the Little Things

There are too many "little things" that Jekyll does that have me reeling. How can I go on without them? Never seeing them again? I cannot imagine not having them in my life every single day. He is going to not be here one day, soon, and with each passing day I wonder, "Is this the last time he....?" 

The "little things," his little personal idiosyncrasies, those special things he does, only he does, are the spirit of his independent originality. They are what makes him who he is,, so irreplaceable and magical. They are the pieces of his life that made me stop and take pause and leave me now feeling as if there will never be another perfect moment captured just like this. These are the things that largely no one else knows. They are what make us.

His life is the series of "little things" I don't want to imagine living without and never seeing again. 

Here's to you my Jekyll-pup.. all your guts, glamour, and gluttony. I'm grateful for every second we had, until the very last of each of them.

Here's to all of your "little things" ....

The cowardly curiosity of the walnut in the pond. This boy loves the abundant life of the farm. He loves the pond and stream obsessively. There is so much hidden moving living mystery that lurks beneath. But the uncovering of those mysteries is often too intimidating for his cowardly curiosity. For instance, he will focus on a bobbing being for an hour. Too perplexed to look away, and too frozen in fear to challenge it. Almost always it turns out to be a walnut, a leaf, some odd shaped stick. He will jump backward 10 feet if it haphazardly approaches him too close. Until eventually, inevitably it is revealed as it is, dead, lifeless, and harmless.  To which he will paw at it, remind it he is master of this (and every other domain) and move on to thwart the next wayward detritus.

At the base of the heart of every beagle resides two things; firm, steadfast, and consistent through the ages; love for all, and dedication to food.

The explosion of joy that was running for breakfast to be made. The running full tilt to the kitchen for breakfast. Getting up in the morning is the most wonderful moment of the day because FOOOOD!! comes after.  The running of the bulls has nothing on the bellowing, bucking, bouncing race of the beagle to the kitchen.

The way he will greet anyone and everyone with the same gentle charming curiosity..

The howling for attention when Charlie was stealing the show. For the small number of times that Charleston (his older, quieter, less assuming pitbull mixed brother) had one second of attention Jekyll would howl to remind you that he was still here."

The digging for grubs. This pup of mine was gifted with a nose more acutely intelligent than any morsel of carbon (past-present-or-future), kernel, or remnant could elude. I tell people that "in the event of a Zombie apocalypse you need only grab Jek. He can find food in the desert." (Although convincing him to share it is another thing). He used to wait at my feet for the morning kibble to clink to home to his bowl. If I dropped a kibble he was on it faster than you could bend or grab. He has stopped doing this.. I miss his obsessive food frenzy. (I now beg and bargain to get food in his gullet).

The afternoons with the sunshine on his face the the nose on full alert. He was a proud unsurpassed valiant sentinel. He loved everyone  he ever met, but you better have been invited to his house first.

The way he never misses a nap with his brother... Who always loved him more than he probably deserved. (Jek usually got his big brother into terrible situations and then abandoned him to catch the blame solo).

The racing through the fields, nose locked on the whisps of a scent left behind by a fellow fawn colored furry fieldfellow. He can track a molecule of aura like a gifted psychic. He is called. He cannot be dissuaded. And you cannot escape the millennia of hound genetics that built him.

The way he always understood, and hated, being the prodigy of a veterinarian. No other pup ever had to endure more intensive veterinary training, practicing, and care. The plight of a beagle is their compliance and docile demeanor. It is why beagles are the chosen breed for all of the testing and teaching done on dogs. I'm sorry Jek... I'll call it devoted care, you can call it biased training.

The fact that he will ALWAYS sneak on the couch when you are not looking.

The glass was always half full. We should all be so lucky to see the world through Beagle glasses. The world is his oyster, his grub-hub, his cornucopia of delectable delights.

The way you can take him anywhere,,,  and he makes himself at home.

Independent Brewery loves dogs! We love them too!

The way he worships and eeks affection from everyone. (That face is irresistible!)

The way I worship him.. (even though he probably doesn't love me as much as I love him too).

The wiggle dances on the bed. Nothing signifies true raw joy to be alive than his wiggle dance. Belly up, snorting face sniffs of exuberant glee, and an itch he cannot reach but doesn't give up on.

The utter deference to the cat who claimed him. He cannot walk. He cannot be. He is Jitterbugs bequeathed. I don't know why he never challenged that cat? But he never did. He never has. And there are days that I know he feels bad...really sick and painful bad... and still Jitterbug reminds him he has a cat to coddle.

