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Princess She chose us at an OBG Adoption Clinic shortly after we lost our beloved 13 year-old Black Cocker, Burrfoot. She was Chocolate, with big brown eyes, nearly ten, but acted much younger. Intended to join us on father’s day, her heart held more than enough love for both of us. She came home with us that day as Precious, but soon made known that she was more than Precious, and became the Princess, the Princess of Broadmoor Street, to us, and to the neighbors she met on our twice daily walks. The first few weeks were an adjustment for all of us. Princess was very smart and knew how to get up on tables, find gum packages and drink from the toilet. She never damaged anything, but we quickly learned to secure the gum packages and the bag of candy beside the bed. It didn’t take her long to negotiate a settlement of the ‘on the table’ issue, a severe no-no in our family. She soon had her favorite place in the family room on a low table between two chairs. which Mom equipped with a pillow and padded cushion. There she would strike her Princessly, look over the shoulder, glamour pose while we ate or watched TV. She quickly learned the family routine, and was diligent--we used to say tyrannical--enforcing it. Six am was time to get up, stand by the door for the morning walk, then breakfast. After dinner, the evening walk, rain, snow or fair weather. Then, at bedtime, she would sit at Mom’s feet and agitate until someone went upstairs. During her life with us, Mom was an active quilter, the Princess found that quilts were much to her liking, and that Mom’s lap was very comfortable when a quilt was available. So naturally she ended up with a quilt of her own to sleep on. She would often sleep on my lap, but only if covered with a quilt. The back yard was hers, but she much preferred to stay inside, except when the squirrels got careless and dropped food out of their feeder. She was adamant that anyone who came to the front door be informed that this was her house, the UPS,FEDEX guys and the mailman would cower before her warning, but she immediately accepted them when one of us let them in. She was the Princess and would accept the squirrels, smaller and medium sized dogs, but had no time for larger animals and made every attempt to show the larger dogs they were not welcome. Our neighbor was on the same morning schedule with his little dog, and they became buddies, but he didn’t walk fast enough for her, so they became “nodding" acquaintances. She loved walks, and was alert to everything going on within blocks. She would stop and focus on something way ahead, and sure enough there was another human or animal almost out of my sight. She quickly learned to sit when we came to a curb, and not go until she got the “OK Princess”. She was extremely smart when it came to mail box posts or telephone poles, and never went around them in a way to tangle the leash, very unlike her predecessor. Always eager to go for a walk, in the fall she became even more enthusiastic. It seems that nearly every other house has an apple tree, and, as the apples started to fall, she would carefully pick one out, just the right size and shape, and carry it home to be traded for a cookie. As time went on, she decided that maybe apples were better than cookies, so she would eat a fresh one, and bring another home for trades. Just after the last of the apples were gone this season, we noticed her enthusiasm for walks had diminished, and she seemed to have soreness in her hindquarters. A trip to the Vet resulted in a prescription, which seemed to help a bit, then very shortly afterward she became disoriented and this time we had a complete work up with X-rays, sonogram, and complete blood work. The news was devastating, liver degeneration, potential cancer in the lungs, the prognosis was poor. We took her home for the weekend, facing the inevitable trip to the Rainbow Bridge. From apparently healthy and happy--to this-- in little more than a week. But the worst was yet to come--for all of us. Sunday morning, she made her way downstairs for the prescribed bland breakfast, she ate some, but her breathing seemed a bit labored. She went outside about ten o’clock, and as she squatted, she was wracked with a pain spasm that wouldn’t quit. We wrapped her in a towel and called the Springfield Emergency Pet Hospital, I then ran upstairs to grab street clothes, in those few minutes her pain was so great, that she nearly bit through a wooden chair leg. We gave her a rawhide bone on which to clamp down, carried her to the car and sped over to Springfield. When we arrived, the very understanding Vet on duty prepped her for the Rainbow Bridge. By this time the pain had subsided, but she was still struggling to breathe. She told me she was ready. We sat in the private room, sharing a last few minutes together. As the medication was administered, she raised her head as if to say, “Don’t worry Dad, you’re doing the right thing, thank you.” and, at 10:45, went to sleep. The Princess was with us but a year and a half, in that short time she added much to our lives, and hopefully, we to hers. She appears in this years OBG Calendar, the chocolate cocker with the graying muzzle. To us, she will always be the Princess, the intelligent glamour girl. Our hope is that her story will encourage others to recognize early that unthinkable time when the Rainbow Bridge is indeed the only option, don’t wait, disease can move at an incredible speed with incredible vengeance, no pet deserves the last hour of agony that Princess endured. Please think of her when the question is not “if’, but “when”. Jim & Katherine
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