He was ready, we were not.

Kirby. Cubby. The Cubs. The Kirbster. Big Bidness. Big Guy. Big Twubbles. My Boy.

When the time had come for his very last car ride, he let me pick him up and carry him out to the car without even the slightest whimper (those with Bassetts know this isn’t normal) and he walked casually into the veterinarian’s office, even waiting patiently for me to hold the door for him. While we waited for a room, I silently wished he would become completely incapacitated or start barking at the other dogs, showing some life. Instead, he sat calmly between Amy’s legs, occasionally looking at us with the eyes that won us over a little over 3 years ago.

A million thoughts raced through my head, memories of the good times we had and my thoughts on death and what happens in the end. Our only goal was to end his pain which he was clearly in. While he was walking on his own, he hadn’t had a bite to eat or even a sip of water (Kirby had a serious drinking problem) and he hadn’t just been himself in weeks. I spent the majority of this week lying on the floor with him (still doing my conference calls at work) and he had finally let me look into his eyes for long periods of time. I saw sweetness and pain, pain he didn’t deserve.

Amy and I stayed with him while Dr. Sunderman injected h a powerful sedative followed by an overdose of a narcotic. He calmly fell asleep on his side next to Amy and I on the floor. His heart stopped about 30 seconds after the narcotic was administered. No movement whatsoever. And then he was gone.

We would have done anything to make him better- any amount of money, any amount of time. He was our child. His quality of life was the most important thing however and Amy and I could not fathom dozens of trips to the vet, surgeries, medicines and immobility. The cancer was too aggressive and we were out of time. He deserved better. We rescued him from an abusive family and someone who abandoned him. Though maybe he rescued us. He gave us better days. He deserved to be free of this pain. And now he is.

Thank you so much for finding us, big guy.

Wherever it is we we pass from this physical life, I hope to see this again

I took a mid morning nap today and when I came down, I busted Sally playing on the laptop.  After these pictures were taken, I confiscated the machine and checked the Firefox browsing history.  I found the following:

Craigslist:  "SFBH (Single Female Bassett Hound) wooksing for coot and submissive pwayfriend dat wont steals my fuds. 

Petfinder.com:  Nice but not smrts male Basset Hound wif widdle bwain.  Barks at air wandomly but iz sometimes nice when he is sweeping in hiz cage.  If act now, will frow in special brack kitteh who has gud attitude when sweeping up on kitchen cabinet.  Pwease repwy in confidence to salsters99@bassetmailz.com."

Amy and I were disturbed to say the least and Sally has lost her internet privileges for 30 days until she understands the impact of her posts.

Note:  These pictures were not staged (seriously).

Everyday around noon, a Western Fence Lizard comes out to get some sun on the roof near the window in our upstairs master bathroom.  We call him "Wiz" and Ellie likes to watch and sometimes talk to him.

 
(click on the thumbnails for larger images)

While daddy is slaving away at work, mommy and the kids are having a rough day of lounging. It’s clear who they love the most. Due to contractual disagreements and a feud with Gracie, Ellie was not able to participate in this group photo.

Since I’ve been putting everything in my head up on twitter recently, I haven’t had any good content for RCS. In the meantime, here are some cats on a treadmill. If I could only teach Gracie how to do this: