Wednesday, 5 September 2018

Why I've been gone a while

RIP my beautiful loving & loyal friend
So, I've been gone a while.. I'm sure some of you were wondering where I popped off to... My absence came suddenly and can be directly attributed to the beautiful little soul in the picture above.

A little over three months ago my beloved Wrigley was diagnosed with a spinal cord, nerve sheath tumor. It was large and due to it's location inoperable. We were told chemotherapy was not effective on this type of cancer and to take him home and love him with a palliative care regime and enjoy the time we had left.  

Wrigley came to us as a rescue in August of 2008. Sadly as with a lot of second children we were remiss at taking lots of photos. And this is now the only one I have left after several phone upgrades and failures have gradually stolen the few we had away.

Ten short years and one week later, he would be gone. Joining his beloved older "brother" Jag at the bridge.

Right from the beginning this little monkey stole a special piece of my heart

He was naughty...  and I loved it! He would steal my underwear from the bathroom as I showered and drag it into the backyard. I can't tell you how many times I found a bra half buried (usually one cup above ground & one under) out there. He terrorised Jag, chewed up shoes (only the most expensive full leather ones, thank you!), chased birds, killed lizards and when he got older became quite the proficient possum hunter.. I loved it all.. Well not the killing lizards & possums part.. but you get the picture.. he had personality in spades. He "Pepe le Pewed"  (four legged bounce in excitement.. just like the cartoon character) around the backyard on a regular basis.. I didn't think there was anything in the world that could possibly be more adorable!

We don't know what mix of breeds he was but clearly some sort of terrier was in there.. he was a true hunter and there was no stopping him. In his prime we had to lock him indoors at night to save the local possum population. We used to joke if there was an apocalypse, Wrigley would be the only one in our house to survive. One of the blessings of his slow down, was that his hunting days were over and that allowed us to let him out at night, which he loved.. That's not to say he didn't try to hunt.. He just didn't have the speed to actually catch anything. Small mercies. :)

He had a favourite chair and it was where you could find him most of the time. In various positions.

If someone else got in it, you either got the stink eye or he just hopped on with you, no matter that he didn't fit.

For a change, once in a while he liked the couch too (by now you'll have noticed as a dog family, every piece of furniture in our house is covered by blankets to go some miniscule way to keeping the soft furnishings clean and somewhat hair free. Ha! You can't have anything "good" in a dog house!) 

Especially if it meant a snuggle with me.

Or his brother

A nap together was heaven. :))... For both of us. :) 

 Walks were a highlight of the day. If he could be on a walk all day, he would.

At the dog park he would run and run and run until he flopped down in front of you, unable to run anymore.

He had the most ridiculous snaggle tooth grin, emphasised by the missing front tooth, lost in the great possum hunt of 2013.

But how could you not love this sweet face. He always had a bit of a comical look because he had Horner's syndrome (possibly attained in another hunt or rough play with his brothers) which meant his left eye pupil was permanently constricted and gave him some mild facial paralysis which made him look like he had bells palsy sometimes. The only restriction this condition created was the requirement for eye drops every day and the occasional lopsided face when the sporadic paralysis kicked in.

He was such a scallywag.. A scaredy cat about some things and so brave about others. Ever curious, when all the other dogs in the neighbourhood were hiding from fireworks.. Wrigley was running to the back deck to watch. He found them fascinating and lots of excited squealing and tail wagging ensued. 

Most of all, he loved other dogs and when we bought Cubbie home in 2012, he became a proud big brother.

Wrigley was so excited to play. 

Bonus content on youtube. Wrigley, Baby Cubbie and the rope play fail. 

He always wanted to sleep under the covers in the human bed (always with a foot out for temperature control :) ) .. and of course we let him.

Then one day at the beginning of the year, he stopped jumping on the bed. We thought he was just getting old and couldn't make the admittedly high jump to our king size. He was 9 after all and they have to start slowing down sometime right? Everything else was the same, he was still chasing birds, playing and taking us on walks (the pulling! Oy!) and getting on the other furniture.. He just needed a hand to get on the bed.

Then on a day in May, his already pigeon toed back legs started to really turn in an alarming direction. He really didn't really look like he had control of his foot placement and I immediately made an appointment at the vet. They thought he had a pinched nerve in his back, common in older long bodied breeds, gave us some anti-inflammatories and sent us home. They worked for a week and we were back at the vets. By now his tail had stopped working completely. There is nothing sadder than a dog that can't wag it's tail.

