All alone

Well, it happened.  I came home Tuesday night from work; expecting to take Milo to the vet as a follow up from his issue on Thursday....I came home alone.  I got home to pick him up and he was lethargic. Slow.  I had to pick him up and carry him down the stairs.  For some reason  I thought he was just tired from the stroke. Never mind he has been doing really well the day or two before.

We went ahead with the blood-work, to see if maybe there was some issues.  I started calling people...we got some of the results and I started crying.

This one was totally harder then Sissy.  I didn't want to lose Milo. Not that I wanted to lose Sammie, but I have never been shy about how I feel for Milo.  I have had Milo for 14 years...he was my child and my best friend.  I hate every minute of this...hate this.

Joe came (like a knight...) and we loved on him, I kissed him and then he went to sleep.  I have to admit that I was better prepared for this; thank you Sissy.

But the downside of this whirlwind of appointments with the vet in the last week is that I can not afford to pay for the vet.  I wrote a check and I am scrambling to find the money to fill it.  I could kick myself but I couldn't NOT bring him to the vet.  Why do they have to be so expensive?

I haven't slept in my apartment since Monday night. My ex has been great and I've been staying with him.  I haven't slept through this. I actually went to work on Wednesday, worked virtually til noon today and then I'm going to sleep in tomorrow and clean Joe's house.  I haven't wanted to be at home.

I haven't been alone for 14 years. I honestly don't remember a time where I have not been around someone or one/two dog.  I don't look forward to being home again. I really dread it.  But I don't think I can move in with Joe; or any of my friends really.  It's just so daunting.

I am going to miss Milo so very much. We had a relationship for the last 14 years that bordered on obsession for me. I delighted in that dog. Not that I didn't love Sissy, I adored her but Milo....he was my world. And Milo and I went through so much before we even got Sam.  I would never say that the time before the ex and Sissy were ideal. I was rubbish at being a "parent". But I wasn't any better when you added another 12 years with Sam and being married (and then divorced).  I like to think I became a good  parent with the help of Joe and just the patience and subtle guidance of my "kids".

I used to (lovely) call them my idiots.  Most people got that it was a term of endearment.  And I would never actually call them idiots because they were my everything.

I can't seem to find a good stopping point of this blog...I don't think I'll ever be able to explain to people what he meant and what she meant to me.  It meant I wasn't a horrible person because how could you be so horrible if you loved and were loved by the best damn dogs ever?  My dogs defined how I felt about me; my core being.

Milo is going to be missed.  Joe and I were going to go to his folks house this weekend to spread Sammie's ashes.  Tuesday changed that plan. Makes sense to kill to birds kind of thing.  I like that they'll be done together there.  For some reason, the thoughts of ashes being spread make me immediately think of them at the farm. Mom and Dad's house, Sammie wasn't keen on being outside without us being there and she was the same for the house Joe and I had together.  But the farm is where Sammie took a flying leap (and I mean flying) into the pond. She was young and was absolutely terrified of what the result was.  Having to swim the whole way back to shore was more work then she wanted. That's probably why she became so lazy.  Milo loved stalking the cats. I think he was just going to play with them but they tended to be smarter and never let him get close.  These are the reasons I want them at my ex-in-laws...they got a chance to be real dogs.

I cry at odd times.  Mostly when I'm alone and I find my mind wandering. I keep looking up, expecting them to be coming up the stairs....but I know they're no longer here.  So I cry but laugh too.  I remember the good times I had with them.

And the worst part? I want another dog already. I can not stand the idea of not having a dog.  My life is not complete without a dog. Ideally, I want my babies back....but I don't think I'm going to be blessed with that.  So I'm starting the search. I can't afford anything right now but I think that I should start thinking about what it is I do want in my next dog and then I can ask Joe to research the hell out of it.  He gets a kick over that. But I know that I'm doing the right thing. No one wants to be alone and I'm someone that needs to company.

Milo James and Sammie Leah

As a side note....half jest / half hope.....Should you feel the need to contribute financially to the mental well being of Shannon (i.e. pay on the vet bill), let me know! :)

Sammie is home

I brought Sissy home last night.  Its good to have her here.  It actually made me feel better.  I cried harder then I did when I actually put her to sleep.  I guess I thought that the passing would be the hardest part.  But her ashes made me cry very hard and long.  She is really gone.

