We had spent the whole week last week trying to keep Lily alive!
Our sweet dog desperately needed to gain weight, as she has slipped from nearly 24 pounds two weeks ago to 15 pounds last week. The vet had made it clear that the weight loss had to stop, and so we spent the week trying to fatten her up by adding rice to her dog food and spoiling her with her favorite food on Earth;…sliced bread.The goal was to go in to the vets on Saturday and find that she was going to come through this.
I gave her a bath Friday night, trying to get the stink off of her from an unruly bladder, and help her to feel better. I then brushed her out...hand fed her a little bit of food before she refused more with a sly turn of the mouth every time I lifted my hand. ...and held and held her for about an hour before putting her to bed. She sat in my arms without a shiver or twist of any kind...contented till puppy angels took her to dream world, and as she drifted off to sleep, I could have sworn that she smiled.
Saturday morning I got her all wrapped and to the vets and she weighed in at about 12 and a half pounds...and felt so bad when I sat her down on the scale that she just dropped down on it...closed her eyes...and went motionless.
Then this prissy dog peed and just lay in it...unable or unwilling to try to move.
I scooped her up with her pee soaking into my clothes and rewrapped her in the towel I had brought her in, and we waited for the vet. As we waited, she got whiney and so I took her outside the vets office to lay on the grass in the sun.
Today was a Lily kind of day; cold in the 30s with crisp air and a light breeze;...and the sun beaming on my puppy.
She could no longer see;…the cataracts had taken her sight just a couple of weeks ago, but she lifted her nose a bit and turned her face into the light wind like a sea-craft turning into a gale, and her fur blew back and forth gently with the eddies.
I sat with her and shared the warmth of the sun and the bite of the cold, afraid of the worst and shivering not so much from the cold as from the fear of gonig back in and facing the doctor and whatever await us.
After a bit, I scooped her up, and we went back into the vets. In very short moments, we were ushered in to the back office and into the presence of the doctor , who took one look at Lily's face and got very serious.
I could tell that he could tell.
He did some blood work, and Lily came back with markers for complex diabetes. He talked to us about “key something-or- anothers”...and liver and kidney function… and shots for diabetes...and then he laid out the costs of hospital stays and interventions to try to get her back to the point where he’d even have a CHANCE of fully and fairly evaluating her.
Lily spent the whole time in my arms, her chin on my hand, trusting that her daddy would take care of her and that all would be well with the world tomorrow.
I then asked the vet "if this were your dog, what would you do?" He hesitated a bit, and said that if his wife were deciding, they'd try to save the dog, but that if he had to decide, he'd put his dog down and save her the intense trauma.
She is 12, and has lost half her body weight, and is so dehydrated that she is near delirious as she walked a bit here and there in the office.
He said he'd take his dog down if it were his dog, but it was certainly not his call to make, and who knew...maybe there was a longshot of a chance for a bit more time.
And of course, "not his call" translated to "my call."
Honestly, I wanted to throw all the money I had at her and tell this doctor that this dog has spent 12 years worshipping the ground I walk on, and followed me around the house step for step, always watching out for daddy. I wanted to tell him that my kids would be home for Christmas in a week, and needed to say goodbye to her first. I wanted to tell him that I love her, and that I just couldn't let her go.
But when I looked down at her; at how broken and sick she was, and how so very tired she was, I couldn’t say those things to him.
I told him I would want to hold her while he did it.
"Euthanasia, J D?"
"Yes please," not really believing that I could manage to say it out loud.
So I played God and signed the release form, and listened as they quickly went over the costs and explained the procedure.
A few minutes later, the doctor walked in with the overdose they use of medication that puts her to sleep temporarily most of the time, but that this time would transfer her to sleep for all time.
He asked if I had anything I wanted to say to her, or if I wanted time alone with her….and I held her a bit closer and cried a bit, and told her I love her.
Her head leaned onto my chest, and I believe she could feel my heart beating; and I know I could feel her little heart against my chest;...and then I nodded through some tears at the doctor, and the syringe went into the tube in her paw, and she twisted her head one more time to get comfortable...and then in seconds the breathing slowed and the heart slowed, and then there was neither.
