I cried through this, too

I Died Today. By Duke Roberts.

This is the hardest thing about loving animals, about having animal companions we love so much. It is so hard to say goodbye. But we can at least try to make them as comfortable as possible and celebrate the time they were with us. This was done right.

Dogs are a gift from the Gods

They are our companions, our guardians, our 'best friends'. In their brief lives, they teach us so much about loyalty, devotion, love, and trust. Dogs and mankind have been together for thousands of years, benefiting from each other in a way unlike that of other animals and man. They work for us, guard us, and keep us from being lonely, asking only to be loved and cared for in exchange. Dogs come in a variety of shapes and colours, are very large to very small. Some people enjoy the company of their dogs more than they do other people, for this reason: dogs love unconditionally.

Sadly, not every dog is lucky enough to have a good human, who will truly take care of him or her with love and attention. Some are bred to fight, to become vicious, to have their natures twisted and turned through pain and abuse. If they're lucky, and are not beyond the power of love, they may be saved and rehabilitated. Many neglected or abused dogs are skittish, afraid, but over time can learn to trust humans again.

With care, dogs may live for many years, depending on the breed. But with companionship comes a responsibility that is both necessary and horrible. Dogs, like us, age and become infirm. Although sometimes they die naturally, there comes a time when debilitation or illness puts them in pain, and we don't want to see them suffer. At that time, we go to a veterinarian and ask that the dog be put to death in the gentlest way possible. Oh, there are lots of euphemisms, 'put to sleep', 'put down', 'sent to the farm' (ever popular when speaking to children), and of course the clinical term of euthanasia. But essentially, we take them and kill them. But it is to prevent their suffering further. And it is a kindness that we deny ourselves and our human loved ones, who languish and suffer horribly in the name of human lives being more important than animal ones.

It is a very sad thing to lose a dog to time. But the important thing is to remember the love, the hope, the unconditional devotion shared over the dog's lifetime. As long as we have memories, they are alive within us, and never really leave. In time the emptiness fades a bit, although there is always a place within us where the feeling of loss is carried. And we are so much the better for having had the experience of being with them at all.

I guess there's always a balance--1,200 again

About 1,200 dogs euthanized after disease outbreak: Wyoming distemper cases linked to large-scale breeder in Kansas

An estimated 1,200 dogs at a Kansas kennel were euthanized after an outbreak in Wyoming of the highly contagious disease distemper was linked to the large-scale breeding operation.

Kansas Livestock Commissioner Bill Brown said the state started investigating the Beaver Creek Kennels near Oberlin in September after being contacted by Wyoming's state veterinarian about distemper cases at a pet store in Cheyenne.

Brown said Wednesday that the Kansas Animal Health Department quarantined the kennel twice after investigators confirmed several cases of distemper in puppies that were being sold out of state. When breeder Jeff Fortin couldn't sell dogs because of the quarantines, he ran out of money to pay staff members and take care of the animals.

"It became an economic situation, and consequently became a health, safety and welfare issue for the puppies," Brown said. "The owner couldn't feed his dogs, his help left, and health, safety and welfare became an even bigger issue."

On the one hand, this sounds like a puppy mill with major issues and it's good that it is shut down. But 1,200. It breaks my heart.

And then there's this:

Under a consent agreement between the Kansas Animal Health Department Fortin, he can get back to business in six months if he meets stringent requirements, Brown said.

So it may happen again. :(

Poor dog, poor family :(

Hero dog from Afghanistan mistakenly killed: 'Target' euthanized at Arizona shelter before owner could claim her

A dog named Target that lived through explosions in war-torn Afghanistan couldn't survive a brief stay at an Arizona animal shelter.

The shepherd mix was featured on "The "Oprah Winfrey Show" and local media for her heroics in Afghanistan, got loose from her owners on Friday and was put down on Monday after spending the weekend in a county shelter.

An unidentified employee at the Pinal County facility was placed on administrative leave after euthanizing the female shepherd mix by mistake, county Animal Care and Control officials said.

