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The Library => Haley Center Basement => Topic started by: Kaos on November 05, 2019, 01:32:24 PM
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My dog -- sometimes my only friend -- had a seizure Sunday. Vet didn't seem worried, just watch him.
He was okay until last night about midnight. Between then and seven he had about four more. Took him to the vet at seven and he's had one or two there.
He had a cancer in his eye several years ago. They took that out and he recovered. They found a huge tumor in his shoulder about three months ago. Took it out, said it was malignant but contained and they had it all.
Now they say they think he probably has a brain tumor. Either that or a blood clot in the brain.
My options are:
1)Send him to LSU or Auburn (and he will likely have to be sedated to keep from having more seizures along the way) for an MRI which will (doctor says) only confirm what he has and offer no real avenues for curing it
2) Try seizure medication which will only prolong it -- and he will still have seizures as they increase the dose until it finally stops working (or if it's a clot, he will die here regardless)
3) Let him go
When I got divorced, this dog was just about my only friend. I'd sit on the back porch for hours talking to him. And he always listened. Never judged. Even now, when I've got a lot on my mind I'll sit out there with him and he helps me sort it all out.
I've always had dogs around. My kids have dogs, my parents had dogs. But I'm not an animal person really. I've only really loved two dogs in my life. My first one and this one.
His name was supposed to be Barkley, but he was so fat when he was little he'd walk three or four steps and then just fall over asleep. So we called him Tucker -- for Tuckered out. Tucker Barkley is his official name.
I know what I've got to do. I can't watch him suffer like this. But I think I'd honestly rather it were me.
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I posted about 4 months ago that we had to put one of ours down. It was the first time for us as all our previous pups just picked a night, a good spot and checked out. This was much tougher because we knew exactly when it was going to happen. We had an appointment. But we didnt hesitate because we knew what the right decision was. In fact, we prolonged it out of selfishness. You know what the right call is if you know your buddy.
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I posted about 4 months ago that we had to put one of ours down. It was the first time for us as all our previous pups just picked a night, a good spot and checked out. This was much tougher because we knew exactly when it was going to happen. We had an appointment. But we didnt hesitate because we knew what the right decision was. In fact, we prolonged it out of selfishness. You know what the right call is if you know your buddy.
The dog he was between seizures last night wasn't my dog. He was in there, but buried in a mass of confusion.
He'd have a seizure that lasted a minute or two and then he'd stagger to his feet and start pacing around the house.
At one point he went through the whole house, sniffed every single plug outlet and then came back and stood by me, staring me in the eyes with this intense look like he was saying "well, all those are good. You're welcome." And then he went and sat on the Roomba. He did all kinds of odd things I've never seen him do.
What's weird is my other dogs were/are now scared of him. If he went near them they growled and barked at him.
I know I've got to let him go. It's just not easy.
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Sucks to hear that, brother. I know we have all been there at least once, but it doesn't make this any easier. You know what you have to do, but just don't want to.
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Sorry to hear this, brother.
We had to put down our Jordan last year. Wife and I got him about 2 months after we were married. Little guy had been through everything with us.
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There will be a time when the one we have now heads to fur baby heaven. Let me go ahead and forewarn everyone. There will be wailing and gnashing of teeth. We've always loved all our pets equally and each one has it's own, unique personality. But this one.....
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I know what I've got to do. I can't watch him suffer like this. But I think I'd honestly rather it were me.
You answered your own question. Keeping an animal alive while it suffers is a inhumane.
I had a neighbor pass several years ago. He had a dog named Choo-Choo. These two would run all over the community. Miles and miles. Well the neighbor had a heart attack and died in his living room. The ex wife asked if I would "take care" of Choo-Choo. She said the dog had been sick and the neighbor could not make himself do it.
I walk in the garage and this emaciated dog is laying in a cardboard box. The neighbor had to pick it up and take it outside to try and use the restroom. The dog was barely eating.
I took the dog to the vet and explained. They put the dog down out of mercy. How long would the neighbor have let this pup suffer because it hurt him?
As men, and owners, we have to do the right thing, no matter how it hurts.
Love the dog enough to not let it suffer.
