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My husband and I have a 12-14 year old English Bulldog/Boxer mix, named Knuckles. We found him in 2002, not long after our beloved Chihuahua had died from Cushing's disease. We were walking around downtown Pasadena, CA and this pathetic, skinny, scarred bulldog walked up to my husband and leaned into him while we waited to cross the street. We tried to find him a home, to no avail. He has become my guardian angel, my little trooper.
Anyway, about two years ago, he started doing some funky things: he'd walk up to a wall and scratch on it, thinking the door was there. He was developing cataracts, so we chalked it up to blindness. Knuckles acted normally: he greeted us when we came home, went on his rampages (anyone who's ever had this particular mix knows they love to spend about 5 minuts sprinting in circles around the house), he still ran the fence and played with his brother dog. Anyway, then we moved and he started having accidents in the house: peeing, even after just having been taken out. Pooping in his sleep for no apparent reason. Now, he gets trapped in the bedroom, trapped in the bathroom, stuck in a bookcase. Yesterday, I woke up to him having pooped in his sleep, and then he rolled in it; needless to say, I got up to a poopy dog. Bathing him was a treat, because his left leg has become extremely weak over the past few days. As I write this, he is manically pacing the house, occasionally crashing into stuff.
I know what I have to do...but it's very sad. He barely acknowledges my presence anymore. :(
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