Parmigiano
Senior Airman
I know that this post will look strange to many people, only those who love dogs and went trough this can understand the grief.
At 48 I am not ashamed to say that in the last 5 days I cried like I don't remember I did before..
We rescued her from the shelter when she was 2 months old, and nicknamed her 'Mostrino', little monster, because she looked so ugly: big chunks of fur missing, skinny as a skeleton and dehydrated. Vet said that she was a pure Husky and that in the shelter she would not had lived another 48 hours.
In 3 months she became beautiful and earned her nickname for what she did instead of how she looked.
A true rascal, making impredictable disasters one on top of the other, but with a grace, a cleverness and a sympathy that made impossible to scold her.
You install a new fence and the first night she dig a hole as big as a panzer trap below it to run away on the hill, you barbecue and protect the beef from her attention and before you realize what's going on she opens the fridge, shops for a bar of butter and is already up the hill.
She used to eat half of her food and bury the rest in the garden, saving it for 'bad times'. Of course after some time the buried food was a kind of powerful biological weapon, so she earned the alternative nickname of 'Saddam'
She was a no-nonsense dog. One day I was lying sick on the couch with high fever. All other dogs came to see me. She entered the room, looked around and ran outside.
After a while I was awakened by her nose pushing close to my mouth some dead lizard and a mouse: she evidently assessed that I was to ill to take care of myself and managed to bring me food.
She died in the same style she had lived: in all her disasters nobody noticed anything until it was already too late.
A blood-vase cancer (vascular angiosarcoma) at the base of the heart, impossible to detect, totally asymptomathic until the very end and always deadly.
On Monday 29 she was breathing a bit roughly but was elsewhere ok, running and jumping as always.
Took to the clinic, she was diagnosed an early pneumonia, not unusual for Huskies living in temperate areas when the season change. Blood test was perfect, slightly above standard only for the parameters linked to the detected infection. Vet prescribed some antibiotics, the dog was perfectly in shape the whole week.
On Saturday morning she looked ok but too weak, we took her to the vet for a control, the blood tests made at 10.30 were still ok except for the symptoms of a harder infection. Everybody thought was a kind of allergy to some antibiotic, but a small nodule was found on her belly when we shaved her for the echo test.
At 11.30 she fell asleep and by 11.45 she was gone.
One hour later the analysis of the nodule provided the answer.
At 48 I am not ashamed to say that in the last 5 days I cried like I don't remember I did before..
We rescued her from the shelter when she was 2 months old, and nicknamed her 'Mostrino', little monster, because she looked so ugly: big chunks of fur missing, skinny as a skeleton and dehydrated. Vet said that she was a pure Husky and that in the shelter she would not had lived another 48 hours.
In 3 months she became beautiful and earned her nickname for what she did instead of how she looked.
A true rascal, making impredictable disasters one on top of the other, but with a grace, a cleverness and a sympathy that made impossible to scold her.
You install a new fence and the first night she dig a hole as big as a panzer trap below it to run away on the hill, you barbecue and protect the beef from her attention and before you realize what's going on she opens the fridge, shops for a bar of butter and is already up the hill.
She used to eat half of her food and bury the rest in the garden, saving it for 'bad times'. Of course after some time the buried food was a kind of powerful biological weapon, so she earned the alternative nickname of 'Saddam'
She was a no-nonsense dog. One day I was lying sick on the couch with high fever. All other dogs came to see me. She entered the room, looked around and ran outside.
After a while I was awakened by her nose pushing close to my mouth some dead lizard and a mouse: she evidently assessed that I was to ill to take care of myself and managed to bring me food.
She died in the same style she had lived: in all her disasters nobody noticed anything until it was already too late.
A blood-vase cancer (vascular angiosarcoma) at the base of the heart, impossible to detect, totally asymptomathic until the very end and always deadly.
On Monday 29 she was breathing a bit roughly but was elsewhere ok, running and jumping as always.
Took to the clinic, she was diagnosed an early pneumonia, not unusual for Huskies living in temperate areas when the season change. Blood test was perfect, slightly above standard only for the parameters linked to the detected infection. Vet prescribed some antibiotics, the dog was perfectly in shape the whole week.
On Saturday morning she looked ok but too weak, we took her to the vet for a control, the blood tests made at 10.30 were still ok except for the symptoms of a harder infection. Everybody thought was a kind of allergy to some antibiotic, but a small nodule was found on her belly when we shaved her for the echo test.
At 11.30 she fell asleep and by 11.45 she was gone.
One hour later the analysis of the nodule provided the answer.
