My darling sweet Coach passed over the rainbow bridge on Tuesday.

I adopted Coach when he was 6.5, after spending his youth as a working dog. Anyone could see that he was meant to be a “family dog”; he loved to run and chase but he was destined for deep-couch sitting. Coach became an ESA to a very depressed college student who needed a reason to get out of bed each day. He was showered in love by every student that met him and was the most popular man on campus. My roommates were known to kidnap him away for hours when I was at class. One even got approved to bring her to some of her own classes (her teachers were cooler than mine, I guess).

After college, we moved home and eventually I got a remote job where I spent essentially every moment of every day with my short king. My family was strongly against me getting a dog, but even they fell to his charms. He had some traumas to get over after his previous life as a working dog, but he was an example to us all that healing is done step-by-step, day-by-day. He never barked, never jumped on people, never licked, even when we tried to encourage him to let loose a little. He was the king of “chill”. He lived a full life for the 8.5 years I had him. He overcame most of his fears (we gave up on escalators), traveled, kayaked, went to our wedding, hiked, and survived health scares when we were told he wouldn’t. But when surviving became all he was doing, we saw he was tired. I would never have been ready, but I could see that he was.

We made the appointment a week out, so I was able to throw an “early birthday” and “bon voyage” party for Coach this past weekend. I had received requests to say goodbye so I made it an open door party and invited anyone who knew him well. We had people from all different times of his life make the hour and a half drive up to see him. It touched my heart that he got to see so many old friends before the end.

He’s been suffering with what we believed was arthritis and possibly a brain tumor, but just found out may have been degenerative myelopathy. Working from home allowed me to be his full time caregiver and gave me the chance to extend his quality of life. The last month or two we’ve seen a steady decline and our plans to let him pass in Autumn before another frigid winter were reassessed. What I didn’t realize was that while I was making my plans for autumn, he was making his plans for summer.

Coach saved my life over and over, and he will never be forgotten. His light will continue to shine for as long as I live to tell his tale. If there’s a heaven, I know he’s in it. I hope he’s there helping each of your beloved fur babies pass over too.

To know Coach was to love him.

Rocco passed away in our arms Tuesday night.

Rocco came into my life 13 years ago, abandoned with his little vet given birth certificate stating his name and birthdate “Rocko, 03-20-2012”. I didn’t know what his story was exactly, nor did I care, I just took him home and changed his name to “Rocco” with double c’s (a name a medium would eventually tell us that he loved and is glad I kept).

We saw every version of each other. Being a miniature schnauzer/cairn terrier mix I saw the vocal and rambunctious side of him when he was young, the jealous competing sibling when we rescued other dogs, and the calm and stoic senior who was a magnet to our laps once he hit 10. He saw the broke girl barely getting by, the girl who moved across the country to start over, and the girl who got married to his new dad and settled down. We loved every version of each other whole heartedly.

When John and I moved back to Savannah in 2023, it was the first time that Rocco became an only child. We immediately learned that our 110 year old home didn’t stand a chance against Rocco’s newly developed separation anxiety, so we adjusted our lives to make his easier. Most people besides close friends don’t know this, but Rocco hasn’t been left alone for more than 5 minutes for over 3 years. I am home with him 24/7. We have routines rooted so deep that we don’t even recognize that they are routines. Wake up, potty, run down the hallway receive 2 treats with hidden pills. John pours the coffee, brings over 6 additional treats to where I’m sitting on the couch, Rocco jumps up and eats them one by one. I swear he would count the treats in his head and he knew if he was being short changed and only received 5.

During the day, our routines continued. Mom’s working on the computer? 3 green beans lined up down the beddie for a little nap time snack (again, I swear he counted!) Dad comes home for lunch, he gets a stroll around the block while I prep lunch and snacks for Rocco. At 4:30pm, Rocco’s head was on a swivel knowing that John sometimes comes home early, or during the colder months that I would put his harness on and we would walk to our special bench in Madison Square to wait for John to get done with work.

