It Was Time to Say Goodbye

We said goodbye to K yesterday, Thursday, February 22, around 4:30 PM. She went peacefully, quickly, with the two people she loved most in this world right by her side. It was horrible, but beautiful. And it hurt like Hell.

This is not an easy to write, but I owe many people an explanation. K had lots of fans on social media. Many people enjoyed the pics and videos I shared on Facebook and, more-recently, on Instagram. I have lots of “dog friends” through my association with Brittany rescue groups. Other people probably get sick of the flood of dog stuff, but my dog friends get it. K never knew she had such a following.

We learned of K’s prognosis the day after Christmas. It’s explained fully in the second half of this blog post. I selfishly did not post it on Facebook because I knew she had lots of fans and I knew I would have a hard time reading all of the comments from well-wishers. We really did work very hard not to dwell on the sadness of it all so her final time in her physical body could be well-spent and as happy as possible. She was such a good dog. Really.

Looking back to December when we got news of K’s condition, she held on much longer than we thought she would. The mass in her lung was big. We were managing the pain fairly well, but the lung was the big unknown. As much as we wanted to make everything better — remove the mass and make our K as good as new again! — we had to be realistic for K’s sake. We do not know her exact age. When we got her, they estimated her birth year as 2006, which made her about three, a year older than Belle. But as K aged over the last few years, I became convinced that she was older than that. Belle will be 11 in June. I suspect K would have been about 13, maybe even a bit older.

Lung surgery would have been very difficult and very painful for K. She was terrified of going to the vet and didn’t handle that kind of pain well. I couldn’t imagine how she would have felt being forced to spend at least a couple of days at the vet’s in recovery, not to mention the weeks of recuperation at home. Because of her advanced age, we did not want to put her through that.

She made it through January okay. We could tell that it was getting harder for her to breathe, though. And she was clearly wearing out sooner during our walks. I wasn’t sure if it was due to her lung issue or the arthritis pain, so I started giving her CBD oil at that time, too. That was in addition to the Previcox (a Cox-2 non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medication used in dogs for the relief of pain and inflammation due to osteoarthritis), glucosamine, and Omega-3 we had already been giving her. Those things made a huge difference for K, but I wanted to do more if we could.

CBD oil is similar to medical marijuana, but without the psychoactive properties. In other words, it did not make K high. It did, however, make a HUGE difference for her. I knew some local friends had used it for their terminally ill dog, so I asked them for a recommendation on where to purchase. They recommended Canna-Pet as the best they’d found, so I decided to give it a try. (More about the company later.)

The oil arrived on a Saturday afternoon (February 3). Recommended dosage for her weight is 3-4 drops, three to four times a day. The web site says directly in mouth, but we put it on a treat or in her food.

She got an afternoon and evening dose on that first Saturday and four doses daily after that. Hubby Mike asked on Monday, around lunchtime, if I’d noticed a difference. Other than sleeping more, I hadn’t. Later that day, after dinner, she was almost bouncing off the walls. I could tell she felt good and wanted to get OUT. So we walked. That day, she walked faster and further than she had in over a month!!! It was kind of unbelievable, really. I was really happy that K could truly enjoy her walks again!

Then, in mid-February, we started noticing a build-up of fluid under her skin. It was evident in her chest first, then in her neck. That’s why she looks so different in the top photo. It got increasingly worse over the weekend. I took her to see the vet early on Monday, hoping he’d say they could just stick a tube under her skin, drain the fluid, and buy her more time. But it wouldn’t have been that simple. It would have required sedation and a needle-guided ultrasound. He did another X-ray, and we saw that the mass had doubled in size since December. That lung was basically collapsed and no longer functioning. Plus it was displacing her esophagus and pressing on her heart.

By Monday night, I knew in my heart it was time. Mike said as much on Tuesday morning. We both agreed that it would be best for her to pass quietly at home, while she was still relatively comfortable, than to wait for a traumatic, emergent event that would very likely involve pain and fear for her. She always got really scared going to the vet, so we asked him to come to our house. I have no idea if he always does that, if there’s some extra fee involved, or if he was just being nice, but he agreed to come on Thursday at 4:00. We are very grateful that he did. We think it was good for Belle to be there, too.

Sorry, I’m trying to tell you everything without being too sad. Honest.

I kind of knew late last week that K’s time was drawing near. I knew her well. She was my girl. I could tell she was getting tired. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself or say it out loud. That’s why I decided to take her with me on a dog transport I’d agreed to do on Saturday. She was always a great road trip buddy.

