deep down I knew it was something else, something that I hadn’t encountered previously.  I took her to my vet and she was diagnosed with upper respiratory and given clavamox.  I told the vet I didn’t feel it was an upper respiratory infection, but that was the diagnosis.  I took her back a few week s later, having only succeeded in getting one dose down her.  She spent about a week at the vet’s office, being treated for a bad eye infection that was the result of her nasal area becoming seriously swollen.  She was also treated for an upper respiratory infection.  When I brought her home, the swelling had decreased a bit, her eye was better but the “snurfling/snoring” sound that had originally alerted me that there was a problem.  In a few weeks I took her to a specialist.  She was given a “CAT scan.”  The diagnosis was what I had expected all along – nasopharyngeal cancer.  There was nothing that could be done.  Since she was still eating, I took her home.  That was on December 29^th.  On January 12^th, she had seizures and I rushed her to my vet to put her down.  No doubt that the cancer had reached her brain and caused her seizures.  

 Courtney came into my life when I trapped her and her littermates, Chaz, Charlie and Charlise.  Her littermates tamed up pretty quickly and became little love muffins.  Courtney just wouldn’t come around.  I was pretty new to taming feral kittens and I didn’t always succeed.  I kept these kittens instead of taking them back to where they were trapped because I had trapped another sister earlier.  I got her spayed and returned her.  She died within a week.  I felt horribly guilty and didn’t want the same fate for these little ones.  When Chaz came down with something soon after I had fixed the entire litter, I took them to my vet.  The diagnosis was calicivirus.  Little did I know the far reaching effects of this disease.  After about a year, Courtney surprised me one day by rolling over on the bed and exposing her belly.  There is nothing more tempting to me than the soft tummy of a kitty.  She let me rub her belly, her soft, soft fur.  With no further ado, she was tame and for the rest of her life truly loved being petted and stroked.  She never became fond of being picked up and held, however.  In the last weeks of her life, however, she came to tolerate my holding her and seemed somewhat comforted by it.  Courtney would have been 13 this year. 

Cordelia crossed my path in 1998.  I was driving home from the hospital, having spent the night in the Sleep Disorder Clinic.  I was diagnosed with sleep apnea, having had electrodes stuck to my head.  As I drove down Orange Avenue I saw two dogs simply nonchalantly walking down the sidewalk.  It was around 7 AM and I knew traffic would pick up dramatically within an hour.  Cordelia was a tiny puppy, probably no more than 4 or 5 months old.  With her was a large dog who was marked like a Rottweiler but had long curly hair like a cocker spaniel.  He had a long linked chain that trailing behind him.  Needless to say, I pulled over and opened up the back of my Jeep.  I stepped on the chain to keep the larger dog from bolting and grabbed the puppy.  I put her in my car and she walked from the back to the front passenger seat and curled up on the pillow I had taken with me to the sleep clinic.  I picked up the other dog and put him in the car as well.  I already had two other dogs that I had rescued earlier at home.  We headed home and both dogs just chilled out as I drove.  Neither dog had any identification.  I tried to find the owner, placing an ad in the Found Classifieds in the paper, calling area vets and even talking to kids who lived in the neighborhood where I picked up both dogs.  No luck.  I felt certain that I could talk one of the rescue groups in Orlando to take them and find homes for them.  However, the large dog that I named Cuinn developed a cough.  When I took him to the vet, he was diagnosed with heartworms.  By the time I paid for his treatment and nursed him through it, I realized Cuinn was staying with me.  He and the puppy, whom I named Cordelia, were so bonded that I couldn’t stand the thought of separating them.  

This is Celia on the left & Cordelia on the right

  

Cordelia was named for a character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  That character was my least favorite character.  She was arrogant, nasty and downright mean.  My Cordelia had none of those characteristics, but she was a little devil dog.  She would constantly find a way to escape from the fence around the backyard.  And, it wasn’t just her.  She managed to bring everyone with her – Celie, Cuinn and even Caleb sometimes.  I live less than a block off Orange Avenue, which has really heavy traffic nearly 24/7.  Because she was an amazing escape artist, I decided to take her and her partner in crime, Celie, to obedience classes.  Cordelia was the best pupil.  She was the first to succeed at each training exercise.  I have had many dogs throughout my life who had varying degrees of intelligence, but Cordelia was, by far, the smartest dog I have ever known.  She outsmarted more times than I’d like to admit.  I don’t know her heritage, but it was pretty clear that she had pit bull in her.  Pitties have such a bad reputation.  Judging from Cordelia, that reputation is not deserved.  She loved everyone she met, she would take treats from me so gently and she was also gentle with the cats, often cleaning their ears or letting them groom her.  She was also one the silliest, goofiest dogs I’ve ever had.