Now they thought it was spinal bone spurs, and took an xray to confirm. Nope, no spurs, it was a mystery. We switched from anti-inflammatories to steroids and the weekend required to be drug free to allow the switch was awful. My stoic boy was in obvious distress. I gave him a double dose of the allowed pain killers to keep him calm and it was down to the specialist for an MRI. We thought we were going to get a fixable neuro disorder diagnosis.. The revelation that he had a 6 centimetre nerve sheath tumor in his lower spine and spinal cord was a complete shock. Obviously, it would be inoperable. Well not completely inoperable, but in removing it we would be making him a paraplegic. How could we do that to such an active dog. Chemo and radiation weren't an option with this kind of cancer either they just weren't effective and it would not be ethical to proceed. The options were limited to immediate euthanasia or palliative care until his symptoms progressed to a point where his quality of life was compromised too much. I couldn't bear the thought of losing him there and then and the vet assured me he could have a good quality of life for a couple of months, until the tumor advanced to a point where the steroids wouldn't work. I vowed I would help him to transition when the time came. I'd had other dogs, I'd done this before, I could do it again.

So Mini's took a back seat and once the palliative drug regime started to improve his gait, we took several shortish walks a day.

Visited the beach (luckily it's at the end of our street, so a manageable walk.)

Dipped our toes in the water.

And sniffed the dune grass... The beach has such great smells :)

Wrigley loved other dogs and the sight of one on a walk was super exciting. (Note: Pointer foot raised even with wobbly legs. :) Such a sweetheart. )

He took naps with his brother from another mother. "I've got your back, Buddy"

And they sat on the deck dog bed together enjoying the morning air and guarding the yard from birds. Because that's what you do with the ones you love.

We ate barbeque chicken or kangaroo meat every night.. Two spoons of Manuka Honey every morning... Liver treats and Ice Cream as required. They were required a lot ;)

We still slept under the covers with a little help from Dad.

And even as the cancer advanced, he still sat in his favourite chair.

At the beginning of August, Wrigley regained the slightest use of his tail. He was able to move it up and down and the slightest bit side to side. I was so happy to see this tail movement! I knew it meant he was wagging furiously on the inside.

See his little wag on my instagram. :) 

But I was also confused.... this was not what the vet said would happen, he was going to deteriorate not improve. I rang the specialist and it struck me that he was surprised that Wrigley was still with us, let alone doing so well. He went and checked the biopsy results from Wrigley's tumour and announced it wasn't a nerve sheath tumor at all, it was bone cancer of the spine that had invaded the spinal cord cavity. This cancer was slower to grow, and treatable by chemotherapy. But we had lost two precious months. 

We considered our options, if we knew this at the beginning, we probably would have given him chemo, as it can have quite good results with bone cancer. But those lost two months were critical and now we had to contend with a cancer that was very prone to spread, as opposed to the nerve sheath tumor which isn't. It was very likely that in those two months it had, and that was confirmed two weeks later when we were told it had moved to his lungs. He had been very lethargic for a day or two and we thought he might have picked up an infection (common in dogs on long term steroid use) but an Xray confirmed our worst fears. Bone Cancer in the lungs. Our local vets who love Wrigley said he still had some quality time left. They had observed him while he was in for the day for the Xray and said he was so interested in everything. took every treat they offered, wanted to meet every new visitor to the back office, human or animal and jumped up to go out for potty breaks. Basically they said. He's not ready yet. In a tragic irony, his original spinal tumour was not bothering him at all.

Looking back, I wish I'd made the hard decision then and there. Because two more good weeks with a marked slow down in energy were not enough to compensate for the end when it came. 

To be honest we were blinded by our love for him and in observing his little fighting spirit. He really was fighting this beast right up until the end. He never lost his zest for life or his appetite until the very last day. I just couldn't give up on him when he was fighting so hard.

We took him home and the walks got shorter and we often took him at night. He liked to look for possums on the power lines and it was cooler with less distractions and traffic. Pulling became strolling, strolling became waddling, but he still wanted to go. :) 

On Saturday he was sunning himself in the yard quite a bit.

I decided to take him for a little walk in our street... I had mistakenly said the word "Walk" and the ears went up and he waddled down the hall expectantly.

