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The little man is practically blind and the old lady deaf

oquintela
Community Guru
Olga Q Member Since: Sep 5, 2012
11 of 15

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 Smiley Happy 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 Guru
Anthony H Member Since: Feb 22, 2017
12 of 15

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 Guru
Cheryl K Member Since: Jul 16, 2015
13 of 15

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.

reinierb
Community Guru
Reinier B Member Since: Nov 3, 2015
14 of 15

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".

allpurposewriter
Community Guru
Anthony H Member Since: Feb 22, 2017
15 of 15

...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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