The most special routine to me was at night. After his final potty, John would knock on the door and I’d get in position at the end of our long hallway with a green bean and Rocco would sprint down the hallway into my arms. One final celebratory treat for being the world’s best dog before going to bed. Rocco no longer wanted to sleep in bed with us because of his arthritis, so we’d promptly set up multiple blankets and stuffies on the couch, angle his fan up so he had a constant stream of wind on his face, and I’d kiss his nose after applying a thick coat of aquaphor on my lips. He would know if I skipped the last part, and would push his head up toward me as if he was saying, “Don’t forget my nose ointment, mom”.

Around 4:30am he’d wake up and pace in front of our bed, his little paws tapping on the hardwood, and we’d pick him up and put him between us. It’s like he knew it would make us happy if we all woke up as a family. Before crawling out of bed he’d get the “sharkies” which is what we called his head digging into the blankets, huffing and puffing and playing. Basically, senior dog zoomies. Then, the routines started again.

Grocery shopping meant picking up Instacart with Rocco in the backseat. Date nights meant sitting outside with Rocco in a stroller (equipped with a bag of carrots or green beans so he felt like he was eating out too). Working out was done individually so one of us could always be with him. And vacations centered around him. We’d drive to the beach and spend every day of our trip holding him on the deck or in the sand. We’d declare it was the best trip ever, and anxiously plan our next trip. During those trips we would do absolutely nothing, but it was somehow everything at the same time. Rocco showed us that slowing down and just enjoying nature and each other’s company was the point. Small moments meant very big memories.

Over the years, Rocco had his fair share of illnesses. Our vet would lovingly joke that the office was taking over/unders on how quickly we’d be back for another impromptu check up. Rocco dealt with the normal doggy illnesses— arthritis, allergies, one awful encounter with a couple fleas that caused a week long cleaning spree and mom freak out over searching every inch of his body multiple times a day.

He also suffered from cushings disease, severe chronic rhinitis, and in his last days, a perforated gall bladder that would ultimately be what took him from this world.

It happened quick. Monday morning he counted his 6 coffee time treats, and by Monday evening he was unable to walk. The emergency vet treated him for pancreatitis, which gave us some comfort because that can be overcome. We followed up with our primary vet who said he didn’t believe it was that simple, and sent us to South Carolina where he called us in to see an emergency specialist who could do an ultrasound that night. We sped there as fast as we could, Rocco sound asleep on Johns lap as I drove, barely making a peep. When we arrived they immediately checked him in to begin fluids as he was severely dehydrated, and told us they’d be keeping him for a few nights. Those who know me know that I sobbed and and John joking begged the doctor to let me stay (to which they kindly explained wasn’t possible) but that we could wait in the lobby while they set up his private room and his IV and feeding tube. An hour later the nurse told us that they called in another specialist who was on his way and that he’d want to speak with us when he was finished. My heart sank and I knew that couldn’t be good news, and it wasn’t.

We were told on top of the pancreatitis and severe dehydration, Rocco’s gallbladder had perforated and was causing a widespread abdominal infection. We were told the chance of survival in a perfectly healthy dog was 60%, but that in Rocco’s case, with all his additional illnesses, that number was significantly lower. We were given 2 options, try to surgically remove the gallbladder and infection, knowing with the vets warning he may not make it through surgery, or to humanely let him see my Dad and his siblings.

Despite being on a time crunch, we didn’t make this decision easily. We would have paid a million dollars to save him, but were we doing right by him? We weighed every scenario— maybe he makes it through the surgery, but his body can’t recover (a prognosis the vet stressed was possible because of his additional illnesses) or maybe he doesn’t make it through surgery and he leaves this world without his mom and dad by his side. Ultimately, we knew what was right, even if it wasn’t what we wanted to do.

A few moments later Rocco was in our arms. We spent about 15 minutes telling him how important he was to us. How he was the best dog in the world. How we would spend the rest of our lives talking about him. They then moved us to a private room where we could say our final goodbyes. In my head I was angry because it wasn’t supposed to be like this for Rocco. He was supposed to pass peacefully in our arms at home, or worst case, with a vet in the comfort of his home. But here we were in a nice, but sterile, dimly lit room saying goodbye on a leather couch where so many other parents had to do the same thing.

