It’s looking like Bayley was the victim of «rat poison»:

‘Rat poison was found in the pet food suspected of causing kidney failure that killed at least 16 cats and dogs, but scientists still don’t know how it got there, state officials said Friday. The toxin was identified as aminopterin, which is used to kill rats in some countries, state Agriculture Commissioner Patrick Hooker said.
‘Aminopterin is not registered for killing rodents in the United States, according to the Environmental Protection Agency, though it is used as a cancer drug. State officials wouldn’t speculate on how the toxin got into Menu Foods’ now-recalled pet food but said no criminal investigations had been launched. Scientists at the New York State Animal Health Diagnostic Center at Cornell and at the New York State Food Laboratory tested three cat food samples provided by Menu Foods and found Aminopterin in two of them. Hooker said they would test individual components of the pet food, as well. The early test results were released to give veterinarians a better idea of how to treat sick animals.
‘“Any amount of this product is too much in food,” Hooker said.’
—Associated Press

I think I’ll go be sick now.

Sad moments today: Bayley Murphey Beagle came home for the last time. I picked up his cremains at 11:30 this morning. Whoever did the work did a very nice job (except that they spelled his name, “Bailey” as usual). There is a paw print in plaster, and the cremains are in a very nice cedar box. I put it in the living room with a photo.

It was a very tough time. Along with picking him up and bringing him home, there is more and more news about the recall and how widespread and deadly it is. I think it’s just the tip of the iceberg. Channel 2 news was showing a very sick beagle in Fremont, who got sick after eating the food. It’s a tragedy and a crime. Every time we look on the Menu Foods website, they’ve added additional UPC codes of Authority food that was affected. It’s nasty and disgusting and heartbreaking.

Frank and David had rough moments over seeing the box which holds what’s left of Bayley. Frank couldn’t look inside. David and I unlocked it and looked. There are small bone fragments and dust. David had a very hard time for awhile and didn’t eat dinner. Frank had his moment a little later.

I guess I’m still numb. I’m also really angry. I miss him terribly. It was probably unnecessary and caused by the food we were feeding him. As one lady on the evening news said as she held up a packet of tainted food, “I killed my cat by feeding her this.” I feel the same way. I feel like I killed Bayley by feeding him. And I didn’t even know it.

I hate this. But I’m glad he’s home. I wish he were snoring here on the couch with me. But at least he’s here and not lying on a cold slab somewhere.

We plan to prepare and cook our own food menus for the «Beagle Boys». May Menu Foods rot in hell. Bastards.

Can we agree that I must be in the anger stage of grief?

While cleaning up and pruning the dead hedges that we lost to hard freezes this winter, a piece of branch flew off and hit me right in the eyeball. My vision got cloudy and I’ve got a very red eye.

David ran me to the «eye doctor», which is just a couple of blocks away, and Dr. Ong was able to see me quickly (and for $30). He checked my eyeball out and fortunately it’s just a bad bruise, no tears or other damage. I have to wear my glasses for a week and use some eyedrops to make sure I don’t get an infection, but I’m none the worse for wear.

I will be buying, however, eye protection goggles at Ace Hardware tomorrow.

Yeesh.

Not only was Bayley’s passing painful, but I was also in the middle of the last two weeks of the quarter, getting ready for and in the middle of finals, as well as the evaluations for our school becoming a California Distinguished School (which we did accomplish), a very intense time.

And now comes this weekend’s news that a massive pet food recall is underway. As tragic as it is, it may have finally provided a clue to Bayley’s final illness and why he went from doing very well to very sick over a couple of months. We purchased Authority canned food from PetsMart on Jan. 2, and he began to get sick in February after we began feeding the new stuff to him. We had no clue it was food-related; we just knew that he was “off his feed” and we felt it was that he was slowing down due to age. Unfortunately, he was exhibiting the exact symptoms, followed by kidney failure and death, that dogs and cats affected by the recall were exhibiting. We’ll be further investigating what happened and I’ll be trying again to call the company tomorrow (the 800 number has been busy all weekend).

Tomorrow, I go to the vet to pick up his ashes, a difficult moment. And late last week, I was finally able to post Bayley’s final photos on Flickr. It brought some sense of finality to it, although I’m not quite ready for that yet. The pics are difficult to see, because they show him going from healthy and serene, then feeling sick and sleepy, and finally his last moments, including one taken immediately after he left us. Please don’t click on the link if you’d find them disturbing. For us, they’re also difficult to view because we miss him so much; and for me personally because, looking back now, how could I have been so oblivious to his illness? Yes, he was only a dog; but a dog that was an integral part of the family and a dog that left a huge hole in our lives. If you care to see the pics and say goodbye by leaving a comment, click on this link:

«Bayley’s Last Photos».

