They steal our hearts, but they break them too
Discussion
Motivated by a couple of recent threads on here - and having to say goodbye to our beloved Charlie on Thursday evening, when his prostate cancer became too much for him.
We have been lucky enough to be adopted by 7 beautiful pooches over the last 30'ish years.
Top right is Max - a typical Bradford Mutt - our first dog, as a small family. He was a gentle soul - and frankly a bit thick, but we loved him unconditionally.
Below him is Jake - a really massive German Shepherd - a stray who followed us home one day. He was very much at ease around horses - I suspect he was a traveler's dog originally. He was very protective and totally bonded to my wife. Just a magnificent dog.
Below Jake is Chloe - a very expensive pedigree GSD Kennel Club name - Alatrac Gloria - a birthday present to my wife (while we still had Jake, who kind of tolerated her). When we left the UK for the US, Chloe came with us.
Middle left is the stupendous Walter - a cross Lab/Shar Pei - he was a wrinkled freak, who was a little bit anti-social - God only knows what his past contained, he was nervous and fearful of strangers, but he was a total love-sponge with us. When Chloe died, he went into a bit of a funk, so back to the ASPCA to find him a buddy.
Bottom left is the result - our darling Molly. She was the smartest, friendliest, most curious mongrel I've ever encountered. Walter turned out to not be much of a Molly fan, but she didn't give a hoot - just loved life.
Top left is Charlie - another waif from the shelter - sweet of disposition and a real opportunist. He was a trash-hound - if we didn't secure our kitchen bins before going out, we paid in clean-up
This is Maggie - Charlies bestie...
She's been a bit 'lost' over the past few days, but we'll get over the loss together.
Even though it's so painful when we lose them, the compensation is that they give us so much joy when they are with us. When I think of them, they make me happy - every single one of them.
We have been lucky enough to be adopted by 7 beautiful pooches over the last 30'ish years.
Top right is Max - a typical Bradford Mutt - our first dog, as a small family. He was a gentle soul - and frankly a bit thick, but we loved him unconditionally.
Below him is Jake - a really massive German Shepherd - a stray who followed us home one day. He was very much at ease around horses - I suspect he was a traveler's dog originally. He was very protective and totally bonded to my wife. Just a magnificent dog.
Below Jake is Chloe - a very expensive pedigree GSD Kennel Club name - Alatrac Gloria - a birthday present to my wife (while we still had Jake, who kind of tolerated her). When we left the UK for the US, Chloe came with us.
Middle left is the stupendous Walter - a cross Lab/Shar Pei - he was a wrinkled freak, who was a little bit anti-social - God only knows what his past contained, he was nervous and fearful of strangers, but he was a total love-sponge with us. When Chloe died, he went into a bit of a funk, so back to the ASPCA to find him a buddy.
Bottom left is the result - our darling Molly. She was the smartest, friendliest, most curious mongrel I've ever encountered. Walter turned out to not be much of a Molly fan, but she didn't give a hoot - just loved life.
Top left is Charlie - another waif from the shelter - sweet of disposition and a real opportunist. He was a trash-hound - if we didn't secure our kitchen bins before going out, we paid in clean-up
This is Maggie - Charlies bestie...
She's been a bit 'lost' over the past few days, but we'll get over the loss together.
Even though it's so painful when we lose them, the compensation is that they give us so much joy when they are with us. When I think of them, they make me happy - every single one of them.
Thank you everyone here, for your kind comments and I hope everyone who goes through this aspect of pet ownership can balance the loss with the celebration that comes with the relationship.
In the case of Charlie we knew it was coming. A routine health check revealed his grossly enlarged prostate, but no other symptoms. Our vet performed a biopsy (which Charlie didn't appreciate one little bit) and sent it to pathology, hoping for a prostatitis diagnosis. The vet warned us that if it turned out to be a malignancy the prospects were not good at all.
At this point, he was a dog of indeterminate age, being a rescue, who'd clearly been on the street for some time. We had him for 7 years, so I'm guessing he was at least 12.
With prostate cancer confirmed we treated him with a very effective anti-inflammatory (piroxicam). Chemo was an option that we decided against - no guarantees, miserable for the dog and outrageously expensive.
The piroxicam gave him 6 months more than our vet had estimated he had before the tumor infiltrated his bladder and prevented him from urinating. We were extremely vigilant because we didn't want him to be in discomfort in his dotage. On walks we closely monitored his piss-stream (passers-by must have thought we were perverts) and as time went on, he was starting to struggle. At that point we knew it was time to let him go.
I confess that there have been instances in my past dog ownership where we left it too long - hoping for a miracle (Jake was a case in point) and we vowed not to let that happen again.
We can comfort ourselves that Charlie had a very fulfilled, happy and comfortable life with us. He was one of those dogs who could actually smile and I loved that about him.
In the case of Charlie we knew it was coming. A routine health check revealed his grossly enlarged prostate, but no other symptoms. Our vet performed a biopsy (which Charlie didn't appreciate one little bit) and sent it to pathology, hoping for a prostatitis diagnosis. The vet warned us that if it turned out to be a malignancy the prospects were not good at all.
At this point, he was a dog of indeterminate age, being a rescue, who'd clearly been on the street for some time. We had him for 7 years, so I'm guessing he was at least 12.
With prostate cancer confirmed we treated him with a very effective anti-inflammatory (piroxicam). Chemo was an option that we decided against - no guarantees, miserable for the dog and outrageously expensive.
The piroxicam gave him 6 months more than our vet had estimated he had before the tumor infiltrated his bladder and prevented him from urinating. We were extremely vigilant because we didn't want him to be in discomfort in his dotage. On walks we closely monitored his piss-stream (passers-by must have thought we were perverts) and as time went on, he was starting to struggle. At that point we knew it was time to let him go.
I confess that there have been instances in my past dog ownership where we left it too long - hoping for a miracle (Jake was a case in point) and we vowed not to let that happen again.
We can comfort ourselves that Charlie had a very fulfilled, happy and comfortable life with us. He was one of those dogs who could actually smile and I loved that about him.
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