On Sunday, I took the girls for an afternoon walk. That’s when I decided to let K determine where we went and how far we walked. It’s kind of fun to just follow your dog for a change, interesting to see where they really want to go. We did our normal route at first and then went to places we didn’t usually see. It was almost like she was thinking, “Hey, I’ve always wanted to check that spot out!”

We even found our way into the middle of a street where they both got to sniff long and hard at a well-flattened squirrel. Luckily there was no traffic. I imagine that really made K’s day. She was clearly exhausted when we got home. It took her a good while to catch her breath.

K led the way on every walk from that point on. Amazingly, we went to different places every single time, and each walk lasted about an hour. It was the weirdest thing. It is almost like she KNEW her remaining time was getting shorter.

I think it was Tuesday at lunchtime when we walked yet another path we hadn’t trodden for quite a while. Both dogs were super-excited sniffing in the middle of one street. They’d sniff for a bit,  go a couple feet, then sniff again. I could tell just how excited by all the weird snorting and huffing sounds they were making. Finally, I realized why. There was a freshly flattened squirrel further down the street. The head end was bloody, so I circled around to let them sniff the tail end.

“I hope it was one of the bastards that tormented you in our yard!” I told K.

Belle sniffed the thing pretty closely as K was still sniffing at the street. When K finally saw the body, she hurried right over and, to my horror, picked it up! It was so fresh that the body was still floppy! I involuntarily yanked her leash, and she dropped it, thank goodness. But I am actually glad she got to do that. I imagine holding a dead squirrel again, however briefly, REALLY made her happy. (She’s always been hunting-obsessed. My dog friends will understand.)

Wednesday evening, we even got caught in a thunderstorm! I could’ve asked Mike to come and rescue us, but we’d been caught in the rain before and made the best of it, so we did that again. All part of our adventure together.

I’m back! You didn’t know I left, did you? As I was writing that earlier, I had an overwhelming urge to take Belle for a walk. Completely out of the blue. I’d told her I owed her some good, full-speed walks since I’d been forcing her to walk more slowly for such a long time.

More about today’s walk later, for now, let’s get back to K.

I could tell it was getting harder and harder on her as each day passed. The walks exhausted her, but she absolutely loved our daily walks, and loved being outside in general. I think the recent spell of warmer-than-usual temperatures really brought out the smells. There were a couple of cars I literally had to drag K away from. She would not stop sniffing them. They were either mouse infested or had recently run-over some poor critter. Her hearing was impaired and she couldn’t see well at all, but there was nothing wrong with her sense of smell.

I worked for a few hours yesterday morning and was going to work in the afternoon, too. I figured K would just sleep most of the day, as she’d been doing more and more. I have a friend who cleans our house on Thursdays, so a little after 10:00 I decided to take the girls for a quick little walk so my friend could work in the family room. I let K lead again.

We stopped at the end of our driveway. We stood there for a few minutes. She was just sniffing the air, looking around, like she couldn’t decide which way to go. Belle finally got tired of waiting and headed toward Main Street (our normal route), so we went that way. I guess K just couldn’t make up her mind and decided to go along with it.

We usually walk all the way to the end of Main Street, just past the courthouse, but K paused as we crossed Fourth Street, then hung a left. At first, I thought maybe she’d just decided the downhill would be easier. We meandered our way in and around the Wort Hog brewery, and Claire’s at the Depot restaurant. Then we made our way between two buildings and came out at the Warrenton Branch Greenway. It’s a walking/biking trail that was an old railroad bed. I would not have chosen that path for K. She loved it, but it was long. However, K chose that path and I followed. I figured she would want to turn around soon enough, when she got too tired. Not K.

I literally picked her up and turned her around three different times, trying to get her to change direction and head back toward home, but she wouldn’t have it. She was very insistent and wanted to keep going. Knowing she had about five hours left of her life, how could I refuse her? So we kept walking. (I knew Mike could come pick us up if he had to.)

She walked for a mile and a half! We’d stop periodically so they could sniff stuff. And once so K could watch a squirrel. But she was determined to keep going and didn’t appear to be struggling. I knew she’d feel it later, but I let her do what she wanted to do.

When we got to the bridge that crosses US 29, she discovered that a mouse or some other critter, was living within the structure of the bridge. K was a hunter again! Totally, obsessively in her element. From that moment until just about the time we got back to the house, I think she felt a bit like the old K again. That dog LOVED to hunt. She hunted everything. All the time. Bugs, bees, cats, squirrels, birds, crickets, whatever. If it moved, she would hunt it.

She was so happy, and so obsessed, I couldn’t drag her away. I really should have gone back to the house to do some more work, but how could I tear her away? She’d been such a good, funny, loving companion to me, I had to let her be.

