I’ve been very quiet of late; I’ve been waiting for word from a cardiologist about one of our pups and it’s been a cloud over our heads. Last Friday Honey, our oldest toy poodle had an episode in the middle of the night that was concerning. I thought perhaps it was an asthma attack. I rocked her in my arms and caressed her ears, a relaxer for her, until the moment passed and she slept. The following morning she coughed and wheezed again. I called the vet and they said bring her in right away as they close at noon. I was slated to teach at 1:00 and I hadn’t bathed or washed my hair yet so I donned a hat, threw on some clothes, called Deb at the shop to let her know I would be a bit late for the class and we headed for Chester Basin Animal Hospital.
The news wasn’t great. After the stethoscope exam, followed by an x-ray and blood test, we were told our baby had a heart murmur, an enlarged heart and two lungs full of fluid. The words congestive heart failure were mentioned along with other possibilities, some not so good, others an easy fix. Diuretics were prescribed and we went home a little more dismal than the drive there. Honey responded well to the meds and her lungs cleared quickly, I could tell by the depth of her breathing and slower heart rate. I was feeling optimistic as my heart wrestled with my intellect. I was working on the premise that until the experts call it she was fine, but after the followup visit and ECG I had to accept the verdict, congestive heart failure.
Honey is 11, our first poodle. She is as dear to me as if she birthed from my womb. Experts say that we spend a lot of time starring into the eyes of our furry kids creating bonds that equal that of a human child, mother relationship and I'll agree. I can’t begin to explain my connection to all of my babies, but its love it its purest form and although I care for them, protect, love and feed them, they give me far more in return.
Since this all happened I was happy to dwell in Denialville. predicting easy, fixable stuff. There is always hope until it’s taken away. Apparently there’s a study going on researching slug slime. As slugs move along the ground and grass they leave a trail of slime that carries a parasite that causes all her symptoms. This is easily fixable with Advantage Three, the tick and flea killer. I had my fingers crossed for this option and it could still be the underlying cause, but the word came down today that she is in the first stages of heart failure and although somewhere down the road there is a bleak ending for my Honey, she should live for a few more years comfortably. She will be on meds that sometimes destroy the kidneys and she will have to play less hard and be constantly monitored for decrease in heart function. Not exactly the most fun for a little dog that won’t understand. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to die while running with her pack, catching the ball or chasing the one that does. She would die with a smile, not a bad way to go. She has this funny habit of running back and forth in front of the one that catches the ball as they bring it back to me. She runs offense like in basketball, blocking the player so he can’t make a move. If she’s the one catching the ball she expertly works it back and forth with her paws like a pro soccer player. She’s adorably hilarious!
I had a German Shepard that passed a few years before her and I handled it badly. I loved that boy more than life. He was my first dog; he came to live with me at 18 months old and had a teddy bear temperament. He was smart and beautiful and our life together was pure bliss. He died at age nine and I suffered greatly; mourning for years, and his collar still hangs from the backdoor knob. I didn’t think I would ever love another dog, it broke my heart to even think about betraying his memory. Somehow I thought another pup would replace him and it felt disloyal. I thought I loved him more than I could ever love another dog, but it’s funny, I love my four poodles even more, above and beyond, my heart must have grown bigger to fill it all in. I asked someone once who always had a new pup soon after the older dog had passed, “Which dog have you loved the most” and he said without pause, “The one I have now”. I thought a lot about what he said and I began to see it differently, a new dog is not a replacement. Anyone that loves and has lost a pet knows they can never be replaced. They always keep that special piece of our heart exclusive to them and our hearts grow to accommodate all of them. The new pet is just that, a new experience, a new beginning....simply new.
If not for rug hooking I wouldn’t have my sweet Honey. A customer’s husband wanted to purchase an Ott-lite for his wife for Christmas and I told him I was planning a trip to the city that weekend and could deliver it to save shipping costs. So we planned to meet in front of Staples. He called to say that he was running 20 minutes late. A friend and I had already completed our Staples shopping and thought we would go into Pet’s Unlimited to see the animals. Okay, stop that....don’t be saying “Oh Christine, puppy mills....at that time, I didn’t know such a thing existed.
