Dandy and Paris

One question I keep getting when people find out we have a new puppy is, "what does Dempsey think of him?" Dempsey is pretty aloof at this point. I don't think he has quite figured out just what Dandy is at this point. He now realizes that he is not a threat, but when he does his little high pitched puppy bark and growl, Dempsey isn't quite sure what to make of it.

Dandy isn't too lonely though. Just a block away is his sister. Our friends Barb and Greg also got a puppy from the same litter. I thought you might enjoy some pictures of Dandy and his sister, Paris. Paris is the one with the purple collar - - Dandy is the little bitty one.

MEET THE NEWEST MEMBER OF THE HALE HOUSEHOLD

We have adopted a new member into the Hale household! Please take a moment and acquaint yourself with Dandy. He is six weeks old and we brought him home today. He is a Standard Poodle and is currently weighing in at a whopping 1.7 pounds. (He will eventually weigh about 50-60 pounds when full grown.) He and Dempsey are getting along well, though Dempsey isn't quite sure what to make of him just yet. He is worn out from a big day and sleeping soundly at the moment.

SAD

We just got home from picking Dempsey up from the vet. He had to be sedated today to get more x-rays and a biopsy done. $350 later, we brought our dog home with the diagnosis of canine lymphoma. In short, our beloved boxer dog Dempsey has cancer.

Our vet said our only options at this point are:

A) take him to the U of I vet school and spend $4,000 - $5,000 in chemotherapy that may or may not work, and could possibly actually shorten his life.

B) continue to give him prednisone and the cough suppressant that he has been getting and let nature run its course until his quality of life becomes an issue.

We chose to do that latter. Our veterinarian said that if was hard to tell how much time he had left because the tumor has been so fast growing, yet seems to have been temporarily slowed by the meds he has gotten the past few days. She estimates anywhere from a month to a year, though a year was the absolute best we could hope for.

Dempsey has been with Chris and me since our first anniversary. He has lived in all three of the houses we have owned, and was there when we brought both our children home from the hospital. He sleeps in his dog bed on the floor next to my side of the bed every night. Every day when we come home, even if we have only been gone a short period of time, he still wags his entire backside for us because he is so happy to see us. He is obedient and smart and loyal and I can't believe he's dying.

Today I am sad.

Aleita & Dempsey -- Aleita had just come home from the hospital after having her tonsils removed. Dempsey seemed to sense that she needed him. In this picture, she is watching TV while using him as a pillow.

Dempsey

Aleita & Dempsey, January 2008

I'm worried about Dempsey. Our beloved boxer dog will be ten at the end of this month, and his health has taken a serious turn for the worse lately. He has a bad case of bronchitis that he just can't seem to shake. He has had two vet visits and a few different kinds of pills, yet his cough and wheezing continue to get worse. When he tries to bark, all that comes out is a gaspy ruff. He forever sounds like he is trying to hack up a fur ball because of his constant coughing and gagging. After running across the yard, he sounds like an old man with late stage emphysema who has just climbed a flight of stairs (for those MTA folks reading, you will immediately think of Mr. Merriman, I'm sure.)

Dempsey is still very active and is eating well, so that is good. The day that he doesn't want to run and chase his ball in the yard will be the telltale sign for me that things are going to seriously go downhill. I have never known a dog that loved to chase a ball that way that one does. When he was a pup, he would play until your arm was tired and you refused to throw the ball anymore. As an old dog, he will chase it several times, then lay down for a rest....but after a few minutes, he brings the ball back, ready for more. He still gobbles up his food each morning and evening, and is more than happy to clean up any wayward food that falls off the table during dinner. For this, I am grateful. But though his activity is high and eating is fine, his bronchial symptoms continue to worsen.

Chris and I actually had "the talk" that I have been dreading this morning: at what point do you decide that you have to put on the brakes and say, "enough is enough" when it comes to vet treatment? When do you resolve that you just can't spend any more money in medical care for your much loved animal companion? I know that some people would say that there is no price too high for ensuring that a pet has any medical treatment in order to extend its life as long as possible (so long as the animal was not in pain, of course....though I am sure there are people who would keep an animal alive who was hurting for the selfish reason of not wanting to let it go yet.) I actually know someone right now who is paying a few thousand dollars for chemo treatments for their dog. However, we both agreed that we are not willing to go into debt to provide care for an animal that may not even be successful. We will do what we can, within reason, but can't justify spending tremendous amounts of money for an aging animal without any guarantees of success.

To top things off, in the past few months, we have spent about $1,100 in bills for Dempsey. He had two dental surgeries that amounted to about $900, and his treatments for his bronchitis have been about $200 so far, just for vet visits and medicine. The next step will be Xrays and then God-only-knows-what. I have tried to explain to Dempsey that for what he has cost us the past few months, he at least owes us another few years. He hacks at me in return.

