Sunday, August 10, 2008
Adopting senior greyhounds is probably more rewarding than any other age. They come in, assess the joint, find a cushion and never give another thought.
Sure, we never know how long the senior will be with us, but every minute is counted and enjoyed to the fullest.
Our beautiful little Oneco. When you came to the gardens on April 17, 2004, I don’t think you had any greyt expectations. Once you got here though, you fit in and made it yours, just like you had always been here.
Your first and probably favorite find were the wading pools. Every trip out included a walk through all three pools for a drink of fresh water. You were the water nazi. If it wasn’t fresh, you haunted us until we made it fresh. Sometimes we didn’t always read the signals right and you got extra long ear scritches. But in the end, you made sure we changed out your water even if it meant 20 times a day, you always got fresh water.
You loved trancing in the trees, running with your friends, eating apples, digging holes and lying in them, and stalking the cats just outside their room. You even became an honorary member of the United Federation of Cat Zappers.
Once you got here, you always seemed so happy.
You and Phoebe joined forces almost immediately and the Double-digit gang was started. Nobody wanted to mess with the Double-digit gang. You were older, wiser and automatically the bosses.
From here forth, the Double-digit gang was always changing as you lost beloved members and new members joined.
And no matter which dogs you with, you were everyone’s friend.
You always knew how to ask and then get what you wanted…
And even in your very final days, you loved wading and drinking from the pools.
But the day came. You had been a beautiful greyhound for almost 14 1/2 years, ran 95 good races and gave birth to 21 babies. You were tired and we knew it was time to say good-bye.
You brought many of our greatest joys and we loved you so very much. Thank you, our sweet, sweet little Oneco ala Bear.
Your mommies, Terri and Karen
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Our vet clinic, Companion Pet, North Salem sometimes feels like the only social outing we get.
Saturday morning Da dawg week starts on Saturday. This was going to be a greyt week.
Just like normal, we were first in line at the vets with Adam. Urine showed no bacteria, and blood count for the first time since April topped 50. A greyt week! Woo Hoo. Or at least we thought.
Blender was seven days into her antibiotic for her scunned toe, it was healing quite nicely. A greyt week, woo hoo. At least that is what we thought.
Sunday evening Oneco showed no interest in dinner and had a cough. No breakfast Monday either and so, we were first in line at the vet clinic.
X-rays showed something in her lungs. Her heart sounded a little funky. First guess was congestive heart failure so home we went armed with lasix. 24 hours later, we really didn’t see any improvement and Tuesday morning we were back at the clinic. This time we left her for the day for IV antibiotics thinking that maybe she had pneumonia. We brought her home for the evening with the plan to have her spend the next day on IV antibiotics again.
Tuesday night out of the clear blue, I noticed a lump on Clancy’s right front leg just above his elbow. It was huge, about the size of my fist and I have no idea when it appeared. That gnawing feeling reappeared in the pit of my stomach and I knew there would be two going to the clinic the next day.
I walked in the door and asked Karen if we couldn’t get just one break. She smiled and took the next pack out. It was time for Flocko to play with his ball. Not three minutes later she came in to announce, “Nope, we weren’t getting a break this week, Flocko just broke his toe.”
Fortunately, it popped right back into place when she tried to bandage it. No vet trip for him.
Wednesday morning Oneco went in at 7:30 a.m., I made a mad dash for work and when I went home at noon, I stopped by the clinic to drop Clancy off. Wednesday after work I returned to the clinic to bad news and more bad news.
Oneco was not showing any improvement nor was she showing an interest in food. Not a good sign, the decision would have to be made soon.
Clancy had a needle biopsy and a first look, didn’t look good, but we would know more when the results returned.
Both babies went home for the evening knowing that Oneco’s time would be soon and Clancy was scheduled for surgery on Friday.
Thursday morning Oneco spent a good portion of the night panting. Early the next morning she asked to go out and when she came in, she coughed up blood. At that very moment, we knew that this would be the day our hearts would be broken again.
We had just gotten home from taking Oneco first to the clinic for her final shot and then off to the humane society for a private cremation. Just like always, we turned Blender out and she ran to the back fence. This time she returned on three legs, bleeding like crazy. 4:30 p.m., and it is back to the clinic.
Blender had broken her toenail off at the first joint exposing the bone, surgery was scheduled for the next day. She and Clancy would be sharing the surgical suite.