In Afghanistan, Target frightened a suicide bomber inside a military base. Who knows how many lives were saved? It's sad she made it all the way here only to be put to death by mistake. Now all they'll have of a heroine is her cremains.

A very sobering but thought-provoking article on medical ethics and disasters

Strained by Katrina, a Hospital Faced Deadly Choices

The smell of death was overpowering the moment a relief worker cracked open one of the hospital chapel’s wooden doors. Inside, more than a dozen bodies lay motionless on low cots and on the ground, shrouded in white sheets. Here, a wisp of gray hair peeked out. There, a knee was flung akimbo. A pallid hand reached across a blue gown.

Within days, the grisly tableau became the focus of an investigation into what happened when the floodwaters of Hurricane Katrina marooned Memorial Medical Center in Uptown New Orleans. The hurricane knocked out power and running water and sent the temperatures inside above 100 degrees. Still, investigators were surprised at the number of bodies in the makeshift morgue and were stunned when health care workers charged that a well-regarded doctor and two respected nurses had hastened the deaths of some patients by injecting them with lethal doses of drugs. Mortuary workers eventually carried 45 corpses from Memorial, more than from any comparable-size hospital in the drowned city.

At some point in the aftermath of Katrina, a decision was made at Memorial to put the patients with 'do not resuscitate' orders dead last in the evacuation. Contrary to most triage schemes, the healthiest were evacuated first, leaving the sickest to linger. Others were thought too big to move (a sobering thought for me, I might add, given my weight, that being fat could doom you). And quite a few patients were 'made comfortable' with injections of medicines whose combined effects made them calmly die. A doctor and two nurses were charged, but the case never got beyond a grand jury. The writer, however, has access to interviews and records that were not made public to those juries, and the story of Memorial, its conditions, the mentality of desperation, and the chilling decisions made is really quite compelling. It's a long article, but well worth a read.

Something that made me cry (I know, I cry at the drop of a hat, but...)

Iconic koala that survived fires dies in surgery: ‘Sam,’ who was captured on film during Australia blazes, loses fight for life

Sam the Koala had cysts associated with urogenital chlamydiosis, which affects up to 50 percent of Australia's koala population, and went through surgery to correct the problem, but the disease was so advanced and would have continued to have been very painful, so she was euthanised. Sam became a symbol of hope during the horrible Australian bush fires when a photo was taken of her taking water from a bottle. She was treated for severe burns at a wildlife centre.

I had seen a news story where they said they were going to do the surgery, and had a feeling it would not come out okay. I'm sorry I was right.

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Awww

Dying bulldog saves owner from fire: Fire comes two weeks after vet discovers dog’s cancerous tumors

PS 05.27.09

Bulldog who saved owner is put to sleep

Brittney stopped eating on Monday and her cancer caused increased bloating in her stomach. Her owner felt the best way to repay her for saving his life and the kindest thing to do for her was to euthanise her today.

At least she did not suffer long and was able to be a genuine heroine before her death. My thoughts are with Scott Seymore, the nine-year-old bulldog's human companion. I know what a great loss it is, and all I can say is, take care, and know the pain does ease after awhile, but the memories stay, and they are comforting.

It's really hard to believe

that it's been a year since I had Cerys put down. I miss her, especially when I see people walking their dogs. But I know it was the right thing to do, and she was so frail, it would have been a matter of time anyway. This way she went without suffering.

I've kind of gotten used to a petless house. I've had pets since I was 13, so it seemed odd at first. Every now and then I think of getting a kitten, but let's face it, I'm rarely home--it wouldn't be fair to him or her.

That's pretty much it. I hope wherever she is, Cerys is happy. I doubt dogs have a soul, but I do believe they have a spirit of some sort. And wherever dogs go after death, I hope it's a pleasant place.

Goodbye, my 'beloved' [Cerys is Welsh for 'beloved']. I miss you, my faithful companion.

