Sweet Odie's passing

Today has been a very difficult day for Claudia and I. Our dogs and cat are our kids. I made the difficult decision to euthanize our oldest dog this morning. As some of you know, I work for the local Humane Society. I got up around 4am this morning and spent time with our oldest girl, Odie. I loaded her up in the car and drove to work on my day off. I wanted to be the one that she saw last, not some person she didn't know. With trembling hands, I gently gave her the drug that would ease her pain and close her eyes on this world forever. She was ready for it and seemed almost eager to see the other side. She went quicker than any other dog or cat I have had to euthanize. My hands were shaking now and tears streaming down my face as I took off her collar for the last time. We are having her creamated so she can join the others that have passed on before her.

I am making a copper urn to hold her ashes, just like I have done for the others. This has been a very long, hard and sad day for us. We know that she is now pain free and happily romping around with her pals Falina, Riley, Sasha and Grandpaw. It still hurts to have to see them suffer and have an empty void in our lives now.

The house is much quieter today than most days. Our other dogs know that she is gone and that we are sad. They have been trying to cheer us up all day. They sense the void and are trying to distract us from the tears and heartache we feel inside. Connor gravely puts a paw on our leg as if he is conveying his love and sympathy to us.

We miss you Odie, but we know you are now feeling no pain and are having fun with the others.

Deja's surprise vet appointment

Today I woke up early, because Deja Vu had an appointment to get spayed. She was her usual happy go lucky self this morning and was eager to jump in the car with Jake and Rico to go for a car ride. Once she realized that she was back at the Humane Society, she got a bit nervous. She really didn't like being put into the small kennel. Meanwhile, Jake and Rico were both very good about getting their shots! I was so proud of them for not even flinching once!

 

This afternoon when I went to pick DJ up from the clinic at the Humane Society, she was still drugged up and barely picked her head up to look at me. It has been an hour and a half and she still won't look at me. She is upset that I left her there and now she hurts.

 

She is a trooper though and will thank me later that it was done. (I hope) She is sleeping right now at my feet and hopefully will want something to eat later this evening.

 

I hate to see our kids in pain. It hurts to see them so. I wish that I could take the pain away from them so they wouldn't have to ever experience it.

 

Chris

New Sister!

Hi everyone! Connor here... I just wanted to let everyone know that we all have a new sister! Her name is Deja Vu, DJ for short. She is kinda small for a Rottie, but she's pretty darn cute! Although she is kinda annoying with how hyper she is and how much she likes to kiss everyone.

Dad told us about what happened to her and it is kinda sad. Her owner had been taken away and won't be able to see her until January 2009. She was the only thing that kept her owner from hurting himself. When he was depressed, she would keep her head on a part of him so that he would know he was still loved. Once he had been taken away to get better, she was all by herself until her owners parents came to get her. They tried to get a long term foster home for her, but couldn't find one. So with broken hearts, they took her to the Yavapai Humane Society where my Daddy works and surrendered her. Well once Dad found out the story about her, he couldn't help but want to help her. (Dad has a special soft spot in his heart for us Rotties!) Dad and Mom decided to foster DJ until her owner can come home.

Sometimes I think Dad has a few screws loose to keep wanting more of us Spoiled Rotten Rotties! heh heh heh... But we all love him anyways! Especially when he lets us have the leftovers from dinner!!!! Stop by and say hi to our new sister!

 

Love ya all,

Connor aka "The Movie Star" 

Sweet Sasha's Passing

When our first hospice foster Rottie (Grandpaw) passed away on 11/7/06, Chris and I didn't think we could ever take in another "final refuge" hospice dog. They come into your life, steal your heart, then like a shooting star they are too quickly gone. Losing Grandpaw broke our hearts. Yet the rescue group we worked with (Old Dog Haven) needed final refuge homes for their hospice dogs, especially for old Rottweilers. They coaxed us by saying the best way to pay tribute to Grandpaw's memory was to save another aged Rottie's life...and they had one in urgent need.

Sasha belonged to a young mother who was going through a very messy divorce. Her husband used Sasha as fuel for the custody battle, claiming it wasn't safe to have a Rottweiler around their two toddlers. The young mother was heartbroken because she'd owned Sasha since puppyhood; ten-year-old Sasha had nowhere to go. So when we heard of their plight, we knew what we had to do.

Sasha was the sweetest, most gentle and silliest old gal you could ever hope for. She worshipped Chris and would turn into a mass of stumpy-tailed wiggles whenever she saw him, or she would flip over on her back for tummy rubs. Always flirting, always smiling, always loving. If we missed her dinnertime, we'd often find that she'd picked up her food bowl and dumped it in a place where we were sure to stumble over it. Just a gentle reminder!

