to get in and out to relieve herself, and she got around fairly well indoors on carpeting. Of course we had numerous soft beds for her... one in every room of the house!.... and rendered assistance whenever
she needed a lift to get up. Her final years were as good as we could make them under the circumstances (though I am still and will forever remain angry at the two separate vets who misdiagnosed her, preventing us from getting effective treatment for her TRUE ailments), and with herbs, acupuncture, and ordinary medications for low thyroid and to control pain, she was a pretty content little girl. But as we knew it would, finally the sad day finally came when it her front legs, once strong, began to give way to the progressing arthritis as well and we knew we had reached the end of the line. It was becoming just too frustrating for her, as she would struggle up only to be able to walk a step or two at most before tumbling over. Doggie wheel chairs were not an option, as, at 87 lbs, she was not a good candidate for same. We had to made the sad decsion to let her go, and we did so here in the security and comfort of her own home, with two marvelous vets in attendence who saw to it that
she suffered no fear, pain or discomfort of any kind. They first gave her a shot to put her into the level of unconsciousness used for surgery, in which there is no awareness and no pain felt. I was allowed to
hold and pet and sooth her as she fell into a deep, relaxed sleep. Then, and only then, was the final dose to stop the heart given... when she had no awareness and could feel nothing. Her crossing was
painless and peaceful, and I could rejoice that she was finally free of the body that had imprisoned her for so long.
Needless to say, my own emotional state was one of complete and utter devestation. I had loved and
cared for that sweet animal for a good many years, as she was estimated at being between three and five when my late husband and I resued her and was between 15 and possibly 17 when she passed. It took me a long time to heal, and I'm not sure I'm fully healed yet. I did not want another dog ... I told myself never again!... but the truth is they are my favorite people and I just can't live without dogs, so
I ended up adopting a little terrior/boxer mix from our local county shelter on Oct. 28th. She was just
two months old, is rambunctious, wild, and becoming confident and secure. My vet assured me she was
a healthy specimen (after a nightmare attempt at adopting a sweet dog from a unethical rescue group
who at the age of between only one and two was already afflicted with advanced hip dysplasia...!) and
each time she sees her, she notes she has grown, gained weight, and come more into her own. It is
good to have this little puppy ball of energy, though we are resisting the urge to spoil her to death, knowing the importance of establishing good habits early on so as to have an enjoyable family member that does not irritate our friends and family by acting out and getting on their last nerve...! We are great adherents to Cesar Milan's methods, which we temper with Sonya Fitzpatrick's... two very different approaches! Our new little girl's name is Cayce... named after famous psychic and healer,
Edgar Cayce
... and she brings great joy into our still somewhat sad and recovering hearts. We will always love and miss Chloe, but we have room in our heart to love Cayce as well, and she needs us. She is brand spanking new... a baby, really!... and a total innocent. I could not possible consider leaving herin that shelter to risk becoming infected with some illness and or worse... euthanasia!! No way!
So we have turned the corner. Little Cayce is now three months old, and we fall more in love with her
every day. Here is a picture of my little girl... ain't she cute?
), and your husband as well for coming around and recognizing in 