Denial is a River in Egypt

Our first walk in Stanley Park

It didn't sink in that I had adopted a senior dog for quite some time. Lilith was able to walk for two hours without slowing down until well into her fifteenth year. I have friends who can't do that! I took her to see a vet because she hadn't had a check-up in a while, and he told me that she had a heart murmur. Still, I didn't think much of it because she had plenty of energy and was so full of life. It wasn't until almost two years after I adopted her, when she began having mobility issues, that I started to think of her as an elderly dog.

These days, she has kidney disease and arthritis, but both conditions are under control. The kidney disease will eventually get worse, and one day, her body will stop functioning. I avoided that inevitable fact for a long time. Adopting Lilith was definitely a good decision, and I've never regretted it. I didn't regret it when she peed on the floor that time, I didn't regret it when I decided to temporarily stop travelling, and I didn't regret it when I had to fork out several hundred dollars at the vet last week. I won't regret it when she dies either, no matter how much it will hurt (and it will; that much I can't deny). I can't explain how much joy and love Lilith brings to my life. She is the canine embodiment of pure, undiluted love, and she makes me a better person.

During an 8 km walk when she was 15

Homecoming queen

Lilith on her first night with us

The anniversary of Lilith's adoption is just around the corner, so I'll tell you how it all unfolded. My parents adopted Lilith when she was five years old. To make a long story short, after my dad died and my mom became seriously ill, Ophelia and I moved back home to help out, and we stayed for over two years. Eventually, my mom became terminally ill and moved into a hospice, so the question of what to do with her pets arose.

I usually think things through in great detail, but this time I thought with my heart. I decided to adopt Lilith, even if it meant that I might have to move (dogs weren't really allowed in my old place). Lilith was already fourteen, and I didn't think she'd stand a chance at the SPCA. Besides, I had lived with her for a couple of years and known her for nearly a decade. I loved that little furball, and if I may say so, the feeling was mutual. How could I not take her? I had already taken over the bulk of responsibility for her care since my mom got sick, so I felt that I couldn't let her down. Just because a dog isn't a puppy doesn't mean they don't have a lot to offer, so that's how I came to adopt a senior dog...in a nutshell.

Must love dogs...and cats :-)

·         I have recently moved into a pet friendly building, a veritable haven of fur and feathers! I'm still in shock at how quickly I found this apartment, considering how challenging it can be to move when you have pets. 

    Here's the story:  

    One morning in February, I woke up, took Lil out to pee, and opened the silverware drawer to get a knife so I could cut up some fruit for breakfast. I quickly lost my appetite when I saw what was in the drawer though. It was mouse pooh, and it was gross. I am soooooo not a fan of rodents. Ophelia has always preferred tofu to meat products, but she protected me against the rodent invasion quite effectively, if you know what I mean. Still, the situation was not palatable to me, so I made the decision to move. I consulted the Oracle of Craigslist, and clicked on the boxes that said “dog” and “cat”. Suddenly, a gazillion listings became 5, 3 of which were obvious scams. I called the first of the two remaining numbers immediately and went to go look at it. I wasn’t that impressed though, so I called the second number and went to see what is now my apartment. I loved the building instantly. How could I not? It’s blatantly pet friendly, and you can meet a dog or two on any given elevator ride. It’s great! 

During the tour, they didn’t show me the doggie spa though. I found that one just the other day, and was pleasantly surprised. There’s a grooming table and a wash basin, and even a blow dryer, and it’s conveniently located next to the courtyard, where dogs are encouraged to romp around happily. All this AND we live right by the seawall! Jackpot!!! I may not ever use the doggie spa facilities simply because I groom princess O on the throne, and Lil on my lap, but it makes me feel good to know that pets are valued and respected here.

I never understood why so many landlords refuse to allow pets, but I grew up sharing my bed with a dog, so I guess I’m biased. I’m so glad I found this place. The girls and I are happy to live here.

Should have gone to law school...

I took Lilith to the vet for a recheck on Sunday. Rechecks are free, thankfully. I don't quite understand how I walked out of there having spent $192. I guess it could have something to do with the food I bought for the girls now that they're both on a special diet for their kidneys, and the cartrophen injection for Lilith (since she refuses to eat when I put tramadol in her food), or maybe it was the chewable blood pressure pill for Ophelia, which is intended to take some of the pressure off of her kidneys.

