Friday morning at about 10:00am our vet called us. It turned out that weird empty space was just an oddly large fat deposit. She evidently had a small liver and spleen which weren’t causing any significant problems, but they were oddly small for her size. Hence the fatty area. But that is where the good news stopped. Instead, we were informed that she had:
- A small heart that was struggling to supply her 90lbs body with enough blood. Her heart was weak. Very weak.
- Thickening of her small intestine and colon indicated advance stage lymphoma. But, regardless of the suspicion of lymphoma, the fact was that the walls were so thick that her intestines had stopped working. As in, she could no longer process food. Anything she ate would have to come out via vomiting. Hence, the recent increase in vomit episodes and the lack of eating.
- Internal bleeding.
We were and still are in a state of complete shock. She appeared completely fine just a few days earlier. We had no idea just how sick she was and clearly had been for a while.
I still cannot help but think that she was only 7 years and 4 months old (to be precise) – she’s way too young to be this sick. She was a rescue dog, and we had always assumed she’d live a long life due to her mixed breed status. I feel like she was cheated out of the life she deserved. I feel like our while family was cheated out of thr life she deserved.
We had a very honest discussion without vet on our options.
- Option 1: If our dog definitely had lymphoma we could try 18 weeks of chemo. We would have to do more extensive testing and more invasive procedures to determine the exact nature of the suspected lymphoma. However, her and the second opinion vet both agreed that it would not be curable. Treatment would simply give her more time, assuming her heart could handle treatment and assuming they could get her digestive tract to start working again. Honestly, we knew this wasn’t an option – we knew we wouldn’t put her through chemo, especially if it’s not a curable cancer.
- Option 2: IV Fluids, prednisone and appetite stimulant. Hopefully this would kick-start her digestive tract again and she may live a few more weeks.
- Option 3: IV Fluids and prednisone for a few days. The intent of this would be to give us time to say goodbye, hopefully through the long weekend. Given all her ailments and the state of her intestines, she really only had a matter of days left.
Our vet did not pressure us, and respected our very first comment that we would not let our dog suffer just for our sake. We simply couldn’t do that to her, even if it meant we were saying goodbye 5+ years earlier then we ever thought we would. Much to our surprise, I was the one that was adamant that we couldn’t prolong her suffering even just to buy us a few more days with her.
And so, we chose to let her go Friday to end her suffering immediately. When we told our vet our decision, she put it perfectly:
Our dogs give us all their love, unconditionally. And when they are this sick, we have to give all our love back to them.
She was right, this decision was made solely in our love for our dog and for her wellbeing.
The clinic booked the appointment for the end of the day, so our vet would be available and so that we could have the rest of the day together. Mr. MPB and I took the entire day off (not that either one of us could possibly have worked even if we wanted to). We spent the day together, just the three of us, just like old times before Little MPB. We went to the park, where she barely walked. We offered her all of her favourite foods, to which she declined everything. We sat with her, we cuddled with her, we cried for her. We apologized for not being able to help her. We tried to tell her just how much we love her.
We left early for the appointment so that we could pick up Little MPB from daycare to give him one last play at the park with his Puu-py. Of course, he didn’t understand and he chose to play on the playground instead. We then dropped him off with friends for a visit while Mr. MPB and I took our sweet girl to the vet one last time.
We sat with her, our vet sat with all of us, and we stayed with her until she took her last breath. And then we stayed a little longer, sobbing over what had just transpired.
Our son’s precious Puu-py, his best friend, and mine too, is now in puppy heaven.
For the last few days, our little boy has walked around the house shouting Puu-py as he searches for his best friend. And he decided the night she died was the perfect time to say her real name for the first time.
We are completely and utterly devastated. Saying goodbye to her might just be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
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Here’s the quick update/summary of what’s going on:
- The x-rays show that her intestines are squished into half the space they should be in. There is a massive void in the other half of where they should extend through. There is a small chance this void is the result of a naturally occurring small liver and the void is simply a large fatty deposit. There is a very significant chance that this void is a very large tumor.
- She has arthritis throughout her body, including down her sternum and spine.
- She has hip dysplasia and arthritis in both her hips, although not that sever and likely not root cause of any of her problems. (We’ve suspected this since her check up last year).
- Her bloodwork is all within normal ranges.
- Her appetite continues to decrease. She will not eat, and drinking is far too limited to be considered good.
Right now, the action plan is simple:
- Wait for another vet who specializes in x-rays to read the x-rays to give a second opinion. Hopefully he can determine what the void is. We should hear today. (This is the both the least invasive and most cost effective next step).
- Try to get her to eat, something, anything. The vet suggested ground beef and rice (our go-to stomach remedy for her, but she hasn’t been interested in it lately) or chicken/turkey baby food.
- Lots and lots of snuggles.
The not so simple part is deciding what to do based on the x-ray results. We suspect the options will be to do an ultrasound or exploratory surgery. Or, we may choose end of life care. At this point, only time will tell.
A
nd, so while I’m desperately hoping for good news, I know in my heart that she is not well.
I am completely devastated.
Mr. MPB is completely devastated.
Little MPB is completely oblivious.
While she is a large dog (90lbs), she’s only 7.5 years old. She’s a mixed breed rescue that was found abandoned in a farmers field with a few siblings at about 4 weeks old. After living in a foster home until she was old enough to be adopted, she came to live with us at about 8 or 9 weeks old. The day we brought her home I promised her that she’s always have lots of food, snuggles and love. I promised to always take care of her, and that she’d never have a worry again.
She has truly been our first child and has been spoiled beyond belief. She spent her first 5 years of life as an only child, and she soaked up all the one-on-one attention. She’s been my rock. She’s been at my side with every single pregnancy – I swear she knew I was pregnant before any positive pregnancy test or positive beta. She’s also been at my side with each loss – I swear she also knew when I lost each baby. She was glued to my side the second she knew I was pregnant until the second she knew I wasn’t pregnant – she didn’t let other near me and she didn’t ever jump on me or even paw me. And once the baby was gone, she cuddled with me through every miscarriage, even though she’s never been a cuddler.
She sheds everywhere, every single day, making sure to leave evidence of her favourite sleeping spots on the carpet. She loves a good tummy rub and ear scratch. She’s been our constant hiking companion, rain or shine. She’s our camping buddy and evening walking motivator. She loves everyone she meets and loves people unconditionally.
Life has clearly changed for her now that our son is here. She definitely hasn’t had as many walks, but we have never, not even for a second loved her any less. And now, she is our son’s best friend, even though she’s not completely sure about him. He looks for her at every opportunity, shouting puu-py constantly. He giggles when she licks him. He stops to pet her nose first thing every morning. He enjoys offering her food from his high chair and then quickly eating it himself (he thinks he’s rather funny, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t share the sentiment). But she especially likes when he is he’s willing to share his food and she happily snaps up whatever he lets go of. I’ve loved watching every moment of their relationship slowly develop, while she did not love him immediately, she has warmed up to him over time. I’m thankful she has not eaten him, or ever made a single threatening move towards him.
Truthfully, given her mutt status, we always assumed she’d have a healthy life and a long life. We feel slightly blindsided right now at the potential of how ill she is. Yet, we’ve always maintained that if she became sick, we wouldn’t prolong her suffering just for our sake. But now that we are faced with the possibility of having to say goodbye, I’ll admit, I’m not ready. And if saying goodbye is her best options, it will take every ounce of courage I have in me.
Just the thought of having to say goodbye is more then my heart can bear today. So, right now I have to keep hoping that she starts eating and drinking again, and that she just has an oddly tiny liver and a giant fatty spot where her intestines should be.
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My Perfect Breakdown 