Pippin

Zoe curls up with Angie at night, and during the day. I hope this won't be too hard on her. And Casey's never been in a home without another greyhound. They're both still at Dee's, and will be until I get home on Saturday. I'll post details later.

I've asked that her suzy award pj's be donated to another deserving senior, since I never got her measurements taken. my heart is breaking

I'm sure they are - and Jessie's very comfortable around greyhounds

Last year, Aug 6 was a Tuesday. I had Jessie scheduled for a dental that morning, and I dropped her off at the vet's on my way into the office. This was during the 2-week period that I was in town between July 8 and Oct 9. Vet opens at 8, and I was back at my office by 9am, not expecting to hear anything from the vet until after lunch sometime. Around 930, my cell phone rang. Caller id said "Vet" so I answered it. Doc said she wasn't doing Jessie's dental that day - her blood tests showed very elevated kidney values, and putting her under would just add more stress to her system. "What does this really mean?" I asked. "Are you telling me this is the beginning of the end?" "It might be." "So we have... what? Three weeks? Three months? Three years?" "Yes. It could be any of those, depending on how she responds to the treatment." (odd that I can remember almost exactly some parts of the conversation 12 months later) Doc kept her all day, pushing IV fluids, and Jessie pranced out to meet me when I picked her up, just like normal. We put her on a special diet, made sure she had plenty of water available at all times, and I took her with me everywhere I could before I hit the road again. I left for an extended road trip about 10 days later, and was gone for 3 weeks. Jessie stayed with my friend Dee, and was thoroughly spoiled by her and Jon. Meanwhile, I kept dreaming about her, and trying to use my dreams to tell her it was ok to go, if she was ready to leave. I kept my personal cell phone turned on at the client sites (it's usually off when I'm with a client), and explained to everyone that I had a sick dog, and would take any call that came in about her, even if it interrupted a class. Everyone was very understanding. We had a health scare the 2nd week I was gone, and Dee took Jessie in to Doc. I told Dee that if Doc said it was time to go, don't make her wait for me to get home. But it was just a urinary tract infection, and abx cleared it up. Sept 7, I was still on the road, but almost ready to head back to GA, and Jessie was due in to Doc's for a re-check of her bloodwork. I was driving back from TX to GA, and had made it about halfway through Mississippi when my phone rang that evening. It was Dr Brown. I pulled into a bank parking lot to talk to her, so I could give her my full attention. She'd run Jessie's tests, and the news was not good. The values had gotten worse, not better. "What's next?" I asked, dreading her answer. "We let her go. Kidney failure is NOT an easy way to go, and it wouldn't be kind to keep her around." "Ok. When can we do it?" (Doc and I have a long-standing agreement: I trust her to tell me, objectively and disapassionately, when it's time to say goodbye, and when she says it's time, I'll say OK.) She checked her appointment book, and had a 20 minute opening free that Saturday, Sep 9. I would be back in town sometime Friday, leaving again on Sunday, so that worked out. We scheduled the appointment, and then I sat in the parking lot and cried. I picked Jessie up from Dee's at around 2pm on Friday afternoon, and left the other dogs there. Jessie & I had a solid 24 hours together where it was just us. I gave her raw hamburger for dinner - she ate it like she'd not been fed in days. (I cleaned it up from the floor later, undigested. Her system was already shutting down) Saturday morning, Sept 9, I took Jessie out to breakfast. There's a little restaurant I love that has an outdoor patio, and you can bring your dogs if you sit outside. She lay on her pillow next to my chair, eating whatever I gave her. The folks at the table next to me were admiring her (everyone loved her), and collected their bacon as a gift to her. She ate their bacon, disdaining mine. *smile* Usually I had to fight traffic to get to Doc's. Not this day. We were there early. They told me we could go on back, and Doc would be there when she finished with another patient. I sat on the floor, and held my little girl on my lap, and told her over and over how much I loved her, and how glad I was that she had come to live with me. I told her she wasn't really a nuisance, it was just my pet name for her, and that there would never be another iggie like her. I thanked her for loving me, and told her I'd see her at the bridge someday. Dee came to join us, so I wouldn't have to go through this alone, and then Doc came in. We reviewed everything, and agreed again that this was the best decision, and the right time. We lifted Jessie up to the exam table, so that we could surround her with our love, and Doc gave her the injection. We stood around and told Jessie stories while we waited for her over-generous heart to stop. At last it was still. As we fell silent, we could hear Dee's iggy George barking from the van. Dee said maybe Jessie stopped on her way out to say goodbye to George. Maybe she did, because George had been ignoring me when I house-sat for Dee, but the next time I was there, he sought me out and sat in my lap, and snuggled next to me at bedtime. I left Doc with a hole in my heart. A hole that scabbed over, but would rip open at unexpected times. Christmas-time was one, and I found myself bawling my eyes out as I remembered our 2 1/2 years together. I missed her, and her little idiosyncracies that drove me crazy when she was alive. My budget was pretty slammed with Jessie's last month, and my 2 big girls had dentals due, so I had to wait awhile to do anything about bringing her home. I finally have the spare $$, so she'll be coming home sometime in the next couple weeks. When I get moved into my new place, I"m planting a butterfly bush in a sunny spot for her. It will be the beginning of my memorial garden. My lovable nuisance when she first moved in: Two and a half years later: I still remember you, sweetheart. You'll always have part of my heart. Thanks for sharing your heart with me.