She needed several medications twice daily for various ailments including arthritis, but serving and caring for her was a privilege, not a chore. She always seemed thankful for everything we did.

Her arthritis worsened as the months wore on. She moved slowly and would lie contentedly in front of any exterior doorway (both guarding and enjoying the drafts), waiting patiently for Daddy to come home from work each day. Then she'd burst into wiggles, giggles and flirtatious smiles.

She developed osteosarcoma in her right shoulder - a form of rapidly-progressing bone cancer that’s common in Rottweilers. The only treatment option for osteosarcoma is amputation of the affected limb before it metastasizes and invades the lungs. However, amputation wouldn’t have been an option for Sasha with her severe arthritis, and the cancer wasn’t caught until it was reaching final stages. The cancer was diagnosed on Wednesday, February 13th, but by that evening she finally showed some signs of distress and she had trouble breathing that night. By morning, we made the hardest decision a pet owner has to make and decided it was time to let her go.

She had a smile on her face and a wiggling stumpy tail up until the very last moment. She let us know, in that psychic way that dogs have, that she was ready and almost eager to embark on her new adventure. Her demeanor was extraordinary at the end: patient, clear-headed and very aware and accepting of what was going on.

We loved our sweet Sasha. Her big gentle presence filled our home with contentment and happiness all the time. The precious times we spent with her on slow walks, sitting by the fire, brushing her beautiful coat, spoiling her rotten, rubbing her tummy, caring for her needs, listening to her snore at our bedside each night, etc., are moments we will always cherish. She is sorely grieved and missed by us. But we know she's now without pain, running in the golden meadows of heaven with our other "kids" -- that never-ending smile on her big happy face.

We'll see you again, Sashi-Bashi. You're our girl!

Chihuahua Fever

It's been three and a half months since my precious Falina passed away. There are times in my day when a thought of her will cross my mind and my heart begins racing, my breath catches in my throat, and I find myself in a near panic that she's gone. And then the tears flow again. Oh, my heart aches for her. Even though I've still got my other four-legged knuckleheads, they're not Chihuahuas. Falina was the center of my heart. Even her name, slipping sweetly off my tongue, has a sacred sound. I find myself singing, "Falina, say it loud and it's music playing. Say it soft and it's almost like praying. Falina, I'll never stop saying Falina." ("Maria" from West Side Story) Yesterday morning I awoke to a dream that the little Chihuahua I owned over 20 years ago, named Taco, came back to me as if he were only lost for a while. I was overjoyed to see him! He was my little man, my baby boy, my Tiny Tim. And then I woke up...and no Taco. No Falina. No ChiChi (my first Chihuahua from 1969 to 1983). I find myself going to PetFinder.com, searching all the Chihuahuas in need of a home. The ones in nearby rescues have too high of adoption fees for me right now, and the others are too far away. And none of them quite call out to me the way my Falina did from the very instant I set eyes on her. I know nobody will ever replace my precious Falina, just like Falina didn't replace Taco, and Taco didn't replace ChiChi. They were all different. But to have no Chihuahua is agony. My sweet little ones are in my dreams, surrounding me like invisible angels, calling to me. I've got Chihuahua fever something awful. And the cure still seems a long way off.

Another Treasure in Heaven

I just don't believe in coincidence.  I sat with my Riley all night just two short weeks ago, waiting for morning and the vet's office to open so I could finally take Riley's suffering away.  And again, last night, I spent the night waiting for morning for the vet's office to open so I could take little Falina's suffering away.  I know I'm still in shock because that little Chihuahua has been my anchor through single motherhood, through open heart surgery, through my father's passing, through a tearing apart of my family, through my son's delinquency...  Life's been hard, but Falina was always there to be held, to be nuzzled and her softness and warmth always made my world right again.

 

What I truly don't understand is how both my Godsend Riley and my anchor Falina died of the exact same thing - a ruptured uterus - just two weeks apart, nearly to the hour and minute.  Where is the meaning?  For surely there must be meaning in this. 

 

If the measure of one's grief is also the measure of one's love, then the world should know that my girls were not just loved, but treasured and honored, and as cherished as flesh and blood children to me.  I will try to go on without Falina's soft little body in the crook of my arm each night, without that stinky breath in my face for kisses, and without that little hopping-up-and-down thing she would do when she wanted to be picked up, but I tell you...it will be a joyous day when MY turn finally comes to cross "the bridge" and I will see all my little treasures once again.

 

--claudia ("mommy")

Gone Too Soon

Why is it like having your heart ripped out when you lose them?  Riley was only here for two months, but she touched the very core of my soul.