The boy and the cat who claimed him.

All of those crazy ways he chooses to get himself comfortable.  He is usually side split sway footed. He is a goof and it is endearing.

The front seat of the pick up truck. He has this crazy way of sitting  half on your shoulder (if you are driving) and half on the seat. That way he can maintain balance and keep an eye on the road. He feels like a parrot on your shoulder and he is incorrigible.

The joy in how much he loves going for rides..

The shot gun of the Gator. It took a while to get him to ride in the Gator with us. Once he realized that the "Land of Abundant Opportunity" That Gator was his ride to the ends of the earth, the walls of his domain and the ticket to ride without having to over exert yourself. (He is a smart cunning cookie).

The perching the one leg and half butt cheek on your shoulder for stability and viewpoint, and how incredibly difficult it is to drive with a beagle perched on your shoulder and leaning on your head...

The low wag throwing himself at anyone else.

He has this way of greeting  his old friends. He lowers his ears, he drops his back and bends at the knee. It is a curtsy as much as it is an invitation to be reminded how wonderful he thinks you are. That face. This one act of true loving affection is the one single thing that reminds me how precious he is. How lucky we all are to know him. He is love and gratitude and he dishes it out to those he truly loves.

When he loves you he tells you...

The elephant memory of a snack he scored from years past.

The pawing for attention if he could get himself into the passenger seat. If he ever has to share a car seat he will remind you to use your time and proximity wisely. He will paw at your arm until you surrender the affection and land himself a belly rub, ear tickle, or soft pat of reassurance that he is still the center of the universe.

The snorting happiness,,, his way of expressing his own joy to no one but himself.
the sharp bark of alarm. He stands watch in repose. But, he is always on the job,,, even if it only looks like he is sleeping on his front porch couch.

We call it "the perch."
It is where he does his best work and works through all of the problems of the world.

The magnitude of his presence... maybe I am the only one who can feel it?.. but I know where he is even if I cannot see him or touch him.. I know if he is near, and I know if he isn't feeling well,,, lately, it feels as if it has been too much of the later.

The fishing anticipation. To everyone else who tried to go fishing at our pond I know he drove them nuts. The anticipation of a wiggly-jiggly-floppy fishy pops from the waters and slithers its way onto the bank. It is like Christmas! How else do you get delivery in the boonies?

All of these "little things" remind me how long our journey has been, how much we shared, how hard living with an obsessively independent, adventure driven boy intent on keeping the woods free of bunnies, deer and any other self indulgent bold soul is, and has been, and how much it will all be missed.

He is a companion to cuddle with as much as he is a force of nature to reckon with. He is, like all dogs we share our most quiet times, or most painful moments, and the tiny insignificant life defining moments that shape our concept of what our life means.

Walking out  of his fourth radiation treatment, smiling..

Every life is a collage of pieces and moments to remind us how lucky we all are to have our pets to share it with. Jekyll has been one of those lives I am beyond grateful to have known and loved. I will miss him when he isn't with us any longer to share his little things with. But, as with every part of this life I will get another beagle, invest my whole heart and soul into them, build a new set of memories and I'm sure see little pieces and flashbacks to this boy, his immense presence, and his utterly undeniable magic.

Until then, my friend, I am here for you until the end,,grubs, rubs, and all our "little things",,

More  on Jekyll here;

Jekyll Arrives

Jekyll Loses His Tail Mo-Jo. Tail Droop.

The Things Only A Mom Knows. Planning for our pets lives beyond our own.

A Tribute To A Beagle, Jekyll.

Slowing Down Without Giving Up.

Threats to Impending Death, and a Vet Moms Promise

To all of you who have a pet that you adore, or have lost a pet and left you feeling lonely, I empathize. It is impossible to say goodbye. Know that the day is coming when they won't be here. I want to say it's ok to grieve. To mourn, to not know where to go, or what to do. I feel it too.

Be who you are. The most precious and beautiful parts of everything are fleeting. Savor and celebrate them even if they hurt later. The hurt will fade and the joyful memories live forever. Protect your compassion with everything that you are for it is your most valuable asset. And, lastly, go love again. There is another soul out there who will love you back and help you go on...

If you have a pet story that you would like to share, or an experience with this condition please add it to our Storyline page at  Pawbly.com.

Please also follow me on Pawbly.com, our my vet clinic website Jarrettsville Vet, or our Jarrettsville Vet Facebook page. 

