Sweety: 1997-2012

Woodlands Sweet Apple Cider - October 18, 1997 - November 12, 2012 (Sweetie)

Still young and healthy

I lost my 15+ year old Sweetie dog.  She was out of my first corgi litter and lived here for her forever life.  Although there are still 4 children and grandchildren with me, her passing has made a hole in my heart and house.  Although she was  very sweet with people, she was quite tough with other dogs and ruled the roost till the day she left us.  She always made her little bark when people came to visit so that they would come and pet her first.

Sweetie was out of my first Pembroke litter.  She goes back to the Shaferhaus lines.  She had one litter, and her daughter Deedee is still with me at age 12. Deedee has not been DNA'd for DM, but is still moving well and able to do her walkies in the park.  Sweetie did some conformation shows and had some points, but I decided that she was not really going to finish her championship title.  On top of that, she was NOT willing to learn obedience…stubborn should have been her second name!  So she lived her fifteen years as a good companion and guarded the house and yard against chipmunks.

To the best of my memory, Sweetie started to show obvious signs of DM around the summer of 2010.  I had her tested January 18, 2011 and she came up At Risk.  On 4/9/2011 I got her a cart and some time before that her WalkAbout - size Small/Medium from Scout's House.  She could use her cart until beginning 2012, and then only her walkabout.  

9-7-11

Sweetie was my "bed" dog, but she could no longer jump up.  I used to call her the "Pillow Queen" because she would sleep next to me right on top of a pillow.  She knew how to make herself comfy.  I loved having her company.

When she became urine incontinent (25mg Proin helped), she slept in a large wire crate in the bedroom, along with the other girls.  It was not long till she just could not make it up the steps by herself, so she wore her walkabout for the staircase and up we went together….going down in the morning was always exciting as I had to make sure she did not tumble down the steps.  The walkabout was necessary going down also.  It seems I spent a lot of time, putting on the walkabout and taking it off!  At that time I told myself when she could no longer pull herself upstairs (with my help, of course) I would put her down.  But that is not how it went.  Although she was "planted", she still seemed to have a will to live and enjoy life as it became for her.  She could still be in the dog yard watching what was going on and snoozing in the sun.

She never complained about her unlucky lot in life.  For a while she managed to scoot around.  I did get her booties to save her rear paws from scrapes.  She liked her cart and had no problems from the get go.  She knew to bark for me if she got stuck somewhere, which happened often.  We could only use her cart outdoors as my house has too many steps.

2-1-12 - probably around the last time she could use her cart.  Luckily, a mild winter.

Sometime in spring/summer of 2012, she lost all use of her legs.  About the most she could do was a little rotation to turn around.  Instead of upstairs at night, she slept on a nice comfy bed in the kitchen with the boys.  She only complained for a couple of nights….."wait! you forgot about me!"  But she quickly adjusted.  During the day, she was in the groom room, or sunning herself outside.  Evenings she spent in the family room with us, enjoying her popcorn.  She became totality incontinent and started to develop UTI's, even though I expressed her as often as I could.  I got her Huggies diapers, size 5, which where a God Send!  I also bought hospital wee wee pads on EBAY. I never had to express poop….it just fell out.

It was when family would exclaim how awful she was looking that I began to think the time is coming.  Although her eyes were bright, mind good, appetite good, she had lost a lot of weight and I would see her shivering a lot.  She had a huge cyst/tumor on her tummy.  And she started getting blood in her urine even though treated for UTI.  Sweetie was a strong minded, cantankerous girl to the very end.  We will all miss her presence. I cannot say that DM killed her….I believe that age was a factor and that something else was going on.

How did DM affect my life?  I became a care taker, always worried about leaving for too long.  I know that down the line, one of my dogs may come down with DM and at this point I would say, never again.  I cannot go through this again.  But who knows, when it actually occurs, just how I would feel then.  The big difficulty with DM is the fact that the dogs don't seem to complain.  They still have light in their eyes and expectations of good things to come.  So we become their care takers with love in our hearts and grieve when they have to leave us.

Run free, my Sweetie.  Chase those chipmunks at the Bridge.

At the end…..my pretty old girlie

Birgit Rhoads

Woodland

http://www.woodlandpwc.com/photography.html

miwebmail@gmail.com

Precious 8/21/2001 – 7/3/2012

This story is based on Tammy's remembrances of Precious, and is
mostly in her own words.

