had to be put down at 2:30 in the morning Sept 16, 2013. He leaves an indescribable hole wrapped with nearly nine years' worth of memories, travels, and love.
We were on a final trip, to North Dakota to see the Badlands and spend some time at a monastery for research and refuge. What a beautiful backyard the Abbey had! Scenery stretching miles. I now have a new perspective on beauty, North Dakota, and our country's history.
He came down with symptoms of an partial urinary blockage or infection during our trip. First it was an increased urgency, then it was accidents 40 minutes after clearing his bladder. I took him to a good vet in Dickinson, ND. Yes, that's where the fracking oil boom is. I saw the oil rigs on the west side of Dickinson, some miles out, which would make them less than 30 miles from a National Park. Poisoning the groundwater through fracking could well have a major impact on the South Unit, where wild horses, buffalo, etc, roam, as well as all human inhabitation nearby.
He was diagnosed with a bladder infection, although the vet was doubtful, and asked me to call her on Monday if things didn't improve. We had a lovely day, that and the next day; we went on slow walks with plenty of pee time, kept him outside and relaxed. We saw wildlife of all sorts-- wild turkeys, wild horses, buffalo, and he had lots of smells and the weather was sunny, dry, warm-- perfect.
Then we drove back slowly across North Dakota with many stops for his bladder, with a side trip to Fort Abraham Lincoln State Park. This is where George Armstrong Custer was stationed at just before his famous defeat at Little Bighorn. A lovely place with lots of trails for the hale and hearty. We were neither, so I just photographed the barracks, Custer house, and went to look at the museum (Kajal lay down and enjoyed the air conditioning and the break from the car) and walked through One Slant Indian village. I learned much about the Mandans (a loose term for a few different Indian tribes speaking the same language.)
We arrived at the hotel late, ready to rest a full day and half before starting out again. It rained Saturday. We had a long outing in the drizzle, just poking around, then went to lunch in pouring rain. I gave him time outside later on, but neither of us wanted to go out much. We had a visitor to our room; Kajal went out once while she was there, and was able to go. Then when she left, Kajal had an accident just at the door, and then had problems urinating when he lifted his leg. We both saw him strain and it did not look good. I got very, very worried that despite the lack of bladder stones on X-ray he acted like he had an urinary blockage which was worsening. We shared a dinner of pork chops and mashed potatoes.
At 10:30 or so that night, when we returned from the store with cranberry juice for his bladder, he got out of the truck, lifted his leg, stopped, walked a few steps, howled twice, like screams of anguish. He froze in place, hunched in pain, rigid, staring ahead. I immediately went to him to try and ease his pain and found all muscles rigid as a board and he was non-responsive; nothing I could do seemed to make any difference-- not massage, anything. I sat down near by him as he was not wanting to go inside. A few minutes and he took a few steps and then lay down on the sidewalk.
I went to ask the hotel clerk to help me find an emergency vet open 24 hours on the weekend. Fortunately we were in a large city now, not a rural town, and we found one after much futile searching. Commerical browsers are not your friend: the real 24-hour weekend clinic was 7th down on the list. He phoned and wrote down the directions. Bharat was his name. That's the old, poetic name for India.
Because he was still glued to the sidewalk in misery, I had to drive my truck up to the sidewalk and load him in. Fortunately he was willing to stand and help me help him into the car.
But a nosyparker asked me if she could help. I showed her the vet papers and then wasted a precious minute writing that I was taking him to the ER right now and was she a vet? NO. "Good luck" she mouthed to me as I backed out and left for the ER vet.
Once I got to the clinic, I had to lift my dog out-- he simply was not able to jump down and I didn't want him to. He weighed 79 lbs, and I used to lift him often in practice for exactly an emergency like this. Once I rang the doorbell, they were ready and helped him through, he was very wobbly from the pain and what they thought was nerve compression, possible spinal problems-- cauda equina syndrome, which could affect the nerve leading to the bladder.
They heard about how my old vet had suggested a slight wobbliness in spring was from mild lyme, and they wanted to test for that even though he's been vaccinated. I said, did you find ticks? He would be most likely to pick them up this trip. Also does mild lyme recur in worse attacks like this? I also commented my legs were shaking at that very moment (they were) and nobody ever wants to test ME for lyme.
But the ataxia did suggest cauda equina- impingment of the bladder nerves, causing the symptoms I saw. They also had found no blockage during the cathering and draining of his bladder right off (very little urine, they said.) The ER vet, Dr. Kramer, wanted to continue pain control and wait until morning for better radiology evaluation. He would be on IVs for pain and fluids. I saw Kajal again-- he was grumpy but able to stand and walk a bit, in less pain. I explained the situation to him with hugs and petting then left at 2:30 AM to get some fitful sleep before seeing the ER vet again just before 8 o clock- the shift change.
The daytime vet consulted with the night shift vet and decided to treat the nerve pain and bladder dysfunction with electroacupuncture and gabapentin (nerve meds) in addition to the fentanyl he was on. Then I was able to have a hour-long visit with my dog.
