Goodbye, old dog

[sauergeek]

Elsa, you had maladies that were slowly costing you your fur and that had made your back legs weak and hard to control. Two weeks ago you stopped smiling -- and the anti-inflammatories you went on did nothing to bring back your smile. You'd stopped eating last week, but I found a way to bribe you to eat. I took you to the vet then, and they found two possible tumors on X-ray -- a large one in your abdomen, and a smaller one in your lung. They sent you back home, and said your condition probably wouldn't change markedly over the Thanksgiving weekend. I started thinking about how aggressively to treat the tumors.

However, over the weekend, you chewed yourself raw on one toe, you stopped eating again, even the bribes, and you were no longer able to stand up.

Today, I took you to the vet with no appointment. Getting you in the car was difficult; I had no idea how heavy 75+ pounds of immobile dog really was. The vet staff took you from the car into the examination room on a stretcher. After checking you out, the vet suggested that likely what had happened is that the large tumor had burst and started bleeding. He also agreed that the one in your lung was likely cancerous, even if the larger abdominal one was not.

You'd been going downhill for six months or more. You'd gotten especially bad in the last month -- the loss of your smile told me what I needed to know. When the vet suggested euthenasia, I agreed. Even with treatment (likely surgery) for the tumors, I doubt you would have regained your smile. I stayed for the entire procedure and gave you head skritches the whole time. I saw you stop breathing, and the vet listened until your heart stopped.


RIP Elsa
1995(?) - 27 November 2006

I hope that wherever you are, there are lots of people to visit, lots of dogs to play with, lots of critters to chase, and lots of yummy things to eat.

Comments

[smillaraaq.livejournal.com]

Goodbye sweet old girl. Ask Jake to show you around, I'm sure he's already scoped out all the suckers who are good for a bellyrub or a snack...

_{I sat for a time next to her, crying for her and mostly in self-pity because I would have to live without her now, and then I took her back to the place in the kennel where she loved to stand, the place where we harnessed, and I buried her there with her collar still on and the little metal tag that had the number 32, her number (and mine) in the Iditarod, and after a long time I went back to the house and sipped tea and thought of her when she was young and there was nothing in front of us but the iceblink on the horizon, and I hoped wherever dogs go she would find a lot of good meat and fat and now and then a run. -- Gary Paulsen}