The vet told me that Ophelia is due for a blood test in June, and my heart sank. I knew that caring for senior pets could be costly, but I've spent nearly $800 in two weeks! I simply can't keep this up for much longer. I'm a teacher, after all, and my profession is not exactly known for being properly remunerated. Somehow we've always managed, but the bottom line is that Ophelia won't be having a blood test in June. I feel terrible about it, but I've already dipped into my "pay rent over the summer" fund, and after June ends, I won't see a paycheque until mid-September. I guess it's time to pack my bags because I'm going on a guilt trip.

Lilith and my niece

Some days it feels like caring for a senior pet is a full time job, but it doesn't pay very well. I want so much to be the best friend I can be to my pets, but they're going to miss out on medical monitoring and whatnot. No matter how many times I tell myself that I'm doing the best I can, I still feel terrible about that. Lilith and Ophelia have been unfailingly loyal to me and mine as long as I've known them. They deserve the best care possible. I just hope that what they're getting is enough. I can't kick myself for not having pet insurance, but I totally see the merits of it.

Anyway, there's no sense dwelling on lack. I'm going to have to trust that I'll always be able to meet the girls' needs. In the meantime, it's time for us to go to bed. I have to work tomorrow. Someone's got to keep the girls in the luxurious manner to which they are accustomed.

Ophelia patiently tolerating a cuddle from my niece

Staycationing with the Girls

Lilith and Ophelia have a collection of wonderful uncles in their lives. My friends have been incredibly helpful to me. I am a single, working pet parent, and although I am able to bring the bulk of my work home with me, sometimes I need to stay at school late for meetings or other events. I work an hour’s drive from home, so I have a friend who lets Lil out for me and feeds her on such days. (Ophelia has access to food and toilet facilities all day long, in case you were wondering). I would be lost without this kind of help. As my pets have gotten older and more high maintenance, I have come to a decision. I will not travel for the remainder of their lives. I'm on Spring Break right now, and therefore, we are enjoying a staycation.

This was a tough decision to make because I have vacationed regularly throughout my time as a pet parent, and I loooooove to travel. I just returned from a trip to visit family back East and scuba dive in the Bahamas this past August. It was a wonderful trip, but I worried about the girls more than I used to. Now, both of them have been diagnosed with kidney disease and have special diets. I think you need to have a degree in chemistry to feed Lil. Here's a glimpse of just what I mean when I say that: kidney-friendly food mixed with a teaspoon of cod liver oil (afternoon only), a chewable glucosamine tablet (morning only), a recovery tablet (morning only), ¼ teaspoon of turmeric, one grind of pepper, a small piece of homemade liver fudge broken into tiny pieces, and 0.15 ml of arthritis medication mixed with peanut butter to kill the taste and then smeared on her food…and you have to ensure that she eats all the peanut butter so that she’s ingested the full dosage…and you have to feed her twice a day...and you have to be nearby because she won't eat if you're in the other room...and she goes on a hunger strike for about 3 days when I'm not around...and sometimes it takes her an hour to eat. Ophelia’s diet is low maintenance in comparison (kidney-friendly wet food twice a day with two glucosamine treats and 4 greenies at night), but you get the idea. It’s a lot to ask of someone, especially when that person already has a job. Oh, and did I mention that Lil sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night to pee? Yup, I often have to take her out in the wee hours of the morning. That’s also a lot to ask of someone. Lil doesn’t like other people pushing her in her stroller, so she has a tendency to try to jump out of it when I’m not the one pushing it. That is beyond dangerous, so you have to hold her harness while pushing the buggy, which is also a lot to ask of someone.And lately, Lil's developed a tendency not to pee before bed, so I've dealt with that problem by chugging a litre of water so that I'll wake up (I wasn't kidding about the walnut bladder, but in this case, it comes in handy). I could go on, but you get the idea. For us, these changes were gradual, so I've had time to get used to them. However, I'm well aware that we are high maintenance in this household, and don't wish to subject my friends or anyone else to such an overwhelming situation.