I stood there for at least an hour and let her have her fun. But the clock was ticking. We couldn’t put off the inevitable forever. It wasn’t until I finally walked away with Belle that I got K’s attention. That’s the only way I could get her to abandon that prey. There was clearly adrenaline coursing through her veins because we walked the whole mile and a half to the other end of the trail at Belle-speed. We only stopped once when K saw a squirrel (she stood and watched him eat a walnut  then was ready to continue on).

We didn’t go straight home once we reached the end of the trail, either. She insisted that we go north on Fifth to Main Street. She wanted to turn left and keep exploring, but I had to insist that we go home. It was a little after two when we got back to the house. We’d been gone for almost three hours. Our longest walk ever! Once  she caught her breath and rested a bit, I gave both girls the last of their Chick-fil-A ice cream. Then I cuddled up with my girl and waited for the doc. She’d been unable to get comfortable since we’d gotten back from the walk. It was definitely time. For K, I think it was a really good last day.

She passed around 4:30. I’d been trying hard to keep it together, for K’s sake. It was way harder than we’d thought it would be, and I knew it would be bad.

Sorry, that’s the really sad part. So I will change the subject…

Earlier today when I got that overwhelming urge to walk, I looked at Belle. She was laying on her bed, looking sad. I knew a walk would perk her up. I’d been thinking I would retire K’s leash, but I figured using it would sort of be like having K along. Or, at the very least, it made leaving the house without my girl a little less painful.

In the aftermath, it’s the little things like that that really get to you. First time leaving the house for a walk without K, first walk without K… I’d already lost it a couple of times earlier in the morning, our first morning routine without K.

Belle and I were plodding along when I decided to take a picture of Belle using K’s leash. She was walking right at the edge of the trail, right in front of me. Just about the time I put my phone back into my pocket, Belle stopped. She was clearly weirded-out, looking around her. I looked, too, and didn’t see anything. She was looking for something, clearly. Whether she saw anything or not, I will never know. As I started walking again, this overwhelming sense of comfort and happiness flooded through my chest. It was the weirdest thing. I just felt warm, peaceful, and happy. I may have even smiled. The feeling stayed with me as Belle started walking again. That’s when I realized she was no longer right in front of me. She’d moved away from the edge of the trail, and she was walking a lot faster, too.

I had to switch the leash to my left hand so I could grab my phone with the right. I wanted to take a picture to prove that she’d moved away from the edge of the trail. I think she’d moved over to make room for K. Immediately after that thought crossed my mind, that feeling of happiness surged through my chest again. And then it was gone.

I knew it was K. For a precious few moments, I could feel her. It almost took my breath away. And then it was gone. We were just walking again.

It would have been so much like K, too. As soon as that drug entered her body yesterday, she started pulling away. Seconds later, she was gone. It was almost as if as soon as she realized we were trying to help her leave that beautiful, but failing, old body, she left it. She had been sticking very close to me for weeks. I think she knew her time here was coming to an end, too. But she didn’t want to leave us any more than we wanted her to go. She’d been such a good dog. She stayed as long as she did because we needed her, too. When she finally realized that we understood it was her time and were ready for her to be free, she went. The drugs just made is a wee bit easier.

And I imagine she’s been cavorting like a crazy dog ever since, in the great beyond, whatever or wherever that may be. (For animals, the meeting spot is called the Rainbow Bridge.) I imagine Special K wreaking all sorts of havoc as she runs pell-mell through the crowd of animals, screaming like a banshee. Chasing all the kamikaze squirrels who want to be chased. (Not catching or killing any, of course, that’s an ugly reality of real life.) Then she remembered we’re back on this plane, heartbroken beyond belief, probably worried about her. So she popped in for a quick hello. I could almost hear her say, “Hunting is fun, Mama. I want to do it again!” Panting heavily from excitement, not because her stupid, old, useless, physical lung wouldn’t let her breathe, as she crashes off again through the trees.

Maybe that’s all just bullshit, just some crazy stuff I tell myself to make it easier on me. It’s certainly less-painful thinking she’s okay, even happy where she is, than it is worrying she’s off somewhere, feeling lost or scared because she couldn’t find Mama. Perhaps it is hog-wash. But then again, maybe it’s true. I sure want to believe it is. I felt her.

I really loved that special dog. I know the pain will subside as time passes, and that she’ll be in my heart and mind forever, but right now it just plain HURTS.

Here are a few video links if you are interested. First, a video of K mousing in West Virginia. The blocks and stuff were leftovers from construction. Watch it and you will see what I mean about her level of obsession. The sound is her cry of frustration. This is how I want to remember her. Mouse Hunting