I loved you best

I Loved You Best
By Jim Willis
So this is where we part, My Friend,
and you'll run on, around the bend,
gone from sight, but not from mind,
new pleasures there you'll surely find.
I will go on, I'll find the strength,
life measures quality, not its length.
One long embrace before you leave,
share one last look, before I grieve.
There are others, that much is true,
but they be they, and they aren't you.
And I, fair, impartial, or so I thought,
will remember well all you've taught.
Your place I'll hold, you will be missed
,the fur I stroked, the nose I kissed.
And as you journey to your final rest,
take with you this...I loved you best.

Sasha is gone

This is the first and last time a human will post on Sashaville.
When we came home from work today, Sasha couldn't get up. She hadn't moved from the spot she was in when we went to work in the morning. She laid there all day, didn't even get up to go out. She wagged her tail when we came in, but couldn't do anything else.
She tried to get up when we asked if she had to go out, but she just couldn't do it.
We knew it was time. We were hoping to have some of the fluid drained from around her heart tomorrow, but it wouldn't have done anything at this point.
So we did the only thing we could do for her. We ended her suffering. She is at peace, comfortable and running around again. Eric and I were with her when she went to sleep, so she wasn't alone. She was surrounded by love.
She was our first Siberian Husky. (if you've heard the story before, please bear with me) We had no idea we could find a purebred Siberian Husky in a shelter. We figured we'd go to the pet store at the mall. Fate had other plans.
My sister in law called me to see if I wanted to go to the shelter with her, to help her pick out a dog to adopt. I'm always for playing with dogs, so I went along.
We walk in, and there she was. Second cage on the left. A little black and white, bi-eyed Siberian Husky. I couldn't believe it. I immediately called Eric, and told him we had to get to the shelter first thing in the morning, because we had to adopt a dog (by the time we had gotten there that evening, adoption hours were over)
We weren't even in our house yet, so Sasha came home with me for 3 weeks, until we moved. My parents' old dog hated Sasha and her energy, so she hung in the family room for 3 weeks, where she ate a computer plug, 2 bags of beggin strips, an Elmo costume, and 3 jars of finger paints. We had pink and blue and purple pawprints all over the basement, and the couch, and the love seat.
We knew nothing about Sibes, besides the fact that they're gorgeous. Sasha gave us an education and fast. She loved to eat the phone book, and any hardback.
We had a round papasan chair. She kept all her toys on top of it, and all the stuff she stole that she shouldn't have underneath it. We'd come home and go see what she got into. She ran by us with a huge bottle of olive oil one day, and a bag of garlic another-clearly an Italian Siberian Husky.
She was the boss of the house, keeping Isis and Ray in line, as well as any fosters we had in the house. As soon as they came in, she mounted them, so they knew who was boss, and all was well.
She didn't keep her bossing to dogs. My father in law was in her spot on the sofa. She squeezed behind him, and shoved him off the couch, then curled up in his spot and went to sleep.
We had her for 9 years, almost. Her birthday is April 8. We don't know when it really is, but that's when we saw her at the shelter. 8 is my lucky number, and we got all our dogs on the 8th. We signed Isis's paperwork on Feb. 8, and we adopted Ray on October 8th (his real birthday).
And we met Sasha on April 8.
I can't believe she's gone. I'm waiting for to jump on the bed and shove me out of the way, or claw me for my breakfast, or jump in my spot when I got up, or hog the blankets, or do any of the million things she did every day.
I just don't know what I'm going to do without her.
Godspeed, Sasha.

Bad news in Sashaville

The humans dragged me back to the vet (TWICE today).
The lump in my leg isn't cancer, but the ultrasound had bad news.
I have cancer in my lungs and a big tumor on a muscle near my right shoulder.
There's nothing they can do for me, but feed me lots of good stuff and give me pain meds.
Thanks to everyone who sent me god wishes.

ER again

Yesterday I wasn't myself. I was limping badly on my bad leg, and just felt lousy. I didn't even greet my humans when they came home from work. I just laid on the dining room floor.
THey knew I wasn't feeling well, so they took me back to the ER. They drew blood and did an x ray of my shoulder again.
Apparently I'm anemic, and they don't know why. My red blood count was low.
And there's a lump on my elbow that wasn't there last month on the x ray, or 2 weeks ago when I saw the surgeon. They don't know what it is. Could be just tissue. Could be (gulp) cancer.
So I'm going Monday for a suckfest of tests. Redraw my blood to see if that was just a one time thing. Aspirate the elbow lump to see what it is. Get an abdominal ultrasound to be sure there are no lumps anywhere else (the vet didn't feel any).
The vet I saw was the one who deflated Isis's fat ear at Christmas. She is very nice.
So if you could send some good vibes out to me, I'd appreciate it.

Back to the vet

The humans were worried that I was still limping after a week or two. Um, duh? I hurt my leg, it doesn't get better in an hour. Geez.
So they made an appointment for Wednesday, and if I stopped limping, they would cancel it. Tuesday I limped extra hard, just for good measure. They haven't taken me ANYWHERE since I hurt my leg, and I'm bored, so I figured a vet trip would at least get me out of the house.
When we got to the vet, I wanted to play with all the dogs. Noone wanted to play though. Some of the humans asked why I was there, since I wasn't limping any more. I saw the vet for maybe 30 seconds, she watched me walk, and said I was fine. I don't have to be carried up and down the stairs anymore (that was humiliating) but no dog park for a month (booo)
So my shoulder is healing nicely. Thanks to everyone for your concern.
And to get them back, besides dragging them to the vet for nothing, I've been waking them up at odd times to let me out. Sometimes 2 am, sometimes 5...whenever I wake up and think of it.

OK, this isn't fun any more

So for a while the limping was fun. I didn't hurt too badly, and I got liverwurst all the time. But things are really starting to get on my nerves now.
They have the stairs blocked, so I can't go up or down. My human dad has to carry me, which is humiliating.
But NOW, since I'm still limping, they've blocked me from getting on the sofa OR in the window. My favorite thing to do is sit in the window and howl at everyone. What am I supposed to do? I'm stuck here on the floor with the blind dog.
Look, that's me glaring from behind the gate.

Apparently they don't appreciate the full vehemence of my wrath, because look at what they're allowing.

Yep, that's that big suckup load, Isis, sprawled in MY WINDOW.
Clearly this must be punished, and severely.
Any suggestions about how I should seek vengeance against the humans?

Limping=cheese

I highly recommend limping. Just pick a paw, and favor it a little.
It will probably mean a vet visit, and I know that's not fun. But get past that, and things get better.
I've been getting extra cheese and livergreat since I started limping. They try to give me pills, and I keep spitting them out. So more cheese or livergreat to try to hide the pill better. Then I lay around and look sad, and everyone feels bad and pets me and gives me treats. The humans have been all worried about me, so they're extra nice.
I'll probably stop in a few days, but it's really great fun. Give it a try. Remember, pills are hidden in the treats, so be sure to spit it out the first few times. But then you have to take it. If you don't, they'll just shove the pill down your throat, defeating the purpose of limping for livergreat.
Have fun!