Oh, and let’s not forget the obvious. My pets are old. Ophelia is the equivalent of 72 human years, and Lilith is 92 according to the chart on the vet’s wall. Sometimes Lil takes a nap and doesn’t move, and I find myself checking to see if her ribs are expanding as she breathes. It’s a lot to ask of someone to look after them when it’s possible that they may die. My friends worry about that possibility, and although they would help me if I needed to go away for family reasons or something, I won’t travel by choice at this stage. I won’t use a professional pet sitter either. I have in the past, but at this point, I don’t want to stress the girls out unnecessarily by subjecting them to a stranger. Besides, my friends are more knowledgeable about their daily care and health issues than any stranger would ever be, and if I wouldn’t leave them with my friends, why on earth would I leave them with a stranger? Thank goodness I love where I live. It makes staycationing easy to take.

To Pee or Not to Pee, that is the Question

I recently took Lilith to the vet to get her some arthritis medication. After three days of trying to slip it into her food semi-successfully, I started to notice that she wasn't going to the bathroom. In fact, she was holding her pee for up to 19 hours! That's a foreign concept to me because I have a bladder the size of a walnut, I swear. Shiba Inus are known for their ability to hold it for long periods of time. That's part of what makes them such an ideal apartment dwelling dog. Still, I was worried because that's a looooooooong time, even for a Shiba, and it could be a sign of kidney failure. I stopped giving her the medication, and called the vet to ask if her bladder retention issues could have anything to do with the meds, just in case. He said no, but my intuition told me to keep her off the meds for a couple of days to see if her pee schedule went back to normal. It did, thankfully. So now it appears that we're back to square one with the arthritis meds, even though the vet says they probably aren't the cause of the pee problem. Maybe I'll opt for weekly injections and see if the fountain continues to flow freely. Stay tuned...

The Importance of a Good Vet

·         When I go to see my doctor, there is usually no shortage of older people in the waiting room. When the body ages, it requires more medical attention, and the same holds true for pets, as I am discovering. I wish I had pet insurance. I adopted Ophelia was I was 19, so couldn’t really afford it, and Lilith was already 14 when I adopted her, so she wasn’t eligible. There’s no sense crying over spilled milk though, I suppose. The point I’m trying to make is that we’ve been to the vet more often in the past year than for both pets combined during the previous decade, so I would just like to emphasize the importance of having the right vet for your family.

In my case, I have a tendency to turn into a blubbering mess when my pets are ailing, so I need a vet capable of keeping me calm and explaining things to me in great detail so that I don’t feel like I have to research the situation myself (you know how when you google things you can really freak yourself out…I’m totally guilty of doing that, but if the vet tells me how it is, I don’t feel compelled to bother, thus I spare myself a lot of grief). Luckily, I found the right vet for us. He’s not in our neighbourhood, but it’s worth the 15 minute drive, even with Ophelia’s operatic yowling and Lil’s guilt-inducing whimpering. I travel for 30 minutes to see my doctor, and an hour to see my dentist. Good health care is worth it to me, so the idea of taking my pets to a more local vet just for convenience is preposterous. 

Here's an example of the WRONG vet: 

Shortly after I decided to become Lil’s main human, I took her to the vet for a check up. He told me that Lil needed her teeth cleaned and that I should have her put under general anaesthetic for the procedure. I looked at him and said “You want me to put my 14 year old dog with a heart murmur under anaesthetic? You have GOT to be kidding me.” Now I know my dog has dental issues. My mom didn’t brush her teeth because Lil wouldn't hold still for her, and when my mom began to get sick, she stopped taking Lil to the vet for regular teeth cleanings because of the expense. As a result, Lil’s teeth aren’t spectacular, but the risks of putting an elderly dog with a heart murmur under general anaesthetic don’t really justify the benefits, in my humble, non-veterinarian opinion. I was not impressed with the suggestion, nor with the vet's response to my questioning the safety of anaesthetizing her being that if I cared about my dog, I would put the procedure on my credit card. Not once had I mentioned the $1100 price tag as a reason for not wanting to put Lil through it. I was not questioning the cost, but the safety of the procedure itself. He got a failing grade for listening skills there. As Lil’s human, I have a responsibility to look out for her, and if that involves me questioning her vet, I will. The right vet for me needs to be able to handle that. He or she also needs to able to listen to me and respond to my concerns appropriately. If I ever have kids, I feel sorry for their paediatrician, but I wouldn’t hesitate to advocate for them or question the doctor, if needed, so why wouldn’t I do the same for my pets? The Donald isn't the only one who can fire people.

