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Ah, memories. Those things that keep you going. Corie, the wolfhound, was another emotional dependent. He shared the king sized bed with husband and I and we all barely fit. The danger was that he never looked where he was collapsing. It was your responsibility to get out from under.

He had generalized Demodectic mange and we had to scrub him down with a tuffy every day, then take him to bed wrapped in a towel and blanket until he stopped shivering. The dining room wall paper was covered with the tiny brown spots from the blood dripping off his ever-wagging tail. After going thru several local vets, we finally went to the vet college, where we were told they’d been waiting for us since every pup in the litter had been there. FINALLY, he was cured.

But a month later he got his paw caught on some wire, which left his skin sagging around his ankle, and we rushed him to an emergency vet. Wolfhounds are different than other dogs because they have a different fat/muscle ratio. This young vet didn’t understand that and was obviously shocked at his size when we brought him in. Corie’s back was at the height of a doorknob and he stood much taller than me. He gave him a massive dose of tranquilizer that killed him. He didn’t realize that he could have stitched that dog up with no drug, he was so pain-insensitive and gentle.

It’s been 40 years and I’ve really never recovered. It hurt when we changed the wallpaper and lost the last trace of that wonderful dog.

But the memories! How he’d wait in the passenger seat until I was going 60 mph to stretch out in my lap and knock the car out of gear. The weight of his head, larger than mine, on my shoulder when I’d get him to stay in the backseat. His desperate need to do his business in snow and the frantic search for the last bits of snow as spring approached.

We currently serve a Havanese and a Bichon.
Rory’s World - Joseph Blanchard - Catnip Caper
https://youtu.be/7XHQVw-hWx8