It's Been a Year

I cannot believe it has been a year since I lost Spot. It seems like it was really only yesterday, I feel like I just took down his crate, like I just saw him. It's an odd feeling.

I wrote about his passing here, but I don't think that I have ever really talked about Spot much at all. Spot was my dog. I don't mean this in the typical sense, I mean Cosmo and Razz are my dogs too. D is my husband. This is different than that. Spot was my dog. I am sure that I will get more than one eye roll for this, but we just got each other. One of my favorite things to do with Spot was just be. We could sit on the couch and I felt like he knew what I was thinking. And lets be honest here, Spot is what planted the seed that grew to me becoming vegan. He knew when I needed to be left alone, when I needed to be cuddled or when one of the other dogs were out of line.

Before I became so involved in roller derby, I fostered for Green Acres Boxer Rescue. Spot was the best welcome dog I have ever seen. He was so laid back, he could make even the shyest dog comfortable. Spot had just enough spunk that he could get a nervous dog to play. Spot helped me temperament test dogs and assisted in Canine Good Citizen Testing. I used to say that if a dog had problems with Spot, that dog would have problems with all dogs.

Spot was also a therapy dog. We visited a home here in Green Bay for developmentally disabled adults. He loved it. He loved the attention, the extra treats, the pudding that the nurse used to give him, he loved all of it. I remember once a security alarm went off, and it was loud. I looked to Spot to see how he would handle it. I swear, he yawned and laid down. Spot loved to visit every where and I loved to take him. I loved to travel with him.

Right now I sound like one of those owners who believes their dog is perfect. Um. No. Spot had always had pee problems and was never the best at the whole house training thing. He had accidents pretty frequently, especially near the end. He was an incorrigible counter surfer and food stealer. He would bark at the worst times (I'm thinking of a midnight feeding at Alabaster Mom's house) and of course, he would pre-bark. He also had joint issues that required surgery, therapy, and lots of TLC.

Nope, Spot was far from perfect. But he was Perfect For Me. I miss him so much.

Annoying

That's how I feel. Annoying. Okay not entirely true. I walk a fine line between annoying and perpetually annoyed.

I picked up Spot's ashes today and I am now trying to find a picture to fit in the urn. There's a fun way to spend a Wednesday. I feel like I have been blogging non-stop about him, so I am going to move on to other topics.

If any one feels the urge (shameless plug ahead) I am participating in the annual Big Brothers and Sisters of Northeastern WI Bowl for Kids on Saturday. I am looking for donations. A donation of $10 or more and I will blog about what ever you like. You can make donations here: DONATIONS!!! I love bowling, but I suck at it. No big woop.

So yeah, that's all I seem to have for today. If you would like to read a truly good blog, check out Alabaster Mom. Her entry for today was hilarious!

The Good Times

I know that when ever a loved one dies, everyone tells you to remember the good times. That's usually easier said than done. I am lucky, Spot was a funny dog and I have lots of great memories about him. Alabaster Mom blogged about Spot's "pre-bark" here. It was a funny little bark he did when he wanted attention, or food, or whenever he was bored. It was like he was revving up for the real thing.

Another time I will never forget happened at a local insurance company. They often hold fund raisers for GABR and allow us to bring dogs. Spot came as a representative for the rescue, as he was very laid back and loved people. Joining us that day was Gracie, a senior female also being fostered in Green Bay. She and Spot had eyes for each other. They were grooming each other all day, laid next to each other, you get the picture. All of a sudden, some of the other volunteers and I look over and witness Spot mounting and humping little Gracie. Spot was not normally a humper, but this was hysterical. And Gracie seemed no worse for wear.

At the first Boxer Bash Spot and I attended together, he became friends with a female named Sasha (or Pasta Batman). This was in Spot's younger days when he still enjoyed a good chase. Somehow the two of them got a hold of a cardboard tube (like the inside of a roll of paper towels or wrapping paper) and were playing with it. Sasha would run and Spot would chase her. She would always be looking behind to see if Spot was following, and if he wasn't, she flaunted the tube in his face. So cute.