When I take the girls into the vet’s office, the people at the front desk are helpful, caring, and kind. When I call with a question about their medication dosage or something, they pass the messages on to the vet, and he always returns my call promptly. Good communication is key. I feel like my vet cares about us and genuinely likes his job. Oh, and as an added bonus, they're open on Sundays! Just remember that you are the consumer, and you do not have to settle for poor quality health care for your pet. If I didn’t have a car, I would call the pet taxi, rent a car, or ask a friend to drive me so that I could obtain the best possible care for the girls. When I first adopted Ophelia, I didn’t have a car, and our vet was half an hour away by car. My mom or dad usually drove us, but we also took a regular cab twice (they never had a problem transporting us as long as she was in a carrier). 

In summary, good veterinary care is a major help when you're taking care of pets at any age, but it's essential to your sanity when your pets get into their golden years. 

D-Day

Today, we celebrated Ophelia's 14th birthday. Our vet called this morning with a great birthday gift for princess O: She doesn't have diabetes! (INSERT HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF HERE). Unfortunately, she does have kidney disease, and that is a progressive condition for which there is no cure. I know all about kidney disease because Lilith, my 16 1/2 year old dog, also has it.

The girls a few years ago when Lilith could still jump on the bed

This week has been challenging for me. On Monday, I took Lilith to the vet because her arthritis has been acting up, so she got some medication for that, and I occuppied myself with many unsuccessful attempts to get the medication into her system. Ophelia's always been so robust that it never occurred to me that she, too, is a senior. Boy, did I get a rude awakening! I woke up three days later, and as I was brushing my teeth, Ophelia came into the bathroom and peed on the floor. I was horrified because that's not like her at all, and I was not amused by her behaviour. I thought she was upset that Lilith has received most of my attention lately, and I scolded her as I got the bottle of cleaner and paper towels to clean up the mess. Then I turned on the light to assess the situation, and that's when I noticed that her urine was full of blood. My heart sank. I called the vet right away and got an appointment for later that morning.

I got the carrier ready, and braced myself for a stressful ride in the car. We moved a few weeks ago, and I couldn't find the key to the storage locker where Ophelia's carrier was kept, so she ended up being moved ghetto style in a cardboard box with holes poked in it for air. I sang "You are my Sunshine" to her the whole way to our new place, and she barely made a sound, but this was not the case on Thursday. Ophelia is a budding soprano in the car, especially if she figures she's en route to the vet, and she knew, believe me. She did well at the vet's office, and they were very good to us. Later that day, they called me and said that her urinalysis indicated signs of diabetes, and that I would need to bring her back the following day for a blood test. After some more yodelling in the car, we returned home. The next day we got the news that her blood glucose levels were normal, but my little lapwarmer is starting to show signs of age. There is a grief you go through as a pet parent when your pet is chronically ill, and I must admit that I'm struggling with this because it's not a battle we will ever win. There is no cure. We can simply slow down the progress of her kidney disease, and knowing that this is the beginning of the end is painful. I have two pets in their golden years to care for, so I can't afford much self-pity. Now that we have a diagnosis, we can begin to cope. 

Ophelia has been put on a special diet, and she will be put on blood pressure medication to slow down the rate at which the blood is pumped through her kidneys. I'm hoping she'll eat the chewable tablets. She doesn't seem sick, and is still cuddly and affectionate as could be, so I'm going to take a deep breath, give thanks for the past 14 years, and look forward to every single day I have left with her and her canine sister.

This is what it's like to have pets in their golden years. I'm doing everything I can to ensure that my pets have the best life possible. As long as they're still happy and relatively healthy, I will do whatever I need to do to help them enjoy their senior years. I am choosing to focus on their quality of life rather than the $600 vet bill I racked up this week.