My dear Sweet Simba Lou

January 2, 2007

My dear Sweet Simba Lou

My baby, happy with Momma.
This was New Years Eve or New Years Day.
Simba and I posing for a Christmas Card in 1997 or 1998.
Simba and her baby pig.
Simba at Christmas 2006.

My sweet Simba Lou is gone, she's with the angels. I had to put her down this afternoon. She had her blood work and she was a very sick girl. She had a bad infection, not sure where but her white blood cells were soaring, she had major problems with her kidneys, liver and pancreas. And she had low albumen which is a part of her blood and was not letting her hold onto liquid. Her kidneys were the worst off and there was intensive fluid treatment they could do but they were not sure she'd come back from it and she'd have to always have kidney treatments. I just could not do it to her. She was 14.5 years old and lab crosses have a life expectancy from 11-15 years . The poor girl was down to 40 lbs. when normally she's 55-60, i was shocked to see she lost so much weight. And she had lost muscle mass as well. It was a very difficult decision but i didn't want her to suffer. My poor girl. I went right after work and my mom was already there with her. I just held her and then they let me hold her until she was gone. I'm having her cremated and I will keep her with me somehow. I'm so grateful to my friend Jul who was totally there for me and watched her this a.m. and took her in for me so Simba wouldn't have to be alone and my dear sweet Mamacita, she was there for Simba's final moments. She was so much more than a dog to me. I don't know how I'll function without her.

I raised Simba from 3 days old...she was abandoned and I had the good fortune to get her while living in OR and being married. I was working out of my home at the time and was able to take the time to be up with her all night, every couple hours to feed her queens milk from a baby cat bottle. She soon graduated to a regular baby nipple and she was a chomper. She came to me on her 3rd day with closed eyes and ears and a tail cut off by a razor blade and infected. She was one of 12 puppies and her mom was a full bred rottweiler and had a huge head. She had 12 puppies and they were all rotti except for my Simba. I knew she was the best one. She was so tiny and she was truly my baby. She was about the size of my palm. I took her to the vet and she instructed me how to keep her alive with the queen's milk formula and by teaching her to potty by taking a warm wet cottonball and stimulating her to go potty. The mom licks them to make them go, otherwise they do not know how and will die. When she opened her eyes, she saw me. Mom. I would feed her and then i actually had to burp her and to her dying day she sometimes would eat and come by me and want me to pat her back and she would burp.

She was my baby. She got me through my divorce. She protected me before our divorce. When stupid and I would argue, she'd get right in the middle of us, sometimes kind of cry and make us pay attention to her. She was my protector. She is in my divorce because I had to fight to take her. She is mine and he had visiting rights...but he never exercised them, not once. She was my confidante and she always was there to comfort me. She was my Mamacita's Granddog. That's what she called her. When she showed up today she said, I am Simba's Grandma and they didn't laugh at her. I held her to her last breath and she knew somehow that she was loved.