<html><head><style type='text/css'>p { margin: 0; }</style></head><body><div style='font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 12pt; color: #000000'><P><BR>Hello all,</P>
<P>I have been very touched by the stories of having to put beloved bassets down this week. I have not been able to write about my precious Molly Mae that went to the bridge on August 21, 2008, because it has been too upsetting until now. All the stories have made me want to write about her, because I see so many of you do understand how difficult it is.</P>
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<P>I had always thought Molly would break some kind of age record and live to 16 or 18. She was vibrant...so full of life from the time I brought her home. She was a princess in every sense of the word. She thought the whole world existed for her. She wasn't a very nice girl sometimes to The Stink, her sister. She constantly had to reinforce her role as alpha, although it was completely unnecessary. The Stink tolerated her antics with patience and grace, and I was surprised that when Molly Mae passed, The Stink didn't seem to miss her at all. I guess she didn't miss all the bossing around. The Stink has been only to happy to be an only child which surprised me a great deal.</P>
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<P>Molly always had the best vet care and as the girls aged, we began to run the senior blood panel to look for early signs of kidney or liver failure, etc. Molly passed these tests with flying colors. The vet had told me she had a slight heart murmur, but that it was nothing to worry too much about. I didn't worry because I witnessed Molly doing the Basset 500 daily and valiantly defending her front door from the mailman with gusto. I was confident that she was going to be with me for a long time. In her 11th year, she had a couple days that she didn't want to eat. She had always had a finicky stomach, so I called the vet, and he said to keep her off food for a couple of days. In a couple of days, she was back to her old self relishing her kibble like normal. They were also a couple days that she seemed unusually tired and stayed in her bed alot. I didn't think too much about this. After all, she was a senior now. Most of the time though, she was active, and we would go on wonderful, long walks around the neighborhood and to the park with her dragging me along in tow.</P>
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<P>The week of August 21, 2008 she had a couple days that she didn't want to eat again. She seemed kind of tired and listless also. Still she bounced back later in the week and seemed normal. I went out the evening of August 21st and returned home about 11:00 pm. When I entered the house, I saw two or three piles of vomit on the floor. Then I looked over and saw Molly lying on the floor unable to get up. I immediately called the emergency clinic and took her in. The entire time I was thinking there was something wrong with her stomach and that I would be bringing her home later that night. When we got to the clinic, they said she was a very sick girl when they looked at her gums. They were very pale and she felt cold. They had planned to do blood tests, but after they did an Xray of her chest that proved unnecessary. When the vet shared her chest Xray with me, my heart broke. Molly's heart was this huge round ball...terribly enlarged. You could barely see the lungs in the Xray. At this point she was having difficulty breathing. He said there was nothing that could be done. They brought in a big plaid blanket and laid her on it. Then they left the room, so we could be alone. She immediately defecated on the table. I don't think she even knew I was there. Her eyes were glazed over and she started to struggle for breath. I kissed her, told her I loved her, and ran to the door and yelled, "She is ready right now." They came in, administered the shot and she went down oh, so quickly. That of course was wonderful, because I couldn't bear to see her struggling to get a breath. However, I couldn't believe that she was gone just like that. I virtually had no warning except those few days she didn't want to eat. Her little heart just gave out. Now I am bawling just reliving it again.</P>
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<P>So, thanks for the sharing your stories. We hurt together across the miles. It still hurts just as bad today as it did last year. I always wish I could rub her velvety ears just one more time. It was good in a way that I didn't have to wonder if I did the right thing. There was absolutely no choice, and I felt good that I could end her suffering that was obviously very intense. With my Corgi, I had to try and decide how much quality of life he had after his stroke. That was difficult, but it is also difficult to have them snatched away with little or no warning. She was only 11 years old, and I wasn't ready. I would have never been ready though, that's for sure.</P>
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<P>Thanks for listening,</P>
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<P>Carla K. and The Stink, the only basset child</P>
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<P>P.S. I included a picture of her on her couch throne. Notice she didn't allow The Stink to share it.</P></div></body></html>