Losing a Friend

A friend has a 10-year old lab whom Bella adores. Amber was a young pup when she befriended my previous dog, Lucy, and Bella and Amber have a similar relationship. Bella LOVES Amber. Amber thinks Bella is special, but sometimes a pain in the neck. TOO MUCH ENERGY! But each time they see each other, it's joyous for both of them.

Amber was recently diagnosed with Mast Cell Tumors. These are common skin tumors that can pop up anywhere, at any time and for Amber, this has been the case. Her owner has tried an experimental chemo therapy treatment that eradicated a set of tumors, but new tumors appeared in other locations. The new regime is a daily chemo pill and my friend says the only indication she has that Amber may not be feeling well is she seems a bit more tired. Whether this is factual or my friend is super sensitive is moot.

We haven't allowed the dogs together since the diagnosis as we were both concerned Bella's exuberance to see Amber might be too overwhelming for the old girl. But now, knowing Amber seems to be feeling okay, I want the dogs together for both of their sakes.

Low and behold, as the universe always provides, Patricia McConnell's recent two-part blog entry speaks to dealing with a dog's grief. I have never had more than one dog at a time, but I know from my sister that dogs most definitely grieve. She had two lab mixes and though one was substantially larger, he was definitely not the boss. When his "sister" died, Amos went into a long a profound grief, expressed by lack of energy and enthusiasm; no desire to eat; no inclination to interact. My sister said one day she was walking Amos when ahead of them appeared a black lab that looked like his old compatriot. For the first time in weeks, his ears perked, his tail went up, he picked up his step to get closer, but on a single sniff, his ears and tail drooped and he turned away.

I believe animals do grieve. I want Bella to be able to spend time with Amber while she is still here, and luckily my friend agrees.

The Beauty of Aging Dogs

Bella is not an old dog, she's a young pup of two and a half years. Her best dog buddies, however, are mature. Boone is six and Amber, ten. Although they are nice to Bella, her energy can be a bit overwhelming for them. This Christmas, Amber and her owner will be joining us. Bella's half-sister, Molly, a young girl of three who is "mature" by nature, will also be there. There is a chance our in-laws' in-law's dog will be joining us also. If that's the case, he is younger than Bella. I'm anticipating a packed house with a fair amount of chaos.

Amber, the matriarch, and Molly, the mellow, will be the calm in the storm. There is something quite magnificent about an older dog. They know the rules; they are tried and true. Their lovely, graying muzzles exemplify their inherent dignity. They ask very little of your time, but never shirk their duty to greet you, follow you, or lend their head for stress-reducing pats.

Bella's best buddy, Amber.

Our first dog Suzie, was a two-year old pound-puppy  when she came home with me. She wasn't a big dog; at her heaviest she was only a hair over 45 pounds. At the time, dog food had not progressed in "healthfulness" to the extent it has today, but I tried to feed her well and she certainly got plenty of exercise. Perhaps it was her small size and good genetics, but Suzy was mountain biking with us up until she was 14 and even joined us on short rides for two more years. At 16, she was content to limit her activities to non-strenuous hikes and for two more years, small walks. Suz made it to 18. What a blessing she was! She will always have a special part in my heart reserved just for her.

Miss Lucy, my poor sick hound dog, barely crested 11. Even though she was a handful, I felt quite deprived that her time with us was so short. My fingers are so crossed that Bella makes a Guinness record for longevity.

There are two Internet links I want to share with you about old dogs. This one is from Bark magazine about a little, bitty mutt named Betsy who celebrated her 21st birthday back in August. A legal drinker! You go, Betsy-girl! I hope she's still with us; how awesome she's made it so long!

The other site is from the Daily Mail out of England and features some of the search and rescue dogs from 9/11 that are still with us. Look at the pictures. What lovely old faces! If you have an old hound, how lucky you are! If you've adopted an older dog, three cheers to you! Let their loyalty and love bring out the best in you.

