I’ve been through this before. That doesn’t make it any easier. A week ago we found out that our dog, Kozmo,
is dying. This was a huge shock because
until the previous night he had seemed fine.
Even though he is 13, maybe 14 years old, Kozmo has been a very active
dog. He has had more than half his teeth
pulled but other than that he has been quite healthy. Kozmo is a go-do-it sort of dog, always ready
for a walk, a ride in the car, a stroll out to get the mail or paper, or a
treat.
We knew something was wrong when we sat down to eat our
salmon dinner and he was nowhere to be seen.
He is always there for that. We
called him and he slowly walked in but had no interest in the salmon skin that
Bob offered him. He did eat a small piece of
salmon that I gave him. Kozmo was
lethargic the next morning so Bob took him to the vet.
Kozmo spent the day at the clinic while they ran tests. Bob called me on my cell with the
report. The news was not good. Kozmo has a large tumor on his liver. The vet was offering biopsy, blood
transfusion, prednisone, and even euthanasia.
I couldn’t hold back the tears.
Bob and I discussed options but I had questions. We decided to pick up our dog at the end of
the day and asked to speak to the vet.
The vet did an ultrasound so we could see the massive tumor—it
is all through his liver and pushing on his lungs and intestines. There is nothing the vet can do. It appears that the tumor is bleeding which
would explain his sudden downhill turn.
A blood transfusion would give him maybe an extra week. Sometimes prednisone helps. The vet suggested euthanasia. I told him I just needed to take him home and
love him for now. The vet said they’d
come to our home to euthanize him if needed—he left the catheter in. Kozmo got a shot of steroids and we came home
with 2 weeks of prednisone, which the vet didn’t think we’d need. We rode home with my sweet boy on my lap.
It was hard to give my girls the sad news—this is their dog,
too. Like me, they cried. And they live far away and will not be able
to see him.
Kozmo was not terribly interested in his dry food but ate a
little when we took it out of his bowl and handed it to him. However, when Bob went into the kitchen, he
ran right in along with our other dog.
Bob in the kitchen has always been a cause for excitement in our house—our
dogs know something will be tossed their way.
I marveled at how normal Kozmo seemed at that moment, waiting for his
treat and jumping to catch it.
I bought some canned food with meat chunks and gravy. Kozmo gobbled it down. He also drank a lot of water. Prednisone increases thirst and
appetite. In between bursts of activity,
he lies on his side quietly. Since the
vet indicated that he might not even make it through the first night, I have a
tendency to check if he is still breathing.
A few nights ago, I barbequed chicken.
As Bob and I sat down for dinner on the patio, Kozmo and Piper were both
there waiting for a taste of chicken.
The dog that was so still earlier was alert and waiting excitedly. He even jumped when Bob tossed him the
chicken. Later, he was conked out on the
floor. What a roller coaster ride this
is. I have savored the moments of normalcy
and even photographed them.
Kozmo has become noticeably weaker in the last two
days. This morning he was reluctant to
get out of his bed. However, when Bob
grabbed the other dog’s leash, Kozmo got up and followed him. It was obvious that he wouldn’t be going out
to get the paper with Bob, something he’s been doing every morning. He wasn’t interested in eating
breakfast. However, when he heard Piper
out in the other room, barking in excitement about going for a walk, I had to
stop him from heading out there too. It
broke my heart—he was so sad.
Later, when Kozmo heard me say I was going out (a magic
word), he stood up and looked at me. I
brought him out in the front yard with me while I weeded and trimmed. When Bob came out he followed him around a
bit before lying down. When I went back
inside for lunch, Kozmo was spread out on the carpet. When I pulled out the lunchmeat, both dogs
immediately showed up. I looked down at
Kozmo’s big brown eyes and I had to give him some of my lunch. Right now I would give him anything. Later, when he is once again lying on his
side, I will go over and pet him, telling him he’s a good boy. Once again tears will stream down my face.
The vet called to check on Kozmo and told me to call if I
needed his help. Thanks, I said. But hopefully I won’t need to call him. Kozmo does not seem to be in pain. He is trying to be normal and is puzzled and
sad that he can’t do his favorite things.
Death is a part of life—it is painful.
We will give our love to Kozmo until he is gone. It is difficult to watch a family member fade
away—human or animal. Pets become an
integral part of our lives. While I try
to prepare myself for Kozmo’s departure from our lives, I’m struggling. I am torn by conflicting feelings—I don’t
want to lose him, but watching and waiting for him to die is so hard that I
just want it to be over. I don’t think
we have much longer to wait.
8/6/2013
No comments:
Post a Comment