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I posted about 4 months ago that we had to put one of ours down. It was the first time for us as all our previous pups just picked a night, a good spot and checked out. This was much tougher because we knew exactly when it was going to happen. We had an appointment. But we didnt hesitate because we knew what the right decision was. In fact, we prolonged it out of selfishness. You know what the right call is if you know your buddy.
Yeah but you have those little purse dogs, it might as well be a cat. I'm not sure anyone cared.
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Yeah but you have those little purse dogs, it might as well be a cat. I'm not sure anyone cared.
You take that back. He would not fit in my purse. Wait....I mean.....you take that back.
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He's gone.
My baby boy -- my only boy -- just drifted off.
This is mostly for me, but my man has a few stories worth telling.
I Can't Believe I Ate the Whole Thing
When he was not much bigger than the pup in the attached picture he found a big wooden paintbrush on the floor. He ate everything but the metal strip that held the bristles on. For days he crapped wood pulp. So we decided that if we left him alone, we needed to put him in the closet in the den and we put one of those wooden gates in front of hit so he couldn't get out.
Should have known. He ate through the wooden bars. From there he climbed up onto the couch I used to have (stress used to have) and ate both arms completely down to the wooden frame. When we got home he had opened a gash in the middle of one of the cushions and was gleefully yanking stuffing out of it and hurling it into the air.
I was pretty pissed off and I yelled at him. Pointed at the mess he made and told him he was bad. He was mortified. I swear I saw tears in his eyes. The dog never tore up anything else as long as he lived. He didn't even tear his stuffed toys up. Never even nibbled on a shoe or any of the furniture or anything else. In retrospect, that was pretty amazing.
You Go Get It, Dumbass
Tucker loved to play fetch. Once. Throw a ball or a stick or a frisbee or anything and he would haul ass to go get it. And he'd bring it right back to you. He was a little hesitant about handing it over and you'd have to coax him to put it down, but he'd eventually do it, and he'd grin happily.
Throw it again?
He'd look at you like you were the biggest moron on the planet. "I already went and got that damn thing one time. If you want it, you go get it you dumbass."
And then he'd trot off and go sit in a chair. If you were stupid enough to go get it from where you'd thrown it, he'd sit there and watch you play your own game of fetch for his amusement.
Yes, Officer, That's the Man
When we first moved to Baldwin County, we moved into a subdivision that was just being built. He had a big fenced back yard where he stayed most of the time.
Tucker didn't bark much, but one night he kept on no matter what we did to get him to be quiet. Woke the neighbors up. As I'm on the back porch trying to figure out what had him stirred up I saw motion over next to my neighbor's house.
Long story short, I ended up watching out an upstairs window, on the phone with the Sheriff's Office, while a crackhead pried open my garage and tried to break into my car. In order to try to quiet Tucker, he was scooping up handfuls of Tuck's food and flinging it over the fence. Tucker wasn't having any of his shenanigans.
The guy eventually fled, got cornered by the sheriff and they captured him and his accomplice. They also recovered an asston of stuff these jackholes had stolen from other garages in the neighborhood. So my new neighbors got their possessions back thanks to Tucker's insistent barking.
For several weeks people would leave gift baskets on the porch for Tucker. He didn't want their thanks, he didn't like dog treats, He would only hold them politely in his mouth until he could dispose of them.
He was a good boy. He was MY dog. Why is all this motherfucking dust in the air?
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Sorry about Tucker. Lost our Hammy over a year ago, and I still call our new dog (Pepper) Hammy all the time. We waited almost a year to get another dog and in retrospect, that was a mistake. My only advice to you now is to get another dog soon, so you can have the same kind of memories of this one too someday.
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To Tucker...
:bar:
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To Tucker...
:bar:
What he said
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Hims watching down on you. He's in a better place
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Sorry about Tucker, K. Take Buzzy's advice and go get another one. Not because you're trying, or could ever replace him. It just diverts your attention to the new personality. Plus, they need us as much as we need them.
We had 3 for the longest time and are down to the one now. My wife has been actively looking for another one, first as a companion for our little buddy, but second, not to have that void when he does leave us. He's as spry and loving and active as ever. But he'll also soon be 13.
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Man, I am so sorry. I have been there and my losses have never fully healed.
When the Norwegian Forest Cat crossed over, it was deeply devastating for the ex-wife and me. He was the perfect cat and trained me into the cat-man that I am today. I still love him and miss him dearly.
