About 13 years ago, my firstborn came into the family. Nope, not a human child … but, a little itty bitty Rat Terrier puppy! Teeny was born on March 30, 1994 and we bought her ($75!) and brought her to our home. She was so tiny, she fit in the palm of my hand. Her favorite buddy was a cow slipper, which she slept with and drug around the house until she went into season the first time … and when that happened, she started doing unnatural things to my poor slipper so I had to get rid of it. Well, really, they were probably “natural” things to HER but it’s just not right to have to watch your dog doing those things to a fuzzy cow slipper!
Over the years, Teeny has become way more of my dog than anyone elses. Unless you have a tasty treat for her … and then she’ll like you for, oh, 5 seconds. Long enough to inhale the treat and move on.
When she was about six, we noticed a lump forming behind her front leg. The vet we took her to had no clue what it was as she said she’d never seen something like that in such a place. They operated. It turned out to be a fat cyst, but it was between the layers of skin instead of where vets usually find them. Two years later, the cyst grew back and we had it removed again. Then a year later it was bad enough that it was surgically removed one more time.
But, that was the last time. They “forgot” to take care of her teeth at the last surgery so they put her under a second time. WAY too dangerous for little dogs. She lived through it, spent a whole lot more time recouperating than previously and I vowed not to make her endure that ever again.
So, forward a few years. Her cyst is back and huge. It’s starting to squeeze her lungs and heart. They had told me she’d eventually just suffocate from it.
My dh took her to a new vet today, since we’re 1500 miles from her old vet! This vet said she’d never have operated on it the first time … it was in too precarious of a place … and they always grow back, faster and bigger than before. It’s very sad, to know that there’s not much we can do about it. But, she’s now a crotchety old dog, barely any teeth left in her mouth (ate too many mice in her life) and she doesn’t like anyone but me. She ignores the kids and barks at our other dog, Phydeaux.
Here she is, sleeping on a shirt-coat that I snagged from my MIL. As long as she has something of MINE to sleep on, she’ll lay down just about anywhere!
I hope to have her around just a little bit longer … but, I can’t help but think about JD’s Dawg. She was 10 when she was diagnosed with heartworm, when he was getting his Ph.D. in Missouri. She lived long enough for us to get married and move back to Texas. We got settled and she felt her job for him was done.
I’m thinking my Teeny-dog will be the same. We’ll get our house, get all moved in, and then she’ll feel her job for me is done. I don’t want to think about it, but it’s a fact of doggie-life. No worries, she can share a rock garden with Dawg, who is buried right here on the homeplace.