Posted on 11/24/2016 9:21:50 AM PST by Kaslin
Last Thanksgiving our family had two dogs and two cats. It's looking like not long after this holiday, we'll be down to two.
Teddy, a traffic-stoppingly gorgeous Keeshond, died in May. We name our dogs after presidents. Gipper was the first. A putative golden retriever, Gipper was so aggressive and stubborn -- not traits usually associated with the breed -- that we took him to a trainer for temperament testing (the kids were young then). They did their assessments and reported back. "Your dog is not vicious, he's just a little s---."
Not Teddy. Unfailingly sweet and biddable (he never put his teeth on another creature -- not even when he was bitten on the snout by a friend's 10-week-old puppy), we almost doubted his full canine credentials. No pack instincts? No resource guarding? No. The only time I ever heard him growl was when he was old and ailing from Cushing's disease. He was sustained every day by the confidence that someone might drop some chicken scraps or a stray meatball in his food dish. And it was perfectly fine if you didn't. He would still dance in circles when you gestured at the leash. That was Teddy.
Now Gilbert, one of the cats (his brother is Sullivan), has a mass on his jaw. We had the X-rays and biopsy on Monday and will get the results next week. I always feel a bit sheepish when I tell people about the various specialists we've consulted for our pets. "Took the cat for an MRI yesterday" sounds slightly absurd, even if you love animals.
Americans spent $15.4 billion on veterinary care in 2015 (only half of it by us). The average American spends more on pets annually than on alcohol, landline phones, or men's and boys' clothing. We spend more on veterinary care for our dogs than the average person spends for his own medical care in the Dominican Republic, Egypt, India and many other countries. Even knowing that we're a devoted nation of pet lovers, it's still surreal to visit the specialists' office and see the range of possibilities on the office wall -- cardiology, gastroenterology, ophthalmology, etc, etc. We'll need the oncologist soon.
Vets always speak of the "patient," rarely the dog or cat. When Gipper needed an ACL repair (oh, yeah, ka-ching), the doctor called to give me a progress report. The "patient" was in recovery and doing well. Then the orthopedist paused, coughed, and apologized, explaining, "I had a frog in my throat." Something made me say, "Not a patient, I hope."
The world is, apparently, divided between dog and cat people. I love both. Dogs are uncanny in their understanding of us and their delight in our company. But cats are just as devoted. They may not weep with joy when we return from a one-day absence, as our current golden, Cali (that's Coolidge), unfailingly does, but they curl up in your lap and purr like a living muff. Our cats adore people -- well, me -- and if they could they would spend roughly 23 and a half hours of every 24 right next to me.
Last week, I saw that the tip of Gilbert's tongue was sticking out of his mouth. At first, I thought it was just funny, and waited for him to notice and fix it. It's not normal for cats' tongues to extend out of their mouths when they're not eating, drinking or grooming. A few days later, he did it again. And then it seemed to be out all the time. Off to the vet, who found that he had a large mass on his jaw. His gums were bright red. She referred us to the oral surgeon, and now we await the biopsy results.
The oral surgeon didn't sugarcoat it. Some cancers are more aggressive than others, but even if a tumor is benign, it can do a lot of damage if it's in the wrong place (like the brain). The jaw is one of those places. The tumor is the size of an almond.
It's Thanksgiving. I'm so grateful that my human family members are healthy and thriving. I have friends who are struggling with illness, and it seems almost unseemly to be so sad about a cat. But feelings aren't logical. Gilbert was one of a pair of stray kittens we never meant to keep. Now, I only wish we could.
I have a young small-medium sized little Heinz 57 who adopted me/us about a year ago. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, rarely ever leaves the yard, but always comes right back. Glad we got him.
Dog person here. My 14-year old Jack Russell had knee surgery in March for a torn ACL. He recovered fine from that (eventually) but shortly after surgery his other rear leg started getting weak. Doctors here didn’t know what was going on so I took him to a specialist from the Veterinary college at UT in Knoxville. Diagnosis is autoimmune disease of the nervous system triggered by the knee surgery causing muscle wasting. The major muscle in that leg has atrophied but the muscles around it are good.
We do exercises as much as he is willing and are trying to get his weight down but the Prednisone isn’t helping with the weight even though it does help him walk. :-( He has always been so healthy and active but now all he wants to do most days is sleep.
