A DISABLED PET IS SO SPECIAL...IF YOU CAN ATTEND THIS EVENT, PLEASE DO

http://campaign.r20.constantcontact.com/render?llr=4ve9oddab&v=001B7Ca3ME3LkLlWte6H5zTh4iu-KmzG39mpi0WpHSjysZpcSdswl-El2uTk893cKhLHKAe1SrqP3P7VskdfI5l1TtIJpch0pMYofn9flfZcYU6wga4AGRJOA%3D%3D

I do this for dear Granny Annie - an old, ugly Boston terrier with whom I was blessed for a year and a half.

I'll never forget her. 

She was a special little angel...heaven sent, indeed.

TODAY WAS THE DAY WE SAID GOODBYE TO GRANNY ANNIE

A sweet old lady, known to many as an elderly poster girl for adopting old dogs with disabilities.

Last night we had her last stroller walk and a man in the neighborhood stopped and told me she must have been "the spoiltest dog in the world". She may have had cancer - tumors were erupting all over; she probably had congestive heart failure. But the coughing was unstoppable and was so bad, it would weaken that one front leg and she would sink to the ground and cough some more.

So it was time.

She was sent to the Rainbow Bridge on a sweetly scented spring morning with wisteria and swamp honeysuckle wafting through the trees in the yard, rolled down to my van.

Granny took her injuries, which looked like propeller scars on a manatee's back, and her amputation in complete stride and grace. I cannot imagine how much someone must have loved her to nurse her through her trauma. But a year and seven months ago, she had been confiscated by Bay County Animal Control in terrible condition, and when I saw her I couldn't let her go. Granny Annie had a wonderful life here, and special cushions she loved, scattered on the floor.

So now she is waiting with the others at the Rainbow Bridge.

Good girl, Annie. There's a big void in the house today, but you're home where you belong, with friends you didn't know. You were much adored and will be terribly missed for a long, long time.

I want to thank Wayne Pacelle and Julie Falconer at HSUS for their interest in Granny who appeared with her story in the magazine last year.

I hope that when the time comes to open your heart to another pet, you will consider the older animal, who may not stun you with its beauty, who carry with them a tale of suffering, whether it is physical or emotional, but who will bless your life with love and life lessons like nothing else can. Just like Granny Annie. I couldn't wish you more.

Getting ready to say goodbye to an old, sweet friend, and an article on heartworm for the dog owner

Granny Annie, my obese Boston terrier, who is very, very elderly now, has a cough which has progressively gotten worse and last night I was up with her. Granny, as you followers know, was found at the local high kill animal control and had her five minutes of fame as her story and her photo were sent around the world in Wayne Pacelle's HSUS blog and magazine.

She tested heartworm free, and is regularly given her prevention. But I believe it is congestive heart failure because of her extreme weight. Although she still will seek me out and remind me in no uncertain terms that it is a nice evening and time for her stroller ride, I have made the awful decision to play God and have her euthanized. Maybe as soon as tomorrow.

That will be a sad day for all who know her. She has been an absolute blessing to me. I may not be online tomorrow afternoon. The grave I dug for her the week after I got her is still there in the garden. I thought she was dying then of pneumonia and it turned out to be an upper respiratory infection. Still, I knew her time was short.

I implore you to consider adopting the older dog, especially if you are a senior citizen like me. They are very special, and the rewards are inestimable. They need YOU. And you will find in a few minutes after holding "the right one", you need that dog, too.

I am not looking forward to this, but if she is not asleep, she is coughing. I have no idea how old she is, but the time for mercy has come. And if I love her, that is my responsibility. Her three legs have difficulty holding her up now and she tires after a few steps.

So I will give you this link, because I've had to treat a dog with heartworm before - old, sweet Basset, Ruthie. She was a stray who was roaming the neighborhood. The treatment was very hard on her. And I've seen how heartworm debilitates a dog first hand.

http://www.houstonsheltiesanctuary.com/HSS_Heartworm_Site.htm

Granny Annie, my old 3-legged Boston has apparently touched a lot of hearts.

She made Wayne Pacelle's HSUS blog again, in praise of adopting the older companion.

http://hsus.typepad.com/wayne/

Granny Annie's on Wayne Pacelle's HSUS blog today!

Wayne Pacelle: A Humane Nation | The Humane Society of the United States

Gray, with a Silver Lining

Posted: 23 Dec 2008 11:02 AM CST

I celebrate the people who go to shelters or rescue groups to adopt any homeless dog or cat. It's an act of love and kindness. But I have a special place in my heart for people who adopt senior pets. These dogs or cats may have a few flecks of gray, and may not be as frisky or fetching or as big-eyed as puppies or kittens, but they love us just the same and perhaps they need us even more. They may not stay with us as long, but that only means we need to pack a lifetime of love and affection into fewer years.