We positioned Rocco on both of our laps and cried into his fur. He was so medicated, but he still fought through the medicine to be “the same old Rocco” we knew. He’d lift his head for a moment and longingly look into our eyes. He somehow managed a baby kiss on my hand as I was petting his face. The vet had spiked his Mohawk up when they brought him to us, but our tears flattened it back out. We held him and cried. We celebrated his beautiful life through tears. We prayed his passing would be peaceful, and we called for my Dad to be waiting so he could walk him through once he passed.

A few moments later, the vet confirmed his heart stopped beating. We didn’t let him go for what seemed like a really long time. They let us grieve and hold his body. It was then that I took notice of his weight on my lap. He had draped himself over me an infinite amount of times, but it was only in that moment that I realized I’d never feel the weight of his body on me again. A moment I truly wasn’t ready for. Eventually, they came in to take him, but not before we held his face and kissed his nose a few more dozen times.

Of all the dogs we’ve lost in our lifetime, we weren’t prepared for how Rocco would look in that moment. The only way I could describe it is simple— he looked beautiful. His eyes neatly shut, his beard almost looked like he just got brushed, and his ears were draped over the blanket like he was taking a nap. He looked exactly how he looked every night when we tucked him in. Completely at peace.

I really struggle with how he felt in those last 24 hours. Rocco was aging and had his slow days, but for the most part he still acted like a puppy. His energy was unparalleled. Every historic district resident or business owner knew his name. He’d proudly walk business to business collecting treats during his walks, stop and get pets from the neighbors who came to love him, and would eventually sit and stare up at us ready to be picked up and carried back home. In those last moments, he couldn’t walk. He couldn’t even stand. I know we made the right decision, and it will take time to not remember him the way he was in his last hours of life, but in the immediate aftermath it’s hard not to think about.

No words I could write or say will ever explain how much he changed our lives. In the early days together, I credit Rocco with my life. A true “who rescued who” story. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know where I’d be, quite frankly. I’m just so thankful his story unfolded the way it did. John and I will truly have to relearn how to live without him. Every detail of the last 3 years involved him.

He was the absolute love of my life. My soul dog. He gave my life so much purpose. The only thing I can do now is try to live the same way we did when he was here. To sit in the small moments and see the significance in them. To put the phone down and sit by the fan and just breathe with the wind on my face. I’m not sure I’ll ever eat a green bean again without crying, but eventually maybe I’ll see them and remember how excited they once made The Best Dog in the World.

My life will never be the same. And I don’t think it’s supposed to be. I think I’m supposed to practice each lesson he taught me. Patience, excitement, love, peace. I’ll spent the rest of my life missing him.

Rocco, my little Sharkie, I will love you forever. I’ll see you at the beach.

Maia was the best and most loyal friend. I loved her so much and felt so fortunate she adopted me to be her human.

We only learned she had late stage cancer and an enlarged heart a couple weeks before her final days. She wouldn't let us know to avoid us feeling bad, she stayed strong and fought until the last breath.

Life has been hard these past few days. Although difficult for us to process that she passed so sudden, I'm just happy she didn't have to suffer long.

I'd like to think she had the best possible life and I look forward to seeing her on the other side of the rainbow.

Love you Maia!

Tailz is going to take his journey across the 🌈 bridge tonight around sunset at home in his favorite spot with his favorite people. I’ll be back here but I want to express gratitude and appreciation for all the love and support and information you all have offing this community. 13.5 of his 15.5 years were spend as my best friend and he will furever be in my heart. These are his retirement photos from earlier in the week.

My 14.5 yr old gal was hospitalized the day before we were to go on vacation. Left is a pic of her from our first vacation together, right is her yesterday. ♥️

Hello, I have a 15 year old Chihuahua. He is active and wants to eat, however, he no longer has teeth and his tongue slips only by the right side of his mouth. He only eats smashed wet food because he can't grab solid food or entire chunks of wet food anymore. Recently he began to have difficulties eating the smashed food, and it takes a lot of time just to eat a little bit. I notice that he is getting slimmer, he is eating less and getting fatigued.

I would like to know if I can do something else so he can eat better.

