desoto_hia873 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
desoto_hia873) wrote2006-04-11 12:57 pm
desoto_hia873) wrote2006-04-11 12:57 pm
Entry tags:
Breaking
It's amazing how many dogs you see around when you suddenly don't have one of your own anymore. I live in a suburb - they're everywhere.
Linus had hemangiosarcoma, for anyone who wants to learn about this sort of thing. He had no symptoms prior to his collapse on Friday - he might have felt some discomfort, but it wasn't enough to slow him down or affect his appetite. He was galloping around my mother's yard and thundering up and down her stairs on Thursday, and wolfed down dinner in his usual haven't-eaten-in-a-week fashion early Friday evening. The vet who examined him on Friday night palpitated his abdomen and couldn't feel the tumour despite its size.
Saturday's ECG showed that he had a very irregular heartbeat - the vet showed me the trace and it was a long way from normal even to my uneducated eyes - so the cancer may have spread to his heart. The abdominal ultrasound confirmed the tumour on his spleen and revealed several nodules on his liver that were probably more tumours. The tumour on his spleen was quite large - at least twice the size of the spleen itself. Close-up scans showed dark spots where it was bleeding out and a dark area near his bladder where blood was pooling in his belly. While sitting with him at the clinic on Friday evening, I also found a small lump under the skin of his left cheek. It looks like the cancer was all through him. There really was no way to save him.
I guess I'm writing this all down because Linus went from being an apparently perfectly healthy dog who wasn't even showing his age to an acutely ill and aged animal who had to be put to sleep in the space of less than 24 hours. Even though he was 13 years old, I never thought of him as 'old' because he never acted like it. He played with his squeaky toys incessantly and strangers often asked me how big he was going to get when he finished growing. I'm glad that he didn't have an extended period of decline, but a part of my brain keeps asking, "Why did you tell the vet to do it when he was fine just a few days ago?" If I can get my stupid head to accept that he really was very sick, then it will feel more like I saved him from inevitable suffering and less like I condemned him.
I don't usually use LJ for personal posts, but I'm taking this pretty hard. (Note to self: buy shares in Kleenex.) Due to events and my own illnesses in recent years, I'm very self-aware and I'm now in the peculiar position of watching myself shut down. My apartment is so empty when I go home (I live alone) and I don't know what to do with myself when I get there. So far, I've solved the problem by sleeping alot. Last night, I went to bed at 8 pm.
This is all a long-winded way of saying that I'm not keeping up with LJ very well at the moment - actually, I'm not keeping up with anything very well, except possibly any sleep deficit that I might have had - so please don't think that I'm ignoring you. I'll be OK; it'll just take me a little while to get there.
Eventually, I will find comfort in the fact that Linus went quickly and without suffering. He was a good dog and he deserved that.
Eventually, I will find comfort in the fact that my decision spared him a lingering, painful, and unavoidable death.
Right now, I find comfort in remembering that, when I arrived at the clinic on Saturday, he walked as fast as he could towards me, wagging his tail, and lay down next to me and went to sleep with his head on my lap. I was the centre of his world and he trusted me and that pretty much says it all.
I just wish it didn't hurt so damn much.
~*~
Thank you all so much for your kind words in comments to my last few posts. They mean more to me than you could possibly know. ::loves you all::
If you've lost a pet and want to do something that will help others in their memory, check out The Farley Foundation. You can also buy an engraved brick in the Founder's Path and Garden at the School for Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind. Linus and Daisy, the dog I grew up with, already share a brick there - Mom and I went to see it again on Sunday.
Linus had hemangiosarcoma, for anyone who wants to learn about this sort of thing. He had no symptoms prior to his collapse on Friday - he might have felt some discomfort, but it wasn't enough to slow him down or affect his appetite. He was galloping around my mother's yard and thundering up and down her stairs on Thursday, and wolfed down dinner in his usual haven't-eaten-in-a-week fashion early Friday evening. The vet who examined him on Friday night palpitated his abdomen and couldn't feel the tumour despite its size.
Saturday's ECG showed that he had a very irregular heartbeat - the vet showed me the trace and it was a long way from normal even to my uneducated eyes - so the cancer may have spread to his heart. The abdominal ultrasound confirmed the tumour on his spleen and revealed several nodules on his liver that were probably more tumours. The tumour on his spleen was quite large - at least twice the size of the spleen itself. Close-up scans showed dark spots where it was bleeding out and a dark area near his bladder where blood was pooling in his belly. While sitting with him at the clinic on Friday evening, I also found a small lump under the skin of his left cheek. It looks like the cancer was all through him. There really was no way to save him.
I guess I'm writing this all down because Linus went from being an apparently perfectly healthy dog who wasn't even showing his age to an acutely ill and aged animal who had to be put to sleep in the space of less than 24 hours. Even though he was 13 years old, I never thought of him as 'old' because he never acted like it. He played with his squeaky toys incessantly and strangers often asked me how big he was going to get when he finished growing. I'm glad that he didn't have an extended period of decline, but a part of my brain keeps asking, "Why did you tell the vet to do it when he was fine just a few days ago?" If I can get my stupid head to accept that he really was very sick, then it will feel more like I saved him from inevitable suffering and less like I condemned him.
I don't usually use LJ for personal posts, but I'm taking this pretty hard. (Note to self: buy shares in Kleenex.) Due to events and my own illnesses in recent years, I'm very self-aware and I'm now in the peculiar position of watching myself shut down. My apartment is so empty when I go home (I live alone) and I don't know what to do with myself when I get there. So far, I've solved the problem by sleeping alot. Last night, I went to bed at 8 pm.
