Rest In Peace, Lucy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Lucy"  Aug 2003-July 2011

I went to the vet's office to pick Lucy up today.  I learned that her blood sugar was not yet regulated, and I was going to have to bring her back on Monday to continue insulin dosing and glucose checks.  The vet said her heart worm test came back positive, but she's currently too frail from her diabetes to even think about beginning treatment.  On top of that, the vet strongly recommended getting her spayed in order to prevent uterine or ovarian cancer, something older dogs are prone to.

Bottom line, we were looking at a whole lot more expense than we'd originally planned on.  It was time to seriously evaluate the situation.

After some soul searching, we felt it was best to let her be put to sleep.  Lucy's already considered a senior dog, and with the diabetes, cataracts, heart worm, and the need for surgery, it was just going to be too much for her to go through.  I didn't realize I'd be tearing up at the vet's office.  I was just thankful our neighbor was watching the kids for me instead of having them be there with me, when that call had to be made.  I don't think I could handle the kids being upset at the same time as me.

So, I decided it would be best not to bring her back home.  They will euthanize and bury her.  I know it's in her best interest, but at the same time, it leaves a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Lucy was, after all, my first dog.

And so it goes.  Lucy had a good life, and she was a mild-tempered, lovable, and affectionate dog.  I sure am going to miss her and the games she and I used to play.

Rest in peace, little lady.  We love you.  xoxoxox

Lucy Goes to the Vet

Our dog Lucy had an appointment at the vet's office today.  She's been having trouble seeing lately and losing weight over the past few months, so I decided we needed to get things checked out.

It's a good thing we did, too--turns out Lucy is diabetic!  The vet said that's what caused the weight loss, the sores on her ears that just wouldn't heal, and the rapid onset of cataracts in both of her eyes.  Poor girl!

But I'm glad to have a diagnosis.  At least we know what the problem is and how to fix it.  Lucy's spending a couple of nights at the animal hospital for glucose checks and an insulin workup.  It looks like I'm going to be giving her insulin shots from now on in addition to giving her some special food designed specifically for diabetic dogs like Lucy.  It's been a long time since I gave shots to a dog, but I have a feeling I'm going to be pretty good at it before too long!

Lucy's an awesome little girl though.  We got her about 2 months after we got married, so she'll be turning 8 years old next month.  (I guess that would make her roughly 56 years old in people years, right?)  We got her from my sister-in-law out in east Tennessee.  She was hiding under the front steps with her brother and a couple of other puppies.

She was so tiny, we bought her the smallest cat collar we could find and still had to make a couple of holes of our own because it was still too big!  Here's a picture of her at our old apartment shortly after we got her.  We're not really sure what kind of a mix she has in her, but we're pretty sure she has some chow in her blood.  She's got that classic purple tongue.

Lucy was followed a few months later by Ricky (yes, once upon a time, I used to be a big "I Love Lucy" fan).  Ricky, also from east Tennessee but from a different family member, is a boxer-beagle mix of some kind.  Even though they've lived together ever since, they seldom get along. 

Ricky and Lucy shortly after Ricky joined the family

Ricky came in thinking he was the alpha dog, but Lucy promptly knocked that out of his little head.  LOL!  Needless to say, he didn't like that one bit!  But they seem to tolerate each other now, kind of like an old married couple who just can't be bothered to get divorced.

With Lucy having trouble with her sight lately though, Ricky's been taking advantage of her handicap, and he thinks he's the top dog now.

Peek-a-boo!

Even though Lucy's going to be on these meds for the rest of her life though, I'm glad it wasn't to the point where we couldn't do much more than have her put down.  Hubby and I talked about that, and we were in agreement that it wasn't fair to make her suffer, if there wasn't going to be any way to improve her quality of life.  I'm just thankful it didn't come to that, and she's going to be ok.  It's also a good thing that I didn't have to have that difficult conversation with the kids to explain why we had to have one of their dogs put to sleep.

With any lucky, our little Lucy is going to be around for a number of years to come.  :)

GO...TO...BED!!!!!!!

I gotta vent.  It's after 9 p.m.  I've been trying to get these two precious little children of mine to go to sleep since 8 p.m. and I'm about worn out.  Neither one of them has any interest in calling it a night, but I, on the other hand, have a gazillion things that need to be done.  The two things I've been putting off all week that I need to do is fold laundry and wash dishes, neither of which looks like they're going to get done tonight.

This is the third night in a row that Gabe's done this to me (Zeke spent the last 2 nights at my parents' house), and because he's only 2 and doesn't necessarily know any better (although sometimes I think the "pee potty" excuse is just that--an excuse), it's bloody frustrating having to listen to these two go on and on.