Moving on to a brighter and happier note: In one of life’s great and mysterious coincidences/miracles, the beagle of a student of mine brought five beagle puppies into the world exactly a week after Bayley left us. It seems fitting somehow, like it was known that Bayley was crossing the Rainbow Bridge and we’d need wiggly puppies to help comfort us after he was gone. While no other dog could ever take Bayley’s place, nor would we even try, we do know that not having a dog in our lives is not something we want. If we can’t have Bayley, we need a new beagle. We’re dog people, dog lovers, and we need a beagle in our life.

Or … maybe … three beagles. I always regretted that we didn’t bring Bayley’s two brothers home when we had the chance. He was always somewhat lonely and never very well socialized with other dogs. I was determined to not repeat that mistake. As they say, more dogs = less trouble because they have each other. They get into less mischief and chewing of bad things.

So, we were able to go over to the Allens’ house here in Brentwood this evening, where we were graciously met by my student Ashley, her brothers, and her mom and dad, and also graciously accepted by the very sweet Ginger the Beagle, who made no fuss at all as we handled her puppies. Buddy the Beagle, who is their dad, was resting at his own home, so we weren’t able to meet him. But he’s supposedly just as sweet as Ginger. The Allens have spent the last two weeks praying over the puppies, hoping they ended up in a good home. So, it’s working out well for all concerned.

The puppies’ eyes are just beginning to open and we bonded with them immediately. There are two girls (who will end up in other homes) and … «drumroll please» … three boys, who will be coming to live with us here on Wexford in early May.

Yes, you read correctly. Three beagles. Here in May. Yes, I’m insane. But you already knew that, right?

We therefore proudly introduce to you Feargal, Fergus, and Fredrik, the Beagle Boys, who pose along with their mom and two sisters, Isabel and Jasmine on Flickr:

«Feargal, Fergus, and Fredrik: First Photos».

To explain the names: In keeping with St. Patrick’s Day and my Irish heritage, we decided to be a bit goofy. Officially, they are Feargal Bayley O’Dougal, Fergus Bayley O’Dougal, and Fredrik Bayley O’Dougal – the middle name is in honor of Bayley Murphey, of course, and O’Dougal is in honor of Kit and Erin’s beloved black Labrador, the late and fierce fetching warrior, Rudy Dougal.

Feargal and Fergus are good old Irish names meaning “Strong Warrior” and “Fierce Warrior.” Fredrik plays on Frank’s Swedish heritage and means “Peaceful Warrior.” And of course, “Warrior” is Beagle-ese for “Let’s see how much chaos we can create before Dad gets home.” Plus, Feargal, Fergus, and Fred are alliterative, not to mention doofus-y and silly and goofy, just like beagles. The Allen kids named them Cinnamon, Sabre, and Rocky, as kids are wont to do, but we’re probably going with our Triple F Threat names. Frank came up with Feargal and Fergus after an internet search; Fred occurred to me because Little Ricky’s dog on I Love Lucy was named Fred. It’s probably all moot; they’ll most likely respond to just about anything, except when they don’t want to, which will be often. Such is life with beagles.

The Bayley chapter in our lives is closing, albeit very reluctantly. The new chapter is opening. Life, as they say, has a way of going on, even when those we love are no longer part of it.

The boys’ lives will be chronicled at a new website I’ve set up. Note the s in the domain name. Can’t just be singular AirBeagle anymore when there will be three of them running around:

«AirBeagles.Net».

Gonna be an interesting summer!

Just call him «Mike»:

‘With these brave fighting men and women in place, the architects of disaster refuse to admit any error. People must “support the troops,” they insist, and forget that the reason for their going was a lie, forget that the loss of lives, the loss of limbs, the loss of minds, and the monumental destruction is completely unnecessary. Of course we should support the troops — by getting them the hell out of there.
‘The results we’re told to celebrate could have been achieved at a fraction of the cost, human and economic, if our leaders had the courage to respect the law. Instead, truth has become lie, and lie truth. Echoing El Salvador’s General Jose Guillermo Garcia’s villainous claim that “all peasants are potential subversives,” today’s young soldiers are told that “all Arabs are potential insurgents.” In Fallujah, Haditha, Baghdad, and elsewhere, our young again destroy the village in order to save it, while the Pentagon prepares the “Salvador Option,” sending death squads to destroy selected targets. How low can we stoop and remain America?’
—Alternet

Amen, Beej!

I received a call this evening from a nurse at the emergency hospital where we took Bayley when he had his seizure last week, the start of our horrifying ordeal. Seems his blood work revealed no evidence of bacterial infection.

Which means that his kidneys failed from old age, most likely, according to the nurse and the vet. I feel somewhat better knowing that it wasn’t anything we could prevent and that he didn’t ingest anything in the back yard. Still, this huge hole in my heart won’t go away and the house echoes with emptiness and silence.

