My Fire Hydrant

Tyler had surgery on Thursday. His anal glands were removed.

Tyler with his e-collar "donut"

Tyler has been on and off antibiotics for the past several months because his anal glands keep getting infected. To treat this, our dogtor has to pack the glands with antibiotic ointment. This treatment is not without dangers–for instance, the possibility of tearing the gland opening when the ointment is inserted. So after much discussion and thought, we decided the best thing for Tyler is to remove the glands.

So, he had laser surgery on Thursday and now has 6 tiny stitches around his butt. And his butt had to be shaved. You know those baboons that have the really pink butts? Tyler’s butt looks remarkably like a baboon butt!

Tyler's favorite place to lay--on my chest!

I’ve spent the past 3 days  (I took Friday off from work) coddling and petting and stroking him. And he’s milked it for all it’s worth. I know he’s milking it because one of our neighbors was over last night and Tyler was totally his normal stinker self, until she left. Then he reverted back to this needy little sorrowful soul who had to be held and loved on. I’m cutting him some slack, though, because I know the stitches are uncomfortable (even though he’s on pain meds) and the fact that his butt is hairless has got to be freaky-feeling.

He’s been in an e-collar, until today, to keep him from chewing on his butt. When I found out he would have surgery, I purchased an e-collar that looks a lot like an inflatable life-preserver. It fits around his neck and keeps him from bending his neck to get to his butt. I even had time to get him used to it before the surgery. I took it off him today–and I know he’s happier without it. But that’s meant I’ve had to watch him like a hawk so that he doesn’t chew on his stitches.

So all the regular household stuff I wanted to get done this weekend has not happened. But at least my dog is happy. Well mostly happy. He’s not going to be totally happy until his hair grows back and his butt is no longer bare. Sucks to have baboon butt.

I look back now and realize that Bailey’s illness didn’t happen overnight. It’s been going on since before Thanksgiving.

On a normal evening, I’d lay down on the couch and read or watch TV or whatever and Bailey would always cuddle up with me. But several weeks ago her cuddle positioning changed. Though she tried to lay as she normally would, she could not seem to get comfortable and so would move to the end of the coach in a kind of a frustrated huff. A couple of times she even gave a very soft yelp, as if she hurt herself.

This also happened at bedtime. We had a routine–I’d put a couple of kibbles under her pillow, and after she ate them she would crawl under the covers, cuddle for a while, and then move back up to her pillow. But her cuddle position changed, again as if she couldn’t get comfy.

This never struck me as something major–in fact, I’m not even sure I conciously thought about it until Thursday night.

Watching her on Thursday, I realized that all week I had been seeing her gait degenerate, especially her back legs. As she walked, her butt was swaying left-and-right and her back legs seemed to swing outward and away from her body instead of just back-and-forth.

Over the week, her squats when she pottied had become more-and-more clumsy till she finally just wouldn’t squat anymore. By Wednesday I would carry her outside, she would look like she couldn’t figure out what to do, and then walk back to the door to be let in. Twice her bladder released its load just as we got inside the door. I know now she could no longer squat.

I gave up trying to get her outside to potty. I kept her gated in my room/office. She was welcome to pee on my carpet.  And for once she made no objection to being barred in the room. In fact, she didn’t seem to want to leave her bed. When she looked up at me, it was like she didn’t see me, as if she were in her own world. It might have been the drugs–I kept her pumped with pain meds–but I don’t think so. I’m not sure the pain meds were taking care of all her pain.

Thursday evening I again brought her out to the sofa to join us. The prior evenings she seemed to notice we were there and every time I got up she kept track of where I was. This time she had no interest. And she could not get comfortable. I finally carried her back into her bed in my bedroom.

And I started thinking about the times when she seemed to be experiencing what I thought was arthritis pains, and the light bulb went on–we’d been looking in the wrong places. The problem was in the area around her back legs. Over the past week, it was her hind end that had gotten progressively weaker and troubling.

