Squirty misses her brother!

Two things, one funny and one very moving to me:
1) I AM FAILING at this potty training thing. Doing my best, but sheesh! On the plus side, I am burning a lot of calories going out for long walks and then coming in and watching her pee right when she gets in the door.  I am taking her out at least every half hour unless she’s crated, and I don’t keep her crated for more than an hour or hour and a half at a time, then we go immediately outside & she pees, then we play/eat/ be together (whatever’s on the schedule), then I crate her, then after about an hour or so of rest for Squirt & me, REPEAT. And she still manages to pee inside…  My vet has explained everything to me — Nutmeg is just overstimulated when she’s outside and forgets to pee.  We’ll be fine, but it’s pretty comical when I don’t catch her before she squats…
2) On one of these walks, a dog about Tank’s size came up to us and Squirt went WILD. It was a golden, didn’t look like Tank, but the right size. She couldn’t stop flying around in front of him, and yelping – she was ecstatic! She has NEVER acted like this before, ever. W.O.W. My little girl MISSES HER BROTHER. And I miss him too.  Have any of you had similar experiences with pet sibling grief?  I know dogs recognize one another by smell, but this was truly exceptional behavior on her part.

 

Update

Well, less than one month after sending Tankie to Jesus, I got a puppy.  Her name is Nutmeg, and she is a doll.  Squirt is less bored, and Nutmeg is a joy – in and of herself, and she also brings me closer to my grief for Tank.

The pic of Tankie is a screen shot from 2012 when I was trying to get him to smile for me, and he obliged.  I love this pic best of all of them I have, because I see his love for me in it.  Much love to all of you who still have your three-legged fur babies with you.  I wish them long, long, happy lives.

On a lighter note, I never get to name my dogs!!!  Squirt – name thought up by one of my students – we were watching 2001: A Space Odyssey, and she is named for Heywood Floyd’s daughter (really Stanley Kubrick’s daughter), in Heywood’s most human moment, when he calls her Squirt.  Tank’s name was given to him by his first owner, and he answered to it, + Squirt & Tank was funny, so I kept it.  Nutmeg was named by the new, super-intelligent receptionist at the vet’s office.  She was real quick with that name, and everyone really likes it.  Plus, my first boarder who I love very much, the daughter of a dear friend, her name is Meg.  So it’s a done deal.  Now I’m going to see how you all are doing – I’m on fall break & so can spend some time reading your blogs!

My heartfelt thanks!

I am not leaving this community, even though my boy is gone.  You all have been such a pillar of support to me in this difficult time, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart, for your kind comments to my last post, and for all the help beforehand.  Sometime soon I’ll tell you stories, etc. and I’ll read about your dogs & cats and get to more about all of your journeys.  

Tank is going to Jesus tomorrow

They say that the paralysis is caused, most probably, by the cancer, which has traveled to the spine.  So my sweet boy will meet his maker tomorrow.  I have always told Tank that the only person who loves him more than I do is Jesus, and that when it was time, I’d send him home.  I have taken the day off, everything at school is set, I am driving to Nashville with Squirt, and we’ll sit with him for a real long time, then when they euthanize him  I’ll be there with him (but maybe we can take Squirt out so she doesn’t have to see that) and then we’ll bring her back in to sit with me and the body.  Will they let me stay in there for a couple of hours beforehand and be with him, cuddle him, talk with him?  they say, “as much time as you want,” but do they mean it?  & afterwards?  that’s a question I have for you all.

probably terrible news

Tank fell, probably Wednesday, and he slipped a disc on his spine.  He is now at the Nashville Vet Specialists, has been there since last night – he cannot use his back legs.  SO….., as an older dog, who’s just had surgery, with a Mom who’s running out of money (no, I’m not soliciting, but I will consult here about financing things, I know people have blogged about it), I doubt the Neurologist will recommend him for surgery.  My heart is ripped in two, I was an idiot letting him run, but it looked like that was easier for him than walking.  I only just today got his harness in the mail.  Even without the money barriers, which are huge, I don’t know whether it’s fair to ask this of him, but also, when pain free he’s still my wonderful boy with a love of life and will to live.  I have been getting some judgment from best friends (like family, so they can be dysfunctional with me…) – one said she never thought I should have done the amputation because I’m by myself and couldn’t handle it, another kept trying to be “Realistic.”  Don’t you hate it when other people are good at being realistic about your problems?  To be fair, he is good at knowing his own limitations, but even so… there’s a time to keep quiet.  Squirt and I stayed the night at a hotel in Nashville because we got to the clinic so late (that’s a story…), we  are back in Jackson.  We’ve had a very quiet day here.  I have a ton of work for school that I haven’t touched, well, actually I worked on a power point presentation of my family for my French 1’s, took me quite a bit of time to change it the way I wanted, but no grading has been done yet.  I got an estimate for including an MRI (to diagnose the location of the slipped disc, I think), and you know that estimate doesn’t include the surgery if they do approve him, + all rehabilitation needs.  This is why people just let their pets go.  It’s only the “right thing to do” because it’s too heavy a financial burden.  I’m in that space where you feel angry / ashamed / deeply sad because of what you can’t do.  I’m also {stupid / hopeful / f*** those people who tell me about limitations} enough to go to the bank & ask for $.   Please don’t judge, or rather, judge all you want, just don’t tell me about it here.