I am also on Twitter @FreePetAdvice, and YouTube. 

The Beauty and Failure In Seeking Quietude. Doing Good AND Doing Well.

It is time to slow down.

Truth be told, if I don't I will break. I am too tired to be any other way. Maybe it is midlife meets maybe too late?

I built a few key things on the way to tired, things I am immensely proud of and equally exhausted because of.

I built a veterinary empire (albeit rural and quaint) based on compassion. It is the key ingredient to my success in veterinary medicine. BUT, I also built a business centered on it as our core concept. Having such a strong emotional purpose makes daily life challenging. It also wears down your engine and psyche.

A letter came to me a few months ago inquiring about the recipe to our success for "doing good and doing well". We do both. I cannot see living, or even attempting to live this life, any other way. It was a wonderful opportunity to remind myself who we are as a vet hospital, what I am consciously creating, and how we can be profitable while doing "good" for our community. These two things, especially when you are a caregiver based profession, are intimately and vitally entwined. I cannot give up one for the other. I would rather walk away broke, then abandon the core of what we are and what we are here to do. I know others might argue this point. That we aren't expected, nor should we feel compelled to have to help everyone. But that is a shallow excuse to the start of a slippery slope on the way to blind and indifferent. Little steps can still lead you to the same destination.

I cannot imagine exiting this profession without a soulful of stories and a legacy to be proud of. It is the subject matter of every moment of my day. Trying, (sometimes failing), to live up to a persona of the character I carved long before I got the white coat and the accolades of graduation.

I get tired. Lately I am very tired of being sent the cases no one takes the time out of their day to try to manage. Lately we have had some happy endings for some very needy patients get some attention. It has caused a flurry of equally needy patients to find, or be sent, to us.

On a personal level this is hard to come to terms with in any sort of healthy, optimistic, peaceful fashion. It is difficult to understand how other clinics clients get sent (literally told to show up at our clinic) because they cannot, or will not, take care of them. How does this happen? Where does personal responsibility come in? I am not sure if it exists in many places any longer? I think it is the code of ethics that the private established practitioners once regaled as being expected and honored. If a client called you in a bind you made time. I know that when my families dog, cat, sheep, horse, whomever found themselves in a predicament we called our little small town vet. He always came to help. Weekends, night times, rain, shine, he was counted on and accountable. The humble roots of that mantra seem sorely lacking these days. Sure, there are lots of excuses, and lots of reasons, but an emergency and a patient in need are timeless. How does the whole integral commiserative collaborative community coexist if we don't help each other?

Where did the relationships go? Why are they no longer valid? Or valuable? Why, and when did neighbors start sending their patients elsewhere when they had the means to assist them?

I am human. I get tired. I get frustrated. I have to ask myself a lot of questions, and even face the ugly answers occassionally. But the most important part of my human-ness is still getting up to try, and never abandoning caring to someone else to manage.

I refuse to give up, pass the buck and turn my back on the people who need us. I damned sure don't send the cases that are sticky down the road to my colleagues. Maybe they snicker? Take pleasure in being selective? I honestly don't know? If you are a client of ours we take care of you. Through sunny puppy days as much as the dark days of dying.

This is why I am so tired.

The time under the guise of being compassionate comes at a cost. Maybe that's why it is so ubiquitously abandoned?

Taking time away to regroup, redistribute the wear and tear and remember what I can do and how I can continue to contribute to my little community is vital.

We do so much. I have to remind myself what we are doing and how we are giving back even on the days that wrench your gut and break your heart into shreds.

Here's a sampling of the requests we get. These are from this last week alone;

Situation Number 1;
The emails start at 9 pm on a Sunday night. They find me. (Desperate people in dire circumstances with a little bit of digging find me).