" First, it is amazing how we learned to cope through each stage of the
disease. The wheelcorgis website was a tremendous wealth of knowledge
& emotional support. It helped me just knowing that others had either
already or were going through the same experience.

"Precious was four when I adopted her. I found her on Petfinder
and she already had the name Precious, so I kept it. I had her for
six years and nine months.

"May 2010 I emailed the vet about noticing Precious dragging her
back right leg. Precious was almost 9 years old when we visited
the neurologist (Aug 2010). The neurologist confirmed it was
definitely a neurological issue & that Precious didn’t appear to be
in pain. I chose not to do the MRI. When our vet & neurologist
spoke about a month later, the neurologist suggested trying
steroids & if no improvement was noticed then the diagnosis is
most likely DM. We tried the steroids for two weeks & noticed no
improvement.

"Precious lived with DM for almost two years. We went through
the usual. She had a cart.  We coped with UTIs & incontinence with the help of puppy pads, shower curtain liners, baby wipes & waterless shampoo.

"We had a fan to calm her at night. We supplemented her diet with
D-mannose for the UTI's and green beans and pumpkin and
yogurt (to keep her weight down and stools firm.)

" We continued our daily walks although they progressed from her
wheelchair, to her red wagon, to her Goodwill baby stroller. She loved
humans & she got even more attention from her “fan club” when she was
in her red wagon or baby stroller. Using the sling to take her outside to
pee & poop was very helpful. (Thanks to Deena & Rosie for “passing it
on.”)

"My world revolved around taking care of Precious during her last 6
months. We didn’t travel, did loads of laundry, focused on keeping
Precious clean & happy. We enjoyed just being together!

"Precious was drinking tons of water her last few weeks & would lose it
almost immediately. On her last morning, she appeared to be having
difficulty breathing. At this point, I decided it was best to let her go. I
took the afternoon off and we enjoyed our final day together.

" Living thru DM created an even stronger bond between us. Watching
Precious graciously & courageously accept what life had dealt her was an
inspiration to me & many other folks that crossed our paths during this
journey.

"She was amazingly happy even to the end & asked very little in return.
She taught me to live each day to the fullest. Every day is a gift!"

OC "Ornery Cuss", April 1999-January 2012

Linda wrote this account of her corgi OC's battle with DM.

 "OC was born one late afternoon in April of 1999. She was the second of three puppies in the only litter her mother (AKC Irish Misty Fire) had. She passed over the bridge on February 17, 2012 and was almost 13 years old. Her mother, Misty, had passed away of lung cancer 5 days after her 10th birthday, and her father, Buddy, had passed away of cancer that had gone to his brain at the age of 12. He was fine one day, and woke me the next morning having seizures, was rushed to the vet’s where they did tests, etc., and came up with that diagnosis, so was euthanized.

" OC had worked with her mom and dad for several years herding the goats we had, putting them in their pens or in parts of the yard that needed “trimming.” When she was a little over 4 years old, one of the goats got her and crushed her against a wall, injuring her back and hips, and it took a little over 6 months for her to get over that and walk normally again. We got rid of the goats shortly after that, as I was injured and hurt my hip and back, as well.

"OC learned so quickly, and soon became my helper dog, picking things up for me from the floor or under desks or tables while I was in a wheelchair, and continued in that roll as I graduated to a cane. She would carry small things to and from my husband or son, as well, and even go into other rooms to get things I sent her for.

"Because of her earlier back injury, we thought that arthritis had set in when she started having trouble in the back end at the age of about 9 and a half. At that time, we built ramps, so that she wouldn’t have to navigate stairs. When she went down totally in her hind end at the age of 11, my son built a homemade wheelchair for her, which she was able to use very well, joining the rest of our corgis chasing squirrels out in the pastures and getting around on walks and to use the bathroom. She did pretty well for another year, but got weaker and weaker in the front end until she needed a 4 wheeled chair a few months after she turned 12.

 "About that time, I heard about the Wheelchair Corgis group on Yahoo, and joined them. They are wonderful people and it was such a blessing to have so much information on the care of dogs that slowly become paralyzed… I had never heard of DM before that, but as I read more and more about it from the posts on there, I could see that she had all the symptoms, on top of the original arthritis. At least it kept her from having a lot of pain, though I still kept her on some pain meds as well as the Gabapentin during the last several months. I never had her checked with a DNA swab.

