River has kindly allowed me to post about Perry.
We lost Perry yesterday. He was 17.
Fifteen years ago I got a call from SOS Beagles about a dog that a man was threatening to shoot. His dog would not hunt--sounds like a joke but in the South that is a serious canine crime. Poor Perry. He was always a bit of a shrinking violet. I picked him up, intending to foster. I adopted him out once but it didn't work out. I didn't want him to suffer another big change like that so I kept him.
Last Wednesday he started throwing up and refused to eat--always a horror with hounds who dearly love food. He spent the next day at the vet's getting fluids and when I picked him up he was feeling so much better. But he went downhill again immediately.
Almost all of my beagles have died of kidney failure--beagles are so healthy in general but they are prone to cataracts, neck problems and kidney problems in old age. Sometimes it's been chronic, sometimes I have only days to say goodbye.
I kept him with me in the bed all Friday night then we sat out on the back deck in the sun Saturday morning. This is the way I like to say goodbye--to share our last moments together in the sun. And I am so grateful when I have a chance to do exactly that.
He will be remembered for his soft and staccato aroo!aroo!aroo! when he wanted attention or his dinner. A gentle and shy boy who will be greatly missed by his family.
Run free, sweet Perry Berry. One day we will meet again, thank goodness.