lessons learned from pets

Honey our lab has had a bad week, the Addison's and thyroid diseases have or I should say the meds to treat her have now shown their side effects. She is enimec and has low red and white blood cells, the team of vets that my wife works with have been doing all kinds of tests trying to find a cause. Her condition it appears is like a human needing a bone marrow transplant. We are feeding her what she wants and giving her meds to keep her comfortable. She has no energy, it tough to see a fairly young dog (8) fade so quickly.
 

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Our little girl had an anal gland infection the other week, she had an anti bite collar and antibiotics. She's ok now, but when your hairy child is in distress, you become aware how tiny and vulnerable she is.
 
We have decided along with the vets that tomorrow is the day, Honey will make her last trip to the vet. I spent several hours this afternoon preparing a burial site. We have lost pets before but man its still tough. The lesson I learned from Honey is to enjoy the time we had with her because unlike us her time here was short.
 
Sorry to hear about your dogs condition the way it is. I know some friend that his dog is 15 and doing well, but others have had conditions that are tough on the great pets. It difficult time I'm sure. Hard to find the right words to say, but know I care!
 
If Honey is frightened of and at the vet's, you might want to consider having the vet come to you. I did this for our last dog, we kept him as happy as we could to the end.
 
**UPDATE** this morning Honey was much more alert, she looked like she had more strength. Our son came over to help my wife get Honey to the vet, to their supprise when he opened the door on my truck she jumped in the back floor. My 2500 HD is pretty tall so it seemed she was stronger. When they got her to the vet she went inside and greeted the doctor and the wife's coworkers like always, she goes to work with my wife quite often. She went to the larger stall where she stays when she's there, after seeing this the doctors said she may be responding to the meds they put her on. So she hopped back in the truck to come back home, we are on a wait and see basis right now.
 
Hope everything turns out well with Honey Greg. It is tough to let go a family member.
 
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Thanks everyone for your thoughts, at this point Honey is much weaker than yesterday so this afternoon we put her down.
 
Since we lost Honey our cat has started hanging around me when I'm outside, she is old and has health problems herself. The cat and Honey were the best of friends, I think muffin is missing Honey as well. Muffin stayed in the shop with me Saturday while I worked on my car, then yesterday afternoon as I stacked firewood.
 
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Cats are odd critters. Mine all love dogs, well except for His Eminent Demonic Smokeyness who hates all mortal flesh... Sorry about Honey, the time is coming for my Rozenthorn, not today, not tomorrow, but it comes. Pugsly Terror is still a young buck yet, I'm looking forward to many years of his antics.
 
You're right, they certainly can be odd. Each cat I've lived with has been very different from the last. The one we have now, Rusty, is an adopted stray; she decided to live here. She kept bum-rushing the door whenever somebody opened it, then would hide under heavy furniture. At first I was apprehensive about taking her in, because I was sure she belonged to somebody here in the trailer park. But one night, she jumped onto the outer-screen of the "computer room" window and yowled and wouldn't get down. We took her in for the night. I later learned that her owners down the road had written her off because they couldn't get her to stay there. We later saw signs of abuse to her; old scars missing teeth (which didn't look like what another cat would do), and being more startled than usual when people move. We learned the oldest child in that family had been rough with pets. That's a different story I think I won't touch on here.

Rusty's a cool little cat though. She doesn't climb on bookcases or shelves and knock things off; exceedingly careful and polite little thing. She doesn't freak out at a mirror and, actually, seems to recognize her own reflection (and sat in front of the living room mirror to groom once). She is not interested in laser dots. If she sees one on the floor, she'll look around to see who's making it and glare at them; she is not fooled. She likes to play with tangible toys, but won't do anything mean like shredding clothes or shoes. She seems to understand what is important. For having spent her earlier months as an escaped stray, she's the most civilized little cat I've ever stayed with. And one of the brightest.
My daughters learned a lesson from this "pet". They were a bit rough with picking her up one day. I yelled at them, and told them to leave her alone and play outside. When Liesl opened the door, Rusty bolted straight out. She didn't wander off, staying close by, in a tree, under a truck, etc. So I explained to them that she left the last people who behaved that way, and could leave us and look elsewhere just as easily. That sank in pretty quick with them, and later Rusty came back to the door in her own time, once she felt sure they'd learned something.
 
My Smokey Joe came to me in a similar fashion. About eight years ago, he was spotted eating out of the burn barrel at Hardscrabble Ranch. In those days, before the family shredded itself, someone was always home. We noticed the furry, scrawny scrap of a cat stealing chicken bones and such, and started putting food out. A week later, he came to the name Smokey(because we found him in the burn barrel, and he's dark grey), and we got him fixed and took him in.

He was cool, for a month or so, then we began to wonder if he was actually a cat. His claws are disproportionately long for his paw size, and never quite retract like most cats. His teeth are also freakishly large, the canines at least, and his jaw opens to a noticeably wider angle than other housecats. He also knows full well how to use the weapons Big Mama gave him, causing us to wonder if nature had anything to do with it. His Eminent Demonic Smokiness has charged packs of wild dogs and coyotes alike, faced down and seriously injured a full grown chow, and killed a quite large great horned owl, which made the mistake of swooping in on ol Smokey while he hunted mice with the motion light. The whole family saw it happen from the front porch. The owl swooped in and caught hold of nothing but fur, Big Smoke twisted around and morphed into a buzzsaw running in reverse. The two came back to earth caterwallin like all the demons in ****, feathers and fur flying everywhere. Most cats would take off like a shot at the first chance, but Smokey hung to that bird like a pit bull, all four paws going for broke. Mom said later she thought he wouldn't stop till he hit the dirt and caught traction.

Smokey Joe had eight little superficial scratches on his back, from where the talons just missed him and caught fur, and a little bitty cartoon tough guy wedge out of his ear. He's no cat, he's a demon Lord trapped in feline form after battle with some forgotten god, as punishment. Living with him can be quite a challenge at times, like when he wants to sit in your lap, but not otherwise be touched...

He's the boss, no other human being would put up with the amount of abuse that cat dishes out, I've just been beaten.
 
I wonder if somebody somewhere didn't import one of the Old World wildcat subspecies into America, that animal sounds somewhat different genetically to the ordinary housecat.
 
My mom's hulking-huge Maine Coon cat, Rascal, can be like that too. She said he came by his name honestly. I think she was being polite, myself.
 
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