This is all a long-winded way of saying that I'm not keeping up with LJ very well at the moment - actually, I'm not keeping up with anything very well, except possibly any sleep deficit that I might have had - so please don't think that I'm ignoring you. I'll be OK; it'll just take me a little while to get there.
Eventually, I will find comfort in the fact that Linus went quickly and without suffering. He was a good dog and he deserved that.
Eventually, I will find comfort in the fact that my decision spared him a lingering, painful, and unavoidable death.
Right now, I find comfort in remembering that, when I arrived at the clinic on Saturday, he walked as fast as he could towards me, wagging his tail, and lay down next to me and went to sleep with his head on my lap. I was the centre of his world and he trusted me and that pretty much says it all.
I just wish it didn't hurt so damn much.
Thank you all so much for your kind words in comments to my last few posts. They mean more to me than you could possibly know. ::loves you all::
If you've lost a pet and want to do something that will help others in their memory, check out The Farley Foundation. You can also buy an engraved brick in the Founder's Path and Garden at the School for Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind. Linus and Daisy, the dog I grew up with, already share a brick there - Mom and I went to see it again on Sunday.
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He went from no tumors to masses of them in two weeks so evidently in someone that small a lot can happen in a very short time.
You just have to remember all the good times you had together and laugh about all the funny little things they did and not dwell on the fact that they are gone. If you believe in this sort of thing my Sis goes to a Psychic Fair every year and they have an animal psychic there. She talked to Mr. Wurm and he told her how grateful he was for being put to sleep because he was so sick. He said he wants to come back as a new pet and that he sent Sis's current cat to her. Make of it what you will.
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Linus had a Wellness Check at his regular vet every year and last year's came out A-OK, so I believe everything went wrong in a short period of time.
You're right about remembering the good times - I feel better when I talk to people about them because he was such a character and made everyone laugh.
::hugs::
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Of course you're grieving hard, love. Of course you are. Just treat yourself like a beloved relative and talk to us when you need to. We're here.
And get yourself some Puffs with lotion or something - much easier on the eyes. Try to take some walks out in the world and get some air. I wish it didn't hurt so much, too, but if it didn't you wouldn't be as lovely a person. ::big strong hugs::
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Linus and I, we really 'got' each other. I had a horse when I was a teenager and we were the same way. Someday, I'll get another dog and do it again. When the grieving is over.
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Yeah, give yourself some space to remember. You've had a huge shock.
Just remember; beloved relative. Pamper yourself. And maybe, just maybe, figure out a little ceremony for yourself to say goodbye. Kind of your own personal memorial service to remember the good things.
:;big hugs::
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But you're right - eventually all my memories of him will be happy ones. I just have to wait a little longer.
::hugs::
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::hugs::
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The blind faith they have for you is amazing. Sometimes you want to be selfish and keep him around. They trust you to do the right thing and you did.
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Thanks for your support - it really means alot.
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You wrote this and, having gone through my own loss, I know how much it comforted me -
Right now, I find comfort in remembering that, when I arrived at the clinic on Saturday, he walked as fast as he could towards me, wagging his tail, and lay down next to me and went to sleep with his head on my lap. I was the centre of his world and he trusted me and that pretty much says it all.
Hold on to this.
::many hugs::
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You guys have all provided such wonderful support over the past few days - thank you.
::many, many hugs back::
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Just take it day-by-day and give yourself lots of breaks from the sadness.
*BIG HUG*
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Thank you so much for your support - it means alot to me.
::big hugs back::
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You're in my thoughts. I guess you need this time to grieve though, but also you're able to reflect on what a wonderful dog he was.
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::many hugs back::
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It DOES get better, though, and I'm so glad for Linus that he got to go out so happily and peacefully.
but a part of my brain keeps asking, "Why did you tell the vet to do it when he was fine just a few days ago?" If I can get my stupid head to accept that he really was very sick, then it will feel more like I saved him from inevitable suffering and less like I condemned him.
One of my beloved pets was a horse that I'd had for twenty years. The owner of the farm where I was boarding him called me one day to tell me that Pogo had tested positive for Coggins, which is the horse equivalent of AIDS. The vet said that Pogo wasn't sick himself, but he was a carrier of the disease, and would always be contagious to other horses. Coggins is spread by blood passed through fly bites, and there's no way to quarantine horses from flies. It made me sick to have him euthanized, but there's no telling how many horses' lives we saved by letting him go, and he went painlessly.
You did right by Linus. You saved him.
*sends a hug*
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I had a horse - well, technically a pony, but he was nearly a horse - when I was in high school. After I went to university, my sister rode and showed him for a couple of years and eventually he was sold to a family a few hours away. I visited him once when he was very old and I suspect they put him down that winter because he had heaves and always suffered in the cold air. But I've never actually heard from anyone definitively that he's not still alive, so in my mind he's still out in a field somewhere. Which would make him the oldest horse in the world, but denial is a wonderful thing. :-)
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You know what? If I were you, I think I'd get another dog right away. Maybe even TWO small dogs, so that they'd keep each other company during the day when you're away. Adopt them from a shelter or dog pound, if possible. You'll feel better for having helped out the shelter by taking a couple of dogs off their hands, you'll have a new buddy or two to offer you sympathetic licks and cuddles, and your apartment will feel full again.
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Thanks for your nice posts. All my LJ friends have been so supportive and it's helped alot.
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::hugs back::
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::hugs::
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::hugs you back::
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Man, if this is what it's like losing Linus, I don't even wanna think how it'll be when I lose my parents.
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I had to make that same decision two years ago about our family cat. It's so difficult and I'm so sorry that you have to go through this.
*many hugs again*