Today I went to Grandma's to drive her to get her dressings off her foot and take a look her "toe" or lack of toe...
I picked her up from the beauty salon (an every Friday ritual) then headed out to Torrance to see how she was healing. In my last few phone conversations with her throughout the week she had never sounded better. The constant pain that was her toe was gone! Now I have to watch her for Memory Loss. When is it just forgetfulness and when do I get worried about it?
While on our way to the Doctor's office we began our general chatter, catching up on my weeks activities and just having a good time. Today I remembered our conversation from Thursday night, she mentioned taking "Chuka" (my Dad's dog) somewhere, but we were trying to created a plan for pick up today that she never elaborated. When I asked her today where she took "Chuka" she told me that she took her to the Vet and had to put her down. I was Shocked! I guess I was not ready to hear this news and the way she told me caught me off guard. Here is Chuka's story...
I'm not entirely sure when my dad found her or how old she is exactly but I'm estimating she was about 11 - 12 years old. She was a Pit Bull mix and very skiddish. My dad found her I would say between 2000 and 2001 after being hit by a car. He nursed her back to health and she was his companion. As far as I know she is "Chuka #2 maybe #3, and if your wondering what a "Chucka" is... well it apparently means "Dirty Dog" in Spanish. This is the first I've ever heard of it but OK. I also have NO idea why he named up to 3 dogs the same name. I'm not even sure that's how you even spell it but there it is!
Whenever my brother and I would go over we would play with her and she was a really good dog. On the day my dad died, Chuka was there. I want to say she tried to protect him but was unable too. I also believe that she went into a type of doggy depression for a long time after that. She was never the same.
From that day forward she became my grandma's dog. I really think she fed the dog "gourmet" meals. Leftovers from breakfast mixed in with her dog food, with milk and warmed in the microwave. I was amazed at how well this dog ate. Now over the years Chuka's activities slowed because there was no one really around to pay much attention to her the way my dad did, but she was still very protective of the house and all of us in it.
In December When I began visiting my grandma on a regular basis I began to notice her physical changes. There seemed to be a tumor or cyst or something growing from her belly. She also had a few growths on her neck and head. I did bring this up to my grandma but she seemed to be unfazed by the whole thing. "Saying she's just a dog" and as long as she was able to get around and was eating she would be fine. We had this conversation again last week right after her surgery because I had noticed the dog limping a little more and she just had pain written all over her face. I knew my grandma wasn't gonna spend thousands of dollars to take the dog to the vet (that is just not practical) but I did mention maybe thinking about putting her down soon, she seemed to be suffering too much. I did not expect that it would be so quickly. But I guess one of the tumors burst and she had begun to bleed, so grandma and my uncle drove her down to the vet for a look. Turns out the tumors were cancerous and it would be $5000 to operate and treatment with no guarantee of a full recovery. So she decided it was time for Chuka to meet my dad again. This is truly a Marley and Me moment, and I was sitting in the car tearing up all over again. Loosing her was a little bit like loosing my dad again. When we got home and she wasn't there I was sad, about a dog again...
On the brighter side, grandma has also begun to purge some of the clothes in her closet and that made this whole day worth while! This is definitely a To Be Continued story!
I picked her up from the beauty salon (an every Friday ritual) then headed out to Torrance to see how she was healing. In my last few phone conversations with her throughout the week she had never sounded better. The constant pain that was her toe was gone! Now I have to watch her for Memory Loss. When is it just forgetfulness and when do I get worried about it?
While on our way to the Doctor's office we began our general chatter, catching up on my weeks activities and just having a good time. Today I remembered our conversation from Thursday night, she mentioned taking "Chuka" (my Dad's dog) somewhere, but we were trying to created a plan for pick up today that she never elaborated. When I asked her today where she took "Chuka" she told me that she took her to the Vet and had to put her down. I was Shocked! I guess I was not ready to hear this news and the way she told me caught me off guard. Here is Chuka's story...
I'm not entirely sure when my dad found her or how old she is exactly but I'm estimating she was about 11 - 12 years old. She was a Pit Bull mix and very skiddish. My dad found her I would say between 2000 and 2001 after being hit by a car. He nursed her back to health and she was his companion. As far as I know she is "Chuka #2 maybe #3, and if your wondering what a "Chucka" is... well it apparently means "Dirty Dog" in Spanish. This is the first I've ever heard of it but OK. I also have NO idea why he named up to 3 dogs the same name. I'm not even sure that's how you even spell it but there it is!
Whenever my brother and I would go over we would play with her and she was a really good dog. On the day my dad died, Chuka was there. I want to say she tried to protect him but was unable too. I also believe that she went into a type of doggy depression for a long time after that. She was never the same.
From that day forward she became my grandma's dog. I really think she fed the dog "gourmet" meals. Leftovers from breakfast mixed in with her dog food, with milk and warmed in the microwave. I was amazed at how well this dog ate. Now over the years Chuka's activities slowed because there was no one really around to pay much attention to her the way my dad did, but she was still very protective of the house and all of us in it.
In December When I began visiting my grandma on a regular basis I began to notice her physical changes. There seemed to be a tumor or cyst or something growing from her belly. She also had a few growths on her neck and head. I did bring this up to my grandma but she seemed to be unfazed by the whole thing. "Saying she's just a dog" and as long as she was able to get around and was eating she would be fine. We had this conversation again last week right after her surgery because I had noticed the dog limping a little more and she just had pain written all over her face. I knew my grandma wasn't gonna spend thousands of dollars to take the dog to the vet (that is just not practical) but I did mention maybe thinking about putting her down soon, she seemed to be suffering too much. I did not expect that it would be so quickly. But I guess one of the tumors burst and she had begun to bleed, so grandma and my uncle drove her down to the vet for a look. Turns out the tumors were cancerous and it would be $5000 to operate and treatment with no guarantee of a full recovery. So she decided it was time for Chuka to meet my dad again. This is truly a Marley and Me moment, and I was sitting in the car tearing up all over again. Loosing her was a little bit like loosing my dad again. When we got home and she wasn't there I was sad, about a dog again...
On the brighter side, grandma has also begun to purge some of the clothes in her closet and that made this whole day worth while! This is definitely a To Be Continued story!
We'll Miss you Chuka!
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