Scully, my rock for the last 12 years, died this morning. She had been acting strange since Weds, and I took her for an emergency vet visit, but they couldn't find anything and said to just keep an eye on her and gave me some medicine. She was back to mostly normal yesterday, and I was thinking maybe at her age the weather changes were bothering her like they do me. She was acting strange again this morning, and breathing so heavy I could hear her in the master bedroom from the living room. She refused a piece of turkey with her meds. I put her collar and leash on to take her to the vet, and with great effort she got up on her front legs. When she tried to lift her hindquarters up, she fell over, and I pretty much lost it. I carried her to the car, and drove to the vet. They found a tumor on her spleen and signs that it had ruptured. The decision was made to end her suffering. Scully got me through the two roughest events of my life, and now she is gone for the third. I miss her so much. She was a funny energetic dog that people still mistook for a puppy on walks, and she was also very sweet. This has been one of the worst days of my life. She was so energetic that I expected her to be around for several more years. I rescued her as a puppy shortly after moving out on my own, and she has been there for my entire adult life, through the good times and bad. I keep thinking I hear her moving in another room in the house and I have to remind myself that she is gone. When ever I'm upset, I would call her and pet her for a bit, and it would calm me back down. I keep almost calling her to come help me feel better, which just makes it worse. Don't really know where to end this. I posted this on FB earlier and wanted to let my friends know that aren't on there.
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My dog died this morning.
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My first dog was a black lab my parents got me when I was in 5th grade, slept either at the foot of my bed or on my bed every night until I moved out. My Dad called me one Saturday morning to say they found him laying on the kitchen floor and he couldn't get up. I immediately drove over to their house and we took him to the vet, the vet sent us to an emergency clinic. Turned out he had a tumor on his heart and I could either put him down, or wait it out. When I walked into the room he was in they had him strapped to a gurney and when he saw me he tried to raise his head and wag his tail but was too weak, that there broke my heart. Sorry for your loss.Originally posted by MR EDDi know i am are a fucking idiot.i know i should have pulled out of my mommas ass to make a shit fuck like me.bitch
I don't believe in shotting any animal past 150 or 200 yards, until their is better technology in 10 or 20 years and we have laser like the predators.
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Katrina showed me your post on facebook earlier. Sorry to hear Eric.
It's never easy having to put down a friend like that. Had to put down my Chow mix we had had for nearly 16 years just a few days after my birthday a few years back...then had to go in to work. That was rough. I didn't want to have any more dogs after that and now we've got two...annoying little cute little bastards.--Marcus
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