making the right choices

She struggled yesterday.


We went for a big walk on Friday. I was so pleased to see her come along of her own volition. But yesterday she chose to just sit around the house and let us do our thing.

I had to go to a family function yesterday, so came back a few hours later than usual to give her her afternoon meds. I think the combination of the late meds and the big walk from the day before helped exacerbate everything, and that evening she started breathing super heavy.

It was very hard to watch her struggle to breathe. It made me regret not saying goodbye on Friday. But then I reminded myself that she had been improving since Thursday afternoon, and she had wanted to come with us.

I was relieved to see the breathing is easier today, but when I put my hand on her, I can feel her heartbeat, and it’s irregular. We spent today sitting side by side as I did my work and she chilled out beside me.

She also made lots of effort to roll onto her back so I could give her tummy scratches.

I think seeing her suffer like that last night with big heaving shuddering breaths really rattled wolfieboy. I certainly felt guilty. Wolfieboy has suggested we make the appointment tomorrow.

I don’t really want to, to be honest. When she looks well. So you think to yourself, hey, she wants to stay with us…

She’s eating all her food. She’s got the pills down pat. Her body’s adjusted to the steroids and she’s stopped peeing in the loo.

So after all that, why should I let her go away?

Because at the end of the day she’s slowly going away in front of our eyes. Her tummy feels bloated. There are lumps and bumps along her rib cage that shouldn’t be there. That third eye lid is still half closed. She has bruising along her shin - you can see it through the skin from where they shaved it for the IV drip. She flops down on the ground with a lot less grace. She no longer runs around, bounding through the bushes and egging Freddy on for a run. She lies beside you and you can hear her breathing in short breaths. Her heartbeat is irregular.

It can’t be fun. She doesn’t know to ask for help. She just knows that she’s not well.

Dinner is currently being offered, and she happily trots off to the door. Whereas last week before the meds kicked in she would just lie there forlornly looking at us. And when you offered her food she would just half heartedly sniff and then look at us forlornly.

It’s different when they eat. Why would you want to say goodbye if she’s eating? A key sign that they’re wanting to hang around. You don’t want to die if you’re eating, right?

But today she seems so much better. Just resting. Recuperating.

It is such a hard decision to say goodbye.

We will see what the Vet says tomorrow. I don’t want to rush it. At the same time, I don’t want to make the wrong decision either. Wolfieboy keeps reminding me that this is now for our benefit, not hers. It’s easy to say, but not so easy to process. And seeing what last night was like, is a harsh reminder.

grateful for the little things

Elsie rallied yesterday and started eating.

After watching her refuse raw steak and cat food for two days, I started crying as I watched her wolf down poached chicken and rice soup. It still makes me tear up as I watch her eat. I am trying to offer her small sized portions every few hours. And she seems grateful for the food. Comes up to me afterwards as if to say, 'thanks for that.'

Sweet Elsie girl.

Last night when I came home, she seemed to keep asking for cuddles. She even managed to half roll over for a tummy rub.

I spoke to the Vet yesterday afternoon and he said we could keep her for the weekend and reassess next week.

So instead of us all going down today, Wolfieboy will be going down at 4 to get more drugs for her.

When I asked the Vet to clarify about his decision, he explained that most time dogs with lymphosarcoma don't make it past a week. But there are always exceptions to the rule. I am hoping she is one of those exceptions and I am grateful that she has the capacity to stay with us for a little longer.

I have taken the day off from work today to stay with her. She is currently lying in our living room while we go about our day. It doesn't help that today is rainy. But yesterday was lovely and warm, and I think she enjoyed spending the day outside in her pen. Nothing like routine for a dog to make them feel comfortable and safe.

Either way, I have been warned that this cancer is terminal and that I should be prepared. I'm ok with that. Well, I'm not, but I have to be. But in the mean time, I am grateful for every additional moment that I get to spend with her.

I love you, Elsie.

my precious little girl

My beautiful Elsie girl is not well.