When my 3 years old dog was diagnosed with CKD, I treated her for Almost a year, frequent vet visits, lengthy hospital stays and her maintenance meds on top of that, but i still lost her....it was really traumatizing moment because we did everything to save her but she still died. I used up all the little savings i had and until now, i'm still paying the balances i had for her treatment

Now, i can see that my senior dog (12 years old) is detoriating, she hasn't eaten for days, she cant stand, she cant even drink water on her own and i feel so guilty because I just dont have enough money to bring her to the vet for her last days but there's a part of me that i dont want her to go through those aggressive treatments that what my other dog had but it hurts me so much to see her detoriate quickly: (all i can do is to be with her for her last few days and tell her i love her so much

I hope that this is allowed here and I apologize if it isn't. I just want to sincerely thank everyone in this community. I have only encountered love, support, and encouragement from this community. We all know that isn't the typical case in most corners of the internet, or reddit for that matter. I just appreciate you all so much, more than I know how to say. Much love from Xander and myself ♥️

My 16 year old lost his sight rapidly. Vet recommended a non-evasive treatment. It didn't take the 1st time, so we tried again. This time it WORKED!!! Now my little old man is back to taking up my half of the bed, and snoozing like it's an Olympic sport!! A month in a cone was hard on all of us! His vet even did a little dance after testing came back good!!!

I love my kids and I love our senior terrier mix, who is somewhere around 15. Lately I have a spicy opinion I wish I had picked up years ago: an old dog does not need to become "good with chaos" to be a good family dog.

For a long time I treated everything like training. Kids loud? Time to desensitize. He wants to leave the room? Time to practice staying settled. The more I pushed that, the more it felt like I was asking a tired body and frayed nerves to do emotional labor for our household.

Now his comfort is non-negotiable, like a toddler's nap. He has escape routes and a kid-free zone. If he walks away, we do not call him back. If he growls (rare, and always a clear warning), we thank him for telling us and change the situation instead of correcting him. The kids are learning that respecting an animal's boundaries is part of being kind, not a punishment.

Maybe this is obvious to some of you, but I keep seeing well-meaning posts asking, "How do I get my old dog to tolerate my kids?" and I want to gently say: you might not, and that can still be a loving, successful home. No shame in that.

Curious how others balance senior dog peace with normal family life. What boundaries were real game-changers for you?

Small unrelated note: I’ve also been keeping some of his care stuff organized through CoveredCritters, https://coveredcritters.com, which has been one less thing to think about.

My 13-year old baby started having health issues about a year ago with irregular liver enzymes, which we later found out was due to gallbladder sludge. After treating with Denamarin and Ursodiol, his liver and gallbladder were back to normal, but his ultrasound and bloodwork showed Stage 1 kidney disease levels. At that time six months ago, they said just to keep an eye on him and recheck and that it could progress slowly. We rechecked yesterday and bloodwork and urine sample was consistent with Stage 3!! This is a devastating diagnosis. The vet said the progression is sometime rapid once they turn a certain age.

I don't know how much longer we have with him, but he is happy and acting normally other than he sleeps a bit more and is slower to react when we come home. We are going to start on the Hills Science Diet k/d food tonight. Any tips or stories of successful management (even though I know it isn't reversible) are appreciated.

Not the first post from her vacation, nor the last but the pictures from there make me happy and I hope they can make others smile, too.

It's so nice to see her roam free outdoors there, and rest when and where she wants. That's a luxury she doesn't have at home.

Suffered stage 3/4 IVDD in January. We did conservative care (very strict, luckily I work from home) and he made a miraculous recovery to about 90% I would say. He’s not allowed up on furniture as much as he used to be for fear of jumping but he was very well behaved today so he got some time on his favorite ottoman and he was soaking it all in 💖💖

I'm not entirely sure why I'm posting this, mostly looking for reassurance because it feels really difficult to make this call. My sweet pup is about 13ish. I've had her for 10 years and we guessed she was 3-4 at the time of adoption although she might have been a bit older or younger. In 2020 she suffered from IVDD and I ended up doing the surgery and she was able to learn to walk again and have a great quality of life. One year ago she suffered a major cardiac episode and lived through it and for the past 11 months we've been managed her CHF. Shes had two episodes in the last two months but both were caught very quickly and without much discomfort on her part. We've been progressively upping her medications for the last 11 months.