Woof

I heard Lucy bark at 4:16AM this morning. I woke with a start. It was her gravelly, older dog, partially paralyzed larynx bark and was clear as a bell. At first I thought she was hurt, but realized she is at peace now and prefer to think she was saying goodbye or that she was okay; she was on her journey...that in front of her, lay a huge, sunny field filled with little rodents to snort out or bunnies to chase.

Saying Goodbye

I take part in an on-line dog forum. I don't personally know any of the participants, but they have been quite extraordinary in sharing their experience, thoughts and feelings. They've been particularly invaluable to me through Lucy's crises.

The last couple of days I've been struggling with ethics. How do I know when it's right for Lucy to go? Do I wait until she no longer can stand or eat? Do I put her to sleep while she's still functional? She's been panting a lot the last several days—rapid, prolonged panting, and I feel this is a sign of pain, not the prednisone. My husband and I talked about acupuncture over drugs as Lucy is so sensitive to pain killers; they turn her into a zombie. He felt any mitigating care wasn't fair either as it was just prolonging a life that was ready to let go. Yet he couldn't put her to sleep while she was still walking, eating and joining us for baby bike rides. And that too, was my dilemma.

When I posted my concerns and confusion in the dog forum, one wonderful participant sent me a private message offering her story. They chose to put their dog down before pain became his constant companion. Her note clarified my dilemma. It wasn't about me (and my ethical conundrum). It was about Lucy, her comfort and life quality. As a dog owner, you assume their care and well being. No matter how much we love them, the bottom line is their best interest regardless of our pain at losing them. So I talked to my husband about this and told him he needed to prepare himself emotionally for this eventuality...that this weekend may be the time we put her to sleep, if Lucy could wait that long.

Lucy is hard-wired for running. Each weekend we have taken her on baby bike rides of 1-2 miles. Each time she has been willing, eager and able. Walks have not been as enticing for her, so the last several days, she hasn't always been interested in her morning or afternoon outings. When she has gone, the walks have been quite short. The prednisone has kept her hungry, so her appetite is good. Last evening, sometime after she ate, she went into the back yard. For some reason, I felt I needed to watch her. She paced the yard. She looked like she wanted to poop, but couldn't; looked like she was trying to vomit, but couldn't. I rushed out to check on her and found her tummy quite swollen and rock solid and feared bloat. I called the hospital to bring her in. Luckily they were still open, and remained open until we got there. Kate wasn't on duty, but another vet, whom we like, was there along with some of the staff and techs I know well.

Lucy threw up several times in the van and I know she was uncomfortable doing this despite how awful she obviously felt. The techs and vet were wonderful. The vet said it wasn't bloat, but that something was definitely going on in Lucy's abdomen and she offered an xray. Instead, we opted for sleep. Lucy had been given 2-4 weeks to live and had just crested the half-way mark. She wasn't comfortable anymore and had started withdrawing from us. Yes, she might be in the same room, but she wasn't participating, wasn't watching us, wasn't keen on patting anymore.

The vet techs put a big, blanket-covered pad on the floor and a catheter in her back leg so that the drug would go in cleanly.We got down on the floor with her and were able to be with her until the end and then some. It was very fast, but our hearts are broken. She was such a fine, fine hound.

Taking things as they come

Saturday was a gorgeous day; one of those "foolers" that makes you think spring is here. I worked a bit in the yard, but really had to restrain myself from doing too much (and run the risk of plants getting zapped by a sure-to-happen frost). Lucy was in the yard with me happily soaking up the sun. So why was I depressed?

I think weekends are harder because I am with her 24/7 and can witness minute by minute how she is doing. Scrutiny that is that close reveals the changes I miss during the week while working. I don't always want to see them. She's slower. Her breathing is more labored. Her hacking is back. Her energy is low.