Help! Our 7m old pit, Tracy has eaten something foreign. X-ray shows it is stuck in small intestine. Tracy started showing symptoms of distress 2 days ago. We came back from vacation where he stayed with my mother in law on her farm. The morning after picking Tracy up, he began vomiting to the extent of a close 30x in a few short hours. What started as bile and mucus slowly turned into a color resembling blood. Tracy began to look pale and his attitude was that of a lethargic pained animal. All of the red flags promoted our first trip to the animal hospital. $1000 later he underwent blood work, fecal sample, urine test, and X-ray. All results were normal except for the X-ray which showed the foreign body. The vet told us it appeared that the object was trying to make its way out but could be lodged. Clinically Tracy appears to be near death. Doc says object could possibly be removed with an endoscope or surgery which would cost anywhere from 2k to 3k. Our family just cannot afford the bill, however we also cannot afford the heartbreak. In a short 7 months Tracy has become my child’s keeper, my boyfriends companion, and my best friend. I cannot live with myself knowing a fatal outcome could have been avoided if the money was right. I am asking in desperation for anyone who reads this to open their hearts to us and to Tracy in helping us give him the treatment he needs to survive and live out the life he deserves. I will be applying for care credit first thing in the morning but a recent home purchase along with other things tell me that a denial could be in my hand. Even with an approval we desperately need the financial help to pay it back. I am begging all of you to look at gods plan for Tracy and see that it is not his time to leave this world especially not like this. Thank you all for reading and God bless. 

I was denied care credit I copied that into the email from our gofundme where we were only able to raise $500. Delaware specialty wants 75% upfront and 25% at pick up. They won’t take donations from any organization that I have reached out to. I have 2 places willing to help. Krista it is an emergency tonight Tracy has a fever. I’m so concerned and idk what I’d do without him!

What do I do with this? Better yet, what would you?

Tracy

Situation Number 2;

Client shows up with a cat with an injury to its ear. It is not her cat, she does not want to pay for care. She expects we will take it and care for it, and be the person she is not. Uncomfortable, awkward conversation ensues that we cannot take the cat. She isn't ours to take. She isn't hers to give. And we are not the shelter designated for such pets. Further, while there is an injury a torn ear is left torn. Cat is scanned for microchip, none found, and we post her photo on our Facebook page to notify the owners (hopefully part of our large FB following) that she is headed to the shelter. There she will be vaccinated, treated and held for the owners to come (hopefully) claim her. Finders are always given the option to adopt them back if the owner does not come forward. She calls us later to explain "how disappointed she is with us." (Like that river don't run both ways). Side note: we have 8 clinic cats already. All were cats brought in to be euthanized for peeing the house, or just not wanted any longer. They remain all are looking for homes. Cat anyone? P.S. I will keep an eye on her at the shelter and make sure she is kept safe. I do this with all of the shelter animals. For those clients seeking help we are happy to help. 'Help' is a term that infers giving assistance. It has to be a mutually agreed upon proposition. There are, of course, also legal parameters to comply with, like; "Not your cat" is not your cat to abandon on someone else. Her cat got a free exam,, and she never showed up at the shelter.

Situation Number 3;
Dog fight dog limping, unable to use leg. Caller has "no money". They NEED to come up with the price of an examination ($50) if they are not a client to be seen. It is the only way we can insure some basic degree of responsibility to the care of these pets. If you cannot come up with the $50 we try to offer surrender to one of the shelters/rescues we work with. Know how many people "with no money" surrender? None. Why? Well, they would rather be "theirs" and neglected than rehomed and treated. The story of the Judgement of Solomon is referred to commonly in my head for these cases. We ask that people come to us willing to put their pets life before everything else. We will meet you there on how to proceed forward. I, we, everyone at Jarrettsville Vet has witnessed the power of making what seems like the impossible possible. But everyone gives and contributes. The dog from this week had been attacked by another dog (the other dog was not on a leash, theirs was). The victim had not seen a vet ever in their hands. Was not neutered, and was an injured pit bull. They couldn't come up with the $50 and they didn't have a way to get the dog to us if they could. These, these are the cases that drive me to,, well,, blog... lets leave it there. We stood firm on two points. They had to drive to us. They had to come up with $50.

At the moments that seem most bleak, take a breath. Have, find, and resurrect faith.

Jax showed up a day later, lucky. He was limping. He had a very swollen, painful and infected leg, and a few minor lacerations. He was gimping around on the other three legs, but eating, happy, and otherwise unscathed.

He needed three things I could give him;
1. Antibiotics
2. Pain medications, (NSAID)
3. A rabies vaccine.

Total bill incurred; the $50 they borrowed from family, and the $16 bucks I loaned them for the rabies. The rest of the meds were generics and donated/trial size.

His family also got a lecture.. most of it off the record.

• file a police report. Maybe the owner of the other dog will take responsibility? (prob not, but I divert back to the faith statement).
• start a Pet Savings Plan with us to get the vaccines updated and him neutered. An estimate and budget plan was also provided.
• I know you love this boy. He is a lovely dog, but he needs more than love. We will help but it takes both of us to make his life safe and healthy.