Two nights ago she had a lot of vomiting. Initially I thought it was the new increased meds but we realized she got into some stuff in the yard so it was most likely just an upset stomach. She was back to "normal" within 12-18 hours, but during that time I was up with her throughout the night as she vomited and struggled to get comfortable.

She's now stable and comfortable again, but I made the decision to make an at-home euthanasia appointment for Monday morning. She's getting close to the end of treatment options and on very strong medications (vetmiden, trosemide, and spirolactone). She is supposed to go for more blood work in 2 weeks to continue monintoring her kidney function. She hates going to the vet, she gets anxious everytime we go and we've been going more frequently for bloodwork checks and her most recent stay (was on oxygen and back home within 12 hours).

My worry is that she may have another couple weeks or even months of life if we don't do this Monday. She is eating and drinking. Her walks are getting much shorter and her energy is lower but she seems comfortable in the house. But I am scared that by waiting and prolonging this decision her death will come in a way that is scary for her, where she won't be comfortable, where she can't breathe, or something else. I know that logically it is the most compassionate thing to do to help her have a calm and comfortable and dignified passing at home surrounded by people who love her. I took off the two days I was supposed to work before then so I can just be with her, give her treats and try to take her for walks if she wants them. I've told all the people in town who have a connection to her so she can also get visits from everyone she really loves.

Again, it feels like the right choice but I'm having some doubts and worries I'm not giving her more time.

My 14 year old did was diagnosed with a stage 4 heart murmur 2 years ago. He was put on Vetmedin and did really well on it, until his cough started getting worse. So we took him to the Veterinarian and he was put on the Lasix water pill.. He seemed to be doing alright until he lost his appetite and then he stopped taking treats. He even refused to take his Vetmedin and Lasix pill..but with coaxing he took them, but then threw them up. He also has small loose stools.The Veterinarian we took him to yesterday told us that the Lasix med works the best, so he cut down on the dosage, and gave him 4 days worth of anti na pills. He is through half of the nausea pills. He hasn’t been vomiting lately, but he still doesn’t want to eat. Is there anything I can do to help my dog now? I hand fed him a little canned soft Blue Buffalo dog food. But he doesn’t want treats and isn’t eating on his own. What should we do for Fester now?

I have a Miniature Schnauzer that turned 14 a few months back . We used to call her a “vacuum “ because she would eat anything and everything if given the chance . These days she straight up stopped eating , which is something i thought i would never witness in this lifetime. I tried to hand feed her and encourage her go eat but she just refuses and goes away. She’s mostly sleeping and barely reacting when touched or called . Its getting to the point where hearing her bark or seeing her wag her tail is surprising.

I genuinely don’t know what to do , I’m aware that this is a sign that she may be ready to go but the anticipatory grief is killing me ( crying as i’m writing this btw) . The thought that I’m just starting to live my life (early 20’s) and the end of hers is definitely coming soon is devastating me.

Is anyone else dealing with this kind of stuff right now? How do i manage to get over this once it’s over?

We miss you and love you Tuna bear ❤️

Sorry long post: My guy is 16 1/2. He was diagnosed with “moderate” hip arthritis and also IVDD 9 months ago. I had taken him to a doggie orthopedic specialist when his back legs started giving him trouble. She recommended Carprofen and Amantadine, both of which have seemed to help until recently. She also suggested Librela. However, after reading a bit about Librela I decided against it because of its not being recommended for IVDD or for dogs with neurological issues. His pain seemed to pretty well handled although he was panting at times and having anxiety at night. I knew that the nighttime anxiety could be dementia , and he also has a heart murmur which could be causing the panting when he anxious (said the vet). I would try to give him Tramadol and/or gabapentin at night, but it made his walking so much worse than I then tried not to. About 3 weeks ago his symptoms became worse and for his sake we are seriously considering euthanasia. He’s panting more, vocalizing more and now doing it in the daytime and even with his pain meds. I called the specialist and she said that I really should (and should have already) try the Librela. I told her my concerns and she didn’t say much. My primary vet also said if it’s between euthanasia and Librela, try the Librela. What do you guys think?

