Our dogs become so much a part of our family that it is so hard when it's time to say goodbye.
I never would have dreamed ten months ago I would be mourning yet another family dog. It has been a rough year with our pets this year.
Last September, our nine month old Great Pyrenees Gracie, suddenly became ill. We took her to our veterinarian and found out she needed a blood transfusion. This had to be done at Wichita so we loaded her up and took her.
Three days and unspeakable dollars worth of tests later, we brought her home without an answer as to why her body was no longer making red blood cells. I still had high hopes that she would recover since she was feeling better because of the two transfusions she had had. The first day she felt great and was acting like the playful puppy she was supposed to be. But already by the next day, I could see her becoming weaker. More visits to the vet revealed she was still not making any red blood cells and she was losing them at a rapid rate. They assured me she was not suffering, so I brought her home, still hoping her body would kick in and do what it was supposed to, but as the week went on I knew she would not make it and still we had no answer. That is not supposed to happen to nine-month old puppies.
Losing Gracie didn’t leave us dog-less, we still had our shop-dog Shadow and our little house dog Murphy, a Chihuahua/Jack Russell-Terrier mix.
We rescued Murphy from the dog pound five years ago and he was the perfect fit for us. He became part of the family immediately and I cannot honestly think of one thing he did that annoyed us. We often said we both hit the lottery the day we decided to go take a look at the Wichita Humane Society just for the fun of it.
We hit the jackpot for finding such a great little dog and Murphy hit the jackpot because he became a very loved and spoiled little dog. He soon found his way onto our bed at night and he went with us everywhere we went. When we took the infrequent overnight trip I found myself calling ahead to see if pets were allowed.
We were told Murphy was about five years old when we got him, so that put him somewhere around ten years old. We knew little dogs lived much longer than bigger dogs so we figured we would have him for many more years.
But that was not to be our reality. Just in the last two weeks Murphy started not feeling well. We took him to the vet and like all “kids,” once he was at the doctors, he started acting better, no fever, no parasites etc. so we brought him back home expecting him to bounce back to his old self.
No such luck, he got worse everyday. When Monday came we took him back and eventually it was decided he would have surgery for what we thought was a partial intestinal blockage due to his eating some cherry pits right before he started feeling bad.
I fully expected to have our little bundle-of-energy back with us in a few days. But when the phone rang at 8:30 this morning, the news was not good, it was an inoperable stomach tumor.
We had already discussed what we would do if they got in there and realized it was something that could not be fixed and I gave them the final okay to not wake him up.
Like I said, this has been a rough year for pets around our house, but people like Dr. Spitzer and the others who work at Hi-Plains veterinary clinic help soften the blow and we so much appreciate their kindness.