Okay, another trauma in my life. My puppy Bear has died. I came home from school and he was okay, then when the Husbear came home from the salon, he didn’t come running as he normal does. The Husbear came in and asked if Bear had gotten out, so we went out back and called for him, and he came dragging himself out from around the house. We could tell something was wrong. The Husbear called the vet, and they weren’t sure what it was without seeing him. The Husbear though he had parvo (even though they had been vaccinated already), but wasn’t sure. You could see Bear’s life slipping from him as we watched. I sat with him for a while, crying like a baby (after all, this was my first puppy!), and a terrible rainstorm started up. So I lifted him from where he was lying and placed him in his doghouse, knowing he may not be alive the next time I saw him. After the storm had passed an hour later, I went back to check on him again, and he had died. Needless to say, I was upset for the next day or so. We had our other puppy checked and he showed no signs of parvo, so we’re still not sure if that’s what killed Bear, although the symptoms matched. So, no more pets for me–I just can’t take the emotional trauma of it all.

Well, I should probably be shot for not updating anything in a while, but sometimes some things just have to take a back seat to other things. I’ve finished two weeks of school so far, and am still trying to figure out how to juggle school and the salon (especially since it’s the middle of tanning season as well), and have time to spend with my hubby on top of all that!

What else has happened? We had to get find homes for all but two of the puppies (and Seven, the mother, as well). They had become a “pack” and continually kept digging their way out of the yard and “terrorizing” the neighboorhood. We have kept the two most docile of the litter, naming them “Bear” and “Brownie.”