 "She was able to tolerate the 4 wheeled chair for several months, but she had developed a mammary fatty tumor, which caused problems from pressure when she was put into her chair, so we figured out a sort of “potty area” that was slanted slightly and we could carry her outside and lay her on that for her to go potty during her last several months. It really bothered her to have an “accident” inside. When she was put down on her potty area, she would curl herself around a bit to put pressure on her bladder and then go that way, and the angle let the urine/poop run/roll away from her body. I used baby wipes to clean her and a generic “Desitin” (diaper rash ointment) to keep her from getting urine scald, which I’d never heard, or thought of, before she started to develop it.

 "I used D-Mannose everyday after her second UTI (urinary tract infection). The UTI was treated with amoxicillin, but I learned about the D-Mannose from the Wheelchair group, and she never had another infection after I started using it. She took about 1000 mg. a day of the D-Mannose.

" Eventually, she lost sphincter control of her rectum and would “poop” involuntarily, but she was usually solid, so that was not a problem to clean up after. By that time, she was on extra absorbent “pee pads,” in case of an accident. I found that giving her some yogurt everyday seemed to keep her bowels regulated.

"She would also let us know, by barking her little weak bark (by that time) whenever she wanted a drink of water, needed to go outside, or smelled that she’d pooped, and when she got uncomfortable and needed to be turned over and/or propped a different way (about every 2-4 hours day and night). We had gotten her a piece of 4 inch Memory foam to make her a bed to be sure that she didn’t get “bedsores.” Because of health issues of my own, I sleep in a recliner chair, so we made her bed on a table beside my chair, so I could be touching her at night if she needed me.

 "OC also got cancer and she started having trouble breathing (partially from DM) but that last day, she also started to have small seizures, so I had to let her go at that point. She still perked up a bit to bark at the other dogs she saw on her last trip… a beautiful Ornery Cuss to the end.

 "It was a very difficult trip to take, with my precious OC, through this awful disease. To watch her slowly go downhill, and not know WHEN to quit, was the hardest. Caring for her as long as we did was only possible because I was home on disability and my son was home to help with my care and hers. I had worked for 18 years with severely handicapped children in the public school system, so had no problem with medical needs or cleanup, and my son was able to be there to carry her out 95% of the time when she needed it. Other times, my husband did, or she had to use the pee pads (which she HATED to do).

" I had thought that I was going to have to make “The Decision” when she was 9 and her back legs went out, and then I found out about wheelchairs and my son was able to make one for her. It was such a Godsend to have her so much longer, but this past several months as she got to the point where she couldn’t sit up without support, her breathing started to be more labored, and she started to get depressed or to tired to pay a lot of attention, or was only happy when she had my full attention, I could tell the time was coming and THAT was the hard part. I’ve cried most every day wanting to do what was best for her… she would always perk up if I sat beside her and petted or played with her, so I would think, “Just a little longer.” I’ve also had asthma and heart problems this past year, and others have talked about the stress being too much, but OC was a big part of me and I never could have given her as much love as she gave me."

Rummy: September 5, 1994 to July 2, 2010

Rummy belonged to Christine McLaughlin, her husband, son Jonathan and to his second family. Christine wrote the following about Rummy.

"Rummy (Arbor Festinog Midnight Snack) came to us as an oversize fluffy puppy at the beginning of December 1994, when our son and I visited a breeder to look at getting an already trained adult dog. But our hearts were drawn instead to a puppy watching us from a pen. The timid puppy immediately nestled into the lap of our seven-year old only child, who announced tearfully that the puppy had “chosen him”. Potty training a puppy through a Boston winter had not been in the plans, but we never regretted getting Rummy. His main interest throughout his life was guarding and protecting his humans, especially our son and his nanny. Even as a puppy, he was always watchful and serious, never playful or silly. He was a dud at the A-frame in agility and was terrified to have his feet leave the ground, whether in jumping up, swimming or being picked up. He believed in the value of warning and disciplinary nips.