An unfortunate necessity

Lone Sydney baby whale put down

The baby humpback whale, abandoned by its mother, was trying to suckle boats. The 2-3 week-old, who had been named Colin, had not eaten in a week and his health was deteriorating. Efforts to lead him out to sea and hopefully find an adoptive mother did not work. He was suffering from shark bites and starvation, and rather than have him die slowly, the decision was made to humanely euthanise him. Colin's story has captivated Australia. Apparently there is no way to feed a whale in captivity if it is still breast-feeding. It's sad, but I suppose it's also a matter of survival of the fittest. Still, I hate that they had to kill him.

Here's a video from MSNBC of Colin.

And another death, that made me bawl

I'm such a sucker for animals...

Ailing Giraffe Gretchen, 22, Is Euthanized at the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore.

I'm home today

taking some time in light of Cerys' death. I haven't had any real crying fits since we put her to sleep, just tearing up a lot and a feeling of emptiness. I'm glad I took some time. I just woke up a little while ago, after sleeping about 12 hours. I was so tired last night--I just wanted to crawl into a ball and sleep. I guess it was all the emotions her death brought.

Today I need to wash her water bowl and leash (and put the latter and her collar away, I'm keeping them as mementos), pick up the food she wouldn't eat (she had gotten to the point where she'd just overturn a bowl of food, so I fed her on the floor), and give the bathroom a final cleaning where she had so much trouble the other night. My mop head fell apart the other night and I had to finish with paper towels. Now I have a new mophead. I feel like I'm eradicating her presence from the house, but it needs to be done.

I know it will get better with time, but for now I feel a little lost. It's pretty outside and I feel like taking a walk, but my foot prevents that. I might sit outside for awhile. I don't know. I feel like I have all this energy and should be doing something, but on the other hand I just want to sit in bed and pull the covers over my head.

I would like to put in a word for Gainesway Small Animal Clinic and Dr Clark Vice. They were wonderful to me, first with Darius' death, then with Cerys' appointments and eventual death. They kept her very comfortable as opposed to my last vet, who took advantage of my grief to run up a huge bill with one cat and charged me for another's euthanasia even though I had been a client for years. I would highly recommend them. And if I ever have another pet, I'll go back to them.

The house is kind of lonely tonight and I'm sad, but

relieved as well. Cerys was put to sleep a little after 5 this afternoon. She had to be carried to the car and into the vet's because she couldn't stand on her own. She would never let me carry her before she went downhill. The friend who went with me was shocked by how fragile she had become, I think, and of course she didn't really seem conscious of either of us, although I think on some level she recognised she was loved and was being petted.

They gave us some time to comfort and love on her and then Dr Vice came in and we discussed how she'd been the last couple of days. He confirmed our suspicion that she may have had a stroke. He said I was absolutely doing the right thing; in dogs of her age, even if they can get some improvement they usually see the same thing happen a week or month later. He gave her the injection. She went very quickly, making little 'grr'ing noises. Cerys always had such cute noises. Dr Vice left us alone for a little while. It was disconcerting that after she was gone, as the muscles relax, she seemed to gasp several times, but I knew it was just a reflex the body goes through after death. Her bladder relaxed as well. We left her there. I think that was the hardest thing; but she was only a shell--the dog I loved was gone.

I can only hope that somewhere her spirit, loosed from her elderly body, is frolicking with her 'big sister' and at peace.

We went out to eat and talked, and I came home for a little while and that wasn't so bad. Then I went to watch the Heroes premiere--I needed some distraction. But now I'm home again, sitting in an empty house, and it seems so strange to not have her here. I think she's her in spirit, though, because I don't truly feel alone.

I just want to say you were my first dog of my own, my 'beloved one'. You were a reliable companion who was there for me when most people weren't. For all the years of joy you gave me, my Care Bear, I will always love you. Rest in peace.

Here are two pictures I've used of Cerys on this blog before. I'll see if I can find a better one, with her face showing better, of when she was young and scan it in.

First, with Darius:


Then in snow:


PS Today's radioplay was 'Double Zero'.

I have the appointment

It's for 5 pm today. There's no charge for euthanasia of clients. She'll be surrounded by her family and I got Dr Vice, who's been so good with her. But, man, this is going to be so hard to let her go. But it's best for her, I know.