After the surgery he became very clingy to me so all I have done since then is stay here with him to keep him from getting upset from the separation anxiety. What we won’t do for our dogs!
My heart is breaking for him but he has lived a fairly long life and he has been loved!
Love both. I have a Siamese cat and a black short-hair Persian and a rare Carolina Dog.
People think of their four-legged friends as family. They bring so much joy and companionship to our lives.
We should thankful to have them with us all the years God has graced them to be with us.
On Election Day, I lost Tasha, my little calico cat. She died of renal failure at the age of 18 years and four months. Her health was excellent until about a week and a half before she died.
Tasha was a very lucky cat, surrounded during her entire life by people who loved and cared for her.
My only buddy from sun up to sun down for five years home recovering for TBI was the kitten they got while I was in ICU.
He’s 8. I won’t be a snowflake but I’ll be hurting something fierce when that day comes.
You’d be surprised how quickly the visits stop because life goes on.
Not my buddy. He sat one me every day :)
Spaghetti, my little buddy.
Yeah, I’m a WOP, what did you expect? :)
We hope for the best in your cat’s biopsy results. We lost our 16 YO cat three months ago. No doubt they are part of our lives and her loss is still felt daily.
I have two Golden Retrievers.
Sweetest dogs one could imagine.
My beloved cat is sixteen years old. He has been losing weight and not looking good, and the vet checked him out and said he was just getting old. I’m thankful for everyday he is still with me. He has been the best furry friend ever.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Sorry for your loss. Our Black and Tan Cocker, Bailey passed in August. It’s always hard lose a fur friend. They are with us for such a short time.
The apples aren’t as big this year.
We have an apple tree in our backyard. I don’t know what kind of apple tree it is. I call it a Red Obnoxious when I mow the back yard and one of the branches pokes me in the face.
I should just cut it down. I have a chainsaw. I hate picking up apples off the lawn. But, the squirrels seem to like them. We had one lonely apple hanging from the end of a lonely branch. One of the squirrels decided he wanted that last apple. He skittered across a higher branch out as far as he could go and gathered himself up and leaped out to grab that last apple.
He got it! And it broke off the branch and there he was on top of it like Slim Pickens riding that bomb down in the movie Dr. Strangelove.
It wasn’t a very big apple. With nothing better to do than watching squirrels re-enact old movies, I pondered on why the apples were smaller this year.
I realized that it is because the Oldest Brother Dog is gone. He was one of those breeds that love water and were bred to fetch ducks.
His favorite thing was to play with the hose in the back yard. I would turn it on and he would grab the end and parade around like he’d just won Best In Show. He’d drop it, and then dig up the grass where the water was splashing.
My neighbor Dave explained this behavior to me. Dave is an expert in everything. He’s an expert on dogs because he had one once.
“That there is your dog displaying his “Digging Up Insticts”. He does that cause dogs dig things up.”
I was a little skeptical because I didn’t think that ancient dogs used pressurized water to dig up mastodon bones, but who am I to argue with an expert?
It kept me from having to thatch the back lawn and kept the grass green, so I just let him play. The dog, not my neighbor Dave. Dave plays with pickups.
The Oldest Brother Dog got sick a little over a year ago and he’s gone. He didn’t get to play and irrigate the apple tree this past summer. The other three dogs did their best to fertilize the apple tree which is another reason I don’t like picking up apples off the ground. So our apples were smaller this year.
I am not an expert on heaven. I have “died” twice, and the only thing I remember from those experiences is, well, nothing. I have also been called a fool more than any other FReeper.
But I like to think that the Oldest Brother Dog is in heaven with my Dad playing fetch and dragging around a water hose. The dog, not my Dad. My Dad played with motorcycles.
I think this is worthy of a ping to your lists...
Thankful for Jasper,Chris,Ello,Boo-Boo,Cookie,Jewell,Julie,and an outside girl cat by the name of Francis.
Lost Sarah at the age of 18 from kidney failure. She crossed the Rainbow Bridge last month.
Second it.
PING.
PING.
My 8 cats which I am thank-ful.
Cat person all the way! Here’s to thankful memories of Tip-it, Sham, Tiggy and my most beloved kitty Chuckie.
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