I left her in her own bed. During the night I heard her get up and lay on the carpet. Around 3 she shifted again and I realized she had again had an involuntary bladder release while she slept. By 6 AM I think I had made the decision. I gathered her up, put her on my bed and lay down beside her to tell her it would soon be over. She allowed this to go on for maybe 10 minutes and then indicated that she wanted down. Up until Thursday she made an attempt to indulge my cuddles. Now she wanted none of it.

For the third morning, I called Dr. B to speak with her before her appointments started. I told her about my theory about Bailey’s hind end. She agreed that it made sense and we both wondered if perhaps the cancer was back.

Doing x-rays of the area would cause her needless pain because of the way her body would have to be twisted (we had been forced to do this a couple years ago and I had promised myself I would never put her through that again). Even if we did discover it was the cancer, we had already made the decision of no chemo/surgery.

And now that I knew where to look I could see that with all the treatments we had tried over the week there was no progress, only degeneration in her condition. She was not responding. She was in pain. So we made an appointment for the big sleep.

For the 3rd morning, Bailey was coaxed into her Sherpa bag and my mom and I drove to the clinic. We were met at the door by one of the techs and taken to an exam room. We talked through what was going to happen–all of us in tears. Bailey’s groomer, Aunt T came in to say goodbye. My little pooch touched so many hearts at the clinic! They took her back to the hospital area and put a catheter into the vein in her leg, then brought her back to us. My mom and I had spread one of Bailey’s blankets out on the table. Dr. B joined us. We said our goodbyes to her and as Dr. B gave her the final injection through the catheter she so peacefully hid her head in the folds of the blanket just like she used to do when we would go to bed at night. Eventually, Dr. B wrapped her in another blanket and took her away. She really looked like she was just having a good sleep.

As we left, we were hugged by the receptionists. Later that day I heard from Dr. T–he was not at the clinic on Friday, but her had called in for something and they told him that Bailey was gone. Friday evening T (Bailey’s groomer) called us to see how we were doing. She told me that everyone at the clinic was affected by Bailey’s passing. They are such wonderful people and took such good care of my girl.

So many people–friends, family, co-workers, neighbors–have reached out to me with kindness. It warms me to think that Bailey had such a large group of friends and fans, and I am so grateful for the thoughts and prayers that you all have shared. Thank you so much.

I look at her bed that still holds the indentation of where she lay only 48 hours ago, and I feel the empty loneliness of her absence. I miss her so much.

A step forward, and a step back.

She’s vomiting more often. Last night when we went to bed, and again around 3 AM. Three times this morning. It’s nearly all water, cause she hasn’t eaten since 6 PM last night. She is again refusing food.

Just got back from the vet where we did a repeat of yesterday–fluids under the skin, blood glucose check, buprenorphin, famotidine, metoclopramide.  I came home with 2 syringes of buprenorphine (for pain), and 1 of  metoclopramide (for the vomiting).

We (Bailey, me, and Dr. B) are back on the path that may end at the bridge. It depends on how she responds over the next 24 hours.

She slept pretty deeply overnight. Woke me around 3 am with a little vomiting, then at 6 am with a request to be set on the floor so she could get a drink. It’s been 2 and a half days since she ate–but Dr. B says that’s not a huge concern. As I watch her, I am more firmly convinced that her tummy is upset and she’s in some pain in her backend.

When I sat down at my desk today, she sat at my feet and kept looking at me and at her bed under the desk. She did not move to get into her bed, just gave me that “I’m miserable” look. Her bed is a nice orthopedic one–I got it specifically because of her tendency towards arthritis and back pain, from a mail order catalogue that claims veterinary expertise. But here’s the oxymoron: The bottom cushion of the bed is very thick, which means that any dog using the bed has to make a “jump” to get into it. The bed is marketed for dogs with arthritis issues. Wouldn’t you think that the creators of the bed would have thought about the fact that it might be painful for a dog with arthritis to “jump” into a bed?

So, I’ve removed her bed and put a couple of bed cushions under my desk. She was very happy with that, and seemed almost eager to curl up. Just goes to show you: Who needs the expensive new-fangled orthopedic stuff when you got 2 bed cushions?