 

She began her permanent foster life with us straight from the shelter.  It was obvious her previous owner had not cared for her very well.  We assume from her filthy tattered collar, dirty coat, and general condition that she had been kept outdoors, neglected and unloved.  She came to us very frightened, a little aggressive towards the other dogs, and confused.

 

With time and love, she began to blossom.  She watched the other dogs and learned the house rules from them.  She became excited at every new thing she encountered - treats, toys, play.  She absorbed the love I gave her like a sponge and returned it ten-fold.  While Chris was gone in Arizona this whole time, I felt safe with Riley here.  She was very protective of me with a deep woof that could scare even the toughest boogeymen away.

 

Being a runaway, we didn't know her history or whether she'd been spayed, although you could see she'd had puppies in the past.  But the first priority was to extract a broken canine with exposed nerves before it became infected.  The day following the extraction, she went into heat.  Of course, watching her chase after poor Connor in her lovesick state was like watching a Pepe Le Pew cartoon (Connor wanted nothing to do with her advances, although he thought she smelled pretty interesting). 

 

One day I found a large spot of blood on her blanket, but because she was in heat I just figured she hadn't moved around for a long time as she slept.  I wish I'd paid more attention to that spot.

 

Well, she stayed in season a week longer than dogs usually are in heat.  And she began dripping trails of bright red blood all around the house and groaning as if she was in discomfort.  I took her to the vet and she was immediately taken in to emergency surgery to remove her uterus.  Apparently it had ruptured and had become horribly infected.  The doctor removed a 7-pound uterus from my little girl, filled with pus and infectious fluids.  He was glad I was so perceptive about her behavior because this type of thing, especially in Rotties, often goes unnoticed.  He said her uterus had probably become severely weakened because of whelping (confirming my suspicion that she had probably been a backyard breeder's tool) and had torn while she was in heat. 

 

She never fully recovered after the surgery.  She'd begin to get better, then crash.  She was still showing signs of infection after four days, and her heart went into cardiac arrhythmia so she went back into the hospital for a couple of days, which frightened her terribly.  She was ecstatic to come home again.  I'd see signs of improvement here and there - a bark fest at the door one day, carrying her ball around another day, eating extra helpings the next day.

 

From Sept 19 until Oct 1, she tried to hold on, fighting as best she could, clinging to my side for comfort, love and security.  She developed extreme separation anxiety so that after her hospital stay, I had to stay with her through every vet visit, every procedure.  I rarely left the house because it distressed her too much to have me out of her sight.  I coddled her, nursed her, adored her, showered her with all my love and affection, but I couldn't save her despite my efforts.

 

Finally on Sep 29th, she began taking a real nose dive.  By the next day (Sunday), she was groaning with every labored breath and I could feel her heart nearly pounding out of her chest.  The vet wasn't open and I knew if I took her to an emergency clinic, they would probably want to open her up yet again.  Her body wasn't strong enough to endure another surgery, and her emotions weren't strong enough to leave my side for another hospital stay.  All I could do was comfort her, filter my fingers through her magnificent, soft fur, and tell her how much I loved her.  In her own way, she told me that she wanted her suffering to end.

 

Yesterday morning by the time the vet's office opened up, her heart was showing signs of irreversible damage, she was dehydrated, her tummy was distended and she was laboring for breath.  We said a tearful goodbye as she laid her soft, sweet head in my cupped hands one last time while the doctor injected the lethal dose that ripped her from my life, but sealed her in my heart.

 

She was a devoted, loving, trusting and absolutely beautiful girl.  To watch her transform from the stinking, forlorn and abused mess that we brought home into the shining, gorgeous, joyful sweetheart she became was one of the most cherished experiences of my life.

 

I miss her more than words can say.

 

-- Claudia ("Mommy")

Riley Update

With Daddy being gone for a while, Riley has become Mommy's sidekick now.  Actually, EVERYbody is Mommy's sidekick when Daddy's gone.  Mommy gets exasberated when she tries to step from the sink to the refrigerator and there are six dogs under her feet.  She can't seem to walk through the house without taking baby steps over and around dogs.  We all think it's very funny to watch Mommy tip over and grab at the walls. 

Riley really likes it here.  She gets up in the morning and sings "Roooooo!" to the world when it's breakfast time.  I'm not sure how the neighbors feel when they hear both Riley and Odie "roooooooing" in the early morning. 

Sometimes Riley goes potty in the house.  Mommy doesn't get mad at her because she says Riley never learned house manners.  So Riley gets to go outside a lot more than the rest of us and SHE gets a treat when she poo's outside.  We don't.  I don't think that's very fair, but Mommy says I just don't remember getting treats for pooing outside when I was little.

