Jessie as a puppy, sitting in a snowbank in Canada.
I spent a great deal of time thinking about Jessie this weekend. Saturday marked a year since we lost her as we made our way from California to Connecticut. Such a long life we shared together that all came to an end in the state of Oklahoma. I took a great deal of time to think about our little girl and our lives together this weekend. This of course got me to thinking about the fact that we almost lost her many years before due to some strange and obscure health issue. You can read about her ordeal in the article I wrote years ago. The little dog that could.
As I thought about what we went through as she and I both fought to keep her alive I wondered about plasma. As a last dish attempt to save her, Jessie was sent to a specialist to have a plasma transfusion. At the time I never questioned it; we just did it in hopes of saving her. But with all my thoughts of her this weekend I wondered what the difference is between a blood transfusion versus a plasma transfusion. So off I head to the computer to do some research. What I found was that there is a huge amount of information about the subject and that it can get quite complicated.
There is a good chance that Jessie's plasma came from Hemopet. When we were a week into Jessie's mystery affliction that had seen no improvement with all the different things that they had tried, a plasma transfusion was required. I'm trying very hard to remember what they had said but that is over 10 years ago now. I have all the paper work from that time but I need to dig it out and have a read. I do remember that it was suppose to help her little failing body; but it did not. After her transfusion there was no improvement and in the end it was a tiny little pill; prednisone that saved her life.
I will look up her information today and add a note at the bottom of the blog.
What a little fighter she was. Jessie was a very typical Jack Russell; a little spit fire ready to rumble at the drop of a hat. She ruled our home for nearly 16 years and although her body was tiny her presence huge. The last year for us has seen great change. I constantly think of that little mighty girl and often think that I see her out of the corner of my eye. A random white towel or pillow left on the ground can have me taken a second look. I swear I can still hear her going through the dog door and every time I feed the dogs I am reminded of her. Elsa learned that meal time was when the little dynamite white dog would come charging full force into the kitchen and often slamming into the oven as she tried to stop.
They are never really gone. A year after, she can still make me smile as I think about her force. What a force to be reckoned with; the mighty little Jessie, what a girl.