I have a Pembroke Welsh Corgi whose name is Pete. Actually I have 3 corgis, but Pete is special. Pete came to me at time that I needed him. My dogs are my fur babies. I had a tri-color corgi whose name was Billy. Billy died of cancer in 1999. He was part of our family for 7 years. When Billy died, I went into a downward spiral. Losing him was like losing a child. I have a tendency to have depression but his death was very hard on me. I would go down into a hole for days, which I thought I could never climb out of. Some days I got so I didn't want to get out of bed and go to work. Being around people was torture. I was mad at the world and myself. I should have known that Billy was suffering. I didn't take care of him like I should. It was my fault that he died. I went through all the stages of depression.
We use to have a pet store at the mall where I live. I would go in every week asking if they had Pembroke corgis. Usually they didn't. I wanted another dog. I need another dog. I got the nickname corgi lady. One day I went in, asking my usual question, "do you have any corgis". I expected the usual answer of no but they said "yes we do". I couldn't believe it. I asked to hold him. They took him out of the cage and let me hold him. They first thing the puppy did was lick my face. He was so happy to be out of the cage. I asked how much they wanted for him. I was floored when they told me $900. I thought maybe $200 but not $900. I couldn't afford that. So I would go in every week to hold him. After I would hold him, talk to him and get puppy kisses, I could feel the fog lifting. One week I went in to hold him, to get my fix, and the sales clerk told me that I just needed to buy the dog. I asked how much, and replied make an offer. I offered $75 and they took it. I was so shocked but happy. My husband and I immediately took the puppy to the vet. When asked what is name was, I took one deep look at him and said, "he looks like a Pete. His name is Pete". The vet asked where we bought the dog. I told him the pet store in the mall. The vet's eyes got really big and said they have parvo there. I thought to myself, no he can't have parvo. I can't lose another dog. I just found him. The vet gave him shots and said watch him. She also told us to go back to the pet store and get medical records from them. I went the next day to get the info and low and behold the pet store was gone. They packed up and left the night before. There was nothing left. I worried that Pete was going to die. But he didn't. Pete has a very gentle soul. He loves all the attention he can get. Right from the first he knew when I was heading for downward spiral. He knew when I needed kisses. Pete loves to talk. He has to have the last woof. I will tell him not to talk back and a few seconds later you will hear this soft woof.
Pete is 11 years old now. He is getting gray around his muzzle. He is slowing down. Last Saturday, I noticed that Pete was having a hard time walking. His back legs were going in different directions and he had a hard time standing. He couldn't go up or down the stairs. I had to carry him outside to go potty. I felt so bad for him. I couldn't get him into the vet until Monday. Sunday was a hard day. Pete couldn't move much. He would just look at me with his big brown eyes. I had to think about what I would do if he was paralyzed. Do I keep him alive, or do I make the decision to put him down. I agonized over what do I do. Do I be selfish and keep him alive and suffering because I can't let him go, or do I let him go. I finally made the decision, that if Pete was going to be in pain and not quality of life, I would let him go. He didn't deserve to suffer. Pete seem to understand the turmoil I was going through. He would put his head on my leg while I petted. He would look up at me, with this look in his eyes that seem to say, I know you will make the right decision. I trust you. I took him to the vet on Monday. I learned that he has herniated disks. The reason he has a problem walking is because the disk is inflamed and the swelling is pushing on the spinal cord. The vet gave him anti inflammatory medication. If that doesn't work, then there is surgery. Pete will never have the full use of his legs, but he will learn to compensate. According to the vet Pete has a few more years. If his condition does get worse, I have made peace with the decision to let him go. Pete was brought in my life when I needed him. I will always love him. He is my Peter pants. My quiet, old man that still loves to give kisses and hugs.