I know this all sounds overly dramatic and girly but this actually hit me hard.  I was prepared for Milo (to a point).  He's older and I just figured he would be the first.  Sammie was so sudden.  I wasn't prepared.  And I'm always prepared.  Within a 2 hour period it was decided and executed.  How can you be prepared for that?

And the amount of second guessing and wishing thinking has me up at night.  What if I had just decided on so little information?  What if I should have tried a different option? Did I kill her?  I know it's unrealistic to think things that could have gone differently because it happened the way it's supposed to have happened.

And the total outpouring of love for her is surprising.  I realize that I withhold my love from people.  Not something I'm proud of, mind you, but I give everything to my dogs.  My fur babies have my heart.

I'm putting a scrapbook together for Sissy Girl.  I take that back, I'm not putting it together...I'm paying someone to put it together.  I picked out the paper and book; all the pictures.  I've given it to the lady and I hope to get it back soon.  I'm going to put some pictures on here so you can see them.


I swear this will be the last time I vomit up more stuff about Sissy girl....well maybe I'll post one time after I get the scrapbook.

Thank you for letting me indulge in this.  I promise to go back to my old cynical and bitchy self soon.

It happened

I came home last night and found Sissy Girl lethargic and feverish.  Got her to an emergency vet and within an hour and a half she was gone. There were tumors in her stomach and spleen.  She was lethargic because of blood loss from the tumors in her stomach.  The only other option was to do surgery and I did not think that was really an option for her.

Called the parental units and let them know.  Called the practice husband; who came to the vet and sat with us when it was time.  And waited for the vet to come back with the stuff.  She wasn't actually aware I think.  She wasn't feeling good.

First syringe was to put her to sleep, under sedation.  She just kind of closed her eyes and slept.  I couldn't stay for the syringe that stopped her heart.  I couldn't watch her die.  Joe stayed with her.  He went above and beyond and I'm so glad he was there. I just wasn't able to do that.  Probably a chicken shit way to do it but I think she wasn't aware of me being there after going to sleep.

I'm having her cremated and I'll keep her ashes.  I want to find a container for them; so I can put them on a shelf.

I have to say that I thought Milo would go first.  I wasn't prepared for this.  It was sudden.  But it was the best thing for her.

Now, today....I keep expecting her to jump up on the bed, start whining or shed a pound of hair in 3minutes.  I listen for her and expect to see her out of the corner of my eye.


It was weird walking only Milo.  It'll be weird not brushing her everyday.  The belly rubs and chasing her around the house.  The crowing....I'm going to really miss her talking to me when I come home.  I just bought 50 pounds of dog food...this is going to last us a couple of months.

Sissy girl was a great dog, she was the most loving dog I've ever seen and she was the biggest belly whore!  You could win her over within 2 minutes if you just bent over and rubbed her belly.  No loyalty after that!

I hope she knows how much she is going to be missed. I hope she knows how much she is loved.

 Thank you God for giving us the best Sissy Girl.

The Life of Sammie

Sammie was born a poor black child....no, she was adopted in 1998 by myself and my practice husband. Actually, Sammie is the ex's dog so I try to blame him for all the shenanigan's that Sammie has done over the years.  It's more my fault then anything but I'll never admit that again.

Sammie was only a couple of months old when we adopted her but she was born with a way to drive myself (and I think the practice husband) crazy.  She whined.  All the time...just because.  I know I was concerned at first but quickly became annoyed (which is not hard to do).  She just wanted constant attention.  Not hurt or needing something, we'd run through the possible needs she might have.  We'd fret around the house, asking her if this was it or maybe that....sometimes it would be food or water.  Needed to go outside.  But most likely it was 1) rub my belly, 2) pat my belly, 3) tickle my belly or 4)play with me.  It was ALWAYS a plead for attention.  So her whining became a source of frustration for us.

Sammie became Sissy because I just loved that name.  I know it caused countless hours of frustration and general pissed off feelings for the practice husband.  He named her Sammie and that is her name.  So I will admit that I did call her Sissy at the beginning as a rouse to torture him but then it became her name; in my head.  I call her Sis, Sissy Girl, Sammie Leah and Samantha Leah when she's in trouble.  That last one irritates me because my Mom called her that and I repeatedly told her that Sammie's name was NEVER Samantha.  Stop calling her that...only to find myself calling her Samantha Leah when she's in trouble.  

