Saturday, October 03, 2015

The House is Too Quiet.

Thank you for all the kind words about Murphy. It was awful, but there is no doubt in my mind that he was very near death, dehydrated and in pain. He looked nothing like that bright eyed little dog in the pictures here, or even how he looked ten days earlier.  And without going into the ugly details I can also say that there was zero hope of his ever putting on weight or surviving further dental work.  That was wishful thinking on everyone's part, including his vet.  She had called me on Sunday afternoon, after thinking it over, and we were on the same page.  He was in pain, his weight was plummeting despite pain meds and hand feeding, I suspect his kidneys were failing, and it was hopeless.

Knowing this didn't make it any easier, and losing him is as painful as losing a human family member.  That tiny old dog left a big hole in the household. 


4 comments:

Brenda said...

Hannah's half-birthday is tomorrow, and she will be 14 1/2. I have been giving extra time and attention this week and thinking about dear Murphy. His suffering is over, but yours is just beginning---you have to learn to live without having that bossy little dog with the huge personality in your life. I know you know it gets easier as time goes on. I'm glad you and your family enjoyed your trip---I hope you fed that poor baby Willa---those little legs and arms are breaking my heart. ;-)

Catherine said...

I'm sad, but not suffering. More on that in a day or two - the sudden stop to caregiving has been very enlightening.

Yes, poor Willa is so undernourished! I think my DiL's breast milk is straight Miracle Gro.

Anonymous said...

You are so right, Catherine - 'the sudden stop to caregiving' is a HUGE adjustment. I have been through three long term, intensive palliative experiences, with Brutus (pancreatic cancer), the cat Vegemite (accumulation of old-age problems) and most recently with dear old Ace. The complex web of support we provide - special diet, hand feeding, medication schedule, cleaning up, watching for symptoms, anticipating the dear creature's needs, all that vanishes and that leaves us feeling a little at a loss. On top of being plain worn out by it all.

Gae, in Callala Bay

Catherine said...

It's huge, and that is the true adjustment. Murphy hadn't been himself for months. I cheered every sign of "Murphyness," and I'm sure exaggerated their significance. I did all that caregiving in my "ample spare time" after two hours a day of commuting and nine in an office. The rest of my life fell away, and now I have a chance to get it back. I miss the healthy, happy Murphy. I can't say I'll miss what he had been for the last year.