"Rummy lived with DM for well over three years and died just two months short of his sixteenth birthday, as a functional quadriplegic. He was finally diagnosed at age thirteen by a neurologist only after he had reached the point where he was collapsing on one side in the rear every 42 seconds because his general vets and I thought it was “merely arthritis” for the longest time. I think the “lameness” that Rummy developed at age 11 or so might have been the very beginning of DM, not just the Lyme’s disease for which he was treated, as was his increasing hesitance on uncarpeted stairs, something we attributed to his overall “general clumsiness” and the “long fur” between the pads of his fluffy hobbit feet. We had never heard of DM.

"He absolutely refused to use his cart but adapted quickly to being supported with a Bottoms Up rear leg sling (which had to be modified to keep on his legs) and galloped around very happily with it (and later a front harness) for 2 ½ years, until my aching arms could no longer bear his full 35 pound dead weight. (For the last six months of his life, I kept his bed on my desk near me so I didn’t need to kneel to care for him (I had developed knee tendonitis) and so my presence provided the constant reassurance he needed.) As the DM progressed, so too did our adaptations for him, familiar to all owners of DM corgis: yoga mats for traction, booties, carts, beds, bolsters, strollers, skin cleaners galore, d-mannose for the frequent UTIs, medications, bellybands/diapers, many different types of food to tempt him, weekly swimming in a pool, seemingly vast amounts of “stuff” to keep him amused and comfortable. We were blessed to have enough time, health, energy, patience, money and backup support to care for him so long into his disease and old age.

"The immobile/incontinent/retentive stage ain’t so bad! I found it actually much easier to care for Rummy when he couldn’t move and couldn’t urinate because everything was under my control and he didn’t need to be carried outside many times a day. To escape those steep outside stairs that, in miserable Boston winters needed to be shoveled constantly just to take an immobile DM dog outside safely for potty walks in the snow in his harnesses, we undertook an epic drive with him, in his last winter, from Boston to Florida and back. (We chose to drive to Florida, shoehorned into a BMW sedan, because I knew he would freak out at flying.) Rummy sprawled regally in half the back seat, with the other half jammed with his big jogging stroller, cart (I hoped that warm weather might inspire me and him!), and bedding, with my husband’s golf clubs and many other Rummy supplies in the trunk. The only place left to store the bulky box with the University of Missouri “tissue collection kit” (we were prepared for everything!) was on my lap for every mile of the entire 3400+ miles of the drive. We travelled with a list of neurologists based along the route and even had Rummy examined by a neurologist on the other side of Florida to make arrangements for tissue collection, “just in case”. On the road, we stayed at dog-friendly luxury hotels and golf resorts, where the collection vials and freezer packs had to refrigerated carefully every night, to the amazement of the hotel staff. During our month long stay at a rented condo, Rummy enjoyed being wheeled about in his jogging stroller for hours every day. He became a familiar sight and developed quite a fan club in our gated community as an “ambassador of DM”.



"In general caring for Rummy, I tried to be mindful to make choices that would help maintain my own sanity. It was a painful decision to start having his entire body shaved, trading his magnificent fluffy beauty for a “scraggly lamb” look, but it was much easier to keep him healthy and cool. I “expressed poop” so Rummy wouldn’t lie in it and develop sores. I was willing to try anything to get him to sleep more at night (a small fan on him worked better than any medication). I was able to get breaks from him by relying on respite care from his extraordinarily devoted “second family” who cared for him when we traveled, even for long periods of time. The mother in this family, our former long-time nanny and now a nurse, to whom Rummy remained extremely attached his entire life, had many excellent suggestions about nursing care for him, and her two children adored Rummy and provided great amusement for “The King”, as they called him, including celebrating all his birthdays, even his last at 15 ½, and giving him a loving goodbye at the very end.



"I found joy in the fullness of Rummy’s life and even in my near full-time care of him, and I found it very hard to let him go. I think that caring for a totally helpless dog makes parting from him even more wrenching, because he becomes more like a "human infant" than "beloved animal". Rummy was quite happy until the very end, so I felt obligated to stick with caring for him, even though I was increasingly frazzled and exhausted. Rummy’s euthanasia needed to be arranged well in advance around the schedule of his busy research neurologist at Tufts because I was absolutely determined from an early date to have him contribute to DM research. Our son Jon, now 23 years old, took time off from work to come back to Boston to accompany his beloved old buddy Rummy on that final journey, including feeding Rummy his last meal at 3:30am after he arrived and Rummy, of course, was wide awake and hungry.  



