SkooterIsMe
Boxer Booster
My last boxer before Harley (my boxer son who is still here) was named Cinnamon, but we called her Muffin more often than not. She passed on in February of this year. She lived only 8 and a half years, and had many health problems throughout life.
Many of these are related to the fact that before we rescued her at 4 months of age, she had been neglected and starved. According to my experience, my vet, and my research, when a dog has been starved, she will feel like she needs to always eat, no matter what. She's not sure if this meal will be her last. That's the way Muffin was. She would gobble down as much food as possible as fast as possible. She would howl and cry and pace in circles when we wouldnt feed her more than she really needed. Her persistance always got the best of us; we'd feel like horrible people if we didnt feed her every time she wanted us to.
The vets say it's not entirely our fault that she weighed about 115 pounds when she died. But I feel responsible. We got Muffin when I was only 9, so her feeding wasn't up to me. But once she developed arthritis in her hip at 3 years of age, I realized that she was too overweight. I tried to put her on a diet, refusing her cries for more food when she didnt need it. But my mom and brother gave in to her every time, counteracting the good I was trying to do. When I moved in with a friend, and Muffin was in the primary care of my mom, she worsened.
She always had small non-cancerous tumors in-between her front toes, and we had them all removed. She developed a tumor on her front right leg that grew to be larger than a grapefruit. Vets couldnt do anything about it; it was wrapped around an artery to her heart. It was later confirmed to be cancer. This made exercise very difficult for her. She was always as happy as a boxer can be, but she had a harder time showing it. She also developed mange, which my mom fixed my feeding her protein-rich eggs every day (didnt help her weight problem, but made her coat come back super shiny). This girl went through a lot, but she never stopped smiling.
She sadly spent her last few days at the humane society because my mom got arrested and the people I was living with refused to let me take her there. I surrendered rights to the humane society and they made her last days comfortable. It still breaks my heart 9 months later to think that she died without her family. But it was her time. With her health, her quality of life was not something to be desired.
It was discovered after she died that she had lung cancer, probably caused from 8 years of my mom's cigarettes. One lung was completely toast, and the other one was in horrilbe shape. It amazes me that Muffin, my sister was still able to wiggle like boxers do and greet me with the enthusiasm we're all familiar with. Even with a tumor around an artery and bad lungs, she still made every effort to show how much she loved us all.
I kept her dog bed. The foam part of it, Harley sleeps on now. It had been under my bed for a while. When I brought Harley home, he would spend a lot of time under my bed, on the foam mattress. I finally decided to pull the bed out for him to use, because he loved it soo much. It might have something to do with Muffin's scent still being there, and there was no stopping him from laying on it. But the blanket cover, I keep in a bag in my room. It has Muffin's hair and her scent all over it. It's the best connection that I have to her. Pictures of her only do so much. Being able to still smell her now is the best way to really remember who she was.
Losing Muffin broke my heart. And though Harley is in NO way a replacement for her, he healed me. I cant be without a boxer. It just gives me peace to know that Muffin's suffering has ended, and I'll see her again someday, because as they say in the movie, All Dogs Go To Heaven.
Many of these are related to the fact that before we rescued her at 4 months of age, she had been neglected and starved. According to my experience, my vet, and my research, when a dog has been starved, she will feel like she needs to always eat, no matter what. She's not sure if this meal will be her last. That's the way Muffin was. She would gobble down as much food as possible as fast as possible. She would howl and cry and pace in circles when we wouldnt feed her more than she really needed. Her persistance always got the best of us; we'd feel like horrible people if we didnt feed her every time she wanted us to.
The vets say it's not entirely our fault that she weighed about 115 pounds when she died. But I feel responsible. We got Muffin when I was only 9, so her feeding wasn't up to me. But once she developed arthritis in her hip at 3 years of age, I realized that she was too overweight. I tried to put her on a diet, refusing her cries for more food when she didnt need it. But my mom and brother gave in to her every time, counteracting the good I was trying to do. When I moved in with a friend, and Muffin was in the primary care of my mom, she worsened.
She always had small non-cancerous tumors in-between her front toes, and we had them all removed. She developed a tumor on her front right leg that grew to be larger than a grapefruit. Vets couldnt do anything about it; it was wrapped around an artery to her heart. It was later confirmed to be cancer. This made exercise very difficult for her. She was always as happy as a boxer can be, but she had a harder time showing it. She also developed mange, which my mom fixed my feeding her protein-rich eggs every day (didnt help her weight problem, but made her coat come back super shiny). This girl went through a lot, but she never stopped smiling.
She sadly spent her last few days at the humane society because my mom got arrested and the people I was living with refused to let me take her there. I surrendered rights to the humane society and they made her last days comfortable. It still breaks my heart 9 months later to think that she died without her family. But it was her time. With her health, her quality of life was not something to be desired.
It was discovered after she died that she had lung cancer, probably caused from 8 years of my mom's cigarettes. One lung was completely toast, and the other one was in horrilbe shape. It amazes me that Muffin, my sister was still able to wiggle like boxers do and greet me with the enthusiasm we're all familiar with. Even with a tumor around an artery and bad lungs, she still made every effort to show how much she loved us all.
I kept her dog bed. The foam part of it, Harley sleeps on now. It had been under my bed for a while. When I brought Harley home, he would spend a lot of time under my bed, on the foam mattress. I finally decided to pull the bed out for him to use, because he loved it soo much. It might have something to do with Muffin's scent still being there, and there was no stopping him from laying on it. But the blanket cover, I keep in a bag in my room. It has Muffin's hair and her scent all over it. It's the best connection that I have to her. Pictures of her only do so much. Being able to still smell her now is the best way to really remember who she was.
Losing Muffin broke my heart. And though Harley is in NO way a replacement for her, he healed me. I cant be without a boxer. It just gives me peace to know that Muffin's suffering has ended, and I'll see her again someday, because as they say in the movie, All Dogs Go To Heaven.
