Paws for life or pause for death

This isn't about renovating the house or traveling or adventures. This is about one of those things that happens in life. You know it's gonna happen, you even anticipate it, but the reality of it still sucks.

We're not the only ones to go through a pet's illness and death; we've been through it before, and this, by far, isn't the worst thing that could be happening to us. But. It. Sucks.

So, i'm writing this as a way to grieve.

Haley was a young rescue, covered in scars, no tail, and a heart full of love and hope. She chose Dan. She followed him like he was the moon and the stars and the sun. Like he had liver treats in his pockets. Food was everything to her, and yet she loved Dan more.

Waiting for Dan to come home:

She was accident-prone but always a good healer, through injuries and illnesses. A few years ago, her kidney values were wanky, but there was no explanation for it. We started a kidney-protective diet. It was hard to deny her some of the foods she loved, but she ate well.

Her kidneys continued to decline and we realized, for real, that chronic kidney disease is a progressive disease, fatal, as in not-gonna-get-better-ever real. Just when we started this journey, the disease pushed her blood pressure up to the point that we needed to start treating it. Her hind legs were too weak to get her in and out of the car, but she would not be picked up. We got creative.

She was brave and good during the endless days stuck in a car, being man-handled in and out for pee stops, staying in strange places (hotels), and learning to use puppy stairs to get on and off of the bed. She cooperated with vet after vet along the trip to get her blood pressure monitored.

Hotels, hotels, hotels!

Then she decided to stop eating the prescription kibble. I couldn't revert to her favorite foods, they're all verboten for kidney patients. So every fews days there was another subtle change in the mix of prescription food, people food, and regular food--canned and kibble.

She was doing well, even though muscle loss continued to weaken her hind legs. It was sweet to see her excitedly stumble across the street from apartment to the house to see Dan. She was so impossibly cute when she would get excited and try to bound up the few stairs from the patio into the house. When we left her there alone with her big cushion and treats, she would wiggle and prance and run from me to Dan, relieved that we had returned and not abandoned her.

Then the soft stools started. After a week, diarrhea. I tried giving her only prescription diet. Then i tried plain white rice, hoping to bulk things up. One night she ate a whole bowl, the next day she wouldn't touch it. She was now 35 lbs, 10 lbs below her prime weight. This dog LOVED food her whole life; fuck it, i was gonna feed her whatever she wanted (with a bit of white rice to staunch the diarrhea).

On 2 March, Thursday, we decided her diarrhea had gotten too thin: it was yellow and frothy. Quick Google search = parasite or liver problem. Gotta see the vet. We are new in town, she didn't have a vet yet, and most vets are closed for the weekend. No one could see us on Thursday, but Green Meadow Animal Hospital double booked us for Friday afternoon.

Thursday night, no one slept. Every 1 to 2 hours we were out walkies. Mostly to relieve gas and discomfort, sometimes to dribble a bit. She looked at us, and it was as though the light had gone out of her eyes. Friday, she perked up when awake and ate, but otherwise napped a lot. Vet was considerate, listened, and responded. We got meds for her tummy pain and possible parasite infection.

Definitely not feeling good:

Friday night was awful. Every 20 to 40 minutes we were out walkies. She could not rest. We walked and walked. We walked in circles around the vacant lot from 6 am to 8 am, when she finally passed out in bed. When she woke at 10:30, she would not take any meds or eat. Not even her favorite favorites.

Vacant lot where we walked (and walked):

Saturday, she dozed on her cushions at the house while Dan worked and i ran errands. Late that afternoon, she was shivering with pain. We thought about the vet, but the vet was closed. I melted cheese and wrapped it around her pain meds. She took it and relaxed and went back to resting for the evening. Relaxed so much so, that we were sure she would die in the night.

Dozing at the house:

We tucked her in bed between us and were prepared for a vigil or a wake. She slept for a few hours, then asked for water. Then asked to pee... and walked out on her own to do it! She slept then in her own bed for several more hours, another pee, some water, and back to her bed.

Sunset across the parking lot:

When she woke at 7 am on Sunday, i prepared her meds, each in a different disguise: pain meds in the melted cheese, tummy meds in the scrambled egg, and blood pressure in a canned-dogfood ball. She ate all three! I prepared a plate of lean boiled beef, egg, canned food, and topped it with cheese. She ate it all and asked for more. But even after going for a short walk and getting settled on the couch, her look clearly said she was done. She could not endure more.

At the emergency vet's office, she said goodbye at 12:10 on 5 March 2017.

RIP, little bamboozles baby.

We know we did the right thing for her. Now it's a matter of knitting over that hole in our lives where she used to be. We won't be remembering her last days, but instead thinking about her mischievous antics and mishaps, cuddles and quirks over the past decade. Rescuing another pup in her honor might help, but it would not be practical for any of us so close to our move overseas. It might be a while before i care to update the blog again, but i will.