Today was the last day of his wonderful life. A few months ago he started limping on his right front leg. We took him to the vet and the doc told us that he had a form of bone cancer that spreads extremely fast and will eventually attack his lungs. The word "terminal" is unassuming to read, but to hear about a dear friend or adored pet is devastating. The vet presented us with all of the options: surgery that will increase pain but prolong life, euthanasia, or pain management allowing a natural progression and eventual demise. We chose to act as Hector's own personal Hospice.
For the last 2 months Hector didn't move. He occasionally would roll around. He could sit up to eat or drink, but that was the extent of his movement. He couldn't get up to go outside to relieve himself, so he just would go where he was so we changed bedding twice a day and washed the nastiness off of him every day. We rolled him over and massaged him to prevent sores, hand fed him (which was more treats than food), gave him pain medication, and comforted him when he was frightened in the middle of the night.
The last three days he took a horrible turn. He was in horrible pain regardless of the medication, he refused to eat or drink, his eyes had a look of sorrow and fear that I have never seen in a human or animal, and his whimpered moans were getting more and more desperate. A decision had to be made.
*** editorial ***
The decision to euthanize a pet is something that I have never taken lightly. It is basically a decision to take this creature with a distinct personality and loving soul who loves and trusts you with its well being and care, and carry them off and have them killed. It isn't an easy decision. I have done this before and actually held my cat, Mystie, while the shot was delivered.
Feeling the life drain out of someone is a humbling and horrible experience, if you can avoid it, do. However if you can make the decision to end the life of a pet then you should have to stay with them while it happens.
*** End Editorial ***
Anyway, the decision was made and Mrs. E-Rock called the vet to make an appointment. The appointment was made for 5:20 this evening. I was the last to leave the house this morning, so I spent 20 minutes with Hector comforting him. He wouldn't eat. I offered him lunch meat, peanut butter and ice cream (dogs love these items, but it's terrible for their health, don't feed this crap to your dogs) just to see if he would eat. He wouldn't. That helped reassure me that the right decision had been made, so I gently stroked his fur, told him that I loved him and left for a few hours of work.
I left my shop somewhere around 2:30 p.m. so I could have an hour or so to hang with Hector before I took him to the vet to take the $60.00 nap. When I arrived home near 2:45 p.m., I went back to the bedroom where Hector had set up camp to find he had passed while we were away.
This is where fact fades away to speculation and spirituality.
Did Hector wait until he was alone to die? Did he wait until he knew and felt we were ready to accept it? Does he think we did an acceptable job of hospice care? Did he knw we did all we could do? Did my other dog, Isaac, (see my top friends list) help ease his fear and uncertainty while this was happening?
I don't know. I'll never know.
Hector is greatly loved and missed. He wasn't with us very long, but he taught me lessons about caring for something that is completely helpless that will carry on to my child which will need that help in a few short months.
Bye, Hector. You are missed.
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