My Buddy, My Friend

You're my buddy, my pal, my friend

It will be that way until the end

“How do you know when it’s time?” I’d asked the vet a couple weeks ago.  “Well, she’ll have good days and she’ll have bad days .  You’ll learn to recognize those and then when she has more bad than good then you need to start considering putting her to sleep.”

Good days and bad.  Last Saturday (a week ago) was a very bad day.  Late in the evening I literally thought that she was dying.  The next morning when I got home from a morning run she looked at me with bright eyes; alert and inquisitive.  “Welcome home, where have you been?  Running without me?” she seemed to ask.  Sunday was pretty good.  Sunday was also the day that I decided to pull out two little left over bunk bed mattresses.  I laid them one on top of the other next to her dog bed and spent the night in my sleeping bag.  When she seemed a little restless I reached over and stroked her head.  That was in the little downstairs “computer room.”

Next night we moved back upstairs to the bedroom and that’s where we’ve been bunking together on the floor.  Here are our sleeping arrangements until the end.  Last night I got in the sleeping bag and Rainey plopped her nose on my mattress and looked at me with the trust and affection that come only through the eyes of a dog.  God how do I do this? 

We figured the good day/bad day counts would be a few weeks off. We figured that the infection in her front paw would react to the antibiotics and then we would wait for the cancer to become more virulent.  About 6 weeks the vet said before noticing the effects of the cancer.  That was 2 ½ weeks ago.  We figured that the bandage on her paw would have been off a week ago. We figured that she wouldn’t still be hopping on 3 legs.  We figured that she would be back to being our tail wagging, food begging, hit you with her nose for head rubs friend.  We figured on a month and a half more.  We figured everything wrong.  The past week was mostly bad days.

Our most recent trip to the vet toppled everything.  The infection in her paw hasn’t responded to the antibiotics and is spreading out of the paw and into the ankle.  “It’s really a bad one,” said the vet. "It's not responding to the massage in topical antibiotics or to the Cipro. The cells keep multiplying." The only other recourse is to amputate the leg.  We rejected that option 10 days ago.  I’d recently talked to my cousin  Patty in Wyoming; a veterinary technician who has made animals her life.  I asked Patty about amputation and she asked me Rainey’s age.  Rainey is 12 and Patty responded, “Well you have to determine if she’s an old 12 or a 12 with more years in front of her.”  Rainey is an old 12.  She’s given us the life expectancy that’s expected of a Gordon Setter.  Anything over 12 in a Gordon are bonus years.

I’ve been dreading this decision for over a week; for over a year; for over two years.  As Rainey aged I realized that at some point I might have to make the call to take my friend out of misery.  It was always in the distance.  It was always the “what if.”  Even two weeks ago it was a “what if”; albeit a looming one.  Suddenly it emerged.

I’ve talked to a co-worker who’s done this twice.  “You never know if it’s the right time.  You’re going to ask yourself, ‘Did I do it too early?  Did I wait too long?’” It’s been a solitary struggle.  The wife has been distancing herself from it. For most of her life she’s not had pets and euthanizing your friend of a decade is not comprehensible to her.  I can’t blame her for it and I’m glad that it’s left to me.  There’s no arguing or questioning.  No turmoil to make a bad situation contentious and worse.   I’ve put myself on a sort of autopilot while trying to get someone to validate this decision for me. 

During the last visit the vet gave me the sanction I’d been desperate for.  I told her of my plans.  “Is that too long to wait?”  I asked.  She assured me that with the help of a fentanyl patch and some Tramadol Rainey could be made comfortable. 

On Thursday morning I’ll hold my Rainey close as she crosses the rainbow bridge. 

And wherever you go, I want you to know

You're my buddy, my pal, my friend

~ lyrics Willie Nelson.