..........Contact me at Mom25dogs@gmail.com.........

Contact me at Mom25dogs@gmail.com

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

My Mother As A Little Girl

I found this photo of my mother as a little girl riding her tricycle. So this is the digital scrapbook page I made of her.



In Memory of Spunky Monkey

After I had gotten Lil Miss MoneyPenny, we discovered dog rescue. My sisters got very involved and even have their own dog rescue organizations. Elaine rescues Pomeranians at PomRescue.com. In searching for adoptable Miniature Pinschers we found IMPS (Internet Miniature Pinscher Service). They have groups all over the US. They just rescue Min Pins. As I was looking through the photos of adoptable Min Pins in our area, I saw a photo that grabbed me. It was of a beautiful, tiny clear red Miniature Pinscher. He was a dark red and so little and his eyes.... Well, I fell in love.

Here was his story: He was given as a gift to a woman who didn't really want him. He got out and got hit by a car. She didn't take him to the vet immediately until he started showing signs of problems. His brain had swelled. So she took him to the vet to be put to sleep. The vet saved him and gave him to IMPS. He had brain damage. It made him whirl and his senses didn't work properly. I think his body worked fine but his brain couldn't interpret what his senses told him. For instance he didn't seem able to smell, taste, see, hear like a regular dog. Fairly quickly we became imprinted in his mind and he knew us, our voices, our smells, our home. But take him outside his comfort zone and he was on high alert trying to figure out what was going on. It would exhaust him quickly. Other than this he was pretty healthy and low maintenance.

He was in a foster home in southern Georgia so it was a 5 hour trip one way. My sister, Melinda, went with me and we took Lil Miss MoneyPenny with us to make sure they got along. It was a cold, raw day in December of 2003. His foster mother loved him to death and for years I kept up with her letting her know how well Spunky was doing. Anyway, everything was a go and I brought him home with us. It rained all the way home. He didn't know us from Adam and everything was strange. He must have been frightened but he didn't act like it. He was so brave and plucky that I named him Spunky Monkey.






The first day home I thought I had made a mistake getting him because he was so revved up. He whirled and twirled throughout the house over and over again for hours. But he finally wore out and slept. After that he seemed to accept where he was and to be OK. He quickly fell in love with us. Especially me since I was his primary caregiver and with him most of the time. He slept with me from day one.

His first day in our home.

His back feet had white tips on his toes.













Lil Miss MoneyPenny mothered him and took care of him until her retirement. She now lives with two of our Italian Greyhounds in the InLaw Suite so she doesn't have to be anxious over Spunky, Persephone and I. She was always so anxious and bossy over us. It was like we were her 3 puppies (me, I was the big, dumb puppy that she despaired of ever making into a decent dog). But she can rest easier out there. In fact, as we got the other 3 dogs (the other 3 being Italian Greyhounds), they seemed to instinctually know that Spunky was special and they never bothered him and always kept an eye on him. In the pecking order of the 5, Spunky and Persephone were the low men on the totem poles. The other 3 demanded and got more attention. But once I moved MoneyPenny and the 2 boys out to the InLaw Suite, Spunky and Persephone (Persephone is blind) became my special buddies. And Spunky learned to let his Min Pin shine! He became bossy, demanding and spoiled just like MoneyPenny. Miniature Pinschers are known to be this way. They call them the King and Queen of the Toy Breeds.
















He was very healthy and low maintenance until last year when we had some problems with allergies and one of his eyes. But we got over that. We finally figured out he must have been allergic to the peanut butter treats my husband gave him. He also seemed to have some mild allergy to grass. Normally, when he was outside, he stayed on the patio and didn't go down the steps into the grass. With his brain damage, he was sort of blind. Again, I believe it was more that his brain didn't sort out what his eyes told him. So he didn't know how to navigate stairs and didn't every go up or down stairs. But if he got in the grass, he would either start itching or in rubbing his eyes, it would start itching. Then he would rub his eyes too much and hurt his eyes. So I kept him off the grass. Now, all my senior dogs (all 5 are between 12-15 yrs old) stay indoors exclusively. Two of the Italian Greyhounds have skin cancer because of their sun worshipping days and we've had 4 broken legs from them sprinting around in the back yard. Then there are fire ants and birds of prey, heat and cold (which affects those metal plates and screws in their legs) so no more outdoors unless they are on leash and with me and for short periods of time.






















As he started aging, he began to get gray.































Here he was doing his little twirls, not too many since he was in our house and was comfortable and relaxed.
 



This past March, it was time to take Spunky Monkey in for his annual visit to the vet to get his shots, his check up and have his annual dental. I dropped him off and went on to Bible Study. The vet called me while I was in the Bible Study to tell me that Spunky had gone into a violent seizure before she did the dental. She had gone ahead and given him the anesthesia and did the dental because the anesthesia usually got them out of the seizure. But she didn't know how he would wake up. He could go into another seizure. AND, he had been off the anesthesia for 30 mins and still wasn't waking up and no responses. Normally they are waking up within minutes. So I rushed over there. They had him on a heating pad and wrapped up. He was intubated. They took me right back and I petted, talked and cried. I kissed him and loved on him. But for 45 mins there was no response. He kept getting colder; his eyes weren't dilating to light; he was limp; no flinching, nothing.


So I finally told her to put him to sleep. She got the shot ready and I was giving him a last kiss and telling him I loved him when he moved. The vet saw him move. So we kept working with him. I was petting him; calling to him, and he began to come out of it. Within 30 mins he was back to normal and I took him home. I knew we would never be able to put him under again, even for a dental. But he was just like he had always been, happy, healthy and spoiled.

We had him for a little over 4 months that way. Then on 7/22/2015, I woke up at 5am to him in another violent seizure. He had been sound asleep so there was no stress or cause. He had pee'd and pooped himself, was thrashing around, his tongue lolled out and his eyes wild and rigid. I wrapped him in a towel and held him. After 10 mins he got some better but his eyes still weren't right and he was still having tremors. When I put him on the floor he went into rapid whirling, enough to make me think he would get dizzy. So I continued to hold him in the towel. After 30 mins he went into another seizure. Stan saw it this time. This one only lasted about 5 mins and then he relaxed back to normal. I knew I would have to take him to the vet but we went back to sleep for a few hours. At 9:00am I called the vet and took him in. He was acting normal. But while at the vet, he went into the worst seizure yet. Again, the violent thrashing, peeing and pooping, tongue lolled out, eyes wild and rigid. They gave him phenobarbital and a sedative. This calmed it but, like before, he was still not right. He continued to have tremors, his tongue gripped between his teeth and his eyes not right. The vet said he could give me phenobarbital to take home and give to him twice a day. And we could try that but I knew it wasn't right to make him go through any more of those horrible seizures. I'm not very good in medical situations. I knew seeing him going through that would devastate me as well as him. I wouldn't have felt right ever leaving home in case he had a seizure while I was out. He was already 12 years old and the brain damage from his youth indicated to me that it wasn't going to heal itself. If he was young, I would have tried it but he was old. So I made the decision to have him put to sleep. They gave me an hour to love on him and I snapped a few last photos of him. He was heavily sedated. Then, while I was kissing him, petting him and whispering "Good boy", he went home to be with the Lord. I know I will see him again.




It was devastating. I cried off and on all day. Stan buried him beneath my bedroom window so he is with me. Persephone looked for him a couple of days. But now Stan, Persephone and I have healed enough for me to write this in his memory.

"You were my little butt, my little Spunky Monkey man. Mama and Daddy loved you and you brought us much joy. We will see you again."





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