Isabelle- March 23, 2000-September 18, 2014

I started writing this post when Isabelle was first diagnosed in July. I've been adding to it as I remembered things. I wanted to get as much written down before the grief overcame me.

Isabelle wasn't a sweet cuddly pug. She didn't like being held by me. She didn't like kisses or hugs. She tried to bite me if I touched her nose or ears. I had to restrain her to get her eye medications in. She had attitude that she really couldn't back up with only three teeth. She would get so mad when it was nail trim time that she would pass out.

I loved her more than I thought I would. Because she came into my life at a late age, I've only had five and a half years with her. She didn't connect with me like Tallulah and Petunia did. Tallulah and Petunia are my heart. I loved Isabelle, but not in the same way. And that's ok. I know she loved me the best that she could. Even if she would have preferred a man.

Here are some of my favorite memories of Isabelle.

Just a few months after coming to me, I was removing staples and carpet tacks from my stairs. Isabelle sat at the bottom and barked and cried. Then she made her way up to me slowly, basically the only time she ever tried to climb my stairs.

Isabelle and I were on a local morning TV show to promote Pugapalooza one year. I brought a small bowl of Cheerios to keep her occupied (and less barky). The TV lady wanted to feed her some and took a handful of Cheerios. Instead of giving her one at a time, she held out her palmful of snacks. Isabelle dove face first into those Cheerios! She always ate with gusto.

She hated the first stroller I got her. It was too low to the ground, and the sides were too high. She liked the second one because it got her up higher and frankly closer to any available treats. She was still fussy if she couldn't see me though. She put on quite a show every year in the parade in her stroller. People even recognized her from the parade. She was also crowned Norfolk's first Canine Crusader last year. 

Isabelle didn't like to be on the furniture which led to several, several dog beds. At any one time, there were at least three in the living room. She moved from bed to bed when she felt like it. She seemed to prefer the orthopedic ones in rectangle shape. We had other orthopedic beds in different shapes which she would use if she had to. If a rectangle was put down, she immediately moved to it.

She liked it even better if beds were double stacked.

The one couch she did like.

After years of trying different things, she finally found a warming bed thing she liked, the Body Glove Pup Warmer. Keeping her warm was a challenge. If she got too cold, she would cough, always a danger with trachea dogs. She had a huge wardrobe of sweaters and t shirts and fleeces. The pugjamas started because of Isabelle. The track suits mom got her were too long. Thus, mom started making her own.

Isabelle was not a fan of swimming. At all. Unfortunately for her, swimming was the best exercise she could get as a black, senior pug with breathing problems. She needed the exercise because of arthritis. I made her swim a few laps a few times a week then she could float around in her ladybug float with me. She didn't like to be away from me, but she didn't like to be in the pool either.

Isabelle met very few foods she didn't like. Bananas are one. She liked the flavor, but apparently not the whole fruit. She also never met a size of food she didn't think she could handle. Which led to trying to swallow things whole and choking. That taught me to cut up her food and break up the treats. Her favorite treat were Pumpkin Kisses from Pugs in the Kitchen. I ordered 3/4 of a pound for her in June. I made sure she got to eat every one.

She felt the same way about her birthday and Gotcha burgers. She has had several burgers since the cancer diagnosis. 

Here she is eating one from a few years ago.

Isabelle was also the spokespug for our neighborhood. Here she is with me, celebrating our win of an award for our work on the dog park. 

Here are some of my favorite photos of her.

Photo by Erin Kass

Snuggling with her Quincy pug. 

Enjoying her yogurt

Showing off her blog t-shirt.

The first year I had her. Look how chunky she was! Photo by Erin Kass

She learned to like car rides!

Wearing her Grippers, grudgingly. She was the master of "poor pitiful me" looks.

She never learned to like swimming, but the float was a compromise. 

From Dogs Gone Swimming. She tried to eat a giant cookie whole and choked herself that day. Photos by Feist

From the 1000 Pugs photo shoot in New Jersey. 

Possibly my all time favorite photo. She had such sass. Photos by Feist

Modeling her costume for the 2012 parade. She was a farmer.

Modeling the Safari jeep and hat for the 2013 parade.

Her official portrait as Norfolk's first Canine Crusader. Photos by Feist

We met a Twitter friend for dinner at the beach. She could barely see but kept watching the sidewalk.   

Easter 2014. She wouldn't stay in a sit for anything. Photos by Feist

I did the best I could for you, Baby Belle. I'd like to think you knew that.

Isabelle is proof that senior rescues deserve that second chance at life. She had a laundry list of medical problems. Any one of them was enough to keep a pug down. Despite all of that, she enjoyed life. I would do it all again, even knowing how it would end. Senior pugs have so much life left to live and so much love to give. I thank her previous owner for surrendering her to Mid-Atlantic Pug Rescue, that meant that I got to love her for 5 1/2 years. She was the reason I became a founding member of Pugs U Gotta Save. She is the reason I will continue to work in rescue and encourage people to adopt. Especially seniors.

I want to thank our blog friends for posting for Isabelle and embracing us with love and support. I want to thank our Twitter friends who celebrated Isabelle's life with burgers. If you're on Twitter, search #IsabelleBurgerFriday to see all the tweets. I may be physically alone, but I know I have a huge community of pet lovers out there. All wishing us love and comfort. It really, truly helps.

I hope everyone had a burger (or the treat of your choice) in her memory. We will be sad, but we know she's pain-free and bossing everyone around over the bridge. 