I hope they heard me. I did fall in love with that dog...

That's my problem. I invest myself for these animals.. It is who we are. It is also why I get tired,, too often. I'm looking for safe boundaries while trying to not lose faith in mankind.. The animals, well, I am still doggedly determined to save every single one of them.

Every week it is at least one phone call, one person who shows up, and a pet stuck in the middle. We, collectively, all of us, can do this. We can "do good while doing well". We can save the huge majority of pets who need help. Maybe not at "Gold Standard" but this is life and death. I rarely think death (our coined "economic euthanasia") is the best option.

More information on me, this blog, and who we are at Jarrettsville Vet can be found here:

Pawbly.com is about saving lives, and providing options with data. Let the data set the standard of care and integrity via transparency be the guide.

If you care about pets, believe in making happy endings happen, and want to help others please join me on our Jarrettsville Vet Facebook page, our Pawbly Facebook page,and also on Twitter and YouTube.

The Road of Radiation. Veterinary Radiation Therapy. My Jekyll's experience

It is Tuesday, the designated cancer day in our family.

Jekyll has retired from the chemo circuit. It has been a long run, and I have to say my little boy looks pretty darned good for the barrage of poisons we have forced into his athletic beagle body. If pets are a reflection of their owners, this boys determination and stamina have me set for almost anything life wants to toss at me. That boy wagged and winked through every round we gave him. Four doses of Gemzar, and before that three other drug trials to cover 9 rounds in total.

Today is round one of radiation therapy. Today is also the first day that I am tentative about the steps I am taking. I am not even sure why? It is my gut talking. The longer you live in vet medicine the more you listen to your gut. I don't know what's with this unsettling gnawing, but, this is more than new therapy jitters.

This is fear. Unadulterated, massively apprehensive fear.

This is our last shot. I suppose most of my guarding and clutching him today is about whether this will work. I have to leave him with strangers for this last step in the hope of beating the demons residing in his belly. The fear is also my not wanting to accept that there isn't a plan of attack after this.

Now I should clarify my current state;

The fear of medical care is universal. There isn't one person who hasn't been troubled with a medical decision about what to do, or, not do. If only we all had that crystal ball to tell us what was lying around the corner of every decision so we could pick a path to travel.

The access to radiation oncology therapy, now ubiquitous in the human healthcare circles, is still limited in the veterinary world. For us, stuck half way between Baltimore and Philadelphia there are three places to pick from. All are about 2 hours away, each with its Pandora's box of traffic snafus. You pick based on availability, ties to your oncologist, and (in my case) my total lack of scheduling flexibility.

I was here almost a decade ago with my last cancer dog: Ambrose. His radiation schedule was daily for three weeks. I was unable to bring him everyday so I hired a chauffeur to help make the schedule for him the reality he needed for his cancer. Ambrose's treatments cost us about $10,000 when all was as fate had it. He got about 6 months that I wouldn't have gotten without it. But even as he passed away from the cancer and the wear and tear that the surgeries, radiation and drugs delivered I was left with a feeling of unrest. I expected more time. I had been led to believe that was the price for the calendars prognosis. I went into radiation being told that his type of tumor had an 80% recovery rate with radiation. I mean who wouldn't take those odds? He was 10, I wanted two years. I placed him on his hospice care a few months later promising myself I wouldn't do radiation again.

And yet, a decade later,,,

Here we are. The desperate souls seeking to rewrite our own destiny. Jekyll is 8. He looks like a million bucks. He has an insidious cluster of cells that every human man would be told is 'treatable/manageable/curable' and yet I have to designate him as "terminal." (What a fucking awful blasphemous word.. Can't vet med give us some good decades left ahead too for the common place condition of every middle aged man)?

The two hour drive to the radiation center took us through highways, traffic jams, and interstate construction zones. Jekyll slept passenger seat shotgun. You put him in a car and he snoozes. He is so used to traveling that he prefers to save his energy for the destination and just recharges for the rides.

At our arrival to the little old (in need of serious remodeling as its 'quaintness' starts to overly patina), I was met by a disheveled anxious man. "Hello?" he said quietly and submissively. I was trying to clean Jek's butt after his scant confetti poop session in the parking lot. I looked up so hoping he wasn't talking to me, or about to chastise us for the shrapnel poo mess we were trying to clean. "Does your dog have cancer?"

"Yes," we are after all in the parking lot of the dog cancer radiation center.. and I do have a dog with me.