Lily died in my arms.
They had a cardboard doggie casket, and I placed her in it with her towel, pulling the lid down over her; and carried her up and out of the back office to the lobby.
Other owners saw me walk out all weepy, and suddenly the room burst out in tears, nurses and patients and dogs whimpering...and as I got to the door three women urgently ran to get it for me, and helped me through as I could no longer see through my tears and sobs.
I drove Lily 20 miles north to my parents property, and buried her there under a crisp bright day where the sun could come out and shine on her always...surrounded by stripped bare trees and tall grass that she always enjoyed chewing on, but had browned for Christmas.
I took a single white birch branch and stuck it in the ground like a headstone, and stood over her for a bit.
Men aren’t supposed to cry like this, but all I could think about was that I had just buried a piece of myself I’d never get back. She had taken a piece of my heart with her.
I don't know...I guess I figure that God blesses the love between a dog and owner.
I miss her, but I know He blessed me with Lily.
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M. C. S.
daisyjane
Gabby Abby
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And dogs are wonderful angels. Prayers for you and your grief.
I am off to try to get some sleep now. I will respond to any and all tomorrow..with my sincere thanks for stopping by.
J D
You honored Lily's life and love for you by taking the tough and compassionate road. Just don't believe that men aren't supposed to cry like that...the strongest and most amazing men I'll ever know bawled like small children over the loss of a good dog.
Thanks for a beautifully written post, and my prayers for your loss.
Tears in my eyes and sadness in my heart for you JD, I'm so sorry. Love and comfort to you.
She was ready JD, but you knew that.
Rated for all-too-familiar sympathy.
by Wordsworth?
Dogs offer unconditional love,always.
I believe in life after death,and so I am sure your sweet Lily is watching you,trying to comfort you in your sorrow.
She has shared your life,has given you all the love she was capable of ,and she accepted your decision knowing that you would only do the best for her.
...doing it for her,leaving you with the ordeal of the hardest decision there is,to depart when the time has come.
God bless you and the sweet little soul,Lily.
Barb : Maybe it is more about en and uncontrollable sobs! I don't know...it was just so raw and intense.
I am starting to believe the right choice is always the hardest...
I am so sorry but she is running free now where it is always summer and the wind will forever being blowing lightly in her face.
R♥
No one else has said this, and it won't make the pain go away, but it might be helpful to get another puppy, as soon as you can.
I am so sorry for this lost.
and I can't comment any further dear..
Poor little Lily was no longer able to enjoy life, she was in pain and losing weight. You saved her from more pain. I am just so sorry for your pain and heartache.
JD, this was a breathtaking and heartfelt piece of writing. These precious moments are burned on my heart as I am sure they are on yours ...
Today was a Lily kind of day; cold in the 30s with crisp air and a light breeze;...and the sun beaming on my puppy.
She could no longer see;…the cataracts had taken her sight just a couple of weeks ago, but she lifted her nose a bit and turned her face into the light wind like a sea-craft turning into a gale, and her fur blew back and forth gently with the eddies. I sat with her and shared the warmth of the sun and the bite of the cold...
RIP, beautiful Lily.
L'Heure : Thank you so darned much. I hope all is well for you and that you and that special friend have a GREAT Christmas together.
LM : After what you have gone through...to be here trying to help me is just stunning! God bless you so very much!!!
Heidi : You are right about that. I believe she gave me everything she had.
Miguela : I am so sorry for your loss as well.
LL : You too should be the comforted..not the coforting! God bless you for reaching out to me when in so much pain of your own!!!
Erika : Losing that much weight is just too much to overcome!
Fusuna : "Helplessness" is a key feeling...you hit tha tright on the nose!
I have read many of these on Open Salon, and I always cry. This is no exception. It's one of the hardest things we have to do. It probably doesn't help to tell you that you did the right thing, the kind thing, for Lily. I know how much it hurts, and I only hope that your grief has started to be less of a constant. I really am so sorry.
I have now used 4 kleenex's after reading this piece because I know the pain.
You are a good doggy Daddy and I hope you find a new pup to love and heal your hurting heart.