It's time to say good bye

The week started out good.  Mom weighed me again … 30 ????? pounds.  Yep, starting to pack on a little more weight and that’s great.  But not too much as it would be too hard on my back legs.  I had a badly broken one when mom got me from some people in the Valley.  It was x-rayed, and not good even back then, about 9 years ago, so she has to be careful that I’m not too heavy.

The other night I got mom good.  I’ve employed a new ruse.  I don’t want to do my big chore out in the dog yard, so now she’s taking me for short walks so I can take care of business.  Why not?  Now I get a walk and great food.  Mom’s such a soft touch!!! 

More meds, special food.  It's a dog's life.

But I know she’s leaving.  So, I need to take advantage while I can before she goes as I’m not sure pop will be as gullible!  And I’m sorry to say I won’t be posting because mom’s taking her computer and pop won’t let me use his.  He’s afraid I’ll get chicken all over it or something.

February 13 … I felt good this morning, but by this afternoon I didn’t and didn’t want to eat no matter that pop brought me the good stuff … chicken and fancy canned food.  I want to eat and please, but I couldn’t and then I threw up.  I’ve had a hard time getting up on the couch, too, and pop knew.

Mom had been out running errands because she’s leaving on vacation tonight, and when she came home, she was going to go walking with Rita and Robin.  But she knew there was something wrong.  So she called the vet and they said to bring me in.  Pop carried me out in my Beagle bed and Auntie Rita held me in her lap all the way to the vet.

The vet was really nice to me, but she told mom I was jaundiced as my liver was failing, and mom knew it was time to send me over the bridge. 

I'm sorry, mom, but you and I both know I have to go.

I know I’m a piece of her heart, but she had to do what was right for me … and let me go with dignity.  I know it’s a hard way to start her vacation, but I was so glad she was here to send me over and spend my last time here with her holding me tight and telling me she loved me. 

She always loved me best.

I had a great life with mom and pop and the rest of the crowd.  I was loved but I needed to go.  Signing off, folks, and this is the last Beagle Blog.  Baaarrrrrooooooooooo.

A Poem to my mom and pop

The day you laid me down to sleep
you prayed to the Lord; my soul to keep
I know you had to send me on my way
but you sent me to a new; better; and much brighter day

You sent me home; to heaven above
where I'm cradled in God's arms; covered with His love
I understand what you did; you did out of love
and I'll return that love; from my new home above

My sickness is gone; and I'm free here to roam
I run and play in the meadows; here in my new home
We play here by the Bridge; from morning to night
there is no rain here; just warm sunlight

I know you all miss me; I miss you all too
but I'll always be with you; whatever you do
Please wipe the tears; from your weeping eyes
by remembering the good times; from days gone by

When you look out; into the dark of night
I'll be that bright star; your guiding light
We'll meet again at the Bridge one day
when we'll walk in the light; together to stay.

Tuffy February 13, 2016

                                                                    by John Quealy

I'm so smart and cunning I make myself proud

A few days have gone by since mom put me back on chicken and rice and occasionally she even puts some broth on it.  YUMMY!!!!!  Sometimes I eat it a bit slower, usually in the early evening, because now she’s doing something a bit different … giving me three meals a day.  Of course, I’m really liking that, even when she stuck a joint compound and a quarter of a Rimadyl in it and some ordinary dog food.  I still ate it.  She continues to have to give me some other meds for a few more days.  She’s a bit smarter now as she’s giving me a small piece of plain chicken and then another one with the meds in it.  She thinks I don’t know it.  Ha!!!  Of course, I do.  But I’m taking one for the team as everyone gets a piece of chicken.  I hope they all appreciate what I’m doing for them.

It seems that my system is way more regulated, too, with three smaller meals and I’m not having to make a dash for the door three, four or five times a day to drop a cow-pie-like bomb in the yard that requires a hazmat outfit to clean it up due to size and stench.  That makes her very happy.  Right now I’m at once a day, and it’s more normal.  Kind of, as I used to be a two-times-a-day guy.

My mom loves me.

Something else that is making her happy is when she weighed me again, I’ve put back on about another pound, so I’m over 30 pounds.  In reality, I should weigh a few more than that, but it’s progress in her mind.  I’m way more alert than I was a few days ago after she’d taken me to the vet, and more likely to get up for my meals.  I just wasn’t interested in food.

Things otherwise, I don’t know.  I seem a bit slower mostly, maybe sleeping more and a little weaker in my back legs.  Sometimes they shake and mom is watching me closely, worried about me.  It’s nice that she worries about me so much, but I sense there’s something big coming … is she leaving town again?  What will I do?  I sleep next to her heart.  Poor pop will be left to deal with all of us …

Emergency, emergency

Things have been going relatively well.  Mom got this expensive enzyme powder medication from the vet January 23, and has to put it on my food and mix it together 15-20 minutes before she can give it to me.  Guess what that means?  The others have to wait for their meals, too.  Haha!  I’m the star here.  And I’m still getting extra food and fancy food, like hamburger and rice.  Cuz I’m mom’s favorite … and I’m sick.

The enzyme powder takes the place of my pancreatic enzymes doing their job.  My pancreas has apparently quit working and that’s why mom can feed me three times the normal amount of food and it just goes in one end and out the other, barely stopping to say hello to any of my internal organs.  The pancreas failure means that I get no nutrients from my food.  So, while I’m enjoying eating a lot, it really doesn’t do me any good.

This is the enzyme powder I have to take that helps do what a pancreas does.  Who knew?

After being on the enzyme powder for a week, things seemed to be going better.  So mom took me to the vet’s office to get me weighed on their scale.  She’d been weighing me at home and it appeared I’m gaining a little weight.  The vet scale proved mom right.  I’d gained nearly 3 pounds, and am a bit over 30 pounds again. 

