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  Emily

I got Emily as a "rescue" when she was four years old from a family with another male Basset Hound who was two. They decided that they didn’t want her anymore but kept Fred, the male.

For the first week after I took her home she cried and I slept on the floor with her and hand fed her (because she was a very picky girl at the time).

From then on it was true love...she slept in bed with me (of course), followed me everywhere I went and the only time she would do the "basset howl" was when I would leave her at the house or in the car alone...my big slobbery Emma-log.
 

   
Emily
 

The only time I was away from her for an extended period of time was when I left her with my mom and her dogs to move to North Carolina (it was too hot at the time to fly her out), but six months later she was on the plane, then at the airport waiting for me in Raleigh, and was there she met my husband for the second time. It was a good three months before she would go with him outside without much bribing with treats or her mamma, and eventually, true love was achieved for them too (but still loved her mamma better).

Then she drove cross country in a weighed down 68' Dodge Dart with mamma and daddy to Arizona, a year later another move back to Seattle.

Starting shortly after the last move and not being a spring chicken anymore (8 years old) starting showing signs of "wear and tear".  This is also when she met and started her long relationship with her favorite-est vet in the whole wide world, Dr. Whiel at Elliot Bay Animal Hospital.

She went for a dental cleaning and ended up having 7 teeth pulled.  It was then, she acquired the nickname "snaggle" or "double snaggle" because now frequently when she would bark, her lips (one side or both sides) would get stuck in an upright position until she could shake them free.

Shortly after that, we noticed she was starting to stagger around like a drunken sailor, but not in pain. She had 5 "bad disks" (degenerative disk disease)  And ended up with her own Neurologist and surgery on her back, which prevented further deterioration of the disks. Yes, back surgery on a dog and all of the diagnostic testing that goes along with it was expensive.

About a year later, after mamma's gut feeling and recurrent urinary tract infections she was diagnosed with Cushing's Disease (overproduction of cortisol from the adrenal glands) and put on a chemotherapy drug to "knock the adrenal's down into submission".  Yes, the chemo was expensive each month as was the monitoring (by blood test) of the levels of the medicine in her system....but she's my girl, so what could I do?   

Things were pretty stable and quiet for a few years, she would go to her vet appointments like a good girl, play with her cousins, visit her grandma, go to the off leash park and snuggle with mamma.

In 2004, we went for her yearly physical and for some reason I asked Dr. Whiel about gastric torque or "bloat"...asked her what to watch for, what causes it ect...

Six months or so later, after feeding Emily dinner, she started continually barking at me and so thinking she just had to go outside, we went in and out a few times and I noticed that her tummy looked like she had swallowed a soccer ball (it was very noticeable since we kept her slim because of her back...she was only about 45 pounds), then she started vomiting....right away I knew what was happening. I threw her in the car, grabbed my cell phone and called the 24 hour emergency vet and told them I was on my way with a Basset with bloat...to make this part of the story short, she was in surgery within 45 minutes of the onset of her symptoms.

After her surgery, all was well, no organ damage.  I was able to take her home a day later, however, she had no appetite and started vomiting, so back to the ER with a diagnosis of pancreatitis. After a blood transfusion and a 3 day stint in the "ICU", she was able to come home and get her life back to "normal". She was approaching 13 years old. And again, this was very very expensive and that is the responsibility and love you take on when you have a pet...you cant spoil, love or care enough for them. They are innocent and helpless, and they love you so much.

My Emily turned 14, June 22nd 2006.

My Emily died where she liked it best, in bed with mamma, early on the Fourth of July. 

Most of her mammas heart died that night too.

Emily is the best-est friend that I will have.  This I know is true.

Emily was there for me when others weren't, waiting for me to come home, waiting to follow me around the house, waiting to be called funny nicknames, waiting for lovins' from her mamma, waiting for people to be jealous of her love for me and mine for her.

I love you my sweet sweet girl, my snaggletooth, my Emma-log, my pootypants, my poopsnake, my poopshoot, my Emily.

I know you know how much I miss you.

To others who read this...if you cannot treat your pets like this, please, do not get one. They are the most precious things. Appreciate them. Learn from them.


 
 
 
Revised Aug. 25, 2006     |     Printer Friendly Version

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