This morning when I called Millie from her basket she was unable to leave it; and when I helped her out, she was unable to stand. I made repeated attempts without success, and left her for a while before trying again, so as not to cause her too much distress. But in the interim, and undoubtedly distressed, she had urinated. She appeared to have no control whatever in her hind quarters.
When the vet arrived we had a long discussion, about Millie's condition and general quality of life. The vet was struck by the wastage in her muscles, but diagnosed Vestibular. It is a loss of balance as a consequence of which, Millie was unable to orient herself. It is apparently common in dogs, and they can recover, sometimes with some minor side effects; but as the vet herself said, she couldn't guarantee that she would recover.
What was sad about it was, that Millie, mid morning, seemed quite alert, listening, or seeming to pay attention, while Jenny was on the phone. But while a part of Jenny wanted Millie to be given a chance to recover, she left the decision to me, and in the end, it was that Millie should be put to sleep. To her credit, the vet talked around known issues in respect of Millie's general health, without offering a personal opinion, one way or the other, as to what we should do; and I made the point that a factor in the discussion had to be the strain on me, in continuing to look after her. As I pointed out, it was quite stressful being out with her yesterday, when she seemed so distant and unconnected to what was going on around her, to say nothing of coping with a significant decline in her appetite or capacity for walking, in recent months.
According to the vet, Vestibular can come on suddenly, but on reflection, we think the symptoms had been coming on for a number of days, manifest in sickness, vagueness, and a degree of disorientation: standing over her food to no obvious purpose.
So the question that I had to ask, and answer, was, what were we saving her for? and I could see nothing in the future, but, a continuing decline. So the decision was, that she should be put to sleep. It was a tearful moment, for both of us, about a dog that had a reputation for being feisty; but she had many remarkable qualities, and letting go was painful. And the memory, for now, that is stuck in my head, is of Millie, (feeble though she was,) standing by the front door last night, as our students left for the disco.
And that's the nub of it: when she was well, and no matter what was going on, Millie was never, ever, not interested.
_______________My Dog
My dog is multilingual
My dog is mathematical
My dog is on top of life,
And doesn't need a sabbatical.
My neighbour was a good neighbour
My neighbour was kind,
But my neighbour - when it came to dogs,
Was blind.
My dog's a hot dog
My dog is feisty
Two Alsatian's took a bite
And the vet's bill was tasty.
My dog can tell the time
It stands with expectation,
And sits with poise and without a noise
Absorbed - in the chef's creation.
My dog is an ageing dog
The postman isn't sent away;
And there's no greeting at the door:
"I can't be bothered any more!"
My dog is ageing.
__________
© Cormac McCloskey
My Dog: Taken from What's in a Dog
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