I decided to try focusing on the positive. She's here. Very positive. She eats well (in fact, she's always hungry). Positive. She still loves her cocktail ball. Positive. On Sunday, we decided to see if she'd be interested in a little run. Once those van doors opened, she leapt (yes, leapt) in. She ran (loped) about 2.5 miles. Now what's not positive about that?

I had made an appointment with a holistic vet, but my husband was not keen on my taking Lucy in. He recently lost his mother to cancer and saw her go through the medical gamut. He didn't want Lucy to suffer through that. I know it is different for a dog. The medication isn't as powerful; the acupuncture is supposed to ease discomfort. I cancelled the appointment, but may call her again and discuss in more details her costs and the procedures.

Perhaps I'm throwing darts at a moving target, but isn't this what everyone does when they fear they are losing someone (in this case, my lovely hound) they love?

Drug Reconnaissance

Lucy's drugs are running low, so I emailed the vet and got her response. The Sucralfate, Famotidine and Metronidazole can be stopped and saved for later use, if necessary. The antibiotics should be continued for another couple of weeks (depending on what a second xray shows) and the Prednizone is a lifer, for as long as we are blessed with her presence.

Days of Grace

Lucy had been doing well since late Saturday. We didn't have any other bicycling opportunities, but she's been alert and perky on walks. And of course with prednisone, food has kept her focused. She's even been playing with her cocktail ball again and with the benefit of antibiotics, her nose isn't quite as drippy as it's been in the past.

Our contact at SVS, Becca, called the other day to check on Lucy and I gave her the bad news. I must say, we've been extremely fortunate with the vets we've chosen. They've been attentive, in general, and hugely supportive at present.

My husband made a comment last night that gave us pause. It was something we'd both been thinking, but had chosen not to voice—that old "if I don't say it, it doesn't exist" kind of thing. I mentioned how Lucy doesn't like as much rubbing as she used to, so I was only lightly rubbing her now. He said that's because her body hurts and is uncomfortable. We were both quite for a moment, said some 'lovies' to Luce and went on to another conversation. We didn't want to wallow in that sad knowledge.

Today it's snowing again. There isn't a lot of snow, but it is sticking. Lucy only went a half block today before turning around to return home. Her pace was slow.

Golden Day

Saturday was a day of grace. Lucy was not particularly responsive in the morning and although she ate, she wasn't interested in going on a walk. I needed to pick up some Metronidazole for the diarrhea, so brought her along for the ride and perhaps some stimulation(?).

When we returned home, our van was parked in front with the side doors open. My husband was planning on going on a bike ride and had loaded his equipment inside. When Lucy saw the van, her ears perked up and she trotted over to the van and leapt inside! Joy! We decided we'd all go and while he rode, we'd walk.

She wanted no part of walking; she wanted to run! So he grabbed her leash and rode while she loped along side at her steady 7.5 mile clip. Her ears were up, her eyes bright and if dogs can grin, she was wearing a big one! She was so happy and of course, so were we. She went about 2 miles perky as could be.

I expected her to be a bit slowed down this morning, but she's been as chipper as ever. She was bouncy on the walk.

Her drugs du jour are...for her upset tummy:

• Sucralfate (1 gm) 3 X day
• Famotidine (20 mg) 2 X day

For the diarrhea:

• Metronidazole (250 mg) 2 X day

For the pneumonia:

• Baytril (68 mg) 1.5 X day
• Clavamox (375 mg) 2 X day

For the cancer:

• Prednisone (20 mg) 1 tablet 2 X day for 1 week, then 1/2 a tablet 2 X day

Her food is a combo of:

• 1 lb. organic burger
• 1/3 lb. organic liver
• 1 1/3 cup organic brown rice
• 4.5 TB canola oil
• 9 grams fish oil (or 9-1,000 mg capsules drained)

She's gobbling up the food which is stupendous. If she continues on eating (and living), the vet advises me to add 3.3 grams of calcium carbonate and 2.9 grams of dicalcium phosphate. She'll also give me some other recipes so I can vary the diet if Lucy starts getting finicky.

