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How Best To Prepare


gusmum
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Hello all, I really need to gleen from all your wisdom and experiences. What did you do when the time came to say goodbye?

Did you plan ahead? Was is a sudden decision? What signs did you look for that told you it was time? Did you take time off work? How did you cope?

My Gus is 16+ and every day is a bonus for us. I love him with all my heart but I'm looking for the sign from him. He's such a trooper, still eats, loves his chicken necks, follows me around when he can, uses the doggy door and just makes it outside when he needs to go. But he's also tripping and stumbling, pacing up and down at all hours of the night, can't really see or hear us, and is losing weight. He just tripped a little while ago and poo'd. Probably out of shock and trying to get himself up. I got him up and put him to bed and he's snoring now, but I'm worried about how he'll handle the summer, and don't feel the conviction to play god if he's still fighting to be around. I don't know whether to set a date, or do I just call the vet to get out here in 24hrs or what? Sorry this is so long winded but it's been so many sleepless nights watching over him and making sure he's ok. The vet said the time comes when he's disconnected, bedridden or incontinent. I don't want to put him down because it's inconveniencing my lifestyle or lack of sleep, I want to do the right thing by him. Thanks so much everyone.

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I don't know if there is an easy answer to this.

I feel like I was in a fortunate situation where everything went down hill very quickly (and not in an overly traumatic way), and when I spoke with the vet we decided that there was no good course of treatment. I, like you, had been trying to figure out what I would look for and when the time came I saw it - but I didn't know what it was until that day I saw it.

So my story - Emma was diabetic, lots of surgery recently with complications (that didn't help her overall health), then she got pneumonia and a few weeks later became hyperglycaemic. With all of those things going on I sort of knew time together was going to be a lot shorter than I wanted it to be. And ended up spending quite a few evenings in tears trying to figure out how I would cope without her. So I made a decision that we would do all the things she loved and see all the people she loved - I didn't care if we did that for 2 years, I just wanted to make sure that it happened!! Anyway, 5 days before she died she was still doing all the things she loved, coming and working with kids, going on walks, playing with her jingle ball. But, she was being really fussy with her food. This made me think something was up. Then over the following few days she gradually stopped eating and food made her throw up. So we were in at the vets a few days in a row, both they are I just thought that it was a product of us playing with her insulin levels to try and get them right. But on the last day we did a full blood screen because her blood sugar was coming back at a good level. She picked up during the day at the vet and was eating, but they called me at 2pm to come in as she had dramatically gone down hill. Between then and me arriving her bloods came back and her kidney function was almost non-existant. So as far as I was concerned there was no choice to be made. She had been telling me the previous couple of days through her eating pattern and cuddles that her time was here. Also I think my other dog Kenzie knew that Emma wasn't going to be with us, the previous night she had slept the whole night on my bed cuddled up to me - something she never ever does and hadn't done since. So we were in a situation where there was only 1 acceptable course of action and I was very lucky that up until that moment she had been very happy and able to do all the things she always did.

So, I'm a big believer of "they will let you know". But you have to be prepared to see it. Otherwise (and maybe also) be guided by your vet if you trust them. I trust my vet implicitly. At the time she told me of things we could do for Emma, and when I pushed her and said "but none of them will work" she was very honest and said no and if it were her dog she wouldn't go through the treatment. And Em had spent enough time with them I think they almost thought of her as their dog a bit!! It was really heart wrenching for my vet and the nurse to be there at the time, I think my vet had been in tears all afternoon and I know that she sat with Em from the moment she went downhill until Kenzie and I were able to get there.

Anyway, how did I cope? I don't really think I am coping yet (and it was 3 months ago). :( I'm in tears writing this, but I have gone from crying daily to now it's only maybe a couple of times a week. If I didn't have Kenzie I wouldn't cope at all (I live on my own so there's not even another person to deflect this stuff off). I think in some ways it's been harder for me, because I started a new job 2 weeks after she died and she was supposed to be coming to work with me every day - so there was that massive gap (Kenzie comes sometimes now instead!). I was lucky I was on holidays at the time as there is no way that I was able to do much that week and I was very lucky that I was babysitting a friends puppy so when Kenzie and I came home it was to a playful house which I think was really good for both of us.

