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Mitzi and Monday

One of the worries I had while I was away last month was about Mitzi. R had email'd me that she wasn't eating, that the sore on her neck was bleeding. He felt she was on her last legs and wondered if he should help her on her way across the Rainbow Bridge.

Mitzi is probably 12--she was a rescue, we adopted her 10.5 years ago so we don't know when exactly she was born--a senior dog. She's had the lump on her neck for months, I took her to the vet and it was diagnosed as a cancerous tumor. Vet said it could be operated on and removed but it was a major operation, a few weeks' recover with the dreaded cone, and there was no guarantee it wouldn't come back. R and I made the decision together not to have it operated on. I realize that others might have made a different decision and that's their right, I respect anyone for making a difficult decision. In our case, our decision was mainly based on her age and the trauma that the operation would put her through. 

Now, though, the lump is bigger and via email R was asking me if it was time to make a further decision. I had some thoughts: 

1. This was the first time that R had been alone with Mitzi for an extended period. The last time I went away for a month, R came too and we had a dog sitter, who had extensive experience in calming dogs, in getting along with them. While R loves Mitzi in his way, he and Mitz have never had the kind of close relationship she and I have. He doesn't take her for walks, I am the one she follows around the house, she sleeps in my room, etc. He wrote me that after I left she took to spending her days behind the couch, only emerging for dinnertime when she would lethargically take a few bites of food and then go back behind the couch. And that she had a fixation with the garage door; he felt that she was waiting for me to come back. I didn't help myself in my guilt feelings while I was gone by watching Disney's "Greyfriar's Bobby" and "The Incredible Journey." Would love to know what a therapist would have made of my doing THAT.

2. I didn't want her to cross the Rainbow Bridge without saying goodbye to her. I didn't want her to think--such are the thoughts that a pet owner has--I had abandoned her and disappeared. No, if possible, I wanted to be there when it was time. Not if it meant that she was in pain and her pain prolonged, but if possible I would like to be there. 

So R took her to the vet and in his usual R way didn't get much information from her. He doesn't like asking questions and he's not good at listening to any answers. She gave him some meds to calm Mitzi from scratching her sore, suggested he try wet dog food to get her to eat (since she was happy to scarf a can of tuna when he offered it) and gave him a sheet on what to look for as signs of end of life. Mitzi was thrilled that R was offering her cans of Purina dog food (ugh!) and even more thrilled when my friend Bev started coming every morning with her hound Penny to take Mitz for a walk with them. She started doing better. R said she even started interacting with him more, asking for numerous pats during the day.

And, since I've come home, she's back to her old self. Even though I quickly put an end to the cans of Purina and she is back on her very healthy dry dog food. She dances around the house, excited for walks, excited for her two meals a day. She's back to following me around the house.

I was thinking this morning how thankful I am that I was able to get back and that Mitzi's life is content again. My contribution to the universe for this morning.



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