Last ditch effort

I took Lil to see the vet today, and we're now trying another medication for her arthritis. I know I said I wouldn't add any more medications to her daily cocktail, but this new course of action makes sense to me. Previously, the vet didn't want to put Lilith on this particular medication because it might negatively affect her kidneys, but at this point, her pain level is too high to worry about that. I won't have her suffer. I can't, so if this doesn't work, I've decided to do the humane thing and opt for euthanasia. Sniff. There is no light at the end of the tunnel for my Lilith. She will not miraculously revert to the level of health she enjoyed when she was 14. Because I've accepted this, I've decided that if I can't maintain a good quality of life for her, I will help her die. I hope it doesn't come to that. I can't begin to express how much I want her death to occur without me having to make that decision, but love sometimes means having to shoulder responsibilities such as this one.

Anyway, I should start to see signs of improvement within a week at most, so here's hoping...

P.S. I'm awfully proud of myself for holding it together during our appointment, especially considering that I've been tearing up at the gym, on the sidewalk, and while driving. This experience has been hard, but it's teaching me a lot about how loving and compassionate I can be, and I just hope I'll be strong enough until the end.

 

Time to tap the reserves of inner strength

It seems like the time to release Lilith is approaching even faster. At this point, her little body is not responding to her medication, and she just seems different somehow, like she's ready to go. Maybe I'm imagining things, but I've always known her heart, just as she has always known mine, and I see no reason why that would change now. Physically speaking, she still likes when I take her out in her stroller, but she doesn't ask to walk much these days. She's getting pretty lethargic, and isn't eating as much as she used to. I'm trying not to jump to conclusions and panic. We have a vet appointment for Monday, and once I have a professional opinion, I will react accordingly. I just hope that I can remain strong. I will give myself full permission to sob and hide under the covers for five solid days afterwards, but while she's still here, I want to be strong for my dog so that she doesn't pick up my anxious energy.

When I decided to adopt Lilith, I promised her that I would always be there for her, and that if she was ever scared or hurting, that I would hold her paw and cuddle her. I have kept that promise so far, and I plan to keep it until the end. Of course I'm only human, and can't suppress my emotions entirely, but I have to be able to function so that I can continue to care for Lilith properly. It's time to find the fountain of inner strength that life has already taught me I possess and use it to help me be a good friend to Lilith in the process of dying, just as I have been in life.

 

A question of breeding

Lilith is happy even when it's chilly on the seawall

I sure love my dog. I would love her if her coat was a mottled collection of colours, and one ear permanently flopped. I would love her if she wasn't so well behaved, and if she barked at inappropriate times. Oh let's face it. I adore my dog. I think she's perfect, and her breeding has nothing to do with that sentiment. Now don't get me wrong; I am super thankful that she was bred responsibly because she enjoyed 15 1/2 years of perfect health, and even at 17, enjoys fairly good health. However, if she was a mixed breed dog, I wouldn't care. If her markings weren't so perfect, and her ears weren't so cute, I seriously doubt it would affect how much space she occupies in my heart.

Breeding is on my mind today though. You see, I was talking to someone at the stables today about Lil, and how I most likely won't take her to work with me, even though I can, just because of her age and the stress it would cause her. The person I was chatting with happens to train dogs, and eventually, the conversation began to focus on my next dog. It seems odd talking to someone about my future dog when Lilith is still here, but I suppose gathering information doesn't hurt. I think my next dog will be a lab. There are a few reasons for this: I want my next dog to come to work with me and act as a therapy dog for the kids, I want a dog who will enjoy sitting in the cockpit of my kayak and retrieving sticks at the dog beach up the street. I want a dog I can camp with and hike with, and one that can be trusted off leash. Shiba Inus are therefore not a good fit for someone like me. 


People are really getting into Shibas because they're beautiful, but many of them are unfriendly (even my sweet Lilith isn't into being patted by strangers, though she will tolerate it, especially when children are concerned). Shibas don't like water, and can't be trusted off leash. Lilith's breed was a good fit for my parents, and I have made adjustments that have enabled us to share a good life together. However, my next dog will be better suited to my lifestyle. Labs are known to be great dogs around water and children, and although I would prefer a slightly smaller dog, I think I can work with the size issue. 