SO, like I said there's no real answer!! You can only do what you can do. I take comfort in the words of one of my vets who said that she see's putting an animal to sleep as a great privelidge and honour as it is the last great thing you can do for them. The card she sent me said... don't cry because it's over smile because it happened. I'm still working on it but I know what she meant!

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Thank you Pretty Miss Emma for your beautiful words. I know it must've been hard for you to express them - although cathartic is a way. Gus has been with me through so much of life's ups and downs and I just want to do the right thing by him. It's hard when everyone has such strong views on whether to euthanase or not and the responsibility of a beautiful creature's life in your hands. I just don't want to take his before his time. Yes, my vets have been amazingly supportive and they've told me to give him whatever he wants - which he's already getting anyway. And you're right, I've been told they will let you know so I'll remain vigilant for his sign. I just hate seeing him so skinny although he's eating fine, and staggering around after me like a stubborn mule.Right now I'm too worried about Gus to think about how I'll cope when the inevitable time comes. But I know I have to and will. You're lucky you have Kenzie with you to cuddle at night and make the sorrow a little sweeter. Bless.

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Pretty Miss Emma you've hit it right on. There is never an easy answer and the best answer is to look for the signs.

Poochie's story is very much like your Emma's; only without the diabetes. She'd been a healthy dog her entire life with the exception of having undiagnosed seasonal mange for about 14 years -- our local vet supplied us with cortisone injections to relieve her symptoms rather than finding the problem. As she only ever flared up in summer it didn't seem to be a problem and as I was young, I didn't know any better -- neither did the family because we didn't know much about dogs.

Once Poochie was 14ish, I took control over all our pets' care and was fed up with the cortisone as I'd heard that it's not very good for animals. I changed vets and in a 2 hour long consultation discussing the what ifs and lengthy/costly allergy tests for an elderly dog, he decided on a skin scraping just to rule out mange mites. Lo and behold, the slide turned up tonnes of the buggers, which he treated and she got over -- apparently dogs are supposed to have a natural immunity to this specific mange, but every summer, Poochie's forgot to kick in.

After that we thought "woo hoo", Poochie's all fine and dandy. It wasn't until I was bathing her about a year later that I noticed she'd grunt whenever I touched her abdomen. Took her to the vet who said she did feel bloated and quite firm, so he gave her pain relief and told us to watch her. About a month later I noticed her oozing from her rear end, which I knew wasn't right so she went back to the vet for a follow-up. He told us she had pyometra (pus filled uterus), which we didn't believe as my parents were adamant she'd been desexed.

It turns out she wasn't desexed as a puppy -- I can remember as a 10ish year old her going into heat once and then never again and I think this is why my parents assumed she'd been desexed. The fact that there was no messy seasons to clean up after, one would assume she'd been spayed. And mum had 5 young kids to look after too so we were a busy family. (To this day I strongly believe the fact she never went on heat was due to the tumour growing in her.)

Anyway, as it appeared the pyometra was severe, Poochie was rushed to surgery to have it removed. I was driving home from work about 7:40 at night when I got the dreaded phone call (after waiting for the "she's ok" call all day): Poochie didn't have pyometra but a huge ovarian tumour the size of a rockmelon attached to her left ovary and kidney and he wasn't able to remove it.

Poochie was stitched back up and we were referred to specialist surgeon Dr David Lidbetter in Parramatta, who we grilled in regards to Poochie's chances of survival. He told us he was confident he could remove the tumour and although I had my doubts, my parents and the rest of my family agreed to go through with the surgery. And it was just as well because the tumour itself was about to rupture -- hence the oozing.

Dr Lidbetter was fantastic and true to his word! He saved Poochie's life and told us to come and collect her a few days later as she was eating him out of house and home -- that's our Poochie. She always loved her food!! :laugh:

She bounced back like an all new dog -- she was like a puppy again and was able to keep up with my then 9 month old pup Zeus.