Rummy wasn’t euthanized because of DM; although for many months at the end he couldn’t move any part of his body, had to be supported and repositioned constantly, and could only rarely lift his head even slightly, he remained bright, engaged, and deeply aware. His full autopsy showed that his month-long reluctance to eat (the reason for the euthanasia) was due to heartburn from a benign tumor in his esophagus, not anything serious medically, and his difficulty tonguing food was due to several small strokes, not advanced DM in his cervical nerves. His tissues were indeed donated to the University of Missouri, using that kit I carried so faithfully on my lap on Rummy’s Great Adventure. I will remain forever grateful to all the researchers who are working so hard to conquer DM and ALS.



"We miss him every day. He was a stubborn, beautiful, protective dog who came into our lives as a gentle young puppy and left as a grand old man -- still dignified, opinionated, and wise.

Roggan, 1998-2011

Roggan belonged to Kirsty McCarron and her family.

"Roggan went to the bridge on Oct. 19. He would have been 13 Oct. 20. " (This was also Merlin's birthday.)

"My grandparents raised corgis. I remember one of their corgis, a r/w male named Zebby. He was the perfect corgi, and when we started talking about getting a dog, I knew it was to be a corgi.

"I didn't research breeders, just found one close to me, who had puppies. We got Roggan when Emma was 4, and the twins, Jordan and Devon, 1. He was very devoted to the kids. If anyone approached his kids, look out. He would defend them with his life. But if the kids weren't around, he would take any lovings he could get. We often said that if anyone broke into our house Roggan would probably lick them to death. He loved any visitor.

" We took him with us anywhere we could. He loved the beach, swimming pools, sprinklers, water guns, anything water related. He would get so wet that his ears would flop. Roggan also had the largest corgi ears. On windy days we would joke that we should put a leash on him in case he flew away.

"In true corgi fashion, meal time was his favourite time of day, and he would sit outside and refuse to come in until he got a cookie. He could manipulate for food. In fact, I think he was a master.

"Roggan started dragging his back leg 2 yrs ago; by April of 2011, he was completely down in the back end, but could bunny hop run if something got his attention. We built a ramp for him for the stairs, got a cart, slept on the couch with him beside us, tried multiple medications, and found Wheelcorgis, who were full of information and suggestions for us.

"By August 2011, he was having trouble with his front legs. By September we had to help him up the ramp, he lost control of his bladder. October he began barking all night long. He would settle if we got up with him, but as soon as we left him alone again, he would start barking. We also noticed at this time that he was choking on his food.

"We opted to have Roggan euthanized as he was becoming very agitated at night, and could not settle. He was also licking himself, and had developed multiple sores on his body. He was incontinent of bowel and bladder, and was very upset with himself when he had accidents in the house.

When asked how Roggan's DM had affected their lives, Kirsty said, " We had adjusted our lives to make sure Roggan was never alone, and if we did have to leave him, it would be for as short of time as possible.

"The worst thing is the feeling of guilt, the what if's, etc. I feel that maybe I could of done more if I had more money. Maybe I gave up on him too soon. He was an amazing, devoted dog, and we couldn't of asked for more.

"Although he was hyper, and could get nasty when anyone touched his back, he was a perfect dog. We miss him dearly."

Cookie, 199? to 2011, Beloved Rescue Corgi

Cookie, Beloved Rescued Corgi

The following is written by Millie Williams. Millie is the author of The Watching, a beautifully illustrated book about corgis and Christmas.

Cookie came into foster care in December, 2010, from a home with elderly owners who could no longer lift her due to their advanced ages. When Sue, the transporter, picked her up and drove her partway to me, she said “She’s going down in the back”. What I saw when she let Cookie out of her van was an elderly corgi who was having trouble walking. There was some pain which we were able to relieve with aspirin, but she had that gait that is so common in dogs with DM, too.

I knew little about Cookie’s background except that she had wandered into the owners’ yard, lost, and they had kept her. They estimated her age at about 11, I thought it was more like 13 or 14, based on the white on her face, her teeth and her general condition. The owners had loved her but realized that it was going to be too much for them to care for her. She seemed happy and interested in everything that went on at our home.

