|
Today is April 5th, 2003.
Tomorrow it will be one month to the day
since we put Roxy to sleep.
The longest my husband and I have been
without her has been 2 weeks, when we’d go on
vacation every other year and leave her with his
mother who loved to dog-sit her.
Even though she was easy to dog-sit, she
would stop eating for the first several days and
then start to eat just enough to get by until we
came home.
We are still feeling like she should be
returning soon from his Mom’s.
I want to call her and tell her we’re
ready for our dog to come home now.
I wonder, wherever Roxy is, is she eating? Is she waiting for us, just getting by until we come back to
her?
I met my husband Mike in the Fall of 1995.
Roxy was 2, almost 3.
I remember the first time my friend and I
went to his house & Roxy met us at the door.
Her short little nub of a tail wagging back
and forth like crazy.
She was the nicest dog from the first
second I spent with her until the last.
When Mike moved into a new house, I moved
in with him & Roxy.
Within one week she chewed a few pairs of
my underwear, and the “private” area out of a
pair of my sweatpants.
Clearly she did not approve of another
woman in the house taking up Mike’s attention.
But she never showed even the tiniest bit
of aggression towards me, and she never chewed
anything of mine again.
I think she decided she liked me and
didn’t mind if I stayed.
And I just loved her.
I had always wanted a dog and now I finally
had one – and she was so much fun, she had such
a great personality.
Roxy went everywhere with us.
We went for a walk, she went with us.
We ran errands, she went with us.
We went boating, she always went
with us. We
live in the Northwest Chicago suburbs near a chain
of lakes called the Fox Waterway.
Every time you pass from one lake to
another you have to go through a slow speed zone.
Whenever we slowed down in one of these,
Roxy would run and jump up to the front of our
little 19-foot boat and sit at the very front like
a giant hood ornament.
The people on every other boat on the busy
waterway would look, point & smile.
It became a joke between us.
We’d watch the other people out of the
corner of our eye and say “1-2-3…there’s the
smile”. Roxy made everybody smile, every time.
Boating was one thing, the water
was another.
One spring when she was about 4 we decided
our goal for that summer was to teach Roxy that
she could swim.
We kept throwing tennis balls (oh how she
loved those tennis balls) 10 feet out into the
water, but she would just sit there, about
stomach-deep in the water, waiting for the ball to
drift back to her.
Until one day, finally, she discovered how
you could let go of the bottom of the lake, get
the ball, and swim right back to shore.
That day she swam in aimless circles, just
in awe of her new talent.
It opened a whole new world to her - now
she could jump in with us when we cooled off in
the water. And
every year when spring came she would look at the
water, then at us, as if to ask “Can I go
swimming again yet?”
The years drifted by.
Roxy’s days were full of walks, chasing
after balls, snoozing on the deck in the sun,
taking naps with her buddy the cat.
We thought about getting a new puppy for a
few years. I
read dozens of articles about dozens of different
breeds. We
went to dog shows to meet breeders.
I looked through animal shelters’
websites. We wondered: Would
Roxy feel threatened, or would she love the new
playmate? Then, one day in October 2002, after a moment of weakness, we
came home from the pet store (of all places!) with
a Beagle puppy.
Roxy was all over her; sniffing her,
knocking her over, looking at us like “what is
that?!” But
she was so gentle to new, little Maggie.
Maggie spent her first night with her 4 ˝
pound body sleeping on Roxy’s 118 pound body.
The pictures are great.
Maggie came to us with a cold (big
surprise, from the pet store), and Roxy caught it
in just a few days.
Within 2 weeks Roxy had developed a very
severe case of pneumonia.
She stopped eating and lost 15 pounds.
She couldn’t breathe through her nose.
She slept all day long.
We thought she was going to die and talked
about putting her out of her misery. But we just couldn’t do it.
So we laid with her and loved her and did
everything we could.
And she got better.
By her 10th birthday on November
15th 2002 she was eating again, she had
put on some weight, and we were going for walks
and rides again.
Then on December 20th we
all moved into a brand new house.
We were so excited for Roxy because this
house was completely carpeted and there would be
no more slipping around on the hardwood floors
(good for her hips in her old age).
After a few weeks in the new house we
started to notice that she was beginning to look
like an old dog.
Her usual youthful, bouncy personality had
turned into a tired one.
We figured it was a result of the hard hit
she took from the pneumonia.
Then we noticed she had lost a lot of
muscle mass on her back, and her spine was
starting to protrude.
So I asked my husband “How many times
have you refilled her food bowl since we moved
in?” I
don’t remember the exact number, but between the
two of us it wasn’t many.
So we went back to the Vet.
They did blood tests and took X-rays of her
chest to make sure the pneumonia wasn’t coming
back. Two days later the Vet said everything was fine.
All of Roxy’s blood counts looked good
and her lungsand chest looked great in the X-ray.
So we figured it was the confusion of a new
puppy, a new house, and old age.
She wasn’t interested in her dry food
anymore, so I went and bought her wet food –
which she devoured happily.
This however was short-lived.
Within a couple of weeks she wasn’t very
interested in the wet food either. She was still a happy-go-lucky dog, but was getting weak.
