My 6 y/o cat Caitlyn was admitted to hospital yesterday (Mon – 11/19) and has been diagnosed with Pancreatitis. I know little about this affliction on the feline side and since Caitlyn is my very first pet of any kind, I am beside myself with worry, exasperated by lack of sleep. Caitlyn won’t eat/drink and is in horrible pain.

I’ve been blessed because Caitlyn has been so wonderfully healthy and active consistently since she came home for the first time as a kitten that this quick on-set of illness has leveled me. She won’t be home for Thanksgiving and I guess this post is just an “emotio-vent” rambling for me.

I am praying she will pull through this, she is very tough. Another constant reminder that there “ain’t no time to hate” or fight with our loved-ones. Let the posts of the Dog Corner represent a diary of feelings, the Good, the Bad and the…Pancreatic. Rejoice and give thanks for what we have, every day, because nothing lasts.

Our pets are a blessing to us, a gift from above and the closest thing to a child I will ever have. I could never understand the human/pet bond (outside the obvious) before now. Caitlyn was just someone else I took for granted. I know I am not ready to read Rescuing Sprite yet as it may just cause a breakdown but it does feel good to know I am not alone and the book is there for me when I am ready.

Tom in NJ

Mark – We can identify with you concerning rescuing and then losing a pet. We recently had to put down our Yellow Lab, Kira, due to a case of thyroid cancer, which unknown to us or the rescue group at the time we adopted her, our new vet figured she probably already had and was most likely the reason she was turned loose by her previous owners. That dog really showed how grateful she haing a new home, and was one of the best friends of a four-legged type that we’ve ever had. She was always near one of us, showed her love, and easily adapted into our home. We only had her for about 2 years, as you did with Sprite, and even through all of her pain ;of the cancer and the degenerative stages, she always kept her friendly demeanor and never once ever snapped at any one of us or a visitor. I haven’t even gotten the courage to read your book yet, but I cry every time I hear you talk about your experiences with Sprite. Bless you and your family for going the adoption/rescue route.

Jerry from AZ

Bucky was a Brittainy Spaniel that I rescued from my husbands family. My father-in-law would buy puppies with the intention of training them to hunt. Bucky was just one in a long line of forgotten dogs that he didn’t have the time for. My father-in-law really hated Bucky though because he was gunshy. He wasn’t allowed in the house even on the bitterest, coldest nights because of his white fur. I fell in love with Bucky and I just untied him one day and took him home and never brought him back. I lived with my grandparents at the time and my grandfather kept saying that he didn’t want anymore dogs. Well, when I grew up and got my first apartment and I couldn’t take Bucky with me. So Grandpa and Grandma kept him. Grandpa died in 2003. Then Grandma lost her vision in 2004. Then Bucky was diagnosed with congestive heart disease also in 2004.
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Our First dog was a Golden Retriever named JR We got him within a week of getting our new townhouse. He was already 6 months old, the runt of the littler and almost snow white. Bad for him because his mother and father were both champion show dogs but just fine for me and my wife, we just wanted a new friend. We had no plans at all to show him or make him do anything that he didn’t want to do. His breeder called him Junior so we just took the abbreviation and called him J.R. He had some growing pains caused by the rapid long bone growth resulting from a high protein diet. Plus at first he simply would not eat. My wife and I would be on the floor in front of him hand feeding him burgers and rice. After a bit he settled in and out grew his growing pains and started to eat (and eat). The runt soon grew to a very large 115lbs. and stayed almost snow white. He was a simply gorgeous dog that while not “show quality” was maybe the best looking dog ever. He had a wonderful temperament as well. He was never one to bark, in fact it took us months to teach him. The first time he “spoke” he scared the daylights out of himself.
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Earl Green was a rescued Greyhound. Rescued by my Wife and me. Earl had ran and ran and ran. When we brought him home the first day he was very thin (ribs showing) with crate scars on his hind legs and tummy. Over time, he filled out and soon became a wonderful dog. We all loved him. He was one of us. On November 9th, Earl jumped off our front steps (something he had done millions of times) and reptured two discs in his back. His entire back half was instantly paralized. He pulled himself around with his front legs, screaming in pain. We rushed him to the Pet ER and the doctors said the only thing they could do was a 5K operation with no guarentee. He was in fantastic pain. They started him on a morphene drip to help, but we knew what had to be done. With my wife and me holding his head and gently brushing his legs, his panting slowly stopped as his big black eyes slowly closed.I gently wiped his tears, and closed his long mouth. I whispered, “It’s ok Bud. I’ll see you soon. Wait for me, I’ll be there.” We had Earl only three years. He was six years old. I feel the pain everyday, almost constant. We had Earl cremated. He lives in our hearts every hour of the day. Nothing will be the same without him. He was one in a million.

Thanks Mark..
Steve from MD

I met Lobo in March 1993, his mother was a pure timber wolf meant to be bread with her counterpart when a local interloper jumped the fence etc.. He looked like a little bear cub, the last of the siblings to be given away before a more desired litter. I was an under cover officer in a drug unit. Lobo, spanish for wolf, was a wonderful part of the family, not fully domestic and very unique. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He was beautiful and regal. I trained him to run next to a bicycle with a lead. He pulled me off a few times but eventually we got the hang of it. He was with me through two painful divorces. The only thing he really wanted was my attention. One year I was back on patrol when I crossed a local drug dealer who had a strong reason to get back at me through my dog. A few days alter.. Lobo, at 9 years old, over the course of a day and a half began having seizures closer and closer together until at the vets office he wouldn’t come out of one. I had to make the decision to let him go to a better place. He died in my arms. I don’t know if he was poisoned or not and maybe he saved my life. I will always have a special place in my heart for him.

JB from NE