[Dailydrool] Pippi-long

[Deb Good]

As most of you know by now one week ago today I sent Pippi to the Rainbow Bridge.  She stopped eating.  I couldn't get anything into her.  By last Wednesday she was drinking almost non-stop and shivering, and peeing non-stop.  Wednesday night she threw up.  Something reddish-orange.  I couldn't imagine what it was since she hadn't eaten in days-not even treats.  Thursday morning she was so weak she couldn't get into her favorite chair and yelped when I tried to help her.  I took her into the vet where they discovered she was bleeding internally.  Her platelet count was dangerously low.  She was dying and if she survived the enormously expensive blood transfusion (and that was a very big "if"), she had issues with her liver and kidneys.  I had daycare kids with me, John was at work and my own kids were at school.  The vet kept her comfortable until John and the kids got home and I told them what was going on.  We opted not to perform any heroic efforts
 and just send her to the bridge before she endured any more suffering.  John, who never wanted a dog, who I never saw cry in the 18 years I've known him, bawled like a baby.  That was hard to watch.  He kept saying that this was why he never wanted a dog.  He couldn't even go to the vet with me to be with her for her last few moments on earth.  My son went.  Who would have ever thought that when it came to the dog(s) it would be me that was the strong one?  When they brought her into to us she was wearing a pink bandage on her right front leg.  I'm sure it was because she bled like crazy when they drew her blood earlier in the day.  I'm sure she hated that.  She never liked her feet being touched and she wasn't very "girly" so pink wasn't her color.  For the last year and half Pip had been sick off and on with various stomach ailments, allergies, recurring UTI's, a hystiocytoma, her fur was dry...  Maybe this was going on all along and we were just
 treating the symptoms.  I remember taking her to the former vet we used when she just 12 weeks old and questioning why she was so sleepy all the time.  He just said, "Yeah, these guys are like that"  And I accepted that.  She was my first Basset and I didn't know any differently.  I think she wasn't really totally healthy for her whole short 6 years on this earth.  I thought I was getting her from a good place, but I know better now.  I should have researched her "breeder" (and I use that term loosely).  As much as it hurts not to have her at my feet as I type this, every ounce of heartache I feel was worth all the joy she brought us for the last 6 years.  She attended 2 picnics in Gettysburg-the first one was where we met Fey and Dawn in the middle of the pouring rain at some unGodly hour of the morning.  My kids are in love with history now because of those trips.  She boardwaddled, and Michigan waddled, and WOW waddled (we visited Niagra Falls on
 that trip).  She attended 6 Slobberfests where she won first place in the Happiest Tail contest and second just this past July in the Basset recall.  Even though she loved to travel I think she was happiest here at home with us, sitting in her chair looking out the big picture window.  I used to say that she was surveying her kingdom.  That is where her ashes will be placed when they are returned to us.  She tolerated Sean, and hated the cat.  We loved each other the second we laid eyes on each other.  Pizza bones were her favorite food.  She was skittish around most men, but loved John and my Dad.  She was a member of the OEBE.  Without her, I would never have found the Drool, and Basset Rescue, and Sean's breeder (who I now consider one of my dearest friends), and hence never found my little Sean.  He misses her.  He refuses to drink out of the water bowl they shared.  She brought me lots of friends thru the Drool, some I've met, some I haven't.  She
 taught me a lot.  No matter how bad something is-wag your tail.  Always make 'em laugh.  Love 'til it hurts.  And most importantly, cherish every second.  I hope I was able to teach her some things too.  I hope the soft places to sleep and the full food bowl, and the warmth in winter, and airconditioning in summer and endless hugs and kisses and bellyrubs were enough that she knew how much we loved her.  When we are all ready, I know she will send us another little girl to love.  And whoever that is, she will have mighty big pawprints to fill.  As my husband said to his mom, "That dog had more personality than most people!"  For now we're holding on tight to Sean.

Two days after Pip left for the bridge Sean's breeder sent her beloved Eve to the bridge with Bloat (Eve was almost 13).  That same night John's sister had a fire in her home and she and the kids escaped with the clothes on their backs.  The next day my parents called to say that their Old English Sheepdog, Abby was at the Bridge with Pippi.  She began to pant uncontrollably on Sunday afternoon and x-rays at the emergency clinic showed lots of spots on her lungs-probably an embolism.  There was nothing they could do.  Abby and Pippi had the same birthday: July 22, 2002 and left us almost exactly 72 hours to the minute apart.  They were friends.  Needless to say, it's been a bad week so my apologies for not writing in sooner.  If you've written to me privately and I haven't gotten back to you, it's not because I don't appreciate it, I just can't read too many e-mails at once right now.  I will get back to you. If you can spare it, we could use some
 heartache healing drool here in Pittsburgh.  And maybe close the gates at the Bridge for awhile!

Deb