We had another 6 glorious months with Poochie before she stopped eating and for Poochie to refuse food was odd. She'd eat anything! We gave her a few days hoping she'd come good, however, she very quickly went down hill. She'd lost a lot of weight very quickly and I can still see her lying stretched out in pain on her hammock bed looking miserable. I took her to the vets where after a few tests I was told the news wasn't good -- her kidney functions were bad and there was nothing they could do. I wasn't ready for Poochie to go -- not after having survived and bounced back so well after her surgery -- so we discussed what options were available.

The vet said we could try dialysis but he couldn't guarantee it would work and as dad was there too, he told me it was time to let Poochie go. I had the horrible job of phoning my 4 brothers at home, telling them the news and to get down to the clinic quickly to say their goodbyes. Mum was at work in Sydney and couldn't get back, but she told me she'd said her goodbyes that morning (it was like she knew she said). So it was there, at about 4:20 in the afternoon of April 24th, I lost the best friend I'd ever had. Poochie was my heart dog and even though I lost her over a year ago now, I'm bawling as I type this.

The hardest thing was to decide what to do with Poochie's remains as our family has never been through anything like that before. Mum wanted to let the vet deal with her remains but I felt that as a family member, Poochie deserved more than being tossed in a furnace with other animals. Our vet lovingly offered to keep Poochie's body until we made our decision, which wasn't until 5 days later. None of the family could agree on what to do with her body and I was constantly told it was "my decision" -- I didn't want to be the bearer of that responsibility as Poochie was a family pet, therefore it was a family decision. I resented my family for how they acted but I now see that they don't get quite so attached to animals as I do.

The following morning I was back at work -- I spent most of my shift crying my eyes out in the staff toilet -- so I didn't have time to process what I was feeling. Finally, sick of the lack of caring on my family's behalf, 5 days later I phoned Pets at Peace and had them collect Poochie from the vet clinic. Poochie was delivered in a beautiful scatter box, which I clung onto desperate to keep Poochie close and 6 months after her death I was able to scatter her ashes in our garden. I have kept some ashes in 2 glass pendants/vials on necklaces: one is in her scatter box along with her last collar, lead and pet tag and the other I keep in my jewellery box and I wear it to special occasions, like the Million Paws Walk I did in her honour in 2010, as she wasn't able to be there herself.

It will never be an easy decision regardless of circumstances but it's true. You just know. I was just glad I was there for her until the very end.

Like Pretty Miss Emma, I'm still not coping with the loss myself and Poochie was PTS about a year and a half ago now and I still feel like there's a hole in my heart. I had a fantastic 16+ years with Poochie and that's not something I'm likely to forget in this lifetime and if it wasn't for Zeus, I would've died myself. Now I have Kirah Little too -- another Aussie Terrier -- who in no way replaces Poochie, but helps me remember the wonderful life we shared.

Everyone copes with loss differently and I went through a huge guilt and anger stage: was angry at my mother because she seemed so cold about Poochie's death (she's only a dog e.g.) and angry at myself because I was more upset over Poochie (a dog) than over all my grandparents (I've lost all 4, plus a great grandmother). There was no one I could talk to, because I talk to mum about everything but she couldn't understand how I was feeling and I'd accused her of being a cold, unfeeling b****. And it didn't help that I had to go to work every day and didn't have time to process her death properly.

I still get upset when I think of her, however, with time it's getting better. I'm able to think about things she did with a smile and look at photos of her and laugh over her silly antics -- like pulling herself up our cubby house ladder and rolling down them as they were too steep to walk down!

It was the right decision in the end as it wouldn't've been fair keeping her alive under those circumstances. She'd been a fantastic girl and it was time for the family to do the only kind thing possible -- let her go.

Sorry for the long ramble -- it's hard to keep any story of my Poochie-Pie short. I will :heart: her forever!

And :hug: to you, Pretty Miss Emma. I totally understand and feel the pain of your loss.

Edited for punctuation and spelling!

Edited by RiverStar-Aura
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