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R.i.p. Waif


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http://www.dolforums.com.au/topic/201945-is-this-right-the-streets-waif/

Two years ago I found a little dog and took him to the pound. I letterbox dropped and put up posters but nobody claimed him. Canterbury Pound in winter is a godawful place, and it was a nasty wet winter. He got pneumonia. The pound let me have him under duty of care and I kept him crated and separate from the other dogs for six weeks or so, through three rounds of antibiotics and a lot of painkillers. You don't name creatures about to die, so I just called him 'Mate' (c'mon Matey, I promise there's nothing hidden in this peanut butter). Finally his cough resolved enough that the lovely young locum vet (who was truly shocked by the NSW pound system) was game enough to desex, take out six teeth and clean his ears properly, after blood tests showed there was nothing seriously wrong with his system and his heart was as strong as an ox. He was chipped with a real name (Monte, my MIL's choice, I was hoping she'd take him). He was mine.

Then, just when he was about to be advertised through Seniors Rescue, the little monster bit me. Then again a couple of weeks later in similar circumstances - thinking what he had was food and he was keeping it. There was no way this little dog could be around strangers, especially children who might grab back a biscuit or pencil. We've managed him ever since. He very quickly got the name that he responded to - Maggot - due to his joy in writhing and wriggling on his back on our bed, big black eyes in a cloud of white fur. His arthritis was awful and unfixable but he was ok with Meloxicam every day. He slept with Stevie, and he just adored my husband. In fact he was always good with males - groomer didn't need to muzzle him, and vet thought he was a champion - it was just females he bit. Me, my sister (who admits she was an idiot and did the opposite of instructions), and the girl at the pet food place who gave him a treat (now a first-year-out vet who'll ALWAYS listen when warned against giving treats!). It's not that he didn't love us. He'd have a little growl at anyone who came too close to me, and just yesterday tried to protect his beloved Aunty TDierikx from a potentially vicious puppy.

Over the last few months he's been struggling in the cold, even though he had two of the best pyjama outfits ever made - by a lovely DOLer, in blue camo and fluoro pirate skulls. He needed to be picked up out of bed and taken out to wee, before his legs would get working enough to get him to breakfast. Then he was fine for the day, especially if there was a sunny patch to lie in or a warm lap or best of all someone home sick to cuddle up to in bed. Then dinner then more lap then bedtime with Stevie. We had a pillow or mat in every room so he could stagger from room to room and keep an eye on us, if it was a more active day.

Sadly his bent and broken front paddle legs could no longer compensate for his floppy wasted hind legs. He face-planted a few times over the weekend and couldn't arrange his legs to wee properly, let alone poo. He wouldn't try to climb up just one step to get BBQ chicken this morning, even though he really wanted it. The vet said he could see in his eyes how it was his time - I'd kinda hoped there was a miracle cure, but I'd seen the look in his eyes too. He had a mint slice this afternoon, lots of tummy rubs lying in the sun, and a good bark at a cheeky dog in the vet waiting room, and is now at peace.

So to answer my question from two years ago, I think I did the right thing. Maggot had a great 'last few weeks', two years of them. He was relaxed and peaceful (and loved) at the end. And he was respected as well, by all who met this tough little old man.

Vale the Waif, my little Maggot-man.

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What a happy little man in the life you gave him....right up to his final visit in the vet's waiting room. He must've looked a treat in those amazing PJs. Of course, you did the right thing....you made this possible for him. Lucky Maggot to have found you. He's at peace now, with no more discomfort that's too much for him.

My heart goes out to you.....you'll miss this lovely lad.

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Thanks Lillypilly and Mita.

My only what-if is whether he would have preferred his old wandering life, but he didn't seem to miss it and adapted to being an inside dog very quickly. When he was still walking a bit (then carried a bit then walking a bit) we went past the end of the street we think he came from, and he stopped and looked and pondered - but then happily kept walking with us.

Cynthia, if you still look at DOL - this is the thread I threatened a few months ago. I said you were an inspiration!

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Thanks Lillypilly and Mita.

My only what-if is whether he would have preferred his old wandering life, but he didn't seem to miss it and adapted to being an inside dog very quickly. When he was still walking a bit (then carried a bit then walking a bit) we went past the end of the street we think he came from, and he stopped and looked and pondered - but then happily kept walking with us.

Cynthia, if you still look at DOL - this is the thread I threatened a few months ago. I said you were an inspiration!

I did the same thing a few years ago with little Grandpa...Pa for short....

He had 4 months of love and knew that we were here to give him the bestest time in his final ÿears"....

very rewarding for him and me.

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Katdogs - your tribute to Maggot is spot on... he was an awesome little guy, and your love and care gave him what was probably the best 2 years of his entire life.

Vale my little Mate - you will live long in my memories.

T.

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