Sigh. You’re not going to see a whole lot of me this weekend, I don’t think.
We had to put our precious whippet, Angelina to sleep last night, after a series of illnesses. Our girl would have been 12 years old July 2nd.
Angelina tried so hard to be strong, but we just couldn’t put her through any more procedures, more medications, long stays at the vet…and the pain she was enduring. She suffered from Addison’s Disease and pancreatitis. This week, she climbed onto the dining room table and ate some candy and just couldn’t recover after her stomach was pumped, given an IV and staying overnight at the vet. In fact, she went into a major decline.
I was numb after we left the vet’s office. Texting people who loved her, getting on Facebook–but today, the heartbreak has consumed me. Even James, our one-eyed boxer doesn’t know what to do with himself. Poor thing.
Having said all that, we used to joke that Angelina was the “Elizabeth Taylor of the Dog World”. She had so many brushes with death over her lifetime, but she always pulled through–even with the ever-present paparazzi, ex-boyfriends, plastic surgery after a nasty run-in with a post, stealing chocolate, struggles with her weight, especially during
NYC Fashion Week The Westminster Dog Show, “suicide attempts” (she climbed onto the bathroom counter, stole my son’s razor, chewed the handle end, thus cutting her wrists on the razorblades–not kidding), and the media (read: ME) who just wouldn’t give her ANY privacy.
It’s the price one pays when you are a beloved Icon of a Whippet, I suppose. Angelina died peacefully surrounded by her family. She was 77
in dog years. We will all miss her snooty, smart, funny, loudmouthed and loving manner.
And no, Angelina’s Jewels will not be up for auction at Christie’s.