This morning as I was getting ready for work in my bedroom, Maggie was sitting on the floor petting Dempsey. He was wheezing and gagging, and she said to me, "Dempsey doesn't feel very good, does he?" I said, "no sweetie, he doesn't." She then asked, "when is he going to get better?" I truthfully said, "I don't know, Maggie. I hope soon, but he may not get better either." We then talked for a little bit about the fact that Dempsey was sick and didn't seem to be getting any better, and that the medicine the doctor gave him doesn't seem to be helping. She looked at me morosely, and said, "Is Dempsey going to die?" I told her that I didn't know, and that I hoped not, but only God knew that for sure. She looked a little dejected, but didn't say anything and just continued to pet Dempsey. I then walked in the bathroom to continue getting ready.

I ran the blow dryer on my hair for a few minutes, then when I turned it off, I heard her talking softly from the bedroom. "Are you talking to me?" I asked her. "No," she replied, "I'm talking to God. I'm asking him to get Dempsey better." Talk about a lump in my throat.....

I hope God's not too busy today to hear a few prayers about an old dog that one family isn't ready to let go of just yet.

(wo)man's best friend

My dog Dempsey has gone from a little pup to an old man right before my eyes. The process of his aging has all happened gradually, of course, over the period of the last nine years. It seems strange to look at pictures of Dempsey that were taken several years ago, and compare them to him now. Gone is his black mask, which has been replaced by white. Even his reddish-brown coat is quite salted with white hairs.

Dempsey is my beloved Boxer dog - my child before my actual children came along, and many days, the best behaved of the bunch. My husband and I got Dempsey when we had been married only a year - - our one-year anniversary present to ourselves. He was my constant companion over the course of many nights when my husband, Chris, was working second-shift hours (3 - 11PM) for the first several years we were married. For Chris, he brought comfort through the extra security he provided to me. For me though, Dempsey has been so much more than just my guard dog. In college, I had become used to being surrounded by lots of people all the time. Being married fresh out of college, I found out just how lonely it can be when you and your spouse work opposite shifts. Dempsey provided companionship that I so desperately needed while Chris was gone to work every night.

When we brought our older daughter, Maggie, home from the hospital, Dempsey sniffed and sniffed at her, trying to figure out what this mysterious creature was that we had brought into our home. Every time she would let out a noise or move around, he was on his feet with his head poked into her bassinet to sniff at her again. For the first several weeks of her life, he got little rest, until he became more accustomed to this strange new addition to his life. As she got older and more mobile, I was impressed and relieved at how tolerant he was with her as she would sit on him, poke at him, and tug on his ears.

Three years later, we brought our younger daughter, Aleita, home from the hospital and placed her in that same bassinet. Curiously, Dempsey poked his head in and took a sniff. He then looked at me, let out a snort, and turned and walked out of the room. If I dog could shake his head, I think he would have done it - -it was almost as if he wanted to say, "oh come on. . .must we really do this again? Have you learned nothing?"

Maggie is now 6, and Aleita, 3. He is extremely tolerant and protective of both the children. Try as they both might though, Dempsey remains fiercely loyal to me. When Maggie was four, she tried to get him to sleep in her room with her (he sleeps on a dog bed on my side of the bed on the floor.) We consented to try it, and took his bed into her room. For three nights in a row, we would leave him there with her after stories were read, prayers said, and kisses and hugs given. Each night though, he would dutifully lay there until he heard me go into my bedroom, at which point he would come lay on the floor in the spot where his dog bed had been, and sleep through the night. It disappointed Maggie to realize that he wanted to sleep by me, rather than her. I found it impossible to explain to a four-year old the bond that existed between Dempsey and me.

As much as I hate to admit, or even think about it, Dempsey isn't getting any younger. He has more telltale signs of his aging, other than just his white hairs. He has always been an avid ball chaser - - he loves to fetch his ball for you when thrown across the yard. In his younger days, he would play this game with you until you grew tired of it and finally walked away. These days, after three or four chases though, he lays down out in the yard with the ball still in his mouth to catch his breath and cool off. He used to love to go for long walks with me, but these days, he is panting and slowing down before we have even covered a mile. He also is having a little more trouble with his hearing these days. It used to be that if you dropped a crumb of food on the floor, he could hear it from two rooms away. Now, he sometimes doesn't hear me when I bring him in from outside until I haved called his name two or three times. He is also of late having some trouble with digestive upset with his food - but I'll spare you those details.

I am not naive about where things are headed. Life expectancy for Boxers is 8 -10 years (Dempsey just turned 9 in June.) Our veterinarian reminds me that he has known Boxers that were well taken care of to live to be 12 - 14 years old. I really hope that to be the case. I know that there are folks who could never understand the deep attachment that some people form with their animals. But for me, Dempsey is like a member of my family, and I just can't even imagine a time when I won't roll over in bed and see him laying there on the floor beside me each morning.

I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat. For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that. ~W. Dayton Wedgefarth