My Friends:
On Thursday October 3rd, just after 9AM I authorized a veterinarian to give my dog Sally a lethal injection. She was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer on Saturday the 28th. She had a few good days before I saw her take a dramatic turn for the worse around 4 AM Thursday morning, when she couldn't breathe to the point that she could not walk herself to the door to go out.
I want to share with you a note that the staff at my vet share with me. The Author is unknown:
The Last Battle
If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And Pain should keep me from my sleep
Then will you do what must be done?
For this-the last battle - can't be won
You will be sad I understand
But don't let grief then stay your hands.
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.
We have had so many happy years
You wouldn't want me to suffer so,
When the time comes, please let me go.
Take me to where my needs they'll tend
Only stay with me until the end.
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time, you will agree
It is a kindness you do for me
Although my tail it's last has waived
From pain and suffering I have been saved
Don't grieve that it must be you
Who has to decide this thing you do
We've been so close - we two these years
Don't let your heart hold any tears.
My wife and I rescued Sally from the Dixon street shelter in Allentown on the fourth of July weekend of 2003. She was an adult Springer/Cocker Spaniel mix in need of a home. The Irony is that she made our home a happier place with her presence. We don't know how old she really was, but we are forever grateful to God for the gift of her presence.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Sally the Dog goes to the Vet
Last Friday I took our Black Springer/Cocker Spaniel Sally to the Vet. We received a notice in the mail that she was due to have her shots updated. So I made an appointment. Sally hasn't been to the vet since before her running buddy/playmate Lucy died in her sleep about 16 months ago. At That time, Sally weighed 23 pounds. We always remarked about how skinny she was, but the Vet told us not to worry.
One other issue is that Sally does not like to be groomed. We have pretty much ran the table of all the local dog groomers over the ten years we have had Sally. They all know her and don't want to do her, so it has been something we try to do a little bit of every time we give her a bath. Just like the professional groomers we like our fingers, so Krista and I are lucky if we can get one or two minutes of hacking away with the scissors before Sally makes her feelings known.
The result is that if a dog had a punk rocker haircut, it would look like Sally. I would post a picture, but I don't want anybody, especially Sally, who I believe has internet access, mad at me.
So Friday at 5:15 I took Sally to the Vet, and the first thing they do is weigh her. The Nurse was astounded. "34.4 pounds!" she gasped. This annoyed Sally. She took two steps off the scale, squatted and left a large pile. Then she got back on the scale. "34.2 pounds!" we all laughed.
It made me think of all the times I visited the doctor and emptied my pockets before getting on the scale.
Sally emptied the only thing she could. And cost me another $27 because now they had a stool sample they could test.
It just goes to show that even a dog can be sensitive about their appearance, and not fond of being mocked for it.
To make a long story short, Sally is as fit as a fiddle, be it a slightly chunky fiddle. My long work hours the past few months have curtailed her daily walks, so I am hoping that once Spring gets here, her and I will get out more.
In the meantime, we had her bloodwork done, and next Thursday we will drop her off at the Vets for a haircut. They will put her under anasthetic and do the whole nine yards, bath, haircut and nail trim.
We have to do it every couple of years, or she looks like a 1980s hair rock band with more than a few mullets.
The things we do for Love.
One other issue is that Sally does not like to be groomed. We have pretty much ran the table of all the local dog groomers over the ten years we have had Sally. They all know her and don't want to do her, so it has been something we try to do a little bit of every time we give her a bath. Just like the professional groomers we like our fingers, so Krista and I are lucky if we can get one or two minutes of hacking away with the scissors before Sally makes her feelings known.
The result is that if a dog had a punk rocker haircut, it would look like Sally. I would post a picture, but I don't want anybody, especially Sally, who I believe has internet access, mad at me.
So Friday at 5:15 I took Sally to the Vet, and the first thing they do is weigh her. The Nurse was astounded. "34.4 pounds!" she gasped. This annoyed Sally. She took two steps off the scale, squatted and left a large pile. Then she got back on the scale. "34.2 pounds!" we all laughed.
It made me think of all the times I visited the doctor and emptied my pockets before getting on the scale.
Sally emptied the only thing she could. And cost me another $27 because now they had a stool sample they could test.
It just goes to show that even a dog can be sensitive about their appearance, and not fond of being mocked for it.
To make a long story short, Sally is as fit as a fiddle, be it a slightly chunky fiddle. My long work hours the past few months have curtailed her daily walks, so I am hoping that once Spring gets here, her and I will get out more.
In the meantime, we had her bloodwork done, and next Thursday we will drop her off at the Vets for a haircut. They will put her under anasthetic and do the whole nine yards, bath, haircut and nail trim.
We have to do it every couple of years, or she looks like a 1980s hair rock band with more than a few mullets.
The things we do for Love.
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