Out we went. But when we got to the end of the driveway I thought, hmm his mind is writing checks his body can't cash. He didn't really seem to have a walk in him. But then he saw some birds further up the street and started trotting up the road. I mean, it was a fast walk. Then he got the scent of a dead possum on the footpath and dragged me over for a smell. Honestly, it was the fastest I'd seen him move in at least 10 days. But, you know.. possums.. his drug of choice. :) 

After a good sniff, we were walking home and just as we were approaching the house two doors down from ours, the door opened and out ran Patches. 

Now Patches, was Wrigley's neighbourhood nemesis. He and Patches have been barking at each other through the fence for years. My dog sitter (who is a much better dog walker than I ie: she can actually get them to obey her) told me that in all the years she'd been walking him, Patches was the only dog she couldn't get him past without a scene. :)

Well at the sight of Patches, Wrigley took off, and was barking and snapping through the bars of the metal fence surrounding Patches' yard. He literally pulled me over there with strength that I hadn't seen since his diagnosis... I knew this wasn't good for him (the vet told us to keep him not too active for fear of a rupture) but he would not stop and I could not pull him away. Eventually Patches' owner, a sweet old lady, got him under control and I managed to get Wrigley down to our driveway. He was pooped. He sat down in the driveway for about 5 minutes before he mustered the strength to walk inside.  He clearly had overexerted himself in telling off Patches and sadly this was the beginning of a very rapid end. 

We came inside and he was breathing heavy, he had a drink and later he ate his dinner but he didn't recover his energy from the walk. I gave him his usual pain killers and steroids and then an extra pain killer for good measure. And he laid with Cubbie on the bed.

My husband tried to get him to eat some pizza crust late in the evening and he put it in his mouth but then he spat it out... He loved Pizza crust.. this was not good. We told ourselves we would call our Vet over when they opened in the morning.

He didn't improve overnight and at 7am I had my husband carry him to the living room. I put a dog bed on the floor for him but he couldn't get comfortable. I sat with him patting him and soothing him with a slow rub between the eyes (he always loved that) while we waited for the Vets to open at 8am. 

At 7:30 I could see he was really not doing well, his breathing was laboured and there was a look in his eyes I'll never forget, and I said to my husband, I don't think he is going to make it until the Vet opens, try and call them now. We couldn't get through. My husband kept trying. 

It was agony waiting for 8am. Hubby was ringing and ringing to no avail. 

Then, the clock ticked over to 8am, right on the dot.. And my darling Wrigley stretched, flopped over into my lap, let out a huge sigh and died. Right at 8am... I couldn't believe it... I had promised I would ease his transition when the time came and make it easy for him and I failed.. I failed him in his hour of need... Miserably and totally. It will be my everlasting regret that this beautiful little soul, that loved me so dearly was let down so terribly by me. 

Some of you will think I've given you all too much detail of his ending, and I should remember the good times.. and I do remember them fondly, but I have to own my failure and learn from it. I owe it to him to admit my fault. And I hope that any of you with fur babies will learn from my mistake and Wrigley's suffering too. Don't do what I did. One extra week of decent days isn't worth a bad end. Don't think you have time. Looking back on even that last night, we thought we had time.. perhaps we had become used to his limitations and the way he rallied back from setbacks. We really didn't think until that last half an hour that he would die before we could get the vet. Looking back there were signs, (his gums turned white early in the morning, a sure sign of an internal bleed) but we didn't "see" them in the moment. In any case it was too late to do anything about it and that is the true failure. Why did we keep him going after the lung cancer diagnosis.. We knew he couldn't beat it. The hard to swallow answer is, we did it for us.. not for him. We were selfish, we couldn't face the inevitable. We have no excuse, we are experienced pet owners. We have had to make these decisions before. But, sometimes you bring baggage into these decisions from pets past. I know my husband always felt we sent Jag to the bridge too early and I think he bought that baggage with him into Wrigleys battle. I loved Wrigley so much I was willing to go along when he was saying he's not ready yet.. I wanted to believe it. What I'm saying is, be vigilant with your feelings. Even the most experienced pet owner can have their common sense and better judgement clouded by love and denial. 

I'll spare you the details but it turns out he did have a rupture.. That last altercation with Patches had fatal results.. But it was just the straw that broke the camels back, so to speak. He was teetering on the edge and just needed one unfortunate event to tip him over. 

That we let him get to that point was our downfall. 