Fast forward and you get a 12 year old Sissy Girl who still whines (non-stop) but is a much more calm girl.

Sammie has always been a belly slut.  She will flip onto her back in an instant and offer her belly up to you for her amusement.  She actually purrs.  She will sleep with a constant snore and when you rub her down, she'll purr like a cat. Also like a cat, she will follow the sunbeam across the floor when it's sunny out.  She'll sit outside for an hour; even when it's 102 degrees.  Come in panting and when she cools down from that, she'll go right back outside.



This is my favorite of my Sissy Girl and is what I have up in my office and home

Sammie is going well.  She has a few more bumps on her and I'm trying to ignore them because, at $80 a pop to biopsy them, I am stuck with the hope that she is just getting more fatty pockets.  Nothing has changed with her personality or habits.  So I choose to believe she is fine.  I have added a new routine and she is loving it.  Every day she gets either 10 minutes of scratch, pat and cuddle or a good brushing.  Most of the time she will purr her way through a rubdown.  I think the standing and getting brushed hurts her hips.  But after every brush, she runs laps up and down the hallway.

And Milo gets a brushing too.  He loves it.

Next post will be about Milo.  Thank you for indulging me in my need to document the two "children" I have.  They are truly special to me.

The results

I should have posted this sooner but results back from Sammie are that both were NOT cancer.  One was a fatty pocket and the second they weren't sure what it was but that neither were cancerous.  That's a huge relief.   The vet thought that it wouldn't be necessary to find out what the 2nd lump was but just keep an eye on it.  I'm willing to do that. 

Milo has not had a seizure, in my presence, for the last week.  And believe me...he has been under constant supervision. Every sneeze or pant will make my head swivel and I lock on him like a Star Trek tractor beam.  He goes through this intensive pat down each night.  Just so I can make sure he's still whole.

Sammie is in 7th heaven....I put a timer on and she gets 10 minutes of brushing, massaging and just general feeling up.  I know they say that dogs can't purr but Sammie does.  When I walk in the door each day, she crows like a rooster.  She will pop off little syllables of welcome...home...missed you...lets go for a walk.  The purring is like an even snore...in...out...in...out. She will actually fall asleep and continue to snore in and out...It is so cool to hear her purring while I'm rubbing all over her.  I am making a conscious effort to touch her on a regular basis.  The only crappy thing is the hair...It's disturbing how much hair comes off her...year round.  I should have put a schedule together for brushing her because I probably would have kept the amount at bay.  She loses the equivalent of a small dog when I brush her.



Doesn't she have pretty fur...great colors





Sammie's 217th "child"

 I have a motto about my dogs and my home.  If it doesn't have hair in or on it, it's not mine. When I refurbish things, I try to tell people that the bits of hair in it are my signature.  I honestly wouldn't know what to do when my house becomes dog and dog hair free.  I think I would like it for a few months but then I would want to have some little fur baby to wrap myself around.  I know it sounds morbid, thinking about the next dog but I think it's healthy to think about it.  Namely because I'm going to lose them.  And probably sooner rather then later.  It's going to hurt like hell to lose Sissy Girl and Milo.  I'm going to mourn them a lot.  But I know I will always want a dog...it just may take me a bit to get one.

I got this from someone and it was just divine intervention to get this.  I could talk about some of these points but I think they speak for themselves.

A PET'S TEN COMMANDMENTS.........

1. My life is likely to last 10-15 years. Any separation from you is likely to be painful.
2.  Give me time to understand what you want of me
3.  Place your trust in me. It is crucial for my well-being.
4.  Don't be angry with me for long and don't lock me up as punishment. You have your work, your friends, your entertainment, but I have only you.
5.  Talk to me. Even if I don't understand your words, I do understand your voice when speaking to me.
6.  Be aware that however you treat me, I will never forget it.
7.  Before you hit me, before you strike me, remember that I could hurt you, and yet, I choose not to bite you.
8.  Before you scold me for being lazy or uncooperative, ask yourself if something might be bothering me. Perhaps I'm not getting the right food, I have been in the sun too long, or my heart might be getting old or weak.
9.  Please take care of me when I grow old. You too, will grow old.
10.  On the ultimate difficult journey, go with me please. Never say you can't bear to watch. Don't make me face this alone. Everything is easier for me if you are there, because I love you so.

