The Dog Tribute Thread

I thought about creating a new thread in remembrance of my recently departed dog Balto to replace the one left behind on the old board. I then thought to expand with pictures and words from everybody here who have dogs that have gone beyond. Here is to Balto, and all of those other best friends who we hope to see again someday on the Rainbow Bridge...........

George. We lost him two weeks after he came home.

January has not been good to us the last three years. In January of '06 we lost Flower (the black one) to kidney failure at the age of 12. Didn't even know she was having trouble until the end was basically in sight. All of her tests during her regular checkups were normal, and even when we began to suspect something might be going on we still had difficulty medically confirming it. She was the one we always thought would outlive us. A year later, our other Lahsa, Maggie, said goodbye. She was 16. She enjoyed her old age more than any dog I think I've ever known. Honestly, we didn't think she'd make it as far as she did. Her mid-years were wracked with one medical problem after another: Ear problems, skin problems, when she was 13 she had an attack of vestibular syndrome. If you don't know what this is, it's an inner-ear spasm that sends the dog into convulsions complete with eye-twitching and other assorted freakouts. It's basically the scariest thing imaginable, except it's basically completely harmless. We thought that early-morning ride to the emergency vet was her last, though. She got through all that fine, though, and enjoyed her golden years the way you hope any dog would. Toward the end, her bad days started outnumbering her good days, and we were forced to make "the decision." Her last day was a particularly good one, which made things both much easier and much more difficult.

In January of '08, we lost Tessa, our Grand Eclectus. Tessa was a rescue that we found in absolutely abysmal shape six months earlier. Her claws had grown all the way around into the bottom of her feet, and she had infections and black feathers (a sign of gross malnutrition) throughout her coat. Over about four months she made a climb back to health, and dull feathers molted off and were replaced by brilliant ones. She was never terribly active, as the infections in her legs had permanently stiffened many of her joints, but she could climb anywhere she wanted—just not as fast as some other birds. The cockatoos would always make sure she had plenty of fresh vegetables, and sometimes they would even stop eating and wait to make sure she was full before they continued. Around the holidays, though, she took a bit of a turn for the worse. Some of the infections in her feet began to come back, and she slowed down a bit more. We endured a gauntlet of tests and medications, but couldn't really find a conclusive reason as to why she was fading. As far as last days go, hers was rather epic. It was a day I worked at home, so she spent the day bumbling around the house, checking nearly every square inch, and stopping to take naps under a bookshelf every so often. At one point she found an open door and wandered out into the driveway where I found her enjoying some sun. Shortly after my wife got home. Tessa walked into the bedroom wanting to be picked up. She started coughing up fluid, and within seconds died in our arms. Her autopsy revealed that her infections had gone systemic long before we had even found her. We like to think that we gave her a few extra months, and made them better than they would have been otherwise.

jg

(sorry for the big damn pic) The one on the right was Kellie. What a special dog. I'll probably never be blessed with another one like her. I f**king hate cancer. 8/21/00 she left us. My race car's number is 821. Yes, she was that special.

What a great thread! Last week, we lost our old beagle, Betsy. We had a mini wake for her when we got home from the vets.

When we got there (she had been in the vets care since Tuesday night, when we she had gone from bouncy and happy at suppertime to completely debilitated and unable to move by 8 pm. Upon examination, she had what appeared to be a mast cell tumor on her throat. Two years ago to the month she had been diagnosed with a mast cell tumor the size of a golf ball in her soft palate, causing her to have trouble breathing and snoring even when awake. Surgery successfully removed that tumor but there was always the possibility of another one), she was definitely in worse shape than the previous evening, and the tumor in her throat had multiplied and spread. She could barely move and was having a hard time breathing. Still, it was not an easy decision to make.

It's very hard to have a loved pet die in your arms. And my wife and stepson were a complete mess on the way home. Hell, I was, too. But she had been in the family longer than I have. No real knowledge of her age, as she had been bought from a pound over 10 years ago, but she was probably close to 15 years old.

When we got home, we talked through the tears about all the fun we've had with Betsy over the years. Stories like one time a couple years back, we were all eating KFC in the living room watching TV, back when you got a family size meal that came with a free chocolate bundt cake, and she was begging for food, as usual. Bouncing and going from one of us to the next. We wouldn't give her anything, and after a bit, she stopped. Suddenly there was this loud crash from upstairs, and we ran up to see what happened. As we got to the spare bedroom Betsy came rushing out and we saw a side table knocked over and the light on it on the floor as well as a few other items (pictures, small scultures) that had been on the table. my wife and I both said "damnit" and started to pick things up, then we said "damnit" again and ran back downstairs. Yup, there was Betsy standing in the living room licking her lips next to the coffee table, and suspiciously missing was... the chocolate cake. She had inhaled the entire thing in the couple moments we were upstairs. She had to have ran straight downstairs to the living room and pulled the cake on the floor without hesitation. We're pretty sure the upstairs distraction was intentional...

When we saw her, she was a complete barrel. When she tried to lay down on her side, her legs stuck straight out. She pooped what looked to be pure chocolate cake for a couple days.

So in her honor we had chocolate cake that night.

I know, sappy. But we're gonna miss that dog. The sheltie still waited at the back door for her to come out when I let them out this morning...

When she was younger:

On the couch with our younger beagle, Molly

Autumn, Betsy, and Molly: