The week before Christmas, Nee's legs started to weaken drastically. She could still walk without effort, she didn't groan as she layed down or got up; it just seemed her legs were too weak for climbing -- even down a sidewalk curb. I started looking around for "wheels" for her; I remembered a friend who used a towel sling to keep her elderly dog standing and started looking for some soft, strong material to fashion such a sling. On Christmas Eve - a Thursday - we went for our early evening walk. When we returned home, Nee couldn't get up the porch steps. I tried coaxing her but for all her effort, she just couldn't do it. I picked her up as best I could, and we more or less fell up the steps together. I cursed the muscle failure in my back and arms that prevented me from being able to just pick her up and carry her and hold her. She ate her supper, but without her usual enthusiasm. I knew Dr. Judy was out of town for Christmas holidays but I had the number of the emergency vet clinic on hand should I need it. A few hours later, Nee vomited then headed frantically to the door. We just made it to the yard when her bowels let loose. Got her in the house, cleaned her up, then called our friend Marg to take us to the emergency clinic. This was Christmas Eve, remember. Marg with her house full of family and friends - many of whom she hadn't seen since last Christmas - didn't hesitate, bless her heart. It was just passing 10 p.m. when the on-call vet got to the clinic, drew blood, did a thorough external exam. Of course, it would take a few days for the results to come in. He gave me some antibiotics -- liquid, thankfully -- thought it might be a bacterial infection. The urine sample I had the foresight to get while waiting for Marg showed no sign of a uti or bladder infection. We would just have to wait. Christmas Day she was throwing up sporadically and eating sparingly with frequent desperate trips to the backyard. I had to walk behind her holding onto her rear legs, which by this time were not stable at all; lifting her up the steps was stressful and strenuous for both of us -- Nee helped as much as she could. I prayed that Dr. Judy would be back soon. By Sunday, I got her call -- she came over that night. More blood drawn, sub-cu fluids to re-hydrate her...nothing more to do until the test results came in. She left with instructions to call her tomorrow if there was no improvement.
Next day, Nee had perked up a bit and my hope rose too. Her legs were still weak, but she wanted to go for a walk. We hadn't walked anywhere since Christmas Eve except to the back yard, so I thought we'd just go to the end of our short block. I didn't like how her legs were trembling and I knew it was an effort for her to keep going, so I tried to turn us homeward. She wasn't having any of that! She set her face and pulled. I tried to cut our walk short at the next block but she wanted to keep going. I couldn't pull her, 'cause I was afraid she'd fall. Halfway around our circular walk, she just sank to a mound of snow...couldn't get up. I tried to lift her, but couldn't. Christmas Day--nobody around outside. What to do, what to do? I sat down, arms around her, and we just rested for a while. When I saw her attempt to rise, I helped her up and together we managed to get walking again. Almost home now, I could see she having such a hard time putting one leg in front of the other. I asked her if she wanted to rest again and sat down, but she just stood, determined to make it home. We made it home. That was the last walk we would take together.
We still went out to the yard so Nee could do her thing. She couldn't walk unaided but as long as I held onto her sides, she managed well. One night, I went in for my bath; Nee had always liked to come and lay alongside the tub while I bathed, but hadn't been doing that lately, of course. I was just laying in the tub, relaxing, praying that she would get well. I heard a movement, looked up and there she was -- right beside me! She half-sat there while I got out of the tub and I helped her back to her mattress. Next night, in the middle of my bath, I heard a noise in the kitchen, jumped out of the tub and ran to the kitchen. There was Neea-Kha, sitting on her back end, front legs splayed out in front of her with a half-grin on her face. She had been on her way to the bathroom and couldn't make it all the way. I helped her back to the mattress and told her it was okay, she didn't have to come with me. It was only weeks later while reliving our last times together that I realized I could have dragged her bed into the bathroom with me...I could have kicked myself for not thinking of it then.
Mid-week after Christmas, Nee just stopped eating altogether -- now when she drank water, it came right back up. I needed her to eat so she could take her Metacam and antibiotics -- not that the antibiotics seemed to be helping anything. I hadn't left the apartment since Nee got sick, I just couldn't bear the thought of being away from her for a moment. Chris, my delivery lady - with whom I had become friends over time and who just adored Neea-Kha, called frequently to see how she was doing. On the Wednesday, I asked Chris to pick up some hamburger for me - I hoped that would entice Nee to eat. Well, I cooked that meat up and set a dish out for her and did she gobble that meal up! Her tail wagged the whole time and her eyes just lit right up! It was the last meal she'd eat. That meal stayed down but from that point on, nothing stayed in her tummy. I would syringe her liquid meds into her mouth and she'd vomit it all up.
Dr. Judy took a urine sample for a culture...it would be days before the results came back. Well, there was no urine, just fluid...she was in kidney failure. I asked if it was reversible and she said if it had been caught in time, it could be. However, that would also require Nee being in the hospital with IV drip and feeding tube. That was not an option; no way was my little girl going to pass from this earth without me by her side. She would have hated that and I'm sure it would have stripped away her dignity and broken her spirit.
One night, as I gave her the Metacam, she wouldn't swallow it -- just opened her mouth and let it dribble out. She looked right into my eyes and I knew she was telling me -- no more of this stuff. I stopped praying for a miracle that night -- I knew it was time to let her go...in her time, in her way. It was ultimately in God's time, in His way. I had always prayed that when her time came, she would go naturally -- without me having to make the decision to have her euthanized. I kept praying for that. I prayed that she wasn't in pain, Dr. Judy assured me she wasn't; her systems were just shutting down. She didn't feel hungry or thirsty and wasn't in pain.
Dr. Judy and I had a long, frank discussion about end-of-life care. She had never been in this position and was a bit scared (as she told me later). We set parameters for Neea-Kha's care. If at any point she was in pain and unable to have her pain eased, we would need to re-assess our commitment. Neither or us could allow her to suffer. Everyone that dropped by to see her remarked on her spirit and how comfortable she appeared -- calm and quiet, her spirit shone through the light that was still in her eyes. Towards the end of that week - coming up to New Years Day, she became bowel incontinent. I had several packages of absorbent sheet protectors delivered and used most of them up within the week. She'd always been so dignified and dainty about her bodily functions and I knew this was an affront to her dignity. I assured her it was okay, no big deal ... just do what you have to do; I just have to take the pad away, get a fresh one, wash you up a bit and presto...good as new. I wanted her to retain her dignity at all times. She did.
We also got the lab results -- from the initial testing at the emergency clinic. Nee had a rampant e-coli infection that was destroying her organs. Again, the slim possibility of recovery -- in hospital with fluids, antibiotics, feeding tube. I prayed so hard to make the right decision. I couldn't imagine her lying alone - ill - without me. I'm sure she would have just given up, lost her spirit and passed on -- without me there. I couldn't let that happen. At almost 15 years old, chances of her surviving were slim; if she recuperated, would she be able to walk - would residual damage to her internal organs cause major ongoing problems? I found peace in my spirit as I prayed, knowing it was the right time to let her go - peacefully, comfortably, at home - with me.
Next day, Nee had perked up a bit and my hope rose too. Her legs were still weak, but she wanted to go for a walk. We hadn't walked anywhere since Christmas Eve except to the back yard, so I thought we'd just go to the end of our short block. I didn't like how her legs were trembling and I knew it was an effort for her to keep going, so I tried to turn us homeward. She wasn't having any of that! She set her face and pulled. I tried to cut our walk short at the next block but she wanted to keep going. I couldn't pull her, 'cause I was afraid she'd fall. Halfway around our circular walk, she just sank to a mound of snow...couldn't get up. I tried to lift her, but couldn't. Christmas Day--nobody around outside. What to do, what to do? I sat down, arms around her, and we just rested for a while. When I saw her attempt to rise, I helped her up and together we managed to get walking again. Almost home now, I could see she having such a hard time putting one leg in front of the other. I asked her if she wanted to rest again and sat down, but she just stood, determined to make it home. We made it home. That was the last walk we would take together.