That last one is God's voice to my heart.  I don't know that I can be there for either of them but now I know I have to be there for them.  This isn't for me, it's for them.  I really would like to believe that it's never going to happen but it's amazing how quickly things seem to be happening. 

Sammie can't squat properly anymore.  And that's been happening for a few weeks before the vet.  But now she's starting to lose traction when she tries to jump up on the bed.  I'm taking action and having my Dad put together a spec for stairs that I can put next to the bed and she walk up.  Now, I know for a fact that they will never use these stairs.  If I pay money for them, they will not use.  But Milo is starting to miss the bed too.  I figure I can take some of the discomfort away if I try to do that.

Milo is walking into walls.  He did that a few times off and on but yesterday we were going to go out of the bedroom and I went to open the door and Milo was nose deep in the other side of the door, in the corner.  I had to drag him backwards and then push him through the right side of the door.  He fought me a little bit.  I hope that makes sense.  You would think he would remember where stuff is but maybe these seizures are messing with his brain.  He's kind of gone Air Head....he's resorting back to puppy like behavior sometimes.

I have bought them treats and  absolutely HATE that they have taken up begging so easily but I have to realize that they never got treats and now they are snarfing down a huge amount of bi-products.  The one I'm giving them now is absolutely hideous smelling.  I have to wash my hands afterwards but they seem to love them.  Beggin' Strips seem to be their favorite but God does it stink. The manufacturer must know because it comes in a Ziploc bag.  Saves me from gagging every time I walk in the kitchen. Makes you wonder what the hell they put in it.

And through all this, I haven't once thought about my health issues and I couldn't be happier.  I'll try really hard to not forget it completely but it's nice to have something/someone else to focus on and take away the really easy to get there self pity.  There is a lot of nasty things I could say....in the ceaseless pursuit to say the funniest thing I can to make you laugh.  But suffice to say, I'm just fine, wallowing in my denial.

My Kids

So I talked about my inability to have children and how I don’t cope well with other people’s kids but I didn’t actually discuss my real kids. I have 2.

Milo is about 15 years old and I have had him about 13 of those 15. He is the absolute love of my life. I went to PetsMart in 1997 with my sister-in-law to get something for their dog and the Wayside Waifs was having an adoption fair that day. Now, I had no animals or a desire to have one. I lived in Missouri and with a girl that I barely knew. And we had a no pet policy. So I was just going to love on some dogs and go home. And I really did not have any intention of getting a dog. But I was sitting in the middle of this group of dogs that were all trying to get some attention. I loved on as many of them as I could. Then this little stick of a dog pushed his way between a couple of the dogs and put his head in my lap and then kind of curled up in my lap. It was true love. Absolutely true love. I immediately started the adoption process and he came home with me that day. He was about a year or 2 old. He was rail thin and very light brown. I honestly had never loved anything like the way I love my Milo. He went through a rough patch with me. He was the rock I needed to get through that dark time in my life. I was saved by that dog so many times that there is little chance I will ever be able to express to him how much I absolutely adore him.



And now he’s getting old. 15 years old is pretty good for a dog. He’s never acted his age. He loves to play with Sammie and he is just so excited to see me that I get so much joy from him. But he’s pretty much deaf. I think he’s starting to lose his sight. Our walks need to be during daylight now because he gets hesitant when we’re in the dark. He’s walked into a couple of walls in the apartment when the lights are off. The deaf thing is kind of funny but not really. I have had to literally pick him up while he was sleeping because I could not get him to wake up by calling his name. It’s pretty funny to hear him snoring away and I’m poking him and saying his name, over and over again. He is then surprised and takes a bit to get orientated.

Then there is my Sissy girl. Her name is Sammie but I have always called her Sissy. She is 12 years old and is a handful. My ex and I adopted her when she was around 3 months old and have kind of wondered how we got such a weird dog when we pretty much had her from birth. She whines…all the time. I believe she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. It’s not like she’s in pain (at least I don’t think so) or needs to go outside. She whines because she’s bored and wants attention. She’ll be standing in front of the food dish and staring at it and start whining. It’s just like breathing to her I think.

