Regis

Regis came to the Gang when he was 8 years old. He was a return to another group, and they didn’t do well adopting out older dogs, so I offered to take him in and find him a home – 8 is not old, and he deserved a home! I remember those first few days. He was full of himself. Mr Personality. Looking for love, prancing down the side of the driveway next to the car when I’d come home, rooing at me. Pawing at my body when I stopped petting him, or turned my attention elsewhere.

A long scarecrow of a red brindle boy, all angles. Face flecked white with straight shooting eyes. Demander of attention, he felt all his due, and rightfully so because he gave a lot of attention in return.

I’d come home from anywhere, and he’d start his antics – throwing that lean body into 360’s of joy. Around and around and around at my feet, leaping up like a pogo stick, and then turning circles. I truly thought cartwheels were going to be next. I thought about keeping him. He listened well, he adored me, and he was a happy boy – all prerequisites for my dogs.

But some lovely people came to adopt, and fell in love with Regis so off he went to be loved. The family loved him for a while, but then a baby came, and Regis was no longer wanted after three years. Las Vegas Rescue and Adoption and I tried to find a good forever home, but no one was interested in an 11 year old with a snaggle tooth, and very little teeth. They couldn’t see past age, a problem rampant in our society. So he came back to hang with the Gang, and he settled right back in to his antics. His 360’s of joy, his daily hikes, his weekly acupuncture, his sleeping next to my bed or on it. Only 12.5 and to all appearences healthy, I thought Regis would outlive all my other dogs.

But, I should have learned by now.

I went away for four days for my birthday. It’s an annual Oscar’s trip to visit Miss Beth in LA, a friend from corporate days. I have four old dogs, all with medical issues. I don’t leave them alone very long lately, and was very worried about their care, particularly Beauty, who has trouble with her spine and getting up and down. I’d set up friends to come by every few hours, and someone to spend the nights.

So the first day I’m gone Winslow starts limping, not putting pressure on one foot, and crying out. After consulting with a few vets, it appears he may have a very badly torn muscle, and won’t be walking on that leg for a long time. But I’m still following up with a few vets to diagnose completely and rule out bone cancer.

Beauty, the hound I was most worried about, did just fine when I was away. And Annie, the Italian Greyhound/Jack Russell mix did fine too.

And then there’s Regis. My boy who appeared the healthiest. He had stopped eating, and looked like a concentration camp survivor. He’s gone off his food before, because when he doesn’t feel well, he doesn’t eat. So I started with the steak and the chicken and the broths and the stews – and he turned up his nose at most. I did get him to eat some eggs, and ran out to buy 2 dozen more, which he then refused. I found some treats he’d eat, but he couldn’t eat enough of them to live on.

And the blood work and ultrasound shows that he’s the one that is leaving me first. He has liver cancer.

So while I’m on a watch for my other dogs to leave, he decides to be the one to go.

And there aren’t any Regis antics anymore.

And we love them so well, and they leave us far too soon.