It seems we’re back to the point we were last year with Schmoopy where it’s time to keep track of the good and bad days by putting happy and sad faces on the calendar. Here’s the tricky part: Each time she gets a little less mobile it becomes our new normal.
Sometimes she wants to be hand fed. Other times she wants to dine in bed:
She’ll eat an entire meal this way, but then get up right afterward. Go figure.
Sleep is very deep these days:
It’s now part of our routine for Mr. Wombat to carry Sophie up to bed at night and back downstairs for the day in the morning. We’ve also come to expect disrupted sleep as part of our night. She gets too warm (hot flashes?) on her bed and retreats to the cool tile of the bathroom floor. When her old bones tire of the hard surface, she summons us with a few barks to help her get up so she can shuffle back to the cushiony comfort of her old lady bed. This happens two to three times a night. *yawn*
It’s almost like having a newborn again.
Except you’re scraping 75 pounds of panting , scramble-footed hacking dog off the floor instead of scooping up a 10 lb. wisp of a person looking for a midnight snack.
The other night we came home from a party and found poor Schmoops frantically panting like she’d just run a marathon. She couldn’t get up and was quite frazzled. When I helped her stand, her back legs seemed to have lost all communication with her spine. Her feet flipped, her legs criss-crossed and refused to function.
Mr. Wombat carried her outside and she eventually regained use of her legs enough to go to the bathroom. Then he carried her straight up to bed.
We found ourselves staring down that big decision again.
I talked to the vet about it and asked if we could try a couple days of anti-inflammatory meds just to ease the recurring discomfort in her shoulder and see if it helped overall. I also asked if she was able to examine her and know if it was time for the dreaded decision. She said whatever is in the hearts of everyone in the house is what we should do. She said she could also give her some anti-anxiety meds to ward off more panicky moments like she had the other night when we left her alone for four hours. She said she would help us in whatever direction we decide to go.
I don’t really want to pile on more meds.
That said, I’m also having trouble being objective about this.
I see her limp along on a short walk and wonder if I’m keeping her around for selfish reasons.
At the same time, I see her eagerly hobbling to the next fire hydrant to read the scents du jour. I see her taking in every smell with great interest as they sweep through on the breeze. A lot of the time she looks happy.
Her brain still has big ideas, but her body just can’t keep up.
There are still some frisky moments where she barks to play. Playtime is now only about a minute or two long, and she knows if she tries to move too quickly her back end will give out.
So it’s a short, cautious play.
But it’s play.
Am I digging for the bright spots here?
We do everything we can to accommodate elderly people and keep them comfortable, and I feel like that’s what we should do for her. Trouble is, she can’t verbalize her level of pain or discomfort.
I got the gift of another full year and then some with her after last year’s visit from the house call vet. Isn’t that enough?
I suppose it should be, but it will never be enough. I just don’t want to say goodbye.
And I know one of these days, probably sooner rather than later, I’ll have to take that selfless step and let my Schmoopy go.
From reccewife:
Oh, I’m so sorry, these are such hard choices. I know in the end love will show you the right call when it’s time. She’s such a cutie
From Wombat Central:
Thanks. She’s just so sweet, it’s hard to let her go.
From Karyn Climans:
My heart goes out to you and your family. We had to put our beloved chocolate lab down almost 2 years ago. It broke our hearts. Yesterday, we took my friends’ 3 dogs to the vet (Michael in the Bahamas) and discovered that all 3 of them were very sick with heartworm. The hardest thing we had to do was call our friends to tell them the horrendous news and let them know that the only humane thing to do was to put all 3 dogs down. Coming home with an empty car was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done but we know we did the right thing. We saved the dogs from the pain of dying from heartworm.
You will know when it’s right to say goodbye to Schmoopy. If only we had the right to make the same decision for our human loved ones.
Karyn Climans recently posted..Let’s Pretend This Never Happened
From Wombat Central:
Thanks, Karyn. I still love seeing your chocolate’s sweet kissy face on your blog header. She did perk up a little bit today and act like herself, which was nice. Her back end really is failing, though, so we know we don’t have much time with her. How sad about the whole Michael situation. You’re so kind take his dogs in to the vet for them. Hugs to you and your family.
From bonnie:
My heart goes out to you and your family! And yes, I cried as I read this, wanting to hug my own three dogs. I’ve made this decision twice now and it’s never easy. To this day I miss those two dogs, and knowing that I’ll have to make that decision again, again and again hurts my heart. Hugs and prayers that you make the right decision for not only you, your family but also for Schmoopy.
bonnie recently posted..Out And About In Bardstown, KY.
From Wombat Central:
Thanks, Bonnie. I can only imagine how rough it was for you to have to make that decision not once but twice with your pups. We still miss our yellow lab, too. It will give me comfort to know Sophie will get to be back with her beloved Annabelle when she does go. I guess we all have to do our best to reflect on how much they brighten our days.
From Cristy:
It is so hard to watch them get older. Good luck with however you choose to proceed. She seems like such a sweetheart.
Cristy recently posted..Wordless Wednesday
From Wombat Central:
Thanks, Cristy. She’s such a big lover. Love eeeeveryone. Well, maybe except that little yapper down the street who alway bites her face when we see him out walking. I think she might want to sit on him.