We still went out to the yard so Nee could do her thing. She couldn't walk unaided but as long as I held onto her sides, she managed well. One night, I went in for my bath; Nee had always liked to come and lay alongside the tub while I bathed, but hadn't been doing that lately, of course. I was just laying in the tub, relaxing, praying that she would get well. I heard a movement, looked up and there she was -- right beside me! She half-sat there while I got out of the tub and I helped her back to her mattress. Next night, in the middle of my bath, I heard a noise in the kitchen, jumped out of the tub and ran to the kitchen. There was Neea-Kha, sitting on her back end, front legs splayed out in front of her with a half-grin on her face. She had been on her way to the bathroom and couldn't make it all the way. I helped her back to the mattress and told her it was okay, she didn't have to come with me. It was only weeks later while reliving our last times together that I realized I could have dragged her bed into the bathroom with me...I could have kicked myself for not thinking of it then.
Mid-week after Christmas, Nee just stopped eating altogether -- now when she drank water, it came right back up. I needed her to eat so she could take her Metacam and antibiotics -- not that the antibiotics seemed to be helping anything. I hadn't left the apartment since Nee got sick, I just couldn't bear the thought of being away from her for a moment. Chris, my delivery lady - with whom I had become friends over time and who just adored Neea-Kha, called frequently to see how she was doing. On the Wednesday, I asked Chris to pick up some hamburger for me - I hoped that would entice Nee to eat. Well, I cooked that meat up and set a dish out for her and did she gobble that meal up! Her tail wagged the whole time and her eyes just lit right up! It was the last meal she'd eat. That meal stayed down but from that point on, nothing stayed in her tummy. I would syringe her liquid meds into her mouth and she'd vomit it all up.
Dr. Judy took a urine sample for a culture...it would be days before the results came back. Well, there was no urine, just fluid...she was in kidney failure. I asked if it was reversible and she said if it had been caught in time, it could be. However, that would also require Nee being in the hospital with IV drip and feeding tube. That was not an option; no way was my little girl going to pass from this earth without me by her side. She would have hated that and I'm sure it would have stripped away her dignity and broken her spirit.
One night, as I gave her the Metacam, she wouldn't swallow it -- just opened her mouth and let it dribble out. She looked right into my eyes and I knew she was telling me -- no more of this stuff. I stopped praying for a miracle that night -- I knew it was time to let her go...in her time, in her way. It was ultimately in God's time, in His way. I had always prayed that when her time came, she would go naturally -- without me having to make the decision to have her euthanized. I kept praying for that. I prayed that she wasn't in pain, Dr. Judy assured me she wasn't; her systems were just shutting down. She didn't feel hungry or thirsty and wasn't in pain.
Dr. Judy and I had a long, frank discussion about end-of-life care. She had never been in this position and was a bit scared (as she told me later). We set parameters for Neea-Kha's care. If at any point she was in pain and unable to have her pain eased, we would need to re-assess our commitment. Neither or us could allow her to suffer. Everyone that dropped by to see her remarked on her spirit and how comfortable she appeared -- calm and quiet, her spirit shone through the light that was still in her eyes. Towards the end of that week - coming up to New Years Day, she became bowel incontinent. I had several packages of absorbent sheet protectors delivered and used most of them up within the week. She'd always been so dignified and dainty about her bodily functions and I knew this was an affront to her dignity. I assured her it was okay, no big deal ... just do what you have to do; I just have to take the pad away, get a fresh one, wash you up a bit and presto...good as new. I wanted her to retain her dignity at all times. She did.
We also got the lab results -- from the initial testing at the emergency clinic. Nee had a rampant e-coli infection that was destroying her organs. Again, the slim possibility of recovery -- in hospital with fluids, antibiotics, feeding tube. I prayed so hard to make the right decision. I couldn't imagine her lying alone - ill - without me. I'm sure she would have just given up, lost her spirit and passed on -- without me there. I couldn't let that happen. At almost 15 years old, chances of her surviving were slim; if she recuperated, would she be able to walk - would residual damage to her internal organs cause major ongoing problems? I found peace in my spirit as I prayed, knowing it was the right time to let her go - peacefully, comfortably, at home - with me.