Cookie was the sweetest of the Sweet. I aspire to breed temperaments as lovely as hers was. My corgis would walk by and say something about “Yo momma” and she would just look at them very mildly and say “What a nice day it is!” A true Southern Belle! On the other hand, she was just an ordinary corgi in looks. But what is inside is the most important and Cookie brought that lesson home to me more than once.

Within 3 weeks, she was having trouble getting up, keeping her balance and walking at all. Most of the time, she just seal walked but then after a week or two, got up and walked a few steps now and then for another week. This time when she went down, she never got up again.

In years past, we also had a lovely girl named Isabelle who had destroyed her back leaping off the porch for several years and so we knew what was to come. Although I had sworn that I would not go through this again, one look into Cookie’s gentle eyes told me she had a zest for living and was not ready to leave us just yet. So we fitted her for diapers, shaved her rear, dug out the double sided fleecy blankets and found her a non tip water bowl. And Cookie did love that bowl! It had Velcro on the bottom so it wouldn’t scoot away from her on the fleecy if she wanted a drink.

Caring for a dog with a back injury or DM is mostly a matter of management and prevention. Managing the diet, whatever therapy you can give to them and time; prevention of sores from lying on one side too long or dragging themselves, keeping bottoms clean of waste so that sores don’t begin there, keeping the dog’s mind occupied and busy. Cookie was easily entertained, she liked rolled pork skin with sweet potato on the inside and she liked to be petted. One thing people do forget with these dogs is the need to scratch them all over when their little back legs cannot scratch their faces, ears, head, neck, and they lack the ability to lie on their backs and scratch themselves this way.

Cookie enjoyed being in the yard with the other corgis, watching the chickens and guineas, scooting merrily about and sniffing everything. She liked to be talked to, enjoyed her meals and watched the litter of corgi pups grow up. Watching TV at night was the best because my husband and I were both “there” all the time with her.

Over the next few months, we sadly saw Cookie deteriorate. And I played the “Line in the Sand” game. It was first that I would not care for a dog (that was not of my breeding) if it went down. Then it was when she had to go in a diaper. I just wasn’t going that far. Then the line got moved again. This happened several times because I dearly loved this little soul that God had sent to me to care for. She was happy, grateful for everything we did for her and she asked for so little. The only good thing about this condition is that one will build an incredible relationship with that animal, and I did.

Finally the day came where I had to admit defeat. I came home from work and Cookie had gotten part way off her fleecy, her rear legs were twisted under her in a very uncomfortable fashion and she looked miserable. Although I realized that I could fix her positioning, I knew that this would happen again and again. And she had started to lie on her side and unable to right herself to get a drink. It was unthinkable that the Line had finally appeared but I could not keep her comfortable if I had to go to work each day. I couldn’t take her to the vet. I asked Jerry if he could and although it nearly killed him, he spared me the last devastating tears that I would have shed. I shed them anyway, but the wound was not so deep.

And how we still miss her… I am misting up as I am writing this story. She brought to my life so many things, yet asked for little. She needed the care and the help, but she was not a demanding dog at all. I found it no trouble at all to help a sweet being that needed some extra help.

God bless you, Cookie. I will miss you always.

Beamer 1997-2011

Annette Sheppard wrote about her corgi Beamer.

"We had Beamer since he was a pup (born 4/15/1997, came to us 6/21/1997)--14 years +. Formal name: Sports Beamer Extraordinaire. He was diagnosed at age 13.



"Beamer had the DNA testing done in August 2010 but was exhibiting symptoms for some months already--we just did not realize what it was. My local vet had done x-rays in June 2010 and had given a diagnosis of arthritis, or possibly IVDD. The next stop was Gulf Coast Veterinary Neurology & Neurosurgery, for a possible MRI. However, he had the DNA test instead, with the result: at risk/affected.

"Knowing the symptoms as we now do would have been helpful in spotting the
development of DM. My daughter recently came across a short video made at
our lake house about 2 years ago. Beamer was tethered to a post on the porch
when a deer approached. Beamer tore off down the steps toward it and was
jerked to a halt by the tether. After that, Katherine said she observed his
hips beginning to give way when he walked. It was a momentary gesture at the
time, but one which would recur at a later time.