But one great thing about Sissy is that she talks. When I get home and let them out, she will talk to me for the first few minutes of being home. She’ll crow like a rooster. She’ll grumble in her throat. She will practically purr when you pet her. She is so vocal. And she’s taught Milo how to do it too. He’ll try to make noises too. Not as good at it as Sissy but he still tries. And she is a belly slut. She will plop down right in front of you and offer her belly up at the drop of a hat. She loves people and will get in their face. Literally. She has no concept of personal space and will make sure you get a chance to pay attention to her. And she’ll use that against me because I tell her to go sit down when I have company and gets this sad look on her face and the person who is over will say it’s OK, they would love to pet her more. She’s manipulative that way…maybe she learned that from me.

I will always have dogs but I’d really like to always have these dogs. But I’m realistic and know that I’ll lose them eventually. I’m preparing myself for Milo. That one is going to hurt a lot. Not that Sissy won’t but Milo and I have been through so much that I bonded with him more than Sissy. But I am preparing myself. Both of my kids are extremely healthy. Milo had to have some teeth removed once and Sissy had a virus about a year ago but neither have had anything else wrong with them (knock on wood). They get their yearly shots and then that's it. We walk a couple of miles a day to keep them in shape, which is why I think I have dogs that don't act their age.

But I'm probably abusive in some ways. They do not get human food; it is human food, not dog food. They do not bark, jump up on people, get aggressive with other dogs (or each other), they do not get on the furniture and they are responsible for letting me know when they need to go outside. They are not to get in other people's face, although Sammie does not follow that edict. I don't take them for rides in the car regularly. With a new car, I have been reluctant to take them anywhere but I have taken them twice for rides. They very rarely get treats. Not because they don't deserve them but typically dog treats are so full of crap that it messes with their digestive systems. And they get the same food, regardless of what's on sale. I have had to change recently because Pedigree discontinued the food I had been feeding them for the last couple of years. So I have a new food and that has taken them a little time to adjust to. None of this is because they don't deserve to have or do these things but it's because I need to be consistent with what I do with them. Dogs are creatures of habit and I make sure that that habit is appropriate.


But with all that structure and consistent actions, my dogs are spoiled rotten. I absolutely adore my dogs and I cannot imagine my life with any other dogs. There is no way that my dogs are unhappy because they will run laps in the house, throw stuffed animals up into the air and try to catch them and roll around on their back making god awful noises but that is pure joy...how can you be sad when you see your dog rolling around, just because he's happy to be alive.  I want that...I'm sure you've all heard it but I love the saying "greet everyone like the way your dog greets you"...I know I would walk around ecstatic and loving, wanting only to be given a little bit of attention and then sleep for the next 4 hours.

 
 

Family portrait

On the spur of the moment, I took my camera with me for my nightly walk with the dogs.  I always have my camera with me when I've got my purse and I've been doing a lot more picture taking then normal. So I grabbed the camera this evening and thought I'd try to capture a few good shots.

With no real thought, I caught a glimpse of my shadow and that was it...I spent the whole 30 minutes (which normally took 15 - 20) trying for that perfect shot of the three of us. I got a good one of just Sammie:

I finally got a "good" one of the three of us.  I'd like it to be a bit better but I thought, for spur of the moment, it wasn't half bad.

I wish I wasn't so lumpy....

She's Sneaky...

My dog Sammie loves to sleep upstairs on my bed when I am not home.  Typically I put them in the spare room and when I get home, I let them out.  During the night, they do get to sleep with me.  But I have lately been leaving them out during the day.  I come home from work and they are not at the door to greet me, the little bastards.  They are typically upstairs on my bed.

I make my bed every morning but not right away.  When I get up in the morning and take my shower I inevitably come back to this.  I have to shoo her off so I can get the bed made.  And she grunts and groans when I try to push her over to the end of the bed so I can make it.  I know she's getting old and crotchety but seriously....it's my spot.

She puts out an ENORMOUS amount of fur.  I mean it gets so bad on my carpets that you'll walk through the apartment and get fur caught in between your toes...that just makes me gag thinking about it....But part of that is my fault. I don't brush her as often as I should and I've thought about shaving her.  But dogs sometimes grow their hair back differently once shaved and she's a pretty dog.  So I just brush and hope she'll stop shedding at some point.  They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results....for 12 years I've been doing the same thing over and over again and I expect her to suddenly become hairless.  I know what she thinks about it...if she sheds enough, then she gets brushed to calm the invasion and she loves the attention!  You think dogs are pretty smart but I think I have the  smartest dog out there because she knows how to manipulate me.

She's sneaky like that...