Shadow

 Shadow

I haven't blogged in a long time, but something happened yesterday that I really feel the need to write about. I was too emotional to write about it yesterday, but I am going to give it a shot tonight. Many of you know that our dog, Shadow, has been sick for a few months. He got what we thought were hot spots, but they just wouldn't heal. We tried antibiotics, steroids, grain free food, topical wound treatments, thyroid medicine, more antibiotics, and more steroids. Nothing was working, and the vets couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. He would go in waves as far as his energy and interaction levels, but never lost his appetite. It was hard to watch him go through this, and so frustrating to not know what it was or what caused it.

On Wednesday I went downstairs to feed him, and he didn't greet me at the door. I brought his food to him, but still nothing. I got him to eat some string cheese so I could give him his medications, but he wouldn't eat anything else. He was just laying there and moaning every once in a while. I heard him start yelping, so I went to see what was going on. Even though his 5 gallon water bucket was only four feet away, he couldn't get up to get to it. For the rest of the morning, I would bring him drinks of water in a small Tupperware container.

He had an appointment at 1:00 at the vet, so at about 12:15 I got the truck situated next tot he hill, so he could get in easier. Then I went to get him. He hadn't moved. I tried to lift him to help him stand. Nothing. Evan tried making a string cheese trail to the door. Nothing. He just looked up at me with his big eyes. As, I called the vet and shared the situation with him. He said he was willing to make a house call and would be there in 30 minutes or so.

The doc took his temperature, and he was running a low fever. Then he gave him a shot of penicillin in each shoulder and called in a prescription for more antibiotics. We were supposed to call him if he hadn't improved by the next day.

By eight that evening, he couldn't be left alone. He started making these horrible choking, yelping, gagging noises every time he was left alone. As soon as we would open the door, they stopped. But, his breathing was ragged and he could not get comfortable. He still hadn't stood up, which means he hadn't gone to the bathroom all day.

When Ben got home he was able to get Shadow to eat some canned dog food, but nothing else had improved. Ben was up with him all through the night, but by six in the morning, we knew we were going to have to make the hard decision. Ben called the vet to update him, and he agreed that it was time to let him go.

When Evan woke up, we told him that we were going to take Shadow to the vet, but that he wouldn't be coming home again. In a very round about conversation, he eventually understood that Shadow was going to die because the vet was going to give him something to ease his pain. Evan wanted to go downstairs and spend time with Shadow.

Even as we are all sitting there crying, Shadow was struggling to turn himself around to face us. He was trying to make sure we were okay. He did this whenever someone was hurt or crying. He often knew when we needed comforting before we did.

We had to wait until nine, and then it took both of us to lift him on to a blanket and carry him to the car. I sat there in the vet's office for over an hour waiting for the technician, and Shadow could not get comfortable. As soon as the receptionist came in to tell us it was going to be another half hour or so, he magically found a comfortable position and fell asleep.

About twenty minutes later, I sat up and realized that I had a bloody nose. Literally seconds later, the technician walked in and asked if I was ready. I thought maybe the bloody nose and the fact that Shadow was resting so peacefully was a sign that I should just take him home and wait it out. But then I looked down at him, and his back full of sores, and knew that I was only thinking that because I wanted it to be true.

She returned, and I held his head while she administered the shot. It was quick, and within seconds his heart stopped beating, his eyes closed, his breathing stopped, and he was no longer in pain. I haven't cried that hard in a long time. Within seconds, Ben called. The timing was amazing, as if he somehow felt what had just happened. I couldn't talk through my tears, but he knew. It was a horrible feeling leaving him there on the floor. It took every ounce of strength to walk out of that office yesterday.

All day yesterday and today I kept thinking that I heard him downstairs, or up on the deck. Evan and I were playing ball in the yard, and I kept waiting for him to poke his head around the corner, letting us know he wants to join us. I know eventually this pain will go away, and that I will always have the ten years of fabulous memories we made together, but that does not help with this ache I have in my heart today. He was a part of our family, and he will be missed.