My daughter, Tara who had visited over the holiday weekend left to return home a couple of hours ago.
.
It was completely joyous to finally spend some quality time with her. -- Every second was precious gift.
.
But, sadly, we had to face extremely hard and wrenching decision last night.
.
My (according to Animal Care and Control), 23-year-old dog, Tina had rapidly been declining over these many months and especially, the last few weeks.
.
It wasn't a case of cancer or some other painful, terminal disease, but rather, the slow failure of multiple organ system abilities along with the ravages of very advanced age.
.
Tina could no longer walk on the street without her back legs giving out and she falling over. Near blindness was causing her to sometimes walk into things and also topple over. But, worst of all were the past couple of days when Tina was unable to get up from sitting position and struggled helplessly. Despite my helping her when witnessing the struggle, Tina was unable to get to a special elimination area and soiled herself several times.
.
She also showed no interest in food over past two days -- something never witnessed in Tina over almost 18 years.
.
My daughter offered to return to the city next week to assist me in taking Tina to my vet for the final time. But, it was then I realized, Tina would probably not make it to next week. She was already exhibiting neurological symptoms, panting and some suggestion of seizures.
.
I could not continue to helplessly watch Tina suffer with the inevitable outcome being that of a terrifying, convulsive death, likely within days.
.
With Tara's help, we were able to get a cab late last night and took Tina to the Animal Medical Center.
.
Our vet was extremely competent, caring, kind and compassionate. We were given time to spend with Tina and to pray. When the time came, the vet knelt down to Tina on the floor (rather than lifting her to table and stressing her out) and administered a shot of proplow (powerful anesthetic) intravenously. I gently petted Tina as she lowered her head and vet administered second shot for euthanasia. Tina was peacefully gone in seconds without any hint of pain or distress.
.
It was then I realized Tina was gone forever and I "lost it." I greatly needed my daughter and was grateful she was there for comfort and solace. It seemed we were at AMC for hours, but it was actually far less.
.
Though the night was warm and sticky, we walked more than 30 blocks home because it somehow helped to just walk and talk and share memories of Tina. -- Happy and even funny memories.
.
There was the memory of when I first saw Tina up for adoption at the Manhattan city pound (Animal Care and Control) in 1997. I can still see the happy smile on the "5-year-old," Corgi/Spitz's face as I said to Jesse, the then, New Hope (Rescue) Coordinator for AC&C, "Oh my, what a beautiful dog! She should get adopted in a snap! But, just in case, she doesn't, please put my name on her."
.
During the next two weeks, I kept seeing Tina in the same cage each time I went to the shelter to rescue a cat or dog. It was shocking that such a friendly, cheerful and gorgeous small dog would still be languishing in an adoption cage. But, in those days very few people actually went to AC&C to adopt.
.
Then, one day I got the inevitable phone call from Jesse.
.
"Patty, you know that dog you requested your name on? She is on the Euth list for tonight because she is very sick with Kennel Cough. You need to get here within 20 minutes if you want to take her."
.
"Oh no! Don't let anything happen to her!" I practically screamed into the phone. "I'm jumping in a cab and will there within ten minutes!"
.
Fortunately, Tina was still alive when I bolted into the shelter, though looking nothing like the happy, vibrant dog observed over the previous two weeks.
.
Rather, there were ropes of drool trailing from her mouth and green snot dripping from her nose. Tina, in short, looked a mess, though her lively spirit was not in the least, dampened or diminished.
.
In fact, drool, green snot and all, Tina practically pulled me all the way home.
.
Though initially the plan was to foster and care for Tina until she recovered and could be spayed in preparation for adoption, all that changed within weeks.
.
Long story short, I fell in love with Tina. Along with other circumstances at the time, I removed Tina from adoption listings almost as soon as she had been spayed and put on.
.
Tina was mine and wasn't going anywhere.
.
So began a relationship of nearly 18 years.
.
There were times the ever exuberant, leash pulling and initially difficult to housebreak dog frustrated with her tendencies to run off and not respond to "come" commands. (Tina could in fact, never be trusted off leash because of her independent spirit and easy distractibility.) There was the one time when Tina acting like a "protective" dog suddenly lurched at what she perceived threat, causing me to fall and break my wrist. And there were the occasional times when Tina became jealous and unaccepting of a particular foster dog. (A certain, high strung female Pekingese named, "Nina" comes most readily to mind.)
