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boshoffirene
Community Member

The little man is practically blind and the old lady deaf

I have quite a few pets. But this is about my oldest doggy, my little boy Killer the Yorkie, and my oldest kitty, the old lady Tigerlilly aka Lilly. 

Lilly is 14 years old, healthy as can be, but practically deaf. Since realising her hearing was going downhill, I've started implementing my own version of sign language when 'talking' to her. It is amazing how well she responds to my signs for 'get your food', 'come here', and 'want to go peepee'? Lilly is also Killer's 'mother', as she took to him the minute she saw him and 'raised' him - he was a rescue puppy from a puppy mill. 

 

 And then Mr. K. le York. My little man. He's 12 and totally blind in the one eye. His other eye, according to the vet, discerns between dark and light. He does not operate very well in the dark, so, before going to bed at night, I make sure to have the lights on all the way to the door before telling him to go do his business outside before we go to bed. It's amazing how he will trot towards where it is dark and stop and wait for me to put on the next light. It is equally amazing how he responds to my voice. Just to let you know, he understands EVERYTHING I say. I don't give orders, I talk to him. For example, "Killer, mommy wants to go to the kitchen" (he will be sitting on my lap). He will get off my lap and go lay in my spot waiting till I return. Then I'll say "Killer, mommy wants to sit down". He will then get up, wait for me to be seated, and take up his spot again.

The above may give the impression he doesn't do anything but sit in my lap the whole day - not so! Even with his disability, he is still the alpha male to two German shepherds (each 8 years old now) and two Bassets - one  9 and the other 2. AND he is still the first to raise hell when some or other unknown person comes knocking at the gate. THere is nothing wrong with his hearing. 

 But here is the thing. Our pets are no longer young. Zoe, the one Basset, had a difficult life before we got her at the ripe old age of 7, and along with the German shepherds, is showing her age, while Killer and Lilly - well - they are spry, but.......you know...

Years ago (before the German shepherds came into my life) I had three Rhodesian RIdgebacks. Man were they wonderful dogs! The best! But they were each 6 months apart in age. In other words, the oldest was a year older than the youngest, with one smack back inbetween. And you know what...they each died six months of each other. They were 11 when they died - a very good age for this breed. 

 

So now I sit with a situation in which I know my children may leave me one at a time, and pretty soon at that. Please note they all get plenty of love and attention. But out of all of them, Killer is my favorite. He is my constant companion and shadow. He never leaves me for a minute - unless it is to bare his teeth at some poor person trying to get my attention at the gate, or someone helping out with something or other on the property (he bites strangers)...at which point I have to lock him inside. 

 

If something had to happen to one of my children I would be devastated, as I always am. If something had to happen to Killer...I don't know how my family would be able to handle me. I just don't see myself without my little shadow. 

 

But then...I've been in this situation before. It is the price you pay for having fur babies.

 

ACCEPTED SOLUTION

A Dog's Perspective ....

 

Dogs (and cats) Never Die. They are Sleeping in Your Heart. 

 
"Some of you, particularly those who think they have recently lost a dog to ‘death’, don’t really understand this. I’ve had no desire to explain, but won’t be around forever and must.

 

Dogs never die. They don’t know how to. They get tired, and very old, and their bones hurt. Of course they don’t die. If they did they would not want to always go for a walk, even long after their old bones say: ‘No, no, not a good idea. Let’s not go for a walk.’ Nope, dogs always want to go for a walk. They might get one step before their aging tendons collapse them into a heap on the floor, but that’s what dogs are. They walk.

 

It’s not that they dislike your company. On the contrary, a walk with you is all there is. Their boss, and the cacaphonic symphony of odor that the world is. Cat poop, another dog’s mark, a rotting chicken bone (exultation), and you. That’s what makes their world perfect, and in a perfect world death has no place.

 

However, dogs get very very sleepy. That’s the thing, you see. They don’t teach you that at the fancy university where they explain about quarks, gluons, and Keynesian economics. They know so much they forget that dogs never die. It’s a shame, really. Dogs have so much to offer and people just talk a lot.

 

When you think your dog has died, it has just fallen asleep in your heart. And by the way, it is wagging its tail madly, you see, and that’s why your chest hurts so much and you cry all the time. Who would not cry with a happy dog wagging its tail in their chest. Ouch! Wap wap wap wap wap, that hurts. But they only wag when they wake up. That’s when they say: ‘Thanks Boss! Thanks for a warm place to sleep and always next to your heart, the best place.’