My one and only Shiba getting as close to the ocean as I can convince her to <3

I hope that all breeders are responsible enough to try to create a match between prospective human and canine companions, but I think it helps when the humans have a good idea about what they want. When people look for life partners, some people focus too much on looks and not enough on personality traits. Many humans put more effort into looking for a used car than they do into thinking about what kind of dog to adopt. My modus operandi is to adopt for life. I am a "til death do us part" kind of pet parent. Why not put some thought into it and ensure a good fit all around? 

That said, I am grateful for the information I received today, and will now go on enjoying every day I have left with Lilith. Despite her breed's characteristics, she is somehow perfect for me. It's almost like she's met me in the middle, and matched every compromise I've made with one of her own. She is a great sister to Ophelia (and vice versa), and I consider sharing time and space with her a supreme honour. I don't know what I did to be so lucky.  

My little friend :-)

Smooth moves

When your dog gets on in years, you become waaaaaay too interested in their bowel movements. Well, maybe it's just me, but when Lil goes, it's debatable which one of us feels more relief. I have been known to announce to complete strangers "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!!", and they have no clue what to make of that statement. Then, I immediately go and look at her pooh in order to assess its solidity, quantity, and colour. It seems I've become quite the amateur scatologist/nutjob! 

There are days when everything flows smoothly, and then there are days when Lil gets a little backed up, shall we say. Oh what to do in such cases??? I try to keep her walk schedule consistent, take her to familiar places where she has felt comfortable going before, ensure that she gets enough exercise, and keep her well hydrated. I also make sure not to radically alter her diet, and keep other dogs away from her when she needs to do a #2. It drives me a little bit crazy when she's just about to go and some strange dog tries to shove his nose up her colon. Pardon the visual, but seriously, it happens. 

I am of the opinion that prevention beats a cure any day, so I rely heavily on that aforementioned tips. However, when I get desperate, I break out the pumpkin biscuit recipe. So without further ado, here it is:


Preheat oven to 350 F. In a large bowl, mix 2 eggs with 1/2 cup pumpkin. Stir in 2 Tbsp skim milk powder and 1/4 teaspoon sea salt. Add about 2 1/2 cups whole wheat flour gradually, forming a dough. Roll dough on a floured surface between 1/4-1/2" thick, cut, and place on an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 20 minutes on each side, and allow to cool completely. Store in the fridge.


Note: you can substitute brown rice flour for whole wheat, if you can find it.


Lil hasn't gone today, so I will be trying again shortly. I say that I will be trying again because I seem to think that providing verbal encouragement will somehow help. Even if Lil could hear me (she is, after all, hard of hearing), I doubt it would help, but still I persist. Some people cheer on their sports team as if the TV were a conduit that allowed their voices to be heard. I cheer my dog on in a very similar manner. On days that she doesn't go, I provide many chances. You can bet there will be a small whoop of victory on my part when she finally goes, and passersby will seriously question my mental health. Sigh, sometimes I question my mental health.

Some people just plain suck

I've been following the campaign to save Lennox the cross breed dog from execution by ignorant people who want him dead because he looks like a pit bull. It seems that they're going to kill him within hours, and I'm so angry I can barely contain myself. I want to fly to Ireland and slap the judge across the face. This dog was a beloved faily pet and an unofficial assistance dog to their disabled daughter, yet he was condemned because of his appearance. I can't even begin to describe the way that injustice upon injustice has been piled upon this poor dog's head. I'm sure you can google it if you really want to know. I just want to get the following off my chest:

Dear ignorant morons who sentenced an innocent animal to death,
You suck. You just plain suck. You suck in ways that I hope are magnified and sent right back to you karmically in such a way that you wish you were the ones who were about to die. I hope there's a hell so you can go there and suffer like Lennox did over the past two years when you kept him in disgusting conditions while he was kept apart from his family. I hope every dog you cross paths with for the rest of your life pees on your shoes. I hope you lose your hair due to stress, just like Lennox did because of what you put him through. I hope you see the ugliness of your own hearts reflected back to you through other people. You are a blight on the human race. 

