Major Dad Knows I Do the Best I Can
The 152 year old Labradork is a difficult proposition. Poor MacDaddy ~ 11 1/2 people years, congestive heart failure, old man skin, 6 hairs left on his body and Cushings syndrome ~ subjected to the ultimate indignity. His skin is now so fragile that he’s rubbed a raw spot on his jelly belly. We’ve gotten it coated for the past few days with spray-on bandage and it’s started to heal. Ergo, started to itch, so he’s started to lick, which started to tear it up again ~ the whole Rube Goldberg thing. So I cleaned him up, sprayed the liquid bandage/made sure it was dry one last time…then slapped an ultra-thin maxi pad on the sore and yanked a pair of what looks to be a pair of black puppy SpeeDos up over it (to hold it in place and protect him from himself). But they’re not SpeeDos. I lied to him. It’s a pair of girly puppy underdrawers designed for when they’re in heat.
Poor Schmacks. An Always Thin Ultra Maxi Pad and a pair of ‘Bitches Britches‘. 
Don’t worry, Houndie.
We’ll all be there someday.
Life | Mr. Bingley | 
August 25, 2005 1:43 pm
Subscribe
Bitches Britches. Oh thank you THS. That was a sorely needed laugh today.
But I should add that I feel sympathy for your puppy. Still, Bitches Britches.
You’re welcome, Cullen. {8^P We thank you. Mac thanks you.
We almost didn’t buy them for him, even though they were desperately needed. Because of the name.
At least they’re black, so other dogs will have a harder time noticing before they point and laugh…
Oh, the poor pooch. I guess Doggy Diaper™ was already taken?
Yes Diptera, there are Doggie Depends, but the clever devil can slip out of them like nobody’s business. So we needed a ‘suck-your-gut-in-pantyhose’ (as Cruella and I call them) effect. These are so elastic, when I first saw the 75-100 lb rating on them, I said no way are they going to fit. They do. Poor Schmacks.
I hope his tummy heals up soon. What a sweet boy he is.
THS, I love that you are so devoted to him. My heart goes out to you all.
Aw Ken, it’s that he’s so devoted to us. We’ve decided that, regardless of whatever else is wrong with him, as long as he can almost get up on his own, does a circle tail when he’s happy, eats like a pig and is a poopin’ machine, we’ll make life just as good and comfortable for him as we know how. He rates it, living like a pasha! And we’re so frickin’ selfish.
I know you know and I loves ya for it.
I don’t call it selfish on either end, Ms. Sister. In fact, I hope one day that my own Master will pat my head and say, “Good boy!” I dig you completely here.
(Well, OK, Lord, I could do without the Britches, but otherwise…)
Yes, THS, my heart goes out for all of yez! I love pets as well (though I haven’t had one for years — my travels make it unfair to said creatures).
In exhibiting the symptoms you describe, the dog’s simply trying to tell you that his existence is fast coming to a natural conclusion; i.e., death!
Why don’t you take the damn animal to a vet and, don’t ‘put it to sleep’, don’t ‘put it down’; ask the vet to kill it, because you’ve had years of companionship out of the poor animal, why not end it’s no doubt uncomfortable existence?
Yeah, that’s entirely true Mike and we know his time is coming. But he’ll let us know when, and it’s definately not now. He’s uncomfortable, like any old man but not suffering. He’s got his aches and gotta take his pills, but he still eats like a horse, his bowels function perfectly (don’t we know), he’s alert AND reactive to everything around him (as in jumps up to catch what might be salad or something hitting the floor) and follows us around. He’s still enjoying life.
We won’t ‘kill’ him because he’s old and takes a little work on our part. That would be a travesty.
Mike, uncomfortable is not the same as miserable. My grandmother kept her dogs alive to the point of misery, and I swore that I’d never do that. I dislike farming out the euthanasia, but my wife insists we let the vet do it.
I had to go through this with my cat recently. She got sick, and we nursed her back to health. For while she was so ill I considered putting her down, so I got out my toy gun (9 mm), and looked her in the face. She was still well enough I couldn’t pull the trigger. I find even contemplating the prospect of doing the violence yourself focuses the mind wonderfully.
She got better, and had another 6 months with her brothers, then her kidneys failed for real. At that point, she was so sick I could easily have pulled the trigger. So I went to the vet and looked her in the eyes as she expired. Aside from killing a pet yourself, that’s the only way to do it – to make sure you’re not killing the animal for your own convenience. You take over Mother Nature’s role when you raise a domestic animal, and that should cause some reflection on your part when playing God – I know it does me. I think that THS’s criteria of the happy dance is a pretty good one for when to pull the trigger.
Condolences to you and the pooch, Sis. Hope he feels better soon.
My parents live in very, very rural Louisiana. Their surrounding neighbors (family, all live on a 30-acre spread, split amongst generations of the family) routinely have plenty of animals around. Unfortunately, there’s also a lot of vehicular maintenace going on, which means lots of pans of fluids laying about.
I can’t count how many dogs my uncle, myself and my brother have had to put down because they drank anti-freeze.