So I have a German shepherd who turns 15 next week (on Tuesday the 28th! So proud of my super senior dog for lasting that long, and despite being otherwise healthy and fit) except for exercise, her arthritis makes it hard to have more than two 10 minute walks a day because that's honestly all she can manage. I'm honestly so surprised that a German shepherd has lived that long, considering the average life span can be about 11-13 years, with 13 years being on the realistic end of life for a dog her size and breed. She's taking Stilboesterol for a weak bladder that releases when she's sleeping. She's been on that for about a year and a half, and after a couple of weeks on it completely stopped wetting herself in her sleep. Absolutely no night time accidents at all since starting the pill.

Recently, about maybe 4 months ago, she started pooping inside. But the thing is, she'll wake up from sleep and realises that she needs to poop NOW and starts squatting while also walking to the door so we can let her out. So that seems to me that she understands that pooping is an outside activity. I don't think this is a sign of cognitive decline since she's self aware that she knows where she needs to poop but just can't hold it in for the 2 minutes it would take to rush her to the door and let her do her business. On the few times we actually did manage to get her outside before she shit on our carpet, she would just give up going on the grass and would just poop on the porch. She has also recently peed on the front porch so often that it stinks outside the front door and the smell is seeping through the windows that won't completely shut due to shitty landords

But the thing is, she will sometimes be able to poop with no problem most of the time and she will tell us that she needs to go outside and we take her out. When she has one of her poop episodes, she will ignore us and instinctively go to the door.

Sometimes few times after going outside and peeing, she'll poop inside maybe 2 minutes after returning inside, as if she didn't know that she needed to poop until that very moment.

She has mild arthritis, has pannus but it's not too bad and can see specific people based on their body types from a distance. she'll see me come home and will cry with happiness, she'll see my mum visit and give her cuddles and love, but even then she pooped inside without letting me know before hand.

It's like she suddenly decided that she couldn't wait the 2 minutes it takes to herd her to the door where she's learned to potty all her life. and is almost completely deaf--you have to shout for her to hear you. She's also recently been showing signs of dementia, but not often. She will sundown maybe once a fortnight or so, walking around the house and being very confused, but I don't know if that's the reason, because she's only started it a few weeks after the first poop incident. She also peed inside twice and in the same manner, she woke up, and tried squatting while also trying to make her way to the door to be let out. But the symptoms of her very mild dementia (as diagnosed by one of out loc very (our local vet has about a dozen vets that they rotate on a day/weekly basis which makes it hard to request a dentist that you have a good experience with.

It's just so weird that she's suddenly lost the ability to know that she needs to poop in advance. She used to be taken out before bed for her last potty of the night where she would pee and poop at the same time because she knew that she had a whole night of sleeping/cuddling to do, but now she'll get up several times at night and I've become so hyperaware of this that I haven't been able to have a restful sleep since it started. The moment she wakes up and jumps from the bed on high alert and ready to clean up any messes she made. Sometimes its a false alarm and she just to drink water and eat her dinner (which she eats once every two days and the vets cant figure out why. Tests show that her blood levels are normal and she has no stomach issues. She's been like this since she was a puppy, so likely not related)

Shes just not super hungy. The next day, she'll devour the left over food she didnt eat from the night before as if she's never seem food before. Is this normal behaviour? Its been happening since been happening since she was borm and I just get paranoid whenever she wakes up that she'll make a mess that I have to instantly clean up, like cleaning piss stains (which like I said only happened twice, but I don't know if that's relevant to her pooping problems). Can behaviourists chime in on this, to understand what's going on it her psyche?