One night she couldn’t even climb the
stairs to come to bed with us.
Then, the next day, I felt 2 large lumps
where her lymph nodes were. I knew you weren’t supposed to be able to feel the lymph
nodes, but still I wasn’t too alarmed.
The pneumonia had given her swollen glands,
but they had gone back to normal.
I felt around some more and noticed a
watery feeling at the front of her chest, like
she’d had water injected under the skin.
Back to the Vet. They wanted to take X-Rays again.
Roxy sat on the examining room
floor panting happily and begging for treats while
the Vet explained to us that there was a very
large mass growing in her chest. It had not shown on any of her previous X-Rays in the past 4
weeks, so it was developing rapidly.
They suspected Lymphoma and explained our
options: We
could take her home and make her as comfortable as
possible until it was time to ease her pain, or we
could look into chemotherapy.
We were sent home with prescriptions of
Prednisone and Furosemide. The Furosemide can make dogs lose bladder control, so we laid
plastic sheeting all over the downstairs carpet. That day I spent on the phone with 3 different chemotherapy
centers in our area, asking questions and figuring
prices in my head.
They said that Lymphoma responds very well
to chemo, but before we started Roxy on treatments
we should make sure that’s what she really had.
The next day I took Roxy to a specialist.
They took a needle aspiration from her
lymph node and sent it to the pathologist.
A couple days later the specialist gave me
a call. She
explained that Roxy’s cells indicated a
malignant form of Histiocytosis.
The condition is always fatal, and rapidly
so. Histiocytosis does not respond at all to chemotherapy, and
there is no other known treatment at this time.
We had been agonizing over whether we
should make Roxy go through chemo or not, and now
all of a sudden we didn’t even have that option
anymore. All
we had left was time.
We are so thankful for the
prednisone, which suppressed the growth of her
cancer. It
gave us so much more time that we otherwise
wouldn’t have had.
Without it we would have lost Roxy within a
week after I felt the watery mass in her chest.
With it, we had 2 more great months
together. They
were not easy months.
Roxy still wasn’t eating.
But the watery mass disappeared and her
lymph nodes, though still noticeably swollen,
shrank considerably.
I switched from dog food to people food for
Roxy. I
cooked her brown rice, barley, lamb, beef,
vegetables, broth, you name it.
We bought her vitamins & supplements. She loved the people food (big surprise).
After a week of that, life returned to a
somewhat normal routine.
Roxy was now sleeping downstairs in the
family room since it was difficult for her to
climb the stairs.
She was definitely not herself, she was
sick, but she was happy and comfortable and
enjoying being with us.
Days drifted by until the end of February
came. I
started to notice the watery build-up return to
Roxy’s chest.
She started to lose interest in the people
food. I
knew the cancer had built up an immunity to the
drugs and it would be only days now.
I laid with her and cried and told her I
was scared for her to leave.
I tried to memorize her face and the soft
fur on her neck where I buried my head. I repeated over and over what I’d always called her – my
favorite dog in the whole world.
I thanked her for being so much more than a
pet.
On March 4th, Tuesday,
Mike and I had an appointment to put her to sleep
at 3 p.m. We
tried to have a regular day, spending it at home
with Roxy. We
sat down and had lunch, and there was Roxy –
begging. She
was hungry. She
kept eating the food we gave her.
She had her normal happy expression and was
licking her chops, looking back and forth at Mike
and me. She
was having a great day.
2:50 rolled around and Mike & I tried
to take her to the Vet, but we couldn’t stop
crying. After
15 minutes we both admitted to each other that it
didn’t feel right that day. We weren’t just
being selfish, Roxy was feeling so good that day
and seemed so happy to be with us, we felt guilty.
We felt we weren’t doing her a favor that
day. So
we made the call to say we wouldn’t be coming.
Then we cried even harder, out of relief
and happiness because we got to have Roxy at least
one more day.
On Thursday, March 6th
at 3 p.m. we put Roxy to sleep.
That morning she had thrown up a thick,
yellow liquid, which I assume was the cancer
taking over her lungs.
We are thankful for euthanasia, because
Roxy’s death would have been a horrible one, had
it happened naturally.
She was drowning in her own fluid.
Mike and I both sat on the floor with her;
talking in her ear and petting her until she was
gone.
Throughout her life Roxy had been
so completely healthy, we were sure she’d live
to be at least 12.
Right up until she developed pneumonia, she
was still bouncing around, playful and energetic,
like when I first met her.
That disease robbed us all.
I often think – If I just hadn’t bought
that puppy, Roxy wouldn’t have gotten pneumonia.
And if she hadn’t gotten pneumonia, the
histiocytosis wouldn’t have surfaced.
I know that she probably would have
developed the cancer anyway, but in my heart I
really believe it wouldn’t have been until old
age weakened her, if only she hadn’t gotten that
pneumonia. Still,
I’m not mad at myself, I didn’t know anything
would go wrong. I’m just thankful for all the time we had together.
I know a lot of people curse God when a
loved one is taken away from them, but every time
I start to talk to him in my head, all I can say
is “Dear God, Thank you for Roxy”.
|