Stanley the Basset

If you’ve been one of my clients chances are you’ve seen photos on my phone of my babies, seen my dogs highlighted all over my instagram feed, and talked with me about their crazy habits. I’m sure you’ve heard about how much I adore my basset hounds (no, I don’t love my mutt Peewee any less than them, I just gush over their wrinkles and folds and sad eyes) and you’ve heard about how I rescued my Stanley. I’ve had him for 8 years now and he has been my shadow ever since I brought him home. His owners tied him to a tree and moved, just leaving him there by himself as they moved onto their new lives. Neighbors eventually called animal control and the rescue I worked for got the call about him. I was the one who did the pickup and transport to the animal hospital so Stanley could be evaluated. I saw how emaciated he was, how infected his eyes are ears were, how he had no skin, and he and I both cried all the way to the animal hospital. I kept tabs on him, requested to foster him, and adopted him into our family after he had been with us for about 8 months. Funny story- I adopted Stanley behind my husband’s back because he was against us keeping him. Stanley knew Justin wasn’t the biggest fan of him, so every night Stanley would poop on Justin’s side of the bed and Justin would step in it on his way to the bathroom. Every. Single. Time. (I still laugh at this)

He’s been on borrowed time for awhile, all the vets who have seen him say he’s at least 14 years old. In basset years that’s insane because their life span is usually about 10 years. He’s blind in one eye, completely deaf, and I found out Thursday of last week that he’s dying. Our vet confirmed advanced liver and spleen cancer and estimated Stanley to have a few weeks left with us before we have to let him go. We lost our female basset Sophie last November and I’m still getting used to not having her around.

So until it is time to say goodbye I’ll be snapping as many selfies as I can with my Stanley man. I’ll be breathing in his terrible breath and jumping out of bed at 6am when he wakes me up to feed him.

Andrea King Photography

Memphis Tn Photographer

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