She was never like this, she would always come to us if she needed to go outside, and could handle waiting a few minutes for us to get ready to go outside and supervise her and now we're watching her like a hawk to properly document her toilet habits. She poops inside at like 3-4 times a week, sometimes twice in one day. It's really stinking up the house, even more that our cats rancid poops. Her farts have gotten really bad, they used to be mild but now they smell like rancid rotten eggs, which has been going on for a couple of years before all this has happened, and I just chalked it down to dogs will sometimes eat bad food or not eat one day and then eat a full meal the next, which the multiple very that work at the practice who have seen her all claim that it's perfectly normal for a dog to have less of an appetite, especially if they're in pain due to arthritis. And to be fair, her arthritis isn't \*too\* bad. She still goes on walks, though they're very slow because she can't keep up with me and sniff as a form of enrichment. As a result, i walk super slowly and concentrate on sniffing as a form of mental enrichmet. She doesnt seem to understand concept of fetch anymore, which she used to love over a year ago, she's completely forgotten how to play. She used to play fetch with a random toy and then we'd play tug a war with it and I would let her win after a lot of back and forth between the two of us. Her fave game was also a game we called mouthy/handy where I would put an over mitt on my hands and bait her into playtime and she would gently (super gently, with very little pressure in her bite) bit my hands and it didn't hurt because of the oven mitts. It was one of her fave games. She also really liked fetch, but her Dr told us that fetch puts too much pressure on her joints from the running back and forth, but after a while she got bored of that as well. But all these games she loved feel like foreign cobcents to her, as if she's forgotten how to play the games she grew up on and even played not even a year ago.

Because of her arthritis and it being winter where I am, walks are very short because she is a princess and will complain about rhe cold. Sometimes she refuses to step on cf wet grass and would rather pee on the porch instead, but the problem is that its stinking up the front of the house because out windows are.so badly designed that they let in a centimeter or two of air in in of the smell that is right underneath the window. At first we hosed off the pee stains and it didn't very little to get rid of the smell, so now we have to scrub the entire porch with dishwater soap to get of the smells and the stains.

We have a vet appointment this Thursday because she needs a new bottle of her pee pills, and because she's so old for a dog of her breed her drs want to do blood tests to test her blood count and any problems that are serious for old dogs like heart disease, and she also had giant lumps that haven't grown in size but still worry me, but beause of the many vets that work there, it's unlike you'll come across the same vet twice, and they all share the same sentiment.

So I wanted to know, what do you think is the cause of her problem? Behavioural? Dementia that showed up after the change in personality, or a problem with her bowel movents in the same way she had issues with her bladder.

I'd love some background knowledge so I can properly convey what's happening to the vet and understand what they're talking about because they tend to talk in medical jargon.

Hello all. One of our family dogs, 11F, is scheduled to be put to sleep later this week. I'm starting to have a tough time with it and she isn't even gone yet. She is a lab/boxer mix was by far the friendliest dogs my family ever had. Only time she ever hurt anybody was by jumping on them to say hello or laying on your lap even though she was 80 pounds. It's just so tough to see a dog that was so full of life even in old age be a shell of their former self. I actually heard the song "Tears in Heaven" by Eric Clapton on the car radio this morning and nearly had to pull over to cry.

It's also sad because she also has a brother who's about the same age but his breeding (bichon/schnauzer) has longer lifespans. I just keep thinking about if he know she's sick, or when we return without his sister will he know why, or will he adjust to being an only child for a time?

I'm honestly just typing this to express some feelings, but if anyone has any kind words or helpful advice, it will help make the coming days better.

Thank you.

My yorkie is 12 years old (turning 13 this year) and around 7kg. Apparently he’s luxating patellar on both hind legs his whole life.

This has never been an issue for him until last year. The vet said he likely partially torn a ligament in his hind left leg, so they suggested the TPLO. We ended up not going through with the surgery because of his age and active levels (he goes for walks, but is by no means an athlete). The surgery sounded very invasive and i was worried it would do more harm than good, as 8 weeks of no movement would cause more muscle atrophy.

His left leg healed fine as time went on, and he started going on longer walks and acting like himself again. Fast forward to this year, he is now limping on his RIGHT hind leg. I think he has overcompensated and his right leg is now weaker than the left. It makes a popping sound, but he doesn’t seem to bother him too much. He lets me touch and massage both legs, and never whines or complains. He still wants to run/ hop/ walk, and has energy to constantly bug me for treats.

I can’t help but to feel like a bad dog parent because I didn’t go through with the surgery last year, and now his other leg is compromised. I’m now re-thinking my option of doing the TPLO.

Does anyone have any insight on the TPLO for senior small dogs? Or experience managing luxating patellar without surgery? I would love to hear it!

P.s. He is on all the supplements to support his recovery (cartrophen, 4cyte, omega oil, galliprant)