On Sunday we had our much loved corgi Guido put to sleep. He was 13, but in many ways still had the spirit of a puppy.
Over the last 3 years or so of his life, Guido had gone from being hell-on-four-legs, to being weak in his hind end, to being in a cart, and then being unable to walk at all for about the last year. We carried him wherever he had to go. For outside rides he had his own "buggy", a modified jogging stroller. We took him for walks in the neighborhood in it, and on other outings. Of course we got more than one strange look from folks-there just aren't that many dogs being pushed around on wheels. Most people were very supportive. Guido didn't care what they thought as long as they petted him, and he was quite vocal in making sure they did.
We're not sure if his paralysis was due to degenerative myelopathy (roughly similar to MS in humans) or a blown disk in his back placing pressure on his spinal cord. In the long run, it didn't matter as the care needed was the same for either. Neither caused his demise-it was his increasing, uncontrollable intestinal pain that led us to make the horrible decision every loving pet owner dreads having to make. We've been down that road with other pets before. It never gets any easier. The only comfort is in knowing you are doing what is best for your pet, despite the emotional cost to you.
Back in the day, Guido was all about running and playing. He gleefully herded other dogs as they chased after tennis balls, ran agility courses, and played with the hose and his wading pool. If he thought our other dogs were being too rowdy, he'd act as the "fun police" to break the party up. He was always also a cuddler. We called him our "love sponge"-he soaked up every bit of attention he was given, and asked for more. He had to have lap time every afternoon. When I had to lay on the couch for a week after surgery on a detached retina, he was there with me. Every visitor to the house or doll store was enthusiastically greeted; he especially liked to hold your hand or sleeve in his mouth and take you for a walk.
I like to think he brought out the best in us as he became less mobile. We patiently encouraged him to use his cart for the 6 months it took him to finally accept and start using it. Over the last year, as he became more dependent, his daily care took up more and more time. There was never any question we would do what was necessary for him, no matter how much time it took, what gross things we had to do, or how many trips to the vet we had to make. He was ours, we loved him, and we would never have betrayed his trust. It meant never leaving him alone for more than a few hours at a time, never taking trips together-somebody always had to stay home to take care of him-and especially over the last year, often not sleeping through the night. We'd never had human kids, but we faithfully changed Guido's belly band when he became incontinent, and cleaned up his accidents.
Suddenly we no longer have to do any of those things for him, and it hurts like hell. There is a hole in our hearts, and we are devastated. We would much rather have him around to do all those things for, but not at the cost of his suffering.
We like to think he was met at the Rainbow Bridge by Leo's parents and other pets who have gone before him, and that we will all be together again someday. In the meantime, Helen and Jerome the corgis, and Lurch and Zak the cats need us, and there will be other pets in the future.
We'd like to give special thanks to a few people who contributed so much to Guido's life: Kathi, the breeder who trusted us with him, Dr. G., who thought outside the box when it came to caring for Guido, Cindy at La Paw Spa, who loved Guido as if he were her own and called him her "boyfriend", and Linda, who was always happy to babysit Guido for a few hours so we could have the occasional break and who patiently spent hours keeping him comfortable on the couch. Thanks also to Jean and other corgi friends who supported us and helped us learn how to care for him.
There's more, including pictures and links to pictures here.


Guido was so fortunate to have you both in lis life. He was a wonderful boy and will always be in my heart.
I'm so sorry to hear about your dear sweet Guido. You are in my thoughts and prayers. Warmly, Cathy ^..^
Kathy,
Your devotion to Guido shows how much you loved him. Having read about him on Corgi-L for so long, I feel like the world has lost a celebrity. Truly, Guido was a great ambassador of the Corgi world. He will be missed by so many people. My most sincere condolences go out to you and Leo. You and Leo have done so much to educate others on the care of a dog with paralysis. My thoughts are with you in this difficult time.
Lisa Mushnick
Hi Kathy
First of all I'm happy to meet you again in this blog. I'm reading your entries with a lot of interest and I wanted to comment in some of them but I discovered the blog just yesterday, so I had no time to do it.
So this is the first (hope not the last) time I comment.
I'm very sorry for your lost. I've had pets myself and it's a very hard moment. Each time I hear about the Rainbow bridge my eyes go wet.
So remember you have all my support and love from here, as you have always had.
Don't you think it is curious, most doll lovers are also pet lovers?
Wishing you all the best
Sonia
I'm so sorry to hear about Guido! I wasn't fortunate enough to know him when he was still mobile, but he was a dear when I did meet him, and I'll never forget him sitting in his stroller and "wuff"-ing reproachfully when anyone fell down on the important job of petting. He was truly a charmer.
Your love and devotion to Guido speaks volumes. You all were so fortunate to have shared your lives with each other. I am glad to know you too have hope of the Rainbow Bridge. May your hearts be comforted in the knowledge of the love that was shared.
Hi Kathy-
I thought I'd see how life is going for your guys in retirement bliss and came over to see your blog. I'm so sorry for your loss. Your post speaks for all the love and dedication you had for your fur kid, and I can imagine how much you're grieving right now.
My hugs and thoughs.