Around 10:30 we made a trip to the clinic. More anti-nausea/anti-acid shots plus something for pain. And sub q fluids. When we got home, she vomited more water. It was like someone had hooked a hose up to her other end and the water spewed out. She looked surprised.

Still not eating. And we still don’t know for sure what the heck is causing her to be sick.

Not much change.

At lunch today we made another quick trip to the vet so that Bailey could get an injection for nausea. But she’s still not eating. She slept all day under my desk, then all evening next to me on the sofa. I wonder if she got any rest at all while she was hospitalized–Dr. B told me she’s not a good candidate for hospitalization. I have to smile about that–Bailey and I are so bonded I think that’s one of the reasons I argued against hospitalization in the first place. Dr. T told me that each time they tried to put food down for her she tried to wiggle out the cage door. And she was very noisy as they got ready for today’s surgeries–she wanted to go home! As tired as she was, she followed me around today–from the office, to the kitchen, to the bathroom, back to the office. She was frugal in her steps, but she kept me in her sight.

So now it’s bed time. I’m not going to bring her up on the bed with me unless she asks. I figure, if I leave her on the floor to sleep in her own bed she can get to the water easier. And right now she seems content to sleep in her own bed. I normally turn the heat down at night, but I’m gonna leave it up tonight. I HATE sleeping in a warm bedroom, but I worry about Bailey being warm enough.

Probably doesn’t matter because I doubt if I’m gonna get much sleep.

B.R. Vet Clinic called me this morning: come pick up Bailey, she’s making too much noise.

I guess Bailey was being very vocal about wanting to get out of the hospital cage she was in. Dr. T told me that they had to drape a towel over the door to the cage to try and keep her quiet. This is a good sign because yesterday she simply lay in the cage and watched the world go by. Today, she was ready to leave and letting everyone know.

She still hasn’t eaten anything.

I’ve been trying to get her to eat–canned food, biscuits, hamburger, pieces of my toast–she’s just not interested. She’s drinking water–though not at the rate she was drinking before–but I guess that’s a good sign. The last time she ate was Sunday around 6 pm. She looks at me and her eyes say, “Of course you know what it is that I need! Why won’t you give it to me??”  Only I’m just a stupid human and I can’t figure it out. ARGH!! I HATE THIS!!!

So she’s home now. But she’s still not well. And I’m still a basket-case.

I just finished speaking with Dr. T. He says that Bailey is “acting brighter” and “vocalizing more” and that she’s reacting well to treatment. This is good news! She hasn’t eaten anything yet–but I’m not surprised. She has always been reluctant to take biscuits at the vet. Dr. T will turn her care over to her usual dogtor, Dr. B, tomorrow and hopefully Bailey will come home. But she needs to start eating again. I’ll check in again with them this evening.

I counted it up: This will be only the 7th night that Bailey and I will have spent apart in nearly 14 years. I’m not sure if that’s a sad commentary on my personal life or acclaim to the human-animal bond.

First, let me say thank you for those of you who have left comments of support and those of you I’ve talked with. We all love our furbabies, and your kind words are treasured.

I hospitalized Bailey this morning.

Yesterday morning she had to be coaxed to eat her biscuits. She flat-out refused the MiniChunks. In the afternoon I noticed a slight change in her behavior. She was a little more confused than normal (she’s almost 14 and I’ve noticed signs of canine dementia for quite a while).  And she totally lost interest in her biscuits. We made her some lean hamburger for supper–she reluctantly ate it. By bedtime she only took a couple of laps of water. She didn’t wake me during the night to get her off the bed for a drink and potty–I woke her at 4 AM–she very reluctantly went out to potty and had absolutely no interest in water. I knew then that it was time.

So at 7 I got up and got dressed–normally Bailey would have moved from her pillow at the head of the bed to the foot of the bed in prep to getting down, but not today. She refused water, food, and she wouldn’t go out to potty. I called the clinic–both Dr. B (our usual dogtor) and Dr. C (our stand-in from Friday) are off today, but good fortune smiled because Dr. T was in. I used to work with Dr. T, so I knew we would be in very caring hands.