 

When they first fall asleep, they wake up all the time, and that’s why, of course, you cry all the time. Wap, wap, wap. After a while they sleep more. (remember, a dog while is not a human while. You take your dog for walk, it’s a day full of adventure in an hour. Then you come home and it’s a week, well one of your days, but a week, really, before the dog gets another walk. No WONDER they love walks.)

 

Anyway, like I was saying, they fall asleep in your heart, and when they wake up, they wag their tail. After a few dog years, they sleep for longer naps, and you would too. They were a GOOD DOG all their life, and you both know it. It gets tiring being a good dog all the time, particularly when you get old and your bones hurt and you fall on your face and don’t want to go outside to pee when it is raining but do anyway, because you are a good dog. So understand, after they have been sleeping in your heart, they will sleep longer and longer.

 

But don’t get fooled. They are not ‘dead.’ There’s no such thing, really. They are sleeping in your heart, and they will wake up, usually when you’re not expecting it. It’s just who they are.

 

I feel sorry for people who don’t have dogs sleeping in their heart. You’ve missed so much. Excuse me, I have to go cry now.”

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14 REPLIES 14
mwiggenhorn
Community Member

I am so touched by your post.  I am also blown away by all the animals in your family! 

 

I am in a townhouse with no fenced yard, so I only have dog.  His name is Jack Daniel and he is a rescue that we got when he was about 2.  He's a Jack Russell and maybe Whippet/ Italian Greyhound.  He looks a lot like the dog in the old RCA ads ("His Master's Voice).

 

Sadly, he's over 14 years old now.  His hearing is going, he has small cataracts but his sense of smell is still going strong!  If I start to make a sandwich, no matter where he is in the apartment, he shows up. He's having trouble going up and down stairs but still does it many times a day.  He seems happy and pain-free but he is slowing slipping away from us.  I've had dogs my whole life but this one is very special to us.  Since I was away for 10 weeks, helping out family members, he follows me everywhere since my return.  (Mary had a little dog, his ears were white as snow, and everywhere that Mary went, Jack was sure to go).

 

It's very hard when they are so aged.  They depend on us to do the right thing at the end but it's so hard to face.

A Dog's Perspective ....

 

Dogs (and cats) Never Die. They are Sleeping in Your Heart. 

 
"Some of you, particularly those who think they have recently lost a dog to ‘death’, don’t really understand this. I’ve had no desire to explain, but won’t be around forever and must.

 

Dogs never die. They don’t know how to. They get tired, and very old, and their bones hurt. Of course they don’t die. If they did they would not want to always go for a walk, even long after their old bones say: ‘No, no, not a good idea. Let’s not go for a walk.’ Nope, dogs always want to go for a walk. They might get one step before their aging tendons collapse them into a heap on the floor, but that’s what dogs are. They walk.

 

It’s not that they dislike your company. On the contrary, a walk with you is all there is. Their boss, and the cacaphonic symphony of odor that the world is. Cat poop, another dog’s mark, a rotting chicken bone (exultation), and you. That’s what makes their world perfect, and in a perfect world death has no place.

 

However, dogs get very very sleepy. That’s the thing, you see. They don’t teach you that at the fancy university where they explain about quarks, gluons, and Keynesian economics. They know so much they forget that dogs never die. It’s a shame, really. Dogs have so much to offer and people just talk a lot.

 

When you think your dog has died, it has just fallen asleep in your heart. And by the way, it is wagging its tail madly, you see, and that’s why your chest hurts so much and you cry all the time. Who would not cry with a happy dog wagging its tail in their chest. Ouch! Wap wap wap wap wap, that hurts. But they only wag when they wake up. That’s when they say: ‘Thanks Boss! Thanks for a warm place to sleep and always next to your heart, the best place.’

 

When they first fall asleep, they wake up all the time, and that’s why, of course, you cry all the time. Wap, wap, wap. After a while they sleep more. (remember, a dog while is not a human while. You take your dog for walk, it’s a day full of adventure in an hour. Then you come home and it’s a week, well one of your days, but a week, really, before the dog gets another walk. No WONDER they love walks.)

 

Anyway, like I was saying, they fall asleep in your heart, and when they wake up, they wag their tail. After a few dog years, they sleep for longer naps, and you would too. They were a GOOD DOG all their life, and you both know it. It gets tiring being a good dog all the time, particularly when you get old and your bones hurt and you fall on your face and don’t want to go outside to pee when it is raining but do anyway, because you are a good dog. So understand, after they have been sleeping in your heart, they will sleep longer and longer.

