I'll update this later but long story short, we had to put one of our dogs down. This sucks. I'd appreciate any late-night/early-morning prayers for Mrs. Tigre and myself as well any and all good vibes in memoriam of "Mo'."
Moseley (Mo) was a cavalier king charles spaniel, 12-13 years old. She was originally my sister-in-law's dog, and came to live with us about 4 years ago. She was the sweetest dog I've had, unbelievably loyal, and also incredibly odd.
My SIL & BIL aren't really "dog people." Mo didnt get a lot of attention from them, and got even less after their son was born about 6 years ago. It seemed like she didn't even know her own name when we first got her. While trying to teach it to her, it was immediately obvious how dumb that name was. "Moseley" is annoying to say, and shortening it to something that sounds nearly identical to one of the most common words said to a dog (no,) is sheer lunacy, imo (apologies to those of you with pets named "Bo.") After a while, she was at least somewhat responsive to the name.
I've always enjoyed playing and "fighting" with dogs. Mo is the first dog I've been around that didn't seem to know how to do this. I literally had to teach her to play like a normal dog. Our other two dogs (Mrs. Tigre's two Pom's that I adopted) love this, but she was totally lost. Mo never really figured out the "play bow" or how to pounce on/at me, but would lay flat with her paws forward and her head on the floor, and scoot forward a few inches in a short burst to try and "get" me. It was strange and hilarious to see. I don't really understand it, because those three dogs lived together for several years when they were younger and - I wouldve thought - played together. But it was one of her many quirks and likely my favorite.
Mo loved to chase rabbits and squirrels, but rarely ever barked at anything, unless it was on tv. She barked at dogs, cows, horses, pigs, all kinds of stuff on tv. The best example was when espn was showing some drug-sniffing-dog competition. Mo despised narcs and I found that, perhaps, to be the most admirable thing about her.
Again, this absolutely sucks. Mrs. Tigre and myself are really struggling with guilt and remorse. We had thought for several months that Mo may have had a minor health issue, but nothing life-threatening. It appears that it was cancer. The first few months weren't all that different. Mo has always been pretty lazy, even by dog standards, and she was usually kinda sluggish. I even started referring to her, lovingly, as "Slowsley."
The last few days was a rapid decline. She went from being a picky eater to having nearly no interest in her food. She used to sleep by my side of the bed every night, so close that I had to watch my step every morning getting out of bed to keep from stepping on her. She wouldn't climb the stairs to come to bed for a couple of nights, and slept right by the water bowl the next (Sunday) night. I called the vet that morning and made an appointment for Tuesday, but it was time. The emergency vet confirmed such Monday evening, her liver was shutting/had shut down and she was ready to go.
Sorry for the dear-facebook level novel, but I really need to vent. I'm alternating between extreme self-loathing and full sociopath trying to process this. Even if we had known for sure it was cancer, not much would've changed. We didn't have the money to treat it. OTOH, we would have been more attentive to her, and made more of an effort to make her last few months more enjoyable.
We talked down about my in-laws for the lack of attention they showed Mo, but slowly became almost as bad as they were. Baby Tigre is nearly 1 now, and takes up most of our time and energy. My MIL just went through a battle with breast cancer (in remission, thank God) and Mrs. Tigre has spent most of the last 3 weeks taking the baby to infant swim classes and visiting with family. All 6 of our pets have gotten less attention. It's a kick in the balls, but we did it to ourselves. So I guess it's like sitting on your balls.
If you managed to read all this, I appreciate it. Feel free to let me have it about being a bad dog owner, or laugh at one of the many mockable things about our former home depicted in that video. I don't care. Give yore dogs an extra belly rub for me, doe. TIA.
Moseley (Mo) was a cavalier king charles spaniel, 12-13 years old. She was originally my sister-in-law's dog, and came to live with us about 4 years ago. She was the sweetest dog I've had, unbelievably loyal, and also incredibly odd.
My SIL & BIL aren't really "dog people." Mo didnt get a lot of attention from them, and got even less after their son was born about 6 years ago. It seemed like she didn't even know her own name when we first got her. While trying to teach it to her, it was immediately obvious how dumb that name was. "Moseley" is annoying to say, and shortening it to something that sounds nearly identical to one of the most common words said to a dog (no,) is sheer lunacy, imo (apologies to those of you with pets named "Bo.") After a while, she was at least somewhat responsive to the name.
I've always enjoyed playing and "fighting" with dogs. Mo is the first dog I've been around that didn't seem to know how to do this. I literally had to teach her to play like a normal dog. Our other two dogs (Mrs. Tigre's two Pom's that I adopted) love this, but she was totally lost. Mo never really figured out the "play bow" or how to pounce on/at me, but would lay flat with her paws forward and her head on the floor, and scoot forward a few inches in a short burst to try and "get" me. It was strange and hilarious to see. I don't really understand it, because those three dogs lived together for several years when they were younger and - I wouldve thought - played together. But it was one of her many quirks and likely my favorite.
Mo loved to chase rabbits and squirrels, but rarely ever barked at anything, unless it was on tv. She barked at dogs, cows, horses, pigs, all kinds of stuff on tv. The best example was when espn was showing some drug-sniffing-dog competition. Mo despised narcs and I found that, perhaps, to be the most admirable thing about her.
Again, this absolutely sucks. Mrs. Tigre and myself are really struggling with guilt and remorse. We had thought for several months that Mo may have had a minor health issue, but nothing life-threatening. It appears that it was cancer. The first few months weren't all that different. Mo has always been pretty lazy, even by dog standards, and she was usually kinda sluggish. I even started referring to her, lovingly, as "Slowsley."
The last few days was a rapid decline. She went from being a picky eater to having nearly no interest in her food. She used to sleep by my side of the bed every night, so close that I had to watch my step every morning getting out of bed to keep from stepping on her. She wouldn't climb the stairs to come to bed for a couple of nights, and slept right by the water bowl the next (Sunday) night. I called the vet that morning and made an appointment for Tuesday, but it was time. The emergency vet confirmed such Monday evening, her liver was shutting/had shut down and she was ready to go.
Sorry for the dear-facebook level novel, but I really need to vent. I'm alternating between extreme self-loathing and full sociopath trying to process this. Even if we had known for sure it was cancer, not much would've changed. We didn't have the money to treat it. OTOH, we would have been more attentive to her, and made more of an effort to make her last few months more enjoyable.
We talked down about my in-laws for the lack of attention they showed Mo, but slowly became almost as bad as they were. Baby Tigre is nearly 1 now, and takes up most of our time and energy. My MIL just went through a battle with breast cancer (in remission, thank God) and Mrs. Tigre has spent most of the last 3 weeks taking the baby to infant swim classes and visiting with family. All 6 of our pets have gotten less attention. It's a kick in the balls, but we did it to ourselves. So I guess it's like sitting on your balls.
If you managed to read all this, I appreciate it. Feel free to let me have it about being a bad dog owner, or laugh at one of the many mockable things about our former home depicted in that video. I don't care. Give yore dogs an extra belly rub for me, doe. TIA.
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