"Do you trust this place?" He was quiet, withdrawn, emotional, and empty handed.

"Yes." Oh god I didn't want to have this discussion this morning. And, here I was. Angel of unkempt hair in the otherwise empty parking lot, seconds before we could no longer make our clean get away. The fear mounts to struggling almost paralysis.

We clean up, replace his colon after it slipped it mark from aggressive straining to sit in the reception area,, and we wait. We wait, and wait. Second chance to run,, we are already an hour behind schedule.. fingers crossed, gut in floor. The saddest beagle eyes calling me to just stop being so stubbornly dogged. Jekyll is panting. He is anxious. He is afraid. I get it buddy, I do.

For everyone who loves their pet and can't live life without them the slope to terminal death is tragically looming in its inevitability. It is that part: the knowing, the watching, the scrutinizing and the fear of every bump, twist and turn in the road that eats you.

I sit with a lot of my clients who all grapple with the grief and  trauma of the inevitability that the end of life decisions bring. The more I participate in their journey's the more I question and renegotiate my own. I feel their pain. Their not understanding the options. The costs of those options and the incredible resiliency of the pets who elect to try the best medicine has to offer. I hope to write blogs about how well Jekyll has done so far. How he has not lost himself in the process of killing the parts of him that aren't welcomed nor wanted. Those little parts that are killing him.

I have a wonderfully gentle client who is a practitioner of alternative human health care. She is dealing with her own aggressive cancer and she also has two older, failing dogs. She isn't seeking traditional chemotherapy for herself, she also isn't electing it for her dogs.

She asked me recently, "Do you think he is sick because I am sick?" Inferring the transference of her illness to him because they are so connected to each other. I couldn't even answer her with anything reassuring or merciful. I was caught so off guard. I didn't want to discourage either of them from not enjoying every second they have left, but the medical hardness of the reality was that he was dying. I knew that. The suffering, the burden, the weight of the responsibility for her, who already needs optimism and focus, was daunting. In times like this all I can offer is to reduce the current place to the joy they have at this moment to still be alive.

I ask myself every single day how much I am willing to pay for this one single day?

I walked out of the radiation office without my Jekyll. He is going to die.. someday.. I am trying to come to terms with that. I am buying my reluctance to accepting this ending today with leaving him in someone else's hands. Trying to go down swinging. Giving his cancer the hell I want to banish it to. It is the price I am willing to pay to walk away without him one day.

I can walk away feeling like I am afraid for him, afraid for life without him, and even feeling a little bit of solace in the statement I tell too many clients. "I would rather have him die trying to save his life, then dying because I was paralyzed and let it be taken away by his cancer." Truth be told if I got that call, that one that says "Jekyll didn't make it through anesthesia, or radiation, or the procedure, etc." I would be ok with any of these. I might even be better with that ending. As the more likely scenario is that he will be put to his end at my hand. For every client who wishes that their pet "die peacefully in their sleep" so they didn't have to come to my office and make this last impossible decision, I only wish that it didn't have to be me. I don't know how I am going to do this. And I don't know how I can let anyone else do it? For me, the single greatest cross to bear is this act. This impossible goodbye all on me..

Monday April 23, 2018

Maybe the fear grows a coward? And the coward who wants the easy way out of goodbye. The goodbye while he is still happy, functional, and himself. Where is the mercy? How much do I let fear guide us?

Three more radiations to go. If this one goes ok. But all I can do is hope for today,, again.

Tuesday evening, day of radiation treatment number 1

More  on Jekyll here;

Jekyll Arrives

Jekyll Loses His Tail Mo-Jo. Tail Droop.

The Things Only A Mom Knows. Planning for our pets lives beyond our own.

A Tribute To A Beagle, Jekyll.

Slowing Down Without Giving Up.

How Do You Say Goodbye When You Can't Let Go?

P.S. It is Wednesday morning.. The day after his first round of radiation. He is doing very well. Better than I expected. He slept the night comfortably at my feet on the bed. Pee pad in place as he is now almost urinary incontinent, and ate breakfast with bravado. He is a trooper. He  is a beagle. He  isn't checking out yet, it isn't rabbit census season, yet.

Weds 25 April 2018

If you have a pet story that you would like to share, or an experience with this condition please add it to our Storyline page at  Pawbly.com.

Please also follow me on Pawbly.com, our my vet clinic website Jarrettsville Vet, or our Jarrettsville Vet Facebook page. 

I am also on Twitter @FreePetAdvice, and YouTube.