Thursday, December 30, 2010

Goodbye 2010

I am very glad that 2010 is ending.  2010 has easily been the worst year of my life.

I am going to apologize in advance for any typos.  Usually I carefully reread to catch any, but I won't be rereading this post.

It all started in mid March when Lady got sick.  She had chronic diarrhea for two months.  She went to MSU (they wanted to do an intestinal biopsy), and Oakland (they wanted to try a new food, you can guess which one I chose), and finally, it stopped thanks to the food.  She lost fifteen pounds.
This was very hard for me.  This was the first time in seven years of owning dogs that my local vet (which I love) couldn't help me.  Having to go to MSU was traumatizing.  They took Lady from me at the door.  I met the a vet once and then waited for four hours by myself in a waiting room with no updates.  At one point, a tech walked her past the room on the way to get an ultrasound and I stepped out, asked her to stop, I was crying, I just wanted to pet her, see how she was doing!  The girl looked at me like I was crazy and kept walking.  I was frustrated and infuriated.  I was so relieved when I got her back from all of her tests.  When they all came back normal or negative, they wanted to jump into surgery.  By this time, Squeak was already at Oakland, fighting for her life.  I took Lady there for a consultation and thankfully a simple food change worked.
Squeak's gums started bleeding on April 14.  It was her fourth birthday, my twentieth birthday.  They bled for three days before I could arrange to go up north to my vet.  They bled so badly that if she set her head on anything, my lap, a blanket, the couch, she left bloodspots behind her.  My comforter was covered with bloodspots.  The night before the appointment, I noticed a rash all over her belly, chest, and legs.  The spots spread overnight.
By the time we got to the vet the spots were larger.  They said the spots weren't a rash, but bruises, pinpoint hematomas.  Though her platelet levels were normal, they suspected rat poisioning.  They injected her with Vitamin K, and gave me tablests and told me to monitor the spots.  After about an hour, they had started to swell, blood was leaking under her skin.  We rushed her the an emergency clinic in Saginaw at our vet's reccomendation, as she would be able to recieve a transfusion if her platelets dropped there.  She was monitored overnight.  We got a call in the morning that her platelet levels were still normal and we could go get her.
When we arrived, Squeak did not wag her tail, try to jump on us, she didn't even react to the resident cat.  The bruises were huge and black.  We said she wasn't herself, and they reccommended us to Oakland Veterinary Referral Services.  I though she was going to die in the car.  By the time we got there her platelets were down to 7,000.  30,000 is considered low.  She was on death's door.  She stayed at Oakland for five days.  They determined that she had immune mediated thrombocytopenia.  Her immune system was attacking her platelets.  The was probably due to a reaction to a vaccine she had gotten less than four weeks earlier.  When she left her platelets were up to 116,000.  We picked her up on April 21.
She lasted about a month.  She was on Prednisone, Pepcid, Metronidazole, and Karafate.  Denosyl, Lixotinic, and Sporocycline were added.  It seemed she got a pill every hour of the day.  It was just too much for her.  She wasn't reacting to the medications like she should have been, bruises kept showing up.  In that last month we went to two vets nine times.
During one bruise scare all she needed was a blood test to check her levels.  It was 11:00pm.  I called Animal Health Associates.  The vet would not do the blood test becasue Squeak was not a patient there.  My vet was on the phone with me two hours north trying to get hold of a vet down here, no one would take her.  I lost it on that vet from AHA, though.  I swore at him, I screamed at him, the asinine bast***.  I threw the phone, it broke, I ripped the phonebook.  I was screaming.  I had completely lost my mind.  I almost drove over there to take my anger out on him in person.  I was crying screaming sobbing.  My lungs were on fire.  I was just trying to save my little girl and this ass had the nerve to repeatedly tell me that he would not help me, with sick sarcasm in his voice.  I tell everyone I can about this incident.  And Dr. Imlay has and is going to lose clients because of it.  I ended up driving Squeak to the emergency clinic in Saginaw that night.  We got there around 2am.  We didn't get home until about 5am. 
The morning of May 25, Squeak would not eat.  Anything.  She had been getting pickier and pickier due to the many medications she was on, but theis was different.  She refused food.
I took her outside in the sun and she looked so haggard and worn.  Her four year old little brown face had begun to turn grey just in the past month.  But the sun was shining on her and the grass was so so green.  I looked down at her, thought about everything I was doing for her and said three simple words just to her, "I love you."  She looked at me.  Then she turned and vomited.  It was so clear to me that she was giving up.
I called the vet as soon as we got in.
We had just run a slew of tests three days ago to try to figure out why none of the medications were working.
The only thing the vet had left was a bone marrow aspiration to diagnose a hereditary disease that there was no treatment for.  It would have to be done at Oakland.  It was a harrowing procedure, there was no guarantee she would make it.  She gentley said that we may have to consider other options. 
By this point, I had been watching Squeak suffer for a month.  I mean, she was never the same dog once her gums started bleeding.  She wouldn't play, she growled at Lady, she slept and laid around all day.  She was not the bouncy quirky little beagle she had always been.
It was almost a relief to think about ending her suffering.
Almost.
I coudn't make myself put her through the procedure.
We drove Squeak and Lady up north.  Her appointment was for 3:00.
Once we reached my parents house I went in my old room and laid on the bed with her.  I was just beginning to second guess my decision.  I said again, "I love you."  It was almost like it was her cue.  She vomited again.  She wanted me to let go.  She was giving me a sign.
We all said our goodbyes, Chris, Dad, Lady.
Mom and I drove her to the clinic.
She laid in her little bed.  I held her head. 
She was so calm.  She knew what was happening.
She went calmly.   I held her the entire time.
We buried her down by the pond.  In a beautiful spot.

Two weeks later I adopted Ruby.
The very scared little basset beagle mix captured my heart.  All the workers assured me that she just needed to get out of the shelter and she'd be fine.  So I adopted her.
She did not get along well with Lady.  The workers told me that if I gave her a week and she still was not accepting Lady, I woudl be able to bring her back for a full refund.  At the end of the week it was not going well still, but I coudln't bring myself to take her back.  My wonderful mother agreed to take her.
She bought her a new bed, collar, leash, food, treats, bowls, toys, everything.
Mom got her home and she got her in the house, fully ready to love the scared right out of this little dog.
She opened the front door to grab the dog food off the porch and that was it.  Ruby bolted.
My parents live in the middle of farm country.  We weren't worried.  She'd come back.
I drove up as soon as mom called to tell me what happened.  By the tiem Chris, Lady,a nd I got up there she was long gone, but we tramped through cornfields and down the road for hours.
Three days later they found her body in the middle of the highway six miles away.  They buried her in a beautiful spot, too.
On July 18 I got Bentley.  He has been the perfect puppy, as calm as can be.  By far the easiest puppy.  He has brought joy to my life again.  He is the happy ending to this terrible terrible year of loss and sorrow.
Oh yeah, and Lady had TPLO surgery in August for her torn ACL.  Followed by 16 weeks of crate rest.  Talk about hell.
One of my aunt's beloved Rottweilers, Kuffs, died in November at the young age of 8.  Cancer.
But now, the day before New Year's Eve, Lady is free from her crate.  We walk an hour a day.  Bentley has passed puppy obedience and is taking beginning obedience in january, canine good citizen class in april, and will hopefully be Delta certified as a therapy dog in June.
He was born on May 31.  Just 6 days after Squeak passed.
I know this has been a long, weepy, depressing post.  But it has been a long, weepy, depressing year.
2011 has to be better, because, frankly, 2010 was the worst. 
To the New Year.  To Happiness.  To Comfort.  To Hope.

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