He went everywhere with us when we traveled for work. Ohio, Michigan, and Illinois.
He wouldn't eat raw shrimp, they had to be boiled in Zatarain's. lol
Loved tuna juice. So you know the reaction when anything with a can top was removed.
Meet Puddykatt aka Pudder.
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Some dogs are blessed to have a good family. You did that for him.
Keep the memories and KNOW he had a great life.
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Tucker forever...
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I grieve for you and your loss. You provided him with a life that he most likely would have never had anywhere else. A strong bond between an animal and its owner is something some folks cannot understand and never will.
Take your time, grieve and remember.
When your ready open your heart and home again to another, they all deserve it.
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I was thinking about this Tuesday night while out at the world famous National Peanut Festival. Went in one of the exhibit buildings and there was a booth there that had two absolutely beautiful Australian Shepherds. They had these vests on with pockets you could put money in and the cash is supposed to go to cancer research for dogs. Cats too, I suppose. Couldn't help but throw a few bucks in just for the opportunity to love on them for a few.
Aussies are bad ass, BTW. I lived in Gentilly Trailer Park for a couple of years and our next door neighbor had an Aussie named Mike. He stayed at our trailer more than his owner's. Every time I would go jogging, Mike would come out and run with me, staying a few feet in front. There were all kinds of dogs in that park and it was his mission any time one came running out, to either beat the shit out of them or at the very least, administer a stern but fair lecture.
Mike was cool.
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I was thinking about this Tuesday night while out at the world famous National Peanut Festival. Went in one of the exhibit buildings and there was a booth there that had two absolutely beautiful Australian Shepherds. They had these vests on with pockets you could put money in and the cash is supposed to go to cancer research for dogs. Cats too, I suppose. Couldn't help but throw a few bucks in just for the opportunity to love on them for a few.
Aussies are bad ass, BTW. I lived in Gentilly Trailer Park for a couple of years and our next door neighbor had an Aussie named Mike. He stayed at our trailer more than his owner's. Every time I would go jogging, Mike would come out and run with me, staying a few feet in front. There were all kinds of dogs in that park and it was his mission any time one came running out, to either beat the shit out of them or at the very least, administer a stern but fair lecture.
Mike was cool.
If there were a like button....
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That sucks in all the worst ways, K. I'm sorry for your loss.
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Thanks to all of you.
It's weird. I guess I'll get used to it, but I left a meeting early to come home to let him in. I knew he'd want to be inside because it was storming. And about halfway home it hit me that he wasn't out there.
I don't know about a new dog. Maybe. In a while. I just can't imagine I could ever find one as even tempered, as laid back, as quietly supporting and as easy to care for as Tucker. Wasn't really a dog so much as he was a roommate that I had to feed. After the couch incident I can't remember him ever doing anything bad. He didn't tear things up, dig holes, shit or piss in the house, or anything. I didn't have to train him. He just knew instinctively when he got in my truck to sit in his seat, look out the window and enjoy the ride. Well, he did dig a red-dirt tunnel under his house one summer and lived under there for a while. Which sucked when it rained and filled the tunnel half up with water and he'd come swimming out covered in goo wanting to sit in your lap.
Anyway, thanks for the kind words and thoughts. He was a good dog and it would make him really happy to know other people knew it.
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Thanks to all of you.
It's weird. I guess I'll get used to it, but I left a meeting early to come home to let him in. I knew he'd want to be inside because it was storming. And about halfway home it hit me that he wasn't out there.
I don't know about a new dog. Maybe. In a while. I just can't imagine I could ever find one as even tempered, as laid back, as quietly supporting and as easy to care for as Tucker. Wasn't really a dog so much as he was a roommate that I had to feed. After the couch incident I can't remember him ever doing anything bad. He didn't tear things up, dig holes, shit or piss in the house, or anything. I didn't have to train him. He just knew instinctively when he got in my truck to sit in his seat, look out the window and enjoy the ride. Well, he did dig a red-dirt tunnel under his house one summer and lived under there for a while. Which sucked when it rained and filled the tunnel half up with water and he'd come swimming out covered in goo wanting to sit in your lap.
Anyway, thanks for the kind words and thoughts. He was a good dog and it would make him really happy to know other people knew it.
