We are so blessed to be a part of Dogster. Mom and the rest of the Wonder Weenies are so touched by everyone who reached out in love in response to Lucy's journey to the Bridge. As mentioned in the Forums, I can only imagine Lucy is rockin' the Bridge doxie style with all her Dogster pals who have gone before her. No kidney failure, heart disease, liver failure, pancreatitis or arthritis is allowed there. If I know my Lucy she's hurling muskrats at everyone left and right, patrolling and protecting her potty, and making a mad dash to try and eat everyone's food...not to mention upturning every trashcan there. BOL! For those of us that are left behind the memories abound both hysterical and heartbreaking, and the love we've felt from everyone here in the last week has been a comfort and such a reassurance that sometimes the hard decision to act with mercy towards the suffering pup is indeed the right one.

Lucy said her goodbyes to the world today. She finally got old and too sick to allow continued suffering. The last few months have been a journey downhill. Perhaps that's why we distanced ourselves from Dogster. Subconciously, I think I didn't want to publicize her decent from "sassy old lady dog" to "terrified and suffering". And for a while she was ok. But this past week she quit eating, started vomiting what she was eating and wetting the bed. We tried meds and sub-q fluids, but the fluid went through her in a matter of a couple of hours, and she looked at me so pitifully when I put the needle in. It's like she was begging me to stop, begging me for mercy. So I said "ok". I'm not selfish. I gave medicine a try, and she didn't want that. It might sound a little crazy to say that I knew she didn't want that, but I just did. She seemed almost shell-shocked by it. So I said my goodbyes and fed her a huge glob of peanut butter before we went off to the vet's to do the deed. And she was so peaceful. No more shivering from the pain of her body betraying her, no more stoic attempts to hide her weakening state, no more pain. It's weird because I don't feel bad about it. I don't feel sorry. I'm afraid I waited too long maybe. But she really did just go from "old" to "bad" to "horrible" to "suffering" within the past week. It was shocking how sudden it was. Horrifying from my perspective watching her body's systems just shut down like a domino effect. Funny thing is that she came to me with a heart murmur. She was on medication for that, and it got remarkably better. At the vet this week it was about the only thing that was doing well. Lucy Lou, I'll miss ya, my sweets. So will all of the Wonder Weenies. You only spent a year and a half with me, but it was fantastic. The song is ended, but the melody lingers on.

Hmm. Mom feels she must follow up on her previous rant about "failing" her home visit. As much as I disapprove of using fostering as an excuse to get a rescue to pay one's bills for a dog that one would adopt if one could afford it, and as ridiculous I think it is to reject someone's application because it's too difficult to give up your foster, I do have to say...

...maybe this is turning out better for us anyways. Not that Larry wouldn't have worked out, but I feel I must do justice to Trudy the newbie. And I must do justice to the rescue for letting me adopt this puppy who is trying to eat my phone bill right now and earlier chewed up part of the mattress pad. :) I don't think Larry was the best fit anyway, but once the laid-back, older girlies get used to this puppy being here, this could be just the addition that we needed!

Failed my home visit...sort of

I've thought long and hard about how to word this, but I can't decide whether to pinpoint the cause of my frustration as age discrimination or just typical, women's cattiness. Anyways, to say the least I'm stemmied and frustrated. I volunteer a lot of my time with a local rescue group. I give a lot to them as well, and I am super gung-ho about animal rescue. If you know me, I would think that might be kinda obvious.

So here's the deal: For months now (literally months) I've been talking about and planning to adopt one of the dogs that has been in foster care. He actually was the dog that directed me to this rescue in the beginning, but at the time I wasn't able to adopt him. Instead, I adopted my lovely Lucy Louise! Granted, I've toyed with the idea of adopting other dogs, but he's the one I've waited it out for. Well, I recently finally was able to apply to adopt him. I saved the funds and have recently moved to a much more dog-friendly dwelling. Well, I was denied for the following reasons: I am too naive to understand the costs of taking care of senior dogs, and I wanted to adopt him for "the wrong reasons". In other words, I want him only because I feel sorry for him.

