Clouds

Dee Dee had congestive heart failure with a build-up of fluids in her chest. She also had kidney disease. Strengthening her heart with protein hurt her kidneys. Protecting her kidneys with a low-protein diet kept her heart from getting stronger. We were in a catch-22.

If she had eaten the low-protein diet and taken her heart medicine, that would have been the best path, but she stopped eating rice and vegetables and would only eat meat, beginning with can dog food and ending with Boar's Head turkey. She would slowly lose interest with each until we found a more tantalizing meat to coax her into eating again. The more protein she ate, the faster her kidneys failed. But without meat to take her medicine, her heart disease would do further damage, filling her body with fluid. We asked her doctor what would happen if we stopped her medicines, and he said she would crash sooner. He said to keep feeding her meat if that was the only way to get her to eat and the only way to get her to take her meds.

Her doctor told us Saturday that her kidneys were shot and that she would soon begin vomiting and having diarrhea, and eventually stop peeing altogether.

Her failing kidneys are the reason she lost her appetite. Not to be too graphic, but the waste, instead of passing in her urine, stayed in her body and got absorbed throughout. The reason dogs stop eating is that they feel terrible from the build up and even their stomach is full of waste. Before we knew about the kidney failure, we believed that she had lost her appetite due to the congestion of fluids in her body (from heart failure), pressing on her stomach and other organs. This new explanation for the loss of appetite changed the outlook considerably, even though it's possible that both explanations were true.

That explains why we had to make the decision we did when she threw up. It wasn't a normal vomit of food. It was waste. It smelled and looked like liquid shit.

That was a dramatic turning point. She felt lousy. Up to that point, she had done a great job of eating just enough to take her meds and sustain herself without vomitting. It's like she judged every mouthful to see if she could keep it down. When she stopped eating chicken, we gave her an appetite stimulant the doctor had prescribed to keep her eating. As it turns out, that stimulant upset her careful calibration, and she ate too much. But, again, it was the only way we could get her to take her meds. And to say “too much” is not quite accurate. She was hardly eating at all. Nevertheless, she lost her balance.

The next day she was noticeably sullen. She barely wagged her tail. She laid down on the bed and sofa and just stared. On her morning walk, she was sluggish and only wanted to eat dirt and grass. She refused all food, even baby food, which means she would not get the medicine her heart needed.   She continued to drink lots of water, but it was not able to filter the waste in her body.

We had arrived at dead ends everywhere we looked.

Perhaps the most perplexing thing is that on the outside, she looked pretty good. Until the last day, she was energetic, interested, walking at a good pace, and sleeping well. That's what the doctor saw on Friday that gave us hope that we had found the sweet spot with home-cooked meals and treatment of heart disease. We thought we could sustain this for a while. He said she wasn't ready for euthanasia. With the blood results, he gave us the new prognosis of impending collapse.

So that's how we ended up in her doctor's office Wednesday for the last time.

After the doctor euthanized Dee Dee, we rounded up her things in the house and put them away. We took the baby food we had bought to the Clearwater food bank. The bike ride gave us a distraction from our grief and we were glad to make a contribution to someone in need.

On the way home, we stopped at Carvor's for a blackened grouper sandwich. We sat outside with our masks on until the food arrived. There was only one other couple. It was around 2:00 in the afternoon. We enjoyed our first sit down meal at a restaurant since early March. For the first time in a long time, we did not need to rush home.

When we did make it home, it was really hard. No greeting. Just a clean house. We would have traded the clean house for Dee Dee in a heart beat. How can anyone live in a clean house?

It was the first time in 34 years that we were without a pet. We both had a cat when we met. Then we got Dexter together, 20 years ago. Then Dee Dee joined him 13 years ago, overlapping for several years. We joked that she was our "back-up dog," for when Dexter died. 

It's true, too. When Dexter died, we grieved, but Dee Dee needed our attention and care and pulled us through. 

Poor planning on our part that we find ourselves dog-less. There is a huge hole. We spent a great deal of time talking to her and caring for her, even before she got sick. She was an ever-present part of our lives.

We went on our normal evening walk on the Pinellas Trail, even though she was no longer with us. It was weird, but it brought us comfort as we watched the setting sun.

We had trouble going to sleep, even though we had tried to exhaust ourselves with walking and biking. It was the first time in 34 years that there wasn't at least one animal in the bed with us. Dee Dee's spot was right in the middle. She used my body as a bolster for her back and put her four paws in John's back, much to his good-natured complaint. Sometimes she slept with her head between the pillows and sometimes her head on my leg. Last night, there was so much room. Too much room.

Neither one of us wanted to go to sleep because waking up would mean that it was real. Finally exhaustion and crying gave way to sleep.

Wednesday, Sept. 2
Miles walked: 8.4
Miles biked: 16.44

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Thursday, Sept. 3

 

We woke up and had coffee. It was nice to no longer have the medicine delivery challenge first thing. That was getting increasingly difficult. It was 6:00 and no dog needed to be walked. So we went for a neighborhood walk, just the two of us. It reminded me of the time after Dexter had died; we kept up our routines for Dee Dee and went on our normal walks with her. The first morning we were almost home and I looked down and in my hand was Dexter's empty leash. I was holding it as I normally would have out of habit. This morning was like that, except there was no dog at all.

We walked the causeway. For the first time in months, I actually enjoyed it. For the past few months, the causeway walk had made me anxious because I was away from Dee Dee and worried about her. I knew we needed the exercise and to take care of ourselves, but I just didn't want to leave her.

Lunch brought about a breakdown. We pulled out the Boar's Head turkey and fell apart. We had already agreed to let Dee Dee have it because it's all that we could get her to eat. I had a tuna sandwich, while John finished off the Boar's Head.

The last items of Dee Dee's to put away were her meds. There were several, one of them almost new and very expensive. We placed them in a bag and rode our bikes to the Animal Hospital. We called at the front to ask if we could donate them or, if not, could they dispose of them for us. They said they would take them because they often have dog owners who cannot afford the medicines, and they could supply them to those in need. We were glad that the medicines would be put to use and help some dog that needed it and might not otherwise get the treatment.

We continued our ride to Wall Springs Park. Because of the recent rains, the underground spring was pumping water to the surface and out to the sound.

We tried to stay active and wear ourselves out.

We know from experience that each day will get better and that the memories of Dee Dee will never leave us, even as we take our own last breath.

Her one salient quality was her need to touch someone at all times. She needed the reassurance of your presence, and, in return, she gave her loyalty and love.

Sept. 3

Miles walked: 11.0
Miles biked: 18.68