"Night, night!  Bed time!  No more talking, whispering, or making noises of any kind," I say.

Ten seconds later, I can hear whispering as Zeke's talking to himself, telling some kind of story or whatnot.

"Really?  Do you REALLY think I can't hear that?  I'm sitting in this rocker right next to your bed, and you REALLY think I can't the words coming out of your mouth??"

I feel insulted.

Get this...I'm sitting in the living room typing this, and I can hear Gabe from the bedroom telling Zeke, "No talking!"  And what does Zeke do?  He imitates Gabe, which only exacerbates the situation and makes Gabe mad.  Yes, this is happening at this very moment while I type all this.

Hold on...it's gone quiet in there.  I'm not sure if they've finally worn their little selves out or what.  Nope, now Zeke's calling and telling me, "Momma, I really don't think I can go to sleep!"  And Gabe's yelling, "Momma, Zekie bump-a on-a head!"  (That means, "Zeke bumped me on the head" in Gabe-speak.)  "I did not!" yells Zeke.

Ok, I freakin' give up.  No wonder I don't feel like doing housework at night!

Ah wait...quiet again.  You know, I really think this time they might be down for the count.  It's been about a whole minute, and not a peep.  *happy dance*  And it's only 9:30 p.m. now.  I'm really tempted just to say screw it all and go to bed myself.  If I do that right now, I'd actually get 7 full hours of sleep.  BLISS!!

I was trying to explain to Zeke how they're going to have a hard time getting up in the morning, if they don't go to bed on time.  Bless him, but he has no earthly idea why 8-1/2 hours of sleep just isn't enough for youngsters like them, although for you and I, that would be extremely refreshing.  Right now, I have to make do on the 4-1/2 to 5-1/2 hours I get on a nightly basis.  Some of that's my own fault...I need my "winding down" time in the evenings before I turn in for the night, and that can be anything from vegging in front of the TV to something I've recorded on my wonderful DVR, to vegging at my laptop with one or more mind-numbing games that I play on Facebook.  Or both!

Well, it's been a full 5 minutes now that things have been quiet, so I'm going to give it a couple more minutes and go in there to check on them.  Now that Gabe's in a toddler bed as opposed to a crib, it's that much harder getting him to stay put, when all he wants to do is head over to Zeke's bed because he can bounce higher while he's jumping.  Go figure.

I think I'm done venting now.  'Night, all!

Happy 4th!! (And 5th!!)

Happy birthday, America!  And while I'm still a citizen of the old country (i.e. Britain), I've almost spent half my life here and can safely say I do appreciate the holiday for what it is and what it represents.

That being said, let me give a quick shout out to our men and women in uniform who serve this nation, and to their family members who have to sacrifice so much for everyone who lives here.  (And if you can truly say you have no appreciation for the military, then why don't you exercise your constitutional right and up and leave, alright?!)

Well, this particular holiday is near and dear to my heart because Hubby and I have our wedding anniversary on the 5th, so the two usually go hand-in-hand for us.  This year we kept things fairly low key and had a cookout with my folks, followed by fireworks.  We had originally thought about going to Crocker Park in Brentwood for their fireworks display, which is where my parents sometimes go, but since it was going to be so late at night for the kids by the time we'd make it back home, we thought against it.

We did have one little surprise in the evening, however.  Since the boys were playing with some of the kids in the neighborhood, Gabe decided he was big enough to join in.  That was fine until he took a little tumble...

...and came face-to-face with the pavement.  Guess who won?  No, his eye's not swollen shut.  He's just grinning at the camera here, but it is a bit swollen from the bump and scrape.  He's a real trooper though, cried for a minute or two and was pitiful for a while there.  But then he was back up and running around again in no time.

The child knows no fear.  I'm starting to wonder if that's such a good thing.  :-\

Anyway, today was our anniversary, and when I talked to the Hubs on the phone tonight, I learned two rather irritating things.  Firstly, it turns out his supervisor wasn't even expecting him on the job site today, so there was no need to be up and out on the road at 3:30 a.m.  Secondly, while on his way to the job site where he wasn't needed, the Hubs scored a speeding ticket with Indiana's finest boys in blue.  UGH!  Really?  A speeding ticket??  TODAY?!?!  It'll be 2 weeks before he knows anything about a court date or even how much his fine would be.  And the sad part is he didn't even need to be there.

*Sigh!*  So, happy anniversary, huh?  Oh well.  I guess it could have been worse, right?