Cordelia was diagnosed with lymphoma in November.  Unfortunately there was no way to treat this –neither surgery nor cancer treatment.  I had noticed lumps at the base of her lower jaw.  The vet found other masses in the other lymph nodes in her body.  We put her on pain meds and steroids, which helped somewhat.  In the last month it was obvious that she was going downhill.  Her energy level had diminished greatly and she wouldn’t finish her food each night.  The one thing she did look forward to was cleaning the cat bowls at dinner time.  I didn’t see any reason in prolonging this downhill slide and euthanized her on February 16^th.  When I dropped her body off at the crematory, I picked up Courtney’s ashes.  Cordelia's spirit and joy for life will stay with me as will her strength of character.  She was certainly one of a kind. 

Yes, Virginia, Nature abhors a vacuum

....or that other old adage:  the more things change, the more they stay the same.

 Out with the old year and in with new year.  I am moving forward, since there really isn't any other choice.  Courtney, who was diagnosed with nasopharyngeal carcinoma this past Thursday, Cordelia, with her lymphoma and Celie, diagnosed on Friday with degenerative disk disease, are doing well on their medications.  I'm planning to arrange to have all of Chatsworth's and Cassandra's bad teeth pulled in the next month or two.  Life goes on with me and my menagerie.

In the last few days I have spent a bit more time outside, cleaning up the yard and patio a bit.  Lo and behold a neighborhood cat that I have seen on a few occasions in the past year began hanging out near my driveway.  I've been in this house for 31 years and there have almost always been neighborhood cats.  I and my friend Barb have gotten them fixed over the years and each of us have taken in a few of them.  For me it was Cheech, Sonic, Chavez, Chewy, Ciji and Cinderella.  Ciji is still with me and I found a home for Cinderella.  The others passed on several years ago. 

The day after Barb and I first saw the gray tabby next door, I saw her again with a kitten.  The neighbor's intact white male, who freely roams the neighborhood, was checking out the kitten.  Neither the momma cat nor the kitten would let me touch them.  Momma seemed less wary and let me get within a couple of feet of her.  The kitten raced away whenever I was near.  I planned to trap them and get both fixed before more kittens appeared this spring.  I put out food to get them accustomed to eating at my house.  Well, then a black cat showed up too.  Due to the size of this cat, I figure this is another female.  So, I've been feeding the 3 of them for several days now.  I've been able to pet both Momma and the black cat.  Momma really likes to be petted and vocally gives me a lecture if I don't approach and rub her head.  She also lets me know that the food dish is empty and I need to fill it up.  The 3 of them have decided that they much prefer canned food to dry food.

I put down a dish of canned food this morning and while the 3 were eating, I decided to take a chance.  Of the three, the kitten was closest to me.  I bent down and picked her up.  To my surprise, she didn't struggle at all.  I petted her for only a minute or two and then gently lowered her to the food.  She proceeded to eat.  No harm, no foul.  I may not need to trap after all.  So later today I'll be calling to arrange surgeries for them all, and will hopefully be able to get them in later this week. 

I certainly wasn't looking for any more cats, but I apparently have 3 new friends.  Maybe if I actually ran my vacuum more often I could nullify that "natural vacuum effect."

Another Death in the Family

The last 2 years have taken a toll on me and my furry family.  I began 2010 in the hospital due to a cat bite on my foot.  The day after Christmas 2009 I stepped on Claudia in the dark.  She retaliated – naturally – by biting me.  Due to my diabetes, my doctor was concerned that it could develop into something serious, so on New Year’s Day as the redness spread, I checked myself into the hospital.  After lots of antibiotics, I went home in about a week. 

On February 25^th, the day after my 60^th birthday, I put Clark to sleep.  Less than a month later, on March 19^th, I put Charlotte to sleep.  A few months later, on July 30^th, I put Cammie to sleep.  I was concerned about Charlie as the year was winding down.  He was eating plenty but was losing weight.  The vet couldn’t find anything in his blood work to determine what ailed him.  Then on December 10^th, when I went into the cat room to clean litter boxes and feed, I found Chase’s body. 