Oh, Wendie..... : Run free, sweet Dylan

That means that you made a donation last year on May 18 or thereabouts, and THAT donation is about to expire. But our supporter status is tied to our most recent donations, so if you just made a donation for the server woes, you're good for another year.

That's the part that bothers me, and you're right -reformatting is probably the only real option you have to prevent future occurrences. I'll send another pittance when payday arrives.

How did our server get used? Where was the security breach? Just curious....

LOVE the pawprints!

I like how it displays GTers when you float the cursor over the map. Especially entertaining in the North East, where there's a big concentration of us. Looks like it might be a little off on its geography, though. 3DogNight says she's in SLC, but her map pin is northwest of Puget sound.

COOL! One less distraction for me on Saturday! Good luck, Jeff! And thanks for the anticipated improvements.

((((((((((((((((((((((Heather)))))))))))))))))))))))))) I'm just now seeing this. I'm so sorry, my friend.

I've known Profee for several years, thanks to RennFest, and I had the joy of spending Christmas with him (and Hunk & Jeany). He is, to me, the epitome of a greyhound gentleman. My world is a little emptier since Friday, but I know that he'll be waiting for his mom at the bridge - he loved Nan as much as she loved him. Godspeed, sweet Prince. And if you see a little blue tuxedo iggie, let her know that her mommy still loves & misses her, too.

firefox browser on XP - no problems here

I got a call from the vet's office earlier this week. It seems that I've finally gotten the bill paid for your last month with me. I'm sorry you had such a rough last month, little one... that's one of the few regrets I have about our time together. But Doc promised me that we didn't leave you hanging around longer than necessary. I'm glad you still visit me in my dreams - I miss you bunches. Now that I've paid the vet, I can start saving to bring you home. Those folks won't let me make payments, so I have to wait until I have all the $$ gathered up. Someday I'm gonna own a home again, and when I do, you'll be planted in the memory garden, with your own butterfly bush to lie under. But you'll always be close to me in my heart. I was working on my Christmas letter earlier this week, and as part of my sharing with my friends about this past year, I had to share that you went to the Bridge. I was weeping on the plane as I wrote it, and it was as fresh as if it were just last week, instead of 3 months ago this Saturday. I miss how you would look at me with your little cataract-covered eyes, trying so hard to see me and somehow managing to see me with your heart, and to communicate so very clearly how much you loved and trusted me. I miss seeing you when I come home from a road-trip, and scooping you up out of your crate at Dee's, or off the chair in her kitchen, and how your whole body would shake with excitement while you sniffed every inch of me your nose could reach, making sure it was really me, and I really did come back for you. I miss you every time I drop a piece of food on the floor - now that you're gone, I have to pick it up and throw it away, because you're not there to hoover it up for me. You taught me so much, little one. I've never really been able to put it into words, but I know it's true. You adapted to the extreme changes in your life, the loss of your first love after 9 years, and yet you gave yourself unreservedly to me, trusting that I wouldn't abandon you like the other lady did. And I wouldn't. You wrapped your paws around my heart, and then you dug around until you'd made yourself a cozy little nest inside there. That's where you live now, besides the Bridge. Safely nested in my heart. Home forever, in your forever home. But I wish I could pick you up again, and kiss the top of your head, and watch you demolish a greenie. Someday, my friend.... Until then, remember that I love you.