We went away on holiday for a week and Fred and Elsie spent it at my mum's.  Halfway through, my brother messaged me to tell me that she hadn't eaten for 3 days. At the time I didn't think much of it, because she had been on and off her food a few weeks beforehand, but had gone back.

We came home late on Tuesday night, but on Wednesday evening noticed she had a red dot in her eye and it looked quite swollen. Her inside eyelid was half covering it.

Work has been a bit crazy, so we weren't able to take her to the Vet's until Saturday. Upon which the Vet found two lumps behind her head which he was very concerned about. The initial conclusion was some kind of infection, although he did mention the possibility of a lymphoma, a cancer in the lymph system. The eye he said was probably due to a bump somewhere and nothing to be worried about.

He gave us some antibiotics, sent us home, but said to come back on Monday. He also gave us some different food and suggested I get some cat food.

Brought her home, offered her food and she perked up. Ate all her food, and did 2 more rounds through the day. Things were looking better.

But come Sunday, her appetite started to wane again.

Took her in on Monday, to a very unhappy Vet, who wanted to keep her overnight to get a biopsy. She also started to bleed watery discharge through her nostril, which was very scary to see.

The Vet ended up not taking a biopsy as she started to get jaundiced, but took some blood tests instead.

Tuesday came with the verdict that she was Not Well.

This is what her final results say, according to the Vet:

"Elsie is suffering from a lymphoproliferative disease, either lymphoma or myeloma or lymphosarcoma. We are awaiting the results of electrophoresis to try and better interpret which possibility it is. The prognosis is guarded to poor for Elsie although imaging of the long bones, chest and abdomen will provide answers as to whether or not the neoplastic disorder has metastasised from a central tumour or directly from the bone marrow. Elsie is being sent home with symptomatic treatment to make her comfortable only. If there are any issues please do not hesitate to contact the clinic. I would advise that Elsie be given quality time if the decision is not to pursue further workup, and the decision to euthanise be made with her continued dignity in mind."

Suffice to say, I am very unhappy with the results.

The next step was originally an MRI, and possibly chemo based on what the oncologist would say.
We refused the MRI. But the Vet admitted that all it would most likely do would be to make our decision sit easier with us. He didn't fight us when we said we wouldn't go down that route. He didn't even say that much. When I picked up the phone yesterday, he merely said, the results are in. Let me just read them to you. And proceeded to read the litany of problems that she is suffering from. Hoping in some passive way that the blood results would speak for themselves. He admitted that this was the worst list of results he'd ever seen. And that basically there was hardly anything in her system that didn't have something going on.

It is so hard to let her go.

My little girl is only 4. It seems only yesterday that I found her on the pound website and went to see her. It seems only yesterday I brought her home, reeking of flea detergent, scrawny as can be, and skittish at just about everything. She has blossomed into a beautiful confident self assured dog, gentle as can be, with an underlying streak of Princess.

She has bonded with my daughter, and I have many photos of them playing together, spending time together, and even one of wolfiepup sitting on Elsie's back singing row your boat.

My heart aches to think about it. She is currently on steroids and drugs to make her feel more comfortable, and it shows. Looking at her, you think, hey, you're ok. What am I thinking to let you go?

But then you notice she refuses food. And you are reminded that she really is not well. For a girl who used to eat so fast when you fed her, terrified her next meal was never coming, to suddenly to be faced with one who just turns her head away when offered raw steak and chicken... I still remember the time I left a plate of mushrooms and eggs on the coffee table, but had to rush off to the loo. When I came back, I was lucky to get any eggs at all - she had snuck over and eaten half my breakfast!

It is heartbreaking to see her like this and to know that in a few days she will no longer be with us. Her time with us has been so short. It is sad to think that the relationship she has begun with wolfiepup will soon be over.

This picture always comes to mind, when I think about the two of them. I had such high hopes for them to grow together. She tolerates wolfiepup so well. Whereas Fred merely suffers her and walks away the minute he's given a chance, she acts more like Mother, and stays with her.