So we go in and there she is behind the glass. My friend notices how I’m lingering in front of that particular window and say’s “You should buy her” but I shake my head. I hadn’t even thought about another dog, but there was a tug on my heart strings, I could feel the tingle of it as I looked at her sweet, little face.
She was a mess. Covered in excrement she was a sight, but her little tail wagged and she pranced around having fun with the other pups in the cage. My friend said, “you should hold her”, pushing me closer to the ultimate decision. The staff wouldn’t let me touch her because apparently, crazy nut jobs would come in with parvo on their hands and try to touch the puppies to make them sick. Parvo is a death sentence to puppies. I can’t even imagine something so completely insane.
Anyway, I called my husband who was working in Alberta. It didn’t seem like a decision I should make on my own and I needed a push over the fence I perched on. I asked what he thought about a puppy and he asked if it was already in the car. I laughed and said no, and he said because I’m left alone so much I should have company and that cinched it. They let me hold her then, she was no longer their worry. She was a stinky little critter; a bath was going to be high on the list. I bought a carry cage and off we headed home, wondering what I’d just done. A poodle for goodness sake. About as far a cry from a German Shepard as they come. I knew nothing about this little bundle and her needs. This was going to be a learning experience for us both.
We were inseparable. She and I had the best times together. Life seemed to have more purpose; a hole had been filled that I never realized existed. She went everywhere with me and hung out at the shop, greeting all the customers like it was her job. She was the cutest little peanut ever.
She was born on September 11th so I always said good things happen on that day too. She turned 11 this year and I was planning on having her for another nine, 20 years being the only acceptable age before thinking about the inevitable. Despite the horror stories of pet shop dogs, she was always the healthiest of our pack and the other three came from reputable breeders. She’s the most fun with toys and balls and loves everyone, gets along well with people and pets. She is just a Honey of a girl.
The initial shock hasn’t worn off yet so I’m misty, my throat seems lumpy. We are entering into a world I know nothing about so I need to get educated. Once familiar with all of this it will be less scary. I’ll do whatever needs to be done to give her a quality life as long as possible. We’re pals she and I, we’ll continue to look after one another for as long as we can......
The news wasn’t great. After the stethoscope exam, followed by an x-ray and blood test, we were told our baby had a heart murmur, an enlarged heart and two lungs full of fluid. The words congestive heart failure were mentioned along with other possibilities, some not so good, others an easy fix. Diuretics were prescribed and we went home a little more dismal than the drive there. Honey responded well to the meds and her lungs cleared quickly, I could tell by the depth of her breathing and slower heart rate. I was feeling optimistic as my heart wrestled with my intellect. I was working on the premise that until the experts call it she was fine, but after the followup visit and ECG I had to accept the verdict, congestive heart failure.
Honey is 11, our first poodle. She is as dear to me as if she birthed from my womb. Experts say that we spend a lot of time starring into the eyes of our furry kids creating bonds that equal that of a human child, mother relationship and I'll agree. I can’t begin to explain my connection to all of my babies, but its love it its purest form and although I care for them, protect, love and feed them, they give me far more in return.
Since this all happened I was happy to dwell in Denialville. predicting easy, fixable stuff. There is always hope until it’s taken away. Apparently there’s a study going on researching slug slime. As slugs move along the ground and grass they leave a trail of slime that carries a parasite that causes all her symptoms. This is easily fixable with Advantage Three, the tick and flea killer. I had my fingers crossed for this option and it could still be the underlying cause, but the word came down today that she is in the first stages of heart failure and although somewhere down the road there is a bleak ending for my Honey, she should live for a few more years comfortably. She will be on meds that sometimes destroy the kidneys and she will have to play less hard and be constantly monitored for decrease in heart function. Not exactly the most fun for a little dog that won’t understand. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to die while running with her pack, catching the ball or chasing the one that does. She would die with a smile, not a bad way to go. She has this funny habit of running back and forth in front of the one that catches the ball as they bring it back to me. She runs offense like in basketball, blocking the player so he can’t make a move. If she’s the one catching the ball she expertly works it back and forth with her paws like a pro soccer player. She’s adorably hilarious!