I know you are not supposed to have favourites.. and I have loved all my dogs & cats.. but some of them just steal a little bit more of your heart than the others do.. because they are so special. Wrigley was one of those ones for me. 

He was my dog and I was his human.. I will miss him forever.


  1. Hello Sam,
    I am so, so very sorry for your loss. I cannot imagine the pain you are going through. You see it as having failed him in the end, but I am sure he loved every minute you spent with him and felt protected and safe with the people who not only loved him the post, but, I am sure he loved the most. I do hope you start thinking of the great memories and all the joy he brought you...but for now, tell the story and get the hurt and sadness out any way you can. If you need to purge, your blog family is here for you.
    Big hug

    1. Thank you so much Giac. Your lovely words are a great comfort to me. I do hope he was happy to be at home at the end.

  2. I'm sorry for your loss. I know nothing I can say will make it better but just know we're all out here and happy to listen and commiserate. He was home with you and happy and knew you loved him and that's the best thing you could have done for him.

    1. Thanks so much Sheila. The mini community is so kind and I really felt I could pour my heart out on this blog and you all would understand and not judge. Thank you for your kindness.

  3. Sam, sending you lots of hugs. I have been there.... our little dog we grew up with... well, we should have had her euthanased sooner and she was in bad shape when she died. It was the worst experience of my life and I’ll never in a million years forget it nor forgive myself. The upside is that when it was time for our little girl Tilly to go, it was easier to make that decision. There are still things I regret. I think when you love them so much, you will always think “I didn’t try hard enough; I should’ve done more; I should’ve known”. All those things. It’s very hard. I wish we could talk to them so that they could tell us what was wrong. And I am sure there isn’t anything I can say to comfort you. But it reassures me that others treat their pets like we do - with all the love in the world. Dogs are the best people.

    1. Thanks for the hugs Shannon :) I know you know. The loss of your Tilly broke your heart. It is so hard to know if you are doing the right thing isn’t it? I would look into his eyes sometimes and try to read his mind. What are you thinking my love? I would ask myself. If only they could tell us.

  4. Oh Sam, I'm so sorry! Don't be too hard on yourself dear. With animals such decisions are so hard to make. I've been there too, and also have felt guilty (in my case, for my cat). He was at home, with you, and felt safe, and that's so important. And, you gave him the best life he could have, don't forget that. Big hugs, Linda

    1. Thanks Linda. I hope he loved his life with us. Of course I always felt guilty leaving both our dogs at home alone when I worked long hours. Dogs are pack animals after all. They want their pack around. Luckily my hubby and I often had different schedules so it wasn’t as often as it could have been. But Wrigley, given the choice, mostly chose my company. I hope he wasn’t too sad when I was gone. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if our animals could go everywhere we can.

  5. Hello, Sam - I am so very sorry for the loss of your wonderful pet. The photographs and your lovely words show your love for Wrigley in so many ways. Although you feel that you somehow let him down at the end, I think that your presence and your touch would have been a great comfort to him; he spent his last moments with one he loved and one, I'm sure, whose love he never doubted. Cherish his memory and the beautiful photos, and please know that all your blog friends commiserate with you during this very sad time.

    1. Thanks so much for your kind words Marjorie. It is a small comfort that I was home with him. It could have panned out so differently if it was a workday. For that I can be grateful.

  6. That was a beautiful and heart-rending post. It is always so hard to make that final decision; our fur babies can't tell us what they want or need. It's sad that he suffered a bit near the end, but it sounds as though, from his perspective, you gave him a great last day on earth, including some wonderful possum scent. Would he have traded that for the choice of being euthanized sooner? Who can say. I think I've second-guessed myself on nearly every animal we've had--too soon? Too late? All we can do is love them and try to do our best for them. He was a lucky dog to have such loving and caring humans. I hope, in time, your pain eases. You shared some wonderful memories of him. He clearly made your life richer, as you did his. Hugs.

    1. Deb! You can comment:) Thank you so much for your lovely caring words. It is so hard and it is comforting to hear that others struggle with the same dilemma. It makes me feel a little less of a horrible person and a little bit more human. I do have a little chuckle when I think of that last day and the dead possum. It’s almost as if the universe put it there for him.. the master possum hunter needed one last sniff. :)

  7. Rest in sweet peace Wrigley. You are somewhere better and pain free now. Sam, in time, your heartache will heal and only sweet happy memories will remain. Sending hugs and comfort you and your husband.