 

But don’t get fooled. They are not ‘dead.’ There’s no such thing, really. They are sleeping in your heart, and they will wake up, usually when you’re not expecting it. It’s just who they are.

 

I feel sorry for people who don’t have dogs sleeping in their heart. You’ve missed so much. Excuse me, I have to go cry now.”

Wendy, you made me cry and I NEVER cry.


Wendy C wrote:..

Dogs (and cats) Never Die. They are Sleeping in Your Heart....... 

 

......I have to go cry now.”


Me too.

 

I must have a very large heart... It's got space for sleeping dogs and cats and horses.

I have cried buckets of tears for my humans - but my animals have had a way of manipulating my heart, which has never quite recovered shape. 

allpurposewriter
Community Member

Irene, do you know the quote, "Proof that God does not exist is the lifespan of a dog."

 

My own personal take on your story: It all sounds very crackers! But SOO much love. You go, girl! (Speaking of crackers, I'm going to read your story to Bailey, who is my empty nest mongrel -- I call her Scooby Nuisance -- so what does that say about me?)

 

There was a man at the local dog park in Ithaca whose thing was to adopt geriatric dogs. He always had three or four (usually big) dogs, all of them in their eighties and nineties, so to speak. Boy, he was a local saint. He just loved his dogs and he only took them in when they were blind, lame, stiff, deaf, kidney disease, hip problems -- just a saint. I haven't seen him in a long while, though.

Everyone seems to think they are god's gift to dogs -- but I give that trophy to you and the local saint who loves his geriatric doggers.

etrusca
Community Member

Yes Irene, you'll suffer when they will go away, but think how much happiness you have given them. A full life with a loving "mommy", and that should be a motive for crying with tendress in your heart and not with (only) sorrow.
A big hug to you and your pets.

Wendy, Mary, Anthony...everyone, you got me in tears. Yes, a dog never dies...he goes to sleep - in your heart. 

My mother used to say that, for a dog, we are their God.  We must make benevolent and difficult decisions regarding their quality of life.

Yes, it's very sad when one of our four-legged friends dies. My previous dogs never got to be old dogs, they died while young and I think that's even worse because you feel like something has been interrupted. My 15-year old Lab doesn't hear very well, her eyes are still in good shape. In some aspects, she's still acting as when she was younger: she can't miss her morning walk, still plays with me after eating, and, as with all Labs, her appetite is still unmatched 🙂 One thing that gives me hope that I'll be able to more easily deal with her departure someday is to think that somehow she used life as much as we do with our favourite clothes: when you can no longer wear them and just accept its end.

allpurposewriter
Community Member

By the by, Irene, I grew up with a Basset hound named "Sweetie." I now call everyone "Sweetie," including my ex-wife, my kids, my current scruffy friends. It got to be such a habit when I had a job that I went into work one day and called the secretary "Sweetie." Then a cute teller at the bank. Then a guy who was pumping gas at the Sunoco. I'm no Harvey Weinstein -- honest. But this was getting a little embarrassing. 

 

I love names that three-year-olds give to their pets. They are always spot-on literal names. My kids named one of their hamsters, "Speedy." We had a ferret named "Sniffer." This is  where you get names like "Spot" and "Scruffy." I love that.

Anyway, when we were kids, my sister was given a long-haired gray cat -- a Persian -- named, you guessed it, "Dusty."  Dusty lived until she was 20 and my mother used to tell us to stand up when she came into the room, so we all did that. You should see the look on a 100-year-old Persian cat's face when five or six people stand up because she's crossed the threshold into the living room. She looks at you like you've gone radioactive, but like she's bored by your stupidity at the same time.

 

Anyway, this is about Sweetie. When Dusty first arrived, Sweetie came into milk just so she could nurse Dusty, who had no qualms suckling a Bassett hound. My father took photos and sent them into Life magazine, which in those days put a funny/cute photo on the inside of their back cover. They didn't print it, though.

 

Then the elementary school did "Rip Van Winkle" for their spring play -- to be performed on an outdoor stage, where the upper lawn was the same height as a short stone wall. Anyway, Sweetie got the role as Rip Van Winkle's dog, but she was so dense that she lost the part. (Apparently, she couldn't remember her lines.) Anyway, my sister was in the play, so, of course, my mother went to see it. In the program, they listed Ruff played by a dog named Molly (or something) and under that it said "Understudy ... Sweetie." Now how adorable is that?

