Hello…and goodbye

Today is a happy/sad day. Tomorrow will be even more so.

First the happy…mr husband has agreed to accept a foster cat from PFL (Paws for Life). Hooray! Our first true foster! (We did have one a couple of years ago, a kitten rescued from a box in an alley, but this is our first official foster-cat.)

Her name is Uru, and she is lovely. She arrives tomorrow. I have her room almosts ready for her, and hopefully after she receives her vaccines, she can be introduced to Mr Cookie and the Princess Chippy.

Now the bad.  Rowley, our Golden, will likely not be with us much longer. He is 10 years old, and two years ago, almost to the day, he started having trouble with his hind legs. After our recent “vacation” over the Thanksgiving holiday, he was unable to stand on his own, falls often, and walks only with difficulty. He is in some pain, which we are controlling with Rimadyl, but this is only a short term solution. He has several large and small tumors all over his body.

He has always been my best garden assistant!

I’ve read that Golden Retrievers are prone to cancer, and according to some charts, he is actually about 78 years old, which is a lot longer than I expect to live myself! He’s not having much fun these days, eats and drinks very little, and can’t move on his own without help, or really pathetically dragging himself across the floor. He’s still happy, and loves attention, treats and pets.

What he can’t do is stand on his own, walk very well, go for a nature hike, or even a walk, chase a squirrel, lie on the floor without pain, or follow us around like he used to love to do.

I suspect it is nearing the time for him to leave us. Even the cats looks at him a little strangely. I will need to have him evaluated, and then make an unselfish choice. He’s been a great dog for ten years – in fact, he was a rescue to begin with: we took him when he had less than 24 hours left. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving, 2001. Remember that fall? It was still a little strange with the September 11th events fresh in our memory. And this young dog ran in front of mr husband’s car on a dark rainy night. We took him to the shelter, but he ended up being OUR dog. I don’t think that was an accident. He is the best dog ever

I think the best dog ever deserves the best I can give.

It isn’t easy to make that choice.

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About claymire cottage

I'm a museum curator who lives with a wonderful husband, Rowley the golden Retriever, and 2 cats; Mr. Cookie, and Mabel the Magnificent.

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