    1. Thanks Carrie. It is a great relief that any suffering he went through is over now. It’s just clouded in my selfish grief. I hope he is running around, restored to his prime, where ever he is, playing with his big brother Jag. :)

  8. Hi Sam. Reading your heart-felt tribute to Wrigley was very moving! I can feel the BIG LOVE which you and your husband still feel for your Extra Special four-legged friend. "he was your dog, and you were his human". YOU Greatly Enriched his life and you acted in his best interest when you brought him back home to let him live out the balance of his time left, with the humans whom he LOVED the MOST; a decision which in my opinion, you should never, ever feel remorse.
    May GOD bless, comfort and heal your broken heart.


    1. Thank you Elizabeth, you are too kind. It was BIG LOVE indeed. That is a perfect description. I know in my heart he had a good life with us. A life that he deserved of course. I’m sure over time I will make peace with the fact that his ending wasn’t one he deserved, but perhaps he wouldnt have had it any other way. He did, after all, leave at the exact time of the vet opening. In my mind I imagine that perhaps he wanted to spare us that last decision. His final act of adoration.

  9. I was visiting My Miniature Madness and poking around her list of blogs and began reading those that had posted recently, and I had to read why you hadn't posted for a while and I was moved to reach out to you and say how sorry I am for your loss and pain and I understand. We lost our dog--I can't even tell you what day now--six weeks ago? After the 4th. In the morning he was fine and by the end of the day he was gone. Long story shortened, he died of a twisted stomach. There was no way to save him. It all happened so fast and my husband didn't have the choice or the option to go home and think about what he wanted to do with Boone. When he saw the X-ray of his swollen belly, he knew that Boone wouldn't survive, so he ended his suffering. He was a german short hair pointer/ weimaraner cross and was only 4 years old. He stole socks, underwear--always mine--caps--whatever was close not to bury it, but to trade for a treat. I feel awful for your loss. It is a terrible loss, but we only do our best. Perhaps Wrigley had his last adventure. He passed in your lap where he felt safe and loved peaceful. We've been told that there was nothing we could have done to prevent Boone's twisted stomach, but I still wonder what we did wrong that day? Should we have taken him to vet earlier? I am so sorry for your pain and your loss; Wrigley was loved and cared for and sounds like a really awesome dog that you will tell stories about for a long time, like Boone, a really special boy.

    1. Oh Ann, I’m so sorry for the loss of your Boone. He sounds like a rascal. His trading for treats made me smile :) What is their obsession with our underwear lol. It is awful when they leave us suddenly as your Boone did. It’s so shocking and you are so unprepared. Your husband absolutely did the right thing for him, terrible decision that it is. I’ve heard that twisted stomach is quite common in deep chested breeds. It’s just their anatomy. It’s one of those random things that happens to some and not to others. We ask ourselves if there was anything we could have done to prevent Wrigleys cancer, did we feed him the right diet etc.. I think it’s natural to ask yourself this stuff. I’m sure Boone knew he was much loved.

  10. Yours and Wrigley's is a beautiful love story. Those of us who love and have such intimate bonds with the animals in our lives know exactly how special it is and how incredibly hard it is to lose them. I know you are so sad, and my heart aches for you.
    I think it's a natural thing to hold out hope and give them every last moment of time we can. We can never know the future, all we can do is make the best choice with every moment, and that is what you did. Learning from our experiences makes us better able to judge similar circumstances in the future, and with that we can make different choices. You did the best you could with Wrigley, and he knows that.
    Thank you for sharing what you've been through over the past months. I know how shocked you were to get his diagnosis, and how emotional it has been helping him through. It reminds all of us to pay attention to the signs, get the very best care when needed, and to make each moment with our fur babies special ones. You're in my thoughts and Wrigley's struggle has not been in vein.