It's important to add that I was approved for adoption of another dog, just not for him. And I'm fine with that and pretty darn excited! My dogs didn't seem to gel with him anyway. What I'm not fine with are their supposed "reasons" for the rejection. Lucy is 15 years old and has heart disease afterall, so I think I have a decent understanding of the costs of senior dogs! Glady at 7 has pretty severe colitis as well. And I just took Lily into the vet for anaphylactic shock! Heck! All my life I've been sick with one illness or another and even had brain surgery, so I think I've grasped budgeting for health care, veterinary or otherwise. Secondly, I was accused of merely "feeling sorry" for this dog. Well, he's a victim of IVDD leaving him disabled for the rest of his life. And he was unwanted at some point and ended up in animal rescue. Of course, I feel sorry for him! But I stand firm that I wanted to adopt him because he's a great dog. Besides, I always thought it was nice when someone came along and wanted to adopt senior, special needs pups.

The black and white of the matter is that while his foster can't afford to adopt him right now, she's also not willing to part with him. Ok...I feel like she's using the rescue a bit since they pay his vet bills and supply his food, but whatever! I've learned to keep my idealistic, fervent mouth shut when it comes to these types of things. Even so, I count these fellow rescue volunteers as my "friends", and I'm a bit miffed that they'd imply that I'm irresponsible and naive despite the fact that I'm an independent, single adult who's been to Hell and back in her life, is responsible enough to buy and maintain a house, is caring for and spoiling three sometimes difficult dogs, and juggling a full-time job and various volunteer activities! I'm also miffed that they display him as "available for adoption" even if he's apparently not.

Ya know, I should be happy. I'm allowed to adopt a dog afterall...an adorable doxie mix pup who will fit in great with the Wonder Weenies! Who will be loved and adored and spoiled! And as mentioned before the other dog in question probably isn't the perfect fit anyway. But I just wish my own friends felt secure enough to be forthright with me: They won't adopt this dog to me because the foster can't part with it! Period. End of story. So why beat around the bush and point the finger at me because I'm supposedly young and naive?! It would be different if these people were strangers, but they're my "friends".

Ugh! I had to go to the vet this week. Bah! I don't need some vet to tell me I'm old and gray. But I guess I need a vet to tell me I'm healthy and old and gray. I passed! I'm doing great for 15. A little arthritis, but aside from that I'm good. Can't hear a thing anymore though! That really threw me when we moved house this past week. I wouldn't eat for a whole day, and if you know me I like to eat!!! But I was scared. Now I'm settled in though I haven't knocked the trash over yet. BOL! And apparently I'm healthy as can be for 15 years old.

Whoa! We're moving house!!! And this time it's a real house! Yippee! Ok, so I admit I'm a bit old and set in my routine and ways. But we don't get to go outside very often where we live now because we gotta go down the stairs as a foursome and walk around as a foursome. So, if one wants to go and one wants to sniff and one wants to poop, Mom has to try to untangle herself and get pulled all different ways, and nobody gets to do what they wanted to. Now, no leashes and no stairs because it's our house with our yard and it's one story!!! It'll take time to get used to, no doubts about it. But this will be Lily's fourth and final move with Mom, my second and final move with Mom and Glady's first. Wish us luck in our new house! We can do whatever we want there with mom's permission. And there are no stairs and no landl0rds and no pet deposits and no leashes at all times when we're outside. And no annoying neighbors banging on the walls at all hours and no unwanted maintenance men climbing on our porch each and everyday. Which means that Lily, Glady and I don't have to worry about as many intrusions on our territory. Woohoo!!! It's exciting stuff! Although Mom's been saying something about foster dogs and adopting another dog. Hmm...don't know what to think about that!