"I Believe" (as sung by Diamond Rio) Every now and then soft as breath upon my skin I feel you come back again And its like you havent been gone a moment from my side Like the tears were never cried Like the hands of time are holding you and me And with all my heart Im sure were closer than we ever were I dont have to hear or see, Ive got all the proof I need There are more than angels watching over me I believe, I believe Chorus That when you die your life goes on It doesnt end here when youre gone Every soul is filled with light It never ends and if Im right Our love can even reach across eternity I believe, I believe Forever, youre a part of me Forever, in the heart of me And Ill hold you even longer if I can The people who dont see the most Say that I believe in ghosts And if that makes me crazy, then I am cause I believe There are more than angels watching over me I believe, I believe ********************* Run fast and free, sweet boy. Enjoy the reunion with your first momma, but dont' forget to send some lub and licks to your mama diane

I just realized it's because I wasn't wearing my glasses, and had enlarged the font. In my best Emily Litella voice.... "never mind"

This is so minor I hate to mention it, lest I seem like I'm nitpicking, but.... using Firefox as my browser, when I'm inside a forum (but not a thread), in the top center where it says "Mark Forum Read," the text is longer than the box the text is in. It's not a big deal, but I figure you'd like to know. I'm just glad your headache is mostly over.

If I'm ever in your neck of the woods, I'll buy you a beer Congrats on being back up and running again.

One more part of making it real.... I finally emailed my non-GT friends and let them know she was gone. Some of them had met her, others hadn't, but all knew about her, and knew how much I loved her.

Sweet Holly.... I'm glad you're reunited with your best friend Brett. But please take a moment to stop by your mom's and let her know you're doing ok. I know she misses you. Run free, pretty girl...

Burpdog pointed me towards an ebay site with urns at VERY reasonable prices, so I picked out her urn today. I'm not going to actually purchase it until I've figured out when I can afford the cremation. I'm hoping that will be relatively soon, because I'd like to bring her home. I'll be using a place that Dee recommends, and has used for years. It's as affordable as the places Doc knew about, and it's guaranteed individual cremation. I'm finding that matters to me. *sigh* I hate that I have to spend time thinking about stuff like this. I hate that she's gone, even though I know she's better off.

It was two weeks ago today, and just about this time, when I walked into the vet’s office with my little Jessie for one last visit. I left the following Monday on a 10-day business trip, so this is the first weekend I’ve been back home since that sad day. Last weekend, I dreamt that I was in a small house, visiting with friends. My little Jessie was sitting beside me on the sofa while we visited. Towards the end of the dream, one of my friends mentioned her, and I replied something along the lines of “Oh, this is my little dog, Jessie. But she’s not really here. She died last week, but I remember how she looked and how she felt, so I can have her with me whenever I want to.” My dream then faded into another dream, which meant it should have been forgotten, but as I was brushing my teeth the next morning, I remembered it. I’m glad I remembered it, because I fully believe its message was true. As long as I remember my little girl, she’ll always be with me. I’m house-sitting this weekend, for my dog-sitter (a wonderful lady who keeps my girls at the drop of a hat). So as I was driving in from the airport Thursday night, heading straight to my dog-sitter’s house, I started realizing that for the first time since she’s been my dog-sitter, there won’t be a little dog there, so happy to see me that she can’t stop quivering. So I called one of my good friends and said “who am I gonna snuggle with tonight? My snuggler’s not here anymore.” She didn’t really have an answer for me (there’s not really an answer to a question like that). I got to the house, and let the dogs out to run in the backyard. But one of them wouldn’t run out. Little Giorgio, an elderly italian greyhound, has appointed himself as my special friend this weekend. If I’m sitting in a chair, he wants to be on my lap. If it’s bedtime, he’s snuggled up beside me, keeping my back warm. This intrigues me, because George was out in the van as we were helping Jessie to the Rainbow Bridge, and right about the time she was gone, he started barking. Doc suggested that maybe Jessie had stopped at the van to say goodbye to George. Usually, when I’m house-sitting, George hangs out in his little bed, covered up with his blanket, sleeping. This weekend, he’s the most sociable I’ve ever seen him. He’s not Jessie, but he helps. Thanks, George.

poor pup poor family poor vet Run free, sweet pup - look for the big dobie with the awesome biscuits. He & his friends will keep you company until your family gets to join you. Dear family - your pup knows you loved him. He'll be waiting for you at the bridge. Dear vet - what a terrible experience for you. It's always hard to lose a patient.