Cleo was a good dog
***Warning: Extremely depressing blog ahead***
I know that both quantity and quality of recent blogs has left much to be desired, but I refuse to apologize any longer. I will get to it when I get to it. You have four kids and work 50 hour weeks and see how much blogging you get done. This spring has flat out sucked. Between my health problems, our schedule with kids’ school activities and sports, not to mention the two babies and their ever pressing needs, we have barely had time to think.
Well we had a nice dose of reality this evening. We had to put down my dog of 14 years down tonight.
She was a mutt, not very bright, loyal as hell and would protect any member of the family to her death, but a combination of her advanced age and lost fight with Lyme disease was too much for her to handle. My wife rescued her from her sister’s house when we were first dating. Her sister’s dog had a litter and by the time my wife got there to see them, five of the six pups had died. Cleo was not great shape at the time, but Mrs. Sponge brought her home and we nursed her back to health. She fit in the palm of my hand back then. We cut open a stuffed dog and put an old wind-up clock inside for her to sleep next to (to simulate mother’s heart beat).
As she got older, she got pushed aside by son #1, then further away by son #2, then again five years later by daughter #1 and then again by daughter #2. There was a cat and hamster in between somewhere as well, but she was having none of that and quickly took her dominant position as pet #1.
She went blind about five days ago, it turns out it was caused by extremely high blood pressure and it somehow affecting the retinas of her eyes. The blood pressure was caused by kidney disease, which was cause by Lyme disease, which she contracted about a year ago and had a tough time getting over. She went through three rounds of antibiotics, but it turned out not to be enough.
I don’t know why I am writing this, maybe as a release – if that’s the reason it’s not helping. I lost a friend today, a cranky old decrepit friend, but a friend none-the-less. When I was sick and had to spend six months of my life in bed, she was there for me. She always knew when I was sick; she was always there, just within reach, but not in the way.
Cleo was a good dog.
I know that both quantity and quality of recent blogs has left much to be desired, but I refuse to apologize any longer. I will get to it when I get to it. You have four kids and work 50 hour weeks and see how much blogging you get done. This spring has flat out sucked. Between my health problems, our schedule with kids’ school activities and sports, not to mention the two babies and their ever pressing needs, we have barely had time to think.
Well we had a nice dose of reality this evening. We had to put down my dog of 14 years down tonight.
She was a mutt, not very bright, loyal as hell and would protect any member of the family to her death, but a combination of her advanced age and lost fight with Lyme disease was too much for her to handle. My wife rescued her from her sister’s house when we were first dating. Her sister’s dog had a litter and by the time my wife got there to see them, five of the six pups had died. Cleo was not great shape at the time, but Mrs. Sponge brought her home and we nursed her back to health. She fit in the palm of my hand back then. We cut open a stuffed dog and put an old wind-up clock inside for her to sleep next to (to simulate mother’s heart beat).
As she got older, she got pushed aside by son #1, then further away by son #2, then again five years later by daughter #1 and then again by daughter #2. There was a cat and hamster in between somewhere as well, but she was having none of that and quickly took her dominant position as pet #1.
She went blind about five days ago, it turns out it was caused by extremely high blood pressure and it somehow affecting the retinas of her eyes. The blood pressure was caused by kidney disease, which was cause by Lyme disease, which she contracted about a year ago and had a tough time getting over. She went through three rounds of antibiotics, but it turned out not to be enough.
I don’t know why I am writing this, maybe as a release – if that’s the reason it’s not helping. I lost a friend today, a cranky old decrepit friend, but a friend none-the-less. When I was sick and had to spend six months of my life in bed, she was there for me. She always knew when I was sick; she was always there, just within reach, but not in the way.
Cleo was a good dog.
posted by Sponge at 11:23 PM
2 Comments:
You don't realize that pets are a family member until something like this happens. I had to put my cat down in college and my Dad and I bawled like a little girls. You think that you can be tough until you realize that this isn't reality TV, this isn't a video game and you're watching death and the end of your friend. I don't think I'm going to be up for putting 'my current cat' down (if and when that happens).
Goodbyes are always sad. But there's always a bright perspective. 14 years is 98 in dog years and it sounds like you provided a good home. If she had another chance, she'd probably come back as your pet. We're all on borrowed time my friend and a good home is at the extreme limit of 'good' that you can do for anyone.
If you believe in the afterlife or not, Cleo adds to your library of dog love. By that I mean, you'll just love your next dog more. Well, that was a comforting thought when I put my cat down. In time, you'll laugh in fond rememberance. :)
my condolences.
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