More Results

The blood test came back. Eighty percent of Lucy's blood cells (white and red) are abnormal. The vet said she's at stage 5 cancer. Five? I didn't even know there were that many levels. She said it could be leukemia or some other kind of lymphoma, but that in either case, chemo therapy would not be effective, so we're spared debating that course of action. Kate said she'd never seen blood levels like this...this abnormal, I think is what she meant. I didn't ask.

Lucy has horrible diarrhea. It's contained, meaning she has control over it, but it's basically thick water and rice. Is it the drugs? The cancer? The fact that her diet has changed to burger, liver and rice? All of them could be affecting her. I'm waiting for a call back from the vet to see what she recommends doing about it...if anything.

Desert & Devastation

We just returned from 2 1/2 weeks in the southern California mountains and deserts. What a wonderful break from the snows and rains of this area. In fact, our timing was so good, we missed the torrential rains that caused the flooding and avalanches.

The first portion of our trip was more urban. My husband had to work a few days and we wanted to visit our nephew before he deploys. Both occasions placed us in big California cities. Lucy was quite sick during this period—lots of vomiting and phone calls to the specialty vet back home. We took her off the doxycycline for her nose and that helped, but didn't completely solve the issue. A type of chew that I've given her for years also seemed to upset her stomach, so that was also removed and her energy and well-being improved.

When her health was assured, we got her back to running with us, and though it usually wasn't daily, she did manage every other day. We kept her distance within 7 miles. She loved it! Happy! Spunky! Raring to go! One of the downsides of the desert were burrs from cactus. Not a good mix on dog feet. We had to be very vigilant where we took her and to check her paws carefully during and after. The picture is taken at Mt. Shasta. In January, the trail was covered in dry oak leaves. Lovely!

Surprisingly, or maybe not considering we were in dry deserts, her nose seemed to clear up—even off the doxy. There was still the reverse sneezing and some hacking, but not the constant goobery schnoz.

We returned to cold, damp, foggy weather. Lucy's nose immediately reacted. Constant. And her health went rapidly down hill. From being energetic and running miles, suddenly she wasn't eating or wanting to go on walks. When I got home from work and she didn't even raise her head from her bed, I knew something was horribly wrong. Pneumonia again?

I took her to the vet two days ago and got the results yesterday. I won't hear about pneumonia or not until I get those results today, but yesterday was awful—she has lymphoma. The vet said doing nothing, she might live a couple of weeks to a month; with prednisone, I could double that; with chemo, perhaps a year. The vet gave her some antibiotics while there and that seemed to revive her. For the first time in days, she ate and wanted to go on a walk.

All the "cure" methods are limited; the cancer isn't going away. The chemo would involve weekly vet visits with 1/2 hour drips—and that would be for 6 months or more. Lucy is going on 12 and hates the vet. (Who could blame her? She's spent so much time there in the past 2 years!) We don't want to make her miserable by constant vet visits, even if it might prolong her stay with us. I'm willing to do the prednisone. The vet said it could put the cancer temporarily into remission, but prednisone has its own downside.

When my husband returns tonight, we'll talk about which options we want to pursue. It's awful playing the Final Arbitrator in someone else's life. Although we'd love Lucy to live years and years, we'd want those years to be healthy, happy years. If her time is now, we need to be able to graciously and lovingly allow her to comfortably enter it.

Hungover

Lucy is decidedly wiped out from Christmas. We were with in-laws Christmas day and Lucy was the recipient of many doggie presents which were all food. Being a good mom, I only gave her one, but there were lots of other people around and they were all treating her—she even got turkey! She's barely budged today and hasn't even sniffed her breakfast. It is so obvious she's hungover.

More Snow

The snow keeps coming. I've shoveled twice and am buying stock in Ibuprofen. We're dog-sitting Molly for five days. The dogs are in seventh heaven with this weather. Lucy is definitely showing old dog enthusiasm—spunkier, but not lively, while Molly is doing a drag course around the yard.