In between Cammie’s and Chase’s deaths, I spent 23 days in the hospital for what began as an infected cyst in my right breast.  I developed necrotizing fasciitis (flesh eating bacteria) and had 4 surgeries to stop the infection from spreading.  I ended up losing half my right breast and all but a small area of the skin.  Once released, I returned to the hospital daily for treatments in the hyperbaric oxygen chamber.  That lasted into early 2011.  I had a skin graft, which removed a large area of skin from my right thigh.  Most of the graft took, leaving a small area with exposed tissue.  I had 13 derma grafts to encourage skin growth.  The area finally closed up and I was released by the doctor in May or June – memory fails me now.  My health had taken a back seat to my efforts to keep many cats alive.

Chaz was the first to go on February 12^th, 2011.  About a month later, Colin unexpectedly took a turn for the worse and was euthanized on March 18^th.  About 2 weeks later, Caleb, one of my three dogs, had a stroke and he was euthanized on April 2^nd. 

Charlie & I struggled so hard to find out what was wrong with him and to get him better.  That fight ended on June 14^th.  Less than 2 weeks later, Cissy succumbed to kidney failure and was euthanized on June 24^th.  In the midst of the treating Charlie and Cissy, Claudia was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism and went blind.  She was doing well on her meds, but developed stones in her bladder and blood in her urine.  Treatment failed to help her and she was in no shape for surgery.  She was put to sleep on November 14^th.  Colt went to the vet in September due to a sore area in his mouth.  It was an eosiniphilic granuloma, and a shot of depoprovera cleared it up.  I was concerned about the fact that I could hear him breathing.  It wasn’t loud, but I knew it wasn’t normal.  The vet examined him and couldn’t hear anything.  He was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism as well.  He took his pills well, but by late November he had stopped eating canned food.  I tried baked chicken and baby food, but I couldn’t get him to eat it.  I couldn’t find him Sunday night or Monday morning to give him his pills.  I was determined to find him Monday night, and I did.  I found him because I heard his loud breathing sounds.  I took him to the Veterinary Emergency Clinic, where he was x-rayed.  The x-rays showed problem areas in one of his lungs.  The following morning I took him to my regular vet and from there to Affiliated Veterinary Specialists.  I left him there and they had to take more x-rays.  Dr. Goodman was as concerned about his heart as his lungs.  However, when I returned she told me that both she and the radiologist concurred – Colt had lung cancer.  There weren’t tumors but bleeding within the lungs.  There was nothing that could be done for him, except to prolong his suffering by keeping him in an oxygen cage.  I chose to do what was best for him, although I wasn’t ready to let him go.  I took him back to The Cat Hospital and Dr. Gray put him to sleep.  That was on Tuesday, December 20^th.  Colt was only 8 years old.  Chase, who I lost just before Christmas in 2010, was his sister.  Their mom, Bob, and their sister Chaka and brother Crockett are still with me. 

In between dealing with the illnesses and deaths of Claudia and Colt, Campbell had to have all his teeth removed and Courtney (Chaz & Charlie’s sister) spent 10 days at The Cat Hospital for an eye infection and respiratory problem.  Her respiratory problems have yet to be solved, but a tumor in her nasal passage has been ruled out.  Cordelia, my 13 year old pit bull mix, was diagnosed with lymphoma at the end of November.  She has responded to the prednisone, but the vet has given her 6 months at best. 

This year has been a very expensive one:  my vet bills have amounted to around $10,000.  I not only need to win the lottery but to get a magic wand to insure good health for the rest of my cats and dogs.  Cowboy, Crystal and Cho-sun are 5 years old and Cagney is just under a year old.  Everyone else is 8 years old or older.  So, 2012 is just around the corner.  I can only hope that it will be a much, much better and healthier year for all of us.  

Grief is, in my opinion, the most personal of human emotions.  It really isn't something that can be shared with others because the weight of the loss is ours, alone, to carry and learn to cope with.  And, it's complicated.  Memories of all the losses rear their ugly heads and add to the sadness.  No doubt reading this will stir memories in each of you for all those whom you have lost.  Death is a part of life and is something each of us will have to learn to deal with in our own ways.  While I truly hate making the decision to end the life of my dear cats and dogs, I am grateful that I have the option to end their suffering and not have to watch, helplessly, as they endure a prolonged and fatal illness.  Ultimately, it makes me grieve more for the millions of wonderful and healthy animals who are killed daily in so-called shelters around the world.  I continue to hold out hope that the needless killing will stop one day soon and only those who are suffering and have no chance to recover are those who are given respite through euthanasia.