The folks who work at the BR clinic are so wonderful! The 2 receptionists were so caring and empathetic as we waited to see the vet tech. They made a point of coming out from behind the counter and giving Bailey a scratch and me a pat. They are such lovely people.

We met first with the vet tech who got Bailey’s vitals. Dr. T was actually scheduled for surgery–but he was able to put it off so he could meet with us first. He did a very thorough exam, asked me lots of questions, looked over Bailey’s records, and took lots of notes. He also did x rays of her lungs and her liver.

The lung xray was to make sure that there was no cancer in her lungs. They’re clear.

The liver x ray was to see if we could get any hint of what might be happening. Her liver is enlarged, but Dr. T also had an x ray of her liver from a year ago and her liver was enlarged then, too. So no significant change in the size of her liver over the past year. He also looked at her blood-work–again, we had the same panels from last year and there’s no significant change.

He called Bailey “our little enigma.” He said that between the blood-work and the x rays he cannot find a reason for her symptoms and maybe we’re looking at a combination of things. Some of the older dogs he treats have lately had more problems with arthritis because our weather has been so cold. Also, he confirmed something that my friend from work Dr. Amy said to me yesterday: Sometimes older dogs who have symptoms like this simply need some fluid support to snap out of it. I’ll call him later this afternoon to see how she’s doing.

One thing I know for certain: we will not do any “heroic” measures to prolong Bailey’s life. I will not put her through invasive surgery or chemo. Her comfort is my paramount concern–and I will not consent to causing her pain just so I can have her companionship for a few extra months. This is a decision I made 4 years ago when we discussed putting her through chemo and radiation. And please understand, what’s right for me and Bailey is not what I consider right for every pet owner. We each make our own decisions based on our own experiences and knowledge of our pets.

I will probably have the dogtors take care of the bad tooth that Dr. C found on Friday–but I need more information about it before I make a decision.

So Bailey is now in hospital, and I miss her like crazy. The house seems empty without her here. But I still feel confident that I’ve made the right decisions. Keeping her home over the weekend allowed her to rest comfortably, and made me feel better too. But today her condition is beyond my skill and she needs the help of professionals. I’m going to do my best to keep thinking positive and hang on the idea that many dogs snap out of these symptoms after fluid support at the vet’s.

But, oh Dog! the house is so quiet.

Well, we’re pretty certain it’s not cancer.

I have that kind of headache that you get with crying.

Dr. C called a little while ago. Her calcium levels are normal (that’s what makes us think it’s not the cancer), her white/red blood cells all normal and blood count good, thyroid normal, her pancreas is good. Even though her bilirubin and albumin are normal, other liver values indicate that there’s something going wrong with her liver. In his words, “Her liver is not pulling its weight.”

His counsel:

• Hospitalize her today
• See a specialist early next week for an ultrasound and a liver biopsy

I pushed back on the hospitalization, and I’m still trying to figure out if I’m being selfish or doing what’s best for my dog.

Bailey and I are very bonded. This has really become apparent during the times I have had to travel in the past year and leave her at home. In nearly 14 years I think I can count on one hand the nights we’ve spent apart. I cannot tolarate the thought of her all alone, in a cage at the vet’s. I KNOW the folks at my vet clinic would take real good care of her–I’ve seen them in action. But they’re not there 24/7. And they close for the weekend today at 1–so it’s not like there would be regular office hours tomorrow. The other option is the emergency vet down the road from my vet. They’re there 24/7 but I have no experience of their work and I am reluctant to leave Bailey in their hands for the next 2 days.

Dr. C says the reasons to hospitalize is so that she can have some support in hydration and electrolytes. But he didn’t work too hard to try and talk me out of keeping her home this weekend. So, as long as she’s willing to eat (anything!), as long as she’s drinking water (and I’m pushing her on that), as long as she’s acting “normal” and not vomiting we’re fine. If she totally refuses to eat anything and/or starts vomiting I will take her to the emergency clinic for hospitalization.