Wolfiepup said goodnight to her tonight, in a cheerful voice: "goodnight Elsie!" And my heart broke again to think that this would be one of the last times she would be able to say it. That in a few nights time there would be no Elsie to say goodbye to. It is too sad and terrifying to think about.

It is so sad to see her like this. You keep on telling yourself that she will get better. But blood results don't lie. Her cholesterol is nearly at zero and the Vet was saying it's probably leaching out of her intestines. Her liver has crazy counts and her red blood cells are barely regenerating. The way he read those results out, it amazed me that she was even moving.

And when wolfieboy went to collect her from the Vet, she made the huge effort to jump into the car. My heart breaks just thinking about it.

My beautiful, beautiful, little girl.

I am sad for me, for the loss of a sweet dog. I am sad for her, for the life she won't be able to continue with us. I am sad for my wolfiepup, for the lost chance to spend more time with her companion. I am sad for Fred, for the loss of his playmate.

I am just sad.

We will say goodbye to her on Friday and put her in a sunny spot on the hill. She's always loved to be up high. And she's always loved the sun. In the winters she would sit in front of the fire, staring and praying to her fire god.

I will miss her so much.

She's only 4. She's hardly begun her life, and it's already coming to an end. It makes me want to back out, cancel that appointment and just keep on keeping her comfortable. But the Vet had warned on Tuesday that we shouldn't let it go on too long, and that it was definitely inadvisable to do it over the weekend.

My poor, poor, precious girl.

I don't want to say goodbye to you. I want you to stay with us. Please don't go. Please don't leave us.

It makes it harder, because it is our decision to make. Playing god isn't easy. Who am I to say who lives and dies? She seems ok at the moment. Maybe she still has months in her. Is it bad to say that I wish the decision was taken out of my hands? That she could just to sleep quietly? Is that cowardly? Am I strong enough to be there and watch those soulful trusting eyes look at me one last time as I give the nod for that needle go in and watch as that beautiful life passes away? I don't know if I can do it. But as wolfieboy points out, it's no longer about us. It's about her.

If it's about having a good life, then you can argue she's had one with us. Bush walks in the afternoon, sniffing roo poo every morning. Spending time inside with us when the weather is bad, and getting lots of cuddles and attention. I do feel a little guilty at how much I have neglected both her and Fred since my wolfiepup was born. But as one friend pointed out, it's just been 'life.' She's been part of the pack.

It just such a heavy burden to bear.

I always thought Fred would be the first to go. He's already 7. But that we'd have years to come with Elsie.

It's just been so sudden. One minute we were going in just to see what was wrong. I was worried it would be heart worm as I had forgotten to feed her tablets. It doesn't matter where we live, but up in Sydney, it does. And I hadn't had time to remember. So while I was reassured that that wasn't the problem, in no way was I prepared for cancer. And such an aggressive one as this. "Don't let it go to the weekend" were the Vet's words.

Wolfieboy wonders if perhaps the Vet was being dramatic. Or perhaps that the drugs he has given her have simply masked the problem. It's not like Elsie can talk and tell us what the problem is.

My beautiful, beautiful, little girl

The case of Miss Runaway and the Wolfiepup

Elsie decided to run away again the other morning.

Usually I let them out for their breakfast and they go off, do their business and then come back. Usually I stand out there and watch, but sometimes I get a bit lax.

Yesterday I was lax.

After finishing my breakfast I go out to take a look and discover both puppy dogs have gone. Standing outside yelling "frrrreee--eeed" and "elllll-seeeeee" garners nothing but the chitter chatter of birds. *sigh*

So off I go to notify the neighbours to keep an eye and ear out.

An hour later Fred trots back. Phew! But strangely, no sign of Elsie.

This is strange because usually if they wander off together, they tend to either be found together, or come back together. But in this case, Fred was flying solo.