 

 

 

allergywriter
Community Member

I have one remaining cat after saying good-by to Faith 2 years ago.

Rory is 19. She is in good physical condition.

Unfortunately she has feline dementia. Did you know that happens to elderly cats?

It breaks my heart.

She no longer meows. She has forgotten how to play, how to scratch her claws and bathe after each meal. Sometimes she can't remember if she has eaten or not.

She has forgotten that she isn't a lap cat and will now sit on my lap for as long as I am sitting. But I have to pick her up. She's forgotten how to climb and jump up.

At Christmas my daughter (this cat's original owner) brought her Great Pyrennes dog with her on her visit. Rory has forgotten that she hates dogs and is frightened of large dogs.

She has forgotten that she hates my son and my grandaughter and now comes up to them to be petted.

She still uses her litter box without fail. She is in no pain and has clear vision and hearing.

I look in her eyes and they are blank, but then they smile at me. I don't know if she remembers me. She follows me.

My husband and I have discussed euthenasia. I don't want someone to kill me just because I have dementia - I can't do it to her. I think when the time comes, I will know. I pray that I will know. I've known with other pets.


Cheryl K wrote:

I have one remaining cat after saying good-by to Faith 2 years ago.

Rory is 19. She is in good physical condition.

Unfortunately she has feline dementia. Did you know that happens to elderly cats?

It breaks my heart.

She no longer meows. She has forgotten how to play, how to scratch her claws and bathe after each meal. Sometimes she can't remember if she has eaten or not.

She has forgotten that she isn't a lap cat and will now sit on my lap for as long as I am sitting. But I have to pick her up. She's forgotten how to climb and jump up.

At Christmas my daughter (this cat's original owner) brought her Great Pyrennes dog with her on her visit. Rory has forgotten that she hates dogs and is frightened of large dogs.

She has forgotten that she hates my son and my grandaughter and now comes up to them to be petted.

She still uses her litter box without fail. She is in no pain and has clear vision and hearing.

I look in her eyes and they are blank, but then they smile at me. I don't know if she remembers me. She follows me.

My husband and I have discussed euthenasia. I don't want someone to kill me just because I have dementia - I can't do it to her. I think when the time comes, I will know. I pray that I will know. I've known with other pets.


...and they know that you know it's time. They also forgive you- my Samatha opened her eyes as the needle went in and her eyes told me "I forgive you; I know it's hard for you, too".

...and they know that you know it's time. They also forgive you- my Samatha opened her eyes as the needle went in and her eyes told me "I forgive you; I know it's hard for you, too".

 

 

This reminds me, Reinier, of one of the funniest stories of all time, but it has to be told right. It requires, mostly, the right attitude. Let's see if I can do this.

I mentioned above that my son had  a ferret named "Sniffer." Sniffer was a feisty, fun-loving, slightly musky creature -- called a "cinnamon" ferret due to its coloring -- and my son loved him a lot. Every day B -- (my son) would come home from school and take Sniffer out for an hour of playtime, which is half the day for a ferret, because, feisty as he was, ferrets sleep about 22 hours a day. That's something I'm getting used to myself, but that's another story. Anyway, he loved taking Sniffer on walks and had little harnesses to allow him to do that. Sniffer landed on his feet in life. He had a loving owner.

 

Ferrets live about eight years or so, give or take, and Sniffer lasted just that long.  One day, my son says, Sniffer didn't eat his dinner and the next day he brings Sniffer to me and points out a serious lump in his stomach. The next day is a school day, so I promise B -- I will call him when I get to the vet and won't make any decisions without him. (My son, who is in middle school at this time, is pretty strong about this stuff, but I'm trying to be a caring dad.)

 

The next day, the vet says Sniffer has cancer and it's check-out time. Of course, I call B -- and explain the situation. I give B -- some options, but he says go ahead and do what must be done and the vet, who's obviously a kind soul, sees my concern and hears our decision and takes Sniffer away ...

 

Then she comes back and she looks at me. She wants to explain how my son and I did the right thing even though it's a tough decision to make, so she says, "You did the right thing. It was his time to go. The timing was right. Actually, he died just before I put the needle in ... so, rest assured you did the right thing."

Then she hands me a bill -- I think it was $200 or something like that. 

Yes, I'm a nice guy, too, so I paid the bill ... the only sap in history who ever paid $200 to euthanize a dead ferret. 

Everyone in my family laughed and laughed at this ... but we didn't tell B -- for about a week or two. Then we told him. He laughed, too.

 

 

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