I get it dude. The older I get the more I like dogs - than people. They don’t care. They don’t judge you. They just love ya. With no caveats.
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Kids gave me a stuffed animal for Christmas.
It’s uncanny.
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Here we go again. My oldest girl's dog woke up wobbly Sunday. Not normal.
Dog has been with us more than 16 years and was an adult when she showed up at our house back then. She's been my girl's pretty much constant companion. I don't remember not having her around, honestly. Entirely possible the dog is 20+.
Took her to emergency vet. Advanced cancer. Nothing they can do.
I don't get it. Saturday night she was running around the house. Jumping from the couch over to the coffee table to get into a plate of food my kid left. Going up and down the stairs. Begging for food. Just being normal.
Sunday morning at 5:15 she was standing outside my bedroom door making rumbling sounds. Head down. Tail down. Eyes unfocused. Has been feeble and just standing around staring ever since. Looks utterly miserable. If she's no better tomorrow, she's going in for the last time I guess.
Sitting here listening to my daughter sobbing on the porch. Dog just standing next to her staring off into space.
I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix it.
Son of a bitch.
2020 blows.
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Damn I hate that for you man. I fear that we have an episode of this coming in the not too distant future as well.
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Damn dude. Not again.
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Awful. Sorry you have to go through it so soon.
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She's gonna have to put her down today. Got worse overnight. Neck swollen really badly.
Not gonna bore you with a ton of the sentimental "great dog" stories but I do have one.
In Christmas Story, Old Man Parker was a turkey connoisseur. My dad was a ham aficionado. He waited eagerly every year for ham season which started with a Thanksgiving ham which was followed by a Christmas ham, followed by a New Year's ham. Not long after would come the Easter ham after which he entered the long hamless desert that stretched at least until July and the possibility of a Fourth of July ham with potato salad.
Mid-summer 2005 or so, Gracie showed up at our house. We don't know where she came from. Nobody ever claimed her, but she claimed us. Just a odd-looking black dog with a curly tail that parked itself on the doormat of our front porch and had no intention of leaving. The timing was strange, we'd had two dogs (weird dogs) that had died within a month or so of each other and didn't have a pet. One of the dogs that had died was a large black dog that was allegedly the son of a dalmation. The other was a little brown hound/feist/whatever mix. This new dog that showed up was essentially the same shape as the little one and the same color as the big one. My girls convinced themselves that God had sent this pup to take the place of those two, that she carried them in her soul.
Dog was nice enough and friendly enough. But it had an independent, stubborn streak. It sometimes liked to be alone and would disappear for days. Would just show back up, covered in burrs and mud. Happy as hell. It also severely punished any transgressions it felt had been dealt. Leaving it alone was the most egregious foul you could commit. Leave her in the house by herself? Shit in the middle of my bed. Shit in my ex wife's shoes. Shredded garbage. Shit right in front of the television. Don't tell me dogs aren't vindictive. This one knew exactly what it was doing.
So Thanksgiving comes. Over the river and through the woods. Time to go to see the grands for a few days. My parents have a big house, large lot. Girls are afraid to leave this dog at the house because she will probably run off and they're worried about her not making it home. Damn sure can't leave her in the house for a week-long shit-a-palooza. My parents are like, just bring her. We love dogs.
It's a four-hour drive. Dog is great on the trip. Just rides in the back looking out the window.
Get to my parent's Tuesday night. Dog perfectly behaved, doesn't shit everywhere, stands at the door and quietly, politely asks to go out. Parents are enamored.
Thanksgiving. Mom has been cooking since 6 a.m. for the noon lunch. Ham came out of the oven about 10:30 and she put it on the counter to cool. You know where this is heading.
The kitchen has wrap around counters. One counter faces a sitting room. There's a couch with its back to the kitchen, a six-foot walkway gap separating it from the counter. So basically you come out of the kitchen and can walk behind the couch to the window.
It's nearing 11. My brother and I are outside with our kids throwing the football. Dad's on the porch drinking tea, watching us with visions of ham on his mind. He's already snuck four or five pieces of it. Mom is inside finishing up. Dog has been following behind her, watching her every move all morning. "It's so cute," mom says.