There, I feel much better now. Too soon, I too will grieve my dog, but at least I will have the comfort of knowing that I've been able to give her the best life possible for the duration of our time together. Lennox's family has had to live knowing that their precious pet was suffering, and to rub salt in the wound, they won't even get to say good-bye. To the family, my sincerest, most heartfelt condolences.

Hot stuff baby this evening...and this morning

Wow is it ever stuffy in our apartment! It's 5:00 a.m. and it's already ridiculously warm in here. I have the curtains 3/4 drawn, the oscillating fan on high, and the balcony door open a bit. I guess I'll have to put the baby gate up and open the balcony door a whole lot more. My poor hairy girls!! They've been drinking a lot of water lately, so I've been careful to refill it about four times a day. I've also tried to get as much of Lil's undercoat off as possible so she has less insulation to contend with. Anyway, I should go wake her up. We're going for a walk now so that it's more pleasant for her. Enjoy the sunshine!

A spoonful of cod liver oil makes the medicine go down

The vet confirmed that Lil's heart murmur has gotten worse. He doesn't think it's quite the end yet, but he gave us a medication to help a little bit in conjunction with the fortekor. 

Lil isn't like most dogs. You can't just wrap a pill in bacon and expect her to eat it. She has been known to go on hunger strikes if she can smell liquid medicine in her food, and she gags if she discovers capsules in it. I knew I couldn't expect new results while attempting to get a capsule into her stomach by using the same failed methods. Thus, I decided to wrap the capsule in liver fudge and roll it in cod liver oil, then hand feed it to her. Mission accomplished! How exciting! If she takes the three sample pills successfully, I'll start her on a regular dose of it next week. 

That said, I'm pretty sure this is the last medication I'll put her on. Between the cartrophen, the fortekor, and now this one (the name of which eludes me right now), I think that's enough, especially if you consider the glycoflex, the cod liver oil, the prescription food, etc. etc. If her adorable little body is failing, of course I'll do what I can to help her remain comfortable, but to fight the inevitable so hard doesn't feel right. I think she's starting to communicate a sense of physical fatigue to me, and I will respect that.  

Staycation approaching

Summer school ends next week, and I'll be so happy to have some time off of work to spend with the girls. Lil's vet appointment is in two days, and I'm not looking forward to it. No matter what he says, I can see a change in my dog that isn't for the better. She's perked up a little over the past few days, but that doesn't mean I can pull the wool back over my eyes. I just want a bit more time with her. I want to walk her in the morning and not have to rush back home so I can drop her off before work. I want to brush her and pet her while I sip watermelon frosties on my balcony. I just want to be relaxed and free to enjoy my little buddy's company while I still can. 

Long walks make us both very happy :-)

Speaking of little buddies, Ophelia could use a little TLC as well. (She sometimes gets the short end of the stick because her sister's a bit high maintenance). Ophelia loves to cuddle, and I look forward to having a whole lot more time to spend with her as well.

Pure bliss

 

Time is the enemy

I think the end is near. I really do. Over the past week, Lil has begun to decline at an alarming rate, and I think her time to leave me is approaching much faster than I would like it to. 

She's started walking without much coordination, twitches in her sleep, and her appetite has diminished. She still eats, but not as much as she used to, and it takes her about an hour to show some interest in the contents of her food dish. She's less interested in the world during our walks, and has started making snorting noises at night that don't seem too pleasant for her. But on top of all these symptoms, the increased panting is the one that worries me the most. Even with her regular dose of fortekor, she has begun to pant any time that she's not lying down. That can't be comfortable. 

Even Ophelia seems to know something isn't right with her sister. She's been acting really agitated this past week and meowing at all hours. I can no longer avoid the signs. It appears that the time has come for me to face reality and ensure that I do the best I can for my little canine friend.

I feel the need to discuss the current situation with the vet. If it's as bad as I think it is, I need to hear it from someone else (and by that, I mean someone with the expertise and education required to give me an accurate appraisal of my dog's general health). I'm so scared. I've run out of words.