"Beamer went on walks with me in our neighborhood and occasional playtime at a nearby bark park. The last time he was at the bark park he slipped into the pond and was unable to get out--it had sloping concrete sides and he
could not get enough traction with his rear legs to push himself out of the
water. He never liked going into the water and was most likely just getting
a drink when he slipped in. I had turned my back on him to look after
Tigger, our latest rescue, who was attempting to leave the park with someone
else. This was the last time we went to the park.

"We got a loaner cart from a friend and adjusted it for Beamer; however, we
were not able to win him over to using it. We live in a one-story home, so
there were no stairs to contend with. The kitchen tile was another obstacle,
as he slipped on the smooth surface until we put down rubber matting--the
thick kind you use in the garage, that fits together like puzzle pieces. He
could seal-walk on this and the carpeting in the rest of the house until the
last few months.

"A friend had loaned us a small stroller--tiny, in fact, so that Beamer had
to be somewhat stuffed into it. Then I found one on Craigslist and bought it
from a young woman who had used it only once or twice--a really nice
3-wheeler made by Solvit Products. This allowed us to take him for walks again, though the Texas heat (in the 100s a lot lately) restricted walks to early morning or after dusk, when the mosquitoes took over. That afforded us the opportunity to explain DM to people we met along the way who had never heard of the disease.

"Beamer never became incontinent to the point where he needed to be
expressed; he wore diapers for some months because he could not go out the doggie door, though we took him out several times a day. We tried various means of carrying him and in the end just picked him up. He generally let us know when he had to poop by somewhat frantic whining. He actually barked, whined and cried A LOT, as he was not content unless he was in the same room with one of us.

"Beamer was not totally paralyzed at the time of his death. His front legs
were weak, but he could still raise himself a little and swivel around.
Knowing that the eventual outcome would be inability to breathe and/or
swallow, I could not bear to have him come to that point. He was already
suffering anxiety--and thereby raising our anxiety level--by needing to be
with us and having us carry him in and outdoor, and from room to room. He
was beginning to awaken during the night, either to be taken out or just to
be repositioned. My husband fell once on the patio while carrying him in,
which could have caused more damage than the scrape on the arm that he
sustained. We had doggie beds in nearly every room of the house and would
keep a water dish close enough for him to reach. He slept on a bed in our
bedroom so we could hear him and take him out or reposition him if he cried
during the night.

"The mental anguish was a deciding factor in letting Beamer go at this time.
I began searching in June for a vet who would be able to harvest his organs
for the research program at the U of Mo, since I had contacted Dr. Coates and
received the kit back in March. However, without a vet who could/would
perform the necessary necropsy, I felt Beamer's death would be a total
waste. Going back to the Gulf Coast Vet clinic, I found that the doctor who
did his DNA was on maternity leave and may or may not return. I got an
appointment with another vet there, who said he usually declines "that sort
of thing" because it "takes too much time." Now I was getting upset! So he
offered that he WOULD do the necropsy ("Let's see--we're looking at about 6
hours at $115 per hour. . . .")

"At that point I left and emailed Dr. Coates, asking if she knew anyone else
in the area. I then called a vet clinic in Sugar Land, asking for The veterinarian recommended by Dr. Coates. Left a message and faxed the 6 pages of protocol required. Waited for a call. Talked with the vet and again faxed
the protocol. Played phone tag and never got a definite response that he
would do it. Busy man. By this time it was nearly August, when they had told
me at Gulf Coast Vet that a new doctor would be coming on board, one who had worked with Dr. Coates! Called Gulf Coast Vet again and got an appointment with Dr. Vasquez. Received a call that she could not actually perform the euthanasia until she had the Texas license in hand, and she had just taken the test in Austin on Monday of this week. However, Dr. Giovanella was back from maternity leave and would be able to do it. Meanwhile, I had sought out funding for this little project and was given a grant of $250 by the PWCCA, which covered part of the cost.



"My husband Chuck and daughter Katherine were with Beamer and me when he was taken. The staff was wonderful, giving us time and space to say goodbyes and even providing some chicken tidbits as a final treat for my Little B. He went quietly, just falling asleep and drifting away. My only comfort is that he is at peace.

"I just never want to deal with DM again, and really hope that none of the
rescues we have come down with it. But if they do, we will be able to
recognize it earlier."