Sissy
In the past week she has deteriorated quickly and steadily. She can still get around but is clearly in pain. From the back she looks almost deformed, as there is no muscle tissue in her left rear end at all. Why didn't I notice this before? She has to more or less drag her leg behind or shift all her weight to the front, where her right shoulder is going as well. I can't watch this anymore. It's not fair to her and it's not fair to me.
So yesterday I started the calls - to the vet, to Nathan to come be with me - to Honorio, could he help me dig her grave, could there be a house call or did I have to go to Citivet or could I go to Mission and where's Dr Cannon; I want him to do it.
But it's worked out that Dr. Cannon is in Chicago so Dr. Randall, who has treated her once or twice, is coming over with Maria, the vet tech at Mission, who has been the biggest blessing to me - giving me cut rate prices and sometimes free medication - in the same way, I'll turn over all of Sissy's meds to her, and she'll pass them on to someone else who needs them.
The past 24 hours have been surreal. I have barely been able to stop crying. But went to the Spitfire callbacks for Jerry and got through just fine. It was like I completely compartmentalized Sissy into one place, this public face into another.
Went into work this morning and was okay until Don stopped by to say hi and the next thing I knew I was in tears; but fortunately was pretty much done with what I'd wanted to accomplish today. I bought a new pitchfork and gloves at Home Depot on the way home and had just changed clothes, put on tennis shoes, etc., when I saw Honorio in the front yard with a post hole digger. I had blocked out her grave and started digging a little yesterday. So I went out and started helping - he's doing most of the heavy work - breaking soil with a pitchaxe and whomping that digger into the ground, and then I went behind him and shoveled out the dirt.
And then of all the strangest things in the world, Sissy nosed open the front door, limped, nearly fell down the front steps, dragged herself out to a shady bush, plopped down and watched us dig for half an hour. Honorio and I were both just kind of stunned, not knowing what to think about this dog watching two humans dig her grave.
She's down in so many ways - I haven't been able to get any meds other than a tiny dose of rimadyl and some pain killers down her. She can smell the anti-pee med a mile away and simply refuses to take it. SHe's not drinking so much water either.
So yesterday I started the calls - to the vet, to Nathan to come be with me - to Honorio, could he help me dig her grave, could there be a house call or did I have to go to Citivet or could I go to Mission and where's Dr Cannon; I want him to do it.
But it's worked out that Dr. Cannon is in Chicago so Dr. Randall, who has treated her once or twice, is coming over with Maria, the vet tech at Mission, who has been the biggest blessing to me - giving me cut rate prices and sometimes free medication - in the same way, I'll turn over all of Sissy's meds to her, and she'll pass them on to someone else who needs them.
The past 24 hours have been surreal. I have barely been able to stop crying. But went to the Spitfire callbacks for Jerry and got through just fine. It was like I completely compartmentalized Sissy into one place, this public face into another.
Went into work this morning and was okay until Don stopped by to say hi and the next thing I knew I was in tears; but fortunately was pretty much done with what I'd wanted to accomplish today. I bought a new pitchfork and gloves at Home Depot on the way home and had just changed clothes, put on tennis shoes, etc., when I saw Honorio in the front yard with a post hole digger. I had blocked out her grave and started digging a little yesterday. So I went out and started helping - he's doing most of the heavy work - breaking soil with a pitchaxe and whomping that digger into the ground, and then I went behind him and shoveled out the dirt.
And then of all the strangest things in the world, Sissy nosed open the front door, limped, nearly fell down the front steps, dragged herself out to a shady bush, plopped down and watched us dig for half an hour. Honorio and I were both just kind of stunned, not knowing what to think about this dog watching two humans dig her grave.
She's down in so many ways - I haven't been able to get any meds other than a tiny dose of rimadyl and some pain killers down her. She can smell the anti-pee med a mile away and simply refuses to take it. SHe's not drinking so much water either.
posted by pamdbigd | 4:31 PM
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