So now we’re again in waiting mode. Dr. C will contact the local canine liver specialist on Monday and arrange for Bailey to have an ultrasound and probably a liver biopsy. She’s an old girl–nearly 14. I have got to do my best to make my upcoming decisions based on her quality of life and not my own selfish needs.

I wish I could stop crying.

We’re waiting.

Bailey has stopped eating. In my heart, I’m certain it’s the food. But remember where I work (Consumer Relation, Iams). My head knows it’s NOT the food.

Our usual routine has been topsy-turvey because of the holidays–I’ve taken some massive vacation time and our usual day of get up/dressed, walk the pooch, feed the pooch, sit at my desk and work with pooch in bed under desk, has been totally disrupted. And Bailey has been annoyed because of this disruption. Nearly every morning of my vacation, as we finish up the dress/walk/feed chores that never change, she stands in the hall outside my office, looks at me and says, “Time for work, aren’t you coming to your desk?” And when I go in a different direction she gets this confused and then annoyed look because I’m deviating from the routine. So when she started to skip a meal here-and-there I put it down to the upheaval in our routine.

Looks like I was probably wrong.

I’ve mentioned before that I feed Bailey 4 times a day. Tuesday night, she refused to eat at her last feeding of the day. Wednesday, she would only eat lunch and supper. Thursday, she refused to eat all 4 meals.

Now the thing that has made me crazy is that she’ll eat her biscuits, or a handful of MiniChunks (which I happened to have on hand) or scraps from the table (yes, I know, bad mom) no problem. So I thought “There’s nothing wrong–she’ll eat other stuff, just not her regular meal. There must be something wrong with the food.”

My head knows it’s not the food.

Remember, Bailey is diabetic. She was due for a check on her blood sugar, so I took her to our favorite clinic on Wednesday and a wonderful vet tech pulled some blood. Her blood sugar was at 213–which is good.

Then Thursday she totally would not eat her regular meals. And each time I offered it she looked at me like I was missing some kind of crucial ceremony that would allow her to eat. Her eyes said if only I would say the magic words or do the magic hand wave she would be able to eat the food I was placing before her. But obviously I was too head-stupid to figure out what the magic charm was that would allow her to eat, so she sadly ducked her head and walked away from the bowl.

I still thought this was part of the routine-disruption. Eventually she would be hungry enough to eat.

I didn’t give her her shot on Thursday evening–I didn’t want her blood sugar to bottom out because that can be life-threatening. For the short-term it would be far less harmful if her blood sugar was slightly elevated.

During the night on Thursday she woke me 4 times so that I could lift her off the bed so she could drink water. And twice insisted that she needed to go out to the patio to pee (she seems to be on strike against the pee pad). I kinda expected this–after all when her blood sugar level is high she gets thirsty. I did not get much sleep.

One of the advantages of working where I do is I have access to a team of veterinarians who are never too busy to discuss Bailey’s health. Friday morning I talked the situation over with two of my best buds–Dr. Dicke and Jen-the-vet-tech. They both agreed it was time to call my vet.

My vet was in emergency surgery, so I left a long voice mail for her. Before noon she called me–she had a family commitment and was about to leave for the day, but she felt I should bring Bailey in today rather than wait till she was next in on Monday so she had made arrangements for us to see her colleague, Dr. C. at 2. I was very comfortable with this because we’ve seen Dr. C. in the past (though it was several years ago), and he’s very nice and very smart.

After I told him our story, he did a full exam on Bailey. And found that she has an infected tooth. (I am a bad mom).

The tooth didn’t seem to be painful (yet). He didn’t want to rule it out, but he also didn’t want to jump to the conclusion that the tooth was the problem. So blood tests were needed. It could be a bladder infection (she has a history), or her liver or her thyroid or her pancreas. Or it could be that the cancer is back. Blood tests will give us better indications.

In the meanwhile he prescribed clavamox (an antibiotic) which will help with the tooth and also the possible bladder infection. And he will phone me before noon tomorrow (today? I think it’s after midnight) to let me know the lab results on her blood.

And so, we wait.