Cerys isn't faring any better

I took her to the game today so I could keep an eye on her. She paced for two solid hours before finally laying down and she just looked so squashed. I let her stay outside for much of the day to get some fresh air and plenty of space. The other dogs didn't know what to make of her. One considers Cerys her 'special little friend' because they're both basically the same size. But even she was slow to approach her today. I think they sensed death is close. Once they did go near her, they were very gentle with her and didn't try to play or bowl her over. It took a long time to get her back to the car, and of course I had to lift her in and out. I have to lift her so she stands up, too, once she is down. She hasn't eaten since Friday, and she's only defecated once, and that showed she was pretty constipated. I think things are shutting down. I'm going to check with the vet tomorrow and see how much it is to have her put down. I hope to get an appointment tomorrow afternoon, after our store meeting. And then I'll probably be good for nothing for awhile. She's been such a good companion for sixteen years. It's hard to imagine life without her. The house will be so empty, especially as she is the last of my pets.

I think it's time

to put Cerys down. Last night I came in and she was in the bathroom on the floor and couldn't get up. She'd knocked water out of her water dish and urinated and defecated on the floor, and was lying in it shivering. I picked her up and put her on a blanket and cleaned her and everything else up as best as I could (she is very sensitive to touch these days, and she didn't seem to recognise me). I put some more water and some food next to her and decided to leave her there for awhile and see if she could get up on her own. She'd stopped shivering and didn't seem to be in any pain.

A couple of hours later she did stand up, although she yelped and needed help standing. Once she was up, she was a little shaky, but was able to go outside slowly on the leash. A couple of hours later I took her out again. Again, she was shaky but able to go. She didn't seem to recognise her surroundings at all. She'd sniff and just keep her nose down to the ground like she'd forgot what she was doing. She doesn't seem to have anything broken from a fall. I think she may have had a ministroke. She is drinking but hasn't really eaten anything. She also had some discharge when she urinated outside. Tonight she seems sleepy but comfortable, still not recognising anything. She did perk up when I said 'outside' but I couldn't get her up on the leash. So I'm waiting again to see if she'll get up on her own. At least she didn't go on the bedroom floor.

One thing I've learnt from Spock's death (my 17-year-old cat, who died a couple of years ago) is that you can spend hundreds of dollars on trying to find out what's wrong with a beloved companion and treat it, and once they reach a certain age, it's not going to stop the inevitable. Dr Vice and I have concentrated on keeping Cerys as comfortable and healthy as possible. He knows I neither have the money nor the desire to prolong any less-than-ideal quality of life. But if this spell continues, I think it does her no service to keep her alive for my benefit, when the question really is, what is best for her.

We've had sixteen wonderful years together. I remember the day I found her. I was driving to a store and suddenly felt an urge to drive across town to the local pound, just out of the blue. I'd been wanting a dog, a Labrador, either black or choclate. There she was, in one of the cage rooms--an 8-month old Lab cross, and black, like a friend of mine's dog whom I 'trained' on, having never had a dog to care for before. She did something she's only done once--she bowed and made the same noise his dog would make when she wanted in my apartment. I fell in love with her immediately, but one person was on the list ahead of me. That person dropped out. I had to badger my landlord to approve the dog. But finally she was mine, and I called her Cerys, 'beloved' in Welsh. She was truly a gift from my Patroness, Hekate, with whom black dogs are associated.

I have to find out Monday how much it will cost to put her down--my cat last year was $25, but it might be more with her weighing more. On the other hand, putting Darius down was the first time I'd used this vet, so maybe having her as an established patient helps. I don't know. Money's tight right now, but I'm sure I'll find a way to give her some peace.

I will so miss my Care Bear. It's going to be a hard week, I can tell already.

PS As I finished this post, she came out of the bedroom, so I put her on a leash and we went outside. She seemed a little more robust, and even a little more alert, although she hasn't defecated since last night sometime and she's not interested in either her food or mine (I gave her a bit of bread and she tasted it, but didn't eat it.) This is the hardest part of having a pet. My heart keeps saying 'well, maybe she'll get better'. My head is grounded more in reality. It's time.