A little sad on a beautiful day

It's sunny and lovely today, but very cold. I'm a bit sad which seems odd when it is beautiful outside. Lucy's breathing is labored today and her hacking and gagging have become quite pronounced. I fear her larynx is becoming worse and creating problems.

I spoke with a neighbor yesterday whose daughter had to put her dog to sleep. The dog was fairly young, but had increasingly complex medical issues. In the end, her body just couldn't keep up with her mind. I applaud the woman for understanding her dog had lost its quality of life. That takes enormous courage. I hope I recognize that for Lucy when the time comes.

We're dog-sitting her cousin, Molly. Molly's 10 month-old energy seems to be enervating for Lucy instead of energizing. Molly demands attention and is as big as Lucy and perhaps heavier. Although she recognizes Lucy-as-Boss, she crashes into her, wriggles past her, is in her face. I want the dogs to work it out themselves, but at this point, unless I intervene, Lucy just goes off to her bed rather than compete with the puppy. I try and give Lucy lots of love and reassurance, but unless the puppy is sequestered, she is so present.

Second Snowfall

It's beautiful and quiet. I have a fire going in the stove and Christmas music playing. Perhaps a tray of cookies in the oven would be appropriate. Lucy, like all dogs, loves the snow. And like a small child with a runny nose, she has her perpetual stringers, now a bit frozen on her face. I have a stack of adult handkerchiefs that I keep by her leash for walks. In house, it's kleenex.

Here are two shots of her enjoying the weather. One is quite blurry, but I still like it. She's looking for a "R-A-T." In the other, she's licking off the offending drips.

Cold!

It is so cold here in the NW! The weathermen say we are in the longest cold snap we've had in nearly two decades. Day time temps are never above 30. Nights are in the teens. Lucy is in heaven. Snow on the ground and temps that make her ears crisp, her nose ice cold and her heart spunky. Everything is a treat for her when it's cold. And her nose is better. Is it the drugs or the temp?

After my sister-in-law suggested it, I bought a baby nose syringe to try when Lucy's nose is filled. As she put it, babies can't blow their nose either, so I thought I'd give it a try. The first one I bought was an ear syringe for adults (as they were out of the baby equivalent) and she hated that, so it is now in the back of the bathroom cupboard. Today I purchased from another store a baby nose syringe with a detachable tip for easy cleaning. How wonderful!! I don't doubt that Lucy will be equally dismayed by the prospect, but it might help with all the goobers.

New Drugs, New Cocktail Ball

Lucy had access to her cocktail ball last night. It is the first time I've allowed her to play with it since it was taken away. Not only was it taken away, it was thrown away and replaced with a new one. I decided to pitch it as I was concerned there could be bacteria on it that was re-infecting her. I'll never know the answer to that one, although her nose wasn't terribly runny afterwards.

She is also on a new antibiotic: Clavamox. Her nose was getting more and more goopy—both nostrils—and she was obviously suffering from some bacteria. The vet decided we should "pulse" (their word) antibiotics, so we've stopped the Doxycyline for this new one. It was made a huge difference both in the amount of nose goo and, within a day, the color.

Edited to add (many hours later): as of this afternoon's walk, the color is as bad as ever!

Abstinence

Lucy's nose has been active recently. Both nostrils are running now and the goo is yellow-green. Gross. I'm sorry. I never thought I'd be so attuned to this kind of thing and I feel for parents with children who are chronically ill. Your life becomes focused on little things that others would rather ignore. What concerns me is that Lucy is already on antibiotics, so does this mean that she has built up an immunity to doxycycline or that the bacteria is getting an upper hand (stronger, meaner) or something else is going on? The vet and I are becoming best friends.