.
But, on total, Tina was always the "happy" liberated spirit for whom almost nothing (including a sickness inducing stint at the city pound) could bring down.
.
That is, until the last few months when slowly realizing her diminished capacities, Tina had to accept the losses of so much we used to do together -- especially, the nearly 3 mile walks in Central Park everyday.
.
Despite vet visits and medications (which helped for a while) those once three mile walks eventually became difficult struggles just to walk up the block.
.
Worst of all, the always independent, free-spirited Tina especially hated me carrying her up and down the stairs. It seemed her final humiliation.
.
Now, all of that is gone. Gone with two quick injections of the needle.
.
Everything is suddenly eerily quiet, especially with my daughter now gone too as the Labor Day holiday comes to an end.
.
It is very hard getting used to my home without Tina. Her presence here for almost 18 years was part of my very soul.
.
But, in the end, we have to make these horrible decisions not for what is more bearable to us, but for what finally brings peace -- the only kind we ultimately can offer -- to our beloved animals.
.
That is, after all our final responsibility to them -- to insure that they leave this world with the same sense of love and care we shared throughout their lives and without the terror and suffering that comes too often to those who die alone.
.
I am grateful that at least Tina had that.
.
Finally, I am grateful to still have my 18-year-old Pomeranian, Chance, who is at this moment, resting comfortably at my feet. Though appearing a bit bewildered, it doesn't seem quite yet, Chance realizes his long time canine girlfriend is gone.
.
Hopefully, to carry on without too much grief and trauma, though only time alone can tell that.
.
I am finally grateful for the comfort and solace provided by my daughter (and others) during these recent trying times. As per suggestion, it became all too painfully clear over the past few days, Tina was "letting me know." It was important to observe, take that in and finally make that wrenching decision for which there is never really, the right time.
.
I can only hope and pray now that the beautiful spirit of Tina is romping somewhere freely, unhampered by pain and age, but rather vibrant, strong and happy as I so remember her. Perhaps she has even found a few of her former "foster" friends (both dog and cat) with whom she enjoyed brief, but especially happy and rewarding comradery.
.
Tina was and always will be a very special dog. A cheerful pal and mentor to many, but part of very soul and existence to me. Her loss is nearly insurmountable.
.
May God treasure and forever protect and hold dear, Tina's indomitable, free and happy spirit. I have to trust and have faith now that such is so. -- PCA
.
.
********
************
I'm sorry to hear of this Patty--I know all too well what you're going through. You will make it--time heals everything. But you should also be PROUD--how many Tinas are there in the world who weren't taken in by special people like you. She is now free from old age and pain, and maybe she will be there to greet you across the Rainbow Bridge. I know my Randi will be waiting there too.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Jeffrey. The understanding and compassion of you and others is so immensely helpful. It is very hard getting used to life without Tina. Sometimes, when Chance is lying down, I "see" Tina and then have to realize she is no longer here. That is very difficult. But, on the other side of that, there are also all the beautiful and funny memories of Tina of which there are so many. In the end, it is those we have to hold on to as they so outnumber the pain and grief of loss. We are ultimately blessed who can derive so much joy, sharing, pleasure, companionship and yes, even frustrations with our animals. Strange in retospect how the so-called, "frustrations" later become funny. :)
ReplyDeletePatty,
ReplyDeleteEvery time I have read your immensely insightful, often poignant and poetic, sometimes funny blogs, I have smiled first seeing the picture of you, Tina and Chance...Yes, I, like others, feel your sorrow and loss. I cried when you wrote about Tina's decline, the realization that it was necessary to give her this act a gentle death, and when you wrote about walking - blocks home afterward. I've been through this with my cats Fluffy (2006) and Maggie (2012)- and more times with my friends. and we grieve over our lost geese and deer...there is I feel a special place in God's heart for you and for all of us who love these little ones, even when we know that we will lose them. I also Firmly believe that not only our animal companions but every creature we have loved are restored to health - and waiting for us at the "Rainbow Bridge"
Wow, what beautiful comment, Mary. Nothing I can add except to say thank you so much for sharing your experiences and having such compassion and understanding for mine.
ReplyDelete