Um...so how exactly does one tell the humom that her creation is not at all to satisfaction? See...she thought she was doing me a huge favor. Lily and Glady both use little steps to get up on the sofa or the bed, but I DON'T DO STAIRS!!! Even if it's only two or three, so Mom made a ramp. It's cool I guess, but I apparently don't do ramps either. Even when there's food involved. I DON'T DO RAMPS!!! I jump. Yes, I'm 15 years old; I'm a doxie; I've got arthritis; but apparently I'm content to jump off the bed and jump off the sofa. Steps, ramp be damned!!! I don't do these handicap ways of getting around.

ADOPT 08 CONTEST

How does one begin to tell Lucy's story! So much of it is a story that I as her adoptive mom don't know. You see, Lucy didn't come to me as a young dog by any means. She came to me as a scared, geriatric, homeless miniature dachshund. It's only human that after our aging relative has passed on we try to get rid of any painful reminders or extra responsibilities we can't tackle. This isn't such a big deal when it comes to donating a musical instrument or having a garage sale. It becomes a big deal when it comes to a living, breathing pet who is left behind. Lucy's former owner died leaving Lucy, a fourteen year old dachshund homeless and unspoken for. The lady's family certainly didn't want her, so she ended up in the hands of animal services.

Somewhere Lucy must've had a guardian angel because she was immediately picked out by an employee who called the Richardson Humane Society and turned her over to foster care. Lucky Lucy! A geriatric dog and animal control don't make a lasting relationship, so this was saving grace. This is also where I came in. Long had I wanted another dog, and long had my current doxie Lily wanted a furry companion. To put it point blank, we were lonely! It's not easy getting a dog, however. It took months, even a couple years of saving funds and months of working things around to get to the point where another dog was possible. By this time, the two of us were desparate!!! Then, lo and behold, a local rescue has a gorgeous dapple doxie up for adoption even if she is a senior.

What I didn't realize before I fell in love with this dog is that she was not only a senior, she was 14 years old with heart disease and arthritis. Not exactly uncommon in geriatric dogs, but still I was unprepared for these diagnoses. Not to mention that dog numero dos wasn't welcome in my apartment complex, and my secrecy mission was becoming harder and harder to maintain. How does one typically solve this problem? By returning the dog, of course. I'm not your typical person though. How could I return this little girl to her homeless predicament?! Instead of returning Lucy, I kept on saving every extra bit of money to pay for her veterinary care and for the expense of moving house!

It was absolutely worth it even if it wasn't an easy feat. Lily and I immediately began to see the difference with Lucy around. Lily quit misbehaving now she had some company to play with and curl up next to. I found that work was more tolerable, I found it less lonely at home even if three is sometimes considered a crowd, and I found awesome friends in her rescuers and found something worthwhile to dedicate my time to: animal rescue!!! Getting Lucy was more than just "getting a dog" to have another dog, something I've been accused of before. It was finding company, friendship, family, purpose and love all at once. Something I don't think I'd have found unless I adopted the dog who being abandoned after fourteen years, needed a loving home just as much as say the 3 month old puppy up for adoption in the picture next to her as I perused the RHS website.

Hallo! I've got cool news. Aside from the fact that we're going on vacation to the Buda, TX Wiener Dog Races soon, Mom did a cool thing. She got us new food!!! Of course, I like any and all food. But Mom decided that we all needed to be eating the same thing. So she went out and bought some Natural Balance Duck and Potato since we like the treats so much. Yay! It's good, and already we can tell a difference. YAY!!! New food, good food means happy Luce!

CRIES!!! No, Mom. No!!! Mom brought up the "d" word again. D for diet!!! Oh the shame! I've gained a pound in the last month apparently. So...Mom's put me on a diet. Groan! Sob! Shudder! Despair! I have to scavenge for trash and potting soil, etc. anyways just to treat myself. So...why me? Why me? Mom says I'll feel a whole lot better when I'm back to 10 lbs though. I hardly agree with that sentiment at all!