I had a German Shepard that passed a few years before her and I handled it badly. I loved that boy more than life. He was my first dog; he came to live with me at 18 months old and had a teddy bear temperament. He was smart and beautiful and our life together was pure bliss. He died at age nine and I suffered greatly; mourning for years, and his collar still hangs from the backdoor knob. I didn’t think I would ever love another dog, it broke my heart to even think about betraying his memory. Somehow I thought another pup would replace him and it felt disloyal. I thought I loved him more than I could ever love another dog, but it’s funny, I love my four poodles even more, above and beyond, my heart must have grown bigger to fill it all in. I asked someone once who always had a new pup soon after the older dog had passed, “Which dog have you loved the most” and he said without pause, “The one I have now”. I thought a lot about what he said and I began to see it differently, a new dog is not a replacement. Anyone that loves and has lost a pet knows they can never be replaced. They always keep that special piece of our heart exclusive to them and our hearts grow to accommodate all of them. The new pet is just that, a new experience, a new beginning....simply new.
If not for rug hooking I wouldn’t have my sweet Honey. A customer’s husband wanted to purchase an Ott-lite for his wife for Christmas and I told him I was planning a trip to the city that weekend and could deliver it to save shipping costs. So we planned to meet in front of Staples. He called to say that he was running 20 minutes late. A friend and I had already completed our Staples shopping and thought we would go into Pet’s Unlimited to see the animals. Okay, stop that....don’t be saying “Oh Christine, puppy mills....at that time, I didn’t know such a thing existed.
So we go in and there she is behind the glass. My friend notices how I’m lingering in front of that particular window and say’s “You should buy her” but I shake my head. I hadn’t even thought about another dog, but there was a tug on my heart strings, I could feel the tingle of it as I looked at her sweet, little face.
She was a mess. Covered in excrement she was a sight, but her little tail wagged and she pranced around having fun with the other pups in the cage. My friend said, “you should hold her”, pushing me closer to the ultimate decision. The staff wouldn’t let me touch her because apparently, crazy nut jobs would come in with parvo on their hands and try to touch the puppies to make them sick. Parvo is a death sentence to puppies. I can’t even imagine something so completely insane.
Anyway, I called my husband who was working in Alberta. It didn’t seem like a decision I should make on my own and I needed a push over the fence I perched on. I asked what he thought about a puppy and he asked if it was already in the car. I laughed and said no, and he said because I’m left alone so much I should have company and that cinched it. They let me hold her then, she was no longer their worry. She was a stinky little critter; a bath was going to be high on the list. I bought a carry cage and off we headed home, wondering what I’d just done. A poodle for goodness sake. About as far a cry from a German Shepard as they come. I knew nothing about this little bundle and her needs. This was going to be a learning experience for us both.
We were inseparable. She and I had the best times together. Life seemed to have more purpose; a hole had been filled that I never realized existed. She went everywhere with me and hung out at the shop, greeting all the customers like it was her job. She was the cutest little peanut ever.
She was born on September 11th so I always said good things happen on that day too. She turned 11 this year and I was planning on having her for another nine, 20 years being the only acceptable age before thinking about the inevitable. Despite the horror stories of pet shop dogs, she was always the healthiest of our pack and the other three came from reputable breeders. She’s the most fun with toys and balls and loves everyone, gets along well with people and pets. She is just a Honey of a girl.
The initial shock hasn’t worn off yet so I’m misty, my throat seems lumpy. We are entering into a world I know nothing about so I need to get educated. Once familiar with all of this it will be less scary. I’ll do whatever needs to be done to give her a quality life as long as possible. We’re pals she and I, we’ll continue to look after one another for as long as we can......
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