Riley likes to put her head in Mommy's lap.  Riley tells me she never had anybody love her like this before.  She says she always dreamed of having a family just like ours where she would feel safe, loved, clean, fed and happy.  She says this is like heaven.

We like having Riley here because Mommy is so funny when she's walking down the hall and Riley runs ahead and stops right in front of her.  It's so much fun to tease Mommy when Daddy's not here to stop us.  Riley's a great tease! 

Love,
Connor

Old Dogs and Hard Choices

It's been a "Ruff" few weeks here in our household.  Daddy's gone to Arizona for a new job and Mommy's here alone to take care of all the kids.  Mommy says we'll all be together again soon, but it feels like it's already been forever.

Falina is pretty sick.  She didn't want to eat and then she was throwing up and having diarrhea.  At first Mommy thought she was just upset about Daddy being gone (Falina pouts about almost anything.)  Finally Mommy took her to the vet who said Falina either has a congested/infected liver or a tumor on her liver.  She's taking lots of medicine and we hope she'll be all right.  She's the Princess and we don't know what we'd do without her.  (She's the one who tells us all to bark like crazy when she hears a car outside.)  Some days she seems like she's getting better, then the next day she acts all sick again.  Now Mommy's getting sick with worry.

Sasha is very sad with Daddy gone, too.  Her age is really showing and her legs are wobbly when she stands up to go outside.  Mommy is getting worried about her, too.  But I think as long as Sasha still wiggles and giggles, she'll be okay.  She just needs to exercise some more and eat less so she won't be such a whale.  Mommy's just worried because when GrandPaw was alive, he got so weak that one day he couldn't get up the stairs and it was really scary because Mommy had to sit on the stairs in freezing weather holding him up until Daddy could come home from work to help.  We don't want our dear Sasha to ever have any scary moments like that. 

It's a hard time for us right now.  We miss Daddy very much.  Change is never easy, but this is especially hard right now.  I do my best to cheer Mommy up by sneaking up from behind, sticking my nose under her elbow and throwing her shoulder out of joint when I need petting.  That always gets her attention.

Love,
Connor

I'm Home!

I ran away from my old home. It wasn't a good place. Then I got caught and they put me in a horrible, horrible place called a "shelter" for a whole month. It was so stinky it made me sick and nobody paid me hardly any attention. I was behind bars with no bed or anything to lie down on but a cold, dirty cement floor. I was there for a whole month and only got taken outside four times for walks.

 

I was wishing I could run away, but I couldn’t get out of the cage. I was wishing somebody would pay me some attention, but nobody likes big black dogs. I was back with the sick dogs and none of them felt like talking to me. I was all alone and wanted to disappear. Day after day I sat there with nothing to do, no one to love, no place to lie down, no one to scratch my ears or tell me I’m a good girl. I think I was starting to go crazy from all the howling, barking, yipping and noises from the 100 or so other inmates.

 

But then two days ago in the afternoon, a nice couple came just to see me! At first I was too afraid to look into their eyes. I figured they’d just walk away like everybody else and I’d end up with my hopes dashed once again. But the lady bent over, looked at me, talked nice, and put her hand up to the cage…so I gave her a quick glance and a little kiss. Then they walked away. It made me very sad.

 

But next thing I knew, they were back. And the kennel woman opened the door to my cage! We walked into a hallway to be all by ourselves, so I decided to be brave and look at these nice people. When they told me to sit, I plomped my bottom quickly to the floor. That made them happy. When they snapped their fingers or said, "Hey, pretty girl," I would turn around and look at them. I liked the way they touched me, even though my coat was really filthy and smelly.

 

The nice people took me for a car ride to a vet. We waited a long, long time and saw other dogs and cats come and go. I wasn’t sure what was going on, so I was kind of naughty and barked really loud at the other dogs. But the nice couple kept petting me and talking to me, and they were just so so so nice and freedom was delicious. I decided to adopt these people so I gave them lots of kisses, I put my head in their laps, sat at their feet and pretended we were already family. 

 

My new Mommy and Daddy had to leave me there at the vet’s overnight, but they were back the next day and I was happy as can be to see them again! They took me for another car ride to the doggie store to buy a new collar, leash, treats, shampoo and I got to pick out my very first plush squeaky toy. I threw it up in the air and caught it and shook it around and made it squeak. Boy, that was fun!

 

Then we went back in the car to my new house. But I had to take a bath, which wasn’t a whole lot of fun but I’m glad I smell better now. And to my surprise, one by one I met my new brother and four sisters AND a cat!

 

I’m not sure I like having a brother and sisters. I’d rather have Mommy and especially Daddy all to myself. But I sure hit the jackpot! I even got to lick Daddy’s dinner plate tonight! Hurray!!!!!

 

Life is (finally) good.

 

Love, Riley