After seeing I was doing well, mom cut down on the food a bit and completely cut out the fancy hamburger and rice.  WTH???  I’m not really cut out to eat plain dog food.  That’s just not fair.  I’m sickly and deserve so much more from her.  But being that I’m a Beagle, I’ll eat anything.  So be it. 

After several days of regular food and enzyme powder, mom and pop gave me a few carrots, a green bean or two, and “horror of horrors” a French fry.  I threw up all of them.  They came to the realization I can’t have any people food.  But that French fry sure did taste good going down, and I’d bet I was the envy of every raven in the neighborhood.

Then I got too much water because I have a tendency to drink too much … I threw that up, too.  I even projectile vomited off the couch.  Mom wasn’t happy cleaning up several spots.  She did get me outside for one of them.  I’ve also had a few “solid” accidents in the house, but at least they were near the door on non-carpeted space.  Mom wasn’t real happy about that either.  But she’s understanding.

The final straw, though, was February 6.  I didn’t eat my food as quickly as I usually do.  I’m pretty much done before anyone else.  I finished last.  It just didn’t taste good to me.  Then I wouldn’t eat my dinner either.  Only a little bit.  Mom got scared because of the vomiting and not eating, and got hold of a friend (Robin) to go the vet with us.  We went to Diamond Animal Clinic on Tudor and she got our favorite vet there, Dr. Kunce.  She told her what was going on.  It turns out I’m not vomiting.  I’m regurgitating.  There is a difference.  Who knew?  All I knew was that what went down came back up.  But I wasn’t eating and mom was crying because I don’t weigh that much to begin with and she was scared I was going to go downhill quickly and something would happen to me while she was on vacation and she wouldn’t be here to be with me.  The vet gave us some meds … I take way more than mom and pop do.  And it was kind of nice to get out and go for a car ride and meet some other dogs and their people.

We canines take more medications than our humans.

Sunday morning, Super Bowl Sunday, mom prepared my food.  Yuck.  I’m not eating that crap.  And I didn’t.  Mom tried to hand feed me some of it, but I don’t like it with the enzyme on it.  I know I’m a Beagle and should eat anything, but it looks, tastes and smells NASTY!!!  I ate a few without the enzyme when she gave me a piece or two at a time, but that was it.  And then she shoved a pill down my throat because I wouldn’t eat that either.  The indignity of it all!!!  Just put it in people food and I’ll eat it.  I promise!! 

This is a face you can trust.  Yep, I'll take my meds if you put them in chicken.

Mom was upset.  I don’t like to do that to her, but I just can’t eat that stuff.  It's really quite nasty.  She gave me a Yummy Chummy, and of course I ate that.  Then she thought maybe I’d eat rice and chicken.  She boiled some chicken and made rice.  And put the powder on it.  Now I was back to where I was supposed to be … being fed like a king.  I ate it.

Photos and earthquakes ... what a combination

On Saturday, Jan. 23, mom was taking us in for photos at David Jensen Pet-o-graphy.  She worries that some of us might be crossing the Rainbow Bridge, whatever that is, too soon and so it was a chance to get a newer photo that also has the pissant, Oliver, in it. 

And that, my friends, is the Pissant.

I don’t know why she cares.  He’s a dog that takes the paint off the wall when he screeches, he barks a lot, he hacks like a 4-pack-a-day smoker, coughs up stuff and blows snot out of his nose.  They think he’s got allergies, but no medications have helped.  It seems better when he’s outside or on walks.  Matters not to me.

Anyway, we went for our photos and David gives us jerky.  That’s some great stuff.  It smells good and tastes even better.  Of course, Ollie dogapulted off the couch and made a beeline for the jerky bag and got some out of it before they knew what he was doing.  He’s a sneaky one. 

We had fun, and we ran David through his paces.  He’s got lots of dogs at his place, big dogs.  We would have liked a chance to play sniff-the-butt, but that didn’t happen.  We didn’t get to know anyone at all.

Home we went.  To lots of food for me.  I hope this keeps up for a very long time.

Saturday night/Sunday morning (January 24), strange things happened … the earth started to shake.  It was an earthquake.  Daisy Mae and Ollie usually bark at a big one.  I think they were really scared this time because they didn’t make a sound.  I’m surprised Jade didn’t sleep through it because there’s not much that bothers her except getting fed late.

I wasn’t scared.  I was sleeping in my usual place, right next to mom’s heart.  When things started falling off the wall and the top of the fireplace, she just put her arms around me and scooped me up like I was a lightweight (oh yeah … I am), and ran through the bedroom door to stay in the hallway.  Of course, I was between her and the door, but I know she loves me and that’s why she grabbed me … ME!!!

This is a bookcase upstairs in the guest room.  Glad I wasn't sleeping near that.  But I wouldn't be, because mom doesn't let us upstairs anymore.  Some (I know it's the pissant), do things they're not supposed to, and Jade is snoopy and gets into everything and makes a big mess by knocking down things and scattering them all over.

The others were running around back and forth into the living room, dining room, kitchen, but there was no danger of anyone getting outside.  And the things that were crashing down were in the bedroom and upstairs.  Very strange, it was.  My mom is very afraid of earthquakes, and I expect I was as comforting to her as she was to me, cuz she just continued to hold on to me.  Finally it was over and she and I slept on the couch with the light on.  Just in case.

The Sunday brunch continued with big amounts of food.  I’m still doing a lot of chores outside, but there seems to be a slowdown … but there is one thing that seems to be much worse now … the smell that comes out of my butt … it even smells bad to me … and I’m a dog!!!