I keep expecting to hear a snort or see a nose poked around the corner of a room or beautiful brown eyes peeking over the edge of the bed waiting for a lift up. When Frank comes home, there is no rapturous joy and frenzied howling. When I come home at 4, since Unca David is now back at work, there is no one here.

And it’s truly horrible. It sucks and I don’t like it.

I’m sorry Bayley Beagle, but we weren’t ready for you to go yet. You had a great run and gave us much joy and happiness, but … it still seems too fleeting.

We miss you Pookie. Sleep well.

Bayley Murphey Beagle
20-Aug-1994 — 2-Mar-2007

Dear Bayley Murphey,

Thank you for being such a wonderful and good dog, a loving companion, for keeping us sane, for loving us unconditionally, for being such an incredibly important part of our lives for 12-and-a-half years. Thank you for putting up with all the picture-taking, ear rubbing, nail clipping, bathing, teefs-brushing and hugs and kisses. Thank you for curling up against us on cold, winter nights. Thank you being the touchstone of our lives. Thank you for being you.

We tried hard to give you a good life, full of all the things that good dogs such as you deserve. From the time of your puppyhood until today, you tried so hard to be good and please us, and you always did. We are richer for having had you in our lives, much, much poorer for your passing. Your suffering is over, now it’s time to run baying through the fields, chasing rabbits, rolling in squirrel pee, and lying under a tree gnawing a never-ending supply of beagle bagels.

Rest and sleep well, pookus. You leave a very large hole in our hearts and our lives.

Love,
Dad, Unca Frankie, and Unca David.

It is with tremendous sorrow that Frank and I (and Unca David) must tell you that our beloved beagle, Bayley Murphey, passed away this evening, at 5:35 p.m. PST, Friday, 2-March-07, age 12 years and 6 months.

Bayley had been slowing down considerably in the last six months, but we chalked that up to advancing age and didn’t think much more of it, because he still seemed to be his same old familiar self. But he started getting seriously ill — and being seriously and observably not himself — about three weeks ago. He started drinking way more water than usual, shivering and shaking a lot, losing his appetite and also losing weight, becoming listless and lethargic, and eventually spending most of the day asleep and having to be carried up and down the stairs even to do his business.

Before we went to sleep on the morning of February 28, we had put him to bed in his usual spot between us as usual — intending to take him to a vet this weekend to see what was wrong — and at 2:30 a.m., he started having a frightening and intense seizure, unlike anything either of us had ever seen before. We rushed him to the emergency care facility in Antioch and were told that he had acute renal failure, cause unknown, and was blind from the seizure. The blindness would clear up in a couple of hours, but more seizures were possible. Acute renal failure is usually seen in dogs who have consumed anti-freeze, but if he had ingested something like that, it would have happened very quickly, not spread over three weeks. We will never know the exact cause, but other than the possibility of a toxic plant or chemical in the back yard, it was most likely due to his age. We had known that something was strange with him but had no way of knowing that it was anything this bad.

The emergency hospital took care of him for five hours, and then we took him to a regular vet in Brentwood when they opened. That vet was not optimistic and put him on a course of IV fluids and antibiotics for 48 hours, and we took him home during the evenings. I stayed up through the night with him while he continued fluid infusions on an IV line. Unfortunately, Bayley’s blood counts, though they did improve, didn’t bounce back enough to justify continuing to put him through all of this. He didn’t get any stronger and couldn’t/wouldn’t eat anything. By the end of this week he had already lost 15 pounds and was quite weak. The poisons were building in his body again.

After work on Friday night, with the vet telling us that Bayley had “hit the wall,” we concluded that putting him to sleep was the only realistic alternative to letting him die a slow and agonizing death, probably from starvation. Before this illness, we had hoped that he would eventually just get older and die in his sleep one day, sparing all of us this kind of situation, but unfortunately, it was not to be. I signed the euthanasia order, a very painful moment.

We were able to spend a final hour or so with him, saying goodbye. Finally, I told the vet we were ready, and Unca Frankie, Unca David, and I gathered around him holding him. I held his head and talked to him as the vet slid the injection syringe into the IV line. It was over in less than 10 seconds. He died very peacefully, sliding away into sleep as I held his head.

Because I don’t want to leave him behind in California if (when!) we get to leave, Bayley will be cremated and his ashes returned to us within two weeks.

Thanks for bearing with me through this long and difficult e-mail. And to those of you who welcomed Bayley into your homes from time-to-time, or befriended him during visits to our home, thank you for taking him into your heart. We miss him terribly. It’s amazing the impact a little dog can have on your life, and the hole that results from his passing.

Give your animals (or kids, or spouses, or even a stranger on the street) a hug. Life is all too fleeting and short.

Frank wrote the following to our friends in LA, and it’s a nice coda: “Lord Byron once described a deceased dog as “one who possessed beauty without vanity, strength without insolence, courage without ferocity, and all the virtues of man without his vices.” Those words better describe Bayley than any I could come up with.”