If you're going through hell, keep going. Winston Churchill, Part 1
That quote has been ingrained upon me for the past two weeks. It's been an awful time.
If you follow me on Facebook, (and you should) I announced there that after much struggle we had to put poor Maggie to sleep. Maggie was the white labrador who adopted us three years ago when someone dumped her on our property.
She and Nana (the border collie) had an altercation. Maggie got bit but not nearly as badly as me when I intervened. Nana only got loose skin on Maggie. With me, she struck bone (but more on that later).
At first, we thought everything was going to be all right. Maggie was panting but that had been normal for her for over a month. If you recall reading about it on this blog, the vet had diagnosed her with Horner's syndrome and said she should recover in about 3 months.
We got her breathing normalized and she ate and seemed happy for the next three days. That's when things went downhill. Once again she went into labored breathing.
We got her to a vet (a different vet) and she felt there was more going on than Horner's syndrome. She felt Maggie's heart had been damaged and probably enlarged for a long time. It's possible (though she didn't say it in so many words) that the other vet might've missed the larger picture.
This buried me in guilt because I had suspected the same thing. Since the first vet told me to be patient because Maggie's recuperation would be slow, I was afraid to come across as reactionary when I didn't see what I felt should be more progress.
The second vet (now our permanent vet) felt that at Maggie's advanced age, any intervention (the next step was sedation for X-rays) could possibly kill her. She felt at best Maggie had only a few days. We didn't want her to suffer any more than she had to so we did the only kindness we could and put her to sleep.
I'm angry and I'm sad. All I ever wanted was the best for my dogs. They trust me to make the right decisions and I in turn have to trust the vet when my limited expertise runs out. It didn't help that Nana stressed Maggie out too, so I'm not letting her off the hook either.
If nothing else, I'm glad I took the brunt of Nana's attack. When she bit me, it was enough time for Greg to arrive and separate her teeth from my hand.
The fight was over before it began. It took longer to tell you this story than the actual incident. Little did I know, it was just the beginning of my suffering.
We buried Maggie next to our other guys. She might've come to us a stray, but she left this world as family.
More tomorrow.
If you follow me on Facebook, (and you should) I announced there that after much struggle we had to put poor Maggie to sleep. Maggie was the white labrador who adopted us three years ago when someone dumped her on our property.
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| Nana and Maggie as friends |
At first, we thought everything was going to be all right. Maggie was panting but that had been normal for her for over a month. If you recall reading about it on this blog, the vet had diagnosed her with Horner's syndrome and said she should recover in about 3 months.
We got her breathing normalized and she ate and seemed happy for the next three days. That's when things went downhill. Once again she went into labored breathing.
We got her to a vet (a different vet) and she felt there was more going on than Horner's syndrome. She felt Maggie's heart had been damaged and probably enlarged for a long time. It's possible (though she didn't say it in so many words) that the other vet might've missed the larger picture.
This buried me in guilt because I had suspected the same thing. Since the first vet told me to be patient because Maggie's recuperation would be slow, I was afraid to come across as reactionary when I didn't see what I felt should be more progress.
The second vet (now our permanent vet) felt that at Maggie's advanced age, any intervention (the next step was sedation for X-rays) could possibly kill her. She felt at best Maggie had only a few days. We didn't want her to suffer any more than she had to so we did the only kindness we could and put her to sleep.
I'm angry and I'm sad. All I ever wanted was the best for my dogs. They trust me to make the right decisions and I in turn have to trust the vet when my limited expertise runs out. It didn't help that Nana stressed Maggie out too, so I'm not letting her off the hook either.
If nothing else, I'm glad I took the brunt of Nana's attack. When she bit me, it was enough time for Greg to arrive and separate her teeth from my hand.
The fight was over before it began. It took longer to tell you this story than the actual incident. Little did I know, it was just the beginning of my suffering.
We buried Maggie next to our other guys. She might've come to us a stray, but she left this world as family.
More tomorrow.
Comments
The vet insisted she was on her way out long before this happened. In my heart I wish all my babies will go gently in their sleep.
She was so well behaved. We think she was someone's hunting dog. Maybe she got too old to hunt so they left her. Her back end was very arthritic.
hugs for all of you.
I am glad she stayed with us and not the pound. An elderly dog like her would never have gotten adopted. We gave her three more years, and lots of home-cooked food. :)
betty
Hang in there!
It's rough. And it's really hard when you thought you were doing something that was solving the problem, but it turns out there was little to nothing you could have done in the first place (like Ginger, and finding out she had cancer).
Just keep being a good pet momma. Animals are so smart, and nearly every time we've had to make the CHOICE to say goodbye to one (with the exception of one that was a special case), I could see in their eyes that they were so tired, and that they were trying to keep fighting but just couldn't.
They know how much you've tried to help them. I promise.
Hope your finger heals and whatever you are going to share next post does not have anything to do with the remaining two "kids", not sure if you could stand that so close to the last two leaving.
Hugs and prayers to all of you at Casa Zannini.
These are times when I prefer the Eastern philosophy to medicine. They look at the whole and not just the obvious symptoms.
My finger is another story, but that's tomorrow.
The first time she saw a dog bed, she claimed it and slept like the dead. She loved going from bed to bed.
(((hugs)))
I hope you're healing. And stop beating yourself up over the diagnosis. We can't know everything, even though we try. You did the right thing.