I wake up at 5:20 when Pirate the little pug grand dog starts whining. "Is it time to get up yet?" he seems to say. He looks at me in a way that only a one eyed pug named "Pirate" can do. Hanzo, the other grand dog, a Boston Terrier is over by Bruce's side of the bed waiting for Bruce to rub his belly. Bruce reaches down and gives him a few belly pets and Hanzo goes back to bed. Pirate goes reluctantly back to his bed, but not without a whimper of protest, much like a little kid. He will stay there for ten minutes and then try again to get me up.
I hold my breath and wait to hear if our dog Jack is going to get up. His bed is on the floor on my side of the bed. Finally I hear his usually shake and he is standing by the bedroom door, tail wagging. I smile, knowing that he will be with us for one more day at least. I get up and see his usual tail wag greeting as I head into the bathroom.
12 years ago today, we got Jack from the Humane Society and brought him home. Here's what he looked like - so eager and happy to be part of our family it seemed. I already wrote about this elsewhere I think, so I won't go into detail.
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| Yeah he wasn't supposed to be on the bed but sometimes Kseniya let him on hers. What a pretty boy |
This isn't meant to be the sad, "my dog is dying" essay but the truth is, Jack's days are numbered. About three months ago he seemed to be grunting a bit, reluctant to eat, and just not as active. A visit to the vet revealed he was anemic (Hematarcrit 0f 33) , had a fever, and probably was having hip spasms. Antibiotics, some Deramaxx (sort of a doggy Ibuprofen type drug) really seemed to help and he started acting more like his old self. He still could not run as far as he used to and still seemed to groan a lot but not as much as before. I told him every time we went running on our 2 mile route (he was doing 4 miles about 3 -4 times a week prior to this) "I won't forget about you, Jack. We will keep running even if you can't go as far". He looked up at me as if he understood and trotted on - happy to be out there - not realizing he wasn't going as far. In his prime, he has gone as far as 12 miles with me and my running friends and then still had energy to play fetch with Bruce when he got home.
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| Catching up on some reading...note the title of the book Dogs don't bite when a growl will do. |
Then just a few weeks ago, he really seemed "out of it" one afternoon. Another Vet trip revealed his red cell count was down to 19 - much lower than this and he would need a transfusion to survive. The vet suggested an ultrasound because it looked like his body was making red cells but he was losing them somewhere.
I got the call that the ultrasound was scheduled and part of me didn't want to know - even though I did know, something was lurking inside his abdomen. Sure enough, he had a large diffuse tumor that had taken over much of his liver - like some alien, feeding on his red cells. The vet said it was probably a hepatocellular carcinoma or adenoma (sounds like some sort of cell phone for the liver) They sedated him for the procedure, but he still looked up at me with those big brown eyes (and said, "you ain't seen nothing yet...b b b b baby you just ain't seen nothing yet) and I said "don't worry Jack, we aren't going to put you to sleep". Sorry about the song quote but that just popped into my head - something that happens to me frequently and without warning. And, I really don't want this to be a sad "my dog is dying" post.
So now it is hospice care for Jack the dog, my running buddy of 12 years and Bruce's walking buddy. I always wanted to be a hospice nurse but I didn't think my first patient would be my dog. Pain meds keep him comfortable but each day he gets weaker and wants to eat less. I have taken him to the park to walk around a few times but not in the last few days. I think he is taking advantage of his condition though and is only eating the "people food" we give him - chicken, rice, and soup. He looks at me with those eyes and says "Come on, what's a little pancake going to hurt? Can't be any worse for me than a tumor on my liver. Besides I have tolerated that nasty dry crap for 12 years. I want chicken and pizza and oh yeah, grapes and onions. they aren't going to hurt me". He still tries to please us and barks when we come home from somewhere and then realizes he should not use up all that energy and goes to lay down. I think his running days are over - but we will all have to hang up our running shoes someday.
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| Jack in his running prime |
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| Going for a run about two years ago |
We have gone through some of the stages of grief. Amazingly I did not blame this on myself - the vet said we would have had to do liver function tests routinely to have picked this up...but it usually is found when the dog starts showing symptoms like Jacks. Sometimes the tumor is localized and can be removed but not in his case. And he is 12 1/2 years old. I did go through denial though...maybe it isn't a tumor and maybe with good care it will shrink on it's own and maybe there will be a miracle for him. Maybe my mom or siggie or my dad can pull some strings in heaven? But he is 12 and we would have to say goodbye sometime and isn't it good that we have the time to enjoy each day we are given?
I think of how lucky we are to be able to help our animal friends. We don't have to let them suffer every test known to man or to be poked and prodded and kept alive even though the quality of life is no longer there. We can just love them, be with them and make their last days the best they can be. Still it is hard and it is a roller coaster of emotions watching him have good days and then other times going to bed at night and wondering if he would still be here in the morning.
I am sure it is harder for us than for Jack. He is comfortable and getting much more attention, belly rubs on his shaved lumpy belly, and more offers of food he didn't get to eat before. The grand dogs and Desmond the grandson, spend time sitting next to him. He knows he is loved. Des reads him stories and pets him constantly. Pirate sits right next to him and licks his face for encouragement from time to time.
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| Desmond reading to Jack |
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| I guess the story put both of them to sleep |
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| Pirate keeping Jack company |
Bruce and I have shed many tears and sometimes are not sure we want to go through this again with another dog. Someone told me though that the best way to honor your dog is to give another homeless dog a home and the love you gave your previous dog. You can never replace the dog, but you can replace the love. And there are so many dogs out there that need us. I need another running buddy. I already miss Jack on my runs and his eagerness to go no matter if it was 6 degrees and snowing or a bright summer day. But I will love the memories more than the sadness of his leaving.
I do anthropomorphize a bit but I really think Jack isn't sad about this. Dogs know their time is limited and they enjoy every moment. They just seem to take things in stride and move on. They seem to know life is short and unlike humans, know how to make the most of every day. He probably notices he has some limitations, but he just adjusts - I bet there is no feeling sorry for himself or wondering, "why me". It's this attitude, real or imagined on my part, that makes me believe dogs are better than humans.
So we will enjoy each day we have left with Jack. He hasn't given up on his life yet and neither will we. I am sure he will let us know when it is time to let him go.
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