So what does this have to do with abstinence? Her cocktail ball has been removed. This is her most favorite toy. In fact, it is the only toy she's had that she hasn't lost interest in. At cocktail hour, she starts hounding me to produce the famous orange ball. Unfortunately, it requires a lot of nose action from her: rolling, snorting, poking—and all of those things seem to aggravate an already delicate schnoz. In order to (hopefully) clear up her nose, I've taken her ball away. Last night was the first and she definitely was not happy about it. She waited patiently at first and then not so patiently. She wandered around looking for it, she talked to me about it, gave me the hopeful eye, then the pleading eye, then the evil eye. She will not see it tonight either.

It is difficult to explain abstinence to a dog.

Grateful

We're care-taking Suki for a couple of days while her owners are away. She has declined dramatically since the last time she was here. It takes a lot of manpower to wake her and get her going, and once up, she's only there for a short time before going back to bed. I've "carpeted" the kitchen in non-skid rugs, so when she gets up, she can get to the water bowl without slipping. Her coordination is quite sketchy as she suffers from awful arthritis and her toenails are so long.

She is still eating, but seems to have a difficult time working her tongue and spends more time moving her kibbles around rather than scooping them up. We are using a carpeted ramp her owners brought over for her to get up and down our back stairs (of which there are three). She is good going down the ramp, though she sometimes slips her way down. Coming up, however, is much more difficult. Surprisingly, although she is not a "morning" dog, she seems more coordinated at that time and is able to get up the ramp to come in. In the evening, she needs encouragement and a bit of guidance to maneuver up.

When she first arrived five days ago, I think she was quite confused. When she was awake, her time was spent staring at nothing. This morning, for the first time, she got up with us (5:30AM), went outside, ate breakfast and had her morning biscuit. That was wonderful and very active for her.

Lucy is doing well. Although both nostrils now suffer from rhinitis, she is enthused and involved. Over this past weekend, she ran a total of nearly 12 miles—five on Saturday, the rest on Sunday. She was eager afterward, and appeared neither exhausted nor experienced difficulty breathing. Granted, the weather was cool, but who cares? I am so happy she is such a willing participant.

I am grateful she is still with us, mentally and physically. It makes me even more solicitous towards Lucy and I tell her regularly how much I love her.

I also feel for Suki's owners as I know they will soon have to make an awful decision—the one we hate to make, but are grateful we can offer. With Suki, I've spent several evenings on the floor by her bed letting her know what a fine girl-dog she is and how much we've enjoyed our time with her.

What would we do without our wonderful dog companions? I can't imagine how anyone could treat a dog cruelly or chain them outside and ignore them. They give us so much and ask for so little in return. Our lives are enriched immeasurably by them.

Bad Factory Parts & Old Age

I guess I have to get used to the fact that Lucy's health issues are cyclical. She's once again had several days of reverse sneezing and a runny nose. The last two days she's thrown up her food. That's a new feature, one that I'm unsure is caused by her partially paralyzed larynx or the drugs she must take for rhinitis...or both. She remains eager for a walk, but not so eager to eat. I don't blame her; I wouldn't want to eat either if it meant food wasn't going to stay down.

We were at our in-laws home for Thanksgiving and Lucy piddled inside. This was done purposefully, not like the past where she was dribbling in her sleep. None-the-less, I was a tad embarrassed. Lucy also had a sneezing attack that was severe enough to give her a bloody nose. I think her problem lay with the commotion of Thanksgiving with the puppy, all the extra people, and the fact that she couldn't find that damn cat she could still smell. (The cat is one of their many past pets that has been squished on their street. We won't go there, but the cat met its demise about a month ago.)

This morning she didn't eat her breakfast, but waited until several hours later. We'll see if she keeps it down.

Spunky

Lucy felt spunky last night. In fact, she was downright annoying in her persistence. It was great to witness! She wanted her cocktail ball now. I didn't want to give in, but she persisted. Talking, woofing, pawing, groaning—generally making herself heard and catered to. Did I give in? Yes. Eventually. I waited until she was quiet and then armed her toy. Here she is telling me to get a move on!

Play with me!


Pay attention to ME!