By about 5pm I was starting to get really worried. No calls on my phone. No messages or emails from neighbours. I'm starting to imagine her lying on the side of the road.

Even Fred started looking for her on our walk

At 7pm, I get a garbled phone call. Apparently she wandered across the road to a neighbour's place that I hadn't met yet and had spent the day with them (!). They had patchy reception and had to wait till their mobile recharged before ringing me.

So off I hop to meet a new neighbour and pick Miss Runaway home. Strangely enough she wasn't that interested in coming home. Upon seeing her and calling out "Elsie" she started walking even slower. And the guy had to encourage her to keep coming. *shakes head*

I get the feeling that she's feeling rather displaced at the moment.

Wolfiepup has started crawling up to the dogs in the evening and patting them and squealing in delight. At one stage when she got a bit rambunctious Elsie got up and moved away.

Here is wolfiepup trying to explain to him his ranking on the totem pole. He doesn't seem too impressed

Poor puppy dogs.

I hate to tell you though, Elsie. Life isn't always greener on the other side!

Fred toys with stinky Elsie

Now that the weather has warmed up we are going out for walks every afternoon. Fred and Elsie love inspecting the dam. In Elsie's case inspecting the dam means going right in and getting herself wet. There's nothing more appealing as the smell of wet dog as it wafts towards you... mmMMmmm..

 

 

Don't look at me like that Elsie. You know you stink.

When she's not busy getting herself wet, she's spending her time trying to figure out what Fred is doing. What's going on over there?

 

Fred: Nothing to interest you here, Elsie. Keep moving

 

Oh dear, you really have spotted something. And here I thought you were just toying with Elsie.

 

Now, now Fred. Leave the Roos alone. Time to go home and spend some time cuddling.

Fred: Oh, well, if that's on offer, let's go then!

New companions and sulky puppies

Over a year of radio silence! What could possess me to stay quiet for so long, I hear you ask? Well, Fred and Elsie now have a new companion. It's still early days but we're getting there. I'm looking forward to the day when she'll be able to play with the wolfies, and keep them entertained on my behalf.

Her first arrival into the household was greeted with whines from both Fred and Elsie, with Fred circling the living room numerous times before cowering under the coffee table with a continuous high whine, as if to say, "What? I've moved down the social ladder *again?!*"

Elsie on the other hand seemed very miffed. I think she had grown fond of listening to wolfiepup's heartbeat in my tummy and was all prepared to be midwife. Having me come home, baby in hand seemed to be a bit of a shock to her system.

It's been 10 months since then, and the little wolfiepup is now off and crawling and smiles every time she sees them. Fred and Elsie on the other hand are a little perplexed by it all.

Fred is trying to cope with no longer being the apple of my eye, and Elsie just wishes wolfiepup would stop shouting 'dawdy-door!' in her ear all the time.


Poor puppies.

They have however learnt that where wolfiepup eats is a smorgasbord for free food. They are finally meeting the Vet's approval weight wise (Fred is down to an amazing 42 kilos!) so I think they appreciate treats for what they are. Eventually wolfiepup should be able to bribe love out of them, but for now at least, she is enjoying seeing them and knows they are part of the family.

Most days, weather willing, all four of us go for walks, although Elsie is still being a bit of a princess and goes on strike.

I don't know what she's so glum about though. What she doesn't know is that I was watching her the whole time, and although I don't really want to know what it was that she found and was so happy about, suffice to say little girl, life ain't so tough living in this household.

New collars, kissies and chasies

Elsie got a new collar a few months back. Her old one was falling apart. She now has a spiffy leather and suede brown and green collar, as opposed to Fred's red and brown one.

Elsie: Don't I look spiffy?

Fred: Hey Else...

 

Elsie: Yeah, what's up?

Fred: Gotcha. hahaha...

 

Elsie: *sigh* I always fall for that one.

 

Fred: *snarf*

Elsie: I'll get you yet..

Fred: Oh, I don't think so, Elsie...

Elsie: tee hee...