Her name is actually Phoebe, but we call her Peepers or Peeps or Phoebs most of the time. We were told by a vet when she was just barely 2 years old that she would have to be put down within six months because the arthritis in her hips was so bad. Hmpf! You showed him, Peeps. Of course, as he told us that he also gave us some referral paperwork to a place that does hip replacements for dogs. How unscrupulous! How greedy! How mean! How dare he!
All of her joints are pretty much shot, including her front legs now, but she still has good quality of life. She takes doggie medicine for arthritis, and I think it helps some. She is always so happy though. Always has been. She's the sweetest thing you've ever met. She scrunches her face and squints her eyes when you talk sweet to her. When she was little, everything would make her pee. Happiness, pee. Scared, pee. Excited, pee. She grew out of that after about three years, but she still checks all the time to see if she peed. I guess she still has the sensation to pee, but has learned to control it and doesn't know it.
Happy Birthday, Phoebe! Meaty Bones till you throw up today!