In Memory of Barkley

It's been a tough day. Full of firsts. The first morning not worrying about whether I'm up early enough to give Barkley his medication, or asking HB "how did the dawg do last night?". The first time we went shopping for dawg treats and spent less than twenty bucks. The first time I only had to fill one bowl for supper. No need to sit in the basement chair holding the bowl because there was no big dawg eating from my lap ... no sharing of pats while he ate his supper.

HB has been having a hard time. Barkley was his first dawg, and they adored each other. Because Frodo and Mini-Me were here last night, and because Frodo threw a drama fit, HB didn't really get a chance to say goodbye to Barkley.

He's really feeling it today, and I can't figure out how to help him. I did show him some video that I had taken of Barkley over the last weeks. And then we went and got two films developed. Here is some of what we found on that film. This post is in memory of our sweet, goofy Barkley. God speed big man.

The Sky Fell

Big Dawg, whose real name is Barkley, left us this evening.

He didn't get any better on Thursday, and this morning when I woke up I knew we would be making the appointment either today or tomorrow. As the morning wore on, I knew that I had crossed the line from making him comfortable for him to being selfish in keeping him here. HB called at 11:11 (angel time in my life) from school, and I told him that I was going to make the appointment for this evening. I called our clinic and was given an appointment for 6:40 p.m. - the last appointment of the day.

I spent all of the last hours that we had alone in the house here just sitting on the basement floor with him. He wouldn't eat or drink, so we just hung out and talked. I swear he nodded at me a few times. In fact, once I said "did you just nod?" and he nodded! He always was a smart guy ... understood every word we were saying and could put us on ignore when it was convenient.

Frodo and Mini-Me ended up coming to us unexpectedly tonight, which turned into a mixed blessing. Mini-Me joined Barkley and I on the floor, and my heart broke as he cuddled his buddy and sobbed. Then he started to tell me about a book that he had read at school that spoke of a bridge that dogs cross, and when they cross they are given a drink from a fountain called the fountain of memory. This drink lets them remember all the good things about the people who love them. (This 8 year old never ever fails to amaze me) Through his sobs he said "I want Barkley to remember that I love him, and that I fed him cookies, and that I didn't want him to go yet".

When it got close to the time, we got Barkley up. He walked on his own, with just a little help, to the truck. He has never just lay in the truck for any trip, but tonight he just lay down. There is no doubt in my mind that he was ready to cross tonight.

We walked into the clinic and his favourite vet assistant was working. She took us all into the room where she had made the most awesome, comfy bed for him on the floor. He immediately lay down right on the bed. She cuddled him for a bit before leaving. They let us have some time with him in there, and then the vet came in.

We had decided that HB would go with the kids to the waiting area while I stayed with Barkley. I thought I was really going to mind it, but in the end, it was a blessing for me to be alone with him. As HB said, it was a fitting end. I brought him home from the SPCA alone (we weren't married when Barkley and I found each other) and I brought him home to the bridge alone.

Barkley placed his head in my lap and locked eyes with me. I stroked his head, and told him it was ok, and how very much I loved him. The vet and the tech were both telling him what a good guy he was ... and how strong and brave he was ... and what a good friend he was. His paw sagged as the light faded from his eyes. He gave a very large, relieved sigh .... and a few seconds later, gave a second softer, peace filled sigh. And it was done. Two months to the day since he was diagnosed.

We covered him with a blanket. They left me with him and I was able to say goodbye on my own. I put his head gently down on the pillows. He looked like he always did when he lay in his wonky leg position on the floor at home.

And then I gathered my little family up and came home to our Sheba girl. She got some extra lovings tonight as a thank you for her patience and kindness toward her buddy the last few weeks.

Thank you all for your care and concern over these past two months. I also found an amazing amazing message board that has been an incredible source of support to me. If any of you love big dawgs, then check out http://bigpawsonly.com/ . What an amazing group of people.

Go give your dawgs a big hug from me tonight.

Whispering softly....

It's been five days since my last update, and once again I feel like the sky might be kind of falling down ... but I'm afraid to say it out loud. So I'll just kind of whisper it.

We had a great weekend. The kids were here all weekend, and surprisingly, Knothead didn't make a great display about needing them home with her when she woke up on Mother's Day. So I got to spend the morning helping them get ready to celebrate Mother's Day with her. Hmmm. What's wrong with that picture? But how do you say no to a kid who is asking you to help him make a card? I can't do it.

After we dropped them off, we loaded Big Dawg into the truck, along with HB's mother, and headed up to my sister's campground for an old fashioned family bitch fest. My family definitely puts the fun in dysfunctional when we're all together, and I love every moment of it.

They were delighted to see Big Dawg and kept getting annoyed with me referring to it as his farewell tour ... but really ... it probably was! We took him on short walks around the grounds and up through the woods. We fed him up good and let him lay around the deck soaking up the sun. He slept all the way home, and didn't seem to have over done it. The next two days he was more energetic and his appetite is astounding!

Today we came home from work to find him standing at the bottom of the stairs, unable to get up them at all. When I got him to walk toward me, it became apparent that his hind right leg is in trouble. He was "knuckling" ... which means just that ... walking on his knuckles on that paw.

I called our Dr. Awesomes, who told us to bring him in right away. He has preferred customer status there and they are so good to us.

