I say it every time. I'm not getting another dog. I'm done. I want the freedom to not have to worry about getting back home to take care of the dog or the expense of boarding them. But, I usually cave in and get another one. The one in the picture above (Milton) I did not choose him. My daughter chose him for me and just brought him home and said "Here."
He struggled this morning going out to do his business. He has staggered before but this one was worse than the other times. I even let him off the cable so that he didn't have that hindering his attempting to get back onto the porch. As soon as that cable was off he was fine. I immediately grabbed him and snapped it back on. It was not intentional. I think he was more or less happy that he had managed to get on the porch and was saying "See Mom! I knew I could do it!"
It is the uncertainty of it all. Every day, all the time I deal with him I am like "Is this it? Is he going to collapse? Will I have to carry him to the car? Will he seize?" It exhausts me, the worry.
He has seized about four times on me (us). It happens when he eats too fast and chokes on his food and can't get air. He begins to seize and shake, falls down, wets himself and throws up. It is quite the mess. I have a food bowl that is built to be a maze. It slows the eating down tremendously. The last time I had given him a piece of bread with peanut butter (to wrap around his medicine) and I made the piece of bread too big. Lesson learned. He is on Caprofen to help him walk, get up and lay down. I'm not sure the dosage can be increased. It seems to have stopped working.
I have five boxes of ashes from our previous dogs. Sable, Slade, Bee Bee, Cheech and Chong. It's kind of silly having all these boxes. But, I can't stop and not get Milton's. I couldn't do it.
One of the best dogs I ever owned was a little terrier. The closest I can come to describing her is the grey/silver Dandie Dinmont Terrier breed. My brother-in-law found her running around his worksite. She had a collar and a tag. I called the county to find out the owner of the dog. Came to find out the lady had passed away. She is buried in my oldest sister's Pet Cemetery in her back yard. (I'm sorry, the dog not the lady). My sister took her in when I moved to Virginia in the mid 80's. The poor little thing had only three legs from a Fourth of July accident where she was hit by a car. She lived two years after that accident. She was such a devoted, lovable dog. I've never come anywhere near another one with that personality.
My cat Moses, thinks he is a dog. He attaches himself to a dog and when it passes, he moves on to the next one. Right now he is lovey dovey with Milton. What he will do when Milton passes, I don't know. He has been warming up to me. I did some reading about cats who don't like being pet or touched much and did what the article said. Now, the cat has to climb up onto my desk all the time and lay on my keyboard which I have to move out of the way. He is a lot bigger than he used to be. The article(s) said to give him a pat or two and then stop. Don't force it. He is always (play) biting me. Sometimes he chews on my finger. (Or gums my finger rather.) There is a space between his fang and teeth so it does not hurt me. I only let him do this for a few seconds.
I'll probably stick with cats after Milton passes.