    1. Thank you Jodi. You always know exactly the right thing to say my friend. Thanks so much for being so patient with Me and our swap. I’m eternally grateful. Won’t be long now. I promise.:) (Hugs)

  11. Oh Sam, I'm sitting here weeping.
    I can identify so much with what you've gone through. Before I talk about me, I want to tell you not to beat yourself up over Wrigley, because he's not blaming you and what might seem clear to you in hindsight was not obvious at the time. You made the right choices. If you could ask him, he would choose to do it all the same way again.
    Of six Great Danes, Attila was my favourite. Not only that, she was my once in a lifetime great dog love. I believe that if one is very lucky, you get to experience that kind of bond with a dog and it must be one of the greatest privileges in life. I never dreamed it was possible until I had her. I love every other animial around here, but it's not nearly the same thing.
    Cherish your memories and forget about the end. If I could absolve you right now, I would do it, because I know Wrigley would.
    You might remember that I wrote a post about my dear Attila and our little morning ritual a while ago. I knew that she was very old (12 is VERY OLD for a Great Dane) but apart from slowing down and becoming a little stiff, she had no health issues. On Saturday night I put her to bed (she was the only dog that slept indoors, the others like to roam at night) and we played the noses and paws game like every other night. I looked in her face as I said good night, and I could almost hear her say 'I love you'. She radiated adoration for me.
    At around 4am on Sunday morning I heard her kicking, she did that sometimes when she slept. I thought to myself, Attila is playing rabbit chase in her dreams. When I came downstairs at 5am she was dead. She must have had a stroke. There were some signs that she was in distress at the end and I will always be sorry that I didn't come downstairs earlier when I heard her kicking in what I thought was her sleep. But there would have been nothing I could do, and in a way I feel that she spared me the agony of watching her die. I'd been walking around for months thinking that I would find it nearly impossible to take her to the vet when the time came.
    So yes, I think I know how you feel about what happened. But we can't change it, and our dogs didn't feel the way we do about the situation, I KNOW that.
    I'm still crying too much about Attila to write a tribute to her, in time I will be ready.
    I hope that your sadness lessens soon.

    1. Oh Megan, I know exactly what you mean when you say Attila was your once in a lifetime great dog love.. I wonder why some of them touch us more than others. Like you've said, we love them all but sometimes there is just a bond that can't be explained. 12 is ancient for a Dane.. My Uncle used to have Danes and most only lived 6 or 7 years. I've only known one dane to live longer than your Attila, my friend Barb had one called Daisy that lived to 15 or 16? I can't exactly remember which one. Barb attributed it to the fact that she had had her stomach sewn down to stop flip when she was young.. I don't know, if that's true but I know she was lucky to have her that long. I think Attila and Daisy stuck around so long because they couldn't bare to leave their human soul mates. I know that look of pure adoration in a pups eyes.. Wrigley used to give it to me. It is the greatest gift a dog can give. I can totally understand that you thought she was chasing rabbits in her dreams, Wrigley did that too.. although I suspect it was possums or birds in his case. He was often quite vocal about it too with little barks as well.. I always loved to watch a dog dream and wonder what they were doing in it. :) There is absolutely no way you could have known that night was any different. I do think that perhaps they try to spare us in the end. I would like to think that Wrigley picked 8am to spend every last minute with us, without having to make us get the vet. I'm choosing to think of it as his last gift to us. I think Attila did the same. She said goodbye with that adoring look and a wonderful game of noses and paws. Then she let you sleep and left before you woke. Her last gift to you. I'm so glad Attila had good quality of life right up until the end. And it sounds like she went out in the best possible way. Quick and painless. What a blessing in you life she was. :) Lots of Hugs to you and I'll look forward to reading your tribute, when you are ready to write it.

  12. I'm so sorry to hear about your dog Wrigley. We grow to so close to pets as they become part of our family. I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers. Thanks for this post and some great pictures ( and memories). Hang in there.

    1. Thanks Troy. I still miss this little guy so much.. but the passage of time makes each day a little easier.

  13. I missed this post. :[ I am so sorry for your loss. They do leave us too soon, even when there is a long life of happiness spent together. Many hugs for you.

    1. Thanks Brae, yes, if only they could live longer.. much longer, it would be wonderful. He loved life so much, I think I'm most sad that he's missing out.

  14. Oh Samantha... It's Cindy (cinandtheminicity) and somehow I stumbled upon your blog. What a beautiful tribute to your Wrigley. I feel like I know him, and you, a little more now. How fortunate am I? Wrigley was one lucky dog. You are one special mom... :)

    1. Thanks Cindy. :) You are too kind. I did my best and I hope he forgives us for the end. He was such a love bug I'm sure he does. I do miss this little munchkin everyday and when I look at our new pup Ferris, I know how excited Wrigley would have been to have a new playmate and it makes me melancholy that he isn't here to share the fun.