She's gone

In true Isabelle fashion, she decided that she was ready to go when she was ready. And she told me she was ready today.

Isabelle passed at 2:20 this afternoon.

Goodbye, my stubborn pug. You will be missed.

Have a burger on Isabelle

Sadly, Isabelle's cancer is winning. Friday afternoon, she will cross the bridge. She'll be in her favorite bed and have a belly full of burger. We encourage everyone to have a burger in her name.

Please send her happy thoughts on Friday at 5 pm. Thoughts of endless sun puddles and never-ending hamburgers. She'll be reunited with her only love, Quincy. 

Hug your fur kids as much as they will let you. 

If love could keep her here, she'd stay forever. Instead, love will let her go peacefully and painlessly. 

Mid-September update on Isabelle

We've been quiet on the blogging front lately. Mom is spending as much time with Isabelle as she can. We know her time is getting shorter, but mom is determined to make her last days as comfortable and as happy as possible. 

At her last vet visit, we discovered that Isabelle has both a compressed spinal disc and one of the worst cases of hip dysplasia that the vet has seen. That explains the pacing and hunched back she's had ever since the first surgery. At first, mom thought it was constipation because that happened too. But when that was resolved and the pacing didn't go away, mom wasn't sure what was going on. Isabelle is now on codeine and a different steroid to make her more comfortable. 

One bonus for her is that she doesn't have to swim anymore. The compressed disk means no strenuous activity until that heals. If all goes well, then she will do more water therapy for her hips once her spine is ok. 

Warming up after a swim

Even with five years worth of vet visits, no one had noticed that she had hip dysplasia. Isabelle hid it really well. The best explanation that mom and the vet could come up with is that she just couldn't fake it anymore with the cancer also making her feel crummy. 

Isabelle does have another tumor in the same area as the first one. It isn't on the surface like the other one. This one is deeper inside her body. Unfortunately, it is growing really fast. Last week it was smaller than a ping pong ball. Now, it's closer to the size of an egg. She is having the tumor removed on Friday, as long as her blood work comes back clear. 

Mom will talk to the vet about the surgery on Monday. If when they open her up, they see more tumors, especially if they are on organs, then Mom will make the decision to let her go. She can't keep having surgeries to remove the tumors every two months. We know that the cancer will move to other places if it hasn't already. 

If it's possible to keep her pain free, mom will ask that she come out of anesthesia. Mom will bring a burger or two to the vet's office and say goodbye. If she will be in pain after coming out of surgery, then mom will ask that she be put to sleep at that time. It wouldn't be fair to bring her out of anesthesia to hurt. 

Until then, Isabelle has been given the greatest gift any pug could ask for. The vet said to feed her as much as she could eat without upsetting her stomach. Mast cancer in particular feeds on carbohydrates. We are trying to starve that sucker. That means no grains which sadly means no cookies. But it does mean lots of straight up meat. Isabelle now gets a lunch meal of cooked beef. She is still eating like a champ. 

This where Isabelle prefers to nap now. 

Not one of her several orthopedic beds. 

Not the super cushy beds or the one with heating pad. 

A cat bed that's too small. 

But it's at mom's feet. 

Location, location, location.

Remembering

Today is September 11. I can still see the images of the planes hitting the towers as clearly as if it was yesterday. Those images were played over and over that day and so many days after that. At first, I couldn't look away. But I was horrified. The first time I saw a plane hit, it felt like my breath was knocked out of me. I fell into a chair.

I was active duty in the Air Force, stationed in San Antonio at the time. I was an instructor. My class was half full of Air National Guardsmen from New York. No one could get through to their families for hours. It was agonizing to watch them not know what happened. It took a day, but everyone was able to get in touch with family.

Our base was already on high alert on September 11. The month before, an angry young man who had been discharged from the Air Force, left a bomb for my First Sergeant. She had received threats from him already, and because of that, she had been transferred to another squadron. The man came into my building and left the package bomb in a bathroom. One of my coworkers found the box and took it the base mail room. She opened it in her office. It was a small, shrapnel bomb. It was intended to do a lot of damage.

Her name is Janet McWilliams. She survived. She lost her left hand, most of the fingers on her right hand, most of her hearing and part of her sight. In 2010, she was the first woman in the US to receive a hand transplant. She survived and continued to be the awesome woman she was. She fought to stay active duty for as long as she could. She refused to let him win.

He was caught pretty quickly. He was in downtown San Antonio, just miles from the base. He was convicted too. He was mentally disturbed, but that's not an excuse. He blamed her for his discharge and went after her. He deserved the death penalty, but didn't get it.

He was first sentenced to life plus in prison. He keeps appealing and from what I can find, he doesn't seem to be reducing his sentence by much. I think he may be down to 90 years at this point. He will never make it out because every time he appeals, Janet goes to court too. She reminds the courts of the damage he did. I think as long as she does that, he will never get out of prison. Intentionally, the judge in San Antonio sentenced him the first time on September 11, 2002.

So I think of her when I remember September 11. I remember how resilient she was. I remember how resilient we all were. I think of how that changed our country for the better and worse. I wish we could back to before though. Every box left unattended makes me wary. I listen for planes to fall out of the sky. I'm not paralyzed by this fear, but it lurks in my unconscious. Beautiful clear days like today and that day aren't as beautiful as they were.

But I tell people I love them more. I make sure that people know I appreciate them. I guess that's all we can do.

Originally published on my other blog

For Greta

Words are never enough in times of sadness. 

Still, we send our love to Greta's family. 

Sending you peace and comfort.

Love never dies.