She said it could be an injury, in which case the high dosage of prednozone that he's on and rest tonight should clear it up. She said it could also be neurological, and that a tumor or lymph node could be swollen to the point that it's pressing on his nerves, causing him to lose control of that back leg and not even realize that he's knuckling, in which case we're on the downward spiral and should consider euthenasia.

He was in obvious distress, but we chose not to medicate him any further. The only pain control he could be offered was morphine and we would have had to monitor his heart and everything. We just brought him home, and made him comfortable. If he's still not doing well in the morning, we'll take him down to the vet office for the day where they will be able to help him with the pain, monitor him and keep him until we can make whatever decisions we have to make.

Here's the kicker. It will be eight full weeks on Friday since he's been diagnosed. We were told he might have four weeks, so we've been on bonus time for the last four weeks. Throughout these eight weeks, I've been able to take a fair amount of time to work from home and be with him, take him to appointments, monitor him, etc. HB has even taken a day off here and there which is much harder for him to manage.

Tomorrow, however, neither of us can take off ... and we have to be out tomorrow night for a few hours as well. I have a major presentation to make. I've been building toward it for months now, and people are coming in from various parts of the province to be there. HB teaches at two schools, and one of the schools has its spring musical tomorrow night. He has rehearsals all day and then of course the play tomorrow evening. I was supposed to be helping him out tomorrow night, but may find myself unable to do so.

As long as I don't find myself back at the vet's, saying goodbye.

Besides ... how do I dare make this decision? Every time I whisper "the sky is falling", he proves me wrong. I want him to do that one more time. Keep that damn sky where it belongs.

Reprieve

I swear that I am not related to Chicken Little.

The sky did not fall down on Thursday, as previously posted and anticipated! Big Dawg spent all of Wednesday night lying on the basement floor.....came around only to eat some chicken and rice that I cooked up for him.

I cried until I had no more tears left. I slept on the basement floor with him, until 5 a.m. at which time he nudged me to wake up and let him outside.

When I brought him back in, he headed straight for his food bowl where his uneaten supper from the day before remained. I held it out for him and scarf.............gone!

By noon time, he was hanging out upstairs with me ... something he hasn't done in weeks.

By mid-afternoon I knew that there would be no final drive being taken that day.

Yes, my boy has rallied and decided to not only stick around, but perk up! He's the most highly medicated dawg in the neighbourhood, but hey, he's still here! And truly, we're not just keeping him around and fooling ourselves. The vet thinks that he had contracted an infection that sapped his appetite and caused his paw to swell up. The antibiotic seems to be helping significantly (at $10 per pill it should) and so we're in for a week's worth of that stuff.

And appetite? He ate the dawg food PLUS the chicken and rice last night and again this morning.

Maybe I'm going to have a half decent Mother's Day for once in my life, eh?

Not Long Now

and it will be over.

Big Dawg has lost his appetite. His right leg has swollen up, and he is no longer interested in moving off the basement floor.

HB and I have decided to take tomorrow off work. We will go buy him a great big t-bone steak, apples, grapes, cookies ... all the things he hasn't been able to have since this lousy cancer was diagnosed.

We will feed him well. We will cuddle him and love him up.

And then we will take that last drive to the vet's clinic.

My heart is breaking at the thought of it.

A Week in the Life of...without pictures

My friend Grins recently had a very cool post entitled "A Day In The Life of..." which depicts a day in the life of (smart huh?) all in pictures. Very cool. Perhaps I will do that some day soon. Only that would involved dragging me more than ample arse into this century and purchasing some sort of camera device that could actually allow me to post pictures directly to the web without first going through the whole "take my pictures to Walmart and get them put on a disc" thing.

So...what's up with our house and home this week some of you have asked? Tremendously exciting things ... we're just impossible to keep up with! (ed: snort!)

First, and most importantly, Big Dawg is still a vibrant part of the family. We are now into the seventh week since his diagnosis, and he's showing no signs of slowing down. One of the lymph nodes was a bit swollen last week, so Dr. Awesome upped the prednozone. He's on about 650 mg per day. When it is time for me to go, someone please put me on prednozone. Pullleeeazzzze. You eat like a horse, crave nothing but water, and lose weight! Seriously! Why hasn't someone turned me onto this drug a long time ago???

HB's band (aptly called Men w/ Issues) is playing at a happening local bar this weekend. This bar has a wicked step leading out of the place that averages four drunken falls per gig. Last night we were sitting at the table right beside this step, being the good groupies that we are, when this poor woman comes careening down the step directly at me. I think I spent too much time with the kids last week. Barely missing a beat in the conversation, I reached out and caught her. She carried on out the door, and I continued talking to my friends, who sat there gobstruck. It was that eye in the back of your head maternal double grab instinct that kicked in. The only problem is mine isn't fully developed (you know...what with only being an evil step mother and all) so my "grab" was really more of a "jack your thumb into the woman's armpit" thing. This morning my thumb is sore, and somewhere in Dartmouth there is a hung over woman waking up with a tender armpit.

New courses began this week. I'm going to be a pasty white chick this summer because of this work load. We registered for paddling the other day, but I'm thinking that's going to be money wasted. These are intense and heavy assignment schedules! Remind me again why I've decided to cram this degree into 24 months while working full time?

Hmmm....just rereading this. Perhaps I should just stay far away from a day in the life of in pictures. Might not be pretty.