May 3, 2012
May I share with you, as best I can the last day in the life of my beautiful and gallant, 17 yr. old, Westie, “Duffy”.
The morning arrived when I knew that all I had been doing to keep Duffy with me was not, in any way, in his best interest.
His quality of Life had drastically deteriorated. He could no longer see my face, except as a dim image. He could no longer run, chase squirrels, dig for chipmunks he could no longer be a dog. Even the familiar surroundings of home were a challenge to negotiate. But worst of all, the cancerous tumor growing on his bladder began to push its way through his skin. This caused him to bite and pull at his fur creating bare patches and rawness. The medicine I had been administering for many months had lost its effectiveness. It was time, the day I dreaded had arrived.
My eyes filled with tears. I proceeded to give Duffy what would be his last bathing.
He sat quietly and patiently, as he always did, until the final grooming was complete. I looked at him through my tears and thought: How handsome a dog you truly are. I can’t say for certain that he knew his pending fate, but I sensed he did and, in his own way of communicating, was telling me he understood what was about to occur and it was okay.
Scooped him up, cradled him in my arms and carried him to the car and placed him in his customary spot. Front seat elevated with a cushion which permitted him a view. He loved that perch.
With the drive to Companion Animal Hospital complete I sat there unable to make myself gather him in my arms and carry him inside.
Don’t know how long I sat there immobilized with an aching heart. Could have been 10 minutes could have been an hour. I had lost all concept of time.
It was at this point Dr. Izo’s friendly face appeared at Duffy’s window. She was there not to reason with me to convince me it was the right thing to do, but to consoles me.
So with tears in her eyes and mine she led us inside.
Once there we (Duffy and I) were shown into a softly lit room with a stand up lamp and rocking chair. I sat down. One of the staff came into the room holding a soft blanket which she solemnly spread over my lap. Here another assistant placed Duffy gently into my arms.
The first injection was already completed, this would “make him sleepy!” I was told. The end was now so near, much to near. I could feel my tears streaming and could hear my own sobs as I cradled his small, now helpless, little body. I was now looking into his intelligent and trusting brown eyes for the last time.
The second injection was administered. This would complete the process of his end. He took his last breath in my arms. I sat there holding him close, petting his now lifeless body. I could not bring myself to part from him.
All of the staff, one by one came into the room to express their sorrow at my loss and to console me, each in his or hers own way.
Dr. Izo entered first, then Dr. Kavran, then Terry (Dr. Izo’s husband) followed by every member of the staff, each with tears flowing freely.
Approximately 2 1/2 hours had elapsed since Duffy’s last breath, his body now stiffening to my touch. A touch he could no longer feel.
Finally an assistant came into the room and I knew the time for me had arrived, I handed him over.
I miss my dear Duffy still.
I will always be grateful to everyone at Companion Animal Hospital for their extraordinary Compassion. You are the best.
Dan M.