My wonderful vet is having her own medical issues so I went to VCA in Wakefield, where I learned my little fella dislocated his hip. He must have lots of age related arthritis in the joints, which is normal for his age. Resetting the joint doesn’t work, Only surgery is effective, but due to his age and medical history there is risk of the procedure itself as well as a risk of a less than desirable outcome. I know I am not ready to say goodbye to my spunky little man, but he might be ready to say goodbye to me.
He will be 13 on December 5th. Life expectancy for Maltese is 12-14. I am plagued by the question of surgery. What right do I have to put him through such a painful surgery, difficult recuperation, and possible chronic pain for whatever time he has left? It won’t be much time, and while some dogs do well with this surgery (younger dogs) others do not. Is that fair of me to cause more suffering for him?
He has been active on his walks, though over the past months I have noticed he has slowed down or even stopped on occasion, responding to my “Momma carry?” statement with an acquiescent tail wag and lowered head. But most times on his walks he is joyful and energetic, leading me and the pugs up the street off leash, happily greeting anyone he sees and politely visiting all his favorite spots. He loves his food (the new food Tim found) and gets up to eat, and eats it all enthusiastically. If he can’t be the this Tilly on the other side of surgery, is it the right thing to do? I don’t know.
I feel a lot of guilt, too. I’ve been so behind the eight ball myself lately he is in need of a grooming. The pugs are dirty dogs and rub off on him. The few teeth he has left are horrid and literally rotting. He has cataracts. And, of course, his liver is very, very bad. Both of the vets I saw last night (the really kind vet I saw last night at VCA, Dr. Wang, and the other vet at Mass Vet Referral Hospital, where Tilly is now) said both treatment or euthanasia are valid options at this point. The question: What would I like to do?
What I’d like to do is go back to the moment when he jumped and hold tighter. I’d like to give him a bath and blow dry, and a warm sweater. I’d like to make him his eggs and cheese this morning for breakfast. I’d like to be able to know that if he does have surgery, that I will be well enough to take care of him and see it through properly. I’d like to hold him and never let him go.
I’d like to stop crying. To know things are going to be ok, To have faith that the surgeon I will see this morning will know what to do and will give me sound advice from an honest place, not a mercenary one. I love my dogs like kids and have tried my best for them but can’t help but feel like I’ve fallen short in too many ways sometimes, especially lately since I’ve not felt really well. Each one of my pups (and birds, and cats) is precious. Even Toby. They have been my family for a decade-plus now and they deserve the best treatment I can give them.
But what if it only makes the quality of life worse, prolonging pain and suffering? As someone who has to live with high levels of pain every day, I do not wish to give that to my dog. Many days I wish I could euthanize my own painful body and escape it - why would I put my precious little Tilly in such a predicament when it might just be his time to pass peacefully and avoid all the physical suffering? Putting him to sleep is a personally devastating option filled with guilt and a feeling of abandonment towards my fur-kid, but I truly need to step back and think of the big picture of his little life. Because I love him and value his happiness and comfort, so very much.
I have an appointment at 9:45 this morning with the surgeon. I have applied for and received financing for the procedure should we go forward. My dear friend Kathy is filling in for me at work today. I will go get her and my classroom set up, and then go see my little boy. Thankfully, my sympathetic principal understands. Being a dog owner/parent/guardian means taking on this horrible decision. I truly hope I get information and news that makes sense and can guide me to the right one. My wonderful vet and friend Carol suggested I see what the surgeon says about his particular case as they do these surgeries all the time, and will know best. I trust her. But I am heartbroken.
My mind goes back to May of 2004 when I drove to my sister’s house with my dad to pick up the yet unseen puppy that was being given away by her nanny. In the backyard we discovered a tiny white fluff ball romping through the green grass, mixing in with patches of clover blossoms, a little pink tongue darting in and out of his smiling mouth. I remember crying because he was more beautiful and precious than I even thought possible, I couldn’t believe how much love I felt for this little creature upon first sight. He became my best friend and companion.
Even through all the other additions at my home, Till is my main man. He has been there always for me and I need to get my emotional act together so I can be there for him today, whatever happens. I wish this was happening at a time when I felt better mentally and physically, but we don’t get to choose these things, unfortunately. Yesterday he was playfully jumping around for his breakfast, barking at me to go faster. What a difference a day makes.