Apparently mom went to change clothes or something. Dad gets up to get a refill of the tea. I hear the screen door screech and then slam back in that satisfying way only a wooden screen door can do. The next thing I hear is this ungodly earth shaking noise. It's like "GUUUUAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMFFFFFFFAAAAAKKKKKKKKK"
I rush inside, girls hot on my heels afraid dad has had some kind of accident or medical event. He's standing in the door of the dining room, facing the kitchen. His face is a mask of rage and pain, his fists clenching and unclenching.
I push past him and see, there on the counter, the dog. Her head is buried in the pan of ham. Her entire body is jerking back and forth rapidly as she attacks the meat. Horrible smacking, gnawing and gulping noises fill the room. It's like a lion ripping into the carcass of a dead wildebeest.
I scream her name and her head pops up to look at me. My girls have crowded in on either side of me and are screaming too.
Ham juice covers her black snout and drips from her jaws. Her face literally glistens from warm ham drippings. Her neck and chest are coated with ham fat and little chunks of shredded pink ham meat. She stares at me briefly and barely hesitates before turning again to savagely attack the ham.
When we advanced on her, she sprang from the counter and ran through the house dripping ham grease behind her like a blood trail. It took us a good ten minutes to corral her and get her out the door. She spent the rest of Thanksgiving staked to a tree as far away from the house and my dad's ire as we could put her.
Thanksgiving was ruined. My dad was beside himself. There was no saving the ham from the damage she'd inflicted. Apparently this dog climbed on the couch back and leaped six feet across the gap, somehow managing to correctly guesstimate the angle needed to slide onto the counter and not hit the cabinets that overhung it. The gap wasn't big. It took skill. Nobody really appreciated the effort that took.
We ended up leaving a day early because he just wasn't getting over it and the girls were worried about the dog getting rained on or running away or whatever. Gracie was never again welcome at my parent's house. It took my dad several years before he could forgive her and even tolerate her at my house on the few occasions they visited.
It's funny to him now that enough time has passed. When I talked to my dad this morning, he said "where ever she goes next, I hope there's plenty of ham."
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Sorry you're having to deal with that again. Never gets easier.
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That is a great story!
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Damn, K. Hate to hear this, but thanks for sharing that story!
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(https://media1.tenor.com/images/0eedeaa6db180398fdbf42098b61b010/tenor.gif?itemid=4071960) (https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Ftenor.com%2Fview%2Fpickle-surprise-gif-4071960&psig=AOvVaw18PBY5aVQqm23eHvknmti1&ust=1587581351210000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAIQjRxqFwoTCKjagNOX-ugCFQAAAAAdAAAAABAE)
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Here's the newest addition to the Snags household. An empty water jug is pretty much all this guy needs for hours of entertainment. After we had to put one of our Pekingese pups down last year, the only thing you can do is go get another one. The cool thing is that this fur ball does the exact same thing the other one did. Come near him and he immediately hits his back, shows you that belly and says, "Here, getcha' some of this."
(https://scontent-dfw5-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/93941932_10221852931613363_3344409832743501824_n.jpg?_nc_cat=109&_nc_sid=8024bb&_nc_ohc=fFFfMIrMeOgAX-blbO0&_nc_ht=scontent-dfw5-1.xx&oh=ad35b695342d5266c7d2f254e4b43ce5&oe=5EC622AB)
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Sorry you are dealing with this, especially so soon. They are family.
But I would not have gotten over that as quickly as your dad about the ham. I love my dogs and everything but I will kill them both with my bare hands over ham.
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Here's the newest addition to the Snags household. An empty water jug is pretty much all this guy needs for hours of entertainment. After we had to put one of our Pekingese pups down last year, the only thing you can do is go get another one. The cool thing is that this fur ball does the exact same thing the other one did. Come near him and he immediately hits his back, shows you that belly and says, "Here, getcha' some of this."
(https://scontent-dfw5-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/93941932_10221852931613363_3344409832743501824_n.jpg?_nc_cat=109&_nc_sid=8024bb&_nc_ohc=fFFfMIrMeOgAX-blbO0&_nc_ht=scontent-dfw5-1.xx&oh=ad35b695342d5266c7d2f254e4b43ce5&oe=5EC622AB)
I do the exact same thing but I’m not wanting my belly rubbed.
What am I saying, you already know this.