Let me start this post by saying, I had no intention of having a two dog home in the immediate future. Louis Reginald, my precious Cavalier King Charles Spaniel is my heart, my soul-pup, my life.

In addition, as previously written, I am struggling with a mystery illness that has kept me bedridden for the past three weeks and counting. I have specialists working me up weekly, answers to come.

Being that I am ill, dropping pounds mysteriously and can’t stay awake for more then a few active hours… any sane person knows it is not ideal timing for bringing a new life into our family.

That changed when I was alerted to a tiny mixed breed pup at my local Animal Services, awaiting immediate euthanasia. The pup, weighing in at 2 1/4 pounds at approximately four and a half months of age had been dumped with her litter mates at Animal Services. The rest of the litter either passed away or had been adopted out.

This little one had not found a forever home for a number of reasons: she actively displayed signs of aggression, teeth baring, nipping and biting; she suffered from a variety of nutritional defects, the most life threatening, hypoglycemia and a hacking cough.

Listed as a Yorkie mix, she looks more like a little dwarflike pixie then a dog. Guinea pigs are larger then this dog. Part of her tail is missing, we aren’t sure how that happened, suffice to say, she has more of a little nub then a tail. She is expected to grow to an adult weight of 3-4 pounds, should she survive.

I believed I could save her. Its narcissistic, I know, to think I would be the one to make a difference. So, believing in the power of nutrition, homeopathy and love, I signed paperwork relieving Animal Services of any health or behavior responsibilities.

Covered in the feces she had been living in, the animal smelled horrible, of antiseptic, metal cages, feces, urine and vomit. She proceeded to puke all over me throughout the car ride home. I imagined my husband’s reaction to my bringing home this sickly animal. I started to get nervous.

We stopped at a local vet, I had a complete blood count done and a fecal float to rule out parasites. Miraculously, malnutrition was the only thing we found.

After walking in the door at my home, Louis excitedly greeted the terrified pup while my husband and I discussed the days events.

Together, we washed her in our bathroom sink, trimmed away the hair stained from feces and urine and her newly made over face stared back up at us as Louis looked on.

She remained un-named for the first five days, as her future was uncertain. I gradually started her on a strict regimen of raw feeding, pro-biotics, vitamin supplements and immunity boosters.

Louis was careful with her, providing a place for her to snuggle up and rest and a playmate when she was up for it. She copied him, started to use the piddle pads and started sitting politely.

The cough started to fade. Her once wobbly legs were now supporting mad dashes around our apartment and even beginning leash training!

All of a sudden, she started acting with affection toward my husband and I, snuggling close, enthusiastically wagging her tail nub and even providing the occasional kiss.

Over the next week, her personality started to shine through the trauma of her puppyhood. Playful and affectionate, she hops around the apartment, looking for tidbits to eat and toys to play with. She and Louis’ play became more and more familiar, affectionate and companion like.

It looked like we had indeed, saved her. We are still working to stabilize her completely, but things were going well. We named her Ella and bestowed the middle name ‘Bean’ because of her tiny size.

Yesterday, it all almost unraveled. She was vomiting up rancid materials in amounts the size of her tiny body. She couldn’t stand on her own, she would collapse under the weight of herself, her eyes glazed over, her breathing was slow and inconsistent, her heart was pounding. She refused food or water.

My husband and I took shifts, using a plastic dropper to deliver water down her throat to keep her hydrated. I concocted a mix of sugar and water to keep her from going into hypoglycemic shock. She continued to vomit. We both really thought we were going to lose her. I was frantically reading through every book I have on canine health to try and find solutions, but they all recommended exactly what we were doing.

Slowly, she settled. we continued to deliver water and sugar to her through the dropper. She slept, we kept our hands on her tummy, monitoring her heart beat and breathing. She seemed to have stabilized.

I offered her a small dinner of chicken and she eagerly ate. This morning, we woke to Louis and our little Ella Bean playing rambunctiously. I offered her breakfast, she ate like normal and returned to her previously uneventful schedule of napping and playing.

She made it through yesterday. Her presence in our home has become indispensable. Louis and Ella play and snuggle, we all love and care for her. We will work through whatever comes our way.

Even though, much like me, she is a little bit traumatized, a little unhealthy, a little unstable and a little too skinny, she is a part of our family.

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