He was walking well, but a brief help onto the comforter from the vet sent him into staring pain again. I petted him and massaged him until he started to respond and grin again and move a bit more. I hated to have that hour end, but I had to go get his meds, then food for me-- I had to eat despite my lack of appetite.
I said once that cancer was not off the table unless it was off the table. I hadn't forgotten that was part of the "differential diagnosis" the Dickinson vet did. They had the records, they knew too. But what I didn't know and the vets did, was that if it was, it was the sort of cancer that would be a death sentence.
But,we all, and I mean me and the vets, wanted it to be a bladder infection, cauda equina, something that wasn't a death sentence. The vet techs promised to spoil him, as the vet planned an ultrasound but I wanted the pain control to be better before that was done; ultrasounds on the abdomen are very painful when you already have pain there. By the time he rested up from acupuncture, the day shift vet was swamped with clients. I saw this when I returned during dinnertime on Sunday night. Apparently this is the hot hour for pet owners to feel, no, things can't wait until Monday after all.
I dropped off food for him. He was not eating the canned offerings and looked grumpy again; he had the deluxe cage suite, but it was still a cage. Still, a few words and a promise I would come back that morning to get him. They hadn't done the ultrasound yet but felt he was doing well from the acupuncture; he had cooperated.
But I was bothered by being told he hadn't urinated yet, and also that he did not look significantly better at all, just on pain control. Also, he hadn't urinated yet by dinnertime. I asked for an update and by 11:30, I was trying to sleep and couldn't. I was panicked that I hadn't gotten a fuller update and I contacted them again and said I can't sleep what is going on.
After midnight I got the e-mail update from Dr. Kramer, who had done our intake and was the night shift vet. He told me bad news. It turns out the nerve compression was caused by an inoperable tumor in the
trigone area of the bladder; furthermore the sort of tumor that lodges there tends to be a highly metastatic one. He also said he had a lot of abdominal fluid that was abnormal and his bladder was nearly empty, which suggested he had a rupture in his urinary tract although they couldn't find a defect in the bladder wall (The leak probably was in the urethers leading from kidneys to the bladder.)
I asked his pain control be adjusted to the point he was alert but comfortable, and I took a few minutes to fall part, then did the drive to see my dog. Kajal was led out of the cage into the homey lounge room. For the first time since his emergency, he seemed his usual self, which is a tribute to pain control, for his belly was clearly swollen. I told him the bad news and asked him a few things, and then talked out the options with the vet, even though I knew the answer before I began. I wanted to be sure I knew it was the right thing to do to my best friend.
I was with him and spoke to him for a long while of heaven, meeting lost family and friends, all until we ran out of words and he was getting drowsy thinking over what I said about what happens next (based on true-life NDEs I told him he would experience heaven, have beauty all around him, etc..)
I also told him I hated to see him go, and he would be my favorite dog forever..
As he was drowsing off, he heard something and got up to check, went to the back room, where he got interested in a dog then turned around and alerted to a microwave. I said to the vet, "he heard a beeping and was looking for it." To the end, he liked doing his job especially if it meant he could be nosy.
Minutes later, he was put to sleep. I cannot believe that dog was alert enough with pain control to work sound even with with a bladder burst from cancer. I was glad he was well controlled enough I got back the dog I hadn't seen since Saturday night, even if it was just long enough to prepare him.
He died in a cozy room, on a comforter folded under him. It's still surreal, but I am glad we got in one last adventure before he went. My regret will be the times I mistook his pain for stubbornness; I should have known better.
Even in death, with a swollen belly from the excess abdominal fluid, he looked great. I couldn't bear it after around 30 minutes, expecting him to move even after I was sure brain death had occurred. He looked asleep. I threw his leash in the dumpster as I left. It had his name written on it for the hospital and he had no
need of it anymore.
I'll have to prepare an official obit, but I cannot begin to describe all our adventures, even in a single book.
Moments included being petted by a US Senatorial candidate and an ex-Poet Laureate, disrupting events at Ford's Theatre, and many other incidents that would be improbable if they weren't true; service
dogs get in the oddest situations sometimes.
Kajal, incidentally, is Hindi for "Black Beauty" and he grew into that name more than I ever expected.
He was a beautiful dog, inside and out. He came to me rowdy and humpbacked, gangly, and quickly metamorphosed in a lovely dog with some love, meals, and regular exercise. And, this dog was two months in a shelter without anybody coming to look at him. It turns out people look first at the blonde and fluffy
dogs, and ignore the shortcoated black dogs as being too common, maybe scarier.
I honestly don't know what I am going to do without him. I guess day by day, I'll find out. He was a great dog, and allowed to be even more great through his work as a service dog.
Right now my heart is anguished at looking for a new dog. No dog will be him, but then, before I met him I did not know how much I would need him and just how much of a strength and inspiration he would be to me.
.
I told him that death was the next great adventure and that he would get to play with his siblings again. I have never wanted heaven to be so real as I do now. Now I must continue. While preparing him to die, I told him that I would keep a part of him in my heart always, and I will.