My mom was staying with us once. She decided to sleep in the basement on a recliner. She was a little concerned about how Spot would be with her. Dave and I went out to see a band and when we came home at 2 am we went down to check on mom and Spot. He had jumped on the end of the recliner and laid down right in moms' lap.

As Spot aged, this Spot on the couch was his favorite. He would lay there and watch the world go by. I miss him so.

Spot

One of the few times Spot ran.

I plan on writing more about this, but I just can't seem to come up with the words right now.

Spot was escorted to the Rainbow Bridge on Tuesday. He had another stroke very early Tuesday morning and it left him completely debilitated. He could no longer walk or see and I am not sure he knew who I was. He no longer had control of his bladder and wasn't eating or drinking. I stayed with him until the end. It was heart wrenching.


I miss him so much.

The Spot Chronicals

We had another episode with Spot a day or so before New Years Eve. All of a sudden he was very unstable, wobbly, and couldn't make it down the stairs. He peed right in front of me and hubby (I should make it clear that Spot has bladder issues, but he normally doesn't do this right in front of us) and he would become very confused when outside. He also wasn't eating. As I looked at him, he looked...droopy. I thought to myself "Maybe he had a stroke". But I know that dogs very infrequently have strokes. To confirm my self diagnosis, I got out my home veterinary manual. And it said strokes in dogs are uncommon.

He ate that night and the next morning but it was with assistance. I had to hold the bowl up and make sure the food didn't get to mushed in the corner.

I fully thought that I would be escorting Spot to the bridge on New Years Eve. DH and I went so far as to cancel our annual party.

I called the vet first thing and they were able to get me in at 10. Which ruled. I mentioned nothing of the stroke. It took me forever to get Spot into the exam room, but we finally did and I gave all the symptoms to the tech, and then mentioned the s-word. The vet came in, had him walk around, looked in his ears and eyes, etc. He confirmed my suspicions.

The stroke was mild. In fact, I couldn't even tell you when it happened. The vet gave him a shot of something (a steroid) and sent us home with some prednisone. I can say I was hopeful, but not optimistic. The vet estimated Spot's age as over 10 (which is over what we had thought) so I wasn't holding my breath.

All I can say is wow. We got home, I let him outside and then took him upstairs. Let the other two out and went outside for a smoke. I looked in the back door and Spot was standing there looking at me. This means he got down the steps with out issue. He is on his second day of prednisone and unless I told you what had happened, you would probably have no idea. But you do because I just told you.

I know my time with Sir Spotula is limited, but I am glad I didn't have to say good by just yet.



I must laugh. As I was closing this entry, he did pee on the floor. That's not all his fault. It's a side effect of the prednisone.

He's Just an Old Man

Well, after I posted last night, Sir Spotula decided that he was going to immediately bounce out of what ever funk he was in.

When I woke up this morning (2 hours late, meaning an hour into my shift) I couldn't even justify taking him to the vet. They would have just looked at me like I was nuts. They do this on a regular basis. So when I went in to pick up the de-wormer for Elmer Fudd, I talked for a while with the tech. Essentially, he is just getting old. He will have good days and bad, but I can't bring him in every time he has a bad day. Now if we had two bad days in a row, that would be another story.

I am going to take him soon to have a water deprivation test. This tests for kidney failure. I was going to try and schedule some time after the holidays.

Happy Thoughts

Spot is not doing well. I am not sure what is wrong with him, and I am pretty sure that I am going to take him to the vet tomorrow.

He has been drinking water like crazy and thus having accidents in his crate. Which as most dog owners know, isn't normal or good. Last night he threw up. A. Lot. It looked like about four days worth of food. He wouldn't get up to eat. He didn't wag his tail, and I could hardly get him up to go outside. I did and he seemed better and less lethargic than he did in the morning.

As my good friend Alabaster Mom pointed out this morning, we have absolutely no idea how old Spot is. His estimated age is between 7 and 9, but for all we know he could be 14.

I just hope he is going to be okay. I am not ready to let go yet.