Some weeks ago, the following story came into the blog and it's a great reminder to us all during the holiday season of the special creatures who need our help. I hope you find inspiration in this tale that May Lattanzio, a freelance writer, poet and photographer, tells.

Off and on throughout my life, I have worked as a volunteer wildlife rehabilitator and placement volunteer for the local humane society and in private. I put up a blog and decided to help the county shelter which is high-kill, but rescue friendly, in Bay County, Fla., by putting a rotating widget in the sidebar of adoptable dogs.

Then I saw the nameless Boston with three legs who was supposedly five years old (approximately). Her owner was incarcerated, and she was given to someone else who neglected or mistreated her so much, she was confiscated.

And there she was. Much older than five. Maybe 500. She was scarred on her flanks. Her forehead looks like it was cleaved at one time. She trailed a long cyst sack that swung when she walked. It was heavy. She is missing a front leg. She hobbles; has lumps, bumps and warts all over. She is gray-faced.

Maybe someone would want a special needs dog. I took her home to foster. Granny Annie is no beauty. All dogs are beautiful physically, but poor Annie isn't. But inside that scarred interior lives a shining, golden heart and endless sweetness of character. I was planning to foster her so that she would not be euthanized. Who would want her?

It turned out that I did. To a house full of dogs and cats, she fit right in. If your heart is set on a dog, please adopt one, and don't forget the older ones who aren't pretty anymore; or the black ones who are seldom adopted because of their color. If they have special needs, they have lessons to teach you; like courage, inner strength, patience, gratitude and above all, love.

This is a memorial page for...

the millions of euthanized animals that die in animal control and humane society shelters every day. Be prepared to be moved.

http://www.animalsinourhearts.com/shelter/memory1.htm

Granny Annie, my newest adoptee was sure to be one of these. She is old (see her entry of a month ago), not pretty or even vaguely attractive, and is missing a front leg. She is scarred. Her sweet face must have been broken between the eyes. But she is a wonderful old girl and will have a full belly, a soft place to sleep and a happy heart for as long as she lives.

Our faltering economy, job and home losses are filling up these facilities. Please open your heart and your home and adopt a shelter dog or cat. They really need you now.

PS: Granny Annie's story will be seen shortly on the HSUS blog, and possibly Wayne Pacelle's blog. I'll keep you posted.

Today I dug a grave...

Today was...awful.

Granny Annie, the old Boston with three legs I rescued a week ago today, woke up hot to the touch, with her nose covered with foam. She was having difficulty breathing. Outside she would take a few steps and lie down to rest. Since her adoption, she's had diarrhea but strangely, not today. Tomorrow she was scheduled to see Dr. Lowe, the family vet. Semi-retired, he still practices with the new owner, Jeromy Gillespie at the same location. I started calling before the office opened, leaving messages.

I could not let her suffer.

Then I ran out to town for jury selection, only to find out that the trials had been canceled.

Picked up a few things at the grocery, and when I came home, she laid under my desk and I could hear her wheezing. I'm thinking congestive heart failure. She's drowning in her own fluid and that's why she's bubbling.

Took her out - she was coughing little dry coughs and gagging.

Oh God - not parvo!

No fever. A little snotty, but mostly froth was running from her nose.

I finally was able to dig a grave. Digging a grave in this yard is very difficult with the tree roots.

We had managed to get an appointment with Dr. Gillespie at 2:40 and we went back into town.
I put her on a towel, thinking I could wrap her in it - it would be her shroud. She was coming home, after all.

This was the only way to honor her; the poor, homely waif who at her age did not deserve to be left to die because of her needs in an animal control facility. I would have her euthanized while I
held her in my arms.

The vet tech looked at her and asked me if I was sure. To tell you the truth, I wasn't this time.

I can't count the number of dogs and cats that have embellished their brilliance on my life.
I didn't want her to struggle. To suffocate during the night.

The young vet came in - the first time we'd met - and looked her over. "Why are you doing this?
She has an upper respiratory infection, she's not as old as you think (he says eightish), and those aren't cancers". (I was prepared for mast cell tumors.)

So I came home with wormers (she has a huge load of tapeworms), and directions to give her amoxycillin and Robitussin DM. That's it! A huge relief.

Tomorrow I fill in the grave. Or maybe I should just plant a butterfly bush if I can find one.

A friend gave me some venison - I hid her antibiotic in a piece, and she didn't balk about taking the cough medicine.

She wagged her tail at everyone, including the vet. And you would think that a vet holds some
bad memories, but Granny doesn't seem to hold grudges, and besides, she loves riding in the front seat, looking out.

I'm bushed.